#so ill slowly start uploading it because why not

[emotionaloof]

*twirls hair* so theres this himbo elf that i can't stop drawing-

[miguksae]

From now on, the cycle of uploading pictures will be a bit longer.

You can probably tell why by looking at this photo.

Compared to the past, I've been under a lot of pressure to create a lot of paintings, almost all day long, trying to create dozens and dozens of paintings, partly out of love and partly because paintings are a light that masks the ugly reality for me.

However, I think this is only going to get worse and I'm not going to get any better, so I'm going to start drawing slowly over the weekend.

I've spent far too many days obsessing over and feeling pressured by the number of followers and likes I get, and it's actually decreasing my cognitive functioning and exacerbating my mental illness.

I'm going to try my best to slow down and not let the pressure and anxiety get to me.

Thanks for reading

[spumonibones]

Chasing Wings: Memoria, Chapter 18

Pairing: Xiao x Venti

First Chapter (Ao3)* ; First Chapter (Tumblr)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Lore/Story Notes

Chapter CW: None

Update Schedule: Currently on Hiatus. But!! Since the next few chapters are just softness, will be uploading them slowly. It will stop right before the chapter with a cliffhanger, so no worries about an abrupt pause without answers!

*Ao3 chapters are locked due to a shady site creating issues. Registered users can still read, but chapters will be posted on Tumblr for those who aren't. : )

***

All five yaksha had found homes offered to them by Liyue's people. Not all five warmed up immediately to the idea, but there were those who accepted the idea more readily than others. Xiao and Bosacius were the two who took the longest, Menogias and Bonanus the quickest, and Indarius somewhere in-between. The Qixing footed the bill for each area, and not all were inns. As Xiao presided primarily over the Bishui Plain and Qiongji Estuary, near him was Bonanus who guarded mostly Lisha and the Sea of Clouds. Menogias watched much of Chenyu Vale, Indarius protected Minlin, and Bosacius was often in the Chasm. 

If there was a call for help outside of their residence, it was customary to appear near but with some distance just in case. Better to be there before it was too late, just in case the local yaksha was tied up with other necessities. Increasingly, the other four were assisting Bosacius more with the Chasm. The mines that had once been quiet since the Cataclysm now carried quiet murmurings of something. An incident with a miner had almost been deadly were Bosacius not there, and even the hilichurls were starting to act strange. Thus the Electro yaksha was finding he was working with humans more, and not as free to deal with the godly fury that still lurked and threatened areas further away.

Which was part of how both Bonanus and Xiao worked in tandem, dispatching the hungry maws of a long dead beast. The miners had clutched each other, ready to die only to watch in wonder as they were saved. By not just one, but two adepti! It was practically unheard of, but was exciting all the same. “Thank you! Thank you!” The miners said, heaping praise while the two yaksha nodded awkwardly. Xiao, as he usually left before he could receive the gratitude. Bonanus, because she was confused by Xiao's lingering presence but couldn't ask with humans present. 

“You're welcome! We'll, uh, be on our way. Right?” Bonanus finally encouraged, nudging Xiao along with her. “Jueyan Karst?” She suggested in a whisper, and at the nod the two teleported away. Once the pair was safely in the seclusion of the adeptal home, she removed her mask to look quizzically at the other. “It's just us now. Is everything okay?” She couldn't think of any other reason why he wanted to speak with her. Something had to be wrong, and her mind was racing with possibilities. As he removed his own mask, visage riddled with hesitancy and uncertainties her concern skyrocketed. 

Whoever did this to her little brother would suffer her claws! 

“You… Spend a lot of time with Venti, right?” Xiao asked, apprehension in his voice. 

Correction: anyone except Venti would suffer her claws. The protective edge eased up from sharp to blunt, softened by curiosity and understanding that whatever happened, ill-intent wasn't involved. “Not as much as you, but… Well, it's actually mostly time with father.” Bonanus admitted, clasping her hands behind her back and giving an apologetic smile. “Why?”

“I don't. Know what I can give him.” Xiao said, and immediately frowned at his word choice. But he didn't know how else to say what he meant, and stood there in a tense, awkward silence as his lips pressed tightly closed. 

“Oh. Is his birthday soon? Humans celebrate those, right?” Bonanus inquired, trying to make sense of the why. Gifts were easier to give if one knew the reason behind it. “Or do you just want to give him gifts?”

“No, that's not.” Xiao sucked in a shaky breath, running fingers through his hair only to pause as digits caught in tangles. “I just. He's so… He does so much for me. And all I do is what Mo-, sorry, Zhongli asked me to do. It feels like he's giving everything, and all I'm doing is taking. I want him to feel the way he makes me feel.” More had left his mouth than he cared for, but there was no retracting what he said or erasing Bonanus’ memory he said it. Could only look away, ears red, while she was grinning from ear to ear at him. Leaning forwards, taking tiny steps closer and closer. 

“Awe, my Little Bird is in lo-”

“Please.” Xiao interrupted her, his entire face turning red while his heart raced. He didn't know if that was what he was feeling, only knew how overwhelming the sensation was. “I just. Want to do something for him. To do more for him. Can you… Help me?” 

“...Hmm.” Bonanus hummed, eyeing him thoughtfully before pulling away from him. Allowed him space to calm down, and to stop teasing him. For now. Large clawed hands drummed thoughtfully upon her chin and cheek, larger than her face yet careful to never touch her eyes. “Give him things you find that make you think of him? So he knows he's on your mind? And spending time with him.” She suggested. “Though Menogias might be more helpful than me.”

“He'll ask for details.” Xiao explained, and she immediately nodded in understanding. “...Do you really think… Spending more time with him is doing something for him? That just sounds like doing something for me.” He murmured, a frown once more on his face as his brows weaved into confusion. 

“If you enjoy being around him, why wouldn't he enjoy being around you?” Bonanus inquired, eyes innocent and clear. “I've seen how he gets around you. He's happy. The way he smiles at you is super different from when he smiles at me. I'd even bet you a dream Venti would be happy to have you just relaxing with him, not even talking or doing anything. Just you being there. You know. Spending time together.” She suggested, once more close enough to nudge him. It was odd. This was the first time they had touched in centuries, and yet… The playful nudge was comforting, as if this was the most recent in a long line of such actions. 

