#it's an everyday part of so many people's lives and the System just drops the fucking ball every time

[twcfaces]

one thing i'd love to explore with harvey is the fact that he's spent a long time in The System. The Institution. The Law. Both as its protector and as a product of its mishandling.

Little Harvey Dent could have benefited very early on from government programs aimed at vulnerable, mentally ill, abused children. Instead, he got some bogus diagnosis and basically told he just had to learn to behave.

DA Harvey Dent fought extremely hard for rehabilitation. Not every defendant was heartless. Sure, a lot of them were the scum of the earth, but others, their only crime was being sick and confused and not cared for, even abused or manipulated.

As an inmate at Arkham, he's been mishandled, misdiagnosed, manhandled, and I know he's a violent person - but the nature of his delusion creates this violent persona. He needs a little more help than a k*tamine shot to the neck, you know? He's been on so many medications, used so many therapeutic techniques -

you're probably tired of me rambling about how tragic and sick this guy is, and it's probably tiresome, but honestly? it's just how sick people are treated that keeps re-enforcing this behavior, as well as Harvey's desire to actually see it fucking work.

[biscuitblinkeu]

To be Loved

Fluff • Abuse • Smut

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader -> Requested

Word Count: 6885~

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, soft NSFW

Prompt: Soulmate AU with spoice— (reader is shorter than Rosè)

A/N: The long awaited one shot… yeah. I’m on my knees type of sorry for how long this took to get finish. Also, spice starts near the end— SJDHFHDHDJDJ don’t tell me anything about it, just let me fade into existence LOL. It’s not my strong suit, so bear with me. I hope you like some part of it anon! 😭🤞🏽

Soulmates were such a complicated concept. They could be born many years before or after one another; die before meeting; fall in love with someone else— thus breaking their tie; or right out reject their fated pair. They could be halfway across the world, or live in a completely different society than your own.

There were those who didn’t believe in Soulmates, those that thought the system wasn’t fair. But what was fair about fate? It was just a way to bind two people together. Forever. You either got lucky or you didn’t, there’s no in between— soulmates are simply a random occurrence. And the world was too cruel to give everyone the same happiness.

You were one of the few people who didn’t believe in soulmates despite the evidence they were real being all around you. You didn’t believe in the fairytales from poets, the grand, romanticized adventures about those looking for their fated pair, those who traveled across the world, suffered many hardships, and finally, by the wonderful power of destiny, found their other half. 

It was all a joke to you. It was unhealthy, too. Imagine spending almost your whole life wishing upon a dazzling shooting star for a soulmate to take you away from the loneliness and the imaginary scenarios, making them true, only to find out they died or broke the tie. Or to pathetically plead to the otherworldly force that created soulmates each year for someone to save you, to love you, for it to not be answered?

It was your own personal experience— something you believed to be a forever thing.

 It wasn’t.

.

The crescent moon grinned down upon you mockingly, its light illuminating the streets. Everyone seemed to always have a destination in mind, somewhere they knew they had to go. You were always lost.

 A bitter wind nipped at your face and hands, and you pulled your scarf up more.You looked at the heavy brown-paper bag in your hands and sighed, you had to go back home. Those all familiar feelings bubbled up inside of you once again: hopelessness; fear. These feelings made you hurt, they were empty feelings that just seemed to grow bigger everyday, making it harder for you to have control. You clenched your fists to stop the shaking, even dug your nails into your skin. It didn’t help. 

(Even if you did right, you’d still get punished).

That’s how it always started: the trembling. It started from your fingers and made its way through your body till you’re shaking. When you shake you no longer have control of your nerves. If you’ve lost control of your nerves, you get dizzy. Then you’ve lost the ability to breathe properly… and you drown. 

You ripped your gaze away from the bag that held bottles of tequila and champagne and forced your feet to move forward. Though, too caught up in trying to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed, you failed to notice the wild animal scurrying on the sidewalk in front of you. A shriek left you and the bag in your hands dropped as you jumped out of surprise, its contents smashing and spilling out on the floor and your shoes. The smell is strong, and you wrinkle your nose. 

There goes your chance at having a peaceful night.

You hope they’ve fallen asleep and forgot. When you’re walking up the driveway you saw that the lights were still on. They’ve just forgotten to turn them off. They’re asleep, you told yourself over and over as you're unlocking the door.

They’re not. 

Your mother was still perched on her soulmate’s lap, just as she was when you went out, looking at you expectantly. Your eyes darted to the floor, and a quiet, shaky breath left your lips. 

She noticed your hands are empty and her face falls. You could see the burning color appear on her cheeks— she’s angry now, and in front of her soulmate you’ve embarrassed her? 

“Excuse me,” she murmured as she slid off his lap. She walked past you, heading to the hallway, and even though she doesn’t verbally tell you to follow her or do any type of gesture, you just know to follow her. 

You’re in the hallway, and oh, what a hazardous place to be in. Your eyes darted around the small corridor, taking mental notes of what looked sharp and what could bruise you and what might— “(Y/n).” Her voice was cold and it made you jump, she gave you a what-the-fuck look. “Where are our drinks? Where have you gone to take this long and come back empty handed? Where’s my money? Where has it been spent?” She bombarded you with questions.

“I had them, but…” Should you tell her you were a klutz and dropped it? 

Well, you’re unable to anyways. The moment your mom scrunched her nose up with that glint in her eyes you knew what was coming, yet you weren’t ready for it. It was just so fast. 

A heavy, hard smack collided with your cheek, knocking you off balance to the ground. The trip wasn’t so smooth as your back dug into the sharp dresser edge on the way. You held your cheek, blinking rapidly as pain assaulted your senses. God, your head was spinning, your ears were ringing, and your face burned. You bit your lip to stop any cries. Tears pricked at your eyes and you refused to look at her, your gaze trained to the polished wood boards. 

Your mother has already come up with her scenario, her answer instead of hearing you out. (Not that the outcome would be any different, but maybe less harsh).

“So you decided to drink it yourself, huh?” She scoffed, rubbing at her temples like you were an annoying headache. “I knew I smelt something… You naughty little girl, that was ours!” You still smelt like the alcohol, meaning you must’ve drunk theirs, that’s the only reasonable conclusion, right?

You saw her coming closer to you. She grabbed a handful of your hair and you yelped, forced to stand up. Your legs scrambled for grip underneath you and as soon as it’s gained, it’s lost when your mother’s knuckles collide with your jaw on the same side of the slap. She was not going easy on you, and you deserve it. You deserve this, because this is what you get for not paying attention.

Your vision blurred for a moment and you finally let a cry escape your lips. “Mom!” Your mother rolled her eyes and practically manhandled you to your room, her nails digging into the side of your waist and arm with a bruising grip as she pushed you forward. “Mom! Please stop, it hurts!” 

“Good,” she sneered, fingers digging deeper into your skin. You whimpered in agony. “You had one job…couldn’t even do that.” You’re scared, everything hurts, and you're beginning to tremble again, and this time, maybe you’ll welcome the panic if it’ll give you something else to focus on. 

She pushed you onto your bedroom floor and snorted at your state. “Go to bed. I don’t want to hear anything from you.” Then she slammed the door, the sound ringing in your ears. 

You didn’t have the energy to drag yourself onto your bed, and would rather not risk making things harder for yourself, so you curled up on the ground. The sharp smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, causing your nose to sting, each shallow intake of air more stuttered than the last as you began to weep. The gash on your cheek was painful, and the feeling of a wet sensation let you know that the skin was broken and bleeding. 

You can’t do this anymore. 

You've seen how hard it is for people with mothers and fathers that aren’t soulmates. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. You’ve experienced it first hand. 

Your mom and dad weren’t soulmates, just two people that stopped trying. Ever since your mom found her soulmate (Evan) and broke up with your dad, you were able to see your mom finally in true love, yet your dad was broken. His soulmate, who died before they could meet, awaited him in the afterlife. Not long before they broke up, it was like the Universe decided he had nothing else to live for if not with his soulmate, and he passed. 

Since then, Evan stopped you from finishing your studies to stay home and take care of your mom and the expected baby. The miscarriage was highly unexpected, and you’ve been the punching bag since. Your little brother's death was traumatic for them, and they couldn’t come up with a reason why it had to be that way— so it was pushed onto you. 

It’s your fault, your mom told you; you should’ve taken care of her better, Evan had said, she was too stressed out because of you. You’ll never find your soulmate, they said, creating the first crack. You're unlovable. Useless. Who could ever love you? You’re here because your soulmate left you.

(It was then you realized you couldn’t rely on a soulmate to save you).

With your studies discontinued, your life plans were shattered. You've been forced to live with your mom since your dad died, having no other place to go. You’ve hopped from job to job, saving up money to leave and get back on track, but they take it away from you anyways. You're stuck.

That’s why you decided to run away. 

When Evan and your mom retired to their room, you waited a few hours, then snuck out of your room— for the first time grateful for not having a lock— with a bag packed. You always kept some funds away from your mother, funds she didn’t know about, and today you would use them. The downstairs was quiet, and you made sure to stray away from creaky floorboards. You turned the corner, flinching upon seeing Evan in the kitchen digging through the fridge. You needed to go through the kitchen to get out. His droopy, unkind eyes settled on you. 

“Hey,” he said, frowning as he put his cup down. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

When he took a step towards you, you bolted, running past him and throwing the door open. A moment later the same door flew open, and you realized he was chasing you. “Hey! Fuck— get back here!”

You ran harder, barely getting air into your lungs as you turned corners and ran through streets, bumping into people. When you no longer heard his voice yelling after you, you switched into a slow jog, then a tired walk. 

You walked a few blocks, then entered a café to rest.

You glanced around the room, noting how cozy it was. It reminded you of how your grandma’s house would have a homey atmosphere; old family photographs hung proudly on the walls, soft music playing from a record player, and the air scented with something that made you warm. There weren't many customers, and you figured it was close to closing. 

You hung your backpack over a chair and sat down, resting your head on the table, taking a much needed break. You would order a drink, but didn’t want to inconvenience the baristas since they were cleaning up. When you felt your eyes closing, you reminded yourself to leave before 

they closed. 

It wasn’t long before you slipped into a nap, the comforting atmosphere lulling you deeper, and ignored the almost overwhelming feeling in your heart. You ignored the tugging sensation on your index finger too.

.

“Excuse me,” a voice whispered, accompanied by a soft tap on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, she lightly shook your shoulder.

You flinched awake and she furrowed her brows. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you, but it’s closing time and…” She trailed off. 

You couldn’t believe Rosé from Blackpink, global kpop star and ambassador, was in front of you. You took note of the khaki, bear-printed apron she wore along with a name tag,p: the café’s uniform. But more importantly, why was she so much prettier up close? Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and a couple strands were left out to frame her face. Her eyes were a soft but narrow shape, giving them a natural innocent look, and her nose was perfectly straight and sculpted. The bit of freckles that graced her nose and cheeks made her even more breathtaking.

The ever so reddening of her cheeks let you know that you were staring far too long. 

You quickly stood up and unhooked your backpack from the wooden chair, slinging it over your back. “I’m sorry,” you apologized almost immediately, as if it’s out of habit. Your eyes darted back to the floor, and she felt her heart break. 

Something clearly wasn’t right. 

“I’ll leave now…thank you for waking me up.” Without waiting for her response you started to walk away, unable to endure her curious gaze any longer. Though, a hand wrapping itself around your wrist stops you in your actions, and prompts a quiet gasp to leave your lips. Her touch was electric. You turned back around, trying not to dwell on the warmth encasing your wrist, and faced her. 

Why did she just grab you? She, too, looked shocked. Her cheeks dusted with a light pink as she looked away from you. Did she feel it too? 

Looking down, she noticed the harsh blobs of purple and green peeking out from your hoodie sleeve and her heart jumped for a whole different reason. They were shaped like fingerprints— like someone grabbed you violently. At the realization, she was momentarily rendered speechless. 

She only had one thing on her mind, and it wouldn't be right if she ignored it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked down briefly before looking you straight in the eyes. Her eyes soft with concern, she asked, “Are you okay?” Immediately, you tensed up. You inhaled sharply, attempting to steady yourself by taking deep breaths. “You’re hurt. Who did this to you?” She pressed.

There it was. You could feel tears building at the corners of your eyes, and she definitely noticed. You tried to speak, but your tongue felt too heavy to form coherent words. “I— I’m…” You're fine? You injured yourself?

“Please tell me, I need to know.” Her voice was stern yet laced with a gently concern. You weren’t getting out of this. Her hand loosened its grip, but didn't fully let go. Did she know you would bolt the moment she did?

Your vision started to blur, and you blinked rapidly against the incoming stream of tears. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together. One part of you wanted to tell her, wanted to spill everything, the other held you back and wanted to tell a lie. You shouldn’t burden her. You could take care of yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to utter those words.

Noticing your inner turmoil, Rosé backtracked, and apologies were leaving her mouth in a rapid rush. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. That was very rude of me. I’m Chaeyoung. You are?”

You sniffled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “…(Y/n).”

She smiled lightly. “(Y/n)? Your name is beautiful, I love it. Now… I know I was really forward just now, but I’m worried about you. I can’t just leave this unattended, I— I want to help you…if that’s alright.”

“Help?” You repeated quietly. The word felt foreign on your tongue, even more so hearing it applied to your situation. Usually people looked the other way, not wanting to get involved or merely too scared to. And you’ve gotten so used to it that you felt you weren’t deserving of help. Now, you bitterly wondered why it took so long to come to you, especially in times of need.

“Yes. Do you want my help?” She asked again, softer.

God, yes. Yes, you want help. You could only nod your head, a quiet sob leaving your lips. You hid your face, self-conscious in front of her. Suddenly, you're engulfed in a warmth, such a comforting embrace, and it only makes the tears fall harder. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, letting you cry into her chest. She was taller than you, her chin resting delicately upon the crown of your head. The feeling of being cared for washed over you, easing your stress for a minute, allowing you to take some time to calm down. Her scent filled your lungs, and you could have sworn you smelled a floral mixed with vanilla. 

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away and managed to whisper a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Now, can I know what’s going on in order to help you better?”

After that short moment, you told her - a stranger you surprisingly felt you could trust - everything. You told her about your parents, getting chased as you tried to leave the house, and the origin of the bruises. You kept it brief, however, and once you explained the details of your situation she offered to take you to the hotel she was staying at.

You were hesitant to leave the café, fearing your family was searching the streets for you, she called her manager to get the two of you and you waited inside. While waiting, she asked you a few things about yourself and exchanged some things about her. 

You learned that she had a “complicated" job that left her restless at night, hence why she was helping out at her friend's café. She was humble to a fault, telling you about her friends and how grateful she is to have the opportunities she has now, too. 

It wasn’t long before her manager, a young-looking, friendly woman, greeted you when Chaeyoung opened the car door and the both of you slid in. You’re not good at small talk, but she was a natural at it. It wasn’t long before the conversation flowed freely and you didn’t have to pretend. She made you comfortable.

There was a lull in the air, the only noise being the car’s engine grumbling and the wind whipping by the slightly lowered window. She turned to face you fully, and you shifted in your seat from her gaze. “Do you know who I am?”

You bit your tongue at the question, not expecting it— at least, not this soon. (Was it obvious?) “I do. I mean, I may have seen your face on a few products and billboards.” You pinched at the fabric of your pants, not realizing you were beginning to frown. “Is that okay? I’m not trying to...” Intrude; leach; burden. 

She cut your rambling short with a chuckle. “That’s fine,” she assured. “It doesn’t change anything. I want to do this.” It honestly scared her how much she wanted to help you. 

She has been warned multiple times about “normal people”. 

They’re different, all they see is your fame, you on the stage, what you have and what they don’t. 

She has been used because of her kindness, taken advantage of and lied to. Threatened, even. But somehow she knew you weren’t like them. She was acting on a feeling she couldn’t explain. 

The feeling she has searched for her whole career, perhaps. She pushed the thought to the back of her brain— it was the least of her worries. Now, she needed to make sure you felt safe.

.

You expected she stayed at a quality hotel, but just seeing it— such a large, grandice building, was mind blowing. It was nestled between a street lined with high end brands and local restaurants, drawing eyes. Nonetheless, you didn’t feel any envy towards her. You knew she had worked hard to get to this point in life. 

You followed closely behind Chaeyoung, the guards at their post by the main entrance, intimating you with their blank expressions and bold stances. They gave her a singular nod as she passed, their eyes lingering on you for a few moments with masked confusion. You smiled wryly, imagining how it must look to others, and readjusted the facemask her manager had given you. 

You didn’t want to cause any problems for her.

Chaeyoung was a natural at conversing with people, something you lacked in, greeting the receptionist with a smile and small talk. She had just finished laughing at a joke. “Is there another room available on the same floor as mine?” She asked, glancing at you. You furrowed your brows, confusion reflected in your eyes.

The receptionist clicked around the computer for a moment. “Yes, there is. Are you trying to rent it?”

“I am,” she replied. 

“Okay can you state the guest name and residency? Or are you buying it in your name?”

