#its okay its fine not like i need those to live- *dies*

[kandidandi]

Us anons are coming to your house. We're taking everything in the fridge, and we're taking your beloved Suncatcher.

:'(

[dr-spectre]

The autism representation in Splatoon needs to be studied and celebrated because oh my god it's actually really damn good and some of the best in media, especially compared to how its usually portrayed in popular media....

As someone who is on the spectrum and has been diagnosed, it's really comforting to know that one of my favorite game series has such positive depictions of autism and isn't just stereotypical depictions we commonly see in media.

Autism in most media is either portrayed as white nerdy dudes who are cold robots that have super intelligence, can understand alien languages and see the world like they are a fucking Lego master builder or some shit and see blueprints in the sky like in The Good Doctor or The Big Bang Theory with Sheldon. Or it's portrayed as people who are incredibly disabled, cannot communicate and have constant tantrums as seen with the dogshit movie Music (2021). Literally the depiction of autism in that movie is actually fucking dangerous as it shows a person pushing an autistic person who is having a meltdown onto the ground and RESTRICTING THEM! WHICH IS VERY VERY VERY BAD! DO NOT DO THIS!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!! AUTISTIC PEOPLE HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF THIS!!!!!!!!

Now I'm not saying that these types of autistic people don't exist, remember, it's a spectrum so there's a ton of variety in people who have autism, some people have really high intelligence, some have low social skills and need help, some can talk for hours and hours to anyone, some need serious help to function day to day living and thats perfectly fine. however the type i listed of the super cold robotic genuis is just the really popular stereotype which impacts the perception of autistic people just trying to live and enjoy life like everyone else. Some autistic people are just in the middle and aren't on any of the extremes. There are tons of people who fall into the "low needs" and "high needs" sides of autism of course, however there isn't exactly a ton of representation for people in the middle and sometimes those popular representations of autism can damage the entire perception of the spectrum. And there still isn't a lot of fair representation of "high needs" autistic people in media and that needs to change as well.

Thankfully Splatoon doesn't go for any damaging stereotypes but instead goes for something a little more positive. I think the best examples of this are Marina, Marie and Harmony. While they haven't been canonically confirmed as being on the autism spectrum, they are heavily hinted that they are and show some evidence that supports it.

Harmony for instance is just.... a regular autistic girl, she isn't some incredibly smart girl, no, she's just a regular girl who speaks in a blunt and neutral way but that's about it. As someone who is autistic i can relate somewhat to how she speaks, in real life i tend to just say a few words when talking to someone and i don't really sound energetic or loud about it. i just go "Hey. Hi. Alright. Okay. Oh ok. Uh. I'm good." Some autistic people normally do not speak like they are the nerd emoji and sound hyper smart like Sheldon from Big Bang Theory, and they are not able to speak entirely. That's not what ALL autistic people sound like. There's a decent chunk of them that just speak regularly or speak a little quietly and thats okay. Harmony captures the speech of what a fair portion of autistic people talk like, but not every single autistic person of course. There is a large chunk of autistic people who need support when it comes to communication, and that's perfectly okay. They are just valid as human beings as the ones who can speak.

She also has an interest in music as she is the singer of Chirpy Chips and is seen stimming and fidgeting with an Ultra Hand. Autistic people usually fidget and stim to calm themselves down and keep their emotions in check, maybe Harmony plays with the Ultra Hand because it helps her stay calm when running Hotlantis.

Now it's time to talk about the most popular example of autistic representation in Splatoon. Marina.

She is quite shy when you zoom in on her in Splatoon 2 when you play as an Inkling, but is known to ramble about machinery and excavators to Pearl and Acht for hours at a time. Technology and machinery seem to be a special interest for her as shown with her creating the Shifty Stations for Splatfests, having hacking abilities and building the Memverse. She gets so much energy and excitement from working on the Memverse as shown by her dialogue in the Dev Diaries. However she is not a flawless super genius like in most depictions of autistic characters, she is known to have uncontrollable emotional outbursts, when Pearl even suggests the idea of Off the Hook breaking up she becomes extremely devastated and thinks of the worst case scenario in her dialogue from the Chaos vs Order Splatfest. She sometimes can't control her anger and snaps at Pearl after losing multiple times in a row in Splatfests.

She also has issues with proper work life balance as she overworks herself with working on the Memverse alongside going on a world tour with Pearl, she vents abouts this in her 10th Dev Diary in Side Order. And speaking of order, she chose team order because she wanted to maintain the balance in her life that she has found. A lot of autistic people have strict routines and any changes to that routine will cause them to get really distressed. If someone comes into my space and says "hey we're going out in 10 minutes." I'm gonna get pissed off and be in a terrible mood as my routine has been disrupted and i wanna do something else. Routines give autistic people a lot of comfort and predictability.

Marina's deepest flaw she kept hidden was the desire of a perfect world of order where nothing can change because she's so scared of her new life being destroyed, but she learns to overcome this fear of change with the help of Pearl by the end of Side Order which may inspire autistic people to learn to be more okay with change, even if its very hard.

Marina is also seen wearing her headphones quite often and rarely takes them off which may indicate she might have sensory issues. Some autistic people may suffer with sensory issues and need to wear headphones or certain pieces of clothing to stay calm and keep their emotions from becoming too much. I tend to wear headphones often because i hate my ears being exposed and I'm very sensitive to certain noises.

She also may have another special interest which may be the Squid Sisters as she litters her laptop and keytar with Squid Sister stickers. Marina also talks in a very excited tone when you get Marie's and Callie's palettes in Side Order. She also acts very giddy and excited during live performances with them and starts stimming which is shown by her moving around in place and clamping her hands together.

Another character who you might not think is autistic right away but shows signs of it is Marie. And to be honest i find her to be very relatable.

Marie is known to be more quiet than her cousin and she acted like this since she was a child. Marie also seems to struggle with social situations and struggles to talk with Agent 4 and Neo Agent 3 and wishes they can just leave her alone when you keep talking to her. However she seems to be a lot more comfortable talking with people she trusts and loves like her cousin Callie. She also makes quite snarky and sometimes rude comments but that doesn't mean she's a rude person, she just likes being cheeky and truly cares about the people around her. She even self loathes and worries about her cousin to an unhealthy degree.

A lot of people tend to say that autistic people have low empathy when in reality some autistic people are far from the case. Some autistic people might be TOO empathetic but they cannot show it because it's just so much for them that they can't properly express it. Marie may appear as rude and non caring but she's genuinely a very caring and emotional person but she doesn't know how to show it due to not having developed communication skills compared to neurotypical people. A fair amount of autistic people are not shy people that don't care about you, they just have a different way of speech and communication. 2 autistic people can talk vastly different from each other. It is a spectrum after all. There are some who may have low empathy, but they are not psychopaths who don't care about human life. It's really, really weird to think that and kind of damaging to see autistic people in that kind of light.

Marie is also known to be a picky eater and despises vegetables, refuses to eat the ends of bread loafs, hates tomatoes and pineapple on pizza. (she's literally me holy shit...) some autistic people can have sensory issues when it comes to certain textures and smells and vegetables usually have a weird texture compared to meats and other food groups. They can be seen as "picky eaters" that don't wanna try anything but, some autistic people genuinely cannot eat certain foods and may get sick in the stomach if they see that food and would rather eat anything else. You cannot get me to eat carrots, like I'm sorry but that's not happening buddy. I don't care if they are baked or boiled, i refuse to put that shit in my mouth.

She was also on team order like Marina as she likes to keep things nice and tidy like with most autistic people. Not all but most.

A little tidbit i wanna add as well is that since Splatoon 2, Marie has been seen holding an parasol and for seemingly no reason. Some may say she holds it to seem more professional, however i think she has it around because she likes to hold it in her hands and use it to fidget with, much like Harmony with the Ultra Hand. You can see her spin it around when you stay around her for a little bit in Splatoon 3's story mode. Although I might be looking too deeply into this but i think it might be a cute little detail.

I find it really fantastic that Splatoon not only has good representations of autism, but it's also pretty diverse and shows different elements of the spectrum. Not every single aspect of the spectrum as there isn't an example of a high needs autistic character in Splatoon that I can think of unfortunately, but if you can think of a character who may be in the high needs category of the spectrum then let me know, however we got a pale skinny sea anemone who runs a general store and uses an Ultra Hand to fidget with, a tall black woman who's extremely passionate about machinery and technology, and a Japanese squid woman who would rather eat a Splattershot than a tomato. (Callie and Marie are based off of Japanese culture, look at their clothing and styles of music. If they were humans they would not be white women, sorry to break it to you bud.)

Before this ends i wanna say, if you disagree with me then that's fine. I get it. They aren't canonically confirmed to be on the autism spectrum and a lot of this is just speculation and observation. However don't be a fucking dick about it okay? Don't say that i don't know anything about autism and that I'm crazy and dumb. Don't do that shit. Seriously. I am allowed to look deeper into these characters and find relatability and comfort in them. Don't try to make me feel like a freak for this.

Anyways if i did get something wrong about autism let me know in a fair and polite way. I am human and I'm gonna make mistakes, but don't be a dickhead about it, k? Good. Have a goodnight or good day wherever you live.

[stubz]

Injuries and a ship invasion, no one dies

"Why do they let humans take care of our younglings? If it hadn't been for the coalition then it would've been another century till they realize our existence. Their senses have dulled to the point where its laughable that they are the dominating species of their planet. And lets not forget the fact that they're at constant war with each other over the most stupidest things, color of skin, where one lives, who they love, what they believe, etc."

"Calis stop it! Your being a xenophobe. And while some of that is true you should know by now that the humans care deeply for our children."

"I am simply being concerned parent who worries for their young's safety and well-being...we are in a dangerous area right now, the middle of a war zone, and it would make me feel safer if we had some others at the care centre till reinforcements arrive."

"Trust me my brightest, the humans will do everything they can to ensure the safety of our Dali...and knowing them they'll likely surprise you and live up to their reputation."

"...fine, fine, I apologize, you are right. The humans have surprised me so far, what's one more?"

.

..

...

....

"WHERE IS DALI?! WHERE IS MY YOUNGLING CAPTAIN!"

"Calis calm down! Your arm!"

"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN ENEMY FORCES HAVE INVADED OUR SHIP AND NONE OF US CAN FIND OUR YOUNG!!"

"Calis, your hurt and so is your partner. Think of Gala, they need you right now."

"...Gala is hurt because they were looking for Dali. They got shot because they were heading to the centre...I have to find Dali. For Gala, Captain."

"I'm sure that Kim and Max are doing everything they can to keep them safe."

"With all do respect Captain, how could 2 unarmed humans survive what our force couldn't."

"...I don't know but its probably going to be one hell of a story we'll be telling for the ages. Now go get your arm treated. That's an order."

.

..

...

....

"WE FOUND THEM!"

"CAPTAIN WE FOUND THE YOUNGLINGS!"

"WE NEED A CRANK AND SEND EVERY AVAILABLE MEDIC!"

"oh great stars please no...nonononono DALI!" the Delzah rushed forward, breaking through the search party, only to be stopped by their captain.

"Calis...you have to let them do their job. We, we just have to hope." he could not help the hitch in his breath. Hoping, praying, that his own child was okay underneath the wreckage that was once the youngling care centre.

They fight and thrash until eventually grief overtakes them. They collapse into the captain's arms wailing.

"...what hope do I have that my child is alive under all that rubble. Captain...the only hope I have is that they died quick and that they are with the stars now..."

"Oh Calis..." he sobs. He knows it. There was hardly a chance that anyone was still alive underneath there. Only the strongest younglings who were from a strong species may survive and his child was not one of those few. They were strong but his child was like him...a runt, the joke of the family. Too small, too weak, too soft. She was surely dead...why couldn't it have been him?

"MAPA!"

"PAPA!"

One by one, children emerge from an opening made in the rubble, and at the front of them was Dali and a small feline like child.

"my glorious star" flinging themself from the Captain Calis dragged themself to meet Dali who leaped into their Mapa's arms.

The captain was not too far behind, running to his daughter and cradling her close. Words were not exchanged but Calis could feel the vibrations coming from their purrs.

"See...I told you they would be waiting..."

last to emerge from the rubble was the humans, carried out on stretchers. Only one was conscious. Glass glittered from their skin, dirt and dust blended with vibrant red blood, staining their white bandages, and a rebar was poking out of the unconscious one's side.

"You...got everyone right?"

"Yes, human Max."

"Good...that's good..." and finally did they lose consciousness.

.

..

...

....

"Apparently they covered the windows and hid the kids in the storage room, putting them to the farthest corner while they formed a human wall in front of the door.

When those quiznaking bastards couldn't break down the door they rigged the centre with explosives. Lucky for us the humans personally requested that the storage room be made durable for the equivalent of their disasters on earth so it held up decently well."

"But how did they get so injured?"

"Decently well, meaning the room wasn't completely stable. Eventually the walls started to give and the humans had to improvise by becoming the new pillars. They took shifts until they both had to hold up the weight for what the kids guess to be 3 hours...imagine holding up all of that weight until you were on your hands and knees with rebars, broken glass, and debris piercing into your body."

"...Gala said that Human Max nearly flatlined and Human Kim needed 2 liters of blood."

"You seem confused."

"...Humans are impressive but how did they do all of that? They were already injured and yet managed to hold up a collapsed ceiling for hours until help arrived, I thought they were completely average and even weaker than us."

"Apparently when their loved ones, especially children, are in danger they tap into their more primal instincts. Allowing them to withstand a shot to the side, a slab of concrete to the head, and hours of keeping a ceiling from collapsing until they know everyone is safe.

Heard a story of a human who died only after he saw his kids was safe from a fire."

"Looks like Gala was right. Humans have surprised me once again."

[lazycats-stuff]

Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Oh, that sounds good. Yes... Also, 2.7k words and so sorry for taking so long to write this... Hope you enjoy. I changed it a little bit, so my apologies, but I got into my writing spirit lol.

Summary: (Y/N) is Spiderman. The fam doesn't know that.

Warnings: (Y/N)'s mom passes away, funeral, sad (Y/N), he loves his city, angst, running away, fighting with Green Goblin.

(Y/N) had a great life in New York. He was very happy in his city. He lived with his mom and everything was fine. Okay, he did get bitten by a radioactive spider and got cool powers with it. Did it cause some troubles? Oh yeah. Electricity was a bit problematic to control, but he managed.

Did he get grounded because of it? His mom sure thought so. His dad visited with the rest of his brothers every month. (Y/N) understood why he couldn't come more. Being a CEO and all that stuff, (Y/N) really understood. He didn't love Bruce any less. Bruce was involved in his life, which was nice.

He loved his brothers and father, more than anything in this world. Alfred was the best though. Whenever he came, he would bring his food and (Y/N) and his mom would enjoy it too, often asking for recipes. Or they would exchange recipes.

All of those were very fun times. And his time as Spiderman. He really loved it. He loved patrolling and helping the people and maybe get a hot dog from the stands that worked through the night. He loved it all. It was nice that his webs were natural and they, like mentioned before, they also came with electricity.

His enemies hated him, but (Y/N) loved being Spiderman. He loved what he represented in New York and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He is a New Yorker through and through.

But life decided to be a bitch and strike that luck and happiness.

(Y/N)'s mom passed away. She was hit by a drunk driver. The worst thing is, the driver survived. When Bruce got the news, he got into the car and drove to New York. (Y/N) was told just before Bruce came and (Y/N) felt his soul shatter.

He broke down in Bruce's arms, crying and screaming. It took him a while to calm down, but he couldn't stay alone. Bruce knew that and he knew that going back to Gotham was not an option now. At all. Bruce called Alfred and explained everything and told him that he would stay to arrange the funeral.

Alfred understood and the brother called (Y/N), wishing that they could be there. (Y/N) thanked them for it and then sat up all night, unable to sleep. Bruce tried to comfort him in the best way possible, but it was difficult. Bruce's former fling, (Y/N)'s mom, was the most important person to (Y/N). Without a doubt.

Bruce knew that he would have to bury her in New York, otherwise his son would have raised hell. Without a doubt. After funeral, (Y/N) would have to move to Gotham. Which is another problem on its own. Bruce didn't know that (Y/N) was Spiderman and (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce was Batman.

Match made in hell, so to say.

The funeral was held a few days after the incident and (Y/N) thought that New York cried with him. The sky was dark and the rain was falling. (Y/N) was torn. There were way to many people who were saying sorry and while he appreciated the care and worry, he just wanted to say goodbye on his own.

His brothers have stood it with him. (Y/N) didn't even have the courage to be next to the grave, while they lowered it, but Bruce held him hand through it, keeping him close to him during the entire process.

At the end, he found some strength and came closer, allowing the rain to soak him. It felt appropriate. When she was lowered, (Y/N) threw a rose in there and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath as they started putting dirt over her coffin and (Y/N) never felt so mad. Why did this happen to him? To him out of all people?!

Bruce recognized that look in (Y/N)'s eyes. He knew that rage, sadness and frustration in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to let go and have a new life in Gotham. But (Y/N) had to try. He had to put some effort.

" (Y/N), we have to go. " Bruce said gently as he shielded his son from the rain with an umbrella. (Y/N) kept looking as the coffin got buried under the dirt. He swallowed before nodding and following Bruce to the car.

" Why do I have to go to Gotham? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce sighed as he started driving.

" We have been over this. I have a company there and your brothers are there. I know you don't want to leave, I know that, but you have no choice. " Bruce explained as he drove and (Y/N) turned away from him, biting down on his tongue so that he wouldn't lash out against Bruce.

" I know you are not happy, but you will be happy in Gotham. "

" Sure. In a city ran by a clown and a bat. Sounds like heaven. " (Y/N) said sarcastically.

" It's actually a nice city once you live in it long enough. "

(Y/N) huffed, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to lash out at his father, he really didn't. His dad was doing something he needed and Bruce wasn't at fault.

It was the driver's fault.

But he was pissed and he just wanted to be alone. Bruce saw it and didn't say anything, driving back to Gotham. It was the most awkward drive Bruce has ever done in his life. The hour was quiet and once they parked in the yard of the manor, (Y/N) took a bag with his personal stuff, his Spiderman suit included, and made a beeline for his room.

He ran past everybody and they all looked at him with sad looks.

" Do you think he will be better soon? " Dick asked, glancing at Bruce.

" I don't know Dick. He is sensitive and he will need some time to process it. I don't think I can even introduce him to our line of work. He found justice, they got the driver. " Bruce said as he rubbed his chin and the boys had to agree to a certain agree.

" He just needs some time. The first few days are the toughest. He will get better as times passes. " Alfred said as he took one of the boxes out.

