#i think this actively broke and healed something in my brain at the same time

[ohnohelpitsagain]

i need to talk about vex and percy and why their episode three arc made me cry genuine, real tears (not kidding, tears left my eyeballs and like, it made my tummy ache)

vex is a bad omen, she thinks. her love for anyone is ruinous for them and she genuinely views herself as unlovable. the closer someone gets to her heart, the more likely they are to see that there is something wrong with her and they will reap the negative consequences of that. there’s something sick in her and sooner or later it will rear its head, so she might as well beat it to that.

percy loves her regardless and he makes that clear to her. he doesn’t insist that she is wrong when she admits this because he wants her to understand that even if any of what she said was true? he would feel exactly the same.

he loves her intensely, deeply and he also sees that she is truly terrified and he respects her wishes. he doesn’t fault her for her inability to reciprocate the way he wants in that moment

vex is someone who thinks she is hard to love.

percy cannot think of anything easier.

like, there is nothing righter in this world than the woman he loves.

so yes she cannot say what he wants to hear. it hurts, it isn’t easy, it has every hallmark of a situation that would breed frustration but he still holds her.

percy does not ONCE get visibly or verbally frustrated with her even with the fact that she’s (in my opinion, very intentionally) pushing him away by being dismissive and a little bit of a jerk when they first set up camp and talk. because ultimately, despite vex’s insistence that she can’t love him (and that she cannot be loved), percy sees her and treats her as someone deserving of gentleness and understanding.

she deserves to feel safe, she deserves to feel heard and she deserves to be listened to and that would be true even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings the way he wanted her to.

[iamvegorott]

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 57

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Marvin had some music softly playing from his phone. It just switched to The Nutcracker soundtrack, and he hummed along as he worked. Several potions sat aside, bottled up and wrapped with a little ribbon to make it look like a fancy gift, a perfume, instead of something magical. Most clients preferred that presentation, so no one got suspicious of them, which was funny since the jobs he took involved basically creating stronger medications or ‘enhancers’ for physical activities. Some were more appropriate than others. 

He was now writing down notes about his inventory, running low on ingredients used often in his creations. Many he could easily buy online and have shipped to him, but others were a little more work since only certain people could get them. Looks like they’ll need to be another Paris trick for him and Chase soon, and that thought got a happy flutter in his chest. 

It was funny how drastically different Marvin was about his feelings with Chase compared to when they were in Paris. How he was in denial and felt like it was a losing fantasy of keeping Chase with him, but now he was more than sure he’d be sticking around for a long time.  

“Marvin?” Mad peeked into the room and let out a relieved sigh, showing he had been looking for him. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up until the others got home.” Marvin giggled, writing down his last word before he forgot it, and then looked at Mad. “Oh, would you look at that~” He added with a playful purr. “Mare’s shirt?” 

“Oh, uh-yeah.” Mad tugged down on the shirt some more, the length of it making it appear like he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He had some shorts, but they were the ones Marvin got him, so they were very short but very soft at the same time. “I wanted something bigger on my chest, and Mare’s shirt was the right size,” Mad explained as he walked into the room. 

“Wearing someone else’s clothing always feels a little more comfortable, especially after having sex with them,” Marvin added a little wink, and Mad couldn’t help a little flustered giggle as he climbed up the counter Marvin was working at, sitting beside the messy work station. Mad could smell the magic still lingering in the air. 

“I can believe that.” Mad felt the fabric of the shirt between his fingers. 

“So? How’d it go? Was Mare good to you for your first time?” Marvin practically looked like a curious cat, a little ironic as the actual cat of the house pouted and jumped up on the counter with Mad. Al went into Mad’s lap and purred loudly as he rubbed his face and body all over him. 

“It…It was good.” Mad’s face went red, running his hand down Al’s back. 

“I can see Mare likes leaving little reminders behind.”

“Little reminders?” 

“Hickies.” Marvin pointed to his own neck as he took his phone out and opened the camera, letting Mad see himself in it. 

“O-Oh! Oh, wow…” Mad trailed his fingers across the bruising. “Wait.” He placed the phone down, adjusted Al, and moved the bottom of his shirt, exposing that he had matching markings on his thighs. Marvin broke out in a loud laugh when he saw them as well. 

“Twins!” 

“What?”

“Chase likes doing the same thing.” Marvin unbuttoned his shirt more, showing Mad his chest and how there were hickies all over him. The coloring and fading told him that some were a lot fresher than others. “He says he decided to start making it easier for me to hide them, but I think he just likes keeping them to himself.”

“They must heal differently,” Mad commented. “I ended up healing my…” He cleared his throat and assumed that would be enough for Marvin to understand. “But wouldn’t the bruising go away with it?” 

“You can target healing magic. Your brain probably focused on what was inconvenient, and the hickies were left alone.” Marvin explained. “If you want, I can heal those for you.”

“No, no, I…I like them.” Mad said the last part very softly. 

“Nothing wrong with that. I keep mine for the same reason. Well, that and because Chase usually gets worked up seeing them, too.” Marvin chuckled as he put his shirt back in place, finding himself tempted to change outfits before the others got home. Mad’s choice of clothing gave him a few ideas.

“Worked up? So-uh-aroused?” 

“Yep. Good catch.”

“Thanks.” Mad chewed his lip in thought as Marvin started cleaning up. “Do you…Do you think Mare would also get worked up from them?” 

“Considering he’s the one that made them, absolutely.” Marvin giggled, setting the remaining ingredients back on the shelf where they belonged. His organizational system wouldn’t make sense to anyone else but himself, and he liked it that way. “And, if I may provide a little tip; if you want Mare to bluescreen when he gets home, keep his shirt on, undo a few extra buttons, and let him see his work.” 

“That’s it?”

“Lose the shorts as well, and you’ll be in for an interesting second time.” 

“That’s…o-oh.” Mad’s blush from earlier deepened, face giving away that his thoughts were wandering to some interesting places. 

“You’ll have to let me know if I’m right.” Marvin giggled. 

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me this time?” 

“For helping me and Mare get together. If it wasn’t for you and Chase convincing us to come with you, we’d still be in denial. We’d still be with Actor. I’d still believe I wasn’t worthy of…thank you.”

“Oh, darling.” Marvin cleared his hands, and he faced Mad. “You two would have ended up in each other’s arms at some point. Fate is…well, it’s a messy thing. It always finds a way to put everything how it should be and uses us to help push it along. Henrik got me, and Chase started, and strangely enough, Dark was the one who pushed us together with his little contract stunt with Chase.” 

“So…with that logic, Actor started it, and you and Chase pushed us together?” Mad tried to follow along. “I wish fate would have found a different starting point.” 

“Fate is chaotic and merciless, but sometimes, it gives you the best thing you could ever need.” 

“Like Chase?”

“And Mare.” The two laughed at themselves. 

“Maybe this fate of yours can give us a break? Just for a bit.” 

“We’ll have to wait and see what Anti tells us about those men at Henrik’s.” 

“Yeah.” Mad sighed, looking down at Al and seeing the cat curled up and napping on him. 

“I still can’t believe you literally threw that man,” Chase said with a laugh, telling Marvin and Mad that he and the others were home. 

“Want me to send you to the room and have Mare come see you? I’ll have Al go to his cat tree as well.” Marvin offered, chuckling when Mad was blushing again and nodding. He snapped his fingers, sending Mad and Al away and also himself to the living room. Splitting a spell like that always took a lot of extra effort, but the day was over. He could afford to be a little reckless. 

“I was just doing my job,” Jackie said with a shrug. 

“You were being protective.” Chase corrected. 

“Like I said.” 

“My hero.” Phantom giggled, hugging Jackie’s arm and walking him away. “Let’s head to the room so I can give you a reward~” 

“What’s in the room?” Jackie asked.

“The bed.”

“How is the-Oh!” 

“He’s worse than you.” Marvin teased Chase. 

“I’m not that bad.” Chase protested.

“Sweetie.” 

“Okay, maybe I am, sometimes.” 

“And it’s cute.” 

“Is Mad still out?” Mare asked. 

“He is in the room, but he’s far from out. He’s waiting for you~” Marvin sang the last part.

“Waiting for me?” 

“Waiting for you.” 

“Goodnight,” Mare said quickly and snapped his fingers, not even wanting to wait long enough to head to the room with his legs. 

“Alright, even I caught on to that.” Chase chuckled. 

“Good boy, you’re getting better.” Marvin purred as he unbuttoned his shirt, seeing Chase’s eyes going straight to his chest, to the bruising that was slowly exposed. “Would you like to relieve some work-related stress~?”

“Yes!” Chase didn’t give Marvin a chance to use magic and scooped him up, carrying him through the house. Their laughs echoed against the walls as they went. 

----------

Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

[desafinado]

Hiya, do you do oneshots? If so, Kaeya takes a reader ice-skating and they are really afraid? I have trauma around ice-skating (broke my arm badly) and I think this would be sweet

frozen in fear (ice-skating with kaeya)

- pre-established romantic relationship, mentions of bodily injury, fluff (WC: 769) - kaeya x reader

a/n: hi anon! i hope you're doing well, because that indeed sounds like a pain :( we have like two ice-skating rinks in my whole country (we only have wet and dry season), but even then most of my friends and i would rather not because of how painful it is when u fall D: (which ends up happening 75% of the time lol)… hope you enjoy!!

it was that time of year when white frosting decorated the land, a time when ironically, couples did the warmest of activities like snuggling by the fire, kissing under the mistletoe and so much more; however, if there was one thing your boyfriend wanted to try doing with you, it was ice-skating.

"k-kaeya… where are we heading?"

you shiver as he leads down to starfell lake. you're wearing a coat, scarf, beanie, mittens, and even have kaeya holding onto you tightly, but it doesn't stop you feeling the wrath of the winter breeze. he chuckles softly, not feeling the least bit cold, as he pulls you closer.

"i have a surprise for you, darling…" he gives you a reassuring smile, and you trust him all the same, but you can't help but have a bad feeling about this.

when you both arrive at your destination, the lake is frozen over; the ice is thick enough to stand on, some skating tracks are visible on its surface. the cogs in your head start turning, but before you can even ask, kaeya confirms your suspicions.

"ice-skating! i wanted us to go ice-skating."

…

…

…

"dear?"

you freeze up at the mere mention of it, kaeya's eyes look at you, filled with concern. you look at the lake, then at him and the basket he's been holding the entire time; you feel like a fool for not realizing sooner. kaeya squeezes your hand gently, hoping to break you out of your silence. you close your eyes for a second or two, taking a deep breath before finally responding.

“kaeya… i’m sorry, but… i don’t think i can…”

“of course, you can! with me as your teacher, you’ll be gliding around in a no time”

“no, no, kaeya…”

you look deep into his eyes sincerely, leaving your own heart vulnerable to his gaze. he notices this immediately and gives you his full attention.

“i… i got into an accident long before, and broke my arm quite severely. it happened while i was ice-skating, so i’ve been…wary of doing it ever since.”

he nods, taking in what you’ve told him. his lips pursed into a small frown; however, it was one directed at himself.

“i’m so very sorry, my love. i should’ve consulted with you, i should’ve-”

“no, no, you have not a thing to apologize for, dear. if anything, i’m surprised i’ve never brought it up.” your faint chuckle fills the space between you and kaeya, the atmosphere feeling a bit less somber, but he still has that concerned and inquisitive look on his face.

“its fully healed?”

“to the extent that it isn’t a serious concern.”

he nods thoughtfully, trying to read your expression. he doesn’t want to push you, but he doesn’t want to treat you as though you were made of ice. ice-skating was something he thoroughly enjoyed, yes, but you were so much more important. he racks up his brain trying to find the best solution to this awkward situation. he slowly rests his basket on the snow and turns to face you.

“well… we can do something different, of course. my only condition is that we do it together.” he gives you an encouraging smile and pulls you closer to his chest, his palms laying on the small of your back. “we could head back to my place and have some cocoa by the fire? or… stay here and build a snow palace of sorts… it’ll be easy with my vision.” his smile becomes softer and softer as he thinks of how else you both could spend your time. his forehead touches yours, a carefree giggle escaping your lips.

“actually, we can do it, kaeya.”

you pause for a second, meeting his gaze. his blue eyes are just so full of love, and you know that every single ounce of it is all meant for you.

“i trust you. your love far outweighs any fear i harbor.”

he melts at your heartfelt admission, his excitement taking over as he showers you in kisses. the heat rising to your face finally gives you that warmth you had been sorely in need of.

“k-kaeya!”

“what? you trust me, don’t you?”

he smirks, giving you one last gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning back; his arms still loosely wrapped around your waist. “i really didn’t know you liked ice-skating that much…” your arms find their way around his neck, as they’re meant to be. he chuckles at your assumption.

“no, dear... i don’t care for it. i like you much much more, and i’m honored to have your trust to such an extent."

please do not repost on other websites!!

[petruchio]

Caroline I got broken up with 😭

What’s worse is that I have “want him back” disease and it’s terminal. It was a 6 month deal so it was long enough to be serious but short enough that I have very little to hate about him yet. (Yikes)

I spent a really long time holding him at arms length too, (being an avoidant girlie, I know you know) but I’ve spent some decent time now actually liking him and working on not being avoidant.

I tried so hard to be authentic and consistent rather than fearful and avoidant. (I’m the bravest girl in the world) but it wasn’t enough! Ive lost it all, and I have no one to blame. Not even me.

(It was a circumstantial breakup, but just I think getting back together is unlikely.)

So, sitting here trying not to miss him / think about how much I really liked him, I’m considering reading thg again, in your honor. Any food for thought on the series this time around? I’m in desperate need of a distraction.

We can be two single besties together🌟

ah my sweet angel!!! i'm so sorry!!!!

heartbreak is so so so hard. it's one of the hardest, loneliest, most frustrating feelings, and i'm so sorry. it SUCKS! there's no two ways around it. it just sucks.

it's cliche and unhelpful to say but honestly the only thing that can really heal it is just time. and when you're in the depths of the lowest lows it can feel like you'll NEVER move on, but i promise (I PROMISE!!) that someday you will. <33

a circumstantial breakup can hurt so deeply, because you don't necessarily know where to direct your anger and your hurt, and that's so frustrating when you're trying to work through these feelings! i don't know if there's anything you can do other than acknowledge that -- say to yourself, this SUCKS and it's not FAIR and i'm ANGRY about it. you don't have to be angry at him (unless he was mean or nasty when you broke up!) but it's okay to acknowledge and feel your anger, even if your rational brain is telling you that you did all the right things. let yourself be irrational. that's what heartbreak IS.

from your message, i will say this -- i'm SO proud of you for working through the difficulties of being open and honest and vulnerable with someone! that's no small task. i think every relationship we have in our lives teaches us so much about ourselves and how we can grow and evolve, and the fact that you were able to identify when you fell into those patterns and actively work to stop them... that's incredible! and you should be so proud of yourself for doing it. i don't think you've "lost it all," i think you've shown yourself that you are capable of showing up and giving 100% of yourself to someone no matter how scary it might feel. and while it might feel like a loss right now, there's something to be said for gaining that level of insight into yourself and your relationships. as joni mitchell would say, "something's lost but something's gained in living every day" -- and you did! you showed up to really live your life and love as boldly as you could. i'm so proud of you.

i don't think you should feel guilty for missing him or wanting him back!! all you can do is just feel it all -- let your fantasies of getting back with him and the conversations you have with yourself in the mirror teach you about yourself and what you want and what you need. feel ALL the feelings. try to make them into art. journal, cry, sing. listen to sad music, listen to angry music, listen to happy music and hate the singers for being so happy when you're so sad. go for long walks and draft detailed letters that you'll never send and talk to your friends until they tell you to just SHUT UP about it already but know in your heart that they're there for you and that you'll be there the same way when it happens to them. let yourself feel alone, let yourself feel lonely -- but hold tight to the knowledge that you are surrounded by so much love in your life.

sending you sunshine and cheek kisses and a warm hug. <3 make yourself a cup of tea and re-read the hunger games and fall in love with peeta all over again -- it will get better <33 i promise

[aggressive-almond-cookie]

I’ve been feeling a little weird lately and seeking comfort, so I decided to go replay splat2′s story mode.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, maybe briefly, but I didn’t play much of splat2 when it was active. I played a little bit of 1 when it came out, enough to fall in love with the concept but also enough to know it was for people much more mechanically skilled than me (a person who favored slow-paced sim games, turn-based RPGs, and point-and-click grindfests). I watched my housemate play 2 a bit but I couldn’t justify the purchase myself for something I figured I would terrible at. (I remember watching them play salmon run, and asking ‘wow, there’s a PvM co-op mode now?’ and thinking for a moment that maybe that would be less intimidating to learn, and then I saw a steel eel for the first time which was HORRIFIC, then watched them get completely swamped with with bosses and wipe, and decided .. no maybe not).