“...A dream, huh.” Xiao wondered, glancing up at her as she simply grinned. 

“I'll even make it a sweet dream, if I'm wrong. But I know I'm right.” Bonanus laughed. “I'll get you almond tofu as a consolation prize once you figure that out.”

...

...

...

As Venti slept, a memory filterer through into his dreams. Of when he was still trapped with that nun in the unknown place, several days in. Or he assumed as much, the passage of time had been unclear without access to clocks or the outside. Venti knew he had his share of unreliable sleep, at least. No one he interacted with ever touched him, but there was also no safety with his circumstances, either. When any one them entered his room, he played along because everyone was more amicable that way. When alone, he was trying to remember, to plan, to make sense of his situation. It all started with a mirror. There was space in his room to change, complete with a folding screen to change behind, a dresser, and a full-length mirror. All the items were ornate, and shared the same symbols as what was embroidered on his captors attire. Probably a sign of the church. 

The clothes, of which he hadn’t paid much mind to because he wasn’t naked and that had initially been an improvement… Were suddenly not much of one when he saw them. He was wrapped in a white fabric that imitated clothes. If someone twisted select pieces of the cloth, they could easily unravel him back into nudity. Both innocuous and exposing, he wanted to be more covered. To be dressed as a person, not as a false symbol. Inside the dresser, there were more white fabrics. Nothing else was inside its drawers. He had scowled, forced to accept the costume. So he tried to focus on his appearance, and with that came snippets of memories. The second he saw himself, he intuitively knew he looked younger than he was supposed to. 

In his mind's eye, he was maybe in his twenties? The baby fat in his cheeks had eased, yet weren't this plump. Venti had been frequently mistaken for a teenager due to his petite frame, wide eyes, and tendency towards outfits that were ‘too feminine.’ How anything he wore was described as ‘feminine’ had never made sense to him. Last he checked, clothing didn’t have a preference.

 There were more differences than just his age, however, the more he looked. His hair was black, and the style was the same - short in the back, with the front hair kept long and braided to frame his face, reaching just slightly past his shoulders. He still had his bangs, curling just outside of his eyes. A new feature, however, was that halfway down the hair began to gradiate into a brilliant turquoise. On his upper arms and upper thighs he had tattoos, in that same light turquoise colour at the end of his hairs. There was also one on his chest, yet beneath it was a pinkish-scar, distorting the blues of the tattoo somewhat.

The last difference was that he had blue eyes, and while they were still blue… There was something different about his irises, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly. Leaning in close, he tried to understand what was ‘off.’ The shape was no different. Yet there was this uncanny sensation these weren’t his. As if he was looking into someone else’s eyes, not his own in a mirror. In fact, his entire body felt this way. His, but not his. A glove that fit him perfectly, yet was undoubtedly someone else’s. 

Finally, he noticed it. Deep greens were mingling with the blues, tiny lights waiting for their moment to glow. Venti had never seen someone with heterochromia before, but he doubted this was how that looked. Even more so, that was genetic. If his eyes had always been like this, he would have noticed long before now.

Eventually, he moved on in spite of the unsettling feelings and odd discrepancies. Instead, he tried to remember what mattered. More about who he was, where he was before this, how to help himself escape this glorified prison. What he was able to come up with was that his name was Venti, and music had been his reason to wake up every morning. That he had a mundane job that he sought to brighten with songs and makeshift instruments in an otherwise quiet… A quiet where? It didn't matter. Some kind of place that offered food and drink. That his antics brought smiles to his regulars, to new customers, and his co-workers. That he could remember sharing his songs on street corners as often as he could, and would find safe places to practice at being the best bard he could. 

That within his own chest beat a ballad, and its lyrics wove a tale of being free. 

Slowly, he began to form a plan. The first part was identifying his captors and knowing what he could about each. There was Albert, a young man obsessed with an even younger woman who was both idol and nun. He was worrying, and his gaze felt more objectifying than that of wonder. Next was Deaconess Erne, who was gentle when she got what she wanted, only to be strict and harsh when she did not. She would then switch gears, apologizing and reassuring in the perfect manners of a manipulator. If Venti didn’t know the signs for what they were, he would have mistaken her for difficulty regulating her moods. Erne knew very much what emotions to express and when. After all, the more he listened to her, the more he realized she did not want a god for her faith or her church. She wanted a pawn to play a god, with her controlling each step. 

After her was a strange woman that they simply referred to as, ‘K.’ Her eyes were odd, with a diamond for a pupil and unlike all the others she did not wear the clothing of the church. Instead her clothes were almost otherworldly. Her hair was a deep violet, with a streak of cream through it. Venti had a single interaction with her, and it was the closest to a normal conversation he had. Not because of the topics, but that she spoke to him as a person and didn’t seem especially interested in him outside of a scientific scope. 

That conversation had been the most enlightening and confusing out of all.

“How are you adjusting to your body?” K had asked him, clipboard and quill in hand. She was using one of the nearby desks pulled forward to rest the bottle of ink upon it. 

“My new body?” Venti repeated, raising one fine black brow at her. Hoping to clarify his best guess. That would explain why his tattoos, his entire body was both wrong and right. 

“Yes. Any pains? Have you retained all your senses? Hearing, speech, and sight seems unimpeded. The nutrition we provided - have you tasted their flavours? When you touch something, do you feel its texture or simply recognize you have made contact?” On K’s inquiries went, each one kept strictly to necessary. Venti felt as if he was talking to a doctor, not a ward. So she was the one he felt most comfortable asking.

“I’ve been wondering. What… Exactly am I?” Venti inquired, hopeful that she would give him the truth. 

“You are a deity.” K said it the same way she said everything. Indifferently. When she said it, he almost believed that he was a god.

“But the memories I have are of being human?” Venti pressed.

“That is an interesting piece of trivia. But it is not one you've any need to explore, nor does it help me any with my work. My priority is to ensure your body remains stable. To schedule regular inspections that soul and body remain attached, to avoid repeating the summoning process.” K answered, writing away. Venti guessed it was something along the lines of: “patient too attached to old life, not happy with god status. Appears entitled.”