Those few days have passed and (Y/N) didn't really feel good. He didn't like the fact he is starting a new school year here, without his friends and a sense of familiarity. He would have to start a new, without... He cried a lot during the time and he just wore black. Alfred had to make sure he ate and Bruce was there to comfort him and make sure he is okay.

Another thing that was painful, alongside his mother's death was the fact that he couldn't be Spiderman. He couldn't go out, he couldn't save his fellow New Yorkers or chat with them. He saw the news talking about his absence and he wanted nothing more than to go back to New York.

Nothing more.

But... There is a problem called big brothers plus a dad.

They were always around, watching him. Always popping in his room to make sure he is okay and not hungry, knowing that eating wasn't easy. Everyone popped in to make sure he is okay. (Y/N) was sure they thought he would hurt himself somehow, but he wasn't doing that.

He would often sit down in his room, when he knew that his family was on patrol, he would take his suit out. He would watch the spider symbol, wishing he could be back in New York. Gotham was nothing compared to New York. New York was much better, still is better than this city. New York is alive, vibrant, full of colors.

And then you have Gotham.

But (Y/N) has had enough after 2 weeks. With a little bit sneaking around, he managed to buy a ticket, his suit underneath the normal clothes he was wearing. While his family was on patrol, he sneaked out and made his way to the station to leave. He was happy, but it was bitter sweet. It would remind him of the things he loved and yet... It would remind him of his mother.

He had actually had some money left for a few flowers to lay on her grave... (Y/N) put his head on the window, watching the scenery change. Left his phone at home so that they couldn't track him, so he spent his time looking out the window and stretching.

After a few hours, (Y/N) has arrived. He smiled as he saw his city. He took a deep breath in and walked around, just remembering the time in his city.

" My apologies New York. " (Y/N) mumbled as he started walking to the cemetery. It would be a long walk, but he had time. He really did. Once he came, the flower shop was open and he has paid with cash, making it difficult to track him. After getting a beautiful bouquet he walked to his mom's grave. He put them down and smiled...

Bittersweet beyond belief.

He kept knelt down on one knee, smiling at the gravestone. He smiled and wiped some of his tears away, not wanting to cry.

" Hey mom. I'm back. Dad wanted me to move, but I think I will stay here. " (Y/N) said as he got up and started walking to his apartment. He missed it, he really did. He could only hope that it's unlocked, but his neighbor had an extra key. He knew it.

And she loved him.

While (Y/N) was happy, the family wasn't really paying attention whether or not (Y/N) was in his room. They were thinking that he has slept. They couldn't have been more wrong about it. (Y/N) already had a whole night ahead of him as an advantage.

Alfred went to check and a few minutes later and he called out for Bruce in a panic. Everyone dropped the cutlery and ran upstairs to see if their butler was safe. Jason and Tim nearly tumbled over one another more than once. Damian jumped in first, ready to fight with the non existent intruder.

They were all shocked to see that there was no intruder. Another problem? There was no (Y/N). Jason checked the bathroom.

" Not in here. " He declared, closing the door.

Bruce wondered what the hell happened. Oh no. Where is he?

" Did anyone see him? " Bruce asked his sons, leaning on the wall.

" No... I thought he was in here. " Tim said as he looked out the window. " Where is he even? " Tim wondered. Bruce pondered for a moment.

" Lets go to the cave and check the cameras. " Bruce said as he pushed himself off of the wall. Everyone followed and soon, they were looking through the cameras.

They all paled when they saw that he went to the city. Bruce pulled all of the cameras he could and thanked God for facial recognition. He pulled it all to find (Y/N).

" Why did he escape? " Dick wondered out aloud. Was it the fact that they were checking on him too much? Was he smothered? Did they smother him?

" Shit. " Jason said next to Bruce as the two watched the screen. Everyone turned their heads to look at the screen. A train station. Bruce connected it.

" He went to New York. " Bruce said as he tracked (Y/N)'s phone.

" What the hell? " Tim wondered out loud.

Everyone frowned when the location turned out to be the manor. Everyone was now worried.

" He has to be in New York. He has to be. " Damian declared and everyone had to agree with it. They knew that (Y/N) coming here wasn't his choice and that he wanted to stay back in New York. Bruce couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, nobody could blame (Y/N) for trying to run to New York.

" He has an entire night as an advantage. " Damian said and everyone has agreed with him. That is one hell of an advantage.

" I'm not sure whether or not to be proud. " Bruce said, trying not to smile.

" A mixture of both. He passed the security. " Jason mumbled and Bruce chuckled.

" Yeah, I have to be a mixture of both. Lets do some more investigating and then lets go to New York at night. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.

(Y/N) has had fun during the day, but it seems that Green Goblin wasn't happy with the fact that he was gone out of their city. The fight has been going on for a while and (Y/N) was slowly getting exhausted. Ever so slowly.

(Y/N) knew that he couldn't lose his cool now. That's something that Green Goblin wanted him to do this entire fight. Green Goblin was taunting him and by God, (Y/N) was ready to kill. His wrists were hurting like never before.

He was ready to strike once more when he saw a familiar face. His dad and his brothers. Oh God. Were they all looking for him. They landed near him and (Y/N) swore that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He really thought so.

" Hey Spidey, you need help? " Dick, well, Nightwing asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders. " Could use some backup. " (Y/N) said, voice breathy.

" Arch nemesis? " Damian, well, Robin asked.

" Yup. "

" Sounds tough. " Dick said and (Y/N) got ready to strike once more. He saw an opening and took it.

(Y/N) was struck and he flew back onto the rooftop and something fell of as he landed. He couldn't pinpoint it, but every part of him screamed that something was wrong. He froze when he saw his father, covering them both with his big cape.

" (Y/N), why didn't you tell us? Is this why you didn't want to leave? " Bruce asked, glancing at his son, trying to see if he was injured.

" I... I didn't know how to... " (Y/N) admitted shyly, looking away from his dad.

" I'm not blaming you. But we have to talk about this later. We can't just leave it like this. Put on your mask and lets finish this. " Bruce said with a firm voice and (Y/N) nodded as he did so and with the help from Bruce, got up.

" Lets get the bastard. " (Y/N) said with so much determination and Bruce smiled proudly. He really is his son with that much determination.

The fight was tiring beyond belief, but the Batfamily was determined and persistent. And Green Goblin wasn't expecting the back up that (Y/N) has gotten out of nowhere. Soon, Green Goblin was taken into custody. Now it was all good. All good.

If you remember that (Y/N)'s family was still there, waiting to talk to him. He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to. By God, he wanted to go to sleep. But he knew that talk would happen eventually.

" Now, " Bruce started as he glanced at everyone. " I'm not mad you, but... You could have told us. We told you. " (Y/N) tried to say something, but Bruce stopped him. " Now, what happened happened. However, you can use your talents back in Gotham. "

(Y/N) shifted on his feet, nervous about it.

" No need to worry (Y/N). " Jason started, hands on his hips. " NYPD is more capable than GCPD. "

Everyone laughed at it. To some extent it's true, but (Y/N) wasn't convinced.

" You don't have to lose your Spider symbol. You can keep being Spiderman. You can be a spider and the rest can be birds. " Bruce said as he put his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.

" It's difficult to leave my city behind. " (Y/N) admitted and Bruce nodded in sympathy. The brothers hugged their brother, hugging him tightly.

They all were saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't understand. But he knew that they were all saying something positive.

" Now, lets go home and get you situated. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just looked at the sun.

" It weird to see you guys in this time of the day. " (Y/N) mumbled as he was led to the Batmobile. Everyone laughed at that. It was true. He really didn't want to leave New York city, but he knew that he could help them in Gotham.

He knew it would work out in the end.

[emloafs]

ep by ep thoughts (ck s6ep5)

my live thoughts from watching part one of cobra kai season 6. this ep is where shit got real in my opinion. spoilers below!!!!!

Ep5:

Stop manipulating tory, kreese!!!!!! She deserves friends!!!!!!! Get out of her head!!!!!!!

Im so uncomfortable

AISHA MENTION??? HOLY SHIT HELL YEAH

Dem didn’t tell Eli he got into MIT :(((( Dads stop fighting pls 

Oh tory really needs this tournament doesn’t she

I hate the power couples going head to head im over it like genuinely I am also over Daniel and Johnny bickering but its fine

Tbh not enough Miguel storyline so far I miss my baby

MIGGY GOT DEFERRED NOOOOOOO

WHAT THHE FUCK TORYS MOM 

OH IM NOT FUCKING OKAY

Peyton lists acting just brought tears to me eyes I feel sick fuck the writers 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck the writers

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK the writers

Im so fucking heartbroken

Peyton list’s acting is so impressive

I hope that when everyone realizes the SHIT that tory is going through they realize their petty karate bullshit is STUPID

Tory flashback has me sobbing fr

“I am your partner” actual line from Daniel to Johnny

Tory is either not showing up or she’s murdering whoever stands in her way

I am afraid she may go back to kreese because she’s hurting

Kiaz fight choreo is VERYY good

TORY NOOOO my baby

Robby need a win tbh but Miguel is crying  so what am I supposed to do with that

Oh im sick to my stomach about samtory fight

Genuinely no more notes because im speechless

This is Peytons season.

Everyone else go home. She’s acting circles around you. 

LETS GO ELI but im fucking heartbroken about tory she’s gonna end up with fuckinng kreese again

ELI LOOKING UP TO DEMETRI AND DEMETRI GIVING HIM THE COLD SHOULDER I CAN’T DO THIS I NEED THEM LIKE WATER

Like I won. dem and Eli are both going but at WHAT COST

I feel like sam and robby as captains low key are so fitting because miyagi do started with them

Those headbands are ugly… sorry someone had to say it

Miyagi fought in an international karate tournament? Are we for real? That doesn’t seem like him to meeeee

OH SHIT BARCELONA NOW???????

Demetri put away your shoulders in that slutty gi jesus fucking christ 

Robby man bun returns feels full circle

The venue is smaller than I imagined…..?

Oh shit cobra kai is back baby and they’re hot (not kreese vomit)

USA looks like a bunch of idiots just saying

OH SHIT TORY

I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT BABYGIRL IK YOURE HURTING

Cobra kai never dies

What a betrayal (that I absolutely saw coming) 

so ive actually died now and i'll be thinking about this for the next 3-5 business days (4 months until pt 2)

seriously someone hold me. i gotta rewatch this to process it all.

[kissagii]

Yo! I have a doozy of a request >:)

Okay mha, aizawa, with an adult son/daughter (idk the gender neutral term. Child?? I think it's child?) Who is a hero overseas and one day DIES.

Aizawa hears it some how, goes into grieving, and then...

Reader just shows up... in his house... raiding his fridge (but make it funny)

It turns out reader had to fake their death to go undercover to kick some villans butt and they needed to lay low for a while so they came back home.

Comfort angst-turned Crack!

got it! i loved this concept, it's so amazing <3 <3 <3

i don't think i went crazy enough with the comedy because for some reason i felt like a more wholesome route would work better

safe and sound

aizawa x child!reader ; wc. 0.9k

cw: cursing, reader is presumed dead, it's a lil graphic, not proofread

There were times when Aizawa Shota regretted becoming a father. This was one of them. He knew that his profession put his child in danger of losing a parent at any moment, but he promised himself every day that he would return home safely for their sake. It was what kept him going. But what he had never expected was that he would be the one to lose someone so dear to his heart in a hero mission.

Aizawa was in the middle of a nap when Kaminari shouted the news. “OH MY GOD, THE X-TEAM VANISHED!”

Aizawa knew that team all too well: it was your team.

“Give me that,” He muttered, taking Kaminari’s phone from his hand and skimming through the article. 

X-Team… heroes sent abroad… villain ambush… notorious killers… location unknown… heroes vanished… presumed dead. He reread those last few words. “All heroes presumed dead.” It couldn’t be - it just couldn’t. You had to be alive… you had to.

In that moment, as he sobbed on the floor of his classroom, Aizawa Shota wished he had never encouraged you to be a hero, never let you join the agency known for taking on the most brutal internatonal missions, never taken in a child with such immense potential only for that potential to be cut short in such a terrible accident.

Weeks of searching were to no avail. Try as they might, international heroes could find nothing regarding the X-Team’s location, not a piece of clothing, or a message, or a villain that might spill. Until they found the bodies. Three of them, young adults, disfigured beyond identifiability. But one of them lined up with you - same height, build, gender, age… and clearly the victim of the villains you were chasing. For all Aizawa knew, it was you.

Aizawa Shota is a tired man. He always has been. But weeks of sleepless nights, long days of worrying, and the nightmares… it took a toll on him. He was barely functioning as a teacher and as a hero. Only pure exhaustion would make him sleep, and what little rest he got would never last. So it was no surprise when he, having not slept in days, hallucinated a person in his house.

Illuminated only by the light of the fridge (which, he noticed, had been largely emptied of its contents), the imaginary person turned to him and waved, mouth full of food.

“‘Ello!” They said, grinning. Aizawa knew that voice. That was your voice.

“Oh god… I’m losing it,” He muttered to himself, “I’m fucking hallucinating.”

“But you’re not though? Waittt are there two of me? Or a shadow demon in the corner? HI SHADOW DEMON!!” 

Perhaps it really was you - his child, the little creature he raised from nothing, his reason for living and the most amazing person in his life. 

“Ah, shit, you probably think I’m dead, don’t you? Long story short it was a whole scheme, our cover got blown so we had to hide for a while, the villains wanted to make it look like they killed us, we got in undercover with some reinforcements and they took forever to get to us, then all of a sudden we get out of our hidey hole and everyone thinks we’re dead? I dunno, it was pretty wild though. Sorry for spookin’ you… but we got the job done so it’s fine, right?”

Your father collapsed into your arms. Your very solid, very real, very alive arms. For weeks it had seemed hopeless, like he’d truly lost you. But all that time… all that time you were working diligently, making the best of your situation, the dedicated child he loved so much. Home at last, safe.

“Dad? Daaaaad. There’s really no need to cry, I’m fine! Yeah it was messy, but hey, it all turned out fine! It always does, doesn’t it?” Though you complained, you missed your father. Two months away from home, one of which was spent cut off from most of the world, took a toll on you too.

“Kiddo… you can’t just scare me like that,” Whatever strength he had left was put entirely into the rib-cracking embrace he gave you, tears soaking into your shirt, “I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you.”

“Hey dad, do you remember what you told me when I was little?” He nodded. “How I wasn’t allowed to worry about you when you went on missions because you’d always find a way back to me? Well, now that I’ve gone pro, I think it’s time that bargain went both ways. Because our silly little family - Auntie Kamaya, Uncle Yamada, those other kids you adopted from UA, you, and me - we’ll stick together.”

Aizawa let go of you, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders and looking into your eyes, “Yeah… I’ll try not to worry. Now I’m going to sleep… and you’d better have the fridge reorganized by the time I wake up.”

“Reorganized, restocked, and breakfast on the table. For all the stress I caused you,” You promised as he trudged to his room. Now, there was only one issue between you and seet, sweet sleep - how the hell were you going to get groceries to make breakfast if the whole country thought you were dead???

©king-of-dreamers 2022

[the-whispers-of-death]

The Middle: The Creation of Simon "Ghost" Riley

The Beginning, Part 1 of The Middle, Part 2 of The Middle, Part 3 of The Middle CW: Allusions to Simon "Ghost" Riley's backstory but nothing is written graphically. The most yearny/romantic part is really when he's at his family's graves, so feel free to skip down to it if need be.

**

When Life, your partner in balancing out the universe, told you after aeons together in the realm where only you two resided that he was going to take on a mortal form and live among the mortals, you were confused. You didn't understand why he wanted to live among the mortals, but you supposed that his love of creation and what he had created drove him to this decision and as Death, you were never going to understand it.

So you watched with a heavy heart that you concealed as he sent his soul down into a fetus that was still developing in its mother's womb, having not yet developed into a soul which was why his could reside in the developing form. You watched as that fetus grew into a baby, into Life's new form.

He was born as Simon Riley, the firstborn of what would be two sons.

As years went by, you watched every horrid moment of Simon's childhood, unable to interfere and Simon refused to let the mortal form go. Every time you stood in the shadows and he was able to speak, he told you that suffering was something every mortal experienced, the form of suffering just changed from mortal to mortal.

So you watched, and watched. It was all you could do, every time Mr. Riley was a horrible person to his wife and sons, you could not kill him. You were only meant to guide the souls of the dead to the realms of the dead and ensure they stayed there.

Life—Simon—was the one who could kill beings, mortal or immortal, but even then, he couldn't kill willy nilly. It had to be timed most of the time, so for every soul that died, a new one was created. He saw who could die when and where without unbalancing the universe, and he made sure to tell you every time you felt like killing his father that the time wasn't right.

More years passed by, Simon eventually feeling a calling to the military and enlisting when he was in his twenties. He found that being in the military helped immensely with his duties as Life, able to protect those who weren't yet to die and also able to send the fatal blow to those that were destined to die at that moment. Everything seemed fine and well.

Until Roba.

Your heart hurt to see Simon's mortal form be broken and reset in the most painful ways, ways that would surely kill someone who wasn't actually a powerful being. You were fortunate—yet also unfortunate—that you didn't have to be there all the time while Simon was with Roba.

You were pulled away every so often to guide souls that died to their afterlives, four of them unfortunately being Simon's mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. Since you knew he held sentiments for all of them, you took even extra care with their souls.

Simon eventually escaped Roba's clutches, though with it guaranteeing him to be seen as legally dead, and after he hunted down everyone in the organization, he finally found out what happened to his family.

He was standing in front of their graves, bitter and a shell of the mortal man everyone knew. But he was still Life, you could still feel the bright power signature that only you and the celestial beings could detect.

"You'll stay with me, won't you?" Simon asked when he felt your own power signature in the shadows, his voice—for a lack of a better word—sounded lifeless. His brown eyes stared blankly at the graves, he probably wouldn't be okay for a while.

You shifted on your feet until the mortal form you had taken on for the day could be seen from the shadows just a little bit. You nodded and said, "We've spent aeons together, Life. I'm here with you for the rest of time." You paused. "I'm only sorry I couldn't stop what was happening."

Simon would've laughed or smiled if he had the energy to do so because you were always so endearing to him. "Don't be sorry. It was meant to happen."

Another thing that Simon could see besides who was meant to die and when, was that he could see what events could be changed and what events not even him could interfere with.

"Does this mean you're keeping this mortal form?" You asked, frowning at the thought.

Didn't he already see enough to lose his sense of love for creation and life? How much more suffering could he take? How much more suffering could you take to see him in?

