#it's such a balm for all the pain of the other anime's in my life 😩💕💕💕💕

[maisbookstore]

The Seasons with You-Autumn

Michael Kaiser x fem! reader

Genre: smut, fluff (mdni!!!!!)

Warning: ooc Kaiser, description of s€x, grammar mistakes, minors kindly avoid this piece!!!!!

Keywords: lovesick Kaiser, lovemaking

A short description: Dear reader, take my hand as we take a look at how the untamable German prodigy, who has never received love in his life, gives a chance to Cupid. There are 4 seasons in a year, and Kaiser falls in love with Y/n in each one.

A quote from the fanfiction:

"-Who would want anything more than this? Who would love me more than you do? Who would feel so damn good around my dick? Scheise, I feel I could already cum right now. –His already pussydrunk words only fuelled the woman’s movements. Her eyes were hazy, lustfilled and her lips...oh those gorgeous lips begged to be taken, to be satisfied, to be his and his alone. Kaiser couldn’t help but smile as he rammed into Y/n, whose pleasure filled moans only hardened his already twitching member."

The sky above Munich was dark, only the citylights have been shining with centuries old pride, as the raindrops watered the concrete ground. October has arrived, bringing cold weather and rain to the Bavarian city in which Michael Kaiser and Y/n have resided. Ever since they’ve met, the couple felt like an unexplainable force has been pulling themselves closer day by day, to the point that it has become too painful to be apart from each other-even if only for a couple of hours.

That’s how Y/n found herself trapped under the German soccer player’s strong body.  His touch was desperate, similar to the shine in his blue eyes that strangely reminded the woman of the summer sky. Her eyes glimmered into his, filled with mirth. Oh how she loved to be with her dear Michael!

-I’ve been thinking of you all day long. Of those lips... –He pecked Y/n’s lips gently, before continuing this torturous act- Of that sensitive neck of yours...-He exhaled a warm kiss on the woman’s skin, who in exchange pulled the man’s head closer, but he just smirked at her before pulling away.

-Not yet sweetheart, don’t be impatient. –Kaiser tsked playfully at Y/n’s desperation, who only groaned at him.

-You tease! Fine, but two can play this game! –She grinned at Michael as her fingers danced on his torso, slowly dragging them lower and lower...

The man let out a quiet growl as his body reacted involuntarily, pushing his length into Y/n’s hand. She took it with excitement and started to caress Kaiser’s cock slowly, who in return kissed the woman passionately.

Their tongues danced around, fighting for dominance, while furious hands explored each other, like they haven’t done this before. That’s when Kaiser had enough and without further ado, he pushed deep in Y/n’s warm pussy. The woman moaned into the kiss as the soccer player started to move in and out of her.

Though they’ve only been together for a few months, it was like Y/n and Michael were made for each other. Their personalities completed each other: the woman was like a balm, a soothing elixir for the man’s broken heart, who gifted attention to Y/n, who’s been overlooked all her life, and for once, she didn’t have to fight for the things with bites and nails, because Kaiser graciously handed her the world. They craved each other’s vision, heart and soul, making everything more intense, more intimate. Even though Y/n still kept her apartment, she basically lived with the soccer player, who didn’t mind her company at all, moreover, he offered her many times to move in together.

They spent the nights together, melting into one. Sometimes their lovemaking was soft, gentle, while beautiful praises filled the room. Other times they craved each other, like mere wild animals in heat, fucking wherever they managed to: on the table, on the couch, on the floor, while standing, under the shower... and now in the bedroom, covered by warm blankets- which was totally unnecessary as their bodies have been radiating heat already.

-Fuck, sweetheart, your pussy is sucking me in, like a vacuum. How can it be so tight if we make love every day? –Kaiser grunted as he sank deeper into Y/n, who also let out a breathy moan upon feeling so filled by the mighty German’s big dick.

-Who would want anything more than this? Who would love me more than you do? Who would feel so damn good around my dick? Scheise, I feel I could already cum right now. –His already pussydrunk words only fuelled the woman’s movements.

Her eyes were hazy, lustfilled and her lips...oh those gorgeous lips begged to be taken, to be satisfied, to be his and his alone. Kaiser couldn’t help but smile as he rammed into Y/n, whose pleasure filled moans only hardened his already twitching member.

~

After about an hour, two exhausted body collapsed on the bed,each of them heavily panting, two pairs of eyes were holding such tenderness and bliss. Yes, their lovemaking was rough and full of passion this time, but that does not affect their feelings.

Kaiser got up after a few minutes and carried Y/n to the bathroom to wash away the smell of sex and all the mixed fluids that were oozing out of her.

-Move in with me, please. –He murmured a seemingly fruitless wish to the barely awake woman.

-Alright. –She answered with a soft voice.

The sky above Munich was pale blue with a few white clouds here and there. The rain has stopped already, leaving the city breathe, before embracing the upcoming winter. A huge truck appeared in front of a very modern, yet modest building, and five men were carrying numerous boxes in all size.

-They’re here already? –Asked the woman with panic, but the man only chuckled.

-Yes, let’s find a room for your things, in the evening we can put everything where you want.

-It’s not too late Misha...are you sure about this?

-I told you liebe already. I want you here. I want to create a home with you.

A home...

As Michael Kaiser looked out of the window, he could easily picture the memories this place would hold. All the love they’d give each other. All the happiness, sadness, anger, joy, everything...

His eyes found Y/n’s e/c ones again, which were shining with hope...just like his.

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 8/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: in which the “fake” in fake dating starts to rear its ugly head

a/n: probably the most painful thing i’ve ever written

word count: 2.2k

masterlist w/ all parts

“How was practice?”

Azzi gently stirred the mug of hot chocolate as she carefully brought it over to Paige, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

“Pretty good. Worked on our box and one defense.” Paige brought the mug to her lips but Azzi halted her, leaning over to blow on the steaming liquid first. “Careful. It’s hot.”

The younger girl took a seat on the couch, bringing Paige’s feet onto her lap. This is how their past few nights had looked like - Azzi rubbing Paige’s legs while recounting practice detail by detail, from the conditioning to the drills to the scrimmages. It was slightly exhausting giving such a complete run down of their entire three hour practice, especially since Paige tended to asked questions that seemed irrelevant, making the whole spiel last even longer, but from the way the blonde listened intently, Azzi knew that this was how she was coping.

So these days she’d found herself stopping to take notes during practice, of important things that Geno said or observations she made of their plays, so that Paige would have something interesting to hear about.

“That’s good.” Paige pressed the heel of her foot against Azzi’s thigh, sending her a soft smile. “I missed you today.”

Azzi pinched Paige’s skin, a playful grin on her face. “You just saw me yesterday.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. It gets so lonely in here. Going outside is so tiring with crutches and shit.” Paige leaned her head back, breathing hard. When Azzi didn’t respond, only comfortingly patting her leg, she took it as a sign to continue. “I can’t even hang out with the girls no more because I feel like I’m dragging everyone behind, pathetically limping and trying to catch up.” Paige was on a rant now, her pent up anger seeping through her words. “But then I can’t go out alone, cuz sometimes people will start swarming me like I’m an animal at a zoo, and I can’t even escape because of my stupid leg.”

Paige was heaving now, and she was surprised when she looked down and saw that a wet drop had fallen on the collar of her shirt. Touching her cheek with her fingertips, she’d realized that tears had started to fall. “This is so stupid,” Paige grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m getting emotional over this shit.”

“Hey.” Azzi’s voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Paige’s wounds. “It’s not stupid. I get what you mean. I tore my ACL in high school. People always talk about the obvious struggles like not being able to play and stuff, but they don’t know about all these little things that make even daily life so hard.” She gently swiped her thumb over a tear rolling down Paige’s cheek. “I might have a solution to your problems, though.”

“What?” Paige perked up, suddenly interested.

Azzi smirked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

————————

The next day, when Azzi opened the door of Paige’s apartment with the key that she’d been gifted, she came with a shiny wheelchair in tow.

She heard Paige moving around in the bathroom, so she rushed to hide the wheelchair behind the couch before the blonde could step out. The water from the faucet started running, and soon Paige limped out on her crutches.

“Oh my god, you scared me for a second,” Paige laughed.

Azzi slowly winded her arms around the older girl’s waist. “Guess what?”

Paige kissed the corner of Azzi’s mouth, trying to calm her heart that was now racing just from seeing the girl. “What?” But Azzi didn’t respond. She merely grabbed Paige’s crutches with one hand while supporting her waist with the other. She tossed them to the side, laughing at the confusion on Paige’s face.

“Are you gonna magically heal my knee?” Paige asked sarcastically, gripping into Azzi’s elbow for dear life.

“Nope. But today we’re going out, and all you’ll need is this.” Azzi slowly guided Paige to the couch, where she pointed at the wheelchair.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Yes, way.” Azzi made sure Paige was steadily holding on to the couch before jogging to retrieve the wheelchair. “When I tore my ACL I had the same issue. I felt all pent up in my room but crutches were way too big of a nuisance. So my dad surprised me with a wheelchair and he’d just take me to the park and stuff so I could get some fresh air without having to hobble everywhere.”

Paige situated herself into the wheelchair, still in disbelief at the kind gesture. She felt Azzi run her hands through her hair, collecting and bringing it back, exposing the nape of her neck for her to brush her lips against. “Ready?” she murmured against her skin.

“Fuck yes.”

————————-

Paige never thought she’d be so happy to be in a wheelchair. But here she was, being pushed by Azzi around the Storrs campus, and she’d never felt so giddy.

At first, they walked quietly, without aim. Paige would occasionally point things out and Azzi would respond with a hum. Every so often Azzi would let her fingernails lightly scratch across Paige’s shoulders, a soft reminder of her presence, and both were content.

“Oh my god, Az. There’s ice cream.” Paige turned around and gave such adorable puppy eyes that the dark haired girl could only roll her eyes affectionately and give in. When Paige started quietly chanting, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream,” Azzi shook her head, marveling at how to everyone else, Paige as a big and intimidating all star athlete, but to Azzi, she was just a dork.

“You wanna share?” Paige asked, studying the menu with the most concentration and thoughtfulness that Azzi had ever seen from her.

“Only if we get mint chip.”

“So you like toothpaste. Gotcha.”

Azzi leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You weren’t saying that last night.” The blonde immediately blushed, recalling how while they’d brushed their teeth last night, Azzi had looked so gorgeous that she couldn’t help herself but kiss her right then and there. Azzi had shrieked and pushed her off, but Paige had chuckled, pressing another toothpastey kiss to her cheek.

But Paige quickly recovered. “Well, anything tastes good when it’s on your lips.” This time it was Azzi’s turn to blush furiously.

For the rest of their “walk,” Paige focused on slurping her ice cream cone, occasionally lifting it up for Azzi to take a bit.

“You ate basically all of it,” Azzi complained once Paige had popped the last piece of cone into her mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you asking for a bite from all the way up there,” Paige mocked.

Azzi leaned over the back of the wheelchair, staring at Paige upside down. “You’re an idiot,” she’d laughed as she’d pressed her lips to Paige’s.

“Very nice,” Paige approved once they broke apart. “Like Spider-man.”

The girls heard a high-pitched squeal come from behind them, and they both turned around, surprised to see Leo barreling towards them.“That was so cute!” Paige looked down, noticing the camera in Leo’s hand. “But do you think you could redo that kiss, with everything exactly the same? My lens went out of focus so the video came out kinda blurry.”

“What?” Paige looked at Azzi to see if she was just as confused as they were, but Azzi was staring icily at Geno’s daughter, her jaw clenched and rigid.

“Uh, for the documentary?” Leo held up her camera, as if that explained everything. “Azzi, I knew I agreed not to come yet, but this was so great! I think after this we can just move onto the interviews. I won’t be needing any more content.”

“Leo,” Azzi said roughly, taking a menacing step towards her. “Please leave.”

“What?” The peppy brunette looked taken aback.

“No, don’t leave,” Paige interjected. She looked between the two of them in disbelief. “Does someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Now Leo looked confused. “Azzi? I thought you told her?”

“Fucking hell.” Azzi let go of the wheelchair, pressing her palms against her temples. “I was going to,” she mumbled. “I swear I was, but-”

“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on right now.” Paige heard her own voice, and it took even her by her surprise. She hadn’t used a tone so filled with malice and aggression against Azzi since before they’d started this whole thing, and right now that felt like decades ago.

Leo looked hesitantly at Azzi before saying softly, “Um, I know the truth about you guys. That you two aren’t actually dating.”

Panic rose up in Paige’s throat. “Fudd, you told her?”

“I didn’t tell her!” Azzi said quickly, her voice all nervous and high pitched. “She overheard one of our conversations and asked me about it.”

“But I told her I’d keep the secret to myself, including from my dad, as long as you guys would agree to keep doing my segment. It’s way too late into the semester to throw my whole project away,” Leo defended.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azzi’s heart lurched at the wounded look in Paige’s eyes. She glanced at Leo. This was not the way she’d planned for this conversation to play out, in front of Leo and in public, with some people now staring at them.

“I-”

“Wait.” Paige interrupted. “So why is Leo here right now? Can someone explain that?”

Leo looked guiltily down at her camera, as if she’d just been caught red handed. “Well, you’ve been out with your ACL, so you haven’t really been around to help film for my doc. Which I totally understand, it’s really terrible what happened. But then I realized I was really running short on scenes, and they’re due in a week, so I asked Azzi if there was any chance that I could get any more candids of you guys.” A headache was starting to form behind Paige’s eyes, throbbing and threatening to split her skull. “Azzi texted back and said that she was taking you around campus today, and that I could come get some shots if I wanted,” Leo finished, staring at the ground.

“I told you that you could get some shots after I gave you the say so.” Azzi spit, her eyebrows drawn together in fury as she glared at Leo. “Not whenever the fuck you wanted, just following us like creeps.” Azzi leaned down until she was eye to eye with Paige. “Listen, P. I was planning on telling you that Leo knew. And I was planning on asking you for permission for her to come take some shots at the end of the day, so that she’d have enough to turn in. I was planning on doing all this before Leo came, but I forgot.” Azzi’s voice came out patched and broken. “I swear I wouldn’t have let her if you’d said no.”

Paige‘s knuckles clenched tight, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hand so hard that she started to draw blood. Of course.

Why else would Azzi show up to her apartment with this godforsaken wheelchair, with that stupid big grin of hers, and offer to spend her entire day pushing Paige around like a servant? Azzi hadn’t cared that Paige had opened up to her, been vulnerable to her about how difficult it had been to be stuck on crutches, helpless and incapable. No, she’d wheeled Paige around in order to look like a hero, to look like the model girlfriend in front of Leo’s dumbass cameras, motivated to save her own ass from being kicked off the Europe trip.

All of the times Azzi had shown up to her apartment, groceries in hand, had stayed for a movie and fallen asleep on Paige’s shoulder? Those moments had meant everything to Paige, and nothing to her. Paige cursed herself for letting her guard down, for letting herself fall in love with Azzi Fudd. For letting herself believe that they could be anything more than enemies.

She turned to Leo. “Take me home,” she demanded, her voice cold.

“Paige, wait.” Azzi scrambled furiously to stand in front of the wheelchair. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“Understand what? The fact that you know I have a hard time opening up to people, yet when I finally opened up to you about my insecurities about using crutches, you immediately took advantage of that?” Paige laughed, but it was bitter and hollow because right now, nothing was funny.

“That wasn’t my intention at all. You can’t-”

“You know what?” Paige interrupted. “I can’t even be mad at you. This is what we agreed to after all. Fake dating. Nothing less, nothing more.” She laughed bitterly. “In fact, I should thank you for being the reasonable one. For not being stupid enough to get your feelings involved like I did.” Paige bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. “This was really a genius plan. Lugging the cripple around, getting her ice cream like she’s a poor child that needs to be saved. You’re smart, Fudd, I’ll give you that.” Paige hated it, the way Azzi was recoiling into herself because of her words, but she couldn’t think. She could only feel, and right now she was feeling a whole lot of hurt.

