#kept saying i needed to post this and then continually proceeded not to post it

[cosmicangst]

bugs in amber

prompt/summary: He had built an algorithm out of his rage. Rage could execute his body with purpose and focus his vision on one solid vector of machine logic. 

But it was these moments he made monuments of, encompassing and embracing around his calcified grief. They could stiffen his knees into worship, nail his feet to the bedrock of the earth with warmth and affection and love and render it impossible for him to move ever again.

Ko is determined to make good on his revenge. That doesn’t mean they’ll make it easy.

(A non-linear character study in fragments heavily inspired by Slaughterhouse-Five and written for the @pp10thtribute zine.)

note: Also please check out this fantastic paired piece by @lucidink!

+

“To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.”

Anne Carson, Red Doc>

“Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.”

Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

*

The thing is: he doubts Sasayama had much time to consider his life flashing before his eyes when he was dismembered.

It must have hurt beyond hell, he thinks. Sasayama’s brain must have receded into the baser impulses of stopping the pain and insisting upon the next breath.

So his mourners, alive and decidedly not dying in the immediate next moment, consider his life for him with the humanity and time he wasn’t afforded.

They don’t hold formal ceremonies for dead Enforcers. Kunizuka hosts a drinking session in her room with others who had known the man well. He can practically hear her subdued yet insulting toast about the bastard followed by raucous laughter from the others.

In his room, Kogami labors. 

The truth is: Ko can no longer remember what Sasayama looks like based on memory alone. He only appears intact in photographs. He keeps one of the man—grinning, alive, and joyous. The others are very much not.

Sasayama’s plasticized statue secretes patterns, motivations, and agendas in the twists of its limbs and the macabre hollows of its eyes. Kogami observes even as he relives.

He doesn’t recall exactly what happened that night. But ironically, he swears his own life had flashed before him. 

Not his memories, but, rather, what would come after. Almost like steps, instructions of where he would go, what he would do after this. His entire life laid out in a linear strip, cutting off just after the part where he would enact justice for the way they made Sasayama resort to the indignities of a dying animal. 

Like his future had arrived into the present and that it had come—it will only ever come—to this.

*

And so it does.

A part of Ko had always acted as an audience to his actions. Or worse, Enobarbus himself caught between narrator and character on the eve of his death, simultaneously living and telling a story that was already set in the past at the same time it was happening.

The second he pulls the trigger, audience and narrator intertwine knee-deep in déjà vu. Like he had already done this before, over and over, and would continue to do so the day after. 

In some ways, the profundity of something like fate arriving at his heels is so overwhelming that he wants to dry heave. Finally, he thinks, but after—

The blood coagulates, the wind whistles, leaving silence long after the echoes of the shot have gone and his ears have stopped ringing. 

So in other ways, it feels like any other Thursday. 

It is so mundane and banal it feels a little anticlimactic. The world should have stopped here, he thinks like a confused, petulant child.

He’d read enough tragedies to expect the catharsis. The moment of resolution in laying down the weight of his labor, making good on his vow as his final offering to lay Sasayama’s wandering spirit to rest.

But it is a Thursday, he has just killed Makishima, and somehow, he is still in this body with its old aches, his stomach hollow from a missed lunch, his head throbbing with an incoming migraine. 

Somehow, he’s still him. 

A long embattled victor in front of his fated adversary’s loss, and all he can think of is Masaoka, similarly leaking his life onto the floor. He looks beyond where Gino had clutched his dead father and wonders if the foregone rules of the narrative had warranted a loss for a win. All he can think is that he is here instead of there and the utter ambivalence of it—the fact that there is more to continue and to lose—is more staggering than what he has just done. 

This is what dislodges his feet.

Life moves on.

So it goes.

*

And so it does.

He is running now, losing count of the seconds.

But he has a plan even if it had been made with some irony that surely he wouldn’t reach this point to worry about the logistics. Surely, he wouldn’t have made it this far. He’d arranged his supposed escape and felt it ridiculous and utterly serious.

Because absurdly he wants it. He wants it so bad his teeth ache. He wants to see what he can improvise, what could come after even if he can’t imagine it. 

Akane probably could. Maybe even with her disillusion, she would still understand and imagine a better continuation for him.

The thought keeps his legs steady. His lungs ache but it barely warrants acknowledgment as his calves burn and keep him onward and on, feet pounding onto the dirt and through the grass—

“Got you, you little freak.”

That he hadn’t registered the approaching footsteps from behind douses him with a sickly feeling before it’s replaced by a force more resounding in its sudden appearance than any actual impact.

Oh, he spoke too soon, didn’t he—

The side of his left cheek burns when the force throws a punch and starts pummeling the soft, fleshy parts of his face. But even his harder edges—parts like his forehead, his cheekbone—feel susceptible to the molding hands of his opponent’s artistry. He lifts his stick-thin arms feebly in defense and the base level of his brain triggers his tear ducts. He hasn’t cried in two decades. And the humiliation, the fear, the pain, the weariness, the utter failure—

Oh, fuck you, he is so tired of being on the floor. 

And it is a bit like slipping into the roles of audience and narrator, his own individual god, witnessing his body retaliating. His opponent is stronger but the rage of futility hasn’t stopped those stick arms from reaching and arching knuckles into claws. 

Children rarely have compunctions for boundaries they’ve yet to be taught. But he thinks even if he wasn’t a child that nothing could have stopped him from doing this.

He plunges his fingers into his bully’s eyes and the boy screams like panicked quarry. The only reason why he stops from progressing further is from the saving grace of their teacher who has arrived just in time.

“Kogami Shinya!”

An even larger body pulls him away, caging squirming limbs in its arms. And he thrashes because that’s what he does when he’s six and in the throes of an anger fugue.

He doesn’t think he even recognizes where he is until Mama arrives. They keep him out of the office as they talk, which is stupid because what information would they need to shield him from when he was literally there doing the thing they’re talking about in the first place.

Grown-ups are so stupid. 

“Shinya, let’s go home.”

Mama’s carefully held body is standing by the doorway. Her face is a pacific mask. 

Well, shit.

Shinya clings even as he squirms to escape. Anger and adrenaline seep out until he is dead on his feet. He’s still young enough to indulge Mama carrying him to their car without shame. But he glares at his classmates clamoring to rubberneck the scrap that had toppled the Goliath of their year. And the defeated himself encircled by his entourage, face adorned with bandages—but his eyes, unblinking and set on him.

He’s not blind, Ko thinks with disappointment. But in the other’s gaze was something better: a tightening in recognition of a better predator. And injured but victorious cub in his mother’s arms rumbles with satisfaction as she tucks him behind a seatbelt and drives away.

The week after his suspension, there are no more looks. Quite the opposite, it seems as if everyone is doing everything but look.

His spine stiffens as he walks to class, aware that there is a berth of at least five feet between him and another person. No one stares but he can feel how carefully they don’t do it.

Later at lunch, he confronts his lone friend, another loser just as scrawny as he is.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he demands.

The boy looks frightened before defensiveness compels him to raise his head. “Everyone saw what you did, Shinya.”

“So? Wasn’t that the point? Wasn‘t that what we wanted?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”

His stomach clenches. And here at such a young age, he starts seeing the line between himself and others. The way they separate from him and alienate without having to say more.

Someone had to do it. What choice did he have after weeks of torment? After watching them push the weak ones onto the dirt? Did they expect him to lie down and take it?

“Can you please just leave me alone?” 

Ko watches in silence as the other boy uncouples from his gravity and joins the rest of the flock.

*

Mama never ends up lecturing him about it. Instead, she starts taking him to judo lessons. On weekends, she teaches him kendo.

The only thing she will say about it is an adage: “Never start a fight that you cannot finish.”

Ko is initially offended. Did Mama think he was so incapable and weak?

It is only as he grows that he realizes that it was never about starting. She had been worried that he would never finish, never stop once he started.

When he saves another boy, in another time and another place, he begins to think her worries are founded. Unlike the first time, Gino does not take advantage of Ko’s honed skills and protectiveness as Ko tackles the other boy’s bully onto the floor. 

They become friends. He can’t regret it since Gino looks at him like he’s not a live wire. 

Like he’s a person. Like he’s good.

So when Gino declares his intentions to follow in his old man’s footsteps, Ko follows, too.

“Are you certain?”

His voice is wry. “I’m hurt. You don’t think I’d be good at police work?”

“On the contrary,” Gino bristles, perpetually prickly when teased. “You’re good at a lot of things. You could be anything you want. I don’t see why you have to take such a hard route.”

Gino sounds so sure that Ko is a little embarrassed. He’ll never admit but a romantic 17-year-old version of him obsessed with Beat authors does entertain notions of being a novelist.

But contrary to Gino’s perceptions of his talent, he’s never had the kind of head for creation. Nor the hands. They’d only ever been good to crush, break, and deconstruct. 

He feels like a walking, talking cliché.

Perhaps if he analyzed further, he’d indulge the possibility of his interest in literature as compensation for a perceived lack. Even then, what would he do with the realization? Best to leave originality with those who have more poetry in their souls, like Tsubasa or Kunizuka.

This is why it is all the more baffling when Akane remarks upon seeing his physical book collection, “You have so many. Have you ever considered writing one?”

He’s flabbergasted but doesn’t show it. “Don’t have the spirit for that kind of work.”

“Are you serious? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as willful as you.”

“Is that another word for stubborn?”

She laughs. “I feel like the whole world could bend and you’d be the only one still standing straight. What does an artist require more than conviction in their individuality?”

Imagination, he wants to say but he keeps silent. The indulgent part of him wants to laugh as well but not for the same reasons.

The less generous part is tempted to disappoint her on purpose, redirect her admiration to someone else. Not necessarily because he’s particularly self-hating but because he knows the truth of what he deserves.

Sometimes, Akane could very well be a mirror image of his younger self in all her earnestness, naïveté, and drive. But even at this age, she is more than he could ever strive to be. Akane can see possibilities in anything and anyone. She can will alternative realities into existence, her imagination surpassing beyond his own.

He doesn’t know how to tell her or Gino that he’s never known how to diverge and make his own path. He’s looked ahead enough to know that there has only ever been one possibility for him. His own will no longer has anything to do with it.

Once he starts, he cannot stop. Once he begins, he will never finish.

*

Sometimes his anger forgets.

Any extreme emotion is hard to sustain at its peak constantly. It comes in waves, and what remains when it recedes far enough is the periphery of everything else happening.

Kagari invites him to eat something other than the pre-made lifeless offerings in the cafeteria.

In a rare moment of stillness, he silently watches the old man paint an entire landscape.

Kunizuka asks a question about office gossip he’d referenced offhandedly in the paddy wagon on the way back to headquarters.

Aoyanagi and Karanomori squabble with him about the stupidity of a newly released sitcom during a lunch break.

Sometimes after a particularly hard day, he’ll catch Gino’s eye long enough to see something there that isn’t just careful detachment or barely concealed resentment. Like they forget they aren’t supposed to recognize each other, both too mutually exhausted from the same bullshit of everyday inanities to keep the pretense of Inspector Ginoza and Enforcer Kogami.

And just as quickly as it appears, it is all swallowed up when the wave returns.

*

“Has your memory always been fractured since the incident?”

Ko’s gaze is steady. “I’ve never been good at remembering anyway.”

The doctor smiles benignly as if gleaning some hidden truth from the off-handed way Ko has adopted to speak to officials and people with any kind of authority.

“You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you encounter some blank spots or confusion. PTSD is a very complex diagnosis, and recovery for Inspectors who’ve managed to turn their hue around has been an equally complex journey.”

“I can imagine.”

Another smile. Ko tags it as genuine. He’d feel bad for the guy if he didn’t hate the entire farce of this in the first place. His title as an Inspector is a sham of a formality at this point. It’s only a matter of time before he slips and careens forward.

“Anything you want to share with me before we start?”

“Nothing in particular.”

He takes a beat as if to give Ko all the opportunity to change his mind. “All right. How’ve you been sleeping the past week?”

“Well enough.”

“What about your dreams?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t dream.”

*

“That’s bullshit, dude.”

“What’s bullshit?”

“Ko says he doesn’t dream.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t.”

“I don’t.”

“Everyone dreams,” Kagari insists, voice garbled with chewed popcorn.

“How do you know?” Kunizuka says from her perch on Kagari’s beanbag, strumming absently in tune with the movie score. Ko distantly watches the action on the screen. They’ve screened this film for the fourth time that month at Kagari’s insistence.

He knows the mindless explosions and cheesy dialogue by heart. So does Kagari but he reacts like this is the first time he’s watched this movie. 

“Holy shit! Did you see that!” He stuffs another fist of popcorn into his mouth. “Anyway, everyone dreams. If you think you don’t, you probably just don’t remember it when you wake up.”

He and Kunizuka continue to bicker good-naturedly. Ko does not have the heart to tell them about his night terrors. The way he wakes with his heart in his throat, ready to crawl and leap out of his chest. 

He can never recall visuals clearly but the sensations, the visceral physical reaction of his body in the middle of a mental break imprint the cartography of his skin and veins like muscle memory.

His recollection is shot, but he carries souvenirs anyway. Perhaps he does not even have to say anything. Kagari and Kunizuka must have souvenirs of their own. 

Onscreen, the supporting man explodes in a fiery inferno after pushing the main hero’s love interest out of the way.

“Why are we watching this again,” Kunizuka grimaces. But it’s rhetorical; they don’t talk about the Division 3 Enforcer who’d hit the ground spine first from up the roof during a scuffle earlier that week. Ko does not bring up the subsequent way in which Kagari has been acting recklessly, almost with relish at his mortality in the following days. They don’t hold formal ceremonies for dead Enforcers so this was the next best thing for someone Kagari considered a friend.

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” Kagari pipes up. He takes a swig of beer.

“To get caught in a gas explosion?” Kunizuka plays along dryly.

“To die in a way more meaningful than how you lived.”

“I think I’ll stick with dying of old age, thanks,” she says after a brief, painful pause.

“What about you, Ko? How’d you like to leave?”

He doesn’t even take a beat. “In my bed. With a really good book.”

Kagari’s half-shitfaced expression breaks into joyous laughter. “Yeah. Leave the heroics to the rest of us.”

Ko does not say that heroics don’t exist here. That if they do, it won’t take long before you’re punished for it. No good deeds and all.

They all have ways to cope by joking and pretending that things exist.

Later that night, after the alcohol has addled their minds into oblivion, Ko will push Kagari to sleep somewhere other than the floor, Kunizuka already adrift on the couch. Kagari leans heavily on the other man as they stumble forward.

“I lied. Don’t really give a shit how it happens…” he slurs.

“What?” Ko grunts as he pushes him to lie on the bed. Kagari flops on his belly like a starfish, his voice muffled. 

“I don’t care how I die. But…” he pauses, adding, ��Just bury me with friends, and I’ll rest easy.”

The moment is so genuine that it’s almost uncomfortable. But Ko feels like he owes it to him to allow space for it. He softens his voice, almost unused to the way words form in the shape of his mouth.

“Don’t know if you’d like being stuck with the rest of us for all time. We’d all get sick of each other eventually.”

The younger man snorts. “I’ve been by myself my whole life. Pretty tired of it. I figure I’d deal, even if it meant having to put up with your bitch ass ghost for the rest of eternity.”

He punctuates the moment with a laugh, drunk on humor. It is neither sarcastic nor irreverent. He sounds impossibly young like the child he never got to be.

Ko can’t help a chuckle at that, even if he also can’t help his envy.

“All right, sure. If it comes to that, I promise I’ll haunt you the second I die.” 

What a thing that must be: to be defined by what you love at the end of it all.