It was selfish, you knew it. But your soul yearned for him. It was why you spent most of your time watching him, you needed his presence, needed to feel his power signature settling besides yours. Every time you were pulled away to guide dead souls, you ached to return to him.

You longed for the days when you two would enjoy being in your home realm together, just the two of you.

"Death," he said, pulling you away from your thoughts. He turned his head to the side to lock eyes with you. "Know that I relish being in your presence too, but I cannot abandon this life. It's not Simon "Ghost" Riley's time yet, which is why I want you to still be by my side. With you by my side as always, I can see a future in which I can heal."

You nodded, understanding him. There was no doubt in your mind that you'd stay with him even if it meant being in the shadows for most of the days. You couldn't fathom abandoning him.

Your mind processed what he said. "Ghost?" You had never heard him being referred to such, but it seemed to be something the military gave him.

Ghost nodded. "It's my callsign, and I quite like it. Simon Riley is dead in the eyes of the law. Ghost... Ghost is all that's currently left."

"I see... Ghost," you replied, getting used to calling him "Ghost". You called him by whatever name he preferred.

"Perhaps, while you watch me from the shadows, you can think upon fully joining me in the mortal realm. You could finally have a constant mortal form."

"Don't get any ideas, Ghost."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Six)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: ANGSTY chapter ahead. swearing, frustrations of amnesia, detailed descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, mentions of blood, mentions of child abduction, lots of crying, confrontation, allusions to infidelity within marriage, feelings of betrayal, mention of suicide/death, obvious alcoholism, umm I think that’s it.

a/n: happy valentines day💕 (I haven’t slept yet so its still vday for me hehe) this is not a romantic chapter at all but I hope you still enjoy it. Thanks for those who have been patiently waiting for this chapter since ive been dealing with a lot lately. Well, I hope you guys enjoy and  please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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

Generally speaking, light can serve as a symbol of life.

When there is light, it touches and beautifully blinds with bright, shimmering hope. But for you, your eyes have cast any ray of shining light away. And your entire view has been enveloped in the arms of darkness.

If light is a symbol of life but you and your soul are being carried on a ferry across the river of Styx towards the underworld…then is it safe to assume you are no longer living?

Have you truly died on the inside?

And this is your stygian reality?

Because now, in your world, light no longer exists.

You’re thankful for those people who know how to naturally calm others down. Those people who remain collected during a crisis. Those people who can snap someone out of there demise even when they’re rattled as well. Those people who remind you to breathe even when they’ve forgotten.

Well, Subin is not one of those people.

“He knows we’re coming, right?” Subin aggressively tries to exit the parking lot of the market, her eyes going everywhere yet you aren’t so sure she’s even seeing properly. 

“I—I talked to the nurse, s-she said to come now. The doctor should be free…fuck, I hope.” You look out the window, your head spinning while your chest grows tighter and tighter. 

Breathing with calm, even breaths is hard. 

It’s even harder because Subin is tense, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as she tries to catch her own breath.

She’s always been the type to cry when others cry. Panic when other’s panic. So on and so forth.

You try your hardest to take a breath before speaking, “Can you drive?” You rest the side of your head against the window, your vision looking blurrier and darker. “J-Just pull ov—”

“—Shit, I’m so sorry, y/n.” Subin’s voice shakes, her eyes trying so hard to stay focused on the road. “I’m okay. I’m okay. You’re okay?” She quickly glances at you, “You’re okay, right?”

You rest your palm against your rapid heart, eyes squeezing shut at the pain and discomfort your chest is feeling. You need to breathe. Relax. 

“I-I’m fine.” You say as composed as you possibly can. “Water? Water? Do you…do you have water in here…?” You tiredly lean your head back, chest rising and falling quickly. “I feel sick.”

“Sick?” Subin clears her throat, though she’s panicking herself, she tries to get her shit together. “Like how?” She glances at you again, “I think there’s a bag behind your seat. Throw up in it if you need to….”

“Water, Subin.” You feel your throat closing in on you, “Do you have—”

“—Um,” Subin keeps one hand on the steering wheel while the other frantically feels the sides and below her car seat. “I think there’s a bottle…” She continues to search, the car slightly swerving but you hardly notice. “Here!”

You manage to open your eyes, sudden relief filling your veins when you see a half empty bottle of water. Subin pushes it towards you before she’s urging you to have some.

“Drink slowly.” She keeps a worried eye on you while driving as quickly as she can to the hospital. 

The moment water begins trickling down your throat, you feel the dizziness that’s consumed you start to subside.

With half of that bottle of water in your system, your vision is less blurry and less dark.

Literally speaking, darkness doesn’t have a veil over your eyes any longer.

But figuratively speaking, not even an ounce of light shines in your world at all.

You still can’t breathe. Because how could you?

How could you with the knowledge you currently have?

You’re convinced you’re having a heart attack…Doctor Lee, however, isn’t convinced about that.

“You’re just panicking.” He tells you softly, his eyes trained on your expressions. “It’s okay. This is completely normal, y/n.”

You quickly shake your head, refusing to accept that it’s only your emotions here that are the problem.

“This is normal…” He reminds you again, a gentle hand patting your back. “Once you accept that this is normal, it’ll get easier to control it. You’re overwhelmed and that’s okay.”

“I-I can’t breathe.” You manage to tell him, fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt. You wish you could tear off your clothes, your skin, all the feelings that bombard you.

“You can breathe.” Doctor Lee brings his hand towards his own body, he motions upward now with both hands as he urges you to inhale deeply. “You’re breathing right now. You’ve been breathing this whole time…even when it was hard, you’re still breathing, y/n.”

He’s…right. Since the market, since the car, since waiting for Doctor Lee to show up in this tiny room—you’ve been breathing the entire time.

You try to nod, swallowing hard but it hurts. 

Actually, it seems the physical pain is disappearing while emotional pain begins to sink it’s teeth into you. Pain is pain, you realize. 

“Good,” Doctor Lee keeps his focus on you, “Can you give me a deep breath?”

You nod, trying your hardest to inhale a breath but it’s sharp and poisoned.

Your eyes slam shut, your entire body closing in on itself. 

“Try to let go of a long breath for me,” Doctor Lee’s voice is soothing, “Feel everything. Gather all of it…and let it go with a long, long breath. Can you do that?”

Feel everything and let it go? How could you do that?

“I can’t.” You shake your head, eyes still slammed shut. “I just can’t.”

“You can.” He tells you, voice still calm. “I’m not asking you to sort through all your emotions right now and just let them go. No,” Doctor Lee sighs out for a moment before he’s pulling his chair out right in front of you and taking a seat. “I’m just asking you to recognize you have them and release them for a moment. That way you can gain more strength for when you eventually have to grab them again. You can’t get stronger if the panic you feel burdens you, y/n. Let’s breathe…” 

You open your teary eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as harsh breaths make your entire body grow weaker. Doctor Lee looks pleased just at the fact you’ve opened your eyes. He nods his head with a tender smile before he starts breathing with you. In and out. Slow and rest assuring. 

You aren’t sure how long it takes for you to have calm breaths again.

Doctor Lee doesn’t rush you. He gives you time and space to collect yourself. He’s aware that you are here because some memories have flooded your brain. And he’s aware that it had you drowning. He has told you countless times to reach out to him the moment something like this begins. You guess he anticipated this kind of reaction. 

“Just in case, I still want to run some tests. I’ll get nurse Choi to do labs.” Doctor Lee is scribbling onto his clipboard, but his eyes are still on you. “I know today has been scary for you but I’m sure your results will be fine. It’s always better to be a little more precautious, don’t you think?”

Your limbs are weak, draped over this uncomfortable chair as you give Doctor Lee a noncommittal nod. All of your energy has been drained from your body. Leaving you weak and helpless.

Doctor Lee’s pen comes to a slow stop, his lips turning down as he eyes you. “Hey,” He calls out slowly, your eyes barely lifting to him. “I’m afraid it’s going to be like this…overwhelming. Scary. Emotionally, physically draining.”

You stare at him with empty eyes.

“But this is a good sign, y/n….” He says and you can tell he isn’t necessarily happy to say it. “Your memories are in there and they’re going to start leaking out…and it won’t always be easy.”

You muster what little energy you have to scoff to yourself, “No kidding.”

“It just…it means that the chances of all your memory returning is a lot greater. They can all return to you.” He says much softer. You don’t respond though, making Doctor Lee sigh out in defeat before he’s placing the clipboard down. “This first time will probably be the hardest. It’s the first time you’re receiving new information.”

Your eyes meet his when he says that. Your brows slowly pull together as you think about it. “Well, kind of.” You admit to him. “I remembered a cat…” the space between your eyebrows creases further as you try to make things make sense in your head. “Actually…I have a question.”

Doctor Lee nods immediately, his attentive eyes on you. “What is it?”

“Is it possible to remember some things but not others?” You ask, but shake your head as soon as you ask it. “I mean…for example, I remember a cat that I shouldn’t remember. I only remember the cat though. I don’t remember anything else about the timeline of this cats life. You know, the things happening around this cat.”

Doctor Lee furrow his own brows, trying his best to make sense of what you’re asking.

You try to explain further, “I remember this cat. But I don’t remember that at the same time as this cat, I was also married.”

It seems it finally clicks, his mouth falling a little open as he nods. “I understand.”

“It’s just…the thing I remembered today…I remember certain details but there’s so much still missing.” You pause, the gloomy pressure once again in your chest but you take a deep breath. “Is it…” You meet Doctors Lee’s gaze again. “Is it possible that my brain blocked out an entire person in my memory? But I…” You can feel the tightness returning. “I….I have memory of this person existing within things but I don’t have actualrecollection of this per—person.” 

You shouldn’t feel ashamed the moment you see Doctor Lee’s eyes fill with pity.

“You know,” He clears his throat, blinking away the pity he feels for you. “The brain is truly such a complex thing. Your memories might come to you with no warning and things might not always make sense. Eventually, you might be able to piece some together. And yeah, I’d say it’s entirely possible not to have all the knowing details when you remember an event.”

“Then—”

“—But don’t be discouraged that things will always stay that way. Like you’re going to live your life solving some puzzle.”

Your eyes sting the moment he says that. You’re realizing how true that feels for you…like you’re just a player apart of some game. But you aren’t even sure you have all the puzzle pieces to even play. 

“As overwhelming as it is, this is a good sign. Your memories will most likely return. And maybe even soon.”

You realize he’s saying this as if it’s a positive. 

But you aren’t so sure that you even want them to return anymore.

“It might take Nurse Choi a little while to get your labs started…she’s doing some rounds right now.” Doctor Lee takes a look at his watch, “But I can grab your friend from the waiting room if you’d like me to? You’d be less bored waiting in here.” He smiles.

Though you cannot return his smile, you agree.

~

You know Subin is in this tiny room with you. You watched when one of the nurses brought her in. But even still, you jump in your chair when she calls out for you. Her worried eyes glued to you but you’ve barely noticed. Too busy sorting through the things you’ve seen in your head.

“Are you…” Subin’s voice is delicate over the harsh and rough thumping of your heartbeat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You are okay. Because you weren’t experiencing a heart attack.

But are you okay? No, not at all.

You keep staring at nothing and Subin can do nothing but worry in the chair next to you. Her eyes anxiously darting around while you tap your foot against the floor impatiently. 

“y/n…” Subin says your name softly, her concern overflowing. “You—”

“—Exactly.” You give a curt nod, “They must be real.”

Subin frowns when she realizes you aren’t listening to her.

“They have to be real because…” You tear your gaze away from the abyss and bore your eyes into Subin’s. “She said my name, Subin.”

Subin tilts her head, gears working in her head but her confusion only grows. “What?”

“I just…” You drop your eyes back to the floor, focusing on nothing again. “I keep thinking that maybe my brain is making up the things I saw in my head.” You say quietly, your words feeling heavy on your tongue. “It wouldn’t be a first time…” You try to reason, more to yourself. You recall the boat, the lake, the scream, the shadow…what was real and what wasn’t? “I keep trying to think that my brain is just throwing out theories again.”

Subin shifts in the uncomfortable chair, “What…what do you mean?”

You sigh, a hand rubbing at your face tiredly. “I’m thinking of reasons.”

“Reasons?”

You drop your hand to your lap, an uneasy expression falling over your face as you glance at your friend. “A reason not to hate Jungkook.” 

Subin’s eyebrows immediately pinch together, “W-Why?”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to take a deep breath. You hate that your heart feels miserable in your body right now. It’s screaming and it’s crying. Your heart’s loud, pathetic sobs are bouncing off the walls of your ribcage and you don’t know what to do to put it to rest. 

“I have nothing.” You whisper. A heavy feeling begins clinging to you like a cloak you cannot shrug off. “I have no excuses for him.” Your voice cracks, eyes still closed. “I know why I blame him for Haru and I know why we divorced.”

“What? Why?” Subin is suddenly more alert. You hear the way her chair screeches across the tile as she brings herself closer to you. “Are you sure? What…what is it?”

You finally open your eyes, head tilted back as you stare up at the ceiling now. “Nabi.”

It’s silent for a moment. You wonder if Subin heard you or not so you finally turn your head to face her but she looks even more confused.

“Nabi?” She finally gets the name out in question. She tries to think about it but after a moment she gives up. “Who’s that?”

“The girl from that café you like.” You tell her, “She was our server the first time we went together.” 

Subin sits back in her chair, her brain trying to understand what you’re saying. “Okay…a girl from the café is why—”

“—I knew I knew her.” You cut her off, eyes going back to nothing as you focus on Nabi. “She was so familiar and I had no clue why. But she said we didn’t know each other. And I am almost so certain she never heard my name.”

Subin shakes her head, leaning towards you. “And then what?”

“Then I ran into her at the store and I saw so many things.” You get the words out quickly and stop just as fast. You saw a lot of things. Too many things. “I…” You try to speak again but your throat is burning and you heart is crying again.

“You think she had something to do with Haru?” Subin asks you, concern clear in her voice. 

“I…” You pause again. Your chest is feeling tight all over again but you can’t risk losing your ability to breathe now. “She also has to do with my failing marriage.” You keep your eyes low.

“Your marr…” Subin’s words get quieter before her hand goes to your shoulder, “Are you saying that Jungkook knows her?”

You scoff, trying your best to remain calm. But your voice betrays you, “Considering he was cheating on me with her then yeah, I-I would say so.” 

You’re startled when Subin is standing from her chair, concerned eyes forcing themselves to you, “Woah, woah. You don’t really think…” She shakes her head, rejecting the entire idea. “No, you are not saying Jungkook—”

“—I don’t want to be saying that, Subin.” You snap at her, your eyes growing watery as your voice shakes. “But that’s what I’ve—I’ve seen. M-my brain showed me so much and that’s why I…why I keep thinking maybe they aren’t actual memories. That I don’t actually know her.” You feel you are starting to lose control again, your breaths coming out faster. “But Subin,” Your face twists and your heartache is seen. “She said my name. She knows my name. She knows who I am.” 

Subin takes a seat again, unsure of what to say.

“If we know each other…then it means maybe what I saw was…” You swallow hard but not choking on your words is fucking hard. “It was m-maybe real then.”

“But I mean…are you really sure though?” Subin rests a hand over your shoulder. “I’m sorry but…is what you’re seeing…you know, reliable?”

You feel yourself grow weak and small in this chair. Your body slumping over and slightly sliding down as you try to think of a proper response.

“I mean,” Subin’s fingers give you a comforting squeeze, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t trust what you’ve seen…but it’s a tricky situation.”

You know you are dying inside. Truly, even if a flickering light that might have been keeping you alive until this moment has shut off. Because you wish you could agree with her and let that thought alone comfort you. But again, you aren’t ignorant. And you won’t start now.

“No, they’re memories.” You tell her, eyes on the ground. “I know they are. I feel them.”

Subin’s hand drops from your shoulder, a sad and soft ‘oh’ spills quietly from her mouth. 

You try to straighten up in the chair, letting a deep sigh roll off your body. “But until I talk to Jungkook…I can’t really confirm it. Even though I know. I need to talk to him.”

“Can I…” Subin scoots her chair closer to you again, the legs pushed against the legs of your chair. “Can I ask what you saw? Why you think that…that Jungkook was having an affair? And what does it…” She softly trails off, her voice clearly unsure.

“And what it has to do with Haru?” You finally face your friend with sad, blood shot eyes. “He was with herwhen Haru was supposed to get p-picked up.” You continue to stare at Subin, her heart breaking when she sees how you try to hold back tears. “Isn’t it crazy that I know that? That I know about Haru? But I don’t fucking…” You stop when your throat burns too much, words refusing to leave your mouth. You fight through it regardless and finish what you are saying with broken words and a broken heart. “B-But I don’t f-fucking know him?”  

Subin eyes you with pity and you’re sure you’ve received this all before.

“I remember seeing them together. Multiple o-occasions.” You admit to your friend, voice shaky. “It’s hard to tell though…from my memory if it was in person or pictures, videos, I don’t know. I know I confronted him and he just…” Your expression twists miserably. “He could n-never prove to me that my assumptions weren’t—weren’t right.”

“But that doesn’t me—”

“—M-Motel rooms…so many f-fucking secrets, Subin.” You finally properly choke on your words because of a quiet sob in your throat. “A pregnancy test?”

“A what?” Subin’s face falls, “A preg—no, maybe you—”

“As much as I want to believe Jungkook w-wouldn’t…” You slam your eyes shut and finally, several warm tears manage to fall from your closed lids. “But there is so much evidence against him and he could n-never fucking prove...”

“Okay, okay.” Subin’s sweet voice turns even more soothing, her hand returning to your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, y/n.” She whispers, “Seriously…I wish this wasn’t…”

“No,” You straighten up again, your hands desperately wiping at your face. “I won’t mourn y-yet when I haven’t talked to Jungkook.” 

Because somehow…even with your bones screaming the truth at you.

You still want to believe in him.