Leo nervously took ahold of Paige’s wheelchair.

“Paige, you don’t even know what you’re saying,” Azzi said. And apparently Paige was better at controlling her emotions than Azzi was, because Azzi was crying now, forcing words through her tears.

Paige cut her off again. “Save it.” She motioned for Leo to push, and they began heading in the opposite direction. “Don’t bother coming to my surgery.”

Paige hadn’t meant that. Oh god, she hadn’t meant that. They’d talked about her surgery just days earlier - Azzi had joked that she would fill up Paige’s entire apartment with stuffed animals to await her return; she’d joked that she’d show up to her hospital room from the first visiting hour and stay until the last, nagging and bothering Paige the entire time until Paige begged her to leave; she’d joked that she’d bring the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers she could find so that she would outshine all the other measly attempts at flowers that people would bring. Paige had laughed, but in her head, she’d thought about how much she wouldn’t have minded if Azzi actually followed through with her words. About how the first face she wanted to see after her surgery was Azzi, and only Azzi. But she hadn’t said any of that, had instead giggled and swatted Azzi on the shoulder.

But now, the distance between them grew further and further, and it took Paige everything not to break apart right then and there.

[vinterdrape]

i just can't do this anymore, fem!viktor lives in my thoughts completely rent free, and i think about her constantly, so…

some of my thoughts about fem!viktor (viktoria). you can consider it modern uni au or something like that. and my lil collage!

i think viktoria is lonely. she has been lonely all her life. she always felt like a burden, an outcast, ‘not enough’, although she carefully hid it under the mask of quiet indifference. viktoria has no friends. she had a friend, sky, who moved to another city, and now the girls rarely see each other. but viktoria has already gotten used to it. she began to call her loneliness ‘a solitude’ a long time ago, noting that it was definitely her choice, and not the unfair pranks of life.

i think viktoria would have liked to have a friend group. you know, the kind where everyone is like sisters to each other, where there is support and warmth and care, where there is laughter and sleepovers and good moments. but, unfortunately, viktoria always ended up being unfriended. she tried to be part of a group of girls, but she always was the one who was hobbling along the road at the back, while a few of her friends walked in front. she didn't blame them. she knew she was pretty hard to be with.

i think viktoria is not really interested in the beauty industry. she perceived the standards imposed by society as stupidity that does not deserve so much attention. but then why was she always laughed at because of her hairy legs? is it really so hard for people to understand that it is quite difficult for a girl, who can barely walk, to shave her body? and that she simply does not want to waste her time on something that will bring her back pain, unwanted cuts and irritation on her sensitive skin? what a nonsense...

i think viktoria's life is not as terrible as it might seem at first. there are white stripes between the dark ones. she's not one to give in to despair, after all. viktoria loves to study. she loves science. any kind of science. she loves solving sudoku, taking herself on dates to coffee shops or libraries, she loves to draw a little. viktoria, although far from knowing how to do makeup, loves to treat herself to a nice-smelling lip balm or a pretty hair clip. it's not that she's picky about it. it's just the little things that make her life better. she also loves animals, children, potted flowers, cool weather and comfortable loose clothes. she loves rainy mornings and green tea when coffee is too much for her body. yeah, her life is definitely not that bad.

I think viktoria met jayce completely by accident. he was her classmate and, surprisingly, was not as ‘popular guy’ as he could have been with his looks. they were paired up to do a chemistry lab assignment. then, if viktoria hadn’t corrected jayce’s formula, there could have been an explosion. a small one, but still unpleasant. jayce realized then that he was head over heels in love. and viktoria realized that he was a silly guy. they then went to have lunch together during the long break in the backyard of the university. viktoria was surprised that jayce didn’t walk too fast, adjusting to a pace that was comfortable for her. for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to catch up with someone.

i think when viktoria had her birthday, jayce prepared a little surprise for her. he made her a notebook and a hydrangea pendant himself, because those were her favorite flowers. viktoria was amazed then — she had never received such a thoughtful gift. and jayce got his first kiss on the cheek that wonderful morning.

i think viktoria had a lot of insecurities, although she didn’t show it. she thought she was too tacky for jayce. too awkward, too unhealthy, too ugly, too… jayce interrupted this train of thought one cool winter evening when they were sitting in his room, wrapped in a soft blanket, and eating chips. he asked if he could kiss viktoria. and he blushed really badly. the kiss was awkward: a little slobbery, there were crumbs everywhere, and they bumped noses a couple of times. but they were happy.

i think viktoria loves jayce. and jayce loves viktoria.

[h4rkonn3n]

Sunshine and Shadows

vulnerable!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

a/n: this is my first ever project i’m so sorry if it’s bad!! This is a one-shot of Bucky and Reader. Overcoming trauma with fluff (??)

summary: She helps him overcome trauma with her gentle heart

She had always been a beacon of light. At twenty-two, she carried herself with an effortless grace that seemed to soften even the hardest edges of the world. Her laughter was a melody that echoed through the halls of the New York safehouse where she often spent time with Steve Rogers—her steadfast friend, a man who had lived through wars and battles but still kept a hopeful spark alive in his heart.

Steve had trusted her from the moment they met. She had an old soul with a kind heart, the kind that could warm the coldest room. But there was something else—something almost magical—about her presence. She wasn’t just Steve’s friend; she was, without knowing it, the light Steve desperately wanted to shine into the dark corners of his own past, especially those tied to his oldest and most tormented friend: Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

Bucky. The name still hung heavy in the air whenever Steve thought about him. The man who was once his brother in arms, now lost beneath layers of manipulation and pain. Steve had tried everything to reach him—to pull him back from the shadow of the Winter Soldier’s identity. But nothing seemed to break through the walls Bucky had built.

Then came her.

It started with small moments. Bucky, who had always been distant and cautious, began to soften when the woman was around. She didn’t treat him like a weapon or a mystery to solve. She treated him like a person—a man worthy of kindness. her innocence and purity were like a balm to Bucky’s weary soul. Where others saw a broken soldier, she saw a person deserving of light.

One afternoon, Steve watched from the doorway as Bucky and the woman sat in the garden behind the safehouse. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting a golden glow over the scene. Bucky’s usual guarded expression had softened, replaced by something almost tender. She was telling a story, her hands animated and eyes sparkling with joy.

“You really believe in all that?” Bucky asked, half-joking, half-curious.

The womanhood and smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. “I believe in hope. In people. Even when it’s hard to see.”

For Bucky, those words were strange yet comforting. He had spent so long in darkness that hope felt like a distant memory. But with her, it felt almost possible again.

Days turned into weeks, and Bucky found himself seeking her company more often. She never pressed him about his past or his pain. Instead, she shared stories about the simple things she loved: the way the city smelled after rain, the thrill of a good book, the joy of watching sunsets.

Steve noticed the change and it both relieved and worried him. He wanted Bucky to heal, but he feared the woman’s purity might be shattered by the harsh realities of Bucky’s past. Yet, she remained steadfast. She was untouched by fear or prejudice, only driven by a deep desire to bring light to those around her.

One evening, under a sky painted with stars, Bucky opened up to her in a way he never had before. The words tumbled out—fragments of memory, guilt, and longing. She listened without judgment, holding his hand gently.

“You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. “I see you. The real you. Not the soldier, not the Winter Soldier. Just you.”

Tears slipped down Bucky’s cheeks, a rare and vulnerable moment. Her presence was a reminder that even the darkest past could be softened by genuine love and acceptance.

Over time, Bucky’s fragmented memories began to reassemble, piece by piece. Steve continued to support him, but it was the woman’s unwavering light that made the difference. She was the sunshine in his life—untouched, innocent, and pure—showing him that he could find peace beyond the shadows.

Together, the two of them forged a new kind of family, one built not just on battles fought side by side, but on the quiet strength of hope, healing, and the power of her unwavering belief in the goodness buried deep within a broken soldier.

Masterlist

[bullet-prooflove]

Traditions - Angel Reyes x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Decorations!

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics '@crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @storiesofsvu

Following on from the Taken!Series

It’s the first time since Marisol’s death that Felipe’s house is being decorated for Christmas. Angel, EZ and Felipe don’t usually celebrate the season, instead they have a couple of beers, watch a few movies and let the day pass them by. You’re not much different. You’ve been on your own since your Nana died, you used to spend the day in the fields with your music on, collecting buds or in the apothecary making the balm that soothes away all of those aches and pains. Now there’s a child in the mix things are different. Angel’s decided to go all out and that apparently includes buying the largest Christmas tree known to man.

“She’s four months old.” You remind Angel as him and EZ wrestle with getting the tree through the front door. “I don’t think she minds how big the tree is.”

“I tried to tell him.” EZ tells you as he guides the trunk into the stand and begins to twist the pins that hold it in place. “But he was adamant, it had to be this one. I think Valeria’s first Christmas is making him a little nuts.”

“Then I guess we’re doing this thing.” You say, your palm brushing over Valeria’s fine dark hair as she snuggles even deeper into your chest.

“You are doing this thing.” EZ corrects you, kissing his niece on the top of the head. “I have hampers to deliver, you get to deal with all of his madness.”

“Traitor.” You accuse as you walk him to the door.

EZ gives you that shit-eating grin of his as you shoot him the middle finger. You watch him climb on his bike, raising Valeria’s hand to wave goodbye before you close the door behind him. When you turn to face the tree, it feels like it’s even bigger than it was two minutes ago. You can hear Angel in the other room, rooting through the box of decorations that he’d brought down from the attic.

“OK kid, your dad’s gone a little crazy but we’re gonna lean it into it ok?” You say to Valeria as her tiny fist grips the fabric of your shirt. “We’re just gonna lean right into it.”

***

Valeria is asleep by the time you’ve finished decorating the living room. The tree glows from the corner of the room, bathing it in a warm light as the two of you sit on the floor alongside Valeria’s bassinet. The scent of pine floods your nostrils, the sound of Bing Crosby’s Christmas album playing on the decade’s old stereo. You’re both drinking hot chocolate, not the instant kind. One made from traditional cocoa, something Angel had picked up along with the whipped cream and marshmallows.

It's perfect, this moment. Your little family taking a breath and enjoying the holidays. It’s been a hell of a year with everything that happened with Skye and then your recovery but you’re here celebrating the holiday season with your lover and daughter.

“You know, I thought you’d gone a little insane with all of this but now I get it.” You say as you survey the room, the tiny family heirlooms on the mantlepiece, the fairy lights intermingled with the wreath. “It’s beautiful.”

“You thought I’d lost my mind, didn’t you?” Angel teases as his lips brush over your temple.

“A little.” You admit, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “But I get it. You want the perfect Christmas for our little girl, something like the ones you remember from your childhood.”

“My mom used to make it so special.” Angel tells you as his gaze comes to rest on the tiny handmade ornaments he’d made with his mom once upon a time. “Even when we were grown, we’d still come over, help her decorate. I want traditions like that with Valeria, with you...”

His hand comes to rest upon your stomach, his thumb smoothing over the place where his son resides. He knows it’s a boy, he can feel it in his bones. “Our new baby.”

“You haven’t told anyone right?” You murmur, your palm coming to rest upon his. “It’s still too early.”

“No Mi Reina I haven’t.” He says, tipping your chin up so you can meet his gaze. There’s such love in those eyes, such tenderness, such adoration. His lips brush over yours and it’s the sweetest kiss, so soft, so meaningful. His thumb ghosts along the line of your jaw and he smiles just a little as you moan into his mouth. “Isn't that what got us here in the first place?”

He draws away as Valeria mumbles grumbles in her sleep, his gaze slipping to his daughter.

“I can’t believe how blessed I am.” He tells you, his warm fingers splaying over your abdomen. “You, Valeria and little peanut are the best gifts I could have asked for.”

“It’s going to be a great Christmas.” You say entwining your fingers with his. “The best one yet.”

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mysdrymmumbles]

The Hope in a Hug

So a while ago, @citrusbunnies mentioned that they wanted to see something about Karlach being able to touch people after forever, and I dunno if I quite hit what they were aiming for, but I thought I'd try my hand at it.

Happy New Year!

---

For ten years, Karlach has suffered in the Hells, betrayed and sold by a man she trusted completely, a man she looked up to. When she finally found her chance to escape, she was so sure that things would be better.

And to a degree, they are. She is no longer trapped in the endless, pointless Blood War. She is free from her mistress, free to make her own choices, to live her own life.

At least, that’s what she repeats in her head and as she goes to sleep—alone—every night.

It is autumn when Karlach returns to the material plane, and those first few days that she is back are utterly glorious. To see the world in its full array of colors, leaves changing, the sky a cold blue, to catch sight of the occasional woodland creature flitting into the woods, to see frogs at streams of cold, clear water…

It is a balm on her tortured soul.

However, even though she has left the Hells, they have not left her.

She walks through the material plane now, but she is still so far removed from it that part of her wonders if she wouldn’t be better back in Avernus. It is a part she always quells quickly, but the question resurfaces again and again.

She knows the air is crisp, but cannot feel it through the flames that flicker in her veins and across her skin. The water is cold, but it steams when she dips her hands into it. Flowers wither and smoke at her touch. She doesn’t dare try to coax any of the animals to her.

And people…

Gods, but she wishes she could touch someone. 

She misses sex, of course, but what she wants more than anything, more than that, is just simple touch. She wants to brush a leaf off a friend’s shoulder without leaving a scar. She wants to hold their hand, tousle their hair, sling an arm around their shoulders without them yelping in pain. 

But if she touches anyone, she burns them.

Her new companions are sympathetic, mostly. They help her find an infernal blacksmith on the material plane—what luck—but even as they promise that they will keep searching for a cure, even as Dammon swears he will try to come up with a way to settle the fires in her engine, they hurt her.

It is unintentional, and she feels terrible for even thinking it, but the truth is it hurts to watch the rest of them. Hands on shoulders, elbows nudging, and—as it gets colder still—the others often find themselves huddling together at night, bodies pressed together for warmth.

Karlach wishes she could curl around them, with them. She wishes she could just feel them. 

Gods, but it really is like she’s still trapped in her own personal bubble of Avernus. 

She keeps her tone cheerful, tries not to think about it.

There are moments when the flames burn so hot in comparison to the world around her, that she thinks she might melt away. She dares to complain once, and her companion is quick to assure her it will be alright.

But it is so hard to believe that blind optimism.

It is the sort of hope that has fueled her for the last decade and now that she is here, now that she is so close to home, it feels like that hope has become too strained, like with the miracle she has managed, asking for more is too much.

Karlach presses on because that is all she can do. 

When they find Dammon again in the shadowcursed lands, he meets her with a wide grin and a handful of schematics he has been sketching. She almost cries when she realizes that he has not stopped thinking of her since they last parted ways. 

That never would have happened in the Hells.

More so is her disbelief when they hand him their hardwon infernal iron and he knows exactly what to craft. He makes the adjustments, she sets them into place.

And then there is a terrifying moment where she stands there, wondering.

Is it enough?

Has she finally regained what Zariel took from her?

The answer to that is that there are things that she will never get back, and she knows this, but in the moment when arms loop around her, tug her tight, she knows that at least a small piece of her has been returned.

Even an archdevil couldn’t take everything.

More arms encircle her, and soon she is standing in the middle of cluster of friendly embraces, held for the first time in a decade, by half a dozen people who love her.

Damn, it feels good.

There is nothing comparable.

In the coming days, when she finds herself still halting her hand before thwacking a friend’s arm only for them to playfully reach out and nudge her, when she finds arms looping with hers and heads resting on her shoulders at the campfire, none of it feels real.