It was Splat3′s testfire, that I just so happened to hear about happening in a friends discord server, that happened to hit me at exactly the right time. I finally had a better job, was well on my way to healing from the trauma of my 11 years of working retail, and going through a bit of an inner renaissance, particularly getting in touch (possibly for the first time as an adult) with the true concept of play, the idea that playing didn’t have to have high stakes, that you don’t play to get a good grade in playing, you can just play to have fun and experience the thrill of intense situations in a setting where no actual danger is present.

I fell in love so quickly. I played the testfire every moment that I could and felt like I was finally, finally getting to enjoy this. In retrospect I was so bad at it-- I could barely swim up walls and I couldn’t even figure out how to use my special for the first several hours of gameplay and after trying out tons of weapons found that I was having the most luck using rollers and running over people (lol). But my skill level, for once, was something I wasn’t giving a single brain cell to worry about. I was just enjoying myself, celebrating every tiny victory and laughing at how many times I would just run off the map because I had so little spatial awareness. I won a 100x, I experienced my first squidparty, I did tricolors on attacking and felt intensely bonded with the random strangers I got partnered with. I was experiencing so many wonderful new things all at once and was absolutely euphoric.

And once the testfire was over, the emptiness it left behind left me so restless I thought I might start climbing walls. So to tide me over between then and release, I borrowed my housemate’s copy of splat2, figuring I could at least attempt story mode and learn the basics.

It was hard. Like really, really hard. I don’t... play these kinds of games. I could barely control where I was walking, I absolutely could not aim, I had zero confidence in jumping and missed even easy jumps routinely. I made it through by sheer stubbornness and force of will, running over and over through the same levels until I got lucky enough to get through them. Many levels I finished with a time of over half an hour, one at least 40 minutes, and that’s after lord knows how many failures. The last two kettles in the last zone nearly broke me. I actually cried tears of relief when I finally finished Platform Madhouse, shaking from the tension of making my final moves with the greatest precision and calculation that my clumsy and inexperienced hands could.

But... I did it, you know? And in doing so, I managed to prove to myself that I could do it-- that these kinds of games actually weren’t impossible for me, and that maybe, maybe I could overcome whatever other challenges awaited me in 3 and beyond, too.

Anyway, that’s way too much backstory to say that going back through the splat2 levels again was something of both a surreal and comforting experience. I went through them all in the span of a day, during a workday even, just playing in short intervals during breaks and lunchtime. Those last two kettles (minus octavio) were still the most difficult, but they didn’t take more than a few tries. It was satisfying to gracefully sail through so many of the levels that I struggled so painfully with less than a year ago. I’d say my confidence in making jumps has absolutely improved the most and is the thing I think has had the greatest impact on my ability to navigate the game-world in general.

I’ve been finally playing octo expansion too. A bit late maybe, but I think I had just really overhyped the difficulty in my mind and intimidated myself out of it. As it turns out, the main story is still very accessible, even to lower skill levels. You don’t have to actually complete most of the levels (or even play them) and even the points you pay to play you can go into debt with, so there’s never any real danger. You can skip levels after failing them enough times, so I think the only way you can actually get stuck might be the final segments. Granted, I’m still putting off going to the P R O M I S E D   L A N D until I have a long stretch of time for it (This is the same reason I still haven’t done After Alterna >>.., I just.. don’t have the sheer continuous amount of time to sit down and grind it out. I wish I could save states in these games so I don’t have to lose progress if I need to task-switch), so I might take this back, but so far that’s my impression.

And it’s been really enjoyable. I was happy to find there’s a ‘Who Caused The Big Bang’-style level that takes seconds to complete to make it easy to farm points (I keep wanting to call them power eggs when they’re not, lol). The levels on average are definitely more challenging than Alterna, but there are certainly several that I’d consider less challenging than Those Aren’t Birds and Target Town, and there are even some that Alterna practically made copies of (the one where you cut a shape out of boxes, for example).

That said, there have only been a few levels that I might say I breezed through-- they’re pretty challenging, but they don’t feel un-doable, and it’s so satisfying when you do overcome the challenges. It’s giving me an honest confidence boost to watch myself successfully take out a octosniper (my most feared enemy in my early days) with a charger (probably the weapon class I am weakest in) while balancing on a rotating platform (which were my absolute worst nightmare my first time going through splat2′s story mode). There’s still several levels I have to clear and some I haven’t even unlocked, but since they’re not keeping me from finishing the main storyline, I feel like I can just complete them as I feel up to it and there’s no reason to rush or get frustrated.

I love the levels where you just... play anarchy modes against octolings. Especially the one where you play rainmaker on manta maria-- tetras is a weapon option for that one and it’s quickly becoming one of my comfort levels in addition to just being good practice for firing the rainmaker. And I just love the entire vibe of everything-- much like Alterna there’s so much to see if you stop and look around, so many childhood-items floating in the sky, mixed with the music that gives me those vaporwave-esque feelings of nostalgia mixed with melancholy mixed with a feeling that’s somehow equally comforting and unsettling. And all that woven into these... weirdly juxtaposed grimdark/horror elements expressed with clown-like lightheartedness. It’s just a masterpiece of a setting and I’m so so glad I got the nerve to play this.

Splat2 in general has just been kind of a fun thing to mess around in with friends when we feel like a change of pace. Sometimes we do salmon run which is kind of awful without egg throws or squid-rolls, but we’re so low-rank that it’s still just kind of a chill experience.

I wouldn’t say I’m on a break from Splat3 anarchy because I keep intending to play it, and I know I’ll have fun with it, but then I get set up and sit down to do it and end up playing octo expansion instead. I think I may have low-key intimidated myself out of getting back into anarchy since I fell out of practice when I was out of town again; it feels like it takes me so long to get back into the swing of it and I take my losses a bit harder than I should. I tell myself octo expansion is good practice, and that’s not entirely untrue, but deep down I do know that the only thing that’s going to get me over my hesitance to play anarchy is playing anarchy.

But I guess at least if I’m going to put off addressing something I’m intimidated by, I’m glad I’m doing so by addressing something else I was previously intimidated by.

I’m really looking forward to Side Order now, especially since now I have the confidence that I’ll actually get to enjoy it along with everyone else and not get bogged down or walled off by being unable to complete basic things. I just feel a lot more capable, and it’s nice.

[littlemisstonydiary]

Unknown Love Pt.1

Have you ever felt such love that you know existed but it grew without you knowing? I did. It was just a crush before. He was my partner as our surnames were alphabetically next to each other. I liked how cool he was, how clean he was ( he is a neat freak), how sarcastic he was, and how intelligent he was. I liked everything about him except for the fact that I know he will never like me. I kept those feelings thinking that was only a ridiculous crush and that I know I will get over it eventually. Flashing news today: I never did! And every now and then I think about him. How's his life? Is he still alive?

The last news I heard from him was he broke up with Lana. After that, he is nowhere to be found. No social media, no number. I don't have anything. Every now and then I tried looking for his profile on any social media. I failed a million times. I tried checking those people he was close to before, but he is nowhere to be found. It's like he tried to erase himself from society. After a couple of years, I stopped looking, lurking, expecting I will see his face but my desire to see him did not end.

Last night, I dreamt of him. I know it's that extreme when I dream of someone. It's like the universe is telling me something. My brain always shows my deepest secret that I kept avoiding. Often times when I dream of someone, I consciously, tell myself that I am dreaming. As I dream I tend to make scenarios to make the dream better but this time, I genuinely thought it was real. I slept for so long and woke up happy.

Yes, it was him in my dreams. I dreamt that we ended up together. I was so happy just being by his side. I am happy that we are together and with his family. It was chaotic but I was happy.

I woke up contemplating life. It's more than 10 years since I saw and talked to him but I still remember him vividly. It's like my self is healing and it's letting me go through all the love that I tried to suppress. I like him and just thinking about being with him makes me the happiest.

I pulled out my phone and I searched for his name. " Manuel Gezaea" No results in any social media. No active accounts. I knew that will be the outcome but I still did it anyway. It made my heart sink. When I am about to put my phone down, an idea popped into my head as if someone gave me a hint of where to find him.

"Try Google," said the voice inside.

I gladly followed it. I did not expect anything as I know there will no result. I tried that before and got nothing. To my surprise, there is one result. Manuel Gezaea from Austria. I thought to myself this could not be him but I still open this job site. To my surprise, there he is. His picture is on this company website. Older but still gives me butterflies. I rejoice and felt like crying.

" I found you!" I shouted. I was so happy. I jolted up and looked at this picture of yours. " I missed you. I found you!" that's all I can say. I also felt relieved as I know you are still breathing and alive.

"So this is you know. " I continued talking to your picture. " I have so many questions! I want to hear everything."

But after the feeling of happiness, sadness overwhelmed me. "This is him now. He is far from this country. We do not breathe the same air anymore. He is out of reach." it made me out of breath. It's like something punched my heart.

I clicked on connect on your job site hoping that you will feel the urge to talk to me too. I am hoping that you are happy with your life. "Please universe, please have him talk to me if he is still available." I kept on praying until I close the site. Shut down the computer and went on with my life.

[leiawritesstories]

could you write something for rowaelin for the song "before you go" by lewis capaldi? (p.s. hurt me please)

Hope this hurts, lovely anon ;)

word count: 1212

warnings: ANGST

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

“Hey.” Aelin settled down into the rather comfortable armchair, plopping her purse onto the side table. “Sorry I took so long to get here, traffic was awful.” She tapped her foot absently against the beige tile flooring, one hand reaching for Rowan’s larger, tanned one, lacing her fingers with his. “I’ve missed you, my love. My buzzard. Home isn’t the same without you around all the time. Hell, I find myself turning around a thousand times a day thinking I saw you walk in, or heard you swearing from the other room, or felt your touch against my back.” Tears clouded her eyes despite her best efforts to keep her emotions held at bay. “Why, Ro? Why now?” 

But the unconscious man in the hospital bed made no response. 

She gulped back a sob. “I thought I was trapped in a nightmare when I got the call, you know. There has been an accident, Miss Galathynius. Of course, the damn EMT couldn’t quite pronounce my name, so it sounded like a child trying to make sense of the syllables.” With her free hand, she flicked the rogue tears off her cheek. “I keep replaying the last thing I said before you left that night, Ro. I keep hating myself for them.” She sniffled. “I told you I hated you. I hate you. I hate you. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. God, I’m such an insensitive fucking idiot. I knew what you were going through with Maeve, I knew that you’d been broken down time and time again at that awful woman’s hands, and I...I lashed out because I was stupid and insecure and fucking stupid.” 

Rhythmic, steady beeping from the machines hooked into Rowan’s body was the only answer she got. His heartbeat pulsed across one of the screens, a slow, constant electric green blip the only indication that the love of her life was there behind the ugly gown and the mottling of injuries. 

“Why couldn’t I just pick up the phone?” she whispered, voice cracking as that sob broke through her barrier. “Why was I so stubborn and insistent that I’d been in the right? Why couldn’t I see how badly you were hurting, how badly I needed to pull my head out of my ass and read the words so clearly scrawled across your face?” No longer bothering to stem her tears, she reached up to his achingly handsome face, the face that no amount of bruises and scrapes and scars would ever change that she loved. “Remembering the way you looked at me right before you left--it kills me, Ro. Every time.” She choked out another rough sob, tasting the salt of her tears. “They say time heals all ills, but I’m so, so scared it won’t heal this one. 

“My Rowan.” Lifting the back of his hand to her lips, she pressed a teary, tender kiss to the inked skin. “My buzzard.” Another kiss. “Please, don’t leave me.” Breaking into pieces by the last pleading words. 

She watched his chest rise and fall in rhythm with the tube pumping oxygen into his lungs, helping him breathe as his ribs and bruised lung healed. Watched the blips and beeps of his pulse, his brain activity, his blood flow pulse across the screens as she clutched his hand, the familiar warmth leeched away as he slept. 

“Would this have happened if I hadn’t been so closed off?” she breathed hoarsely into the silent, sterile room. “Would we be here like this if I’d just fucking talked to you for once?” Hot salt tears dripped onto his hand, her grief pouring out into the hospital bedsheets. “All I want are answers, Ro. Even if it’s just a ‘no,’ even if you tell me to fuck off. I just--” Her breath hitched. “I just want to hear your voice again, buzzard. I just want to see you smiling. I’m so sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. I did this to you--I was an idiot and I yelled at you and I made you leave and gods, I’m the reason you were in that crash.” Sobs shook her shoulders, the full force of her emotions unmasked for him. Only for him. “I love you, Rowan Whitethorn. I will never stop loving you, even if you never know it again.” Raising that hand to her lips, she pressed a soft, teary kiss to his knuckles, careful to avoid the IV. 

Finally, hesitantly, she loosened her grip on his hand, letting go before she cracked into pieces all over the hospital floor. She pushed her chair back, still with her fingers touched to his, and stared at his still, sleeping body, the pale undertone of his tanned skin. Her fingers twitched. 

No. 

His fingers twitched. 

Gasping, she raised her eyes to his face, barely believing that any of this was happening. 

Pine green crashed into turquoise, silent tears pooling in the depths of Rowan’s eyes. 

Awake. He was awake. He could hardly move, save for twitching his fingers against hers, and he was still under heavy pain medication and sleepy from the sedatives, but he was awake. Staring at her. Alive. 

Chest heaving, Aelin pressed the nurse call button, lacing her fingers with Rowan’s, her eyes not leaving his. The nurse burst into the room in less than a minute, rushing to the bedside. 

“He’s awake,” Aelin croaked, beaming through her tears. “He’s awake.” 

“He’s awake,” the nurse echoed, hurrying to check Rowan’s body functions on the monitors. Two more nurses rushed into the room at her words, talking to each other rapidly about Rowan’s vitals. “Breathing seems normal, heartbeat is steady, BP a little low but not dangerous...” The nurse who’d first entered turned to Aelin, smiling widely. “He’s perfectly fine, Ms. Galathynius.” 

Aelin could only smile wider, gripping Rowan’s hand. “What comes next?” 

