#life is and just always has been something that happens to other people

[dollediary]

webcam perv! pt. 1

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her��too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 

but to heeseung, it was everything.to him, everything about her was intoxicating to him, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

[lawofangie]

hi guys! i've been getting some dms and asks, and since there seems to be some confusion about what the law of assumption is, i wanted to make a post clarifying some things. so here are some things you need to know:

1. the law is not a mystical thing.

it is not magic. its not foreign. it is not a superpower. it is simply making assumptions. not praying, not wishing, not hoping, not affirming. making assumptions. manifestation is about accepting things as true without any proof, the proof comes later. once you've successfully completed this step.

2. you didn't create life, you created your reality.

there is a difference. i remember this one tumblr interaction where someone sent an ask, believing that since they're the creator of their reality, then they also created every tv show they watched. and no, you obviously did not. anything that you obviously didn't physically create in your life, you didn't create. the only thing you are responsible for in your life is how things operate in relation to you.

3. you don't get what you want, you get what you are.

there's a reason why you're told by neville to stop desiring, why you're told to state your desires as a present tense fact. its because no amount of wanting, no amount of desiring, is going to change anything. if our assumptions (what we believe is true without proof) have so much power over our lives, what do you think desiring implies? what does wanting say about you? if you had your dream job, would you be wanting your dream job, or would you already have it and no longer desire it?

it should be obvious that we as human beings are conscious enough to realize certain things. we have the freedom to change our own minds because we are autonomous human beings. therefore, you are completely capable of making the conscious decision to believe something without proof.

4. you are a human being. other people around you are human beings too.

i've noticed that a lot of people within this community seem to be out of touch with reality. i find this very concerning and it's why i no longer say things like "the 3d isn't real" or "you are god", because they can be blown out of proportion. while yes, you are the cause for everything in your life, this is still your life. the 3d can be as unreal or "fake" as it wants to be, but it's all you've ever known. it's all you will ever know. why? because regardless of any material you've ever consumed, we are human beings living a human experience. nothing can change that.

you still need to take care of yourself, you still need to live your life, you should still enjoy your life, you should still be kind to others and treat them with respect. don't neglect yourself and others around you. the 3d is real, it's just not as absolute as we're made to believe. that's all. the 3d is real, but its authority over you is not.

5. again, the law is not magic. it's a natural process.

once you assume something, it's not going to just magically fall into your lap. the law is meant to be a natural thing. while manifestation is instantaneous, there is still the bridge of events that unfold to lead you to what you decided has already happened. and while things can still happen in an infinite amount of ways, the "how", regardless of what i've just said, is still none of your concern. your job will always be to decide it's already done and stick to that.

also, please don't take my words out of context. i'm not saying that manifestation is a process or anything like that, this is simply the way our world works. for instance, if you wanted to manifest a free vacation, the tickets wouldn't magically appear in your hand right that second. you'd decide you were already going on/already on that vacation first. then in the next couple minutes/hours or the next day or that same week, a relative of yours calls or visits and mentions that they won a trip to your desired location, but they changed their mind, so they ask you if you want to go.

this is what i mean by a bridge of events unfolding. there is no process, just events that lead you to where you already assumed you are. your physical reality is a mirror that reflects whatever you tell yourself instantaneously. things will always unfold in a natural way.

that's all for now. i hope this helps. 🩶

[chisubi]

from the lovers’ grave — h. ran

content. fem!reader, one (1) suggestive scene near the end, something about grief, mourning, and love

word count. 10.7k

note. this was not meant to be long. originally, all i had planned was the scene with ran and rindō at the end talking and the confession scene for practice (i hate confessions) i am not sure what happened . . . also, this is unedited.

In the grand scheme of things, there were more good times than bad.

Of course, there’s no denying that during their teenage years of growing up, at some point, things have been deteriorating. Spiraling and spiraling and sprialing. They were just boys being boys, doing the only things they knew how to do, fighting and surviving; those moments were full of fun, exhilarating, a temporary bliss in this little corner of the world of theirs.

However, boys like them don’t live for long. They aren’t meant to. Just like how the saying goes: live fast, die young. Ran supposes the saying is true. Many of the people he’d known died before reaching adulthood, just like him — Kurokawa Izana. That’s just life, after all.

His funeral is a simple one. Nothing grand, and rather than how plain it is, it is more surprising how someone without a family – an orphan – is able to have a proper funeral. People like them never have one, forgotten by everyone and everything. And the one who stays forgotten by the world is Izana [to no one’s surprise], except for the few remaining members of the S-62 generation. Multiple police officers that keep a keen eye on all of them, and none of them are stupid enough to try and escape on a day like this — their bond with Izana is worth much more than that. It wasn’t something so shallow.

There are no decorations besides the white chrysanthemums and white lilies sitting in front of an old picture of him — a picture of when he first was admitted into juvenile detention all those years ago, he looked so young, his eyes were the same then as they are now. Dead. No sign of light. His cold body lies in a plain wooden casket. It’s an empty, stifling ceremony.

Shion is uncharacteristically quiet, and that alone would’ve been an insane sight if it were another day, but everyone understands his silence today. Nobody mentions it. Nobody says anything at all. It’s so silent, each breath drawn echoes, and something feels extremely off about the ceremony — something that has Ran glancing around the room every couple of minutes.

An obvious reason for this is how Kakuchō is not here; that kid would never miss this for anything, everyone knows this, and Ran can assume what happened. His injuries must be quite severe, and it’s rather a miracle that he had woken up, heck, even much earlier than the doctor’s expected. A sign of God’s mercy (and for a moment, in that cramped cell, Ran is a believer of faith). If Kakuchō is still awake, there’s no doubt he would be longfully staring out that white hospital room. Those cold, sad eyes of his watching the way the snow falls, burying the world.

And the other reason is how at the front of this cramped room, right next to the casket, sits a girl Ran has never seen before. It's alarming. Your head stays down as you only look at Izana, you haven’t bothered to look up since they have entered the room earlier. Ran can’t help, but wonder who you are. Who you are to Izana. An outsider to the S-62 generation that Izana had built from cold, scarred hands for delinquents like him. Ran wants to know so badly, but he is too tired, and now isn’t the time to focus on people he doesn’t know nor cares about.

Ran slips the singular white flower into Izana’s folded hands, all stiff, scarred, and freezing cold. A body of a dead man. He decides to place another: Kakuchō’s offering. Perhaps, that kid’s prayers would reach him, his heart has always been more pure than all of theirs combined, a softer soul trapped within this cruel world. Ran doesn't know why, but he whispers to Izana that he is sorry (he doesn’t know for what — maybe, everything), yet his eyes dwell on you.

When you turn and catch his curious eyes, he doesn’t look away; neither do you. Attempting to smile, it’s almost as if he’s looking straight into a mirror; a shiver runs down his spine.

He smiles back.

—

August tastes like cigarettes and bitter cherries. Just like it had last year in February, when blood, bones and ash had fallen and scattered around Yokohama that cold night, moments before the snow began to fall down. Gradients of whites and reds painting the town.

It’s a rather cool evening for a summer day when Ran finds himself visiting Yokohama after so long (even after his release, which had been quite some time ago, he hasn’t stepped foot here). There’s melancholy lingering in the air, much like how it always clings onto to long summer nights. Ran welcomes this, allowing his feet to lead him. Anywhere, everywhere, or nowhere at all. He just walks down the bustling streets, endlessly.

Something feels strange. . . Something is going to change this summer, something big; the unexpected always comes to people like him.

Downtown, there's a small bar that catches his eye. There's nothing too special about the shop — decorated with tacky neon flickering signs. Open, reflecting within his eyes. There's something inside of him that tells him he needs to enter, and so, he does just that.

And that feeling of his comes true within minutes. Ran sees you again. Coincidentally [or perhaps, fate, or by total chance].

The Izakaya isn’t really filled with people; either due to it still being early, since work hours are still going on or it just isn’t popular among the many identical shops along this street. And he should’ve invited Rindō to come with him; who enters and eats at an Izakaya alone? Ran has never gone out to eat or drink alone before, either way, it’s not like he’s a kid, so it doesn’t really matter that much, but he knows Rindō will be bitching to him about going out to eat alone. Well, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later.

Ran sits down at a table for two; ordering a small plate of yakitori and umeshu, something sweet and cold to drink. A waitress comes over and places his food down, his eyes widening at a familiar face, he speaks before he thinks, “Do you remember me?”

Your brows draw together, you look him up and down, then shake your head. “I. . . I am not too sure. I don’t believe so. Have we met before?”

He pauses. Disappointment swirls in his stomach, sinking. He tries not to think about why it makes him feel that way — like, disappointment is normal, but he knows he’s not someone unforgettable. “No. I must’ve been mistaken. Sorry ‘bout that.” He offers you a polite smile and that’s when he sees your eyes widen in recognition, the bar’s yellow lights flickering in yours; shining, shining, shining.

His finger glides against the rim of the glass cup, as he waits for you to speak — he knows you will say something. The ice cube clinks against the glass.

Clink. . . clink. . . clink.

“Oh—! Wait, um, you’re from the funeral. . .?” Uncertain as you carefully utter those words, he confirms this, and your eyes brighten. “Oh, hold on. Sorry, I can’t really talk right now, but my shift ends in twenty minutes,” you drift off, eyes darting toward the old big clock that hangs on the wall. You hopefully ask, “Wait for me?”

He nods. “Yeah, sure,” Ran casually says, ”take your time.” You thank him with a smile.

[Twenty minutes turn into fourty, and for some reason, he stays and waits for you. The yakitori was worth it, anyway. He’s grown to appreciate the taste of plums a little more today, too. It’s sweet.]

The both of you don’t say much tonight. Only indulging in introductions and small talk. The pier isn’t so far from the Izakaya, barely a ten minute walk away. When the two of you sit on the ledge, close yet not close enough to be touching, it’s all silent. Not a comforting one — one where the air feels thicker and there’s this itch where he feels as if he needs to say something to break this awkward tension. Curiously silent, because Ran has a lot of things to say — things he needs to know, but that can wait for another day.

“It’s a little breezy tonight,” you attempt to break the silence. He can tell there’s a lot on your mind, too, but you probably won’t say anything either. Not tonight, at least.

He offers, “Would you like my cardigan?”

You shake your head, declining. “No, but thank you. You might get cold without it.”

Relief runs over him when you decline because he is cold, he tends to get cold easily (which is something he and Rindō argue about because Rindō always, always, always turns the heat down in their apartment because he gets hot easily, even though Ran tells him not to touch it), and doesn’t like sharing his clothes or anything he owns with anyone. But Ran is a gentleman, or so he tries to be, girls feel special when he acts like this, and he likes making them think that. Well, sometimes he does. Sometimes, he doesn’t know.

“If you say so. That was my one and only offer so don’t complain after,” he halfheartedly teases (he still thinks you should’ve accepted it, because anyone would’ve if he was the one offering, but that’s your loss, really).

Maybe the way he was joking misses, because you simply reply, “I won’t.” And he hums. Silence falls over again.

“He was such an idiot,” your voice is anything but harsh when you say this. So soft, fond, a whisper of love. Too angelic, Ran is sure it will never reach him. He almost misses your words under the waves, too.

He doesn’t know who you are to Izana. A part of him understands, though. No matter what you two were or who you are, he knows you have loved Izana so dearly, you probably have for a long time. It’s quite obvious, the feeling of him that lingers onto you — he can feel it all.

His fists tightens around nothing, nail digging into his palm. How come he has never seen or heard of you before? Ran knows for a fact that Kakuchō knows you. Does Shion as well? He’s obsessed with Izana, obsessed to an unhealthy degree, so surely he knows or at least has caught a glimpse of you before. Maybe he really didn’t know Izana at all.

It’s kind of frustrating, he thinks.

Ran agrees with you. Though, he doesn’t verbally express it. Izana really was an idiot, a selfish one who was always stuck in his own head, and Ran would never get to tell him that. He’ll never get to tell him anything again. Bitterness, regret, and anger fill him for a split second, only a second, not a millisecond longer, because these emotions quickly fade back into nothing. Nothing because Ran can do nothing, but feel nothing.

“Do—Do you usually sit out here, doing nothing? Watching the world?” he sniffles. It’s summer, midsummer, heat is supposed to consume them, especially during these short nights, but the weather has been strange lately. He’s not even cold, it’s just when the breeze passes by, he gets bad shivers.

The flame of the lighter flickers, you’re lighting a cigarette — he didn’t peg you as a smoker (despite only knowing you for less than an hour at maximum), and he grimaces once he catches sight of a little pink box sliding back into your pocket. Pianissimo. Peach flavoured, of course, he almost snorts.

“Sometimes,” you reply as you breathe out the smoke. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

You pass the cigarette to him, he accepts, saying, “Nah, it’s fine.” Your smeared lip gloss stains the tip of the cigarette, his lips overlap with the marking, inhaling the bitter smoke to feel that familiar burn, it’s quite mild compared to what he prefers, something sweet lingers within, too.

“Okay, but that was my one and only offer.”

Ran chuckles at the familiar remark, and you let one out, too. “Okay. I get it.” He passes back the cigarette. “A cheeky one, aren’t you?” It comes off more flirtatious than intended, but it makes you smile at him, cheekily.

You’re captured by the moonlit water, cigarette ashes drifting down, down, down, eyes taken by the ashes, his eyes drift back to you, and that sentimental expression you wear.

(Losing someone isn’t anything new. It’s normal in a world like this. He wonders if you know this; you definitely do.)

—

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“I am sure,” you tell him, “it’s not even a party, it’s just a get together. Go have fun with your boys. Hasn’t it been a while since you’ve hung out like that?”

“Knowing them it will be a party instead,” Kakuchō replies with a short sigh. He has never been too fond of crowds and strangers. You wonder why he is so insistent on you joining, however you don’t ask. You tell him you are sure and want to stay home, before shoo-ing him out the door.