As she lays in camp, with companions squabbling over who gets to cuddle up next to the best heat source in all of Faerun, she sometimes wonders if this is a dream. If she lets herself drift off to sleep, will she wake up surrounded by charred corpses? 

Will she wake up in Avernus?

Each morning that greets her with that pale cold that makes her breath puff in front of her lips strengthens her hopes, renews them. 

By the time they reach Baldur’s Gate, she does not hesitate when she reaches out to grab shoulders, does not stop herself when she tousles hair and laughs at the way her companions become so playfully disgruntled.

She can feel the strain of the engine inside of her. She knows that it will not last much longer.

But damn if these aren’t some of the best moments of her life.

It’s not fair that a few short months are all she gets after a decade of utter despair, but she tries not to think that far ahead.In the moment, in the now, if she needs a hug, she can reach out for one, and that is enough.

[librarianandguardian]

My Moonshine - Geto x GN!Reader

Pairing : S2!Geto Suguru x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word count : 2 938 (= 7 Google Doc pages)

Warnings : Canon Divergence (of some sort), Mentions of dark thoughts, looming dread of death (just looming), angst/comfort

/!\ Spoilers for the end of the 1st part of JJK Season 2. Proceed at your own risk /!\

A.N : Okay... I know I post every new blood moon... But hey new fic ! Bear with me, I needed to comfort myself after seeing the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death Arc animated. I was dreading to see it animated because... Heartbreaking. Just as scared for Shibuya. Anyway definitely Canon divergence I'M HERE FOR IT OKAY.

Being a good exorcist was easy. Being a talented exorcist could come from two paths : birthright or hard work. You considered yourself a hard working one. The cursed technique bestowed upon you yielded terrifying consequences. But offered wonderful opportunities. Water. The element of life, creating and keeping alive. The spirits of Nature were and are to this day, the kindest beings of this world. So their wrath can be as burning as their love for their disciples.

And you started to wonder if you hadn’t offended someone. Hand on your right flank, your body, folded in a corner, was waiting for the curses to pass by you. Though, there seemed to be little chances of survival with the scent of your blood everywhere on the floor. This mission was supposed to be in, kill, out. One curse, one hour maximum to find it. Yet your life was flashing before your eyes, a gentle sob needing to spill out. Time couldn’t rob you like that. Not now.

The celestial body was dead, Haibara-kun too and Nanami quit to be “normal”. All your friends fell through repetitive depressive episodes; Shoko started drinking atop of her smoking habit, Gojo though more mature was now endangering students, fighting more and more with Geto, whom blamed himself for the death of Riko and Haibara. Geto… Your moonshine. With his man bun. His stupid wit. His ease. When everything was going to hell, you would both bitch about Gojo together, pass out on the common room’s couch in eased silence, dance on new tracks with Shoko by your side. He always had bad days, but they were becoming more and more violent. And all these rituals were less and less vibrant. He never fell asleep; he hummed, no more wits; stared with an empty look at that wall while listening to new tracks. Honestly ? You were so used to grieving that cheering people up became a reflex.

Cry at night, smile to people to shine. Be their light.

You knew it was bad for you. But your heart couldn’t bare to see others endure what you had.

Be the balm you didn’t have back then.

Another hard truth ? Your mind was cracking. Only two years had gone by. Your pain drowning you slowly, week by week. No one was cheering up. You were feeling useless. Just like this instant. Curled up in a ball, life draining slowly. Exhausted from your first insomnias these past few days. Surprised on a dangerous mission. Why did the higher-ups send you alone on this ? Did they see how useless you were becoming as you aged ? No… Why would they…

Low growls neared your corner. Rusted furniture was protecting you for now. Maybe their ironish smell would fool them. Or did they fool you ? No wish of yours had ever been so strong than the one clouding your mind right now.

Heat Wave. A fan. A white ceiling with bamboo planks. Shorts and tank tops. An opened couch and pillows. Suguru softly breathing next to you, his phone battery dead, one earbud in, the other out, a bit of saliva running out of his mouth. The window bay opened, the one facing the fresh forest, the gentle stream passing through the pond tinking. Stars in a clear sky, accompanied by the moon.

Why did you get the exact opposite ? And the sounds you wished to hear again…

“Thank you, Droplet. My heart is indebted to your generous one.” His index boops your nose, you giggle. “ Please, call on me if you need anything. I…” He pauses, serious, before gently tugging the handle of your lollipop to mess with you. “You and Shoko are the only ones keeping me sane these days.” Your hand grabs his to try to free the handle, as you both giggle. “Stay bright, little light.”

Well, if you didn’t turn into a vengeful spirit after all of these thoughts… Anything else your brain wants you to regret before you die ? A summer festival memory ! Sounds like a good way to wrap it up.

A Rainbow of traditional clothing. You loved yours. Geto had brought you to his favourite secret store of traditional clothing, where you found THE outfit for the festival. Smiles everywhere. Smells of food. Fireworks. Hugs. Songs. The fresh air of midnight. Your moonshine seeing you shivering. After a quick inquiry, his arms draped over your shoulders, covering you with his large black sleeves, as his chin rests at the top your head. That giant bastard did warm you up, but so did your cheeks and heart. You wondered how you could get him to do that more often.

You had found out a few weeks later, while discussing with Utahime on the phone. Mortified described your state extremely well. None of you were ready to be in any kind of relationship. Your souls were vividly scarred by all the recent events. Broken can’t fix the broken. A couple is the union of two people, who know their personal value and want to add the other’s to theirs because they love it. It is an addition, not a completion to the hole in their heart. Geto had been a friend for so long now, that these sayings didn’t stop your thoughts about the possibility. He knew how to be an entire person without anyone, even if it hurt him at times; he could choose his addition without a worry. But what about you, still fighting against your people pleasing habits, oblivious to yourself worth ?

The snarls of the curse were right next to you. It had stopped, sensing your presence, searching. Its head turned left, towards your spot then right. It sniffed carefully around the abandoned building. The air was mossy, rancid, dusty. Your blood could blend with the rust. Your breaths were short, eyes tightly closed. The curse was constituted partly of water. You could trace its movement, anticipating your probable death. Speaking of which, you decide to make peace with it all. Step by step. In your mind, three different versions of you appeared : a child, a teenager, a young adult.

You cherished our alone time and hobbies all while being a busy exorcist. We are soo badass !

I kept that part of myself. Thank you, little light.

You weren’t a scared teenager anymore. You fought, saved people, protected the one you love. Our mind and our heart cooperate without bitterness now. That’s one hell of an accomplishment.

I’m proud of myself. Thank you, we’re saved.

We both know what we want now, don’t we ? You have been blind on purpose because you were scared.

Of what ?

Appearing cold when mourning. Too cheery on a daily basis, while everyone was sad. To equal your seniors. To admit you finally fell in love.

…

It’s not because they didn’t cheer up every day that you failed. The important thing is that you stay true. He wants you by his side, so do you. We jump towards our death in every mission. Allow yourself some moonshine in this dreary life. A droplet can change everything. Survive.

You opened your eyes. The curse had turned its head back near the rusted furniture protecting you. Okay, it was big. But full of water. You control water. It could work, right ? Your wound wasn’t too bad for now. Your hand covered in blood would argue, but it couldn’t speak, so fuck it. Drawing a deep breath in, your legs sprung you out of your hiding spot. The curse screamed, extending its hands to you. Its mouth wide open, you saw some saliva. Perfect.

Thank you, Droplet.

You screamed in return, letting some tears fall out of your eyes. You infused them with cursed energy, alongside your sweat. You would have preferred to use external water like a puddle but oh well. Even the moss would not have been enough. Tears and sweat are highly linked to emotions, making them potent catalytic fluids. You would tire quicker, but it was the best way to get out of here. Creating a string with a hook, you launched it inside the mouth. Got the connection.

First step : letting it swallow some more. Screaming some tears out, your cursed energy allowed you some strength. The string got longer, the curse swallowed.

Second step : deeper. The sheer need to resist the pull made you sweat some more. The thread became longer, the curse falling deeper into your trap. The map of its in and out was clear now.

Third step : Hook and tear apart. That could be trickier. Your strength had its limits, especially with a wound. Draining your own water… Everyone says it’s a dumb idea. But you know why you use it; last resort.

Your feet firmly planted on the ground, you pull. Shivers and tremors ran through you. One of your knees touched the ground. Your throat got drier by the second. But you screamed. Your heart wanted to make it out of here to spill it all out to your moonshine. Deep down, you knew that because you and Shoko were behind him, Geto stayed somewhat sane. That he didn’t jump off of an edge you could not have saved him from.

If you die, he might let go.

Hell no. Not on your watch. That moonshine would not disappear. Your tired arms pulled. Your cursed energy went up some more. It didn’t seem like enough. Wrapping the thread around your wrist, your now free second hand straightened in the direction of the curse. It was going to act like a magnet to the hook, to pierce through the curse. You loosened the thread a little. This was your riskiest manoeuvre : a few seconds of inattention and you’d be dead.

The curse wailed ; the hook was slowly coming out. But it started shaking left and right. Now you were fucked. Still, as hopeful as ever, you kept going. Your thoughts were on a loop, like a broken record.

I want more time. I want more time. I want more time. I want more time.

Something ran down your nose. On your right flank too. Blood, probably.

I need more time. I need more time. I need more time. I need more time.

A swift breeze blew behind your back. Opening your eyes, a giant white dragon flew through the opening your hook had created, tearing the last curse of your mission apart. Your thread and hook dematerialised. The tension of your body evaporated. Your muscles became jelly. The dragon came to you, sniffing you. A smile crossed your features. Someone called out your name, far, getting closer, next to your face. You couldn’t leave the dragon’s gaze, the happiness it brought you. A few words leave your mouth, before you blacked out head first on the fuzzy head in front of you.

“ I’m ok. ”

Shoko contemplated the night sky. She had never been into it. Until one fateful pyjama party involving you and your random knowledge. It soothed her now. A puff of smoke ascended towards it. The state you came back in was not too bad, you were mainly exhausted. Your wound healed up without a problem. She could recognize the signs of insomnias on your body; paler skin, darker under-eyes, shallow breaths. Your undying resolve to cheer was fading.

Did you think of Death, good friend ?

Another puff of smoke flew up. Maybe Shoko should stop smoking. Go on your little mental health walks with you. Cry with you. Grieve together. A cold breeze blew her hair away. For tonight though, she’d leave you to your peace. She giggled tenderly. What a surprise you’d have waking up. Smashing the butt of her cigarette into a pot, her arms snuggled her white blouse closer around her turtleneck. She often wished to have a Geto of her own.

“I won’t let you freeze, Droplet.”

Those are the last words you thought you would hear waking up. Your nose ran a little, your feet feeling the cold air of the room; as well as a pair of legs. Slowly emerging, your forehead noted the warm chest it rested against. A big hand was rubbing the back of your head. Your back shivered at the contrast between the air and the arm circling it, the hand politely resting on your side. Lips kissed the top of your hair.

“Please never do that again. That was so reckless of you. Did you really think we wouldn’t back you up ? Even if we were forbidden to do so ? ”

One of your hands, bunched up against your own chest, grabbed onto the black t-shirt in front of you. You had woken up a few times, mere seconds each, but every time you felt like shit. Your brain was letting your heart loose. You wanted to cry so bad. But exhaustion put you back to sleep just before you could. However now, you were fully awake and ready to burst. Your nostrils recognized the perfume next to you. He saved you, probably watched you bleed out without knowing if it was fatal or not, and stayed by your side for hours on end. A sob above you invaded your ear.

“We need… I want you by my side for all of this. I want to smile with you. Be a brat with you. I-”

Another sob. Tears dropped on your cheeks.

“Nap like we’re in a coma in summer. Hold you on a cold night of a festival. Hug when we’re sad for whatever reason.”

If he hadn’t noticed you yet, that would do it. A shaky breath escaped your mouth a little too loudly. You sniffed. The hand on your side twitched a bit, indicating Geto had in fact heard you, freezing in place.

“Are you ?...”

You buried your head in his neck, rounding his torso with your arms, crying. He probably had to fight Shoko to be able to lay in your infirmary bed like that. Instinctively, his arms held you tighter, leaving you some time; taking some time for him to cry too. Your hands grabbed the back of his shirt with urge, afraid to lose it.

“I want you too. I jumped out to save myself because I wanted to live please… don’t…”

Even though Geto was shaky, he loosened his grip to let you look at his face. Dark circles, wrinkles from the sheets and a small cut on his left cheek. His voice only shushed you gently, the hand on your side cupping the side of your face to rub his thumb on your temple. Your eyes met. He nodded to you, exhaling all the air in his lungs. You followed, warmed up by his attempt to help breath smoothly again. You synchronised, like every time you eased the other out of sadness. These breathing exercises had been transmitted by one of the spirits of the water you met long ago. A gentle puddle pushed by the wind. You were crying your eyes out in the forest, having seen another one of your friends die in a trial. The puddle worked with the wind to move in slow motions, allowing you to sync your breath with them.

One out for one, two, three, four ripples. One in for one, two, three, four ripples… Halt ! One ripple. Two ripples.

“Three ripples. Four ripples. Let loose, Droplet.”

The hand on your face moved back to your hair, caressing them.

“Are you feeling better ?”

With one last breath out, a small smile appeared on your features. Your body was warm from head to toe, happy to be alive, to have him so close.

“Thanks to you, Suguru.”

His eyes widened again, a slight blush covering his cheeks. The moments he could help you back were so rare. You thanked him every time. However you had just confessed to him. Fireworks went off in his brain, barely believing it. He was getting delirious after worrying so much at night, right ? Or was he dreaming ? A mental slap later, his heart screamed to be in the moment. So as sly as ever, he grinned after scoffing.

“Don’t mention it.”

You shook your head, amused. Hugging him again, you wondered if what you both said earlier was going to be talked about tonight. A light breeze made his arms hold you a little closer. He kissed one of your temples. Maybe you should have that conversation. Pushing it back wouldn’t be any good. The night was still young.

“So, heard you say you wanted me, little light ? Is that true ?”

You huffed a laugh at his casual tone, knowing full well that his heart was hammering against one of your ears.

“Yes. I believe it was an appropriate response to your lengthy love declaration. That you professed while you thought I SLEPT. That is so mean. Never hide your feelings like that with me, please ? ”

It was his turn to laugh. But no mockery laced his voice. Just a little bit of admiration. You had been on Death’s door. Yet here you were, scolding him with your entire heart.

“I promise, Droplet. Would you do the same ?”

Your head lifted to watch him. His face seemed so relaxed. Did all of this mean you could get infinite free hugs and that beautiful smile all day long ?

“I promise, Moonshine.”

Maybe the next few years aren’t going to be too bad.

[armybrat-lucas]

Lucas Walsh my kick ass, little army brat. He may have a baby face but he’s tough as hell.

He has issues PTSD and battle scars. Despite being young and relatively chill, he’s more than willing to throw hands with anyone who wants to square up.

Get in his face and he’ll punch you in yours, quite literally. He’s always going for a run or hitting the gym, to help keep away the nightmares, which can be crippling. Sometimes he swears he can smell the scent of his flesh and skin singed as a bullet tears through his side.

Others, he feels like he’s fighting for his life in Iraq, a knife buried up to the hilt as he screams.

It’s so vivid and real that he cried out and thrashes. Sounding like a wounded animal drenched in sweat as his hands check for injuries and gulps down a glass of water. The cold liquid chasing the pills he's hastily put in his mouth, as he tries to not have a full blown panic attack. Sides heaving as his lungs work overtime to keep up with his racing heart. It's hard to breath despite his nostrils flared as he gasps for air. The young man checks the drawer by his bedside and finds his glock, the clip not fully inserted. He shuts it and hums one of the many songs they would sing during training. Using a pleasant memory as a balm as he swallowed down all the pain that brimmed in his eyes and threatened to spill over down his cheeks.