What came next was a slow, steady recovery. Rowan went under sedation again the next day to have the breathing tube removed, so the next time Aelin visited him, he was propped up in bed with an oxygen tube under his nose, more coherent than he’d been when he first awoke but still unable to speak. The doctors had warned her that he’d be silent for a while as his throat recovered from having a breathing tube, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was alive, awake, and recovering his motor function, despite the fractures, the bruises, the bandages and casts on his body. 

He’d recovered enough function in his good arm that when she arrived and sat down at his side, heart bursting with all she wanted to say, he pulled over the whiteboard a nurse had left for him and slowly scratched out three words. 

I love you. 

“I love you, Ro,” she breathed. 

He erased and wrote again. I heard you, you know. 

“You did?”

Yes

“I’m such--” 

I forgive you. Setting down the whiteboard, he closed his hand around hers, every ounce of his love for her shining in his eyes. I forgive you, I love you. 

Hesitantly, she pulled herself closer, leaned gingerly over his body, and pressed her lips against his. “I love you so much.” 

“To...whatever...end,” he mouthed, forming the words with some effort. 

To whatever end. 

~~~

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[sleepylixie]

3.1k words, Angst, Fluff (Romance), Non-idol AU

Kim Hongjoong X fem! Reader

Inspired by Love you Like Me- William Singe ( Playlist here )

Beware of Profanity, Heavy themes of infidelity, implied sexual activity 

The studio was loud, bustling with murmurs and movement, lighting being fidgeted with and artists putting in the final touches to the simple, neutral toned set. A shiver traced down your back as you watched people walk this way and that, preparing everything to be perfect just in time, just before the cameras begin rolling and the star of the show settles in front of the camera-

The steady buzz of your phone in your hand interrupted your train of thought. Took him long enough, you thought to yourself as you watched the name flash across the screen. Hongjoong. 

Not a couple of months ago, his contact’s name had been ‘loml’ with a red heart- how quickly things change. You knew he would call you before you were to go on-air, a tradition that he had unfailingly kept alive over the last 3 years. This particular call however, was different. Special. 

Because it was going to be the last. 

You would miss his calls, you mused as you accepted the call. His smooth, lilting tenor always greeting you with- 

“Hello, starlet.” 

The amused endearment didn’t make you smile like it used to. You used to shy away from it when you had initially started dating Hongjoong. Over the years, however, you had truly grown into a starlet in your own right so the inside joke was now laced with adoring truth. 

“Hello, my love.” 

Your voice was soft, mellow, the perfect replication of how you would respond to him in better times. Funny how a relationship you’d valued as much as your career had come down to pretence and secrets- 

“Are you ready?”  

The real question is, are you ready? The response was heavy on your tongue but you swallowed it down, letting a sardonic smile curl up the edge of your lips as you hummed into the phone, a show of contemplation.

“I think so.” 

If only he knew what you were talking about. 

“I’m sure you are, you spent so much time in the studios with Chris. Trust yourself, darling. You’re going to do amazing.” 

There had been a time when his reassurance would’ve given you enough motivation to rule the world- now though, it felt like nothing but a sham. Pretty, deceptive falsities that he kept up only for the sake of his promise to you. A game of make-believe he seemed to be amusing himself with. 

He was going to find out soon enough, you convinced yourself. He was going to find out soon enough that you were no game to be trifled with. 

The producer caught your eye, motioning to the set – it was time. 

“It’s almost time, I need to go.”

What a glorious double entendre this conversation was. 

“Good luck, my love. I’ll be watching the live.”

You hummed again before hanging up, coughing into your hands as you made your way to the set. The producer flashed a smile and thumbs up at you as you took your seat on the stool meant for you. 

“We’re going to be live in 3 minutes. Ready?” 

Between your makeup artist doing some final touches on your face and the sound technician checking the wires and mic-set for your in-ears, you returned the producer’s thumbs up with a confident smile- more confident than you were truly feeling, you were sure. 

“Ready.” 

All too soon, the 2 minutes had passed and you were sat alone in front of the camera, nothing but a mic in your hand as the producer did a countdown- Rolling in 3,2,1-

The first strains of the backing track flowed through your in-ears, your grip on the mic tightening as the repetitive, building melody washed over you like the tune of a haunted nursery rhyme. With the melody came the memories, a barrage of feelings tinged angry red and melancholy pink. 

After all these years, it seemed your love really had to end the way it began- mic in hand, lyrics at your lips and leaden heart in your chest. This time though, he wasn’t the healing balm, he was the twisted knife itself. 

Kim fucking Hongjoong.

“He never calls this late at night, no… But I can tell he’s been drinking all night long.” 

The studio was pin-drop silent except for the soft, dragging lilt of your voice. The track Chris had made for you could catch a listener’s attention all too easily- the magic your voice brought with it soon afterwards only served to hook the listeners more. 

You remembered slipping into the studio one rainy 2 a.m, scrawled sheets of paper feeling heavy and hot in your pocket. Chris had been rightfully concerned with your deceptively put together appearance, knowing exactly what had brought about the torrent of words you had thrown onto the table. 

Chris had always been safe, warm comfort for you- from the days of pulling all-nighters before graduation to the sleepless nights spent recording and producing in your shared studio, your friendship had come a long way.

But you’d shaken your head at him, urging him to look at the sheets. The memory of your pen slicing into the sheets was still burnt onto your fingertips, your vision almost blurring with tears as you scrawled every word that came to mind. Fiery, sensual, vengeful words seared onto the paper, a clear reflection of everything that had silently plagued you every night, every sunset, until you broke.

 “He sounds upset, I’m asking baby where you at, I called you earlier but you didn’t call me back…”

You met Hongjoong a little more than 4 years ago in a dive bar- him, the tired university student looking for a break and you, the evening’s entertainment. Your set had been entirely covers of moody love songs, reminiscent of your own sentiments- all you wanted to do was write your own music but it seemed all rookies were destined to be stuck with small gigs and other artists’ music. 

But for some reason, this one man with electric blue hair that contrasted- clashed, even, with his formal outfit had approached you after you finished your set. Only when he sidled closer to you did you noticed the paint splatters on his cuffs and the tiny earring dangling against his neck. The first thing he told you was that he had fallen in love with your voice and would love to get you a drink so he could hear it more. 

Even in the heartbroken haze you were in, you knew there was something about this odd patch-work quilt of a man with a sparkly smile that you couldn’t shake. Conversation had been uncannily easy after that-

Falling in love with Hongjoong however, hadn’t been a cakewalk by any means. 

 “He’s breaking down, I’m about to lose it… I’m screaming who the fuck were you with…”

Falling for Hongjoong was walking through fire and hail and ice; it was always expecting the worst out of each other but somehow ending up with the best too; to see each other as flawed humans before possible targets of affection. It took a good part of a year for the both of you to acknowledge any sentiment beyond friendship for each other, even more time to consider dating. 

He’d been hesitant at first- so had you. But as Hongjoong murmured to you that fateful evening your relationship began, the thought of not knowing how you’d be together was one he could not digest. Sometimes you wish you hadn’t agreed- but to disagree would’ve been a regretful lie. 

Over the years, it had always warmed your heart to have known without a shadow of a doubt that he would walk through all the world’s calamities for your hand in his.

Kim Hongjoong was perfect, after all. 

The perfect son of a perfect family, the visual arts graduate with a perfect score, the perfect fit for a job as an art gallery’s curator- Surely, his love was tinted with the same shade of perfection as the rest of him?

You were wrong. 

 “I grab my keys you better tell me where you at… he said he fucked up but there’s no taking it back...”

Kim Hongjoong was fickle as a wayward breeze where the matters of the heart were concerned. It was easier for him to let people love him, feel the adoration for him rolling off people’s eyes and bodies than be the person to love freely. Love was vulnerability to him, but gods, did he make vulnerability look gorgeous. 

Maybe the very reason he began to love you at first was because you didn’t care for his perfection.

His words still echoed in your ears sometimes, especially in nights that were woefully sober or afternoons that were hopelessly unproductive. There had been a time when the only things you remembered of the honeyed rasp was from your best dreams, promising you forever in every day- 

Not anymore. All you remembered now was the way he had sounded that night, alcohol and regret mixing badly in his veins, voice rough and stilted and broken as he asked you for forgiveness, for space in your heart despite his mistakes.

 “I gave everything to you and this is what you turn around and do…”

You wish you’d never driven to him after his teary confessions, hoping against hope he was pranking you and had only drunk too much to cater to common sense. You wish you hadn’t walked yourself to his best friends’ night club and have to witness the look of pity Seonghwa and San cast upon before handing Hongjoong over to you. 

You wish you hadn’t put yourself through the utterly tragic ordeal of picking up after him. Especially now, that you know how the future would look after that night. 

The memories steeled your voice through the smooth notes, the music rising and falling as the backing track began to build. You’d struggled to record this section of the song- your breath always seemed to catch and hold when you sang the words, your chest feeling too heavy, tongue too leaden to mouth the next lines. But today, the tune was like second nature to your lips, the sentiment almost easy to express. 

Surely he was watching now, wherever he was, the lyrics’ meaning sinking into his skin with every word. Some tiny, savage part of your brain hoped he felt the same cold terror and sense of unfairness you felt all this while- you hoped he would drown in it until it consumed him, soul and all. 

 “Did she have it all, all that you wanted for you to go and break your promise?”

He’d crawled into your bed with you that night, holding you closer than he had ever held you in 3 years. Soothed your tears of pure disappointment and cried way too many of his own, your shoulders shuddering as you pulled each other closer. Murmured apologies a million times, over and over again against your skin as he curled his body around yours, until you fell into a restless sleep. 

You still remember the time-dampened images of the nightmare you had that night, the shadows laughing at you for being an inadequate girlfriend, an unfit person, that he probably cheated because you weren’t doing enough for him. You’d awoken a mere couple of hours after the both of you had nodded off, Hongjoong’s grip on your body still tight despite his state of slumber. 

Was he worried you’d wake up and walk away?

He would find you in your kitchen in his old shirt when he woke up anyway, tired eyes and tired limbs and enough coffee for 2 in the French press. 

 “I wanna know, every secret you’ve been hiding…I wanna know just how long have you've been lying…”

A mistake, he’d called it. One-off error in judgement, a single moment in time he had chosen not to listen to his better sensibilities. It had happened once, entirely because of his lapse in judgement, he said. It would never happen again; he swore to you. Promised to you with your hands in his, earnestness in his gaze that you had never been subjected to until now- then again, he’d never given you reason to mistrust him until now. 

You’d asked for a promise from Hongjoong that day- a no-closed-doors policy on your relationship. It should’ve been a no-brainer as far as you were concerned, but it seemed that people like Hongjoong needed the reminder that not all people lived the way they did. That love wasn’t reckless free fall to everybody, a spark that burns fast and bright and fizzles out just as quick. 

 “I wanna know, does she fuck you like I did…I wanna know, and will she love you like I did…”

You wish you’d been less mature about the whole affair. 

Singing the words aloud only made you wish you’d thrown the words at him the first time it happened, instead of now, behind the safety of two screens and physical distance. You should’ve allowed yourself the sheer meltdown that the situation warranted, allowed the rage to take over your system even if it was for those few unfiltered seconds.

Hongjoong’s actions hadn’t deserved the maturity you afforded them. But you couldn’t blame yourself- in those fleeting moments, the primary emotions you had felt was that of inadequacy. You should’ve trusted yourself more.

 “Boy this ain’t how it’s supposed to be...Dancing between someones else’s sheets…”

After the burning hurt from the fiasco died down, it felt like Hongjoong had taken it upon himself to prove to you how special, how important, how absolutely irreplaceable you were to him. In the haze of it all, you ended up loving it. 

The once almost stoic man was now making an effort to be more to you, less of the disappointment he had caused you. He made an effort to talk to you, open up about his frayed relationship with love – hesitant at first and then naturally. 

I care about you. I love you; he’d murmured to the ceiling one night. You were silent, body resting against his as he arranged the sheets higher around your bodies. I wanted to know what we’d be like together and I haven’t regretted a second of it. I can’t imagine my days without you around.  A soft kiss planted against your hairline that you returned against the crook of his neck as sleep claimed you.

 “I can’t believe this is really happening, your guilty conscience is going to be the death of me..”

The next few months were a daily reminder of how much Kim Hongjoong had come to know you over the years of your relationship. Your favourite flowers turned up like clockwork at your desk every Tuesday, accompanying a note in his quick, scratchy handwriting – a new tradition of mid-week dates at experimental restaurants with oddly planned menus. Voice notes of his raspy morning voice sending you sweet affirmations that rung in your ears late into the afternoon. 

Even the way he touched you felt softer, more… reverent. Like he’d had a taste of what he stood to lose and never wanted to think of it again. As each day passed, you found yourself resting easy, basking in the attention and adoration and soft romance of it all.

Looking back on it, you should’ve known. What was it they say about a cheat?

They expect you to be loyal to them despite their faithlessness.

 “You got so caught up in the moment...But she’ll only love you when she’s lonely…”  

The second time it happened, the only thing your heart felt was a wildfire doused in rage and an almost crippling sense of treachery. A fellow artist in the same recording company as you had slipped into the studio late one night, just as you were packing up to head home. She’d pulled you to the couch on the side, holding your hands in hers as she hesitated before asking her questions- Are you sure your boyfriend is faithful? He keeps leaving the club I perform at with other girls?

Your fingers curled tightly around the mic, trying your hardest not to let your other hand clench the fabric covering your legs. You would give the world neither the privilege nor the misfortune of knowing how much truth this song really held. The world didn’t- no, Hongjoong didn’t deserve it. Not anymore.

 “This ain’t a game you better tell me where you're at, No boy, you fucked up and there’s no taking it back..”

You’d dropped by Hongjoong’s apartment that night, hands shaking in your coat pockets and head spinning from the rush of emotions. You had a spare key, and it was only a matter of dropping him a quick text before letting yourself in. Betrayal? Rage? Frustration? Disappointment? It was the disgusting cocktail in the pit of your stomach that led you to snoop through his phone while he was in the shower-

You wish you hadn’t but oh, you’d be damned if you weren’t glad you had.

He’d brought girls to his apartment at the end of so-called club hopping nights with Seonghwa. Every Friday. Ever since he’d made his ‘promise’ to you.

Every single Friday.

He’d bedded some random chick from the clubs and then turned up at your doorstep every weekend like nothing had ever happened.

Every. Single. Friday.

 “I gave everything to you …and this is what you turn around and do..”

You remember slipping out of Hongjoong’s apartment as quickly as you had turned up, faking an emergency at the studio to dash out the front door. Stubbornly holding your tears at bay as you drove back to your own neighbourhood, out of the car and into your apartment. Collapsing on your couch in a daze just as the breakdown began.

You still don’t know if the tears you shed that night were of anger or sadness- with the urge to destroy everything Hongjoong stood for, the only thing you wanted to do was never see him again.

For a second, you were transported back to that disaster of a night, the studio melting away into the familiar walls of your apartment, closing in on you as the despair and bottomless rage set in. There was an edge to your voice as you sang now, more angry than sad like before. Was he listening? Was he able to hear your farewell in the lyrics?

Was he panicking that you found out? Or worse, did he not care at all?

 “Did she have it all, all that you wanted for you to go and break your promise?”

The next morning, you’d woken up with puffy eyes and a heavy heart, but with one clear motive seared into your mind- revenge.

You’d allowed him into your heart, let him build a home there for years and years. You had loved him every way you knew how to- broken at first, unconditionally later. You’d given him trust, a currency you were known to be stingy with- and he turns around and does this to you.

Maybe that was childish of you; maybe a more mature person would’ve broken it off that day, wallowed in heartbreak and made efforts to move on. But no, not you.