At least until you are forced not to.

~~~

Subin parks right in front of your house, her worried eyes going between you and Jungkook’s car that is also parked here. 

“We left for the grocery store and came back emptyhanded…” Subin nibbles her lips, her concern growing. “What if he’s like ‘why don’t you have my chips?’ or something…” 

You slowly turn your head to eye Subin, eyes narrowing at her before you deadpan, “Then I’ll just ask him why he cheated on me.” 

Subin’s mouth immediately falls open.

“Or something.” You say before unbuckling your seatbelt. “Anyway, thanks for taking me to the hospital…might end up there again,” You glance out the window towards your home. “Depending how this conversation goes…” 

“y/n…” Subin’s hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you from opening the passenger door to get out, “I just…want to say again how sorry I feel…” Her hand slowly drops when she notices your distant gaze and then she quietly clears her throat. “I hope it’s not what you think but regardless…I’m here for you.”

You finally meet her eye and you can see her sincerity but the best you can do for her right now is give her a small nod of appreciation before you’re opening the door. 

And even though the car door feels heavier than you recall, you still get it open. But your body almost refuses to move. Once again, your brain is sending signals. Telling your body not to go in there. Because you won’t like it. Your brain, mocking you again. Keeping secrets from you because it’s playing some kind of sick and twisted game. 

You’d think your brain was helping you, because of all the signals, but you know that isn’t the case. You know it’s just trying to get a scare out of you because why else would it keep your memories away if not to play with you?

“Hey,” Subin calls out softly, “You can do this…”

And she’s right. You can.

~

Walking through your front door, you have to keep reminding yourself silently over and over to stay strong. Though the urge to break down, falling to the floor while misery consumes you wholly is strong but you don’t. Because you can’t. It would be a bit premature to have the full on meltdown your body is begging for because you still need to face Jungkook.

The moment you close the front door and begin slipping your shoes off, your nose is suddenly invaded with a savory aroma. You glance up, eyes in the direction of the kitchen when you finally realize Jungkook must be cooking. It smells good, you guess. But no matter what is cooking in the kitchen, it’s not good enough to take away any of the pain you are currently feeling.

“y/n?” You hear your name being called. Jungkook’s voice is one you’re used to, one you find comfort in, one you love—so why did you flinch? Why is your body warning you? Signals from your brain again? That fucking dickhead brain of yours. You stand up straight again, eyes still in the direction of the kitchen when you try to take one long, deep breath. 

“y/n!” You flinch again. Frozen in your spot, unable to make your feet mood forward. You stare at the wall ahead and anticipate Jungkook turning the corner and seeing you. You anticipate seeing his face and you anticipate the instant dread you will feel upon seeing him. 

“y/n!” He sings your name cutely this time. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You finally let out an incredibly shallow breath because Jungkook finally appears from the kitchen, his face lit up in excitement when he meets your eye. 

“Hey!” He walks towards you, his hand sliding across the top of the sofa as he gets closer, his eyes glancing around. “Subin in the bathroom or something?”

You need to breathe.

“—Well, since you’re making me my favorite homemade cookies,” He continues chatting with a grin, excited glint so obvious in his eyes. “Which are a dessert. I figured I could make dinner.” He turns to look towards the kitchen, sheepish expression on his face. “I’ve made this dish a hundred times but…” He turns to meet your eye again, his hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck, “Only after we were married. So it will be new for you. But um,” He looks down, sheepish smile still on his face. “It’s actually Haru’s favorite.” 

You haven’t moved a single muscle. 

You haven’t said a word.

You have barely had an audible breath.

Still, Jungkook looks happy in his own world when he brings up your son.

Your son that you can’t even remember. 

“I figure I could share some more stories tonight…about us, Haru…” Jungkook keep his eyes on his feet, still scratching the back of his neck. Almost looking shy. “Well, of course if you think you c…could…” Jungkook trails off when he finally lifts his eyes towards you but he isn’t met with same you that left for the store a few hours ago. He’s met with a you that he almost recognizes. Like he’s seen this expression before. On the you, that only he really knows.

“y/n?” His brows slightly pinch together, confusion draping over his features. “Are you…” He glances around again, “Where’s Subin? And where’s the things from the store?” 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You didn’t realize you were capable of being a coward.

You want to move your feet. You want to open your mouth to speak. Hell, you want to blink. But you aren’t capable of anything. Except being a fucking coward. 

Because you are afraid. You’re terrified. For more reasons than you can count. 

You’re imprisoned, once again.

“Hey,” Jungkook studies your face, his concern evident. “What’s going on?” 

Feeling a bit hesitant, Jungkook still walks closer to you. His concern only growing because you still don’t move, you still don’t make a sound, you still stare at him with wide eyes. 

You stare at him and you only have one repeated thought that wanders around in your head. How easy would it be? How easy would it be to live ignorantly? The thing you have always refused to do. How easy would it be? How easy would it be to pretend your ‘memories’ are just theories that you brain is throwing out for fun? How easy to only trust Jungkook. And not yourself. 

“y/n…” Jungkook’s eyes fill with worry. “Are you…” He lifts a hand towards you and you watch as it rises towards your face but your entire body jolts when you hear a loud slapping sound. Your dry lips finally part and you’re blinking repeatedly. You shoot your eyes to Jungkook’s face, only to see his expression completely twisted. 

He stands frozen in front of you, hand still hangs in the air as his eyebrows pull together and his jaw hangs slack. 

Your eyes go from his face to his hand when you lower your eyes to stare at your own hand.

You slapped his hand away. 

Your brain sent signals to your body and that was the result.

So, no. To answer your question—it wouldn’t be fucking easy.

You both stand here, shocked by your own action. 

Jungkook’s confusion only grows deeper, his hand slowly lowering to his side again when he takes a small step back. “Oh.” He says softly, the hurt is in his voice and it makes you wince. Or cringe. You aren’t sure which. 

You try to open your mouth so words can force their way out but instead you notice the feeling of pins and needles start to poke at your skin. Your fingers, your toes, your lips. Confused, you bring your fingers to your mouth, fingers barely grazing over your bottom lip where it tingles uncomfortably. You drop your hand, curling your fingers in and out as you try to make sense of what’s happening. 

You stare down at yourself, your chest rising and falling quickly.

When did you start breathing again?

And when did you start breathing this rapidly?

You glance around, feeling trapped because you’re sure this room is closing in on you. Everything is beginning to feel close and suffocating, like the walls are inching closer and closer, caging you in so you can suffer. Harsh, heavy breaths are pushing past your lips now. Panicked eyes going everywhere but Jungkook. Your throat…it’s closing in on you. Just like your walls. Your throat is growing smaller and smaller, your hands quickly flying to your neck and chest, as you touch yourself desperately. 

“y/n.” Jungkook is in front of you again, his eyes totally focused on you and his worried eyes grow antsier. “Hey, what is happening?” His voice sounds rushed, panicked even. “Talk to me.”

You can’t talk though. You can’t swallow your own spit. You can’t even breathe. 

“y/n.” Jungkook reaches for you again, both his hands on your arms but you flinch immediately, your blown out eyes landing on him when you shove him off.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You scream out, voice shrill and uneven. “D-Don’t fucking touch me, Jungkook.” You take several wobbly steps back, your breaths still rough and rapid. 

Jungkook’s hands hang in the air, holding nothing but the ghost of your body he once knew. 

His eyes are boring into the empty space and you see how utterly hurt he looks. 

But you don’t have it in yourself to feel compassion for his confusion. Because right now, you only see Nabi’s face in your mind, along with Jungkook’s right next to her. 

You wish you could control how your mind and body are feeling right now because if it were up to you, you would be calm and confronting Jungkook with ease because you are supposed to trust him. But you can’t control your anxiety, your panic or your dread.

Slowly lowering his arms, Jungkook tries to find your eyes with his and you notice the fear plaguing them. “y/n…” He tries your name, the word falling soft and cautious from his lips. “What’s going on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, tingly lips and fingers making you feel even more strange as quick breaths force their way out of you. You need to relax. Fucking relax. You need to get it together so you can dismiss the images in your brain and fall into the arms of the man in front of you because you love him and you trust him. That’s right. Get this conversation over with so you can move on. Because surely, your brain is wrong.

“Um,” You pry your eyes open but your vision is a bit blurry from unfallen tears. “Okay…” You take several deep breaths, trying your hardest so you’ll be able to speak.

“Take your time.” Jungkook says in a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

You will be okay. You hope.

“Jungkook.” Your chest still rises and falls with each deep breath. “I-I have to…” You pause, tongue darting out to lick your dry lips. “I…I ran into Nabi at the store.”

Your words aren’t rushed as you say them, in fact, everything feels slow. Even Jungkook’s eyes widening and the fear inside them only grow fiercer seems to happen slowly. Like, the world around you is in slow motion until suddenly it’s not. Jungkook’s eyes quickly shoot down to the wooden floors as you see his mind working in overdrive.

“I know who she is.” You find the courage to say, “I ran into her before…she s-seemed familiar. But today, I suddenly got mem—”

“—What did you see?” Jungkook quickly looks at you again, panic written all over his face. “You probably didn’t—”

“—Did you cheat on…did you ch…” You stop, the words too painful as they sit on your tongue like a knife slicing it apart. “J-Jungkook were you having an—”

“—No!” Jungkook suddenly walks closer to you, his hands desperate to reach for you but he doesn’t. Perhaps, he’s afraid you’ll slap them away again. “Fuck, y/n, I—”

You see his anxiety clear as day and somehow it only makes you feel worse. Your breaths grow slower and something close to despair throws its arms around you and holds you close. “Jungkook,” You don’t want to ask it. You don’t want the answer. “Were…were you with her when Haru was taken?”

Jungkook’s rolls his lips until they’re set in a firm line across his face, his eyes closing for a brief moment and you notice regret sticking to him. 

“Were you?” You repeat.

He opens his eyes again and with a quiet voice, he finally responds. “Yes.”

You suck in a sharp breath, but you try to remain as calm as possible. “Okay.” You give a curt nod, “And…have you gone to motels with her?”

He glances up briefly,  jaw clenching, “Yes.”

A stab to your chest, “Okay. B-Before Haru was taken…were…” Your throat burns like acid sticks to the walls, “Were we having problems in our m-marriage?”

Jungkook’s expression twists, scrunching in panic, perhaps. “Yes.” He admits with a shaky voice. 

You give a small nod before asking the question that makes or breaks this. “Were you seeing her because of a case?”

Jungkook immediately looks at you, wide, panicked eyes and you see how they fill with tears. His mouth drops open but only a shallow breath comes out. You wait for his answer. Need his answer. He quickly shuts his mouth, head turning to the side as you see him struggle to even look at you now, “No.” He finally says, the word pushed out as if he was in agony. And maybe he is. 

He said no. 

And just like that, you have your answer. Just like the past, he offers nothing more to ease your mind. No proof that there isn’t an affair happening. You stare at him. Lips parted and eyes blinking slowly. 

Your breaths are calm. But you feel weak. Like his simple answer drained every bit of life out of your body. You almost wish you could scream, cry or even through something from the rage that must be inside you. 

But it feels like there is nothing inside you. 

This betrayal only has you feeling empty.

“You…” Your voice cracks, thick tears bubbling over and falling from your eyes. “You were…”

“y/n.” Jungkook finally looks at you again and he sounds terrified. “Please, please, I am begging you, to please trust—”

“—Trust you? Fine.” You cry out, “Tell me exactly what was going on then. Tell—Tell me everything!” You take a step forward, your voice clearly begging. “Explain the fuck-fucking situation, Jungkook. So I can fucking believe you.” 

Jungkook stares at you, confliction in his eyes like how you’ve gotten used to. 

“You can’t, right?” You scoff, tears wetting your warm cheeks. “You couldn’t then either. Y-You just can’t fucking tell me the truth, right?”

Jungkook finally breaks. His lips twisting, eyes shutting in frustration and you see his own tears. “y/n please…” He begs too, his hands going to his face, rubbing his tired eyes. “Fuck, please…you need to just….y/n…please just,” He chokes on his words, a quiet sob in his throat. “I can’t d-do this again, please…I can’t do this y/n.” He cries into his hands. “I fucking can’t. I can’t. Fuck fucking everything.” 

You watch as he cries for himself. Feeling bad for himself. Pity for himself. Instead of being honest with you, he does this. 

“Please trust me. Don’t trust what you’re see—”

“—You’re asking me to trust you but not myself?” You ask in almost disbelief. You might not remember everything but it seems your feelings from that time are still so alive inside you. And that’s what you’re going to trust. “You want me to believe you but not believe prior accident me? That d-doesn’t sit right with me.” You tell him. 

“y/n…” He wipes at his eyes and his nose before trying to look at you, eyes afraid and pathetic, “Please don’t do this again…I can’t do this without you again,” He shakes his head, bottom lip quivering. “Please, my love.” 

You take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. “D-Don’t call me that.”

It feels strange to be called that by him. Strange yet familiar. And you thought the oddness that accompanied the term of endearment is because you just aren’t used to it yet. But really it’s because he isn’t supposed to be calling you that. Not anymore.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, not an ounce of pain felt. “You know,” You cry out in a whisper, “I don’t remember everything. But,” You try to speak through your tears. “But this heartache feels all too familiar. You need to leave…”

And somehow the despair in Jungkook’s eyes and the terror and look of defeat on his face also feel all too familiar. 

Because you have both been through this before already.

~~~

It’s been a week since running into Nabi and confronting Jungkook. A week since you’ve cried. A week since you’ve felt anything rumbling inside your body. A week since you’ve left your house. A week since you’ve ate a proper meal. A week since you’ve felt anything beyond an empty despair. 

Lying in bed at dawn, you lazily poke at Haru’s robot, the cold plastic on your fingertips. You poke it in the chest, over and over, soft yet determined.

“Do you have a heart in there?” You quietly ask it, somehow disappointed when it doesn’t answer you. “You…” You softly grip the toy, bringing it closer to your chest when you sigh out. “You don’t sleep either, right?”

And in the last week, the only one you’ve really talked to is this robot. Haru’s robot. You believe the comfort you feel from talking and holding this toy is because deep down you feel its familiarity with it being your sons. But also, you find yourself relating to this robot. Both empty, skin cold like plastic and neither of you having the ability to sleep. Only the option to ‘shut down’. 

You glance towards the window, the sun rising again like it always does. And you wish it didn’t. You don’t want to see the sun, you don’t want to see any light. How could the world keep on going when for you, personally, it’s ended. 

Your phone has been going off all week, your friends and parents expressing their concern for your quiet mood. Your parents don’t necessarily know what’s going on but Misuk and Subin have a better idea, considering Subin was there for the first half. You have asked for space and you’ve manage to let them know every night that you’re still here. Even when you kind of don’t want to be.

Jungkook hasn’t reached out even once. 

You don’t want to talk to him but the fact that he’s quiet…it feels even more solidifying that he’s guilty. 

And the fact your heart is broken beyond repair and it is so completely familiar to you…tells you he’s been guilty since then.

It hurts. It hurts more than you ever thought possible. Because even with missing memories, you feel how badly this hurts. Even though you don’t fully recall your actual relationship, you feel it. How real it was. How beautiful it was. How tragic it was. 

You can feel the pain as if you actually never forgot it.

And that’s why you’re choosing to trust yourself.

You barely react when your phone goes off, eyes lazily sliding over to the device that lays abandoned on the other side of the bed. You debate checking it. But for whatever reason, you reach for it and see it’s only a text from Misuk asking if you’re free today. 

You aren’t necessarily ready to face anyone quite yet but still, you tell her yes. You have received a few more memories that you’re piecing together like a jumbled up story and you’d like to talk about them.

~

“Are you…” Misuk eyes you over, pity all over her face as she leans back into the sofa, “You know, eating?”

“Sometimes.” You shrug, “I made an iced coffee today if that counts.”

“It doesn’t.” Misuk sighs out, “Why don’t I order us something? Subin should be here any second so I don’t want to ask her to pick something up when she’s this close by.”

“If you’re hungry, sure.” You shrug again. You keep your eyes lowered, fingers picking at your cuticles. 

It’s only a few minutes later when Subin has joined you and Misuk on the couch. Her antsy hands running up and down her thighs as she waits for you to answer her question.

“So?” She softly urges you to respond.

“Yeah,” You reply quietly, eyes on your lap as you look completely detached from the conversation. “My memories were right, I guess.”

You hear Subin release a long breath before she curses, “Shit…”

You shrug, “I guess my miserable life before the accident continues, huh?” You chuckle bitterly, eyes losing focus on anything.

“At first you were.” Misuk whispers, “But lately you had gotten…I don’t know, maybe—”

“—Well, I’m actually probably more miserable than before. Because I have to rediscover everything and feel each little thing…one,” You start picking at your cuticles again, “By one.”

“y/n…” You can hear the pity in Subin’s voice.

“And this time, instead of feeling upset about my probably dead child, I can just feel guilty for not even remembering him. Mother of the year.” You rip back a piece of skin from the corner of your pinky, blood immediately pooling but you don’t care. You move to the next finger. 

“y/n.” Misuk says your name in shock, “You don’t believe that for one second.”

You snap your head up, “Believe what?”

“That Haru is—”

“—I don’t even fucking know him.” You spit out. “And maybe it’s best that I never—”

“—You don’t mean that!” Subin cuts in, a soft disappointment in her voice. “I know this is hard and…” She stops talking when you narrow your eyes at her.

“You know how hard this is? Oh, do you?” Your lips turn up at the corner before you nod your head, “This happened to you before? You know what I’m going through?”

“Hey,” Misuk’s voice is scolding, “You know what Subin means.”

“Do I?” You scoff. “Let’s be honest guys,” You look between the two of them. “Do either of you even know me anymore? Do I even know you anymore? You said it yourself,” You look back down to your hands, “We barely speak anymore.”

“We barely speak because of you.” Misuk points out coldly, “You shut us out. And you’re trying to do it again! Like, wow here we go again.”

Your brow arches, almost looking amused. “Again?” You spit the word out. “Well, sorry Misuk, sorry that things fucking suck and I’m not here smiling for you. Again. I barely recall the first time this all happened and you’re mad I’m fucking reacting. Mad that I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m fucking heartbroken!” You cry out the last line. “I love you but maybe let’s not act like a bitch when neither of you know what the fuck I’m going through, hm?” You raise your brows at her with icy eyes. 

Misuk’s brows furrow but you see something flash across her face. It’s not anger. You don’t even think she’s offended. Instead you see understanding. She slowly nods her head, glancing at Subin before she clears her throat. “Okay, I’m sorry.” She says quietly, “You’re right…you’re totally right and I’m sorry. I guess…” She pauses.

“We just miss you, y/n.” Subin continues for Misuk, “We’re afraid to lose you again. That’s all. But you’re right, you shouldn’t have to act like everything is okay when it’s not.”

Misuk nods, eyes searching for yours, “And it’s not.” She says softly, “I really am sorry.”

You continue to stare down at your lap, lips pressed into one another. 

“If you’re able…why don’t you tell us what you do remember?” Misuk tries to get you to open up again instead of shutting down. You know this. You want to answer…it’s why you let them come over in the first place.

You nod, eyes still lowered. “Okay.”

Subin reaches over and gives your shoulder a squeeze, “Whatever feels manageable. Don’t push yourself too much.”

Finally lifting your eyes towards your friends, you decide to fill them in. “I’ve been remembering a few things.” You admit. “Not actual memories? I don’t know how to explain it. Not…you know, movie scenes in my head but I remember certain things because it’s like…I just know.  Does…does that make sense? No, it probably doesn’t, right?” 