“Regular inspections that… My soul doesn’t just start astral-projecting itself, or that I’m not just suddenly dead?” He asked. Her hand paused in its scrawls, and she looked at him through her glasses with a slight frown.

“Astral project? I am not familiar with this term. What does it mean?” It was the first question anyone had asked him. Equally, it meant there was information Venti had access to, but a scientist here didn’t. It was a term someone had shared with him. Who was it? Had they been close?

“It’s this concept, that… Actually,” Venti paused, and cleared his throat. To celebrate his semi-normal conversation, and that he knew something for once someone else didn’t here. 

So he sang her a little song. Nothing glorious or special, just one about being free from gods.  

His short song ended, Venti eagerly looked at K for a smile. Instead of the joy his music often brought, her face had gone pale and the quill in her hand was broken. K’s lips were pulled into a thin line, and in that moment all her eyes held was fear. Wordlessly, she left the room. Venti was alone once more, but the emptiness of the room felt far bigger than it had prior. 

He didn't understand what about his singing had unsettled her so much. 

The fourth person was a man aptly named Guy. There weren’t many interactions with him. He wore plated armor, once more dressed differently than the church-like attire the first two wore. He had short brown hair that he styled, a windswept look to him. His duties seemed to be primarily to ensure that Venti was still in his room, though on occasion with a guilty expression would shyly inquire if ‘his Lord Barbatos,’ would like anything to eat or drink. Where the others would bring him specific meals and typically water, Guy was already hard at work winning ‘his Lord Barbatos’’ favor with offers of delicious snacks like apples, and even better drinks like cider. Everyone else Venti was ready to run away from. But Guy? Guy was the real Chad of this place, and had the best tactic in trying to win Venti over in taking on this god role. 

Lounging on a massive bed, a glass of quality cider in his hand with a bowl of apples… This was the life of a god. 

But that was really the only interaction Venti had with Guy. The man was obviously some kind of knight, and his actions spoke volumes of his guilt and shame of what the four were doing. In spite of his actions, Guy had some sense of morality he was grappling with and trying to soothe with delicious offerings. Out of the four, Venti suspected his best chances would lie with Guy if he wanted to escape. As he concocted his plan, he was also trying to learn more about what was outside these walls. Wherever he was, it felt wrong. 

As the memory receded, Venti found himself awake and gasping in the now familiar bed of his room. The room he had at Wangshu Inn, decorated in instruments and musical sheets. A room still dark, illuminated only by a moon that peaked through his window. It had been some time since any of those memories emerged to haunt him. Apparently he could only push them down so far, before each one tried to leak back into his thoughts unbidden. 

Lying there, he wondered if he could go back to sleep. Felt the fear of what the next memory might be, heart beating too quickly with anxiety for sleep to be an option anymore. The nudge of questions he was afraid to get answers to, implications he wanted to pretend he was ignorant of.

It was too late in the night to play music. 

But maybe… There was someone who was awake? Sitting up in his bed, blanket falling from his chest to his lap, Venti's fingers curled around the fabric's hem. Hoped he wasn't being a bother. “Xiao?” He called softly, as if volume was the difference between interrupting or not. 

Almost immediately there was the familiar flicker of karmic residue and Anemo, Xiao appearing at the side of the bed. “You called?” He asked, surprise in his voice and eyes. 

“You came!” Venti exclaimed, that panic subsiding as delight filled him. Only to quickly recede, fear he was being a nuisance impeding once more. “Sorry. Were you busy?” The bard quickly amended, fingers fidgeting with his blanket in the beat it took for a response to be given. 

“No.” Xiao shook his head, gold eyes noting the odd poking the bard's fingers were subjecting the blanket to. “Are you hurt?” The yaksha guessed, trying to piece together the sudden summons. Venti did often stay up late and sleep in late, so being awake around this time wasn't necessarily odd. What was odd was the fidgeting, but also that rarely did Venti wake up before noon once he laid down. 

Also, Venti hadn't just called him out of the blue before. 

Not that he minded, but it was curious. The timing was oddly convenient, Bonanus’ words from earlier still in his mind. 

“Ahaha, no. I'm… Awake!” Venti decided, not wanting to discuss the reason behind being awake. “And thought, I bet I know who else is awake! Because you don't sleep.” He continued, filling the empty air while hoping Xiao wouldn't press him for more information. 

“Not often, no.” Xiao confirmed, brows slowly covering his eyes as he listened to the other's prattling. Was Bonanus��� Right? Was Venti just coming up with reasons to have Xiao visiting him? “Would you…” He hesitated, scared he was wrong. That Venti was trying to signal something to him and he was just too dense to notice. “Would you like my company?” It sounded silly when he said it, but Venti brightened at that question. Suddenly the offer felt like the smartest words that ever left Xiao's mouth. 

“Yes!” Venti exclaimed, and scooted over while excitedly patting the space next to him. The unusual fidgeting was paused by the movement, and Xiao wondered if the bard had been nervous.

Was Venti worried that Xiao would just shrug and leave?

Getting into the bed next to Venti wasn't a smooth affair. Xiao was stiff, forcing himself to trust Venti's words from the other day. That the yaksha wasn't going to hurt the other by just being there. To remind himself how obvious it was that Venti wanted him there. That Bonanus seemed to be right, that spending time with the bard was the best thing he could give.

They sat side by side, a left and right thigh just barely touching with legs outstretched beneath a shared blanket. Lithe fingers twined with Xiao's gloved ones, warm and comforting with the soft hold. “Oh! Hah!” Venti's laughter filled the room, catching himself before resting his head on the yaksha’s shoulder guard. “Sorry, forgot about that!” 

Calmly, Xiao reached with his free hand to start undoing the clasps for it. 

“Oh, no, you don't have to-” Venti said quickly, eyes widening in surprise to the wordless action. The yaksha remained quiet until the guard was removed entirely, and set it on the nightstand. “Xiao…”

“If this is my hand, then this is your shoulder.” Xiao spoke gently, though swallowed hard immediately after. In the dim light of the moon, Venti was certain the yaksha's ears were just a little darker than usual. Smiling, the bard let out a long, content sigh as his nestled cheek against the shoulder. Really, Xiao blushed so easily. 