If Hongjoong had found it acceptable to take girls home while being in a relationship with you, he would definitely find it acceptable if you aired some of his dirty laundry yourself.

 “I wanna know every secret you’ve been hiding…I wanna know just how long have you been lying..”

Chris had been concerned when you walked into the studio, looking almost entirely functional and not worse for wear at all.

It made sense, your best friend’s worry. It had only been 3 days since…since the incident and besides an update message, you had burrowed yourself at home and entirely unreachable. But here you were today, sheets of paper filled with your scrawl covering the table in front of you- lyrics.

Read them, you’d muttered, shoving the pages towards him- your hands shook slightly, the first crack in your façade. They’re a bit of a mess, but they mostly make sense.

Only you would remember being drunk off your mind on whiskey and later, wine the whole time. Alternating between feverish writing and heartbroken sobbing. Pretending to be completely fine to Hongjoong, telling him to not ‘interrupt your creative process’. Staring out into the starrless night skies and wishing that one day soon, Hongjoong would feel the hell you were feeling now. One day, you would look a camera in the eye and sing these lyrics out loud, for the world to hear, for him to hear. And you’ll be damned if that day, Kim Hongjoong didn’t get his final taste of who he’d just lost.

 “I wanna know…does she fuck you like I did, I wanna know,  will she love you like I did..”

Getting the right feel to the lyrics while recording the song had been all too easy, waving off Hongjoong’s curiosity about your newest project easier so.

It was a surprise for him, you would smile, dropping fleeting kisses against his cheekbones and jaw just the way he liked. He always smiled and dragged your mouth to his own, letting his smile slide against your own, murmuring that he was going to follow you into the studio to take a peek for curiosity’s sake. 

Talk often fizzled out at that point, because god, it was so difficult to stay away from each other’s bodies and out of each other’s arms after the long days of being your own people, strong and resourceful and adult and independent. It was easier to let your muscle memories take over, touch and sense and feel every single wretched thing that Hongjoong was so capable of making you feel.  

 “She won't do you like me, she won't love you like me, baby…she won't touch you like me, she won't love you like me, baby…”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t get a wild sense of pleasure singing those lines, your eyes not leaving the camera pointed at you. Was it revenge well served? A broken heart being healed?

Over the weeks of preparing for the song, you’d realized how true those words were. The burning sense of betrayal and hurt hadn’t faded in the least- you still woke up every morning feeling lesser than, but never again. Never would you let anybody feel like this again.

Nobody would love Hongjoong like you could. It was about time he realized that. Pity, though, that you wouldn’t be around to witness it. 

“She won't love you like, she won't love you like me.”

The music fizzled out into silence, the producers counting down as you stayed still- 3,2,1 cut! In pursuit of the feeling of reckless freedom, Hongjoong had lost the one person he claimed made him feel like he belonged. How unfortunate for him, you mused, as the studio erupted in claps, the producers grinning widely and everybody smiling at each other. In the middle of the chaos, the door swung open- His eyes were wide, short blonde hair a windswept mess against his forehead, the single stalk of your favourite flower hanging limp in his hands. Surely there were paint marks on his cuffs, and the tiny earring would jingle prettily when he moved, but as his gaze met your dead ones, you could only think one thing-

She won't love you like, she won't love you like me.

Thank you for reading! Do let me know what you think~ xoxo, Elliana.

Network Tag: @kpopscape​

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 7)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Speed of Sound

Next Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Double Update today, because these two chapters go hand in hand. It didn't feel right to upload one without the other.

Chapter 7: Bird of Flame

You faced Todo off in a clearing. Everyone else was at the far side watching. “Just run away if it gets too much.” You worriedly said to Miwa and Mai pushing them back.

“It’s okay, I’ll hold off any attacks.” Noritoshi assured you. You beamed up at him, “Thanks senpai.”

“Someone’s being awfully friendly today.” Momo half coughed and half murmured out. Noritoshi just gave her the side eye.

As per your style of fighting, you stayed still if you did not know of your opponent’s cursed technique.

“I won’t immobilise you this time since we are sparring.” You called out to Todo. “Fine with me!”

You could hold out your protective space warping around you for several hours. You just had to make sure it was activated in the space around you.

Todo didn’t hesitate to start off with punches and kicks. Nothing moved you of course. 5 minutes passed with him getting nowhere. Is that all he has?

You narrowed your eyes, but lifted a hand to push him back into a tree. You manipulated its branches such that they were all pointing to him. He was about to hit them until he clapped his hands and suddenly, you were there.

Your eyes widened, barely having time to brace yourself as you guarded for impact. You hit the branches hard. “Shit.” Looks like you might have to use your extended techniques against him.

He was in front of you in a split second and you quickly moved to dodge. You tried to maneuver your way around him, but it was hard to pinpoint the exact origin of the hits as he kept swapping your positions before landing a hit.

Sometimes, when you brace for a hit, he doesn’t swap your positions. How annoying!!! Of course your spacial barrier is still active and taking the hits for you, but it does have its limits.

Moving at mach speed in a short distant range won’t help you too much as it’s better for transport rather than combat.

You breathed out low and slow, before channeling your concentration into your 6th sense. Spatial awareness. Faster and faster, you started bracing for his hits and pushing him back.

And when he was unprepared you lashed out with your hidden twin blade only for him to dodge it. You can’t deny that the 2nd year's have more experience than you in battle. And Todo's specialty is obviously close combat.

You had both blades out now quickly slashing at him dangerously. He avoids it and the slashes cut all the way to the trees behind him.

You gave in, sheathing your blades and turning around to recuperate but he was faster as he finally caught you by the arm. “I got you!”

You grinned. Who got who?

With one hand, you straightened 4 fingers out towards Todo and folded your thumb into your palm. “Extension cursed technique, focus range: Niflheim”. Your applied cursed technique slows down the movement of molecules in an enclosed area, forcing items to freeze.

A layer of ice covered Todo’s entire body. The branches that binded around him were also covered with ice, stretching behind him in an ice pillar.

You quickly released your hand from his hold and slowly breathed to the sky, releasing an icy smokey breath. You turned around with a slow smile. “Checkmate”

He struggled against the ice but, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That is way under 0 degrees celsius. You might lose a limb or 2 Todo senpai.”

He sighed, “I g-g-guh-give!” He could barely utter the words as his teeth chattered. You gently focused on raising the temperature, melting the ice off of Todo first. You couldn’t do it too fast or else he would combust.

As soon as he was free you reached out and applied your reversed cursed technique on him, healing the cold in his body. “Thank you so much for the match! It’s been a while since I felt that much fun in battle!” You excitedly said.

“Good game. As expected of my little sister, you’re very strong.” Todo patted your head. You stared, “Excuse me, whose little sister??”

“You should have buried him y/n!” Momo exclaimed. “Hear hear.” Mai chanted. Mechamaru just said, “I almost got buried by her once. She should have done the same with him.” You just laughed, “It’s okay, I’m satisfied with this.”

You turned to Noritoshi and he walked up to you and Todo went back. At this distance, the others couldn’t hear your conversation. “That was incredible.” He had a very proud smile on his face. “I hope you take our fight seriously as well. That’s all I ask of you.” He whispered.

“Of course I will senpai. But like with Todo senpai, I won’t use immobilisation techniques so we can spar properly okay?”

“Okay” he patted your shoulder and gave it a small squeeze before moving backwards. ‘Kamo clan, blood manipulation. They can manipulate their blood freely.’ you thought to yourself.

Your eyes zeroed in on his bow and arrows. The smell of blood was always on him, but you bet he had blood on those arrows. “Begin!”

He launched arrows at you only for you to stop them. Projectiles were the worst thing he could do. You frowned as you turned the arrows on him and sent them back. He dodged and shot more.

What on earth? This was so ineffective against yo-

He suddenly came from the side and punched you. Diversionary tactics dummy, you didn’t think about it.

You got pushed back from the force but stood your ground. He was insanely fast for a human. He is currently faster than Todo and any of the male cousins whom you’ve fought with.

It was a jarring experience. “Flowing Red Scale” He moved backwards, one eye wide open with a red blood x mark on it.

Your brain went into overdrive in a hurry to connect the dots while you defended against him. Blood. Red blood cells. Oxygen. He’s increasing his physical abilities.

You quickly lashed out with a double kick only for him to bring out a blood bag. “Blood manipulation: Crimson binding”. Blood strands wrapped around you and caged you in.

But you froze them and easily broke it in the process. You hurried to try and bring him down with mixed martial arts, not wanting to hurt him too much.

Sparring with him actually felt like a dance. You dodged and had an instinct as to where the next move would come from, and he was the same. Barely any hits landed on each other for a while.

Ah right, you promised to go hard on him. You put two hands out in a V shape, with palms facing him. Noritoshi’s eyes widened at the familiar hand signs. It’s the very first one you showed him.

“Tatsumaki” A huge horizontal cyclone hit him and forced him back. “Enhanced Gravity: Output level 4%”

“Aarghhh” Noritoshi groaned as he was forced to the ground. You didn’t notice his hands moving.

“Convergence! Piercing blood” a sudden fast stream of blood shot out and grazed your cheek. It would have been worse had you not moved your head aside. Noritoshi’s eyes widened as blood poured from the wound.

You quickly made tree branches hold his hands apart and forced him back onto the ground. You pointed both your twin blades at his head. “I give!”

You released your technique and knelt down. “Are you oka-”

“Are you okay? I hit your face!” He exclaimed in worry, hand hovering just over your cheek. You stared at him in amusement. “It’s a serious matter!!” he insisted.

You covered your face with one hand, then wiped off the blood to reveal a flawless cheek. He gaped, “Reverse cursed technique. I see. Good fight” He wheezed out.

"You actually hit through my defenses in battle. That was amazing Noritoshi senpai." You whispered in amazement. There was something different about the blood he manipulated.

His bond to it was far stronger than your hold over his blood. So if you tried manipulating his blood, it's a low chance that you could get it to attack him.

You can manipulate anything and everything, even at molecular levels to some extent. But you can't produce what's not there. There seems to be a limit to your manipulation over certain items.

"I still lost. Thank you for the match." He said.

You held his hand for the first time as you pulled him up, when suddenly a searing pain hit the inside of your wrist.

"Ouch!" You exclaimed while Noritoshi winced as well. You both pulled back your sleeves to see a large bird surrounded by flames just below the inner wrist on your right hand. Noritoshi had the exact same symbol, but it was in the inner wrist on his left hand.

You quickly pulled over both your sleeves to cover the markings, “Just say we both got wounds, let’s keep this a secret.” You pulled back and acted on purpose, “Good fight. You almost got me there.”

He naturally followed your lead, but there was a brightness to his eyes that told of something else. “.... Yeah you got me. I’ll do my best to catch up to you next time we spar.”

“What happened?” Utahime ran towards the both of you upon seeing you both flinch forward. “No, Utahime sensei we just got some scrapes that stung badly, nothing too bad.”

“I see. I have a first aid kit on hand, feel free to use it if you need to.” She said, and pushed you two back to where everyone else was.

You both stayed at the back watching the other students ask to spar with each other. Noritoshi quietly tugged at your sleeve, hidden from view with his own large and wide sleeves.

You tugged back twice on his sleeve and grabbed his hand to squeeze it. His hands were rough and calloused from fighting, but also had a tenderness and warmth from the way they tried to hold onto yours.

Both your marks flashed with heat when your hands touched. Noritoshi turned to you with all the world's curiosity in his face.

But you pulled back and put some distance between the two of you so it wouldn't look too obvious. "That binding technique that you did earlier was cool. Is it possible for you to manipulate the blood even after I freeze it solid?" You asked to try and divert the attention.

"Actually I haven't tried yet. But I should be able to as the main composition is still my blood." He admitted.

The remaining time left on the field was spent mostly on the others working on their cursed techniques against each other, and with you engaging in tactical discussion with the other students.

You all bid each other goodbye and went your separate ways. Except… Noritoshi mouthed "library" after he waved you off.

You lifted your eyebrows silently in agreement and walked back with the rest of the 1st year's.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[pastelsandpining]

✨ Hey ✨ Can I order a . . . 5, 27, and 33? 👀 With a Zelink as the main course? (TP) <3

this is not my best work and it's incredibly over due but!!

Solace

words: 1526

warnings: as always read with caution; mentions of grief, homesickness

Masterlist | Prompt List | Touch Prompts

------

The Princess of Hyrule was regal and elegant, and everything that any other aspiring queen could only hope to be. Refined, proper, just, and wise beyond her years, and yet, he could see the silent struggle she carried. He did not pretend to know her; he was nothing but a farmhand who’d been given the sword of destiny and knew nothing about running a kingdom, pulling it from ruin, balancing personal trauma atop the trauma of thousands, repairing diplomatic relationships and boundaries, or governing a people that stretched from icy mountains to scalding deserts. The inability to belong in Ordon, to fit in with those who loved him enough to mourn him instead of adapt to who he’d become, did not mean he could insert himself into the life of castles and crowns.

And still, Link found himself keeping an eye on her. The first time he noticed her grabbing her wrist was during a meeting with the general in the early days of his recruitment. He’d pray for forgiveness every night for how he looked at her, studying her as if she could give him whatever it was that he was looking for, and he chastised himself for the needless concern. She was royalty, a goddess reincarnate. She probably had hundreds of people waiting on her constantly, attending to her every need and taking notice of every little sign of distress or trouble. He said nothing to anyone about it, but he still found it odd she’d done it multiple times in what was only a half-hour time frame.

The next time he was close enough to see her repeat the action, a fair amount of time had passed. Princess Zelda had warned him that, should he accept her invitation to join the knights of the castle and teach them what he knew, he would have to undergo months of training before he was deemed of high enough rank to offer any sort of knowledge that could be considered useful. The training was intensive, but it was easy compared to holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It was during the knighting ceremony, when he was watching her instead of listening to the speech of the general, when he saw her grab her wrist. No, not her entire wrist. Two fingers were pressed to one small, specific area—her pulse point. She was checking her pulse.

Such an innocent action made him feel dirty, as if it was something he shouldn’t have noticed. Maybe if he was anyone else, he wouldn’t. But Link had grown very observant of people and their actions within the last few years. If only he knew what it meant, but he didn’t.

For all of the courage he possessed, it took a little bit of liquid luck to get him to ask. She’d cordially invited him to a small celebration (why specifically for him, he would never know) that same night, and maybe both of them were drinking for some sort of anesthetic relief.

“It reminds me that I’m alive,” she answered, lifting her fingers to the pulse point in her wrist again, “at times my body no longer feels like myself, or when I remember what it looked like, limp and lifeless.”

“Is it comforting?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know.”

A beat of awkward silence hovered in the air between them. Then, Zelda held her wrist out towards him. An invitation, maybe--or at least, that’s what he took it as, cupping her hand in one of his own to support it while the other settled two of its fingers against the artery in her wrist. The beat was steady and strong. The feeling was visceral, and he didn’t know why. What was it about the steady beat of blood traveling to and from the heart that set him off, had him thinking about her, and of Midna, and of Ilia, and of home? All things he’d lost to the twisted strings of fate, left only with a princess he wanted so desperately to but couldn’t reach. That was the cost no one ever spoke of, and he knew she felt it too. Maybe it was his offer of help, or maybe it was the one selfish thing he’d done since he left Ordon, but he lifted her hand just high enough to brush his lips against her pulse.

Link did not see the princess again for another month. He was whisked away to some outpost to keep a careful eye on the activity of a bokoblin pack, something boring that left him feeling limp and drained and longing for any sort of companionship. Sure, he got along well enough with other knights, particularly those he’d been training with, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like the relationship he’d had with Ilia, or the closeness he had with Midna, or whatever he craved from Zelda.