“Like you’re remembering facts rather than images?” Misuk asks and you immediately nod your head quickly.

“Yes!” You say with a bit of enthusiasm. “That’s exactly it. So, basically…just things I know about our—Jungkook and I’s—marriage.”

“Oh.” Subin’s eyes are eager to know more.

“Misuk was right. It was rocky.”

“I knew it.” Misuk curses, “You never really outright said it but…I kind of figured. You never were the type to admit something like that since you’re the type to solve things by yourself.” 

“I guess I didn’t really solve anything.” You feel your body grow heavier. “I asked Jungkook if things were rough before and he admitted that it was. Since then, it’s like little facts are showing up in my brain out of nowhere…like his admission unlocked some part of my memories or something…”

“Were you two just fighting a lot?” Subin asks.

You try to think about it. It’s not like you remember a specific argument but you know the answer is yes. “Yeah.”

“But you think he was having an affair with…” Misuk glances at Subin, “What was her name again?”

“Nabi.” You say. “But our problems were starting before that, I think. I know we were fighting all the time. I just know. I also know he was keeping things from me. He was barely home anymore and I felt…” You chew on your lips, unsure of what exactly it was since you don’t know everything. But one word keeps popping up in your mind. “Unfulfilled.” You say, the word somehow resonating with you like you’ve said it before.

“Yeah.” Misuk agrees quietly, “You mentioned something like that in the past…way before Haru’s kidnapping.”

“Misuk,” You suddenly find her eyes, “Why did I lead you to believe Jungkook was wronging me somehow?”

“You mentioned someone else.” She tells you, “But you didn’t give me any detail. But you were so…sureabout something and I believed you. Your expression.” Misuk frowns, “I knew something serious must have had occurred because I had never seen you like that.”

You glance back down at your lap, your focus on your hands again. “I see.” Then you lift your eyes again, “I remember that at that time I was suspicious of Jungkook. Of the affair. I know I dug deeper and found things that I wish I never had…” You recall the memories that hit you at the market. “Eventually I confronted him and just like now, he was unable to give me an explanation. And I was right.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Misuk huffs out, eyes going to the ceiling. “That’s terr—”

“—And he was with her. When Haru was taken. I don’t know how I know, but he was supposed to be picking Haru up from daycare. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to but I know that it was something I needed from him…something for him to do to make me feel like he was a part of this family. But he failed.” Your words grow quieter with each syllable. “And I know that for the first time in my life,” You stare at nothing, eyes growing watery. “That I hated someone. With my entire being.” 

It's quiet. Neither of your friends having the courage to say anything to your words. 

You try to clear your throat and blink back any tears in your eyes before looking at them again, “But still, so much doesn’t make sense and there’s so much still missing.” You feel your heart grow weaker as you chuckle humorlessly, “And Jungkook hasn’t tried to reach out to me even once…which just feels like more proof.” 

“I can’t imagine Jungkook even looking at someone who isn’t you…” Subin whispers, “He…well, I guess we don’t ever really know what goes on. I find it hard to hate him but seeing what he’s done to—"

“—I know I truly hated him then.” You cut her off with a shaky voice. “And I think I hate him now, too. But,” You search both of your friends eyes with desperation so depressing, “If I hate him this much it’s because I also,” You choke, “Love him this much too, right?” You ask the question so innocently and delicately as your voice cracks.

 You let yourself feel your own question and for the first time since a week ago—you cry. You let tears fall and you let your body break. “Because—Because I do. I love him so much that its hurting me. I…I can’t even b-breathe because I love him. I can’t—can’t sleep because I love him.” You shoulders shake as you sob loudly. Almost like a child. “I can’t remember my own child be—because I love him.” You slam your eyes shut, mouth hung open as you choke on your sobs. “My brain c-can’t show my memories because I love him. He’s—he’s the only thing my b-brain wants to think about.” 

