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blondeboyfriend · 2 years ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Yoshikage Kira x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I'd be lying if I said American Psycho didn't inspire bits of this fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] Against his better judgment Kira takes you up on your offer to grab some dinner after work. [ WORD COUNT ] 3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, POV switching (though most of it is written from Kira's POV), he is so goddamn mentally ill, y/n is crushing hard, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, handjob, murder, angst without a happy ending.

Yoshikage Kira never intended to go out to dinner with you. He was already fantasizing about a quiet evening at home as he finished up his work. He could picture it so clearly: sitting at his dinner table eating leftovers from the night before, eventually making his way to the couch to watch mindless television until the early stages of slumber enveloped him, then he would drink a warm glass of milk and do some light stretches before snuggling up under his freshly washed linen sheets, sleeping soundly until morning came.

But for reasons unknown to him, he felt compelled to take you up on your offer. Maybe it was how you walked by his desk six times before getting the courage to actually speak to him. Or maybe it was your feeble attempt at acting nonchalant about it and how cute it was when your desperation trickled through.

“I haven’t had the chance to try shabu-shabu since I moved here and I cannot be seen doing it alone. Think of what that’ll do to my ego.”

He chuckled even though he didn’t find your comment particularly funny. “Find a time when no one is around and go. Then no one will see you.”

“But I’ll know I’m alone. Like, I’ll have to live with that memory for the rest of my life.”

“What if the food is so good you forget about that part?”

“Kira,” you whined. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t; I have to return some library books. Why not ask someone else?” He leaned back in his chair, trying to see who was still toiling away in the office. “Ah, Natsumi would be a good choice. I bet she eats food.”

You attempted to quiet your laughter with your hands which annoyed him to no end. Who were you to put yourself on display in such a manner?

“I barely talk to her,” you finally said after reeling in your laughter.

“I don’t know what to tell you then. Maybe another night,” he suggested though he hoped you’d never follow up.

“I’ll pay! Please?”

He sighed, denying a cute thing like you was too cruel. “Will you have me home before 8?”

You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. “Of course I will,” you replied, your tone comically serious. “You can count on me.”

He brushed your hand off of him while making note of how gentle your touch had been. Your hands were a sight to behold, just looking at them made all his blood flow straight to his cock. He crossed his legs and smiled sweetly, trying to maintain a veil of normalcy.

Kira knew he would be testing himself by going on a social outing with you. But it wasn’t as if he was an amateur. There had been plenty of times he didn’t let his urges get the better of him, even when presented with the perfect opportunity to indulge. He was more than capable of exercising self restraint. Besides you were his coworker. Killing you was far too risky. That in itself was enough of a deterrent.

“Do you have somewhere in mind?” He asked.

You nodded. “There’s a place not too far from here. It’s a few blocks down.”

“Have you heard good things about it?”

“No, terrible things. A guy got food poisoning and died in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. They say his ghost haunts the restaurant to this very day with his dick hanging out.”

“Oh I love that,” Kira said quietly as he shut down his computer.

“Thought you would.”

He cleared his throat and looked up from his monitor. “I’ll meet you out front. I need to take care of a few things before we leave.”

You nodded and strolled off, unaware of the mental anguish that plagued him. Kira glanced down at his lap, watching as his cock fought against the fabric of his pants. He slowly got up, careful to obscure his erection with his quivering hands. Dizzy and humiliated, he skulked into the bathroom and quickly relieved himself. As he squeezed the shaft of his cock he fantasized about how your disembodied hand would feel stroking his tender flesh.

“Stop it,” he mumbled, hoping verbalizing his morality would make it appear.

Misery enveloped Kira as he washed his hands. He was careful to not look in the mirror, unable to bear the sight of himself. He breathed deeply as he unlocked the bathroom door, pulling it open only to be greeted by your expectant presence.

“I felt weird standing around in the lobby.”

He couldn’t follow your logic, but your earnest demeanor was precious so he didn’t think too hard about it.

“Great,” he choked out.

There was a sense of relief once the two of you were out in the world, away from the office. The air seemed lighter, the lights not so blinding and unforgiving. He was at ease as he walked beside you, your hands brushing up against his on occasion. Your disruption was more harmonious than he previously surmised. It was wrong to assume you were a woman of strife and discord. You were more benign than that. You were like petting a kitten that had been napping in a puddle of sunlight. Your presence carried the weight of a reassuring hug. He wanted to melt in your arms and drown in your sweetness.

Everything was painted in a blushy-orange hue as the sun slowly set. It gave your face an angelic quality as it danced across your face. To say you looked picturesque was an understatement. Nothing could shit on this moment; nothing could annihilate his peace. He was sure of it.

“This is… it,” you said sadly, noticing that the restaurant was in fact closed.

Suddenly everything came crashing down. Kira felt like he was going to vomit into his shoes.

“What a shame,” he said, voice straining. He was convinced he could cry at any moment.

Your eyes darted around. “We could get udon,” you said, pointing at a restaurant across the street.

Kira spun around and nearly moaned as relief filled his chest. It was directly across the street, its existence a good omen. He could have kissed you for pointing it out.

“Yes,” he said, wiping his eyes. “We can get udon.”

You gave him a confused look. Damn, he must really love udon.

Dinner went well. You both ordered the same thing, but that was only because Kira wanted to mirror you and what he perceived as your moral superiority. You talked about work, expressing similar grievances. He rarely voiced his discontent to anyone, let alone his coworkers, but you disarmed him. Everything he knew and held dear was now flexible; he didn’t mind bending a little for you.

You upheld your part of the bargain and covered the bill without a second thought. He contemplated paying for everything while you weren’t paying attention, but you were too quick.

“You could have at least let me pay for half,” he said as you signed the receipt.

You smiled. “Nah.”

The sun had set and the streets were not bustling with as much life. The sidewalks were practically empty. Eight o’clock was growing near, putting Kira on edge. His confidence in his self control was waning. It was time to go home.

“Well I’ll see you on Monday. Thank you for dinner. It was nice.”

“You don’t wanna hang out for a little longer? Maybe grab some tea? Pudding? Anything?”

He clenched his fists, nails piercing his palms. Your company was now a burden to bear. He knew you wouldn’t make it out alive if you stuck around.

“You know you wanna have tea with me,” you purred.

A playful grin adorned your face. It was true. Kira did want to have tea with you, but not like this. He wanted to be with you under the warm gaze of a perpetual sunset. He wanted perfection, but the circumstances made it impossible, sullying it all. The longer he was around you like this, the more he wanted to hurt you.

“I doubt anywhere decent is open,” he said firmly.

“We can go back to my place! I actually have this really good genmaicha if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Fuck, he thought to himself. I am into that sort of thing!

“Alright, a cup or two won’t kill me.”

“Me neither. Let’s gooooo.”

He could control himself; he could show a semblance of restraint. Maybe spending more time around you would let him realize your true value. If he liked you enough, surely he’d want to keep more than just your hand around. And it would be nice to have a friend at work, someone to make him seem like a typical guy.

He sighed and convinced himself everything would be fine.

And it was. When the two of you arrived at your home, Kira was pleasantly surprised by its comforting warmth. It was no sunset. But it was close enough, disarming him all the same. He made himself comfortable on your couch. You prepared the tea, blethering about your interests. He watched you intently, taking in every little movement you made.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you said, placing a cup of tea in front of him. “But you have the eyes of a hunter.”

“What?!”

Suddenly he was trying to look as doe-eyed as possible. He couldn’t believe his mask was already slipping.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you laughed, nervously scratching the base of your skull.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, don’t be,” you cooed as you took a seat beside him. “It’s not a bad thing. I—I, uh…”

You cut yourself off by taking a big sip of tea.

“What was that last part?” He asked, taking off his Valentino jacket.

He carefully folded it and hoped the wrinkling would be minimal. He then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to feel less constricted, a little freer.

“Uh,” you mumbled, staring at his toned forearms. “It’s, like, attractive. I’m saying that objectively.”

You were courting him in the shadows. He wanted to shake you and beg you to stop, to end this nonsense, to kick him out of your home for his predator eyes. All the time Kira spent trying to shield you from it didn’t mean a thing. It made him ill. And it wasn’t as if he could tell you to stop being flirtatious because it made him want to kill you. If you knew that he was a demon with a thin veneer of sanity, he’d lose you forever.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping his tea.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t scooped you up already.”

“I don’t really like to make myself… scoopable.”

“Fair enough,” you said, scooching closer to him. “So, you’re not seeing anyone then?”

He paused. “I am not.”

You placed your hand on his thigh, fingers grazing the inside of it. He stared down at your hand like it was a grenade.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” you said bashfully.

Kira felt like he was going to implode.

“You know… I’ve always had a bit of a,” you coughed nervously, “crush on you. I don’t know why. I just feel drawn to you.”

His cock throbbed under his pants, begging to be freed. His carnal needs were taking over. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually fucked someone, and seeking solace in your cunt sounded endlessly appealing.

“Is that so?”

You nodded and squeezed his thigh. His body ached for you, all of you. He wanted to have every bit of it in his mouth and cover your skin with his cum.

“I need you, Yoshikage,” you said, pulling yourself into his lap. Your hands gripped his shirt.

He didn’t know what to say. You were seeing him too clearly. Hearing you say his name made it all too real. But still there was some allure to it. Rarely did Kira ever feel desired and it was clear as day that you wanted him. It stroked his ego in ways he never thought possible.

“Tell me how much.”

Your hands were now unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

“I’d rather die than be without your touch,” you mewled, rolling your hips against him.

Kira felt like his heart was caught in his throat.

You kissed his cheekbone. “Let’s go to my room.”

He followed you to your room and watched as you removed your work clothes. Your body was incredible, delectable, and he wanted to consume it. It was like a sun ripened peach, dewy and glistening under a full moon. He wondered how it would feel to sink his teeth into your flesh, how sweet your arousal must taste.

Kira did the same, carefully undressing and making sure his clothes wouldn’t look like crumpled paper once he put them back on. His ego sang as you took in his naked form. He knew he was physical perfection, a body in the image of a Bernini sculpture. Your eyes were wide, eager, and starving.

You crawled onto the bed, resting on your back with your legs spread wide. He had a perfect view of your slick cunt, one that nearly made him drool. Unable to contain himself, he got onto the bed and buried his head between your thighs. He lapped at your folds, the tip of his nose brushing up against your swollen clit.

He looked up at you and watched as you grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples between your fingers.

“Feels s’good,” you mumbled in a blissed out daze.

Kira gave your clit slow, languorous licks, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. He found himself rutting against the mattress, desperate to feel some form of friction. The sounds of your breathy moans sent him spiraling into a pit of pleasure and despair. His urges were creeping around him, whispering in his ears.

I wonder if she’d make the same noises if you sliced her up a bit.

He closed his eyes and focused on kissing the inside of your thighs while he slipped his fingers inside you. Your moans grew louder, more comely, as he curled them.

“More,” you moaned as you laced your fingers in his wavy, flaxen hair.

Show her the real Yoshikage Kira.

“I want your cock,” you whimpered.

He got on top of you, his blue eyes lost in your haze of ecstasy. Lust radiated off of you, drawing him in. There was no way he could deny you.

He guided his cock inside you, tossing his head back as it was surrounded by the plush heat of your cunt. You locked your legs around him, clinging to his body like your life depended on it. He loved every minute of it; feeling wanted and needed was the best sensation in the world. He was sure of it.

His thrusts were languid and sensuous. Kira liked to take his time while fucking. He was never plagued by the overwhelming reflex to come as fast and hard as possible. He preferred to focus on the needs of his partner, slowly drawing out their transcendent moans. He was hypervigilant in his awareness. You couldn’t hide a thing from Kira. He noticed every muscle twitch, every gasp and groan, every gloriously enraptured expression.

“How does it f—feel?” You asked.

He didn’t want to speak. He felt safer with his mouth shut.

You tightened your cunt around his cock.

“Shit,” he choked out as he bottomed out.

You let out a deep moan and dug your fingernails into his shoulders. Your orgasm flowed through your body, replacing your blood with unadulterated ardor. Your sweet sounds filled the room, overwhelming him.

“I can’t,” he spat out abruptly.

He pulled his cock out of you and rolled gracelessly off the bed.

“Huh?” You were in a fucked out daze.

“I have to go.”

“Is this about the library books?”

He shook his head. “No. I j—I have to leave.”

“Can you at least tell me why?”

“I’m afraid if I stay I’ll do something to you.”

You gave him a confused glare. “What are you talking about?”

KIra stared down at his hands, hoping they would have an answer.

“There is something terrible happening inside me and I don’t want it to interfere with my work life.”

You sat up, your annoyance was tangible and took up space in the room. Your eyes were fixed on his erect cock.

“No one has to know.”

“But—”

“Come on. Let me make you happy before you leave, hm?”

His eyes darkened. “You want to make me happy?”

“Yes. I wanna be filled with your cum,” you begged.

He walked over to the bed and grabbed your right wrist.

“Jerk me off.”

“Uh. Okay,” you said, squeezing his swollen shaft.

Precum dribbled out from the tip, coating your hand and you serviced him. You didn’t look enthused, but you gave it your all.

“Good girl,” he choked out as his cock spurted cum over your chest.

Kira looked down at you, trying to memorize your face since this was the last time he’d see it. He would miss your goofiness and your sweetness, but living without it wasn’t impossible. Life would just go back to the way it was before, the way it should be. Home by 8:00 PM. A glass of warm milk. Stretching.

Surely you would understand why he had to do it.

“Whoa,” you said suddenly. “Wha—what’s that fucking pink thing behind you?”

He panicked and Killer Queen vaporized your body, leaving nothing behind. Kira fell to the ground and buried his face into the side of the mattress. The pain in his chest was sharp and raging. He wished he could go back in time and never agree to dinner. He would have forced Natsumi to go with you. He would have insulted you to your face. Anything to keep you away from him.

Kira was at a loss, alone in your home. He had no idea if anyone saw him come in or if anyone at the office knew you two had gone out. He cursed himself for being so reckless and began to sob. His hubris has gotten the better of him.

What a waste. But don’t worry. There will be another one.

Before you ask: yes, y/n was a stand user. Her stand was Baby One More Time and she could bring plants back from the dead.

#yoshikage kira x reader #kira yoshikage x reader #kira x reader #jjba x reader #jjba smut #jojo's bizarre adventure smut #.fics #.jjba #.kira #reader insert #x reader

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starsbegantofall · 2 years ago

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Some favorite “cleaning but not really” tips for the new year!

It’s a custom somewhere in the world to start the new year off with a fresh clean house and mind. While my actual new year starts later than January 1, I wanted to share my favorite “cleaning” tips with everyone, like I’m an elderly gramma this last day of 2022.

1. “Make” your bed every morning (from unfuckyourhabitat)

2. Clean up as you cook (from cloudyhills and emmymade)

3. Stop your work/hobby 10 minutes before you plan to and clear your workspace (from various crafters and artisans)

4. If you can’t bear to part with something sentimental but it serves no useful purpose, find a way to display it as decor (from Marie Kondo)

5. If you want to have a themed yet functional room, gradually replace old useful items in that room with new useful items (from Rosie O)

Read on for encouragement!

1. “Make” your bed every morning (from unfuckyourhabitat on tumblr)

This is one I do every morning although I do take naps before going to bed lol. Your bed is your sanctuary and takes up the largest portion of your room, therefore if you smooth out the blankets and sheets and straighten the pillows, you just cleaned up 50% of your room and you feel so much better when you go to sleep even if the rest of the room is a mess. Obviously won’t work if your significant other sleeps before you do, but I also recommend it because straightening your bedding keeps dust mites from having little hidey holes to multiply in. So it’s healthy! Anyway, I really like unfuckyourhabitat for understanding people may have mental illnesses or adhd or messy family members or pets that get in the way of cleaning, and so they try to advise the easiest possible small wins that anyone can do. Lots of people swear by the 15/5 or preferred time limit, clean for 15 minutes, break for 5. Personally I clean for 15 minutes and break for 2 hours.

2. Clean up as you cook (from cloudyhills and emmymade on youtube)

I don’t really do this all the time, just sometimes while something is boiling or heating up, but what I try to do is rinse out used prep dishes and cutting boards and put the next ingredients in them to cut down on the total amount of dishes at the end, sorta same concept. The goal is to have as few dishes and spills/crumbs to clean up after you finally get to eat, so it doesn’t add up over the days and breed germs and make you feel lazy and guilty. Even if you can’t get to sink zero and only clean one dish while cooking, that’s a win!

3. Stop your work/hobby 10 minutes before you plan to and clear your workspace (from various crafters and artisans)

This one I am trying to remember to do, but it’s sooo hard lol. I don’t really plan out my crafting time, it just happens whenever I feel like it so the end time is whenever I’m tired or bored or frustrated. Two things I always do are put away my scissors and cover my sewing machine with its little cover. Scissors are important to my crafts and I never want to lose them or drop or damage them, therefore they always go back up on their hooks or drawers. My house is dusty and I don’t like dust on my sewing machine, especially since dust will eventually mess with the machinery, so covering it is a firm habit. Another thing I try to remember is rinse out my paintbrushes and dump out paint water or whatever I was using as a palette, and sweep up any cloth scraps and thread bits. But the work area is still overall cluttered with current projects... I’ll keep you updated if I ever get this down as a habit.

4. If you can’t bear to part with something sentimental but it serves no useful purpose, find a way to display it as decor (from Marie Kondo)

Obviously I find a lot of worth with Marie Kondo’s books, she just sounds so thoughtful and helpful. This advice I really like because I collect a lot of souvenirs and anime/game merch and trinkets but don’t have the decision making abilities to display them nicely, and I’m not into buying a curio cabinet for my small home. But you can’t really sell trinkets that easily, at least not fanmerch, and donating/throwing them away is just a waste if no one else will appreciate the memories you associate with them. Using my PC as a starting point, I’ve become comfortable with digging out decorative items as the seasons change and rotating pictures in picture frames so every poster or doll or keychain or sticker will eventually get a chance to shine for a few months. That way, the doodads don’t feel like junk taking up room, but a way to make my space look pretty and unique and a part of my personality. Is what I tell myself.

5. If you want to have a themed yet functional room, gradually replace old useful items in that room with new useful items (from Rosie O on youtube)

Hoarding is a real problem, and Rosie O has several room tour videos and cleaning/decor tips for a kawaii yet functional room, along with many other ytbers. You can have a kawaii (or whatever style) room that can also be clean and functional just by gradually replacing old useful items with new items of your intended theme. For example, replace plain old shelves and bins and cups as they wear out with cute (or whatever style) shelves and bins and cups. Definitely replace bedding and rugs when you can, this helps a bunch. If you can’t match everything to your style, then find a catchall box that does match and tuck mismatched stuff away, or hide stuff behind a matching curtain or find another room to put them in. Paint over plain stuff, use shopping bags or tags or old stationary to decorate a frame or bulletin board, display your favorite piece of clothing on the wall or door or on a mannequin, lots of ways to thriftily keep your room neat yet aesthetic. That way, if you do hoard more useless stuff like I do, at least the base of your room is aesthetic and functional, and thus easy to keep clean (or at least makes you feel less dismayed by the concept of cleaning lol, let’s be real here).

Anyway, hope that helps motivate and inspire you! Let’s get to work!

#i'm a senior citizen #cleaning advice and tips

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itsmonika · 2 years ago

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Person Born on the 30th of the Month

It's innocent. He confides in individuals to an extreme, feels that everybody is caring and nobody will be underhanded without a clear explanation, but since of that great heart he is misled and disheartened by individuals near him.

He can't stand schedule. Numerology - Person Born on the 30th they are individuals who like information, who have an exceptionally dynamic creative mind to stall out in a dreary and dirty everyday practice. Assuming that this occurs, eventually this individual rebellions, tosses everything in the air and needs to begin their life without any preparation.

He's difficult. Don't bother needing to talk about anything with somebody brought into the world on the 30th, regardless of the amount they regard others' viewpoints, they won't ever adjust their perspectives on the grounds that their viewpoint is extremely instilled and they are never ready to surrender it.

It includes the family in their concerns. Recall that they are exceptionally appended to loved ones? They have the awful frenzy to include everybody in their concerns. You imagine that your concern ought to be everybody's concern and that everybody ought to help you. He acquires cash, requests that family members resolve debates for them, designates their obligations trying to dispose of them.

Find What Birthday Uncovers About Your Character

Brought into the world on the 30th - Character

The people who were brought into the world on the 30th of the month are ill-fated to mess up the same way again and again in the event that they don't require some investment to gain from their previous encounters. At the point when you notice a similar example arising in your life, you have the mindfulness that you can roll out an improvement. Shut down the thing you're doing and take a stab at something else all things considered. You should initially exhibit the conduct you wish to see displayed somewhere else on the planet. The vibrations exuding from the number 30 will urge you to follow a course that prompts the securing of material belongings. Yet, the excursion toward accomplishing illumination on an otherworldly level will fundamentally more prize.

Assuming you have the birthday number 30, it demonstrates that you are lucky since you are probably going to be offered both again and again. You may likely go down the two streets at various places in your day to day existence, yet you won't ever be fulfilled until you seek after a top to bottom appreciation of both yourself and your life. Helping oneself and afterward proceeding to help others is the way to arriving at edification on an otherworldly level. Then and really at that time will you feel unadulterated delight.