When he did return, a too many, thirty-something days later, he wasn’t sure what he expected. He didn’t think he was fit for anything with the princess, but here she was, a mere few hours after his arrival, at the brink of tears as she asked, in a voice too small to fit the big role she filled, to speak with him.

Maybe the lack of company had gotten to her, too. He didn’t pretend to know her enough to make the assumption.

The garden was the most secluded place outside of her bedroom and as soon as she deemed they were far enough, she broke into a fit of sobs. Link had never seen the composed princess fall apart before. He couldn’t even ask what was wrong. All he could do was watch her in surprise, wracking his brain for what he was supposed to do when his superior in every way of existence cried.

Without a word, she held up a reflective shard that took no time to recognize as he took it from her hands. The weight shifted immediately, making him feel homesick for something he no longer had.

“Why do you have this?” he asked softly, fighting to look at Zelda instead of the Mirror of Twilight piece that he wasn’t sure he could trust his reflection with.

“It reminds me of… a dear friend,” she replied in the breaks between her gasps for breath. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have it. I should’ve given it to you sooner.”

She looked so...guilty over something. He didn’t understand where it was coming from, or why she was so sorry over something so trivial.

“It’s yours,” he argued. “Why give it to me?”

“You were close to her in a way I never could be.”

Link frowned, lowering the shard in favor of looking at her. She looked a mess. How long had she given herself to the effects of the mirror?

“That’s ridiculous,” he whispered as he placed the shard down on a bench, as far away from her as it could possibly get at that moment. “She loved you.”

“Why do we talk about her like she’s dead?”

Hylia above, he was so useless. He reached for her, circling his hand around hers, and searched for her pulse point. It seemed to ground her enough to where she could breathe again. When the gasps finally stopped, he pulled her towards him and wrapped her in a hug. It was all he could do as he whispered back, “It’s easier to let go that way.”

And just like that, the people of Ordon made sense to him. Just like that, Zelda dug her fingers into the back of his shirt and held him a little tighter. Just like that, whatever barrier was holding him back from pursuing a friendship, from being selfish just a little bit more, was broken.

Months of conversations between meals, or on night walks, brought them closer than he ever thought he’d get to be. Maybe, finally, Link was starting to heal from all he’d faced. Maybe she was starting too, as well. The dark circles were fading and she was gaining some well needed weight. She looked healthier, smiled easier, and he knew her well enough to make that assumption.

The turning point was the night of her coronation. Zelda felt well enough to pursue her crown, and they celebrated on their own after the grand ceremony, sipping wine and twirling each other about in her bedroom.

She was laughing. Her smile was beautiful and he couldn’t help grinning right back. Link hadn’t felt this warm, this complete in a long time. Maybe she felt it too, because she tugged him closer by the hands and covered his smile with her lips.

This was what he was looking for, he was sure. A sense of belonging, and never had he expected to find it with the queen of Hyrule, who was so far out of his league. She’d never hear it of course, which would lead to many playful arguments in the future, but for now, he was happy to kiss her, feel her pulse, and hug her close enough to restore the warmth he lost when he had to be away.

[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class 

What the fuck did the government do to him? 

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything. 

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. 

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox. 

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else. 

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore. 

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free. 

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid. 

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green. 

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care. 

But you do care. 

He didn’t.

He was numb. 

Eat up like a good little dog. 

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?” 

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips. 

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich. 

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma. 

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them. 

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side. 

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm. 

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand. 

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost. 

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth. 

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk. 

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today. 

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair. 

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.” 

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game. 

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic. 

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned. 

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand. 

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did. 

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him. 

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago. 

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away. 

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying? 

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again. 

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think. 

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed. 

He was weak. 

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine. 

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[ceoofanticatradora]

We need more anti C//A who are Adora stans (like you seem to be) so that people can understand that C///A is bad for Adora. Heck C//A is bad for Catra too, but the shippers don't seem to realize it. If Catra had been able to let Adora go maybe she could have healed instead of her festering and the abuse may have ended instead of escalated.

Hello Dear, welcome on my Blog and a big thank you for your message! Firstly I wanna apologize that this response is reaching you more than three full days, almost four later. Just real life getting into the way of my online presence (at least I got my A-Levels admission!) but I assure you that replying to you was on my To Do List the entire time. And while I could've typed something quick, I thought you deserved a full length response just as much as the person before you received. That goes for anyone really to ask/write me anything in the future.

Adora is a character that has flaws, her own interests, things she struggles with/is insecure about etc. but she also still works on being better (up to Season 5). This makes her relatable, fleshed out and overall three dimensional. Overall for me that makes Adora very likeable. Which is funny because when I first watched the show I thought of her as too goofy and felt like she as a character was overall just flat. Her character design did not speak to me either, the ponytail with the weird hair poof and these pointy shoulders of her jacket just really were not my taste. Isn't it amazing how perceptions can change?

As you can guess from that description I did not always stan Adora and she's probably still not my favorite character but over the almost two years I've been in this fandom I've grown rather fond of her. Other important characters to me are Kyle (a very relatable comfort character of mine, he learned to stand up for himself and others and I support that, f*ck Season 5 for barely acknowledging his existence), Lonnie (apart from treating Kyle badly (which I really do NOT support or excuse) I really love her, man, some women just do me like that, I mean she really stood up to Catra like that), Entrapta (I'm autistic too! It's great to have some representation, seeing the ableism/treatment she experiences in the show is not so much though), Seahawk (I don't even know why, I have some issues with his behavior towards Mermista at times but overall I love this dork), Scorpia (she reminds me of myself so much and I really wanna give her hugs, I'm so glad she chose to no longer let Catra treat her like that even though I will be forever salty she just immediately forgave her), Peekablue (I can explain this even less than Seahawk, especially since it was not even really him in the end but his existence somehow helped me cope with Season 5, without him I probably would've left this fandom ... and also my favorite color is blue) and Double Trouble (now there's enough people already critcizing how they're not exactly great Non-binary representation but this dramatic lizard will forever be in my heart, that reality check they gave Catra, basically slapping her in the face with facts was satisfying as h*ck, also I like lizards overall).

Now there's plenty of characters I like, dislike (or even hate) or am simply indifferent about but after all this is not a tier list but me talking about Adora, Catra and Catradora. Adora started off as this girl that was so sure what she was doing is right but once she was taught differently she was willing to leave everything she knew (except Catra, because she valued her despite everything) behind. And not only that, she broke out of the abuse cycle that Catra tried so hard to keep upright. And that is exactly what makes Adora such a good role model. She teaches children (or people) that:

Your past doesn't define what/who you are or what/who you can become

-> Adora used to be a Horde soldier and did not know where she came from, but nonetheless she found herself a family and became a hero that saved thousands of people

You can always change your mind and start a new life if you feel disappointed in what you are doing/who you are as a person

-> Basically the exact same point, Adora started a new life as she saw what the Horde really was and changed her mind about who to fight for

You deserve love too, be it platonic or romantic (or se*ual???) (If you're aro and/or ace just ignore the part that does not work for you)

-> While Adora for various reasons thought her only use was to please others and meet their needs and expectations (mostly due to Shadow Weaver and Catra) she learned to accept that she too deserves love and validation (if the love aspect would not have been focused on it being romantic love so she could smooch Catra in the finale this would've been a billion times better because she got love from her friends that showed her her real value)

You can walk away from something/someone, that does not make you egoistic/selfish

-> Adora walked away from the Horde, after Catra stubbornly refused to come with her despite many offers (basically Catra broke the promise, not Adora) from her too and that did not make her a "traitor" or "selfish", h*ck, Adora in the end did this for a bigger purpose too, even if part of it was her not wanting to live with such wrong morals

Your opinions, feelings etc. about a person/something can change and that is perfectly fine and valid, being able to change is part of what makes someone human

-> Adora's views on many things changed throughout the show: The Horde and the Rebellion, the First Ones, Catra, being She-Ra, herself, her priorities and so on ... she actually makes use of her brain, which is why Catra saying "Don't you ge it?" or calling her an idiot and dumb never sat right with me, she's a realistic character for shifting with her thoughts, feelings etc. and sometimes just does not fully think things through

You don't have to let other people treat you like sh*t (just because they have some issues they never worked through does not give them any right to let it out on you)

-> This point is obviously centered mostly around Catra and her abusing Adora almost every chance she gets, which is why Adora standing up for herself and not letting Catra blame her for her own decisions and mistakes is so important, "You made your choice, now live with it" is one of the most powerful lines throughout all the five Seasons

Now I'm sure there is still more to Adora's character than what I just listed and unfortunately almost all the points basically got pushed aside, well, Adora as a character got pushed aside in Season 5. All her growth, the things that made me love her, see her as great role model for so many people robbed of their value for the sake of making everything revolve around Catra. That brings me to her and how you are absolutely right that Catradora is harmful to both characters. Of course Adora is affected most by it in the end but Catra too is obviously suffering under the fandoms obsession and just the overall idea of them being romantically involved.

Just like with Adora the stans make almost everything about Catra over her relationship with Adora. She too can barely exist outside of it and if she wasn't the fan favorite she'd most likely would too be mostly in Fanarts that include Adora and not just her (if you google "Catra Fanart" most content is still Catra and Catra only but here and there Catradora still peaks through). But for whatever reason the fandom still views her more as her own person as the other ones? Catrouble and Scorptra Shippers might actually still get less hate than Glimmadora Shippers (I'm not denying they don't get any, they most certaintly do) which is just plain hypocricy and favorism. Kinda like the: A woman needs to be loyal to her husband and her husband only but if the husband wants to be active with other women that is perfectly fine because "that is just how men are" or how i like to call it ... sexism. Now in this case they are both women so it's not sexism but yo do get my point.

But much more importantly, Catra has an unhealthy obsession with Adora. Signs of that are for example:

Constantly talking about Adora, even when said person is not around (to Shadow Weaver, Scorpia etc.)

Obsessing over having control over Adora like in that one Episode "Are you kidding? I finally got control over Adora, I'm not giving that up!"

Building her entire character and her actions around Adora "We need to take Adora down", "Adora left me", "I'd rather see the whole world end than see you win!", also shown in Season 5 where she states she does save Glimmer only for Adora and not for Glimmer or to do the right thing

Getting aggressive or very emotional over Adora like clawing the wall, having nightmares etc. (destructive behavior towards herself and others)

Having no or barely any characteristics outside of her relationship with Adora like, we don't know her interests or likes and dislikes outside of being evil, obsessed with Adora, being abused by Shadow Weaver ...

Trying to force Adora to meet her needs and expectations regardless of Adora's owns

Sacrificing her oppurtunity to be happy in the Crimson Waste for the sake of her Adora obsession and being better than her at all costs

So yes, you were very right with saying that not putting Catra in a relationship with Adora would've benefited both characters. Catra could've learned to exist on her own, develop interests and a life outside of Adora. Learn to accept herself and eventually come to terms with her childhood abuse. She could've been free and not "the abusive cat girl that ended up with the person she unhealthily obsessed over to the point of no return" she kinda is now. Even if we ignore the whole "dating your long term abuser" part from Adora's side and "being rewarded" for horrible behavior, Catra alone is not giving a good example to people watching. As much as I dislike Catra, disdain her even, an ending where she is dependent on Adora, unable to stand on her own two legs after she led armies in war is not what I would wish for her, even with a decent redemption arc (that she did not get).

[transparenthologramrebel]

My po3 OFTS au is a thing now (Chapter 2 electric boogaloo)

Chapter 2

Hollyleaf POV

“Thornclaw, take Bracken fur with you to collect some moss for bedding. Brambleclaw organize a hunting patrol, we lost all of our prey in the fire. I don’t want the queens and elders going hungry tonight.” Firestar instructed as he walked through the camp assessing the damage. Hollyleaf was working with Cinderheart on dismantling the burned parts of the warriors den. Hollyleaf and her brothers found Thunderclan sheltering in the old two legs nest on the far side of the territory. Thunderclan sheltered in the nest for the night and returned to the ruin camp at early sunrise. The camp was now bustling with activity as cats worked to clear the debris left behind and assess the damage. Hollyleaf watched as Brambleclaw nodded to Firestar before taking Berrynose, Honeyfern, and Sorreltail out of camp. The reunion had been brief with Brambleclaw when the three returned to the clan. Not that Hollyleaf could look at him the same after the revelation on the clifftop.

“Is he really like Tigerstar? Is he just waiting for Firestar to pass so he can take over?...Is he really cruel to Squirrelflight?” Hollyleaf thought as she watched him leave. She had heard tales of infamous fights between her former parents, but she had never witnessed it herself. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mere thought of the word ‘parents’. Squrrielflight had returned safely to Thunderclan as well, but Hollyleaf and her brothers refused to acknowledge her. Hollyleaf’s shock and rage from the night before had sat with her throughout the night and now turned to bitter anger and disgust. She doubted she would ever speak to Squirrelflight again after her betrayal. 

“Hollyleaf are you alright?” Cinderheart’s soft voice broke Hollyleaf out of her mind. 

“Huh..uh yes...I’m fine…” Hollyleaf said, beginning to strip the warriors' den again. Cinderheart ran her tail down Hollyleaf’s spine reassuringly. 

“I can tell when something is on your mind, you know.” She said with a purr. 

Hollyleaf sighed heavily, knowing her best friend was right. She had always struggled to lie to her. She spotted Ashfur who was busy helping Ferncloud repair the nursery. Her fur prickled with anxiety and rage. 

“I wished the flames had consumed him! He’s a traitor to the clan and the warrior code!” she thought angrily, as the memories of last night filled her storm filled mind. 

“Hollyleaf?” Cinderheart chimed again.

“I...uh..yes...sorry..I’m just...last night was a lot...we almost didn’t make it.” Cinderheart stared at her, her eyes soft with empathy.

“I know, I was so scared when you, LionBlaze and Jayfeather weren’t with the clan. I thought you....” Cinderheart's voice faded into a whisper and she pressed her head under Hollyleaf’s chin. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” Hollyleaf’s chest rumbled with a purr as she rested her chin on her best friend’s head. 