*

The thing is: Kagari is right. Ko does dream. They’re not all bad. He just doesn’t remember, too busy having a panic attack just as he wakes to recall minute details.

When he sleeps, he conjures Sasayama exactly as he thinks he saw him last. They are in the living room of his quarters, some Enforcers congregating in celebration of someone’s birthday—he doesn’t remember. In the kitchen, he can hear the commotion of cooking. He even thinks he can hear Amari laugh, Akane responding in kind.

A memory? No. A dream for sure, rationale tells him. On his lap is the gun he will kill Makishima with. Has killed. Yet to be killed.

He doesn’t know where in time he’s situated but the anxiety is constant whenever he is.

“What if it’s all bullshit,” Ko asks, as Sasayama blows smoke into the air. He’s mid-story, Ko remembers. The man had regaled them for half an hour with an anecdote that ultimately went nowhere and received the jeering with glee.

Ko interrupts the script, the memory, the dream, whatever. 

“What if I can’t do it?”

Or worse: what if I can, and nothing changes?

Sasayama stubs his cigarette on the ashtray. “Then you don’t. So what?”

“All of those years hunting. It can’t have been for nothing. I can’t have you killed like an animal for nothing.”

“Ah, well. We all die like animals in the end, don’t we.”

“You don’t understand. All I’ve done—none of it will have mattered if I can’t do this.”

Sasayama laughs but it does not sound like him at all. He thinks he hears Pop’s gravelly voice for a moment in his place. Or is that his mother’s low timbre? 

“If none of it matters,” the voice continues, gentle and lethal, “then why am I still here anyway? Why are you still trying to keep me here, Ko?”

*

This is new, Ko thinks, shaking breath visible in the morning, as lingering sleep clears from his eyes to fix onto the intruder sitting at the foot of his cot. Underneath him, the metal floor of the ship he’s escaped to creaks.

The other man looks preserved and clean like he’s never had his brain matter spattered on the back of his head by Ko’s hand. His pristine hair glows white in the dark of the cabin.

“New? And here I thought you were clever,” he drawls, amber frozen with contempt and amusement. “Don’t you remember, Kogami? I’ve been here before.”

I’ll be here again is not said but the promise is heard all the same.

Underneath them both, the ocean rolls and moves even as it stays in one place.

*

The anger, the grief, the terror, the trauma are as constant as time.

(But he hears a warm laugh somewhere, somewhen. A man claps a friendly hand on his shoulder. He smells his mother’s curry. Next to him, Pops watches the sunrise from the rooftops, his face serene with eternal forgiveness.

Ko summons them all and keeps them here.)

Because for better or worse, so are they.

And so it goes.

[httpswritings]

Postpartum Depression - Alexia Putellas x Reader

Warnings: self harm, depression, panic attack, mentions of wounds, bad pregnancy, death mentions and similar.

Word count: 1,7k

Summary: You experience a panic attack derived from postpartum depression.

A/N: -

Alexia had arrived home from training and some media duties. She was exhausted and only looked forward to seeing you and your daughter and getting some cuddles.

Little did she know what was happening.

She heard loud cries from your daughter Martina.

When she entered the living room, you were on the floor, with your baby in your arms, also crying without looking at her.

“Bebita, what's wrong?” Alexia rushed to get closer to you.

She looked at your daughter, who was shaking, not only because of the crying but because you were shaking too and proceeded to hold her delicately.

Your face had a reddish colour and your chest showed a rapid breathing pattern.

What scared Alexia the most was that you were crying without any tears.

It was a mixture of agony and rage.

Your girlfriend had never seen you in this state of distress, so she felt lost.

Alexia had her one-month-old baby in her arms, crying uncontrollably, while she had her girlfriend in front of her, almost collapsing in what probably was a panic attack.

“Amor? What happened?” She tried to sound as soft as possible, not wanting to scare you.

She thought that the baby had fallen, and that's why you were in that state of nervousness, but after looking in detail throughout your daughter's body, Alexia saw that there were no signs of harm.

“Make her stop, Ale. Please,” you begged almost silently, but in a split second, you snapped at your girlfriend, “Get away from me. You both. Out. Please.”

She didn't question yoir request, getting out of the living room rapidly as she tried to calm Martina down.

Alexia had been suspecting that you could be experiencing post-partum depression, but she didn't know how to address the situation.

You had lost your sparkle. You didn't look in the mirror anymore. Not only that, but you felt like a whole different person, and Alexia was aware.

She had left this go too far until your mind couldn't take it anymore.

Alexia called her mother and urged her to come to your flat. 

Thankfully, Eli lived only 20 minutes far away from home.

For Alexia, it was probably the longest twenty minutes of her life.

She couldn't manage to calm Martina down and she was hearing how in pain you were.

Her mind was full of her daughter and her girlfriend's shouting and she felt her insides rip apart.

Finally, Eli entered the flat.

“I need you to take care of Martina. I need to take care of...” Alexia stopped talking when she noticed that you had stopped crying, which only made her worry more about your state.

She left your daughter in her mother's arms and entered abruptly into the living room.

She found you still on the floor with scratches all over your body. 

Your hands were aggressively grabbing your hair, trying to pluck it.

“Bebita... Can I get closer to you?”

You looked at her. Alexia had a scared expression, and you broke down crying.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I can't do it anymore.”

“Amor... It's okay, bebé. I'm here. Let me hold you, sí?”

You nodded, and Alexia got closer to your body.

She held your hands, which were still grabbing aggressively your hair, but she didn't succeed in getting them to let go.

She caressed your hands, leaving soft kisses on them, as you continued crying.

“I've got you, mi amor. I'm right here.”

“I don't like her, Alexia. I'm so sorry but I can't see her as mine. I can't be her mother. I'm not her mother.” You repeated over and over.

Alexia couldn't deny that hearing you say those things hurt her, but she didn't let you go.

She didn't understand what you meant, and that scared her.

She looked at your scratches; most of them had a little blood coming out.

What led you to end up hurting yourself?

Still, Alexia kept holding you.

With you in her arms, you couldn't do anything that hurt you.

She knew that she'd do anything to protect you from yourself.

Eli entered the living room. She had left her granddaughter peacefully sleeping on the cot that was placed in your bedroom.

She placed herself in front of you, looking at your body, especially your arms.

After examining the situation and after asking you a few questions, Eli came to the conclusion of what seemed to be the cause.

“Listen, love. You may not see it now, but what you're experiencing is a common situation for many women. More than you know. It's normal to think that you don't love or don't feel a connection to your baby. But safety here is the priority. Not only the baby's but everyone's, including yourself. If you need professional help, you must ask for it. No one is going to shame you. We are all going to be by your side, taking care of you. Right, Ale?”

Alexia nodded, leaving a soft kiss on your head.

“You've experienced an episode common in women who are struggling after having given birth, and you've hurt yourself,” she said, looking at your wrists and your hands, which were still grabbing your hair. 

“If it's not treated, the whole situation can get worse, not only towards you but towards Martina or Alexia. It's not a rational situation, so don't think you're a monster, because you're not. But I want you to be safe. And that implies asking for professional help.”

You cried as your mind showed you the worst scenarios you could think of. You didn't want to hurt anybody, not Alexia and especially not your one-month-old baby.

You remembered how excited you were when you told Alexia that you were carrying your daughter on your belly, feeling that you wouldn't be able to wait all those months until you had Alexia's little version in your arms.

Now, those memories seem so strange to you.

“Alexia, I want you to look for a psychologist specialized in maternity. I'm taking the baby with me tonight so you both can have some clarity. If this gets worse, I want you to go to the hospital or call an ambulance, and of course, call me or call your sister.”

-

You saw Eli exiting your home with your baby in her arms, making you cry again, and Alexia rushed to hold you.

“Ale, I don't feel anything. I'm seeing my baby leave my side, and I don't feel the need to go after her. I feel relieved. I'm a monster. I'm so sorry because neither you nor Martina deserve to be next to me.”

Alexia couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She hated herself for letting you end up in this state. She should've been more thoughtful, more caring, more empathetic.

“No, amor, that's not true. I deserve to have you as a partner, and our baby deserves to have you as a mother. If you need some time to get used to it, it'll be alright. Amor, you went through pregnancy and labor. There's no way I'm blaming you for feeling like this.”

“Giving birth was the most painful thing I've ever experienced, Alexia. I feel numb since that happened. It's like I'm not able to feel anything after feeling so much pain. I truly thought my body was going to rip apart.”

“See? It's not easy to experience motherhood the way you have experienced it. That's why you deserve us, your family, and we'll wait for you as long as you need. Let's do this, amor: you'll let me take care of your wounds, and then I'll prepare you a warm bath, and while you're taking it, I'll look up some educational stuff about everything related to this, just like my mother said. Is that alright?”

You impulsively kissed Alexia. 

“You know, the only moment I wasn't scared when I was in labor was when you kissed me. The doctors were encouraging me to push. Martina was about to be born. Everything happened so fast and slowly at the same time. I felt my insides stretching, and then I started to cry in pain. You remember it, right? And then you kissed me so softly that you managed to stop the time for a few seconds. I felt safe even if I wasn't, even if I almost died while delivering our little girl. What was supposed to be the most beautiful day of my life was the most scary and horrible thing I've ever experienced. I looked at you after what I thought was going to be our last kiss, and I told you how much I loved you: “T'estimo molt.” It was my way of saying goodbye to you, amor. What mattered most to me at that moment was that whether I died or not, I wanted to make sure you knew how much I loved you.”

Alexia wasn't able to say a word.

Everything had gone so fast, that she didn't have time to process the fact that you almost died while giving birth.

It's as if her mind had blocked that memory out.

She didn't realize that you were saying goodbye, and the possibility of having lost you that day made her almost want to die.

She didn't imagine a life were you weren't by her side.

“I'm so sorry, mi amor. God... you almost died...” She said looking at the wall with a blank stare.

Alexia felt the impulse to hug you so tightly as if she was going to lose you, that you felt pain in your stomach.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Joder! I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Ale, it's fine. I know it's been like one month but I'm still recovering from labor.”

“Let's go to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Ye—”

“Alexia, I said no.” Your response was harsher than you expected.

“Listen, Ale. I'm okay. I'd let you call an ambulance or drag me to the nearest hospital if I wasn't fine, but I'm good. My wounds are not, but they aren't anything that we cannot heal at home. I don't want to enter a hospital if it's not necessary. Not again. I don't feel prepared.”

“Okay. But...What about what my mother said? Do you feel comfortable with the idea of getting professional help?”

“No. But I guess—I know that I need to. So I'll do it. But no hospitals for the moment.”

“Okay, bebita. No hospitals for the moment.”

[resident-idiot-simp]

(elaboration on this post)

When the late Logan was spotted again in the wild the mansion devolved into chaos. No one knew what to think until out of everyone Colossus had answers. He said this was a different Logan from a different universe and he was here now because (out of everyone it could have been) Deadpool brought him.

Deadpool, an insane merc who took damn near any job he could and enjoyed it. Why Colossus thought he was a friend or even somewhat worthy of being an X-Man was beyond them. 

They didn't pay much attention knowing Logan would find his way home like he always did. He really was like a stray cat. He comes back for food and shelter and to help when they really need it. It's nice even if they wished he'd stay longer.

The thing is he didn't come back to them, and no one knew what to do. Sightings kept happening and Logan was always with Deadpool, and no one knew what to think about it. Then THEN Colossus came back one day with a young lady who looked so much like Logan it hurt. She introduced herself as Laura Howlett and chaos reigned once again. 

She was so much like Logan, it hurt the same mannerisms, behavior, tendencies and lurking in the same places Logan once did. The first time they saw the claws, Jean almost cried.

Laura could be found with Yukio and Ellie the most and eventually Rogue once she got up the courage to talk to her. Laura didn't seem to like the other X-Men, and no one could figure out why. Rogue too had started distancing herself and it just made everything worse. 

Rogue started referring to herself as Laura's sister and the first time Storm heard it she had to leave. Scott asked her about Logan, and she had been dismissive just saying he was fine with Wade. 

Wade or Deadpool (why is it always Deadpool why did he have to be in the middle of all of this) the same Wade she talked about with a smile on her face and a laugh on her tongue. Wade who she told stories about and who she so obviously cared deeply about. Wade who she slipped up and called Pop once.

Scott wanted to be mad but couldn't bring himself to be. 

It all came to a head when shit went sideways, and they needed major backup. Laura had pulled out a phone and started speaking quickly. Not long later and out of seemingly nowhere Logan and Deadpool appeared with a few people in tow. Seeing Logan again in person even across a battlefield felt like a punch to the gut. 

Logan had made himself known with a roar as he tackled the creature that was about to strike Laura. Deadpool was right behind him covering his back. They proceeded to fight in such unison it was mesmerizing to watch. They anticipated each other perfectly covering where the other would leave open. 

It was a level of teamwork even the X-Men couldn't manage. Laura fell in with the three other strangers while the other two worked together and occasionally jumped in with Deadpool.

(continued on Ao3)

as I promised @twilightkitkat

ANOTHER ONE but with Laura

[loverwebs]

The Perfect Pair

Pairing: Bella Ramsey x Costar!Reader

Synopsis: After playing Ellie and Riley, you and Bella answer the internet's most asked questions.

Word count: around 1,100

Part Two

Just like any other highly anticipated series, The Last of Us press tour consisted of traveling and interviews. The entire experience being incredibly glamorous and exciting for the cast.

On one of the last few days leading up to the premiere, Bella and Y/n were paired up to answer the internet's most asked questions.

Despite her role for the show being limited, Y/n continued filming in Canada for a movie after wrapping as Riley, which gave her and Bella the opportunity to spend even more time together since Bella didn't finish until a few months later.

The duo would often visit each other's sets and had countless sleepovers, constantly posting the other during their time together.

That being said, they already knew what the internet thought of them. It didn't change anything, though.

They knew they were close.

A little too close.

"Unlike the other boards, this one has questions for both of you." Bella's assistant explained towards the end of the interview, handing the last board to them. "Whenever you two are ready."

Bella cleared their throat before peering at the board in their hands, "Are Bella Ramsey and Y/n L/n..." She looked at the camera through squinted eyes before proceeding.

"...still friends?" Y/n finished off once the sticker was peeled.

"Phew," Bella pretended to wipe sweat from their forehead, meanwhile Y/n dramatically placed a hand over her heart to show relief.

They knew what the question was implying.

"This may come as a surprise to you all, but we actually aren't," Bella deadpanned.

"It's true," Y/n chimed, picking at her nails in an attempt to seem uninterested, "I'm being paid to be here."

"Me too. I despise her so much," Bella grinned.

"Yeah right," Y/n nudged her, preparing to peel off another question from the board. "This one says... How did Y/n and Bella meet?"

"We met a few weeks before filming this little project called The Last of Us," Y/n started. "Maybe you've heard of it. It's not really well known or anything."

"It's remarkably underrated," Bella added with humor.

"Absolutely," Y/n gave an amused smile. "Best day of my life, though. I was so nervous."

"Were you really?" Bella raised a brow, "Because I remember it a bit differently."

"Oh my God," Y/n groaned, turning to face the camera. "You see, I kind of talked Bella's ear off the whole time."

"Kind of? Darling, I couldn't get a word in the entire night." Bella giggled.

"I'm sorry!" Y/n whined. "I just thought you were really cute. I talk way too much when I'm around cute people." 

"Then you must still think I'm cute," Bella teased her. "Because you always go on and on when we're together."

"Moving on!" Y/n sighed. "God, you're so annoying."

"You love it," Bella shook with laughter.