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freedfromthegalactichivemind · 2 years ago

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I cannot stop thinking about this set of panels. This thing is just a webcomic / abridged series, right? Meant to make goofy on a fucking cartoon, and yet, the writing in it gets to me. Entrapta's backstory here feels the same as my entire life. To this day, I don't understand how friendship happens, nor how to keep friends. It seems to sort of happen for me over shared interests (which seems to be the common theme), but, eventually things drift apart, people part ways over busy lives and differing interests. This is especially true if you find it easier to "make friends on the Internet" because sometimes a friend just disappears. (I'm always really happy if I see someone pop up again out of the blue on Facebook or somewhere, just so that I know that they're alive). Still, it's like "We don't talk anymore." And, of course, I fuck it up for myself on a frequent basis. I'm too forthright, blunt, with whatever beliefs I have or emotions I'm having at the time. I outright scare people off - both by being weird and... you know how you meet people who will go on and on and on about how compassionate they are toward mental illness? And then, it turns out when someone actually displays symptoms, they run? Yeah, that's happened to me a lot, even with treatment. I have a reputation even in this very fandom and online life because of misunderstandings (which I'm sure are still rumored about), and a meltdown...and me behaving genuinely awful during the meltdown, and, well, I sort of accept that some people will never give me a second chance. That's just the way things go. It hurts, though. I keep thinking about it. I feel like some people who used to be friends are angry that I returned. Apology becomes awkward, and impossible when people disappear. And I'm left thinking about how I am just not good with people. When I was a kid, my best friends were my cats. People forget how they've treated you, too - as what I learned when I encountered childhood bullies on Facebook one time who denied everything and didn't even seem to know how much delight they took in slamming me down. And you're left with your art and your animals and your robots or whatever... and kind of wishing to see a rip in the fabric of spacetime so you can talk to God. No wonder I became really religious during my teen years. That was a whole mess that I regret, and yet I kind of miss it, too... I miss my old church and having been a part of something (even though a lot of the people side-eyed me, there, too). Some of us were never made to fit in or be forgiven, Entrapta. It is enough if we find one or two people who actually "get" us. I am glad you found Hordak. And Adora, and Scorpia. (Yes, I count "those people who can't stand up for you because they don't know how, but they try and they still like you" to be friends. It happens. We're all human). I don't know. I guess I just want to thank Sweary She-Ra for what's going to be brought up in my next therapy session later this week.

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damiano-mylove · 3 years ago

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Members of Måneskin with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Illnesses included: Depression, ADD, Tourette's and PTSD (so warnings for that and SH, drug usage, isolation, and heavy topics in general) *Masterlist*

This was a collaborative effort between Nik, Lina, Lute and two unnamed but very appreciated people - all of us afflicted with the varying illnesses above

Vic

Vic would take an empathetic approach to your illness/disorder (relating to you, researching, never pitying)

Depression

Vic would take a more of a nurturing role to your sadness

On the more sad days, Vic would nap with you for a little bit but she'd get to a point where enough would be enough

She would coax you out of bed in ways that appeal to you more than you'd ever care to admit, starting out with just getting you to eat somewhere else than in bed, then eventually moving up to showering, etcetera, etcetera

Vic would be very acutely tuned toward your needs, and she always fulfilled

It broke her heart that you were so sad, but she could relate and that made it a lighter burden on your back

When you first told her, Vic just went silent, then hugged you for a long time

ADD

Vic wouldn't be as supportive in this, but not in a neglectful way

She had a way of getting your attention back on the topic at hand, but sometimes she was just as bad as you for getting away from the main point

The impulsivity, she wasn't the biggest fan of, but you two worked through it like adults

When you'd forget things, Vic wouldn't get annoyed - but she would always remind you when you forgot what you needed to remember

Also, she was the best for finding misplaced things

PTSD

Vic would be very careful to avoid your triggers, however she never felt as if she was walking on eggshells

Before you were able to fully tell her what happened, Vic would never force you to tell her anything you weren't already ready to tell her of your own accord

There was no way she couldn't feel a bit sorry for you, but she never showed it, and she certainly didn't pity you - she just was sorry that something happened to you to give you PTSD

She would be mindful to never act as if she would be able to fix you

Tourette's

It didn't annoy her as much as you thought it surely would - especially since you had been trying to keep the tics at bay in the beginning of your relationship

Vic usually went on like nothing happened when you'd tic, but sometimes she'd laugh if your tics would hit her

Vic would proudly go out with you, even though you were scared about the looks you'd get on the street, but she never minded because she loved you and she wanted to show you that she loved you

Thomas

Thomas would take a supportive approach to your illness/disorder (reminding you to take your meds, making appointments for you if you'd ask, doing anything he could to make you feel better)

Depression

Thomas would always be the perfect person who would just shut the fuck up and cuddle you, but he would only do it if you'd ask because he knew sometimes you didn't feel like being around people

Wasn't really trained in any of this so he just cared for you like he'd like to be cared for

He was doing his best, and it was apparent, but sometimes you'd have to tell him what not to do and what to do

Of course, Thomas wouldn't bat an eye to stop or start doing anything at the raise of your finger - whether it be rub your back or let you be alone for a bit

He understood that he alone could not cure your depression, but he understood that he would be around for the ride, if you would have him

When you first told Thomas, he was silent, just nodding. He asked you a few very respectful questions but would never dream of pushing you. He would rub your knee and assure you of his love for you, no matter what

ADD

Honestly, Thomas didn't know what ADD was, at first

He googled it, then thought better to just ask you for a primary source

During nights where you couldn't sleep, Thomas would be right beside you, not sleeping either, which wasn't healthy for either of you, but it sure as Hell made you feel less lonely

Thomas lost shit and things all the time, so he never judged you for that, and his memory was potentially worse than yours so who was he to speak on that

But he was extremely good at getting you to finish tasks before moving on (sometimes just finishing them himself)

PTSD

Again, didn't exactly know what it entailed at first, but asked you a few questions to clear the air

Thomas would lead you through deep breathing exercises (unless you told him not to) when you were triggered and started losing control

Would always do anything and everything he could to avoid triggers with you

He would he more than patient with you

Tourette's

He would find some of your tics endearing (not harmful ones)

At one point, you'd even developed a verbal tic saying Thomas' name, which he always chuckled at and responded to you every single time as if you'd requested his presence, each time with a new pet name and a smile

If your tics would hit him by accident, you would apologize profusely, but Thomas would always laugh and brush it off

During tic attacks, he knew to just let you be, unless you would stop breathing, then he would certainly step in

He would ask his doctor a "hypothetical" about how to help someone through a tic attack, then used that advice forevermore, and it usually made a helpful difference

Ethan

Ethan would take a companion role (letting you take the lead, showing him what would happen and what to do to help, always listening to you before making his own move)

Depression

He'd dealt with depression before, but thoroughly understood that everyone is different in how they display mental illness

Ethan would recognize what to do, but would ask you for confirmation before acting upon anything that had potential to make a difference

On days where you couldn't leave your bed, he would bring you food (not a steak dinner, but he would definitely bring you soup or toast or a sandwich)

On days where you couldn't shower, he'd either be in the shower with you, or he'd draw you a bath instead, or he'd buy dry shampoo and sanitary wipes (those would be the last case, because he didn't want to throw off your pH)

He would assure you of his love and that you didn't burden him whatsoever

You were suffering, and you didn't make him suffer, but he did take some of that suffering from you

ADD

Certain times, I regret to say, he may get slightly annoyed, but not for long and not to the point of icing you out or anything

Ethan always found things to keep your mind occupied (watching Monty Python (actually a great programme for AD(H)D people), intricate games, new books, etc)

The best at finding lost things, and also has the best memory under the sun

Your symptoms wouldn't bother Ethan, save for constantly speaking (which can get a little annoying during a film or something)

PTSD

Would basically just go one with life - he would avoid all things relating to your triggers and PTSD - but otherwise, it would be business as per usual

If you got triggered, he would be by your side and on your side

He would do anything; deep breathing, distractions, grounding, getting your meds, anything

Ethan would always let you speak about it, when you'd want to, but otherwise treated you the exact same way as he had before you told him

Tourette's

He's always looking for something to joke about, and sometimes your tics provide just the material

He wouldn't dream of taking the piss out of the harmful or mean tics, but if you were laughing, then he was sure to be laughing as well

If your tics involved a bird whistle, he'd call you his 'little red bird' but wouldn't anymore if that upset you

Tourette's are a tough subject to joke about, but Ethan would always listen if you told him it was offensive, unfunny, or just a bad joke and Ethan would always take it in good humour and apologize

Most of the time though, he could make some funny fucking comments

Damiano

Damiano would take a nonchalant approach (not explicitly talking about it, never take the spotlight off you (if he could help it), try his best to help you through any challenges without making you feel like you were an inconvenience to him

Depression

He was your best friend before he was your lover

As such, you were always able to talk to Damiano about your depression anytime you felt it getting bad, as to warn him

Damiano would never leave your side, unless you told him to, but he'd always have a film on in the back, or he'd play with your hair, or distract you by brushing your hair or having you help him pick out an outfit

He enjoyed cleaning, so your bedroom would never become a depression room, and that helped get you out of your slumps most of the time

Dami was also swimmingly good at getting you up, even if it be just for a dance in the moonlight then back to bed, or a walk around the block then on the couch

He understood wanting to cope, but if you were prone to drug usage, Damiano would totally discourage it and stop you from using as best he could

ADD

Not everyday is a trip to Disney, but with Damiano, it is

Damiano always had new records to catch your fancy, he'd always have some home project lined up for the two of you, he'd always let you do extravagant things with makeup on his face

It seemed if you lost something, Dami would find it, but if Damiano lost something, you would find it (good system actually)

Would always have reminders in his phone so he would add reminders for you on his phone (appointments, birthdays, events)

Damiano seemed to always have just the trick to get you to sleep, even when you felt like you physically couldn't

PTSD

After you told him, Damiano would immediately avoid the topic in future conversations

He would support you fully during any trigger or episode, but he never treated you any differently at all just because you have PTSD

It hurt him that something hurt you so badly, but he took it all in a deep breath - after all, he signed up for you, all of you, so he certainly wouldn't give up on you just because of a disorder

Damiano would be in your corner 100%, and you knew it and you knew you could always go to him

Tourette's

Some tics would get that beautiful smile on his face, but otherwise he continued conversations like nothing ever happened

He didn't bat an eye at a physical tic, not a verbal tic

But he was the man to go to during a tic attack

He wouldn't treat you like a science experiment, or like an insane asylum patient - he treated you with love and support, like no one else ever had

Damiano had read about a dozen books on how to support people with Tourette's, and he'd also talked to other people he knew who had Tourette's - Damiano was thoroughly educated on how to help you, the love of his life

headass this was hard to fuckin write and i know its shitty and the cw’s are a bunch and i cut it but im sorry and hope its good enough

#maneskin #måneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria maneskin #victoria de angelis x reader #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #ethan maneskin #damiano #damiano david #damiano maneskin #damiano david x reader #fanfic #damiano david fanfiction

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carnal-lnstinct · 3 years ago

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𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 "𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢".

Summary: A series of short one-shots inspired by this prompt, 1-35. I am not going to write all the prompts and I will not be writing them in order, but based off inspiration. To fuel my “horny on main” I may focus mainly on writing for Goku but there may be a few with other characters. Not all fics will be suitable for all ages. Minors should not interact with prompts rated mature/18+.

Completed Prompts: 2 / 4 / 16

2. With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Pairing: Goku x Fem!Reader Rating: T Warning: ( mentions of needles, mentions of hospitalization, character death, crying in the club at 2am ) ( Insp. ): “Save me and let me smile, just make me alright.”

You thought now that everyone who lost their lives fighting the saiyans was revived, that once Goku had finally come back home to Earth after his fight on Planet Namek your life together could pick up right where you left off. You couldn’t have asked for a greater gift that year than to welcome him home in his weird ensemble, but the very same man you came to love and missed like crazy. Stronger, even. Displaying from day to day the efforts of his growth from training all those days in his journey to Namek, the golden form that glorified his power, and the new teleportation technique that has come to be handy in your day to day life. It was too close to perfect living with him as if the universe had finally come to peace. The world no longer needed his strength to protect it, so he could do as he pleased and you could continue to keep him close to you. That was the normal you held for three years with your husband-to-be.

But this... Now, this is normal. Those small things that started to accumulate into an obvious problem with your beloved Goku. The beginning was small hitches in that bubbly laugh of his that abruptly stopped it, you couldn’t ignore the way he cringed as if something had hurt before he brushed it off. He tried to smile it away and carry on each time. He still does. Goku could disappear for hours at a time if not a whole day just to train his super saiyan transformation, especially after Vegeta had learned the form as well. Only until he simply started to drone around your home more and more, training alone in the yard for maybe an hour if you tracked him. How winded he would come in as if he had trained for two days straight didn’t add up at all for him at all. Then there was the way he avoided sleeping on his left side and nights you find him holding his chest. You had to drag him to the hospital to be examined.

It was only with the help of Krillin and the others the doctors could get through the examinations. That should have been a sign as well, how the human warriors could so easily overpower a super saiyan like Goku. It hurt you to hear him panic each time the doctor even mentioned having to draw blood or inject him with a helpful serum for the pain he finally opened up about. They didn’t help for long, the toll this illness was taking on his body didn’t let up no matter what the doctors offered. It got worse every day, watching this bundle of joy and sunshine slowly wither into a feeble thing that couldn’t so much as move out of bed without help. Eventually, he was completely bedridden, hooked up to machines that continued to help him breathe and keep fluids running through his body. He didn’t even fight the needles anymore.

The doctors soon told you what you feared. That they had done all they could. If it made it easier for the both of you, he can at least rest somewhere comfy like back at home.

It took only a day to relocate Goku back home. When the home nurse left for the evening, you stood in the doorway watching him sleep for a while with the breathing apparatus hooked to his face and the other machines beeping. So many thoughts came crashing down as you held your mouth to contain the small sob that escaped you. It wasn’t fair for him to end up like this. He gave the world everything he had and this was the fate that awaited him. You looked back up to see that Goku had awakened and tilted his head to look at you, quickly wiping away the build-up in your eyes before smiling and walking over to him.

"Hey. You’re awake!"

"Yeah.." He smiled in return behind his breathing mask, voice hoarse and weary. You stroke a hand across his head as you took a seat on a chair next to him.

"Feeling better to be home, yeah? That hospital scene was becoming a drag, so I figured you would rather come home."

”Hehe, you’re tellin’ me..” Goku looked around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings with an eased sigh.

“...A nurse will be back in a few hours to give you another pain reliever, but said you should be fine for now.” You explain directly. He hates to hear the boring hospital stuff but you make sure he gives it some attention. “How do you feel right now? Do you need anything?”

“I... I dunno..” Goku answers. He falls silent for a moment as he looked out the bedroom window. “King Kai told me... I was dying.. Is that what the doctor said too?“

“...M’hm.” You nodded slightly. Goku let out a small hum as a laugh.

“I see... That’s too bad.. But I guess there’s nothing we can do.” He turns his head back to you, still smiling. “What do we do now? Is there anything you want? I mean... I’m not sure how to get it with my body like this...but-“

“Goku-”

“We can try. My chest isn’t hurtin’ right now...How ‘booout..we go-”

“Goku.” You say more firmly and he looks surprised at you. “You...You can’t leave your bed. But don’t worry, I’m here for you. I’m sure there’s something we can do.”

“...I’m sorry, (Y/n)..”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you have to miss out on havin’ fun.. ’cause of me.“ You blink staring at him for a moment as you gather your thoughts to speak again, then take his hand in yours and let out a soft laugh.

“Don’t be silly, I want to be here with you. Of course, we can still have fun.“

“Is that.. really what you want?“

"I want...” Your breath shudders and you squeeze his hand. Your eyes feel heavy again, warm tears pouring over your cheeks as you let your smile fall. “I want to make your pain go away." You begin to cry, pressing your forehead to his hand. "I want to be able to bring you back with the dragon balls, I don’t wanna have to say goodbye to you Goku, but.. I want you to rest without worry.” You let yourself cry it out for a moment, lifting your face up to look at him again. Choking out another sob, you shake your head helplessly. The truth of the matter was this was just one of only a few more conversations you may have with him regarding his fate. It still feels like you failed him somehow not knowing what to do for him. Just putting on a brave face and waiting for him to die insulted the genuine kindness he put out into the world that could not even save him in return. It could never be enough to just accept this.

You feel Goku’s hand brush your cheek and you rub your face into touch, holding it to your face. “Goku, you have done so much for this world all your life. For the Earth and even Planet Namek... And I think the universe is trying to tell us it's time for you to rest your beautiful soul for a while. But it’s...too soon to say goodbye. We could never get the chance to give back all the amazing things you have done for us." You squeezed his hand further. "I-It's not what I want for me to try and keep you like this. It's what I want for you that I-I know.. I’ll have to let you go. I love you. I'm going to love you in this world and the next, but I want you to know true peace.."

Goku’s eyes lower a little as he watches you. He guides you closer with his hand where he rested your head beneath his neck. " Hey...Don't be silly. Of course I know true peace.. I did die once, ya know." He chuckles weakly, the most you have heard him laugh in a long time. "Had a lot of moments where I felt like I was dying too. But I don't think...I was ever afraid to die. Not as long as I gave it my all, I could never regret it. I know I’ll be okay with King Kai...” You feel him shifting and look up to see Goku moving to sit up in his bed, immediately trying to get him to lie back down but his hands grasp your wrists stopping you. ”Well...I guess, I'm afraid I'll miss you too much (Y/n). Maybe... if I'm really good, King Yemma would let me visit you again." He grins with a brightness you had not seen in so long you couldn’t help but let out a laugh as your tears continued to fall.

"I guess if I hear some rattling around in the kitchen in the middle of the night, I know who to blame." You sniff, wiping your eyes on your wrists. "But I'm telling them to take you back if you make a mess!"

"(Y/n)... Can I lay on you for a while?" You nod at his request and climb onto the bed beside him, careful of all the links to the machines connected to him. Goku eases himself back down resting his head on your lap where he can still look up at you. You brush your hands over his hair again, placing a kiss on one of your fingers and booping his forehead with it. “Ya know... I can't wait to tell my Grandpa about you when I see him again."

"Goku.." You whimpered

"It's gonna be okay.." The saiyan takes your hand in his again, lifting the mask off his face to kiss your palm, letting his lips linger to hold your warmth and scent. He wanted to remember this of you. The hands of the woman who loved him most of all and cared for him in more ways than he knows. The mask slips back on as he continues to hold onto your hand. You can see his eyes look a little heavy, him fighting off his exhaustion despite just woken up. It was the side effect of the medicines he was on.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up. Get your rest okay? We'll talk in the morning." You pull his blanket over his body, continuing to stroke his hair as he closed his eyes with a smile.

"M'hm...Love you, (Y/n)."

He didn't wake up for the next few days. Resting in a coma-like state until, all at once, the friends he had gathered in his lifetime shuddered as you all waited around Goku. And you knew.

#My writing #goku x reader #son goku x reader #goku #dbz imagine #dbz fics #DBZ #Dragon Ball Z #*TWYSILY

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago

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The Stone Gaze

Summary: Virgil hates that he can temporarily turn people into stone and hopes that whatever the mirror superpower his soulmate has is able to counteract it.

He wasn’t quite expecting the energy and impulsiveness of Remus when they met in an Art Exhibition.

/\/\/\

Virgil hated his powers. He hated a lot of things really, but the power he had was the number one thing he hated and that barely even counted as self-hate or self-deprecation given a lot of the reasoning for it was how his powers impacted his life.

The only time he'd come close to thinking his 'superpower' (as society had deemed things not everybody could do) was when they were studying mythology and had covered Medusa. She had turned people to stone permanently as a gift to protect herself from those who would idolise or attack her. Before they learnt the ending that had seemed like a pretty cool thing to be able to do, but then she was killed as part of a heroes journey and Virgil realised how little people would think of his power should they learn about it. It was mythologically a villains power after all.

Hiding his powers wasn't enough to keep Virgil from the attention of bullies. They picked on him because he always wore his father hoodie after they lost him to illness. They'd call him names because he'd learnt to keep his hair, especially his fringe long enough to cover his eyes so nobody would get accidentally turned to stone. Eventually they'd even harass him to do their homework because his Dad pushed for good study habits.

Refusing to react to their insults or requests only reached the point they tried to beat him up once. When the leader of that group had shoved him against a wall his hair had fallen backwards, leaving a clear gaze directed to the bullies. As soon as the leader became stone the other kids had fled, crying for the teacher to come help.

Virgil's Dad had been called to the school to pick him up and explicitly direct everyone's attention to what had clearly been happening, given the position the boy had been frozen in while refusing to allow any punishment to be given to Virgil. Even once that was accepted by the teachers and school they tried to demand that he wore sunglasses or a visor to school for the safety of staff and children alike.

“I will not police the clothes my son wears because your staff cannot respect someone who doesn't meet their gaze directly. He has found that the long fringe is enough to counteract his powers and given the years he has attended this school without incident that should be perfectly suitable to carry on with.” His Dad has lectured the head teacher that day. He'd given more evidence that Virgil hadn't listened to, but the sentence stuck in his head. Once more his powers were up to him to control and prevent from being used and it felt like an even heavier weight to carry than he'd already found it.

The days of his schooling after that were lonely, isolated as he feared anyone he might befriend would try to meet his eyes. The only hope he had for getting through his life was that somewhere in their world was his soulmate; a person whose powers would mirror his own, and possibly, on the nights Virgil was willing to dream impossible things, counteract his gaze that turned people to stone.

/Over to Remus\

Roman had been the one to bring Remus into exhibiting his work. Honestly, Roman had been the twin to get them both into the art world in the first place. The charismatic, charming artist, whose painting were filled with energy most paintings couldn't capture and dreamt of finding his soulmate. When the art world had discovered he had a brother just as skilled in sculpting they were pulled around and paired together for exhibits constantly.

Remus had originally tried to explain the truth, that their works looked like they held more of life in them because that was what their powers did. Roman could bring paintings to life temporarily, and had often painted portraits of his friends and family so he could still talk to them while they were away. Remus in contrast brought sculptures to life when he touched them with a wish to talk. They'd always be in different positions than he'd awakened them from by the time the power wore off so he got praised for how realistic or believable his positions were.

None of that praise meant anything to Remus though. He sculpted things to feel less alone, to have people to talk to that wouldn't react in disgust or turn away when he said something a little more twisted than society was used to hearing. Each model he made had a mouth to talk and their own way to express their reactions so he could for a while feel accepted by someone other than his brother.