“I’m glad you’re alright too.” 

“How is Lionblaze? I...I haven’t been able to talk to him last night. I want to make sure he’s alright.” Cinderheart asked as the two friends once again returned to her work. 

Hollyleaf blinked as she pondered the question. Lionblaze...why was she asking about Lionblaze specifically? As Hollyleaf thought about a good way to respond, the answer to why Cinderheart was asking hit her like a monster.

“Dear Starclan, she has a crush on my brother! That’s the last thing we need right now!” Hollyleaf thought, feeling her emotions in a whirl.

Hollyleaf grunted as she struggled to pull one of the branches off the den, she was too wrapped up in her mind. 

“Here let me help,” Cinderheart grasped the branch in her jaws as well, and they pulled it off together. Hollyleaf dropped the branch, licking her paw and ran it over her muzzle.  

“Lionblaze is alright. We’re all pretty shaken up.” She finally squeaked out. 

“I’ll have to check on him later. Perhaps I can go hunting and bring him back a fresh vole.”

Hollyleaf stared at Cinderheart who was now staring at her brother across the camp. Cinderheart quivered with a nervous yet steady purr. Her eyes were half closed with contentment. Hollyleaf felt slightly envious. She doubted she would ever find a mate or even find a time in her life to. She was part of the three, she had a larger destiny and that also included becoming leader of Thunderclan one day if she had the chance. 

Lionblaze now having taken notice of the two she cats trotted over to them. 

“Hollyleaf, Jayfeather needs us to go with him to find herbs. A lot was still destroyed in the fire,” he said before turning to Cinderheart. “I’ll try to bring back some prey for you while we’re gone.” 

Hollyleaf felt herself roll her eyes so hard they would pop out. 

Cinderheart purred as she ran her tail over Lionblaze’s shoulder.

“Thank you. You should go Hollyleaf, I’ll get Foxpaw to help me finish with the warriors den.” Hollyleaf nodded following her brother over to Jayfeather who was already waiting for them at the now cleared tunnel. 

The three siblings headed out into the forest. The scent of smoke and fire hung heavy in the air, the trees were blackened and their bark crumbled at the touch. Even the dead leaves that had littered the forest floor had turned to nothing but soot. Hollyleaf sighed, heaviness hung in her chest as she lifted her paw that was now blackened. 

“Everything is destroyed. It’s going to take a long time for the forest to heal. Is Thunderclan going to make it?” She wondered, continuing to follow after her brothers. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night.” Jayfeather finally spoke, as they were now far out of earshot of other cats. 

“Agreed.” Lionblaze chimed in. “First things first we need to stop Ashfur from telling the clan.” Hollyleaf rolled her eyes.

“I doubt that fox heart will do anything. He got what he wanted… he hurt Squirrelflight by making her tell us the truth. He’s torn our family apart.” Hollyleaf growled her ears pinned back. She wished Ashfur was in front of her now so she could tear his pelt off. Lionblaze scoffs at his sister. 

“Do you really think that? You saw him last night! He was willing to let that fire kill us! I’m sure he would have! You don’t know Ashfur like I do! He was my mentor and let me tell you he will do anything to hurt Squirrelflight!” Lionblaze snapped, his claws flexing digging into the soft sooty earth.

“Perhaps we should let him tell the clan.” Jayfeather muttered. Hollyleaf spun looking at her brother letting out an astonished gasp.

“Do you have bees in your brain!?” she growled at him.

“Squrrielflight already let the truth out. The consequences will come no matter what….its just a matter of time. Besides what will Ashfur say? That he threatened to let us burn to death all over his inability to let Squirrelflight go?” Jayfeather’s voice was very matter of fact. “He will be exiled or even killed, but I doubt he’s thought that far ahead. He’s too blinded with rage. Squirrelflight could possibly be exiled, but I doubt Firestar would do that to his daughter.”

“What about us?” Hollyleaf quickly reminded him. “Thunderclan will turn on us if they find out the truth! What will our clan mates think, even if we aren’t exiled...wait...if we’re not Squrrielflight’s kits are we even the three…” Hollyleaf’s voice trailed off into a whisper. Her stomach felt like it was in knots, her legs felt like they would buckle, as she struggled to breath.

“Starclan how could we be so mouse brained! There’s nothing special about us!” Hollyleaf wailed. “Of course Jayfeather can see into dreams he’s a medicine cat! Lionblaze you’re just a warrior any cat could fight as well as you with practice...and I’m just ....” Hollyleaf wailed, her voice trailing off into a whimper. Hollyleaf had always wondered when her power would appear. Jayfeather and Lionblaze had always seemed to have had their powers since kithood, yet she had been left behind. Now she knew why, they were ordinary cats. They weren’t chosen by Starclan if anything Starclan hated them! 

Lionblaze stepped closer to his sister running his tail down her spine. Hollyleaf sighed heavily leaning against her brother, taking comfort in her brother. 

“I don’t think that's true...we have to be related to Firestar in some way!” he reassured her. 

“But we aren’t! There’s no possible way! The only way we could be related to Firestar is through Leafpool and she’s a medicine cat! She can’t have a mate or kits!” Hollyleaf growled. Her tail lashed as her fur bristled standing on end. She felt like she couldn’t breath, her whole world was collapsing in on her and Ashfur had been the one to take it away. Hollyleaf bared her teeth, scrapping at the dirt with her claws sending chunks of earth behind her.

“We should kill him...that would silence him forever.” she hissed. Her brothers looked at her bewildered. 

“Hollyleaf we can’t do that...if we did we would actually be exiled then!” Lionblaze spoke, his voice lowered in bewilderment. Jayfeather calmly laid his tail on her shoulder. Hollyleaf turned and looked at him, as she did she felt her rage beginning to cool. Jayfeather’s face was soft with reassurement, but also filled with extreme worry. 

“Don’t worry we’ll find a way to stop him. I’ll walk in his dreams, maybe the threat of the wrath of Starclan will be enough to scare him into silence.” he said, his voice a bit more chipper, hopeful even. Hollyleaf’s fur fell flat and she sighed.

“We should still keep the secret to ourselves....after we stop Ashfur from ever speaking about this we need to find who our parents are.” she planned. Her brothers nodded in agreement. As the three went to finally find herbs and prey Hollyleaf made a promise to herself.

If Jayfeather couldn’t stop Ashfur, she would in any way possible. 

[jinmindeulle]

the art of love | cs

pairing: choi san x reader ft. mentions of park seonghwa 

word count: 5.1k

genre: artist!reader, florist!san, exes to lovers au | angst, fluff

warnings: minor swearing

find ateez’s masterlist here!

enjoy ♥

How many deep breaths did I have to take to put myself together every time I started driving back to my hometown?

I think I stopped counting five years ago. It didn’t matter how many times I had done that, it had always driven me crazy.

But this time, it was worse.

“Please, text me when you’re on your way. Let’s meet at Jjinsong’s Café before going home. Be safe, love you!”

Yet, I couldn’t be mad. I missed my family too much to be upset over that. It’s been seven years, y/n, get over it!

I replied to my sister with a short message full of heart emojis and I put my phone inside my pocket. I started the car and glanced at my (ex?) apartment floor. Hope to see you empty when I get back.

Last time I visited my family’s home in Namhae, it was all tears and sad eyes. Making my way back to Seoul was one of the hardest things for me. However, every time I went back to the capital city, the driver’s seat was always taken by the same man, who at least tried to make my trip bearable by holding one of my hands when he could. But that day, I was the one driving, all alone.

I couldn’t break the news to my mother over the phone. She had gotten attached to him over the years. But she didn’t knew the whole truth, and honestly, going back to Namhae was way cheaper than calling my mom to tell her that I had rejected my boyfriend’s marriage proposal without second thoughts, and that my life was just a mess in general.

And I also needed to see her, my dad, my sister and my nephews. They were going to help healing my open scars. At least try to.

I picked a random playlist and kept it on repeat the whole trip. Fortunately, being a Thursday, the traffic was not that bad, especially at such an early hour. I really didn’t want to stay under that roof any longer. I felt miserable there. Why did I have to put it off that much?

“Why did you have to put it off that much?”

“I wonder exactly the same”

My sister looked at me with a raised eyebrow while she quietly sipped her coffee.

It had always amazed me how calm and collected Eunjung acted and reflected in situations like mine. She would never get upset unless it was the end of the world, and that hardly ever happened.

“I knew something was wrong since the last time you came home with him”

“But it was not that bad back then”

“You sure?”

“Well…”

He had been promoted a week before and his father had announced that he was soon going to retire, leaving him his position as CEO of one of the greatest companies in South Korea. It had easily gone to his head, and I wasn’t able to stand staying in the same room every time he brought that up.

“Maybe you’re right” I sighed, quietly stirring my own coffee. “I honestly don’t know, Jung. I didn’t like to think about it because it meant doing something about it. And I think I was way too comfortable living like that to try and change it.”

“And he made you do it”

“Pretty much, yes. I couldn’t get married to him. I don’t think I loved him enough to sacrifice what I wanted in life just for him”

“I’m glad you did that, y/n. It means you’re still chasing your dreams”

“I mean, yeah. I have always been. Not actively, but I kept dreaming about having my very own gallery, and everyone in Seoul wanting to have my art pieces on their living room’s walls.”

“Why not everyone in the country? Or in the world?”

“My dreams are more of the realistic type, Jung” I chuckled, munching my last chocolate cookie.

“How are you going to tell mom?”

“With your help?” I smiled innocently, trying to display the best puppy face I could master.

“And how do you want me to do that? ‘Hi mom, y/n here broke up with Seonghwa right after he proposed to her because it was not the life she wanted! Please don’t be that happy, it will break her poor heart!’”

“Eunjung! Please!” I begged “She won’t leave me alone and…”

“She will” my oldest and only sister interrupted me, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. “There’s been a rumour going around…”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

Eunjung sipped from her blue coffee mug and looked at me with the same innocent eyes I had displayed some seconds ago. Then, she quietly put the mug down and got closer to me over the wooden table, encouraging me to do the same. Once we were close enough to avoid being heard by the rest of the customers, she whispered in my ear.

“Rumour has it that Choi San is getting divorced”

I resoundingly sat back down, looking at my sister with a mix of weird emotions in my eyes. I hadn’t heard his name in ages. Not because I happened to not hear it, but just because I had deliberately asked my family not to bring his name up when I was around.

“Eunjung…”

“His wife cheated on him”

“Please, stop” I murmured, tightly closing my eyes, trying to get rid of the million memories that my brain decided to bring back after so many years of suppressing them. “You know how I feel about him”

“You’re telling me that after more than seven years you’re still upset about him and what you went through? You were like twenty years old, c’mon! You’re a woman now, y/n!”

“I was twenty two, and yes, I’m over it. But I don’t want to know, hear or talk about him. He’s dead to me. He’s been dead to me since the day I moved to Seoul, and will be until the end of my days”

“I didn’t know it was that deep”

“You were too busy taking care of your babies, Jung. And I’m not complaining here, I just know that you never got the full story, but it’s OK. It’s in the past now”

“You sure?”

“Stop making me question my life!” I cried, throwing a used paper napkin right at her face.

“What do you want me to say?”

My mom had always been understanding. She would calmly nod and hug me, telling me that everything was going to be okay, and letting me soak her blouse with my teenage tears. However, there were situations in which you could never guess what her reaction would be. And that was one of those times.

“Honey, I think we all knew that you were going to end things with that guy” my dad intercepted “but we weren’t aware of the fact that it was that bad”

“In all honestly, I wasn’t either” I murmured “it was just my routine. I had been waking up next to him for nearly five years. I had a job that let me live comfortably and not worry about anything else than buying expensive clothes every now and then because I was supposed to be accompanying Seonghwa in every fucking company’s party” I allowed me to cry for the first time, letting the pain and desperation out “I was living like a damn princess. But I never wanted that. I had never wanted that!” I sobbed. A pair of gentle arms held me tight, and I instantly knew that it was my mom. I hugged her back, holding onto her like she was the only oxygen mask available in a crashing plane.

“I know dear, I know. And I’m proud of you. You did what you wanted to do, because you should always do that. And it’s OK. It will never be a bad thing to follow your heart, y/n”

I nodded, drying the flowing tears with the back of my sleeve. “Thank you mom, dad. I love you”

“We love you too, darling” my dad affectionately kissed my cheek, chuckling when I showed him a weak smile. “Why don’t you take a shower while I finish preparing lunch? I bet your nephews want to see you as much as you do”

“Yeah, will do” I nodded, grabbing my large pastel purple suitcase. “I need to recharge before seeing those little demons”

The whole Thursday and the day before had been an emotional rollercoaster, so I expected to get the sleep I deserved. But sometimes things don’t go as planned. Just like my life, really.

The first night that I slept in my old room was just a blessing. No alarm clocks were rushing me out of bed, no angry faces were shaking me out of sleep, and no boring tasks were waiting for me in my office’s desk.  

“Aunt, wake up!”

I opened one of my eyes when the curtain was drawn and sunlight hit my face. I was about to bury my head in one of my pillows when the oldest of my nephews, Jiwon, took it away from me and slapped me with it.

“Mommy’s taking us to the park so we can have a picnic as breakfast!”

“And told us to wake you up so you can go with us!”

“Please, auntie! Wake up!”

I wanted to scream. I swear to God I loved those kids, but sometimes they made me think twice about having my own in the future. Yeah, well, it won’t happen anyways. You’re single now, and you’ll probably be forever.

“C’mon auntie! Or mommy will be upset!” Jihwan cried.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Go tell your mom that I’ll be downstairs in like 10 minutes”

“Okey dokey!”

Getting ready in the mornings was not my favourite thing to do. I liked to pick whatever was clean in my closet and wear it like it was a Prada dress. Nonetheless, it was never like that for me. I had to be well dressed. I had to wear the actual Prada dress. I just couldn’t choose.

But that day, I could.

After taking a shower, I took my old, worn out pair of jeans out of my suitcase and put them on.

“It’s been so long since I wore these jeans” I whispered, caressing the fabric.

Next, I chose a simple, colourful shirt that I myself had intervened years ago, and tucked it in. The most comfortable pair of sneakers finished my look.

“You look like you’re twenty again”

“Oh Lord Jesus, knock next time!” I shouted, startled by my sister’s voice.

“You’re back to being you. I like that” she smiled at me from the door frame. “But hurry up! These kids are driving me crazy down there”

Taking a look around that familiar yet so long forgotten park, made me feel emotional once again. That was the reason why I always tried to avoid it every time I decided to return to Namhae. My hometown brought back too many memories, memories that I had decided to erase seven years ago.

But I was tired of it. And at that moment, my future was uncertain — what I had always feared the most. Bringing back painful memories was nothing for me at that point.

“Fluffy is crazy!”

“Give it to me, Hwanie” I took the red dog leash from my youngest nephew’s hand, trying to prevent the huge dog from running around the park chasing the ducks, and probably throwing to the ground the old ladies that were feeding them. “When did this dog get this big?”

“We are feeding him puppy food that makes him stronger, auntie!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t d… Fluffly!” the dog was able to release himself from the leash while I was giving wise advice, and started running towards the ducks, leaving us four way too far away to stop him before a massacre happened.

“Oh no!”

I reacted as fast as I could, although I knew I was way too late. My legs were not that fast, and even if they were, how was I supposed to have enough strength to pull him away from innocent ducks and old ladies?

Just when he was about to throw himself over the lake, a man in a black hoodie that covered most of his form took him from his collar and kept him under control. I kept running towards them, busy thinking about what that crazy dog would do to the stranger if he made a false step.

But I was stunned — and out of breath — when I found out that the beast was happily wagging his tail to the man, while he petted him. “Are you still misbehaving, Fluffy? Didn’t I teach you to stay calm near the ducks?”

“Uhm… hi?” I breathed out, trying to call attention to the man who still had his back to me. “The dog…”

“Are you still struggling to ta…”

My eyes watered in a matter of seconds. The man that I was successfully avoiding for years was standing right in front of me, looking the way I remembered him, like seven years had done nothing to him.

But he looked tired. Like he was going through hell and was needing a break from it all. His eyes had all the time shown his feelings, and back then, I was the only one able to read him like an open book. I knew in an instant that he was feeling like crap, but there was something else.

And maybe he was not the man that I used to know. Well, not maybe. He wasn’t the Choi San I had been in love with. The Choi San that I had cherished like no one else, who I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with and grow old together.

And I was not the same either.

“I…”