"Hold still!" Y/n laughed as well. "Bels, I can't read them if you're moving! Okay... This one says—oh wow. Y/n L/n and Bella Ramsey kiss."

"My goodness," Bella bursted out in giggles once again.

"That's not even a question," Y/n gave the camera a look whilst fanning the brunette, attempting to calm him down. "Someone needs to get fired for that."

"I'm assuming they meant to ask if our characters kissed on the show." Bella glanced at the crew members skeptically.

"This interview will come out after the episode airs," someone assured them.

"Oh! In that case, we did kiss, yes," stated Bella.

"Our characters did." Y/n clarified, smiling at her friend.

"Well, we kissed. But for the show, of course."

"Completely professional."

"Though we had to do it quite a few times." Bella added.

"Because someone kept 'forgetting' their lines. Definitely not on purpose," Y/n teased them.

"Wow! Way to throw me under the bus there," she pretended to be offended. "I see how it is, L/n."

"Just saying," Y/n shrugged smugly, fingers tugging off another strip.

"Did Bella Ramsey and Y/n L/n play The Last of Us?" Bella read. "Not really…I mean, prior to filming we were told not to play it, but Y/n/n and I tried to get through some of it recently."

"We didn't get very far though. Even on the easiest mode, it just never ends well." Y/n grimaced.

"Yeah, it's tough." Bella agreed. "Neither of us are gamers, so we wind up eating snacks and playing a film instead."

"Which is way less stressful!"

"Is Skipper Y/n L/n's or Bella Ramsey's dog?" Y/n said, struggling to flick away the sticker from her fingers.

Bella immediately noticed and tried helping her, but it ended up getting stuck on both of them, which earned him a small giggle from the girl.

"Despite what Y/n says, Skipper is my kid." Bella announced, successfully placing the long sticker on their chair.

"But she likes me more. I birthed her," Y/n joked.

"I won't lie—she does like to cuddle Y/n/n quite a lot. I think she gets that from me."

"She definitely gets that from you. I like when all three of us cuddle, though." Y/n smiled at the fond memories, "Anyway, I'll settle for the title of being her second mom."

"That works," Bella chuckled. "We'll co-parent her."

"Bella Ramsey and Y/n L/n laying on each other," Bella read through a heavy laugh. "Again, not a question."

"There's a thing called needing body heat, people!" Y/n said defensively.

"Right! Because Canada is incredibly cold. If you were filming in our conditions, you'd do the same." Bella spoke, hiding their face behind the board.

"Yeah, we had to stay warm somehow." Y/n added, her face heating up from the embarrassment of this topic coming up.

"Are we done now?" Bella peaked, "I feel like we've revealed a lot in this ten minute video," they joked.

"Right?!"

"I think that's it," one of the assistants said, laughing along with the team behind the camera. "And we're already shooting, so you can just give us an outro and we'll wrap this up."

"That concludes our Wired Autocomplete Interview!" Bella yelled at the same time Y/n chanted, "Thanks for watching!"

They shared a laugh, then looked back at the camera before continuing, "Make sure to check out The Last of Us." Y/n said when Bella rested their head on her shoulder.

"It's streaming right now on HBO Max," they pointed out.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we're gonna go make out!" Y/n joked, running away from the camera-frame with Bella, hand in hand.

Part Two

[emeraldoodles]

The Master Post from Serizawa Week 2024

I had lots of fun participating! Mine are little snapshots from the week, linking one day to the next.

If you would like more story read below.

Thanks @ygodmyy20 & @acermp100 for letting me bound ideas off you the whole week. Also, @yu-artist for sharing the Seriweek prompts!

Monday, March 25th - Friends

Serizawa made going back to school look so fun Minegishi decided to join. Sometimes Dimple/Yoshioka likes to stop by and say hello. Today he was a distraction to Serizawa, so he had trouble paying attention and listening to the homework assignment.

Tuesday, March 26th - School

Poor Serizawa, having to stay up late to finish an assignment. At least he's not alone. The cat's name is Gizmo! Thanks @acermp100 for the cat name suggestion. @secretagent9 I really love the idea of a Gundam name, but not being a fan I didn't know what to choose.

Wednesday, March 27th - Outfit

Reigen and Serizawa were hired to exorcise mischievous spirits that kept harassing the maids at a cafe. Serizawa was very tired from yesterday's school assignment and not on his A-game today.

Reigen volunteered to lure out the ghost by wearing a maid's outfit, but maybe he just wanted to wear it. Serizawa is wearing his cute butler outfit! The maids were very excited to dress him up, not so much Reigen

Reigen: Those brats! Wont even help me tie my apron. Grumble. *struggles to reach behind*

Serizawa: Here, let me. *zips up and hooks Reigen's dress and ties the apron*

Reigen: *many hand gestures* Competition, that's what is is Serizawa! I'm competition because of how good I look.

Serizawa: *chuckles* You do look good sir. Very pretty, very cute.

Reigen: R-really? *blush* I-I er, I mean of course! Now! Let's get to work!

Poor Reigen, he got ice water dumped on him several times that day. He wasn't feel great before the exorcism, but was wiped out by the end the assignment.

Thursday, March 28th - Food

Mrs. Serizawa is teaching Kastuya how to cook, so he can stop living off instant noodles. Today is a hearty beef & leak stew!

Mrs. Serizawa: Remember, the leaks need to be thoroughly washed.

Kastuya: Nods, Nods!

Mrs. Serizawa: Also, the more passion and enjoyment you put into your cooking will reflect in the final dish. So, relax and take it slow and your love will shine through.

Serizawa is learning how to make tonjiru soup. He wants to make it for someone "special" this week.

Friday, March 29th - Spring

Dimple: I don't get it. If you're worried about Reigen go check up on him.

Serizawa: I don't want to intrude on his privacy.

Dimple: Ugh, you two are impossible.

It was an unusual day. Reigen didn't show up for work and Serizawa just got a message from him saying "I n68 sick".

Saturday, March 30th - Comfort/Bravery

Serizawa: Reigen, please eat a little more.

Reigen: No, I feel so sick.

Serizawa: But you've not eaten since Thursday. Here, let me get you just some broth.

Reigen: Kastuya...

Serizawa: Y-Yes?

Reigen: I.... I... Bucket. I need the bucket.

Reigen proceeded to dry heave into the bucket while saliva and tears fell in. Serizawa rubbed his back while he continued to convulse for several minutes.

Sunday, March 31st - Birthday

Serizawa went over to check on Reigen, who surprised him by throwing a little birthday celebration. It was just the two of them, but Reigen originally had planned something bigger. Luckily, the present, a multiplayer game, arrived on time, so they could play together.

Reigen was still sick, and drugged up, and making bad decisions. But Serizawa didn't mind. A love confession from Reigen made this the best birthday.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girl like you 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as kidnapping, marital discord, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a fight with your husband leads to an unexpected situation.

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Jake Jensen

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

Jake lays you down on a bed as you twitch again. Your teeth clack as your muscles continue to spasm now and then. You groan and swat at him as another swell of rage takes you. You sit up, too fast, and fall back dizzily. 

You bring your hands up to frame your forehead and steady your eyes enough to look around. What the hell is this place? A basement? More like a bunker.  

The walls are a gentle shade of peach and in the place of real windows, there’s some painted onto the plaster with curtains hung at the edges. And the bed; white metal with four posts with curls at the top. The blankets are floral and smell of freshener and the pillow cases are frilled. 

The furniture matches; every piece dainty and white, or marked with some petal or stem or the other. You take deep breaths, trying to put yourself together enough to think. This is deranged. It can’t be real. The sheriff wouldn’t do this. Or Jake. 

You sit up, head bobbling, and find Jake watching you from against the wall. He looks guilty behind the pair of thick rectangular lenses as the Sheriff gives a whistle and jingles the keys on his belt. You frown and bat your lashes. 

“What is this?” You ask. 

“Now, honey, that’s what I was tryna explain, wasn’t I?” Bodecker tuts, “but ya had to go and scream like a banshee. You’re too pretty for all that.” 

“I... what?” 

“You shouldn’t have tased her,” Jake mutters. 

“And what were you doin’? You wanted help, you got it. I didn’t it like it none either,” the sheriff retorts and steps forward. As he nears the foot of the bed, you lean back, support yourself on the heels of your hand. “Look around, nice place, isn’t it? And me and the geeky one aren’t gonna be yawlin’ at you like that blockhead I found ya with.” 

“He’s my husband--” 

“Don’t act like one, does he?” Bodecker scoffs and crosses his arms. Jake hovers behind him uncertainly, touching his fingertips together as he tries to see past the pudgier of the pair. “You know when he goes down to that bar, you know what he says about you? Old bag? Even takes his ring off--” 

“What?” You can’t help but wilt. “The bar?” 

“Suppose he don’t tell you that’s where he’s going,” he shrugs. 

You look down and slowly bend your legs, hugging them as a chill washes over you, “squash practice...” you murmur. You wondered where that came from.

“Hey, you cold? I can put the heat up,” Jake stops just behind Bodecker and you lift your chin to meet his gaze. You don’t answer. You don’t care. 

“Now, obviously, I don’t agree with that. Just look at ya. Pretty thing. Lookin’ fine and all. Well-dressed, nice hair, and you got that sweet voice--” 

“You can’t keep me here,” you insist through a quiver. 

Jake goes to the wall and unlocks a control panel. As he hits buttons, the sheriff looms, “we can do whatever we want, can’t we? You just walked out on your man. You came down to the station, called your sister, and went off... who knows what happened after that.” 

“No--” 

“Enough goin' on at the station, I could get a couple boys to corroborate,” he snickers, “you don’t need to be chattering on. We’re good men, Jakey and I. We just want a woman to treat right.” 

You scowl, “you tased me.” 

“Like I said, didn’t wanna do that but you were gonna hurt yourself worse if you kept on. One bad fall on that cement and--” he makes a popping noise and taps his head, “well, wouldn’t matter what I did to ya then.” 

Your lip trembles and you search around. You can’t get past him. He might be chubby but you’re not fast enough to get past him. Your eyes meet Jakes and you pout, “Jake. Jensen, please. Why... how can you do this? You’re a nice guy. Remember, I... I got them to leave your Green Lantern flag.” 

He smiles and shrugs, rubbing his neck before he drops his arms and he face turns sallow and sober, “I know.” 

“So, please, let me go--” 

A clang makes your skull ring and you wince as you look at the sheriff, his nightstick in hand as he leans it against the metal bed frame, “now, don’t go playin’ games. It was his idea, after all. He playing those games. You know the ones where you’re just living. Little freak had one of the lady ones in a room...” 

“Lee,” Jake sneers. 

“What? It is what it is. We got her here, no point sugar coatin’ any of it,” he pulls the nightstick back and rests it against his shoulder, “look, we don’t wanna be mean or nothin’. I see ya walkin’ around in those heels, your kiester all tight. I know that man ain’t loosen you up in a while--” 

“Disgusting--” 

“Eh, maybe a little, but not for nothing. What d’ya want, honey? A husband who can’t give ya a nice word or two husbands who wanna give ya everything?” 

“Everything?” You blink and gesture to the room, “this is a prison cell.” 

“Only if you make it one,” he says.  

Your eyes sting and your nose tingles. You really can’t believe this is real. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation. At least Jake has the grace to look guilty but the sheriff only seems more certain with each protest. 

“It is,” you insist, “Jake--” 

“Now, now, I’m talking. Not him.” 

“Argh,” you grit your teeth, “please. Think about it. This is wrong. You’re an officer. You’re supposed to protect and serve--” 

“Exactly what I’m doing,” he says nonchalantly. “I’m keepin’ ya safe,” he points the stick at the walls, “and I can serve you, sugar, in many, many ways.” 

You hug your legs again and shrink down. You’ve been arguing with one may for next to decades, you don’t have the energy; not for Brock, not for either of them. You shiver again. 

“There’s a housecoat for you,” Jake offers as he goes to the hook behind the door and the lilac robe hung there, “if you’re cold.” 

You don’t respond. You just stare at him, then the sheriff, then the wall. You unwrap your arms from around your legs and lay flat. You roll onto your side and hide your head under your arm. This isn’t real. You refuse to accept that this is real. 

“Is she okay?” Jake asks. 

“Pfft, she’s a woman. They need time to think, Jen, not like us,” Bodecker says, “she’ll be alright. 'sides, that zap probably took it out of her.” 

“Oh,” Jake lets out the single syllable. 

You hear their steps. One comes closer and you feel a weight settle over you. Jake spreads the housecoat across your body and you heave, shoulders shaking. You can’t help but cry. This is horrible. You really are just as stupid as Brock says. 

“Now, sugar, you got some time to get your head straight,” Bodecker says, “but we ain’t gonna wait forever.” 

You don’t respond. You keep your face under your arm and curl up even smaller. If you don’t look, it might just fade away. If you close your eyes, you might wake up from this nightmare. 

[not-that-syndrigast]

The Haas and Uralkali situation explained

Some of you might’ve heard of it, those that didn’t should now. In the course of this race weekend, news came out that equipment and the cars of the Haas F1 team could be seized, as they owe their former sponsor Uralkali money, and as long as they don’t repay that money, their assets, in this case cars and equipment could be seized. All of this could lead to them missing the Italian Grand Prix, if not more, but what exactly happened and what will Haas do now? I’ll try to answer these questions and give my opinion on the situation, but i’ll preface all of this by saying that I am not legally involved in any of this, which means I can also only give you public knowledge and while i tried my hardest to research all the facts, it’s impossible to be sure that everything is correct, but more to that later.

Back to the problem; where did all of this start?

Uralkali ‘is a Russian potash fertilizer producer and exporter’ as stated on Wikipedia. It’s a pretty big company with a lot of assets, in 2018, they had assets worth roughly $8 billion. With these big numbers in mind, Uralkali became a sponsor of Haas in 2021. I’ll make a separate post about  sponsors, but important to know for this is that sponsors hold contracts with the teams. They give the teams money that's needed and in return, depending on how much they gave, they get things back from the team. As you’ve probably guessed, Uralkali gave quite a big sum of money to Haas, they became title sponsor, so for 2021, Haas was officially called ‘Uralkali Haas F1 team’, their cars livery was in the russian flag and they signed Nikita Mazepin, son of Dmitry Mazepin who’s one of the most influential Uralkali shareholders. It’s not quite clear how much money Haas got, but multiple sources talk about roughly $12 million, which makes sense if you take all factors into account.

From the money Haas made, they bought equipment and parts for the cars, so as far as sources state, all the money they initially got has been used up.

In 2022, following Russia's invasion of the Ukraine, many business people and oligarchs were sanctioned. I could not find clear statements of Uralkali itself being sanctioned too, but considering that most of the owners and shareholders are, I would assume that that puts the company also under certain sanctions. The important part here is that both Nikita and Dmitry Mazepin have been put under sanctions. These sanctions consist of asset freezes and travel bans, which resulted in Nikita Mazepins contract and the sponsoring contract being terminated by the team. 

Now this is where the problem starts; by contract, there's usually a clause that does not allow one party of the deal to just withdraw, at least not without paying their shares back. Due to the sanctions, though, it was not possible for Haas to pay the money that they owed back.

According to multiple sources, there was an arbitration court hearing in June in Switzerland, in which the court ruled that Haas needs to pay back the money that they owe Uralkali. Again, different sources talk about different amounts of money, since the ruling was kept private, but Uralkali states that by contract, they are also owed "a team race car from the 2021 season”. It’s difficult to rule out what really happened as different sources state different things, but they all have in common that Haas did not meet the required time to pay back whatever they owe, may that be because of the sanctions or because they lack the money, the important point is, Uralkali proceeded with a bid to get their court ruled money in assets. This race weekend, Haas has been apparently visited by bailiffs to evaluate what assets are of what value that could then be owed to Uralkali.