Today he had actually listened to Roman's claims that it's better for their exhibitions when the artist spends times at the display. Of course that didn't mean he was going to dress any differently that normal, just throwing on the torn skinny jeans and an off the shoulder top, with a jacket draped over his shoulders for when the air conditioning got too cold. Art Galleries always seemed to keep the space too cold, Remus swore on it.

“You can't be in here Mate.” An angry voice said, a hand accompanying it yanking him around to face a tall suited man, scowling down at him. “This is an art gallery and I don't care what the fuck you did to sneak in here you're gonna be-”

Remus had already started glancing for a nearby sculpture to reach for when the words cut off. The man whose voice had slowly been raising had now turned to stone, finger raised to point out the door.

“I'm the artist?” He blinked, properly turning now to try and find who else was in the gallery that might have done it.

A few metres directly behind where Remus was, there was a man looking like he would run any second, staring at the floor as though ashamed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” He mumbled, “The yelling startled me.”

“You're okay, dude. No harm, no wild birds around here.” Remus nodded, reaching back to poke the side of the angry man, focusing on him being alive and calm now.

“Apologies, I probably shouldn't have yelled, but seriously, homeless people aren't allowed in art galleries.” The man who had been yelling declared, having taken a deep breath as the stone released him.

Remus just raised an eyebrow at that. “Just because I haven't dressed all posh like you doesn't mean I'm homeless. And given I'm the one who sculpted most of the statues in this gallery, I believe your judgemental attitude can be taken elsewhere, or shoved up your ass since that seems to be where the rest of your personality is kept. Have your fun in hell, not in my gallery.” He spoke quickly, already directing the man away from the gallery, and nodding to the security guard that wandered between their exhibits.

He didn't delay any longer than that, caring more for the man who had turned him to stone than anything more that could be said. That had to be the complete opposite to his own powers, whether it had been a permanent transformation or just a temporary one, he wanted to know.

Luckily the man was still stood there, blinking at the spot where the angry fellow had been frozen. “He- he shouldn't... That never wears off that quickly.” He was mumbling to himself, not realising Remus had returned.

“Hey there modern day Medusa, you doing alright?” Remus tapped his shoulder, tilting his head when the acknowledgement was for the man to stare at his neck rather than look at him.

“F-fine. Sorry about that though. It really was an accident.”

“Why are you apologising for helping me calm the situation down before he did more than yell? I got him out of the stone and sent on his way. It's all hot stuff in heaven today.” Remus was genuinely confused over what was upsetting the man in front of him. Everything had been sorted out so surely they could move on to talking about soulmates already.

There was a quick glance up, to stare at his ear now, or maybe something over his shoulder. “You got him out of the stone? That wasn't my power just wearing off more quickly than normal?” There was a plea in his voice, as though scared of his own power.

“Yep, and while I can't really prove that here, given everything is already photographed and needs to remain the same to be sold, you can come see my works in progress. I'm Remus, by the way, Remus Windsor.” The offer was easy to give. No matter what people believed about needing to test contrasting powers in public to understand if they're completely opposites, he just wanted to calm this person down. Roman would understand that and hopefully leave to paint in the park or some sappy shit like that.

“Virgil and, yeah, please can we do that?” Virgil nodded, holding a shaking hand out towards him, while the other started pulling the hair that had fallen to his ears back in front of his eyes.

As Remus took his hand he was finally able to meet Virgil's gaze and grinned, tugging on it so they could run out of the gallery together, looking something between art thieves making their escape and teenagers causing mischief.

/To the art gallery\

“Princess, you better get your fat ass and any talking paintings the hell out of here. I've got my Medusa and we need to confirm this shit without an audience.” Remus barged through the doors still tugging Virgil along behind him.

Virgil was astounded by what had occurred in the last hour. He'd only visited the art gallery on a whim, curious over just how lifelike a sculptures positioning could be compared to what he'd seen when accidentally using his own power on people. He hadn't expected to almost add to the exhibition temporarily or to meet someone who could be his soulmate there as well.

Now he could only look around the studio that Remus had explained he shared with his brother. The walls were covered in paintings in various stages of completion. Some looked finished but missing the energy that the paintings back in the gallery had held, others were clearly completely done, but held back. A few canvases were merely sketches or only had their backgrounds coloured in.

Then there was the stone. There were throughout the entire studio several large boulders, some chipped into enough that a hand could be seen reaching out, or the nose of a dog. A few were just legs waving into the air, vague shapes for the rest of the body chipped away but the lips immaculately carved. There was even a potters wheel at the opposite end with a few vases and ceramic models left on a table beside it.

“Remus, seriously, you cannot just kick me out. I'm doing an oil painting.” There was a man identical to Remus stood in front of the only Easel in the gallery, now turned to them frowning with his brush poised to the canvas.

Virgil dithered for a moment before stepping forward. “Oil paints don't exactly dry quickly. You could spare a few minutes for us to figure our if we're soulmates couldn't you?” He muttered, for the first time in years looking up as someone turned to him. He wasn't going to deliberately use his powers without permission now, but having some evidence that Remus actually can reverse the medusa affect straight away would seriously take a weight from his mind.

The painter watched him for a moment before stepping closer, setting his brush down. “I'm Roman. Wouldn't it be more useful for you to prove this on a real person? Although I can understand the uses of turning Remus's sculptures back to stone at will. There's been a few incidents where they've been even worse than he can be.”

“Roman's volunteering to be tortured. Let's do it, see how long we can keep making him stone and real again in quick succession.” Remus stage whispered at him, cackling when Roman flipped him off.

Virgil just nodded, “Only once. I want to know if Remus actually can reverse this.” He cautioned, but turned his head enough to properly meet Roman's gaze, watching as grey stole over his body in a second.

Before Virgil could worry over how Remus would react to seeing that done deliberately, he was leaning forwards to shove his brother backwards, giggling along with the action. Roman was human again by the time he hit the floor, now scowling up at Remus.

“Okay, Rude. I offer to help my darling sibling confirm their soulmate is theirs and you shove me to the floor. I cannot work in such a hostile environment. I'm taking my leave of you, pray it won't be permanently.” He stood up, throwing the glare at them and leaving with all the dramatics of a pantomime dame.

Virgil had to snicker along with Remus as the door was slammed shut. Honestly, half of it was that he had to laugh or he might just burst into tears. In all his wildest dreams he hadn't thought his soulmate would be so excited to have his powers with them.

“Let's try on my figurines! I'm trying to make a dragon witch I can set lose to torment Roman when I'm heading out, and already have my Cthulhu baby, just waiting to be given life. Wanna see if you can turn them back to stone if I wake 'em up?” Remus was once again holding his hand and tugging him to the other end of the room as soon as he finished laughing.

“Before we do that, are you wanting a romantic soulmate, or a platonic one? I don't really care which we have but I'd be happier if we got to know each other first.” Virgil hesitated a moment, tugging back on his arm.

Remus waved off the question. “We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. If you want sex or not I'm making models I can sleep with anyway. They're funny to talk to if they realise how I made their bodies. Come on, meet my Cthulhu baby!” The whine was emphasised by bouncing and Virgil's arm being jumped up and down rapidly.

“Okay, okay, guess that explains why some are so twisted around as though trying to hide their bodies.” Virgil laughed, walking once more towards the table.

Virgil hated his superpower, and probably always would, but perhaps Remus can help him find a couple of things it's good to be medusa for.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #creativitwins #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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damned-thoughts · 2 years ago

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DWs scariest episode and its meaning

Warning: I'm not a professional, I only have some experience with psychology on a basic level. Therefore, this theory might be theoretically incorrect. But I'll try my best not to make any misleading mistakes.

Doctor Who is usually known as a sci-fi show and not a horror show. Despite this, there are few pretty scary episodes that could fit the horror definition.

One of those episodes is Midnight, from fourth series of Nu-who.

The episode starts as the doctor travels with Donna to the wellness planet made entirely of diamonds, where they split up and Doctor decides to go to a trip through the dangerous planet with a travel agency by himself.

But something goes horribly wrong. Suddenly, their vehicle stops in the middle of nowhere and is unable to move. Then, they hear a knocking from the outside, even though there can't be any life in the planet's environment.

The knocking is getting louder and more urgent, scaring everyone on board, mostly a female presenting person named Sky. She's freaking out, screaming something's coming for her.

Eventually, she becomes possessed by this unknown entity, which has been sleeping in the planet and now awaken by the unexpected visitors.

Possessed Sky repeats every word said in a hungry and unsettling way, until she repeats only after the Doctor, he is chosen and then she consumes his speech, the Doctor is now the one repeating.

But what does all that mean?

It reflects multilayer psýché with something unexplainable and dark, which lurks inside of us. Lovecraftian transcendence, which is part of our reality albeit we don't want to admit it.

Not only does this episode have properly developed characters and a great plot, it has also an interesting meaning.

I presume the planet is our unconsciousness, being much larger then our consciousness, the bus.

The outside of the planet is unreachable, full of secrets and they are unable to enter it, they're only allowed to observe it for a short time, otherwise they would die. They can't affect the planet, but the planet directly affects them.

And somewhere in the unconscious, there's waiting a serious mental illness/personality disorder to be triggered. The entity, whose source is not known. Where did it come from?

Once it's triggered, usually by an accident, it attacks the people exposed and they have different reactions. Some of them are immediately killed by the illness, like the driver, some of them remain frightened by it, as the entity knocks to the fragile walls of sanity, trying to reach them.

Eventually, the person who had the strongest predispositions for it manifests some toxic traits, becomes possessed - narcissistic sociopath for example. Their soul is deep down inside paralyzed and the illness takes control.

The person is not evil, the entity is displaying "toxic" behavior though.

When such person has also a type A personality, the problem with sinister repeating emerges.

The Type A personality behavior was first described as a potential risk factor for heart disease in the 1950s by cardiologists Meyer Friedman and Ray Rosenman.

Type A is generally more aggressive and competitive than the calmer and more creative type B. If the type A suffers from specific kinds of mental disorder, they show pathological way of functioning in a society. They don't develop a personality, thus they have to copy one. Being type A makes them aggressive and they're trying to find a weak person, usually a type B, to steal from.

In this case, The tenth Doctor represents type B personality, the one that's easier to steal from as it's less assertive. That's why he's chosen. At first Sky repeats after him, then she catches up and talks at the same time, which is terrifying, and at last she starts to talk before him, absorbs his personality and make it her own. The Doctor is now paralyzed.

The rest of the people on board are facing it and are weakened by their illnesses as well, so they panic and don't know what to do. They want to get rid of the toxic person from their group, but they aren't sure who is it, since Sky has manipulated them into thinking it's the Doctor.

In the end, they decide they need to throw the Doctor out and almost succeed. However one of them becomes aware of the truth and saves the Doctor, sacrificing themselves while also killing Sky.

In reality, the toxic people in our lives of course don't deserve to die. Despite this, they often deserve to be cut out of our lives, no matter how hard it is.

#doctor who #film analysis #horror scifi #scifi #science fiction #tv show fandom #dr who #10th doctor

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forkanna · 3 years ago

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NOTICE: Back To The Future and related concepts © Robert Zemeckis/Bob Gale/Universal. Frozen and related concepts © Diznee. This story, plot, and prose © Jessica X and Fruipit. Cover art © Moon_MLR. All rights reserved.

WARNING: This story will contain coarse language, incestuous romance between a mother and daughter, and some smut (these chapters will have warnings). Also contains Punzanna (Rapunzel/Anna) content. If you have a problem with any of those things, DO NOT READ; just walk away for everyone's sake.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: IT'S CORONATION DAY! What better day than this to start off the last installment of our three-part time-travelling mess? None I can think of! (Except maybe October 21st, or November 5th... for Fluxy reasons haha) Today happens to be the approximate date that canonical Elsa was crowned queen of Arendelle, and it's time to crown Elsa McFly the queen of wibbly-wobbly-wincest yet again.

Thank you all so much for waiting. Life has really been a journey between the end of Part II and now. As for this fic, by this point, the plot might be completely unrecognisable for Back To The Future fans. Please keep that in mind when you're seeing just how wildly we diverged from the source material. That said, we hope you like it and that it's been worth the wait!

Jess and Frui

PROLOGUE

Elsa McFly couldn't believe how much everything could change in thirty years. Again.

Everything, from the predictable things like technology, to others like plants and the world's actual attempts to create a greener planet. It was not something she'd ever imagined – and it gave her a sense of how Anna felt when she'd turned up in 1985. Elsa was very definitely out of her time.

The town itself hadn't changed much. The buildings were old, streets even older. There had been no population boom to strike Dell Valley; it remained relatively consistent. Certain aspects had been cleaned up, of course; less graffiti, condemned properties were gone. Less poverty, too, it seemed, although the homeless may have just moved on from the park outside the courthouse and onto other areas.

Little Elsa Baines's childhood home no longer existed, which was a slightly sad thought. It had been knocked down and turned into townhouses – they looked tiny from the outside, but chances are they were really quite spacious and affordable. No chance for her to go inside, but neither did she care all that much anyway.

The McFly family home at Aren Estates was still hanging around. The whole neighbourhood had really been improved – even though the houses were still quite old, the place was clean and well-lit, lawns neatly kept. Sitting on a bench just down the street, it gave her a chance to just observe. She was only somewhat surprised to learn that the home had stayed in the family through all these years. Anna had never moved out – Jennifer had actually moved in. That was good, she thought approvingly. Both the fact that their love had lasted, and that they hadn't strayed far. It gave her a sense of hope.

Thus far, she hadn't seen herself – though Doc had warned her to stay out of sight of her future self if she did. That made it hard, given that the whole purpose of her 'visit' was to see how future-Anna and future-Elsa interacted. To make sure that they could move on, that they had moved on. Perhaps gain some insight into how the 2015 versions could do the same.

But maybe… she wouldn't learn that secret. Maybe it didn't work at all because Elsa hadn't seen herself. Not a hair nor a finger. She had peered through the front window whilst the house had been empty, and seen nothing. No photographs or other sentiments lying around. Definitely one of Anna and Punz – they had the full white wedding, both women in dresses. The photo was displayed proudly in the living room, the inhabitants moving like something out of Harry Potter; yet another technological advancement.

Perhaps it had been irreconcilable. It wasn't really too far out of the question. There was only one other thought that she didn't really want to think about, and yet it passed through her mind regardless.

What if… what if she wasn't around anymore at all?

And so she had moved away from the house, going off to wait on her bench near the Delorean – parked a ways down the street and hidden – while she waited for Anna and Jennifer to show. They eventually exited, talking about something – it sounded like an argument, actually. The words didn't carry down the street, but the volume did. Elsa watched as Anna's hand came up and pinched at her nose. She turned around, locking the front door as Jennifer opened the car and slid into the driver's seat.

God, she still looked beautiful. It felt less weird, looking at her like this. Anna was the same age as Elsa, though she had definitely aged better. Whether it be diet and exercise or some revolutionary health product, she looked like she was barely forty instead of pushing fifty. Her freckles stood stark against pale skin, and in the morning sun her coppery hair shone.

Jennifer was the same, though she'd never quite held the same allure for Elsa. It was most definitely for the best; it was one thing to carry an ill-advised torch for ones daughter, given they had actually fallen in love when they were both teenagers. Being attracted to her daughter's girlfriend was… too much. Though Jennifer was always beautiful.

Still, a small smile worked its way onto her face as she watched Anna knock on the window to the car. Jennifer rolled it down, and they conversed for a few seconds before Anna leaned fully in, kissing her on the cheek. When she pulled back, she seemed to be smiling. So, even though they fought, there was still a lot of love there. Good. They deserved that.

Then Jennifer was pulling from the driveway, Anna waving her goodbye. She picked up her handbag, and Elsa decided that it was probably time for her to leave. She had been creepy enough. Standing up, she accidentally dropped the car keys as they slid from her lap. When she stood upright again, thumbing the keyring, she looked towards Anna one more time.

Her blood ran cold when she found a pair of green eyes already focused on her.

She tried to turn away. To do as Doc said and not interfere with the goings-on of a time outside her own; unlike poor, bewildered Anna in the 80s, she fully appreciated the risks and the dangers. But she only got a few steps before she heard Anna calling her name.

"ELSA?!"

It wouldn't do to try and make a run for it. All that would accomplish was causing a scene in the quaint little suburban neighbourhood. The footsteps drew closer, and closer… it felt like a small eternity, waiting there. But she couldn't bring herself to turn around and approach Anna herself.

"Elsa… it is you, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else," she tried feebly.

"And I'm afraid I don't buy that. So what are you doing here?"

The tears in Anna's voice was what finally made her turn around. The lines around her eyes were a little more apparent from such close distance, though they still weren't as pronounced as her own. Crinkles at the corners of her mouth, faint crow's feet. Still radiant and full of life as she ever was. She and Jennifer both looked to be relatively trim as their younger selves had been, though Punz a little plumper than Anna.

"I… doing something stupid," she finally whispered, dropping all of her pretence. "Trying to see… h-how… you and I could…"

Seeming to sense that Elsa was about to break down and expire, her daughter grinned and reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder. The tears were falling freely, but she otherwise seemed to be able to maintain a normal demeanor.

"Come inside. Jennifer's already gone; you don't have to worry about polluting the timeline, even though this is the future."

A little stunned by just how easily Anna seemed to assess the situation, Elsa took the hand and let her lead her back to their home. It didn't take long to be pushed through the front door. Anna had certainly looked like she was on her way somewhere, but when Elsa asked, she'd just brushed it off.

"Oh, it's fine," she said. "I mean- I'll just have to send a quick message but please, make yourself at home!"

She disappeared down the hallway, and Elsa didn't feel as lecherous as she thought she would when she watched her go. The fashion was something else; light fabrics that seemed to fit perfectly. Complimented Anna's skin and her freckles and her eyes – and now that she wasn't directly in front of them, Elsa could think back and realise that they were definitely a brighter green than they used to be. Contacts or something else, she wasn't sure.

Elsa didn't hear Anna moving about, which meant she wasn't returning just yet. Which meant Elsa did the one thing she thought she should: she went to the kitchen and attempted to make two cups of hot chocolate. Trusting that her daughter hadn't changed so much as to no longer keep the powdered stuff in the house, she began- well, not snooping as such. Just looking for the chocolate.

She couldn't find anything, but she did find a small glass container of what looked like liquorice bullets labeled "drinking chocolate". Plucking the jar off the shelf, she opened the lid and took a sniff.

"Good, right?"

"Ahh!" Elsa cried, dropping the jar. It dropped to the floor in slow motion, giving Elsa ample time to squeeze her eyes shut and wait for the inevitable smash.

It didn't come.

"Hey, relax," Anna said, stepping forward. Her hand came to rest at the small of Elsa's back for a second, almost naturally, before she bent down to pick up the jar and the lid. Luckily, none of the little pellets had fallen out. She tapped the side. "Unbreakable glass. Pretty common these days." There was a smile on her face, but Elsa's heart was still racing too fast for her to really take much notice of it.

And Anna's hand was still on her back. Taking a quick step backwards, Elsa found herself pressing against the sink. She was grateful that Anna didn't move forward with her. Instead, she took out two of the chocolate-things and moved over to a machine. Within seconds, the warm aroma of a barista-made hot chocolate filled Elsa's nostrils.

She didn't speak. She wasn't sure she knew what to say, even if her voice hadn't been trapped behind the lump in her throat. Luckily for the both of them, Anna never had been one to thrive in silence.

"I've been expecting you to drop by," she began softly. She puttered about the kitchen as she spoke, grabbing cups and plates, getting the hot chocolate and some snacks from a device that looked like a wall of a beehive, hundreds of tiny hexagons surrounding different things. She didn't approach Elsa at all. "Jennifer and I have been waiting a few years, actually. We weren't quite sure when, but we thought it would be soon."

"You did? So… you already knew- well, of course you would," she sighed, shaking her head. "Obviously, by now someone would have told you I took this little trip, either me or Doc, or anyone. Silly of me to think it would go unnoticed for thirty years."

Anna's face fell slightly. She was still smiling, but it was a bit sadder. "Actually… that isn't entirely what happened."

"It isn't?"

"No. You see… no one has seen you for thirty years."

Elsa's blood ran cold. It took her a few seconds to find her voice again, and as she worked at it Anna merely gazed at her, eyes drinking in her face. As if she had never been so happy to see it in all her life. Which, if it had really been that long…

"But… but I was going to go back, I…"

"Were you?" This time, her hands went to her hips, as if she were the parent. Even though they were the same age now. "Because I think if you really intended to do that, Mom, we wouldn't be dealing with this situation right now."

Swallowing hard, Elsa looked away, clutching at her heart. "Well… alright. Going back to our home in 2015 was not my primary plan. It was my backup plan. But I really did hope… that I would find something here, some small sign, anything that could show me that I should reconsider…"

"Where did you go?" Anna asked her softly, finally raising her hands to rest on Elsa's shoulders. "Nobody ever knew what became of you. Not even… where you died, if you died… nothing. You were gone from our lives. Dad had his first heart attack because of that."

"First?" she asked with sudden urgency.

"Relax, relax," she soothed her, stroking up and down her upper arms. "He's fine. Still kicking, still writing. He lives with Wendy and her family now."

Her emotions did the fastest flip-flop of her entire life. "I… Wendy has a family?" Her eyes brimmed with tears of pure joy.

"Yes, and don't ask for any details," Anna warned her with a stern glare. Elsa nodded her understanding; she didn't want to accidentally jeopardise her elder daughter's happiness. "We have other shit to worry about."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked. Anna gave her a look, but didn't say anything. Not at first. She instead took a step away, picking up both mugs of hot chocolate in one hand and a container of something else in the other.

"Come sit," she said, beckoning gently.