“It’s been so long” he sighed, looking me in the eye. I felt intimidated. I had forgotten how powerful his glances were, no matter the situation. He had always managed to do that to me, and I wasn’t ready to go through it once again. I had been invested in studying his glances way too many times in the past, and I was never able to reach a reasonable conclusion. So I just settled for leaving that matter alone.

“Yeah…” I exhaled, playing with the read leash in my hands.

“I didn’t know you were visiting your family”

“You know when I come here?”

“Of course I do. Everybody knows. It’s a small town, y/n”

I closed my eyes tightly upon hearing my name leave his lips. I felt like crying all over again, and I wasn’t willing to let him see me like that anymore. He had had enough of it. We both had.

“Should have guessed it” I nodded, looking down and avoiding his gaze. “Can you give me Fluffy back?”  

“Oh yeah, sorry” he petted the dog for the last time while I secured the leash back on his collar “He’s been misbehaving a lot lately”

“You know him?”

“I helped Eunjung a couple of times with him. She told me it’s been hard to keep him quiet when they take him out to the park so I offered to help. I need to take a break from life sometimes, and he’s great company”

“He seems to like you a lot” I smiled weakly, looking down at the happy dog who was still wagging his tail while looking at San with what seemed like adoration.

“I think so, yeah” he giggled softly, petting him once again. “He’s nice, but he needs some rules before it goes out of hand”

“I’ll make sure to tame him, then”

“You’re staying?” I mustered all of my courage, and looked up to meet his eyes. His voice tone had changed tremendously, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. This was a new Choi San for me after all.

“For some weeks, yeah. I still don’t know how many, to be honest”

“You’re on a little vacation with your boyfriend?”

“I…” I was about to reply, but then it just hit me. I was talking to Choi San, the man that had marked my whole existence with burning, hurtful words. He had given me everything and taken it away from me as fast as he could. So no, I was not giving him explanations. “Yeah. Well, goodbye, San.”

And I left as fast as I got there.

After my encounter with San, I kept thinking about him and everything that happened in those years together. Not only the tragic ending, but also the beautiful things. And that made me realize that I could at least get part of it back.

Although Eunjung saw everything, she didn’t bring it up. She knew that I was struggling — and I’m pretty sure she heard me that night.

So while a soft breeze accompanied me as I was watching the night skies in the petit balcony of my room, I decided to make my way towards the basement to find the boxes full of the stuff I had left there and never used ever again. Many oleos were dry and unusable, but some others seemed to be just fine. I took one of the empty canvases and my easel as well as my collection of paintbrushes, and went back to my balcony.

“How had I missed you” I whispered, looking at my empty canvas. Tears gathered in my eyes, and a sad smile appeared on my lips as they rolled down my cheeks. “I really missed this”

But although I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than a soft stroke which was supposed to be the very same night sky above me.

My hand didn’t respond. It was painful.

So I let it all out. My desperate cries were most probably heard around the neighbourhood, but that was my last concern. The only thing that was supposed to make me happy turned out to be a total failure.

I had no purpose. I had ruined my career as a painter years ago. Why would I paint a night sky that would be seen by no one but me? That would be recognized by no one but me?

San was right.

He had been right all along.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you ran into San yesterday?”

Mornings at home were usually not that noisy, but that day it had to be. My mom had organized a tea party with her girlfriends, and I was supposed to help her out as the only one who was free around the house. My dad was out of town for the weekend because of work, and my sister decided to go out with her sons, probably trying to get away from our mom’s demands.

“Eunjung told you?” I sighed, mixing the cupcake mix faster than I was supposed to so that I could get out of there.

“Yep” she nodded.

“I don’t want to talk about him. You know he’s dead to me”

But even though I said it bluntly, I was feeling like that sentence had no meaning to me anymore.

“You’re being too rude, y/n”

“I’m being honest, mom.” I stopped my eager mixing and looked at her, supporting my weight against the kitchen counter, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you and everyone in this town love San. But I don’t, and I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Please”

“Fine” she sighed “Then lend me a hand with the stra— oh Dear God!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was supposed to bake a strawberry cake but I totally forgot about buying the strawberries”

I rolled my eyes. Totally my mom’s behaviour. “I’ll go to the supermarket. Anything else?”

I shouldn’t have asked that.

Making my way down the aisles, I struggled to find everything that my mom asked me to buy.

“Where the hell are these fucking powders?” I murmured, slowly walking with my cart and carefully reading each package. “Well, not here”

I looked in front of me to check the signs over the aisles, but my eyes encountered something very different.

A painted night sky.

I knew that painting. I knew that night sky.

Those soft strokes and the shiny details on the moon were familiar. Too familiar.

Of course. They were mine.

And once I understood that I was not looking at an actual painting but the back of an intervened denim jacket, it all came crushing down once again.

But I didn’t have enough time to run away.

He turned around and saw me. I froze like I hadn’t just seen him the day before. My eyes became glossy once again. Keep it together, y/n!

“I thought that yesterday was a coincidence. But I don’t believe that anymore”

San was right in front of me now, a couple of meters away from me. He was carrying some instant noodles in his hands and a bottle of water.

“Let’s not do this, please” I shook my head, tightly gripping the cart’s handle.

“We need to talk, y/n”

“There’s nothing to talk about, San” I gasped, avoiding his eyes.

“If your eyes keep watering whenever you see me and my heart keeps pounding whenever I see you, then yes, there’s a lot of talking to do” he calmly stated, taking a step closer to me “I know you have been avoiding me, and I cannot blame you alone. I also had whenever I knew you were around. But this needs to stop” he sighed “I am aware of the fact that you’re in a relationship and I don’t int—“

“I’m not” I interrupted him, looking at him in the eye “I left him. That’s why I’m here”

“I’m… I’m so sorry to hear that” he said, and I could clearly see the sincerity in his eyes.

“It’s okay…” I whispered.

“Can we please meet so we can finally say whatever we have to say to each other before you leave?”

“San, I… I find it really hard to talk to you” I came clean, playing with the ends of my shirt “You hurt me a lot, and… and I really don’t want to keep digging in the same old scars. But maybe…” I took a deep breath “Maybe it will help to finally close them”

He nodded “I know, y/n. I need this. We need this”

“What about your wife?”

I just had to ask. He knew about me and Seonghwa, so it was only fair.

“It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, I’m divorcing her”

“I’m so—“

“Don’t bother” he shook his head, chuckling with a noticeable pain in his voice “I’m not sorry, so no one should be for me. Especially you.”

I don’t know why I was so nervous. It was just San. Choi San, that beautiful, talented and perfect man.

And that was the problem.

Choi San had always been a mystery. A simple mystery. Back then, he liked to show me that he needed to wear nothing more than a dazzling smile to make my day better. He used to take me out at night to stargaze because he thought that I could find inspiration up there.

“You need to paint these, baby” he had said “I know you’ll do an outstanding job”

And of course I painted them. Every single one of them.

“Could you pretty please paint this same sky on the back of my denim jacket?” he had asked.

“Why do you want me to do that, Sanshine?” I had chuckled, looking up from his chest so that I could see his stunning features illuminated by the stars.  

“Because today I feel like I could do anything I want with my life. I have you, so that’s enough” he had replied, sweetly kissing me afterwards.

I hadn’t been enough, though.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt his sweet perfume coming near me. I turned my head to my right, and I was able to distinguish his slender form from afar. He was still wearing that denim jacket and carried a large envelope in his hands.

“Hey there” he softly smiled.

“Hi San” I replied, trying to get rid of any sign of desperation in my voice.

“Do you want us to stay here or you prefer to go where used to… hang out?”

“I’m perfectly fine here” I sat back down on the bench, and he cautiously did the same, both of us in each end of it. The evening was warm and a nice breeze hit our faces. Although there were no stars yet, they were on their way.

And I honestly wasn’t ready to stargaze with San.

“Shall I start by saying that I am truly sorry?” after some minutes of silence, San broke the ice. “I never meant to hurt you like that. But I know that saying sorry now it’s meaningless. I just want you to let it all out, say the things that you wanted to yell at that 23 year old me but you never got to” the sorrow in his voice was evident, and I believed him. I felt how sorry he was for what he told me that night.

But it still haunted me. So I had to tell him.

“You ruined my dreams, San.” I whispered, already feeling hot tears go down my face. “You were my only fan back then. You encouraged me to keep going, practising, learning, and experimenting. But that night… you just threw that away. Why would you tell me that I was never going to be successful? Why would you yell right at my face that I was talentless?” I sobbed “That my paintings were nothing special and that I would never become a renowned artist if I kept painting night skies, when you were the one who encouraged me to do that in the first place?” And just as he wanted me, I let it all out. “You buried my dreams. You crushed them and you even made sure to throw them to the trash before leaving. I hated you for so long! I despised you! You were my best friend who suddenly became my worst enemy. But why? I just want to know that. I don’t care if you still think that my paintings were garbage. That’s my last concern” I sighed, violently drying the still falling tears “I just want to know why”

I looked at him, and it made me feel a little bit better to know that I was not the only one crying about it. Although he kept silent, his cheeks were soaked, and his eyes reddened and puffy. “You were talking about leaving Namhae” he whispered, looking down at the grass that surrounded us “and I couldn’t go with you, so I just needed you to stay. But after you moved to Seoul, I realized that I was being selfish and that I thought of my happiness over yours. I was going to be happy if you stayed with me, working at the flower shop and painting night skies as a hobby. But you would never have been if you did that” he cried, letting out a sorrowed and choppy breath. “And for the record, I never meant those words, y/n. I never believed that, and I know for a fact that I’m still your number one fan. You are the most talented person I know. You are amazing, and you more than anyone in this world deserve to be recognized out there. I’m so sorry for making you believe the opposite.”

I stayed silent, processing San’s explanation.

If we just had talked it out back then, maybe, just maybe…

“We were young and stupid” I finally replied. “I was trying to get out of Namhae to become an artist and I tried to take you with me. You were building your flower shop here and you tried to make me stay. It was never going to work out even if we tried” I reasoned, getting closer to him.

“But I shouldn’t have said that anyways” he shook his head “I prevented you from pursuing your dreams”

“I was stupid enough to believe that and stopped trying. I should have kept painting despite your words. I now see it” Slowly, San raised his head and looked at me in the eye. I weakly smiled at him, taking one of his hands for the first time in seven years. “I’m sorry too, San. I blamed you for my misery when I was the one who had to go after my dreams anyways”

“We both fucked up. But it’s on the past now, and we’re still young” he tightened his grip on my hand and shook the mysterious envelope with the other “I don’t know about you, but I just came from my attorney’s office. I’m officially divorced”

“I can’t believe our lives turned out this way” I quietly laughed, playing with San’s fingers. “If you had asked my 20 year old self, I probably would have said we were having our own house full of flowers and paintings by now, and why not add a couple of wedding rings. I was delusional”

“Not really, y/n. I expected that as well” his free hand softly caressed my cheek, travelling down to my jaw. He carefully grabbed my chin, making me look at him. I felt my eyes watering again, and San raised an eyebrow, showing me his confused gaze “Is there something wrong, baby?” he whispered.

I let out my tears, because I wasn’t trying to hide them from him anymore. “I’m just happy” I replied “I used to think that seeing you again was a mistake. That living in my luxurious Seoul apartment with a man that I no longer loved was what I needed to live the decent life that I was supposed to have. And now I know that it was just me trying to supress the urge that I had to come back to you. Because despite the horrible ending, you made me be who I am today. You loved me endlessly, San. And I hope you still do” I admitted, blushing like I was that 20 year old once again “Because I know I never stopped loving you, Sanshine. Even when I hated you the most”

He replied in the most beautiful way. A sweet, awaited, and loving kiss.

Although it wasn’t, it felt like the first time. No rushing, no hurting. Just love.

The love that I was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved me like San did.

The love that San was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved him like I did.

The love that we both deserved to get after so long.  

— jinmindeulle ♥ 

[greenninjagal-blog]

Does Virgil from Weightless ever find his skin? It’s one of my favourite fics from you and I’d love to read what happens after!

Oof, okay so in Weightless, Virgil does find his skin! I won’t write it, purely because I don’t have the time :/// but I can give you some run downs of what would happen!!

((This is still longer than I meant it to be oh my god))

First order of business is Patton uses some of his djinn magic to locate a magic shop which is run by a pixie who calls himself Deceit and whom absolutely abhors Patton. He’s sympathetic to Virgil’s cause but he runs a business so in exchange for an actual locating spell that works on people from memory he needs something just as powerful in return.

Logan steps up and offers a bit of his blood-- him being part gorgon gives him potent blood that is definitely is rare. Deceit eyes him warily but accepts it and he gives Virgil the spell. 

((Deceit also reveals the secret that Patton’s been hiding while they’re there: as a Djinn he can’t disobey any order. Which is why he’s always being so helpful and when the others ask him to do basic things he drops whatever he’s doing to complete the task. It also includes things such as “Don’t listen to this conversation until I snap my fingers” while Deceit does just because he’s petty and can.))

While they were out though, their house got broken into and its no longer safe at home, so Roman cashes in a favor with his brother in order for them to have a place to crash. Logan and Patton go over the spell with Virgil which requires the user of it to fall to sleep before its activated. Remus and Roman have a heart to heart which turns into Roman coughing up blood and his own secret being revealed: the reason why Roman acts so scattered brained and often has a hard time thinking about the others is because he quite literally can’t stop thinking about having sex, and if he goes too long without engaging in it his body starts breaking down. He was cursed as a young adult by a vengeful witch who thought they were dating when he thought they were just friends....who sometimes slept together. 

((He knows its not an excuse for him acting like that, which is why he never mentioned it to anyone, but also why he’s always seeking out partners and even though he’s an incubus, he thinks if he never had sex again he’d be okay. ))

Virgil sleeps and the spell works and when he wakes up Logan hands him a map and in a trance-like state marks with a pen where his attackers are.

Remus is really excited to see an opportunity to beat up people so he comes with them to confront the guys. The attackers turn out to be a from a low level gang so there are a lot of them and turns out there were people watching them when they left Deceit’s place, the gang over powered him and dragged him out to their warehouse where they were were in the process of ripping out his wings.

And Remus completely ignores any “don’t kill” suggestions and goes right to ripping out some throats the second he sees any magical creature being tortured like that. Roman isn’t far behind them and Patton uses his magic to help free Deceit and try to heal the places where his wings were damaged. Virgil breaks the water pipes and use his water manipulating ability to defend Patton and Deceit. 

((Patton reveals here that the reason why Deceit hates him so much is because he knows Deceit’s true name, which gives him absolutely control over the pixie, but Patton uses it to make Deceit stay awake through the pain, as he lost a lot of blood and if he fell unconscious now he probably wouldn’t wake back up))

Logan curbs enough of Roman and Remus’s rage to save one of the gang in order to ask him what happened to the selkie skin they stole, (and the gang member looks around at all his dead friends and asks “a skin was worth all this?” and Logan asks him, “Did you not think you were ruining lives by taking things that weren’t yours? Did you truly think no one was hurt by your actions?”)

The gang member admits they don’t have the skin, but that they sold it to these collectors: the Ackroyds, who paid them really well for it, you see? They had all sort of freaky things in their collection and he’d take a skin but he wouldn’t like kill the things and put them on display like those humans do.

And Logan freezes up at the name, noticeably, but the man is hysterical with trying to prove that he’s not really that bad, and before anyone can do anything, Logan takes off his glasses and turns the man to stone.

He puts them back on immediately but steps away from the group and refuses to look at them. He tells them that the skin is a lost cause and that they should give up.