All of this is pretty irrelevant to the dutch grand prix, as it has been made sure that the valuation and official proceedings do not happen during the day and Haas has been ensured that this race weekend would continue, this could change though for the italian grand prix. If bailiffs decide which assets are worth the amount they owe Uralkali, these could be kept in the Netherlands until Haas pays or be taken as substitute for the money, although I am not sure where the legalities would lie there with what Uralkali is allowed to do with the assets then. 

The big problem for Haas right now, is paying. It's unclear if Haas has the money to pay it back, if they do it would obviously be a big setback because we are talking about millions of dollars here, but there is another problem; due to the sanctions, Haas states, the process of paying is difficult; “Haas has been working with its lawyers to ensure payment will comply with all relevant US, EU, UK and Swiss sanctions and regulations.” Uralkali states that this is not a good reasoning, but politics are difficult to follow, so even with extensive research I cannot guarantee you that paying is even a possibility without breaking sanctions by certain countries. For Haas the problem stays; they need to pay before Monday, or their assets will not be allowed to leave the Netherlands.

Due to this, rumors have surfaced, saying that this could be the end of Haas. Even if they pay the money and can compete in Italy, a lot of people expect it to be the final hit for Haas and possibly result in the team leaving or being bought up by Andretti, an American company that has tried to get into F1 for a while now. As of now, i cannot answer these rumors based on proof, but i can share my thoughts; leaving the sport completely is not as easy as it seems, there are contracts and rules, depending on the contracts, just leaving could cost Haas even more. Although selling the team would bypass these rules, selling a team takes time. Andretti could benefit from Haas being cheaper to buy than it would usually be, if the owners want to leave they’ll want to do it fast and for a team like Haas, you really cannot ask for much. In the end I do think though, that the rumors are unwarranted. If Haas gets sold, it's because they got a good offer, not because they suddenly want to leave when things get hard, especially since things were never easy at Haas to begin with.

I hope I explained and summarized the whole situation properly. As always, I'm open to explain my thoughts further and for comments and what you guys think of the situation and in this case rumors.

[sleepingpillscosmos]

Please do suguru with "simple shared nightly routines". This is so domestic omg. Preparing and having dinner together, washing each other's hair omg I live for this 😭😭😭❤️‍🔥

SHARED ROUTINE — suguru getō

pairing: suguru getō x fem!reader.

warnings/content: reader teaches the second years. gojō is a little shit as always. getō and reader shower together but not in a sexual way.

wc: 1.2k.

requested: yes, by anon.

a/n: I know I said I would have posted on monday, but they postponed my exam and I preferred to study a bit more for it, I'm really sorry! hope you enjoy <3

prompt: simple shared nightly routines.

You entered your apartment after a long day at work, leaving your shoes and keys at the entrance.

You stepped in the living room, finding Suguru on the couch with his phone in his hands. Getō was already looking in your direction, his smile widened when he finally saw you.

You mirrored his expression lazily, walking towards him, then you threw yourself atop of him before snuggling into his chest.

"Long day?" he asked chuckling, taking one of his hands in your hair and the other one around you. You nodded, sighing contently at the feeling of his arms around you.

"What about we make dinner together, then take a shower and go to bed?" he asked softly. You pretended to think about it for a second, even if you both knew that this was your favourite way to end a long and tiring day, then you nodded giving him a big smile.

You both got up, and walked together to the kitchen. Getō opened the fridge to see what you could make tonight while you sat on the counter looking at him. Unfortunately the fridge was nearly empty so you opted for some instant noodles you kept for these types of emergencies.

You waited in front of the microwave while both cups were in there, and when they were done, you went back into the living room to sit on the couch.

"How was work?" he asked, as he did every other day, before taking a mouthful of noodles. His gaze was on you, waiting for you to tell him about your day.

"It was tiring. My students were supposed to train with the first years 'cause - you know - the exchange event is in a few weeks.." you stopped to take a bite of your dinner and swallow it before continuing, "It was as simple as that, and it was going well.. until Gojō suddenly decided they weren't training correctly and that they needed a demonstration.."

You stopped again to take another bite while Getō hummed, showing you that he was listening.

"And you would say 'what's wrong with that'," Getō nodded while you continued your speech, having a feeling he might know what happened next.

"What was wrong is that he chose me to demonstrate with him. I obviously refused because I'm not the one who needs training, but then all the first years and second years started to fucking beg because they wanted to see us sparring and I didn't have the strength to tell them no." Your boyfriend chuckled, his predictions were right.

"And the most infuriating part is that Gojō knew it, he did it on purpose and just stared at me grinning while the students all begged me" you continued your story. One day you were going to murder that stupid ass white haired boy.

"So we started, he said 'I'll go easy don't worry', and guess what?" you said, imitating the voice of Gojō, at which Getō let escape another chuckle before answering your question, "He didn't go easy."

"Exactly, he fucking didn't! The only technique that asshole didn't do was domain expansion! I'm surprised I'm still alive and in one piece!" you exaggerated, or perhaps not, it didn't matter.

You proceeded to tell him about your sparring match with Gojō and by the time you finished telling your day both of you had already finished your dinner, so you threw away the empty cups and went directly to the bathroom to take a well earned shower.

You took off all your clothes while the water warmed up and Getō did the same. Once the water was the perfect temperature, you entered the shower, waiting for Suguru to follow you. He didn't, instead he picked up both your clothes and his from the ground. You gave him a confused look.

"I'm going to put them in the washing machine, I'll be back in a second." he said, you nodded and he proceeded to do as he said.

You waited for him, enjoying the feeling of the warm water running down your skin, soothing your sore muscles. You closed your eyes, relaxing after a long day of work, and didn't open them even when you heard Getō entering the bathroom again.

The first thing Getō saw when he was back was you under the shower head hugging yourself, which made him smile a little. He wasted no more time and joined you in the shower. Once he entered, you hugged him, pressing your wet skin and his dry one together. Your arms were around his waist and your head was on his chest, the little smile on Getō's lips widened as he reciprocated your embrace, bringing both arms around your frame. After some minutes like this, you started to wash yourselves.

As usual you washed each other's hair, which you both loved. It was probably your favorite part. You loved when Getō massaged just the right spots, plus he did it with such delicacy that it almost made you fall asleep every time. On the other hand, he loved seeing you struggling to wash his hair properly because it was difficult for you to reach his height, as he was taller than you. He always teased you for this, but deep down he loved it with all his heart. You weren't as good as him, which you both knew, but you always tried your best and he really appreciated that, it made him feel cared for.

When you were finished you both stepped out of the shower. The temperature difference made your skin shiver, so you covered yourself with a towel immediately. Much to your surprise, Getō already grabbed a change for the both of you, he probably did it on his way back to the bathroom when he put your clothes in the washing machine. You dried yourself and changed, your pajamas consisting of an old shirt that previously belonged to Getō and your underwear, while Suguru's consisted in a pair of boxers and sweatpants.

You dried each other's hair, and when it was your turn to dry his, he sat on the toilet so that you didn't have to be on your tiptoes the entire time. Then you proceeded to brush your teeth together in front of the sink, with your hips attached. Once your night routine was done, you made your way in your shared bedroom.

You climbed onto the bed, and Suguru soon followed you after switching off the lights. You moved towards him once he was laying under the covers, wrapping your arms around him and tangling your legs with his, as you did every other night. One of his arms was under your head, probably he wasn't going to feel it in the morning, but he didn't care at all, while he slipped the other under your shirt, wrapping it around your waist.

"Goodnight, love you." you said, sighing contently, ready for a good night of sleep in the arms of your lover.

"Love you too, goodnight." Suguru's answer came soon after as he kissed your head smiling.

He wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

[champangekisses]

Afterglow | R.C. & J.M.

Part One

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: swearing, banter, arguing, anger, suggestive, flirting

Summary: Reader’s first day back in the OBX after a year away is one to remember.

A/n: Part one to my first fic. I’m as excited as I am nervous to post this, I hope you enjoy!

All I could hear was the shouting, the constant rustle in the trees, the dogs barking uncontrollably. The flashlights shone through the trees and bushes as the sheriff and fellow deputies tried to desperately catch up to us. The fear set in, the rush of adrenaline still persistent in my body. I started to go numb as the limbs of the trees and bushes consistently smacked me all over. Then finally it happened, right before my eyes—my greatest fear became my living nightmare.

One Month Earlier

“Y/n! Make sure you pack yourself something nice to wear, remember no white!” My mom yelled up to remind me for the one hundredth time from the base of the stairs. I left the OBX a year ago, moved out to the middle of nowhere with my mom and her new husband and started a completely new life with them. Today, I finally get to go home, but unfortunately only for a week.

The Thornton’s eldest daughter is getting married off to some kid who graduated from law school, nothing special other than the groom comes from a wealthy family, and that's all that really matters out there. Keeping the rich - rich. My mom was always obsessed with the idea of me having a lifestyle almost identical to hers but I never was one for the shinier things in life, I just wanted to smoke pot and surf.

I had a plan though, she had always promised me that we would return off of one condition. “You will never see those worthless kids ever again.” Her words replayed in my head like the unmistakable tune of the piano keys I kept tapping ever so faintly as I waited by her bedroom entry, only to retain her opinion of the attire I had picked for the dreadful day to come.

“Y/n? Do you need something?” I quickly zoned back in, collecting all of the vindictive thoughts and stuffing them in a folder labeled drafts. I turned quickly to face her, she was in the middle of packing almost every nonessential item in her bathroom.

I gradually made my way to her bedside, settling down while staring at the ardent red dress in the palm of my hands. “What do you think about this one?” I spoke excitedly, masking the deceitful thoughts I was creating effortlessly in my head.

“I love it! The red dress has always been my favorite.” Her eyes glimmered at the thought of seeing me finally fit in with the kooks or as my step dad would say, the well educated kids. I gave a gentle smile to her before proceeding back through her reimposed bedroom doorway, gliding my fingers ever so delicately over the keys of the piano once more before continuing back up the staircase.

The trip there was awful and boring, outside of the plane windows you saw nothing but the many shades of green, luckily we were there within the matter of a couple hours. We took the latest flight that ultimately landed us at Charleston around eight in the evening. Exhaustedly as I am, I took it into my best interest to sleep during the next three and a half hours of our drive to the Outer Banks.

My body started lightly being pulled in one direction, then the other with every winding turn the old road took. With my eyes closed and slowly waking up, I started imagining the scenery of the old famous hang out at John B's. It was like dreaming in slow motion, watching as the sun kissed the water while we overcame the dying urge for a good time with uncontrollable laughter. Before my imagination concluded the car slowed, turning unhurriedly through massive gates that sat imperishable at the end of the elongated driveway.

Pulling up to the front doors of the old Tanneyhill Estate, I glanced into a dining room window staring at the distinctive profile of well-known Rafe Cameron. Our arrival made the inevitable distraction from the conversation at the dinner table which caused him to turn, concentrating on the moving vehicle on the other side of the very same window. The car stopped and I regained focus, grabbing my hand bag from the floorboard of the SUV before undoing my seatbelt.

Glancing down at my phone to check the time, I rested my hand on the door handle. Before I could put the energy into finally pulling it towards me, Ward swiftly swings the car door open—smiling almost as if he has never seen such a wonderful sight in his life. While demanding he help my stepdad with an argumentative tone, he reaches out for my hand and mildly holds it to help me out of the car.

I mumble a soft thanks before glancing to the front doors, locking eyes with the golden boy. Meanwhile behind me, Ward was continuing to the next car door, assisting with any need my parents had. Rafe never broke eye contact, even when he shifted his posture to lean against the framework, crossing his ankles while his hands stayed in his pockets. His smirk turned into a devilish grin that wreaked nothing but chaos. He sent chills that vibrated my bones, and even once received was not sufficient enough for the goosebumps coming to life on my neck.

I stared at the walkway in front of me, with each step the pit in my stomach grew. I could feel his eyes on me like the force of rain during a downpour. The closer we were, the weight of his stare grew even more burdensome. I felt so compliant around him, so timid. I finally reached the top of the stairs, I swung my arm out to grab the handle but Rafe had already beaten me to it. My hand gently landed on his, my anxiety quickly rising as I ripped mine back to me. His daunting smile let out a faint chuckle that only I could hear.

“If I don't get the door for you, I'm sure I'll hear about it later from my dad.” His tone was so taunting, as if he wanted me to react. I continued through the entry room, following the long narrow hallway to the backside of the home. Sarah was sitting on the love seat that was shared by her younger sister Wheezy. She wasted no time swiftly moving her head to look at the shadowed figure stepping into the light of her living room. Sarah immediately shot up, pushing everything from her lap directly on top of her sister. I prepared my body for the impact of Sarah’s as she pulled me in. We stayed continuously hugging for what felt like forever—neither of us comprehending quite yet that we were in reality. Ward hurried with the luggage, trying to push us in and assign us our rooms. We wasted no time getting ready for bed, I was anxious for what my tomorrow would bring.

I ended up sleeping in for far too long though, waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs way past the time I should be. Shooting myself up off the floor, I scurried into the bathroom across the hall. I shut the door quickly and immediately started the shower water. The only problem was that I forgot the clothes I needed to change into, so I wrapped a towel around me as my hair stayed drenched. Cracking the door open, I checked the hallway making sure nobody was able to witness the embarrassment I was about to endure. I darted across the hall, running through the entry of the bedroom I assumed was mine. I slammed the door a little too hard before turning around to look for my nonexistent clothes on the floor. Rafe, laying down on his bed, props himself up using his forearm and elbow.

��Since when did we share a room?” I jump by the sudden question asked towards me, not prepared to potentially be interrogated. I almost lose my towel in the process while Rafe begins to chuckle at my distress.

“Excuse me?” I questioned as I felt my face starting to warm as his stare intensed.

“You’re excused.” He replied with a smirk as his tone quickly became playful, I started to become flustered before popping off on him.

“You disrespectful brat! All of our interactions have ended with me being uncomfortable. You couldn’t even open the door for me out of courtesy when we first arrived! Now I'm here, sitting in a towel and you won’t even get up and help save me from this embarrassment! You’re such a jackass.” My voice started to raise as the fire within me started to spread.

Rafe shot up out of the bed as if he was being demanded to by a drill sergeant. His mood switched, intimidating was an understatement. He approached me with the same devilish smile he once had just last night, his hand reached out to hold my jaw—gentle yet firm. My breathing stopped, I couldn’t even say a word to him. Rafe brought his mouth to my ear, the closer he got the more submissive I became.

“Do you really want me to leave?” His voice made my skin crawl, my heart started pounding and my breathing came back but in manual.

“Get off of me, you mutt.” I smacked his hand away from my face which caused him to laugh before his tone shifted once again and he turned away from me.

“Get out.” He demanded. I felt even more embarrassed, I glanced at my feet noticing that I still wasn't dressed yet and it was going on late morning. I started to make my way to the door as Rafe seated himself on his bedside, I grabbed the handle and swung open his door. Walking out as if I meant to, I attempted to keep my confidence. I knew all too well that he watched me leave, my mom’s words played in my head as I proceeded down the hall once more. A dog will always remain a dog.

I finished getting dressed before making my way to the kitchen, my mom already had a cup of coffee waiting for me.

“What happened to you? I heard you get out of the shower and then it took you quite some time to get ready.” My face began to burn, Rafe’s words replicating a broken record in my head. My eyes wide open looking down at my feet with the mug full of coffee to my mouth, I sipped at it before placing it back down onto the island where she was sitting.