Elsa still seemed hesitant to come too close of her own accord. After learning what she'd put her family through, she assumed there would be a bit more… anger. Maybe even hatred. But there was none – at least, not directed at her. Elsa could still see something unpleasant swirling in Anna's eyes, pooling beneath the sadness she had inflicted, too. It hurt to look, so she didn't.

"Did I…do something?" Anna asked softly, once they were seated on the lounge. "Did I…chase you away?"

"What? No, of course not, Anna-"

"Then why? Mom…" Anna's voice broke briefly, but when Elsa's eyes flickered up to her daughter, she didn't seem to be crying again. At least, not yet. "Mom you just left us. Dad and John and Wendy. Me… I blamed myself for so long, too. When you didn't come back. Finally saw that shrink." She gave a sniffle, and Elsa could definitely hear the tears in Anna's voice when she spoke again. "It really… it really messed me up. Jennifer was a godsend. She kept me from doing anything really stupid."

Elsa felt her own eyes welling at that. "I didn't want to cause more pain," she began. "We are… were… stuck in a loop. An endless cycle that I couldn't allow to continue. Not with my teenaged daughter. The only thing that would make it stop is… if I removed myself from the equation. You'd be free to live your life with Jennifer, without worrying about me."

"But I DID, Mom!" Anna cried. And yes, she was truly in tears now. They streamed down her face, turning it splotchy red and sticky. "I did worry. I thought you hated me; hated what I did, what I'd put you through. I didn't feel like you were saving me, I felt like you were punishing me!"

Suddenly, she stood up. Without offering any explanation, she turned and left the room, leaving Elsa alone and confused. Through the walls she could hear the telltale sound of someone speaking – Anna, in this case. It was impossible to hear what she was saying, though.

When Anna returned, some minutes later, Elsa still hadn't moved. Her chocolate was… still warm, surprisingly. She hadn't touched it, though. Clearing her throat, Anna spoke.

"Jen's coming home," she said softly. "I thought- I thought I could do this and I can't. I-" She paused, sucking in a breath. When she found her voice, it was thin and watery. "I still love you. And that probably really messes with your plan, or whatever you had."

Elsa was completely crestfallen to find out this was how things were. This plot of hers to remove herself from the problematic equation that was their love – their life – would make Anna this unhappy? She understood it, of course, but she had hoped that she would be able to get on with her life. Without the needless stress of a mother who couldn't seem to stop doing unmotherly things.

"Anna… my God, I just don't know what I'm doing." Finally, she did pick up the mug and took a sip. To give herself a moment. "You were so- wow, this is good."

"I'm glad," Anna managed with a weak chuckle. "Drink pellets are like, next-level Keurig."

"It's not your 'fault,' though. It's mine. I thought… I assumed that the plan I had worked out in the years after realising who you would become should have been enough. That I could just stubbornly resist temptation and everything would go back to normal. But I didn't count on you being just as tempted as me! Young me was so much prettier, and appealing, so-"

"Oh, don't go down that road," she sighed, face pained. "You're still as hot as you were the last time I saw you, which was as hot as you were in the 80s. But that isn't really the issue."

That stunned her completely. "It's not? News to me."

"Oh, of course not! It's that we were in love. Not because you're a cute blonde, but because… I just really wanted to be with the person you were. That sweet, exciting girl I met in '85. Despite all the walls in our way, the obstacles, I think we both know that my little trip into the past showed us a part of each other that we couldn't see before. A soulmate."

Elsa's lips fumbled uselessly for a few seconds. When she still couldn't speak, Anna eventually allowed herself a small smile, then whispered, "Spoilers."

"But… but Jennifer…" The protest was weak; she was too shocked to do any better than that.

Anna grinned. It was small, barely there. "You think she's with me because of my dashing looks?" she asked. She seemed genuinely curious, too. "I've had thirty years without you, Elsa. Three decades to think. And so has she."

There was a pause as Elsa absorbed all this information. Then, Anna surprised her with a question.

"Do you remember when you first met me?" At first, Elsa just looked confused.

"You mean, in the 80s?" Anna nodded. So she answered, "I- yes. I do."

"And do you remember what happened after dinner? We went to that café and Tiana brought us choco-banana milkshakes?"

This time, it was Elsa who nodded. "I've never forgotten…" she murmured. "You were the first person I ever shared that much with."

"Do you… know why?" Anna asked softly. She seemed to know something that Elsa didn't, so she continued. "That was the moment I stopped thinking, 'Oh God, my mother wants to bang everything that moves' and I realised…"

She trailed off, and Elsa was almost too afraid to ask what. She already knew. "What did you realise?"

"That it was me. That you had a thing for me, not just an out-of-control libido. And it only because more obvious the more time I spent with you."

Elsa couldn't look at her. Her hands came up to cover her face as she shook her head. She didn't notice Anna move, but she certainly felt her when she sat next to her on the couch. Elsa didn't fight it when Anna pulled her into a hug – she relished in it. Far too much, if she were honest.

But… was that true anymore? Anna was an adult. She, like Elsa, had thirty years to come to terms with what she had done as a teenager. And with whom. And nothing she was saying was a lie, either. Elsa could feel that much. At the time, she hadn't known what it was; even today, it remained an indescribable pull that was impossible to shake. The very thought of what she had put Anna through – or rather, what she was going to put Anna through – was nearly enough to shake her.

By that same token, though, millions of people survived without their other half. Their… soulmate. So would Anna. She deserved better than Elsa, who always seemed to make the wrong choice.

"I'm… sorry…" Elsa began softly. Her hands came away from her face so she could wrap them around Anna's waist, pulling her close. "I'm so… so sorry…"

Anna pulled back, just far enough to look in Elsa's eyes. "I know," she said before leaning forward, lips pressing against her cheek and lingering for a solid second before she moved away. They looked at each other, already knowing what the other was thinking.

This time, when Anna leaned forward, Elsa did the same, coming to meet her. And it was everything she had been missing for thirty years. Everything she had wanted, and never allowed herself to have again because Anna was too young — or rather, Elsa herself had grown too old. Though apparently, Anna disagreed, and still did even in the future.

As their lips slid over each other, Elsa finally allowed her hands to move up Anna's back, to truly give herself over to the contact. There was no shame, no pushing her away, no stammered excuses; Anna kissed back with the ferocity of a thousand warriors, and a level of experience her younger self had never possessed. It felt strong, and wonderful, and all of the things that she had found it to be when Anna was barely a woman without any of the guilt. Or more accurately, without the guilt having any true bite.

"This," she gasped when Anna broke away to kiss down her neck, "wasn't wh-why I came here!"

"I know," Anna responded. She sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly as she forced herself to draw back, smiling at Elsa. "God, you still do it for me. I knew I still loved you and missed you, but after thirty years, I did start to wonder about the physical aspect and all… chemistry, whatever."

"But it still isn't right," Elsa sighed, devoid of true conviction anymore. "And I still don't see how we're going to make this work without… well, ruining our family."

"At least you're talking about trying to make it work now. That's a good sign." Reaching up into her hair, Anna undid the bun Elsa had it stuck in and ran her hands through it until the soft platinum hair fell in waves down her shoulders. "This beautiful young lady, Elsa Baines…"

Against her own expectations, Elsa bit her bottom lip and let out a shy giggle. That was truly the first time Anna had been 'in control' of the situation, and she felt an odd thrill in the pit of her stomach that forced the sound out of her. When Anna heard it, she grinned and left a brief peck on her lips.

"You are," Anna murmured softly. "And you always have been." But then she was backing away more fully, rising to her feet. Elsa could see how her legs wobbled, just a little. She had done that to Anna?

Then again, she doubted that she would be able to stand properly, either. This Anna – the confident one who didn't make Elsa feel like a cougar – had lit something in her that she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. Yes, she had certainly felt it in 2015, but it had been tainted by the fact that Anna was a teenager and she should not be having these kinds of liaisons with her forty-seven year old mother.

That was no longer a concern. And who knew? Perhaps the laws were a little more lenient in 2045; an option worth looking into, at the very least. Or perhaps not. Maybe it was immaterial.

"Anna…" Elsa began softly as her daughter crossed the room to fiddle with a panel, inlaid into the wall. "As much as I want to- to stay here with you, or return to 2015, I can't- I have a plan."

She didn't say any more, but she didn't need to. "I know," Anna said softly. "Can I- can you do a favor for me, though? Can you take this to me, about a month ago? From my time, not yours." She held out a small triangle. Elsa had a few guesses for what it may be, and none of them seemed particularly good.

"Anna, don't you see? I can't! You know what Doctor Pabbie said. His 'rules'. I may not understand the science completely, but I know I don't want to destroy the universe as long as you're in it!"

"Don't worry, it's… I prepared for that. Promise-promise. That's why I'm not sending you back to teenage-me. Look – if you think we shouldn't be together, if you really think that our lives would be better with you gone, then… go. Don't look back. Don't go back and give that to me. I won't make you. And I won't hate you." She stopped there, the reason why obvious: her eyes had filled with tears. She was smiling, still, but there was pain etched on her face. "Love you, Mom."

And for the first time, Elsa truly thought about changing the plan she had firmly in place. Her passport had already been renewed and she had a plane ticket booked, but it was open-ended; she could exchange it. She had second thoughts almost constantly, but this was the first time they had weight enough to make her reconsider.

"I'll… give this some serious thought, Anna," she whispered as she took the triangle, tucking it into her purse. She'd have to remember to stow it somewhere safe eventually, especially if she decided not to give it to Anna's past self; it could be dangerous in anyone else's hands. "Giving in to our feelings still sounds like an awful thing to do to you on paper, but…"

"But we aren't on paper," she affirmed for both of them, and Elsa smiled back at her. They kissed briefly again. "Now get out of here before I decide you need to stay. God knows I love having you around… but if I'm right, if true love wins, then this future is going to change, anyway."

Elsa snorted. "Now you sound like me. Doc really messed up how we understand time, didn't he?"

"Maybe a little." As she walked Elsa to the door, hand in hand, Anna leaned over and whispered, "By the way… if you're worried about ageing and looking 'too old' for young-me, you could always make an appointment at a rejuvenation clinic. Adds a good thirty-to-forty years to your life. Punz and I haven't had the full treatment yet, but we've had a thing or two done. We're young, we have plenty of time."

"Rejuvenation clinic? That sounds like cheating."

"It is," Anna laughed, and they both shared a grin. "But the world isn't quite as overpopulated as it used to be after the… well, nevermind that. Just stay out of Europe and China in 2020."

Feeling an odd chill down her spine, considering Europe was where she had intended to "retire" as per her plans, Elsa nodded and embraced her. "I will. Oh, Anna… how can I be both so excited and so confused?"

"I think it's called… possibilities," Anna said softly, holding her mother tight. There was a hesitance as they slowly released one another, moving back so their hands rested on each other's elbows.

"I don't want to leave," Elsa said softly. "But I know I have to…" She couldn't stay here, no matter how much she might wish it. No matter how unfair it all was. Anna wore a sad smile as her hand came up to cup Elsa's cheek, thumb running gently over the lined skin.

"I know," came her soft words. "I don't want you to go."

Those words seemed to help Elsa break away. Perhaps it should have been harder to leave, knowing that this Anna felt the same. That if circumstances were different, it would have been perfect. But instead, it made it easier. Anna loved her. She had always loved her – and still did – and yet she survived. Elsa could leave and Anna would still grow up happy and healthy. Kristoff probably understood. John and Wendy… maybe they knew and maybe they didn't.

Wiping at her eyes, which had dampened but not truly filled with tears, Elsa smiled.

"Goodbye, Anna," she said. "I love you."

And Anna simply said, "I know," and that was that.

It didn't take long for her resolve to falter. Truly she was only halfway down the street, the feel of Anna's gaze on the back of her head still fresh, before she began having doubts. Her hand strayed to her purse, where Anna's odd little triangle lay. What had she said? If Elsa truly believed they shouldn't be together, then she could simply ignore it. However… if a single shred of her was uncertain, if she thought that their love was bigger than the space-time continuum, then she should take it to Anna of one month prior.

Legs growing weak, Elsa collapsed on a sidewalk bench. She had a decision to make. And she had all the time in the world; she had a time machine. But she knew that she would have to have one final conversation before she made that choice. Much as she loved her daughter, she was no scientist.

"There's only one man who can help me," she whispered a few minutes later as she finally regained the strength to round the corner to where the DeLorean lay sleeping. Waiting for its temporary mistress to give it new marching orders toward a shared destiny.

To Be Continued…

#Fractal The Future #elsanna fanfiction #forkanna writes #Back to the Future #jess the writer #elsanna #moon_mlr

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priscilla9993 · 4 years ago

Text

Killian Jones and Alcoholism

This is mainly a summary of things relating Killian/Hook to alcohol/rum. It was done for a college paper and is very long, therefore it’s under the break. To warn you, it is going to be mainly Wish Hook based since I needed to narrow it down and it was easier to show how he handled alcohol as a recovering alcoholic. Enjoy!

The character in question for this case study is Killian Jones, well known by his more colorful moniker of Captain Hook, as portrayed from the ABC TV show Once Upon A Time. He lives in a region of a fantasy realm known as the Enchanted Forest. He used to be a Royal Navy Lieutenant with his older brother Liam, straight-laced on being good and not getting into trouble in any way, especially after getting somewhere in life and no longer subjected to being an indentured deckhand like when their father abandoned them as kids. During a daring quest to Neverland to find some medicine for the king, Peter Pan said they had been tricked to bring back a poisonous plant called Dreamshade, meant to be used as a weapon against unsuspecting enemies. Killian was wary, ready to denounce his service to the king, but his brother was willing to have faith in a noble king and country. With one swift motion of the plant’s prick hoping to prove otherwise, Liam began dying and realized his mistake. Recruiting the help of Pan and some magical water, Liam was cured but soon died in Killian’s arms on the voyage back to the king, the price of the magic being death if Liam ever left Neverland with the water running through his veins. His brother’s death made Killian vengeful at his king and country as his brother had been noble until the very end and everyone else was corrupt, playing noble, proving to him that the world was at fault. From that day on, he took over the ship and decided to be a pirate named Captain Jones, pursuing freedom, and throwing away all he’s ever known because being noble didn’t serve justice. This starts his life of thievery, promiscuity, and never-ending drinking. His coping solutions to deal with his emotional pain only gets worse when he loses his hand, first love of his life, Milah, and his honor after losing a duel against Rumplestiltskin, a coward turned into a powerful Dark One; which leads him on a path of revenge to kill the Rumplestiltskin, “the crocodile”, to avenge Milah and his pride. This leads him to makeshift a hook for a hand and him going by the nickname of Captain Hook, leaving the last piece of his past behind and never letting himself be vulnerable again.

Throughout the series, whenever he or someone in his vicinity is having a rough time, his solution is to pour out some alcohol and drink his feelings away, acting like an egotistical flirt rather than expressing himself and wallowing in misery. His choice of alcohol happens to be rum, a hard liquor. The acute symptoms he has in the show are the loss of judgment, a reddened face, confusion, potentially heightened sexual desire, and sometimes blackouts/unconsciousness. There are multiple times where he’s in a tavern, pouring doubloons into drinks for his crew, rum for himself, and flirting with women/barmaids to have a nightcap with. From here on, I will refer to him as Hook unless stated otherwise. On one occasion of his usual proclivities displaying or implying such symptoms, Hook tries to seduce a woman named Emma. She manages to use his habit of drinking to her advantage, making him jolly and willing to take her back to his ship for the said nightcap; her actual objective was being a distraction while his future self did recon for info on how to get back to their timeline in a Back to the Future sort of way. He continues heavily drinking on the way back with Emma without a care for his health. As soon as the plan goes awry with Hook seeing double, Emma not realizing Future Hook was still doing recon, he gets knocked out for good measure and partial jealousy. Future Hook justifies this, saying his past self was “asking to be knocked out, will wake up upset, and blame the rum.” The lines construe how frequent the drinking was for his future self to determine Hook’s ill-mannered disposition while drunk.

Eventually, in a parallel way that stems from drunk Hook, is a feeble and spent pirate coined as “Wish Hook”. I have and will be focusing on this iteration for the whole of the paper, but what was written before was his younger self’s background. Wish Hook is the same guy as Hook, but years older down the line, differing paths from Future Hook as he never found love again with someone like Emma and had let his grief and alcohol from more recent negative events consume him. Wish Hook had lived out most of his lifespan, having been a sober father, but cursed to be poisoned any time he drew near his daughter after a witch encounter. Haunted by his regrets and somber circumstances, he turned back to an alcoholic, spending his days eased by rum. His body and actions in this form show the physical and mental effects of chronic alcohol consumption. About ten years or less had passed between his younger self and he had become an experienced middle-aged man with a complicated history, yet he looked far older than his years and decrepit. Without a doubt, by looking at him, people could assume he was an old drunk, his liver and heart having gotten fatty and overworked from the alcohol catching up to him. His belly was rotund, his hair disheveled and gray with streaks of white, his stance crumbling to nearly falling over with each step, and clothes dirtied with filth and old rum stains. Wish Hook still had a flirty and dramatic personality to cheer himself up and mask his turmoil, rum making him courageous and numb, while his actions told another story. He didn’t have sexual desires or try to provoke anyone by that point, just wanted to drown himself in alcohol. His words typically came out slurred, his movements sluggish and unrefined, and he had low problem-solving skills when it came to formulating a plan based on anything other than motive.

In the Enchanted Forest, alcohol like rum is not hard to come by as long as money is involved. Killian Jones/Captain Hook as a pirate drinking rum all the time did not affect him negatively socially or career-wise. If anything, it boosted his status and reputation. For him to be mingling in bars asking for expensive hard liquor and fine women to spend time with was a pleasantry. Bar owners got money, the crew got free alcohol, the women got paid, and he got to immerse himself in pleasure rather than thinking about trivial or serious things. Hook was the life of the party as a pirate captain, seen as a person with good tastes and great to have a fun time with when it came to alcohol. However, when it came to settling down and being a father later on in his life, Wish Hook reserved himself back to his more vulnerable side, caring about how his alcoholism could affect his parenting or child’s perspective. There are moments like that where he’s introspective and wants to do better by others that look up to him or who he cares about. In the show, when he is parenting, there is never a time where he has a bottle or flask of rum stashed nearby or is drinking. Wish Hook deems alcohol as the problem when it affects his judgment or his perceptions on how he could hurt the way people he loves view him. Love in any form brings him back to his core of being the best person he can be.

Killian Jones’s problem originates in nurture rather than nature because his alcohol problems started after he needed a reliable coping mechanism to lean on to deal with grief and anger. Although both nature and nurture influence him, for argument’s sake, nurture has the upper hand. Growing up, his father was a person he looked up to and wanted to be like, but that changed when he found out his father was a criminal who sold him and Liam to pay a route for a selfish escape. What little of his parents shown on-screen left betrayal or sadness in him, not the desire to drink. His parents weren’t clear on alcoholics or drug users as far as it goes. The only things he inherited from nature were probably his mischievous personality, temper, looks, and a high tolerance for alcohol. Living on a ship and being a poor deckhand, Killian didn’t seem to be the kind of guy to squander his savings on alcohol or other frivolous means. However, he would be on a ship constantly surrounded by adults who drank with a captain who cared more about money rather than morals, feeling squandered by his oppressed freedom and building resentment for authority. Without his brother steering him on track, Killian was no more than a young man with impulsive rebellious nature. When Liam went to get them navy papers to earn them their freedom from Captain Silver, it took Killian an offer of temptations from Silver, as much alcohol as he could drink and a bet on his money, for him to fall hook, line, and sinker; no pun intended. Alcohol and gambling meant a reprieve from thoughts, a chance at earning more than what he had before, and the same social standing as the other men aboard the ship. Perhaps, as much as he wanted to be strong as his brother, one good force cannot shield against all of the negative parts of society and adulthood. From Captain Silver, Killian got his first taste of alcohol and his desires did the rest, leaving him blackout drunk and penniless for Liam to find. As he grew older and slowly became Captain Hook, there was nothing about pirate life, being an adult, or people to keep him from drinking. He needed people to talk to, who supported him and he could feel vulnerable in front of, but the few people he trusted in his life were dead. As anyone knows, pirates steal treasure, so they’re not exactly the forgiving or down-to-earth types. Instead, rum became the solution to drown or fuel his emotions, being the substance of celebration and de-stressor.

Hook’s rum/alcohol addiction would fall more on the dependence spectrum rather than abuse. What had started as a small reprieve to the woes of life became a daily saving grace when he was wracked with loneliness or anger. He depended on the rum to mask his disposition of physical pain from his missing limb as well as emotional pain having experienced love and loss. Abusing alcohol meant that it would put him into dangerous scenarios, have little to no commitment to change his habits to improve his health, and he’d put off important social aspects. If it was alcohol abuse, Hook wouldn’t try changing his habits when he sees it affects others or his relationship with those he loves. Sure, he spends most of his life binge drinking and making merry with the tides of life, but when given the chance and support to abstain from alcohol, he takes it in a heartbeat. For Wish Hook, the thought of being a father who abandons his child or messes up under hazy judgment didn’t add up to him. With the birth of his daughter, Alice, he made a vow to stay with her as long as he could and to be the person he thought she could be proud of. Nevertheless, when he had lost purpose in life by something he had no control over (via death, distance, or curse), his first reaction was to either turn back to alcohol or solve his problems. Sadly, after he had spent a couple of years looking for a cure for his poison heart curse, he gave up hope and chose to go from sobriety back to alcoholism, into a form of regrettable self-destruction. Hook knew that it was not the way to go about life but he felt he had no other choice and had nothing left to lose, leading him to further prioritize and depend on rum to continue living. He built a tolerance to it, needing a copious amount to get drunk, and potentially suffering withdrawals from it after getting in too deep. From the state he was in by the time he gets old and portly, being a nearly homeless drunkard, it can be assumed that he spent most of his days looking for money to acquire more alcohol so he could feel okay.