“In my name—“

“No!” You blurt suddenly, coming closer to the counting. You turned to her, shaking your head. “I can…I can pay for it, Chaeyoung. You’ve already done enough for me. I can’t ask you to do anything more.” There was something in your voice, pleading, which caught her off guard. Why were you so against it? 

She tilted her head quizzically, her lips pursed together. Oh, she would spoil you. She smiled. “No, I can’t let you do that.”

You were flustered, calculating how much she would have to pay: a whole lot. It was definitely pricey for your current funds, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have to stay long… “But it’s only right—-“

”I want to. So please accept, okay?” 

Realizing she wasn’t going to back down, you gave up. (For now). “…You’ll at least let me pay you back after, right?” You really didn’t like owing people.

She pretends to think about it for a moment. “Nope, c’mon.” She grabs the keys from the lady and leads you to the elevator. 

The ride was silent, and Chaeyoung didn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. On the other hand, she realized you had a lot going through your mind. That much was obvious from your lack of expression.  

Once she returned to her suite, she would contact Alice or her family for connections to lawyers. Abuse was a touchy subject, getting you to open up would be difficult…

.

The suite was luxurious— spacious and lavishly decorated with high-end furniture, plush carpets, and drapery. The living room was furnished with comfortable sofas, armchairs, and a coffee table. The large windows offered breathtaking views of the surrounding city. Further in, the bedroom featured a king-sized bed with premium linens and soft pillows, and the lighting is carefully curated, creating a warm environment. The bathroom had marble floors and walls, a deep soaking tub, and a separate rainfall shower. 

You re-entered the living space, completely shook. Wasn’t this too much? 

Chaeyoung sat on one of the island chairs, swirling around. “Nice, isn’t it? I recently started booking with this place. They have 24-hour room service and a private chef upon request. There’s also a private lounge, spa, and fitness center— but I hardly have time to use those services anyways...” 

“It’s… definitely nice.” You couldn’t begin to imagine the price for one day— 

“I’m happy you think so, I want you to be comfortable. Are you hungry?” She was already grabbing her phone as she asked, a pamphlet in her hand.

You shook your head, only to be betrayed by your stomach rumbling. She laughed, and the sound made your heart stutter in your chest without warning. She had a cute smile on her face as she beckoned you over. “Not hungry, hm?” She teased. 

“Maybe a little,” You said then, your face heating up slightly due to the embarrassment. She smiled wider, typing in the Suite’s website and clicking on food service. 

“What would you like? This place is really famous for their pastas and stews, but they have almost everything here.” She started listing off items, going from the most popular to the lesser popular dishes (they’re all expensive either way). Halfway through the selections you stopped her, finding a simple meal that was the least expensive yet filling. 

“Can you add the pho and salad to the order? I’m paying for it. You don’t need to spend more than necessary on me.” A stranger.

She frowned at that. “But I’m treating you, still.” 

“I know…but you’ve really done enough for me. I can’t ask for more,” you were adamant. 

“You can,” She emphasized. “In fact, I want you to. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I was the one who wanted to bring you here, and I have more money than I know what to do with, so let me pay for your things, please. I want to do this, let me take care of you.” 

You bit into your tongue, mulling over the situation. You knew at this point she wouldn’t let anything go, she’d just insist, and insist, and insist, coaxing you to comply with her lovely smile, and her kind eyes, and her gentle tone that never fails to have you feeling so warm.

“Okay, fine,” You said, and immediately a smile was pulling at her lips, that cheerful mood she had before coming back as soon as it faded. “On one condition: you at least let me pay for the food— yours too.”

“But—”

“I need to do something useful, Chaeyoung. It’s killing me, so just this once, please.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agreed, almost hesitant to even let you type in your card for the order. “Just this once, and this time only.” 

“Yes, yes, thank you,” You finally smiled. 

The hotel staff didn’t take long preparing your orders, which is likely expected of such a fancy place like this. The servers came in with a trolly and placed the meals on the table. It looked and smelt delicious, and you and Chaeyoung ate right away. 

Sometime while eating, Chaeyoung called for your attention. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You paused, bringing the utensil away from your mouth. You took in a breath, steeling your emotions. “No.” 

She almost choked. “Can I ask why not?”

At that question you became quiet. Even more so than before. Soulmates— there it is again.

Everyone seems to talk about soulmates; finding their perfect someone, and it seems Chaeyoung is one of them. “I don’t.” You answered, smiling wryly. “A long awaited destiny finding your other half? It’s…it’s really nothing but a fairytale.” 

“Oh. Yeah… I guess it’s a little childish.” Once you saw her expression drop more, that look of concern on her face, you glanced away and started stuffing your cheeks with rice again. You shouldn’t feel guilty for opposing the idea— everyone’s entitled to their own options, yet the crestfallen look on her face gave you a pang to your heart. You felt you needed to explain why, and you did. 

“No,I didn’t mean it like that… it’s not childish to believe in. I just— I know they’re real; and it’s great if you find yours and you’re happy,” you began, finding it hard to express yourself. “I just think the system isn’t fair.” What you didn’t say, however, is that sometimes it’s a waste of hoping and dreaming. You’re bound to get tired of it, to give up after a while. And giving up hurts the most, because it means accepting you won’t have that happiness.

“I see,” She murmured, given your response. She smiled again, but you could tell it was lacking. “Well, let’s finish eating. The food is getting cold.“

“Right.” You both ate in silence after that. The mood was heavy, filled with awkwardness, uncertainty, and just— something. You didn’t understand why, however. Why is she so caught up on that rare concept? Why does she care if you believe in it or not? You really couldn’t understand her. 

.

Chaeyoung was standing outside the door, returning to her own suite. “I sent you a text from my real number. If you need anything— don’t hesitate to call me, no matter the time. I’m just down the hallway.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Then she left you alone to your own devices. 

You decided going to sleep would be the best course of action. You avoided checking your phone, worried that even though you’ve turned off your location they’d still find you. 

Just sitting on the king-sized bed made you drowsy, and you were glad Chaeyoung was helping you, because it surely made you feel safer. It wasn’t long before your eyes grew heavy and your breathing evened out, and you were happy to sleep peacefully.

However, it was short lived by rapid-paced banging on the door. Still in the bedroom, you heard the door knob jiggling aggressively, and a few murmured voices. You flinched, immediately reached for your phone to dial a number. It rings twice before she picks up. “Hello? Chaeyoung?” You call anxiously, circling your knees up to your chest as you sit on your bed. 

“Yeah?” She answers lightly, her voice evident of sleep, and as much as you’d hate to rip her from her sleep, even if she said she didn’t mind, but you had a problem. 

“Someone’s—someone’s banging on my door. I don’t know what to do. What if they get inside? What if it’s my mom? What if they hurt me? I tried calling the security but I got no answer. I’m scared.” 

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll be over there right away. Stay in your room for now, okay?” Chaeyoung hurried down the hallway, mindful to not keep you waiting.

In front of your door, a man in a suit slumped against the wall, the hotel staff fussing over him. “Sir, you’re drunk! You’re disturbing our guests, this is not your room. Let us…”

She let out a sigh of relief, knowing the problem wasn’t serious— but still felt tense knowing you weren’t aware of the situation. When the staff got the man off his butt, she knocked on your suite door. “It’s just me. I’m coming in, okay?” With that, she cracked open the door slowly. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw you curled up into a tight ball, crying softly in your bed. Without hesitation, she walked over to the corner of your room where you sat, taking a seat beside you. You leaned back into her arms with a sniffle, looking at her with tears welling up in your eyes. The sight made her want to hold you tighter. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing your back. “It was just a confused man, he had mistaken the room number.”

“…Really?” You sniffled and pulled away slightly, half-embarrassed you’re relying on her again, half not wanting to leave her arms. She made you feel safe. 

“Yes, the staff took care of it right away. I’m sorry you had to experience that…” She was frowning, frustrated it had to be your room, that you were probably scared out of your sleep because of it, and that it might’ve resurfaced some of your trauma. It pulled on her heartstrings seeing you so shaken up and anxious. 

“Oh,” you nodded, instantly feeling calmer at the news. “That’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed. 

You quietly cleared your throat, realizing the death grip you had on her shirt. Heat spreaded across your nape and face. In front of Chaeyoung, you felt like a middle schooler with a crush all over again. “Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“For what?” She asked. 

You fiddled with your fingers unconsciously, avoiding her soft gaze. Did she truly not know? “For coming here— for everything.” 

Chaeyoung wanted to shake her head and deny it— she did it out of her own violation, afterall, but instead accepted your gratitude. “Of course.”

Something has been on her mind for a while— your presence demanded her full attention; and despite not knowing each other for more than two days, you’ve managed to make her a mess— she felt like she'd do anything for you. 

“What’s that on your finger?” She asked, her voice a low murmur.  It was a red string, tied into a neat little bow, the other linking end tightly wound around her own finger. Her lips parted in shock, realization donning her features. 

“What do you…?” You looked at your finger, only for your words to die in your throat. You stared at the foreign string, heart pounding in your chest and blood rushing in your ears. It couldn’t be.

“You’re my soulmate,” she murmured, sounding so undeniably happy. 

“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. It was useless, though, because the evidence was there. You suddenly felt the need to escape Chaeyoung’s embrace— your soulmates embrace. Before you could attempt to get any farther, another step— there were a pair of arms quickly wrapping around you, pulling you against a familiar chest in a tight, tight, tight embrace. It's warm, unyielding, and you were trapped completely— you couldn't get away even if you fought. "Chaeyoung," you started, sucking in shaky breaths, trying to not get drunk by the close proximity. "Y-You said I'm—I'm yours. Your—soulmate?" You get out, half coherent and half blubbering.

She understood you nonetheless, and hummed in acknowledgment, holding you a little bit tighter. "I did," She confirmed. You hadn't even realized that you’d started crying— but you were, and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks. They're salty, and they're bitter with disappointment, yet above all they're filled with relief.

You’re soulmates, she said.

The rare, one-time chance concept of being a fated pair— having someone in the world that was meant for you and you alone, your complete significant other, where the world pulled you toward them until that bond is broken by choice. It was a lot to process, and it changed just about everything, but—

“I’m here, and we can take this at whatever pace you want. I know it’s hard, very sudden, but… I want this. I want you, if you're willing to accept me.” 

…. ⚠️

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Chaeyoung told you, following behind you to your shared bedroom, admiring the way your dress hugged your body. It was a black fitted dress that showed off your shoulders and figure. Your hair was tied up loosely with a pink ribbon. 

She changed after the show, wearing something much more comfortable, but still looked amazing. 

You flushed, beginning to take your jewelry off at the vanity.  “That’s the fifth time you’ve told me that,” you said, a smile present on your face. “But thank you, it makes me really happy.  I should say I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were dancing. It made me….” You trailed off, finding it too bold to confess. Over the course of six months, she’s worked her way into your heart almost effortlessly, supporting and loving you every step of the way. Everyday you're grateful that you were able to meet, even if the way you met wasn’t romantic. 

“Made you what?” Rosie stood behind you and rested her hands on your hips. Unable to help herself, she  bent down to kiss your exposed neck. You closed your eyes, sighing softly as she kissed the side of your throat. “It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, and she sank her teeth into your skin, causing you to gasp. “Ah— Chaeyoung…”

“Tell me, baby.” Her voice held that tone again, the one that had you shivering under her touch, aching for more. 

Knowing you couldn’t convey it through words, you turned around in her arms and wrapped your own around her neck, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you remembered how she moved to some of their songs’ sensual choreographies and the control she had while doing so. She kissed back, deep and languid. Her palm was hot, sliding over your curves and leaving behind a searing sensation. You broke away from the kiss, your breath coming out ragged as you  looked into her eyes, her pupils dilated. “That’s how you make me feel,” you whispered into the little space between you. 

She responded by pulling you into another heated kiss. The vibrations of your moans against her mouth made her heart hammer in her chest as she began to lift your dress up slightly, wanting to feel your thighs on her hands again. 

Breath hitching roughly in her throat, Chaeyoung felt the tip of your tongue flick at the seam before sliding across its full length. She let you push your tongue past her lips, feeling herself losing herself in the moment, completely surrendering to the sensations coursing through her. (Kissing you seemed to do that to her).

Lips sliding and pressing against each other, tongues touching and tangling, you felt weak in the knees. You squeezed her arm, “Chaeyoung,” you said in between kisses, tugging at her shirt.

She groaned, the breathy sound of her name and the authoritative, low tone coming from you sent tingles rippling down her spine and left her feeling lightheaded.

With one last lingering kiss, she pulled away and led you to the bed by your hand. You laid down first, reaching for her and pulling her towards you. She crawled onto the bed after you, kissing you again. Your fingers played with her hair, combed gently through the locks. “This feels good,” you said quietly, tilting your head for more access, feeling a sense of contentment, desire, and love welling up inside of you. You felt her pause and smile against your skin. 

While busying herself with making pretty marks on your neck, her fingers traced along your bare thigh, making you writhe beneath her, and she reveled in how sensitive you were to her touch. 

She groaned at the slight tug from your fingers threading themselves in her hair as she continued to kiss your neck. “We can stop anytime...”

"No,” You said almost too quickly, gasping when you felt her bite you lightly, teeth nipping at your neck before a tongue soothed the area. "Please, don't stop.” You were ready to go all the way tonight.

Chaeyoung’s heart could burst out of her chest in that moment, knowing that you were ready for the next step, that between soulmates it would make the bond even stronger. She made her way up and kissed you again, now with a fever and tenderness that had a growing hunger.

Your fingernails dug into her back when she darted her tongue slow and deep across the roof of your mouth— in and out, over and over, in a way that made you instantly imagine her mouth traveling elsewhere. The idea alone got you riled up. 

"Chaeyoung, please.." you gasped against her lips as another wave of heat circled through your abdomen and pulsed between your legs. 

"We've got time, my love," She slotted a leg between your thighs, pressing against your center purposefully. “I'm all yours tonight." Her hand slipped between your bodies, hiking up your mini-dress just enough for her to have access to your lace panties.

You gasped and tightened your grip in her hair, subconsciously bucking your hips the moment her fingers brushed across your center. A wave of pleasure overtook your body, and you could feel her edging to dip her fingers lower. It wasn’t long before she felt how soaked you were, how wet she made you, forcing a stifled moan from her throat that vibrated against your lips. You whimpered, tightening your thighs around her hand at the sound.

Knowing what you needed, she quickly discarded your underwear, and dipped a finger in you, making you shudder and squirm. Giving you a few moments to adjust, she watched your face for any signs of discomfort before pumping in and out. You lifted your hips off the bed to meet her pace, her finger reaching deeper with each slow, tantalizing pump. 

You could barely think straight with how intense everything suddenly became, and it only intensified as she added a second finger, pumping faster. There was a coil building in your stomach, moments away from snapping. “Chaeyoung— I’m gonna—” You panted heavily, your face burning, eyes closed tightly. With every stroke, your walls contracted tightly around her finger, making her curse under her breath. "Fuck, love. You're so tight... Are you close?”  

You nodded against her shoulder frantically, nails digging into her back.  

“Then come for me,” she murmured, adding her thumb in the mix to push you over the edge, her fingers relentless, as you arched forward, the pressure in your lower stomach building to such an extent you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your whole body trembled, incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth, your entire body shaking as an orgasm ripped through you. 

All the while Chaeyoung slowed the pace, your body writhing underneath her hand as she pumped in and out, her fingers gliding across your sensitive spot as she watched you come apart for her, helping you ride it out. She felt breathless, and absolutely loved seeing you like that; all flushed and sweaty, needy for her. You're her Angel— her soulmate. 

She kissed you, slow and sweet. “There, love. I’ve got you,” she cooed softly. “I love you, you did so well.”

You reached up, cupping her cheeks, loving the way your soulmate looked at you. “Just give me a moment,” you said, smiling. “It’ll be your turn next.”

[atimeofyourlife]

Wake up every morning to this groundhog day

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: time travel au | rated: t | wc: 552 | tags: time loop au, pre steddie Steve gets stuck in a time loop, but is he the only one? Title from Rio by Mika

The first day, Steve thought it had been a weird dream when he woke up to everything being the exact same as it had been the day before. He tried his best to convince himself, despite the fact he felt like he was repeating everything he'd done the day before, the strangest sense of deja vu.

But then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Soon enough, Steve had lived a week of the same day. Waking up to the clothes he'd worn the day before clean in his closet again. The leftovers he'd eaten for dinner were back in the refrigerator. The weed he'd purchased was gone from the pocket of his bag, the money he'd spent on it tucked in it's place. It was really starting to freak him out, but he knew he couldn't bring it up to anyone without them thinking he was insane. Not that he had many people to bring it up to, he no longer spoke to Tommy and Carol, everything was awkward with Nancy since the break up, and there was no way in hell he was going to mention it to the kids, because they would convince themselves that it was somehow Upside Down related and panic and throw themselves into trouble.