“I had some trouble with putting my outfit together.” I replied, hoping that was enough to get her off of my back. I couldn’t exactly tell her what happened or she would take it as a connection and mentally start wedding planning.

“Y/n! Come over here!” Sarah yelled from the back patio. My mom shaking her head in approval, I went on my way from the previous conversation and walked into an even more enlightened one. Sarah approached me with a growing smile while pulling what looked to be Topper away from Rafe whom he was actively having a conversation with. Rafe from afar glanced over at them approaching me before sitting down on patio furniture and gluing his face to his phone.

“Y/n, I wanted you to be reintroduced to my now boyfriend, Topper.” Sarah announced as I smiled, knowing that eventually they would connect. Topper has always had something special for Sarah, it was only a matter of time before she noticed.

I stepped aside from the conversation, staring off into the distance, watching the waves ever so lightly wash against the dock and the sailboats glide effortlessly against the water. I missed this, but I missed my friends more than anything. I stood there, with my mug in my hand and the coffee sitting dormant inside soon growing cold. Dreaming of the moment I see them, the Pogues.

Then, as my imagination settled, a figure started walking towards the house from the dock. Taking all of my attention away from my long forgotten wishes, they looked worn from a long day's work. When they grew closer to the back patio we shot each other a curious glance, our eyes locked which then became intense within seconds. I lost my grip, everything going numb before the mug shattered beneath me.

John B.

My lifelong best friend, walking through the yard of my now greatest enemy. Not one soul wasted time to come to my side, except for Rafe. He kept a glare on John B. as he continued down the pathway, you could see in his dark malevolent eyes that he was not welcomed here by him. Meanwhile, Ward ran to us from around the house while my mom and Rose came from the back doors.

“Y/n are you okay!? What happened!?” My mom grabbed my wrists and pulled me to her for a reply.

“N-nothing mom, I'm fine. Please.” I pushed away from her, running inside as Ward cleaned the pieces of porcelain. I went straight to the bathroom, not even sparing a moment to close the door. I turned on the cold water from the sink, staring motionless at the unrecognizable girl in the mirror while my eyes started to burn as the tears formed. I cupped the freezing water before bending over to splash it on my face, hiding any evidence of my emotion.

“I can’t believe I'm asking this but, are you okay?” With both hands gripping the bathroom counter I turned my head sharply to the door, Rafe stared at me with one eyebrow slightly raised while keeping one hand on the doorframe for support as he stood. I gave an angry chuckle before I collected myself.

“Yes, I'm fine. You can go now.” I seethed, Rafe rolled his eyes before making his way back down the hallway, mumbling the entire time before he stepped outside and back to tending to his dad’s needs. I wouldn’t go back outside, solely to prevent myself from becoming even more embarrassed by the scene I left behind. I went into the kitchen, watching my mom and Rose laugh over something that I had absolutely no interest in hearing about. Rose kindly handed me a glass of water before asking if I was okay. I felt myself turn pink, before I could even thank her and reassure her Sarah ran in from outside.

“Y/n! If you’re up for it, Topper wants to take us out for a ride in his new boat?” I turned to my mom waiting for her approval before running away from this nightmare. She sent me a soft smile before returning to her gossip session. I followed Sarah back out to the patio, ignoring the urge to apologize a hundred times for the mess I had created.

The boat wasn’t much to brag about, I don’t even remember the name of it honestly. I did enjoy the scenery though, and being able to let the water hug my fingers as we cruised back toward the dock. As we pulled up to tie off Rafe just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer

“So Y/n, why did you freak out like that back there at the house?” He questioned with an upward curve forming at the corner of his mouth. It made Sarah and Topper turn their heads to give me their full attention, and I couldn’t help but to glare at Rafe. This made him smile, his sunglasses hiding his eyes that had probably nothing but pure enthusiasm as he taunted me.

“So Rafe, why did you come check on me when I ran inside?” I teased, his smile soon fading while Sarah and Topper turned their heads back forward, hiding the smiles they held from the total humiliation they had just witnessed. Rafe had nothing to say but I felt accomplished knowing I officially put the pretty boy in his place, reminding him that two can play his game.

Once Topper tied the boat off we all hopped out. Rafe was of course the first one while I was last, which I didn’t mind because I wouldn’t want the help out. We all walked back to the house together until I realized I had forgotten my sandals, I turned around not even sparing a second to tell anybody. I hopped back into the boat and within seconds had found them, once I stepped out a familiar voice chimed in my ears.

“Hey there, stranger.”

My heart skipped a beat as I instinctively turned my head to look on the second level of the yacht that sat beside me. We made eye contact before I cracked a smile.

“I'll be damned; John B. Routledge.” I replied, he already had a glowing smile on his face, the same one as when we first met in school.

“Why don’t you come down here so we can be on the same level?” I tried to convince him, but luckily for me he had the same idea. John B hurried down, grabbing onto the side of the boat for him to throw himself over. While running to me to trap me in a hug, the strongest one I've been in so far. He pulled away from me but not letting go just yet.

“Y/n, you have to come to the bonfire tomorrow night. Everybody will be there and I know Kie, Pope and JJ would love to see you.” He encouraged me as I froze, not knowing how to explain that my parents absolutely despised him and the Pogues.

“I’m sure we will see each other. I know Topper and Sarah have been talking about going while we were out today.” I replied warily. John B had a concerned look on his face that had a splash of frustration before popping the one question I wished he hadn’t.

“So, you’re hanging out with the Kooks now?” I pushed him away from me.

“It's not as easy as you think it is to go back to how I once was; I have strict rules to follow and if I want to stay here for as long as I intend to do so, I have to play along.” I retorted as he stared at me wide-eyed. I knew he was confused and probably a little hurt by my reaction but that was the easiest way to tell him. I was suffocating myself staying in that home but I had another six days to try to prove to my parents that we should come back.

“I’m sorry John B., but my parents told me the only way I could come back is if I stay away from you. But -” I bit my lip, staring off into the horizon as the sun started to trinkle its way down to the water. John B grew impatient while I questioned myself to tell him my plan.

“But what Y/n?” He whined, making me snap out of my trance.

“But—if they just think I am a Kook, then they should get convinced quickly. Making it easier to hang out with you, since you know…they won’t be keeping a close eye on me.” John B sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he kept a stare down at the boards of the dock.

“I mean, I don’t think we have any other choice.” He replied looking back up to me, a soft smile formed once more on his face.

“Look at it this way; we finally got the Pogues back.” I smiled in response, it felt refreshing talking to John B. His voice reminded me of the soft waves as they caress the sand on the shore, the crackle of a fire that's burning at night to devour the darkness around you.

“I will see you tomorrow John.'' I smiled as I turned away from him.

“Don’t keep me waiting Y/L/N.” he replied as I started my way back to the house, blushing with a smile as I continued down the dock.

John B. was my best friend. I would be lying if I said he wasn't cute, but my eyes were on somebody else—precisely from a year ago. I stepped in through the doors that welcomed me back into the kitchen. Ward had taken Rose and my parents out for a nice dinner on the water for a warm welcome home. Sarah, Topper and Wheezy got dressed in time for the remaining two hours to be filled with laughter in the pool out back. I rounded the corner into the hallway before I was stopped by none other than Rafe, he was leaning against the wall with a look of disappointment growing on his face.

“So what was that all about?” He questioned, I stood there making awkward eye contact. Was he watching me?

“Hello?” Rafe poked once more, I furrowed my eyebrows before sending him an attitude.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” I pushed myself past him as he turned to watch me leave.

“It could be mine or it could be your parents’.” He barked back to me. I stopped walking as he slowly progressed towards me. I stood in fear of what my parents would do if they ever knew. I could feel his presence behind me, the goosebumps rising on my back and arms like a mountain range protruding through my skin. I turned around, finally gaining the courage to face him.

“Excuse me?” The anger spilling through my teeth.

“You heard me.” Rafe shot back at me, as if he planned out exactly what I would say to him. He lived for this, the mess he creates in my head and the endless ways he taunts me just to get me to react. He was a soulless, mediocre bastard of a person. The devil was such an understatement at this point, I only wanted to hit him but I wouldn't hear the end of it from my parents.

“Leave them at the cut, Y/n. You’re on figure eight now. You need to start acting like it.” I scoffed at him before ditching the conversation by walking away and into the guest bedroom I was staying in. Rafe followed, but stayed at the door.

“Don’t think that I don’t know how bad you want to come home, if I was you I would hang with us.” He suggested, I sit on the bedside before looking over to Rafe, one eyebrow raised before laughing at him.

“You really think I want to be friends with you? Sarah is the only kook I actually enjoy being around, but you? You are a plague that walks the earth, you only want to cause harm and enjoy watching as everything falls apart. I would never want to be associated with you, ever.” I felt my rage start to rummage through me as Rafe rolled his eyes before shutting the door, mumbling some more as he made his way back down the hallway towards the kitchen.

I put myself to bed, anxious that Rafe now has something to control me with, but how did he know that I wanted to come home? I’ve only told Sarah, and I know she wouldn’t ever tell Rafe anything, so was he eavesdropping? I brushed it off ultimately, it doesn’t matter how he found out. What matters now is that he knows.

After my cup of coffee with my mom the next morning, I wasn’t too excited to be having to go to the bonfire with the Kooks, but I don’t really have a choice right now. I tagged along with Sarah for the afternoon while Topper and Rafe did. I don’t know, Topper and Rafe things?

“So Y/n, what made you change your mind about the bonfire? When Topper and I brought it up, you seemed super uninterested.” Sarah didn’t hold back her question as she was incredibly suspicious. It caught me off guard so I took a minute to think about my response.

“Honestly, I just needed to get out and enjoy myself since I'm not promised more than this week.” I lied while the pit in my stomach grew. What if I don't stay? What if I go back? I couldn’t stand the thought of it, but I had to prepare myself for the worst. Sarah didn’t seem too convinced with my answer, giving me a raised eyebrow with a smirk following really gave it away.

“Okay, well we need outfits for tonight. Almost everybody in the OBX will be there, sometimes school aged visitors show up too if they’re looking to get away from their family.” Sarah continued on about the bonfire, while I searched through the never ending clothes racks. We finally finished our shopping spree and made it back in enough time to get ready for the fire. I was a tad anxious not knowing if I looked good in what I picked. Honestly though, every woman out here has the same fashion sense unless you're a visitor. As Sarah was finishing up I gradually made my way to the kitchen, lazily pouring myself a glass of water before becoming interrupted with an unwanted guest. Leaning against the counter’s edge closest to me, Rafe rested his chin in the palm of one of his hands while sneakily trying to reach under the cabinet for his father’s whiskey with the other.

“Can I help you?” I mucked up the courage to speak while avoiding any eye contact, back facing the glare I knew he was giving me.

“Your shorts, pull them down some.” He spoke as if he was agitated, I immediately felt the rage take over my body once more as if I was becoming a wildfire that couldn’t be put out.

“How dare you comment on my shorts! You don't own me nor my body nor my mind, and I will never and I mean absolutely never do a single thing you tell me to do!” I screamed at Rafe in a tone as if I was scolding a troubled teen, but he wasted no time to crack a smile before chuckling a bit, switching positions so his back can rest on the wall behind him and tucking his hands back into his front pockets before closing his eyes and pulling his head down towards the floor beneath him.

“I never said to take them off, but when your shorts are riding so high that it looks as if your ass is suffocating it just looks…I don't know, it's funny.” He replied with a soft attitude, the embarrassment raced across my face as if it was in a marathon going for first place. Swiftly yet unsuspiciously, I grabbed the bottom of one side of my shorts as I tightened the grip I had on the glass with my other, tugging the god forsaken things down as much as I could. Rafe had a steady grin while keeping his eyes closed, knowing only too well what I was doing. I gulped down the cold water before flipping the glass upside down in the kitchen sink, then without a second thought started my way back to Sarah’s room. Leaving Rafe with his new found bottle of whiskey, and the satisfied smirk he continued to hold onto that only made the night jealous with how dark its intentions were.

I quickly stepped into Sarah’s room, shutting the door with my back before elegantly sliding down until my bottom touched the freshly installed carpet. I shut my eyes before exhaling the breath I held in for what felt like eternity.

God, I hate him.

My mind was full of anger while my body said otherwise, I couldn’t ignore the fact I desired him. Everything he does, he knows it’s working as if he needs me to want him. As if he wants me to need him.

“How does this look?” Sarah’s voice intruded my thoughts. Luckily, she didn’t seem concerned for my growing silence moments after following the slight blush spreading across my cheeks.

“I think you look great. Are you finally ready?” I quickly spoke, before jumping to my feet with a mask of excitement that only hid pure anxiety. We made our way down the spiral staircase, following Sarah’s lead as we made it to the last step. My fingers effortlessly slid down the white handrail as every imperfection of the wood protruded from the thick sealant, so well that I was forced to acknowledge the splinter left behind from it. I winced at the pain as Sarah bolted to Topper, jumping into a hug which resulted in the air being filled with laughter.

I realized a little too late that I should’ve brought a jacket to the bonfire. The ocean left little kisses on my cheeks as the breeze picked up, which carried the slightest bit of mist from the crashing waves in the distance.

“Y/n?” Topper spoke out softly, my concentration returning to him as I snapped out of the trance that the water had on me.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I asked, ignoring the worrisome look on his face as he continued.

“Why exactly do you wear that ring all the time? You’re not like, engaged are you?” You shared a quick chuckle with the blond as you mindlessly played with the tiny band with your thumb, examining the delicate piece of silver that carried a microscopic engraved heart. Your mother requested it to be on there, she said it would add character or something like that.

“Oh, this little thing? It’s a purity ring, gifted to me by my parents for my birthday last year.” I answered, glancing back up to Topper who was taking another swig of his beer before lowering the bottle with a soft sigh and pink cheeks.

“Oh, interesting. Uh, do you see Sarah anywhere? She said she was grabbing herself another drink but she never came back.” He asked as the air thickened with tension, his eyes frantically scanning the faces of the individuals in front of us.

“I just want to make sure she’s o…” I turned to face him, curious yet concerned about what had made him lose his train of thought. His eyes darkened while his knuckles turned white from gripping the now empty bottle in his hand, I couldn’t get a word out before he made his way forcefully through the hoard of people in between us and his target.

I scan the crowd ahead of him before my eyes land on Sarah talking to John B. My heart started racing as I prepared myself for the conflict about to happen. Looking at my surroundings frantically, I feel a hand snake around my waist.

“Now, how has the Kook life been treating you?” A familiar voice spoke out while leaning towards my ear, the music so loud it was almost impossible to think.

My heart fluttered as every butterfly made its way to my stomach as I turned to face him, JJ’s smile matching mine as we sat in silence for what felt like eternity. I would leave this Kook life within a blink of an eye if it meant I could stay here in this moment with him forever, and surely by the looks of it, he felt the same. I glanced down at my beer, a soft pink grew on my cheeks but luckily the dim light of the fire hid my embarrassment quite extensively.

“Terrible.” I whispered, looking back into his eyes with only inches of separation between us. His breath reeked of bourbon and cigarettes while his eyes searched mine, as if trying to find the life they once emitted. Sadness soon filled the space between us as the memories washed over him and I. We stood in complete silence as if we were waiting for the other to speak, sharing the suffocating tension we had created. I stepped towards him, never breaking the gaze we held as I wrapped one arm around his neck and closed the space between us with a hug.

“I just want to come home J.” I whimpered in his ear while trying my best not to shed a tear, especially not at a party full of Kooks.

“Then come home, baby.” JJ hummed before hugging me tightly. Before I could process what I had just done, a scream echoed through the area and I remembered.