At a loss for words, Misuk and Subin feel their hearts breaking in their chests. This is more devastating than the first time. They realize, you were right, this is more miserable.

~~~

It’s been three weeks since Jungkook has seen you. Since he’s seen you, his light. The only thing in this entire world that could possibly make him feel alive. The only thing in the entire universe that could make his heart beat again. You’re the only one keeping him from going insane or ending his own life. He had always held onto the hope that one day this will be behind you guys. 

And then he can touch you again, hold you again, openly love you again.

But mostly, for you to love him again. 

His apartment is how it always is, TV blaring with the news on. The blueish light illuminates his entire living room and lately it has been his only source of light. You, his true source, no longer rising in his sky. 

It’s around four in the afternoon when Jungkook’s phone starts going off, the vibrating making his coffee table buzz. He rubs his eyes with a fist before setting his nearly empty beer bottle down to the table and reaching for the device.

Jimin.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before answering, “I told you to leave me alone.” He slurs into the phone.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” Jimin doesn’t hide his disapproval. “Going to pull this shit again, Jungkook?”

“Fuck off, Jimin.” Jungkook brings the phone away from his face and ends the call. 

Not even ten seconds pass before his phone is buzzing again in his hands. He groans loudly as he answers it again, “What the fuck do you—”

“—Just fucking listen, you moron.” Jimin cuts in, “I’m already risking everything by being in contact with you. And now you’re back to your old ways.” He scoffs, “If you fuck this up, I swear I’ll come to your shit apartment and kick your ass myself.”

Jungkook drunkenly chuckles into the phone, “You don’t have to help—”

“—Help you?” Jimin scoffs again, “I’m not doing this for you and you know it.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook grumbles while reaching for his beer again and taking a swig, “What do you want?”

“Lee Jaesung.” Jimin says.

Immediately Jungkook leans forward on his couch, something more serious falling over his face before he asks, “What about him?”

“Well, he was the only thing getting us closer to this shit.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook sets the beer down again, “Does he have new information?”

“He’s dead.” Jimin informs with a bite to his tone, “Guy was found in his apartment. Apparent suicide.”

Jungkook grits his teeth, “Fucking bullshit.” 

“I know.” Jimin sighs, “You’ve been MIA and I need you to get your shit together if we’re going to—”

“—Count me out.” Jungkook slurs into the phone, “I’m done.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment before he’s chuckling into the phone, “You’re really back to this, huh? You’re sad, Jungkook. I told you years ago you were going to ruin your marriage. Didn’t I?”

Jungkook grips the edge of the couch cushion, eyes growing darker as he watches the bright TV screen. “Shut up.” He seethes, “Don’t bring up—”

“—You ruined your entire life you fucking drunk.” Jimin spits at him, “Fix your shit then call me.”

Jungkook keeps the phone to his ear despite the fact that Jimin has hung up. It slides down his cheek and eventually falls to the floor as he continues to stare at the bright screen of his TV. He is here again. And it’s not like he can’t not believe that he’s back to this because it never feels like he ever wasn’t like this. This is just who he is now. It’s the him that he knows. And when you woke up knowing the him he used to know…it almost felt like he could be that person again.

Having to tell you about Haru again…heartbreaking.

But having to see you experience that same betrayal and heartache…pure utter torture.

Jungkook drunkenly reaches for the TV remote and shuts it off, the room going completely dark. His closed blinds and heavy drapes block out the sun that isn’t you. He is in darkness because in his life there is no light.

Because you aren’t here anymore.

~

“Yes, well, believe it or not…” You sigh into your phone, small smile on your lips. “I’m actually getting out of the house today.” 

“To eat a real meal?” Misuk asks knowingly.

“Kind of?” You laugh. “I’m in the mood for coffee but like, not from my coffee pot.” 

Misuk tsks, “Fine. But at least buy a cookie or something too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You tell her, “I found a cute café not too far away. Not a full menu place with servers like the one Subin likes—not that she even wants to go there anymore—but this place is like a little hole in the wall. Good reviews too.”

“I wish I could ditch work and join you.” She whines, “But I’ll have to stick to break room coffee.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“Oh, it is.” She laughs, “But okay. I hope you enjoy the café.”

“Me too,” At this point you hope you enjoy anything.

But the world is still dark.

And you’re hoping a nice outing with a good caffeinated drink could offer a little shining light in this complete darkness that consumes you. Even if it’s temporary. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Misuk.” You say before you’re both hanging up.

You look ahead, eyes on the building in front of you. You didn’t tell Misuk you’re actually already here but too afraid to get out of your car and walk inside. You aren’t sure why you’re afraid. Maybe it’s because it’s your first real outing since memories started coming to you. Maybe you’re afraid the more places and people you see, it will trigger more to unlock.

And you’re afraid of more truths that you wish would stay hidden would reveal themselves.

It’s hard but you finally manage to get out of your car and force your legs to take you inside. But the moment you step inside and you’re greeted with the smell of coffee and baked good, you immediately relax. 

It’s not a busy place at all. It’s small maybe the size of your living room and kitchen combined. Just a long counter with cookies, cakes and breads that smell delicious and an artsy menu board hanging on the back wall with a long list of drinks. And along one of the walls and all the windows is small, round tables with chairs. 

You take a breath before walking to the counter and a girl with bright eyes greets you with a heartwarming grin. When you tell her you’ve never been, she happily gestures to the menu and begins telling you all her favorite drinks. And she claims you must try their chocolate cookies.

“Hm,” You weigh all your options, feeling tempted by the lavender tea she mentioned. “Okay yeah, I’ll get that.”

“And a cookie too?” She smiles.

You can’t help but chuckle, it’s as if Misuk told this girl to ask you that. “Sure, a cookie too.”

“Okay!”

After you pay, the girl motions towards a wall with a bookshelf, “Feel free to browse. I’ll have you order up soon and I’ll call for you.” 

“Thanks.” You smile.

You decide to take her up on it, eyes browsing this bookshelf while your fingers brush against the spines. There’s some books you recognize and a ton that you don’t. You can tell which books are popular and which aren’t—the dust giving it away.

After several minutes of looking over book titles, the girl calls you over since your drink and cookie are ready. You excitedly go to the counter, hands reaching for the items and your nose is being blessed. You can tell this cookie is about to change your world.

“Thanks!” You say before excitedly and quickly turning around to find a table when you literally run into someone. This needs to stop happening to you. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if—

“Ah, Hot! Hot!” An unexpected voice yelps, “Hooooooooly shit, that’s hot!”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You stare at a broad chest, a button up shirt completely soaked as you begin to panic. “Are you—Are you okay?”

The man in front of you starts airing his shirt out, trying his best for the hot liquid to not burn his chest, you’re sure. “Ooooooh,” He whistles out, “That hurts.”

“Oh my god…I’m…I am so so—”

“—No worries,” He starts laughing, still airing the shirt. “It kind of feels like that first moment when you get under a hot shower.” 

You stare at his chest, completely panicked…he’s not going to press charges, right? Is that a thing? You could have seriously burned him! “Are you okay? Seriously—” You finally rip your eyes from his shirt to get a look at him. 

“Seriously,” He laughs more, “I’m okay.”

You gaze at him, his smile is spread across his face while he looks down at his shirt now.

“Good thing I keep extra shirts at work.” He says before glancing back up and locking eyes with you. “No harm here.”

You feel guilt sink it. “Oh my god, I hope I didn’t ruin your shirt…will it stain?” 

“You’re worried about this shirt?” He laughs loudly while his eyes crinkle cutely. “Wow, my mom would be so happy that at least someone cares about this thing. It was a Christmas present…and I’m pretty sure it was actually meant for my brother.”

You can’t help but snort, “Oh.”

“Literally only wearing it because I’m hoping something will happen to it and I can finally have a reason to throw it away.” He smiles, “And finally,” He looks up at the ceiling and pumps the air with his fists, “I can get rid of it!” 

You watch him, unsure if he’s serious or just trying to make you feel better. But either way…it does make you feel better.

“Is it still hot?” You find yourself asking, eyes back on his wet chest.

“Nah,” He waves you off with a goofy grin, “Now it’s sort of just sticking to me uncomfortably and it’s cold now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly feel bad again.

“Which is great because the sun is unforgiving today, don’t you think? So hot.” He begins fanning himself, grin still on his face before he glances down to the package in one of your hands. “Is that a chocolate chip cookie? Those are the best here!”

You look down, “Oh…oh yeah. Um, it is.”

“You should probably eat it, maybe you’ll finally smile. They’re that good.” He winks at you, “Or if you drowning in guilt over here, you could always let me have a piece too and we can call this whole,” He motions between you both, “thing even.” 

You stare at him for a moment, completely taken aback by his energy. He’s still smiling and it feels infectious, like you want to smile too.

And you do.

Though it is small and timid. You do.

In all this overwhelming darkness that has wrapped its arms around you, suffocating you in an unwanted embrace…all you really need right now in your life is some sort of light getting shed so you can finally see something besides your own despair. 

You just need some light. 

And little do you know that a bright, bright light is coming into your life.

And that light has a name.

And he goes by Kim Seokjin.

~

Next

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: death. suicidal thoughts. grief. angst. miguel being a hardass. cursing/adult language.

notes: ok, here we go. the last part. star girl kisses hobie on the cheek, and they have some romantic implications. HOWEVER. i did not write them to be romantic. i just see hobie as a very physically affectionate person (especially since i’m this way.)

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

word count: 2.6k

part v : void

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

cursed daughter,

uttering insanities no one believes,

do you regret taking the vow?

“you die.”

it felt like the ground was dropping out from under you, like the void had somehow traveled from your dead universe to this one to drag you down where you belonged.

in the grave. in the ground. gone.

you were staring at lyla. or maybe you weren’t. her orange form blended and swirled as tears overflowed your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. all the fight, the rage, the energy, was gone. snuffed like a candle flame.

just like you should be right now.

“i was supposed to die.” you whispered, more to yourself than miguel or lyla. “but i was somewhere else.”

anger lit in your chest fast, ignited by the frustration that had grown for months in your mind, words yelled at mirrors and whispered to the ceiling.

you turned to miguel, still on the ground as you raised your voice.

“i was somewhere else because of your sorry ass beating a mother fucking teenager to death! because i had to protect a child! from you!” you stepped up, rising slowly even as your knees shook. “if i hadn’t been worried about miles or you or your determination to keep the canon intact, then it would have been fine! i would have died, and everyone in my universe would have been okay!”

deflect, ignore the problem, fight, rage, scream.

you hated how similar you were to miguel.

you hated him.

he stood still as a statue, watching you with a defeated expression as you self destructed.

“y/n…” he tried, voice the softest you had ever heard it.

and you broke.

your knees buckled, but he was there in an instant, hands looping under your arms so that you didn’t fall. he pulled you into him, even as your fists beat against his chest.

“i hate you so fucking much. i hate how you make me feel and i hate what you did and i hate you-“ you sobbed, trying and failing to grapple with the weight of what had happened.

and through it all he just held you, tucking your head under his chin.

“i know, mija.” he whispered, his hand resting against the back of your neck to pull you against him.

“if you hadn’t been an asshole and chased a kid then it would have been alright. all those people would be alive and-“

“and you’d be dead.” he finished, his arm around you tightening slightly. “and i think we both know i wouldn’t let that happen.”

you felt repulsed, like his hands were burning, a betrayal to a boy beaten by the same palms. but you were also desperate, clinging to a life you lived for nine months only to be stripped from it completely. you wanted this contact, craved this hug.

your mind cried TRAITOR and your heart cried HOME. it was a contradiction that made you ache, a reminder of what was gone and would never return.

your hands clenched the material of miguel’s suit tight, bunching it as you wheezed. you felt so small, and yet so large. grief scratched at you with newly sharper claws, and guilt followed at its heels.

miguel’s hold tightened.

your mind switched to analytical thinking, trying to procure a solution, to fix what you had broken.

the answer came clearly, emerging from the darkest spot of your mind like a banished creature.

“you need to kill me.”

miguel pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hands moving to your upper arms to grip you in an unyielding hold. his eyes filled with a solemn determination that made you want to sob, made you want to scream.

“it won’t bring them back.” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “nothing you or i or lyla or anyone does will bring them back.”

the void at your toes, ready to swarm. an ocean of black silence, waiting to drown you.

“there has to be a way, miguel. please. if my universe collapsed because i didn’t die, then maybe if i died it would come ba-“

“do you think i didn’t try that when gabriella’s universe disappeared?” he asked, voice firm but expression soft. “i tried for weeks, never truly sleeping. i went through data and experimentation just for a chance to reassemble a universe. it doesn’t matter.”

your chest tightened, your breath limited as you tried to force a rhythm.

in, hold, out.

all those children.

in, hold, out.

mothers and fathers.

in, hold, out.

AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.

miguel pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

the thoughts muted, the world dark and warm as you pressed your face to his chest. his arms, keeping you safe from the outside.

the tears didn’t stop for a long time, and neither did your choked cries. but it didn’t matter to him. it didn’t matter that there was a wet patch in his suit that most definitely included snot as well as tears.

he guided you through breathing, moving his hand in rhythmic circles on the upper plane of your back as he whispered “in, and out” over and over until your heartbeat calmed.

miguel knew that this was just the beginning. there would be late nights and frustrated yelling and breakdowns for a long time. it would take months to heal, months to work this guilt out of you.

but he’d be there every step of the way.

he refused to leave you again.

“you’re a hypocrite.” you whispered, and again he pulled back to look at you.

your eyes were set in firm decisiveness, as though you’d been thinking about this for some time. his gut twisted and his frustration flared slightly, but his inclined his head to let your speak.

you took a breath. “you’d save me for the sake of your own benefit. you care for me- i make you less lonely.” she held up her hand when his mouth opened, and his words died on his tongue. “you’d let my entire universe die just to have me.”

your voice faltered as tears balled in your throat, but you swallowed and carried on. miguel needed to hear this, and you were pretty sure you were the only person he’d hear it from.

“that’s selfish. incredibly so. but.” she trailed off, piecing the words together and preparing for his rebuttal. “when miles wants to save his father, it’s a cardinal sin.”

“y/n, it’s diff-“

“no, it’s not.” you cut him off, and again his mouth shut. he had forgotten just how quick your words were, no doubt sharpened by your temporary grounding.

“you’re sympathetic to me, but you slam a boy, a boy, miguel, into a train because he wants to save his father. meanwhile, you’d save your daughter without so much as a second thought? that’s hypocrisy.”

his eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“all i ask is that you give him the same grace. can’t you understand why he refuses to follow your orders?

miguel sighed, keeping his eyes on you.

“miles is an anomaly, he’s was never meant to be spider-man-“

“enough of that. that has nothing to with the canon event. the universe didn’t collapse when he was bitten. it’s not his fault.”

“he is the beginning of this, the reason why there even is a spider society.”

your eyes narrowed, anger rising as you remembered the broken boy with bandages on his chest. “so you’re going to traumatize him? as punishment? he doesn’t deserve this blame, and you should never have reinforced it into his head. he’s fifteen, miguel. fifteen and scared. and now his head is full of your rhetoric, full of this hate that he doesn’t deserve. it’s not fair.”

you paused, and miguel worked his jaw, speechless.

“there must be another way. the canon has been flexible before. we can’t bring my universe back, but maybe we can save his. without making him watch his father die.” a tear slipped from your eye as you shoved down your sadness, forcing yourself to move on in order to help miles.

miguel’s thumb caught the tear before it fell, and you leaned into his palm.

“i think you need to sit this one out.” he whispered, eyes full of concern as your own blinked open. “i made the mistake of training you too early after your mother died, i won’t make the same mistake by allowing you to rush into this while you’re falling apart.”

you watched him, processing his words.

he was right, of course. it wasn’t healthy to push grief aside for later, especially this kind. the kind that poked at your throat and dug into your stomach. but the clock was ticking. a little less than two days.

you wanted nothing more than to curl up into a bed and cry. but you didn’t have time.

“i need to do this. and i need you to be there with me when i do, at my side. not against me. and after we figure this out, i’ll go to therapy and we can eat ice cream or whatever shit people normally do when they’re sad. ok?” you said.

this was the price of the name. sacrifice. pain. suffering. all for the greater good of the people.

miguel’s thumb stroked across your cheekbone as his jaw feathered.

“please. let me finish this.” you whispered.

miguel’s decision appeared in his eyes before it came out of his mouth.

“is this our tradition now?” he asked, and your face broke into a watery smile.

“fucking shit up despite our metal health? i guess so.” you laughed as you rubbed the heel of your hand against your eye, rubbing tears from your face.

“lyla?” you called, and she appeared at your shoulder. “can you help me reach hobie?”

lyla nodded, but miguel’s eyes hardened. “what do we need him for?” he asked, already sounding exasperated.

you smiled. “if you want to really fuck the system, you call the anarchist.” you said as you tapped at your watch.

i need some help defying the canon. you in?

it only took a few seconds for a reply.

let’s raise hell. meet you at my place in an hour.

i have miguel. but he’s leashed.

miguel looked over your shoulder, scoffing at the message.

“leashed?” he asked, and you smiled wickedly.

“you will be if you don’t listen. i’m not above webbing you to a wall and taking Rapture away from you.” you patted his shoulder. “just behave.”

you opened a portal when a thought rose suddenly.

“do you have any causal clothes?” you asked over your shoulder, and miguel raised a brow at you.

“for what?”

you grinned. “hard to be incognito in a spider suit. we need to blend in where we’re going.”

he smirked. “and what about you? think no one’s gonna stare at that suit just as much as mine?”

your teeth flashed as your grin widened. “i have clothes at hobie’s place.”

miguel’s amused expression dropped, and the glint in his eye told you that you may have to stand in front of hobie when he came back.

when he returned with clothes, grumpy as ever, you turned to the portal and jumped in, miguel at your heels.

₊ ⊹

“i cant fold it right, mine keeps bursting open.” you sighed, showing miguel the embarrassment of an empanada in your hands.

he shook his head at you, having already made a pile of at least ten. “it’s too much filling. you’re smart: use deductive reasoning.”

you elbowed him in the side, and he pretended to be wounded, letting out a fake gasp of pain.

you had both gone to the grocery store as soon as you entered earth-138, grabbing the necessary ingredients for a meal for the kids.

you had resolved that, if miguel couldn’t fully verbally apologize yet, then he could at least make them dinner.

and miguel had dragged his feet, refusing to give his input as you walked the aisles of produce and food. but when you fixed him with a glare and a sharp word, he had straightened up, explaining what exactly you needed.

and that brought you here, assembling empanadas with salsa verde and mexican rice on the counter of hobie’s house boat.

the group was late, though hobie had messaged you telling you that it was because they were talking miles into actually going in. the boy was terrified, but hobie and gwen were assuring him that everything was fine.

miguel placed the empanadas in the oven as the door to the boat clicked open and the spider band stepped though.

thank god it was spacious, you thought as the filed in.

you stepped forward to hobie, who embraced you with an arm around your waist and his mouth to your ear.

“one word and he’s a dead man.” he murmured to you as his eyes stayed fixed on miguel over your shoulder.

you garnered that miguel was staring back based on the tingling feeling of your skin.

“i got it. but noted.” you replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you pulled back.

his hands found your shoulders, leaning down to level a look at you. “you good?” he asked earnestly, his eyes concerned.

your smile was small, but it was a start.

“i’m good. better now.” you whispered, and he squeezed your shoulders.

he moved to the side, and your eyes caught miles’s, who stood with his arms limply at his side in a corner of the room.

you walked over to him, and his jaw clenched.

“i’m so sorry.” he whispered, and your heart ached.

“its not your fault. fate is a bitch sometimes.” you said as you slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. his arms wrapped around your back gratefully.

you reached a hand to gwen and pavitr, and they joined the hug.

“my baby spiders.” you cooed. “i missed you.”

you pulled away to look around at the others, nodding to noir and peter b and fist bumping peni.

you met miguel’s eyes, and he nodded.

deep breath. it’s not like this is the end of the word or anything.

“we have less than two days to find a solution to save miles dad. the cannon is temperamental, but it is flexible. there must be a way other than jefferson’s death that can prevent earth-1610 from collapsing. any ideas?”

you gazed around the room to blank stares and thoughtful expressions. silence pressed against your ears as no one replied.

“my dad stepped down.” came a hesitant voice.

you turned to find gwen staring at you with a hopeful expression.

“he stepped down from being captain.” she said again. she looked to the side at miles. “after he found out my identity.”

something like hope grew in your chest as you glanced again at miguel. he looked back with a soft expression, tilting his head at you.

“he’ll never step down.” miles sighed, his fingers finding his temple.

“but it shows that there’s wiggle room.” you said, and miles’s eyes peeked at you.

“nothing is black and white. it’s not simple, but it’s a start.” you said as you walked over to the oven, getting out the empanadas.

“brain food?” asked peter b, and you smiled.

miguel stood beside you, preparing plates.

“not bad, y/n.” he said, and you leaned your side against his for a moment.

“where there’s a will, there’s a way.” you said, passing out plates before taking a seat next to hobie on the floor.

you looked around at the group, a smile rising on your face.

“spot’s on the move in 1610.” announced lyla, and hobie turned to you.

“okay, star girl. what’s the plan?”

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　fin　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

taglist: aka my little stars

@brittany69 @ladyfairenvale @teamwolverine @kinkybandages @lunamhm565i @dhadiirah @pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer @leviathxn @khaylin27 @dulceteris @mouthfulofpearls @alecmores @kissitoffme @mvlanchqly

oh my goodness. thank you all so much for your love and kind words. this is my first finished series, and it’s crazy to think that it all started with a thought of

“what if miguel had a daughter who’s universe collapsed?”

and it’s become a series with followers and people who love it. i’m so incredibly thankful for both your love and your patience- i went through a very hard friendship breakup that kind of ruined my spirit for a while. hence why this took so long.

i know there will be some of you who are not satisfied with this ending. i myself am never truly honestly satisfied with what i write. but i wanted to get this out into the world. BUT. my asks are always open for questions, requests, and headcanons for this story. it’s very dear to my heart, and i’m just so amazed at you all.

my little stars, i hope you enjoyed ‘the price of the name’.

all my love,

pearl ♡

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 45

chapter 68:

1. “Some of those ashes could be Marlene.” bro wtf

2. listing out the names of the people who died in war destroyed me

3. james reacting to his father’s death by flinching away from effie had me broken. i’m destroyed. unwell

4. “The worst part is, when he says what he does next, it's not even a question. "After that, you're leaving."

Sirius' eyes flutter shut, and he croaks, "Yeah, Reggie, I'm leaving again."”

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING IM UNWELL I WILL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN!!! I WILL NEVER BE FINE AGAIN