And despite your warnings [nagging, as Kakuchō likes to call it], when you go to see him the next day, you’re met with a hungover Kakuchō and two boys knocked out on his old, leather couch. One of them is barely hanging on, half of his body is dangling off, and you aren’t sure how he didn’t wake up from being uncomfortable. And the other, you are quick to recognise as Haitani Ran.

Kakuchō was indeed right. It’s always a party with the Haitani brothers, you’ve heard this from others before, too. You take a second glance at Kakuchō. Poor, poor, poor Kakuchō, who can barely open his eyes and stumbles his way towards you, more so to what you have in your hand, that glutton, you almost burst into giggles.

You greet him, asking him simple questions like: did you have fun last night? Too much fun, you guess. Are you hungry? And he’s replying to each one with nods and grunts and incoherent strings of ‘yeah’, ‘uh-huh’, and the most annoying one of all, ‘what’. Maybe, you both were too loud because the sound of shuffling behind catches yours and Kakuchō's attention. Both boys are awake — stuck in a similar state as Kakuchō — sets of tired purple eyes peering around the room as if they didn’t even realise they crashed at their younger friend’s place.

After a few seconds, Ran speaks up. “Oh. Good morning.” He doesn’t look too surprised seeing you. His hand ruffles through his wavy hair, smoothing out his bed head as he flashes you a grin. Ran has a pretty smile. He’s pretty first thing when he wakes up, and that alone makes you envious. It’s unfair.

“Hi, good morning,” your voice comes out a little quieter than you wish it had.

Ran is still smiling, as he repeats, “Good morning.” A slight pause as you smile, too. He cocks his head to the side, introducing the boy beside him. ���My baby brother, Rinrin,” he lazily introduces.

“Don’t call me that,” the boy [Rinrin] grumbles as he turns to you and gives a slight nod, “Rindō.” Rindō, not Rinrin, bends down to sweep up a shirt from the floor, slipping it back on, covering his tattoo, long black ink that paints half his chest. Your eyes linger for a moment too long, before moving onto Ran, whom for some strange reason, you know to have the other half of that tattoo on his body. They look so different yet alike.

Ran raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging on his corner of his lip once he catches your lingering gaze. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He mouths, ‘What?’, you turn your head away, feeling embarrassed. Your body heat rises to your neck, cheeks, and ears.

You can feel another set of eyes on you, not belonging to Ran, however you don’t look back up. You place the homemade bento on the counter, Kakuchō lets out a sigh, “Finally.” You roll your eyes at the boy.

“Sorry, I didn’t know Kakuchō would be having guests, so I only made enough for one person. . .”

You aren’t actually sorry. It’s just a little awkward. Kakuchō could’ve given you a heads up. It feels rude only bringing a meal enough for one when there’s a party of four (though, you didn’t plan on staying over after dropping off his food).

“Nah, it’s cool. We can share,” Ran says.

“No. Let’s order something else, too. I’m starving.” Rindō brings up. You all collectively agree with him because there’s no way the food you had brought is enough for the four of you.

Ran orders yakisoba and soda for all of you. Kakuchō loudly complains when he notices the two of them picking at the food you made for him, even with the yakisoba right there.

—

“So,” Ran begins.

You look up at him. “So?”

“Can I call you later?”

“For what?”

“To see you again,” he replies, “I have a feeling we’re going to keep running into each other.”

“That may be so.”

—

Haitani Ran was right. You do meet again and again and again. Sometimes he will get a call, lips pressing into a thin line, threatening to fall into a frown as he slips into another room for a few minutes before coming out to tell you that he has to go. He doesn’t say what, you don’t ask, but you know. It’s the same thing that has Kakuchō leaving his apartment in the middle of the night, too. You try not to think about it – acknowledge it – it has nothing to do with you.

He stops by from time to time, dropping by whenever he is in the neighbourhood, much like today. You’re no longer surprised when you open the door to be met with that charming smile of his, rather once you hear the familiar sound of knocking or ringing of the doorbell, you sort of expect it to be Ran.

“You play the guitar?” His line of gaze falls onto the acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the living room.

“Hm? Oh no, that belongs to Izana.” Used to. A pause, before you add, “There was a time when I used to beg him to teach me and he gave up after an hour.”

Ran snorts as his lips curl up. “That’s a good job for you then. He would’ve given up on the guys in less than five minutes so you probably did okay, right?”

You laugh at his words. It’s the truth, because Izana has always been an impatient (impulsive) guy. “Maybe. Kakuchō was able to learn how to play it, and I remember being a little jealous of him because Izana seemed happy to have someone to talk about music with.”

You were jealous, upset, embarrassed at your lack of ability — you thought, maybe you just aren’t talented? You eventually came to terms with it. But there were moments when you would watch Izana and Kakuchō play their guitars (—Izana set money aside and bought a used guitar just for Kakuchō, you assume Kakuchō leaves it hidden away, far away from everyone and everything), the room fills with music and you would be sitting on the couch listening, listening, and listening until you’re slowly drifting asleep to their melodies.

You take a hollow breath.

“Those two have known each other since they were kids. . . Ah, you, as well, right?” he asks and you nod your head in confirmation.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ran lifts his eyes to meet yours. Ever so purple, beautifully vibrant, like a gem, you’re afraid it could shatter. He smiles, softer, sadder. “I see. The three of you have a special bond then. Something others cannot replicate.”

Your heart races, then pangs at his words. Something special.

Yeah, it is special, you could never forget it. Even if you wanted to.

“Just like you and your brother. The charismatic brothers of Roppongi: the Haitani brothers,” you say, voice light with a small smirk on your lips. “I have heard some stories about you two.”

“Mhm, I bet you have. All good things, I assume?”

You tease, “Maybe, maybe not.”

He chuckles to himself. “So, good rumours,” he concludes with a satisfied look, “I am Haitani Ran, after all.” Definitely nothing good, you both know, or so, you assume Ran knows.

You agree, “That’s right, Mr. Haitani.”

He smirks at the name.

Ran doesn’t ask if it’s okay to touch the guitar, he just takes it, yet you can’t find yourself getting upset or complaining about it. You watch as he plops down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him, indicating you to come over, in which you do. “Ran, do you know how to play?”

He looks over at you and winks, “Oh, honey, that’s what you are about to find out. Keep your eyes on me.”

You roll your eyes.

It’s not even two minutes later, when you do find out, just like Ran had said. You learn he doesn’t know how to play at all. Ran plays the same tune over and over again, or he attempts to, it sounds nothing like the pretty way Izana plays. It’s clunky, off-tune, yet something about it feels tender. So, so gentle; your heart trembles along with the tune. Ran doesn’t seem to care about his lack of skills; lavender eyes softly gazed on the way his slender fingers move against the strings — a faint smile to his lips, rosy and glossy from your cherry lip balm you saw him put on earlier, as he plays Izana’s beloved acoustic guitar.

You remember Izana at this moment. The way he played all his favourite songs — how Bohemian Rhapsody and Under Pressure was played on repeat in his little apartment. How, on this very couch that you and Ran are sitting on, he used to get frustrated at how you couldn’t memorise or understand what he was teaching you (and in your defense, he sucks at teaching, definitely one of the only things he has ever sucked at), and you would cry at his frustration. Izana eventually gave up and instead learned to play your favourite song for you.

You wanted to learn it yourself, but you were so happy at the same time. It felt special. You felt special.

You remember, you remember, you close your eyes, and you remember it all. It dances to the memories every day, a little record stuck on repeat. It’s all you have left of him. What if one day your heart suddenly doesn’t remember?

“Falling asleep to my playing?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, all you see is Ran in front of you.

You shake your head and smile at the sight, Ran catches it and flashes a pretty smile back, laughing beneath his breath as he attempts to show off by playing a series of random chords quickly. Giggling at his antics, you attempt to sing along; humming a random tune as the two of you try to match each other, clearly missing the beat. Soft laughter, light teasing, Ran playing the guitar and you singing along fills the room in your apartment. Your hearts dance along, ever so intimately. You feel light, so light, and you haven’t felt this way in a long time.

Maybe you could get used to this (perhaps, you already are).

“I don’t know anything about guitars or any instrument,” he admits, “maybe besides the recorder.” He looks disheartened at the fact as he stops playing and his fingernail taps against the wood, it echoes back.

“It’s okay, I am no good at it either. I also only know how to play the recorder,” only because it is mandatory to learn in primary school. “I am probably better than you at it, though.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, young miss?”

“Maybe.”

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” he says. “Someday, of course.”

You nod. “Someday.”

—

Ran sleeps with you for the first time tonight. After dinner, he was too lazy, and your couch was too comfortable, so he didn’t want to leave, and you didn’t really seem to think of anything when you offered for him to stay the night. He didn’t think much of it when he agreed. It’s so innocent, yet more intimate than everything he has ever known. He feels. . . strange.

Your mattress is quite small, however Ran prefers it this way for obvious reasons. The dip in the mattress that allows you to get closer, he can feel your body heat so vividly, if he closed his eyes he could probably imagine it, except he doesn’t. He just stares at your bare face, who stares back at him.

“Your hair looks so pretty like this, Ran. I like it.” Your compliment makes him smile, it’s not often when someone witnesses his hair down, wavy and what he considers to be a mess. Your finger runs over the loose waves, twirling the end with your fingertip. He thinks you look pretty, too, in your pajamas, and bare faced.

You ask, “Can I braid your hair when we wake up tomorrow?”

“I like my hair a certain way.” He replied without much thought. He almost doesn’t notice that he didn’t necessarily reject the request.

You pout your lips, and give Ran your best puppy eyes — little gems are shooting out of your eyes towards him, but he is not one to fall for that. Do you think he’d be the type to fall for a cheap trick? If he were, he would’ve been screwed ages ago. You picked the wrong person for that. “Is that a no?”

He softly hums, debating to himself. “I am just—” he tries to think of the right word. He just hates when others touch his hair, his clothes, his jewelry, he spends so much time perfecting his appearance — he hates when others ruin it. “I rarely let Rindō touch my hair.” He decides to say this, because it’s something people can come to understand.

“I learn quickly. . .”

He sighs. Not one out of annoyance, more so at how he is so quick to give into your wishes. “Alright, fine. I will teach you how I like it done tomorrow.” You’re lucky that you’re cute, he almost adds.

He bites his tongue.

But he doesn’t know why. He says those types of things all the time. It’s a strange night. He’s been doing things he doesn’t do or say.

You lift your hand to his face, your pinky sticks out, “Promise?”

A pinky promise. Ran almost snorts — he would’ve if he weren’t so tired, if you didn’t look so cute and serious, and he would have laughed if it were someone else. Ran hasn’t pinky promised since he was a kid, barely eleven, promising something mundane to Rindō (the world, Roppongi, a new house, a new life, he remembers, he always will).

He softly sighs, sending you a sleepy smile as he locks your pinky with his. His thumb presses against yours, sealing the promise with a kiss. His eyes flicker down to your soft lips, you are grinning so happily over a mere pinky promise, what a simple thing bringing you happiness. “I promise.”

For a moment, he thinks he could give you something worth more than this little promise — pretty, shiny things that could make you smile even more. But he knows you aren’t someone like that. And that’s fine to him.

If braiding his hair makes you happy, for some weird reason, then he’s okay with it, too.

—

Ran awakens in the middle of the night, the room is coated in darkness, the moonlight shines through the crack of the curtain and that is how he knows it is still night time. He is not used to not sleeping in his own bed, he immediately notices your lack of presence, fingers tracing the empty surface, the side you had slept on is barely warm; you were still here not too long ago.

He slowly gets up, quietly walking down the hall to find you sitting curled up on the couch, on the side that is closest to the wall where Izana’s guitar rests. Unaware of him, his presence, and everything else in the world.

He lingers everywhere in your apartment, your home, your mind. It leaves Ran questioning: when you make a person your home, where do you go when they’re gone? Where do you go? Tell him.

He leans against the wall, asking, “You can’t sleep?”

Your body jolts. Your head snaps up, as you glance in his direction, and you shake your head, beginning to relax. “Oh, Ran. . . No, I was just getting some water.”

He hums, going along with your poorly webbed lie, your heart is exposed bare on your sleeve, so cold, lonely, he glances from the empty coffee table to the acoustic guitar to your unshed tears. You are seriously a terrible liar. That’s a good thing for him. “Do you mind the company?” He doesn’t want to intrude somewhere he doesn’t belong.

You shake your head once again, “No. Not at all.” You pat the spot next to you, and Ran moves from the wall to the spot next to you. You’re watching him silently, sinking back into the cushions.

“Are you thinking about him?”

You tilt your head towards him, sending a weak smile, unable to find the words for an answer that the both of you already knew.

“It’s okay. Sometimes, I still think about him, too.” He assures.

You ask, “You do?” You sound rather surprised, and he is also surprised by his own honesty.

“Yeah. He was. . .” Words die easily on his tongue as he struggles to find the right words to say. There’s not much he can say, despite all of the memories and feelings he once had. What can he even say about Izana? He can’t think of anything nice or normal that one would say about an acquaintance (friend, comrade, boss). “He was an interesting guy. I kinda admired him.”

He was an interesting guy, Ran had thought so their first meeting, years ago back in juvie. He was the only person that left a deep impression on him. Izana was many things. Anything, but a good man. He used to be a good boy (probably), once so long ago. Ran really did admire him, he wouldn’t have followed just anyone. He admired him to the point where he spent his entire youth following the boy.

“I did, too.” Barely heard even in this room containing only the two of you, it sounds a little bitter. Just a tad.

“Yeah, I’m sure he knows,” he says, leaning his head down to rest on top of yours. You breathe quietly next to him, all of the little noises can be heard in this silence. Your legs stretch out, dangling beside his.

It’s a long time before either of you speak. And then, you look up at him. There’s something glimmering in your eyes.

