#obviously i don't have them anymore but i remember writing some really long winded and detailed notes while i watched it in class | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilac-5ky · 2 years ago

Note

As cliche as it may sound can i get a headcanon or imagine for Takasugi-kun who's strolling in the streets of edo accidentally bumps into the supposed to be dead reader (he saw her died at joui war) and she don't have any memories of him :) how will he react when he saw his lover again?

A/N: I could literally write a book with just this storyline lmfao there is something very appealing about heartbreak ;-; Funnily enough this turned out to be like a belated birthday gift to you since it took me a million years to finish, but hey happy birthday :p

Warning: This is obviously angst. Mentions of blood, depression, alcohol and smoking are included. Oh and, not really a warning but, THIS IS VERY VERY VERY LONG. Longest request I've written.

Takasugi with a presumably dead S/O reappearing in his life

Throughout the history of mankind, it's been evident that humans enjoyed observing the things around them. From studying the nature in the form of bird or flower watching, to spending hours upon hours of watching programs in their little black boxes; everyone had their vice. Takasugi was no different. Perhaps more so than others, one of the things he enjoyed the most was people watching.

There’s so much you can discover about a person just by studying them in their natural environment. How they talk, how they walk, their gestures, their laughter, all those little things reveal a great deal of information. A man who walks with his hands behind his back tends to be secretive, whereas a girl who points her shoes at the one she’s discussing with is most likely interested in them.

Takasugi always took his time noticing and analyzing such patterns. In a line of work where everyone was out to get him, picking up on these subtle cues came to be his shield of protection. After all, his intuition had yet to fail him.

While he did find some enjoyment in this hobby of his, more often than not, the conclusions he came up with disgusted him. Why was it that everyone appeared so carefree and lively when they had to share their land with the Amanto or, even worse, those filthy Bakufu dogs at the top? How could they possibly forget about what was taken from them, what was lost in the war? How could they afford to live so shamelessly, going about their days with smiles on their faces? Sometimes, he felt as if he was the only one who remembered, the only one whose wounds had yet to heal.

After such sessions, all he was left with was utter bitterness, directed at no one and everyone all at once. He detested that the world had somehow managed to move on when he was left all by himself in the past. There was no place for him to stand and breathe freely anymore. A passerby among passersby, that’s all he was. Just like the family of three that walked to his left, just like the old man selling takoyaki to his right, and just like the woman who-

“I’m so sorry!” The woman bowed. Her hands were clasped together, frantically moving up and down as if she meant to atone for the great sin of bumping into him.

“I’m terribly sorry, I really am, I’m just in a great hurry! If I don’t share these by evening, I’ll lose my job.” She went on, dropping to her knees.

An assortment of purple colored fliers had spread all around, some being carried around by the wind while the majority were scattered on the ground surrounding the two.

Looking down at her, an odd sense of familiarity rushed over him. A curtain of ruffled hair was obscuring her features, making it impossible for him to take a proper look at her face, yet he could swear this wasn’t his first time meeting with her.

Though she was the one who bumped into him, Takasugi ended up lowering himself beside her, using the fliers as an excuse to sate his curiosity. He picked the ones that were over to his side, stacking them up in a pile.

“Here.”

“Thank you so much! Once again I’m terribly sorry and, uh, please, feel free to keep one of these for a free drink!” The woman said, handing one of the fliers back to him.

The second her fingers touched his, it was as if time froze around them, or rather, as if time sent him to a bygone era, one that lived in his memories alone.

“Gotcha!” The girl said, waving his stolen headband before his eyes.

In a rapid dash, she moved out of his sight, her chuckle echoing through the endless rows of trees. She was always like that, seemingly doing everything and anything in her power to inconvenience him. His expressions were too funny; that was her reasoning and perhaps she was right. There was no malice in his glares, no real animosity that was meant for her. Though he never admitted it, the little games she put up were quite entertaining for him too.

Even when he finally caught up to her, his arms caging her body in a tight embrace, she never stopped laughing, not even for a second. He couldn’t remember what he was trying to do. Retrieve the headband? Hold her close? Time had hazed his memory in a mist, yet the one thing he was able to remember was her face. The eyes he adored staring into; the lips he adored kissing; the hair he adored caressing; everything that defined her.

Suddenly, she stopped putting up a fight, her limbs dropping on top of his arms as she turned around to face him.

“How do I look?” She asked with a smug smile, showing off the headband that was wrapped around her forehead.

Stunning as always, he thought.

“You look like you’ll never grow up.” He muttered in a stern tone. After all, his thoughts rarely matched his words when she was involved, a fact he came to terribly regret.

This face… could it be her?

He was now standing in the middle of the battlefield, the vile stench of blood and smoke numbing his senses as he moved through the countless corpses and rubble. Nothing but pain and anguish remained in the once lively village. Everything was reduced to ashes thanks to Amanto technology.

Following the explosion, a constant ringing vibrated in his ears, only falling second to the cries of a child and the shrieks of an elderly woman. No one was able to predict such calamity, not his men and certainly not him.

With each step Takasugi took, the lump in his throat increased in size, a foolish hope being the one thing that kept his legs moving forward. He’d barely realized what had just happened, barely aware of what he was searching for until his steps came to a halt. A white headband -one identical to the one he was sporting- was flowing with the wind between the rubble, confirming his worst fears at once.

Before he knew it, he was on his knees, cradling your ashen face between his fingers. Your eyes were semi-closed, blood running from the corners of your mouth. He looked at you, unable to grasp the reality that lied before him, the reality that he was about to lose you.

“Sh-Shinsuke.” A cough cut his name in half. “You came.” A frail attempt at a smile only worsened things for you, blood spewing onto his jacket.

“As I thought, it always looked best on you-” You said, your fingers trailing all the way up to his face before slowly dropping to your side.

“What are you talking about?” He failed to hide his fury. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to him and certainly not to you.

“Y/N.” He spoke your name in a softer tone, but you didn’t reply.

“Y/N!” He called out again, hoping that his voice had simply gone unregistered amidst the chaos surrounding him.

“Oi, Y/N! Pull yourself together!”

By the third time, he was yelling at you, violently shaking your body to no avail.

Refusing to give up, Takasugi took your hand in his, desperately trying to get a hold of you. He squeezed at it harder and harder, as if he could keep you to life with sheer strength alone, but it was already too late. No pulse, no nothing. You were just gone.

“Takasugi, we need to go! There might be more coming, get out of there!” Even Katsura’s voice wasn’t enough to snap him out of it.

For a mere second, he wished to quit. He had seen enough carnage for a lifetime and he was tired. What were they fighting for? What was it all for if they couldn’t even protect a minuscule mountain village? How could they possibly save an entire country or, hell, even the whole world? The thought sickened him. At the moment, all he wanted to do was lie next to you, beg you to take him to wherever it was you were going.

No matter how much he wanted to do just that, Takasugi realized that such a luxury was one he could never afford. Not when so many people depended on him, not when he knew what giving up meant. No matter what, he had to keep going, with or without you. This was unfair. So unfair.

He leaned closer, his fingers slightly trembling as he pulled the headband off your forehead, replacing it with the cleaner one he was wearing. His words from that day held a different meaning now that he came to realize; you were never going to grow up. The life he dreamed with you was extinguished in a flash.

Bringing a hand to your chin, he rubbed at your skin carefully, trying his best to remove the blood from your face. You nearly looked as if you were sleeping, he thought to himself, a heartbreaking thought that only fueled the tears in his eyes.

Katsura’s yells were clearer now, meaning that he was approaching, but Takasugi was not done. He had to do this. Even when he was unable to share his true feelings with you, he needed to make sure that he could do this one thing properly, that he could give you the goodbye you deserved.

His palm made its way onto your forehead, slightly lingering before dropping above your eyes, shutting them once and for all. He glanced down at his other hand, taking a good look at the headband he retrieved. Its edges were painted in a bright scarlet color, blood having seeped through the fabric, your blood. Without thinking twice, Takasugi clenched his fist around the material, shoving it in his pocket. This was the only keepsake he could have of you, a reminder and proof of your existence.

With a sigh, he laid your body back down onto the ground, thinking that this was the last moment you shared.

Yet…could it be that it wasn’t? Could it be that this blood was fake? Could it be that those tears were fake? Could it be that the person whose eyes he closed were never yours? Could it be that the woman in front of him was, as a matter of fact, you?

By the time Takasugi snapped back to reality, the pink color of your kimono had nearly faded into the distance, leaving him utterly confused as to what he’d just experienced. He could call you out, run after you, yet looking at the flier in his hand, he got a better idea.

“Snack Smile bar? What a lackluster name.” He muttered, crumbling the paper in his fist.

“Come in, come in! Heaven’s sigh’s girls will leave you sighing!”

“Boss, how about a drink with us? We promise to take good care of you.”

“Would you like a nurse to check on your vitals or an officer to apprehend you? Whatever your fantasy, we can grant it!”

The empty promises of the hostesses served as ambient sound to Takasugi’s ears while he strolled through Kabukicho. With his hat lowered before his eyes, he attempted to blend in with the crowd, stealing a glance at the signs of the buildings as he passed them by. Many had the word bar or snack in their name, yet no writing matched the one in his flier.

If he was being honest with himself, he was unsure of what he was trying to do. Obviously, he was looking for you, but what good could possibly come out of it? Perhaps your encounter had been brief, giving you no time to realize who it was, but even so, there was no way you were unable to recognize him. Either you played dumb for whatever reason he failed to pinpoint, or he was once again chasing after the ghosts of his past. Whatever the case was, he needed an answer.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally found himself outside Snack Smile. A girl in a peachy kimono was standing by the door, calling out to any passerby who seemed interested enough to take a peek at the place. Her smile was bright, though it lacked verity. If anything, it looked as if she was trying to keep people away, rather than invite them in.

“My, are you new here? I don’t think we’ve seen your face before, dear customer.” She directed him with a sweet tone. “Please come in and we’ll make sure to turn that frown upside down!”

What am I even doing here, Takasugi pondered to himself. This was obviously a mistake.

Reluctantly, he brought two fingers to his hat, tipping it forward as a means of agreement. If anything, he was so close to his goal that he might as well walk the walk. The girl caught onto his gesture, beckoning for him to follow her to the entrance.

Unlike the rest of his subordinates and his comrades from the war, Takasugi wasn’t overly fond of such places. His visits to Yoshiwara or cabaret bars were numbered, mostly limited to the carefully timed opportunities he created to strike beneficial business deals. There were only so many men who could resist the cheap thrills a woman offered. Combine that with alcohol and you earned yourself an agreeable ally.

To be fair, Takasugi preferred his partners sober enough, turning to such tactics only when the occasion demanded it. On the contrary, when it came down to him personally, well, he found no reason to be visiting such places all by himself. He spared no time to play around with ignorant little girls, though somehow, he had now managed to surround himself with a dozen of them.

Tall, short, blonde, brunette, lean and curvy; every type of girl with conventional beauty had gathered up around him, pulling him towards an empty booth. They were so eager to tend to his whims, oblivious to the fact that he was feeling rather uncomfortable with their touch-y and intrusive behavior. They had completely misread his intentions, but then again, who visits hostess bars without indulging?

In an attempt to make him feel more comfortable, a girl grabbed onto the strings of his hat, his hand removing hers in time. It wasn’t as if he could afford to be spotted and arrested here, of all places.

“Master, what will you have?” One of the girls cooed in his ear.

“You are so good looking, won’t you have a drink with us?” The second girl chimed in after his lack of a response.

“What about some Dom Peri? Would that be to your tastes?” Another one followed.

That’s right. If he stood there without even ordering, he’d attract even more attention to himself. Sighing, Takasugi fished the crumbled up paper from inside his pocket, sliding it across the table.

“Oh, you have one of those? Let me show you how our reward system works!” The first girl, a blonde with a dark blue kimono suggested, scooting closer to him.

“Every time you visit our bar, you get a stamp, slowly unlocking milestones with certain rewards. The first one is a free drink of your choice, and then when you reach this one.” She paused, pointing at the middle of the paper. “You get the chance to play Uno with one of our girls, how exciting!”

Is that how hostess bars operate?

“The final reward is a free bottle of our finest Dom Peri, one that isn’t even watered down!”

Takasugi crooked an eyebrow, unable to tell whether this was some sort of deliberate joke or if this was an actual reward system they had set up. Uno nights and watered down bottles of champagne, was this really what Edo had turned into?

“How many visits till that Uno session?”

“Oh, you are interested?” Not in particular. “It’s five visits and you can choose any of the girls to play with. Will you choose me?” The same girl asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

Any girl, huh…

Though he’d been seated for at least five minutes, none of the girls around him, nor the ones that served the customers in the other booths bore any resemblance to you. Could he be mistaken?

The blonde kept pestering him, her one arm locked around his elbow, with her other hand rubbing at his shoulder. His patience was wearing thin, but causing a scene wouldn’t fix anything. After all, she was merely doing her job.

“Sake.” Takasugi said, hoping that her departure could at least get him some room for breathing.

Surely enough, the girl jumped on her feet, the other two maintaining their distance all the while eyeing him.

All of a sudden, the loud thump of a glass breaking forced his attention to shift to the bar. A man with his arms crossed over his chest was barking at a girl, something about salaries and final mistakes. Repeatedly, she bowed her head up and down, her clasped hands moving in sync with the rest of her body. She was frantic, spelling out one ‘sorry’ after the other. Eventually, the man, presumably the owner of this place, raised his hand to dismiss her, stepping away from the scene.

The girl stood in place, only turning around after she was left alone. The second Takasugi got a proper look at her face, the same feeling he’d felt earlier reappeared; the same sensation of having the air sucked out of his lungs was back. It was her, the girl from before, that girl… you.

“What a klutz.” The brunette next to him exclaimed with a scoff.

“I know, right? When will she finally learn? Boss is too lenient with her.” The second brunette sighed.

“I guess what they say is right, the pretty ones sure have it easy.”

“What’s with that girl?” Takasugi inquired.

“What? Her? She came about 5 years ago I think.” The blonde from earlier had returned, setting a tray of glasses and alcohol on top of the table. “She is such a weirdo, other than her appearance there’s not much going on with her. Just because she has a few regulars, she thinks she is someone, but truth is, she’s just a lost cause. A nobody.”

She poured a drink for Takasugi, then handed the rest of the glasses to the other girls. Bringing it to her lips, she downed it in one go.

“You know, there is something seriously wrong with her.”

Takasugi tilted his head towards the brunette to his left. It looked like both these girls held some sort of grudge against their coworker and while hearing them badmouth you irked him, he wished to find out why.

“When she first came here, she wouldn’t even give us her name. Claimed she had no recollection of that nor her past, but if you ask me, she is hiding something. Or else she wouldn’t put up with all the names people give her.”

“Aho-chan, Hidoi-chan, Kagome-chan, that’s how she goes by. What a pitiful creature.” The third girl commented, tipping her glass between her fingers.

No name and no background. That certainly was strange, though it would suffice as an explanation. Whatever happened to you back then, the only way for you to be unable to recognize him or seek him out in the first place, would be for your memory to get wiped out. An unlike scenario, but it was what it was.

“Now girls, let’s not bore our customer with such tedious talk. Master, whatever it is that you want, this girl won’t be able to deliver. Me on the other side…” The blonde mewled into his ear, one finger running along the hem of his yukata.

“How much?” Takasugi asked with a forced smile.

“Hmm?”

“How much should I give for you to keep your hands off ?”

The girl was stunned, her confident act dropping at once. Hesitantly, she retrieved her hand, returning to her own seat without any protest.

“That’s so mean, master.” She frowned, an awkward chuckle following her words.

Takasugi reached a hand inside his clothes, dropping a handful of bills on the table. He peered at the expressions of the girls; half disturbed, half excited at the sight of the money. They were all doing their best to keep their distance from him, scared of receiving the same treatment their friend did. Good leeches.

“This should be more than enough to cover your entire shifts. Leave.” Takasugi dismissed them.

Obeying, the three of them reached out to the table, each gathering their share before walking away.

“Not you.” He nodded at the blonde with his glass.

“Oh? Have you changed your mind, mas-”

“Add four more stamps to this, if you wish for a bonus.” He said, pushing the flier in her direction.

“But-

“This isn’t a request.” He cut her off, deliberately glancing down at the sword around his waist.

The girl slid a hand inside her pouch, pulling a red stamp out. Fortunately, she was smart enough to understand that he wasn't in the mood for playing around.

A game of uno wasn’t much of a reward, but adding you to the equation, he was left with no choice. If his theory was correct, then by his next visit, all the pieces to the puzzle would come together, or so he hoped.

“Please come again.” She muttered with next to zero enthusiasm, leaving his sight along with her bonus.

At last, silence.

For the rest of the night, Takasugi remained in the booth all by himself. A couple of girls attempted to approach him, though his previous companions managed to spread the word in time. ‘He is dangerous, he is crazy, he is… boring.’ He didn’t need to hear them to imagine the kind of things they were whispering to each other’s ears. After all, he was no stranger to such unimaginative discrimination.

A long while passed, and soon the only ones in the bar were him and a couple of merchants in the far back. Despite having consumed far more alcohol than the free drink he had been promised, he was feeling quite sober, his mind focused solely on you.

Following the accident you caused, your boss assigned you to a new post, forcing you to be on the move between the bar and the storage room. Each time you entered with a new crate, your expression seemed wearier than before, your legs on the verge of giving out. Judging from past experiences, lifting weights was never your forte.

Takasugi smiled right before his lips touched the glass. Some things never change.

By the time he finished his final drink, the bar had been completely emptied out, giving him the perfect opportunity to act out. He fixed his hat and clothes, propping his arm onto the hilt of his sword while he sluggishly made his way out of the store. He had no clue where said storage room was, but the probability of it being just past the back alley was pretty high.

It was dark and he couldn’t see much, the distant neon lights being the sole source of light. He could only stumble around, until his foot hit a crate, sending it flying towards a brick wall. The impact was followed by a shriek, one loud enough to obscure every and any sound that came from the bustling city.

Realizing what happened, Takasugi stepped in, his hands reaching out just in time to capture the falling champagne bottles from your hands.

“Thank you so much!" The voice exclaimed, belonging to none other than you.

If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have tripped in the first place.

Picking up on some of the bottles, he did his best to share the burden equally between the two of you. They were quite heavy, he realized, three of them being enough to weigh him down. There was no way you could manage such a task all by yourself.

On the way to the front door, you kept asking him to let go, assuring him that he’d already done enough, but he was having none of it. He even assisted you with putting them back on the shelves, ignoring your pleas to let go. He wasn't helping you for the sake of helping you; he just couldn't stand the sound of another glass shattering. Or at least, that’s how he justified his actions.