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 3; A bouquet of asphodel, sage, yellow chrysanthemum, green carnation, plum blossom, stinging nettle, anemone and acanthus Vs A bouquet of plastic lemon balm, thyme, hyacinths and anemone flowers, with a single real orange rose in the middle, wrapped in light blue cellophane

If you know who they are, or you are pretty sure of it, please don't tell until this poll has ended!

First, let's talk about the bouquet of asphodel, sage, yellow chrysanthemum, green carnation, plum blossom, stinging nettle, anemone and acanthus

Meaning and why they were chosen: Asphodel- meaning: my regrets follow you to the grave. Reason- his death drove his best friend to grief-induced mania. He is haunted by the regrets and sins of someone else- sins he wasn’t even aware of. Sage- meaning: health. Reason- He works in the medical field- in a sense. Yellow Chrysanthemum- meaning: slighted love. Reason- He had a complex, deep relationship with his best friend, one that heavily blurred the line between romantic and platonic. After this character died, and was subsequently brought back, their relationship has been fractured, with this character trying desperately to fix their relationship, while his best friend avoids and spurns him. Green Carnation- meaning: love between two men. Reason- He is a gay man, and the story is founded on his blurry romantic-platonic relationship with his best friend, and a man who is head over heels in love with this character. Plum Blossom- meaning: beauty and longevity. Reason- There is an entire cult dedicated to placing this character in an immortal coma, so that his beauty can forever remain. Stinging Nettle- meaning: Life and Death. Reason- This character has struggled with his health throughout his entire life. He quite literally died due to his health issues, and was revived. Anemone- meaning: Forsaken/sickness. Reason- Forsaken, because he was forsaken- abandoned by the only person he really trusted in his time of need. Sickness, as this character struggled his entire life with chronic pain and a compromised immune system. Acanthus- meaning: immortality and rebirth Reason- The major theme of this character is that he died, and was then brought back. This event is directly described as a rebirth. There is also a cult dedicated to making this character immortal. Description: This character is canonically trans and disabled. He is being consistently gaslight and manipulated by everyone around him. He died, and was then brought back to life, but his previous death caused a severe rift between him and his best friend that never truly healed, and if anything, only got worse. He was the messiah of a cult, he is canonically a major hottie. He works in the medical field in the loosest of terms. He's afraid of centipedes, was taken prisoner by a platoon of waterfowl, and once projected his own emotional state onto an immortal wild animal. He encourages children to unionize and commit war crimes.This character really is just such a gut-wrenching portrayal of loneliness and what it feels like to be screaming for help and support only to be ignored. He’s having to learn to grieve someone who is still alive, just- gone. He’s sooo silly in the face of the horrors but also so goddamn sad. All he wants is to be loved and understood. The most fucked up thing is that none of it is his fault. He’s caught up in a 4-d chess match he didn’t even know was happening

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Now, let's talk about the bouquet of plastic lemon balm, thyme, hyacinths and anemone flowers, with a single real orange rose in the middle, wrapped in light blue cellophane

Meaning and why these plants were chosen: The lemon balm represents sympathy, which is a major theme in the game is how she is showed it by others despite her "unusual" circumstances and disability, and how it ties into her character arc as she connects with others and forms lasting relationships. Thyme flowers represent courage and strength, representing the pure horrors she had to endure on her journey and how she powered through, despite it all, for the sake of herself and other beings like her. Hyacinths represent sport, games, and play, relating to not only the circumstances of her existence inside a giant semi-digital mmo, but to her own highly competitive nature, always striving towards challenges and having a smug sense of satisfaction from beating them. Anemone flowers represent forsaken things, representing the shady and highly unethical circumstances of her creation, as a prototype for a computing discovery that would have massive ramifications for society as a whole, which is unfortunately put to use in torturing for personal information. It also represents the situations she faces, where she is torn from her new friends suddenly and trapped in a scrapped expansion DLC for the mmo she resides in, which has been converted into a place for facilitating the highly unethical experiments. The plastic qualities of the flowers represent her own artificial nature. The real orange rose alludes to mainly the fact that her virtues (represented by an orange rose, which means desire and enthusiasm) are completely real despite her circumstances as an ai. The orange of the rose is also the hair colour of her best friend, who is "real" unlike her, being a mmo player who formed a bond with her. The blue cellophane matches her hair colour, and is also an artificial material Description: This character is a woman who wakes up one day in a massive, futuristic VR MMO with no memories of her past self, and so must join forces with a programmer to play through the game and recover them. Unfortunately, due to a bug in her player avatar, she's been rendered non-verbal, except for a few choice words hard coded in by the programmer to help her. With his guidance, she must slowly recover her memories, keep her mostly unauthorised existence in the game a secret, and deal with her new situation. All the while in the background, dark secrets and sinister machinations involving the proprietary tech that makes the game possible are coming to a head, and she finds herself wrapped up in the centre of it... and she may just find out something shocking about herself in the process. Personally, I adore her for her cheeky nature, with a deeply caring side for those dear to her, and how much personality of hers is shown just through her expressions. Despite her lack of words, each bit of dialogue and expression is carefully crafted to show what she's feeling at any given moment, and any opinions she may have, to make a character absolutely overflowing with personality who perfectly bounces off others in any scene. (Some of my personal favourite scenes are the ones where after a certain sidequest, she's told by her programmer friend that she shouldn't be messing around with glitches again, and she makes an "innocent" whistling gesture that tells you she TOTALLY wants to do it again, and the story scene where "Why" is added to her vocabulary and the first thing she does with it is to annoy her programmer friend by repeatedly asking it, with an increasingly smug and satisfied expression as she gets under his skin.)

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[copyrightcreep]

You know the drill, all of the questions >:)

alright you evil critter. time to do the typing.

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Astarion and Karlach from bg3. space core from portal 2. Alex Danvers from supergirl. Luz and Vee from The Owl house.

lighter or matches? matches

do you leave the window open at night? sometimes. but usually, yes.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? werewolves and skinwalkers

what color are your eyes? mixture of green, blue/grey and brown

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies? hair ties

how many water bottles are in your room right now? 2. one i use for work and one for when i'm at home.

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? hot coffee in the morning, ice coffee when relaxing

would you slaughter the rich? with much glee and different ways to do so yes.

favorite extracurricular activity? biking and people watching!

what kind of day is it? murder on the brain, pain in the limbs kinda day

when was the last time you ate? an actual meal? at 10 am. is 2 pm now.

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? yes.

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) of a bunny called Mochi. but not of human kids no.

can you drive? n o p e aha.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? near-sighted

what hair products do you use? shampoo, conditioner and a hair mask.

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? if you asked. absolutely.

do you say soda or pop? f r i s d r a n k but soda in english

something you’ve kept since childhood? trauma. uh i mean. a stuffed animal i got since birth. his name is Mousey.

what type of person are you? i act very indifferent at 1st but i will flipping do anything if you get my trust. and i will share everything when safe.

how do you feel about chilly weather? love it. i can't feel cold all that well so i thrive in winter months.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? i'd bring snacks and a nice fluffy blanket maybe a picknick. talk and eat until night and then stargaze all night

perfume/body spray or lotion? body spray

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? a lotta stuff. but i'll go with my mom's death since it's most recently been on my mind.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? uh. like 6?

do you wear a mask? during covid, yes. regularly? not unless it's required for work.

how do you like your shower water? a lil shy of burning my skin off

is there dishes in your room? yepp. kinda always are

what type of music keeps you grounded? 2 types. emotional stuff i relate to. and vibey music.

do you have a favorite towel? yes, it's a white one with rainbow squares. i love it!!

the last adventure you’ve been on? probs when i was a kid running trough the forest with my siblings.

is there a song you know every word to by heart? oh boy do i. nearly every song from icon for hire, smash into pieces and a bunch from Florence + the machine

what’s your timezone? CE(S)T. the S is for Summertime

how many times have you changed your url? nada on this blog haha

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? no one i actively speak to. but @stephlastname comes the closest with like 7 years.

a soap bar that smells good? bars of soap elude me.

do you use lip balm? i should. but i don't

did you have any snacks today? had some chocolate snacks.

how do you take your coffee? 2 zoetjes or 1 packet of sugar and 2 milk.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? whatsapp and discord

what’s your take on spicy foods? occasionally very good. but my childhood makes it rough to enjoy them.

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? Past: Hitler, Present: Putin, Personal: an old teacher who didn't 'believe' in adhd.

can you remember what happened yesterday? sorta, feels like walking trough mud to remember.

favorite holiday film? the 1st home alone

what was the last message you sent? dang right i want to!!

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? oh jeez. i tried wine when i was like 7 or 8. beer around the same time. somebody gave me a bunch of vodka when i was 17. i almost forgot the time where my mom let me drink a whole glass of bacardi cola when i was 9

can you skip rocks? NOPE. i flipping suck haha

can i tag you in random stuff? absolutely and please do!!

thanks for the askkkkkk

[templesofdelight]

Who am I? I ask you… This foreign being In my clothes In my shoes

I was once innocent, naïve My days spent amongst the fallen leaves Playing with the fragments of my mind

Dancing shadows, incorporeal The ghasts that I considered real Friends and invited to my games All crippled, wrong, and all broken, lame I gifted names on their wings Freedom, Light, Hate and Fear My shadows, my friends My ethereal companions

These games were primal, regressive, pure A sort of state that one could not fear One that shattered as often as it mended It healed in day, it reveled at dawn Left cracks behind in days long gone

In these games, a certain formula would appear The angels, the shadows, all huddled in fear Awaiting some strange premonition Spoken by an artificial leer

And I was the tiger, the wolf, the deer The animal nature that lingered there So I ran within my head In games of claws, and so I said:

“You, my warriors- You, my faith You, my creatures, You, my race Run beside me forever more Never leave, never stop, never moan nor roar For leagues we’ll dash, settle and roam To meet our fate and say hello To meet what things we’ve grown to loathe

Follow me, climb the trees Cross the cliffs, split your knees I am master of your will I am keeper, man, and till Prepare your lives Give them to me Give naught to nothing, no thing I see Give yourselves to be with me Speak no lies, spread no truth Do not to others what is not done to you…”

And as soon spoken these words were The games faded, lost all allure The creatures forged in solitude Became dull, lifeless, crude All once wild became tame All my visions had a name A purpose, a class All concealed in panes of glass I understood my life And it understood mine

I sought a way to drive it out This knowledge that I had found Reaching for blank promises Under stilted skies The shadows knew, gave sleepless nights Pondering being, meaning, light And only music drowned their cries Only daylight purged my eyes Of the daemons in my sleep Reaching for others to keep Tucked within their fiery glow Reaching to reap what I sowed And so I went to other minds Making other lives mine I adapted, I changed I gave myself pain To harness emotion To change my ways

But only to find I no longer knew what it meant To feel

To know What feeling was How am I? How was your day? Answers came, just to escape

So I forged waking dreams Identities and lives To harness what the shadows gave To emulate what shadows take Drowned in knowledge, faith, opinion The truth faltered and died

I tried to trap them on the page A world from which no-one escapes But they laughed and took my mind Took my skill, my passion, my time

And so I moved Away from life My connections blurred My letters awkward Friends that I had once made Seemed to be inferior minds The shadows did not lurk in theirs Only lurked in mine Sadly reminiscing in the sand Tracing words I could not send Sitting, staring, distant friends Shed like skin and left to mend The patches that I had torn out When I cast them off my mount The shadows cried, the shades all gaped Moving house meant moving fate

They strained for a way to remind Me of suppressed wishes, to deny me access To portals that closed in my life Making a god to whom I’d sell my friends A limited existence, no more to list till I die And I thought I left them behind, Trapped in wood, in rust, in rhyme But as I gained an idle mind

They grasped my lies

Lies became me I became lies

The days moved on, days I did not behold A fury beggar, not rich nor poor in the cold Days of light, days of debts Days where dawn meant no sunsets I told my lies, what wise words I sought For them to become just jokes, minds who never thought Foolish to think I could protect what shadows cursed and wrought

My mind bent, flexed and straught In a display of running tempers A solution to my failing days A balm for my dying mates Easily brought to rage Easily forced to age Into rigid futures

Creeping through the spirits I raised I scrabbled, groped, my face ablaze In fury, sorrow, guilt, shame Desperate measures, idle times In dark forsaken lives

Running moons, slick ground Listening to televised sounds Realities parted at the seams Moon and grass, dew and dreams Slinking through another’s field As the wolf I was could not heal Become a man, a brick-caged den Release my nature in the eyes Of those who tempted orders beyond their ken A cloth garrote, a crate of meat A sickening stench that was me

Fleeing from the debris The shelled flotsam lost at sea Hiding faces in the stream

Shrapnel flies and hits the wall Crying voices cease their call Buried in feathers that fall From the wings of angels

Meet my fate and save my date A memory of lost days Seek my childhood, seconds late To save my early ways

And I fell, fell to dust From ashes sprang earthly lust Created for lying, a day born anew A replacement for science, another for you Coming in landing, dying in blue Screaming in mansions, in figurative news

I picked my minds, I searched them through Only the traits I had I must choose But all I ended with were unmatched minds A patchwork of traits not mine

Another retooled to fit my face Another to add to my growing race Of carbon-copy supermen Over faceless masses I would stand Looking into souls I lent And trafficked for no payment

Often I waited, eons on end In the minds of men and sought Perfection, a goal left unreached Enticing, inciting, my gaze impeached By masses with torn soles and feet Left to look again and seek A new solution for the weak Looking for an answer Looking for a quest

I searched, I ran I groped and pined Waiting in an endless line Searching my mind For my memory, fleeting Rapt in beads of rime

And so all I gained Was sent to me here To sit and retain it And sit through the ages In paranoid fits of rage

Sometimes I could find release Cutting my bonds, my chain, my leash Trying to find that lost vestige That fabled being who once was me But when my true self came to be I was a deviant, a liar, a freak Nothing was left in society For the boy trapped inside me

The child who forged fantasy Under those distant, dripping trees Nothing left No-one for me A child grown Too quickly

So I buckled Fell to my knees And in that moment I became me

[ascendantevolution]

Moon Study and Ego Sublimation (Copy)

Oftentimes, when we are taking a good, hard look at ourselves, we speak of looking into the mirror, recognizing that we need to change, often through other people mirroring for us what needs to change within ourselves.

When I decided to stopped drinking, I found that I became a mirror for the many alcoholics who are too fragile to accept the truth of their situation. As a result, they dismissed me as the one with the problem. I got rejected a lot, and my friend group dwindled. In light of this example, while I love the mirror, I also wanted to smash it because it hurt all around. The mirror is not always the kindest source of learning. That being said, the mirror acts as a powerful catalyst that pushes us into honest reflection.

For me, Moon study has become an added source of support and growth when working in conjunction with the mirror. It offers a path beyond an initial shock of awareness. Moon study is a gentler way to intentionally work on those parts of myself that most need attention. While I am talking about harnessing the power of Moon ritual, let's analyze what the Moon offers as a metaphor.

Being that the Moon comes out at night, the Moon is associated with darkness. There are no mirrors. Instead of looking outward, the darkness requires us to sit with ourselves quietly, observing with senses other than physical sight. Eventually, with enough practice, we begin to see inward, which takes great courage because it is there that wounds and shadows have been hiding out while we've been distracting ourselves with the dramas of life.

These are the parts of ourselves that have been rejected by our community and by ourselves. These are the parts of ourselves that need attention, needing to be heard and honored. To hear and honor what needs healing in us. Discovering the source of our pain (the wound) means sitting with the pain, letting it pass through, and then embracing and integrating those parts of ourselves that have been dishonoured, shamed, or neglected. I have experienced this process many times now and can say that, as the pain welled up inside, working its way to the surface, it felt so overwhelming and threatening that I felt like I might literally die.