You tell him a story and then two more of your childhood. You laugh and tear up through them. He laughs, stays silent, and smiles as he tentatively listens to your every word. It’s his turn, you don’t ask him, but it’s only fair if he shares something personal with you; something he and only Rindō know. He wants you to know. He wants to tell you sides of him that he’s outgrown and sides that nobody knows. He tells you about the dog Rindō wants to adopt one day, you say you want to see it, but Ran tells you about how he doesn’t really want to have pets in his apartment (though, it’s sometimes hard to say no to Rindō). You tell him about the stray cat you used to feed a few months ago, and how you haven’t seen her in a few weeks. She’s probably fine, Ran tries to assure you, there’s a chance somebody had picked her up and adopted her. You hope so.

The two of you fall asleep on your couch, one far too small for him, curled up, and entangled together. He sleeps so soundly, the cotton of his shirt soaking up your silent tears.

[Ran believes — no, he knows that he visited you in a dream last night. He must’ve. You look so at peace.

The sun hits, orange light shining through the gaps of the curtains, and you look so at peace as you sleep, leg wrapped around his waist as you lay against his chest. His fingers run through your hair, carefully, not wanting to wake you. His index finger ghosts over your cheek and Ran freezes when you shift in your sleep, smiling when he realises you aren’t going to wake.

You must be a heavy sleeper. Or maybe, you’re having a sweet dream and aren’t ready to wake yet.

He admires you for minutes that seem to last forever. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s doomed, and decides he doesn’t want to think about it or you anymore, before drifting back to sleep.]

—

When morning hits (or rather afternoon), Ran stops to look at you before leaving. His hand lingers on the doorknob. “You’ll be okay?”

You nod. “. . . Should be,” you reply, smiling. “See you later, Ran, and thank you.”

His eyes are gazing down at you, his expression seemingly confused — conflicted, before his eyes soften, turning back into pretty little gems. His smile is so pretty. “I’ll call you,” he says.

It’s a promise.

—

It’s Wednesday, your afternoon lecture was cancelled due to the professor’s sudden family emergency, so you invited Kakuchō to hang out around Shibuya. Luckily, he didn’t have any of those meetings to attend. “Are you dating Haitani Ran?”

Your heart almost stops at hearing this.

“What—no, of course, not,” you reply — one far too quick, your voice raises and you hear Kakuchō scoff under his breath. You almost stop your tracks, instead you turn your head in his direction, narrowing your eyes, clearing your throat before asking, “Why are you asking me that?”

He shrugs, opting on not replying to your question, and you frown, pressing your lips into a thin line. When you lightly hit his shoulder, he sighs, giving into you. “You always hang out these days.”

What a ridiculous reason. “Is that so weird? You and I see each other almost daily,” you reason.

Another scoff escapes his lips as if you had just said the most insane thing in the world. He tells you, “I’ve seen him leave your apartment in the morning. More than once.”

“We didn’t sleep together,” you defensively reply. A growing sense of irritation quickly builds inside of you. “It’s nothing like that. I swear.”

“So, it’s nothing.”

“Well, you know. . .” You trail off, looking at the people fleeing in and out of the cafés and clothing shops. You don’t deny it. You don’t know if you should, yet it’s not really anything, maybe something. He’s your friend. Just like Kakuchō. Just like Izana.

He sighs before saying, “You look at him like how you did with Izana.”

You freeze.

Kakuchō steps stop the moment yours do.

You look at him like how you did with Izana. You grow cold from those words alone, your heart tightens by an old memory of Izana flashing by. Those words play on repeat with the memories.

Just like Izana.

You feel faint.

There’s a tap on your shoulder, you notice the guilt on his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you upset. I won’t ask, you don’t gotta say anything. I get it.”

“No, don’t be sorry, I am not upset.” You aren’t upset, but you don’t know how you are feeling. You know you aren’t upset by his words, but your heart stings. You want to cry, but you don’t understand why. [You do, and this makes you feel like sobbing.]

“Okay, well, can I ask why Ran? Rindō is the cooler brother,” he says.

Why Ran. You don’t know this yourself. You just know you like being with Ran. His presence is comforting, he makes you feel less alone in moments you feel alone. You just like being with Ran. You just want to be around that person. It’s as simple as that.

You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger into his forearm, lightly pressing your nail into his muscle. “You only say that because he works out with you.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. That’s the manliest thing someone can do. And he drinks more than any guy I know, it’s kind of insane, and he will still show up to the meeting the next day.”

You grimace. You could never pull yourself out of bed if you were that hungover — and, well, you’re sure that Rindō is dragged and forced to go to these ‘meetings’. Probably. There’s no way it is solely dedication.

“Right. Don’t be drinking with him, got it?” You don’t need Kakuchō developing even more bad habits. Sometimes you can’t help, but nag, even if it doesn't really reach him (if you were Izana, it’d be a whole different case), always going in and out the other ear. “Kaku, are you doing okay these days?”

“I’m fine, but also, a little hungry.”

“Kakuchō.” You lower your voice in an attempt to sound more serious — threatening, maybe. Obviously, it doesn’t work because Kakuchō doesn’t reply or react in any way. “Come on now. Talk to me, I know it’s something.”

He sighs, his eyes don’t meet any part of you. He turns away, the long, faded scar running across his face becomes hidden. “It’s always like this. In the end, I am always the only one who ends up surviving.” You’d prefer bitterness, anger, or sadness – anything – over the empty feeling in his words. Your heart aches, you don’t want Kakuchō to leave you, too.

You don’t even want to imagine such a thing.

You want to hold him.

Your hand reaches out to grab him, so firm and all of his little scars and calluses are felt and seen. Kakuchō looks down at you the moment you touch him. He doesn’t pull away. “I am sorry to say this, I know you won’t want to hear it now, but I am grateful for that. I’d be sad if you weren’t here with me. You are my family, Kaku. Don’t forget that. So, please don’t say something so sad.”

And he’s quick to look away again, too.

He says, “. . . I’d be lonely without you, too.”

Your hand tightens around his. His hand is warm, like it always is, his body always runs hot, too hot, but he is still alive. You’re alive. “You could at least look at me when you say that.”

He grumbles something incomprehensible, you tilt in your head in confusion, “Hm? What was that?”

“I said, ‘what do you want to eat?’”

“Aren’t you being too shy? I guess you’re at that age now,” you continue to tease him, watching as the tip of his ears turn red. Kakuchō has never been good at voicing his own feelings, he speaks through his actions alone — through iron fists and undying loyalty — just like most of the men you have ever known. You grin at the reaction. “Hmm, well, how about we have okonomiyaki tonight? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The three of you used to eat that quite often back then, Kakuchō would be the one who would always make it for you and Izana. You haven’t had it since then. You’re craving it like crazy now.

“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s find a place less crowded, though.”

He really is still the same. Just older now, maybe maturing and experiencing life in all the wrong ways. But he is still your Kakuchō.

You wonder if he thinks the same of you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

And similar to Kakuchō, you’ve never been so fond of crowds, either. Arms linked, you walk to an old restaurant owned by a cute elderly couple. You tell him you love him (because you do, since back then and now and in the future), he almost pushes you away right then and there, you burst out in laughter.

Kakuchō sits in front of you, in the past he used to sit beside you, you assume maybe it’s because it’s easier to talk this way. A guess because you aren’t so sure. He accidentally makes an extra okonomiyaki the first round, a habit he cannot erase, you both know why, you don’t say anything. You take the extra okonomiyaki and eat it for him.

—

Ran believes that some things are meant to happen for a reason.

You and him.

Him and you.

He throws a party for his brother’s birthday as he does every single year. He only invites their friends who immediately invite other people they know as it always goes and the apartment is filled to a brim. Just like every year.

You arrive a little later than most people, due to work and having to get ready, and Ran immediately removes himself from a group of people surrounding him (a chorus of boo’s are thrown at him), and rushes over to you.

“Hey. You took a while.”

You’re all smiles around him already. “I had to shower and get ready first.”

“You still look pretty in your work uniform.”

You look up at him, pointedly. “And smell like alcohol and chicken and fish?”

Ran grins, “Not much different from here, yeah? I love eating chicken.”

You playfully shove him and his grin widens as he pulls you into the drunk dancing crowd.

When he makes eye contact with Rindō, who is DJing (like always), his brother is clever enough to change the music to keep the two of you close. Bodies are bumping into him and you, you’re really close and your hands are in the air, in your hair, and on him. People are too close, too loud, too intoxicating. He has to lean down every time you attempt to say something to him — a lot of it is just you singing — and your lips brush against the shell of his ear every time.

Every. Single. Time. Electricity jolts through him.

Hair is sticking to your forehead, face red and glowing from dancing, sweat, and the mixture of body heat; you’re stunning and all Ran can think of is how badly he wants to kiss you when you bite your lower lip when you meet his gaze once again.

He pulls you closer, and it happens within a second. You kiss him first. Lips briefly pressing against his, you’re quick to pull back before he can reciprocate, and you flash him a smile more blinding than these flickering neon lights. He pulls you back in for a proper kiss this time.

Admittedly, this is not your first kiss together. He had kissed you once before – barely a peck – one night when he had picked you up from work and drove you home. It can barely be called a kiss, but Ran would be lying if he said it didn’t cause a shock that ran through his entire body. Later that night, alone in his room, his thumb brushed over his lips and they still tingled with the feeling of you.

This kiss, unlike the previous brief and fleeting exchange, he can taste all of you. Openmouthed, desperate, and a little shameless, too (but he doubts anyone is actually paying attention). Your hands find their way to his hair — much like they always seem to do — and Ran sighs when your fingers run through, gently scratching the nape of his neck. You look up at him with a gleam in your eyes, and he swears he wants to undress you right then and there.

Except, he wouldn’t do that. Plus, a loud whistle and a familiar voice jerks him back to the present (reality). It takes so much in him to hold himself back, he has to physically pull himself away from you for a second. He turns and glares at the interruption — Shion. Obviously. That fucker.

“What?” he asks, slightly annoyed and amused at the boy’s fucked appearance.

Shion grin widens, face glowing with sweat, red eyes, high and drunk on whatever someone had snuck in. Someone sure is having a good time. “Just—‘m just enjoying the show,” he slurs as his eyes make their way behind him, to you.

Ran steps forward and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Shion wobbles with a faint touch. “Go sit down, Madarame. You’re gonna fall over.”

Shion ignores him, brushes past him, and asks you to dance. Ran groans, calling out his name, but Shion blocks out his voice and smiles at you.

So, sure, he and the boys have this thing of cockblocking each other for shits and giggles, but now was definitely not the time for that. He needs to learn how to read the room. Damn idiot. (This is probably Shion’s payback from the last party, and all the times before that, but Ran swears it’s funny when he does it.)

You look from Shion to him and Ran shrugs, as if a shrug is enough to let you know that it’s just Shion, so it’s fine if you wanna dance with him, or not. After a second, you accept his dance with a curt, “Sure.” And Shion smiles, wide with all teeth.

“Behave yourself,” he warns Shion before turning to you. “I am gonna get some water. I’ll leave you to it for a bit.”

Ran walks over to join Rindō at his DJ booth.

Rindō looks at him with a raised brow as he makes his way behind the booth. “You lost your girl to Shion,” Rindō loudly snorts.

“Just letting him be around a girl out of his league for once,” Ran jokingly replies, and they both laugh. “Change the song for me.”

The song switches to something more upbeat; everyone is spinning and jumping, you and Shion, too. He can barely hear his own thoughts through the loud vibrations of the bass. He and Rindō talk about nothing, and Ran lets Shion dance with you for two whole songs. Shion is an idiotic lunatic, especially when he’s drunk, but he’s not stupid enough to do something he knows he shouldn’t. His hands don’t leave your hands, rather, Ran thinks you’re making sure Shion doesn’t let go of your hands, so he doesn’t fall over. Ran thinks you might be too nice. He’s having a good time and so are you, so that’s all that matters. He likes watching you dance, even if it’s not with him.

At some point, he runs to the kitchen to get a cup of water, and when he returns to you, Shion is nowhere in sight. That boy never stays in one place for long.

“Sorry, Shion is an idiot,” he tells you as he offers you the cup in his hand, basically forcing it into your hand to drink.

You chug back the water, no doubt exhausted and dehydrated from all the dancing and sweaty bodies around you. “He’s a funny guy. I had fun.”

Ran gives you a skeptical look. “Guess so, but feel free to ignore him next time.”

You grin, “Really, Ran, he was nice!”

“I sure hope so.” He leans down as whispers against your ear, “My room?”

You nod.

And finally, you’re on top of him. Ran is laying on his back, propped up by his elbows as he watches you take off your top, far too slowly, because you like to tease, and Ran is an impatient man deep down. But in this moment, he lets you do your own thing, and watches, watches, admires your every subtle movement. The real thing is much better than his daydreams. Yes, in the moment, he almost thanked Buddha.

You lean down to kiss him. Rather soft and innocent compared to the way you shift on top of him, and the way your hand runs down between the two of you. He’s rather shameless, and doesn’t bother hiding the way you make him feel. There’s nothing greater than pleasure.

Your movements come to an abrupt stop, and Ran suddenly becomes more aware. For a moment, he thinks you must be teasing him once more — Ran doesn’t beg.

He asks, “You okay?”

You stay quiet, he can’t see your eyes, something is wrong.

“Hey, is there something wrong?” His hand is immediately searching for yours, unknowingly. You pull your hand away before he can reach it. You pull your hands together.

Your voice comes out too quiet. It shakes at the end.

“. . . I’m scared,” you admit.

Ran pauses, his expression drops and he’s quick to sit straight up, reaching over to grab your hand, pulling it into his. His thumb brushes against the back.

He pulls you in his arms, your head lays against his chest as he whispers, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.” He doesn’t need this. “It’s alright, don’t force yourself.”

“No, that’s not what I—” you’re cut off by a whine; your own cry.