So, for the most part, he just tried to follow the motions. Hoping that it would resolve itself. He kept a look out to see if there were any tiny details that changed in each repetition of the day, but came up blank. Even if he tried to change parts of his routine, skipping buying weed, skipping school, changing where and what he ate, it didn't make much difference. He still kept waking up to the same day over and over again.

He ended up buying and smoking weed everyday. It helped calm him down, stop him from freaking out so much. He guessed that because the day kept resetting itself, the weed disappeared from his system when the time moved back. And it wasn't like he was wasting tons of money on it, was he was spending the same money each day, he'd even memorized the serial numbers on the bills, checking them each morning.

"Jesus Christ, Harrington. Chill, you seem so on edge today." Eddie said as he watched Steve from the picnic bench in the woods. Steve had stumbled into the clearing for the daily deal, feeling more and more out of it each day.

"Sorry. I just. I feel like I'm going insane." Steve mumbled, dropping to sit on the opposite side of the bench. He buried his face in his arms.

"I've been feeling like that ever since I started high school." Eddie replied, pulling out baggies of weed from his metal lunchbox. "Tell me what's going on, if I'm feeling generous I might throw in a little extra for free."

"It's. I keep living the same day over and over and over and over. Everyday, it's the Third of April, and it's been like that for so long I've lost count. No matter what I do, nothing changes. I just wake up the next day and it's the Third of April again."

Eddie didn't say anything for a few moments, instead just watching Steve closely. Then finally, "It's been happening to you too?"

[missmilliegojo]

Ai No Saikyou

Prologue

A Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfiction (Gojo X OC)

Warnings -> SPOILERS for Jujutsu Kaisen 0

TOKYO, NOVEMBER 2016

The short heels of Millie's combat boots echo down the hallway as she makes her way to the first-year classroom. It's been years since her enrollment at Jujutsu High as a student, but the dim, depressing hallways haven't changed. They still sent shivers down her spine as if something lurked in the shadows, as if death was waiting around the next corner to swallow her whole. Though, really, that's not too different from her everyday life. Or what used to be her everyday life, anyway.

Coming to a stop outside the classroom, Millie takes in a deep breath before knocking on the door. The pamphlets in her hands suddenly feel heavy, anxiety squeezing her heart like a stress ball.

'This is so silly.' She thought to herself, tugging on the hem of her blouse. Was she dressed professionally enough? 'I used to exorcise curses for a living, and I'm nervous about addressing a classroom full of teenagers?'

The door slides open, and although she expected the man on the other side, the sight of him still made her breath hitch. Tall and handsome, dressed in black, fluffy white hair on his head and eyes hidden behind a blindfold made of white bandages, Satoru Gojo holds the crown for the most attractive man she's ever seen. Her heart leaps, but that's as far as it gets before she beats the emotion down.

Professional. For the sake of her job, she has to remain professional.

Satoru's lips curl into a massive grin, flashing his pearly white, perfectly aligned teeth. "It's my lovely wife!"

A chorus of groans spills from inside the classroom.

"Satoru." Millie scolds, narrowing her gaze. "We talked about this."

His grin drops, lower lip pushing into a pout. "But, honeyyyyy..."

Pushing past him, Millie flashes her kindest smile at the single row of students that made up the first-year class. Given how rare jujutsu sorcerers are, classes are, normally, rather small.

"Good morning, everyone. Pardon the interruption." Setting the pamphlets down on the corner of her husband's desk, Millie sets her undivided attention on the students: a platinum blond boy, a green haired girl, and a panda. "For the sake of formalities, allow me to re-introduce myself. I'm Millie Gojo, and as of today, I will be Jujutsu High's official guidance counselor."

So far, it seems to be going well. Maki Zen’in appears disinterested, Toge Inumaki is a more difficult character to read, given that only the top half of his face is visible, and Panda was leaning forward in his seat with a smile. In character for all three teenagers.

Seeing them this way shot a boost of confidence into Millie's system. "It's no secret that jujutsu sorcerers experience a lot of trauma in their line of work, and there aren't many resources available to help sorcerers process and work through their trauma. I want to change that. Speaking from my own experience, our mental health can only be put on the back burner for so long before it starts to catch up to us. Treating it sooner rather than later could mean all the difference in your survival."

Her words aren't as sugary as another counselors may have been, but Millie isn't just any counselor. She's a counselor for jujutsu sorcerers, children and adults who put their lives on the line to exorcise curses in hopes of a safer future. These people witness gruesome scenes, have watched friends and partners die, have lost parts of themselves to the job. It's terrifying work, and that's why she doesn't believe in sugarcoating. These kids already know what they've signed themselves up for, so why hide it behind pretty words? They know the truth of this world, and they'll be more trusting if she respects that.

"My office is located in the same hallway as the teacher's longue, the last room on the end. I'll be here Monday through Friday, from nine to five. I will also be working electronically with our sister school in Kyoto. If you would like to speak with me, you're welcome to swing by, or you can submit an appointment request through the mailbox outside my office. There is also a whiteboard that will display my availability throughout the week should you wish to book an appointment in advance. Everything we discuss will be confidential, however, safety is also my responsibility. Should a student show signs of being a danger to themselves or others, it is my duty to report it to Principal Yaga and your teacher. Any questions?"

Panda raises a paw. "Do you accept cursed corpses?"

Millie's smile brightens. "Every kind of sorcerer is welcome in my office, Panda."

Inumaki also raises a hand. "Mustard leaf?"

"I'm sure we can find an effective communication method that will work for you, Inumkai."

"I have a question!" Satoru exclaims from where he had been leaning against the wall, watching his wife give her speech. "Are you by chance open to faculty?"

Millie knows her husband too well to miss the playful notes dancing in his tone. She straightens and offers him an I'm-going-to-withhold-your-dessert-if-you-don't-knock-it-off smile. "Staff members are welcome to visit me, so long as they take our session seriously, Gojo."

The man gasps, sputtering as his hand flies over his wounded heart. "G-G-G-Gojo?!"

Ignoring his antics, Millie turns back to the students. "Thank you for your time and attention this morning, everyone. I'm looking forward to assisting you."

Millie slips out of the classroom and pats herself on the back. One class down, two more in-person and three more virtual speeches to go.

Hues of gold and orange shine into the cozy office through the open window, bringing with it a gentle breeze that makes the curtains sway. Millie soaks in the feel of her office again, wondering for the thousandth time if it was a calming enough environment for anyone who came by to speak with her. She repainted the depressing walls to a light beige that brought some brightness to the room. Potted plants filled each corner, a long comfy couch placed in the middle of the room with a matching chair across from it, a low set glass coffee table and a floral rug placed between the two. Her desk and a small bookshelf were set close to the far wall, a clock mounted above them to help her keep track of time The last thing she wants to do is rush anyone who came to see her, but she also has to make sure to be on time for others who request her help.

The end of her first day is almost upon her, and every meeting she had went better than she thought it would. Introducing mental health to jujutsu sorcerers, teenagers at that, was going to take time. No one has made an appointment with her yet, but Millie knows that these things can't be forced. When they're ready, they'll come to her, and she'll welcome them warmly.

A knock on the door catches Millie by surprise. Her day would be over in about thirty minutes, but if someone has come to talk to her, then she would stay late without question.

A sense of urgency has her rising from her desk and rushing to the door. She calmly slides it open, and the person on the other side both surprises her and doesn't. "Satoru?"

He's slouched over, that same pout from earlier still stuck on his face. "I don't think my wife loves me anymore."

Resisting the urge to sigh, Millie steps aside to let him in. She watches her husband flop down onto the couch before taking a seat across from him, crossing one leg over the other. "What makes you feel that way, Satoru?"

The man sniffles. "She hasn't kissed me since this morning, and she called me Gojo. Can you believe that? It's like I'm a stranger to her all of a sudden!"

Usually, this teasing behavior struck a cord of laughter in her. However, she's on the clock, and even if her husband is fooling around, she'd go about this as if he were anyone else. "Satoru, have you considered that maybe your wife loves you so much, she has to act professionally during school hours to spare herself from getting into trouble?"

His sniffles stop. "Do you really think so?"

"I do."

Suddenly, Satoru is kneeling before her with his head in her lap, his long arms wrapped around her waist in an embrace. "Oh, my love! I'll never doubt you again!"

This time, Millie can't help but sigh. Still, she smiles and rans a hand through his soft hair. "I love you, Satoru."

"I know." He looks up at her with a cocky grin. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

Playfully, she shakes her head. "You are so- mmm."

Satoru's sudden kiss swallows the rest of her words. Giggling against his lips, Millie cups his head between her hands and returns the loving gesture. The aquamarine stone on her left ring finger, held in place by a silver band, catches the golden light beautifully.

Millie suddenly remembers that they're in her office and tilts her chin up, laughing at the needy whine her husband lets out. "You can have more kisses at home. We promised Yaga he wouldn't catch us making out on campus again."

Despite the bandages covering his brows, Millie could tell he was wiggling them. "There are some spots he never found out about. We can go back to one of those."

"Yeah, no." She gently pushes his forehead. "I'm not trying to get fired my first day on the job."

Her husband grins, but this one is different from the one he showed her before. It's not as carefree, and the air around them suddenly gets a little heavier. "Speaking of your first day on the job, there's someone who could really use your help, sweets."

An invisible hand squeezes her heart like a stress ball. For as long as she's known him, Satoru Gojo has shouldered the burdens of their world on his own two shoulders. Despite being together for nine years, six of which as a married couple, it's still a rare occurrence for him to request aid on anything related to jujutsu. Satoru Gojo, after all, is the strongest.

Millie took his large hand in both of hers, giving it a squeeze. "What can I do?"

Millie Gojo retired from combat three years ago, but for her husband and the students she's come to love as her own, she'd go to war.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ->

[amaiguri]

How do people use magic/abilities/special tech/etc. to improve the mundane parts of their everyday lives?

You know, I was just telling one of my friends that I need to do a Tech Development Edit on my world. I have a soft idea about it but it needs to firm up into order to work with the plot.

So the tl;dr on my Magic System in Yssaia is that it's chaos theory -- little Ysse particles bounce around when they hit each other in certain ways, magic HAPPENS. Creatures only see these particles if they drop an eye into the Abyss below the world, however. And even then, sometimes it randomly doesn't work. So. It's quite the trade-off.

As such, with magic, many technological advances have happened sooner for them than in our world -- such as ice boxes and water heaters and automatic kettles and even airships. BUT there's many things they don't know AND they don't have the ability to mass manufacture all these things they know about.

Or rather... they didn't. No one has specifically mentioned it, but the assembly line WAS just invented.

So MORE people have access to fresh meat and dairy and clean water year round and some rich people have telegram lines to fight wars BUT we just figured out how to mass create flamethrowers too. So, I'd put us in the 1700s in our world, but with many modern conveniences available to some. The average person's life is improving but wars are also much more violent wars -- so we're having a bit of First and Second World War moment! Tee hee, whoops -- nukes!

[rewritingtrauma]

Toxic Shame

***Trigger Warnings***

It's like a gross, oily monster who lives in and on you - translating every word and interaction into something darker, more sinister, undermining of your self hood. At night, as you drift off to sleep, the monster drops filthy, oozing piles of the stuff from the ceiling - spattering your pillow with unpleasant moments from your past, words spoken or written, now embalmed in the suffocating slime of it. It ties you up in oily knots, prevents you from leaving the house. It turns small things into world-ending events, it sucks you in to the bog of eternal stench, it haunts your dreams, nightmares, waking world. It tells you it knows you, it sees right inside you: it knows that you aren't good enough, that you don't deserve anything, that you will never amount to anything. It is quick to tell you how you don't measure up to your peers, to expectations, to standard. Sometimes, it wells up and bursts forth like a geyser: You may be doing something banal and everyday like taking a shower or putting away the laundry when suddenly it's choking you, bursting out of your mouth, filling your vision with oily darkness. My partner has learnt to identify those moments when shame spontaneously explodes "out of nowhere you squeak or make little animal sounds" he tells me. It's the sounds of a small person, a child or an animal, drowning in it.

Toxic shame is a consequence of the damage done to our perception by early trauma, often and specifically, by shame itself: either direct, indirect (shame by proxy), or through neglect. Toxic shame colors everything - it effects how we see and understand ourselves, other people, the world, reality. It is a big factor in what leads many survivors of childhood trauma to substance abuse, OCD, eating disorders, poverty, self harm, and suicide. For me, shame has been the biggest factor in all of this, and so much more.

The Clinical Social Worker and Childhood Trauma specialist Patrick Teahan describes shame as existing on a spectrum, where healthy shame exists in the middle; a useful, natural, and reasonable response to our making mistakes; while too much (toxic) shame hovers at one end of the spectrum; and too little (or no) shame at the opposite end. Often people who experience toxic shame had a parent(s), or caregiver(s) who had unhealthy relationships with shame themselves - expressing/experiencing too much, too little, or oscillating between extremes. Unfortunately, apart from in the very rare instance where those parent(s) or caregiver(s) were willing and able to undertake extensive therapy (or family therapy), this unhealthy manifestation of, and reactions to, shame remain unaddressed and pass on to their children, effecting not only the child's development but usually continuing in to their adult lives. In learning how to rewrite my own trauma, and to heal not only the mental, emotional, and social wounds but also the physical/nervous system damage I am experiencing through Chronic Health conditions, I have come to realize that I have some big and extensive work to do with the shame monster...

What follows here is my "Homework" which Patrick Teahan sets in part two of this video series: he basically invites you to give examples of where the three types of shame (direct, indirect and by neglect) manifested in your childhood, then to write about how one of these would have been different with a healthy parent, and lastly, to write about how this type of shame effects your beliefs and reactions now. I don't expect you to keep reading, in fact this in itself is a big shame trigger but a part of me senses it is important, too, as this is the work of rewriting trauma, of rewriting shame not as us, as reality but as a consequence of harms done to us. Hopefully, in doing this work (and by "this work" I don't just mean this piece of homework, but all of it) we can take ownership of our healing and rewriting our futures. If any of this resonates, I invite you to watch the videos and consider trying your own homework, too.

Here if you want to talk.

With love and solidarity,

Iris x

Patrick Teahan's Shame Homework - 09.10.23

Direct Shame

Write in detail (3 to 4 examples) where you were directly shamed and/or blamed by your parents unfairly (remember that kids need guidance from birth to age 20/21 to establish healthy experiences of shame).

Most days from around the age of 9 or 10 and every day from the age of 16 my dad used to tell me that I was "fat", "stupid", "a waste of space", and/or "deserved to die". He would always do this when we were alone - either when I had just got back from school or, from age 16, when I was in the car with him as he picked me up from college. It was often accompanied by him shouting/screaming, drinking and smoking weed, often terrifying/terrorising me with the threat of death (to the point that I started to wish for it/will it to happen to end the suffering and protect my mum and sister from him). On one particular instance, I think I was 17 but maybe 16, he drove us a long way off the route home - 10's of miles out of Cumbria and into the Scottish Borders - to an unfamiliar pine forest. He started driving very slowly then, scanning the forest. He didn't say anything but I knew what he meant and believed he was planning on killing me and finding a spot to dispose of my body. Something similar happened to me a couple of years later when I was living in Derry (aged 19) and a taxi driver who had picked me up from my job at Altnagelvin Hospital drove me right out into the countryside beyond Derry (miles and miles out of the way). The driver didn't say anything, but his message was the same - as an English person in Derry, I deserved to die.

After our dad left, and while I was briefly living back at the house we grew up in with my mum, she used to work herself up into a furore every morning before she drove us to work and college: she wouldn't be able to find her keys or glasses and would blame me, every time. It became like a horrible ritual. She would never apologise after finding her belongings and the implication was always the same - it was my fault.

Whilst this became a joke between my sister and me as young adults, it was really painful as a child because I was the scape goat for almost everything that went awry or went missing in our house. One specific time which stands out to me is when I was about 15 my mum had made some sloe gin and it all got drunk. She immediately blamed me and so did my dad, metering out the punishment . I swore blind I hadn't taken it but no one believed me and it was brought up, frequently, as a reason to shame me/make me do things - to atone for my guilt in this theft. Years later, someone (an adult neighbour) told my mum that my dad had brought the gin to a party at their house and they had all drunk it. My mum never apologised. My dad (no surprises) never apologised. The neighbour (no surprises) never apologised.

When my sister was 3 and I was 5 our mum fell down the stairs and shattered her leg. We were sent away to our grandparents for a fortnight after. When we came home, we were at home with our mum and expected to do a lot of things around the house. One day, the library van came to the village and our mum asked us to get her "four or five books to read". I don't know what informed our decisions - probably a combination of what the covers looked like and whether we could reach the books on the shelves or not but we proudly came back to her with our selection. When she saw the books she was furious and screamed and shouted at us for being so stupid. We didn't know what we had done wrong but the pain of that still sits like a hot stone on my chest.