After everything was in place and your duty was fulfilled, Takasugi excused himself, seeing no more reason to stick around. Having a conversation without getting the chance to rationalize this absurdity would not end well.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Your voice made him freeze in his stead.

“You remember?”

“Of course I do!” He turned around, his eye searching for yours in the darkness.

“I’m so sorry for bumping into you earlier and running away like this.” He felt his own heart sinking, the glimmer of hope disappearing as fast as it appeared.

Even if it was dark, your face was perfectly visible to him. Everything appeared to be the same as he remembered, as if not even a day had gone by since he last saw you. Everything but your eyes, that was. You used to look at him with such endearment and affection, such that was enough to thaw his icy exterior without any effort, but now that's gone. You bore the eyes of a stranger looking at another stranger.

“Are you from around here? What’s your name?”

“Shinsuke.”

“Shinsuke huh… that’s such a nice name. Don’t think I’ve met anyone who goes by that before.”

“I… see.” Hearing his name coming out of his lips stirred something within him. He had missed that sound more than he could ever admit.

“What brings you here, Shinsuke-san?”

“I was looking for someone. A woman.” He specified.

“Hm? Have you come here for one of our girls? Who is it?”

“Y/N.” It had been so long since he’d last called your name out, especially to your face. Part of him hoped that hearing it would have the same effect for you as it did for him.

“Y/N… I don’t think there is anyone working for us with such a name. Could it be that she gave you a stage name or nickname?”

He was unsure of what to answer. Such a charade was ridiculous.

“I guess the person I’m looking for doesn’t exist anymore.” Takasugi mumbled, turning his back on you. There was no point in trying. The woman he once loved was gone. It was about time he accepted that.

As he was about to leave, his sleeve getting tugged downwards caught his attention. A pair of delicate fingers were holding onto it, with another pair of pleading orbs staring right into his.

“Some girls do that. They give fake names because the owners don’t allow us to give our real names to clients. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by that. You said her name was Y/N, right? I’ll try asking around to see what I can find.”

“There’s no need for that.” He attempted to leave, yet your clutching kept him in place.

“I want to help! Compensation for crashing into you and uh… a thank you for your assistance.”

Takasugi placed his hand on top of yours, briefly stuttering at the softness of your knuckles before he pulled your fingers off his sleeve. Your persistence was making things harder for him, another leftover trait of your past self. This wasn’t you, he reminded himself. A person with no memories was not themselves anymore. This wasn’t you, this wasn’t you, this wasn’t—

“Come again soon, Shinsuke-san!”

Even when his steps were taking him away from you, Takasugi realized that sooner than later they’d be bringing him back.

“Uno!” You cheerfully proclaimed, slamming a wild draw four card on top of the pile.

Takasugi shook his head as he scattered his cards across the table, an assortment of green and yellow clashing with the dark cedar. This was the fifth round you’d won in a row and although he didn’t want to admit defeat, perhaps going for so long without playing the game had turned him rusty. He used to beat you with such ease back in the day that he wasn’t prepared to face any sort of resistance. Could it be that he was more preoccupied with figuring out what had happened, or did your amnesia come with a streak of luck?

“Again.” With gritted teeth, Takasugi shuffled and stacked the cards once more. He wasn’t intending to end this on a loss. Besides, the reward didn’t specify how many rounds of Uno he could play.

Dealing seven cards to each of you, he took his time to study your expression. Your eyes darted between your hands, a loose smile hanging upon your lips that he couldn’t decode. Was it possible that you had another draw four? Nah, that couldn’t be it right? Unless you cheated, there was no such way.

Before you started the round, you reached a hand to the sake bottle, pouring the two of you another set of drinks whilst holding onto the cards with the other. Unsurprisingly enough, you ended up spilling more alcohol outside rather than inside the glasses, making a mess out of the table. What a lousy hostess.

As he was about to take a sip, your chuckle forced him to turn around.

“Is this your first time playing, Shinsuke-san? You’re pretty awful at this.” You exclaimed in a gleeful tone, bringing the glass to your lips.

“Should hostesses be looking down on their customers ?” He argued, shifting through the cards in his hand. A wild card and a reverse card, not bad at all.

“Should customers be threatening hostesses with swords?”

Unaware of his action, Takasugi tightened his grip around the glass.

Up to that point, your behavior had been nothing out of the ordinary. Unlike the other girls who kept their distance from his table, you didn’t seem particularly wary of him. Considering your relationship with your coworkers, he had assumed that the rumor hadn’t reached your ears, but apparently he was wrong.

“Don’t worry about it. Kasumi-chan has a tendency of overreacting.” You assured, revealing the first card of the deck; eight red. “Hmm.” You played a two.

“What if she wasn’t?” He teased, dropping a four.

“Well…” You contemplated, carefully browsing through your hand. “You wouldn’t hurt her, would you?”

Green four.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t?"

“You helped me out yesterday. Even if you are a Joui or whatever, unless you had good intentions, you wouldn’t have bothered.”

Takasugi shrugged, dropping a 6.

“Besides…” He looked up at you, finding a slight smile tremble upon your lips. “You must have really wanted to play uno with me, huh?”

So she’d heard the full story. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have acted on such impulse, but then again why did that girl feel entitled to interfere with his personal affairs? Perhaps he should have dropped more than empty threats on her.

Returning his attention to the game, Takasugi tried to keep his cool, yet his grimace gave out how he really felt. With his lips curling into a scowl, he threw more alcohol down his throat, pushing the glass back to your side. This wasn’t the way he pictured this night going.

While he was caught up in his own thoughts, you acted upon your turn, dropping two green cards onto the pile.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?�� He growled, forcefully grabbing you by the wrist the second you played them.

You blinked, looking at him with confusion.

“Skip… card?” Your gaze fell onto the fallen cards below; a green skip and a green seven.

Oh.

In an attempt to save face, Takasugi released his grip, wondering how many more hits his pride could suffer before he snapped. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that your presence was the cause of jumpiness, but that couldn't be the case, right? A mere hostess, even if such was you, wasn't enough to make him nervous.

For the next 5 minutes or so, you kept on throwing cards one after the other in complete silence, the voices of the rest of the crowd filling in the gaps. To focus on winning or to focus on extracting information; Takasugi felt himself waver between the two choices. Whether he admitted it or not, your reappearance had left him in a distressed state that he absolutely detested.

"So are you?" You broke through the quiet, changing the color to yellow with a five.

"Hm?" Takasugi inquired, switching the color back to blue with a wild card.

"A Joui."

"What if I am? Will you report me?" He smirked.

"Should I?" You mused, browsing your hand before pulling a card from the deck, one you ended up not playing.

He shrugged, throwing a blue six. "It doesn’t matter if you do. I don’t intend to switch lanes now."

"Then… What is it that you intend to do?"

"Bring about an end to all this." He nonchalantly admitted, weighing your reaction.

He expected to find at least a glimpse of surprise or a hint of recognition, yet he spotted neither. Not only did he fail to reignite your memory, but it also looked as if you were completely unfazed by what he’d said.

"Sounds ominous." You said, at last.

"What about you?"

"Am I a Joui?" You pondered as you pulled another card. "I doubt it, though I can’t be too sure." Blue eight.

Takasugi raised an eyebrow, eager to hear the rest of the story. Finally, he’d brought you exactly where he wanted you to be.

"There was an accident many years ago. At least that’s what the people who found me said. In reality, I can’t remember anything. The accident, that place, the people I used to know, the girl I used to be… it’s all blank. Each time I try to recall such details, my head begins to tick like a time bomb." You admitted, going through your cards.

"It’s funny though. I could be someone’s daughter, someone’s friend, or someone’s lover and I wouldn’t even know about it."

There was sorrow in the way you spoke, a faint smile appearing and the disappearing in an instant. To have all the answers to your questions, Takasugi felt great guilt plaguing him. Your loss had always been one of the many he was responsible for, another regret to add onto the over-increasing burden of his soul. If he'd gotten there faster, if he’d gotten word of the attack before it happened, if, if, if…

He thought there was no way to change the past, but now that he saw the very same past unraveling before his eye, he was uncertain of what he was supposed to do. Perhaps it was better that you didn’t remember him. What one could consider a curse was in reality a blessing in disguise. There was no need for you to remember what was taken from you, what was lost because of him, or even him. Yes, it was better like this.

Reaching for his empty glass, he was quick to pour himself another drink, only to realize that the bottle was just as empty. The irony, he thought to himself, pushing it aside. No matter how much he tried to fill his own void, it would always come down to this, he realized.

"What about your name?" Takasugi sighed, drawing a card. Had he played his reverse card, then the game would have ended right then and there, but he didn’t mean to do that just yet. Not when you have yet to reveal all your cards for him to see.

Once his turn was over, you pulled two cards from the deck, glancing at your hand and then the eight he had previously dropped.

"I don’t remember that either. Everyone here gives me a different name, though most of them are pretty horrible." You said, earning a sympathetic nod from him.

"Oh, I didn’t mean to complain. It’s fine, really, I don’t mind at all. Feel free to call me however you want to."

"How about Y/N?" He suggested in a rather affectionate tone.

"Isn’t that the name of the girl you are looking for?"

"Didn’t you hear me?" He inquired, flicking the remaining two cards between his fingers. "That girl exists no longer."

"Y/N… it does have a nice ring." You beamed with excitement. "But are you sure it’s fine?"

"A pitiful hostess with no memories or name, and a ghost who only exists in memory. You might as well claim that name, she won't be asking back for it."

After all, it’s yours.

"Y/N." You said in a quiet tone. "Y/N," you said more confidently.

"It suits you." Takasugi nodded in acknowledgement, a hint of a smile spreading across his features. At least now he wasn’t the only one holding onto this name.

Peering at his cards one final time, he let the reverse one drop onto the center of the table. There was no point in stalling his victory any further, not when the outcome was already set.

"Uno."

"You win."

"Not bad for a first timer." He smirked.

Admittedly, Takasugi enjoyed his reward much more than he thought he would. Not once in a million years would he consider that he’d get the chance to glance at your smile or hear your voice ever again, let alone play a game of cards at a crappy bar in Kabukicho. It all felt so surreal, but for now, there was no doubt. It was really you.

"Another round?" You asked, shuffling the cards between your fingers.

At that moment, Takasugi stood up, attaching his sword back to his hip. It was time to go. Searching through his yukata, he fished a couple of bills out, sliding them towards your side.

"I’m afraid it’s time for me to make an exit."

"Shinsuke-san." You hesitated, your eyes darting between the table and his own.

"I enjoyed our game."

He nodded, attempting to make his way out when you stopped him again.

"Will you be coming again?"

It was his time to consider things. Perhaps other than your memory, you weren’t all that different, yet the same couldn’t be said about him. He wasn’t the same boy you fell in love with over ten years ago, the one who could afford to fool around and play uno with you as if he had no care in the world. What was left of him could barely make up for the person he used to be; scattered pieces of a vengeful and hollow beast pieced together into who he was today. Could such a man even dream of reconciling with his past?

Takasugi had no answer for that. At least not right now, when your eyes were pleading him to stay. He wanted to see you again, yet he doubted whether he should. For the first time in a while, his selfish desires were standing in his way, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Without saying a word, he waltzed towards the door, wishing that the watchful gaze of the stars would prevent him from repeating any past mistakes, at least for the night.

The following days found Takasugi spiraling through an endless abyss of question marks, the weight of his choice following him throughout his affairs to the point where he could not concentrate on anything else.

If he told you all about your shared past and who you really were, that smile you greeted him with would be erased in an instant. The pain you’d escaped would cling onto you like it did to him, the clutches of a beast he could never escape. To subject you to such suffering, to bring such a future to you… how could he ever do that?

On the other hand, knowing that to you he was no more than a mere stranger, that all those memories you created together had scattered through the wind, Takasugi felt his heart aching. Even if it was selfish, he couldn’t help himself from showing up before you, day after day, hoping that somehow everything would get solved on its own. That he’d get to hold your hand and kiss your lips once more, just once, even if there was no tomorrow for him.

Perhaps that’s what it meant to love someone to death. As long as you are able to make a step towards them, as long as your hand can reach out, then nothing can stand in the way, not even death.

With his mind set on vengeance and his heart on you, the thin line between right and wrong became even thinner. He was more perplexed than he’d ever been, his inner conflict clouding more than just his thoughts. The sleepless nights he used to spend by himself in the comfort of his room had lessened, finding him among bottles of sake and the very same carefree people he loathed. Even when he couldn’t decide on what to do, he was adamant regarding his visits to Snack Smile, as if all the answers were hidden behind those eyes of yours.

Soon enough, the flier in his hands approached the dreaded tenth mark milestone. With each visit granting him another stamp, Takasugi caught himself counting the days down to his final reward. There was no point in going through all this trouble for a cheap bottle of champagne, he was well aware of that. But, earning himself such a trophy was far from being his actual reason. In reality, the flier served as some sort of countdown, putting a number to the days you had left. After all, he’d finally made up his mind; the day he received his final mark, would be the day he’d say goodbye to you, once and for all.

And so, with your days numbered, there was a certain bitter aftertaste that accompanied both his arrival and his departure, the heavy atmosphere that lingered feeling heavier than before. He’d already lost you once. This should have been easier, but it wasn’t. The end he sought after was sure to leave his tainted soul with yet another scar. Was that what it meant to do the right thing? He wouldn’t know.

By the end of the week, he’d visited your bar five times. A total of eight marks filled the boxes of the flier, making him wish that he hadn’t threatened that girl to speed things up in the first place. He only needed two more stamps to end things properly with you, yet as he marched his way towards his sixth visit, he started to get cold feet.

Standing outside the bar at the crack of dawn, he wondered what the hell he was doing there. For once, there was no way the bar was open at such an early hour. He was too late, or too early, depending on how one looked at it. But even if it wasn’t, what was he supposed to say? Why would the goodbye of a stranger be of any importance to you?

Being in such deep thought, he barely noticed your fatigued form coming out of the bar, with a pair of garbage bags dangling between your hands.

"Shinsuke-san? What are you doing here?" Your sleepy eyes came to life upon seeing his, your expression lighting up your entire face.

"Just passing by." He shrugged, feeling the strain in his throat as he spoke.

You walked past him, disposing of the bags as quickly as possible.

"We are closed for business, but… would you like to come in?" You suggested, pointing at the door with your thumb.

"I’m good." He shook his head.

"You came all this way, it’d be a shame to go without having a drink at the very least."

Unable to come up with another excuse, Takasugi glanced at the sky and then at you. The first morning rays poured over you like a halo, dousing your figure in a warm light. Even when your eyes were plagued with dark circles, you appeared more beautiful than ever.

"I won’t take no for an answer. If you don’t come in, I’m reporting you." A chuckle broke through your threat, your head tilting to the side. "Just one drink. It’s on me, okay?"

How could he possibly say no when you put it like that? The moment Takasugi sighed, you both knew what his answer was. So much for his unyielding resolve.

Inside the bar, empty chairs were flipped on top of empty tables, the faint smell of alcohol and smoke having yet to dissipate. He followed you to an empty booth, setting his sword to the side before taking a seat. You told him to wait, returning minutes later with your drinks. If sake wasn’t his preferred choice, he would have thought that you were a cheapskate who couldn’t afford anything else. At least you didn’t seem to be one of those pushy Dom Peri girls.

"As expected, sake tastes best with good company." You exclaimed, drinking your first shot.

He smiled, following suit.

"I bet you have lots of good company to drink with."

"No one as interesting as an Uno loving samurai."

"Or a clumsy hostess with no recollection of the past." A chuckle followed his comment, the sound of your laughter echoing through the empty space.

"Y/N. What made you choose this path for yourself?"

"Hmm…" You pondered out loud, pouring the two of you some more alcohol. "Just like you said, I’m clumsy and have no recollection of my past. What could someone like me do to survive? Serving drinks and chatting with people is something anyone can do, me included."

"Do you like it here?"

You took your time before answering, glancing at him, your glass, the bottle, the table, the entrance, and then again from the top. Whatever answer you were planning on giving, it didn’t matter. After all, your reaction said enough.

"It’s okay. The pay isn’t bad and the girls are nice to me. Our boss is quite forgiving of my mistakes too, I manage just fine."

No, you don’t. If that was the case, you wouldn’t be forced to clean up their mess by yourself, all alone and exhausted.

Rather than argue back, Takasugi pressed his glass tight against his lips. He’d hoped that at least he’d leave you to a better fate than the one that awaited you with him.

Some time passed with the two of you drinking through the contents of the bottle together in silence, neither being too sure on how to proceed.

"There’s something I haven’t told you."

He raised an eyebrow, letting go of his glass for a moment.

"I asked around for the girl, the real Y/N."

Takasugi inhaled deeply before exhaling, his fingers clenching into a fist against the hard wood.

"There is no real or fake Y/N for you to find. What remains is only you. You are Y/N."

"But-"

He dropped his hand onto the table, the thump cutting through your words.

More silence.

"What was she like?" You had no intention of giving up. Unless he gave you some answers, you would keep on asking him.

Sighing, he reached for the bottle himself, giving you both a refill.

"A nuisance."

"A nuisance?" You asked, a hearty laugh evading your lips.

What was so funny about it?

"No one starts with a person’s negative traits unless it’s someone they care deeply for. You must’ve really loved Y/N, Shinsuke-san."

He looked up at you, at the eyes he so adoringly used to look at. Time may have erased your memory, yet it never managed to extinguish the love he held for you. For a second, he wished that you could share that sentiment, that his stare could somehow pour some of that emotion back into you. He didn’t want to be alone in this, not anymore.

"I’m sorry that I couldn’t find her for you." You sincerely said. "I was hoping you’d be leaving here with a smile."

Takasugi pulled his gaze away from yours, toying with the empty glass between his fingers. It looked like that goodbye had come up sooner than he’d anticipated.

"Then drink with me today. Until my own memory gets hazy, until I manage to forget, drink with me. Ignorance comes with bliss."

Slowly, you nodded at him with hesitation. If you could peer into his thoughts, you’d be able to see that such a thing could never happen. Even if all was lost, he could never forget nor forsake you. No amount of alcohol was capable of bringing him such deliverance. As long as he lived, he’d hold onto these memories like a martyr, making sure that there was at least one of you that remembered. After all, he was prepared to carry such a heavy cross the second he walked into that bar.