He’s scared to death the moment you begin to sob. Full on sobbing, you’re choking, and he can’t calm you down. He’s frantically trying to speak to you, but his words are not reaching you.

He wants to know what’s wrong. He needs to know what he can do to help you. There’s nothing he can do, except hold you.

“I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He frowns. Wrong. Your words alarm him. “There’s nothing wrong. It’s not wrong. Trust me.” He tells you, more firm than his usual tone with you. “You’re okay, baby.”

You shake your head. “It’s not.”

“It is.” He grabs the blanket beneath the two of you and wraps it around your naked figure.

You try to say you’re sorry — words don’t come out, but Ran knows you’re trying to apologise for something that only exists in your mind. There’s nothing wrong at all and he needs you to understand this.

“We’re okay, trust me. We’re more than okay.” He reassures as he holds you a little tighter when he feels your shaky form against him. “Don’t force yourself to do anything, yeah?” His voice drops to a comforting whisper, “Just breathe for me. You can do that.”

You cry into his chest for an hour. He says nothing, but strokes your hair and quietly calls your name from time to time.

After a long time, when your sniffles begin to slow and the party outside the door begins to die down, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say, and leave it at that.

(You think Ran doesn’t understand, and you feel bad because you don’t know how to tell him how his sweetness and understanding and patience with you causes you to cry even more. He’s so sweet, it aches, and aches, and aches, but his arms around you bring comfort and security, and then, so do his lips.)

—

Leaves decay, autumn passes, and it’s almost Christmas. Snow fell greatly last night, piles and piles of snow pack up, and Rindō is dragged outside to play. Play as if he is some seven-year-old kid once again.

The three of you are outside their apartment complex, you’re rolling snow to make a snowman next to one that has already been made — probably by the family that lives on the first floor. They have two little kids — one boy and one girl. Rindō remembers bumping into them in a drunken state, and the mother looked at him in disappointment and disgust as she blocked him from her children (obviously, he wasn’t going to do anything, but he can’t exactly blame the woman, either), Rindō scoffed at her and stumbled his way upstairs.

He and Ran aren’t doing anything, just standing on the sidelines, lighting a cigarette, and watching you. When Ran passes him the cigarette, Rindō is quick to take notice of the difference in smell and taste. Since when did he start smoking another brand? Especially something like this. Still, he smokes it with him without complaint.

“So,” Rindō starts off, gaining his brother’s attention. “How are you?”

Ran’s face twists, he stares at his little brother strangely, as if he had grown another head. “Huh?”

Sure, it is a weird question, because no matter how close they seem (are), they don’t talk about feelings or anything like that, even if they are together almost 24/7. But Rindō just wants to know this time, he’s so curious, because something has changed about his brother. It’s noticeable in everything he does.

His eyes flicker from him to you. “You and her. The two of you are together now, or what’s going on?” Rindō is curious. He knows there’s something more going on, he’s no fool, and the way your eyes always seem to find each other basically screams it to his face. “Hasn’t it been a while?”

Ran shrugs, poker face, as always.

Rindō just lets out an ‘Ah’, and that’s that. There’s never much to say between them because they’ll just accept anything about each other without an explanation.

However, Ran continues speaking about it, much to his surprise. “I am actually fine with it, y’know.”

“Fine with what?” he asks.

“How there will always be a little part of her who loves Izana.” Ran says this so casually, Rindō’s mouth opens slightly, yet there’s nothing he can think to say so he shuts it and stares on ahead. “Even if he were still here. . . yeah, I’d be okay with it, too.”

Ran has always been complex in ways that nobody can understand, and when they finally think they do, he shows them that they never knew him at all. When he wants something, he’s quick to dive in and take it. He takes, takes, and takes. He’s quite cruel at times, it’s how he learned to survive.

(And Rindō learned that from him, too.)

If Izana were here, somewhere in another life, he knows you would still choose Ran — that’s probably what his brother is thinking. That cocky, confident smile tells all. And Ran is probably right about it, he always is, and he’s annoying about that fact, too.

Ran’s eyes have always been a shade darker than his. Yet, in this light, they seem to shine brighter than his.

“Ran!”

The both of them look up. You’re running over, there’s snow in your hair, frosting over. Your smile is bright, teeth showing, the snow around is sparkling. Ran’s smile is suddenly all soft.

“What?” Even his voice is all smiles, and internally, Rindō gags.

“Come here,” your hand pulls him along. Ran follows you like a dog.

And suddenly, it’s only the two of you in the world; moving slowly, kicking snow onto each other, pushing, running, hands never letting go. It’s pure, gentle, something so rare and hard to find, Rindō's heart shakes at the sight of Ran and you.

The idea of Ran and you.

He’s a little jealous, but he will never admit to something like that.

He thinks about taking a picture of Ran to show him how idiotic he looks, but in the end, he decides not to. Ran won’t see what he looks like in this light, unless, as cheesy as it sounds, through the reflection of your eyes.

—

January rolls around, the very first day of the year, and Yokohama’s seaside never seems to change. Dawn is blue, forever blue, you feel as if your soul is about to cry.

Ran had shown up at your apartment right before the hand of the clock struck midnight to no one’s surprise. Well, maybe, you were a little surprised. His brother was throwing a New Year’s party (one you had declined the invitation to), yet here Ran is with you. You ask why, to which he replies with, “I just wanted to see you.” And that is enough for you to let him inside.

The two of you attempt to stay up all night — that attempt is quick to fail, because you both become entangled in your bed, falling into slumber. And once your alarm sets off at five in the morning, you’re dragging Ran out of your bed, pulling his clothes off from your bedroom floor, and pushing him out the door. His hand in yours. You take him to your spot by the pier, almost jogging. It’s nearly six.

“Sleepyhead,” you eventually call out, glancing at the sleepy boy beside you. He could sleep anywhere, you think. It’s a fact known to everyone around him. “You are dozing off. You’ll miss the sunrise.”

After a few beats, your words register through his head. He lazily nods, almost as if he’s nodding off again. “If you don’t say anything, I think I really will pass out,” he mumbles back, voice groggy and deeper than usual from his sleepiness.

You ask, “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm. . .”

You ponder for a moment, before asking, “Do you think people ever truly move on from their first love?”

This is enough to wake Ran up. The weight on your head is lifted, he shifts. “That’s heavy,” he breathes out.

“You said anything.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he gives you an answer.

“It depends on the person.” He turns his body to turn and look at you. “Why do you ask? Scared to move on or do you think you’ll never be able to?”

You don’t lift your gaze, settling on the waves below. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You can feel his eyes on you and the smirk that is tugging on his lips, even though you know he is being serious with you. He wants to know. He needs to hear your answer. “I don’t know. . . Do you ever think about your first love?”

“Nah, I don’t think about things like that, sweetheart.”

“Liar. You could at least pretend and go along with me.” He smiles when you say this. You softly sigh, going along with his silence. “But fine. If you did think about those things, do you think you would eventually forget about them?”

Ran’s eyes flicker, violet hues staring deep into you, as he huffs a silent laugh — one that feels a little sad compared to his usual ones. “I think I would carry a part of them with me no matter how much time has passed.”

His words make you softly smile. And they feel a little sad, too. “I see. . . You are quite the romanticist,” you tease.

For some reason, you feel as if your teasing never seems to work against him, he remains as composed as he always is. He whispers, “Aren’t we all?”

It’s strange how easily Ran’s words bring comfort to you. In ways where you feel heard and seen even in darkness. Ran is always like that. There’s a part of you that will never forget Izana, not now or in another life. He will always be someone you love and cherish. Ran understands this — he understands you, never judging. You understand him, too, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, Ran, can I ask you something?”

“You sure have a lot of questions today,” he says with both amusement and curiosity swimming in his tone. “Shoot. What else is running through that mind of yours?”

You open your mouth, then pause.

“Hm? What’s with the sudden hesitation? Is it something embarrassing?” he teasingly asks, nudging his shoulder against yours, prompting you to speak your mind. “You can tell me. Promise, I won’t laugh.”

You know he wouldn’t laugh at you — always with you. Never at you. You just can’t find the right words to say to him. [Or maybe the courage.]

“You know I don’t judge you.”

“You judge everyone, Ran.”

His smile drops, and his expression turns more serious than you would like. “Surely you know that you’re not everyone.” He asks, “You understand, don’t you?”

You quietly reply, “I know.”

“Then is it something bad?” His voice goes quiet, too.

“No, it’s just,” you deeply inhale, turning your head back to the sea, averting your gaze from those eyes that look at you so softly [tenderly, with his full adoration], it causes your heart to tighten every time. You fidget with the ends of your hair, exposing your nerves. Another short pause and then you breathe. “I think. . . I think I like you, Ran. Like, a lot, and it terrifies me. Maybe you don’t believe me—I would find it hard to believe, too, because of—”

“I believe you,” his reply comes immediately. Voice so clear among the waves and seagulls calling above. “I can tell. You make it quite obvious sometimes, it’s hard for me to ignore, y’know?”

You blink. “Oh. Um, is it really?” you meekly reply.

Ran hums and heat rises up to your ears in embarrassment. You don’t think you’re somebody who is that obvious. Your face no longer feels the coldness of winter brushing by, internally groaning. You guess it was obvious. The two of you kiss a lot, you’ve gone further than that on a few occasions, and he stays over at your apartment more often than not. It is obvious. But liking and loving someone are two completely different things. (Love. . .)

“I feel the same. But how I feel . . . it is probably too soon to say how I feel for you, so I will wait until you are sure you want this.” His hand brushes against yours — cold from the cement and winter air, pinky dragging across the back of your hand. “Not too long, though. My patience isn’t so gentlemanly.”

Your heart flutters, embarrassment shifting to shyness. I feel the same for you, too. You try to not burst out smiling, lightly biting down onto your lip. Your cheeks betray you. You can feel the heat rising against the wind.

“Oh? Is that what people call you now? I don’t recall you being that much of a gentleman.”

Ran scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Really now?” Beginning to mutter to himself about how he treats you so well, that he’s been born a gentleman — it’s engraved into the very depths of his soul. And to some degree, those words are true. Ran has been nothing but patient with you. Someone who is always there when you need it.

I will wait until you are sure you want this. You do want this, you want to be with him — with the person beside you now. You want us. “Me too,” you say as you gather more courage, leaning towards him a little, your hand rests on his shoulder as you stare straight into those pretty lavender eyes. “I am falling in love with you,” you say to him, more sure than before.

You don’t waver.

A second passes, a wave crashes.

“Mm, I missed what you said. Say it again for me, sweetheart,” he says with that signature smile to his soft, pink lips, “for me, please?”

His plea makes you roll your eyes. Ran loves attention — both good and bad. He loves pretty things and pretty words, even more when they hold something so precious and meaningful in them. I love you. I love you. I love you. I like you so, so much. I want to be with you, Ran. Ran, Ran, Ran — sweet words that have been whispered to him many times before in the past (and many more times in the future, including now).

You lean over, cherry lips brushing against his ear, as light as a feather. You whisper a confession. A heartfelt confession. The wind rushes by, his hair tickles your flushed cheek, and a sweet confession only for the two of you to know, drowned out by everything else in the world.

It’s just you and Ran.

Snow gently falls, your hand found itself in Ran’s, his fingers intertwined between yours. He doesn’t let go. You don’t let go. Even when the sun begins to rise over the blue horizon, not when you’re walking back to your apartment, not when Kakuchō and Rindō stop by later for dinner and Ran is doing nothing, but admiring you as you cook. Neither of you let go for a long, long time.

It’s just Ran and you.

[mortallyfuzzytyrant]

Expanding on being Olrox's best friend.

My genuine belief is this friendship would form on mutual respect. It's clear Olrox is someone who doesn't take his true loyalties lightly. And he is beyond tired of people who are power hungry or buy into group mentalities.

I believe you would have met Olrox during a time of hardship for yourself. You being a humble individual who merely wanted to exist. Though, of course, the world wouldn't make such a thing so simple.

Olrox has basically spent his entire life forming alliances to get by. He found you trapped as an abstract entity being used by vampires. He found it distasteful but didn't do a thing at first.

Discovering you had a consciousness was a point of intrigue for him. You could think and feel. Hearing you speak wasn't surprising but amused him nonetheless.

You two held conversations now and again. It became obvious to you that Olrox merely sought out for himself and couldn't care less about the ambitions of the vampires that held you. You decided quite quickly you liked him.

He quipped about your abusers and boasted about his lover. Admittedly, it rubbed you the wrong way he sat by as you were made into a toy. But this man was the closest thing to what it was like to be treated like a person, so you clung to your brief interactions.

Plus, he was funny. At least you were getting something out of this. Olrox was keeping you sane.

You within an inch of your mental capacity each day. You were in pain and long past tolerant of others.

You were aware of what happened to Olrox's lover. You have no idea why he told you. He did it so matter of factly.

The way he always smirked when talking to you was replaced with a bitter scowl. His demeanor was a far cry from how playful and snarky he was before.

Instinctively, you offered your wish for his peace with the matter. You even complimented his lover. You saw him briefly. You were....more perceptive than average, let's put it that way.

Olrox's expression was unreadable but it was clear he absorbed your words.

Olrox had been put in charge of commanding you at some point. You spent more time together. Your being was still confined but your consciousness good stretch for eons.

You didn't mind Olrox commanding you. He was far kinder and just did what was necessary. Perhaps he wasn't exactly overly familiar. But he treated you as something akin to a lieutenant. Rather than a dog.

You formed a habit of calling him "master".

He never said anything. But somehow you could tell it bothered him. You thought it was because he wasn't fond enough of you to even consider you a servant. Still. You were attached and refused to stop.

One day you were pushed too far by the vampires that kept you. You were in agony.

After they left, you begged Olrox to set you free. You called him master like you always did. His green eyes pierced into you. You must've looked absolutely pathetic. Even without a face or body.