It was sweet. 

As the safety encompassed him, Venti didn't notice the way his eyes drooped or how readily he was falling asleep. All he knew was that while his eyes were closed, the fingers holding his didn't let go this time. 

...

...

...

The next day, Bonanus had returned to Wangshu Inn. This time, at the more reasonable time of after sunrise. She was there mostly in part because Venti had some final details to work out with Zhongli, before setting his plan into action. When she arrived, Xiao was there as well enjoying the usual lunch with the bard. “Well that's not fair! I didn't get an invite!” She said with a playful pout, hands on her hips. Slowly standing up, Venti gave her a lopsided grin. 

“Yes you did, you're here because I invited you!” He laughed, putting the dishes onto the counter as always. He simply took them to the kitchen to wash when he headed down in the evening to perform. 

“Not for lunch!” Bonanus pointed out, puffing her cheeks out in exaggeration.

One foot sliding over, hip jutting slightly, Venti raised up both hands with the palms facing the sky in a grand shrug as a sigh left him. The dramatic flair he added to what would have been an otherwise simple motion had been intended to be more playful, to emphasize that the heart of the discussion wasn’t serious. Only to jolt with surprise, a familiar hand on his waist with another sliding up his forearm to twine their fingers together. Startled, he tried to look behind him to confirm that yes, this was Xiao. The confirmation was immediate, their noses brushing and Venti jerked his head back to ensure nothing more than their noses bumped. “Oh?” The sound fell from him lamely, completely caught off-guard by the impromptu embrace and perhaps some pink on his cheeks. 

The two hadn’t been together long, and Venti was enjoying learning all the little things about Xiao that he was. But this was… Unexpected. The yaksha was shy in so many ways, that Venti just assumed he was that way in all areas. Especially so when in front of one of his fellow yaksha, who was watching this unfold with wide eyes and slightly slack jaw. “You’re… Okay with PDA?” Venti asked curiously, eyes both hopeful and apprehensive watching the way Xiao’s expression returned the gaze with its own inquiry. “Public displays of affection?” The bard explained. 

The answer wasn’t immediate, Xiao’s brow only slightly furrowed as he mulled over the way he wanted to respond. As he did so, his thumb ran over the pad of Venti’s palm beneath the bard’s thumb. Leaning in close, Xiao took in a deep breath that Venti felt by his neck, goosebumps rising all along his arm at the unfamiliar sensation. The yaksha buried his face into Venti’s hair, fingers at the bard’s waist drumming thoughtfully. Even before Xiao pulled away at length to answer, slowly Venti was recognizing all the signs he had given for what was going to be said. 

Gold eyes stared into his, warm and genuine. The sort that Venti doubted he had ever seen on anyone else. “I’ve wanted this… For over two-thousand years. If eyes on us makes you uncomfortable, I will stop.” His voice was almost shaky, and Venti’s heart clutched at that subtle wavering. “But for this, I don’t mind being stared at. Especially if it’s by eyes that belong to a nosy, eavesdropping individual.” There was the shadow of a smile on the yaksha’s lips, but gold irises lit up with an adoration that created a fluttering in the bard’s chest. 

“You wouldn’t even mind a kiss?” Venti ventured, deciding to test the waters. Perhaps return the favor of getting flustered, even. The bard should have seen this coming, but he really did believe that Xiao would get embarrassed, bury his face in Venti’s shoulder. But no. Without hesitation there were lips on his, eager and gentle all at once. Pulling away, that shadow of a smile almost an amused grin on his face, Xiao gave a nod. 

“I would never mind a kiss.” The yaksha confirmed. 

It was a weird sensation, to be the one blushing between the pair, Venti decided. Glancing to the side, he noticed very red ears. Ah, he's just hiding it really well in front of his sister, the bard thought with amusement. Good, so long as he wasn't alone in being embarrassed. 

“Oh my Archons, Menogias is going to love it when I tell him about this!” Bonanus gushed, hands pressed to her cheeks as she basked in the glory of her brother finally opening up to someone.

“Please don't.” Xiao whispered hoarsely, this time definitely trying to hide his face. 

[i-just-look-at-pictures]

I am irrationally emotional about this because whether I had 20 views or 20k views it really makes no difference to my love of their story but I just want to take a moment of disbelief and thank anyone who has ever taken the time to comment, leave kudos or even so much as read my fic.

This is really quite excessively open but I started writing TSLIHSALHUT (note to anyone who is considering writing a story - give it a simple name because it is a mouthful to type from hereon we will call it sleeps) when I was essentially on house arrest awaiting an operation for a health issue. I was depressed, lonely and really just existing. I reached a point where I didn't even want to exist because what was the point?

I had finished the last term of my master's and was being left behind by all my friends who were getting on with their lives and planning all these incredible things whilst I felt I was drowning. I was housebound, so desperately ill and had given up on my life ever becoming better. Whilst rewatching Peaky Blinders I found an old oneshot from years ago that prompted me to draft a chapter, one chapter. I will add that my degree was in creative writing but I had lost all confidence in my own voice and lost all longing to write, to do anything I had once remotely found enjoyable.

But I wrote it and afterwards I posted said chapter because I thought why the fuck not. It was a short seven-chapter fic that would 'look at Tommy's and Grace's life together.' Snippets, never did I intend their entire journey to be documented in this. What changed? You all.

I say without an ounce of exaggeration that writing this fic saved my life. Slowly, slowly, with each chapter, with each upload, with each kudos or comment, something reawoke. This wasn't just writing about my favourite characters anymore, this was a community that embraced both me and the small work of creativity that I brought to the table.

For such a violent show, I have never been a part of such a wonderful, empathic, tender, beautiful community. I had been surviving for such a long time that I had completely forgotten what it felt like to have a purpose, a drive, a hobby, SOMETHING that I was proud of and you have all been with me every single step of the way.

This is too emotional for a Wednesday night but Jesus Christ, I don't know how I would ever thank you all for giving me my voice back. It started as a whisper over the summer and your kindness and support have enabled me to carry that over to my everyday life.