Just like Takasugi suggested, the two of you finished the first bottle of sake together, followed by another and then another. Your hand began to tremble halfway through, liquor spilling onto the table and the glasses. He did his best to finish his drinks before you finished yours, making sure that he was the one to drink the majority of the content. Drunk and exhausted was not an ideal state for you to be in.

Still, he forgot to take into consideration the fact that you’d been working all night long, most likely having finished many more bottles with other clients. It didn’t take long for you to collapse. The sun had fully come out now, bathing your skin in a lovely and vibrant light as you rested on top of the table. Your palms had turned into a makeshift pillow, with your cheek finding comfort within. The sound of your breathing befell the room like a quiet lullaby, your chest moving up and down in sync with it.

Takasugi kept drinking by himself, catching you squinting and quietly grunting from time to time. You were mumbling something incoherent that he failed to pick up on, yet once he brought his hand before your eyes, you went quiet. A smile spread across your lips, with a delighted sigh following right after. Takasugi muffled a giggle, propping his elbow onto the table so that he could keep on shielding you from the light with his body.

Unable to help it, he traced the outline of your cheek with the back of his finger, tugging a couple of loose strands behind your ear. You looked so peaceful, he thought as he dragged his index across your features. The last time he’d looked at you like this, he was the one to shut your eyes, unaware of the fact that you’d been fighting your way back to him.

He brought his finger down to your nose and then to your lips, ghosting over them in a light motion. You talked back at him so many times with this mouth of yours, bringing him headache more times than he could count.

Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now, he pondered, dragging your bottom lip downwards. Such a lousy hostess that can’t even handle her liquor, falling asleep before a man whom she barely even knows. What a pathetic sight.

So very... pathetic.

Before he even knew it, his lips met with yours, a feeling of utter bliss taking over him at last. Right or wrong, who was he to differentiate the two. In that final moment with you, nothing else mattered. He selfishly claimed this one final memory for himself, hoping it'd be enough to last him a lifetime.

I won’t take my chances with you anymore. This time… be happy. Be happy and never look back, not at your past and certainly not at me. If we ever meet again… No. Even if we meet again in this or our next life, walk past me as if we were strangers. Goodbye, Y/N.

And just like that, his ghost hunt came to an end.

By the time Takasugi reached the docks, the streets of Edo were bustling with the sounds of people. Some going to work, others returning, and then those who simply strolled around. Even more so than before, he felt like a fish out of water, unable to truly fit within the crowd. It was as if he was returning from a great battle, one that he'd inevitably lost.

Silently, he slipped back inside his ship, a couple of members from his faction bidding him 'good morning'. He nodded them off, unwilling to engage in any small talk. Such trivialities seemed rather pointless at the moment.

Just before he returned to his room, Takasugi made a stop by one of the common rooms, finding Matako and Takechi conversing, or rather arguing with one another as per usual. The two went quiet at his entrance, letting him say what he had to say without any disturbances.

Once that was out of the way, he was finally able to rest. Or at least that was his plan. He removed his bandages, neatly stacking them upon his nightstand. Bringing his palm above his destroyed eye, he traced his skin all the way to his lips, finding himself terribly missing your warmth. With his wish granted, he felt no better than he did before. If anything, water had managed to seep through the cracks of his void, threatening to drown him along with what was left of him.

Hoping for a moment of repose, Takasugi leaned back against the covers of his futon, yet such moment never came. Perhaps the daylight was too strong or his thought were simply too loud. Either way, he couldn't tell.

Giving up on that plan of his, he got up, the shamisen in the corner of the room catching his eye. Maybe if he could at least counter these thoughts with something louder, he could find some solace.

Time went by swiftly, with the light burning brighter and then fading into the backdrop. A dejected melody accompanied his equally dejected musings, with his fingers aimlessly holding onto the bachi. What his words could not speak, his music transmitted perfectly. A requiem of despair.

"Shinsuke, what's all this about?" The voice of a certain green haired samurai cut through his tune, followed by the thump of the door. "Matako told me we are leaving tomorrow, is that true?”

“What if it is.” Takasugi responded, refusing to look his way.

“I thought we’d be staying until the end of the month.”

“Something came up.”

“And that is?”

There was nothing for him to say to that. Whether they stayed in Edo or not, it didn't make a difference. He'd finally cut all loose threads, no point hanging around this hell hole of a city.

Bansai moved across the room, his steps taking him to the window where Takasugi was seated. Quietly, he observed him, listening to his song as if he meant to nitpick his intentions by the mere sound of it. He folded his hands over his chest, resting against the opposite side of the frame, with his head lightly moving along to the rhythm.

"Your tempo has changed, I daresay."

Most probably for the worse, Takasugi thought to himself.

“I have a gift for you.”

Holding onto the instrument with his legs, Takasugi reached a hand in his yukata, revealing the purple flyer. Nine marks stained its surface, only one requirement away from the "grand prize". He'd held onto this thing for days, but now he found no use for it. Disposing it while he could, was the only sensible choice.

“I’m not sure I’m following, Shinsuke.” Bansai mumbled, flipping the pamphlet between his fingers.

“There's no need to. Just accept the gift.” Takasugi said, his attention shifting back to the shamisen.

“This is very unlike you, I daresay.“

With the music picking up once again, Bansai moved outside of the room, taking his so called gift with him.

There was no telling how much time had passed, the never-ending melody stubbornly persisting. Takasugi felt numb, each of his thoughts melting away underneath his fingertips. By now, he should have met with you. Would you be disappointed that Bansai showed up instead of him? That was unlikely. Who'd be distressed over a stranger?

That's right. It didn't matter anymore. He'd given up on you, he had no right contemplating over such things. It was over. It really was.

“You’re back early.” His voice felt raspier after going for so long without speaking a word.

“I met with the girl.” Bansai admitted, stepping into the room. His tone was near suggestive, hinting that this was far from all he had to say.

Curious to see what comes next, Takasugi let go of the shamisen, an eerie quietness befalling the room as he set it to the side.

“… And?”

“And I must ask, who is that girl, Shinsuke?”

“A good for nothing hostess.” Takasugi sneered.

Bansai sighed, doubting that Takasugi was giving him the full story. More often than not, he was able to read into his thoughts with greater ease than most. Even if he didn't poke his nose into his business, he had no intention to let this one slide, and for once, Takasugi wasn't too appreciative of his friend's feature.

“That good for nothing hostess said I can’t accept it on your stead. You should know better than to give gifts one can't redeem.” He dropped the flyer onto the floor beside him.

“Is that so?" Takasugi inquired with zero interest, merely glancing at it and then looking away.

“There’s more to the story, I daresay." Bansai continued, his fingers browsing through his teal colored coat. "She asked of me to bring this to you. Said she’ll be waiting for you to return it one day.”

Takasugi glanced over at him, his eye widening upon receiving the item from his hands.

“I believe you recognize this. Then, I’ll leave you to it.” Bansai said before finally making his exit.

There was no way... right? This couldn't be it... right?

At the moment, Takasugi struggled to understand the meaning of it, seemingly lost as he studied the material. His fingers went over the fabric with great care, tracing each and every seam as if they were sacred. This was far from being the only one of it's kind, yet there was no room for doubt; this white headband could only be the very same that once belonged to him, the one he'd traded you all those years back.

"Such a foolish woman." He huffed in a low tone, his lips curving into a smile. Even when he'd given you a chance at happiness, you'd chosen to fall back into your own misery. What kind of fool does that?

Yet, such a foolish woman had managed to fool him. He wasn't any better, he realized to his dismay, guilty over the sudden rush of relief. Even by a little, the weight he'd been so adamant to carry by himself had been lifted, with or without his consent. He really thought that he could take it, but there you were again, stirring up trouble from miles apart. To think that he'd fallen for such a nuisance.

Lacing his fingers around the headband, Takasugi leaned back against the window. A sigh evaded his lips once he finally closed his eye.

Perhaps the destruction of the world was always meant to be celebrated with a cheap bottle of champagne.

A/N: Originally I planned to end it at this, but then I realized that the ending might be a bit unclear, so I'll add myself a mini QnA to explain certain things!

Q1: Did she know who he was all along?

A1: Nope. In reality she didn't reveal the whole truth to him. She had memories of a man and their times together, but she couldn't remember who that was or even his name. After she met Takasugi again, all those missing pieces came together and by the last time he visited her, she knew who he was.

Q2: If she still loves him, then why not tell him?

A2: Though Takasugi hasn't changed that much, she could tell that he had something going on that was bigger than their little love story. She knows him better than most and so she wouldn't want to stand in the way of his path.

Q3: Then why reveal it at the end?

A3: Takasugi may have been strong enough to stay true to his decision of ending things, but she wasn't. When he kissed her, she was able to feel it and when she realized that this was goodbye, she couldn't accept that this was their end. Even if it's harder for them to pine over one another, she hoped that by revealing her cards to him and giving him a place to return to, then one day he will.

Q4: So will he return?

A4: It might take some time, but he definitely will. After all, he has a headband to return and a drink to share.

Q5: Dom Peri is very expensive, why did you call it cheap?

A5: In comparison to his precious memories of her, Dom Peri feels very cheap to Takasugi.

#takasugi shinsuke #takasugi #takasugi gintama #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi x reader #takasugi reader #takasugi angst #takasugi fanfiction #takasugi imagine #takasugi one shot #gintama imagine #gintama fanfiction #gintama oneshot #gintama angst #request

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merlinfic · 2 years ago

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group ask for lost fics #40

Hi y’all! Below are a few lost fics that us mods just can’t seem to find. That being said, we’re hoping that you lovely followers are able to help! If anyone knows any of the fics below please reply below or send in an ask with which anon/user and group ask that the fic corresponds with!

Note: previous group asks and all lost fics!

Anon 1 asked:

Hi, this is a lost fic request. Arthur knows Merlin has magic. Merlin doesn’t know Arthur knows. Merlin gets hurt and is dying in front of Arthur. Arthur commands him to use his magic to heal himself. I think there was a scene where Merlin tells Gaius about it when he and Arthur return to the castle

Anon 2 asked:

Hey I have two requests:

1. There was a fic where Gwen watches Arthur and Merlin have sex in ealdor in the middle of the night, and Morgana fingers her... there's a dialogue that basically goes "Merlin has no idea how many people are in love with him"

2. Definitely a long fic, where arthur finds out about Merlin and morganas magic and they go live with the druids. At the end, Arthur's supposed to take an army and sorta attack that group and mid battle he calls for a special battalion that turns against uthers army, Merlin basically unleashes hell on everyone, and Arthur gets crowned king on the condition that he can't commit treason ever again which he finds funny because he can't exactly commit treason against himself

I read them last year ig ...thanks !!

Anon 3 asked:

Hi, I'm looking for this fic where merlin had to crossdress as a woman and, and it has Arthur and the knights. They are in a village at some point, and I think Arthur and merlin posed as being married

Anon 4 asked:

Hello! Your blog is awesome!

I'm looking for two fic but I'm not sure if they were fics or just promps(is it the right word?)

the first was while /after the lamia episode /accident. I just remember that Arthur was arriving in the castle and the lamia is attacking but the little light orb that saved Arthur before (as merlin drank poison and Arthur wanted to get the flower) arrives and goes into the sword so Arthur could kill it, then the orb shows the way to the other knights and at least to merlin who is hurt. (was a bit angsty)

The second is Arthur gets enhanced to "freal behavior" his behavior is controlled by his primari emotions, so then he is angry he is really really "freal". It happens just after Arthur found out about merlins magic and so his freal behavior is directed on Merlin and the knights want to protect merlin and keep them apart but it just got worse. Arthur is yelling for merlin for example. In the end Merlin goes to Arthur and rather than killing merlin like the knights feared, Arthur cuddles Merlin.

Thanks for trying!

@caffeinatedanxiouscucumber asked:

Hey, hope you're doing well!

I have been trying to find this fic for the past month and can't find it and need your help.

It's a merthur canon au magic reveal fic. Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic and doesn't take it well and Merlin is feeling guilty so he wears cold iron handcuffs to block his magic and writes a letter to Arthur vowing that the magic was only ever meant for Arthur so he won't use it till Arthur tells him to. But since Merlin is magic the iron is killing him. It had a happy ending though!

Thank you!

@emrysmalfoy asked:

Hey, love the blog. Obsessed with your mods. Can you help me find these two fics?

1. I just remember this one scene. The Knights and Arthur are meeting the druids, Merlin 8s obviously with them and then the druids recognise Merlin as their king. Arthur is hella shook. And then something goes wrong and Merlin BAMFs out. And then Gwaine says something like, "this is why the neighborhood kingdoms don't f*ck with the druids anymore, be ause if their sovereign". Arthur is super flustered and Gwaine teases him, indirectly indicating that Arthur had a crush on Merlin.

2. There are these rumours flying around that Merlin is good in bed and somehow the Knights and Arthur wind up on the round table and Arthur brings this up. And the Gwaine heartily agrees and so does Elyan. So when Merlin comes in the room and Arthur asks him about this, Merlin looks at Leon and says something like 'I told you not to tell this to anyone' and then everyone is surprised because Leon slept with Merlin and didn't tell when Arthur asked.

Anon 5 asked:

Hey there! I was wondering if you by any chance have heard of a merthur fic where they start off together but break up due to Uther and later on Merlin gets attacked at night and loses his hearing which Arthur finds out about? I read it years ago but lost it! :(

Anon 6 asked:

Hi!

i was hoping you could help me find a fic

It was canon era - outsider POV I think, and it had Merlin living in a tower and all the citizens are afraid of going up to the tower to give him his meals etc and the newest servant goes in and he sees Arthur there too and realises that Merlin and Arthur are together

thank you

As always, this post will be updated if/when any fics are found!

#other: fic find #other: lost fics #other: group asks for lost fics #mod danielle

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years ago

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Inej Ghafa x fem! Reader - Close Enough

A/n: So.... Ya I this wasn't a request I just really inspired to write about Inej today and yes I did write this all today! Also this fic goes (not full, full on) but more with Inej's struggles with touch with her S/O because I see a whole lot for Kaz (which isn't a bad thing keep writing those fics I enjoy them)! But like zero for Inej! So I made one, I hope ya'll enjoy!

Warnings: The Menagerie, mentions of sexual assault, swearing, mentions of panic attacks and flashbacks, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: You and Inej have been dancing around each both knowing that you like each other, yet Inej struggles with her past when she's around you

(The gif is not mine and I do not own shadow and bone or it's characters!)

Her eyes slide over Y/n's body admiring her beauty and the way her y/h/c locks moved with the wind from the sea.

The ship rocked back and forth and Inej couldn't help but think about the way the L/n girl moved. Although Y/n wasn't silent or fluid with her motions, the girl was still graceful in her own not very refined way.

The way she held herself, the way she walked was all so effortless and bold, nothing like the captain of the very ship who was always so lithe and elegant. Yet Inej couldn't stop thinking or looking at the girl who never stayed silent. Yet Inej would never come close to the white tiger named Y/n, and both already knew that.

The deafening sound of the sea and storm was broken by the only person who could become louder and break an unbreakable silence; Y/n.

Inej could hear her footsteps coming closer and closer. She could hear her breathing even if it wasn't heavy, and most of all she could hear her close-mouthed giggles because if they were open-mouthed it would grab all the Saints in this world's attention.

Listening wasn't an option with Y/n you had to pay attention. Her whole aura demanded it, and Inej was starting to think even the Saints could hear her sometimes because that girl had a power over her no one had ever had she didn't even realize it.

"Hello, Captain!" Y/n sings leaping towards Inej's side eagerly.

Instantly Inej's senses are filled with the white tiger's perfume and it overwhelms her with emotions and memories of her past; her past in the Menagerie.

Intentionally the girl moves closer to Inej when she doesn't say something right away, and she can physically feel the hands ripping at her purple silks trying to place them apart like monsters to get to what was underneath. The kohl was around her eyes again, the bells on her ankles and the painted spots that really made her seem like an animal were on her shoulders.

She could smell the incense in her room, and the gold metal bars on the windows. It was metaphorically a cage but it was also a literal one. Inej wasn't herself anymore she was just a seemingly useless lynx only good for one thing; then she feels a hand creep up and up...

Snapping out of her trance she harshly backs away from L/n but she's still as silent as ever and that alone makes her want to scream out her lungs because she just wants to be heard.

She thought that maybe taking down the Slavers would help her find peace, she thought being away from the barrel and the Menagerie would help her hopefully start over. Really she thought she was over this, the flashbacks, the full-on panic attacks where she can't have anyone touch her for about an hour or more.

In reality, though, all she really wants is to be able to be loud and to be able to touch Y/n romanticly, all she wants is to not feel the dirty hands of the men every time she brushes against her lover.

Inej Ghafa wants to be free of the cage that she thought she had escaped, yet every time she thinks that she's pulled right back in. Clawing at the bars trying to flee yet again.

That was why the captain of the Wraith would not come close enough to the white tiger.

Guilt flash's in Y/n's eyes and she backs away, immediately putting even more space in between the two giving Inej some space to breathe.

"Sorry." The girl whispers backing up even further but never leaving nor taking her y/c/e orbs off of Ghafa.

Inej takes a breath in and she can no longer smell Y/n's perfume and the incense from the Menagerie, but she longs to smell Y/n's scent forever. And Inej is glad that Y/n's skin isn't against her's anymore but inside she's screaming because that's the only thing she wants to feel.

Inej rubs her hands over her eyes feeling so tired of all of this; if she could she would just kiss the tiger on the lips but because of fucking trauma she couldn't.

Another thought that is always at the back of her mind is ever so present at the moment - because what if she never gets to touch Y/n? Why could she touch basically anyone else but her?

"It's not your fault, you know that okay? I just-"

But Y/n being the loud person that she is, she cuts Inej off. "But do you know?"

She snaps her head up meeting the white tiger's eyes that seem to be blazing holes into her.

"Do you know it's not your fault Ghafa?"

Once again her breath is caught in her throat and the captain of the Wraith - the fearsome captain who tames the seas and takes down slavers is rendered speechless in eight words.

"Because even if you do, do you know I don't need you to touch me or even come into a five-meter radius of me?"

"That's not fair to you." She argues.

"I just want you to love me!" Y/n starts raising her voice and tears were in her eyes showing how serious the situation really was.

"You know I can't do that without-"

"For fucks shake Inej! I don't need any of the extra touchings or even getting close to me! I JUST WANT YOUR LOVE! I don't care how you show it! I just want to be yours!"

Y/n's eyes widen and panic impulses through her eyes and for the first time in a long time everything is silent. Even the ocean, even the storm, the wind, Y/n has stopped being loud and the world is awfully quiet like it needs to run after her noise. Her brightness.