Something about the way he stood there enraged you. And the next time the other vampires came to make use of you, you did away with them all. Many more came to attack but your blind rage stopped them.

Olrox's smile as he watched you was irritating.

As much as you liked the guy, you were beyond tired of being viewed as a pass time. You aimed for him. And funnily enough, you did your fair share of damage.

Olrox got close enough to your prison. Imagine your surprise when he released you.

"You almost killed me." The laugh in his voice was baffling.

You had a better chance of doing that now that you were free. You didn't find it worth being impressed over. At least, not from his perspective.

You blinked as he simply turned to walk away.

Odd as it was, you instinctively thanked your master. Your previous rage was dwarfed by your confusion at Olrox's contradictory actions. All you could muster in your daze was gratitude.

Olrox replied with saying he had no idea who you were referring to.

You blinked.

"You're smart enough to slaughter a group of fools beholden to their delusions of grandeur. And another who stood by even as your screams carried over the ocean." Olrox smirks. "I think you're long past that."

You blinked. Smart, he says.

Olrox shrugged at your confusion. "You choose now of all nights to end them. Or us. I suppose I'm included in that. You've been watching the moon, haven't you? Being free now...Why, I don't think the night has ever been so beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"

You were baffled at what he was implying. You insisted on calling him master.

He tutted your fixation on that.

"That's what no one ever told you. You don't need masters."

You gaped.

He smiled. "You figured that out all on your own. Everyone here is dead. You made an attempt on my life for my inaction. In what world does someone like that need anyone?"

You went quiet. Olrox was going to leave. You watched him go.

"You may follow me. If you wish." Olrox said without turning or stopping.

Your breath hitched at him reading your desires so easily.

"On one condition."

You bristled. Of course no one ever offered company without a catch-

"Never call me 'master' again." Olrox frowned pointedly at you.

You gaped. An odd request. But...You found yourself silently agreeing, following quickly.

Olrox smiles. A lot softer than you were used to. "I would like to see an actual form in front of me."

You blinked. Was that his way of...encouraging you?

You flushed, solidifying yourself the moment you were outside.

Olrox hummed. "Imagine hiding something this captivating. You're foolish about the strangest things."

You felt you should have been offended. But tears found their way to you. As shrewd as he put it, he undoubtedly called you beautiful.

You two knew each other for centuries and now you were attached to the hip in the open world. You were there for the murder of Julia. Olrox thanked you greatly for assisting in tracking her down but told you to stay out of the fight. You kept to the shadows and proudly watched your beloved friend triumph.

Richter was hardly conscious of everything around him. He froze at Olrox kneeling before him. Your presence felt more like a dream rather than what he was actually seeing. He wasn't sure he had actually seen another vampire there. It was intentional on your part, you hadn't wanted to give Olrox trouble and used your abilities the moment you spotted Julia. Your eyes have haunted Richter's nightmares for years. Though he is unable to tell if it was Olrox's or not. He doesn't remember you.

Mentioned this before, but Olrox allows you to hang onto him.

It's incredibly common place for you to rush to Olrox and put your hands on his chest and lean on him.

He responds with a hand on the small of your back. He'll fully embrace you if you've been separated during battle.

He will full on guard you with his body if it is needed. Though, it's rare. You are a strong vampire.

Full disclosure if he despises someone that flirts with you. Massive protective brother energy.

"Cunts need washings before they speak."

"Olrox!"

Olrox and you use endearments on one another. "Love" and "darling" are the most prominent. But pick your poison of birds, flowers or gems you compare each other to.

You were not amused by Olrox targeting Mizrak. Out of all the men he chose to ove on" with, a hypocritical human of the cloth wasn't in your pickings of the list. You saw Olrox running into his bad habits with him. It worried you.

You had a distaste for Mizrak from the start. It was sealed when he barked at Olrox.

You hissed. "Small mutts shouldn't bark so loud."

Olrox couldn't find it in himself to listen at first. It had been a while, but you knew he was still grieving.

You stayed by his side to offer support but you were waiting for him to throw the whole man out.

You whimpered and touched Olrox's forehead after what Drolta did to him.

"Olrox, love, your pretty little head is hidden."

You were enraged but simply allowed Olrox to take a breath and hold your hand while offering a soft kiss.

It's actually funny how much you have a "you can do better" attitude regarding Mizrak.

To a point Olrox has tickled you with a feather when you go on too long.

Thankfully, your intervention wore Olrox down and he was thinking far more clearly.

Either you healed Mizrak or let him die peacefully.

Regardless, he was weighing down your best friend over your dead blood sucking body. Watching Olrox chose immortality for someone a second time wasn't something you were going to allow.

I feel like being Olrox's best friend would be so nice. Olrox having all that love and trust in you to keep you close and being able to vulnerable. Olrox is the type of friend that you would be attached to the hip with at all times and would be so gentle and caring. Especially considering it's clear Olrox's orbit is scarce due to his past and how he feels about people in general. So his best friend is someone he'd be incredibly protective of and would cherish.

Olrox and his best friend would have tons of witty banter that both pokes fun at the other while also remaining wholesome and affectionate. Though the ones directed at others is ruthless and cutting. Olrox is for sure that friend you sit by and judge others with. You two have this telepathic connection (either literal or metaphorical) where you don't even need to look at each other and you just- react the same way to situations and people's stupidity, both facial expressions and body language. You two are menaces when it comes to being in other's presence. Regardless if it's holding a conversation or being in combat.

Olrox has gently tutted you to behave yourself on rare occasions but you can tell by his grin that he was absolutely encouraging your mischief. He even whispers his own quip in your ear every now and then, adoring when you giggle in response. You two are the biggest gossip buddies in private, making each other howl with laughter discussing what you think about recent events or the people you've ran into. Olrox would be helping you either bathe, do your hair, or simply sharing the bed with you all the while.

Olrox's voice is noticeably softer and thinner with you. Olrox keeps you close by having a gentle hand on your shoulder, waist, or having you cling to his arm. Olrox will often pull you to him and kiss your temple. Or on the side of your cheek. Either as a simple gesture of affection or giving you a swift goodbye in the rare times you two have to separate. Olrox will also hold you to his chest if you're hurting. Olrox seems harsh but for you he actively practices the utmost tenderness when comforting you.

Goodness forbid someone else caused your distress. Olrox will be absolutely feral if anyone dares cause you harm. You are his dear friend and he cherishes your spot in his life. He'll be damned if he lets someone disrupt that, even in the smallest ways.

[sturnstarrz]

formally introducing... a mafia!chratt au

“we’ve all broken our rules for someone." "...or two."

the italian mafia is the strongest and deadliest crime organization that exists in new york city. there's several families that have withstood decades fighting against each other within the mafia to gain control over the city.

the sturniolo family has held power above all others for generations. the name is feared in most households, their reputation being a ruthless one. if you were someone who ever got caught up in their dealings, you quickly came to learn that they were a cruel and intimidating family. they kept their circle tight, their business unknown and their money flowing.

but they honored loyalty like no other. they were fierce when it came to protecting their own. and you had known the sturniolo brothers since you were a small child.

justin, nick, matt, and chris.

your mother told you stories about the couple that lived in the house directly across from yours. she used to be close friends with them. a few days after you were born, they welcomed triplets. practically everyone in town ranted and raved, gushing over the rare occurrence.

however, their father jimmy, did not appreciate the amount of attention that it was gathering.

he adored his baby boys... loved them. but he was a hard and strict man, involved in a dangerous line of work. something he was able to keep a secret for years. he couldn't afford people sticking their noses into his life, more than they usually did. especially when he was on the cusp of something big at the time.

he wanted to send the boys to live with their uncle on the other side of town. they could still learn the ropes of the family business, as all sons are expected to do in the mafia.

they would be raised there, at least until they were older, and gained their own identities and differences. as small children, you could barely tell them apart. they would get stopped almost every place they went. jimmy argued with mary lou, insisting that they would be the cause of him getting caught. he was paranoid. he believed attention lead to gossip and gossip lead to exposure.

the mafia weren't the only cruel and harsh people in the city.

but mary lou refused, threatening that she would divorce him if he made them leave. so he had no choice but to keep his boys home.

he was tough on them, like he was with justin. teaching them how to fight, how to intimidate. how to run the business.

how to take over when the day comes and he would be gone.

he was arrested when you were 16, the memories of it still fresh in your mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you heard the loud banging.. the shouting. their house was raided, and you watched from your bedroom window as they dragged out jimmy in handcuffs.

it was then you found out what kind of world the triplets were really born into.

it was agreed since you were young that they would always protect you, due to your mothers connection from years ago and the bond that seemed to develop as you all grew up together.

there used to be sunny afternoons, goofing around in their backyard after school or snowy weekends during the winter, sipping stolen liquor around the warm fireplace.

but after the arrest, you didn't see your friends as much as you used to. it quickly changed into them missing days from school and friday nights alone in your room. their uncle rob would often take the boys on jobs, while their mom was passed out drunk on the couch.

he moved into their house once jimmy was sentenced to help continue raising them. he was given 15 years. the boys would be much older then, and they needed to catch up fast to the harsh realities of their family business. who knew what could happen to their father in jail.. being one of the most undercover powerful crime bosses in the city meant you had plenty enemies.

and now... it's 1987. you just turned 21, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. your mom is sick, and has been for the past few years. cancer.

it's just you and your aunt now to take care of her. your dad left when you were 5 and you've only felt a real sense of family when you used to eat sunday dinner at the sturniolo house.

your dreams of attending university once you graduated are lost. the cozy diner a few blocks from your neighborhood is currently keeping you afloat, and you save whatever money you can from tips so that you can maintain a sliver of hope of moving far away from this crime-ridden and corrupt city.

you avoid the sturniolos like the plague. you want nothing to do with their way of living. and they don't seem to care about the distance you've created or they're simply too involved in their business, the own crushing weight of their family name and responsibilities on their shoulders as well.

it's just that... you can't help the feeling of longing that resides in your chest. the way you miss what once was.

you hold a soft spot in your heart for them, for their family. they might intimidate everyone else but not you. you know them.

you know who they really are.

disclaimer! : this au is dark and has many themes and descriptions of violence, crime, sex and drugs. i do not condone any of the actions or events that will be included in this story nor do i claim to have accurate knowledge of gangs, mafias, crime, etc. it's also a borderline poly relationship dynamic between reader and matt and chris [not incestual obviously] but if that bothers you, then this fic is not for you.

divider credits : @strangergraphics

[eeboor]

here comes a long post i’m fucking sorry lmao

a really interesting point was raised the other day about who the better person is (morally): jayce talis or jayce giopara? [insert obligatory admission about the fact that giopara has an annoying personality].

Like, talis is of course nice and kind and wonderful, perhaps a bit naive, but i don’t think we talk about how far he’s willing to go for what he believes. he weaponizes hextech because mel asks him to, and he doesn’t think further. he blatantly ignores viktor’s wishes about destroying the hexcore, even using it on his corpse to reanimate him. he ignores the council and does what he wants, enacting vigilante justice at the cost of innocent lives (including an actual child). he set up the fucking hexgates in such a way that they pollute the water supply of the undercity. and then, when he’s back from his sabbatical in hell, he goes to viktor. he looks him in the eyes, with the weapon he never wanted him to make, and he shoots him. what the actual fuck this guy is unhinged. he doesn’t THINK. he has no sense of consequences—of course if you keep unsecured, highly unstable and explosive materials in your residential apartment, things might blow up in your face (literally!). of course your patron won’t support you—she is beholden to social opinion. of course weapons can never be unmade and are always used. of course using the scary magical dodecahedron your partner begged you to destroy to bring said partner back from the dead will bring him back Different ™️. come on Jayce.

and then giopara. he has no true family, instead is left to the bloodthirsty clans who want him for what he can give them. he’s antisocial. he’s fucking annoying. he’s a diva 💜. he’s impossible to work with but impossible to get rid of because he’s just that smart. he hates politics and only gets into them to appease his investors so he can do what he actually wants. he doesn’t give a fuck about the common people who look up to him so much. he’s alone, alone, alone. and then he’s not. he meets this other brilliant mind, the only one who can keep up with him. i mean how insane would that be? he must have been at least a little obsessed with viktor because of that. then picture jayce, in all his egotistical glory, drunk on life and the belief that he and viktor are the brightest minds alive, when viktor shows him the diver suits. why does he resist? why does he care? no one in his life is telling him to care. he just does. he sees the devices for what they are, or at least what they could be twisted to be, and calls viktor out on it. he doesn’t speak up for viktor when the stanwick thing happens, it’s true, but doubtless he simply expected viktor to wow and amaze with a different project and be happy with the credit from that. and then viktor leaves. and jayce is a one man act again. like always. like forever and always. jayce acts wrongly, it’s true, when it comes to viktor and destroying his lab and accidentally killing those people, but he saw what he thought was evil and he went for it. no thought of what he could lose. no thought of who he could lose.

idk man there’s something about these two. by no means do i think talis is a bad person, in fact i think he’s a fundamentally good one. but he’s just so fucking naive, and towards the end he’s willing to do ANYTHING for what he believes, no matter the grisly consequences. he’s fucking scary. he’s unhinged. giopara on the other hand has a terrible personality, but is completely unwavering in his beliefs no matter the cost to himself or his relationships. viktor asked him to work together again, and he said “get a psyche eval” and slammed the door.

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[maxdibert]

Yah so how the fuck did Remus manage to "forgive" Sirius? And why does everyone in the fandom always take The Prank as an opportunity to make Wolfstar angst... Like...no?

I'm sick of seeing posts that are like "Sirius going back to his house and having a breakdown" "Remus not talking to Sirius to Sirius sends him a letter about how sad and depressed he is because none of their friends are talking to him". Oh my gosh. ENOUGH OF THAT 😮‍💨

Oh no, the consequences to my own fucking actions--- No SHIT, Remus doesn't want to speak with you. WHY WOULD HE??? And people just completely shove Severus into the corner as if he wasn't also going through something. This fandom man...