When my sister and I were very young (from as early as I can remember until my early teens) our family was incredibly poor and always struggling with money. It meant there was a real emphasis on the value of the things that we did have or were given. One Christmas, aged either 7 or 8, I was given an automatic camera. It was a joint gift from my grandparents and parents. I was so pleased and I loved the camera but I was constantly being told off for the pictures I took (mainly of toys, animals, nature) and what a waste of money it was. Once, when we were on holiday, I accidentally left the camera in a public toilet and my dad went ballistic at me in public. Thankfully, we were surrounded by lovely strangers who helped me get back to the toilets and retrieve my camera.

Write out how one of these situations would have gone down differently with a healthy parent

With a healthy parent, they would have picked me up from college, asked me how my day was, shown some curiosity about what I had done or learned, maybe even asked to see/read what I was working on. They may have had gentle affirmations to make for the things I was learning, the books I was reading, how hard I was working. They might have told me about their days, or made plans for the weekend. With a healthy parent, those car journeys could have been a positive ritual, an affirming time, a time of building relationships and getting to know one another. It might have been a chance to share dreams/hopes/thoughts or even just silence. Perhaps they could have even been an opportunity to offer support and advice with the tricky stuff of teenage relationships and figuring out who you are in the world/what you want to do with your life.

How does being directly shamed and blamed in childhood effect you shame beliefs and reactions now?

I always feel I am wrong, that I am a failure, that I cannot amount to anything. I feel like the whole world looks at me and judges me critically. I feel like I don't know who I am - that the thin sense of myself and the evidence contradict one another: people (not just my parents) so often tell me (according to my shame) that I am worthless, stupid, unworthy of love, opportunities, attention. I find it hard to do anything because I start out on a project and see the errors, the faults, don't believe I can finish/do it, and so I don't. It was stupid to imagine I ever could. I am stuck in a perpetual freeze. When I hear criticism, it feels like the world is ending. When a partner or friend pulls away, goes cold or silent, I feel like I am the most abhorant thing in the world. My shame is out of control. Often, especially at times when I am physically incapacitated, it runs the show. I have often had a tendency to burn bridges because red flags are not merely signs of danger they are danger - because of the cascade of shame which is to follow. I feel ugly to the point of wanting to cover myself up entirely. I feel guilty to the extent that I would sometimes rather die than live - because it makes no sense for someone as pointless as me to exist in the world, using resources that would be better left. I have gone through a long list of jobs and quit almost all of them because either I feel like I can't do them well or because the people in charge have some sinister motivations to their behaviour. I feel like I don't fit in anywhere. Almost as soon as I meet a new 'crew' I drop out of it (usually slamming the door behind me) because I come into conflict with their opinions of me (or their perceived opinions of me). I can't bear to be in the same room as a lot of middle class people (and most artists are middle class) because of the echoes of shame I feel about being poor, poorly turned out, because I don't speak their language, because I can't afford new clothes, new shoes, or a haircut. I don't go to events, or accept opportunities because I am ashamed of all of this and more.

Indirect Shame

Write in detail (3 to 4 examples) when indirect shame (shame by proxy) came up for you

Our dad's unpredictable behaviour, rages and drinking/smoking meant that our house was not a place we could invite friends to. I felt a lot of shame on the occasions when friends did come: two times in particular stand out: once at my sisters birthday party (I think it was maybe her 5th birthday?) when our dad appeared in a gorilla suit and scared all the children to tears, another time, when in front of my friend Rose-Ellen he dragged me through the house by my hair. Basically, by age 12, I couldn't invite friends to our house at all. When my sister invited her friends over I always felt incredibly embarrassed.

In contrast, it was always a massive source of shame when I (on the very rare occasion) went to other kids' houses and they were really nice, well fed, and looked after by their parents. The shame in not having money, food, nice things, safety, live, and stability.

Our mum used to make a lot of comparative assesments between my sister and me - kind of creating identities for us according to what we "could" and "could not" do, by what we were "good" at and "not good" at. For instance, growing up my sister was the one who was "good" at dance, performance, and socializing (which I wasn't) while I was "good" at school and drawing. It wasn't until my mid twenties that I ever danced and it wasn't until her mid twenties that my sister really understood her talents in academia and creativity.

Our dad was a drug dealer and often dealt to kids our age at school. There was a lot of shame in being tied up with this element of chaos but also the way our dad was (directly and indirectly) interfering with our lives and social landscapes. So many of our relationships with our peers were not our own - they were colored, conditioned, or influenced by our dad.

Rewrite the biggest of the shame by proxy instances as it would have been like with a healthy parent

With healthy parents, our home would have been a place we could have invited friends to visit and stay. Even if we were poor, it still could have been a place where we could be ourselves and let friends get to know us a little. My sister and I would have had a better relationship because we were not living under such tyranny and shame. Home would have been a place of safety, growth, play, and connection. With healthy parents, I may not have been so isolated - I may have made some lasting friendships, or have learned the healthy ebb and flow of relationships. With healthy parents I would not have lived with dread every day, sleeplessness many nights, and anxiety the rest of the time. If our home had been a stable place I would not have acted out in many of the ways I did: I would not have been so inclined to drink and take drugs to intoxication at an early age, I would have been less likely to engage in behaviours like self harm; I may have been more trusting of people and able to form positive, open relationships. I may have looked forward to going home, rather than dreaded it. With healthy parents, I would have made better decisions about my future living situations and the people I share my space with.

How does shame by proxy still effect your beliefs or shame responses now?

I am incredibly ashamed of my own home: when I am well, I cannot have people stay unless it is tidied and cleaned to the nth degree (which it rarely is) and at the moment, because I cannot do this work, I simply don't have people come and visit. I feel gross and ashamed of the damp, the bad carpets, the shit curtains, the peeling wallpaper. I never invite people over for dinner, even though Josh and I are great cooks and always make enough to feed a family, because I feel too ashamed of our mess and clutter and the lack of a dinner service (it's made up of lots of second hand and inherited bits and bobs). I hate it when people turn up unannounced and when delivery people need to put things in the house (rather than leave them outside) - it makes me feel like I'm naked. I feel constantly exhausted and overwhelmed by the house and garden, which further effects my stress and energy levels (which are poor with the Long Covid/CFS).

Shame by Neglect

Examples of shame by neglect might be setting impossible expectations for a child, parents not wanting to be bothered or a substance abusing parent.

Reflect on how shame by neglect came up for you, give 3 or 4 specific examples. What was the truth about those situations? Were you terrible at X, Y, Z, or did you have no healthy parental guidance to help you though those things?

As a child and young person, sex and sexuality in our family were such a taboo that I experienced a lot of shame and shaming around these things. I started engaging in sexual activities at a really young age (14) because I had literally no guidance or a safe person to tell me about these things. When my mum accidentally found out that I was having sex at 15, she didn't speak to me about it but passed on the information to my dad who then used it as material to bribe/shame/coerce me. At the same time, there were a lot of shady sexual things going on with my dad but I didn't have the tools/insights/understanding/or even a safe person to contrast these behaviours to (let alone speak to).

I used to go out clubbing from age 15 but couldn't afford the taxi fare home so would often walk the 18 miles home at night on my own. It was a dangerous thing to do and there were several occassions where I put myself at risk, either by other people, the weather, and/or exposure. On several occassions I slept on benches or in train stations. On one occassion I was kidnapped and sexually assaulted. If my parents had known any of this they would have said it was me "being bad" or "misbehaving".

When I was 16 I left school and went to art college instead. Because of where we lived and the inaccessibility of the only bus, I had to get lifts home with my dad. He would often forget me and leave me stranded in Carlisle with no way to get home. On the times when he would eventually remember and come and get me, he would be furious and blame me. Sometimes I would be able to get a bus home or a friend to stay with but, being early in the mobile phone days, often had to try and remember where people lived and just knock on their doors or set off walking and hope for the best.

When I was doing my G.C.S.E.s my parents decided to convert the old stairs to the attic into a safer, proper set of stairs. This meant cutting my bedroom in half to put in a staircase. I spent my G.C.S.E revision weeks and months in a neighbours house, just going home to eat, make tea, and sleep under dust sheets. My parents even took the money that I had earned and saved in my weekend waitressing job (which I was saving for university) to pay for some of the work. My dad called it pay back for board and food.

Pick one of those examples and rewrite how it would have gone down with a healthy parent

With healthy parents, I would have received guidance on love, sex, and sexuality. I would not have been shamed for my own sexuality and would have had models, means and examples by which to understand what positive, healthy, and safe sex and sexuality can look like. I might have been more in touch with my own sexuality, to be empowered rather than frozen, and been better able to accept the person I was, and am today. With healthy parents offering good guidance, I may have enjoyed life and relationships better. I may have even had safer, more expansive relationships, have experienced less abuse and sexual trauma. When they knew I was engaging in sexual activity at an early age, healthy parents would have stepped in. They would have intervened. Healthy parents would have talked to me about it or, if they felt they could not, they could have found someone else who could talk to me about it (a doctor, therapist, mentor, or psychologist, for example).

How does being neglected in childhood effect your shame beliefs in the present? e.g. self-blame, craving attention but believing you don't deserve it...

I blame myself for literally everything. When meeting her for the first time, my partners' and my couples therapist said "You apologize a lot for your existence, don't you?" which made me cry because she hit the nail on the head.

Being neglected in childhood has meant, even today, I feel a lot of shame around my sexuality, my lack of sexuality, the shape, color and flavor of my sexuality, mostly while I know in an intellectual way what my sexuality is and needs, I feel utterly cut off from it. It's like there's a whole massive piece of me that's attached but dead because it was cut off at the roots. I feel jealous when people express their sexuality and sexual identities with pride, and then I feel guilt and shame for my jealousy.

...There it is. I think I've run out of steam. That was some big homework... Time to get outside and blow away some of the shame feels...

[immobiliter]

@shadowcovcn sent a meme: 14, 15, 18

14. Who is an author that inspires you?

oh rip you're asking the jaded english graduate this question lmao. so I'm not sure if I could pinpoint an author who particularly inspires me nowadays — there are obviously authors that I love reading, but I haven't really read fiction widely since graduating and most of the fiction I have drawn inspiration from over the past decade or so is by classic authors. plus storytelling as a medium isn't just restricted to books and I could give you countless examples of other forms of storytelling that inspire me on a daily basis. but speaking strictly about the printed word, big shout out to Jacqueline Wilson books for being a staple of my childhood (i doubt anyone outside of the UK will know of her lmao), and Andrea Levy is also suuuuch a favourite writer of mine. and then a mandatory shout out to Oscar Wilde who inspired the majority of my tagging system on this blog, and is also one of my all-time favourite writers.

15. What do you look for in a rp partner?

someone who's chill lmaooo. that's honestly the biggest thing for me and I think I'm lucky because I feel like I'm a pretty good judge of character? I have a sceptical disposition and I'm strong-minded, so I tend to be rather picky of who I reach out to and befriend on this site and for the most part I haven't really steered wrong. if you're gonna be my rp partner you just have to be OK with the fact that I might not reply to your thread for two years, and that if you pressure me I will either make it three years or I'll drop the thread altogether. also, that I might not talk to you everyday — I don't even talk to some of my rl best friends everyday, I much prefer low-pressure friendships where we can check in every few weeks or months and pick up like no time has passed at all. I just don't have the time or inclination for the crap that comes along with this hellsite anymore, so I stick to people I already know and people who pass my strict vibe test lmao.

passion is also always something I look for too, on a more positive note. I enjoy seeing people passionate about their muses on my dash, it's infectious and there have been so many occasions where I have voluntarily sought out the source material and watched a show/read a book/played a video game solely because a friend of mine or someone on my dash has been talking so passionately about them/it. like it doesn't even matter if I don't write in the same fandom as you, if you get me passionate about a character or universe through the dash powers of osmosis, I'll make an AU especially for you lmao.

18. Are there any AU’s you’d like to explore but haven’t had the chance to yet?

oof this is such a good question and such a tricky one to answer on a multi where I have muses that encompass multiple genres and also where I'm really not shy about writing crossovers lmao. is it a cop-out to just say that I love group verses? not even just verses that involve several people, but creating a group verse with one other person where we just throw different muses from our multis into it like a melting pot? writing two characters against each other is fun of course, but there's something even more fun about throwing ten muses into the same verse and figuring out everyone's connection to each other. or starting with two muses and then building it up slowly until you have a google doc with a dozen muses and a flow chart explaining how they all connect lmao. it just enriches your writing environment and gives you so much more stimuli to play with when you reply to a meme or write a thread. instead of coming up with npcs on the fly, you can bring another muse in to help figure out a plot point or help flesh out an aspect of a relationship or dynamic without it being superficial because you're not just creating a surface-level character to be referenced in one or two replies, but another living, breathing muse with their own life and perspective. I just like everything feeling connected, where every thread has a ripple effect on all of the other future ones you write. also, as someone who likes to push themselves when it comes to writing, it's a wonderful challenge to write three muses within the same thread, I love it.

[liopleurodean]

can we also talk about how the world forgets that glasses users are disabled and sometimes refuses to accommodate? let's get petty with details actually.

just the other day I was in the store and there was a costume mask on clearance. was there space for glasses? of course not! because the visually impaired aren't allowed to be Spider-Man I guess. or what about swimming?

"man, isn't this lake gorgeous?" I don't know, I had to take my glasses off so I don't lose them in the water. the only reason I can tell you apart from the other people in this lake is because you chose to wear a bright red swimsuit.

"let's go to a trampoline park!" the park won't pay for damages if my glasses break because I signed a waiver saying they're not responsible for my property. insurance won't cover them because eyes aren't part of the health system, apparently, and I'm not completely blind so obviously they're not "essential".

insurance also won't pay for the eye surgery because my opthalmologist said my eyesight hasn't declined in the last three years and, since I've lived for so long this way, I've adapted, so the surgery is available but not necessary. insurance only cares about necessary.

listen I am so glad that there are accommodations available; that I can just walk into a Wal-Mart or a mall or get an app to get my glasses is amazing. but the menus at fast food places are too far away for me to read the prices clearly and participating in any sport means accepting that I'll be spending a good chunk of money on replacement glasses (assuming my hand-eye coordination/depth perception are up to the task) and I can't even enjoy a beach because every thing is a blur of blue and tan and rainbow sprinkles.

"just get contacts!" NOT EVERYONE CAN WEAR CONTACTS! I am sick and tired of hearing this. my prescription is too strong! my opthalmologist said that he could give me a recommendation to a guy who would make them for me, but they wouldn't be good for everyday use and I certainly shouldn't use them to drive! "just get lasik" lasik is a procedure for near-sightedness.it reshapes the cornea to enhance your vision. my nearsightedness is caused by amblyopia (lazy eye), but it's not so simple. the lazy eye itself is caused by ANOTHER issue that requires a specialized surgery by a licensed opthalmologist familiar with my medical history.

anyway I'm just tired. in high school I was involved in theater, as many nerds are. I couldn't wear my glasses on stage because they didn't fit the style of the piece (we were a competition group), so I had to navigate the set pieces and other actors extremely carefully. I can't play VR games like BeatSaber because, 1) they don't fit over my glasses so it'll be blurry anyway and 2) they require your eyes to be fairly equal, which mine are far from.

I'm not allowed to drive without my glasses, it would be dangerous. if they break, then I'm stuck. I can't go to work, to the store, to see my friends. my parents have full-time jobs, they can't take me. my brother isn't old enough, and if he was, he has school. none of my coworkers have the same shifts I do so we can't carpool. should I expect one of my friends to drop everything every time I want to go into one of the bigger cities? I live in a rural area. we have "public transportation", but that's only within the town itself and not affordable long-term.

people look at me and assume that I'm healthy, fit, and capable of any activity they can. they don't understand that I have severe limitations that restrict every choice I make.

Made the mistake of bringing up that needing glasses is a disability on tiktok and people got real mad.

“You can fix it with glasses” yeah, cuz they’re a disability aid? But like, I still have to pay 160 bucks to use my own fucking eyes?

Like, by definition, if your eyes do not work without aid, you have a disability to see.

Having a disability doesn’t automatically put you in what people consider the “disabled” category, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is in fact, a disability.

[internationalrelocationcompany]

HOW TO ADJUST TO A NEW CULTURE AFTER AN INTERNATIONAL RELOCATION

Moving to another country can be one of the most exciting and at the same time overwhelming experiences. The excitement of exploring new surroundings, making new friends, and coming across unfamiliar ways of everyday living often juxtaposes with the complication of adjusting to the culture of an unfamiliar country. From social norms to communication, there are so many things that may come across differently and overwhelming when one moves internationally. But with the right approach and mindset, acculturation may become one of the most rewarding aspects of your relocation journey. This article will discuss how to adapt to a new culture after an international relocation.

1. Be Open-Minded and Patient

Amongst the numerous things to consider during any international move, keep in mind that adjusting to a new culture takes time. It is so easy to feel overwhelmed by all the differences that one experiences: language, customs, food, and day-to-day interaction. The key to a smooth cultural transition is to remain open-minded and patient.

You may feel irritated or frustrated at first whenever things are not happening just the way you thought they would be. Yet again, remind yourself that these changes are normal; it is part of adaptation. Welcome the fact that you will make mistakes and that it is okay to ask for questions or help when you do not understand something. And again, the more patience one has with oneself and people's differences around him or her, the easier it will be to adapt little by little.