Why would anyone choose to put themselves through this?

My first thought after going through this process the first time was, “Wow, I survived it,” followed by a huge sigh of relief. That thought was immediately followed by the thing survivors build over time: feeling resilient. That amazing feeling empowered and motivated me to continue. I knew I was on the right path.

Integrating the lost pieces of ourselves leads to the feeling of growing wholeness, complete acceptance, and unconditional love for all that we are as humans. This process allows us to pull shame out by its roots and to use it as tinder to light the fires of creativity and motivation that will move us toward our life purposes.

To love yourself? To be so comfortable in your skin that other people's odd glances, judgmental comments, and ways of manipulation have no impact on you? Imagine attaining this kind of freedom.

Not only is it freedom, but it is what it means to be sovereign. To have complete sovereignty of ourselves in our lives without reference to anything or anyone else, to be guided by the Higher Self, to speak with authority, to be a champion, to change the world around us with unconditional love? We have a responsibility, not only to ourselves for our own peace and quality of life, but to those around us. People are suffering. Animals are suffering. Gaia is suffering. The state of our beings matters that much.

When Joseph Campbell outlined the hero's journey, he really didn't speak much to what happens to heroes that don’t make it through their journeys. Heroes do get stuck in the underworld. Some never get to finish their missions by slaying dragons and resurfacing to be the balm for their community. It is scary but true that heroes sometimes get lost in their journeys.

We are born with missions, but we are also given free will. We get to choose whether we show up as a coward hiding out in polarized dramas; whether we give in to the darkness that shows up to overtake us; or whether we emerge as heroes, beaten up and scarred, in our own stories and for those around us.

Our journey requires growth and resilience and overcoming increasingly large obstacles. Intentionally choosing most of our battles gives us an advantage in preparing for those battles that erupt out of seemingly nowhere. If we are practiced, skilled, and ready, we truly get to choose how we show up.

And, now I have made it back around to my point: Creating a spiritual course of study for ourselves empowers us on our journeys. I highly recommend Moon study as a part of any spiritual course.

Moon study creates a cyclical course of self-study through following and understanding the processes of the moon. New moon - new beginnings for goals. Waxing moon - growing intention and action around goals. Full moon - harvest of hard earned fruits. Waning moon - reflection and revision. Dark Moon - laying to rest what no longer serves, permanently.

It is a long but gentle process that demands patience and intention. By focusing on a particular wound or flaw or goal throughout the Moon's course, we gain amazing insights, gratitude, and empowerment. We are actively in the mix of learning and self-discovery, which adds to a growing appreciation of the self.

As I work through each Moon cycle, I gain an increasing understanding of the Moon's influence on me, literally. The Moon impacts life on this planet in an untold number of ways. Science says so (go research if you are in doubt).

I am gaining an ever-growing understanding that the Moon's pull on energies influences all energetic functioning affecting many aspects of my life. If it is doing the same for you and the guy down the street, then the moon is influencing all of us and how we impact each other. The more I study the moon and its energies, the more magical it feels to me because energies are pliable, and I can move with them, impact them, to a degree.

Opposed to "magic"? Please don't be. “Magic” as a word has come to be charged with negative meaning. What it signifies, however, is no different than a “Miracle.” Both point to a manifesting through prayer, which is just another way of moving with pliable energies, sending positive vibrations out into the Universe and then seeing evidence of them mixing with other energies, such as when a loved one is healed of an illness.

Through Moon cycles, my inner hero shows up, sword sheathed (most of the time) to talk business and wisdom. My inner hero grows and learns and trusts itself more than it ever has because she is actually beginning to do something no one else can truly do for her: believe in herself.

Belief in oneself on this level cannot be achieved with a bloated ego in tow. As we shed the pain and shame, the ego sublimates. When the ego sublimates, everyone - everything - wins.

Moon is showing me the way. With each cycle, I become transformed - a new version of me. I am set free yet again. I don't have to carry around heavy loads of guilt and shame anymore. If I choose it, I am always renewed, always growing, always transforming - by the light of the Moon.

I give thanks to Spirit, for my Higher Self, and for Moon and all of Her patient teaching.

Originally written in the Spring of 2021.

[quiveringdeer]

just got caught up on the latest Buddy Daddies episode....

I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR WHAT WAS ON MIRI'S SCAVENGER HUNT CARD

[neonacity]

ARCANE | CH.13 | NCT DREAM X READER | END

Summary: When you decided to apply for a researcher post in an elusive institute, you already had the feeling that you’ll be getting yourself knee-deep into something out of the ordinary. But desperate needs require desperate measures, and so you embraced the invite, despite all the alarm signals urging you to run away. What you found out was nothing you’d ever expected.

Seven boys.

Seven human deviants granted with abilities tied to the legendary Arcana Cards.

Welcome to Project Dream.

Pairing: Various Dream Members x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: violence, torture, trauma, very slight yandere themes, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. Romance will take a little bit of a backseat on this one since this is more of a suspense-driven plot, but it will still be threaded in the overall story. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI.

> CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6 | CH.7 | CH.8 | CH.9 | CH.10 | CH.11 | CH.12

Chapter Songs: You Should See Me In A Crown > Billie Eilish | Castle > Halsey | Super Villain  > Stileto | God Sent Me As Karma > Emlyn | Animal > Aurora

"Love? Look at me."

The soothing voice of someone brushed over the edges of your thoughts. The tone was soft and gentle, a warm balm into the otherwise still darkness that seems to be cloaking you under a veil. It whispered other things to you—words you didn’t catch the most of as they dipped here and there like a broken record. Other voices weaved together with the calming hum, all sounding distant and senseless, with you only catching fragments of the conversation here and there.

"...she hurt?"

"Vitals… okay…"

"She's in shock—can't hear… us,"

"Panic attack—"

"Jaemin, do something."

"Darling. You're okay."

That last phrase punctured through your thoughts and reeled you back in almost forcefully. All of a sudden you could hear and feel again as heaving sounds pressed against your ears. Sharp needles of pain suddenly shot up in your chest and you blinked, confused, as your sight came into focus. Jaemin's face leaned closer to yours as he reached out a hand to cup your cheek. The feel of his skin against yours made you realize that you were shaking, and that it was you who was making the gasping noises as you choked on air.

"Shh… Focus on me."

You stared at him wordlessly as you felt the sound of his voice almost physically wrap around you. It was a stark contrast to the confusing churn of emotions twisting in your chest, and it took you a moment to finally realize that he was pushing back against your meltdown with his ability. Slowly, you closed your eyes to submit and let him in. He obviously felt the change, because the artificial calm finally broke through your mental boundaries the moment you stopped resisting.

"Good girl… It's okay… You're okay."

Your shaking had gradually stopped all except for your fingers which, you realized upon opening your eyes again, were wrapped around the wrist of his hand still holding your face. Gently, you felt him move his thumb under your eye to wipe the tears brimming there.

"Papa… They have him."

The voice that came out of you didn't even sound like it was yours, but you still pushed out the first thing that your mind locked on as soon as the worst of your mental blackout had cleared. Jaemin's eyes slightly widened, surprised, before his brows furrowed in concern. Slight movements beside him finally made you look up. You have no idea how you got back to the bunker after that face off with Haneul, but the rest of the boys are huddled over you now, wearing similar expressions.

"Jeno too. They're—they're hurting both of them—"

Your voice broke as flashes of both scenes came rushing back to you. You folded on your seat as soon as they came, your arms going around yourself as the rest of Haneul's words came slamming against you like waves again. You barely felt the arm resting on your back, rubbing gentle circles on it, until you heard Renjun's voice beside you.

"Hey. Don't push yourself too hard. Tell us everything at your own pace and—"

"Who is IL Matto?"

Your question quickly cut him off. You didn't even need to look up to notice the shift in the room the moment the words left you. All of a sudden the air felt thick with tension as everyone froze. You looked up slowly, your gaze clashing with Mark's.

"Is she the girl you love? The one behind all of this?"

He didn't answer, but the look on his face was enough of the confirmation that you need. A knot started twisting and tightening in your stomach.

"They're after her. Haneul Lee… he wants her. They are about to start the last phase of their experiments with a new project—Project Vision and she's their subject."

If the room seemed tense earlier, then the choking silence has definitely escalated now to a new level. Everyone has gone so still that you could almost swear they’ve collectively stopped breathing. Renjun was the first one who broke the silence, his voice laced with an undercurrent of barely concealed fear when he spoke.

"What do you mean? Haneul knows who she is?"

You shook your head slightly.

"I don't know. But he did give orders to look for her after they—after they're done with whatever it is that they are doing with Jeno. He said he is going to hunt her down."

You were so focused on trying to recollect Haneul's exact words that you didn't even notice Mark crossing the distance to where you are. He had gone so still earlier that you gasped in surprise when you felt him suddenly grasp your wrist. His hold was tight, mirroring the desperation in his eyes.

"Does he know what she can do?"

You were shocked. You've never seen him act this way before.

"N-No… He didn't say anything. But he knows my mother and how she," you stopped, suddenly finding it hard to work through the tight lump in your throat. "How she was the former IL Matto. Haneul knew them. My parents."

You saw how the rest of the boys exchanged glances in your peripheral vision. Jaemin reached out to you silently again, this time weaving his fingers through yours. His warmth clashed with the cold that’s slowly seeping to the rest of your limbs.

"If he is after her… and he knows the Headmaster from before, then he might have an idea…" Haechan said, his voice thin. He exchanged a look with Renjun from over your head.

"Is there something else he told you?" Jaemin carefully asked now, probably in an effort to reel you back from the oncoming panic attack that he can feel from you again. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice to ground yourself.

"Kun… wanted me to join them. Haneul gave me eight hours to think about it."

Your words hung thick in the air. Chenle, who had been quiet from the start, finally broke his silence.

"They're going to kill us… In eight hours."

Nobody spoke. Nobody even dared react, knowing he was telling the truth.

"We have to get out of here…" Jisung said, eyes moving towards the others. You, however, turned your attention to Mark again.

"What can she do? IL Matto? Why do you think they want her?"

The boy in question didn't seem to want to answer at first. Though he has already let go of you after his whir of the moment reaction, you noticed the undercurrent of unexplained tension still buzzing around him. It was almost out of character for his usual personality that seems to always be in control of things. It took you a moment to read it, but when Mark finally met your gaze, the realization hit you hard.

He isn't afraid for himself and the prospect of dying. He isn't even afraid for his friends.

He is terrified… for her.

"IL Matto can change the nature of Arcana powers," he started slowly, eyes steady on yours. "Unlike the former mistress of the Arcana, your mother, she cannot possess the abilities of other masters. But she can magnify their Arcanas to levels that we cannot manage to do ourselves."

Your eyes widened. Renjun continued on beside you.

"Ability Amplification is how we call it. Arcana holders like us have limitations because we are still only human vessels given temporary mastery of these abilities. She can change it if she wills to, by unlocking ranges that taps to the real Arcana source."

Everything was falling into place. Your gaze started going out of focus as the realizations started coming one by one.

"Haneul and the machine he made can only copy abilities for a limited amount of time," you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. "That's why she is the last phase of the project. Her Arcana will extend all the abilities they have copied so far and…"

"And will let him create exact, if not more powerful clones of us," Haechan finished grimly.

"We have to get to her," Mark's words made all of you turn towards him. There was a set look on his face that made a foreboding feeling start to grow in the pit of your stomach. "No matter what happens, we can't let Cypher get their hands on IL Matto."

You couldn't put your finger on it, but something about the way he said that made the knots of anxiety in your chest wound tighter. Before you even realized what you were doing, you were grabbing at his hand and gripping it tight. Your gaze sought for his, begging for his promise.

"Please. If we are going to leave, save my father too. With Jeno."

The way that he immediately didn't answer made your desperation grow.

"Mark," you whispered. "You promised…"

A shadow of something clouded over his eyes for a quick second. Before you could even process what it is, you felt gentle hands grab you by the shoulders again and pull you back to your seat.

"Hey… try to relax…" Jaemin said as he tried to soothe you.

"Mark—"

"I promise," the boy finally said, his words resting thickly in the tensed silence. You stared straight at his eyes, willing to see if he meant it, but you couldn't easily read him for once. A few more seconds passed before you finally allowed yourself to loosen your stance.

"You should try and rest. We'll… come up with something," Renjun took your hand and gave it a gentle tug. "We’ll talk again after. Do you want to lie down? I'll sit with you."

It took you a moment before you managed to give a small nod. With your response, Renjun finally stood up and guided you to do the same. You did, letting him steer you towards the direction of the bunkers after. You felt so drained and tired that you didn't even notice the loaded glance he exchanged with the rest of the boys before you both detached yourself from the group.

"Hyung… What do we do?" Jisung whispered in the silence that you and Renjun left when your pair finally disappeared at the other end of the room. Mark didn't immediately reply, wearing an expression that also sat in Jaemin and Haechan's faces. Everyone seemed to know what the answer is, but nobody wanted to say it out loud.

"We'll have to get Jeno and the Headmaster before we leave this place."

"How? We don't even know where they are," Chenle asked next.

"We'll follow the plan she talked to us about before. I think it might work."

"And if it doesn't? What if we run out of time?" Haechan finally asked the pressing question everyone wished they could jump over. Mark's jaw ticked, but he looked up after a while to give each boy a pointed glance.

"Then we leave this place with or without them…"

"No matter what happens, we choose IL Matto over everyone else."

*******

"Sir, the chambers are ready."

Kun didn't budge despite the notice fed to him on his earpiece. His eyes were set on a spot by the wall, face emotionless as he slowly turned over the mask he was holding in his hand. It was just an hour or two before the sun would rise outside, and yet the air clinging in the corridor was as grim and cold as the darkest of twilight. His fingers ran now on the plastic edges of the straps before he slowly raised them to press a button on his in-ear. 

"We're sure all air chambers are sealed shut?"

"Yes, sir."

"Any movements inside?"

"The heat sensors show nothing. They're all sleeping."

He didn't say anything else after that. Silently, he turned towards the dozen or  so men standing on alert beside him. Just like him, the crew was wearing thick hazmat suits and gas masks, with guns resting heavy on their hands. He nodded now towards the one closest to him—the chief of guard, though he made sure the rest of his words were clear enough to be heard by the rest of the group when he spoke.

"Try to move as silently as you can when you go inside. We don't want to wake up any of them. All seven of you who have the gas cans, make sure to throw them in the right direction. The poison is fast acting and will only take 15 seconds at most to work. The rest of you, don't move until I say so. We want to keep this as clean as possible."

The group gave a collective nod towards his orders. Kun finally moved to put on his own gas mask and pulled a small monitor from his pocket after—a handheld device showing what looked like a heat radar checker. Seven red dots were clustered on one of its sides, unmoving. He gave it one last check before finally nodding towards the small army behind him.

"Let's go."

Their unit moved like a shadow towards the metal doors of the bunker. With a set stare, he waited for the entrance to open in almost painful silence. The room was dark when the doors finally parted, but that didn't stop the trained men from slipping inside, silent like ghosts. Kun brought the rear of the group, making sure each one was in their right position before he walked over and raised his hand. The tension was palpable as the wards waited for his go signal. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. His own heartbeat felt slow in his chest, as if death was after him itself.

Finally, he brought his hand down in one quick, smooth motion.

The sequence of the next actions that followed were quick and measured. Seven of the masked men moved forward, each holding a steel cylindrical container in both hands. The remaining men behind Kun raised their high-powered rifles in synchrony, the ends aimed at the direction of the beds. One by one, the men armed with the poison cans pressed the release button on the cylinders before letting them roll towards the same side of the room.