Finally, by the end of the series, Killian Jones had managed to go through all the stages in the Stages of Change Model. He was in the Precontemplation stage as a pirate and Captain Hook as he didn’t see a problem in his daily rum and alcohol festivities, making no commitment to change his ways. By the time he gets to be Wish Hook and becomes a father, hesitant about settling down, he could be in the Contemplation stage. He’d want to do something about his alcohol problem and not be stuck relying on it but doesn’t know how to go about it or why he should, therefore staying stagnant to change. When he has his daughter, Alice, in his arms for the first time, we see him in the Preparation stage, planning to give up his ship, sea life, status, and most importantly, rum. Hook gives himself time to think of why he would do so and how he’d commit to it, eventually telling his crew the news. By the time he is taking care of her, he has already taken the actions needed to wean himself off alcohol and apply himself towards abstinence, taking him through the Action and Maintenance stages. There is a relapse back to the Contemplation stage in the paragraph before when he becomes poisoned and loses hope. Even so, the silver lining is that he had made the hard journey back into the Maintenance stage with the help of Ariel detoxing him and others giving him a magical second chance of bodily time renewal, sparking the hope to reunite with Alice and find a cure for his poisoned heart.

Plans go awry on this end as we get to his final iteration as he is teleported and cursed into our modern day and age as Detective Rogers. Although his memories of what happened in the past as this persona are fuzzy, he is shown to stick to his renewed alcohol abstinence and maintains that in many ways, just like when he was Wish Hook. His habits become integrated as a function rather than a hindrance as part of the Maintenance stage. As Rogers, we can see him frequent bars such as Roni’s or Flynn’s Barcade when he is invited out with others. He is shown to let others know what to get him, as a regular or not, something non-alcoholic. This usually shows up as sparkling water or regular water with a lemon slice in it. His friends and work partner continue to support his sobriety through friendly acceptance and never forcing him to drink alcohol along with them. Rogers is tempted by alcohol again when he believes a missing girl from a cold case, one he was responsible for since he was drinking on the night she went missing, is dead. He sits on a park bench alone grieving, a full bottle of rum next to him, ready to drink. As Rogers gives it a whiff, he is disgusted at himself for getting back to this state again and slams the bottle down on the bench in frustration, not even having taken a sip. He came too far that doing so again would be meaningless and would get him nowhere. Even though he is in situations full of temptation, he makes huge strides to not relapse and maintain his sobriety, with the hopes that it will eventually lead him back on the right path of happiness and belonging. Fortunately, his actions have positive consequences that ring true when the curse breaks and he gets reunited with his daughter and has the strong support of friends and family. In conclusion, Hook is a flawed human being that is more complex and his struggle with alcohol/rum is just a part of him, one he will never lose but continues living with.

#killian jones #captain hook #wish hook #detective rogers #killian jones meta #alcoholism #alcohol #stages of change #character study #ouat s7 #liam jones #slight emma swan mention

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aquaquadrant · 3 years ago

Text

the little things

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

~*~

Ben’s been reunited with the other campers, and seems to have come out the other end of his experience stronger than ever before. But as he slowly finds his place back within the group, a bigger picture starts to emerge, piece by piece.

Rated T for: mental illness, mild language, panic attacks, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, eating disorder (not in a traditional sense, but definitely not a healthy relationship with food)

A/N: Hey Camp Cretaceous fandom, y’all mind if I uhhhh write six-thousand words about Ben’s trauma?? Basically, Netflix kept recommending the show to me so I watched the first ep out of curiosity and then ended up binging the whole thing in like two days, and now here I am.

(Dear sweet, patient, regular readers of mine: I’m so sorry my main fic’s been delayed but I promise it’s getting updated next week, I just had to get some feelings out about Sad Dino Boy)

Hope you enjoy, please reblog and leave a comment if you do! - Aqua

Click here to read on A03 (with more complete tags)

~*~

the little things

~*~

Ben Pincus has returned from the dead, and he’s never been better.

The other campers are amazed. What he’s been through must have been horrible. He thought he was the only one left, that there was no one to help him and no hope of rescue because he was presumed dead. It would’ve been enough to drive anyone into despair, or off of the deep end.

But Ben shows no signs of this.

They didn’t find him holed up somewhere, near starvation and waiting to die, like one might’ve expected. They didn’t find him at all, really. He found them, and by coming to their rescue, no less. And when he did, he wasn’t a trembling mess, he wasn’t a half-mad ball of paranoia, and he wasn’t a hollow-eyed skeleton fueled solely by desperation.

He’s an all new and improved Ben, the best version of himself.

He hasn’t just survived, he’s flourished. He’s brave, he’s confident, he’s capable. He gives his opinions freely and without second-guessing himself, suggesting things the old Ben would’ve recoiled at. He fits seamlessly into the team like he never left. He faces problems head-on with determination and grit and not a trace of fear.

The turnaround is unbelievable. But even more important is that while he’s a new and improved Ben, he’s retained all the best parts of his old self.

Ben is easy smiles and meticulous organization of a leather waist bag and doting affection for a four-ton armored lizard. He’s sensitive and soft-spoken and accepts hugs from his friends gratefully. He still can’t quite pull off coolness, with a voice that sounds as gangly as his limbs look and an awkwardness he hasn’t grown out of.

And it’s perhaps because of this that no one thinks to look closer. This image is an easy thing to accept because it’s what they all want to believe, that Ben is okay- in fact, better than okay. But the truth is not always big and obvious upon first glance.

It’s the little things, as they soon find out.

~*~

That first evening after Ben’s return, after Mitch and Tiff and everything else, they don’t eat dinner.

They all ate their fill at the campsite and, after a month of scarcity, it was more than enough to sate their appetites. It’s Darius who thinks to ask Ben if he’s hungry, remembering that the boy hadn’t had the chance to eat with them. They have a good stockpile of food at the moment and he figures Ben must’ve been struggling.

But Ben shakes his head with an easy smile, and says, “Nah, I ate earlier.”

Darius leaves it at that, because there’s still so much catching up to do. They show Ben around their clubhouse, make plans for where to build a bunk for him (he insists he’d be just fine sleeping on the ground next to Bumpy, but they all veto that immediately). They talk well into the night about the day’s crazy events, filling each other in on their own sides of the story, and everything that’s happened since Ben got separated.

There are some more tears, some more hugs. But ultimately, the mood in the clubhouse is ecstatic. They never thought Ben had survived the fall so to have him back is better than a dream come true, it’s a miracle.

Darius thought he knew what it was to experience a miracle when they first saw that bonfire smoke on the horizon. But if he had to chose between the miracle of them finally leaving the island or the miracle of getting Ben back, it’s not even a competition.

Eventually the exhaustion catches up with everyone, and they turn in for the night. Bumpy parks herself underneath the clubhouse, her presence incredibly reassuring. Ben ends up sharing Kenji’s bunk because it’s bigger than Darius’s even when occupied by two, and the older teen had insisted in a very faux-casual way, to which Ben had rolled his eyes but nonetheless seemed touched by the gesture.

Darius takes the first night watch shift and gets to see all his friends sleeping peacefully. And even though Tiff sailed away with their only means for escaping, he feels a lot more hopeful than he has in a long time.

~*~

It’s canned peaches for breakfast.

A far cry from yesterday’s buffet. But no one’s complaining because the meticulous rationing of their food, courtesy of Darius, means they’re all starving by meal time and couldn’t care less what it tastes like. Darius is in the process of separating the food out into bowls, half a can for each of them, when he realizes Ben has yet to take a seat. He’s lingering at the edge of the room, watching.

“Hey,” Darius calls, “you coming or what?”

Ben shakes his head. “Thanks, but I already got my own breakfast.”

Before Darius can respond, Brooklynn shoots Ben a look. “What? Where?” she demands. “You holding out on us, jungle boy?”

Darius shoots her a look, but Ben just gives an easy smile and unzips the leather pouch that’s reclaimed its spot around his waist. He withdraws a small handful of bright red berries, no bigger than blueberries. It’s not even a fraction of the half-can of peaches the rest of them are settling for, and Darius sees his own unease reflected in the others’ eyes.

Brooklynn glances away. “Oh. Um, sorry. You don’t… you can have some of ours, you know?”

“I’m good.” Ben tosses a couple berries into his mouth. “You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go check on Bumpy.”

“O- oh, okay…” Sammy murmurs, watching Ben go with uncertain eyes. “If you’re sure…”

They’re silent for a moment.

Kenji inhales quietly through his teeth. “So… that’s weird, right?”

Yaz leans forward in her seat. “What do you think, Darius?” she asks lowly.

Darius bites his lip. Even though dinosaurs are his specific topic of interest, he’s gained a lot of second-hand knowledge about general biology and psychology. After all, he has to understand the processes behind behavior in order to identify patterns and deviations.

And right now, he has to admit that Ben is displaying a very concerning behavior.

“I’ll talk to him,” Darius decides.

There’s a collective sigh of relief around the table, and the others start eating. It takes Darius longer than usual to finish his serving.

~*~

“So, uh, bottom line is… you don’t need to feel bad about eating our food. You’re as much a part of this group as anyone else, and we’re happy to share.”

After a couple tense days, Darius is finally talking to Ben about the food situation. Or rather, talking at him. Because Ben’s not looking at Darius- his eyes are tracking the small spider that’s crawling along the railing next to them. Normally, Darius would take it as a sign of boredom and inattentiveness. But there’s an intensity in Ben’s eye that’s a little unsettling-

Quick as a flash, Ben shoots out an arm. He crushes the spider under his thumb and swipes it into his mouth. And then, untroubled as can be, he returns his focus to Darius as if nothing had happened.

Darius has overheard Kenji teasing Ben about eating bugs, and Ben has admitted as much in the stories of his time alone. Berries and grubs were what he lived on. Darius, for one, can’t imagine being hungry and desperate enough to snatch a bug off the ground and eat it.

But it’s even harder to imagine having access to real food, good food, and still choosing to eat bugs.

“Don’t worry so much,” Ben says lightly, patting Darius on the shoulder as he turns to go. “I can take care of myself.”

That does it. “You can’t keep living off berries and grubs!” Darius finally snaps.

Ben whirls around. “Says who?”

“Basic human biology!” Darius retorts.

Ben glares at him, but there’s something shaky behind it. “Darius, I told you it’s fine,” he says evenly, though he doesn’t fully meet Darius’s gaze. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Please? If I’m hungry, I’ll eat.”

Darius hesitates. “You promise?”

Ben breaks into an easy smile. “I promise.”

Darius sighs. It’ll have to be good enough, for now.

“Okay.”

~*~

Darius knows he isn’t the only one still concerned by Ben’s lack of appetite.

Right from the start, Ben was the scrawniest one among them, and it’s only gotten worse. But surely he’ll have to eat at some point, right? Basic survival instincts will win out over whatever stubborn mindset is holding him back. Plus, it’s clear that he’s got enough energy to run and climb and stuff with no problem.

Maybe it’s not as serious as Darius thinks. Maybe Ben just needs time.

~*~

Ben doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He just- he can’t take their food! Why don’t they get that?

And it’s not because he’s stubborn, it’s not- no matter what Darius thinks. There’s nothing wrong with letting others help you (as long as you don’t let it make you soft, of course). After all, he relies on Bumpy. He just… when he looks at the food, and imagines eating it, he just knows it’ll sit in his stomach. Like a rock, weighing him down.

Plus, plus, if he gets used to eating like that, it’ll just- it’ll be harder to cope once it runs out. He’s already gotten used to roughing it and it was hard enough the first time, he can’t let himself slip back into complacency. And- and really, how long do they think it’s going to last? They’ve searched all the previously inhabited areas of the island and there’s no more food for them to scavenge.

Do they think they’ll be rescued before it runs out? No one is coming to save them. They know it as much as Ben does- they wouldn’t be bothering with rafts if they didn’t. Do they think they’ll escape, then? Sure, because their current attempts have been going so well.

No, they just aren’t thinking long term. Ben is.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

~*~

It’s the sixth day in a row where Ben eats nothing but berries.

He wants to search around some more, see if there’s anything more substantial. That would require him to leave Bumpy, though. And he can’t leave Bumpy. But the hunger is excruciating. It gnaws at him every waking moment, keeps him up at night. He’s never felt such hunger in his life, not even close. He can’t keep going like this, can he?

But there’s nothing else.

Except… something’s crawling up his arm. Something small, and leggy. Ben turns his head, squinting to focus his eyes in the dark. It’s some kind of beetle, with a shiny shell that catches stray shafts of moonlight poking through the roof of his lean-to.

Ben stares at it for a moment. Then, before he can think, he snatches it up and pops it into his mouth. He barely registers any taste, mostly just the crunchy texture. And even though it wasn’t any bigger than a quarter, after he swallows, he feels… fuller. Even if it’s purely imagined, it’s a comfort.

Berries and grubs. It’ll have to be enough.

There’s nothing else.

~*~

Ben continues to decline their offers of food.

~*~

A few weeks after the reunion, Kenji is starting to get antsy.

As the self-designated ‘pro-fun police’ (a clever play on ‘no-fun police,’ if Kenji does say so himself), he’s made it his responsibility to make sure none of his friends just keel over and die from stress one day. That means it’s his job- no, his duty- to lighten the mood with copious amounts of joking, goofing off, and, of course, pranking.

Jumping out to scare his friends while they’re trapped on a dino-infested island might, on paper, sound like a bad idea. But it keeps everyone on their toes, and the relief of realizing they aren’t facing a dino attack, just Kenji pulling a prank, helps keep any real anger at bay. It’s typically an exasperated annoyance, which Kenji will gladly take. His main targets are Brooklynn and Darius, because he can’t fathom doing that to Sammy, and Yaz is- while perhaps in the most need of lightening up- super freaking scary.

But now that Ben’s back, Kenji knows what he has to do.

Before, back when they were just campers and not survivors, Ben was easily the most frightened of them. The kid was scared of dirt. And his over-the-top hysterics always managed to, somehow, put everyone else at ease. Because if Ben was scared of something, that didn’t really mean anything. Again; scared of dirt.

(Now, if Yaz is scared of something, that’s a different story).

Since Ben’s, uh… departure, they’ve been sorely lacking that energy in the group. Kenji would wager he’s not the only one who misses it. He used to have so much fun riling Ben up with just a couple words (none of the others are so easily baited). And whenever Ben would freak out and instantly cling to him, like some kind of scrawny spider monkey, it made Kenji feel… capable, in a way.

Like, if Ben was trusting Kenji to protect him, maybe he wasn’t so useless after all (which was becoming an all too frequent feeling as the others continued to adapt and grow, leaving Kenji struggling to keep up).

Problem is, Ben’s really hard to scare now.

It’s not always obvious, like when he’s bragging about taking down Toro or itching to blow things up. Sometimes it’s the little things. Whenever they’re out in a group, foraging or gathering supplies, and there’s a sound in the distance that makes them all freeze, Ben’s frozen in readiness, not fear. He looks more like Yaz, tense and waiting with his fists up and eyes narrowed.

Sometimes, when they aren’t occupied by any particular task or imminent threat, and have the chance to enjoy some downtime, Ben drifts off to the side and just… watches, all tense, silent, and anxious. He’ll watch the tree line, or Bumpy on the ground below, or even just the rest of them as they go about their business. Kenji is sure he’s not the only one who’s noticed but none of them bring it up.

It’s… unsettling, seeing Ben like this. Kenji figured he just needed a couple weeks to fall back into the rhythm of the group, to see that he didn’t have to be this loner Rambo type of guy anymore. But even though he talks with them easy enough, seems to enjoy their company, and has a good handle on teamwork, it’s like there’s a part of him that can’t fully shake that mentality.

At least, not without help.

~*~

Kenji’s plan is- in his humble opinion- pretty dang brilliant.

He waits for a time when it’s just him and Ben in the main level of the clubhouse (Yaz is running laps around their perimeter, Darius is in his bunk writing in his nerd book, Brooklynn and Sammy are upstairs going over inventory) and then announces he’s going for a shower. His daily showers are common knowledge at this point, so Ben just nods in acknowledgement and goes back to leaning against the railing, watching Bumpy graze down below in that tense-silent-anxious way of his.

Kenji sets up the shower and lets it run (he’ll go down to the river later and get more water to make up for the waste, because even though he tries to avoid manual labor whenever possible, it’s totally worth it in this case). And then, being more careful and silent than he’s ever been (except maybe in cases where he’s being hunted by dinos), he slowly creeps up behind Ben before leaping forward with a shriek, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Ben doesn’t just jump and scream. He jumps, screams, then spins around and swings a fist into Kenji’s jaw in one smooth motion.

Kenji’s laughing even as he staggers back, his jaw stinging (because at the end of the day, even though Ben’s kind of a badass now, he’s still Ben and his arms are pretty much chicken wings so there’s no real harm done, just a bruise at most). Plus that’s a valid reaction, considering everything, and he can’t say he didn’t deserve it.

“Oh man, I totally got you!” Kenji says anyways, to rub it in. “You should see your… face...”

And Kenji trails off because now he’s seeing Ben’s face.

What Kenji expected is this:

Once Ben realized it was just him pulling a prank, he would get mad. In that totally non-threatening dorky Ben way, where he scrunches his nose and puffs out his cheeks, his little fists clenched at his side like an irate toddler. Maybe he’d stomp off but it’d be worth it because being mad is better than being tense-silent-anxious and it’d give him the chance to be annoyed with Kenji. And maybe Ben being annoyed with Kenji would help everything feel a little more normal, a little more like before.

What Kenji gets is this:

Once Ben realizes it was just him pulling a prank, he doesn’t get mad. He starts shaking. Violently, uncontrollably. Like he’s suddenly come down with hypothermia despite being in a tropical jungle, staring at Kenji all the while and not saying a word. His chest rises and falls rapidly in little panicky breaths and the kind of fear in his eyes isn’t the kind that’s funny. It’s glassy-eyed with shrunken pupils that dart around Kenji’s face, frightened and searching, as if he isn’t fully seeing it.

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

Kenji hasn’t heard Ben’s voice sound that small since before, and it doesn’t feel like a victory.

By now, of course, the others have noticed the commotion and it doesn’t take more than a second for them to piece together what happened. Yaz rounds on Kenji with a furious snarl and whisper-screams a lecture about how stupid and irresponsible he is. Darius is immediately trying to mediate the situation while Sammy frantically asks Ben if he’s okay, to which he doesn’t respond. Brooklynn steps in, citing an unboxing video about dealing with shock, and when she goes to put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, he lets her.

And now Kenji realizes where he miscalculated. Ben never showed discomfort with physical contact before because he’d never been surprised by it before (because Ben has gotten scary good at being alert, always keeping an eye and an ear out on his surroundings even in the middle of a conversation). And when it came to his friends, it wasn’t unexpected for Sammy to rush in with a hug or Darius to pat his shoulder or Brooklynn to playfully knock elbows.

But Kenji snuck up on him, so Ben’s first thought wasn’t that it was a friend. It was that he was going to have to run for his life, like he has countless times since being stranded on this island.

Kenji apologizes over and over again as Darius gently leads him away by the elbow and Brooklynn talks to Ben in low tones while Sammy squeezes his hand and Yaz takes up a lookout position because they can’t afford for all of them to be distracted even though she occasionally cuts a glare at Kenji out of the corner of her eye so it’s really debatable how vigilant she’s actually being.

Throughout it all, Ben doesn’t get mad, but he doesn’t stop shaking.

~*~

Darius explains it, later.

“The sudden fear reaction signaled a bunch of adrenaline to be released into his bloodstream, to give him the energy needed for running. And then, when he didn’t, there was nowhere for that energy to go. It’s like, even though his mind knew there wasn’t any danger, his body wasn’t convinced.” Then, a sympathetic look. “You didn’t know, man.”

Kenji only nods. But knowing doesn’t make it better because even though Ben’s stopped shaking he doesn’t turn his back on Kenji anymore and somehow that’s a million times worse than if he’d gotten mad.

~*~

There are claws wrapped around Ben’s shoulders and shrieks in his ears.

Wind whips his face and his stomach lurches as he’s carried through the air, weightless, at the mercy of the Pteranodon. He’s never felt so small and utterly helpless before, not once in his life. Even his screams aren’t big enough to carry, snatched away by the wind and deafened by the roars of the terror-birds fighting over the right to tear him limb from limb.

And then he’s falling and has other things to worry about.

~*~

Ben stops sharing Kenji’s bunk.

~*~

In a rare moment of downtime, Yasmina is curled up with Darius’s field guide, adding a few more illustrations, when she feels Ben staring at her.

It’s not the first time she’s felt him staring at her. It is the first time, however, that she decides to stare back.

She means it to be playful, at first. She meets his eyes, one brow quirked as if to say, ‘What, is there something on my face?’ But instead of glancing away in sheepish embarrassment or jolting out of a daze, Ben just stares back. There’s no emotion in his expression at all except intense focus.

The faint smile drops from Yasmina’s face as she stares back in surprise. Then, with ever-growing confusion and a fair amount of alarm, she realizes that Ben’s shoulders are rising, tense and hunched like he’s trying to make himself look bigger.

Like an animal.

Yasmina knows what it is to stare down a wild animal. She’s felt predatory eyes on her before and either bolted or turned to face the challenge. And that’s what it is, for some of the dinos- a challenge. Sometimes they’re testing your mettle, and standing your ground is enough to make them back off.

Ben must’ve learned that, too. And for whatever reason, he’s slipping into that behavior now.

It’s a ridiculous thought. This is Ben, her friend. Her very scrawny friend who can’t weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet, and prefers a diet of berries and grubs. And yet, here he is, staring her down like she’s a particularly bold pack of Compies that’s decided to threaten him.

Yasmina gives a slow, deliberate blink. “Ben?” she calls. “What’s up?”

Just like that, the spell is broken. Ben gives a violent start, blinking and shaking his head. Yasmina sees confusion flash across his face, and then realization. And now the embarrassment comes, but it’s darkened by something like horror.

Without a word, Ben turns and darts away, scrambling down the ladder to the alcove underneath the house where Bumpy’s napping.