2. Learn the Local Language

One of the most overwhelming obstacles to cultural adaptation often emanates from language barriers. If your move abroad drops you in a country that doesn't speak your native language, taking the time to learn the local language can prove to be one of your biggest assets in integrating yourself into the community. Most individuals who actually live in another country are not immediately proficient in the language, but for many cases, basic phrases of greeting, shopping, and ordering of food enable them to easily perform daily tasks.

Consider joining a language class shortly after relocating or even before your arrival. Many cities have language classes designed for expats, and online tools, such as apps or language exchange groups, could also serve quite useful. Locals appreciate you even more when you try talking to them in their language and show more interest in their culture.

3. Engage with Local Customs and Traditions

One of the effective ways to settle into a new culture is to actually engage in the local customs and traditions. Take time to learn about the cultural do's and don'ts in your new country. This could include understanding the appropriate way to greet people, how to conduct yourself in social settings, or learning what is considered polite or rude conduct.

Attending local festivals, holidays, and community events is a brilliant way to plunge into the culture. These events allow you to meet locals, learn about their practices, and immerse yourself in the cultural dynamics surrounding you. The more you become involved in the traditions, the more connected you will be to the culture and its people.

4. Cultivate Cultural Understanding

It means that one should understand and respect the value, belief system, and cultural practices of this new culture. Every country differs in some way from others in terms of its unique set of norms and values that dictate various things in their social life to business etiquette. You will be able to handle such differences more easily and delicately by developing your cultural awareness.

It may range, for instance, from simple straightforwardness in some cultures to indirectness and subtlety in others. This realization will save you from misunderstandings and make dealing with locals much easier and far more agreeable. You might get to understand the culture even better through reading about it in books or articles, by watching local media, or just simply talking to locals.

5. Make Local Friends

Not surprisingly, one of the best ways of fitting into a new culture is to make ties with natives. It is quite natural to lose one's self in an expat community, but friendships with natives give one firsthand information about the culture, and one fits in much more easily. They can provide insight into social norms prevalent in that country, show you around in concealed areas, and help during the times when you feel like an outsider.

Whenever possible, talk to your neighbors, fellow workers, and others. Join clubs, other organizations, or a group of people in your area, participate in activities, such as sports or volunteer work. These will provide you with further opportunities to meet people around you and make friends. Having friends in town will lighten up and add value to your process of adjustment to the new culture.

6. Balance Between Your Own Culture and the New One

Also, it does not just need to involve removing oneself from one's own culture; it actually involves a question of balance between the two cultures-a person maintaining his or her original cultural identity and the new one. Retain contact with your own traditions and customs that mean a great deal to you by being open to the inclusiveness of your new host customs.

You may continue to observe the holidays of your home country while becoming involved in the commemorations of your adopted one. A persistence in your own culture can be comforting and bring you stability within your changing environment.

7. Expect and Manage Culture Shock

Culture shock is a common phenomenon when people move to another country. This is when the level of differences between the culture back home and the new one become overwhelming or disorienting. Culture shock tends to go through four stages: the honeymoon stage-when one initially feels excited about a new culture; frustration-when one starts to feel irritated with the cultural differences; adjustment-one gradually gets accustomed to the new culture; and acceptance-one is fully adapted to the new environment.

In order to handle culture shock, remind yourself that it is part of the process of moving, temporary, and very normal. Give yourself a little time to get used to the place, and be easy on yourself if there are things in the new culture that you just won't seem to understand or take in. One other way you can try to cope with this rather challenging phase is by establishing routines, keeping in close contact with your loved ones, and finding support in expatriate groups or counselors.

8. Embrace Local Food and Lifestyle

Food forms a big part of the culture, and embracing local food is one sure way to adapt to a new culture. While it is normal that one may crave familiar dishes from home, exploring the flavors and culinary traditions of your new country can be quite rewarding. Try local dishes, visit traditional markets, and learn to cook some of the country's popular meals.

Along with food, acculturating yourself to the native life will enrich your cultural experience. Be it the pace of life, slower or faster, working hours, or leisure activities, acceptance into the local way of life will bridge the gap between you and the world you are in.

9. Be Easy on Yourself, and Acknowledge Improvement

The integration into a new culture surely will take some time in due process, and that also calls for your effort with due patience. Be easy on yourself as you go through this transition. Of course, days when you would feel out of place or frustrated will come, but it is normal, and over time these feelings will lessen.

Celebrate the small victories along the way, whether mastering a new phrase in the local language, making a new friend, or successfully navigating a cultural difference. Let these moments of achievement help build confidence to keep going.

10. Look for Support When Needed

It can be emotionally demanding to move to a new country, especially if you are further away from your usual support network. Do not hesitate to seek support if you find this transition difficult. Moving companies that are truly international offer resources and support groups for the new arrival; expatriate communities or local organizations often do this as well. These groups will provide you with practical guidance, emotional support, and contact during your settlement period.

In case the adjustment of the new culture is taking such a toll on your mental health, you can consult a professional. Many counselors and therapists actually specialize in helping expatriates deal with the emotional challenges of relocation and cultural adaptation.

Conclusion

Cultural adjustment after an international relocation can be life-altering and bring personal growth with an understanding of the world. Approaching this transition with an open mind, taking an active interest in the culture around you, and asking for help when needed are all ways of securely adjusting to your new environment. After some time, combined with patience and efforts, your new country will finally feel like your home, and you will learn to truly appreciate how rich and diverse the cultures of the world are.

For more information please visit Asiantiger international relocation

[macbeth-n-cheese]

A Brief Commentary on Ghouls

By (not yet) Professor (almost) Doctor Mac (that's me)

But in all seriousness, the effects of radiation are something I find extremely interesting (as seen by my obsession with all things rad), and while I'm glad this isn't something you deal with everyday in a hospital, it would be a cool field to focus a career on. But I digress.

Ghouls, the radioactive zombies of the wasteland.

For once the vagueness of the lore was a positive thing! It left enough space for hyperfocusing nerds like yours truly to hypothesize about them. After screaming about how absurd wrong mostly everything on the wiki is, of course. Onwards!

Gorgeous Looks

Our friends the ghouls were strongly based on real-life victims of nuclear disasters (don't look it up, it's worse than what we see in the games), on the later stages of radiation sickness.

There are different types of waves emitted by nuclear material, but our focus will be on the ionising radiation, the variety capable of altering or even destroying DNA molecules, and possibly killing the cells. Think of it as a fire: the closer you get to it, the warmer you'll feel, but in this case 'fire' is 'nuclear material' and 'warmth' is 'your superficial cells slowly dying from the outside and in as radiation penetrates the layers of you.'

(I will not get into much detail on the ghoulification process now, because I believe it deserves its own, more elaborate post. But hey, Chernobyl from HBO did a fantastic job in portraying radiation sickness. It's definitely not for the faint of heart, but a must watch if you're interested in this type of stuff.)

As the outer skin (epidermis) dies out, it begins to necrose, and slides away like it would in a severe burn case, with excruciating amounts of pain and enough suffering to drive someone insane (more on it later). Hair, nose, ears, most of the lips, they eventually peel off of the body in the more extreme cases, and the survival rates aren't good if you reach this stage.

This would be a decisive point in a pre-ghoul's life, where he will either die of the many ailments that could afflict someone who's lost their outer layer of skin (infections, dehydration, hypothermia, shock, etc etc), or live to see Courier 6 put a bullet through Benny's head, with the help of his newly developed Mutation™.

If he survives, gets away from the direct source of ionising radiation, and develops the mutation I'll talk about in a while, the skin will slowly begin to regenerate, forming a thick, sturdy and leathery scar tissue over most of his body. Hair and lost cartilage will not grow back, and previous injuries like chronic conditions or bone deformation from fractures will not be fixed as well, but hey, immortality.

So, ghouls aren't walking corpses, they're literally living, breathing people, who "just" suffered severe rad burns and mutations on their DNA. Nothing at all like zombies.

Immortality?!

From the wiki: "The unnaturally long lifespan of a ghoul is also due to a mutation within the autonomic nervous system (...) The mutation in response to gamma radiation that produces ghouls disrupts the normal process of decay in the neurotransmitters along the spinal cord," and while the effort was great on their part, this is still a big genetic nope. Allow me a drop of pedantism (a very small one because human genetics is a seven-headed beast):

The process of ageing in humans is essentially due to the natural degradation of the extremities of our chromosomes (bundles of genetic material inside the cells' nucleus), parts known as telomers, that basically don't express DNA and act as a protective layer for the segments that do. A good analogy for them is when you burn the tip of a nylon rope to keep it from fraying. Every time a cell replicates itself, be it for growth, tissue repair or etc, the chromosomes can get a tiny bit shorter, sacrificing part of the telomer to preserve the rest of the DNA, even though some of it is rebuilt by the enzyme telomerase. However, seeing as the only two infinite things in life are the universe and human stupidity (and cancer, keep tuned), the telomer will eventually get smaller and smaller until the cell's capacity of replication is significantly crippled, and it eventually gets destroyed by the organism (apoptosis). The first obvious sign of this is wrinkles on the skin, because the renewal of its cells is diminished, and what follows is the typical old-personhood.

In most cancer cells, there's a ridiculously high expression of telomerase, rendering the tumor immortal, both for the quick reconstruction of the telomer, and for tricking the body into seeing its cells as brand new ones. Now, what causes cancer? Among other things, exposure to extreme levels of radiation, because ionising radiation (the dangerous kind of radiation) can damage the DNA structure.

There's a lot of deep genetics in between this and the apparent immortality of a ghoul, but I can say for sure that it was a massive lucky strike for them to develop a mutation like this. Most of their cells must've had technically become cancerous to reach results like those, but they don't replicate wildly like a regular malignant tumor. They behave almost normally, and just don't die! So I assume the mutation affected something in the telomer/telomerase activity and/or in the process of apoptosis (natural destruction of cells due to old age/factory damage). It would've had to be a very, very specific kind of mutation, and if we were to throw some realism into fallout, the incidence of ghouls would be drastically smaller.

Summing it up, the mutation they suffered affected the individuals on a cellular level, from the outside in, seeing as the deeper layers are the last to be penetrated by radiation.

Regular Ferals

The behaviour of a feral ghoul is... very strange. They're extremely aggressive and canibalistic, but not to one another. They pay little mind to physical injuries and are incapable of rational thoughts. They growl, drool, and overall behave like rabid animals, which could mean that the "outer" layers of their brains (like the frontal lobe, which is responsible for most of what makes us rational) have suffered significant, irreparable damage. Ground zero ghouls, who survived being subjected to higher doses of radiation, would most definitely become Ferals.

Regarding pain, it's important to mention that the brain itself naturally feels no pain, it only interprets and processes pain signals coming from the rest of the body, and the center of distribution for those signals is the thalamus (but I could be wrong), a very inner part of the encephalus. If something between the thalamus and the spinal chord or the rest of the brain is damaged, the notion of pain would be lost on the individual. Mutations could also have something to do with their perception of pain and tolerance towards it, but I couldn't say.

On our next episode, I'll try to focus on the physiology of a ghoul and the health challenges they may face, and if I have enough sanity left, speculate on glowing ones and other special types of ghoulies. (Also shout-out to Raoul, Kent, Arlen, Edward, John, Billy and Charon for being my fav irradiated babies)

P.S.: If you guys want to hear me babble about something specific, hmu! Those things really help me study lol

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement. 

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight. 

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said. 

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.” 

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened. 

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone. 

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers. 

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race. 

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs. 

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.” 

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep. 4)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 4123

Episode: Four

Warning: violence, gore, description of violence, fighting

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Three

Time: 3:20am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Wakanda was always calm when Steve went, the people who lived there just seemed to understand the ways of life. There was never a catcall or fight in an alley, people greeted each other with kindness and a soft bow, Steve always copied but felt like he was too stiff when he did so. He found he walked with his back a little straighter and his chin a little higher, he felt unstoppable in the warm climate, filled with power and generosity. 

Natasha on the other hand hated Wakanda, not because of the people but for the same reason as Steve; it was too peaceful. She’d always get the dirtiest looks when trying to explain her case, no one seemed to understand the concept of ‘too much comfort is uncomfortable’. She ran to Bucky once after a moment and asked him why he liked it so much, she thought he off all people would hate comfort, he’d always be one to sleep on the floor because the mattress would feel like it was swallowing him. He just shook his head and shrugged, he’d never tell anyone why; Nat found out he never even told you. 

Natasha had been trained to trust no one other than yourself, but after escaping the Red Room she questioned the one in the mirror all too often. People would smile and while Steve smiled and waved Natasha thought of ulterior motives, why were they smiling to them and not the people slightly behind them? but then they’d smile to the people behind Natasha and she’d question if it was to cover themselves. The welcoming's to almost everywhere felt weird, she wanted to break in or have to fake her way to what she wanted, having doors opened for her felt like a slap in the face for all the things she’s done for those years before. 

“God, gives me the creeps,” Natasha faked a shiver, Steve just rolled his eyes. They were walking in the palace now, T’Challa would be waiting for them in Shuri’s tech room. 

Apparently Shuri had been wanting to try a new type of cuff, one made of- obviously -vibranium that tightens at a lie. There were little needles that poke into the culprit's nervous system, it picks up on someone’s sign that they are lying and tightens when the little pins are triggered. If someone's breath picked up or heart rate doubled, it would squeeze a little bit more until their hands were blue. Nat thought it was amazing when she heard it over the phone, her mind was picturing it the entire flight over. 

Steve had been thinking about Bucky, Steve was well aware of Bucky’s deep connection to you. You’d been dating for over a year and it was love at first sight (then Bucky quietly loving you from the other side of the room), Bucky was never one to fall for someone, he’d never have the confidence in himself that he’d be here for too long. But it was the little things Bucky began to do that made Steve appreciate you even more. He’d watch from his spot on the kitchen counter, quietly sipping coffee and reading the paper, which wasn’t actually paper because it was on his phone, while glancing over every so often to see you and Bucky in your own little world, both giggling at something. There's this moment for Bucky when he’d just look at you, Steve had seen it happen so often, like Bucky was taking a step back and realizing he had someone who loved him unconditionally. The laugh would die down and Bucky would whisper something, it would alway be along the lines of ‘thank you’ but it could change. He’d sometimes do it with Steve as well, both you and Steve would say the same thing, ‘no need to thank me, but you’re welcome’ because that’s what Bucky liked best. 

You were just an agent when you arrived, nothing more. Slowly you had gotten to know who everyone was by going out of your way to give out cookies to everyone who walked by you, it was a little thing Bucky seemed to really enjoy. After your talents were discovered from past jobs you were moved to a spy, you’d used to work for a private firm where they’d track down people who launder money, you’d have to get so much evidence it often led you to get jobs at mattress stores or random shops. With that and a lifeguard certification- that you got when you were a teen- under your belt you were perfect to be an agent, Fury introduced you to Bucky for combat training because Bucky needed to learn how to work with others; Steve actually told Fury to give Bucky the assignment. 

You’d spar everyday and the both of you would get into it. There would be times where you wouldn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day because the other cheated. Everyone would laugh but you’d take it very seriously, Bucky would always say you weren’t strong enough to go out into the field, so you lifted weights. He’d say you weren’t fast enough, then he’d see you sprinting on the treadmill a day later. 

Steve knew you were good for Bucky when you were about to start dating, it was at that part where you were going on dates but you weren’t dating. With all the things Bucky had criticized you on, you flipped it on him with one simple task: keep your fiddle-leaf fig plant alive. It would’ve taken Bucky one google search to find out that 61% of people can’t keep this house plant alive, it’s the hardest one to take care of. It was a metaphor of sorts, for you and for your relationship. 

It wasn’t a surprise to find it dead when you got home, Steve came to you with his shoulders slumped. Apparently Bucky had been crying for three days straight because he killed your plant and he thought you’d dump him because of it. It was the weird feelings when Steve saw you start to laugh, this was his best friend who was crying of guilt and you were laughing, he’d wanted to punch you square in the jaw. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked way too harshly. 

“Oh nothing…” you wiped the tear that had fallen. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry!” Bucky had left his room and came running to you, his face was red and his eyes were barely open from how puffy they were. He quickly pulled you in for a hug, “I messed up your plant, I’m sorry.”

Steve was getting redder and redder the more you laughed, “what’s so fucking funny, huh?” Steve boomed, he was getting protective. 

You had dropped the act then, both of them were very emotional at the moment and laughing wouldn’t be the best choice of action. “Don’t worry, Bucky,” you soothed him, “you weren’t supposed to keep alive.” 

“What?” he pulled away and sniffled, “but you asked me to-”

“To try,” you paused with emphasis, “and keep one of the hardest plants to keep alive, alive.” you smiled, “I was proud that I had kept it alive for as long as I did, but I needed to see what you would do with something like this.” 

“Why?” Steve asked for Bucky, still very protective. 