Soundless tears drip from both of the girl's eyes as Inej takes a step forward the floorboards of the ship creaking beneath her as she comes closer. Not insanely close, but that wasn't the point.

"Okay." Inej murmurs.

"What?"

"I want to be yours too."

Suddenly Y/n smiles and the world brightens again and the noise of the universe is back and Inej is no longer creaking on the floorboards she's silent again but she's pretty sure she has someone else to teach her how to be loud.

Taking four steps forwards she could probably reach out and grab Y/n's hand if she wanted to, and it wouldn't be unexpected or anything of the sort. It would be on her terms.

Carefully and even a bit terrified Inej reach's her hand out towards Y/n's and she lets them brush together.

As soon as she feels her skin against her's she forgets how to breathe and fireworks must have gone off in her stomach because that's how she was feeling. It was like jumping from rooftop to rooftop without the smoke and grim of Ketterdam, it was like sailing the ocean without the fear of drowning.

Though she quickly pulls away knowing any longer she'll be pulled back into memories of her past again. Disappointment folds her veins and Y/n could obviously tell that it was already wearing her down.

"Little by little Captain! Remember step by step!"

Her voice then takes a more serious but soothing tone.

"Don't push yourself remember what I asked of you? Your love, not your body. We got to four steps today? Well maybe in a month to a year you'll get to five, I don't care! I'll be proud either way! But for right now this is close enough."

Inej grins up at the woman standing before her.

"You're amazing you know that right?"

Y/n simply flicks her hair. "Oh, I know!"

They both laugh and it rings throughout the earth reaching all the way to the Saints and they finally looked down from the heavens to see the two most remarkable girls laughing standing five feet apart holding love for each other that was so powerful they could see it spread.

It was a power they didn't know existed among the humans and they saw its potential to spread everywhere but it stopped at one point.

But that was close enough.

Words 1400

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626

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whitestaghere · 4 years ago

Text

Love finds a way - Edmund Pevensie x reader (one shot)

Thought I'd do a one shot for Edmund. I know its not been that long, but I missed writing again. I hope you all enjoy this! ❤️

Warnings :- none

Fluff 💕

Late. That's what I was. Late.

I was running as fast as my legs could take me. My friends and I had planned a picnic since it was finally the weekend. And today of all days, I just HAD to wake up late.

Finally arriving at the park I bent down hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

Looking around I tried to spot my friends.

"Y/N!! OVER HEREEE!!!" I glanced behind me, to see my friends waving me over.

Jogging upto them I gave them a lazy smile.

"Hey y/n!!" Julie chirped, skipping towards me and pulling me into her embrace.

"Wow... well somebody looks like she ran the Olympics," Kyle laughed. "And look those eye bags."

I rolled my eyes taking a seat next to him, "oh why don't you just shut up." At this he poked my side. "Hey don't snap at me! I was just messing around y/nnn!!" he whined flinging his arm over my shoulder. Lips in a pout. I couldn't help but laugh ruffling his hair.

Julie gave me a soft smile, "had a long night?" I nodded my head in response. She scooted next to me leaning her head on my shoulder, "don't overwork yourself sweetie." By now, the two knew me like an open book. So it was easy for them to know how I feel in just seconds.

Kyle nudged me, "yes, it's the weekend! Lighten up girl! We're free from school work and you, from the student council. Now it's just time for you, me and Julie."

He interlocked hands with mine and Julie. I smiled, "thank you.. you always know how to cheer me up." Honestly I couldn't be more thankful.

Julie pinched my cheek scooting in front of us, "so what do you guys want to do??"

I shrugged. "I'm hungry.." I eyed Kyle who was rubbing his stomach.

Julie furrowed her eyebrows, "Seriously? Kyle, we just got here and the first thing you want to do is eat??

"Well, I don't know Jules!! It's called a picnic for a reason you know? You come and you eat. By the way, where is the food?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You don't just come and eat!! The food will be brought out at the right time!" she snapped back.

This was not anything new of course. It was part of our friendship to argue like this. It was obviously all fun and jokes. I smiled to myself, watching my friends bicker. That is, until someone else caught my attention.

To be more precise, him.

And by him I mean Edmund. I had got to know him through Kyle and ended up catching feelings for the boy.

Kyle on the other hand predicted this would happen and was literally celebrating the day I admitted it. But even though I had met him a couple of times, we had never really had a proper conversation apart from the regular 'hi's and byes'.

Well back to the present situation. He was sitting a little further away from our spot, along with his mother and his siblings; clad in a pale blue shirt and brown jeans. Short brown wavy locks blowing lightly in the wind.

He began to laugh at something someone said and oh God was it adorable. I couldn't take my eyes off him, not that this was anything new. I was so busy admiring him, I hadn't even realised that my friends had stopped their bickering trying to grab my attention.

I only snapped back into my senses the second the the boy locked eyes with mine. He gave me a soft smile waving at me and for some reason I looked away at once, feeling the heat rise upto my cheeks. Facepalm.

Y/n you're supposed to wave back.

"Y/N?" Julie placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Huh, yes? I'm sorry I-I umm" I cleared my throat, "I wasn't following.." My gaze instinctively flickering towards his direction and back at my friends.

This of course not going unnoticed by them. Specially Julie, as she was sitting right infront of me.

Following my gaze she looked back at me with a smirk, "oh I see what's going on here."

Oh no.

Kyle glanced between us tilting his head in confusion, "I- I don't think I'm following.."

Julie chuckled shuffling to the side to give Kyle a proper view, not so subtly pointing towards him. Now realising what was going on, the once confused look was replaced with a sly grin.

He eyed me wiggling his eyebrows, "ooh lala.. I didn't know Edmund was here." The two exchanged mischievous looks. I had mentally prepared myself for the teasing already.

"Oh y/n... this is just ridiculous! Would you just stop staring at him like that and just go talk to him for once?" Julie nudged me.

"She's right you know.. you've been crushing on him for ages now. And all you do is stare. Try to make conversation!" I could only look down in embarrassment, blushing wildly. Normally I'd brush it off, but now that he's right there I just can't.

"Y/N! HE'S LOOKING THIS WAY!" Kyle whisper-yelled waving at them.

Almost immediately my eyes shifted back towards him. He was indeed looking this way, my gaze locking with his. This time mustering all the courage in my body I waved back at him, to which he returned a smile.

"Awww," Kyle poked my cheeks. "Our little y/n is in loooooove!!!"

Julie scooted over next to Kyle grabbing his hands, "don't do that Kyle!! He might get the wrong idea and think you both are a thing." He widened his eyes and dramatically pulled away.

"Oh come on you guys.. don't be silly," I mumbled under my breath but loud enough for them to hear.

"What do you mean don't be silly?" Kyle raised his eyebrows. "You can't fool us, we know you're totally whipped for the boy!"

"What? NO! That's ridiculous.. I-I- he doesn't even know me to begin with."

"Yeah you know that won't work anymore since you said it yourself that you like him.." Kyle grinned.

"And not all love stories begin with two people knowing eachother you know?" My face began to heat up at the mention of 'love'. Julie continued. "Also come on, it's so obvious he likes you too."

"Does not.." I sighed.

"OF COURSE HE DOES! Have you noticed the million times the boy tries to make conversation with you and how he looks at you?! Only for you to be a coward and find someway to avoid him. Don't even make me bring back the school talent show incident."

I shuddered just hearing her say it.

>> Flashback <<

The school's annual talent show.

My friends and I were performing a song, and Julie just had to suggest that we wear heels. Me being the person who had never worn heels before, tried my best not to fall face forward. But I suppose luck was just not on my side today.

Kyle had helped me backstage, way before the event even began. Which I found a little wierd, since there was so much time and I could've just stayed in the waiting room. He held my hand all the way so he could keep me from tripping.

The day before the show, I had been ranting about how excited I was to see Edmund, and that's when Kyle had got a little idea at the back of his mind.

That leaves us here; we were backstage. "Thank you Kyle.." he smiled at me. "Anything for my beautiful best friend." I blushed at his words nudging him, "oh shush.."

He smirked at me.

"Umm.. Kyle? W-whats with that look?" he laughed, "I'm supposing someone would be really happy to see you today."

That's when it clicked me. This is why he brought me here this early. Heart beginning to race, I scanned my surroundings immediately and that's when I spotted him.

Oh lord.

Edmund smiled making his way towards us. I gasped and quickly began working on an escape plan. Seeing the back door just on Kyle's opposite, I decided to make a run for it. I was just too shy.

"Hey Kyle, hey Y/N!"

"Oh hey Ed! Y/N was just waiting to see yo-" Kyle trailed off processing the situation, "Y/N NOOO!! COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Yep. I made a run for it.

But remember when I said luck wasn't on my side today? Well yes, I managed to trip. I guess I kind of expected this; because how could a person who has never walked in heels before, ever be able to run in them?

I tripped and toppled over into a basket of clothes. Thank god it was big enough, or else who knows what worse things would've happened.

Kyle running upto me and helping me up while Edmund made his way towards us. I could hear the children around me laughing. All I could do was look away in embarrassment. Kicking off my heels I pushed past Kyle before Ed could reach us and rushed out of the hall. Oh that is, before glaring at Kyle.

End of flashback

Julie leaned back to the tree, "I don't see the point of you looking at eachother but not making a move for it." Kyle nodded in agreement, "though Edmund is trying.."

I looked back in his direction. I've got to admit, she does have a point. But I guess this comes with my anxiety. The reason why I cannot resist getting embarrassed and trying to run away. Thinking I'd get flustered, say something dumb and make a fool of myself.

Kyle abruptly stood up, waving at them. "Let's go over to them."

They looked our way waving at us.

Oh no. This is not good.

Peter, the oldest, stood up immediately motioning them to follow him. He began to jog in our direction, Edmund right at his feet.

Feeling like my heart would rip out of my chest I stood up by instinct only to be pulled back by Kyle. Giving me a devilish smirk he whispered into my ear, "oh no y/n.. not this time."

"Hey there!" Peter exclaimed. "We didn't notice you lot here until Edmund told us."

Kyle laughed, "neither did we.. it's great to see you all here." The boys busy engaging in a conversation of their own, I tried to keep my eyes away Edmund.

Lucy and Susan waved at Julie and I, coming over to start up a conversation. While talking I couldn't help but notice Edmund, Peter and Kyle sneaking glances in my direction. I was fighting to hold back the blush rising upto my cheeks. Deciding to brush it off, I listened to what the girls had to say.

"It's so great to see you after so long y/n!" Lucy gave me a hug. Hugging her back I smiled softly, "I'm sorry I couldn't come see you both sooner.. my schedules been so packed lately."

Susan nodded her head, "I heard. The student council has a lot of work going on at the moment." She placed a hand on my shoulder giving me a warm smile, "don't stress yourself y/n.."

Susan and Lu have always been like sisters to me even though I wasn't that close to Peter and Edmund. Hearing Susan's words really made me feel so much better.

A short timeskip (😂) >>>

"Excuse me girls, Y/n.. could I have a word with you?" Kyle interrupted. I nodded my head excusing myself and following him.

"Where are we going Kyle?"

He kept silent eyes focused ahead of him.

"Kyle???" I grabbed onto his arm, "where are you taking meee??" I whined.

"Just follow me.. I have something to tell you," I noticed how he tried to hold back a smile.

Walking further away from our friends we stopped by the water fountain. "Did we have to come this far?" He swiftly turned around to face me at once giving me a sharp gaze; me jumping back in shock at the action.

"Edmund likes you."

"What?" Did I just hear him say what I think he said? I'm pretty sure I'm just hearing things now. Maybe it's because Edmund was with us.

"Edmund likes you," he repeated emphasising his words. I scanned his face trying to see if he was joking or not.

He had to be messing with me right now. There's no way Edmund would like me.

I faked a laugh at him rolling my eyes, "haha very funny.."

"Y/n I'm not joking okay? He told me.. he really did," Kyle looked at me with a straight face. It looked rather believable but what if he was just joking?

Okay I can't take this anymore. At this point, he's messing with my feelings.

"Listen, Kyle.. I'm not buying this okay? If this is your way in pulling a prank on me. I'm not listening." Not wanting to hear anymore of this I turned around, getting ready to leave. But a strong grip on my wrist held me from leaving.

"Kyle no..." I trailed off, turning around to face him I widened my eyes in shock.

Now in Kyle's place stood Edmund.

I jumped backwards letting out a little yelp, "Edmund I-I." Looking around me I saw that Kyle had made his way away from us; pulling a thumbs up at me. I did not expect this.

"Y/N?" feeling my face heat up, I reluctantly shifted my gaze to Edmund. My eyes connecting with those chocolate brown eyes. My throat suddenly went dry.

The situation I was in, made my heart pound against my chest so hard. My crush was standing infront of me and what made me even more flustered? He was holding my hand. And boy were his hands soft.

It took everything in me not to go intertwining our hands together.

"Y-yeah?"

"Y/N, is it true?"

I gulped, "sorry I-I don't think I'm following?" Of course I knew what he was talking about.

"That you like me?" the expression on his face unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was going to be mad at me or happy. He looked at me with his piercing gaze, clearly waiting for an answer.

I can't lie to him.

I don't want to lie to him. I want him to know how I feel. But at the same time, I was scared that maybe Kyle was joking and this was all a prank. And I don't want to lose what Edmund and I have right now.

But my feelings decided to take over.

"I-I... please don't be mad at me. Umm.. yes it's true," I looked down at my hands, not wanting to meet his eyes. Nothing. No response. I knew it, it was too good to be true. All I wanted to do right now was go home and lock myself in my room. I wanted to cry so bad.

"I'm sorry. I-I have to go.." voice cracking. Once again, turning on my heels I walked away from him.

I expected him to hold me back. But no. My vision became blurry with the tears threatening to fall. I knew it. He didn't feel the same.

Just when my tears began streaming down uncontrollably, I bumped into something.

Oh great. Now you have to embarrass yourself infront of him too. I stumbled back losing my balance, bracing for the impact of the hard ground.

Only, I didn't feel anything. No pain.

I slowly opened my eyes, locking eyes with none other than Edmund. I gasped. Apparently, the something I had bumped into, was him. He had managed to wrap his arms around my waist, holding me steady.

Slowly helping me up he averted his gaze scratching the nape of his neck.

"Thank you.." I mumbled looking at my feet.

Suddenly I felt his large hands cup my cheeks, wiping my tears away.

"Y/n.." he whispered.

I looked back at him, his gaze so soft.

"Edmund I'm so sorry.."

"No no shh.. don't be sorry, what do you have to be sorry about?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but he gently placed his index finger on my lips. I felt like my heart would explode at this point.

"Y/n, I'm sorry I let you walk away like that. I just.. I couldn't believe it. That you actually like me."

I tilted my head in confusion.

He chuckled softly, "Y/N I like you too. Heck with it, I think I just might be in love with you."

Okay now I'm sure I was hearing things.

"R-really?" pinching myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming, I whinced.

He chuckled. Nodding his head smiling softly, "I always have. Since the day Kyle introduced us. I felt so comfortable around you. I.." he took a deep breath, "I kept my feelings to myself because I thought you didn't feel the same. I was afraid of the rejection."

"Why would you think I'd reject you? "

He laughed, "well.. everytime I'd try to talk to you, you would run away."

At that, Julie came into my head. She had told me exactly that. I felt a pang of guilt. That was on me.

"I'm sorry.. I really like you too Ed. I was just so scared you know?"

Now it was his turn to look at me in confusion, "scared of what?"

I sighed, "I wanted to make a first good impression, I thought I'd make a fool of myself infront of you.."

He hummed, "well forget that now. You don't need to worry about making a good first impression on me anymore. Because I think you're just amazing." I felt my cheeks heat up once again.

"Y/N?"

"Yes Ed?"

"Since the feelings are mutual, would you do me the honour and let me court you?" I smiled nodding my head. My heart was fluttering with joy.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him and into his embrace, "finally.. I can do this and call you mine. I love you y/n."

Wrapping my arms around him I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck, "I love you too Ed."

Pulling away I giggled. I was so happy. The moment I had been dreaming of for so long, finally came true.

Gazing into each others eyes we burst into giggles. "You don't know how happy I am right now," Edmund mumbled, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Oh would you both cut with the cute talk and kiss already?!" Peter yelled suddenly. We were so caught up in the moment we hadn't even noticed our little audience.

Lucy was squealing in joy while the others were giving us knowing looks. Like they knew this was going to happen all along. Which they actually did. Kyle winking at me, I really have to thank the guy I thought.

I turned back to face Edmund, who had his eyes on me already.

He cleared his throat, "c-can I?" He looked so flustered. Giggling I stood on my toes pecking his lips. When I pulled away I couldn't resist the urge to laugh.

His lips parted, eyes wide and pupils dilated. And the next minute he leaned down locking our lips together once again the two of us smiling into the kiss.

Well what do you know? Love finds a way..

Hey there everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this! Please send in requests guys, my inbox literally has flies in it 😂��️

Love you all and stay safe ❤️

#edmund pevensie #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #prince caspian #narnia aslan #narnia #chronicles of narnia

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apollos-son · 4 years ago

Text

✎ . . . ❝Sail Away,❞

Rating ; 15+

Pairing ; eventual poly ot8 ateez

Genre ; adventure, fluff, heavy angst, fantasy

Tags ; ateez pirate au, violence, blood, magic, mythical creatures, au of the past

A/N ; some events in this series will be based loosely on events that have occurred in ateez mvs that go along with ateez's story. I say loosely because I'm not reciting what happened in the mvs, I'm taking some of the events and twisting them in an interesting (I hope) way. There are tags that will be added later on, and in specific chapters there will also definitely be trigger warnings, however if there does happen to be anything triggering in chapters that I have mistakenly not labelled with a trigger warning - please let me know so I can add a warning.

Summary ; Kim Hongjoong is a hero reborn, brought back from a war he inevitably died in to defeat the darkness that once left his home, his family and the rest of the world in ruin. It's up to him and his companions to prevail over the most challenging of evils. Will they be able to do it? Or will everything crumble to pieces?

I know this is unlikely but I do ask that you do not copy my work under any circumstances. Do not repost, translate or use my work without permission. Thanks :)

-> The origin chapters

<- previous chapter • next chapter ->

Chapter 1 ⇢ ❝The World Left In Ruin.❞

It was a disaster. Everything that could've gone wrong.. it went wrong. They thought that this would be an easy battle. They thought they would emerge victorious. The preparations, the plans. It all meant nothing now.