Yasmina lets him go, too baffled and unsettled to form words.

~*~

Eventually, Yasmina tells Darius about it.

His expression is troubled as she runs through the incident. But in the end, there’s nothing more he can tell her than what she’s already worked out on her own. It’s just another side effect of the mindset Ben has adopted throughout his isolation. Those habits were what he relied on to survive, and it’ll take time for him to realize he doesn’t have to constantly be on edge now that he’s got a team to look out for him.

Though privately, Yasmina wonders if maybe the rest of them should take a page out of Ben’s book. Seems like he’s got a better handle on survival than they do.

(And then she thinks how Sammy would react, if Yasmina started acting like a wary animal around her, and she realizes Ben’s methods come with a price.)

~*~

After Ben runs the Compies off for the first time, staring becomes a defense tactic.

It’s not always the Compies, who are slowly but surely learning not to mess with him. Sometimes it’s the Parasaurolophus in the river, or the lone Pteranodon perched in a tree, or the group of Edmontosauruses grazing on the hilltop. As soon as he feels their eyes on him, he knows his best chance is to stare back, to show that he’s willing to put up a fight, that chasing him wouldn’t be worth it.

Obviously, there are some dinosaurs that doesn’t work on. But if Ben can drastically cut down the amount of time spent running for his life by standing his ground, then he’ll take it.

All he has to do is not back down.

~*~

Ben avoids Yasmina for the next few days.

~*~

Brooklynn wakes up in the middle of the night with an unshakeable feeling that something is wrong.

Her bad feeling is confirmed when she gets a look at the moon. Based on its position in the sky, she should’ve been woken up by Ben to take her night watch shift at least an hour ago. This practice, established by Darius months ago who insisted they should always have at least one person awake, has already become routine within the group. Brooklynn couldn’t sleep fully through the night if she tried.

Ben’s only just recently become a part of the routine. Immediately after his return, Darius thought it best just to let Ben settle in and get as much rest as he could, now that he had the security to do so, and everyone agreed. Ben had insisted he didn’t mind, but Darius stood firm, so it’s only been within the last few days that Ben took part.

But this is the first time he hasn’t woken Brooklynn up and her heart is in her throat as she rushes to the lookout point-

Only to find Ben sitting right where he’s supposed to be, looking out over their compound as a small candle burns next to him.

As soon as Brooklynn’s relief passes, it’s replaced with anger. “What are you doing?” she whispers furiously.

Ben, not at all surprised by her presence, gives her a sidelong look. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You were supposed to wake me up, so I could do night watch.” Brooklynn struggles to keep her voice low, so as not to alert the others. “What gives?”

Ben shrugs. “I knew I wasn’t gonna sleep tonight, so I figured I’d just take the whole watch myself.”

“That’s not how this works,” Brooklynn hisses, crossing her arms. “Even if you can’t fall asleep- and I’ve totally been there- you have to lay down and close your eyes and rest. You need to rest.”

Ben breaks into an easy smile, but Brooklynn can see the annoyed creases at his eyes. “Hey, it’s fine. I can-”

“Take care of yourself, I know,” Brooklynn interrupts, hating how frustrated she sounds but unable to help it. “But you don’t have to. We’re a team. We can take care of you too, alright?”

Ben stares at her for a moment. “I know that,” he says, sounding uncertain.

Brooklynn softens. When she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, he lets her. “Then… why?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admits. The muscles beneath Brooklynn’s hand are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. “I don’t know.”

They finish the night watch together.

~*~

Brooklynn almost hates to bring it up to Darius.

Dude’s stressing almost nonstop about everything, all the time. And it really isn’t fair for him to be responsible for the rest of them, including Ben. But Darius is the only one who seems to have the… what’s it called, emotional intelligence, she supposes, to weigh in on the situation.

(Sammy is a close second, but her brand of caring is a little more touchy-feely, and this doesn’t seem like the right time for that.)

Darius is immediately worried, pointing out that Ben might accidentally fall asleep on watch if he keeps this up (something Brooklynn hadn’t even thought about). He promises to talk to Ben about it, and that’s that.

Brooklynn is only slightly relieved because she knows if Darius had a real fix for the problem, he would’ve said so. And if Darius doesn’t have a fix for it, maybe there isn’t one.

~*~

Those first several nights, Ben doesn’t sleep at all.

And it’s not for lack of trying. But how can he sleep, when it’s pitch black and the jungle is full of unfamiliar sounds and he’s got no one but a baby Ankylosaurus by his side? He soon finds it’s even worse without Bumpy, though, because at least he trusted that Bumpy would wake up if there was any danger, as her senses are more powerful than his.

On his own, there’s no one to wake him up. So he has to stay up, and settle for catching short scattered naps throughout the day (if he can find a tree to hide up in).

It’s hard, but he’d rather be tired than dead.

~*~

Ben is taken off night watch, but still ends up awake more often than not.

~*~

Pyromaniac is a word no one ever expected to become synonymous with Ben, and yet here they are.

It’s one of the first things he always suggests as an answer to a problem; blow something up. Darius has a million reasons for them not to do that; they could get hurt, they could start a wildfire and burn the jungle down, they could attract unwanted attention from predators.

But that doesn’t stop Ben from cataloguing everything on the island that can be used as an explosive, memorizing their locations or creating hidden stashes. It doesn’t stop him from using the candles that came with the scavenged emergency kits. He’ll light them for no reason, just to watch the small flame flicker back and forth.

(Someday, months later, they’ll encounter a horrific hybrid dinosaur that is drawn to flames, and they’ll all think about how unsettling it is that Ben shares this trait, but none of them will say it.)

~*~

It’s been one week since Bumpy left, and Ben is starting a fire.

Just a small one. It rained all day and he’s soaked to the bone, which normally wouldn’t be a huge problem considering the jungle climate. But now that it’s nighttime, there’s a chill in the air and he can’t afford to get sick. It’s risky, because at night he knows the light could draw attention to him, but his teeth are starting to chatter so there’s no helping it.

When a Stegosaurus stumbles upon him, baying low and angry at finding another creature in its territory, it’s the fire that makes it balk. Rumbling displeasure, it retreats back into the dark jungle. Ben quickly adds torches to his arsenal, using the rest of his shirt as tinder.

Fire is safety.

~*~

Ben lights his candles in silence.

~*~

“You can’t just run off like that,” Kenji says, deadly serious.

Ben scoffs. “I think you’re forgetting who defeated Toro,” he says with an easy smile.

“You’re not invincible, Ben!” Kenji snaps. The anger churning inside him is deceptively hollow, like it’s masking something else. “And I can’t lose you again.”

Ben isn’t smiling anymore. “You won’t,” he mutters, pushing past Kenji. “I can take care of myself, now. I don’t need you to play the hero and protect me.”

Kenji wants to protest that’s not what this is about, and that’s never been what this is about, but Ben is already gone.

~*~

Ben still lives off berries and grubs.

~*~

“… and so I was thinking, berries have seeds in them, right? So if we plant some, we’ll have our own berry bushes at the clubhouse. It’ll cut down our foraging time in the mornings for sure, and-”

��Uh, who are you talking to, Ben?”

Ben blinks at Yasmina’s voice, the girl having only just entered the room.

“Um, Bumpy?” he says, as if this should be obvious.

Yasmina glances out at the compound, where Bumpy is fast asleep and well out of earshot.

“… right.”

~*~

Ben can’t sleep, even when he’s actually trying.

~*~

“Alright,” Darius says, “so we need to get the T-Rex out of Main Street so we can do another sweep for supplies. Any ideas?”

Ben’s hand goes up.

“For the hundredth time, Ben, we aren’t going to feed the T-Rex to the Mosasaurus.”

Ben’s hand goes down.

~*~

Ben feels more at home with Bumpy than the other campers.

~*~

“You know we didn’t mean to leave you, right? We would’ve come back for you if we’d known…”

~*~

Ben never talks about getting off the island.

~*~

“You have to tell us where you’re going, Ben, you can’t just disappear-”

~*~

Ben keeps slipping away.

~*~

“Blowing stuff up isn’t the answer to everything!”

~*~

Ben keeps saying he’s okay.

~*~

“We’re a team, we have to work together-”

~*~

Ben keeps smiling.

~*~

“Don’t you trust us to protect you?”

~*~

Ben doesn’t know.

~*~

Sammy finds Ben sitting on the roof of the clubhouse one day.

Her footsteps are loud and obvious as she approaches him. No chance of sneaking up. She knows he’s noticed her, from the subtle shift in his body. He doesn’t acknowledge her, though, continuing to stare off over the jungle and into the horizon, his skinny legs slotted through the railing and dangling over the edge.

The sun’s about to set, a few stars already twinkling in the purple edges of the sky. Sammy can remember another night, months ago, where Ben wasn’t here but everyone else was and they spotted bonfire smoke in the distance. She remembers the way her heart raced, the overwhelming joy and relief flooding through her. And yet, there had been undeniable heartache, because the realization that they’d made it out only meant it was more unfair that Ben hadn’t.

Sammy breaks the silence after a few moments.

“Are you okay?”

Ben doesn’t look at her, but she can see the easy smile that slants across his face, dying sunlight reflected in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Sammy sees the lie for what it is. None of them are okay. No one who’s been through what they have would be. But there’s a certain danger that comes with not being willing to admit it, and an even greater danger that comes with not being able to see it.

“Y’know, it’d be fine if you weren’t.”

Ben doesn’t answer.

Sammy sits with him until the sky turns dark.

~*~

It’s the way he struggles to eat anything he hasn’t obtained by himself.

It’s the way he sometimes goes off on his own without telling anyone.

It’s the way he talks to himself when he thinks no one else is around.

It’s the way he takes any concern for his safety as a personal attack.

It’s the way he leaps at the chance to blow something up.

It’s the way he can stare silently for hours.

It’s the way he smiles a little too easily.

~*~

It’s not jumping at every unexpected movement, or screaming awake from night terrors, or flinching away from the slightest touch. It’s not loud meltdowns or hysterical sobbing or uncontrollable fits of rage.

(Even though those will come, someday, when the island is just a memory.)

It’s the little things, that- once you notice them- keep piling up.

And suddenly, they don’t seem so little anymore.

~*~

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc #jwcc fanfic #my writing

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stonesparrow · 4 years ago

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For the dr.stone x atla crossover I feel that even if Hyoga is or was a soldier in the fire army he wouldn’t have liked the idea of a nations worth of centuries of knowledge pasted down through generations being wiped of the face of the earth.

I just had a thought Hyoga could be a soldier in the fire army but he could also be a master instructor at his own dojo he inherited from his master kinda like master Piandao. He’s still a fire bender though.

Also I think I would be a cute and funny plot twist if he has a daughter who is still young but old enough to help fight and strong enough to thanks her dad training her. I think he’d be the same tough and cold character he is but he’s surprisingly tender, caring, gental, and kind to her in his own way that would just make the characters in the dr.stone universe jaws hit the floor lol.

Ah, you do have a point with Hyoga likely being disappointed that the knowledge of airbending was lost to genocide - all those ancient techniques would probably be really fascinating to him as a martial artist. Though I can also see him buying into the Fire Nation’s imperialist message of “we are the strongest nation, so we should rule over all the weaker nations.”

I like your idea that Hyoga is a fighting instructor, with his values he’d probably be something like Zuko in skillset - he puts a lot of effort into firebending, but also into spearfighting since he deeply respects the nonbender master who taught it to him. At the same time he has no time for people who either don’t take it seriously or are too weak to make a difference.

(More under the cut because this got long)

Him having a kid is an interesting plot twist and while it’s more twisty than I’d expect, I’m kind of intrigued by the potential it has. Though that also brings up the question of who the kid’s mom is, and when the kid was born (I estimate Hyoga’s age in DCST to be around 20-22). Homura maybe? Like...perhaps Hyoga and Homura were both fairly high class and had an arranged marriage, but while Homura fell in love with him as they grew up together Hyoga only respected her as a friend and fellow fighter.

And then if they had a daughter (maybe pressured by both their parents to produce an heir of some sort) it could make them both more complex characters. If the kid was really strong though I’d lean more towards an Ozai-Azula like dynamic with Hyoga impressing his values of “only the strong and skilled deserve to live,” onto her. Plus if we’re keeping relative canon ages then I’d estimate Homura to be 20, Hyoga to be 22, and their daughter to be 2 by the time Team Avatar shows up in the Fire Nation to do their thing.

However...I can see some potential with the kid turning out physically weak, and that throwing Hyoga’s values into wack.

Let’s say the toddler was born healthy and strong and an assessment by some Fire Sages said that she’d become an extremely powerful bender - this pleases Hyoga, since he can’t imagine having fathered a weak child with him and Homura’s combined firebending ability. And indeed, by the time the kid is two she shows signs of firebending power well beyond her age group, with Hyoga planning to train her into an extraordinarily strong warrior.

Except with such a strong fire at such a young age, the little girl suddenly falls terribly ill, having raging fevers and struggling to breathe. Hyoga’s ideals would tell him that such an ill child will die, and that’s that, the weak and ill perish while the strong survive. But he finds himself insisting that the kid will survive, because she’s strong, she has to survive. She’ll recover and become the strongest firebender this side of the Nation, not die a weakling.

Some time later, the Gaang shows up to Hyoga’s town to resupply. Pre-Zuko joining but maybe somewhere between meeting Piandao and encountering Combustion Man? Aang decides to visit the local firebending dojo (rip Sokka’s nerves) because hey, he wants to see some firebending techniques from actual benders, and he can tooooootally handle staying low key this time, honest! He encounters Hyoga and gets a fair bit intimidated by him, though Hyoga seems to approve of “Kuzon’s” highly adaptive martial arts style.

At some point, a messenger comes and Hyoga slips away. Being nosy, Aang follows them and catches enough of the conversation to determine that there’s a sick kid living in that fancy mansion, and relays his concerns to the Gaang. Katara immediately wants to investigate further - Sokka is again very stressed but understands that he can’t stop his sister once she’s made a decision (plus this is post Painted Lady and Katara is even more determined not to let children suffer if she can do anything about it). But when she tries the front entrance, the guards won’t let her in, even when she says she’s a healer. In fact, they deny that there’s a sick child at all, while Aang insists he didn’t hear wrong.

So Aang and Katara, ever the problem solvers, break into the mansion (airbending is super useful!) and find the kid’s bedroom. Katara assesses the patient - she determines that even with her waterbending, the kid will likely suffer from complications her whole life due to the damage she’s already sustained. Hyoga suddenly appears, asking them how they got into his house (he’s actually very curious, since they seemed to enter silently and without alerting anyone). When Katara excuses herself and says she’s a healer from the colonies (Aang’s explanation for how Katara has “special healing techniques unlike any other”) and just wanted to help, Hyoga says that he doesn’t need a healer, and that the girl will recover soon. Katara starts to argue and Hyoga starts insinuating that he could easily beat her in combat, when Homura shows up, pleading with Katara to save her daughter.

Hyoga and Homura start arguing, with Homura saying this may be their last chance and Hyoga saying that a true daughter of his would be able to fight off the sickness alone. Homura eventually asks if he’d rather have a dead daughter than a weak one, which makes him go quiet (Aang and Katara are standing there awkwardly watching all of this). Hyoga then calmly says that since they seem to be at a standstill, the reasonable course of action is an Agni Kai (Aang goes pale at this, while Katara doesn’t actually know what that is).

In the courtyard the Gaang watches anxiously as Hyoga and Homura begin their duel, which results in quite a few impressive displays of firebending. Homura however seems to be holding back slightly, more on the run than attacking. At one point Homura gets thrown on her back and nearly burnt, but Katara calls out to her, saying she has to win for the kid. She gets back up and starts attacking Hyoga with renewed resolve, and even Hyoga is surprised.

Hyoga realizes that as loyal as Homura is to him, she really is doing her best to win, even coming at him with direct shots of flame now. And since this is still Hyoga, he respects that deeply - she’s doing things “properly,” even though she doesn’t want to. He even respects that Katara was so dedicated to her role as a healer that she broke into his house just on the mere mention that there was a sick child there.

And in the very bottom of his heart, despite all the talk of strength and weakness and who deserves to live, he has a hard time realizing that he doesn’t want his daughter to die, even if it means she’ll be weak and reliant on others her whole life. This might be a little OOC for canon Hyoga, but hey, it’s an au and maybe if canon Hyoga did have something small and weak to protect, he’d be less of an ass to Senku and company.

So at a key moment in the battle, Hyoga pauses for a split second instead of dodging a blast from Homura and allows himself to be grazed on the chin, reminiscent of his revival scars in canon. It’s not a bad burn, and those watching closely realize that he let her win. Hyoga turns to leave, only saying that Katara will be compensated for her healing services and that they truly did things “properly.”

Katara heals the girl, saying that the fever is gone but her lungs are damaged and she’ll have breathing problems from now on. She’s paid a small sack of gold by a servant that she initially refuses, but takes in the end since it’d probably be good to have extra Fire Nation currency on hand. The Gaang leaves the mansion feeling...a little conflicted about the experience, honestly.

Meanwhile as Homura sits by the girl’s bedside Hyoga appears in the doorway, having treated his burn from the duel. An awkwardly long silence passes before Hyoga says he’s been thinking about the skills that "Kuzon” and “Sapphire” displayed, and that he’s considering buying a home in the colonies so he can learn about those types of skills (since Aang claimed they were from the colonies). He turns to leave, but not before offhandedly saying that the seaside air in the colonies he’s looked at might be good for their daughter’s lungs.

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

Text

Through the Looking Glass Chapter 9: April

AN: I’m getting ahead of the question now and stating that in this world, AOT isn’t an anime (Poor souls). So no, the Reader isn’t going to become omnipotent to Levi’s life/world.

They did not binge this in one day. The first round, for sure they did, but it was a little broken up in spurts. For the sake of brevity, considering this was already going to be a long chapter, I cut out all the flickering back and forth and just focused on their Movie Nights and them watching the show.

It might feel a weird mix of rushed and long, because they’re watching the entirety of Your Lie In April, but I wasn’t going to transcribe the whole show, so there’s a lot of summarizing and cutting things out and highlighting certain pieces, but its still long because there’s a LOT to cover.

Also because of how emotional this chapter is actually going to be, I want to just remind...that Levi is like, mid teens, and hasn’t gone through much of the stuff that adult Levi has been through, so in my mind, that justifies a bit more of a REACTION for some of this stuff. But he’s still Levi, and he’s still going to be reserved and such, just...not as controlled as Adult Levi.

This whole chapter is like one big lead up to the next chapter, funnily enough. XD

Also got to listen to “Constellation” by Far Out feat. Karra on repeat writing this. It felt so fitting!

I’m putting quotes from Your Lie in April in italics with quotes and an indent like this, so its clear that they came from the show. Levi’s thoughts/memories will just be in italics, no indention .

Characters: Levi, Reader

Pairing: (Eventual Levi x Reader)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR “YOUR LIE IN APRIL”, Angst, FEELINGS, Language

Word Count: 10994

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

At long last, Y/N was finally going to show him those movie, show things she kept talking about. He knew plays and acting and putting on an act, but the concept of a show that was saved so you could watch it whenever you wanted without having to make people do it over and over was novel to him.

Boisterously proclaiming that it was going to be a “Movie Night” day, she’d grabbed his hand and dragged him after her like she’d used to do when they were young, despite his protests. To be fair, he didn’t try too hard to wiggle away, either, letting her pull him along to the living room as she fussed and tried to decide what they were going to watch.

After all of her attempts to explain what a movie or TV show was, she decided that the best way to explain it to him was just to show him, though she still had to stop and explain the type of show they were watching.

“Okay, so what I’m showing you right now, is actually called an anime. It’s a type of animation from a country called Japan, and it’s made from computers or hand drawn. They draw the story, picture by picture, and put it together to make the characters and such move, with actors doing their voices and recording it in time with the pictures, sound effects like bells and wind also being saved, background music, so on and so forth,” she explained as she cut up pieces of paper and layered them on top of each other, pulling out a pencil and drawing a circle on each page, moving its position slightly each time. “See, if you do it frame by frame, and then move it really fast, it's like the ball is bouncing--animation, and anime, works off the same concept, except they’re drawing everything,” she continued to explain, grabbing the bottom page and then letting the papers rapidly spring free, causing Levi to see the ball she drew appear to move along the page, even though he knew it was a bunch of individual drawings going by rapidly.

“They draw a solid background that doesn’t move, and then they add another layer on top that you can see through like glass, but they draw the moving parts on that layer, so it looks like they’re in the solid background and they’re walking and whatnot. It’s really cool--makes me wish I could draw,” she continued, putting aside the papers she’d used for her demonstration and picking up the controller so she could get them started, gesturing for Levi to take a seat on the couch. “I haven’t seen this one yet, but a friend recommended I watch it cause I love music, and I play the piano, and she said it was a really good coming of age story. I’m a little wary cause she said she wanted my reaction to the end, but she usually suggests stuff I love, so I’m gonna trust it,” she continued to babble as the screen lit up with colors and pictures like a computer screen, most of it nonsensical to Levi as she shifted rapidly past most of it looking for the specific show.

She stopped on something extremely colorful, blues and yellows and pinks and reds in vibrant color with four drawn people lying in what looked like the sky, and she abruptly turned to face him. “Are you okay with having to read what they say? The original is in a different language, so it’ll have subtitles at the bottom translating what they say. There are other versions where they redid the speaking parts in different languages, but I really like listening to the original--I feel like it really gets the emotions across because it's so well done.”

Levi hesitated for a moment, contemplating her offer of putting it in a language they understood or keeping the original and having to read what they were saying. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Whichever you want.”

“Subtitles it is,” she said, turning back to the TV and messing with a few things before she finally started the show, coming over to sit by him on the couch. He was sitting normally, his ankle propped up on his leg with one arm resting against the back of the couch, the other lying casually in his lap. Y/N, however, sat directly beside him, his arm behind her shoulders and her side pressed slightly against his, causing Levi to glance at her, mind flashing back to how she’d sat at the piano with him not too long ago. She wasn’t even glancing at him, though, gradually relaxing next to him like a kitten curling up to get warm, her eyes fixed on the colorful display that was now on the TV.