Honestly, I’ve never been interested in Wolfstar, and not because I dislike the characters but because it doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, if I had to choose a pairing for Sirius among his friends, for me, it would clearly be James, because Sirius was literally obsessed with him. He wasn’t just his best friend; Sirius’ entire life revolved around James, and even 12 years after his death, he couldn’t move on, to the point of projecting James onto Harry and getting upset when he realized they were two different people. Look, Molly Weasley gives me the creeps, but she was absolutely right when she called him out, saying that sometimes it seemed like he wasn’t seeing Harry but James—because that’s exactly what was happening.

But beyond that, Sirius shows absolutely zero interest in Remus or at least zero empathy. It’s clear that if there was any glue holding the group together, it was James. James had more sense than the two ringleaders combined, or at least more common sense to know where the limits were. He was also the one who took care of Remus when he had nowhere to go after finishing school. My theory is basically that Sirius hung out with Remus and Peter because James tolerated them, and because having a werewolf friend gave him an excuse to act recklessly. If we look at SWM, Sirius remarks that he wishes it were a full moon because he’s bored. He couldn’t care less that for Remus it’s a traumatic moment each month, because for Sirius, it means going out, living dangerously, and messing around with his friends. What’s a trauma for Remus is an opportunity for fun for Sirius. He doesn’t consider what it represents for his friend; he doesn’t show that his reason for becoming an animagus is to provide moral support. Instead, he’s WISHING for the moment his supposed friend dreads most because, for him, it’s an exciting event. That’s not appreciating someone—it’s seeing them as a means to an end, a tool. That’s pure utilitarianism, not friendship.

Now, let’s move on to the facts. In “The Prank,” Sirius doesn’t care about the consequences. He thinks it’s funny and is totally thoughtless because that’s just who he is—someone who was never taught about morals or ethics and who basically chose a different “side” than his family’s just to spite them. He’s a rebellious and chaotic spirit who despises snobbery, and that’s about it. There’s no deeper philosophy, no deconstruction. Deep down, he behaves like any other Black, believing he has the right to control others—whether it’s ending someone’s life if they’re “stupid enough to fall for the trap” (Severus, in this case), which he justifies by saying they deserved it, or using others for his malicious ends (Remus). It’s James who has a modicum of conscience and who thinks about the consequences, stopping Severus because James was taught values and understands that certain lines shouldn’t be crossed. But also, I think James genuinely cared about Remus and probably understood what it might mean for him to end someone’s life.

Then there’s the post-Hogwarts relationship. Remus is always portrayed as being very close to the group when canonically, Peter was the one who was always trailing James and Sirius like a cheerleader. Ultimately, they chose Peter over Remus to be the Secret Keeper. This happened because CANONICALLY, Remus had distanced himself from the group, and CANONICALLY, it was Sirius who suggested Peter because he didn’t trust Remus—thinking he might have joined the dark side. This wasn’t something that came from Lily or James; it came from Sirius. Sirius was the one who considered that Remus might have betrayed them. Is that really what a true friend would think? How can people even consider there’s chemistry or a sexual subtext between them when canonically, Sirius repeatedly demonstrates that he doesn’t care about Remus at all? He only starts paying attention to him years later, after escaping Azkaban and realizing his best friend is dead, and his personal cheerleader turned out to be a traitor who ruined his life. Then, when only the two of them are left standing, Sirius starts giving him attention—but only because he’s the last one left. That’s it. Even Rowling herself described Remus ages ago as “the third wheel in a two-person relationship,” referring to Sirius and James. Seriously.

And let’s not forget that Remus never doubted that Sirius could be a traitor either—he always believed him guilty. It’s funny when they’re portrayed as missing each other, but missing each other from what? Remus thought Sirius was scum the whole time! And how could he not? He’d seen Sirius be cruel, even sadistic, and show zero remorse. It’s no wonder it fit for him to think Sirius had lost his mind.

As for how Remus handled all this, it’s no mystery: Remus is very similar to Severus in terms of his position. He was a vulnerable kid clinging to any lifeline to keep a low profile and feel safe. Sirius and James provided that safety—they made him feel protected and accepted. He never raised his voice or questioned their decisions because the mere thought of being rejected terrified him. Even as an adult, he keeps justifying their crap because he’s clearly incapable of going against those who gave him a place when he needed it. Remus is also a terribly cowardly man—he doesn’t have the guts to confront things. He has a super avoidant personality, which is crystal clear when he leaves a 13-years-younger pregnant woman because he can’t handle the pressure. A 17-year-old kid has to make him come back—is there anything more pathetic than that? At 38? Sirius clearly hurt him, but Remus knew that confronting Sirius meant confronting James, and if James had to choose between the two, he would always choose Sirius. So it wasn’t in Remus’ interest to speak up or express how he really felt because the idea of losing the protection that came with being their friend was far worse than feeling like crap over what Sirius did. That’s it, plain and simple.

Honestly, it’s such a shame and a total waste that everything gets reduced to couples and absurd adolescent dramas when the dynamics among those four “friends” are fascinating because they’re built on pure power relations and are deeply dysfunctional. But instead of exploring that, which I find genuinely interesting, it all gets thrown away, their personalities are rewritten, and it’s all turned into cheap teen soap operas. But whatever.

[gemsofgreece]

is it really true that there is a lot of stray cats in greece ? If yes where are there the most concentrated and how do greek people think of them ?

Absolutely. They have large populations everywhere, in pretty much all populated areas. They generally seem to get by, reproduce and find food without a lot of problems. Stray dogs, which are also not few, definitely have way more trouble whereas the cats are adjusted to this way of life. I mean, technically they live like wild animals, hunting, mating, raising their kittens, fighting, except in an urban background. Of course there are dangers for the stray cats, like getting run over by a car or hiding under cars to get warm without the driver knowing.

The Greek people don’t think much of the stray cats in particular, their presence is perceived more or less as a norm. It should be noted that this is not a new phenomenon at all, cats have always been roaming around like that in Greece. In rural areas with houses with yards, even the pet cats tend to come and go, as they have a good sense of orientation. My grandparents in the village had cats. The adult cats would go out on their own, either to mate or just to walk around, and then they would return hours later. Cats do a lot of pest hunting too, which is convenient to humans.

In the cities owners don’t allow this to happen because it’s way harder for the cat to find its way back and there are more dangers with the cars and all. In the suburbs maybe. But sometimes the cats lose their way for good or escape their owner’s notice and that’s how you get even more strays.

A nice thing I see very often is people leaving bowls with a little food and water outside of their houses for the stray cats and dogs. This is one source of food for the stray cats, others being hunting mice, snakes and birds and searching the trash cans. And going to the restaurants.

A very classic Greek image is that cats and dogs visit the open air restaurants and taverns, knowing that a charmed customer will give them a little something.

Stray cats and especially stray dogs are vulnerable to animal cruelty and even poisoning attempts. Animal crimes are punished with fines or imprisonment depending on the severity. But overall the biggest danger for the cats is car accidents.

There are sanctuaries and foundations for stray animals in Greece, if anyone is concerned for the wellbeing of the cats in their area. Many volunteers take sick or injured stray animals themselves to the vet or the shelter. Occasionally there are some sterilisation projects, when the cat population has blown up way too much but in general the state does not support non-profits almost at all.

[shadow-medic-4-08]

Hey. Callout post for whoever is sending hate anons to blogs.

To say it simply: Stop.

To say it in a complex way: Spreading hate to people on the internet who have done nothing wrong and are just having simple fun is asshole behavior. I've been seeing more and more people (mostly my fellow Call of Duty rp blogs) responding to asks that say 'kys' or other such downgrading, belittling, or negative messages. Stop it. If you have nothing to do but be an asshole on Tumblr, I'd say your life hasn't amounted to much. If you don't like someone, don't interact with them at all. If you feel the need to send a hate message to someone, find something better to do. There is ALWAYS something better to do. It has never once been necessary to send a hate message or a MESSAGE TO 'KYS' to ANYONE. And if you find it necessary, rethink.

To my fellow Call of Duty blogs: You're all amazing. Keep up what you're doing and please ignore the people that are sending hateful things. I love you all. You're all incredibly creative and funny. But one thing I'd like to add is to just DON'T reply to the hate messages. It just encourages them and gives them the validation they want. Only answer them in a way to raise awareness that it's happening. Love you guys.

[chaoticdreamlandphilosopher]

I just saw a video that was talking about vi in season 2 of arcane and talking about how she wasn’t the same and the comments even having complaints of their own and them also complaining about how Vi is written in season 2 and I just need to get this off my chest and say that I don’t agree with what some of the comments are saying about vi because I can’t help but feel like some of the comments are people who just don’t like vi as a character because of how she chooses to react to others or trying to say that she has no right or shouldn’t be reacting this way to some other characters. I saw this one comment that was paragraphing itself and it involved things claiming that vi shouldn’t be mistreating or hating her sister and all of suddenly calling her by other name “jinx” even though the only reason she does those things is because Jinx committed a terrorist attack against piltover and cost the life of her girlfriends mother and causing children to become orphans in zaun, you’d think they would bring that up as reasons as to why she kinda disowns her own sister in the first half of the season before warming up to her but they don’t because they want to make it seem like she isn’t justified to not like jinx. And then other people complain about her relationship with Caitlyn thinking that her whole character revolves around her even though it doesn’t because we still see her be her her own character and still sharing other relationships with people other than caitlyn like with Jinx and Warwick (Vander) like we see her in other relationships and I mostly think that it is the fandom that is just claiming and making it about how she is revolved around caitlyn when even the Caitlyn and Vi shippers make it clear that they don’t want people to see the other as if they’re whole character is revolved around the other only for that to happen even with people who don’t like the ship. So then the comment explains that vi is supporting her for what she is doing even though yes she is participating in Caitlyn’s actions and not saying anything bad about it because she knows that Caitlyn is not in the mood to listen to people having second thoughts about this but we can still see in vi’s face that she doesn’t support the stuff that caitlyn would bring herself to do like when caitlyn was trying to shoot jinx but was also going to shoot isha on accident if vi didn’t step in and prevent her from misfiring also not to mention after that display she confronts caitlyn about it and even ask her what’s wrong with her because she’s begging to see that her mother’s death is really getting to her in a bad way, and when Caitlyn says that vi is no different then her sister because her blood runs through her veins which gets vi mad at her and then tells her then why is she the one acting like jinx, showing that she is done taking the hate that Caitlyn has been giving to her and the people of zaun and also them believing that she is agreeing with what Caitlyn is saying about the under city people is just wow, because she literally doesn’t say anything that makes it look like she is agreeing with her and she says something in return to contradict what Caitlyn said that didn’t involve her agreeing with her. I mostly think that the reason as to why they think vi agreed with what Caitlyn said was because she was hesitant to say otherwise even though that doesn’t always mean that the person agrees with them it will often mean they don’t agree with them but they will keep it to themselves and not say it because they don’t want to start something and that’s what vi was doing in that scene.

Also the comment goes on to explain that vi had no reason to be sad the vander died because she should have gotten over his death long ago even though this was different being that her and jinx had a chance to actually bring him back and start over again so for that to all go to shit because of what happened in act 3 of course she is going to be upset about it and even cry for him again because they were so close to having their loved one back.

And I honestly didn’t want to look at more of the comments because one of them would have been complaining about how vi didn’t mourn jinx in the end even though we had a whole scene of her literally mourning jinx the moment she sacrificed herself for vi and we literally see her just laying there crying over the fact that her sister and her adopted father is dead and that she is the last of her whole family, we even still her crying when it cuts to another scene indicating that she was laying there for a long time before someone found her.

What I’m trying to say is that the video and the comments didn’t feel like criticism it felt more like hate for the character and hating on their flaws even though these are the same people who say that they want more complex female characters but when that character is written to have more flaws she gets hated and the fandom will try and make it seem as though she has no right to feel the way she may feel and thinking she has to have flaws just flaws that they will like not flaws that they won’t like

[wigglebox]

Obviously this place isn’t Instagram but I wanted to let y’all know I’m gonna delete my Instagram probably later today.

TLDR: Deleting Instagram, I’m on Bluesky, here and RedNote. Explore the internet more!

*~*

I don’t like META but I’m forced to have a personal account for my job. But I want to get rid of every Instagram I have.

Being an artist online is a daily struggle to share your work and be seen and feeling encouraged to create more. We want others to see our stuff. The art we make for ourselves we don’t always share.

This is a truth I’ve known for a while now but didn’t wholly process until Saturday that we need to explore more. We need to explore new methods and apps and websites and delivery systems.

When the TikTok blip happened for us Americans many of us were panicking because of the greater implication of our rights. But, in the lead up to said blip, I saw many people talking about how they were coding their own spaces and other apps. Bluesky is coming out with an Instagram rival and I’ve seen several alternatives to tiktok in development.

Every social media website and app, or really anything that encourages mass gatherings of people online, has a life cycle. Some end quick and some end over an extended period of time. People my age really understand this as we have been online since the Wild West of the internet age. I’ve seen every phase of Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I’ve seen the rise and fall of spaces like Gaiaonline, Xanga and MySpace.

The issue with Facebook is what I call the “META Virus” and it acts like a vampiric parasite, sucking the life out of corners of the internet to keep its zombie self alive. Instagram was one of these places. Facebook should not have lasted more than 7-8 years as most. It was an early social media website and far superior ones sprung up behind it. But it’s a zombie now.

So, at the end of the day, I’m just going to delete my accounts there.

I think it’s very important we explore. Pretend these are little worlds or galaxies and explore. I know we want to keep fandoms alive and there’s no reason to suggest they won’t on other platforms. You just have to find your people.

You can find me currently on Tumblr, obviously, and BlueSky and RedNote (xiaohongshu).