Topper.

[therealalexhera]

Musings on: Walker Creek

Walker Creek is a project I haven't thought about in a while. Well, that's not true. It's a project that I haven't consciously thought about in a while, but it sure does cross my mind more often than you'd expect. And today is its fourth anniversary, so I feel like taking a trip down memory lane.

I grew up with the Slenderverse. I don't think that's really new information for anyone who keeps up with my work -- but I believe it was 2011 or 2012 when I first stumbled upon Marble Hornets and Slenderman, and fell in love with found footage, immersive storytelling, and horror (my only prior exposure to horror had been the original Alien and 'Blink' from Doctor Who). Marble Hornets and EverymanHYBRID were what pushed me into filmmaking and especially into ARGs from a young age. I proceeded to spend years wanting to make an ARG, until finally, mid-pandemic in October of 2020, I decided that there was no time like the present, and I spent basically all day every day for the following 14 months working on the project. What started out as, let's be real, a very Local58/Gemini Home Entertainment inspired analog horror series, turned into a sprawling transmedia horror project. 100 episodes, 7 websites, and a feature film finale later, in November 2021, I finally finished it. Walker Creek isn't a Slenderverse series, technically, but it's not just an analog horror series either. Nowadays, when I look back at its style and its inspirations... I know it's basically a Slenderverse series in every way except the presence of Slenderman. But one of the things I like about it is that it is also an analog horror series. It is also a web ARG harkening back to many of my favorites from the 2000s and early 2010s. Like most of my projects, I spent a few years observing what other artists were doing, and then synthesized everything I liked about it into a project of my own.

My feelings about it are complicated sometimes, though. On one hand, Walker Creek is a project I feel incredibly proud of; a project that is so vast I can't even comprehend how I accomplished it with so few resources. A project that gave me my first and second feature films, two online friends, a space to experiment as an artist and find my voice as a storyteller for the first time, and a foothold in the ARG & indie film space. Walker Creek was never 'popular', but I can't say it was anything other than a success; I grew an audience from nothing (by self-promoting as 'adamtheargguy' on Reddit - yes I'll finally admit that was me), gathered a dedicated base of players for the ARG elements, and genuinely impacted people. One of the most stunning aspects of that project to me was how much Walker Creek mattered to the diehard ~10 players who kept up with it 24/7, investing themselves in the story, making friends with the characters, making memes of me and my friends from the videos, and even moderating a Discord server (which, occasionally, still has people who send messages every once in a while). Inversely, it's also wild to think about how much that community mattered to me while it was running. There's a reason I came back to do a little mini anniversary sequel ARG in October 2022 (though nobody really knows about it!) and it wasn't because Walker Creek needed a story continuation; it was to celebrate the community. Walker Creek was a story and a playerbase for me to interact with, but it was also a social outlet. I think, for as much 'roleplaying' there was in the character accounts, there was a lot of the real me in there too. And as mentioned above, I am still friends with two of the people from that community; one of my most recent reminders of Walker Creek was one of them asking to name a character of theirs after a character in Walker Creek. And beyond that, Walker Creek spun off in so many other directions too. I have a Trailhead research post on the Night Mind Index about Walker Creek, and a video on his channel about that post (and even though I hoped for it for the entire duration of the project, NightMind never covered the series... but from my perspective now, I think being spotlighted in his Trailhead research project is actually way cooler). Also Nexpo watched the series and Wendigoon said he was going to make a video about the series and then just... didn't? LOL. God, I haven't thought about those things in ages. It's funny how big all of it felt at the time, and how inconsequential it seems in retrospect. It hasn't even been that long. I mean, I still remember the day that Walker Creek gave me probably the most important development in my career - in late November 2021, when I was invited into a Discord server with a bunch of major ARG creators because of the 'Making Of' documentary I made about the series. It was the moment where I finally felt like I was part of the ARG creator community. Without all of that, I might never have made The History of Analog Horror, or Slenderverse: A Documentary Film Series, or What I Remember, or my other unannounced projects. That's why Walker Creek still got a reference in the Slenderverse doc series, and in my upcoming feature. It's a core part of my journey as a creator, of the development of my skills as a filmmaker, and even of my knowledge base as an ARG historian/researcher.

And yet at the same time -- the 'other hand' I've been trying to get to for the last paragraph: I feel a dissonance with Walker Creek. A feeling of dread sinks in every time someone tells me that they watched Walker Creek, or the 'Making of' documentary that accompanied it. From time to time, I go back and rewatch bits of my old projects just for fun, but I never rewatch any of Walker Creek or the documentary about it. Hell, there's a part of me that thinks I might not even going to publish this blog post when I get to the end of writing it. I'm here because there's a part of me that doesn't want to forget it, yet another, stronger part has an intense aversion to revisiting it. There is so much that I would cringe at, yes, but beyond that, there are so many of my personal feelings bleeding through and so much to be reminded of regarding what was happening behind the scenes with all the former friends I made that project with.

It's shocking, in a way, how distant it feels to me despite how recently it concluded, a mere three years ago. In the intervening time, I've made so much more material, grown so much as a filmmaker, and have gone through so many seismic shifts in my life and my perspective as both an artist and as a human being. Like let's be real, I still thought I was cis when I made that series! But more than that, I've now gone from an amateur with almost zero experience to an indie filmmaker funding my own films and building a career, now with eight features under my belt (six released, two in post production). It's quite literally a different era of my life -- and it's not like that's something that's hard to conceptualize; I even said something almost identical at the end of the 'Making Of' doc... but it doesn't always feel like the end of an era when you're in it. Chapters in real life don't start and end cleanly like in a book. There's bleed. And so, as much as Walker Creek 'ended' in November 2021, it didn't feel like it was over in those next few months, when I was adjusting to no longer living in that imagined world every single day. It didn't feel like it was over when I made The History of Analog Horror, since I was literally using Walker Creek & its companion doc as a foundation to get resources and as the basis for exploring my own inspirations. I guess in retrospect, that doc was a bit of a personal sendoff for Walker Creek -- a full circle moment where I got to finally bridge my work and the work of those that inspired me into a single project. I was able to get some distance from it with that, but even then... it didn't feel completely over in December 2022 when I was writing scripts for a spiritual successor ARG taking place in the same world. It didn't feel completely over in February 2023 when I did an interview for the Ludic Society and, unexpectedly, half of the interview was about Walker Creek.

I think now though -- and part of the reason I'm writing this post -- is it does feel over. I don't know when that happened. I wish I knew what that exact moment was. But I just know that now, after my identity and life has changed so much, and after spending two years on the Slenderverse series, while simultaneously spending the past year working on my found footage feature, and now working on a new doc series and another feature screenplay, there's so much distance between me and Walker Creek. And yet, as I said, I don't want to fully let it go. My found footage feature has a reference to it, as will my next screenplay, as will the webseries I'm working on (Grimoire), as will my next doc series, probably. It's a weird feeling and Walker Creek feels weird to think about, but I'm so glad it happened. Its DNA is present in every project I do, because I wouldn't have been set on my current path without it. Even if its now only in indirect ways, pretty much everything I do has built off of Walker Creek in some way. Even my email signoff, 'kind regards', comes from a character in Walker Creek. And in the end, I think all of this is why I'm not really able to shake Walker Creek, even if it feels over, or distant, or dissonant to my current self. And one day, maybe I'll be able to revisit it properly.

One final note: today is the 4th anniversary of the series, but in-universe, yesterday, October 23rd, was the 'Harvest Festival' (chosen because it's the same date as the bombs dropping in the Fallout universe). So... happy (late) Harvest Festival to anyone still hanging around from that era who remembers why the Harvest Festival is important. And for one final deep cut reference... long live Yvrisil.

Kind Regards,

Alex Hera

[silenthowls]

Now that I've gathered some thoughts and done some brainstorming with a few people, I'm going to be making a more cohesive timeline and put my plot ideas from my initial post here so everything is all organized. Later, I will be making a specific page for events summarizing Yohan's reactions and interactions during them for posterity ~ I'll also do smth similar to this when the next part of the event hits as well.

⸻ THE ALIBI

Yohan was, admittedly, not thinking of giving too many people an out for this one. Unless you were Bae Yunhee, that is. The narrative is that Yohan overheard their plans to go to the resort for a getaway; his own presence there being a reluctant chaperone and alibi for their sake. Just in case their parents disapproved of their sudden private tryst and needed an out for being alone together. The rest of the story is that he, for the most part, kept to himself, wandering around the building quietly like a man intent on meditating — which is actually true to the real events of that day prior to the dinner party.

⸻ TIMELINE

DEC 20TH : Yohan was out on an arranged date when the news broke, and proceeded to make several phone calls. Needless to say, he rushed back to campus the minute after he hears it, trying not to throw himself into a panic. That night is his first sleepless one — he stays up all night.

DEC 21ST : The funeral comes fast; so fast that Yohan still hardly has much time to register what's happened. It is clear he is in distress. During this day, he is quiet, trembling as he attempts to keep himself together in the presence of others. He mentions after, off-hand, that maybe he should speak to the police.

DEC 22ND : By now, it is beyond clear Yohan has hardly gotten much sleep in the past two days, nor eaten from the way his stomach bubbles in protest. However, he is in intent on attending each day of the funeral. His parents attend with him this time to console Hyungseo's. Unfortunately, this is also the day Yohan happens to lose his mind and has his outburst, spurred on by the hostility that already rests in the air. He is dragged away and piled into his parent's car. They take him home shortly after where he continues his meltdown and subsequently punches a hole in the wall of his room. His father gives him the beating of the lifetime to knock some sense into him, and discipline him for embarrassing them in front of everyone. "You may be too old to send back, but we can sure as hell disown you. Did you forget how lucky you are?"

DEC 23RD : Yohan shows up to the final day, too; more rested, but keeping to himself this time. There is a bandage over his knuckles now and a far off look in his eye, light wincing as he walks. It is quite obvious he is seething, though. The same day, he visits the memorial for the first time and places the pocket watch he intended to gift Hyungseo after his victory among the other things. He decides it's time to throw himself head first into self-destructive behaviors.

DEC 24TH : Another memorial visit to assess what's been left for Hyungseo. Another day of thinking of taking up smoking. Another day of plotting revenge on everyone who has wronged him and Hyungseo.

DEC 25TH : His father, once again, is unhappy with his adopted son. He's caught wind of the police interview taking place the next day and decides to remind Yohan of his place. If he had any thought of exposing the entire thing, it's been forced out of him now. He's in no mood for Christmas dinner and leaves to do something more productive with his time.

DEC 26TH : The interrogation, interview; whatever you may call it. Yohan keeps to himself for the most part if he sees anyone at the station. He's decided. Everyone will pay for this somehow.

⸻ PLOT IDEAS

It is a couple days after Hyungseo is found. His funeral is taking place, and Yohan is none too calm about it. When his outburst comes, only MUSE A is the one who takes action and pulls him back before something bad happens. They are the one who loads him into the car that takes him to his parents' home where he is met with his own version of Hell. Not that they would ever know what they'd done.

SONG SUNYOUNG is determined to convince Yohan to cease in his determination to tell the entire truth. Whether it's done in a gentle manner or not is of no consequence. He doesn't seem like he's backing down the day the news is revealed, and he has it already set in his mind. Maybe it's time to set him straight. But, at least you aren't the only one trying to talk some sense into the man.

In this time, Yohan finds himself more willing to do things he wouldn't normally be inclined to do. In his search for distractions and in his attempt to put his mind off of completely going off the deep end, he finds solace in MUSE C for the time being. What's a little scandalous rendezvous between two people in a difficult time? Especially if it means he will chill out a bit and stop threatening to cause havoc? It might offer a temporary slice of stress relief along the way. And, no, it doesn't matter if they've always hated each other or will ruin their friendship with it.

MUSE D just doesn't get it. What was so great about Hyungseo anyway, and why is Yohan so damn hung up on someone like him? They are the first to express this out loud, deriding the man's method of mourning. It seems he's lost his mind, after all, so aren't their feelings justified? Anyway, it wouldn't be the first or last person who Yohan gets in a fight with during this week of turmoil. Physically or otherwise.

[its-reddie123]

God's cross

Chapter 2

Content warnings: lots of potential triggers such as homophobic language and actions and references to self harm and suicide and torture and institutional abuse

AN- this is based heavily on the film 'the miseducation of Cameron post' and wrote this ages ago before seeing the whole film, it is a bit heavy but doesnt actually go super into anything, figured i may as well upload the rest even though its been years lol, see chapter 1 here:

“And so I said look Greta if your interested your going to have to actually fucking kiss me otherwise this is a no go, and she said she couldn’t do that, can you believe that shit?” Beverly was immersed in telling Stan about her and Greta when Richie returned but Beverly barely noticed and continued her discussion

“I mean I can bev, the point of this place is not to be gay” Stan said giggling and whispering the last part even though the cafeteria was mostly empty now.

“Stanley this is not a laughing matter Beverly’s love life is the highest of importance” Richie added

This just made Stan laugh more Beverly was laughing now too and soon they were all roaring with laughter. Then a matron came over telling them to stop and took Stan away and Beverly and Richie proceeded to go bunk prayer group together.

*

Later that day Richie went to the communal showers. It had been a long hot day and he desperately needed to wash before bed. When entering it was apparent straight away something was wrong , the room was full of steam the heat hitting Richie like a wall. Then he heard the sobbing at first he couldn’t hear it properly over the shower that was pumping out all the hot water and it just sounded like small whimpers but as he drew closer it was clear they were huge ragged sobs. When he rounded the corner it made horrific sense, Eddie was curled up into a ball on the floor crying uncontrollably his legs and arms a bright red, painfully burnt from the hot water. He sat there letting the water hit his red back , Richie ran over to the shower turning it off

“Fuck fuck fuck” Richie ran over to Eddie wrapping him in a towel.

Eddie just sat there, tears still falling down his face as Richie sat down opposite “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Eddie looked down to the floor

“Was this about what happened earlier? You are clean Eddie your the cleanest I have ever seen a person, ever I promise you were never dirty in the first place”

Eddie looked up at him with round eyes, as these were exactly the words he had wanted to hear for such a long time.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah I do” he nodded “so this is because we kissed?” Richie asked tentatively, Eddie dropped his head down again.

“Yeah I guess, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have done what I did it was wrong, very wrong”

Richie felt his heart jolt just seeing someone so torn up like Eddie was, he wanted to protect him but didn’t know what to say

“Did Bev tell you about me?” Eddie asked still looking at the floor

“I may have made enquiries yes, about the pretty boy who kept starring at me”

“Does she hate me?”

“No but you really hurt her, I don’t think she hates you though, she just didn’t like you left her all alone”

“Would she forgive me?”

“I don’t know, probably” Richie had edged slightly closer and was twiddling Eddies damp hair between his fingers. Very slowly Eddie moved his head to lay it against Richie’s shoulder leaning in towards his neck, Eddies hot breathe against Richie’s neck sent shivers down his spine.

“You know I don’t actually know your name” Eddie whispered into Richie’s neck

“Richie” he whispered back, wrapping his arms around Eddie pulling him closer. They sat like that for what felt like hours on the wet shower floor. Richie never did get round to washing that night.

*

Things were looking up despite the dire circumstances, Stan was now a fully active member of their group and had began joining the two in their little trips to the sports shed after dark. They would sit up and talk about everything and nothing which became their own kind of counter therapy.