There were too many dead bodies to count. Some were scattered individually, showing a soldier who danced alone, on their own paths. Others were in groups, clusters, showing soldiers who were afraid of this beast. Deeply afraid. Rightly so, she thought as she gazed over them. A battle had been lost. Not just a battle, the war had been lost.

。

She wiped the dirt off of her face as she collapsed to her knees. This was the temple, the place where she watched over the humans. Those old walls that had cracks etched in from years gone by, the overgrown plants that were evergreen. Beautiful. Sitting here now, with these eight bodies, the bodies of the heroes, she finally realised something. Destiny realised that it wasn't over yet. This world and that which remains within it was not yet doomed. Her fingers clenched around the cloth cloak that draped over her small body. Yes, she was weak and yes, using the last of her power would prevent her returning to Earth but it was the only way. Her eyes met the cold, dead ones of Kim Hongjoong and she heaved a long, defeated sigh.

Her only hope. Their only hope.

。

[three years later]

Soft brown eyes slowly flutter open, a sense of dreariness and haziness flooding over his body. Everything ached. It felt like hell. His limbs hurt, his head hurt. It took him a while to really see over his surroundings. Where... Where was he? The place was huge, ancient and yet it had a sense of charm that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He wipes his eyes with the palms of his little hands and he tries to stand up. He couldn't remember a thing. Why he was here, what happened before this point, he couldn't even remember his name.

Clumsily, he made his way over to a little pool of water that sat in one of the four corners of the room. He gazed down into the liquid and saw a faded reflection of a pretty boy staring back at him. Blue, fluffy hair, clear skin and beautiful brown eyes. His hands made contact with the cold stone that sealed the water off from the rest of the temple. A voice called something from the distance. Calling out the name of someone.. "Hongjoong"

Reluctantly, he followed that voice, down one of the corridors that the temple had. He observed the walls, every little crack and every little dent. That voice grew louder "Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong," it sang, as though the name were a sweet melody. "who is that?" he thought "who is this person? Who is Kim Hongjoong?"

The corridor came to an end abruptly. His eyes widened at the sight before him. There were pillars towering over him and gaps between each of them. The fresh smell of air and salt wafted through as he finally got a look at the outside. It was beautiful, but.... it was also nothing but water. Water that stretched as far as the eye could see. No matter which way he looked at the openings,, no land was in sight.

Then, a piercing light came from the centre of the room, causing the boy to shield his eyes away hastily. A mosaic that was stretched across the floor in the centre also lit up. "Kim Hongjoong," the same voice chimed. "Kim Hongjoong, you must hear my call," it repeated.

"Kim... Hongjoong?" The boy replied croakily "I don't know anybody by that name," he said. The voice paused "who are you?" it asked. The boy's brows furrowed and he spoke unsurely "I have no clue,, I just woke up here, I don't remember anything,"

That was the big question, who was he? The light in the room seemed to only glow brighter at his response. "fallen hero,,," it insisted "you are our only hope... the fate of the world rests in your hands,"

Stubbornly, the boy shook his head "m-me? A fallen hero?? But I have no recollection of my past, how can that be?" he asked In desperation. His white button down flowed in the slow breeze and his tongue ran smoothly across his cold lips. The aching that overcame his body had subsided, but only by a short amount.

His eyes drooped closed, his head hurting still yet the pain blossoming through it seemed to slowly but surely fade with every inhale and exhale. His arms extended from each side outwards, taking in the wind and the sun from the outside. Embracing it. Nothing hurt anymore. He was truly alive. It was a feeling like no other. To feel every part of his body again. To feel like himself again. But, who was he? The person standing here, inhaling the vast ocean's salty scent was not the hero the voice called out for. So why did he follow? Questions without answers. Questions that needed answers.

He felt his eyes flicker open again, and the light was gone. Like it was never there. In its place, however, fluttered a golden butterfly. A small creature that held innocence and beauty within its being. The little butterfly perched upon the boy's finger when he reached out to touch it. Its perfect glistening glow was captivating. Warm brown eyes inspect the little insect carefully as it's pretty wings twitched. "what's a small thing like you doing in a place like this?" The boy asked in a soft tone, obviously not expecting an answer.

Wait.. Was it just him or was the butterfly twinkling more than a butterfly should..? Then, before his very eyes, the butterfly seemed to fade away; almost as if it was melting. Now nothing but sparkling dust remained on his fingers. As he rose his hand up to inspect the glittering powder, his hand was set ablaze. With a small gasp, he shook his hand vigorously but the flames merely danced around his fingertips, burning with passion.

。

This new power that surged through his body, he couldn't quite understand what it was. He had spent a while experimenting with it, creating flames, creating plant life, creating light and, perhaps less excitingly and more concerningly, destroying certain things that he touched. It seemed that he had the power of creation and destruction at his fingertips, yet he couldn't quite use it at his will. That was evident by the amount of flowers blooming around him and the amount of plants hugging at his feet. How curious.

The sun's bright light soon fell as the boy experimented continuously with this strange oddity now available to him. It was entertaining, sure, but he felt lonely. The moon's silver luminescence shined down on him as he sat between one of the gaps of the sturdy pillars in the room that was open to the ocean. It was too dark to see a thing elsewhere so it left the small boy to gaze up at the stars.

He still had no idea who he was or how he got here. "Kim Hongjoong" was the only person he knew of but,, he wasn't certain if he was Kim Hongjoong for sure. For now then... Until he gets a solid answer, he'll call himself "Hong"

Hong kicked his legs out a little bit and shivered lightly. His thin clothes weren't really shielding him from the night's cool air. He glamced at his left hand and pressed his lips together, until a flame shortly blazed over his palm. The warmth of the flame soothed him, as his eyelids grew heavy, calling for him to enter a slumber.

Slowly, Hong lowered himself until he was flat on his back, his hands up in the air so he could watch the red and orange embers flare at his fingers. Something then came to mind, what was he to do in this place? Eventually, he'd starve to death, correct? So... He had to figure out how to escape, there must be land somewhere else. For that moment, though, he let himself fall into a slumber. He let those thoughts and those worries drift away for now.

。

Startled, Hong awoke with a start. Something had hit his face. And it was more prominent then a bug or a drop of rain. He sat up and stretched his arms out above him and looked around. To his left, a small scroll of paper sat. That must've been what hit him.

His small hands twitched as he reached for the crisp piece of paper. It was rolled up precisely and wrapped in a red ribbon. Maybe,, just maybe, this could explain to him what was going on. He hastily unravelled the paper and scanned it. His look of hope quickly faded into something that resembled confusion. Words were etched into the paper elegantly, though most of it appeared in a language Hong couldn't quite recognise. Only one part stood out to him. The name. "Park Seonghwa," he whispered. His index finger traced the name in the italic handwriting and sighed. Two names, without meaning.

He stared at the writing for a while, trying to decipher what it was saying. But he could never get past the first sentence, which was clearly written in Korean. "We were written in the stars, by Destiny herself,"

His mind seemed restless, but the sun had not even come up yet. He was using the small light source that the moon gave off. His eyes lifted to stare at the many stars. "written in the stars... what does that mean?" he asked himself solemnly. A small crackle of fire came to his attention and he looked down again only to realise that he was burning the aged paper. "No!-" he squeaked in desperation but before he could do anything, the paper had burnt to a crisp.

Not long after though a figure appeared beside him. A gasp left his lips in shock and he moved himself back, away from the figure that was laying unconscious on the floor. Did,, did he do that? Surely not, that couldn't be possible. He looked over the figure for a moment, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Park... Seonghwa?" he queried quietly.

When the figure's eyes opened abruptly to reveal a pretty blue, Hong gasped again. He had the urge to reach out and touch the person's face, but restrained himself from doing so. "who.. are you?" The figure, that upon closer inspection seemed to resemble a man also, asked with a sense of weariness in his voice.

"I.. don't really know,"

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

Lil taglist:

@atiny-piratequeen @ningnings-plushies @btsheadquarters7 @catboy-dia

#Aaron-James writes #finallyy #first fic #I'm so happy with myself #and how this came out #and I hope that other people like it too #because I really enjoy it myself #:D #origin chapter #ateez #Adventure #this is a filler chapter that had to be established before I can move on to the more interesting stuff #there will be more fluff in the next chapter ;)#I know that this isn't going to get much attention but that's just how it goes #Sail Away

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exoticarmy127 · 4 years ago

Text

🎧 Track 10: Unsaid Emily by Charlie Gillespie

🎵 “If I could take us back, if I could just do that And write in every empty space, the words "I love you" in replace Then maybe time would not erase me.

Featuring: BTS - Jungkook

OC - Emily Mei

Some time before.

They say words are like bullets. Easy to pull the trigger without thinking... easier said that once done, it’s impossible for the damage to be undone.

“So what, you’re sick of it? Is that what you’re saying?” Jungkook shouted as he shoved his song book into his backpack. The night had been going well and for once, he thought they could have one night—one night where he didn’t feel like pulling his hair out for once.

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Jungkook! That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Emily shouted back as the fight escalated into a crescendo of screams and shouts. It was always about the same thing: Jungkook being too busy with his music; Emily being too busy with her studies to make time for him when he’s off practice; not having enough time for each other; not wanting to communicate; blah, blah, blah...

Jungkook was sick of it. Things were finally looking up for his band and he had poured his entire heart and soul into it. His passion. He thought Emily understood that. He thought she understood him. But to his confusion, Emily didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Really? Because it sure as hell sounds like you’re done.” He seethed. “Hell—I’m done with this sh*t!”

Silence enveloped the room and for a moment the world stopped. The fight had reached its final curtain call and Jungkook hoped there wouldn’t be an encore.

Emily looked at him, bewildered. “Jungkook...”

“Save it. I have rehearsals in fifteen. I’m already late and the guys are already at the studio. I don’t need a distraction.”

“Distraction?” She echoed as she watched him pick up his things and head for the door. Her expression contorts into something in between anger and confusion. “So what? You’re just going to leave it like that? Don’t you even care about this? About us?

“What about it?” He muttered flatly, but Emily looked like she had just been slapped.

“What about it? What exactly are you saying, Guk?” Her voice was a low whisper, like a dormant volcano just waiting to erupt. Jungkook sighed and it sounded exhausted, irritated, even; like he had already erupted and this was just the messy aftermath.

“I’m saying I’m done.” He whirled at her, his eyes empty of their usual love and affection, replaced by fierce anger and deadly sincerity. “I’m done, all right? I don’t wanna do this any more than you do.”

“Y-you don't mean that. Hell, you’re thinking I’m the villain here but all I’m saying is that if you don��t give time to what’s important to you, you’re gonna end up losing them.”

Her words hit him square in the chest and when it should have made him sad, it only angered him more.

So she’s giving up on me. She’s letting go. She doesn’t want this—doesn’t want me—anymore.

“I should get to practice already before I lose it, then.”

Jungkook knew it was the wrong answer but he couldn’t give in now. The tension was palpable in the room and he held his breath for another round of sharp words and accusations. But it never came. Emily stood there, stunned, while Jungkook continued to pack his belongings, purposely avoiding her gaze. He knew that if he looked at her now, he'd break, and they’d be back to square one. They’d make up only to fight again by the end of the week.

He could hear her sniffing and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from looking up at her. If there was one thing he hated more than fighting, it was seeing her cry.

“Look,” Emily started, her voice hoarse. “You’re just angry. We can talk after—“

“Well, I’ve been angry for a long time.” Jungkook grumbled as he made his way to the door, hastily.

“Guk, please...”

He paused by the threshold when he heard the crack in her voice and he hated how easy it could beckon him. He closed his hand into fists and pressed his lips into a thin line. He looked down at the floors of her apartment, one he had considered home more than his own for as long as he could remember.

“Let’s face it, Em. We obviously want different things now.”

“Do you really believe that?” She asked but he didn’t answer. She took a step closer, their forms lit by the single light bulb in the narrow hallway. “If you really do, then I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook lifted his gaze to the ceiling, closed his eyes and sighed. “Look, I’m tired of fighting.” He looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Aren’t you?”

Without another word, he slipped out the door, shutting it behind him. The click of the lock sounded much like an end... A period... A goodbye.

Jungkook left that night not knowing he’d carry the weight of his words for a very long time.

~~~

Some time after.

Jungkook gripped the guitar strap on his shoulder as he walked the empty halls of his old high school. The late afternoon sun casted orange hues across the tiled halls and over the metal lockers lining the wall. A couple of students emerged from a door to his right, but they paid him no mind and walked past him, busily talking to each other. Jungkook paused and looked over his shoulder, watching them hold hands before completely disappearing from his view as they rounded a corner. He looked down at his own hand and sighed.

He remembered it like it was yesterday: the very first time he held her hand...or rather, the first time he felt something when he did.

Flashback

Jungkook leaned against Emily’s locker, giving her one of his famed puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist. “Em, come on… Let’s just ditch school today and go rehearse.”

“At this rate, you’ll have to make me a member of your band.”

“You are a member. An honorary one, at least.” Jungkook grinned and batted his pretty eyes. Emily rolled her eyes but he caught the small smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

Her very pretty mouth...

Wait, what? Jungkook blinked at the thought and cleared his throat when he felt the heat creeping to his cheeks.

“You okay?” Emily cocked an eyebrow at him and he straightened and crossed his arms, defensively.

“Fine. Now come on! Say yes.”

“No.”

“Boo.”

Emily chuckled and patted his shoulder. The action was meant to be friendly but Jungkook felt like he had been shot by lightning, his eyes in a daze as he stared at her playful smile.

“You’ll thank me later for dragging your ass back to class. Trust me.”

The hall bell rang and both their heads darted up to the ceiling.

“Sh*t! We’re gonna be late.” Emily panicked but Jungkook only leaned against the lockers again, lips curling into a smirk.

“Well, you know what they say, it’s better never than late.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, while Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“That’s not how the saying goes!”

“Not in my book. Come on, let’s just skip it and—whoa!” Emily grabbed his hand and before Jungkook could process the warmth on his skin, she was dragging him through the hallway so fast; the two of them running to class hand in hand.

Jungkook was winded by the time they reached the classroom, but it wasn’t because they just rushed to the other side of the building in record time...

But because the whole time they did, not once did she let go, and it was electrifying.

End of flashback

The memory faded like a song on the radio and Jungkook’s grip on his guitar tightened. He didn’t have much time. He had to do this before...

Before it’s too late again.

The sun was setting soon and Jungkook walked faster as he made his way to the room he was looking for. It was weird walking through these hallways. He knew where everything was. It was familiar and yet also strange, like he no longer belonged.

That’s because I probably don’t. Not anymore... he thought bitterly.

He reached the second floor and walked to the end of the left corridor where the music room was located.

He opened the door and sighed in relief when he found it empty. He let himself in and wandered, seeing all the instruments and music sheets scattered around the room. There’s a platform at the very front, a low stage with a white screen covering it, which he supposed was either meant to be a curtain of sorts for performances or for video presentations. To its right was an open window with a sheen curtain, overlooking the quadrangle.

Jungkook found the teacher’s table to his right and ambled towards it. He reached for his song book inside his jacket and flipped through the wrinkled pages until it was on the most important page before putting it down on the desk. Next, he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small tape recorder. He placed the device beside the song book and pressed play.

Footsteps sounded from outside and Jungkook looked back in panic before rushing to the stage and hiding behind the screen.

The door opened to voices of girls and boys but one in particular rose among them; familiar and so very...her.

“Alright guys, I’ll see what I can do, okay? And don’t be late for practice! The competition is in two weeks. And what did I always say?”

“Practice doesn’t make us perfect but it makes us better.” The students all said in unison and Jungkook smiled. He used to tell her that whenever she caught him practicing too late (which was 99% of the time).

“Okay. See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Bye, Ms. Mei!”

Jungkook swallowed as he tried to sneak a peek from behind the screen. He held his breath as he watched a woman close the door, and then turned towards the room. Emily stood there in jeans and a button-down blouse with her hair tied up in a ponytail. She was radiant as ever and looked something out of a movie scene. Jungkook smiled sadly as he gazed at her from behind the screen. She looked the same but also different, which he supposed was how time passed for people you loved...

Love.

She suddenly looked to the other side of the room, and from where Jungkook stood, it felt like she was looking right at him. Even though he knew it was impossible, his heart skipped a beat.

He held his breath as she made her way to her desk, not yet noticing the change in it. He chewed on his lip, a habit of his when he was nervous, and watched as she picked up instruments and placed them into their proper cases before finally reaching the table to organize a bunch of papers and sheet music lying around.

She lifted one of the sheets and paused, and Jungkook knew she saw it.

He stared as her face morphed from confusion, to curiosity, then to shock. She looked up, eyes looking wildly around her as if she’d find the person who left the notebook there.

She never would.

Jungkook looked down at his watch then at the open window, seeing the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, turning the skies pink and purple.

It’s time.

The sun’s rays casted a golden glow against his face and shadows crawled against the wooden floors of the music room.

Jungkook took a deep breath and watched her through the screen. He waited for a few breaths for the light to cast over the screen just right... just until he knew his shadow could be seen on the other side. When it finally did, he felt the magic spark against his skin and found his voice at last.

“Emily.”

Emily looked up at the voice, her expression somewhere in the middle of shock and fear and...sorrow.

“Who’s there…?” Her voice cracked and it sounded less of a question as her face showed recognition. Jungkook supposed he should be happy she could still remember his voice. All those nights he sang to her came rushing back and the pain in his chest grew... One he knew he could never quell.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s just me.”

Emily lets out a gasp and drops the papers she was holding. The sheets flew in all directions but she couldn’t seem to care. She turned around in a circle, looking for the impossible. But she couldn’t see anything. It was then that she laid eyes on the recorder playing on the table.

“Jungkook?” She whispered in disbelief.

“I-I know it’s sudden. But there are some things I didn’t get to say to you... that night.”

Jungkook brought his guitar to his front, letting the instrument fit against his body like second skin. Emily always told him that he carried and played it like it was a part of him. When she said that, he’d hold her hand and tell her that if there was one thing he considered a part of him, it would be her.

Back then, he meant it to be a cheesy, adoring boyfriend. Now, it was the hard truth that slapped him across the face.

“H-how is this...” Emily’s voice shook, her head turning and eyes brimming with tears as she stared wide-eyed at the tape recorder on the table.

Jungkook inhaled deeply and as he breathed out, the first few notes sounded from his guitar, his fingers moving deftly against the frets and strings like he had never stopped playing in the first place. Music was always a part of his DNA, an extension of his soul. When he played, he played with his whole heart and right now as she stared at Emily reading the page on his song book, he sang with his everything.

First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappeared from my mind

Jungkook closed his eyes and let the music take over. People said actions spoke louder than words, but for Jungkook, his music had always been his way of showing how he truly felt. The loudest way he could express what he felt. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, he told her all the things he should’ve done...

When things got loud

One of us running out

I should've turned around

But I had too much pride

Emily covered her lips with a shaking hand and Jungkook knew she was thinking about the last time they had seen each other. How they both said some horrible things, words thrown at each recklessly without thought. Jungkook treated it like a sport. Who could say the worst things? Who would break first and give in? Even when he knew there was no chance of either of them winning.

He wasn’t even sure why he fought when he knew she was just trying to save the one thing he knew he would regret most. More than his music, Emily meant everything to him.

No time for goodbyes

Didn't get to apologize

Pieces of a clock that lies broken

Regrets were often made from the things you thought were right at the moment. Jungkook had known he made the wrong one the moment he stepped out of that door. But he just couldn’t swallow his pride and walked away. And now, he’s stuck in that moment, thinking of what could’ve been if he just turned around...

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

~~~

Emily trembled as she read the words, her hand splayed on the page, her fingertips tracing Jungkook’s familiar messy scrawls. The words were written in haste, which in Jungkook’s music vocabulary meant they were written with the most emotion. She could see it in the curve of his letters, in the way the ink bled through the page, showing that he was gripping the pen too tightly in either excitement or frustration. He saw it in the scrawls, the words scratched over as he struggled to find the right words—the right lyrics that will reflect his feelings. A tear fell from her eye.