It was a safety blanket to fall back on. It was something to get me out of bed before midday. It was innumerable posters reaching out to me after my dog was put to sleep. It was strangers on the internet checking in with me after my operation. It was support and companionship and it was recognition that, even though I felt I did not matter, you thought I did. You thought my work did.

So thank you. For every single person in you 20,062 (I mean that is just fucking ridiculous, have you read it... it's shit!). You could not save me when I was drowning, and you never even realised I had entered the water but you each contributed to the ladder that allowed me to climb to safety.

I got my operation, my health grew better, I finished my degree, I went back to work and life got better, but I sincerely do not think I would be sat here tonight in the position I am if it had not started with that first chapter of Sleeps.

Never underestimate the impact you have on strangers on the internet. Never underestimate the value of your worth. You save lives and change lives every single day and for that, I will love and appreciate you for the rest of my life.

So, emotional time over. Peace out. I have Spag Bol for tea and a chapter to edit.

Beth x

[seraphiism]

╰ ♡ ;; 𝟒[𝐡] ┊ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 • 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒

❝ 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄. ❞

name : YoRHa No. 4 Type H [ original character ] fandom : nier:automata a/n : tw suicide full bio ; iirc there is an established role for H models already in nier but im going 2 ignore tht and make my own

╰ P R O L O G U E : START

YOU ARE BOTH CREATION & CREATOR, BORN WITH A FALSE SENSE OF PURPOSE. YOU ARE MEANT TO FIGHT, TO GUIDE, TO PROTECT, AND SOMEWHERE IN THE ABSENCE OF A HEART, YOU ARE MEANT TO LOVE.

SOMEWHERE IN THE ABSENCE OF A HEART, YOU LEARN OF HUMANITY. YOU LEARN TO LOVE WHAT IS MEANT TO BE SACRED, WHAT IS MEANT TO BE SAVED, AND YOU ARE FILLED WITH SUCH AN INCREDIBLE LONELINESS.

YOU ARE NOT HUMAN. YOU ARE ANDROID. YOU SHOULDN'T FEEL THESE THINGS.

IT WILL HURT YOU IN THE END. IT WON'T BE YOUR FAULT.

( YOU ARE MEANT TO LOVE AND ENDURE FOR SOMETHING THAT NO LONGER EXISTS, THIS DECREPIT HUMANITY THAT YOU BELIEVE SURVIVES, BUT THEY WON'T TELL YOU THAT, WILL THEY? )

╰ a c t • o n e :

YOU'VE LOST IT ALL, BUT YOU NEVER HAD IT IN THE FIRST PLACE, DID YOU?

a widespread illness. an invasion of the enemy. an ongoing war, a stalemate that turns the tides. android vs. machine.

you do not know what happens. you do not know how it happens, but everything turns into a mess of crimson and crimson and crimson and crimson and there's blood everywhere on everyone on EVERYTHING and ──

you don't understand. why is this happening? why is this happening? why is this happening WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WRONG?

you are surrounded by death and decay and destruction; your allies turn into something they are not, minds ravaged with a vicious virus that overtakes them. they are losing themselves as it consumes and consumes and consumes, chaos feeding on malice as they are overwritten with despair and fury, minds rewired to kill each other in the cruelest of ways.

you cannot tell what is going on -- not until they turn on you, not until they attack you, not until they try to kill you, rip you apart. you have no choice. you have to survive.

YOU HAVE TO SURVIVE.

( you kill the very ones you once trusted.

you were meant to protect the ones you loved. you didn't.

you didn't. )

╰ a c t • t w o :

SYSTEM ERROR : VIRUS DETECTED PROPOSAL : REMOVE IMMEDIATELY

the infection takes hold of you, too. it spreads and spreads, and it is almost as if you can feel it-- but you know it's not real, that you can't, because the blood in your body is fake : a false pretense, a pretend play to connect you to humanity.

it is not real, it's not, but you feel it so deeply that you are afraid.

you cannot survive this. you cannot eradicate the virus. you look at the bodies before you, wonder how many you have killed. you will become one of them. it will happen soon.

you are going to die.

( your eyes well up with tears. it stings.

it shouldn't, you think, YOU AREN'T HUMAN, ANYWAY. )

╰ a c t • t h r e e :

VIRUS UPLOAD : 25% PROPOSAL : REMOVE IMMEDIATELY

sensorimotor systems altered and malfunctioning.

your legs grow weak, give out. it's hard to walk, hard to run, hard to fight.

VIRUS UPLOAD : 50% PROPOSAL : REMOVE IMMEDIATELY

visual systems error.

it's all a haze, a blur. specs of blue and green and red flood your visual field. the colors give way, slowly fade into oblivion, washed away into a black and white. the greens of the earth -- the only surviving thing near you, turn desolate.

( YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE ALL OF YOURSELF, AREN'T YOU? )

╰ a c t • f o u r :

WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE?

your skin is stained with blood-- red red red red everywhere --

you are afraid. you are so afraid. you are going to die and you are going to die quickly-- the virus will take over, and you will be rendered useless, and they'll kill you. they'll give you the cruelest death -- you, who only dream of peaceful means and better days.

( I'M SO SORRY, LOVE. YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT FOR DEATH. )

╰ a c t • f i v e :

VIRUS UPLOAD : 75% PROPOSAL : REMOVE IMMEDIATELY

there's no use anymore. no use in fighting, no point in running. your legs are numb, give out at any attempt to move. you can hardly walk, try to drag yourself through the massacre, try to survive something that cannot be survived. all functions damaged.

you still feel the pain, though. you wonder if it was a blessing or curse to be designed as human. to feel everything just as they do.

( YOU NEVER NEEDED TO FEEL PAIN, NEVER NEEDED TO HAVE EMOTIONS, NEVER NEEDED ANY OF THIS. YOU COULD HAVE EXISTED AND CARRIED OUT YOUR MISSION WITHOUT THIS PAIN, YET THEY GAVE THIS ALL TO YOU. )

╰ a c t • s i x :

the end comes closer and closer. your hearing turns into something ruined -- you try to speak, but you can only hear bits and pieces of yourself, of your struggle, of your fragile voice. there's too much static, too much white noise, and in the expanse of black and white, it almost feels like you have been thrown into purgatory before death will take you.

it is cruel. this is so terribly frightening. this is so terribly painful.

the machines are catching up to you, and you almost want to laugh. you were born with the purpose of protecting humans and killing the machines destined to slaughter them. you thought you would die fighting, but you can't. your energy is gone.

did you do something to deserve this?