To which Virgil is audibly horrified and angry because they got this far!! And Logan promised him--!! and Logan whips around and tells him that he never made any such promises and that if Virgil doesn’t let it go he’ll turn Virgil to stone as well, because he won’t like Virgil drag all his friends to their dooms.

At which, Deceit laughs brokenly, and asks if Logan go to attempt to make his own collection just like his parents--

And Logan’s secret comes to light: he wasn’t always part gorgon. He was actually human and his parents are mythical creature collectors but they collected creatures like butterflies: killing and pinning them in glass cases. But they often found that some creatures were immune to dying in ways that didn’t desecrate their bodies. Their solution? Find a way to make them ever lasting statues, using their son and a very expensive, unrepeatable experiment.

Logan admits that he remembers the faces of every person that his parents forced him to kill, of everyone who meets his eyes. Its his curse, and he’s always been afraid of it, because one day...he always knew that he’d join their collection too. He ran away as soon as he could, but his parents had people track him down and he was dragged back to them and they began to lock him in his room, and he was not allow out of the house at all anymore. Logan managed to escape by chance just before his sixteenth birthday.

By the time he’s finished talking he’s shaking and his knees give out but Remus is there to catch him and no one knows what to say about anything. 

“I can’t...” Logan whispers, “I can’t let you go there. I can’t... please... anyone who goes there doesn’t.....get out...”

And surprisingly its Roman who speaks up, strangely blithely about it all, “Well, they were always alone, weren’t they? Hey, Specs, don’t you know you aren’t alone, anymore?”

And it turns into a rallying thing where the six of them agree that they have each other, and that they can work together to take down Logan’s parents and keep any more mythical creatures from dying at their hands. I don’t have the actual final battle thing planned out so the rest of this is really but scratched out notes and concepts that if i were actually writing this, would be subject to change according to where the plot goes.

They infiltrate first by using Virgil’s selkie rareness to draw the attention of the Ackroyds.

Unfortunately the Ackroyds are expecting them so they kinda all stumble into a trap and Logan is taken back by his parents for-- and what great timing this is! They have a new rare species!! An archangel who would look magnificent next to the Avians! 

((The archangel is like eight. His name is Thomas and he’s sobbing because he doesn’t know how to use his powers yet.))

But first, its a good thing to take care of the meddling monsters that Logan had first become friends with. Starting with that selkie! And because they want him to look picture perfect even as stone they get his skin and tell him that if he cooperates they’ll let the djinn and the incubi go free (the pixie has to stay though. Its another rarity). 

And well.

Virgil has been holding on to a secret too.

He’s actually the goddamn Prince of the entire fucking sea and his power is linked to his skin. 

Which means that when they put the skin back on him, his abilities increase about 100fold. We stan OP Virgil in this house. Remind me how much of humans is water again? Yeah. Virgil drowns them in their own bodies and frees everyone else.

The Ackroyds have like a lot of people working for them though, so theres a battle that happens and in the middle of it Logan’s glasses get knocked off and broken and Thomas throws himself in front of Logan. Which, because Logan’s gorgon eyes are the same as staring into someone’s soul, leads to Logan staring into Thomas’s divine soul and it literally burns and blinds him.

((Thomas is really sorry, but Logan just starts sobbing thank yous to this eight year old, because now he’s never going to be forced to kill someone else.))

Our heroes win!! The Ackroyds are finished. Patton and Deceit put aside their differences in order to take joint custody of babey archangel Thomas and they, along with Roman and Logan end up living in a beach house together while researching how to remove the curse that’s on Roman. Remus comes and goes, bringing back exotic podcasts for Logan to listen too and bringing news from other locations about monster hunting.

Logan broke into his family vault and took all the money that his parents made off of selling and exploiting creatures and used it all to finance mythical creatures safehouses all across the globe. He trusts Remus and Roman to help watch over them.

Virgil returns to the ocean, just like Logan said he would at the very beginning of the story, although its because he has prince duties to adhere too. And he still sneaks up every once in a while to have dinner with all of them because I’m weak and soft for found family.

[werezmastarbucks]

columbus

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2608

music: little death by +44, violence violence violence by tuff turf, inspiration by red 7

Every day he asked, what do you wanna do today?

After you finally allowed to leave the little, boring, flat island, Kai was so greatful he was down almost to anything. It was also the time when your chaotic, time wasting, unpredictable movements across the surface of the earth started dying down and turning into something more systematic. Although all the places you visited up to that moment were somehow connected with searching for a way out, once you started giving up you suddenly had a plan.

Not for breaking out fo the prison though.

The day (you still felt weird thinking it: the day. Every day was the same day. It was all today. It was all Kai’s birthday) you realized there was nothing much more you could do actively you had one of those moments when your brain suddenly feels like it has had enough. Like in the old times, when you were a teenager and had regular panic attacks after the Katherine accident. Not that you needed a specific reason to justify breaking here and there, with the style of life you were leading.

It happened when you were high, in a literal meaning. On the top of the bridge, where you two climbed up to watch the sun go down. Dublin was a city with lots of low roofs, incredibly cute; neat streets drowning in flowers, and all. Standing there, as you realized the panic is climbing at your throat, there was one question in your head: so, we’re staying here?

Although it’s nice, and everything is so easy, and traveling is quick, we’re staying here?

Although he is good, and he likes me, and I start trusting him, and he clearly tries to be nice, we’re staying here?

Although deep down inside I am starting to think this was exactly what I needed, in a twisted way, to get my head straight, to have an opportunity to dig something up in Kai, we’re staying here for good? Because you didn’t know if you could handle this. You had no idea how he handled this. It wasn’t about the general horror of being completely alone without seeing birds. It was looking at the empty sky and feeling the incredible weight of it, all on top of the head. It was the sound of the wind flying across the land uninterrupted, the quiet of the night undisturbed. It was more than you could describe. It was almost like drowning in space.

Kai had to get you down using magic, and you didn’t have enough breath to tell him not to waste it. Saving magic was a kind of a ritual as well, something that kept you on your feet because it gave you hope for once we get out.

You screamed into the face of green late spring lawn under the violet sky. Kai stood by, watching you without pity in his eyes for he never seemed to exhibit much compassion for you; he showed his presence in a different way. It actually helped; you never felt better if someone held you as you broke down. He then tried to console you, standing shoulder by shoulder, and pointing at the sky,

“Consider this. Nothing like that back in Maldives, right?”

The colors changed and drifted across the sky because here, in Ohio, there were clouds.

You sniffed busily.

“You like being home, don’t you?”

Kai nodded.

“Yeah. I feel connected. You know?”

“Did you feel as connected in the future?”

He shrugged.

“There’s been too much commotion. And before that, none at all. I exist in the past. I exist in the future. I stopped feeling time, you know? I’m a time lord”, he concluded, satisfied, and his eye glinted at you. You chuckled, and the chuckle turned into a deep sigh full of sweet evening air.

“We’re not going back, are we?” you asked weakly. Kai looked at you almost flabbergasted.

“We are. One day. Maybe even today”.

You smiled, tiredly.

“You’re giving up now? Hey, you think I wanna be here? I’ll think of something, don’t be upset”.

That was about the most warm words he uttered to you in the whole time. You felt there’d be more to come.

Truth was, you really started believing he was now better off than before.

“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Once you got relieved from the permanent worry about the time wasting, about finding the loopholes you haven’t thought of, you finally could just... enjoy.

You looked at him and wondered if he knew everything there was to know. Whether he looked like a guy who could skateboard. He certainly did to you, but hey, the beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

“Can you teach me how to skateboard?”

His brows went up.

“I’m sorry. You can’t skateboard?”

“Nope”.

“You made me listen to your five hundred sixty one song playlist named ‘skate pop punk’“, he reminded you.

“Yeah, I compiled it out of sad nostalgia for the times I missed on, while I, you know, was preoccupied with vampires swarming my town”.

“I can’t believe I have an eye for you, and you can’t skate. You know you’re in ‘94, right?”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking”.

“Jesus”.

“Come on now”, you chanted, your voice a little hoarse, “you spent eighteen years here with all the time on your hands and haven’t learnt to swim”.

“That’s because water is scary”.

“So is the asphalt hitting you in the face”.

Kai clicked his tongue.

“Okay, I’m on it. But for that, we have to go to Columbus”.

“Of course we do”, you nodded, having no idea why Columbus. You loved the city, though, so you had no objections.

You asked yourself, if he has been pretending with the Mystic Falls people, too. He kept on going about how you, in his mind, for sure, hid your feelings for him, wanting to expose you for your hypocrisy. But this place had its effect on him, too. He clang on you. He was different. He was more than tolerable. He made you laugh and he cared about what you thought about his cooking. You wondered if he realized he’d been pretending, too.

Kai never missed a chance to place his hands on your waist. Pushing you in the back, he was enjoyin the role of the teacher, but he was trying to grow into it even more. It seemed he was missing role playing, the social kind to which all the adults are subjected, like mad.

Two minutes after you asked him, as you hopped into the car (family Toyota of mediocre grey color), excited, he started talking about every little detail there was to skating. Turned out, he knew absolutely everything about it. Every last trick had been rehearsed by him a thousand times, and though he wasn’t a natural born athlete, he demonstrated pretty damn good knowledge of all the physical aspects. He talked, and talked, and talked, about which board to choose, and the kind of sneakers you’re going to need, and what street will be the best, and the time for practice, and the way he’ll teach you, and no matter how many times you turned up the music, he wouldn’t take a hint.

Not that you ever grew annoyed with him more than, like, 6 out of 10. It seemed you clicked just fine.

“Put your foot here”, he muttered, pushing your heel a little onto the board. You nearly fell over, leaning back on him and feeling his firm hold having your back.

“That’s the trickiest part. How am I supposed to...” falling backwards and colliding with him, you let the board shoot away from under you, and you two watched it roll a little forwards, “keep it under me if it has wheels?”

“Please, stop talking”, Parker moaned.

“Whatever happened to me ending on your dick sooner or later”, you grumbled, going to pick it up. Kai chuckled,

“It’s still on. Who knew fooling around with you would be just as fun”.

How does one love?

You observed him, stunned a little, and his impatiently outstretched hand. He rarely let you fall, but you managed anyway. Your left elbow was burning, and your knee was bleeding a little, blood forming a beautiful snowflake-like (his words) stain in the big hole cut through your jeans. People are only supposed to skate in torn pants, or in shorts, Kai hammered in a very important, responsible voice. You didn’t ask any questions. It was lore, and that was it. Skateboarding lore, like bird swimming.

“Not to lose it, you have to lean forwards, and shift your weight forward, too, a little”, he suggested.

“Here’s the question”, you held your elbow and tried to get a proper look at it, “if we heal, and nothing changes, if our organisms are stuck in this twenty-four hours circle, does the muscular memory still apply?”

“Oh, it does”.

“So, it’s me being terrible at skating”.

“Yeah. If you think of it, the people”, he spat that word like it was poison, “standing behind the whole prison world speck of spells haven’t thought it out too well. Like, your body doesn’t change. It makes very little sense to me”.

“Well, they wanted you to be here forever, without letting you die”.

“You come back at different time after you die”, he said, as if he hasn’t heard you, “every time. It seems like it depends on the way you die. I can’t grow a beard, but you can still learn how to do a cart wheel, because your body doesn’t lose the habit of automatical movements. Same with the brain”.

“Yeah, sounds like hell for a perfectionist”, you concluded, fidgeting with the board. There was connection between Malachai Parker loving it the most in America, of all places, and the fact he looked like he was born on this street. There were friendly looking family houses left and right, standing above smooth ground.

You liked it the most when he pushed you in the back, running beside you, and you tried to balance as you shot along the street. The wind in your hair, and the harsh sound of the polyurethane wheels on the road, and you screaming as the turn manifested itself. Kai didn’t notice the remains of a hole in the asphalt that’s been filled with cement. The little bump stood out like a tiny turtle, and, as one of the wheels stumbled upon it, the board jumped away from you. You felt the muscles of his arms tense as Kai tried to lift you up above the earth, but he was running too, and the acceleration did not let either of you stop in time.

You both leaped through the air about a meter, before crashing onto the sand ground. Kai nearly hit his head on the pole of the road sign indicating kids running somewhere around.

Groaning and ouching, you crawled out from underneath him and lay on your back. You panted and laughed, hissing with pain. It felt like you rubbed your tigh really hard against the curb, and it felt red.

“Once again”, you said.

“You’re pretty much hopeless”, Kai replied, without malice.

“More encouragement, please”.

“You’re pretty! Hopeless. By the way, I just got it. You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about why I jumped after you there in Koureménos. And realized you jumped with me the same way, right? You knew you were going down, and jumped anyway”.

You recalled Damon’s eyes for a second. Something you tried not to think about too much.

Truth was, you really thought he would stop. You didn’t expect Damon to send you away, too. You thought you’d be a wall between him and Kai.

The board shuffled on the ground and stopped there somewhere. All fell quiet.

“We both did a stupid thing, and it felt right”, he mused slowly, as if he was surprised his own mouth was saying it. You pulled yourself half way up, balanced yourself on one elbow (the unharmed one) and leaned over his face, kissing him.

You stayed in Columbus for a while, until you could finally master the skateboard. The board you chose, by the way, was very cool. It had a green a purple zombie face gritting its rotting teeth, and its faded pale yellowish eyes on a roll out. You kept it close to the door of the bedroom, zombie face to bed so that you could look at it. You really liked the design.

The bed heaved under Kai’s weight as he rolled on his back. You were listening to music, waiting for midnight. You never went to sleep before twelve o’clock, when the new today began, because it distorted sleep anyway. As your bodies returned back to default, it always woke you up.

“It makes no sense”, he complained. “It sounds just like the old ones”.

“That’s the point of the whole genre of the retrowave”, you sighed. In the twilight, with no street lights on (you personally broke half of them, practicing your aim with the stones), the zombie head seemed more vicious than it really was.

“Why not just listen to synth wave then?”

“Because the quality is different, and the melodies are still different. It’s fake retro. It reminds me of my youth”.

“You know what reminds me of my youth?” he said crossly, “listening to actually old music. I don’t understand this”.

You found his hair, getting your fingers in it and squeezing lightly. It calmed him down at once, all the time.

“You exist outside the time, you have no youth”, you reminded him.

“Right”, Kai was almost dozing off. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“You know what I was thinking?”

It was hard to keep your eyes open against the darkness of the room in this cute family house, on the Washington Street in Columbus, when Kai breathed right into your ear, nesting his face against the side of yours to distract you from his hand sliding down your belly.

He hummed. You had to catch his wrist to stop him from getting into your pants. Not to this song.

“We need to survive a zombie apocalypse. Shaun here gave me an idea”.

The skateboard zombie’s name was Shaun.

“Oh, that would be so cool!” Kai woke up at once. Your pants and what’s inside of them was forgotten. His eyes glowed in the dark like he was about to lash out on you with rage no less than a brain eater himself.

“We could get a really heavy car, and put up mannequins everywhere in the city, and shoot them”, you said. “We will get post-apocalyptic clothes and make a den somewhere in a high-high building that looks like a tower, and live without electricity. I’ll read you Stephen King at nights. You can reinvent radio”.

“Maybe I’ll bite your arm off”, he whispered, already jumping away into the fantasy, “and you’ll have to mercy shoot me until I turn into a complete animal”.

He crashed back onto bed and stared into the ceiling.

“If you bite my arm off, don’t you think you’re already too far gone? May as well eat me whole then. I don’t wanna go around without an arm”.

“Fair enough”.

You both sighed, thinking.

“But what place looks like it’s been ravaged by zombies?”

“Something like Escape from L.A., but not LA”, he muttered.

“Some city that has a lot of industrial districts and factories...”

Another pause, and then you looked at each other and shrieked at the same time,

“Boston!”