5. “”Sirius, I love you more than anything. You're the first person in this world I ever loved at all. Not Mother, not Father, not James; it was you.”” STILL SCREAMING STILL CRYING STILL SOBBING STILL UNWELL

6. okay just all of the stuff with the black brothers has me in tears. their bond is unbreakable and my heart is in fact very breakable. i’m shattered over them

7. dorcas hasn’t left that spot in over twenty four hours and boy am i worried for her. she needs water. she needs to go pee, i’m sure. she needs to eat something and to rest

8. “Just not afraid to die, then?

No, I'm rather used to it, actually.”

STILL SCREAMING OVER MARLENE!!! STILL SOBBING ACTUALLY

9. “"You. Even you," Dorcas declares harshly, glaring at her. "I'd rather it be you. Instead of her, I'd rather you be dead."”

WOAH! hold up!!! i love marlene as much as the next gal, but nobody goes after my girl lily. she fought and fought and fought as well. she deserved to make it to this side of war too! she tried to keep marlene alive too. hold your horses dorcas.

10. 😧 did you just shoot my lily??? MY LILY??? holy fucking shit. she’s insane.

11. “Some of that blood must have been Marlene's. Dorcas wishes she had bathed in it; Dorcas wants to turn back time and drown in it.” 😟 i’m worried

12. “Never, through any of this, did [James] imagine losing his dad.” kill me. it would be more merciful than making me live after reading that

13. “Monty loved Sirius like a father did; Sirius is allowed to mourn him as a son would.” calling my freind again while sobbing brb

14. god I don’t know how to explain it, but every time pandora is mentioned and she’s alive i let out a huge sigh of relief

15. AROACE PANDORA SUPREMACY

16. i’m so horridly upset that lily lost almost everyone. she lost her family, she lost sybil, she lost kingsley, and dorcas tried to shoot her, so i’m pretty sure she lost her too. lily tried to not love anybody because she was scared of losing them, and sure enough, she was right

17. i get upset when everyone talks about going separate ways. i want everyone to live in one big town and live right next door to each other. i’m thinking hogwarts vibes (except better, ya know) or maybe the mansion they all lived in at the start of ahb!

18. as much as it upsets me that sirius is going to be leaving james and effie and regulus, i’m genuinely so happy that sirius is going to stay with remus

19. oh. i see why sirius has to leave. it’s best for everyone to heal a little before sirius sees his james and regulus again. because otherwise they won’t be able to heal

20. i love wolfstar, and this is so emotional but like, “Just—for right now, what I need is to be with you. I want—that's what I want.” all that does is remind me of high school musical with the “ALL I WANNA DOOOO IS BEE WITH YOU! ONLY YOU! NO MATTER WHERE LIFE TAKES US, NOTHING CAN BREAK US APAAAART, YOU KNOW ITS TRUE, I JUST WANNA BE WITH YOUUUU”

21. ““I wish I did love him that way," Regulus confesses, "because it would have been easier than this. It would have been easier to define how losing him feels, but it's not. James, it's not."”

god, i ache for him. like so badly. i so badly want him to have barty back. more than any other character. (sorry to marlene and monty and sybil and literally everyone else who died)

22. “It's still been three days since the end of the war, and Regulus wonders when they'll stop measuring the passage of time that way.” 😟

23. “Doomed to be a great, big tragedy.” *eye twitch* i’m fine. *even bigger eye twitch*

24. look, i know in the future, everyone will be together again and as happy as they can ever be. but rn, i’m sad

chapter 69:

1. “"I don't care!" Aberforth shouts. "I don't give a damn about your fucked up love story with our sister's murderer, Albus! The fact that you even came to love him to begin with sickens me, let alone that you continued to after he killed Ariana, and still do to this day!"” hell yeah put him in his place

2. “The dead sister card is a little underhanded, admittedly, but Aberforth knows a thing or two about manipulation tactics. He'd have to. Albus is his older brother, after all.” LMAOOOOOO

3. lily mentioning children and sirius and remus just locking eyes and panicking was so fucking funny. bro i’m wheezing

4. BRO AND THEN REGULUS BEING LIKE “you’ve??? never thought about kids??????? wtf??? me and james are having four you little loser??????”

5. dorcas just marching in has me so fucking scared ngl

6. oh god, dorcas became the president coin in this. she wants to make a new hunger games. oh god. oh no

7. as horrifying as it was to see sirius’ train of thought, him being the first one to say no is so fucking satisfying oh my god

8. good for remus fucking standing up for lily. everyone is blaming lily, and finally remus speaks up that the blame cannot rest on lily alone

9. 😧😧 not albus suggesting the jegulus wedding to help with the aftermath. bro he’s fucking insane. it’s so hallow-like of him to suggest that oh my god

10. oh my god dorcas has gone insane, is she about to tell everyone how albus was in love with grindlewald. that’s fucking insane oh my god i can’t wait

11. oh my god it’s even better. it’s that he came up with the rule for the quarterly quell. oh my god this is gonna be great

12. 😧 holy shit. sirius just killed albus. imma be so real, i expected one person to not leave that table, and i thought it would be dorcas, not albus. i thought she would be killed

13. minerva asking lily to be a medic and help save albus, and lily just not will forever be iconic to me

14. as a punishment they banned sirius from the hallow 😭😭😭 babes they knew they had to come up with some punishment as like a way to show actions have consequences, but they chose one that sirius would love 😭😭 that’s so funny to me bro

15. alberforth finally leaving his home is a very satisfying character arch

16. “this story is, first and foremost, about siblings—primarily sirius and regulus ofc—like that is the whole point of this fic, the core of it over anything else. and that feels right considering the source material, like in thg, it was always about katniss' love for prim and how important that was over peeta or gale or anyone else. and i just. i really adore that, and hope i paid a good homage to that, because i really admire it.”

you did. you did pay homage to that. it was abundantly clear that this was about siblings. and i love you for it. thank you, if you see this

alrighty six more chapters to go! i’m in the home stretch yall

[libbee]

Feeling Powerless in the 8th House?

Power is a strange thing. At first, it provokes the images of government, corporates, police, institutions, leaders in mind. On a personal level, it provokes images of parents, partner, inter-human relationships, schools, and even social media. Likes, reblogs, followers, public engagement give a sense of "power".

Power is not even a bad thing. It gives you competence, strength to get things done, self defence, self preservation and to live in society, you need power. Power is the child of socialization, how else will you get things done? How else will one survive in this world?

But where we do feel powerless is in the 8th house. "You are not in control of your life", this sentence alone is enough to create crisis in mind. That your relationships, goals, desires, personality, actions, intentions, thoughts, looks, luck, life story, fortune and misfortune, nothing is your own is a scary thing to realize. I cannot even afford to lose this tumblr account, let alone lose my identity, possessions and ego, then how can I happily surrender my power to the forces of the 8th house? If I don't have any power then I am as good as a dead body.

Ego v/s Powerlessness

8th house is like the reverse of everything you have been told by the society. Ever since my confrontation with this house, I feel like everything that is visible, written, told is a lie and only that is truth which is invisible, unwritten and untold. As soon as something is brought outside in the surface, it loses its truthfulness. No amount of spirituality and mysticism can explain the truth because it will not remain truth if it is brought to the surface. Everything that is brought to the surface is immediately influenced by the ego, vanity, narcissism, arrogance of the outside word. Bring a fish out of the ocean and it immediately dies. Its real place is inside the ocean. What belongs to the ocean be left in its original place. Then how do we know that the fish exist? We know because we "feel". 8th house is one of intuition (gut feelings and hunches) and feelings (that thing in your body that eats you alive). We "feel" love but as soon as try to describe that love it loses its truthfulness. You are now looking for the words, language, sentences to express your love and then you look for appreciation, acknowledgement, reciprocation and acceptance of your love. All this is vanity in a micro level.

Humility and Detachment

Okay guys, I am a humble person because I am self aware and talk about humility, so I am a down to earth and nice person, ok? But isn't it .... self-contradictory? 8th house teaches you real humility, the real thing that is not about self expression and preaching, it is about hiding yourself in the closet because you are really feeling humble. Ironically, we are a society that thrives on goals, aspirations and advancement then the 8th house is like the party pooper that tries to make you humble when all the other kids are being cool and dancing around. Not fair, sir, I hate such schools that don't treat all students equally and fairly. But 8th house is the teacher that chooses few students and teaches them real humility and brings them back to the track every time they go astray. This humility is strange because it is not in the words or performance or poetries; real humility is a thing that you know inside and then keep your lips closed because those who know don't need understanding and preaching, while those who are not there yet look for all kind of guidance and tuition. 8th house chooses its own students and they don't even know they are the chosen ones because there are no regular classes. Some days, everything seems normal, life is fine and then 8th house will summon you for emergency classes because you let something go to your head, you were vain and dishonest, you were selfish and acted against your conscience, so the teacher will call you back to the classroom and teach you real humility once again. 8th also has no notes and lessons, you are your own teacher, you will be just made to face your feelings, memories, behaviours, sometimes in isolation all alone for days or weeks, until you understand the pattern and interconnectedness of everything and change your behaviours for the future.

A Nobody in Nowhere

Even in the occult community, we have people who are egoistic, narcissists and vain, so why call out "others" when it is the humanity itself that is deeply entangled in the dirt of vanity. The other end of vanity is that you are a nobody in nowhere. If I completely surrender all my vanity then I close this account and never share my opinion on anything because conversations are impossible without some layers of ego. When two people sit and talk, they see each other's ego. Every time they open their mouths, it is their ego that speaks. It is just impossible to live a life without some ego, even if a thin layer of it. Writing this post is "my" assertion of "my" ego. And the silliest thing is that this enlightenment comes and goes, one minute one feels like they are finally enlightened and the next minute they are again confused. I think it is because there are 12 houses in a birth chart and there is more to life than what happens in 8th house alone. Whereas your 8th house may want you to surrender your ego, but your 1st house placements may want you to become a poster boy in your workplace. Two conflicting desires - To be somebody and To not be somebody. This is why self awareness and deep insights into your feelings will keep you sane here. It is a scary house when you are a newbie, but with enough training and understanding, it becomes the door to even greater understanding of 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th houses. These are the houses of the collective, greater, bigger than life and larger than an individual.

Still Feeling Powerless?

Me too. But I guess this is the challenge, to find a personal power deep within and to preserve it. Perhaps this is the reason why these natives sometimes get really spiritual, celibate and mystical. Because they preserve and protect their personal power against the world. To stand in the face of uncertainty and yet trust the patterns. To stare into the darkness and yet have scotopic vision. To get things done and yet surrender your power attitude. 8th house is like living in the dark nights when you were accustomed to living in the bright mornings and sunny afternoons. The only problem is to let go of the bitterness, resentment and frustration that comes with seeing other people still consumed in their illusions. But if we are to accept our own ignorance then we have to be tolerant with others as well, because knowledge itself is ignorance as they say. Perhaps the language of the unconscious is "silence" because the moment we start speaking all the demons and dangers of mind are summoned.

The journey to this realization comes in many ways. For me, it came from healing my childhood traumas and family inheritances of behaviours, thoughts, attitudes and emotions. "Dysfunctional family" but it turns out that there was this deeper meaning underneath all the dysfunction. Perhaps there is no such thing as "functional and healthy". Of course I am not romanticizing abuse at all. But it is surprising to see how healing childhood trauma leads to the point of spiritual path, it leads you to realize that the society as a whole is pretty dysfunctional and the only functional place is the underworld.

[blood-mocha-latte]

Hi, I need an outsider's pov of postwar luztoye please, if that seems interesting enough to distract you from other tasks. 😅 Maybe a little old lady who lives next door and brings those nice boys a pie sometimes because George fixed her radio while Joe let her talk his ear off about her son who doesn't visit?

bestie i took this and RAN with it, so i'm hoping this is okay and/or what you were thinking! it got... longer, than i was expecting, but i hope you enjoy <3

---

It’s been lonely, since Lulu died.

The mutt managed to make it seventeen years before kicking it, so she counts it as a victory as best she can. 

Still, the apartment is often too quiet, so she’s grateful for the book club, even if her guest is quieter than the dead dog. 

Book club is probably pushing it, as at best it’s a mangy meeting to discuss books that neither of them necessarily enjoy. 

Still, they’re classics, and she’d like to read them at least once before she herself kicks it. Toye doesn’t seem prone to disagree with her, anyways, just sits grudgingly in the chair across from her, one crutch propped up against the armrest and the other in his lap

She looks over at him, amused. There’s a dark dip between his brows, a telltale sign of focus where focus isn’t necessarily wanted. 

“You can just pretend to read it, you know.” She says. It takes him a moment to look up at her, to pull away from the page.

“What? Oh.” He looked down at the open book in his lap. Her own was kept steady with her palm to its spine. “No, it’s fine.” Silence, for a beat. A pause. “It’s okay. It’s — this is George’s favorite.” He goes back to reading. 

She’d figured as much. The copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray that he’d shown up with was obviously well-loved: the spine cracked and pressed white, yellowing pages littered with pencil markings. Toye treats it like a landmine, like it's liable to break completely in his hands.

She presses back her smile and looked down at her own copy, newly bought. “Alright.” She murmurs, and that's that. 

---

They’d moved in maybe a year and a half ago, and the only reason she knew who either of them were at all was because she’d tripped down the last two steps outside of her own building and the one with two legs had seen her and helped her back up and to her own place.

The rest didn’t really matter, and she found it rather boring. What matters is that she invited the one with two legs up for dinner as a form of gratitude and he’d shown up with the one with one leg that looked a little rougher around the edges and that was that.

---

The one with two legs was Luz, who worked every day, and the other one was Toye, who worked every three days. On Fridays, Toye would come over for her self proclaimed book club with whatever she’d deigned best to read.

“I think it’s a load of crock.” She tells Toye on one of these Fridays, flipping through her pick of the week distastefully. “Overall written alright, but underall it’s garbage. What a worthless read.”

Toye is always generous enough not to mention that she’s always the one to choose the books. “I think there could be a point to it.” He says, always hoarser than she’d think he’d sound, and he talks so very little that she should probably be less tetchy. Still, bad habits are hard to break, and she scoffs.

“Yeah, and what would that be? Fate or God’s plan? Because neither seem to be good and neither are anything close to happening, no matter how much you pray.” She flipped through another few pages disdainfully. Toye’s own copy sat carefully in his lap, and he deigned not to touch it, tapping his fingers instead against the wood of the crutch that stayed across his lap.

“I don’t know.” He said, glanced out of her window. She knew why, and didn’t have to follow his gaze. The only reason that Luz had seen her at all when she had fallen was because they lived directly across from each other, right down to the building's story and window make. “There’s a testament to things falling into place.”

There’s something fragile resting along the lines of his face, and she has to pause for a moment, remind herself how utterly young he is. How young the both of them are.

She has a husband in a cemetery she isn’t able to get to anymore, because the streets are too crowded and her knees are too bad, and a son that’s lost forever in the mud in some godforsaken island in the Pacific, and if praying could have prevented that, they’d still be with her. 

She doesn’t say any of that. She watches Toye’s face carefully before huffing and looking back down to her own book. “I want to read another Shakespeare, next.” She says. “I think he’s an overrated rats’ ass, and you can quote me on that.”

---

On the same Friday’s where she hosts book club, Luz will come by after he’s done at wherever he works with some sort of tupperware of something and they’ll eat dinner with her.

She’d never tell them, but it feels less like an embarrassing sort of pity, when one of them only has one leg. 

“I think that he was a hack, God rest his soul.” She tells them one day, because they’ll listen to her, and she was thinking about it earlier, and there wasn’t even Lulu to tell. “I mean, do all you want and bow to him in whatever, but he was a right fool. I think that it was that wife of his that kept him in line, more than anything.”

Luz is smiling into his own bowl of food, and he’s prone to doing that. He won’t look at her, like he’s worried he’ll burst out laughing if he does, but she doesn’t mind. She came to the conclusion a long time ago that he just likes laughing, and she won’t care much if he does so because of her.

Toye’s always more serious, nods and is able to meet her face and send annoyed looks at the man at his elbow, who usually sits on the floor next to her stuffed armchair. “Eleanor’s a hell of a lady.” He says, and she nods at him, approving.

“She was the real one, if you ask me.” She says, and Luz coughs a bit into his bowl and coughs a bit more lightheartedly when Toye’s hand comes down to shove at his shoulder.

---

On the days that Toye works, and only in the wintertime, Luz sometimes visits by himself.

She has a sneaking suspicion that he’s intimidated by her, in some way, or something about her apartment is off putting. She doesn’t care all that much. He’s a nice enough boy, and he helped her back up the stairs, but she’s always had more of a proclivity for the quiet ones.

In the winter, he tends to be more of one of those himself, paler and usually scruffier than usual.

He looks so on the day that he knocks on her door and when she opens it, he looks like he hasn’t shaved in three days and eaten in six. 

“Dear God.” She says, and steps back from the door to usher him in before he can freeze her apartment. “You look like a transient.”

She never paid much attention to what was going on in the Atlantic, other than the newsreels (which she never went to) and by word of mouth from her friends (which she didn’t have) and newspapers and magazines (which she rarely left the house to get).

Her war, like it was her boy's war, was with the islands, and when he died, her study of it died with him. 

Still, she knew enough to recognize that Europe could get cold and that hollow eyes are often related to that ice. 

Luz doesn’t laugh nearly as much in the wintertime, or smile, and she can’t even get him to crack half of one, even when she deigns to instead criticize Toye, which usually works.

“Oh, for Gods’ sake.” She ends up saying today, hips aching and irritated. “Now I have to waste coffee on you. Perfectly good waste, most of it is going to end up in that… thing, on your face.”

She doesn’t like beards. Never did like it when her boy grew one, said it made him look more grown-up than she’d allow.

Luz still doesn’t smile.

Fifteen minutes later, she sits with him in the overstuffed armchairs and wonders about what boys still find funny when he asks her, quite out of the blue, “What do you do when you miss someone?”

She blinks.

“Well, I’m sad about it.” She says, and when Luz just stares down at the mug she’d pushed onto him, rather desolate looking, she sighs and tries to think of something else to say. “I get angry. Or I knit. Or I look through my photos. Missing someone isn’t a glove. Why?”

Luz huffs, but it isn’t exactly happy. She doesn’t like it when Toye has to leave. He always seems happier, when the other one is around. The creases around his eyes aren’t so frustratingly deep.

“Nothing.” He says, and his voice is hoarse. “Just thinking about people who’re gone.”

She watches him, critical. God, she hopes he shaves before she sees him again. It’s really just improper. 

“They never found my son's body.” She tells him. “Or they did, and they lied to me. Either way, he left and he’s gone and I barely have anything of him but what I remember and what he wore. So you find things that help you do more than obsess over those things.” She thinks of Lulu, of her soft fur and the way that she’d lick at her face. “And that’ll be gone before you know it, too, so you have to appreciate it all. You can’t afford to stop loving things in the world just because someone you love is no longer in it.”

She stares back down at her cup. 

Luz clears his throat, and when she looks up, he cracks half of a smile at her awkwardly. His eyes are dark, there isn’t much light there. “Thank you.” He says, and she wishes she hadn’t told him about her boy. Still, she feels warm.

“Good god, child.” She says, anyways. “Go home and shave. You look like some sort of Hungarian.”

Luz doesn’t laugh, but looks like he might have, if it wasn’t wintertime.

---

Later on in the same night, they’re up later than they usually are, and she only knows it because she’s trying to get through a chapter for book club on Friday and she can see their silhouettes through their lit up window, light and orange and slightly blurry.

She doesn’t watch them for long, doesn’t want to pry.

Luz’s arms are around Toye’s neck, his face dropped down to his shoulder. Toye’s arms are wrapped fully around him, maybe more for balance than anything else. The way they’re turning, it looks like they're dancing. She wonders to what music.

She used to dance like that, with her husband. That was how she taught her boy, as he stood on top of her shoes and she held his little hands. 

She shuffles back over to the armchair and goes back to reading her book. She doesn’t like this one either.

---

One day, she thinks they might be arguing. 

Toye comes over on a Thursday night, instead of a Friday, and looks rather tired. It’s springtime, which is why she’s more hesitant about letting him in, but he’s shaved, so she allows it.

“Could I stay over for the night?” He asks her, voice raspy. “I’d – I hate to ask, but—”

She squints at him. “You’re the one with one leg.” She says. “Shouldn’t he be leaving?” Toye coughs. He shifts on his crutches, glances vaguely over his shoulder in a way that makes him look rather guilty.

“No, it’s—” He starts, and cuts himself off. “I want him to stay in the apartment.” He looks vaguely embarrassed. She squints at him again, but in the end just starts moving back towards her armchair.

“Fine.” She says. “I like you better than I like him, anyways.”

---

She tosses a bunch of moth-eaten blankets from the closet onto the floor and tells Toye good luck with standing back up and gets to bed. Toye looks strangely pleased about her rudeness, so she keeps that in mind and makes note to tell him that he needs a haircut tomorrow.

---

Toye stays over the whole day and helps her with small things and she tells him that he needs a haircut, and needs to shave, and needs to go outside more, and needs to get a better job, and needs better crutches, and should wear his fake leg more often, and a dozen other things before they sit down to read and do so for hours.

Book club lasts much longer than it usually does, but when there’s the usual knock at the door, albeit more tentative, Toye looks up and looks, again, so painfully young that she sort of wants to smack him for it.

She doesn’t. She pushes to her feet and complains the whole way to the door.

Luz doesn’t have food, and he barely says hello, just looks right past her to Toye, says in a soft, hoarse voice that she thinks means that he’s been smoking and that he wants to talk.

She looks from him, to Toye, to him again, and decides to stay out of it. “Get out of here, the both of you.” She says. “And clean up, before I see you again. You both have jobs, you know.”

---

She doesn’t see them for maybe three or four days after that, doesn’t even see them entering or exiting their own building. She wonders if one or both of them are sick, but thinks they might just be locked up in their own apartment for some godforsaken reason. 

They don’t emerge for days and Luz is the first one that she sees, looking more relaxed than he has since the wintertime. He waves at her, but doesn’t spend too much time outside. Just pitches a cigarette over his shoulder and skips back up to the apartment, and that’s the last she sees of either of them for another two days. 

She supposes they’ve made up.

---

She only goes over to their apartment once. 

It’s alright. Rather homely.

There’s only one chair in the sitting room, which is rather ridiculous, though every time she’s seen him, Luz usually insists on sitting on the floor, so she supposes that may be a part of it. The kitchen is small, rather boring. A whiteboard sits on top of the fridge, tracking something by tally marks that she’s not privy to knowing. They don’t let her into either of the bedrooms, and she doesn’t care much to investigate.

“You, uh.” Luz tells her awkwardly, hands in his pockets, mouth quirked up in his forever-grin. “We could start eating here, if you’d like.”

She wrinkles her nose at the cracked open fire escape and the dishes in the sink and the crooked blanket on the chair. “I’m quite alright.” She says, and decides not to come back. 