The one thing Emily learned about Jungkook in the years that they were together was that he wasn’t the most expressive of people. He was quiet, always in his own world, in his own music headspace. But Emily knew him like the back of her hand. So well that she could easily tell what he was feeling through his eyes.

She couldn’t forget the night he left and how he gazed at her...like he was done, like he didn’t love her anymore.

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave...

Unsaid Emily.

Emily loved Jungkook’s music. It was one of the things he loved about him. So when his career started to take off, she did nothing but support him. It was given blindly out of love and belief that he could make it big. That his talent was big enough for the world.

But she never thought of the consequences. Never thought his dreams would be the reason he would drift father away from her each day, until they were no more than just strangers.

But Jungkook would never be a stranger, she thought sadly. A heartbreaking memory, perhaps. But never a stranger.

~~~

Silent days, mysteries and mistakes

Who'd be the first to break?

Guess we're alike that way

The problem with two people who were both passionate and strong-willed was that they were both willing to prove they’re right. Near the end of their relationship, they barely even talked. The silence deafening and stretching for days on end...

Jungkook wished he broke the silent spell then and shouted out from the rooftops how much he loved her.

He said, she said

Conversations in my head

And that's just where they're gonna stay forever

Emily’s tears began to fall, the tears staining the paper in front of her as she read the lyrics. Her hands shook, her heart ached in her chest, and it felt like with every note and every line, her heart cracked just a little bit… her once broken heart, breaking once again.

When he walked out that night, she forgot to say should’ve asked him...

Stay.

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave

Unsaid Emily

Emily sank to her knees, shaking and crying as she held the song book to her chest. The echoes of the song still ringing in her ears. Jungkook watched with tears in his eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was seeing the love of his life crying and being the reason for it.

She cried for the time they wasted fighting. He cried for the time stolen from him and could never get back. But most of all, they cried for the time—and love they lost.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked as the tears continued to fall. “I never meant it. I was never tired.”

Emily looked up at his words, her eyes zeroing in on the screen. Jungkook gasped as it felt like she was looking right at him.

The sun was so low that he could catch the blue hour slipping through that small window of time from the way the shadows began to disappear. He held his breath as she walked towards the platform, the song book clutched to her chest. With the remaining light, he hoped she could see him.

“Guk?”

Jungkook choked out a sob as he reached out to the screen and spread his palm over it. Emily’s breath hitched as she lifted her right hand over it, until they were hand to hand.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath when he saw the shadow of her hand against his through the screen. She’s so close...

And yet lifetimes apart.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening but you have to know…” Emily whispered to the wind but Jungkook heard her loud and clear. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too.”

Jungkook shook his head. He should’ve been relieved but he wasn’t. He wasn’t because one stupid decision costed him so much. Costed him a life with the person he loved the most.

It’s almost time...

A voice reverberated in his head, making his heart quicken in panic. I don’t have much time, he wanted to say. But he knew there was only ever one thing left to say…

“Emily, I lo—”

The sun dipped and the shadow disappeared from the screen, leaving the room dark and blue with the beginnings of silver moonlight shining from the window. And then there was an eerie silence.

Emily gasped when a gust of wind blew through the open window, turning the page of the song book to the next...

She cried even more when she read the three words written in his handwriting.

~~~

Some time in between.

Jungkook finished the song at midnight, his fingertips scarred from playing his guitar for hours, his hand dotted with ink stains, and his chest heaving from satisfaction and excitement as he stared at the open page in front of him.

It’s done.

“Now I just have to sing it to her.” Jungkook licked his lips as he turned to the next page and wrote the words: I love you.

He looked up at the clock and saw the time but he didn’t care. He'd break in through her window if he had to.

Emily had to know how he felt. It had been two days since the big fight and Jungkook couldn’t eat or sleep. He knew he should’ve returned to her immediately, but he had to wait. He had to show her he was sorry. And he had to do it in the most sincere way possible… through song.

With his guitar on his back, he took his bike and kicked his foot against the asphalt with his song book rolled and tucked in his back pocket.

He raced through the streets, ready to tell her the words... “I’m sorry”... “I’m not tired”... “I don’t hate you...”

I love you.

With thoughts of Emily and her bright, kind eyes, Jungkook sped across an intersection. There was a sudden searing light, a ringing in his ears, and...

Then nothing.

The last thing Jungkook remembered was the sight of broken wood pieces and strings... and the lyrics to a song unsung with words unsaid.

End

Hello, my dears! Did you miss me? I loved this song so much and it inspired me so thought I’d express it through fanfic. haha!

I hope everyone is staying safe and well. It’s been a weird past few months (or year really) but we’re pushing through and I hope you are too! I hope you guys enjoyed this scenario. Even though it made you cry (hell it made me cry!) Btw, this song is from the sound track of the Netflix series, Julie and the Phantoms. Go watch it if you haven’t! It’s good! I am hoping for a season 2~

Do let me know what you think of this and let me know if you guys have some song recs for this series. ;)

- Kaye Allen

LSS PLAYLIST ; mobile

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tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 3 years ago

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🎉 Happy Birthday to who?? 🎂 (or : The best birthday she ever had)

Pairings: The Voorheese’s family(MJ, Malon and Jason)

Warnings: a bit sad, cute

another banner under the cut since I love making those hehe :D

Absolutely don’t hesitate to tell me if I did any mistakes, it would be extremely appreciated!<3

—

As soon as she woke up, the only thought that MJ had was;

Oh god, not today.

Why you ask? Well, it’s her birthday even though she never celebrated it, which kind of made it hard in her whenever someone would remind her of it.

It wasn’t a big deal, but today was. After long time of no signs of life, her parents had sent her a “Happy Birthday” card bought from the nearest store with the cheap envelope that you can’t even open. It was cute and nice of them to think about her, but she almost would have preferred they didn’t, the classic message “We hope you’re having an amazing day since it’s your day and blah-blah-blah” greeted her as she opened it and closed it after, a small smile onto her face. She was so into the piece of paper that she was obvious of the small red head looking over her shoulder with a small grin. As soon as MJ turned around her daughter was already gone and tiptoeying away, a mischevious look on her face.

She never even knew when her mother's birthday was, so she would cherish this information. The first thing Malon did was look for her father, her smile widening when she saw him cutting some woods outside. Jason had his back to her, an axe in his bigger hands as he cut some woods for one of his numerous projects, his usual jacket missing even if it was chilly outside. The wind made her hug her small knitted jacket tighter to her body as she moved towards him. She liked how her father was so creative, but sometimes she thought about how he made them for her and her mother, just to see them smile...She wasn't stupid. If only she could tell him how happy her and her mom were happy with just being with him, but he wouldn't believe them anyway... Well, at least they could try to make him understand how much he means to them by doing small things for him and saying everyday that they love him <3. But going back to it, she announced her presence with more weight in her steps, knowing her father would probably die again if she sneaked up on him. When he realized she was there, he put the potential weapon down and looked down at her, crouching beside her as she hugged him. ''Did you know it's mom's birthday?... '' Malon said as she looked into his dark eyes with her sparkling and childish ones. A laugh escaped her as she saw her father's face look like he had just been slapped, his eyes wide open. To answer her question, the undead man nodded and got up, but he couldn't fool her. He couldn't fool her, and Malon knew he knew that. Even so, she still let him think that he did as she watched him pace around with his eyes moving back and forth as he was obviously thinking. It was even funnier when she asked him bluntly if he wanted her to help him find a present for her mother, a childish smile still on her face. Without even thinking about it, Jason immediately nodded with enthusiasm and despair. Both knew that they could not find a gift on their own, the reason why they immediately went to work. Still almost laughing, Malon followed her father to the small shed behind the cabin and waited for him outside when he made her sign to.

After some time of waiting and hearing him rummaging inside, the curious girl was going to ask him what he was doing until she saw him get a really big wooden chest outside, the paint chipping away as it seemed to have survived a lot. What she didn't know and nobody did is that it did survive a lot, since it's Jason's old toy chest. Obviously, there weren't toys inside. It was a surprise to his daughter when he opened it and she saw lots of things inside, mostly things that he had taken from his victims/the trespassers. There was almost anything; jewelries, brushes, broken phones, what looked like snacks but were obviously not good anymore, clothes..... A lot of things. ''Woah! Where does this come from?? '' Malon said with excitement, impressed by the things inside as she leaned down to look. Her father only made a shush motion as he winked at her, already starting to look through the heavy box at his feet on his knees. Trying to make small talks and being really curious, Malon asked her father after guessing those were things he collected; '' For how long have you been collecting those?... '' Jason stopped and looked up, frowning and making a motion to say he doesn't know, which surprises Malon even more. He didn't know for how long he had been collecting those things, but he remembered a bit that he started approximately when he saw MJ for the first time, but he wasn't going to say that to his daughter. After some times of searching, he found an almost intact compass at the bottom and took it with a small pocket knife and some other things he found, having a small idea of what to do. He had let Malon look inside too for something to give her mother, evidently making sure to show her to be careful because there was some dangerous things inside the chest. Malon chooses a cute ring that Jason didn't even knew he had with a necklace that has a small rock that her father told her is an 'aquamarine', the people who are born in march's birthstone(correct me if I'm wrong<3).

To get the dust and dirt off, Jason gave his daughter a small rag and she did just that, smiling as she saw how beautiful the jewelleries were. Before Jason closed the chest and hid it in the shed again, he took some camo pants that had a hole in them and closed the lid, remembering he had a small sewing kit on a shelf. He watched as Malon ran inside to find a cute bag to put the jewelleries inside and draw her mom a birthday card before he put all his strength into taking it back to the shed and hiding it, the things he took into his arms.

While they did that, MJ was wondering what her family was doing as she hadn't seen them when she got up. It was definitely strange since Malon always came to her and asked her for breakfast since Jason was mostly always working. But she hasn't even seen a glimpse of the child, not until now at least. The front door closed softly as the woman made her way to greet the person, frowning and tilting her head when she saw Malon hiding something in her pockets. ''Hey sweetheart! Where have you been? '' ''Oh! I-I was looking for daddy until I found him and helped him with..... something. '' Malon said with an hesitant pose as she almost looked panicked, obviously trying to hide something from her as she averted her eyes. ''Okay....'' MJ was going to let it pass since she didn't want to assume anything, so she only watched her speed walk to her room with a small chuckle when she heard her door close. Her pale eyes looked into the window as she saw Jason's retreating back going into the shed and closing the door. 'Why... Why are they acting so strange?? ' She thought as her brows seemed to be in a permanent frown. To change her mind, she decided that she would make a light breakfast for her and Malon, since her husband didn't need to eat and looked quite busy.

Questions raced through her mind as she cut some fresh strawberries/blueberries/raspberries (your pick :p) from the garden on the cutting board, being careful not to cut herself in the process. It was kind of weird that they decided to hide themselves on her birthday. It's not like they knew though, so she couldn't say anything. She got some crackers and yogurt (sorry if you don't/she doesn't eat that D:) and put them in a bowl as she smashed the biscuits in a small bag before putting the into the almost liquid substance and took the bowl with the fruits to the side to Malon, keeping another one of the same thing at the table as she obviously wanted to eat too. She knocked softly on her daughter's door as she called out to her, almost jumping back when she opened the door right away with a giddy smile. ''Here you go hon...'' She gave the food to her as she put it on the small table with the chair in the corner of her room. Before MJ could go though, she felt a small hand holding hers. ''I've got something for you, mom...'' A soft look came onto her face as she nodded with a small 'okay' and entered her daughter's room. ''That's nice of you, baby... What have you got for me? '' She answered back softly with a smile as she saw her pick a small pink bag from the floor. ''Here.'' The bag was placed into her hand carefully as she looked down at it with curiosity, missing Malon's childish and excited smile as she opened it carefully. There was a piece of paper that was folded in two on the top, so that's what she took and gasped as soon as she saw sparkles falling out of it, colourful colours and writing inside. It was written in blue and pink 'Happy birthday mom! ' In Malon's shaky handwriting. There were three stick figures beside each other, one that had muscles and was taller than the other and one that had a birthday hat. At the realization, MJ's eyes became glassy and happy tears fell down her face, her eyes fixed on the homemade card. ''Oh my.... Thank you so much, darling. You certainly didn't need to.....Awww....'' She instantly hugged her daughter tightly, almost forgetting the presents at the bottom until she was reminded by the girl. Her hand shakily reached inside as she ignored the fact that she didn't tell anybody it was her birthday for now as she felt two small things and gathered them in her hands. It was a beautiful shock again when she saw the jewelleries she hold in her hands, her eyes wide open before she covered her mouth with her other hand. ''Malon....'' She almost whispered as she watched the small girl hug her tightly and smile happily. ''Put them on!'' MJ carefully put the ring on as she admired it, feeling Malon's smaller hands put the necklace's chain around her neck and attach it with the clip at the back. ''W...Where did you get those?.......'' ''Daddy had them in a chest!'' The girl didn't know if she should have told her about the chest, but she did anyway. After some cuddles and hugs, MJ finally asked her how she knew it was her birthday. ''Well...I saw that you were reading a brithday card your parents gave you........'' It instantly clicked in her mind as she let out a chuckle, already guessing that she told Jason too. ''You didn't have to get me anything, I swear sweetie--'' ''I HAD to!!'' She was surprised as her daughter cut her off with a whine, hugging her tighter. ''You always get us something, you deserves so much more!'' Before she knew it, a tear fell down her face again as she buried her face into her daughter's red hair with a giant smile. ''I love you so so sooooooo much....'' ''I love you toooooo....'' MJ was trying so hard not to tear up,

until she heard the door open again.

With a chuckle and some sniffles, she let her daughter go and looked at her face as she placed some loose strands behind her small ears. ''Well, *sniffle* daddy is home...'' She said as she took Malon into her arms, smiling even more as she giggled and wrapped her small limbs around her. She walked out of the room and caressed her soft hair as she smiled brightly at her now unmasked husband. He went slowly towards her with a beautiful but shy smile as he kissed her softly and gave a small pat to Malon's head, on hand behind his back. His lopsided smile enlarged before his wife could do anything else as he took his hand out from behind his back, a home made camo patterned bag into his strong hand. Malon was sure that her mother would have dropped her from shock if she hadn't hopped from her arms some seconds ago. The woman's pale eyes were impossibly wide as she took the offered bag in her hands, feeling that there are some things inside. Tears finally streamed down her face as she looked at all its angles, noting the sloppily stitched words into the bag as she squinted and smiled. ''A...A survival bag?... '' A nod was her answer as he made a sign for her to carry on. The noise of the velcro was what filled the cabin as soon as she pulled gently the piece of fabric closing the bag. The only thought that came to her was that she didn't deserve all that, but she knew that her husband would whoop her ass if she said that. Obviously, another shocked gasp escaped her as she wiped her face with the back of her unoccupied hand. She took out the things inside and put them on the kitchen table, putting the bag aside once it was emptied of all its content. Her eyes travelled once again, but to the things that she had gotten out; a pocket knife, a compass in a small leather pouch and what seemed like a Swiss pocket knife and a big roll of thick rope. Happiness invaded her full body and she hugged her husband tightly, her arms coming to wrap around his neck before she kissed him, chuckling and parting as she heard a small “eww” from Malon. “I love you so much….” The answer she got was her lover’s hands in the shape of a heart as he pointed to her. She chuckled again. Leaning her body on him after some moments, MJ started to speak again. “I seriously don’t deserve you two… It’s just……” There was a pose and Malon and Jason could almost have thought that she would have cried again, yet she didn’t. “Thank you…. “

The three hugged tightly, staying in the hug as long as long as they wanted as they didn’t have anything to do anyway. “Y’all want to play a board game?—“ Mumbles and whines from Malon greeted her as she laughed, seeing the childish face Jason did. “Come on! I’ll search for one!” They couldn’t complain as she already went to search for it. For the rest of the day, the small family played games and joked with each other, having a pretty nice day. It was the first time MJ had celebrated her birthday with Jason and Malon, but she could consider it the best birthday she ever had…

#randomly a fan #jason voorheese #jasonvoorhees

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jackofalltrades17 · 3 years ago

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I know I usually post dumb shit but occasionally a serious thought does float into my head. Tonight we're discussing religion, specifically Christianity because that's what I've grown up with pretty much since I was born. Like serious Christians. Go to church every Sunday and Wednesday night. Pray before every meal. Bring up Jesus in every conversation. If anything remotely good happens say "That's the Lord working through us." or if someone dies "They're up there walking with Jesus now." Alcohol is horrible. No Cursing. Live. Laugh. Love. Don't forget your manners. Respect the elderly.

But I've come to realize that that may be a little wrong. I don't think I believe in *Christian* God anymore. I think there is a good possibility that there is a God. Because all the atoms at the beginning had to come from somewhere. One of the laws of physics is energy can not be created nor destroyed but how did the energy come to be in the first place.

However I don't think it like the involved god that Christianity paints. I think it'd be more equivalent to a person playing a simulation/sandbox game where they start everything off. Make up a few rules put some people in a specific spot and watch it run, making little adjustments along the way. I don't think that god knows exactly what's going to happen. Or it's set in stone. I think everyone's future is constantly changing. Every choice you make changes your's and everyone around you's future. That's why we are able to make choices. Frankly I'm not even sure god is a man. God could just be a cosmic being with no gender or a cosmic being with all genders.