For a moment nothing moved in the silence. After a few seconds, however, thick white fumes started bursting from the canisters and quickly covered the room with smoke. Slight rustling can be heard from the direction of the beds as the sleeping occupants seemed to have finally realized what was happening. Soon enough, the noises were punctured with sounds of coughing, groans, and shouts as if people were struggling and trying to flail around.

"Nobody move until I say so."

Everyone in the room stayed still and followed his orders despite the ruckus. The smoke was so thick that Kun could barely see two feet from where he was standing and he waited for the fumes to disperse before making another move. After almost half a minute of painful waiting, the room finally cleared up a bit just as the struggling noises quieted down. His eyes fell on the small monitor on his hand, now dead of the seven traces of light from earlier.

"Control room, all heat sources are out. Can you confirm?"

A slight crackling sound from his earpiece followed after a beat of silence.

"Confirming zero feedback from the heat map. We need to have visual evidence of the bodies though."

At that, Kun slipped the device back to his pocket before finally taking a step deeper into the room. Silently, he moved past the vanguards who set off the poison gas, straight towards the end of the room. Splayed motionlessly on the beds and the floor next to them are seven figures—six boys and a girl.

He stopped next to the two bodies closest to him now, their faces partly covered by the way they fell on the floor. Kun swallowed back the uncomfortable feeling sitting at his tongue as he knelt in front of the one nearer him to turn its face up carefully…

He locked gazes with the glassy, bloodshot eyes of Haechan. The boy’s lips were slightly parted as if he froze in the middle of taking a deep breath. A small trail of foam trickled from the side of his mouth, the same one that you could also see now upon closer inspection of the girl lying down beside him. Half of her body was covered by the boy, as if in a protective stance, but there’s no mistaking the face of his former partner now, cold and frozen with death. 

His stomach turned. Without saying another word, he leaned over and pressed a finger to the side of the boy's neck.

"No pulse for Patient 01. 00 is showing the same signs of death," he said almost emotionlessly to his earpiece. "I’m sending feedback from my body camera. You can check for the visual."

A few soft clicks that only he could hear took over on the line. After a couple of seconds, the voice spoke again, this time with finality.

"Confirming time of death of 01 and 00. Check the others, and then we can move the bodies out of the room."

Kun didn't waste another second to pick himself up from his crouch. He gave a nod towards the men closest to him, who then moved forward to do exactly what the voice ordered. Finally, he motioned at the remaining group still waiting near the entrance with their guns.

"Help them with the corpses. We need to transport them to the morgue as soon as possible."

Without another glance back at the scene, he went out of the room to leave the others to take care of the mess. The moment that he was within safe distance, he immediately pulled his mask off and took a deep breath. Cold sweat stained the collar of his protective suit and he leaned towards the nearest wall, eyes closing as he tried to push back the nausea that was in danger of overcoming him. His head was spinning… and he was sure it wasn't because of the effects of the toxic gas.

He was still in the middle of trying to collect himself when a slight buzzing sound in his earpiece sounded again. At first he wanted to ignore it, having already provided the information the control room needed, but then the next voice that came on made him open his eyes again in surprise.

"Dr. Qian. Is it done?" Haneul Lee's low, steady tone asked.

Kun straightened himself and quickly tried to breathe in to keep his voice steady before answering.

"Yes, sir. The effect of the poison fumes was instant."

A pause.

"And the girl?"

Kun took seconds to answer.

"She's also dead, sir."

Silence followed his words. Just when he thought the man dropped the call, he spoke again.

"Transport the bodies to the cremation room instead. We'll burn them in one batch."

Kun couldn't have felt more thankful that the man can't see his expression at the moment.

"How about Lee Jeno?"

"We'll use another way. He might not be killed just as easily. I'll personally arrange something else for him."

Kun didn't know what that meant, but he was sure it wasn't anything good. Before he could even do or say anything else, the other was already closing off the conversation with his last words.

"I need you to update the system about the new developments. Move all the files to the right vaults and inform the network,"

"That Project Dream is over."

******* The man was the picture of stillness as he kept his gaze on the feedback on the screen. His private office was dark, with the only light coming from the monitors casting shadows over his features. Haneul Lee almost looked like a statue as he remained set on his seat, his usually sharp eyes now staring off blankly as he watched guards move out on the live video he was watching. A parade of seven body bags were being carried off by the group, all bound tightly to keep the poison clinging from their corpses sealed.

His gaze focused now on the last bag on the line which looks significantly smaller and lighter than the rest. As he stared at it, his thumb unconsciously ran over the face of the ornate-looking pocket watch in his hand. His fingers felt the groove of the pattern etched on its cover—an elaborate pattern reminiscent of the beauty of snowflakes.

"You'll be the godfather of my little princess, yes?"

Her voice sounded so alive to his ears still that it almost felt like she was just there, standing beside him again. He could perfectly see her smile in his mind's eye, the way her eyes crinkled at the side as they danced with happiness. In that slip of a moment, he wasn't sitting in his office anymore, but back in the old halls of Rosewood that he used to call his second home.

"Of course, he is. He's the only one we can trust to take care of her if ever something bad happens to us," a new voice, a baritone this time, joined in the conversation. The words echoed in his head as if someone shouted them at him. They were so clear… and so distinct, that he felt like he only needed to turn his head to the side to see his former best friend exchange a loving look with his wife.

His thumb stopped moving over the pocket watch now as he started feeling the memories start to get the most of him. He has always hated the way they come back to him in the most inconvenient of times, making him remember what once was and what will never be again in haunting flashes. Without even realizing it, his hold on the watch on his hand tightened, its edges digging against his skin. 

The flow of his thoughts only came to a halt when he saw the group he was watching finally stop in front of a pair of heavy-duty doors from his monitor. Willing himself to refocus, he pressed a button on his keyboard which quickly changed the view that he was seeing. From its former view from the outside, the screen now showed a wide capture of the room beyond the security door. He waited for the gates to open and watched closely as the guards hauled the body bags on the steel beds taking up the space of the area. With deathly stillness, he followed the movements of the man at the head of the group who reached out to the bag closest to him. He opened the seal and parted it… showing the pale and almost exact copy of the face of the woman in his memories just minutes prior. 

This time, he actually felt his heart stop for a moment. The words came rushing back again—the smiles, the memories, and then the promises.

He killed her. The daughter of the only woman she ever loved. The child he promised to protect at one point in time, before fate messed everything up.

"Darling. We're done with the boy."

The sound of a cold, lilting voice from the doorway of his office made Haneul tear his eyes away from the screen. Leaning on the threshold, arms crossed over her chest and looking like a beautiful ghostly vision against the brighter hallway, was Miyoung Lee.

His wife's piercing gaze finally cut through his thoughts. His face might not have given them away, but he knew, with the woman's piercing gaze, that she could pick up something. With practiced calm, he reigned in himself, stowing away the watch he had been holding into his coat pocket.

"Collection is over?" He smoothly asked in an almost emotionless tone. Miyoung barely moved from her spot, eyes still set on him.

"Mm. We're merging his Arcana with the others."

"And the boy's status?"

"Incredibly weak. If you're going to kill him, now is the best time to do it."

The way she said that lacked any traces of warmth and empathy. Miyoung’s inflection alone would be enough to send someone on their knees in fear, but for him, it was exactly what he needed to hear so he could finish the last thing he needed to do for the night. Silently, he picked himself up from his seat and put on his coat again. The warmth of the wayward memories that caught up with him was still buzzing at the back of his mind, but he consciously pushed them back now, latching on instead in the cold indifference his wife offered.  

"I'll take care of him. You better go to IL Giudizio. Make sure that he is ready for the assimilation."

"Are the rest dead?"

Haneul froze just a little bit just as he stepped back from his table. Miyoung was still looking at him with her penetrating gaze, though there was now a different fire burning subtly behind them. He stared back at her, looking disinterested.

"Yes. They are."

"And the girl?"

He paused. The woman slightly leaned her head to the side, her expression unreadable.

"She’s gone too."

It took a couple of seconds before any of them moved. It was like a silent war between the two of them, one that is loaded with meaning even without the need for any words. None of them wanted to give way and back down first, until finally, Miyoung broke the rising tension with a slow smile. Her eyes, once smouldering, now danced with glee.

"That's good news. If that's the case, then we can wrap this up."

Haneul didn't say anything else. His wife finally straightened up from leaning by the door, an obvious sign that she was finally satisfied with his answer. He was about to take his leave as well when he gave one last glance to his monitor. It was supposed to be a fleeting last look, but he suddenly paused when he caught something out of place there.

All seven body bags are open now, showing a glimpse of the faces inside of them. Instead of the kids he know, however, the lifeless bodies that reflected on the screen were that of strangers—men he assumed were part of the vanguard that did the silent assassination from earlier based on the peek of the blue protective suit peeking under their body bags. He looked up just in time at the guards standing over the corpses to catch one of them removing his mask.

The stranger stared straight at him from the camera as his features shifted and changed. Haneul caught up on what was happening just before the moment the transformation was complete.

Zhong Chenle smirked straight at him from the camera just as the remaining men around him took off their masks.

The last thing he saw before the feedback was cut off was a bright explosive ball going straight for his view.

******* "Poison gas. That's how they're going to kill us."

Six pairs of eyes turned towards you in silence. None of your party huddled at the table really looked surprised at your announcement, though there was an obvious tightness in the air that cloaked the room. Everyone seemed to share the same sense of tension that was growing every passing minute as you sat in silence.

“We’re sure about that?” Renjun asked quietly now from his seat. It took you a beat, but you nodded in confirmation and looked pointedly around the room.

“According to the layout of this place, that is how it looks like. You see the air vents there? They aren’t regular chutes. If you take a closer look, they’re designed to tightly seal upon command. There’s no need for them if they’re planning to attack using guns or anything that uses blunt force.”

“They won’t do that, since they know we can easily overpower them with our offenses,” Mark said. “Oxide poison makes the most sense, since we can’t fight and escape it physically.”

“And it’s the quickest method with the most minimal contact,” Haechan added lowly. You nodded. Beside him, Jaemin leveled you with his intense stare. 

“What’s the plan then? Without contact, the rest of us can’t easily use our Arcanas.”

“Are we going to try and escape from here before then? We don’t even know when they’ll come after us,” Jisung joined in, his voice sounding the most serious you’ve ever heard from him. 

Chenle shot him a grim look in answer. “But we can’t. We tried before, but this place is built like a monster. They intentionally weakened us to lower the chances of our Arcanas busting us out of this place.”

You frowned. “He’s right. I’ve seen the security level of this place when I first came in and I’m pretty sure it can only be opened from the outside. Trying to use your powers will just weaken you more and make it easier for them to kill,” you said. Beside you, Haechan started tapping his fingers lightly on the table in frustration.

“So we just let them slaughter us like that, huh?”

“Exactly.”

You knew it was a rhetorical question from him, so you weren’t surprised at all when everyone turned their heads towards you at your reply. You met each boy’s gaze unwaveringly, silently willing them to listen closely to what you were about to say. 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We let them kill us, because there is no other way we can get out of this room other than have them move us out on their own.”

“I don’t understand…” Renjun trailed off.

“Poison gases are deadly, but their effects are not instant. At least from what I know, it can take a few seconds to minutes before they kill someone. That’s more than enough time for us to do something,” you moved your gaze towards Mark who was sitting on the head of the table. “Mark, you control all forms of matter and their structure. Do you think your Arcana can change the toxicity levels of vapor?”

The boy’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. You knew he was starting to catch up with what you were trying to say from the look on his face.

“If you mean changing poison into pure, harmless gas, then yes, I think I can do it…”

You nodded. “Then we have a chance. This is how we’re going to do it. First, on the day that they’re going to kill us, we need to convince Cypher that we are still inside this room, just in case they are still tracking our movements.”

“But we are… inside. There’s no way out,” Jaemin said, looking completely lost. You shook your head slightly. 

“Wrong. We can’t go out, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hide anywhere else,” you said pointedly as your gaze slowly moved to Haechan. The boy frowned at what you said before his lips parted slightly in realization. “I’m pretty sure no poison gas can get into those shadow dimensions,” you added, the second you knew he got it. You could feel everyone on the edge of their seats now so you continued.

“Here’s how we can pull it off—and I need everyone to listen because we all need to work together to make sure it works. Haechan creates illusions of us being in the room before the attack. Once that’s done, we’ll have to move and hide inside one of his dimension portals to wait things out. Mark, we need you and Chenle to stay behind. Do you think you can do something to make sure the gas doesn’t get to you and him first?”

The boy gave a tight nod. “I can shift the air in the room so that it creates a vacuum around us. We’ll be protected.”

“Good. You and Chenle will have to find a way to somehow overpower the men closest to you under the cover of the smoke. They’ll be wearing masks for sure, and you need to move quick to attack seven of them, no more no less. Once they are poisoned, you need to switch clothes with them as quickly as you can,” you turned now towards the younger boy who had been listening to you intently.

“Chenle, you’re very important for the next steps. Once the men are poisoned, Mark has to neutralize the gas so that it can be safe for us to come out of hiding. Nobody else in the room will notice this as long as we have casualties in the room. Once we’re back in the room, you need to transform the dead bodies to look exactly like us, and change us to take their appearances. We can get out of the room then, under the disguise of the guards once we move our ‘bodies’ out.”

Nobody spoke or even made the slightest sound for a good few seconds even when you finished speaking. Instead, the boys simply stared at you with varying looks of shock and disbelief. Haechan finally broke the silence, his tone hushed when he spoke.

“Holy shit… That’s genius.”

Renjun nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering on your face too. “That might work…”

You, on the other hand, faltered slightly. “You think so? It’s going to take a lot on all of you.”

Mark shook his head. “It probably will, but it’s not like we have any other choice. We’ll have to make it work.”

The rest of the boys exchanged silent looks between each other in confirmation. Finally, Chenle said what everyone else was thinking, his words sounding like a death sentence.

“Let’s all wait to die then.”

******* “Jisung, a little help here?!”

A bright ball of light zoomed over your head just as you ducked and got on your knees. The sensation enveloping you was one of the most uncomfortable you’ve ever felt, with your flesh moving and churning against your bones as if they have a mind of their own. Somewhere beyond you, you heard Haechan’s voice call out again just as one of Jisung’s energy explosives hit something and sent the floor rumbling. Mixed in with his voice are random shouts of voices from the guards who went into the room and were still in shock from the ruckus that was happening. With a last wince, you felt your body finally snap into place again as Chenle’s Arcana finally faded off. You turned your head to the side in time to see Jaemin shift back to his appearance at the same time, a displeased look obvious in his face.

“Hell, don’t ever make me look that ugly again,” he said through gritted teeth as he pulled off the heavy protective clothing that he used as a disguise. You felt his hand immediately shoot up towards you to pull you to an upright position, only for you to try and pull him back as a man suddenly charged towards your pair from out of nowhere, his gun pointed straight at your chests. Jaemin immediately realized what was happening and held on to you as he turned his head back. 

“Jaemin, watch out—!”

The boy only look slightly concerned at the danger. Expression not even changing, he looked the man straight in the eye, causing the latter to immediately stiffen in his spot. You only heard his next words as he pushed you a little behind him to cover your view with his back.

“Don’t even think about it. Shoot yourself.”

The sound of the gun going off was swallowed by the other sounds of explosion in the room. Before you could even process what happened, you felt another slight tug at your hand as you were once again pushed forward. Renjun and Haechan appeared on your side just as you tried to look around, the latter bringing the rear as he tried to push your group forward.  

“Mark-hyung! Chenle!”

The two boys in question were currently on the other side of the room, both engaged in fights of their own. You only caught glimpses of them as you moved, but you were sure you saw balls of fire from Mark’s hand and what look like ragged blades made of steel being thrown around by Chenle to the men closest to him. The older of the pair gave your group one quick look, before blasting another man off his way.