“Did you buy a new one and hope I didn’t notice?” You asked, Bucky shook his head no. “did you get mad at me because I gave you a stupid chore?” He also said no to that. “Did you make Wanda keep it alive with her powers?” all these options ran through Bucky’s head and he didn’t even think of them, “you put so much effort into this, and even if you did fail you still cared a lot, that’s all I ever want. I want this relationship to work and if you run at the first sign of adversity then this won’t work, but you buckle down and keep pushing, and if it doesn’t work? Then I know you actually cared, and you tried. That’s all.” 

“You’re a keeper.,” Steve said before walking away and giving them space to catch up. 

Nat waved a hand in front of Steve’s face, and it turns out he’d been staring at T’Challa for a while while he was talking. They had walked the entire way and Steve just stared at the ground with a blank expression, he needed to look out for you in order to keep Bucky sane. 

“S-sorry, I zoned out.” Steve straightened his posture a bit, hands on hips and shoulders rolled back.

“No worries, captain Rogers.” T’Challa spoke calm as ever, “I have the criminals in the room, they have the new tech that’s already set up, my sister wanted to set it up.” T’Challa opened one arm and guided them to the secret room where two men sat with their hands cuffed and on their laps. “Neither of them have any record of being born, probably a fake identity.” The king linked arms with Shuri and walked out of the small room. 

Seeing how grand and futuristic Shuri’s lab was made it shocking to be in a normal interrogation cell, two rusty chairs that were occupied and no table. Steve looked to see the single light that hung from the ceiling, it wasn’t a soft yellow like the one’s at the Avenger building but purple, vibranium always casted a purple/blue hue. 

“Where are you from?” Steve asked. 

“Iceland.” the one on Steve’s left answered. 

“Is Hydra now stationed in Iceland?” Nat cut in and asked. 

“One station, there’s many.” The same man on the left kept talking, the other one had his head all the way down with his forehead touching his knees. 

Steve leaned up against the wall, “you attacked Princes Shuri, why?”

“Because she is the one that made us start from the very beginning, she's the one that erased the trigger words from your friend and our weapon.” He snarled, “She needed to pay for what she did, we should have known Wakanda was the hardest place to attack, we’d need a Winter Soldier for that.” A smirk grew from the right side of his mouth. 

“What are you smiling about?” Nat pressed, she walked closer.

“Oh, nothing- ow!” the handcuffs tightened, his breathing rate doubled as he tried to ride out the initial shock. 

“Tell us!” Steve smashed the wall, causing a dent to grow from it. 

“Fine…” the man adjusted, “once we found out we’d never get our Winter Soldier back we quickly moved on, no one can break Wakanda’s tech, it’s impossible.” The man sighed and looked off, “so we chose to start again, make a new way, create a new trial. It’s safe to say we did.” he took a deep breath and leaded back against his chair, his fingertips were beginning to turn purple, it was difficult to see with the purple hue of the room. “When we attacked your building we didn’t want Barnes, we wanted someone, anyone. This girl was the closest to us, and it seemed to be the closest to Barnes, am I right?” he quizzed, seemed to be genuinely wondering. “She’d wake up and forget where she is, normally she’d pat the ground beside her and call out for a man named Bucky, that’s Barnes. It was the perfect choice, completely on a whim.” He looked at Nat, “she got her confidence from you, the entire time we were slowly poisoning her she completely believed she was here for ransom, it was funny to see her face when he told her what we did to her, how we now control her. The look on her face when we asked who wiped Barnes’ trigger words… She spit them out but her face was full of fear, her voice and thoughts weren’t her own.” 

“Why would you tell us all of this?” Steve asked. 

“I know I will die,” the cuffs didn’t tighten, “and my friend is already dead, I’d like to go with a bullet and not torture.” He looked up to them. “I think my father has passed, he worked for Hydra and I’d like to see him, to ask for forgiveness.”

Natasha pushed back the other man who hadn’t spoken a word to find his hands blackened and completely dead, the tightness had cut off all circulation. Right near the edge of the cuff and on the man’s skin was starting to split, there was no blood to leak out of the cut because there wasn’t blood in the veins, it was slowly falling and peeling away. 

“You tortured my friend- two of them actually!” Steve screamed, “I hope to god you die slowly.” Steve lifted his gun to the man’s face, he closed his eyes. But Steve moved the aim to the thigh, you had told him that a shot to the femoral artery was fatel after ten seconds of bleeding, you had also told him that the femur- which was what the femoral artery is attached to -is the most painful break for bones. 

So Steve shot at the middle of the thigh, he and Nat watched without emotion as the man quickly bled out, the blood squirted in the air and rolled down his pants. Blood coming from an artery is bright red and tends to squirt, but from a vein makes the blood more slow and dark. When the final squirt of blood managed to hit the man’s face, Steve knew he hit right on target; and that you were right for all those things.

Time: 5:59am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Bucky and Wanda walked through the forest, most of the leaves had fallen off the trees due to the season so they could see further into the thick woods. Not a lot of talking was happening between the two of them, Bucky was way too focused on keeping his cool while Wanda used her powers to see if there was any form of life around. 

The wind blew softly and the leaves that held on for dear life were now getting pushed aside off the flimsy twigs, they would fall and join the other countless leaves that met the same fate. Wanda loved the fall, she’d jump into a pile of leaves any chance she got. Right now she was purposely stepping on the ones that looked the most dry which would give a good crunch. Her nose was a little red due to the cold but everywhere else she was yellow and happy, it seemed she gave off heat.

Bucky hated the fall, the sound of stepping on leaves sounded like someone was right behind him. If there was a Hydra agent out in these woods they would have heard them from a mile away with all of Wanda’s jumping and giggling. Bucky loved Wanda in a motherly kind of way, but sometimes she was just too...happy…

When everything seemed lost, Bucky and Wanda’s phones began to vibrate, Bucky was quick to pick up. Both Bucky and Wanda made their way to a tree stump to take a moment to listen. Wanda sat on the ground floor and picked at the tons of leaves that covered the ground, she’d pick and rip them apart one by one. 

“It’s Steve,” Bucky whispered before picking up, “Steve?”

“Buck, you have to listen to me,” his voice was shaken and distraught, “I’ve sent the coordinates, she’s there but I don’t know how much of her is left.” 

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked as he looked over to see Wanda looking at the coordinates on her phone. 

“I don’t know how much has happened to her, they’ve brainwashed her.” Steve took a deep breath, Bucky could hear Nat in the background, “we have to act fast, we’re on our way, do not wait for us.” he commanded and Bucky nodded but he knew Steve couldn't see, there was a type of mind reading between the two of them that really came in handy for times like these. 

“Roger that.” Bucky hung up and began to move again, Wanda had read the location and it turned out they weren’t that far away, at the final stretch they saw the building through the empty trees. 

The forest had been cleared around the building, the grass seems healthy but it was starting to brown with the changing weather. The building itself was very small for it to be the most dangerous Hydra facility, it was only one story. There were no windows and the outer wall was all one grey colour, no symbols or tanks ready to fire; there wasn’t even a guard around the building. It seemed too vacant for it to be true, the wind seemed to stop as they got closer into the open field, it was completely still and almost dead. 

Bucky or Wanda actually had a plan, everything had been so fast there wasn’t anything drawn out or spoken about at some meeting, this was all instinct. Though there were no windows and security cameras they both knew something had to be watching the outside, they were low to the ground in the open field but the grass was way too short to cover them. Bucky had his gun ready while Wanda’s hands were in a position to create a shield for the both of them, at the sound of a vibration Wanda checked her phone. 

“Steve and Nat have landed, they are five minuets out,” she whispered. 

“Copy.” was all Bucky could think to say. 

Both of their backs smashed against the wall, with their final moments of bliss before fighting a couple deep breaths were taken and eyes remained shut. Bucky’s finger fiddled on the trigger of the gun, Imagining what it would look like to blow the man who hurt you to oblivion. Bucky moved further and farther away from his Winter Soldier thoughts, the mass murder and robotic revenge. But when it came to someone hurting you, he’d even put the mask back on.

On the count of three the door was bursted open, and right away agents on the inside began to fire. Wanda and Bucky took them down their own way. 

One agent was still alive, Bucky ran up and gripped his throat. “Where is she!” he screamed. 

“You’ll never know-”

A gun was placed to his head. 

“-Alright! Alright!” The man shrieked, “third door on the left, please don’t kill me!” the man cried. 

“I won’t kill you,” Bucky lowered his gun but the grip on his neck tightened, “I’ll torture you slowly before.'' His left hand gripped so tight around the agent’s neck he could hear the bone shattering, clear fluid from the agent’s spine leaked from his eye and ear before blood followed. Bucky watched emotionlessly as the agent’s face turned blue and almost popped like a balloon. “Wanda, get them all outside.” 

“Yes, sergeant!” Wanda yelled, she was fighting off everyone else. 

Bucky blew by everyone as they ran to see the commotion, so ran right by Bucky without thinking he was the threat. Wanda was now outside and in a matter of seconds the eeriness of the outside matched the inside, the air was still and stuffy, it smelt like the beginning of decomposing. Bucky had his gun ready but it seemed no one was in here, his only threat was you. 

Bucky took note of the stone grey floors, and stone grey walls, and stone grey ceilings. HYDRA didn’t put much money into design like the Avenger’s did, all the funds they collected went straight into the tech they made and Bucky was sure that’s why they were still around, they had so much money saved that they could pay people to turn their cheek and walk the other way. 

As Bucky scanned for something to give away where all the scientists were, his eye met another door in the very corner of the room, it was exactly the same colour of the stone grey walls but the brass door knob caught his eye. All you could hear was the boot of Bucky’s combat boots on the floor, his breath was even scaring him. His hand reached out for the door and when he opened it he found what he was worrying about. 

A cell. More specifically: an empty cell. 

There were chains hanging from the ceiling, one large cuff, one for what seemed to be used for a neck and then four cuffs for wrists and ankles. Bucky completely forgot where he was, he didn’t remember there was an entire lab behind him, all his mind was throwing at his memories of a cell just like this. 

Bucky didn’t remember much about cells in the early days fighting against HYDRA in a cell, in the 40’s. He did, however, remember what it was like to come out of ice when he was needed. The concept of life didn’t exist when he was frozen, it felt like a long blink, it didn’t seem like he’d been asleep for years.

He’d wake up and for a second he was still normal. He’d think it’s cold because it was winter and his house back in the 40’s didn’t have any type of heating system except for a small fireplace, his boots and pants were still on because he got hammered the night before- also explaining the headache -and just fell into bed. All his convincing would go away when his brain would fog again, and he’d look down and catch the shine of his left arm, all at once he’d fall back into place. The dissociating happens after dreams but it came from waking up and not really knowing who he was, as he’d walk to whatever commander was in charge that year he’d ask himself what he was, all the memories and answers in his brain would seem to pull further away, like a word in the tip of his tongue. 

He was ripped from his thoughts manually, he thought of you. He thought he was hypnotizing himself when he looked in there at first, too triggered by what he saw to think straight, but he took another moment to look, he saw the chains swinging back and forth ever so slightly.

His stomach dropped, he knew you were still in the room. “Sweetheart?” he called like he always did, “it’s Bucky, we’re gonna get you out of here, come out, baby.” he tried to sound as soothing as possible, he looked under every lab table and every chair. 

He flipped through pages on his desk, reading the details of what they did to you. “What is I.C.E.?” Bucky asked himself. 

“Injected Complying Enhancement.” 

Bucky turned as fast as he could to see you behind him. You were completely naked, body covered in dirt and grime, your hair was hacked and it seemed to have been pulled. Bucky just looked at your body, words were carved into your skin, every single one of them were infected, puss bubbles around the angry red scars. As his eyes trailed up he saw blue on your finger tips, then he reached your face to see a sunken cheekbone and massive cut on your forehead, but nothing compared to a generous piece of your nose hanging on by a thread, the tip was black. 

“Baby, do you know me?” Bucky asked through heavy tears, this wasn’t what he was expecting. 

You scanned over him, “Sergeant, James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.” 

Right at that moment, he knew you were gone.

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor​

let me know if you want a tag!

[jungshookz]

cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy! 

                                        »»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

hm

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-”  “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

                                         »»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly 

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand 

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it’s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

hm

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!  

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions  

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”  

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

                                          »»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

                                         »»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”  

oh

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record… 

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? 

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

[crystalkleure]

I have a Concept.

BeyBurst beyblades are supposed to burst. As in, it’s actually a necessity. In spite of the Exploding Beyblade mechanic potentially causing sharp little bits of spintop to go flying everywhere and hit people, what if it’s actually a safety feature?

If I recall correctly, all the way back in s1 territory [specifically in the manga though, can’t remember if we saw it in the anime or not], Valt and Shu just straight-up got their original beys from a store. And there are also all of those Unimportant Characters running around with different-coloured versions of preexisting beys. This indicates that beyblades are, in fact, mass-produced and sold in stores, and those are all built to be able to burst. In fact, I still haven’t seen the newest two seasons of the Burst anime yet, but I’m pretty sure super special fancy custom beys, that some important character explicitly made themself, that have some really creative [and strong] anti-burst features built into them, don’t ever show up as NPC recolour beys? In spite of the trend of “random background characters in new season use recoloured versions of Prominent Character beys from LAST season” to me seeming to indicate that those new recolour beys are either bootleg copycats, or those actual official shelf models have just suddenly started selling really well, due to someone having just recently done something cool with one in a tournament/on TV lol. [Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong on which beys get NPC recolours, I don’t exactly actually, uh, pay attention to all the random background scrubs. That point’s not particularly important anyway because I’m sure unofficial bootlegs are a thing that exists, mmmm delicious plagiarism. The point is the stores seem to sell beys with the normal level of burstability. And so I’m only caring about the everyday random NPCs with no names or anything, if another important character specifically goes and painstakingly recreates a bey similar or identical to another important character’s bey just because they idolize that other character, that doesn’t count. That’s not important here, implication-wise.] So...

What if it’s actually a really bad thing that people keep making their own custom beys now that are increasingly more and more ludicrously difficult -- or even near-impossible -- to burst?

What if the self-destruct mechanic is intended to be an emergency shutdown switch, and actually really needs to not be subverted? We’ve seen what an adept beyblader can do while running at full-throttle -- they’re dangerous, to themselves and their surroundings. Beys have the power to be obscenely destructive...while they’re spinning and battling, primarily. They are by far the most potent while actively in use. But if they hit things too hard like 3-4 times or so...they burst. Their locks disengage, they fall apart, and thus they are forced to abruptly stop. That makes them theoretically incapable of just rampaging indefinitely.

Picture this: One day, in the probably-decently-distant history of the BeyBurst world, a kid has a spintop. Probably made that spintop themself. This kid, it turns out, happens to be one of the Super Special Powerful Kids, who’s not only REALLY GOOD at using that spintop, they also possess that funny little supernatural ability to accidentally create an incredibly powerful incorporeal monster ghost creature thing with their brain. And because they love playing with their little spintop so much, that spintop becomes the vessel for this Terrifying Monster-Shaped Culmination Of Spiritual Elemental Energy or whatever that they’ve manifested. That’s...good, probably, because at least that means the Scary Monster Thing isn’t 1. just stuck in the kid’s brain with nowhere else to go, which would lead to possession that would decidedly be incredibly difficult to deal with without harming the kid, or 2. funneled into something more dangerous to control, like a car or a nuclear warhead or some shit. But then it turns out that the kid is ABSOLUTELY still able to wreak impressive havoc and cause Large Amounts Of Destruction, even accidentally...until the spintop stops spinning. The Power Level drops dramatically as soon as the demon top is still, and it takes a little while for it to build back up once it’s launched again. But what if a feature is implemented into the spintop that allows it to keep spinning for much, much longer? Or just The Supernatural Monster Power itself becomes capable of sustaining it, through wind manipulation or something?

Now, imagine you’re idk, the government or something, someone with Power and Influence over the masses, and you see THAT happen. Shit, that was just a random kid that did that! Looked like any other kid, acted like any other kid! There is no feasible way to tell a kid with Brain Monster potential apart from other kids who are NOT That Powerful, until a brain monster happens. So, if you can’t predict it, and thus can’t do anything to mitigate the potential destruction on a case-by-case basis...well, how about you convince ALL the little kiddies that spintops are just the greatest thing ever, everyone should play with spintops, AND you ensure those spintops are mass-manufactured specifically to not be able to Hold A Charge for too long because...they burst! You’ve designed them so that violence itself causes them to fall apart and stop to cool down! It’s perfect! That way, anytime an odd mutant child with Brain Monster powers comes along, the chance of them funneling their Brain Monster into their spintop is now Very High, meaning that all the Brain Monsters will hopefully end up inhabiting these little plastic toys that actively inhibit them instead of possessing children or nukes. It’s brilliant!