( you gasp for breath, a shaking hand grasping onto your sword as you plunge it into the ground, seek purchase from it as you collapse on your knees.

you can't die like this. they'll kill you, they'll kill you in the harshest of ways. you don't deserve this. you don't. if there is one thing you can control, you think, your hands trembling so violently, it will be your death. )

╰ a c t • s e v e n [ END GAME ; GOODNIGHT, LOVE ] :

you can't die like this. you can't die like this, you can't, you can't, you can't. your chest hurts with each sob, but you cannot even hear yourself, the glitches and distortion so prominent with the static that rings in your ears. you will not grant yourself the cruelest ending, even if your means of death are sorrow itself.

you've lost everything, haven't you? you poor thing, born of something that lacks significance, having hope for something long dead. you foolish little thing, so sad and so close to death. you didn't have to feel this much, but they made you, and so you feel the fear more than anyone because that was how they programmed you.

the machines are closing in. it will happen soon, this fate. you won't let it. you can't.

you smile, hardly register the tears that trail down your face. your vision keeps fading in and out, your limbs heavy.

YOU'VE LOST EVERYTHING, HAVEN'T YOU?

your bloodied hands tighten around the sword. the pain is excruciating, radiates through your body as you raise it.

you've lost everything, haven't you?

VIRUS UPLOAD : 99% PROPOSAL : PROPOSAL : PROPOSAL : PROPOSAL : PROPOSAL : PROPOSAL : yo̹̻̳r͎̞͢h̟͖̖a͇͓͓ ͔͍̹͇̦̲u͚̯̜̤ṉ̥͚̣i̙̻̱̭̬̩ͅt̸͍̬ ̜̥̗̩ͅͅ4̘͍͇͎̯͈͙́h̸ ̡̲͓̳̣͕o̝ffl͚͓̳̩̫̣ͅi̫͉ͅn̷͇͇̭̙ę͎̥͉͖

[vapidfirefly]

SLAPS THE TABLE ALRIGHT LISTEN UP Ferns are one of the most majestic creatures on this earth. They're older than dirt and some of them slowly give you cancer just by being in their MERE PRESENCE. The spores can be fatal as they are delicate and there's so many fucking variety's whose young fiddleheads are delicious to eat. Many have medicinal properties that are neat! Houseplant social media will tell you it's hard to grow them but fuck you I live in Seattle, we wine and dine in the under story of temperate rain-forests so I grow them like weeds in any east-north facing window that gets licks of sunlight and a full view of the sky Here's my growing collection of these marvelous creatures, I've only killed one (remember you always painted fern) and Ill probably accidentally kill a few more in pursuit of the perfect habitat but until THEN (ALSO YES MY NAILS IK IK LETS STICK TO WHATS IMPORTANT HERE) I prefer growing local varieties to north America and the PNW because that's where I'm located and it's just easier dude© but I'm not above buying Asian or European varieties if the photos upload in the right order... WE HAVE The Maidenhair Spleenwort (Asplenium Trichomanes) which is confusingly NOT the same genus as my latter Maidenhair ferns.. it just looks like it is. It's classed as a miniature fern and boy is it fucking -adorable-, I plan to propagate them into lil moss terrariums. Its been used as a diuretic and cough suppressant so idk if u got the flu and a piss fascination this fern is for you Next up is the Northern Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum Pedatum) and I love them, I would die for them, the delicate way they flit around in the gentlest breeze tickles the cockles of my heart. It's like looking at my gf on a summer day, ideal. Copypaste from OSU "Medical uses around the world for this plant has included bronchitis, whooping cough, chronic infections, hepatitis, snakebites, rheumatism, asthma, coughing, fevers, burns, and scalds. North Americans would chew the fronds and then apply them to wounds to stop bleeding."

Okay okay, ikik, so many maidenhairs but I can't help myself. What was I to do? this next one Adiantum hispidulum or, the 5 finger jack is from Australia, New zealand, and polynesia. It's got rosy colored young growth and more clover-like fronds. Couldnt find any specific medicinal uses I just like the cut of their jib So anyways I buy this next fern right, and the tag tells me 'ay, buddy, I'm an august fern' and for weeks I'm wondering where's the pretty orange streak? wheres the lil splash, why does the variegation look so different... well its NOT the marvel I thought it was! It's an East Indian Holly Fern! (Arachniodes Simplicior) and it's spores become big enough clusters they look like a bunch of baby spider nests! How neat! or terrifying, given your opinion on arachnids ig The next three pictures are of a Licorice fern, a Tassel fern, and an unknown variety I was given for free because it was unmarked and overwatered! The other two I bought from the clearance bin. They look rough, they look like they've been through the ringer, but I bet u a few months in one of my windows and all of em will have new fiddleheads and look happy as can be, give em a year and you'd never know they struggled. Kinda like people you love, treat em right and give em time, they'll probably start perking up too. I was explicitly excited about seeing the licorice fern as it's PNW native. The rhizomes are sweet and "..were chewed by numerous Native American groups, including the Squamish, Shishalh, Comox, Nuxalk, Haida, and Kwakwaka'wakw. The rhizomes were also usually used medicinally as a treatment for the cold and sore throats." FINALLY we got ourselves a Little lady fern (Athyrium filix-femina) and what is probably a Western sword fern (Polystichum munitum). We pulled them out of the ground and split them off, accidentally taking rhizomes from both plants on accident! They don't seem to mind and have different growth habits so hey, why not

congrats if you made it this far, cheers to ferns

[fee-phy-fo-fum]

“This is Memory Replicated Android, the Eleventh. The other roboticists have taken to calling it MAR11 for short.”

“Mari,” she echoes. “She… She looks just like... Himari...”

---

So I've watched a few M3GAN things last night (may or may not be minorly absorbed in it right now, I can't wait for it to come out) and then I was just thinking about OMORI because yknow. OMORI has consumed my mind and my every waking hour. So... M3GAN au!