“Jisung, go with them! We’ll follow. Find Jeno and the headmaster!”

You swiveled your head to find Jisung at the head of the room, blue currents crackling in his hand just as he electrocuted a man he was in a lock of arms with. Without another word, he pushed the unconscious guard off him and started running towards your pack still being led by Jaemin. The latter’s eyes were swiveling everywhere, desperately searching for something. 

“Renjun, which one—”

“The man near the door. He knows where they are. He’s he head of guard,” the other boy quickly answered, his pupils dilated as he stared at the said guard. His eyes looked glassy but focused at the same time, and you knew, he had gotten into the man’s head, sifting through his memories. “I got it. I already know where they are, but we need him to open the door. Jeno’s closest to us.”

Jaemin didn’t waste any second to take action. Crossing the distance just as Jisung met your group, he barely even flinched when the man raised his gun and open fired towards your direction. You gasped, but the bullets flew off towards different directions as Jisung pulled up his energy shield around all of you at the nick of time. One bullet actually bounced back towards the guard, catching him on his thigh and making him double over in pain towards the floor. Jaemin caught before he even managed to catch his next breath though, his hand going over half of the man’s face. 

“Stand up. Bring us to Jeno,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. The guard’s eyes glazed over, and like a puppet, stood up and started walking towards the door despite the heavy bleeding on his leg.

“Jisung, bring the front. I’ll take care of the defense,” Haechan’s voice sounded tense as your group finally stepped out of the room. The hallway that welcomed you was now flashing with red lights and you could hear sirens blaring in the distance. You ignored the growing painful stitch at your side as your unit started speeding down the corridors, following the hypnotized man at the head of your group. 

“We don’t have much time. We need to get to them fast,” you panted as you tried your best to keep up with everyone. A sudden bright flash of light almost made you trip in surprise as Jisung threw spears of light towards a group of men that suddenly appeared from around one of the bends you just passed. Behind you, Renjun quickly picked you up and pushed you forward again, his hand on your back. 

“We’re almost there. Jeno’s in the third hallway,” Renjun said urgently before his breath caught. Eyes widening, he suddenly turned around and shouted at Haechan who was just a few feet behind.

“Haechan, three guards incoming—”

He was barely able to finish his sentence when three men appeared just as he said, their guns set on your group. Before any of them could pull the trigger, however, a big gaping black hole opened behind them with monstrous jaws. One man almost screamed in surprise, but he was immediately cut off when it swallowed him and the rest of the guards, leaving nothing but their guns clattering on the floor. You gasped but Haechan barely even missed a beat as he continued to run behind your group.

“I swear, if we’re not even close yet—”

“We’re here!”

Jaemin’s voice cut through the noise as your group skidded to a halt in front of a double set of metal doors. Breaths heaving, you all watched as the hypnotized warden moved over like a puppet to unlock it in a trance. It took a moment before the said gates parted, but you felt yourself pushed inside as soon as you could slip between the crack. The rest of the boys followed behind shortly, just as the wayward sound of bullets came from the corridor you just left. You have barely caught your breaths and balance when you all collectively froze in shock at the scene that welcomed you.

Strapped in the bed in the middle of the room was Jeno, his eyes only half open as he stared at nothing in particular. Hovering above him, his hand pressed against his barely moving chest, was another boy who seemed to be surrounded by a dark force field. Your eyes widened just as the stranger looked up and locked gazes with yours. You almost stumbled backwards as you realized what you were looking at. Somebody caught you just in time before you lost your balance, Mark’s voice barely piercing through your fear as he spoke.

“What’s happening—”

The boy’s voice faded just as the monster with Jeno’s exact face twisted his lips into a smirk.

******* “What the fuck…”

Chenle’s shocked voice was like a shot of cold water that brought all of you back to your senses. Eyes still wide, you felt Mark’s arm pull you back urgently before he stepped in front of you. His stance was tight, but you could feel the slight tremors running through him as he kept you close. When the monster straightened up and stepped away from the bed, the rest of the boys around you fell back to defensive stances even with different levels of horror on their faces.

“Jeno-hyung,” Jisung mumbled, sounding equal parts lost and terrified. As if it heard him, the creature turned his head towards him before taking another step towards your group. There was something about the nature of its movement that seemed deeply unnatural and eerie, and you could see now how its eyes glowed black, the same way Jeno’s did back in the torture room. Unlike Jeno though, you knew this boy your were looking at is anything but human. 

“That’s not him,” Jaemin’s hollow voice barely pierced through your shock as he finally spoke beside you. A heavy weight settled at the pit of your stomach as Renjun finished what the other couldn’t say.

“That’s a clone.”

Renjun’s last word is what seemed to have triggered the spiral of events that followed. The shadow image of Jeno smirked wider at the sound of it, its eyes turning even darker as it regarded your group. Not a heartbeat after, black humanoid shadows burst out from the floor and caused tremors that threw all of you out of balance. A sound of pain was torn away from you forcefully as you were slammed back against the wall by the earthquake it caused. Your head spun, but you managed to open your eyes just in time to see the monsters start to move towards the direction of your group, their sizes growing with every step.

“Shit!”

“He has the same Arcana as him!”

“Watch out!

The shouts overlapped around you into a cacophony of mess. A growing ringing in your ears kept you from knowing who was shouting, but you did feel a force try to pick you up from the floor as you tried to blink away the spinning of your head. You focus and balance still off, you barely registered your body being shoved again into the wall. You blinked. Looking up, you saw Chenle’s hazy profile before you. There was a wall of rock covering the both of you from whatever force was pushing from the other side, and he gritted his teeth in pain as his hands pressed against the barrier. Your mind only snapped to clarity at what was happening when long, deep cracks ran around his summoned shield right in front of your eyes.

“Chenle—”

“Haechan-hyung! This isn’t gonna work! We need your shadow room!”

A deafening roar from somewhere made you instinctively grab the boy and throw both of you towards the floor. It was done just at the nick of time too, as a massive clawed arm finally broke through the rock shield Chenle was trying to hold up. Your first instinct was to roll away and drag your pair away as far as possible from the still raging monster now pounding at the ruined shield, but a different set of arms both lifted you from the floor before you could even do it. You barely caught a glimpse of Jaemin before he was dragging you towards the other end of the room, his eyes wild as he looked around. You gasped as you saw half of his face covered with blood, but you didn’t even have enough time to process that as another explosion made you unconsciously flinch and curl.

“Haechan! Do something! I have her!” the boy roared over the sounds of blasts and growls that has taken over the room. A rain of loose rocks and cement poured over your heads from the ceiling as another resounding bang tore through the air.

“I’m trying! Get out of the way!” Haechan’s voice shouted back from god knows where. You couldn’t see him in the ruckus that was happening, and you didn’t even have a chance to try and look for him, because the next thing you know, a black void opened in your peripheral vision. Jaemin started pushing you towards it without another word. 

“No! You need to come too!” You screamed in panic when you realized he and Chenle weren’t coming with you. You tried to reach out to both of them just as the void started to close, but both quickly stepped away before you could get your hands on them.

“We can’t. We need to get Jeno first. Mark and the others can’t do it on their own, just stay there and wait for us!”

That was the last you heard before the darkness finally swallowed you. All of a sudden the noise from the room cut off, and you were surrounded with nothing but the deafening silence of the room Haechan conjured with his chaos magic. Only the sound of your heaving breaths pressed against your ears as your knees finally gave way and you fell to the floor.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there as you tried to catch your breath. You weren’t sure if you are bleeding anywhere, but that was the least of your worries as you fought against the crashing emotions inside of you that made you almost choke in your own breath. There was a moment of silence as you tried to clutch on the floor of shadows in an effort to ground yourself, but it was short-lived as an unexpected tremor shook the very void you were in. You gasped and looked around wildly. The force felt like something of an attack from the outside, but you couldn’t confirm when it suddenly stopped just as soon as it came. At this point, you knew your nerves were frayed to their limit. The dead silence that followed was even more painful as you waited breathlessly for the next blow. 

Boom!

Your scream caught in your throat at the splitting sound that sliced the  silence enveloping you. All of a sudden, the darkness surrounding you was overcome by a sudden wash of light coming from a crack in the void. Before you could even wrap your head around what you were looking at, a monstrous arm reached out from the hole and wrapped its burning fingers around your neck. It pulled you back so hard and fast into the source of the light that the only thing that registered to you was the chilling sound of cracks that tore through your consciousness. The next thing you know you were staring at one of the shadow monsters as it held you in mid-air by your neck, its black glowing eyes drilling against you.

The blunt force must have broken something in you because you could feel nothing of the pain after. The shock of it all, however, is what really made you numb. It barely even registered to you how you were back in the real world, Haechan’s dimension seemingly torn into shreds by the beast alone. Your head was feeling heavy, and you’re convinced you are about to lose consciousness any time as more of your airflow was cut off. With the last of your energy, you tried to move your eyes across the room. Your sight had gone blurry by the edges, but you managed to register the bleeding face of Mark staring up at you in horror before you felt gravity started to pull you down. Slowly, the monster let go of its hold on your neck, only for your body to be caught again in mid-air… by its arm piercing through your stomach.

“No!”

“Mark! Stop!”

“Kun-ge!”

“Ten! Get to her first! I’ll get the others!”

Everything was just a blur of colors, shapes, and sounds after that. Your body hit the floor, but you didn’t feel any pain as the last of your breaths started to leave you. Your eyes were still open, but your mind was struggling to understand what you were seeing and what they mean. Even in the growing hollowness quickly swallowing you though, you saw the way the shadow monster stopped just before it was about to drive its last blow on your battered body, as if it was suddenly frozen in time. It was only a few seconds before you lost consciousness when a familiar face took over your dimmed line of sight, his face hovering over you as he made a motion to pick you up.

“Hey, you’re okay. Just stay still.”

Ten…?

“We’re getting out of here.”

******* The feeling was worse than what you hoped death would be like.

If limbo was a solid construct, it is exactly the sensation that was wrapping you right now. It was different from anything you have experienced before, with your consciousness caught between a wakeful state and a growing numbness that always seems to pull you under every time you were just about to break the surface. You have no idea where you are or even who you are, and yet there was one strand of thought that you were clinging desperately into as a lifeline.

You were fading into nothing. And it was terrifying.

"Love. Love, don't close your eyes. Don't go to sleep yet."

"We're losing her—no. No. We need to do something!"

"Renjun! Where are you!"

The sound of that name brought a mild undercurrent of shock over whatever trace of life was still left in you. You know that name… you've said it so many times before but you couldn't really remember why… Renjun… Renjun…

"Renjun?"

"Yes, noona?"

The way your vision snapped to focus almost knocked out the air from you. From floating in nothingness, you were all of a sudden back on your feet again, standing in the middle of a shadowed corridor. Turning your head to the side, your eyes ever so slightly widened when you saw Renjun beside you, his gaze set on something in front of him. You frowned. You didn't know what was happening, but at the same time, there was a part of you that seemed to exactly know the answers you are trying to grasp. You watched silently as the boy’s lips turned up into a soft smile as if he could hear your thoughts, before he finally turned to look at you.

"Where are we?"

He tilted his head a little to the side at your question. He seemed calm, a complete  contrast to the confusion swirling in your head at the moment. He gave you a look before turning away again and nodding his chin towards something. The action made you finally follow his gaze, only for your heart to drop at what you saw beyond.

"Where it all started. I think you know exactly where we are."

The white door from your dreams loomed in front of you like a ghost. It looks exactly like the real one you walked through back in Rosewood—the threshold to your father's office where you found his secrets. The only difference now is that the door you are looking at didn’t have its bronze knob burned and singed yet, and that there was no smoke coming from under its gap near the floor.

"Why are we…"

Your voice trailed off as you took in the sight in front of you. You were so lost that you didn't even notice the way Renjun had threaded his fingers on yours until you felt him squeeze your hand. The comfort the gesture brought grounded you just a little, numbing your mind before it went down a full spiral.

"It's time to open that door again."

He said those words so softly, and yet you could hear the urgency in them still. You hesitated. A part of you didn't want to move, afraid of what you might find on the other side of it, but there was also something unexplainable urging you to do the exact opposite. For a few more seconds you stood there, gauging your options, before finally raising your hand and reaching out to the knob. Beside you, Renjun gave you one final squeeze just as you turned and pushed it back.

The door parted slowly as if it had a life of its own. You weren't sure if you were still breathing in the first place, but your chest felt absolutely still as you waited for it to reveal what was behind it. When you finally caught glimpses of what's beyond, there was a brief moment when your mind started to figure out what you were seeing. Everything looked exactly the same from your father’s office back in the academy, but then your eyes moved down to its center... 

And landed on a girl lying on a table in the middle of the room. You couldn’t see her face at first since she had her head turned away from you so you took a silent step inside to try and see more. You have finally passed through the door when she finally moved, causing the light in the room to wash all over your features. You stopped, your breath freezing in your chest. Lying beyond was a woman....

With the exact same face as you. 

It felt like the floor was torn away from under your footing. You were confused, the feeling only growing as another table materialized next to where your doppelganger was. Your eyes widened in surprise. Resting on it was Renjun, his hair still long just like when he first came to Cypher. Quickly, you turned to look at the boy on your side. The Renjun who first came to your dreams was still there holding your hand. He was looking at both your duplicates beyond with an unreadable light in his eyes. 

“What’s happening?” you asked, your voice sounding thin and almost breaking at the edges. He squeezed your hand again but kept his sight trained straight at the scene in front of you. 

“Watch.” 

You did what you were told. The doppelgangers in front of you have barely moved since they came into focus, so your eyes bounced around the other details around them in the hopes of finding something that can make you better understand. When they finally focused on the tables they were lying on, a shocking realization hit you like a wave. They were the exact same desks you found in your father’s office—the ones you thought were so out of place when you first stumbled on them. 

That’s when it hit you. 

You're not looking at an illusion, nor was this just a dream. The girl you are looking at is not a copycat. 

But you…

"From a memory," Renjun whispered beside you as if he just heard your train of thought. At that moment, you saw the girl’s lips move, silently at first, before they finally formed words. 

"I trust you."

The sound of your own voice startled you. The moment you heard them, the scene changed as if someone had flipped it. This time, there were also others in the room, surrounding the table where you are. Mark, Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan, Jisung and Chenle were looking down on you and Renjun's doppelgangers, their faces unreadable. Renjun's double also turned his head towards the girl beside him before reaching out gently to her face. Above him, Jaemin moved over to hold him down while the rest hovered around you. You noticed how the boys seemed to take calculated positions, as if whatever was happening was already pre-arranged. Mark stood over to your left while Jeno hovered near your head. Jaemin, Chenle, and Haechan reached out to pin down your hands and legs. 

"This is going to hurt," Renjun vision whispered to yours. 

You nodded.

"I know."

"Close your eyes."

You flinched as you heard yourself scream in pain just as soon as she did what she was told. The moment was fleeting, however, as your view of the room suddenly spun out of control. The corridor melted and vanished, including Renjun and the whole slice of memory you have been watching, only for it to snap back at an entirely different place. That happened again and again, words jumping and scenes flipping as you jumped from one place to another. All throughout, you remained on your spot, unable to do anything but watch and listen to whatever it was presented in front of you. 

"You need to do it, Mark. It's the only way it will work."

"Make sure to give me a good dream, alright Haechan?"

"Chenle and Jisung… you'll help noona, right?"

"I'm sorry, Jaemin…"

"Give me this pendant at the right moment, Renjun. And a flower. A yellow daffodil will be nice."

"Jeno… Will you wait for me?"

You doubled over and clutched at the sides of your head as the noises, colors, smells, and sensations washed over you like a huge tidal wave. You could feel yourself splitting at the seams and being brought back together again and again. You were confused. In pain. Terrified. Lost.