This does raise some questions, though:

1. What happens when someone’s spintop breaks, and they DON’T get it repaired, after they’ve already manifested a Brain Monster to live in it? Where would the Brain Monster go in that case? Uh oh, demon on the loose? Exactly what we were trying to avoid? Shu’s change between Legend Spriggan and Spriggan Requiem in God does seem to indicate that the Brain Monster probably 1. by default, does just camp out in its blader’s brain until a new Spintop Vessel is created for it, and 2. the Brain Monster itself is probably not actually completely strictly sealed into any bey, because it doesn’t disappear as soon as the bey is destroyed, and it doesn’t stay with an old/broken bey that’s been discarded when a new bey has been made for it. Legend Spriggan was discarded and left on the riverbed, and Spriggan Requiem was then made from scratch, seemingly using no recycled physical parts from Legend Spriggan, but Spriggan Requiem’s bitbeast looks only very slightly different from Legend Spriggan’s. All of Shu’s Spriggans are honestly probably still the same creature, just progressively evolved. I don’t think we’ve ever seen somebody make an entirely NEW Brain Monster that does not resemble their original one, it seems the original simply gets developed more and more. One person apparently only possesses the ability to make a single individual Brain Monster. You Get One (1), but you can upgrade it. But what about Hearts? His Dead Hades, which very much had a Brain Ghost in it, was not only destroyed, but assimilated into Phi’s Revive Phoenix, to make Dead Phoenix. What happened to that situation, over time? We haven’t gotten to see. Is Hearts’ Hades truly actually fused with Phi’s Phoenix, ceasing to be its own entity anymore, or does Phoenix simply very slightly resemble Hades now due to its bey being upgraded with physical bits of Hades’ bey? What if it’s not even POSSIBLE to truly fuse Brain Ghosts, especially without consent? In which case...is Hades itself just lingering around back in Hearts’ brain, waiting for a new bey to inhabit, and Hearts isn’t making one because he doesn’t realize Hades isn’t just Part Of Phoenix now? That sounds potentially dangerous, there’s no more outlet for your Brain Ghost, buddy. I want to see Phi and Hearts again, to know what eventually happened there.

2. Why do the tournaments not actually enforce a rule that says “Your bey HAS to be able to be reasonably burstable”? Chouzetsu Wings and the Mugen Lock System did not equal disqualifications. Has it maybe, over time, been forgotten exactly WHY we Need Beys To Burst? Well, that’s a ticking time bomb, then. How difficult a bey is to burst does seem to directly cause its Potential Destructiveness Levels to scale accordingly. [With somewhat of an exception of Pot and his Pegasus, but it should be noted that Pot was not exactly terribly serious about beyblade initially and yet was STILL considered one of the strongest ‘bladers in the world, GT3 iirc, AND he’s very into the whole “Love and light, chillax, be in-tune with yourself and all the energy in and around you, etc.” peaceful thing.] This HAS To Be A Problem. Why is nobody concerned.

3. ...What is causing the general public not to panic about this? Why are people okay with Brain Ghost and Mass Spintop Destruction happening, instead of terrified? This shit is broadcast on TV. The stands during tournaments are packed with spectators. It may be that perhaps not everybody can SEE the Brain Ghosts themselves [and I’m skeptical about that, because there have absolutely been MANY indications that other people know what someone’s bitbeast looks like], but the Big Bada Booms they cause are DAMN sure Highly Visible. Aiga’s father seems to be the only one truly properly concerned about the incredible mass-destructive potential of the spintops. Realistically, The Salem With Trials 2: Electric Boogaloo should be happening due to the Scary Spintop Kids being Fucking Scary, and sometimes quite clearly even out-of-control of themselves.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is not a direction canon will ever go in, or I think it would have already done it. I don’t think they’re going to explore this route. It’s a shame I don’t have the chops for writing long-haul fanfiction, because if I did I would absolutely be hardcore capitalizing on this idea. This has incredible Worldbuilding Lore Potential.

[pastel-odette]

Revenge- A Banana Fish Fanfiction

This is a fic written for @emi-joanna. Sorry it took so long, I started work and college this past month. I hope it's as angsty as you requested!

(tws are properly tagged as tw _____)

“Eiji! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”

Eiji came rushing out of the house, locking up before making his way to the car. “What took you so long?” Aslan asked. Eiji opened up his satchel to reveal various snacks and sweets. “I had to grab the essentials,” he said with a smile. Aslan chuckled. “You really think we’re gonna need them?” “Yes!! During last year’s shrine visit you whined and whined about being hungry, so this time I thought I’d come prepared.” “How do you even remember that?” “Magic, my love. Now enough questions! Let’s go already!” It had been seven years since the couple had moved to Izumo. The first year had been the toughest. Despite being months out of the hospital, Aslan had still been reeling from the attack from Lao. The realization that even after Dino was dead, even after he thought he was finally free, someone still wanted to kill him had hit him extremely hard. He had felt foolish for thinking he would ever be anything other than what Dino made him. To hunt and be hunted, was that really all there was left for him? He had almost wished he hadn’t survived. He didn’t even understand why he survived in the first place.

The decision to move to Japan with Eiji did not come easy. Almost every part of him was screaming at him to abandon that hope that he could ever have a normal life. The physical distance made it seem more unattainable, too. However, Eiji was persistent. He would text every day, and call as much as he could. He was determined to make sure Aslan saw their original plan to move to Japan through.

Eventually, Aslan caved in. He said goodbye to New York, and started a new life with his soulmate. It wasn’t until he laid in bed that night, Eiji sleeping peacefully next to him, that what he did hit him all at once. An entirely new country with nothing to protect himself with.

For a while, they stayed at the Okumura family house. Eiji’s father was still in the hospital as he learned, so it was just the two of them, Eiji’s mother, and his sister. He felt surprisingly welcomed, like he was truly part of the family. It was strange to him to meet people so truly kind and hospitable upon first meeting. It wasn’t long until it started to feel like home.

But it still didn’t feel safe. He would lay awake at night, Eiji beside him, terrified of every little noise he heard. On the rare occasions where he did sleep, he would have terrible nightmares, and when he would jolt awake he would reach for a gun that wasn’t there.

The Okumuras noticed how fidgety and cautious he was. So, they installed a security system in their house. They did everything, big and small, to help him adjust to this new life. When Aslan and Eiji moved out into their own house, they took a lot of these things with them. The security system, the protective charms, the little statues of gods that could protect them. It stunned Aslan how… good he felt to be living this life.

Izumo is where Aslan had found peace and happiness. “We’re here,” Aslan said.

They made their way through the rows of trees together, surrounded by other people also dressed for the chilly weather. Some wore their traditional kimonos, some wore more casual winter clothes. As they approached the torii gates they saw a familiar person standing there. “Mari!” Eiji shouted as he waved to his sister. She waved back as she walked up and gave them both a tight hug. “How are your studies going?” Aslan asked with a soft smile. “Well, just as tough as last year. But I’m glad to finally be visiting again!” She beamed.

When Aslan moved to Japan, Mari was right there alongside Eiji to greet him. She was thrilled to meet him, and sympathetic when she realized Aslan had lived a much different life than her and her brother. It wasn’t long until she felt like his own sister. When she moved to Tokyo for college, he nearly cried with how proud he was.

“You’re not wearing mom’s kimono this year,” Eiji pointed out.

Usually, Mari would wear a deep blue kimono with a stunningly complex design depicting a soaring phoenix and a gold-colored obi. It was passed down through many generations until it was owned by their mother, and now her. Now she was wearing a pale yellow kimono with a much simpler chrysanthemum pattern and pink obi with a chrysanthemum obidome to match. Mari gave a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I just didn’t want something so… connected to her anymore. So my friends took me shopping and I found this. Don’t worry though, I didn’t throw away the other one or anything. It’s still in my closet.” “I think it looks good. Suits you,” said Aslan. Eiji nodded his head. This time, Mari beamed.

Being the very first day of the New Year, the temple was crowded with all sorts of people. The chozuya was completely packed, and it took them a few minutes before they were able to purify their hands. Ash always wondered if his hands could ever be truly pure, but he tried not to think about that as he poured the water. It was supposed to be a day of celebration and good luck. He didn’t want his thoughts to ruin that.

Every year, Aslan wished to the gods for protection. Protection from violence, from grief, from assault, from everything that made his life miserable for so long. This year was no different. However, there was something else this year he needed extra luck for. He prayed for that too.

Next, they went to exchange their omamori. Aslan chose the protection charm, as he did every year, and Mari chose the education charm. Usually, Eiji would get the protection charm just as Aslan did. This time he chose the success charm. “What goal do you want to be successful?” Mari asked.

“This year, I’m determined to have my own photo gallery.” It was a goal he had for a while, but this year he was going to have the luck of the gods on his side.

Finally, they needed to pull their o-mikuji.

“I’m a little nervous,” Mari jokes. Most of the time she had negative fortunes. However, this year, she would apparently have a future blessing (and small luck in her romantic relationships). Aslan was given half-blessing with lots of luck in travel. Then it was Eiji’s turn.

“Curse…”

“Well, it could be worse,” Aslan said, “at least you’re not super-mega-cursed.”

Eiji just sighed and folded up the paper.

“You’re not gonna read the rest of it?” “Nah. Not really a point.”

As they left the shrine, Eiji trailed behind and sulked.

Aslan gave Mari a nudge.

“You talk to him, you're the psychology major. I’m no good at this stuff.”

Mari nodded and went to walk beside Eiji.

“Listen, if it’s just a regular curse, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It’s mostly just little everyday inconveniences. The worst I’ve experienced with just a regular curse is that really bad breakup I had with Yui.” “With who??” “Hush, Aslan, this isn’t about you. Anyways, I don’t think you have anything to really worry about.”

When they get to the parking lot, they have to part ways. Mari made plans to go visit some of her old friends, and Aslan and Eiji had to return home, as they were going to host dinner that night.

When Aslan and Eiji arrived home, they were greeted by a very excitable golden retriever. They had gotten him about a year ago, when he was just a year old, from a local shelter. Even then, he still acted a little bit like a puppy.

“Hey, Bud,” Aslan said as he knelt down to pet Buddy. The dog jumped up to lick his face.

“Should we start dinner now?” Eiji asked as he put down his stuff and made his way to the kitchen.

“You can. Might as well. Just in case someone comes early or something.”

“You can’t just spend all afternoon petting Buddy, you know.” “I know, I know! I’ll help you in a minute.”

Buddy didn’t seem to mind all the extra attention he was getting, though. But eventually, Aslan had to go help his partner.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” asked Aslan as he put on his apron. He didn’t always help in the kitchen, his skill level was limited to basic survival foods, but over the years he got better and better at it. It felt very domestic, to cook alongside someone.

“How about you start on the datemaki? I’ll make the ramen.”

Aslan nodded, and they both started getting their ingredients. The kitchen was large enough that they could work around each other comfortably, and it wasn’t long until the kitchen started to smell delicious. Buddy noticed this, and trotted over to beg for treats.

“I have nothing for you,” Aslan said. Still, Buddy sat beside him, wagging his tail and giving him an expectant look. Aslan tried to ignore him as he started to whine, focusing on mixing the ingredients together.

“Here, Buddy!” Eiji called the dog, waving a large bone. Buddy instantly jumped up and ran over, wagging his tail furiously. Eiji then gave him the bone, which Buddy took to the living room happily.

“There we go, that’ll keep him occupied,” Eiji smiled. Aslan couldn’t help but smile back.

They continued cooking nonstop into the evening. As time went on, the more dishes they completed, and the more it started to look like a full meal. However, they were still pretty far from done.

Aslan sighed as he stretched. There was enough time to just take a tiny little break, he thought. He leaned against the counter and looked over at Eiji. His partner seemed distracted by something as he stared off into space.

“Hey.”

“Ah!” Eiji jumped, fumbling the bag of flour he was holding before dropping it on the counter.

“Ohhh no!” he exclaimed. Aslan chuckled slightly before helping his partner clean up the mess.

“Looks like your bad luck has officially begun.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Eiji said as he smacked the other with a floured towel. Ash looked down at his arm then back up at Eiji with a smile.

“Really? You wanna start this?” He dipped his thumb in the flour before smudging it across Eiji’s cheek.

“You’re on!”

And that’s how it started, a full-blown flour war.

Nothing was spared. Flour was thrown, smudged, and flew everywhere. The counters, the floor, their clothes, their skin, their hair and skin, all of it was covered in at least a thin layer of flour.

It was stupid, it was childish, they had wasted an entire bag just making everything dirty. But they didn’t care. It was fun. They were having fun and messing around together. At that moment, they weren’t thinking about having to clean up and get back to cooking, they just thought about each other.

The couple just laid on the floor together as Buddy sniffed around them before licking Aslan in the face.

“No, Buddy!” Aslan squealed, pushing Buddy’s face away. The dog just wagged his tail as his owners helped each other up.

“You’re a mess,” Eiji laughed.

“Speak for yourself! You’re even dirtier than me! Go take a shower, I’ll clean this all up.”

Eiji kissed Aslan’s floured cheek before going to wash himself and his clothes.

Once everything was all clean, both of them included, they had to work faster in order to get everything done by the time their guests would arrive. Occasionally, though, they would look over at each other, and laugh silently before getting back to work.

Eventually, they had a complete New Year’s Day dinner. Eiji set the table while Aslan arranged the food into the boxes.

“Well, I’d say it looks pretty good,” Aslan said.

“We make a pretty good team!” Eiji shouted from the dining room.

When everything was all set for their guests to arrive, they high-fived to celebrate their hard work. It was the first time they cooked for New Year’s all on their own, and it was the first time they would be hosting.

The first to arrive were Ibe and his wife, Namiko. They met shortly after he returned to Japan, and she was a very kind woman, the kind that got along with all her neighbors and would check in on them from time to time. The couple greeted their hosts warmly with hugs and a bottle of sake.

Buddy was thrilled to have guests, and quickly ran over to receive pets from two of his many favorite humans.

It wasn’t much longer after that when Mari arrived, and the party officially started. Chatter filled the house as they ate. They talked about everything that had happened during the past year, everything they accomplished, and everything they hoped to accomplish this year.

“Well, I have no complaints,” Ibe said, “We traveled a lot this year for work.”

“It was great! So many fun new places we visited,” Namiko said.

“Mine was just another normal year of classes. I made a new group of friends, and they’re really great," Mari said through a mouthful of food.

“We adopted our dog,” Eiji beamed. Buddy was resting in the living room. After a while of whining for food, he had finally given up, and they knew if they mentioned him by name he would come over and start begging again.

The party went on late into the night as they continued to chat and drink. Everyone’s spirits couldn’t be higher as they celebrated the past and welcomed in the future, giving a toast for good luck. Eventually, though, the night had to end. They said their goodbyes to each other, and the guests went home, leaving Aslan and Eiji to clean up.

Aslan felt content as he washed the dishes. It was a great night, surrounded by people he loved. Seven years in Japan. He hadn’t felt like Ash Lynx in so long. He felt like he had control over his life.

A partner, a house, a dog, a legal job, friends, a little sister. The old ladies on his street fawned over him as if he was free from sin. The local coffee shop knew his face and order by heart. Nobody feared him, they were all friendly towards him, and treated him as if he really was normal.

Oftentimes it felt unreal. But as he sat on the couch, Eiji nestled into his side, he knew it was.

“Thank you,” Eiji murmured.

“For what?”

“For helping out today. For everything you do. You’re so good to me.”

Aslan smiled softly.

“I should be the one saying that to you.”

“How about we’re both good to each other?”

“Yeah,” Aslan whispered, “I can agree with that.”

The next few days of the New Year were spent with Mari. The plan was for her to go back to Tokyo on the fourth, when the holiday was over, so they wanted as much time with her as they could.

During the Japanese New Year, businesses are closed for the next three days. They couldn't go to restaurants, shops, or the market. So mostly, they just spent time at Aslan and Eiji’s house. Watching TV, playing board games, and video games on the SNES they got a few years back. They could also go to the beach.

Izumo was a coastal town, with cliff sides to the north, and a long, thin strip of beach to the west. When the three of them stepped out of the car, they were glad they brought thick coats, as there was a cold breeze.

“Come on Buddy!” Eiji said as he opened the car door. The dog jumped out of the car, wagging his tail happily.

The beach was an important place in Izumo, something Aslan had learned shortly after he moved. On the northern shore of the beach, there was a very large rock with a small shrine on top, too high for humans to reach. Every October, the gods would come to Izumo, and convene at the beach and its shrine.

Aside from it being a spiritual place, the beach was also just beautiful. It reminded Aslan of when he was younger, when he and Griffin would run across the sand and splash in the waves. Sometimes, when he and Eiji would take a walk along the beach, they would see children or a family, and he would feel a bit of nostalgia.

Now, he walked this beach with his new family.

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky. They were only planning for it to be a relatively short walk, and would return to the car not long after the sun fully set. It was just nice to get some fresh air.

The trio walked in silence, aside from Buddy’s pants, until Aslan broke it.

“You know, Mari, you got a pretty interesting fortune this year,” he said.

Eiji caught on to what he meant. “Yeah! Are you excited for it?”

“For the future fortune? I guess so. It’s better than I get most years,” she said.