I wanted to like. Write it out as a story but I'm. Not up to it right now. So these are just. Thoughts on the whole thing plus colour coding because I love colours, they make my brain go "mmmm shinyyy"

Also Sunny is yellow not black because I love colour theory and opposing colours as a juxtaposition of who these characters represe-

(And also bc I worked on dark mode and literally could not see black)

Let's go!

---

Suzuki Himari (aka Mari) passes away due to an illness. Her father is a roboticist and her mother is a lawyer and they divorced after Mari's death. Their son, Tsuneyuki (Sunny), lives with their mother in Faraway Town.

Due to the kids' (the whole gang, really) young ages (8 and 11), their parents explain Mari's disappearance as... Boarding school. Hero has his suspicions, Sunny grows more withdrawn without his Nee-chan, and everyone misses Mari.

A year or two after Mari's death, the father brings the mother to his workplace to show off MAR11, who has Mari's memories uploaded to it. (Why does he have Mari's memories? He took her to his workplace once - there was a whole argument with her mother over it that also played a part in the divorce.) The mother brings her home.

Sunny is positively delighted by the reappearance of his Nee-chan and immediately drags her out to meet their friends. Without letting his mom tell him about. Stuff. And then it's never the right time to talk about the stuff.

So! MAR11 is an android, yeah? Her instructions are really just... to the extent of "Embody Mari and fulfill her wishes". There's just... one issue. Mari was like. 11. When she passed.

Now, I don't know about you but when I was 11, I would stare at people and wish they would explode.

MAR11 is also not really equipped to handle and process any emotions that Mari had. She just has the memories and a logic-based decision-making system. ("Would Mari do this? How would she go about doing this? Will this impact their views of Mari? Will this make them unhappy?")

Mari just... really wanted to make her friends happy. And so MAR11's mission starts off with that! Sunny drags MAR11 to reunite with all their friends! Everything goes great! Yes, sure MAR11 is a little different from Mari, but it's been two years. Surely she's grown up!

(Little note on the gang's reaction to MAR11: Their ideas of Mari have been warped slightly by time, distance and longing. "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" and all that. They have a bit of an idealised and romanticised view of her - maybe not to the extent of canon not quite, but definitely something. MAR11 makes it worse, because she's an android and is capable of doing things literally perfectly. Cue the gang (mostly the younger ones) trying to live up to even more impossible standards.)

Once the euphoria wears off, Hero starts noticing... things. Things about how MAR11 is acting. So he starts asking the adults questions. The adults (probably only Sunny's mom) are cagey af. (The rest are just very confused?) He asks Sunny. Sunny is blinded by having "Mari" back. He asks MAR11 instead. MAR11 gaslights, gatekeeps and girlbosses because ignorance is bliss.

Whether or not the gatekeeping is a success (I can't decide), the escalation of MAR11's behaviours and actions starts slowly.

Maybe someone picks on... one of the younger kids. MAR11 steps in, like a big sister would. Normal kind of stepping in.

("Thank you, Mari!" Aubrey sniffs, even as a smile takes over her face and she throws her arms around MAR11's waist.

MAR11 smiles, carding her fingers through Aubrey's hair. "Don't worry! Big sister Mari will always take care of you. All it costs is your love!")

That's just how it starts, of course.

Maybe the bullies are relentless. Maybe even after they stop, strange things happen to them. Maybe they, strangely enough, insist on moving away from this place they've lived all their lives. Maybe they can't speak of what happened.

Maybe they can. Maybe they report it. Maybe they try to. Maybe they never succeed.

If the gaslighting works, Hero is dragged along by MAR11 on this unfortunate ride - a blinded accomplice. No one believes that Mari would do... any of the heinous crimes she actually does, and they're even less willing to believe Hero would.

("You're joking, right? ... ... ...Puh-lease, Hero's... He's Hero, y'know? That's just crazy!"

"... No."

"Mari...? And Hero...? That... That wouldn't make sense..."

"Hmph! You don't even know them well enough to be talking about them like that!")

If the gaslighting fails, Hero tries to talk MAR11 down from what she's doing, under the impression that she's actually Mari because the poor guy just doesn't have the full story. Emphasis on that he tries.

("Did I do something to upset you?" <- aesthetically placed bloodstain

"Mari, please... You don't have to do this. This isn't like you!"

"Silly Hero." That mildly creepy cheek caress that people do. "I'm just making sure that no one can ever harm our little siblings ever again."

"Mari..."

"I don't want to hurt you. But if you keep getting in my way... I'm afraid I may not have a choice.")

...

...How it ends? ...Ask me tomorrow if you're really interested, I've exhausted my brain juice.

[cories-in-the-house]

Hello everybody. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve uploaded anything here, and I’d like to finally explain why.

In short, viral hemorrhagic septicemia ravaged my tank and killed every single last one of my cory cats. This was the mysterious illness that plagued the tank for months since late last winter. I finally found out what it was thanks to other cory owners on Reddit. VHS was introduced to my tank by the cories I bought from Petco. Since my last update here, VHS has taken the lives of Dumpling, Crouton, and the other cories. I was devastated. Worse yet, you cannot kill viruses that enter your aquarium—they’re immune to medicine. I didn’t want to keep posting here with a stream of bad news, it’s upsetting and humiliating.

Fletcher and Magnum, my black kuhli loaches, are miraculously alive and haven’t shown any signs of VHS, so they’re currently the only inhabitants of the 20 gallon long. The tank likely has to remain a closed system until I either move Fletcher and Magnum to a smaller tank, or until they die and I’d have to clean out the entire tank just to reuse it. I’ve thought about adding more black loaches so they aren’t lonely—they’ve been hiding a lot since the last cory died—but it’s a risk because my loaches could be asymptomatic carriers of VHS and start another mass die-off. I’d hate to inflict that on other innocent loaches, but I don’t know what to do about Fletcher and Magnum. *I forget if I ever gave an update on my loach Columbo, but he suddenly got ill with something I never identified and passed away. This was soon after an ich outbreak, but he didn’t look to have ich and I healed everyone else.