Turning his attention back to the TV, Levi studied the images in front of him, a cheerful bit of piano music fluttering towards them as vibrant and colorful images of a girl chasing a black cat moved seamlessly across the screen, much smoother than the quickly drawn bouncing ball Y/N had put together to describe what they would be watching.

If she was trying to sneak a peak of his reaction, she would catch his eyes had widened at the vibrant colors and amazing detail, the realistic sounds that came through and made him want to check and see if the piano behind them was being played, or there were people hiding somewhere making the character’s voices and singing the song as the scene suddenly shifted to what Y/N described to him as an intro, a quick prologue of sorts that set the tone of the show. Thankfully, however, she’d already explained to him that the sounds were done beforehand, recorded and somehow stored so it would be repeated to the images on the screen as they watched.

It was a little...outside his realm of understanding, how it all worked, and he had the sneaking suspicion he’d just have to accept that it just was and he needed to sit back and try to enjoy it. That was how a show was supposed to work, right? And that was exactly what Y/N seemed to be doing.

As she had warned him, the characters were speaking an entirely different language, so Levi couldn’t understand what was being said on its own. Thankfully, there were the subtitles to translate, Levi’s gaze flickering between reading the small letters to looking at the colorful screen to see what was happening, trying not to get too caught up in the details he didn’t understand, like the games the kids were playing, and how different the environment was even to what he saw in Y/N’s world.

At least the basic stuff he could easily make sense of--the main character was obviously the quiet and reserved, black haired, blue eyed pianist Kousei, and the characters were around Levi and Y/N’s age. The point of the story wasn’t clear yet, but she’d explained this was going to be episodic--it would be played like chapters in a novel, stopping at the end of a chapter before they would have to start the next one. So it might be a while before he started catching that. Right now, they were meeting characters, finding out their relationship to one another and getting hints at the history between them all.

Like the fact that Kousei lived alone because his father was absent, and his mother was deceased. She’d succumbed to illness when he was still young. That alone had the stirrings of empathy settling in Levi’s chest for the main character. He couldn’t relate to the abuse, but the desire to make her better, that somehow he could do something to make her feel better did resonate. It made him listen to their conversations a bit more, since he already had a foothold and something relatable.

Once he started drawing comparisons to the story unfolding in front of him, he couldn’t stop noticing them.

“The moment I met him, my life changed. Everything I saw, heard, and felt. All the scenery around me started to take on color. The whole world began to sparkle.”

A world of monotone, devoid of color, until he meets a certain vibrant youth who brings a sudden rush of color and life into the world around her, dragging Kousei in by the hand--as if he could ever resist the force of nature she was.

Hm. He wondered who that reminded him of.

He didn’t even notice when the “chapter” ended and the next started, his gaze flickering subtly towards Y/N on the couch beside him, appearing just as taken by the story as he already was.

However, this new chapter did bring about new questions, and was a bit closer to his grasp of understanding after watching Y/N play music for so long.

“Do you ever do competitions?” Levi asked as the characters walked around the competition and the history Kousei had at this specific building was teased, easily able to see that there was a piano on the stage despite it being a violin competition. Surely if there were competitions for violins, there were for pianos?

She shook her head, chewing slightly on her lower lip as she answered him. “No way--I play piano for myself and a few people. I’m not looking to make a career of it or become famous for it. Not to mention, I don’t think I’m cut out for competitions. There’s a lot of pressure, and they’re really strict about playing the pieces exactly how they were originally written. I want to play the piano how I feel, and that’s not always by paying attention to how it's written on the sheet.”

“And violins? What are they like?” he asked. He hadn’t seen or heard a violin yet, and was curious to hear what they would sound like.

“They’re a string instrument--portable, small. Really beautiful, too--they’re my second favorite instrument. They usually pair wonderfully with pianos--I’m pretty sure it’s common for a piano to accompany a violin in shows and competitions.”

Levi hushed with his questions again as the scenes playing out on the TV continued to unfold and the first violin performer took the stage, Levi hearing the light and lively music of the violin for the first time, the same song being performed over and over by the nondescript and nameless musicians on the stage in the show.

Beside him, Y/N was slowly tilting her head side to side as she listened to the music being played, eyes fixed on the screen. She must have felt almost in her element watching this, while Levi felt a bit more like Tsubaki, not understanding a lot of the names and such that were being thrown around by the characters in discussion, but still there to enjoy it nonetheless. When Kousei was tapping his fingers on the armchair to the piano music, Levi’s gaze flickered to Y/N to see if she was doing something similar, since she seemed focused on the music as well. It wasn’t as precise as Kousei, maybe she wasn’t playing every note in her head, but her fingers were lightly tapping against her legs like she wanted to be playing the keys on the piano.

Then came Kaori’s first performance.

Watching, Levi felt a familiarity in the girl’s intensity, once again reminded of the girl sitting next to him, who seemed to throw herself into every aspect of life around her--at least compared to him. There was a tension in the air, a feeling that this was going to be much different than the music they’d been hearing up until this point. Even Y/N had stilled next to him, eyes riveted to the girl on the screen.

The first notes were shocking. After listening to Y/N play the piano for so long, even his unprofessional, inexperienced ear could hear the shift in the sound, and how rich and deep it suddenly was. Beside him, Y/N shifted into a more upright position, eyes suddenly lighting up and sparkling as she leaned forward, her breath catching. The ripple through the audience wasn’t just in the show, but in reality, as the two of them on the couch suddenly focused entirely on Kaori’s performance.

The girl’s eyes flashed on screen, and the music suddenly leapt to life before them, making his own heart seem to pound a little faster, the sounds pleasant and uplifting to his ears, making him restless in a good way. It sounded similar to when Y/N played the piano with him that one day, not necessarily in skill, but in the life and emotion that was in it.

Like Y/N, Kaori was pouring herself into her playing, she shone brightly through in the piece, made like it was pulling back a curtain to reveal a part of her soul. Kousei even said as much, stating that Kaori was making the piece hers and hers alone.

The performance ended, and Y/N suddenly grabbed his arm with a squeal. “That was awesome! I’m going to have to find a recording of that!” she said breathlessly. Her excitement was infectious, and almost prompted Levi towards a smile as they slowly settled back onto the couch, the story progressing in front of them.

She was such a stark contrast to the black haired youth in front of her, the whirlwind to his reserved personality, but even she would show flashes of vulnerability, for his eyes only, it seemed. And he did what he could to hide what he could in order to protect her, without her ever knowing, probably.

Wait, was he still thinking about Kaori and Kousei?

Levi shook his head, focusing back on what was happening, reading Kousei’s contemplations about how he could still hear the refrain of the music Kaori played in the competition he witnessed, over and over.

Levi’s fingers tapped slightly against the back of the couch and in his lap, barely tapping out the melodies for the song they’d played on the piano the other day, music he heard even when he was alone with his thoughts in his own world, still able to feel her fingers aligned with his, guiding him through each key. He’d find himself tapping them out in rare moments of idleness, like he was still clinging to the memory of the sound even if he didn’t have a piano in his world.

Y/N shifted entirely back to her relaxed position against Levi’s side, head brushing briefly against his shoulder and making his skin tingle where the brief contact had been, his stomach squirming.

Kaori dragged poor Kousei around everywhere, usually into situations far out of his comfort zone, and far more aggressively than a certain someone sitting beside him. However, it seemed like more often then not, those situations were wonderful places that he wouldn’t have found or experienced on his own.

She brought color to his monochrome life.

Where he was hidden in shadows, she was cast in light, and she didn’t hesitate to pull him into the sun.

”I know you’re broken and beat up, but I want you. I choose you. I want you here.”

The beginning chapters seemed to fly by quickly, with Kaori pushing Kousei more and more, and beside Levi, Y/N seemed to be slowly wiggling closer to him. Was it intentional? Did she realize she was doing it? He did--he seemed hypersensitive to every motion, yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t even twitch. He stayed still, like sudden movement might frighten her away as easily as a stray cat.

As intriguing as the events on the screen were--and he was taking in the information, such as how Kousei used to have a black cat, how he couldn’t hear the sound of the piano after his mother died and quit piano directly afterwards, important stuff like that--Levi’s thoughts kept wandering as he watched.

He thought of how beautiful the trees with the pink petals were, how breathtaking every scene with them was, and how prominently they seemed to feature in every scene that had something meaningful going on. Y/N called them cherry blossom trees. He wanted to see one. What would it look like? What would the scene be if he stood under one with her?

Before he knew it, Kaori had cornered Kousei into accompanying her on the piano, and they were rushing towards another performance. Anticipation stirred in the air between him and Y/N, both of them wondering how this piece would sound, considering Kousei had already been framed as a child prodigy on the piano, and they knew Kaori was breathtaking. What would it sound like when they played together? Levi worried about how it would turn out, how Kousei seemed to be unraveling in front of them just before they went up on stage.

Before Kaori gave him a literal smack to get him out of his own head.

As lighthearted and carefree as she seemed to be, every now and then, she would drop these little petals of wisdom.

Levi’s gaze flickered to Y/N again.

Her eyes would shift from a sparkle that almost seemed naive to a depth he hadn’t expected to see, and she’d say something that seemed beyond her years.

“Go on a journey. A man away from home need feel no shame.”

“Natural. Bizarre. It’s like this girl herself is the journey with no clear destination.”

“You’re Freedom Itself.”

The couple took the stage. The song started out slow, sensual, peaceful. It reminded him slightly of the song Y/N taught him.

Before, predictably, Kaori brought her wild, fast paced playing back, bringing liveliness to the performance. It started beautifully, but just as the music seemed to portray some kind of descent, Kousei lost sense of the notes, the sound distorted even for them, listening, as if they were Kousei, only able to faintly hear Kaori while the rest sounded muffled, strangled out by water. When they were allowed to hear the sound again, it was off, it sounded harsh and jarring, out of sync. Not at all pleasant.

Considering the earlier mentioned problems, he should have known this wasn’t going to be a perfect and completely enjoyable performance. It was grating, and while he understood the emotional significance of seeing Kousei give up halfway through, his ears were a little grateful by that point.

The surprise was seeing Kaori stop as well. He’d thought perhaps something would urge Kousei to start playing again, but he hadn’t expected Kaori to stop in the process. Beside him, Y/N seemed to be biting on her thumbnail, her brows furrowed as she watched the screen in concern, a frown on her face, leg shifting restlessly around on the couch as she suddenly curled closer to Levi, directly against his side, oblivious to the surprised look he shot her because she was so focused with what was happening on the screen.

“Maybe there’s only a dark road up ahead. But you still have to believe and keep going. Believe that the stars will light your path, even a little bit.”

Kaori began to play again, the sound of just the violin playing on its own sounding lonely and out of place, especially when he knew there should be a piano playing with it. All they needed was for Kousei to play again. Would he? No excuses, Kaori needed his support, and Levi found himself silently judging Kousei, mentally pushing him to help her, to play, because that was what she needed from him.

”So what was it that you saw in me?”

“But you have me! Look up, and look at me. Look at me.”

Kousei starting to play again was a relief, even if it wasn’t quite right at first. After a bit of inner reflection, some time where they spent listening to the underwater sounds, it all faded away, and a soft scene of a mother and son filled the screen. The mother’s softly sung lullaby was soothing, and as it shifted to a scene of the sky, Levi’s eyes widened at the brilliant beauty it was, the range of color, of blues and whites and even some purples and pinks. How it sparkled and shimmered, stirring up emotions he didn’t know he’d buried somewhere inside him as he suddenly felt small again, curled up in a nest of soft warmth, staring out a small window up towards the sky high above him for the first time, gazing in wonder at the stars and moon that glittered high above him.

Words from one of the many times Y/N had played the piano for him drifted to his mind. How she had perceived her music had struck some kind of chord with him, even if he wasn’t saying anything--even when he realized he had no words to describe what he was feeling listening to her play that single song. He remembered how she’d told him that the point, what made music with her time, was how it could communicate what couldn’t be said with mere words.

The music shifted, and Kousei finally began to play, and the sound was enrapturing. There were no words--it could only be felt, what was happening between the boy at the piano and the girl with the violin.

Could he find a violin in his world? Could he learn to play it, so he could play with Y/N like Kousei played with Kaori? Would they manage to produce something similar, something wonderful like that? What would it feel like? What would the sound between them be? What would it say?

”I can hear your sound.”

So caught up in his thoughts, in the raw emotion and the music that had just enraptured them both, Levi was caught off guard when the mood took another shift.

He tensed, hand gripping the back of the couch a little harder as the sound faded away into an echo as Kaori suddenly collapsed. The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to raise, warning him of something incoming, even though there was no physical threat. He had a bad feeling, suddenly, seeing Kaori’s paler form in the hospital, seeing Kousei’s disbelieving look, the way all of her face wasn’t visible during certain key answers. It put dread inside him over what was happening with her, where this would go. A brief moment of happiness...but what did it mean in the long run? What did it matter, if it was going to be ripped so harshly away, anyway?

“It was everything to you, and you’re trying to rip that away by force. As if you were plucking off your limbs. That’s why it hurts too much for you to bear.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to forget? No, not a chance. Because you and I are living for that moment.”

“I won’t forget. I won’t forget, even if I die.”

“Thank you.”

The mood of the show mellowed drastically, far more serious notes seeping into the air around them as Kousei and those around him were faced with far more serious matters than who liked who, and music competitions. The competitions seemed to be fading into the background, a mere backdrop to the true story.

Ah…

He might be seeing it now.

There was more to this tale than just playing in competitions.

And he had the feeling he was going to be facing some...difficult scenes. Not the kind of gristly scenes of the everyday Underground. The personal, emotional kind. He was already getting flashes of past events, old emotions stirring this early on. What would come next? How deep was this show going to dig to bring out emotions or thoughts he didn’t even know he was keeping buried?

Y/N shifted again, now blatantly sidled up beside him, head leaning slightly to the side, coming to rest very lightly on his shoulder. Levi stilled, pulled entirely from his thoughts, both of them seeming to hold the position to see what the other would do.

She didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

Her head leaned a little more heavily against his shoulder, and she got more comfortable in her position next to him. Levi relaxed, letting her do as she pleased, silently grateful for the companionable warmth her presence beside him seemed to be offering him, allowing the scarier thoughts to temporarily be soothed and chased away. It helped that the story was shifting towards the more light-hearted as well, as Kaori and Kousei began to prepare for a piano competition.

“Before your fingers touch the keys, you must determine in your mind how you’re going to play it. Why do you play the piano? Is it for your sake? For someone else’s sake? How do you want to play this piece?”

Levi turned his head slightly to look at Y/N, curiosity stirred up in his mind as Kaori grilled Kousei for his mental imagery while he played. “What about you? What do you think of when you play the piano?” he asked her.

“Hm?” she asked, pulled for the first time out of the show as she turned slightly to meet his gaze, surprised by the inquiry. “I...don’t know. It depends on the moment. Usually it’s memories, though. Certain songs make me think of certain people, usually memories with that person. Maybe something I want to do or say to them? I haven’t thought of that much before...usually I just...do it. And I tend to get lost in what I’m doing, too. I guess that’s part of the reason why I haven’t thought of it much before.”

Levi continued to look at her even as she turned her attention back to the show, barely holding back a question that bubbled up inside him.

Have you ever thought of me?

She was teaching him to play the piano, right? What would his mental imagery be when he played?

While Levi got his quick question in and mulled over his own thoughts once more, the mood shifted to something more serious in the show again.

Kaori was worried she was being too pushy, that Kousei might resent him for forcing him into the position he was in, now. That she was being too hard on him. And something that they said resonated with him, because of recent events.

“You’re suffering because of me. I’m sorry.”

Levi saw Y/N in front of him in his mind’s eye. Her eyes were downcast, lips pressed together, shoulders slightly hunched, and she was on the verge of tears after his barbed words expressing how shitty this situation was for him, how it teased him with what he could never have. Did she blame herself, for him being pulled into her world, always around her for a brief while before he was kicked back?

But again, she’d been right. Even if it was brief, that didn’t mean the time he spent here with her was worthless. It still meant something to him, and it still brought him some comfort and, oddly enough, a sense of security. From the very first time they’d met, she’d provided him with somewhere he could truly feel safe and cared for.

“It was you who swept away all the dust. For sweeping away the dust that had collected on my body...thank you. For encountering me.”

The more hints the story dropped about Kaori’s health, the more worried Levi became about the turn this story might take. He was bracing for impact, a small frown on his face as he saw the pile of medicine Kaori was carrying around with her at the competition. Kousei’s musical rivals didn’t register so much with him in the previous two chapters, because he was still so focused on what was happening with Kousei and Kaori.

Y/N had gotten up at one point by now to get a drink, bringing back a water for him to sip on as they continued the story, time passing by without either of their knowledge of just how long they’d been sitting here. Even Levi, usually so much more active, was content to sit here and watch, hardly noticing his inactivity as he drank up every scene, every word, some ringing out through his mind, others falling into place as narrative importance, worry and elation and nostalgia, as well as so much more, all stirred together inside him, Y/N curled up like a kitten at his side, his arm still leaning against the back of the couch, his hand resting softly on her shoulder.

However, while he and Y/N were falling into a position of ease, the story seemed to be starting to shift more to the relationship between Kousei and his mother, and what happened to her. Kaori was getting worse, it seemed, and they were digging into a relationship that felt, in certain ways, similar to what Levi had gone through, and not too long ago, either, now that he was forced to look at it. It made him...uncomfortable, to say the least, but he wasn’t saying anything--he needed to see where this story was headed, with how invested he was at this point. And even if it got personal, he thought he might be able to sit and endure it all the same.

”My mom’s coming from the hospital to see me perform...so you see, in order to make Mom well again, in order to make her happy, I’m gonna play my very best as a gift!”

The first hit actually made him flinch. It was slight, but it was there, and Y/N might have caught it--he wasn’t expecting it, not from the tone, or what had just been discussed, or the way the scene changed so rapidly from the cheers of the audience after little Kousei finished playing his best for his mother to the slap across his face from the ailing woman. He suddenly felt tense, his hand still on Y/N’s shoulder and his expression suddenly unreadable as the hits kept coming, making something dark and angry well up inside him as Kousei was hit hard enough to draw blood against a backdrop of the abuse he’d been suffering the entire time.

Perhaps Y/N hadn’t caught it, because she was flinching as well, and her reaction was far more open on her face, eyes watering with near-tears, a slight shake in her body, and the occasional, shaking breath.

”All I wanted was for you to get better. All I wanted was for you to be happy. And yet...I wish you would just die.”

“That was the last time I said anything to my mom.”

Levi’s grip tightened on Y/N’s shoulder, but neither of them said a word, a grimness in the air as they continued to watch the story in front of them that had started so colorful but was taking a darker turn rather quickly.

Levi scowled slightly at the switch to such an upbeat little song at the sudden end of the chapter, which would be followed by another upbeat song at the beginning of the next.

“These ‘intros’ and ‘outros’ are deceptively cheerful,” Levi criticized.

“What’s a good story without some struggle?” Y/N replied, though she briefly untangled herself from her position at Levi’s side and wiggled off the couch. “Though, I think I’m going to go grab some tissues. I’m starting to think there’s going to be some really sad or heartfelt stuff coming up. Tell me when it’s back on if I’m still missing!” she added before darting away, leaving Levi to sigh quietly to himself and look up at the ceiling, keeping track of the show in front of him as he waited for her to run off and come back with a colorful box, squirming back into place beside him and letting his hand return to her shoulder as she placed the box next to her on the couch, sighing contently.

“The show must go on!” she insisted, face devoid of the strong emotion they’d been sharing just a few moments ago. She settled next to him with a soft sigh, the sight of Kousei struggling at the piano returning where the previous chapter left off.

They watched him struggle against the ghost of his mother, trying to force himself to play through it, to play even though he couldn’t hear, even as the sound grated on them. Watched as he slowly gave up, until he stopped entirely before the song was even over, just like he had with Kaori.

Part of him had expected Kousei to have some kind of revelation just before he quit and push through, but he’d really stopped. Now it just remained to be seen if he could start again. Of course, after his performance with Kaori, they knew he was disqualified. But would he find a reason to play anyway, like she had?

”Even the you that’s here inside me, won’t let me give up. That day, I wonder. What did you play for?”

Levi felt the ghost of her fingers on his again, unaware that he was tapping the keys against the skin of her shoulder at the memory.

Once more, the sound changed as Kousei found his reason to play. The girl who’d changed his world from monotone to color, who dragged him into a whirlwind of life without giving him the chance to think twice about it.

“Just one person matters to me. Only you matter. Thank you...Will it reach her? I hope it reaches her.”

”Your hidden emotions. The you that you’ve never known. The piano drags out everything…”

Levi’s gaze once more was unfocused on the screen as he was swept away in a sea of his own thoughts, thinking back to the times he’d listened to Y/N play. What had he been hearing those days? What would he hear in her playing in the future? If he put enough effort into learning to play as she tried to teach him...could it help him communicate some of the things he struggled to say? It was at least worth giving it a shot.

And he would be sure to pay closer attention in the future to see what he could hear, what he may not be aware of.

The pacing lulled into something more relaxed once more, a brief reprieve after the emotions that were just thrown at them, allowing him and Y/N to talk a bit more, both of them keeping one eye on the subtitles even as they made little comments about what they’d heard so far. The unspoken love triangle? Maybe it was a triangle. The romantic feelings were crisscrossed and all over the place between this group of friends. They commented on their observations about Kousei and Kaori, what they thought was going to become of the two as they watched, whether Kaori or Tsubaki would end up the one with him in the future.