“No no, I mean about your romance fortune,” Aslan smiled.

Mari became slightly flustered, glaring at the couple. They just laughed in response.

“You should really get back out there again,” Eiji teased, “You’re not still heartbroken over Yui are you?”

Mari lightly punched her brother in the side.

“Of course not! That was the beginning of high school! Butt out of my love life!”

“But you, dear sister, are the one that butted into my love life when I went to America.”

“I shall have you know, dear brother, that I have matured since then. Besides, the charm I gave you worked, didn’t it?”

Eiji looked over at Aslan with a smile and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah. It did.”

The sun had begun to set at this point, halfway across the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, soft pinks and reds across the sky. The three stopped to admire it, Buddy sitting beside them.

“I think this is a moment worth capturing,” Eiji said. He got the polaroid camera from around his neck. They all posed close together, Aslan picking up Buddy so he could be in the shot, with the sunset in the background.

“Smile!”

Click.

The photo printed slowly, and Eiji shook it so it could develop faster.

It showed the four of them, happy in smiling, in the place they loved so much. They waited for the sun to set fully before returning home.

Instantly, the photo went up on their wall.

Unfortunately, the fourth eventually came, and Mari had to leave. At the train station, they said their goodbyes.

“Be sure to write!” Eiji said as she waved.

“I always do!”

With that, the train doors closed, and she left Izumo. Since it was the first day of the new year that businesses were open, Aslan decided he might as well go run some errands.

“See you at home,” he said as he pecked Eiji on the cheek.

“Mhm, see you.” Eiji waved goodbye to him.

The first stop was the coffee shop. Why not, right? It was a very cozy little shop and the majority of the patrons were locals and regulars. When the barista noticed him, he smiled.

“The usual?”

Aslan nodded, and the barista got to work. The coffee shop was relatively small compared to those in America, and it was warmly lit. As Aslan sat at the counter watching the barista he felt the chill of the mid-winter weather.

“Here’s your coffee,” the barista said as he placed the mug in front of Aslan. Most people see Aslan as the type of person to drink straight black coffee. And for a while, he was. As soon as he was “old enough” to drink coffee, he would drink it without sugar or creamer. It fit the persona he had and made him seem more mature to those around him. Now he didn’t care about any of that. He made his coffee super sweet. Tons of sugar, tons of creamer, because that was the way he actually liked it.

Usually, he would take the time to stay and chat with the barista for a bit. He was a funny and friendly guy, most of the reason Aslan liked this coffee shop in particular. However, today he had the odd urge to get home as much as possible. Maybe it was just because of the chill, he thought.

The next stop was the grocery store. They only really needed things to replace what they had used to cook dinner on New Years, including the flour that they had wasted.

He absentmindedly went through the small store until a voice called out to him from behind.

“My dear Aslan!”

He turned around to see his neighbor, Mrs. Tanaka. She was an old woman, kind as can be like almost everyone else in the neighborhood, who loved to garden in her front lawn and chat him up whenever she saw him. Aslan greeted her back and smiled.

“How have you been? How’s Eiji? Did you have a good new year?”

“Everything is good. How was your trip?”

The two chatted for a bit, catching up on things that happened since the last time they talked. Most of his neighbors he could strike up a conversation with just like this. It was the kind of neighborhood he could see himself and Eiji growing old in. It was a weird thought, to grow old with someone in a small town, but it was right.

They said their goodbyes, and Aslan continued shopping as normal.

When Aslan came home, the front door was unlocked. Huh. Maybe Eiji just forgot. However, when he opened the door, he was met with a horrible sight.

There lay Buddy, unmoving, in a pool of blood.

Aslan dropped his bags and rushed to his dear pet. He picked him up gently as tears began to fall.

How did this even happen? When? Why wasn’t he here to stop it?

That’s when he saw it. The wound on Buddy’s neck. A bullet wound. Someone… shot Buddy. There was no way. He was supposed to be safe in Japan. He was supposed to be safe with Eiji. Eiji... “Eiji!” he shouted. No response. He shouted again. The house was silent. Aslan gently placed down Buddy’s body. He had to make sure Eiji was okay. Eiji had to be okay, right?

Aslan crept through the house silently, listening for any sounds that might lead him towards Eiji or the intruder. As he approached the kitchen, he saw a pot on the stove bubbling over, so he turned off the stove. This whole thing must have happened fairly recently. A knife was also missing from the drawer.

Finally, he made his way to the bedroom.

What he saw terrified him.

Eiji. Sprawled across the floor, next to the open closet doors as if he had been pulled out, a knife in his hand. A bullet in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were stained with tears.

Ash fell to his knees. This couldn’t be happening. Eiji couldn’t be dead. He was dreaming, he was hallucinating, this was some kind of joke. What separated him from his old life now? What stopped him from being Ash Lynx again?

Ash sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. His love had been murdered. The bastard shot his dog, too. Why? He didn’t do anything. Neither of them did anything. It wasn’t fair.

He reached into the closet and pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver engagement ring. He picked up Eiji’s greying, cold hand and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“I know that we could never get married legally. But I still wanted to think of you as my husband. After all we had been through, didn’t we deserve that much?”

Eiji didn’t respond. His glossed-over eyes stared at nothing. Ash closed them.

“My soul will always be with you.”

--------

This might turn into a chaptered fic

Thank you to @syanara for betaing!

Tag list: @mycatshuman

[onceupona-chaos]

Belladonna Noctunis

Notes: One-shot, because spy Elain is living in mind rent free and I needed to get this out of my system 😂 As usual, forgive me for any English mistakes, it's not my first language. I just wanted to have some fun and try something new. Be kind!

Warnings: Language, violence and NSFW (mention).

After three days traveling without so much stop to sleep, the gloomy, seedy tavern looked like Flynn's particular paradise. Even with the dirty, wooden floor and the cobwebs on the corners, he'd never been happier whilst he took a long drink from his cheap beer.

Flynn had never been to Night Court territory before and although he found the rumours about the unparalleled night sky to be true, it was difficult to admire anything when you were too busy trying to not get caught. Either by guards or by the evil, bloodthirsty creatures that lived in that area.

But The Night Court was the perfect place for someone who didn't want to be found. The vast land had miles and miles of forests dangerous enough to make the bravest warriors hesitate. Even the Lord of Bloodshed would think twice before stepping into those places. Of course, the border shared with Day Court made it all easier as well.

Flynn let out a long sigh. Two more days in the back of a horse was all that separated him from his payer. The job hadn't been easy. It was the most challenging he'd done so far. But he and Akir had managed just fine.

Since Akir was the one who got the short stick, therefore the messy part of the job, it was only fair Flynn received the money. Still… whatever the prick was doing right now, it was better than being in this hellhole.

Most of the customers had already headed upstairs, the lucky ones with some company. Only a few other males remained in the tavern, sleeping miserably in their chairs, probably too drunk to even take a step, when exhaustion began to settle over Flynn, heavy like a blanket.

He was finishing his third beer, about to raise his hand to call the bartender to ask for one of the rooms upstairs, when a flash of purple and gold caught his attention.

He didn't hear her enter the room. But right there, taking a seat at the other side of the bar, was undoubtedly the most stunning female he'd ever seen.

In a lilac gown that did nothing to hide her curves, especially her backside, her golden-brown hair braided was thrown over one shoulder, exposing her pointy ears, a five petal withe flower behind the left one.

Beautiful, with pink lips that were begging to be kissed… She was every male's dream. Flynn didn't try to hide his eyes glued to her, scanning slowly that perfect face and traveling through the delicious curves of her body. She would be even more beautiful between his sheets, that was for sure.

Given that the bartender was almost drooling when he served her a glass of wine on the house, he probably was thinking the same thing.

Under the scarce faelights, she glowed so at odds with the dark tavern. It was strange, he admitted, that a stunning lady like her frequented such a place. But Flynn didn't pay so much attention to that. Not when doe-brown eyes found him already staring and a little, sweet smile curved her lips before she sipped from her glass.

It was everything he needed to approach her.

He made a point of lowering his voice before saying, "If I knew I would find the most beautiful female I've ever seen in the Night Court, I would have visited these lands sooner."

If it was possible, she was even more stunning from up close, with her soft, creamy skin and large eyes. And her scent… almost made him dizzy.

Her face remained neutral though, as if she had heard that many times before. Which probably she had. "A traveler, are you?"

He smirked, "I'm whatever you wish me to be, gorgeous."

At that, she let out a low laugh. Totally unimpressed as if he had told her the funniest joke she'd ever heard. And strangely that only made him want her more. He wanted to know what would take to make a classy lady like her give in, to make her crawl into his bed.

Every ounce of tiredness suddenly gone.

"If this is how you approach someone where you came from, I have pity on those females," she remarked.

"No one has ever complained. Maybe you just need to try something new." The words left his mouth before he even realized.

Flynn didn't know if it was the stress of the last days or the two months since he had sex. But he could already imagine every filthy thing he would do to her, every place he would fill her.

She didn't respond, only raised her eyebrows in disbelief. It was the sweetest thing that look on her face.

His voice dropped an octave, "Maybe you need an actual male to treat you the way you deserve."

A small blush stained her cheeks, but she just crooked her head and studied him. Her eyes assessing him from head to toe in a way that made him feel bare.

The female narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed her glass, standing from her seat, "What makes you think you are an actual male that can give me what I want?"

Her tone was quiet and low as if she was telling him all of her secrets. And damn him if he didn't want to know them all.

She moved toward a table in the corner, her hips swaying in a way that he couldn't help but watch.

A heartbeat later he joined her.

They talked for a while. The flirting, the innuendos slowly blending into meaningless conversation.

Usually Flinn wasn't one who would talk to get someone into his bed. He would rather pay to have what he wanted than having the job of talking nonsense. But for her… well, it wasn't everyday a pretty thing like that crossed his path. And he doubted she would appreciate it if he offered her money in exchange for a good time.

But also... maybe it was her easy smiles or her open expression, but she did have something that made him want to keep talking, keep the conversation alive.

The fact that she wasn't boring also helped to ease his impatience.

So there he was, talking about a particularly charming incident that happened to him at Solstice when he was younger. It had ended with him lost in the middle of a deserted beach named Prateada, completely naked.

He hoped she would get intrigued as to why he was naked in the first place, the perfect cue to smoothly shift the conversation to a more heated direction.

But the female tilted her head back and laughed. Strangely, he took satisfaction from it. Everything about her was sexy and lovely in the same, perfect measure. Gods, she was killing him. He wished things could go a little faster.

"So you're from Summer, then." She mused, propping her chin over her first.

He shaked his head, "My friend is from Summer, gorgeous. Actually he lives close to that beach, but he didn't come to rescue me, the little shit." Her laugh was a song to his ears and hopefully a promise of what it would come next. "But I'm from Day."

She asked, "Oh? And where is this friend of yours?"

Flynn didn't miss the suggestive edge hidden in her tone."Why? Interesting?"

She bit her bottom lip, and a delicious, deep pink colored her cheeks as she whispered, "You know what they say... three is a party."

Gods above.

His blood heated and his cock ached in his pants.

She was really just sitting there, pouring sweet nothings into the conversation, batting her eyelashes and making his head spin.

The delicate flared of her nostrils told him she smelled it, too. His arousal.

Flynn locked his gaze with hers and drained his drink to the edges, her eyes tracked every bob of his throat.

"Unfortunately for you, my friend had an urgent matter and had to head home. But two can make a party just fine."

She merely hummed and took a sip of her wine. "Sure about that? You do look tired."

"My journey has been tough." He added after a heartbeat, his words full of promise, "It takes more than that to make me tired, don't worry."

She nodded to herself before grabbing their glasses. He made to help her, but one look from her froze him in place. "Sit. I'll take care of you, tonight." And with that, she was gone.

Cauldron boil him alive.

His pants were getting tighter by the second. Flynn took a deep breath, shaking slightly in anticipation.

A beer was placed before him a few moments later and this time she didn't bother to sit across the table, pulling a chair to sit by his side. Her sweet scent hit him hard and he tried not to look too much at her cleavage as he drank his beer, but failed spectacularly.

"I heard the people in Day are very… concerned." She started, her delicate scent enveloping him. "After what happened in the High Lord's palace."

His eyes shot to hers, meeting those doe eyes of hers. Flynn kept his face careful blank, even though a wave of smugness went through his body. It wasn't everyday a plan was executed with such perfection - and right under the High Lord's nose. He knew he shouldn't be talking about it. But changing the subject would only make things more suspicious so he had to play along. "They have reason to be. No one saw who did it."

Flynn took another long sip from his beer, eyes still fixed on her. He didn't know if that scent of hers were messing with his senses, but we could swear even his drink was sweeter, his head lighter.

She inclined her body a little, getting closer to him as if she was about to reveal even The Mother's secrets. Her eyes flickered in a way that should be forbidden.

He felt chills going down his spine.

"It is disturbing, though." She went on, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, careful to not mess with the flower. "They say the palace wing where one of his lovers was killed is the most guarded one."

He chuckled, too lightheaded. "Perhaps the west wing guards were off duty that day."

Her grin turned wilder as she nodded. "Well… maybe they should be fired, don't you think?"

With that gods' damn scent of hers filling his nose, he couldn't take it anymore. He was too drunk in desire, the corner of his visions turning black. He couldn't even breathe right anymore.

He murmured, "Here I was, thinking you were a good girl."

His heart was beating fast when he dropped his head, aiming at last for those plumb, pink lips.

He wouldn't even make it to the room. No, he would exposed that beautiful backside right there, bent her over the table and fuck her hard, just the way he liked it.

Flynn was already sweating, his mouth was inches from hers - when he felt the air get caught in his throat.

Frowning, he pulled back and gasped slightly at first, swallowing hard as he tried to pull air into his lungs. But it was like his throat had become too tight all of the sudden.

Still trying to ease that feeling, he undid the first bottoms of his tunic.

But it was like there wasn't enough air in the world anymore.

The female didn't show a hint of concern as she stood just to sit on the table before him. Wine in hand, she just observed.

Sweat was pooling in his forehead, his own hands and feet going numb.

"You proved yourself to be a better company than I've imagined, Flynn," she said.

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

He knew he hadn't given her his name. His guard was down, but he wasn't so careless, so stupid. Or so he thought. A small, secret smile bloomed on her face. "Although I do think it's interesting that you know in which palace wing his lover was killed when this is private information of the High Lord."

His eyes went wild. Shit.

"You-", he gasped, looking between her and his drink as his numbed hands covered his throat. His vision darkened further, but he still looked at her, at that adorable, fucking flower behind her ear. And utter panic almost made his blood stop cold in his veins.

Only four petals remained.

"Belladonna Noctunis, in case you're wondering. I grow it myself." Her face was harder, any trace of amusement gone. "It wasn't enough to kill you."

The world got darker around them and Flynn noticed it wasn't only because of that damn flower she'd put in his drink. He tried to look around, but he couldn't see past that darkness, that veil of swirling shadows. Where the hell were the bartender or the drunks, he had no idea.

He was still gasping for air, his throat almost completely closed, when a male stepped from a shadow behind her as if he was hidden somewhere in between them. Enormous wings peeking over his shoulders. Ilyrian.

A shiver shook his body as shadows curled around the male, his eyes blazing between them. His voice was deep, but soft as he asked, "Are you ready to go, El?"

That wasn't a common power, Flynn knew that much. He had heard stories about it for centuries, but it was like his brain was as numb as his entire arm now. He couldn't quite place who those people were, not when he was in desperate need of air, his legs getting too heavy to even lift a foot.

A smile bloomed in her face at the sound of the male's midnight voice. "Yes."

Flynn's eyelashes were becoming heavy, sweat running down his face as he still tried to make sense.

The male walked toward them. "Do I need to make him speak more?"

She shook her head. "No, I already have our confirmation. And you owe me fifty golden marks, by the way. I know where the other one is, too."

Shit. Flynn tried to stand at Akir's mention, but his own body wouldn't obey him.

The male gave her a smile as well. "Of course you do," he murmured, chuckling. "You are the sweetest little minx."

She turned to the male, something sparkling in her eyes before asking, "Will you take care of him?"

The male stared at Flynn, his hazel eyes cold. No softness in his voice, no amusement curving his lips. No trace of any emotion now. "He will be our personal present to Helion. They both will."

Fuck. Fuck.

"Generous of you, my love." She was still smiling at the male when she took his scarred hand in hers.

But the way he'd say the High Lord's name, with such casualness as if he knew him… even with his mind and body almost giving up, Flynn saw through his panic, the pieces of a puzzle clicking slowly into place.

That remarkable, perfect face of her… and those shadows… They actually knew the High Lord of The Day Court, because they were members of the… what was the name, again? Inner Circle.

He had heard the tales that travelled through Prythian of how the powers of fate united three brothers and three sisters, including the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. And the Generals.

Which means… if the male was the Shadowsinger, if they were the High Lord and Lady of The Night Court personals spies...

The last thing Flynn saw was the face of the Kingslayer herself looking down at him - and then the Shadowsinger touched his arm and the world vanished into shadow.