(There’s one of those song-players on a table off to the side, however. It looks more expensive than anything else in the apartment. Underneath it is a basket, and the only vinyl she’s able to make out is one of Billie Holliday.

Ugh. Figures.)

---

They come over every Friday for two years and she sees them more often than that, and as soon as something changes, she can tell immediately. It annoys her.

She knows right off the bat because Toye’s wearing his prosthetic, which he never does, and Luz is shaved, which doesn’t matter much, because his hair is still much too long. 

“Where’s the house at?” She asks him, after barely another two minutes, because she’s connected the dots and doesn’t want to wait for them to be explained to her. 

Luz is the one, for once, to pause. Toye turns to look at him, face doing the same sort of lined, barely held back guarded emotion that it often throws up around the other man before he looks back at her, hesitates.

“It’s, uh.” He says. She sighs, wants to tell him to knock it off with the pausing. “In Bedford. It’s—”

He keeps talking, and she deigns to ignore him to instead watch Luz, the way he looks at Toye. It’s the same sort of emotion, barely lined, making him heavier.

She wonders if her boy got to care so much about someone, before he was killed.

“Alright.” She says, maybe with a sigh, holds up a hand and decides that’s that. She’ll miss book club, but if she truly gave a rats ass, she’d join a real one. Maybe she will, now. “Make sure you pack enough. And shave. You have jobs.” 

Toye’s smile is a crooked curve, and Luz’s takes over his whole face. She looks at both of them, unimpressed. 

“Write to me, if you want.” She says. “Or visit. God knows I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s not, either. Maybe she’ll get another Lulu.

---

They leave on a Wednesday, which annoys her only because it’s such a random day to leave somewhere, with some sort of boring car packed with trunks in the middle of the summer.

She watches from the steps of her own building, arms crossed, and gives them advice on how to best stack the luggage, which they don’t follow. 

“They’re all going to fall out and you’ll be left with broken and dirty things, and then you’ll see who’s in the right.” She tells Toye, who’s closer, annoyed. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t say anything.

Luz looks back at them and smiles, but she knows he’s not looking at her.

---

She stands on the steps until it’s time for them to leave, and she hates dilly-dallying, so she rushes through the goodbyes by patting Luz’s cheek and grimacing at the stubble there. He looks like he might laugh at her. 

She lets Toye get a step further and give her half of a hug, which she’s also not a fan of but allows anyways.

He watches her with those careful, dark eyes and says, very punctually, “Thanks, Moira.”

She waves him off. “You should be thanking me for trying to help you with the luggage.” She says, pointed. “Off you go. Get a dog. God knows there’s enough of them running around.”

From a few feet behind Toye, Luz laughs. 

---

She can see their silhouettes, as they get in the car. Can see what looks like Toye kissing Luz on the cheek. She grimaces.

It must have been a horrid kiss. He never does shave enough.

[alfiely-art]

FINISHED ACT 2!!!! I promise I'm taking my time

Act 1 live reaction here

Here are notes I took while reading!!!

Hi vagabond fella… you're cute

Huh. So the world ended. Okay

Happy birthday john, you fucked up!!!! My god!!!!

Oh interesting… wonder if the kernel will come back later

I like this sprite lmaoooo silly guy

“It's a long way down” Hey. Hey wait a sec. Isn't that deltarune

HEY THE BUNNY WHERE DID IT GO

Bro Rose probably thinks you're dead lmfaooooo

House trapped. LIKE THE TITLE HOMESTUCK DO U GET IT

Am I supposed to ignore the Stop Scurrying button btw. He will scurry to my hearts content

HEY WHERES DAD.

“Would you like to play a game?” C…caliborn….? :3

We scurried until we couldn't scurry anymore

Aw he's scared :( WALK ACROSS IT ur fine…

A voice?? Is it the blue text. The sprite

OMG ITS THE VAGABOND!!!!

Sorry rose I'm not reading allat

So wait. Did the game cause the meteors or is it just saving people from them. Why was there no warning

Betty crocker is born /j

Nvm sprite said No <3

NOT NANNAS ASHESSSSS LMAOOOO

“Hoo-hoo-hoo” HEY I SAW CALIBORN GIGGLE LIKE THAT IN A FIC. I know the Striders have more to do with Caliborn but let me reach

OH its the sprite

Dave. Honey. Nows not the time for your rap

Which admittedly has fun rhymes

AW FLUCK IT

Dave what are you yapping about

THE FUCKIHG CAR OH MY GOD

DAVE OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU STILL GOING

Fluthlu… I love you

I'm not even gonna try to spell that but I like the other squid octopus creature as well

Oglogoth… goth !!!!

Hey wait. The horror terrors are part of sburb. Is the game influenced by their lives and interests. Like. Deltarune

OH PSYCHE!!! hi Dave

Sword!!!!!!

Wow your room is really mHEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS. THATS THE FELT GUYS. SQUAREWAVE AND RHE OTHER ROBOT. I KNOW THOSE ONES!!!!! OHHHHHH

Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable

Oh Dave. Oh Dave

Hey wait is this earlier in the day.

Okay this is definitely earlier in the day

Aw. He doesn't wanna make satire of the sburb review

FUCK IM FALLING DOWN ALL THESE STAIRS……

Is that. John's hand???? what the fuck is happening in midnight crew

Flagrant Homosexuality

YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT WHITE BABY (I was told that they use slurs, slur count 2!!!!)

Her life depends on you playing that game Dave

Ewwww what's the shit under the door

It's okay Dave piss probably isn't that bad. It's also probably Apple juice You're fine

HE GOT PISS/JUICE ON HIS TURNTABLES NOOOOOO

. They're gonna fly out the window

OH MY GOD BIRD NO

Wait. Davesprite is a bird with a sword in him. Omg is that bird the beginning of Davesprite omg!!!!

Wizard

Rose and her mom are fucking weird

MOM!!!!!

Hardcore parkour

Jade be telling the future…. Why can she do that

LIL CAL MENTION

NARRATOR YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT (slur count: 3)

Ironic Indulgence

Btw. Are you able to. Win the strifes. I'm so confused

“Fine, you'll interrupt your reading and turn around, but you don't see what could possibly be so oh my god it's a monster.” Hi this is absolute gold this is how I type

John died :(

Yay he's alive!!!

YOOOOO SICKKKK AFFFFF MOVE

John is such a nerd I love him

JASPERS NOOO

Hi Nanna harlequin sprite

Dave is very suddenly creeped out by the puppets, okay. Don't diss Lil cal bro

Baked good hater for Life!!! Also I am just like John I have absolutely no idea what Nannasprite was talking about. We r along for the ride

HUMAN ETIQUETTE WOOOO I NEED THAY BOOK

Jade why do you know all this stuff

Haha Dave's an emoji

IS THAT A DRIPPED OUT SLAPPY

HI CAL HI BABYGIRL !!!! I like Cal he's the man

Sweet Bro n Hella Jeff is. I

Cals eyes are so shiny

HAHAHAHAH JOHN MADE A SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF REFERENCE. I can't

U and me both Rose. We Are giggling

John died again

What the fuck is happening at Dave's house

ROSE RAP ROSE RAP

WHSJSHSJSH THE LITTLE IMP????

What the fuck is happening

I WANT TO PLAY A GAME is this a caliborn reference. Anyway uhhh Bro is kinda weird what's going on with him

Why does he have a camera in the saw guy figurine. Bro. What's uh up with you

BRO REALLY IS A NINJA…. Whys he jusy moving Cal around

Dave. I know you said your Bro is awesome but I think he's just really weird. He's silly

I do think it's interesting. John doesn't like his dad even though his dad is great (worst thing is he ignores that his kid doesn't like betty crocker goods). Rose hates her mom, but.. for like, the wrong reasons?? Like yeah her mom’s an alcoholic and seems neglectful but she doesn't seem to do the Irony shit Rose says she does. And then Dave seems to think Bro is the absolute best even though. This is not a great situation. I wonder what Jade's family is like

Also John and Rose avoid their parents but Dave's Bro seems to avoid Dave. interesting

Anyway POOR DAVE HE GOT SMOOSHED

Hey that letter is the same as the one in the trans dirk comic I saw :0

NOOO I WANTED TO SEE BRO

Yoooo John that's a cool weapon actually

That's a big boy right there what a big boy

ROSE THE FIRE ITS AT UR WINDOW

YO WAS THAT SILHOUETTE JADE?!?!?! JADE YAAA

Big boy!!!!!!

HEY I WAS INVESTED IN SEEING JOHN FIGHT. Oh at least we can see Bro. Wait how's Rose

??? JADE???

OOP NOPE. VAGABOND

What the fuck is happening I

vagabond is so silly I like him

Hey guys I think a king hurt vagabond. Just a guess. Probably reaching idk /j

VAGABOND PISS SCENE ?!?!?! YIPPEE!!!

Oh nvm. Btw can we get this guy a burger

HES SO HAPPY OVER THE. idk what that is DANGANRONPA BLOOD IN A CAN!!!!!!

HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE ON THESE SCREENS BTW. Wait I'm shouting so much. But what the fuck. Dave has his sprite??? Yay???? I thought he was gonna fight Bro??? What happened to Lil Cal???

Hey isn't that Jade's symbol on the pumpkin

Yooo that's such a cool cutscene actuHUH HOW IS IT THE END OF THE ACT AGAIN

The frick….

Anyway. Thoughts: I like Vagabond. Jade is mysterious. Dave gay. Bro creepy. Someone pls save Rose. John you gotta put your big boy pants on and fight those ogres. Good act!!! idk why people say the pre-trolls stuff is boring I'm enjoying myself

[ageless-aislynn]

Aislynn's Absolute Screaming, Crying, Flailing Thinky Thoughts About Halo s2ep8

Under the cut since its the finale and I don't want to be That Person who spoils a finale for anybody if I can help it 💖

First thing: KAI, my baby, noooooooooo

Okay, do I love the Halo games? So much. So, so much. Did I know what actually adapting them would mean would happen in the live action show, especially since s2 clearly wanted to pull closer to the games? Yep.

Did I want to see characters I've come to love, appreciate or love to hate get infected by the Flood? HECK NO.

However, the fact that the Flood spores were much smaller than their game counterparts (Evil Cabbages with feet were my initial thought of them when I met them in Combat Evolved the first time 😂🤷‍♀️😉) was a definite win, IMO. Obviously they couldn't be germ-sized in game and you be able to shoot them. But just the visual of them being smaller and much more virus/germ-sized made them a bazillion times scarier because they felt more real in that way to me.

Why do I watch so many zombie things? Zombies FREAK ME OUT SO BAAAAAD, MAN. And the body horror, dude. Ohhhhh, I can't with the body horror and people getting mutated and... UGH. Yet I've made, like, half a dozen Alien/Prometheus vids. I AM A CONUNDRUM, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️😂

Now, ever since Vannak died, I've been trying to figure out how we can, you know, bring him back to the show. I still don't know how it could actually be done but one thing I do know is that KAI COULD TOTALLY BE FOUND INJURED BUT ALIVE. Her Mjolnir can protect her from deep space, so it could have totally protected her against a big KABOOM, too. Her body is intact, she wasn't vaporized or whatever, so that's my story and I'm sticking to it. *nodnods very seriously*

I think I'm going to have to either invent time travel or cloning to save Vannak, though. Give me a minute. 🤔😉

If we do get another season (or 2 or 5 😉), I'm wondering if they're really serious about Silver Team being gone, if we're going to get Blue Team, then? Mannnnn, I don't want Silver to be gone, though. I've fallen so in love with Kai, Riz and Vannak now, too!

I'm kinda glad that not-Thel!Arbiter wasn't Thel because that was a good ending to his storyline, with Chief's "I know what he said" and finishing him off. Obs, though, I don't want Thel to have met the same fate.

Makee's line about being a demon, too? That was a good one, yep. Still annoyed that John's first question to her last ep wasn't "Um, hi, nice to see you and how is it that you're alive?" That being unanswered was just one of those clearly "because we changed showrunners," things.

John and Cortana (now in his suit), together again, YESSSSS!!!

Hello, Guilty Spark! If this is Gravemind they're talking about, they NEED Dee Bradley Baker for the voice. Just, no question, don't even think of casting anybody else.

John doing that badass "fight through the smoke and haze to save the day" made my fangirl heart go pitter-pat, what can I say? I'm easy to please, lol!

In summary, I did love s2 in a different way than I loved s1 and I hope we'll get news of a renewal ASAP!

Also, Kai's fine, she's just having a little nap, no worries!

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hey, I'd love a matchup for Castlevania, if you're up for it (was not the person who wrote you those ask anons btw, although I appreciate them clearing things up).

I’m a heterosexual cis woman, although I’m starting to suspect I’m on the asexual spectrum. So, I'd prefer a male matchup. Also not super sure I'd be down with polygamy.

I'm a premed student (no time for irl dating unfortunately 😭). I also work as a volunteer EMS on weekends. Outside of my school and work my hobbies are singing (musical theatre and classical mostly), theatre (backstage work as well as performing), skiing (the only sport I’m any good at) and TTRPGs (was this close to getting my group to play a Castlevania campaign 😔).

I’m also a big nerd about history, American comics, and folklore. I’ll rant for hours about my special interests if nobody stops me. I’d describe myself as ambiverted. I'm socially awkward, but also very loud and expressive. I’m a bit oblivious, I’ll admit lol, but I do my best. My MBTI is ESTJ, and while I doubt MBTI's accuracy, I agree I’m very Type A. When it comes to the things I’m good at, I’m a major perfectionist, but I’m proud of how hard I work. I think my greatest weakness is probably thoughtlessness, but my greatest strength is humility.  My giving love language is acts of service, and my receiving love language is quality time. I'm verbally affectionate towards friends but I freeze like a deer in headlights if somebody flirts with me. Also: I know appearance isn’t super important, but I think it’s important to know I’m only around 5’0 tall. As my friends say, "headpat size."

A/N: Okay for you my PreMed Student Anon (that’s amazing, congratulations by the way!)I have two potential matches in mind. You said you’re heterosexual and would prefer male results, so I chose two from that gender because I honestly couldn’t decide which would please you best. For you, I’m thinking either Dracula or Alucard would be your perfect romantic matchups! (It really does just come down to which man you’d like better: father or son, lol.) 

Dracula (Vlad Tepes), as terrifying as he may be when he decides to enact justice on the human population, is a very reserved and intellectual man. He’s introverted and devoted much of his life to learning about anything and everything from medicine to history to poetry. 

In this instance let’s pretend he’s either never met Lisa or he did meet and fall in love with Lisa but she either lived a full life and died of natural causes, or Dracula was able to overcome the anger and blame he held for humanity following her murder.

Dracula is a patient man. Being immortal means he understands that you must dedicate much of your time to your studies and your volunteer work. So long as the few moments you do get to spend with him are uninterrupted and meaningful, I believe he’d be understanding, and even supportive of your academic endeavors. He was more than happy to aid Lisa in her quest to learn more about biology, so I have no doubt he’d do similarly for you. Any questions you have, he’d gladly answer them. Any resource he has in his castle, any book or scroll, any record of any kind is yours to inspect. He has no doubts that you’re going to make a very accomplished professional one day, and he has every intention of doing whatever it takes to help you get there.

Along with that patience comes an understanding that sex is not the end all be all in life. Sure, it has its place for either pleasure or reproduction but it doesn't need to dominate relationships. If sex is something you're hesitant about, or against having, it doesn't make much difference to him. Dracula would be fine without sleeping with you, so long as he can have you in other ways. Holding you close, holding your hand, sitting next to you in front of a warm fire- those things are what make him feel close to your heart. 

Dracula also enjoys how animated you get when you go on rants about your special interests. He’s very versed in history and folklore as well, although not American comics, so he would listen intently as you teach him all you know. 

As an ESTJ, you would be very grounding for him (an INTJ), while still having a great deal in common. The both of you value an intellectual connection in a relationship while your more empathetic, extroverted side would help push him to see the truth of humanity where he may previously have only seen things in shades of black and white. You both strive for the best, and that suits you just fine with your perfectionism, but do be warned, there may be times you don’t see eye to eye. What you hold as most important in an issue or debate may be different than what he holds. Remember to be patient. INTJs are prone to stubbornness, but being a Type A personality, I do not doubt that you’ll be able to handle any contrary moods of his just fine. 

Your thoughtlessness can also be a source of discourse within the relationship, as Dracula is bound to worry about you. You’re human, you're fragile and under so much pressure. He cares deeply for you and does not want to see you hurt. The one advantage you do have, however, is your humility. It keeps you from being both arrogant and thoughtless which is a much more dangerous combination. So long as you are aware enough of your limits, and keep your wits about you the best you can, Dracula promises to trust you enough to let you come and go as you need to, so long as you’re willing to admit when you need help. But with your best trait being your humility, that shouldn't be a problem. 

Dracula is so touched by your acts of service. Being such an ancient and scary vampire no one ever thought to make him tea or ask if he needed help with anything. He feels so fortunate to have a partner who does not see him solely as ‘Dracula’, Lord of Vampires, but as Vlad Tepes, a man at heart. 

Not to mention your size difference is too adorable for words. He’s so tall and you’re so tiny… He always kneels whenever you ask for a kiss, he’ll never ask you to step on a stool or climb a ladder to reach him. He’s more than happy to come to you. He loves you. You are his new light, his new reason to believe in humanity. 

Alucard (Adrian Tepes) could also be a good match for you! He’s an ambivert like you, although he may not admit it. He’s the son of a scholar and a doctor, so he’s very understanding when it comes to your education and career. And his empathetic nature makes him extremely compatible with your considerate one. 

As Alucard is a dhampir and immortal, this matchup could work in either medieval times or modern times. For the sake of this matchup, imagine whatever you might prefer. 

Alucard hasn’t always had the best experience when it comes to sex. Granted, you can’t judge every potential future experience based on one horrible one, but he’s not the kind of guy who jumps into bed easily. He has reservations and feels very insecure about the whole act. Should he ever engage in it, he’d need a partner who’s very understanding, or just as nervous as he is about the whole thing. In hindsight, I don’t think Alucard would mind not having all that much sex: for him, your continued company means more than any sexual endeavor could. 

Alucard is very impressed with your decision to go into pre med. He knows how much work that means you’re going to be undertaking, and he’ll do whatever he can to support you, either in your studies or in your personal life. He’s very well-read and rather educated on biology as his mother was a physician, so feel free to ask him any questions or have him quiz you before exams. He’s also a bit of an obsessive lover. When he decides he likes someone, he makes a point to memorize that person. (Recall the Trevor and Sypha dolls?) He wants to know what you think and why you think it. That way, he can anticipate your thoughts or needs. 

And he does quite enjoy it when you sing to him, especially if you sing him to sleep. Sleep hasn't always come easy to him, but with your presence and your lovely voice, it’s as if an angel is singing him a lullaby. I also believe Alucard would absolutely thrive playing TTRPG: he’s sarcastic, smart and strategic. I really think he’d dominate any campaign he set his mind to. Plus, it’d be great socialization for him besides you. 

As an ESTJ you’re fairly compatible with Alucard’s INFJ. You’re just extroverted enough to pull him out of his idealistic daydreams, but grounded and predictable enough not to shake his confidence or trust in you/your relationship. The only possible issue is that INFJs can sometimes get caught up in the fantastical destiny of it all: it’s about people and purpose. Whereas ESTJs tend to be a bit more practical- you value reality and stability a bit more than potential and daydreams. But I don’t envision this to be a huge problem, so long as you push communication with Alucard. He internalizes a lot. He’ll need to be reminded to share his inner feelings. So long as you do that, I don’t see any major discourse between you two. 

Alucard may be a little disappointed in your moments of thoughtlessness, but at the same time, he finds them endearing. You try so hard: you’re a perfectionist like he is, and even though you’re only human, you strive for the same greatness. It’s rather admirable. He likes that about you. 

Alucard would also be very touched by your acts of service, mainly because he often finds himself doing the service for others. It’s nice to be taken care of for a change. And he is very happy to spend quality time with you. He’d follow you everywhere if you let him. So long as he’s near you, he feels complete. He’s always leaning down to give you soft forehead kisses whenever you’re around. You’re so precious to him. 

[raina-at]

Mouse

In celebration of this fandom and how much fun I'm having right now, with the May prompts and the fic club, have a bonus ficlet set in my theatre universe . (Another one of my AUs ticked off the list) (short premise for those not familiar: John is a stage manager and Sherlock is an actor. Mary, Molly and Sally are all part of John's crew.)

This is especially for @totallysilvergirl and the members of the Johnlock fic club. You all know why.

Warning, mention of an accidental animal death.

Also, this is loosely based on a true story.

-------

“What on Earth are you doing?”

“Be quiet,” Molly shushes Sherlock as she drags him through the stage door into the green room area.

“Oh thank god.” John sighs in relief as he sees Sherlock enter the room. “Save me from this madness.”

“Sit back down, Watson, this is all your fault after all!” Mary snaps. She’s pregnant again and the glare she gives him is filled with the homicidal rage of the permanently uncomfortable.

John sits back down and sighs. “Okay, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Molly pushes Sherlock into a chair. “You be quiet now, we’ll be done in five minutes.”

Molly sits on Mary’s other side on the floor and takes Sally’s hand, completing the circle.

Mary gestures to Molly. “Do you have the object?”

Molly produces the live mousetrap and puts it in the middle of the pentagram Mary has drawn on the floor. 

“I hate to repeat myself, but what the actual fuck are you doing?” Sherlock asks, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. 

They all turn their heads in surprise, because they all know how rarely Sherlock swears. 

“We’re doing an exorcism,” Molly explains. “John killed a mouse and now we’re haunted.”

“I didn’t, I repeat, DID NOT kill a mouse!” John very nearly yells, sick and tired of this argument. 

“You left the live trap open over a bank holiday weekend,” Mary growls. “The bloody mouse sprung it, died of thirst in it, and ever since we’ve had one accident after another. First my fucking brand new moving head blew on its second night, then Molly twisted her ankle, and yesterday you were nearly hit by a stage wall.”

“So did I understand this correctly? You, rational, adult, competent professionals, had a few easily explained accidents and then came to the inevitable conclusion that you’re being haunted by the angry spirit of a common house mouse?” Sherlock asks, steepling his hands under his chin. 

“Duh,” Molly mutters, rolling her eyes. 

“Anything to say, genius?” Mary asks, glaring at Sherlock in a way that makes John hope that Sherlock will consider the words that come out of his mouth next very, very carefully.

“You need sage,” Sherlock says after a moment of silent contemplation. “And candles.”

“You’re not fucking serious!” John stares at Sherlock as if he’s grown a second head, which would frankly have surprised John just a tiny bit more than the current development. “You’re superstitious? Since when?”

“All actors are superstitious,” Sherlock says, ducking into the tiny theatre kitchen. “It’s the better safe than sorry principle.” He comes back with mixed herb salt and some tealights. “This should do nicely. Budge over.” 

He sits between Sally and Molly and takes their hands.

“This must be what going mad feels like,” John mutters, but he takes Mary’s and Sally’s hands and completes the circle.

Mary shushes him and lights the candles. Then she shakes a bit of the salt over the live trap. She turns to John and gestures to the trap. “Now apologise.”

“But I—”

“I said,” Mary says with a smile sharper than a battleax. “Apologise.”

John clears his throat. “Um.” The thing is, he is sorry. He never meant to cause an animal’s death, even indirectly. They only ever use live traps for a reason. But he feels slightly ridiculous all the same. 

He knows this is necessary, though. Theatres are places where legends and superstitions and rituals live for generations. Case in point, no theatre person in their right mind would ever refer to the Scottish play by its actual name. Case in point, you never say good luck backstage. This is no different, he knows this.

Of course the knowledge doesn’t stop him from feeling completely ridiculous as he says, “I’m sorry, mouse spirit. I didn’t mean for you to die. Please forgive us and stop haunting our theatre. We’re really sorry.”

He puts a piece of cheese into the trap, and every member of his crew follows suit. Sherlock contributes another sprinkle of the herbal salt, and then Mary, in lieu of setting the trap on fire, which would trigger the smoke alarm, bashes it in with a cricket bat. It’s horribly loud, but the trap is unusable afterwards.

“Be at peace, little mouse,” Molly whispers, and John can see the tears in her eyes.

They all share a long look over the mouse trap, and then they burst out laughing.

“You’re all insane,” Sherlock says, but he’s laughing as well, and there’s a lot of affection in his voice.

“Yup,” John answers, still giggling a bit. This is my crew, he thinks. Dangerously foul-tempered, certifiably insane, scarily silly at times. And I couldn’t love them more for it. He looks at Sherlock, who’s watching him with sparkling eyes and so much unguarded affection, and he smiles. “And you fit right in.”

----

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @catlock-holmes @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra @friday411 @inevitably-johnlocked