Eddie hadn’t approached Richie again since that night in the showers and had said he needed some time, and Richie didn’t want to impose so he left him be. This was until one Saturday about a month into Richie’s time at the camp, he knew he hadn’t seen the worst of the place as he’d been complicit with basically all the demands. He heard things about those who weren’t so compliant with the programme so he continuously avoided the urge to get up and punch all of them in the face. What they said was always so wrong “diseased” , “disgusting” , “dead inside” it made him so angry having to listen to that bullshit every day in and out, he’d had got to the stage of clenching his fists during the sessions so hard he had started to scar the inside of his hands with his nails. This is how he ended up seeing Eddie again.

Eddie was on his way to lunch crossing the deserted court yard. He was thinking about Richie like how his dark curls hit his forehead, how his brown eyes shon through his glasses the freckles on his face and his lips...a sudden flash of green crossed his vision followed by a loud *SMASH*. Eddie hesitantly went round the corner the plant had came flying from finding Richie kicking an old wooden bench into splinters while swearing repeatedly under his breath , His face red and frustrated.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie asked nervous, he hadn’t really seen someone this angry before.

Richie stopped in his tracks a little when he realised it was Eddie “I’m fine” he walked away crossing the field, Eddie following him

“I wanna talk to you”

“Not now I... I don’t want to hurt you or anything so just walk away Eddie”

“No”

“Walk away!”

“I have already had enough hurt for a life time I’m sure you couldn’t possibly do anything that’s worse” the hot mid day sun was beat down on their backs

“I really like you Richie!” Eddie shouted as Richie began to get further away “do you know how hard it is for me to say that! You gotta help me I can’t do this on my own and neither can you, tell me what’s wrong, please” Richie stopped and turned around

“I’m just sick of feeling disgusted with myself” Richie said turning around his fists clenched avoiding eddies eyes. Eddie began closing the distance between them until they were almost face to face

“So am I, but if we were...” he was cut off as Richie suddenly took Eddies face in his hands connecting their desperate mouths while Eddie grasped his hands around Richie’s neck to close the last bit of distance between the two. Richie pulled away quickly

“Not here”

“Yeah, I know a place” Eddie said raising his eyebrows and taking Richie’s large calloused hand in his smaller one entwining their fingers.

*

“Hey bev?”

“What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” Eddie sat down next to her in the empty library.

“About what?” She said eyeing him with caution

“I wanted to say sorry, I know I can’t fix it I cant really justify what I did either just know I was in a really dark place I couldn’t... see you because then might have sent me back, they still could send me back”

“But back where, Eddie? What happened? Why did you say those things” Bev said tears beginning to brim in her eyes

“It was like torture, I didn’t know how long I was going to be down there when I would see the light of day again, they broke me put me back together in the wrong way, I don’t really... can’t really go into the details” Eddie drew in a shaky breathe tears beginning to fall down his face

“I said it because I wanted them to know I was like how I was before that I really had changed, but I haven’t Bev and I don’t know what to do” Eddie then broke down completely and Beverly brought him into a strong hug.

“Is this about you and Richie?” She asked pulling away and using her thumb to brush away stray tears on his now shocked face.

“How did you know?”

“I’m not dumb, I’ve seen it several times where you two leave at the same time to go to ‘the toilets’” she said with air quotes

Eddie smiled his cheeks turning a dusty red.

“Yeah but it’s not all about... that, I really really like him “

“Do you love him?” Beverly grinned

“To be honest I think I am falling for him it’s terrifying thing not just because I’m worried he doesn’t feel the same but because I know it’s all wrong there’s this voice that keeps telling me it’s wrong Bev that’s what I was talking about before I don’t know what to do” more tears traced down his face.

“It’s how you feel Eddie it’s not wrong, we’ll figure this out I promise” she smiled solemnly

*

“Hey Richie, Bev she’s in trouble” Stan ran up to him as Richie was about to enter the dining hall,

“Shit what is it?”

“Greta and her started a shouting match in the middle of cafeteria and then Greta started beating her up”

Richie didn’t need to hear anymore he ran through to medium sized hall scanning the room. Eddie was by his side almost instantly as Richie’s eyes landed on the the two girls who were surrounded by seemingly every fucking teenager there was in the camp the majority egging the two girls on.

They were on the floor rolling about, screeching, pulling hair, punching. Beverly seemed to be holding her own but she did have a bloody nose and red marks all up her arm. Richie was first to push through the crowd surrounding them girls and tried pulling away Greta only to receive and elbow right to the nose. He stumbled back stan and Eddie holding him up but before anymore of them could even attempt to intervene suddenly another figure was pushing through the crowd, one of the matrons. She pulled Beverly away by the arms as she resisted kicking and screaming but the matron was unfazed

“She tried to touch me miss!” Greta shouted standing up with her fair share of cuts and bruises

“Oh fuck off greta! you fucking BITCH!!” Beverly shouted still struggling as to no prevail to get away from the matron.

The three boys watched helplessly as their friend was dragged away

“Fuck it” Stan said running after her

“No don’t! it’s no use Stan!” Eddie shouted but it was too late he had already rounded the corner

*

Beverly and Stan weren’t seen for another three days. Richie had gone into complete lock down making sure Eddie kept close by him, they sat together in the food hall only showing any affection after dark when they both snuck out to see each other in the old garage Eddie had shown him, Richie was not having them taking any chances.

“I don’t know how you like me” Eddie said cutting through the silence

“What do you mean? How could I not? You’re my Eddie spaghetti” Richie said tousling eddies hair while pulling him closer on their makeshift bed of old blankets and pillows.

“I’m so gross and like slimy sometimes I feel like one of those ugly goblins you have in fairy stories”

“Shut up! your gorgeous”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes, an infinite times yes”

“Damn I can’t argue with that”

Richie pulled him closer into a kiss, the whole world dropping away, he loved when it was just them

“It’s getting late I don’t wanna get caught” Eddie said looking at his watch

“Nooooo 5 more minutes” Richie said as he clung to Eddie kissing his neck

“Ah why are you like this?” Eddie said giggling and struggling to free himself from Richie who was now blowing raspberries into his neck

They crept back to the dorms and Richie waved goodbye and started closing his door when he saw the matron grab Eddie by the collar

“What are you doing sneaking out of bed?! Trying to sleep with other boys again?! We shall be having none of that from you” she screeched whilst quickly dragging him away by the collar before Richie could even begin to protest

Neither of them slept that night

[ofmoonlily]

//Hello everyone. Good afternoon. Or good eventing. ^^ Hiatus is officially over.

I really wanted to say 'thank you' to everyone who sent me such wonderful messages on my break post. I was overjoyed to witness how much I was truly loved, and encouraged to look after myself. It meant so much to me. ^^

To those of you who reached out on discord and kept a steady conversation with me, comforted me when I was at my lowest, and proceeded to make me smile by showing me your arts, making me laugh until I cried with little crack scenarios between our muses, or spamming each other with horrible memes we found. I really, really needed that. Thank you so much, my friends. <3

To the ones who created a server with me, pushing for an entirely new world with my muse while continuing to endure my ooc shenanigans when I'm hyper and bouncing off of the walls. Thank you. So much.

To the ones who talk to me about fleshing out our au's together, showing and explaining to each other how our muse works in that universe, what their abilities entail, and their backstories moving their struggles. I'm always keeping those lovely experiences so close to my heart. I've learned so much, and enjoyed all the stories shared with me.

To the ones who allowed me to vent my sorrows when life wasn't going well - who hugged and humored me with various topics and speaking about characters we're obsessed with. It meant so much. <3

Thank you all so very much for tolerating everything I do here, and continue to cheer me up with fun and games. I am indebted to you, and so so very grateful for all the kind words, check-ins, and advice you shared with me while I was away.

You mean the world to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. <3

[starrypeeps-headcanons]

Soooo... I didn't continue this (extra heretic) headcanon of mine from this post but now that we are here...

So I want to begin by saying that the whole KDL2 and KDL3 events happened mostly due to a personal vendetta plus some other reasons... But mostly due to the former.

You'll see why:

FAR, FAR BEFORE ANY OF THIS EVER HAPPENED

While Nightmare and Zero hadn't directly interacted yet, they did know about each other. Zero saw Nightmare as a very well-put and organized businessman with a great trajectory. Nightmare on the other hand thought of Zero as an intellectual with an excellent sense of strategy and leadership, although a bit unfocused calling him "a lazy genius".

Zero has really never found Nightmare to be a threat in spite of the latter's habit of conquering and destroying planets and civilizations. Not until, Nightmare attempted to get him to join, Zero always maintained a negative posture towards this proposition, however, this wouldn't stop Nightmare from meddling with what's not his...

Consisting of stealing Dark Matter for business profits and other nefarious things, this made Zero very angry and declared enmity with Nightmare ever since.

The few times they did interact physically almost always ended in a hostile note. This reached its peak when Nightmare came to the main Dark Matter cumulus and came to ask Zero for one last time to leave their differences aside and invited him to join him in his conquering.

Zero still denied the offer and before he could even do something, Nightmare quickly drew a sword and cut his head off. Of course, Zero didn't die since he's immortal, he furiously picked his head off the ground with the intention of getting immediate revenge but Nightmare was already long gone.

But, this didn't die here, this was just the beginning of everything...

The occasion arose when NOVA invited Zero to attempt to solve some past differences (will be explained later). Nightmare (nobody knows how...) managed to find them and began taunting Zero over the last time they met. Zero had a plan, a very risky and even borderline stupid plan, but he had a plan.

Zero got into a defensive position, which Nightmare took as a challenge and drew his sword out. Zero quickly proceeded to turn to NOVA and ripped one of her magical parts.

Nightmare still didn't budge.

This was just what he needed, of course, NOVA's magic is light magic in its purest form, using it meant that either this was going to be a definite win or would get the two of them severely hurt (even killed), since both are beings of negative energy.

Zero ran towards Nightmare and so did his opponent, Nightmare brandished his weapon but this time, Zero did manage to avoid his attack and kept briefly avoiding and blocking Nightmare's attacks until he saw the perfect moment, put the weapon to work and lanced Nightmare with it, while quickly trying to get away as fast as he could.

Nightmare screamed in agony, and while Zero was also hurt, it wasn't nearly as bad as Nightmare. He managed to make Nightmare go away for a long time and that's all that mattered.

Of course, he knew he would eventually appear, either by his own accord or someone would be stupid enough to summon him.

With this in mind, Zero basically dedicated himself for the longest time to find the people who awoke Nightmare up, kill them and enclose Nightmare all over again (skipping the first two steps in case there was no one to blame); becoming a sort of legend in the process.

His most successful attempt at locking him away was at the Dream Fountain, while risky (for the same reasons of using NOVA's artifacts), it seemed to really keep him there for a very long while.

Now, even when Nightmare wasn't active, he obviously had his subordinates doing his job, Zero also went on his way to eliminate all of them... or at least he thought he took all of them out.

Nightmare's most successful and loyal worker, The Salesman, managed to run away from Zero's deadly grip and enlarge the presence of Nightmare's business across other corners of the galaxy while he wasn't present.

FAST FORWARD TO THE ANIME

Escargoon and Dedede sign a contract with eNeMe Enterprises as part of an FTA and while Nightmare wasn't awake, The Salesman was sure doing everything possible to make sure Dreamland was next to be conquered, while also avoiding Zero at all coasts.

Year after year of unsuccessful attempts at conquering Dreamland (therefore Pop Star), the FTA was broken by the King's side, leaving both Escargoon and DDD with a huge debt impossible to pay and The Salesman roaming around away from Zero's reach.

FAST FORWARD TO NIGHTMARE IN DREAMLAND

Kirby and Dedede foolishly get Nightmare out of his enclosure and its both's duty to get him back into the Dream Fountain.

In another part of the Galaxy, Zero was informed of Nightmare's presence around and that two fools managed to succesfully bring him back on Pop Star. Zero was usually characterized for being very stoic and composed, even in dire situations, at most, he was usually a victim of silent rage episodes. Not this time, Zero was completely furious and out of his usual element, the other Dark Matters were completely scared, as seeing him being this out-of-control state was a (terrifying) rarity.

After briefly calming down, Zero plotted a raid on Dreamland, to search for every corner of the planet and bring in the people responsible of releasing Nightmare back so he can kill them.

Even when in the middle of being his plan he was told that he was enclosed again by the same people, he was still adamant to have them executed since he couldn't trust they wouldn't bring Nightmare back again.

AND SO KDL2 BEGAN

Zero sent the Dark Matter twins (and other drones) to start the invasion in Dreamland, in search for the two nimrods responsible for initially releasing Nightmare. The first one being located was the king and while he tried to fight back it was futile.

Kirby on the other hand, dark matters really never thought he could throw hands so efficiently and he sure was giving them the challenge of their lives.

By the end of this journey, Kirby had to get Dark Matter out of Dedede's body to give the final fight and drive all dark matters away from Dreamland, which he succeeded and took the two (very injured) twins out of Dreamland.

But things weren't remotely done...

In spite of the twins' failure to bring them with his leader to make those two pay for their tomfoolery, Zero knew that wasting time moping served for nothing, and took matters into his own hands.

PLANNING FOR KDL3 TO HAPPEN

Zero went on his way to seek for those two morons, of course, now it was easier since, he was told where he could find both the king and the kid. And now he set himself to shroud every corner in Pop Star with his presence, he was not going to let them escape from him any time soon.

He sure was really good at giving the heroes something to be occupied... Specially now that Dedede was so close to be executed, not before having a drone use his body as a puppet (again).

And sure, Dedede was going to be used to subdue Kirby and then have them both killed.

But even with all the momentum and Dedede at his feet, Zero suffered from the same results of his most experienced fighters, and with the little strength he had left, took all of himself away from Pop Star.

POST-... ALL OF THIS

After disappearing from Pop Star, Zero, just like the twins, got thrown into a pile of Dark Matter that allowed him to heal completely, because of his injuries and boy did it take him time...

While he didn't invade Pop Star again, and he's glad that Nightmare hasn't come back with his fuckery, he keeps holding a deep grudge against Kirby and Dedede, mostly towards Kirby and has remained like that even up to Star Allies.

[marengogo]

30-11-22 UPDATE

Hello everyone,

Stopping by for a quick update~ November has been putting me through the ringer NOT 👏🏾 EVEN 👏🏾 GONNA 👏🏾 LIE 👏🏾. Now not sure how December gonna be but I just need for this damned month to end! Wanna see something interesting? Let’s look at my Spotify Wrapped, I have been waiting for it for the past 3 days and I think it is fairly peculiar … 

As you can see from my top songs, my soul was fairly tormented in a quite intimate way except for Crush Hour of course … For the rest I wasn’t surprised to be honest I mean, I didn’t think I made it to the 0.5% of top BTS listeners, but here I am admittedly I do listen to a lot of their songs for various reasons and various times so it makes sense.

I really want to write, but also my brain is kinda telling me to leave it alone at the same time THE STRUGGLE IS REAL. But who knows, I kinda really want to finally write my post on “Captain Jay” J-Hope was a REAL big part of my 2022 NGL or continue with my Jikook Serendipity Story … Let’s see where the Pinot Grigio takes me after another episode of 1899; might just be straight to bed tbh. 

On a separate last note, as I stopped to get this Pinot Grigio that I’m about to drink, I almost bumped into two children with really long hair, one wearing a dress and another a trousers and a Tee. They were running, as kids do, but they apologised and as I reflex I also apologised and said “Sorry Girls” as I walked out the store, as this happened right in front of the exit.

As I stepped out, my brain had a panic moment where it went “Did I just assume they were girls?” and then I almost turned back, but proceeded walking instead and my brain then went “... I should have said Sorry Kids” and I just kept thinking of what I could have said instead of girls and what I would like to get my brain to say/react from then onwards. Right before I got home, I then realised that I really appreciated my brain having this moment. I loved the fact that it felt alarmed and that me saying “Sorry Girls!” without knowing, felt wrong.