I’ve deleted many of my tiktok videos to go back to 2023 mostly and don’t plan on posting there. I want to make art videos but I don’t want to post those videos where people aren’t interested.

I will be exploring pixelfed and other apps and I have followed the developers of even more apps and websites. I’ll post about any one I join to here and Bluesky but when in doubt, I’ll always be wigglebox or wiggleboxart!

I’m also exploring making a Neocities page as a sort of landing site for me and see if I can set up a newsletter or Patreon. If I set a Patreon up the tiers will be low. Probably just one for like, $2 or something. Mostly because for us Americans it’s going to be a penny pinching way going forward.

I’m not sure yet about Patreon yet I’m still brainstorming that.

Suffice it to say, after all this rambling, we need to be internet explorers (not THAT internet explorer) much like we were in the early 2000s if you remember that time.

Thank you for reading and understanding!

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Whore AU - Voryn I

Author's Note: no nsft yet, but this girl getting collared.

-----------------------------------

To the chief of the False Gods,

Consider the yearly offering no longer necessary. The one last sent has proven to be more valuable than first expected.

Vivec sucked in a sharp breath. No. This was not happening. Further investigation of the whore's background had given more hints, hints he REALLY thought the Temple should have noticed when investigating her in the first place. The corprus infection and recovery should have been noticed. SOMEONE should have seen something!

He went on reading and ignored certain insults. What came next was more alarming anyway.

Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur, will offer you a six-month truce under one condition: Send Nerevar's bones, of which we are certain you are possessed, to Kogoruhn.

Vivec waited until he was sure he was alone and screamed. He didn't have these outbursts as a rule, because they didn't help solve the situation...but it was impossible not to. They'd handed the Nerevarine to Dagoth Ur, offered unknowingly that very thing which drove him to do all that he did.

And it had been a whore. A fucking WHORE. Someone who had no reason not to accept some sort of counter-offer, someone who had admitted to the Temple she wouldn't mind getting out of the life. Or perhaps Dagoth Ur was simply refusing to let her leave - either way the result was the same.

The Sharmat had Nerevar back, and they had no choice but to send him the bones. Six months - they could do a lot with six months of truce.

Vivec took a deep breath and started a letter he would later hand to an ordinator, regarding a certain hidden chamber in the Puzzle Canal.

-----------------------------

Nerevar, sweet Nerevar had returned, practically been handed to him on a sacrificial platter, and here he was completely unprepared for it! Perhaps the woman was, too--she seemed aware of what was going on, yet confused about what it meant. She obeyed the commands the same as Nerevar always had, with the same eagerness - there was an echo there, the presence he meant to swell in its appearance.

The ash creatures were going through the several boxes of things - things left from the First Era, that had been carefully preserved. A few random robes (he would take one of those, too), old relics of House Dagoth miraculously preserved through the end of the First and the entire Second Era, collected.

But until he reached into the box and pulled out that strip of leather with the brass buckle on it, he was not content.

"Nerevar has returned to us," he said, directing his words to the ash creatures standing and watching him, "And this will be celebrated appropriately - but tomorrow."

He looked at the strip of leather.

"Tonight I do not wish to be disturbed."

-----------------------------------

Sadara had no idea what was going on. She'd been kneeling for five minutes now and still Dagoth Ur hadn't returned. Perhaps this was part of his request...or his desire...he wanted to be waited on somehow. The roleplaying of being above her, even though he already was. Perhaps he meant to catch a worshiper at pray, sort of thing.

Just as she was thinking of getting back up, she heard footsteps and lowered her head.

"What is your name? Where have you lived?"

"Sadara," she said. "From Cyrodiil, but I lived in Ebonheart."

"Dragon-born, and far-star marked..." Dagoth Ur said it softly as he approached. "You have read the prophecies, I assume."

"No," she said, "People talk of them, but I've never read them. No point in it, considering..."

"As it turns out, there is every reason for you to have done so."

He stopped beside her.

"If I know who and what you are," he said, "It is no doubt that the Temple does as well. What have you told them?"

What was going on? Was this part of his little game? They'd discussed nothing as she'd done with the other brothers.

"I told one person I'd had corprus, but...I joked that I got better. And I turned down the potions of Cure Disease they offered me," she said, still not looking up.

"So they will know." There was a pause as he crouched beside her.

She shivered.

"What I want," he said, "Is what I had with Nerevar. You comprehend?"

"Somewhat. I don't--understand very well what's been happening. The commands in Ald Chimeris..."

Dagoth Ur spoke quietly as he reached out to wrap that strip of leather about her neck, and then fastened it, "Nerevar enjoyed very much being taken care of. As King he had always to be in control, to give commands to his people and his armies. It was to me he came when he needed to be free of that stress."

"What was the command that--?"

"Sit, boy." He stroked her hair, and then stood back up again. "The final test, the test that proved to me that you are what you are. That you are Nerevar, come back to me. No one else would react to those words that way, but Nerevar. Or his incarnate."

"The--Temple is going to kill me." She shivered again.

"No, no, we can't have that." A dark little chuckle came then, and he stood back up. "You clearly need this as much as Nerevar did. Now."

His tone shifted and he spoke in what she assumed was Ald Chimeris again.

"Follow."

Clearly, this was going to be a long night.

[deadhands69]

A New End: Dust

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Spoilers: Kamino Ward through Overhaul's Debut Contains: gn/eventual afab reader, angst, canon typical violence, cussing, eventual smut in the series

previous - this is part 3 [series masterlist]

|\/\/\| dust |/\/\/|

A damp concrete floor meets your back. Someone's leg moves under your shoulder before another body lands square on top of you. The warp gate closes, leaving you in this dimly lit place. Everyone scrambles to extricate themselves. You’re still woozy from hitting your head and you think you might throw up. 

In the tangle of limbs, you see Shigaraki’s icy blue hair. In spite of his requests begs to stay and help, he was sent to this rundown building with the rest of you. 

“Is anyone hurt? Get off of me!” yells Twice. 

No one responds, which you take as a good sign. As soon as everyone's up and moving, you begin assessing the situation. 

The old hideout is compromised. 

You can't go back. 

Or maybe you can? Shigaraki's sensei will take care of it, right? 

The air is thick with tension as you all wait for an update, not really sure what you're expecting. Those of you who had phones on you are glued to them. 

It's live on every news site: All Might vs. All For One. Is that who Shigaraki’s master is? You've heard of him, but you can't quite place it. Your head is still pounding. 

“What's going to happen?” Shigaraki's gravelly voice echoes from across the massive warehouse. 

“I-I don't know yet.”

And that’s true. Your decisions and those of the people around you landed you all here. Your quirk always feels selfish, only showing you outcomes you will have an emotional response to. You can't say for sure what will happen to his sensei because you don't know him, but you'd be willing to guess it's not about to change the outcome for any of you. That's not something you're going to say out loud though. 

He senses your unease, probably knowing the implications but he tries to ignore it. 

Minutes later, a new headline flashes across your screens. 

That's it. 

You resign yourself to this new development faster than most of the others, there's nothing any of you can do about it right now. Dabi and Toga adjust quickly as well, you get the feeling both of them have survived a lot of massive changes in life. 

At least you're all wearing somewhat warm clothes. Still, you're glad it's summer and the cool nights aren't too harsh yet. 

Emptying your pockets, you have a phone but no charger. $14 in cash. And a key to the building none of you can safely return to. 

The others are doing the same, minus Dabi who has never seems to have more than a phone on him at any given time. 

Shigaraki is counting his hands. His fully visible face somehow looking both repulsed by them and concerned for their safety. You're not sure what to make of that. 

No one has any medications. It doesn't take your quirk to know that's a recipe for disaster in this group. There are already talks between Dabi and Magne about robbing a pharmacy. 

The shock persists over the next few hours before it's decided you should all try to get some sleep. You lay on the ground near Magne and try to get some rest. 

Instead, the silence only gives you time to overthink. This is the type of situation your boss has you around to prevent, but you couldn't predict the decisions that led here in time to do anything about them. Still, he didn't send you away. Shoving you through the gate to safety instead. In spite of his coldness, he at least cares enough to keep you alive. Or maybe he still just sees your quirk as potentially useful. Regardless of why he did it, you want to thank him, but tonight hasn't felt like the right time.

He's been uncharacteristically quiet, mostly keeping to himself all night. Now, carrying the guilt of being the reason for his master's downfall. You hear him mumbling in the small stints of sleep he does get. How he should have done better. Not gotten caught. If only he'd been there in the last moments of the fight. 

You wish there was something you could say to make him feel better. But no magical words come to mind and morning arrives quickly. 

In the light of dawn, you can see that this is an old factory that's no longer in use. While exploring, you find a bathroom to wash up in but without toiletries or fresh clothes to change into, there's no use. 

As much as you've spent your life trying not to overvalue material objects, you have to admit that you quickly find yourself missing a few things. The hoodie you got at a concert last year. The worn underwear that fit your hips just right. The ticket stub you'd been using as a bookmark for years. Books you haven't finished. Your toothbrush. Anything resembling hygiene or skin care for that matter. 

You can’t replace everything, but you’ll try to find substitutes for some of it. The group comes up with a list and nominates you and Compress to go to the store (the two least recognizable with the most useful combination of quirks for the job.)

Over the next few weeks, life begins to normalize - if you could call it that. With a few adjustments, your makeshift shelter becomes more habitable. You have some time to explore the abandoned buildings nearby. Most of the others resume recruiting new members. And the all too familiar feeling of dread overtakes you once more.

The cold, damp space has taken its toll on everyone’s health. There’s constantly someone coughing, it’s become background noise at this point. The illness has even infected your dreams, filling your half-sleepless nights with visions of a medieval plague doctor. You aren’t the only one who struggles to sleep though.

Prior to this month, you thought you’d gotten to know the league pretty well. At least, during the day. You’ve recently been finding everyone’s tiny habits and schedules are drastically different when you’re all placed in the same cavernous room together. Toga clicks her pen repeatedly while considering what to write next in her heart-covered diary. 

You’re sitting on your thin roll-up bed, trying to read a book you picked up on your last store trip. You’ve been trying to read it for a week now, making it 34 pages from having to go over every paragraph at least three times with the amount of interruptions you’ve encountered.

“Stop clicking,” Magne finally snaps, “I’m trying to *cough* sleep here.”

Everything is silent for a moment, with the exception of the water dripping from the leaky roof. You’ve come to appreciate Magne, the more you’ve gotten to know her. She’s usually pretty laid back but keeps everyone in check when needed. 

Nights are easier. Most of the league is out at night anyways, making it a bit more quiet. Compress always has somewhere important to be. Dabi never gets home before four am. Not that he makes much noise, you’ve surprisingly found him to be one of the more quiet ones.

Shigaraki resumes shuffling around the space. Lately, he’s been doing this every night instead of sleeping. Sometimes he’ll sit near you, not making conversation, just existing. You don’t mind, in spite of his prickly personality having him around is oddly comforting. Plus, as much as you’ve been trying to bury your feelings, he’s been wearing the hands less when it’s just a few of you around and you’re not about to complain about getting to see his face more often.

Like every night, Twice gives everyone who’s still awake a quick wave and flips you off before walking out the door to track down the new recruits he’s mentioned. 

“I get a bad feeling every time he leaves,” you mutter to Shigaraki, whose evening pacing brought him to your corner.

“Just a feeling?” he asks, looking more bored than concerned.

“Yeah, but -”

“I can’t do anything with a feeling. Tell me when it’s less vague,” he says before walking away.

Closing your book, you lay down, resigned. You try to focus on the sound of his steps. The resuming of Toga’s pen clicking. Magne’s echoing coughs. The sound of your own breath. Yet, you still can’t get it out of your head.

What if it’s too late?

The next afternoon, you’re sent out shopping again. This time, by yourself. Even Compress has been getting recognized more often lately, so it's up to you to gather supplies for the group. You walk around the room, collecting small scraps of paper with people’s lists on them. Compress, Spinner, and Magne are the first to finish theirs. Toga’s is bulleted with hearts. Twice scribbled a few things in writing you are still learning to make out. Dabi is curled up on one of the platforms hanging from the rafters, fast asleep. You let him rest, his list is always the same anyways: soba noodles and a bottle of aloe vera.

Taking some cash out of the stack of charred wallets Dabi left by the door when he came home this morning, you glance at Shigaraki to see if he has a list. He never does. Instead, he walks you out.

“Try to get green tea, if you can,” he says as you exit to the almost too bright road, “and ohagi, if they have it anywhere. It’s still early.”

“Yeah, I’ll look,” you say, admiring how nice he looks in the sunlight. “Anything else?”

“Nope,” he responds before turning abruptly and closing the door behind you.

With how far out of town you are, the walk takes a while. The sun is setting when you begin the return, hands now filled with shopping bags. Your fingers are raw from the handles digging into your skin. You’re about five blocks out when you realize the feeling in the pit of your stomach has been getting worse all night. That has to mean something. Quickening your pace, you break into a run.

Suddenly, your vision is clouded and there’s nothing but the plague doctor from your dreams and dust? Something worse. Every bone in your body is aching with grief. It takes all your will to not throw up. The supplies lie forgotten near your feet as you clumsily dial the numbers on your phone through your tear blurred vision. 

Shigaraki. 

Dabi. 

Twice. 

No one answers. You call Magne, only for it to go directly to voicemail without a single ring. Having already seen what that means, you fall to the sidewalk sobbing. 

It’s only September, but the cool night air sends chills across your skin. You should have worn a jacket. Even now, you should walk back to the warehouse. It’s only a few blocks to go, but you don’t have it in you to make it there. Not yet.

A while later, a shadow looms overhead. 

“Get up,” Shigaraki grumbles. “We’ve all had a long night and you need to get out of the cold.” You glare up at him. With a sigh, his shoulders drop. “Come on,” he groans, “let’s talk about it.”

Decaying the door behind you in an instant, he pulls you to your feet and pushes you through the entry. His red eyes peer into yours, waiting for you to say something. 