I think the main thing is I don't believe in the Bible. Example: the parameters for Noah's Ark are so exact and it seems so incredible ridiculous that they stayed the same throughout thousands of years. And if this can be false than what else could be. 2nd example: In one particular verse of the Bible in which it says something along the lines of "homosexuality is bad" (obviously that is not a direct quote) but it was previously along the lines of "a man shall not sleep with a child" basically saying "don't be a pedo" but was changed sometime in the last 500 years due to selfish reasons because humanity is the worst. I'm not saying that all miracles were fake. But a few of them can be explained with knowledge that had not been discovered until modern times. The Red Sea parting for instance. Researchers/experts have speculated that they actually crossed the Reed Sea. And there is a special phenomenon involving high-speed winds. Or the water to wine thing. Plexiglass. But seriously there is a thing called the assassin's tea pot where you can pour two different liquids through the same tea pot. It functions differently than what it would take to do a whole barrel of it but it would be possible.

Also not exactly debunking anything for whatever but there is no way that Heaven is a good thing. Heaven according to the Bible is a perfect place without pain. With gold roads and basically everyone gets there own mansion. That's sounds like a hella boring world. No releases of dopamine to relieve stress because there is no stress. You don't get the sweet release of sitting down after a long day because there is no pain. And living becomes dull. You don't see those things in life because they are a natural function. It's reminiscent of the ending of the Good Place.

I also want you to know that I was watching Family Guy while writing this so maybe don't take me too seriously. What do I know I'm only 15. Also take everything I've said with a grain of salt because most of my information I just remember from episodes on Discovery and stuff I somehow remember from Tumblr posts screen shotted and posted to Pinterest back from the days when I was only allowed to be on Pinterest. I also am aware that some people couldn't give a shit about religion and have already discovered this or never believed this.

Sorry for the rant I just really needed to vent to somebody.

#deconstruction #religion #Christian #Christianity #god #Jesus #Heaven #heaven and hell #noah's ark #long post

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years ago

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Please oh please continue the Noir series where Claire was being blackmailed to hurt Jamie and Jamie took Claire away. (I don't remember the title)

Mod Note: Noir was on my personal account, Anon. Thank you so much for the ask - I am planning on writing another couple of chapters to finish it off, but have something from Imagine instead as a compromise for the moment. I hope that’s okay

Persuasion: A Show!Verse Alternative Wedding: Part 2.

(Part One: HERE)

Pulling the thick sheets up around me I let my leg fall free of the tight bindings. The fresh air against my skin felt good and the exposed flesh of my back prickled at the sensation of being watched. I’d known the second Jamie had entered the room, his soft footfalls alerting me immediately. He was quiet, but not quite quiet enough.

“Sorry, Claire…” he sighed, shifting the hair away from my forehead as he knelt beside the bed, “I didna mean to disturb ye.”

“Come to bed, Jamie,” I returned, a hint of pleading in my tone.

Having not yet removed my ring, my subconscious castigating me for even contemplating it, I knew it was unlikely he’d submit to my request...but I had to try. Feeling needy, I rolled my hips in askance, curling my toes and unclenching them before blinking my eyes open.

The room was dark, the candles having extinguished themselves hours ago. I could already see, even through the inky blackness, the hesitation in his gaze. He’d seen me, of that I was sure. The tantalizing way my back had arched as I’d pressed the blankets harder between my thighs. Something about my half nude form called to him, but at the last minute he’d taken stock of the thick gold still neatly nestled on my left ring finger and awareness had re-dawn on him.

Murtagh was right.

“Nay, Sassenach,” licking his lips with one swift sweep of his tongue, he blinked rapidly as if suddenly realising what he was giving up but then his irises dulled in acceptance. “I just didna wish ye to think me a bad husband, but I have errands. Tomorrow,” he smiled, briefly, the corners of his lips twitching even though it didn’t illuminate his eyes, “maybe.”

He’d risen, trudged to the door and left before I even had chance to reply, the scent of him lingering for just a second as I sighed heavily. Pulling the duvet back over myself once more, I burrowed deep into the mattress, huffing out a deep breath in annoyance.

“Maybe, indeed.” I mumbled, feeling the pinch of rejection as if he’d physically wounded me with his words. He and I both knew that our marital bed would remain empty on his side for as long as I remained committed to Frank, his chivalry assured me of that.

Dougal, having lost patience with our miniature honeymoon period, had declared the next day that we would be on the move soon. Slapping his well worn saddle onto the railings outside the stables, he whipped some crisp land deeds out of his pockets and began pointing at the details with semi-bored stabs, now ignoring me once more as he set about barking orders at Ned, Rupert and Angus.

Hiking my skirts, I stomped away, irritation coursing through me at the idea of losing the one modicum of privacy I’d managed to cling to in this ridiculous situation. If we were to leave soon, I might never secure Jamie’s presence in my bed. My heart pounded at the mere thought, sweat gathering on my brow as I imagined our lives back on the road -- sleeping under the stars again with no room for intimacy.

“Fuck.” The curse left my mouth without me even prompting it, a natural result of my foul mood.

“Ye ken what ye have to do, mistress,” Murtagh piped up from behind me, causing me to jump as my heart spluttered in my chest.

Chuckling lowly, he twisted his knife into the pristine bark of the closest tree, a smug grin plastered across his heavily bearded face. “Two days until Dougal moves out, I’d think wisely about yer long term decisions.”

“Is that a threat?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I levelled my most dangerous stare, an attempt to intimidate the dour Scot. “Because if it is, you know where you can shove it!”

Murtagh’s face became serious in an instant, the smile falling from his lips as the whiskers that covered his cheeks regained their usual harsh set. “I dinna make threats, Mrs. Fraser,” he growled, spitting onto the ground at my feet with near-perfect aim.

I flinched. My eyes watering as I tried to keep my head up and will the angry tears away.

“Ye ken it yerself, don’t ye? Once we’re back on the road, Jamie’s mind will be made up. If you want his protection alone, keep yer ring on, lass, because wi’out removing it...that’s all he’ll be gi’ing ye.”

Stabbing the blade forcefully into the trunk, Murtagh twisted the tip, leaving it jammed into the tree and quivering in the breeze as he stomped back off in the direction of the rest of the party.

“Shit, double damn and SHIT again.” I sighed, rather loudly, my tone sounding more depressed and anguished than enraged.

He was right. I did know that. Given that we would soon have no time for our relationship to grow, Jamie would stand by his word but he would also resign himself to the fact that I didn’t feel strongly enough for him for me to remove my --supposedly dead-- husband's ring.

*But he isn’t dead*, I reminded myself, *and you did once wish to return home…*

I did. I had.

But now; now I craved -no- lusted, pined even, for Jamie. His brand of intimacy had roused me in a way Frank never had and that fire burned ever brighter in the absence of his presence in our rented bed.

Kicking the decaying leaves at my feet, I turned on my heel and returned myself to the tiny village, my mind no more made up than when I’d ventured out here away from the dull whine of Dougal and the others.

Ned watched as I emerged, my cheeks likely pinked from the brisk afternoon winds. Murtagh didn’t bother to turn, but I watched as he scrubbed harder at his boots, flicking the dry mud from the base of them in such fervour that I imagined it was me he envisioned caked to the bottom of them, and not the filth from the forest.

“I’ll just be--” I began, my voice trailing off as I realised none of them were really paying me anymore attention, all engaged in their tasks once more and not in the least worried as to my afternoon activities.

Hiding myself away, I decided a little time to myself couldn’t do any harm and snuck off back upstairs. Murtagh’s face was imprinted on my eyelids though, the disdain wrapped in pity plastered across his face.

Out of sight, out of mind, I hoped as I closed the door softly behind me.

Pacing the floor, I twisted and turned Frank’s ring up and down my finger - letting it reach the knuckle before pushing it down once more.

Frank’s ring, I realised, belatedly. Ever since my new marriage I’d stopped thinking of it as mine. The metal -warm beneath my touch- had since dulled, the shine replaced with a cloudy haze that seemed to mirror my change in feeling.

The ring, Frank’s --not mine, and certainly not *ours*-- appeared to move easily now, too. Falling from my finger with such ease that I could have sworn it was tighter before. True, I’d lost weight here, the allure of processed sugar and tinned food obviously decreased in my diet, leading me to a more svelte look. But I hadn’t noticed such a stark change until now.

Eyes finally opened, I glanced out of the window, down onto the tavern courtyard, catching Jamie just as he waltzed up to Angus, his horse plodding slowly behind him. The sun caught his hair, the light tinge of blonde alighting within his auburn locks as he joked with his comrades, a sort of suppressed sadness in his actions. He was tired, of that I could tell. His movements almost shaky as he tried to conceal the fatigue.

Your fault, my brain heckled.

Yes, my fault indeed.

Decision made, I slipped off the band, my heart falling for just a minute as I realised the momentous decision I was about to make, the committment I was about to pursue. Tucking the wedding ring into the side of my medical bag, I made sure it wasn’t lost forever, the curls falling from my clips as I safely hid it away beside my herbs.

Now all I needed to do was wait and hope. Sliding the laces from the back of my bodice, I let out my corset, breathing in a rather large breath as my stomach fluttered with nerves. This somehow felt more pivotal than myself and Jamie’s actual wedding and the idea of further rejection suddenly became incredibly real.

What if Murtagh was misguided? What if Jamie simply meant to protect me and harboured no deeper feeling?

*Then you’ll push harder to return to Craigh Na Dunn*, my subconscious whispered, my internal monologue trying to soothe my now-frayed nerves.

But I knew now, as I had the previous evening, and the evening before that, the heinous lie that was. If he rejected me now, even with proof that he didn’t love me in return, there was no retuning to the future.

“No going back, Beauchamp!” I sighed to myself, stripping down to my shift and ditching my skirts onto the only wooden chair in the spacious room. My hands shook minutely as i turned to face the dresser, desperate ardour flowing through me as I sat on the stool and plucked the remaining pins from my hair, letting all of my curls drop around my shoulders as I looked myself in the eye. “Time to go hard, because there is no going home.”

#Anonymous #;Mod MBD #Persuasion #Jamie X Claire #Alt Wedding AU

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davidmann95 · 7 years ago

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I don't want to sound too, ah, plebian, but can you explain the meta-plot of Multiversity? The Just, SoS, etc, were all very fun, but the Ultraa Comics stuff went over my head.

Not at all! Multiversity was weird as hell,and in terms of getting what the point of it all was, it doesn’t help that mostof the one-shots only tie in thematically (aside from the basic idea that TheGentry are corrupting these worlds) rather than how in Seven Soldiers everythingcomes back plotwise for the finale. There’s breadcrumbs - a piece of Monitormythology here, a suggestion that comics reflect other events in the multiversethere - but by and large, the one-shots serve to lend context and emotionalweight rather than directly inform the larger plot with Uotan, Superman and therest of the heroes.

Iwrote about Multiversity before, always with the intent ofdoing a follow-up piece going more into the individual issues, so here’s mefinally getting around to that now that it’s been, oh my god, two years sincethe series wrapped; you’ll probably want to read that article first, since mywhole “Multiversity is about time” thesis from that is the centerof pretty much everything I’m going to talk about here, especially at the end.I’d also recommend David Uzumeri’sannotations for Comics Alliance of all the chapters up through Mastermen,and @charlotteofoz‘s excellent piece on UltraComics, as well as the piles upon piles of other great writing aboutthis book out there.

Continued below; this is a long one, obviously with plentyof spoilers.

Since Multiversity #1 is one half of alarger story that’s bookended later (it’s not even the first chronologically,since a couple characters from The Just are already at theHouse of Heroes), let’s start with SOS. More than each issue as anartifact unto itself - this thing would be even longer if I went into that, andthe annotations I linked to I think already do a more than satisfactory job inthat regard - I want to talk about these in terms of how they inform the whole,and Society of Super-Heroes sets down the template in twomajor ways in that regard:

1. Each of these stories correspond to a given decade of thehistory of the superhero - in this case, in spite of the 1920′s trappings, thatthey’re going through the parallel universe equivalent of World War II and thepresence of a number of Golden Age figures suggests this is meant to be read asrepresenting the pulpy heroes of the 1940s.

2. Each of the chapters of Multiversity correspondto a classic story published by DC Comics, but grotesquely inverted (similarly to how each arc of his Batman and Robin mirrored a classic Batman story, ending with Batman and Robin Must Die! inverting his own Batman R.I.P.); here, thefirst standalone installment of this latest multiversal threat is naturallymodeled after the original “Crisis on Earth-One!/Crisis on Earth-Two!”JLA/JSA crossover, except this time when the two parallel Earths make firstcontact (through the same crystal ball as in that original story no less), itleads to war.

And much more than a simple categorization like theabove, SOS introduces the major shared conceit of theone-shots: the degeneration of the superhero as a concept through theintroduction of time to the proceedings. In this case through wartime, as thepromise of the birth of the superhero at the beginning of the story is undoneby 5 years of hell, grinding our leads’ ethics down to the level ofkill-or-be-killed, with Doc Fate remorselessly torturing a man for information(in what I have to read as a reference to Doc Savage’s “Crime College”),Immortal Man reverting to his most primal roots, and Atom literally beating anopponent to death. It’s the most straightforward “well, in the real worldsuperheroes couldn’t be that moral” deconstruction possible, but framed as theconsequence of conditions the superhero wasn’t built to deal with rather thanan inherent failing. In that regard, while I don’t think Multiversity wastypically much influenced by the then-present goings-on at DC in the comics orelsewhere - Morrison’s said more than once that most of the issues werescripted years before the art was done, minus some tweaks here and there - it’shard not to read this issue as at least something of a reaction to the New 52and particularly Man of Steel, especially with lines like “Doc.I just killed a man. I–I brought you some time, but myprinciples–I–I killed a man.” And that fall is the direct, literalvictory of the villains of the story.

For The Just, while it owes a debt to All-StarSuperman since itwas originally planned as a spinoff of that book - an acknowledgeddebt given the appearance of Klyzyzk Klzntplkz’s Hyperpoon, even though thecircumstances of Superman’s death in here preclude this being set in that world- in spirit it’s a broken mirror to Kingdom Come and theglitzy, too-cool, airbrushed ‘90s milieu it inhabited, hence the legacy heroesand Ben Oliver’s photoreal style being notably similar to Alex Ross’s here.It’s Kingdom Come’s party scene, except for 40 pages, andSuperman never comes in to whip them all into shape. They just keep drinkingand dancing as the world burns.

In truth though, this isn’t really a comic about legacycharacters; they’re a shorthand for time having passed and the superheroicidentities having degraded over time, but it’s no coincidence that this is theonly issue to actually have characters going by Superman and Batman as theunambiguous leads (or that Superman’s a useless dope, while Batman’s the onlycompetent one but also infinitely more ridiculous and transparent than hethinks), because it’s about the DCU specifically as a decades-long construct atthis moment in history. If most of the other issues are about time damaging thesuperhero through inevitable contact with real-world morality, this shows thepainful endgame of spinning their wheels without end: they become heartlesscopies of copies of themselves, all their battles knowing pantomime, muggingfor the cameras even as there’s nothing left for them to do that anyone caresabout, least of all themselves as they question why anyone even buys comicsanymore. The Just is the CW’s DC Universe twenty years fromnow, where most of the audience has left and the budget has been slashed tonothing but just enough viewers are sticking around that they have to continueit somehow, so it devolves into old-fashioned CW soap opera bullshit, becausehow that’d apply to these characters is all they have left in their arsenal:Superman’s angry that Batman’s fucking Lex Luthor, but will they ever admitthey just want to fuck each other instead, readers? Tune innext month to find how out we’ll delay giving the answer!

Then we hop over to 1980s political horror and theinevitable shadow of Watchmen, in…maybe the best, or at leastmost remarkably-constructed single issue of a superhero comic of thedecade? Pax Americana certainly felt like it when it came out.In any case, our main concern here is another consequence of time as applied tosuperheroes: the desire, as embodied by President Harley, to force them to makesense in the real world in tune with an ‘adult’ perspective. In an attempt torectify his guilt for accidentally killing his father, the first superhero andthe only morally pure one - his entry to the murky world of adulthood, assignified by the second-to-last line “Remember? That was when it allmade sense, right?” - he wants to reconfigure superheroes into virtuous,regimented tools of the government, with himself as the greatest hero of all asa resurrected American Christ to lead the world into a new golden age.

It fails horrifically of course, because his worldview - theworldview shared by Captain Adam, and Doctor Manhattan, and Watchmen itself- is by Morrison’s perspective inherently flawed, incapable as it is ofperceiving the repercussions and chaos of truly ‘real’ humans. Take notewhen Harley’s consciousness expands that at first it fragments into personal,evocative, visceral imagery, but when that expanding holistic view of theuniverse is inevitably too much to hold all at once, it simplifies back downinto simpler symbols, shapes and geometric solids, much in line with howMorrison spoke of Watchmen’s structure in Supergods asconfining and inflexible. Where Ozymandias’s plan to save the world went offwithout a hitch - at least until it lead to him putting on a robe andkidnapping Tim Drake, as continued this November at a comic book store near youin Doomsday Clock* - Harley’s fails catastrophically, because inthe ‘real’ world superheroes wouldn’t obey genre and narrative conventionsto the extent the likes of Nite Owl and Rorschach still do, living as they doin a world that still has flying Owl-cars and villainous master plans; anyonewho put on a mask to fight crime would be violent, callous assholes of thedistinctly uncharismatic variety whose grand schemes fall apart, whoseinvestigations never reach resolution, and who end up inevitably co-opted andrendered obsolete. In the end, as we saw with Peacemaker defending Bush toHarley’s barely-restrained glee, and the V.P. lecturing about selling childhooddreams back to adults, underneath all his mature aspirations Harley just wantedto find a way to force the world to let him love something the way he did whenhe was a boy…but as Adam reminds us, when you take it all apart to thatextent, there’s not really much left, and even if you put it all back togetherit can never be the same.

* I maintain it’s a very real possibility that PaxAmericana, meant to close the book on Watchmen once andfor all, was a part of what led to its revival; that someone in DC caught windof it during production and figured “oh man, Watchmen’s aboutto get some play again, now’s the time to do something with it.”