And Imma leave y’all on this note! Enjoy the rest of the even and here’s wishing you all a chill, if nothing else, December!

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾,

Marengo.

[kurishiri]

25 . . . alfons main story — blind love finale

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none, hope you enjoy 🪞🤍

—— Alfons’ POV ——

If life were a fairy tale, finding happiness would be a simple thing.

Do not lend your ear to dangerous temptations.

Do not be misled by convenient illusions.

If you do that, an ordinary happiness filled with peace will await you, overflowing.

But——is such happiness not just nothing short of a bore?

—— Kate’s POV ——

Jude: Oi, ya pleb. Take it.

Kate: Hm? Wah— ...a letter?

This morning marked the third to last day before the promised month was over.

While eating breakfast, an envelope was waved before me.

And then, the one who had thrown it down before me proceeded to sit in his seat and open a newspaper without bothering to give any explanation.

Ellis: Your letter got mixed up with the ones meant for Jude.

Kate: Ah, I see, so that’s what happened.

Alfons: Well, isn’t this a sight to behold, to think Jude didn’t burn the letter that got mixed up to cinders and instead brought it to the recipient in person.

Jude: Ain’t gonna matter if it’s in the furnace or a plate, throwin’s still throwin’.

Ellis: Who’s the letter from?

Kate: Let’s see... oh, it’s from the head of the post office.

When I opened it, there on it said——

Kate: ‘If you are returning after your tenure at the castle ends, you’re always welcome back’... is what’s written.

(Returning, huh...)

I narrowed my eyes as the scent of the stationary and envelope from my life once upon a time wafted.

Kate: It’s a bit nostalgic... my time working as a postwoman seems like such a long time ago now.

Liam: Wait, Kate, you’re heading back? To the post office.

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: ...That’s up to Kate. We shouldn’t meddle with that.

Liam: But, Al’s curious too, right?

Alfons: As much as the next person.

Alfons slowly turned his gaze to me.

Alfons: If Kate is doing things she finds fun, is that not enough?

Kate: ——Yes, of course.

K: That’s exactly what I intend to do.

—— Time skip ——

Victor: Mhm, yep, it’s very well written.

V: I’d expect nothing less of Miss Kate, indeed. The details are all specific and it’s flawless.

Kate: Thank you, Victor.

Victor: In the first part, I can really feel your will to try and understand all the Cursed ones equally.

V: But then in the middle, you gradually put your research findings regarding the Mirror Curse to the end.

Kate: ...Although it’s embarrassing, I have no excuse to give...

Little by little, as I continued to write the report, just like within my mind,

it wasn’t long before Alfons appeared before me in this reality, encroaching upon me.

Victor: I’m sure Roger would be delighted if you were to give him this as a present.

(...Sorry about that, but actually, I did already give him this ‘as a present.’)

I shared the summarized version of the second half with Roger.

(I can’t really tell Victor how I leaked some of the report that was meant for Her Majesty.)

But I wanted to continue to be of some help to Roger.

After all, his knowledge and research was needed and imperative for the things I ‘wanted to do.’

——Is that not a bribe? I see you have no room to say anything about me now, do you.

(No, it’s not that. This is just... a bit of an investment for the future. Yes, an investment.)

I responded to the Alfons in my mind with patently empty words.

Victor: Tomorrow would mark the promised last day.

V: This past month, as per your contract, you have kept our secret and recorded their sins.

V: Should you make it through this night——you will be free.

V: So would you mind if I asked? How would you like to live from here on out?

Kate: I——

K: I would like to continue finding a way to escape Alfons’ fate, as fairytale keeper.

When I looked up, Victor quietly narrowed his eyes.

Their eyes as they gleamed in the darkness of the night——I recalled the day I first saw them.

I had thought to myself how much I wanted to run away, but now I didn’t want to leave this place.

After all, I had found something important to do, and I couldn’t do it anywhere but here.

Victor: ...And why do you want to?

Kate: The marks he had engraved in me, I don’t want to forget them. Not a single one.

K: If, by any chance, he dies before me——at that time I want to say ‘I most definitely will not forget.’

K: And, if possible... I don’t want those words to amount to a convenient illusion.

K: I want them to be the reality.

The fates of the Cursed ones were absolute.

But——I couldn’t simply give up without trying anything.

(And besides, above all...)

Kate: I’m going to spend my whole life to make Alfons, who thinks that doing so is impossible,

K: eat his own words, you can bet on it!

Victor: ... (O_O)

Kate: After all, if I were to reverse a tragedy on its heels, it would become the ultimate comedy, right?

I knew it was mostly a gamble.

It was a match that would last a lifetime.

And if I were to lose, only despair would await.

(But, I will definitely turn this into a comedy.)

(I won’t let that person dance upon the stage of a tragedy.)

Victor: ...A way to escape from the fates, huh. ...For sure.

V: That’s a wonderful goal. And I do have an inkling in me that, if it’s you——you will be able to do it.

V: You are free. You can go anywhere you’d like, and you can do whatever you want.

V: And whenever you feel lost... may you never forget that we are your allies.

Kate: ...Yes, I will. Thank you very much.

Victor: Well then, let me say once again——welcome, Kate.

V: I am sure the world of darkness will take you in with open arms.

—— Time skip; city at night ——

——I was on the way back after receiving permission to meet the head of the post office and submitting my letter of resignation.

Harrison was the one who accompanied me, and while walking a few steps behind me, he asked.

Harrison: Hey... are you really okay with this?

Kate: What do you mean?

Harrison: I’m pretty sure you know by now, but... Al is out somewhere in the night city again right about now.

Kate: ...Yes, I know.

Although we were now in a relationship, it seemed Alfons still continued with his ‘indulgent private life.’

Harrison: Here you are, having thrown your old life for this dark path, too...

H: But you’re okay with this?

Kate: ...I——

When I opened my mouth to answer, a single carriage stopped beside us.

(W-what...!?)

On my toes, the door to the carriage opened and——

Harrison: ——!

Kate: Eek—!?

An arm came out and pulled me inside.

(Who, what!? An enemy of Crown!? Or a kidnapper!?)

Alfons: Kate, it’s me.

Kate: A-Alfons!?

I didn’t even have time to be surprised as the carriage departed.

Kate: Ah, I need to let Harrison know...!

Alfons: The exterior shows it’s a carriage used by Crown, so I take it Harrison saw that for the most part.

(Oh, I see...)

When I realized I was the only one panicking, I felt a bit frustrated at that

as I looked beside me at Alfons.

(Ah, he isn’t giving off that fragrance today...)

On days he went out to play at night, like a symbol of his indulgent private life,

he would always be covered in the sickly sweet fragrance of night.

—— Flashback ——

Harrison: Here you are, having thrown your old life for this dark path, too...

H: But you’re okay with this?

—— End flashback ——

The words from just a bit ago flashed through my mind and——

[1] Were you in that shady room?

[2] Were you out drinking?

[3] Did you show illusions somewhere? (+4 / +4)

Kate: Did you show illusions somewhere?

Alfons: Well, I suppose so, something like that.

Seeing his nonchalant profile, I pushed my pent feelings down my throat.

My feelings felt vague, unsure if I wanted to press him further or if I was scared to, as they whirled in my mind.

Alfons: ...Do you dislike that?

But then, Alfons was the one to do the asking.

Kate: That... if I said I didn’t dislike it at all, that would be a lie...

I couldn’t bring myself to scold him for it.

(It’s not that I’m scared of being thought of as troublesome or anything like that.)

(Because, I...)

Kate: ...It’s because you do those types of things that I fell in love with you.

K: Whether you’re showing illusions in the slums, or you’re giving an escape at the back of the pub,

K: or something else entirely... Well, I don’t really know,

K: but what I do know is that there is a kind of pain there that makes you want to give such a space.

Alfons: ...

(I don’t have to see his face to know he’s stunned.)

But, it couldn’t be helped.

Kate: Anyway, it’s fine! Ah... but, at least...

K: When it comes to things like kisses or ‘giving love’ to others from your heart and whatnot... please leave that just for me.

Alfons: ... (O_O)

A: Well then——would it be safe to say that doing these kinds of things is alright with others?

Kate: ...?

Alfons’ palm wrapped around my waist next to him.

He pulled me in, and with no place to run, his hands traced my legs, causing my body to jump.

Alfons: Do you not want me to touch anyone other than you?

His other hand messed with my skirt, making their way from my back to my chest, playing with me from over my clothes.

I held back the voice that was about to come out, and he sweetly bit my ears.

Kate: hah, uh...

Alfons: Say, Kate,

A: just how far can I take it?

Kate: ah, ah...

When his fingers were about to slip beneath my undergarments, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and I rose a white flag.

Kate: ...N-no...

K: Shouldn’t that be obvious... ah...

Alfons: Hehe, you’re finally honest, I see.

And here I wanted to become an understanding lover, but when my true feelings slipped out, I felt tears prick my eyes.

Seeing me like this, he gave a slightly troubled smile.

Alfons: When it comes to playing at night, it does pain me to say, but I reckon I won’t be able to stop that. It’s my hobby, pleasure, and my life work, you see.

Kate: I...I know...

Alfons: The same applies to drinking and going around showing illusions——but.

A: I would very much like to try my best loving you back to the fullest.

A: So, when it comes to kisses, loving caresses, and sex... I won’t do it with anyone but you.

(I want to believe him, but...)

Kate: ...That’s... definitely a lie...

K: I know you do those kinds of things so I won’t end up in pain again or saddened——

Alfons: Ahha! So you don’t end up in pain? Why, hardly! I assure you I have not an ounce of such intentions.

A: ——You’re happy, aren’t you?

A: I am yours, and yours alone. I will do pleasurable things, only with you.

Kate: ...?

Was it the ‘truth,’ or ‘not the truth’?

Like a coin that continued to spin, there was no way to know the result.

Alfons: Even though there’s no way to know if these words are a truth or a lie, they are still engraved in the depths of your heart,

A: and surely, you will remember them every time I go out at night.

As though being cast by a magic spell, Alfons’ words were indeed engraved in my mind.

Alfons: You may end up tailing me yet again to see if it’s true or not as well, yes?

A: And then if you know them to be true, they will end up carving themselves ever more deeper within you.

A: Then just like that, I do implore you to aaaaaalways think about me.

His words made their way within me.

I was sure it was an evil spell that would root itself once again, intending to cause mischief.

Alfons: And I am not saying I will love you back to the fullest to make you feel better or anything of the sort.

A: I want to make your heart take me in deeper and deeper... so I can leave a scar that will never fade away.

Kate: ...uu...

I couldn’t take it anymore, and finally tears spilled from my eyes.

Alfons, as though comforting a child, wiped those tears with a smile.

Alfons: Aha, have I scared you?

Kate: No...!

K: This is... because I’m happy...

Alfons, who had hoped to disappear without leaving a single trace of him behind, now wanted to leave a deep scar.

And that was the undeniable proof of his love.

Kate: I’m crying... because I’m happy...

Alfons: ...If that’s so, then by all means cry more.

Those wicked hands touched me this time not to test my true feelings, but rather to love me.

Kate: ...But, in this carriage...

Alfons: You also said such a thing before, haven’t you.

A: And at that time, we didn’t go all the way, so——

A: ——Today, make me feel good as well, why don’t you.

That sweet yet dangerous temptation poured into my ear.

He didn’t need to show me an illusion, because I...

——I could no longer resist this voice.

We made love in the cramped carriage, unable to hold back our voices, and we fell into a short sleep there——

Kate: mn...

Alfons: ...Ahh, awake at last, I see?

When I opened my eyes, Alfons voice gently fell upon my eyes.

Alfons: So, how was it? Using my thighs as a pillow, that is.

Kate: ...It felt... really good...

Alfons: I’m glad to hear.

Letting out a giggle, his fingertips gently stroked my hair.

When I slowly lifted my body up, I realized my blouse came loose and was slipping off,

so in a panic, I picked it back up and hid my frontside, and Alfons let out a laugh again, saying ‘there’s no need to hide it at this point.’

Outside the sky started to paint itself in a light pink hue, and it seemed the carriage was parked in front of the entrance of Crown castle.

There was no sign of the coachman.

Alfons, whose back was to the window, was dimly outlined by the light,

and the morning looked as though it was bestowing its blessings upon him as much as the darkness of the night seemed a little reluctant to part ways with him.

He looked so beautiful, it took my breath away as I was drawn to the sight, and our eyes gently met.

Alfons: Say, Kate.

A: The things you ‘want to do’... actually, I was listening in on that.

(Huh...?)

‘I would like to continue finding a way to escape Alfons’ fate.’

What did he think of me then, when I had told Victor that?

Alfons: In all honesty, I thought it was nothing short of foolish.

A: After all, it’s called a ‘fate’ specifically because we can’t escape from it.

Alfons let out a small sigh——and then he smiled calmly.

Alfons: But——I happen to quite like that ever so serious side to you as well.

Kate: ...What do you mean, ‘quite?’ I think you mean to say you like it ‘very much.’

Alfons: .........

(Hm...?)

After a bout of silence — a rare happening to be sure — he gently took my hand.

(Alfons...?)

It was an unusually reverent gesture coming from him, and I was rendered speechless from surprise.

Alfons: ...Truth be told, I am a bit hopeless when it comes to these straight words of love.

A: Perhaps it’s because I’ve come to just throw these ‘I love you’s or ‘I like you’s around without putting my heart into it,

A: but the moment I say them, it feels like they become more of a lie than anything.

A: So, that’s why——I hope you may take this instead.

As though making a sacred vow, he gently pressed his lips on the back of my hand.

Alfons, whose gaze was pointed a bit downwards, seemed very much sincere.

If there was ever such a thing as a ‘true love’s kiss’ in this world,

then there was not a doubt in me that this very kiss would be exactly that.

Alfons: I will make you the happiest you will ever be... and someday, I will make you fall into despair.

I had no way of knowing whether his fate could be changed.

So, that was why, to him, this love may end up paving the path to a tragedy.

But——

Kate: ...I know you will make me the happiest I’ll ever be.

K: But, I won’t ever fall into despair.

Alfons: ...Goodness.

A: Somehow, I do end up feeling that, as long as you’re smiling in the end, any tragedy may end up becoming a comedy.

Kate: Hehe, that’s what I’m here for.

You can make me fed up all you want.

So that’s why, I want Alfons to smile from the bottom of his heart.

Kate: Your life, and my life too... I will turn everything into a comedy.

Alfons: Yes, yes, I hear you.

A: Perhaps we should enjoy this as much as we possibly can then, no?

Mirror, mirror on the wall, show me not a dream I long to see.

Though naught but sad things does reality enthrall...

Lay your truth down here before me.

In my heart, in my body, may you carve it all,

as nevermore upon this love will an illusion dare befall.

Fin.

Act 3 • The sacred kiss

← prev fin. epilogue → his side

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

END NOTES: what did you think?! i’m really weak when stories do that thing where they take the beginning and then put it in the end but with a couple minor changes to show that there was development in the story. i also really do like this end cg too. it’s a bit less dramatic than the mad love one, but i think this very kiss is something very important to both alfons and kate. there’s just a lot of meaning behind it which makes it so quietly beautiful to me.

i would say, if mad love made my heart beat more and had me on the edge of my seat, blind love definitely just made me feel really… happy and soft inside. i’m really proud of how far they’ve come! i hope you enjoyed this story! it was really fun to translate as well, so i hope i could convey this 🥹🫶

p.s. the gdoc i use to write up (unedited) translations before they’re published here… is at 96,396 words! wow!

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!