Music was another thing they talked about, obviously. How they wanted to hear Kousei and Kaori play together again--and were excited they had the chance to with the upcoming concert. Y/N also expressed how she loved Chopin pieces, and as a result was happy about how many Chopin pieces were in the show so far and was hoping to hear more. She also mentioned that Love’s Sorrow, the song they were working on now for the concert, was a beautiful piece--mournful, obviously, but beautiful. She even offered to help him learn it when he got more used to the piano if he wanted to.

Levi was a little distracted, though, by the further warning signs that something was going to happen to Kaori. In the same stroke that he contemplated how she had a skill for seeing the beauty in the world, like Y/N tended to do for him, she said something ominous that further solidified a growing suspicion that Levi was keeping in mind.

“You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.”

As worried about Kaori as that line made Levi for the context of the show, it also reminded him of his own situation with Y/N. He helped when he could, but he was absent so often...and it worked both ways. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself when he was on his own, but Y/N he worried about. What if something serious happened when he wasn’t around to help her? Would she be all right? Would she be able to take care of herself until he could be here to help her?

It was another line that resonated with him, another one that was going to burn in his mind and make him brood over their situation. This show was rife with them, and it had his emotions all over the place, despite his outward calm posture.

He had no way of knowing just how strongly the next chapter was going to hit him.

He was as riled up as Kousei after hearing that smart mouthed kid claim that the music Kaori made was just disastrous noise. If he’d ever heard someone say that about the music Y/N played, he was liable to sock them in the mouth. Honestly, after that comment, he’d thought that the focus was going to be on Kaori again, even with all the recent focus on Kousei’s mother. That misconception was quickly fixed, though, when the chapter began with a flashback to Kousei’s mother and how he became a pianist, further reinforced when Kousei started to play and they were given the first glimpses into his thought process, and what his new mentor--his mother’s old friend--was thinking.

Kousei’s mother’s favorite song, Kousei’s lullaby.

”Would she have played it like this?”

Kousei was curled up against the wall in the darkness of a room with no one else, knees pulled up to his chest, head buried, trying to shut out the world, the woman who’d known and been close to Kousei’s mother finding him in the darkness as Kousei cried out for his mother, for someone to help him, save him. Levi tensed, going completely still beside Y/N with his gaze riveted on the scene in front of him.

”That son of ours is about to bid you a last farewell.”

”Will it reach her?”

Levi’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he attempted to keep a lid on the emotions that were trying to rise inside him again.

“After I’m gone, what’s going to become of Kousei? Will he be able to earn a living?”

There was a pressure on his chest making it impossible to breathe and a forceful pain in his throat that was pushing right at the back, like there was something stuck there that wanted to come out but couldn’t, because he wouldn’t let it no matter how much it pushed.

”What a terrible mother. There’s nothing I can leave that boy...”

His breathing ground to a halt except for the barest, shaking whisper through his nose.

“I wish I could’ve stayed with him longer...Will my treasure ever find happiness?”

Eyes fixed on the screen, Levi suddenly felt the overwhelming need to bolt, could feel his fingers and legs twitch like he was about to without warning, but the music was reaching a crescendo, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he might be able to make it through this, even as the pain in his throat and the pressure on his chest seemed to grow more crushing, more painful, so much harder to contain.

”Do you think it reached my mom? The way I played my very best? Do you think it reached Mom?”

“You two are connected, aren’t you? Of course it reached her.”

Kousei broke on screen, and Levi suddenly realized he wasn’t going to make it to the end of the episode. He needed to bolt now or he might shatter.

Levi tapped Y/N on the shoulder to get her to move, not daring to look at her and possible see her a crying mess already at the emotional scene. He gave a brief, “I need to take a shit,” that he managed to get out in a steady voice past the pain in his throat by some miracle, and then stood up, the brief statement her only warning to shift before his movement accidentally dumped her on the ground. He didn’t run to the bathroom, that would be too much of a tell. Instead, he got up calmly and made his way to the bathroom, not hurrying his step until he was out of sight and already halfway up the stairs.

By the time he reached the bathroom, he couldn’t hold it back any further, safely locked behind the bathroom door with the water in the sink running seconds before he finally choked on the feeling in his throat and chest. A strangled sound left him, and he leaned over the sink, trying to catch his breath even as his body tried to make him sob. His breaths hitched painfully, a slight shake in his hands before they clenched the edge of the sink, shoulders hunched and teeth grinding painfully as a soft whine escaped his rigid body.

Y/N was waiting for him. He couldn’t stay up here forever, but he at least had to get ahold of himself before he headed back down there. Out of stubborn determination, Levi tried to gulp in air and steady his breath and hands. Once he had a strong enough hold of his breathing, he cupped his hands under the water and splashed some of it onto his face to help calm himself down.

Only when he felt his composure had returned, Levi dried off his face and hands, then carefully made his way back downstairs, well-aware that the chapter wasn’t even over, and there were still several chapters left--nine, according to Y/N.

A lot could happen in nine chapters.

Levi calmly returned to his seat on the couch, Y/N giving him a quizzical, examining look before she resumed the position they’d been in before resuming the show in the exact spot he’d left--thankfully, it was after Kousei’s breakdown, so he wouldn’t have to see any of that again.

That didn’t, however, mean that he was in the clear. No, now that they had put a neat little bow on Kousei’s struggle with his mental image of his mother, they were moving on to the one who had been concerning Levi since one of the first few episodes.

”There’s an ever present sorrow hanging over Arima’s music...Then it’s a demon’s path he must walk. His growth is spurred by sorrow. If he walks that path, he might have to lose someone to move forward.”

Kaori was in the hospital again, and Levi felt the uneasiness and dread about the direction this show was taking grow substantially. Especially as Kousei ran inside the room and saw Kaori in the exact position his mother had been in. The way this show was starting to dig at some subconscious and deeply buried pains and fears of his that he would rather keep far from the front of his mind, but it kept plodding on, and he felt far too invested now to just leave it where it was. The curiosity and need to know what happened next would eat away at him if he asked Y/N to stop it there--plus, asking that might tip her off that something about it was upsetting him, considering at this point he couldn’t claim he was bored with it.

”You’re gonna be fine, right?”

“I can see you again, right?”

“You won’t leave me like my mom did, right?”

At this point, the focus on Tsubaki and Kousei’s relationship was a much needed break from the reality and darker questions being asked with Kaori and Kousei right now, questions that he had asked himself from time to time regarding Y/N, questions and concerns he didn’t want to think about for his own sanity. What was happening with Tsubaki was more lighthearted, less grim, even if it was confusing and brought up even more questions to ask himself. After all, Tsubaki was being faced with the question of how she felt about Kousei--the boy who had been her friend since they were little, who she was falling in love with no matter how much she tried to deny it, who she had always been beside and wanted to be beside forever.

It made him wonder. He and Y/N were friends--had been for years now. She was there for him during his darkest moments, and he’d been there for some of her scariest moments. Yes, they were friends, but...was it starting to go deeper than that? Did he feel closer to her, somehow?

Her hands had felt warm against his when they played the piano together, pressed against one another with his arms around each other so they wouldn’t get in each other’s way. His skin had tingled where she touched him when she’d taken care of and cleaned him up after that fight. He felt comfortable sitting beside her now, with her leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, despite how borderline intimate it felt.

Had she felt something similar? They hadn’t really looked at each other in these moments--they’d been avoiding looking at each other whenever something like that happened, so he had no idea. Was she aware of just how comfortable he was around her? How different that was for him? Did she have any clue how important she was becoming to him, how big a part of his life she had gradually become despite the very real distance and difference between their two worlds.

This entire time he’d been drawing similarities between them and Kousei and Kaori, when perhaps the comparison should have been with Tsubaki and Kousei.

It sure as hell might make him feel better, considering he was rather sure she had a terminal illness. After growing up in the Underground and with the experiences he had so far, fatal illnesses were something he could spot, especially when there were as many warning signs as there were for Kaori. She only seemed to be getting worse--he was pretty sure she’d been told she was going to die, even though there was no audio for the moment to confirm it. Since the first episode, Kaori had been centered on making an impression, about living on in the memories and hearts of others--she was clearly afraid of disappearing without a trace after she was gone.

Still, amid all the aching and pain, there was still flashes of hope as Kaori struggled against her illness, and more moments that made him think about the relationship between himself and the girl next to him--more damn connections between them and Kousei and Kaori, which did nothing to sooth his nerves and fears he didn’t even know he had.

“Why are the sounds you make so beautiful I think I’m going to cry?”

“That devotion you showed. Her heart had turned grey, and you gave it color.”

Had he managed to give her what she gave him? He felt like he didn’t have anything to give, coming from the dreadful world he did. She was always the one bringing color into his life, had he ever brought color to hers? Would he ever be able to? His world, his life, was ugly and dark and probably tragic. What could he offer her out of that?

”Did I reach him?”

“You don’t have the time to see me.”

“It’s not about time--I want to see you.”

The chapter started so calmly--discussion about the next round of the competition, Kaori continuing her struggle to get better, Tsubaki finally admitting her feelings for Kousei in a way. Levi even made a quip about how Watari and Kaori really needed to stop dragging him along as the awkward extra in their group, practically rubbing it in his face even if it was unintentional. There was even another moment of resonance with something Tsubaki said to Kousei.

“So you won’t lose your way, so you won’t have regrets, I’ll stay by your side forever.”

Still, he should have seen it coming. It shouldn’t have surprised him, considering he was well aware of the cruel shittiness of the world, even if Y/N wasn’t. All this time he’d spent bracing himself with the hints of just how bad Kaori’s illness was, the ominous lines of hers. All the lightheartedness and self-discovery of the past several episodes came crashing down with the emergency with Kaori as, from what Levi could see even though they clearly had far more advanced medicine that Levi knew nothing about, Kaori had some kind of close call, a brush with death, right in front of Kousei. And then with the damn cat getting hit and dying literally moments later, Kousei having to wash the blood off of his hands and breaking down in the wake of everything that was happening. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still ached to see it.

And there were two chapters left. Realistically, he doubted that Kaori was going to recover in two chapters after all this time. By now, he was certain that she was going to die by the end of the story.

She wasn’t even gone yet, and Kousei had already given up. Levi had seen plenty of people reach that point. No fight left, no will to move. Kousei was right back in the position he’d been in at the start, the impending loss of Kaori the final nail in his coffin, his breaking point.

“Why does it have to end up this way? I can’t...go on. No more...I can’t try anymore.”

He hadn’t hit his breaking point--he hoped he never reached that point. But he was sure even he had one, even if he wasn’t sure where his limit was.

Levi blinked at the white fluttering from the sky on screen. A novel sight he couldn’t ignore or just accept. Snow, Kaori called it.

So that was what it looked like. One of the many things he’d heard about but hadn’t seen…

“Have you seen snow before, Levi? Since you live Underground,” Y/N suddenly asked from where she was curled up into his side, head turned to look at him curiously. Levi shook his head no, and she hummed. “You’ll have to show up some time in the winter so I can show you all kinds of awesome things you can do when it snows. It’s cold, but it’s fun. And everything looks so clean and pure...my favorite things are the trees encapsulated in ice,” she said with a wistful sigh, eventually quieting down as the scene on the screen continued to develop.

Maybe one day. But he would have to come through not only when it was winter, but on a day that there was snow, and he had no control over when he blipped over into her world.

Blipped, blip...her word for when Levi flickered into and out of her world. Clearly, it had caught on even in his mind.

“The people I care about keep leaving me...I’m going to be left all alone.”

Inwardly, Levi felt himself flinch, and that desire to bolt was trying to rear its head again, the desire for her to shut it off and spare him these comments that kept digging into the darker corners of himself, the weakness he kept hidden away for no one to see.

“But you have me. But you have me.”

For the first time, Levi felt Y/N’s hand give his little squeeze on his knee as Kaori repeated her sentiment to Kousei.

Perhaps the feelings were mutual. Maybe he wasn’t the only one drowning in emotions on the inside and drawing parallels while they watched this show, if she was giving him a little squeeze after those words. After he registered that he had felt it, and he hadn’t imagined it, he gave her shoulder a small squeeze in return.

“I’m going to struggle as hard as I can. Struggle, struggle, struggle, like there’s no tomorrow.”

“You gave me this desire to cling to the time that I spent with you. Aren’t you going to struggle to? We’re so good at struggling.”

Hell if that wasn’t the story of his life so far, right there.

Collectively, the two of them held their breath, watching as, after Kousei declared how useless it was for him to even try to play in the state he was in right now, Kaori got to her feet on her own, and the sound of the violin softly flickered towards them from the screen. It was like the music was from a dream, her imaginary violin ethereal, Kaori lit up by a flurry of snow as she played to a crescendo and smiled at Kousei.

“See, miracles can happen just like that.”

Shaking, legs trembling, sweating, collapsed into Kousei’s arms with a breathless laugh, clinging to him like a source of comfort. It wasn’t her reciting of the things she knew about Kousei, or what she wished she knew, that drew a response from him, but her heartfelt pleas with Kousei as he held her in her arms.

“I’m scared. I’m scared! Don’t leave me all alone!”

That was why it was familiar. That was how Y/N had held him when…

And perhaps the reason he’d lashed out when he’d found out about how fleeting this world was for him had been because…

Levi shifted, and it was only when Y/N started to pull away did he realize he’d been shifting to get up and walk away, to bolt. When she fixed him with that questioning look again, not-yet-spilled tears in her eyes from the emotion of the scene, her hand still fisted in his shirt, it brought him back to what was happening in the present, and he shook his head as if to dismiss the movement as he sat back down, relieved when the scene changed again.

Considering it was going to the competition and Kaori’s surgery at the same time, he doubted he was going to get much of a reprieve before the emotions hit again. Kousei was still a mess, though it was a miracle he’d at least shown up to the competition, but even watching him was worrisome, wondering if he was going to break at the piano again after all this progress he’d made throughout the show, everyone watching in concern in the show and on the couch.

“I made you remember something you don’t want to remember…”

“I won’t forget, even if I die…”

“You can just forget about it all, like you’ve pressed the reset button…”

“I guess maybe we never should've met, huh?”

Levi had to close his eyes for a moment after that one, sucking in a sharp breath. It was like it had come right out of his denial of their entire situation, how angry he’d been, the pain it had caused, how for a few moments, he’d felt like it would have been better if he could forget it all, if they had never met, because then he wouldn’t know about what he could never have. His heart ached painfully, the words reverberating not in his mind, but in his bones as the pain in his throat already seemed to be returning.

He opened his eyes, and on screen, Kousei started to break down again, face in his hands, on the brink of tears seated at the piano, on stage in front of everyone once again.

Tsubaki sneezed, and after a few moments of reflecting, after realizing how many people he knew were there...Kousei finally began to play, the notes reverberating deep inside his chest in a full, resonating sound. Something about it made him nostalgic, but also so...it was so…

“Bursting with such mournful color.”

The chapter suddenly came to an end mid performance, which startled Levi--especially when Y/N darted forward so suddenly to grab the remote and quickly jump to the next one, immediately snapping back into his side, clutching to his clothes like her life depended on it, curled into a ball as he realized for the first time that tissue box was suddenly right in front of her, easily accessible.

The last episode.

Considering the set-up, neither of them were going to get through this last part unscathed emotionally.

It started from the beginning of the piece this time, the commentary being made by the onlookers and Kousei different this time, centered entirely on Kousei after the very beginning. Levi and Y/N were both enraptured by the performance though, holding to one another on the couch with gazes fixed forward, completely still, even their breathing slight as they paid full attention to every word, and let the music pull them in deeper into the emotional symphony Kousei was creating with just the piano.

“I’m so scared...Somebody…”

“But you have me.”

“I’m not alone. From the moment that we meet someone else, none of us can ever be alone. We’re all connected.”

Levi’s grip tightened slightly on Y/N’s shoulder again, and he felt her grip tighten in return.

“Don’t leave me all alone.”

“Dummy, you have me.”

“Inside me...you exist.”

Y/N nuzzled into his side like a cat, and he thought he felt his shirt starting to get damp. He ignored it, keeping his grip on her firm and steady, staying still beneath her as he stared stalwartly at the screen, even as the emotions were starting to stir violently around inside him.

”No way am I going to leave you all alone. Reach her. Reach her. Reach her. Reach her.”

The scenery changed entirely, like Kousei was playing in the sky amid a shower of colors, floating around like leaves that autumn day when he and Y/N had jumped into the piles and sent them scattering into the air. Kaori’s whispered ‘Thank you’ as Kousei carried her back down the stairs sent a shiver down his spine, especially when Kousei of the present reacted, and turned his head to see Kaori materializing beside him, violin in hand.

Beside him, there was suddenly a whine from Y/N, and a rather large sniffle, as well as that damp feeling on his clothes starting to spread. She trembled slightly beneath his arm and hand, and he realized she was starting to cry rather heavily, her face partially buried in his side.

The music was jarring, disorienting, suddenly intense and tragic as Kousei closed his eyes, barely holding back tears.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

And there it was.

Kaori’s rich violin playing joined into Kousei’s suddenly mournful and tragic playing, and Levi realized that they were witnessing the last time the two would get to play together. It couldn’t happen again in body, but at least in spirit. Words weren’t needed for this moment. Nothing was said between the characters on the screen, and not a word was spoken between Levi and Y/N. She was continuing to cry into his side, with Levi starting to semi-awkwardly rub her shoulder to try and comfort her even as his own heart seemed to be pounding painfully at the sight in front of him, every note piercing him deeper than he thought possible with the raw emotion behind and pure weight of this single moment. All there was at this moment in time, was him, Y/N, and the music being created on the stage in front of them between Kaori and Kousei, one last time.

A sob broke past Y/N’s control as the colorful day turned into a rich night, and Kaori stopped playing. Levi held his breath, watching as transfixed on the scene as Kousei was transfixed on Kaori, the music softening for the briefest moment before it started to turn slow, mournful, and tragic again.

”Wait...please don’t go!”

As Kousei started to beg Kaori to do all of these things with him again, good and bad, Levi felt the pressure on his chest return, the burn in his eyes and the clench in his jaw, the pain in his throat. Memories of his own were flickering before his eyes in place of what Kousei begged of Kaori.

A small hand offering a still-warm roll. A splash of cool water to the face with shrieks and giggles filling the air. The security of being able to lean comfortably against a warm back with the sun shining down from above, hands gripping his legs and his arms wrapped around the girl who carried him home on her back. The cool taste of ice cream as they leaned against the brick store. A gentle hand rubbing soft circles on his back as he slipped in and out of lucid thought in his feverish state. The sound of hope amid darkness that they managed to create together despite his crude piano playing. Her hand even now clenched tightly in his shirt seeking comfort, like when he’d led her home in the dark through the desert.

His hand was stretched out before him, pulled along by the girl that suddenly disappeared when he closed his eyes. He tried to reach a little further, as if his fingertips could press past some veil between his world and hers, so he could reach her even for another moment. The warmth and the softness of the comfort she wrapped him in evaporated into smoke between his fingers, disappearing in translucent curls, leaving him with nothing to hold, the weight of her presence suddenly disappearing.

What if one day he didn’t come back?

What if one day it all just...ended? Without any warning? The only sign that he would never return the passage of time and gradual loss of hope?

“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t go, please don’t leave me behind!”

Y/N was sobbing openly into his side now, but she didn’t move to stop the show--she kept watching it. Levi was unaware of the fact that his hand was shaking against her shoulder, all of his effort on keeping the emotions bottled inside him as he watched Kaori disappear before Kousei’s eyes in a flurry of petals, swept away by an indifferent wind.

The rest of the last chapter seemed to pass by in a blur, Levi spending most of that time trying to work his way down from the emotions that scene had stirred up in him, glancing over at Y/N to see a collection of tissues around her while her gaze remained fixed forward, still a blubbering mess over the events that were unfolding on screen. Shards of Kaori’s letter made it through to Levi, certain fragments sticking with him in the moment, others slowly settling in likely to make an impact on him later.

“I want Kousei to play the piano for me!”

He understood that sentiment. He loved listening to Y/N play for him, it was one of the many reasons why he brought it up so often. Sure, it was nice she was trying to teach him to play, but the true moment of enjoyment for him was when she played for him.

“Isn’t it funny how the most unforgettable scenes can be so trivial?”

“None of it was trivial.”

No, none of it was. From playing card games in her room to playing tag on the playground, or eating frozen treats on the steps while they played simple games with their hands. Every little moment was one Levi kept stored away, a secret trove of memories just for him and her, something bright and...something that the Underground couldn’t corrupt, because it couldn’t reach or touch this world or the girl at his side.

“Was I able to live inside your heart? Do you think you’ll remember me at least a little? You better not hit reset. Don’t forget me, okay? That’s a promise, okay? I’m glad it’s you, after all.”

Like Y/N said, just because the moments were fleeting, didn’t mean they didn’t matter. Even if they stopped one day, for whatever reason...at least he would have everything that had come before, the memories, the moments that nothing could take away. He didn’t think she would want him to try and forget, anyway. And a part of him wouldn’t want her to forget him, either. Unlike everything else in his life so far, he wanted this good thing to last, one way or another.

“Will I reach you? I hope I can reach you.”

This time, when his mind procured the image of his hand outstretched in front of him, trying to catch the disappearing back of the girl in front of him, fingers finding nothing but air, he let his hand squeeze slightly against Y/N’s shoulder once more, reminding himself she was right here in his arms right now, and not to take that for granted. Maybe sometimes she’d be out of reach, but right now, she was right here. She wasn’t always out of reach. He’d just have to make each moment he was here count for something.

Thankfully, she already seemed pretty good at making that happen, so he felt like he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much. She was always taking him by the hand to have him run with her wherever she wanted to go and explore, and so far, she hadn’t made him regret following her on her little adventures.

She made his life colorful.

“Thank you for being my friend, Levi.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Through The Looking Glass Tags: @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie @tartheyes @super-peace-fangirl @huntersbunker @nefelimalfoy @soft-levi-girl-blog @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal @sugas-daddy7 @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid @roayaloveslife @sanrioclit

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