“I could have stopped that,” you cry, “I told you I had a bad feeling about this.”

He kicks some debris out of the way to walk further into the room.  

“I’m doing my best, but you have to actually listen to me!” you scream, knowing you’re probably taking more out on him than necessary but you can’t find a way to stop yourself. He makes no attempt to quiet you. 

“And you’re always harsher on me than everyone else, why?” you continue. You know you won’t get a satisfying answer out of him, but the words keep spilling out. “Do you hate me or something?”

“Why does it matter?” he spits back at you.

So many thoughts come to mind, most telling you to drop it. But the question still hangs unanswered, taunting you. You know he’ll continue to deflect until you have a solid logical reason.

“My quirk only works for events I have an emotional tie to, it helps to know where I stand with people. It helps me decide what’s relevant,” you say as calmly as you can manage, voice still wavering.

The silence between the two of you is thick. 

“No,” he pauses to consider his next words carefully, “I don’t hate you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you mumble. After another moment of silence, he glares at you then continues.

“I really don’t hate you. It’s - there’s something about you that makes me wish my life was different. And it pisses me off.”

“Oh?” What the fuck does that mean? “You’re here tonight though and you haven’t dusted me, so I guess I don’t piss you off too much.”

“Guess not,” he flinches before shrugging, still not looking directly at you. 

“What exactly do you mean when you say I make you wish your life was different? Did I fuck everything up for you that bad?”

“No,” he swiftly dismisses the idea, hands waving in front of him. “It’s not like that, it’s just…”

He takes a step closer to you, cheeks dusted with a blush you hadn’t noticed until now. At this distance, all you can think about is how amazing his lips look. How easy it would be to lean in and kiss him. Part of you is upset for thinking about something so trivial at a time like this until you realize he’s staring at you the same way. Your vision clouds, but only slightly. Premonitions overlap each other, softly tinting reality like double exposed film. They’re all moving too quickly to catch any of the possibilities, nothing sticks.

“Hey,” Toga’s saccharine sweet voice cuts through the air, “we just came to, uhm, check on you.”

Twice jumps in without thinking, “We heard you arguing from down the street then it got too quiet,” before abruptly adding, “is [y/n] okay??”

Shigaraki groans. “Why does everyone think I’m going to- ugh fucking nevermind,” his fists tightly grip the sleeves of his jacket, sans thumb, as he turns and walks out the door. Quickly, you all follow, finding him pacing on the sidewalk while feverishly scratching his neck. 

Toga and Twice are happy to carry the groceries back while you trail behind.

The back of Shigaraki’s hand bumps your wrist, drawing your attention.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he mumbles under his breath, “just so you know.” It takes a moment to remember what he’s referring to. He has his fingers wrapped in his jacket, hands tucked close to him. For the first time, he looks almost uncomfortable with his quirk.

Suddenly, you realize what he meant when he said you make him wish his life could be different.

a new end masterlist - bnha masterlist

Taglist: @tomuratoucher

[realtapiocafan]

hiiiiiii i was reading your tags from the fic snippet and learned something new in that i did not Know ja’marr moved to dallas omgg 😀 can u provide some more info on this ✍🏿✍🏿✍🏿

Ofc! (This is long)

So from what I gather, after opting out, Ja'Marr went back home (Harvey, Louisiana - close to NOLA) until about November, when he moved to Dallas to get ready for the draft. In the Najee-Jaylen-Ja'Marr house thing they did (which includes what Pro Day was like post-COVID and has some other videos about the draft itself), Ja'Marr says himself that he hasn't actually been at the LSU campus ever since he opted out. (Also if you look at his twitter, he was live-tweeting LSU games lol).

Everything else below are articles mentioning Ja'Marr going to Dallas, as well as some other information regarding COVID-era Ja'Marr, sprinkled with my own little comments in between 🙂

So first off, the Dallas thing is specifically mentioned in this article by the Advocate (I'm going to include the necessary paragraphs bc some of these are paywalled smh)

There were more uncertain times, too. Chase opted out of the 2020 season during preseason camp last year, a time in which the pandemic was surging and there was tension in the football operations building after a mishandled team meeting regarding the team's player-led march amid national protests against police brutality. Chase told reporters at LSU's Pro Day that his decision to leave was because "I had a lot of stuff going on with my family at the time." Chase dedicated his time toward becoming a professional. From November until March, he lived and worked out at the EXOS training facility in Dallas. After almost a year out of public sight, he coolly ran a 4.38-second 40-yard dash at pro day — an impressive enough time that Jimmy said coaches and trainers told Ja'Marr he could shut it down. "I came here to put on a show," Ja'Marr told them, then proceeded to run routes and individual drills.

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The Athletic (which i honestly trust more) goes more into detail into Ja'Marr's exact location. Apparently, Ja'Marr moved from Baton Rouge back home (it sounds like it was about September). Then in November, he went to Dallas. This article also includes some more information on Ja'Marr's experience in quarantine. That quote by Ja'Marr's dad really opened my eyes, because Ja'Marr was never really alone before this. He was always part of a team, always surrounded by people until... well, he wasn't. (Also now that I think about it, Ja'Marr did say he started watching tape because of Joe and apparently spent most of this year -which was away from Joe- watching tape... maybe it reminded him of Joe 👀)

Ja’Marr stayed in Baton Rouge initially after opting out in August. He remained close with his teammates, especially the receiving corps at first. But once the season cranked up, Ja’Marr moved back home, feeling a sense of isolation without football... “We kept him close to home. We noticed that he was struggling a little bit. Life without football. Life without a team. His whole life changed. It was his first time not playing sports since he was a young kid. Gamedays were the hardest day.” One thing jumped out to Jimmy as they watched games together, though. He never fully grasped his son’s football IQ. “We watched the games with him,” Jimmy said. “He would call the plays before the snap was gone.  And he would say how Terrace (Marshall) needs to do this because the defense is about to do this. And Racey (McMath) needs to do this so he needs to watch out for this. He’d call the play and I was like, ‘Damn!’ It would happen just like he said. So sitting out actually helped in that sense. He never really watched football. He was always playing. Now all he could do was watch it. He told me and I saw how much it helped him.” Watching games with Ja’Marr, his parents sensed his pent-up energy. He was healthy, but he wasn’t playing. The energy fed right into Ja’Marr’s passion for working out. He’d run to the gym often after games to let that energy free. The regimented workout routine really kicked up about six months ago. “He’s been at EXOS (A Dallas-based training facility) since November,” Jimmy said. “They had an opt-out session group that started out where they would work out three days a week. So he started out there at the end of October or early November. That lasted until the end of December. Then in January, he started getting into the more combine workouts. He’s been working hard and getting stronger. That’s really the only thing that’s been keeping him sane is working. That’s all he could do.”

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This Sports Illustrated article further confirms he was in Dallas for at least part of 2020-2021. It also adds that Ja'Marr was so pent-up that he apparently wanted to opt back in (probably bothered by LSU being kinda shit that year -that third game, LSU lost 45-41 💀).

He spent the off-year training in Dallas, studying film and watching his former college teammates struggle through to a 5-5 COVID-impacted 2020 season. What many don’t know, his dad says, is Chase nearly returned to LSU midseason. “People don’t realize how close he was to coming back,” Jimmy says. “After the third game, he was watching and jumped off the sofa after they lost. He said ‘I’m about to opt back in!’ It was killing him.” The family seriously explored whether Chase would have been eligible to return (Jimmy says Ja’Marr would have) and spoke to coaches at length about his reinstatement. In the end, Ja’Marr remained on the sidelines. 

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This Washington Post article also goes more into depth about the impact COVID had on Ja'Marr's family and what went into the decision to opt-out (Ja'Marr apparently has a hole in his heart which SHOCKED me the first time I read it) (It also goes the most in depth into Ja'Marr's aghast reaction at Les Miles saying he should be a DB and why Ja'Marr didn't want to commit to LSU at first)

But that March, Jimmy Chase says, their family began suffering from flu-like symptoms, and older son Jimmy Jr. and Toleah would be hospitalized with what they later learned was covid-19. “I was like: Shake it off, man,” Jimmy Chase Sr. says. “I can’t die now.” During a most unpredictable spring, when the coronavirus pandemic paused sports and shut down the world, the Chase family survived but eventually learned about “long covid” and the heart and respiratory problems some patients reported. Jimmy Chase says his son’s heart problem has healed, but it remained a frightening preexisting condition and again placed the father and son on opposite sides of a tense debate.

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Last thing, if you were wondering about the team meeting in the first article, here's what information i found. Again, I don't know how reliable The Advocate actually is and unlike the article above, this is literally the only source I found that mentions this. I don't recall Ja'Marr or any other LSU players saying anything remotely negative about Orgeron - most of them say he was a great coach!

(At the same time, an old white guy giving ... maybe not racist, but tone-deaf advice to a bunch of college-aged black men, in the height of Black Lives Matter -it's not out of the question.)

Multiple sources told The Advocate that team morale turned south before the season even began, when a large group of players felt Orgeron mishandled a team meeting regarding the team's player-led march in August amid national protests against police brutality. The players skipped practice that day, met outside Tiger Stadium and marched to the university president's office without Orgeron, who later told reporters he didn't know about the protest before it happened. Orgeron met up with the players at the president's office and took part in a meeting that lasted about an hour. He later told reporters he and the players talked "about the things they're going through and how we can be a part of the solution." Privately, the meeting did not come off as productive as described. Orgeron and some players were upset during the meeting, multiple sources said, and while some players said the situation could've been handled better by all sides, other players left feeling Orgeron wasn't supportive. Three days after the meeting, star wide receiver Ja'Marr Chase announced he was opting out of the season, joining starting nickel safety Kary Vincent in preparing for the NFL draft. By the end of the week, starting nose tackle Tyler Shelvin opted out as well.

[burquillos]

I genuinely forgot that tumblr is a place that is actually decent for posting text Anyways, 431 AU Hurt and Comfort drabble following Izuku's train of thought "I've always failed to protect Kacchan and now that I don't have the power to do it anymore, the best course of action is to give up on my dream, so he follows me out of danger"

"You don't get it Kacchan!! I can't protect you anymore, you could get hurt!!"

"You're already hurting me!"

Izuku shuts his mouth. How could he say anything to that? He knows what he's been doing to Kacchan. He isn’t inviting him to guest teach that often for no reason. He hoped he could show Kacchan there are other ways of being Hero, one where he wouldn’t need to put his life in danger. He has also been deliberate in keeping Kacchan at arm’s length, just far enough to look like Just Another Person in his life, he wouldn’t want any villains getting any bright ideas especially now that he’s powerless. He's not as stupid or oblivious as people think. It hurts to see Kacchan upset, but a miserable Kacchan is better than a dead one. It's selfish of him but he can't let him go. He can’t lose him again.

Katsuki takes a deep breath like he's gathering all weight he's been carrying and then letting it drop abruptly. "Look, Izuku. I've been there before... I know you're scared." Deku flinches at that. "That's why you keep pushing me away. I finally understand how frustrating it must have been for you to lend out your hand and get it slapped away every time. That's why I don't blame you. I had no idea how you did it back then, but I've tried to follow your example, to be as strong and persevering as you were, to never give up on people.” Katsuki pauses, thinking before he steels himself to say the words, “But at some point you have to let me move on from you, just like how you moved on from me."

His words sound defeated, like everything he just said is an undeniable, unchangeable truth, and maybe it is. But the end?

"Is that what you think? That I moved on from you?” their eyes finally meet. “Kacchan, I'm still fucking stuck in that coffin in the sky! YOU DIED!! Because I couldn't get there in time! Because I treated you like you were special! Because I... I loved you and everybody could see it.”

“I was so happy when I got closer to you back at UA. You were always so bright and I’ve always dreamed of standing there by your side instead of watching you from afar like I’ve always had but I got too careless. I wanted to stay there forever, I really did but everybody kept hurting Kacchan.”

“Even at our worst, everyone saw how hard I tried to chase after you. I hated myself for not being able to say so many things, for not being able to tell you 'You're more than just a Hero to me'. But in the end, it didn���t even matter because Everybody. Still. Fucking. Knows. Because I can't control myself. Because I always slip up. Because I always lose my shit when it comes to you!

How could I move on from you when I have to spend every day scared shitless that everyone would know how much I want you and take you away from me!?”

At this point, Izuku’s completely broken down and Katsuki lets him. It was a long time coming after all. He approaches Izuku to hold him, Izuku hold him back tightly like he never wants to let go. They stay like that for a few minutes, Kacchan softly petting his hair while he calms down. After a while, Kacchan speaks.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone taking me away from you, Izuku.”

He looks up from his place snuggled on Kacchan’s chest, “What?”

“Already yours, have been for a while. Ya just need to act like it.”

“I already told you why I can’t-“

“Then try harder. Make me undoubtedly yours. Show them what happens when they mess with something that you own.”

Izuku doesn’t know if Kacchan’s words is just there to hype him up or if he’s being entirely serious about it. Either way, it sends tingles up his spine and warmth to his cheeks. But that embarrassment quickly evolves to shame.

“What if I fail again... I couldn’t even protect you even when I had all the power in world.”

“I’m not asking for your protection Izuku, just like how you didn’t ask for mine when I ran after you and jumped in front of all of those spikes. Those were MY choices and all I ask of you is to run after me too, to choose me.”

Izuku looks at him stunned. His heart feels so full he feels like he’s about to burst again. He never imagined there would be a world where he would chase after Kacchan and Kacchan would be expecting him to catch up and run by his side instead of running away from him in fear. It was everything he ever wished for as a kid.

He still thinks he’s not strong enough, but he can be brave. The same quirkless kid who chased his dreams in spite of it all.

“Okay, Kacchan.”

He musters up all his strength to smile at Katsuki and to his surprise and delight he smiles right back.

“I won’t be far behind!”