That brings us to Thunderworld Adventures’ 1950scolor TV world of retro adventure, the logical retort to the rest of Multiversity andthe one it needed to be complete: if time destroys superheroes, why not justturn back the clock and make it like it was when you were a kid? But unlike itscounterpart comic All-Star Superman (Morrison mentionedrepeatedly in interviews that this was him giving Captain Marvel the All-Star approach,and the structure - of Marvel facing off against counterparts of himself in theface of his inevitable doom, with his scientist arch-enemy finding a way togive himself his powers - is more than a little familiar), this isn’t anattempt to recapture the best of those elements in a modern context, but a purenostalgia exercise.

Yes, that means a happy ending, and clever fun, and a nicemoral about the self-destructive nature of evil. But from a modern perspective, thatalso means the mad scientist experimenting on his own children, pointing outthat Billy Batson is an exploited youth not subject to child labor laws,Captain Marvel Jr. winning a fight by preying on a bullied girls’ insecuritiesabout her appearance with a smile on his face, and a monstrous Sivana coming ahair’s breadth away from graphically murdering Billy. Morrison mentioned ininterviews that deep down Thunderworld had signs of the sameugliness as the other issues, and it’s true; even if we go back to the good olddays, we’ve still been informed by our adult experiences, and it’s just notgoing to look quite the same. No matter how much we might want to go retreatinto a neverending Binder/Beck fairyland, we’ve seen the leering, muzzled faceof the serial-killing, likely pedophilic Hannibal Sivana. Not that it’ssecretly as cynical of its subject matter in the same way as the others - thewizard Shazam reminds us that there is something beautiful at the heart of themagic, and that we lose it the more we try and replace it with something coolerand colder - but it’s pretty on-the-nose that Sivana’s ultimate plan is to getpeople to buy years on the clock to waste, essentially selling their old livesback to them piecemeal. In the end, when Captain Marvel’s faced with theprophecy of a darker, more morally challenging threat, he doesn’t confront it,but tosses it in the trash to fly away with a picture-perfect smile. But weknow the truth: he has to. There is no such thing as timelessness, andattempting to capture it will ultimately show cracks in the foundation nomatter what.

Moving into the Guidebook’s extended homageto “The Flash of Two Worlds!” - one with a distinctly 60s feel, between all theKirby getting thrown around and the build-up of DC mythology - we get to seewhat comic book time actually looks like from the outside (via the perspectiveKamandi, from a world where time has truly passed to the tune of anapocalypse), with Fox and Infantino’s simple tale of a costumed crimefightermeeting his own childhood storybook hero metastasizing into a time-shatteringhistory of reboots and retcons and parallel worlds, and two wildly differentproducts of that process coming face-to-face. After Thunderworld andthe finale it’s the most openly optimistic of the bunch, with the irrepressiblejoy Morrison clearly takes in all the nerd arcana and Lightray’s assertion thatlight will conquer darkness in the end, but it also ends with a Justice League,reduced conceptually to animatronic cartoons of themselves, dying andresurrecting in one manufactured Crisis after another for all eternity.

Hitting Mastermen, this is probably the mostdiscounted of the bunch, especially given it reads the most like it’sunfinished. However, I’d say it’s a pretty complete tragedy (especially thanksto @globegander‘s essayon it as a spiritual adaptation of Der Ring des Nibelungen),and much like with The Just - the other least-loved of theseries - the trappings on display are largely a way of facilitating what it’s talkingabout. It’s the story of a nation in power of men with pipes looking overnuclear families with dogs, where rich white boys complain that they shouldn’tbe held responsible for the actions of their ancestors, newscasters refer togenocides perpetrated by their nation within the last century as “theethnic and ideological purges of the Hitler era”, and theretaliation against them by terrorist insurgents is from a nation they broughttheir war to. It’s very much a story of America (2000s America specifically, inline with the decade parallels in play), and while Overman still wants to makeeverything right because he’s Superman, unlike its counterpart in Superman:Red Son which shows him managing to redeem himself from similarcircumstances to some extent, Mastermen makes no bones aboutthe fact that he is damned, utterly and irrevocably, just as aconsequence of being born into this society. Time here has destroyed thesuperhero by way of conformity, with well-meaning champions of truth, justice,and the Nazi way as barely-witting defenders of a corrupted status quo,unquestionably incapable of transcending what they’ve become. Hence whySuperman already exists as a comic when Hitler learns of Kal-L, the symbolismof two Jewish kids in the depression co-opted by the powers-that-be as thefascistic representative of amoral nationalistic interests, corrupting whatSuperman is supposed to stand for until even his attempts at rectifying thingscan only compound the problem. In essence, it’s the darkest possiblecontinuation of The Curse of Superman from Morrison and GeneHa’s Action Comics #9 - and it comes to the same conclusion ofwhat it takes to fight back in the finale later on.

Ultra Comics - both the comic and the character,insomuch as there’s any meaningful division between the two - is the anti-FlexMentallo, down to the point of mimicking its four-act structure of thehistory of the superhero via montage, only replacing a ‘Renaissance’ asMorrison put it following comics ‘Dark Age’ with further brutality andadolescent defensiveness. It’s the horrors of every other chapter rolled intoone: Ultra’s an innocent superhero from circumstances that become moreunsettling the more you think about them, pre-packaged with his own ridiculousbackstory and history, who goes on an adventure forcing him to realize themorality his world is built on is impossible and defined by society rather thanan objective moral code, and he’s trapped forever in the violent structure ofhis story, consigned to repeat his life forever until it loses all meaning. Itis, as Charlotte Finn put it in her analysis, a killer bullet to the idea ofthe superheroes, hence why it’s a horrific cursed contaminant across themultiverse: in our world it’s just a depressing comic, but to a superhero it’sirrefutable evidence that their entire existence is meaningless, time almostliterally corroding him throughout the issue as he moves from optimisticsuperhero to cynical super-agent to old and realizing it was all for nothing todead. Even our own world is threatened after all, with the suggestion that allthe uplifting Flex Mentallo meta-stories and 70s Starlin-stylecosmic headtrip consciousness expansion comics that Morrison’s made so much ofhis own bread and butter on are as compromised as the rest of the genre.Incapable of saving us in the face of a larger culture preaching the embrace ofnihilism and a doomed tomorrow when the only thing a terrifying number ofreaders have gained from the message is a desire to complain about writers “rapingmy wallet” - and that without that ability to inspire, all comics, all fictionitself can do, is steal our time and rush us all the faster into thegrave courtesy of the Oblivion Machine.

With the bookends, there’s fairly little to say I didn’t inthe original article I linked to above - i.e. that it flips the premise of timeinto a positive, showing that rather than using it to spin the wheels of thesuperhero genre in perpetuity until it devours itself through exhaustion orcontact with elements it can’t bear, or framing it as something to bedisregarded in spite of the consequences, it can be used to push things forwardinto more diverse and fruitful territory (hence not only the premise of theseries, but Multiversity sounding similar to Diversity), coming up with new andbetter stories. Much as Morrison is historically onboard with pulp heroes andlegacy heroes indicative of expansive superhero universes and structurallycomplex comics and retro comics and American superheroes and meta superheroes,there’s a difference between coming up with new stories in those contexts, andrerunning the old ones over and over again, which is probably why each of thosecomics, like I said matches up with a previous decade and comic, including someof his own, finally spinning here into the 2010s and DC’s own Crisis cycle.

While the first half of the bookend is in Morrison’s ownwords him doing himself to the point of parody - the self-insert character, theMonitor mythology, the weird villains yelling about conformity, thecomics-talking-about-comics, running into alternate company equivalents as apossible commentary on the state of the industry, etc. - the second isexplicitly the analogue to Morrison using his ‘corruption’ of contact with thedarkness and perpetuation of the neverending story for a paycheck to introducethe forces of the absurd, impossible and unexpected, i.e. the New, to defeat ahomogenizing, corruptive force designed to make everything the same and bleakto the point of literally forcing the Multiverse to relive the same Crisis overand over again, i.e. More Of The Same. It’s a slight twist on his typical Youngvs. Old/Children vs. Parents concerns (as best exemplified in his DC work in Seven Soldiers of Victory), but in theend, all of this is Morrison talking about something very, very simple: thatsuperheroes can absolutely be broken, but there’s a chance to save them andmake them something good and true again that might be able to reach us,literally by the end of the book, and it’s not by rerunning the same oldstories into the ground and unthinking conformity, but through doing new anddiverse and exciting things with them to inspire us in new ways. It’s Action Comics #9 as a 400-page epic.

I’m pretty sure that’s what Multiversity is about.

#Multiversity #Grant Morrison #DC Comics #Analysis #Opinion

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skippyjo94 · 6 years ago

Text

Something Special

Albus Dumbledore was no stranger to special witches and wizards. He had encountered more than his fair share in his life.

His entire family was talented for one thing. His brother, outstanding. His father, insanely powerful. His mother? Never outright showed it, but the ease with which Albus witnessed her performing any of her magical affairs, he had a hunch she may be more powerful than them all.

His sister hadn't had the chance to be anything special, rest her soul. But he knew in his heart, she would've put them all to shame.

Albus himself, of course, was nothing to scoff at. He had always been a natural at all things magical. He had watched other children struggle to learn things that came to him effortlessly. It had always bothered him when he could watch and see what was wrong, what his classmates were missing. He was always one to jump in and help.

At times, he admits, he may have seemed to be a know it all. He truly just wanted to help. He grew to understand, through life experience, that he may have been less than gracious in how those handled situations.

Everything that happened with his sister and his father and then his mother made him a bit resentful of it all. His natural ability had gotten him exactly nowhere. He still had to return home and do all the things everyone else does, be less, even, than what everyone else is.

He met Gellert Grindelwald. He was another outstanding wizard, both in the conventional way and a way all his own. They did their thing. Two wonderful wizards, making plans to make a better world. One that corrects the injustices Albus has faced in his life.

Until it happened. And then they couldn't anymore. Albus couldn't. He wasn't the same person he had been.

He understood. He understood all the wrong, all the misconceptions they were under, all the unfairness and lies. It was like the glass shattered. Suddenly he saw what this new world would be. What it would turn into.

It wasn't what Albus wanted.

He had always loved seeing witches and wizards excel. He had always been one to excel himself, so he knew how elated they were when they got that new spell finally. When they were told their potion passed with flying colors.

Grindelwald's world didn't allow for that. It didn't allow for people to succeed that way. For the peers he had helped, even though he hadn't been too gentle with their feelings he now knew, to have the chance to get there too.

Gellert's world, it only allowed for the exceptional to succeed.

Albus now recognized the error in this way of thinking. He had always known, but now it was all he could see.

They were all exceptional. Every witch who was the best at transfiguration, who puts her whole class to shame. Every wizard who took three attempts to make the perfect sleeping draught because he was distracted from a lack of sleep the night before. Every muggleborn child who got their Hogwarts letter at 11, and even their younger sibling that didn't.

Not a single one of them was unexceptional.

Even his brother, who people often see as exactly that, unexceptional

And just like that, he knew there was more he had to do. He had to be the one to make them see just how much potential they had, each and every one of them. How exceptional they could be. And he had to help them make sure they got there.

Some years down the road he had become a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He liked to think his students benefitted from his efforts in teaching. He liked to think his students enjoyed having him as a teacher.

He made an effort with each and every student that came through his doors, to make sure they felt confident and as if they were one of the brightest students he had ever met. It was hardly a chore. They were each amazing in their own right.

Every year there was that one child that stood out above the rest. Usually a student to whom magic seemed to come especially naturally. They were usually much like him in this way.

He always strove to set them on the right path. He had been dangerously close to making an irrevocable move down a path he would rather not accept existed most days.

He made sure he could use his own experience to stop others like him, others whose horses were maybe too high some days. To ensure they knew it was alright to stay a bit lower to the ground, lest they stop seeing where their hooves fell.

The one student this year was peculiar. Usually Dumbledore could pick out his pivotal pupil, as Professor McGonagall jokingly called them, within the first week of classes. This year was different. No one seemed to stand out to him really. They were all exceptional, but none that truly caught his focus.

Until about halfway to the Christmas holiday. It was during a lesson with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years. There were only about eighteen students in the class, one of the smaller groups, with several out with whatever illness was ransacking the castle.

The lesson was on how to fend off various beasts, generally a popular subject among the younger students. Especially those born from Muggles, having grown up without the knowledge that all sorts of magical creatures they've heard about are far from the myths they were raised to believe.

One such beast was under discussion, what it may do upon catching a human, how to defend against it. Not always the most palatable of discussions but a necessity none the less.

Rarely did Dumbledore have a student disagree with his teachings. A small boy, reddish-brown hair a mess atop his pale, slightly freckled face, spoke up.

"Why wouldn't you just distract it? Or get its attention and make it trust you?"

The innocence in his voice was striking. Dumbledore suddenly realized he had never heard this student speak before.

"There are times that is a viable option of course," Dumbledore began, thinking through his answer carefully. "Other times, though, there may not be a choice. Of course we never want to unnecessarily harm a creature, but in life there may be situations where they don't leave you with another option."

He hated to put that thought into their minds, especially that boy who asked the question, innocent as he seemed. "I do sincerely hope none of you are ever in a place to make such a call."

The boy seemed to have more to still be displeased with the answer but chose to leave it at that. Dumbledore was grateful, he didn't want to see a more displeased look on the young boy's face.

Yes, this boy was something special.

It went on like this for the rest of the semester. Newt, he discovered, Newt Scamander was the boy's name. He had an older brother, Theseus, who was quite talented at defensive enchantments.

The boy was very quiet, studious, though without any real desire to follow the rules it seemed. He was very intelligent, and exceedingly awkward. He seemed to light up whenever the lesson or conversation turned to any kind of magical creatures.

Newt had a wealth of knowledge on magical creatures, rivaling that of any upperclassman. He knew things even some of the teachers only vaguely remembered hearing, obviously stemming from his own research.

It was clear he was entranced by creatures, not just for their uses, but for their well-being above all else.

One day Dumbledore came across Newt out on the grounds. He appeared to be speaking rather intimately to a tree.

Not wanting to startle the boy, Dumbledore stopped a safe distance away and watched. What was happening soon became apparent.

The boy stuck out his hand, slowly, no sudden movements and continued speaking softly to the tree. His words were too quiet to be heard from a distance, but his actions seemed to be encouraging.

Just as Dumbledore was about to walk away, write it off as one of the boy's many peculiarities, a small movement caught his eye.

It could have been the wind, but something about it made him stay. A while later, long past when Dumbledore's own patience would have worn thin, a tiny twig seemed to inch out of a hole in the bark.

A Bowtruckle. And then another.

A couple of very tiny sticks with eyes are inspecting the offered hand very cautiously. They must decide the boy is safe as they crawl into the open palm.

Dumbledore starts walking forward carefully, making enough noise to announce his presence but not enough to seem threatening.

Newt never looks away from the treasure in his palm. He stays facing the tree, keeping the bowtruckles close to their home to ensure they feel safe. He is a new person after all, they mustn't feel separated from their home.

"What have you found there, Mr. Scamander?" Dumbledore kept his tone light so as not to startle the peaceful moment.

"Not what. Who. There is a Bowtruckle family living in this tree. They only live in wand wood trees so I've never seen one in person before." Rarely had anyone sounded as happy as Newt.

"I've never tried to get one to come out. How did you manage it?" Dumbledore knew plenty about Bowtruckles, but he was eager to learn more about his boy.

"Well, they aren't very trusting. They have to feel safe to leave their home, which means they have to recognize you." Newt recited the facts as though they were second nature. "There is very little information on them as a whole because they so rarely leave their trees. I wanted to learn more about them, so I've been coming here for the last couple of months and talking to them."

Dumbledore was surprised by that. "Talking to them?"

"Yes," Newt responded. "They're wonderful listeners. I come here after classes are finished, before supper. I tell them about my day, my classes. Sometimes I read to them from our books."

Dumbledore wasn't sure what to do with that. It made sense from the boy somehow.

"At first, they acted like they weren't there. They must've been frightened. Then I read them the story the knight and his dragon from our History of Magic class, and they forgot to pretend they weren't listening." Newt smiled then, proud of himself for his efforts. They had clearly paid off.

"They have never let me hold them before. They have been coming out to talk for a couple of weeks now. Well, to listen. But they're a very responsive audience." Newt looked up at Dumbledore for the first time in their exchange. His eyes were shining.

"I think they're just shy, Professor. I think they don't mind humans at all, just no one ever takes the time to get to know them, to gain their trust." Something in his expression made Dumbledore positive they weren't just talking about the Bowtruckles.

He looked down at the tiny creatures in Newt's hand, and sure enough, they were leaning into Newt's chest where he had his hand cradled, looking up at Dumbledore warily.

"I'm sure you're right Mr. Scamander. People must learn to be more patient. Not all creatures are kind, and some are more cautious of who they place their trust in." Dumbledore was amazed at how wise this young boy was. "It would do us all well to remember that. And perhaps be a bit more like that ourselves."

Newt had long since returned his gaze to the Bowtruckles tucked safely into his chest. His gaze was one of adoration, something surely reflected in Dumbledore's own gaze upon the scene.

"I think it best if I leave you to your observations now," Dumbledore said fondly. "We have yet to become acquainted and I would hate to cause them undue stress. Perhaps in time, I may earn their trust as you have, hmm?"

"Yes, of course Professor." Newt looked pleased that someone he seemed to hold in such high respect was treating his knowledge as the authority on the matter. "They really are a gentle species. They are just...misunderstood I think."

Misunderstood indeed, Dumbledore thought. "Then we must fix that at once. I believe you to be the right man for that job." Newt looked up again at the thought, hopeful at the opportunity and responsibility he had been given. "If anyone can properly understand them, I am sure it will be you."

Newt felt his face flush at the confidence in his teacher's voice. No one had ever had such unwavering faith in his abilities before.

Dumbledore turned to head back to the castle. He had only made it a few steps away when he heard the boy, barely loud enough to hear even from this small a distance, "Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore turned to look back at his surprising young pupil. "I feel as though very soon, it will be I thanking you, Mr. Scamander." He made sure to make eye contact as he said this. "Bowtruckles is just the beginning for you, I'm sure of it."

Newt looked away, uncertain what to do with the praise. "I look forward to being learning from your observations, Newt."

And with that Dumbledore was off, back to the castle, his initial destination long forgotten.

He had dealt with a great many exceptional students. Though so far, none as surprising as this boy, with no friends to speak of, but the trust of a creature thought, until now, to be notoriously coldshouldered to humans.

Yes, this boy was going far. He was destined for great things. This boy was truly something special.

#Fantastic Beasts fic #Newt Scamander #Albus Dumbledore #Young Newt Scamander #Hogwarts fic #Newt being cute

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