"I'll leave my memories to your care."

Your own haunting voice echoed in your head. The words made you freeze, killing the screams you didn't even know were making. Eyes wide and pupils shaking, you looked up again only to find yourself in an entirely different room. Your gaze settled on another vision of you and the boys, though this time, everything was different.

Your eyes focused on an exact copy of you again lying down on a bed. Unlike the vision at Rosewood, however, this version of you looked pale and almost lifeless. Black marks decorated your neck, and half of your body from your stomach down was drenched in blood. Your chest was still… Except for the times it unnaturally gets lifted from Jisung's electric shocks. Your heart dropped to your chest as you realized what you were looking at.

This was not part of your dreams or even your memories.

This… was your present.

"She's losing a lot of blood. Chenle!" Haechan's high-pitched voice turned on the rest of the noises of the previously silent scene you were watching. He was holding what looked like a blood-soaked towel against the hole in your stomach, his own hands stained with the red liquid as he tried his best to plug your wound. Across from him, clutching your other side was Chenle, whose face was illuminated by a strange light coming from his hands pressed close to your flesh. He looked pale. Scared.

"I'm trying. Her muscles are binding slowly because her wound is severe. Jisung—"

"Her heart is not starting," the other boy, who was hovering over your upper half, answered in a trembling voice. You watched as he pressed his hands on your chest again before sending another jolt of electricity that sent your back arching up before falling limply on the bed. “We need her heartbeat to pick up faster. I can’t do it alone.” 

"Her pulse. It's fading," Mark sounded hollow as he clutched on to your hand. "We can't do this. Her life force is leaving faster than we can bring it back."

Jaemin, who was standing next to him, gritted his teeth in frustration. He was trying to hold up Renjun who was currently standing by your head with his hands pressed against your temples. "We need Jeno. Where are they?"

As soon as he said the name, a new movement from your peripheral vision made you tear your eyes away from the bloody scene. Appearing out of thin air was Ten trying to hold up Kun and Jeno on both his sides. Your lips parted in shock. Your surprise was mirrored by the other boys, though they were quicker to recover at the sight of the newcomers.

Renjun didn't waste another breath before calling out to the younger of the trio.

"Jeno, she's dying! You need to hold back her lifeforce from fading to give Chenle and Jisung more time to revive her."

You watched, stumped, as the boy in question pulled himself away from Ten and immediately tried to rush over to where you are. He looked disoriented and weak, but he managed to catch himself and grab on to your other free hand before he lost his balance. Just like Chenle, a glow came from his hand, weak but still lighting up your joined palms. You took in a breath as things finally started moving in your head. 

"I'm here. Come on. Fight it."

Jeno's raspy voice sounded close to your ears even as you watched him from the safe distance of where you stood. When you saw him press your other self's cold fingers against his lips, you felt a jolt in your chest that was mirrored by the slight movement of your other body across the room. The other boys caught it, Mark in particular who held on tighter to your other hand he was still holding.

"Her pulse is getting stronger. Chenle, Jisung, just a little bit more."

The two boys in question said something back, but you didn't catch any of it as your attention was caught by Renjun from the other side of the room. Unlike the others who seemed unaware of your detached presence in the scene, he looked right straight at you, his eyes piercing.

"Noona. It's time to remember."

The next sequence of events all happened in a matter of seconds. You were yanked back from the ground you were standing on as your consciousness was sucked into a void where blasts of colors and sounds clashed and melded with each other. Wounds closed and bones snapped back to their right places. Memories of the far and recent past melded together, forming a singular consciousness that grew and grew and grew until they consumed you. Everything was unbearably overwhelming, not until a voice pierced through the noise.

"Please. Come back to me."

Everything stilled to a sudden halt. The room was silent, the only sound you can hear being the calm thumps of your own heartbeat. Slowly, you opened your eyes and let your vision settle on the first thing you could see. Jeno's face came into focus, his gaze moving over the rest of your features quickly. The moment your eyes locked, you saw realization dawn behind his.

"Do you…"

You didn't answer. Instead, you reached out for his face, your thumb grazing his cheek.

"Can you help me up, love?" You whispered. He momentarily paused before he took a step back to gently guide you into a sitting position. Around you, the rest of the boys moved away from the bed to give you breathing space. Kun and Ten also stepped closer towards your line of vision from the other side of the room. They were wearing the same expression the rest had on their faces—a mixture of concern, wariness, and reverence. You touched every single face staring at you with your gaze, before your lips tipped into a slow smile.

"Hello, boys… Missed me?"

Nobody said a word at first. Finally, Kun gave a slight bow of his head in answer.

"Welcome back…"

"IL Matto."

AUTHOR’S NOTE: So... I may have half-lied about a couple of things. First, it is true that this is Arcane’s end. The catch, is that it is only the last chapter of the first book. I decided to split the plot into two parts, because I know so many things have happened in the story already and I needed a breather to gather more inspiration for the remaining half of the story. I would like to thank everyone who has been with this journey so far. I really wouldn’t have kept the torch up this long if not for all of your support. For now though, I need to take a quick rest. 

Book 2 may come a little later than my usual timeline of publishing updates, but as you’ve figured out from the end of the chapter, it will cover the rest of the story with a heavy focus on everything that has happened before the start of Arcane. For those of you who want to read it, I’ll be waiting for you again once it starts. 

Again, I’d like to express my appreciation to all of you who have showed loved for Arcane. Can’t wait to see you again at the start of a new journey. P.S. Congratulations to all those who came so close with the theories and thank you to those who took the time to think about them. You’re all starting to learn how to pick my brain. <3 ;)

Love, 

Sammy

-----

BOOK 2: Chapter 1

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[apperception]

Grasping for a new type of relationship

Three years into non-monogamy and I’m still falling into old patterns; reminiscing and yearning for the boredom and frustration of monogamy, rather than the free-floating anxiety of freedom.

I thought being non-monogamous would be the best way to undo my old rancid patterns, to cut me free of my over reliance on others, my hunger for a parent-like partner who cares for me like a child - unconditionally - but still finds me wildly fuckable.

And in realising that I have once again fallen into this old groove - wanting my partner to care for me, be my backbone, make my decisions for me, be there for me 24/7, or at the very least when I want them to be there for me - to lick me when I want, to cradle me when I want it, to be in the mood I want them to be in - I recoil, realising that they are their own separate person and I do not own them and cannot control them. And in realising that they cause me stress, perhaps more stress than the pleasures of the relationship are worth, I withdraw, imagining breaking up with them, carving out a new kind of life (but yes, a life with a different partner — not alone). Thinking of this is already a kind of liberation. In the morning, or late in the evening, when I am anxiously waiting on a text from them, I think: but just imagine, to be free of this anxiety you could break up with them. Instead of being anxious, you could be sad about this gaping loss, this loss of ALL texts. And so, waiting for a text or not being texted at all times when I want to be, seems preferable to breaking up, and then somehow I am not as anxious any more, and I am able to sit back and get back to my own life. *This is preferable to nothing,* I can tell myself.

And that’s either a very depressing message - accept the scraps you are given - or it’s a realistic one, and one I have to learn in every single relationship I’m in, realising that they have a life beyond me (just as I do them, and should have more of). Stop waiting on their texts and get on with your life. Be appreciative of what they do offer and stop wanting ever more, more, more - wanting them to always be exactly what you need in that moment.

Because the partner and life I fantasise about wouldn’t be always there for me either. That partner would also have a job, and they would be out. And if we lived together we’d be stuck arguing about the dishes and I would want more quiet time to read and write and stretch and do things along, without them being around all the time. And I’d be exactly back in the same situation that made me yearn for freedom and independence.

And so I oscillate. It’s the tension between freedom and security, being the creator of your own life or being able to depend on a stable presence at all times. The former feels scary; the latter feels like reverting to a childlike state.

And I often fantasise about other couples I see, the ones with ‘good’ relationships, the ones where the woman (my avatar) can lean on her partner, where they are her rock, where their embrace dissolves her pain and frustration and stress, where they are her refuge, a salve, a balm.

I had partners like that; partners whose very smell was soothing, whose hugs could cure all ills, with whom I felt an animal sense of safety with.

But they were boring. They didn’t go out, or they’d spend days on the sofa, or they’d be too shy with friends and others, or too insecure to send off a job application, and I’d end up doing their admin and managing their life relationships for them. I’d go out by myself, but they would disapprove of my activism, my radical activities, my going breakdancing too late at night. They’d lie depressed on the sofa while I went out dancing, being tempted by a new friend who promised excitement (and with whom I’d eventually cheat).

And so I wanted to try a different kind of relationship. One based on adventure, and fun, and sexual freedom. Where we could fuck other people, sometimes in front of each other, sometimes separately. Where we live in different cities and never aspire to live together, where we can go on holiday with different people, where we see our friends separately and live separate lives. Where we go out dancing and to museums and the cinema and we feed off the fizz of the other one’s energy.

But you can’t always be out, and excited, and running at full pelt. At some point you need slowness and stability and care. You need softness and affection and cuddles on the sofa. You need both, and which are you going to choose? Because so far, in the partners you’ve had, you’ve had one or the other, but not both.

What was the dream? What was I aiming for?

A queer non-monogamous life — in which I rely on myself, but have a revolving coterie of partners, lovers and friends to fulfil my needs - in which I don’t *need* anyone? Or perhaps I need lots of people, but I’m distributing those needs? Or perhaps I’m getting used to being alone and focusing on my craft and my art, and instead of leaning on the illusion of an eternally-there monogamous partner who is loyal (because they signed a piece of paper saying they would be)… I rely on someone who *chooses* to be there, but that means that they sometimes might not be? Accepting freedom instead of stability is a hard deal indeed.

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #4-6

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,133

Summary:  I don’t deserve you, little love of mine. Not one damn piece of you.

Warnings: angsty fluff, night terrors, PTSD, Ezra dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, overuse of space metaphors, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: As always, thank you readers for your support! All the love to each one of you! Hope you like these new segments 💖

Entries #1-3 #7-9

Cross-posted on AO3

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

I feel a little less torn after speaking with Cee, hearing her voice crackling across the radio regale me with details of her current studies at Cero Tol, the latest novel she’s devouring, the daytrip she made to Lao to collect shells for an art project—it reminds me there was a sliver of profound goodness to come out of my otherwise disastrous journey to the Green. She rambles and babbles and laughs at her tongue’s inability to keep up with all she has to share. Her soul has found exactly what it has always yearned for: a life of her own making.

For all that she lost on the Green, she has adapted to her new path and overcome every obstacle with the same bullheaded determination a helianthus possesses. Never losing sight of her goals just as the flower never loses sight of the sun. 

I must admit I’d been reluctant to split ways with her after our perilous escape from the Green—after all, nothing bonds people together faster than the collaboration of slicing off an arm and creaming the gaping wound shut, then immediately engaging in a bloody conflict with heavily armed mercs—but she deserved better than to live a floater’s life tainted by a lack of morals and the uncertainty of not knowing if she would survive from one sunrise to the next.

She deserved to live a life amongst her own peers. To rouse that spark of creativity her father tried to extinguish. To turn gold in all the ways I cannot. 

Sending her to school was worth every point and credit we managed to scrape together. Still, I remember how bittersweet it felt watching that little bird, ever so fearless in the face of sudden change, march right up the ramp of the freighter at the Pug, determined to make me and you proud by excelling at the academy. Standing amongst the sea of parents waving goodbye to their children, I wrapped my arm around your waist, rested my head atop yours, and forced myself to swallow a harsh pill of truth.

With or without me in her life, Cee is going to be just fine.

I remember how you swung our linked hands as we walked back to our ship, your sweet voice a soothing balm easing the ache of my melancholic heart. Ezra, she’s fierce and bold and strong. That little golden child is going to have her name written in the stars one day.

Kevva do I hope I live to see your vision come true.

First thing I remember noticing about you was your eyes. Remember how I caught you staring at me from across the bar? You looked at me like I was your North Star pointing you home, like I was something shiny and special. You scared the fuck out of me. It’s the worst thing I ever thought, but it’s true. I would have fled the scene if your gaze hadn’t anchored my soul. 

You introduced yourself, and I knew goodbye would never be a word exchanged between us. No, we became a pair of binary stars, constantly orbiting each other round and round, hello again and see you soon. Falling in love with you was inevitable. The Currents designed you perfect for me. Designed you with meteorite in your bones and sunlight on your lips and all the constellations sparkling in your eyes. There is no grander form of paradise than to feel you beneath my hand. There is no comparison. No second place contender. Just you, your tender heart, and the galaxies you contain. 

Sometimes, late at night when you’re asleep and my thoughts are too loud for my head, I stare at the ceiling and speculate about alternate verses. Verses starring another me and another you crisscrossing each other’s paths as we’re pulled across the galaxy by our heartstrings. Somewhere, there is another me who never escapes the ruthlessness of the Green and breathes my last with Inumon’s knife in my lungs. Another me who will never know the emotional and physical anguish that accompanies the loss of a limb. Another me who pulls the thrower’s trigger without hesitation, firing a shot between the wide eyes of an innocent girl. Another me who ignores the temptation of harvesting aurelac in hopes of making a reputable name for myself. 

Somewhere, there is another me who ran away from another you.

And it pains me to wonder if perhaps you’re happier never knowing me.

I speculate about those two most of all.

I woke up to screaming. My mind was a tangled mess, caught between the thin barriers separating reality from dreamscape, and I was truly convinced my head would explode from the noise. Inumon wouldn’t stop screaming no matter how hard I squeezed my fingers, no matter how much of my bulk I pressed down upon her. It’s me! She wailed like an animal in a trap, sensing impending doom but unable to flee from it. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me! Please, Ezra!

A thought crossed my mind, as sudden and blinding as a shooting star streaking through the midnight sky, and I found myself incapable of ignoring it. How does she know my name? I had cloaked my identity using a dead man’s name. It wasn’t feasible for her to know the truth or for the sound of my name coming out of her mouth to set my skin aflame. 

There aren’t words to describe the horror which consumed me when I looked down upon your tear-stained face. 

My mama once told me everybody’s a sinner. We have wickedness embedded in our cells from womb to tomb. It buries its roots deep, resistant to our attempts to rid ourselves of its corruption, and waits for the precise moment to inflict pain upon those we love most. Those who choose to love us despite the warning signs.

In the aftermath, when my fucking fingerprints were smudged across your throat blue and purple, you held me like I was a human and not a monster or a vexation or a broken thing to toss aside. I couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop my mind from conjuring a torturous loop of what ifs. 

What if I hadn’t stopped myself? What if you hadn’t broken the nightmare’s spell? What if your last word had been my name? 

Hush, you whispered. My tremors worsened upon hearing the raspy quality of your voice and you pressed your lips to my forehead. An undeserved benediction. I’m here. You haven’t lost me. 

I don’t deserve you, little love of mine. Not one damn piece of you. If I could I’d give you the whole galaxy, but I only have one hand and it terrifies me to risk letting you go. Forgive me, please, for asking you to stay with me.

Forgive me for how much I dearly love you.

Notes:

Cero Tol is a made up academy based on Cerro Tololo Inter-American Observatory located in Chile. 

Lao is an island planet(?) mentioned in Prospect. Damon tells Cee she was born there.

Helianthus is the genus for sunflowers. I liked the fanciness of it 🙂

Points were referenced in Prospect as a type of currency. Credits are a Star Wars form of currency that I thought would also be fitting to use.

Binary Stars =  a system of two stars in which one star revolves around the other or both revolve around a common center.

I like to think there are alternate realities or a multiverse. It’s fun to imagine all the different possibilities another me is experiencing. 

I don’t think I’ll ever understand why guns in Prospect are called throwers, but that’s what the creators decided so that’s the terminology I’ll use too.

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