Right now due to life circumstances we may have to move rather suddenly in the coming few months, so it isn’t wise to try setting up a new small tank right now for the loaches. There’s also the issue of whenever the loaches would die, and then I’d have another tank to take down and either sell off or start again. I can’t house the loaches with Jovian because he hates their wriggly asses, plus it isn’t big enough for them. I hope to get more albino cories in the future, but as you could figure I’m not in a position to at the time being.

Overall this is a shitty situation. I never expected my fishkeeping dream to be crushed before even a year of owning fish. I never expected an unkillable virus to wipe out my tank. There have been and continue to be so many financial risks and losses due to all the illness.

Just as a warning to fellow cory enthusiasts, I’ve been informed that albino cories have recently seen a worrying increase in infection with viral hemorrhagic septicemia because of poor breeding practices and stores not looking into the health of these fish. It isn’t just Petco or Petsmart—I got cories from a huge local store well-known here and they were extremely ill. If I’m going to get albino cories again, I’m absolutely going to a reputable online breeder instead. I would get more cories from the pet store I got my original batch from, but they suddenly closed. Please please please be so careful where you source your cories, VHS is a horrifying, grotesque way to go. Look out for signs in your own cories—the biggest symptom of septicemia is internal bleeding, and it can get fucking nasty. Look out for blood spots around fin stalks, gills, and around internal organs. If you don’t put down infected fish, you might see them slowly bleed to death from the inside. I was too emotional to do so, but I wish I had.

I plan to post more here when I figure out my fish situation and plan out the financial aspect. I just wanted to post an update for anyone that follows me or comes across my account.

[myaquariusheart]

26/3

Hey, I've been AWOL. I'm currently on placement two and a lot has happened. The PGCE is going well even though the first placement was not easy it was my fault and has let me develop a lot. although I'm still finding it difficult to wake up on time and get to school early. I'm currently rotting Royas brain and making her chill and watch a YouTube video on mice that she needs to keep an eye on. She was enjoying it until she started biting my phone and I disturbed her. It's currently Ramadan and it is been good as well as stressful. Since we have been back from Umrah a lot has gone on. We've been mourning and there isn't a day where I don't think about Bubu's death and honestly, I think about it every day. I miss her and regret not keeping in touch as much as I should of and even cherishing the time we had as selfish enough I thought we would all be growing old together and we would all bring our children up being best friends. we can still do that but a piece is missing. It also makes me think about life and death more, and how easily life can be taken away. I'm always deep in thought and usually lie awake at night thinking Allah could take me any time and I should live each day but who's to know. Life, we only have one chance at it. I'm currently watching Gone Girl because I've actually never seen a Ben Aflek movie and I probably should as he's JLO's man. So far it's okay, his wife has gone missing and she's an author or writer or something. I'm going to finish this degree soon and I can't wait. there's so much paperwork to do with all of this and it's hard to keep up. I have an essay as well it's not done yet, but I'm just hoping it doesn't count toward our final grade. After the easter break, I have my formal observation with L and B and I am really nervous but I just need to crack down on the behavior of the class and the content that I'm teaching. just need to remember some simple things like don't talk until the class is quiet and all that kinda stuff so it's easy but I'm sure when someone is watching me it is more nerve-wracking. the last Geography lesson I did there was about 3 teachers in the classroom and I was so nervous but at the end of the lesson R said the lesson went really well so I was happy, she even said it in front of the head teacher but I doubt ill get a job there. I have been applying to some abroad like Abu Dhabi and Dubai but I need to take a professional picture soon so I can upload it onto my CV. unfortunately, I have been super ugly lately but I'm going to speak to the hairdresser tomorrow, my hair is still short but it's growing. really slowly though, I'm thinking of going back to orange or brown, I do not want to go back to black hair, it is too hard to change and dye over. We'll see, I'm kinda over this color now, I always feel like it doesn't compliment me and then a few months down the line, I'm going to look back on my pictures and then regret it. Look at me talking about stupid irrelevant shit that doesn't matter if I'm a good person or not, just superficial but i guess if I don't look good I don't feel good, but even when I do look good I still don't feel good. I don't know why I'm feeling so low and insecure lately. I and T have been hitting the gym but with everything going on its been really difficult as iftar is at 6 and that's when T gets to the gym. After Eid I'm sure everything will be back to normal.

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just��happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”  

[oshicakes]

their s/o not giving them any affection

pairings. kenma kozume x reader, suna rintarou x reader, iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre. fluff

other: hinata, bokuto and tendou, semi, sugawara and terushima

Kenma Kozume

your boyfriend's been very busy lately with his acads, volleyball and video games. so you decided to not bother him and let him do his stuffs. thinking that he might get mad at you if you continue being clingy to him. since kuroo said kenma doesn't like someone being clingy to him.

it surprised you. you've been dating him for a year and a month and you just know about it.

it goes on by a week that you didn't bother him. even when he's done playing you'd just ask him how was the game, did he eat and he should get some rest. after that nothing.

he's used to, you hugging him after he's done playing. you'd sometimes style his hair for it not to block his eyes. you'll let him play with your fingers. massage his head or after a game starts you'll kiss his forehead for goodluck. but now he ain't getting any of those.

"im done playing." he looked at you with that knowing look, like he's signaling you to come to him and give him the hugs and kisses you're depriving him.

"oh, okay. you should rest now." that's it? he thought. he sits beside you since your doing your assignment in his desk.

"are you mad at me?" that made you stop from writing. you looked at him with confusion written on your face.

"no, why'd you think i am?"

"you're being distant with me, you're always clingy to me. are you mad because i play too much? im sorry, i promise to give you my attention from now on."

"no, no, no, it's okay. you don't have to change, i mean, im okay with you being preoccupied with games. you love it and you're already doing that even before you met me, so it's okay."

"then why?"

"i... uhm... kuroo said you don't like clingy people.... you should've told me that, i promise not to bother you whenever you play!"

"hey, i didnt say something like that. i... i actually like you being clingy to me."

"really?" he nodded. "i really worry about you sometimes. you're too gullible and kind. kuroo's taking advantage of it to use it against me."

"sorry." you lowered your head, disappointed with yourself. "no, it's okay. but don't listen to kuroo anymore, okay?" he remided his self not to set for kuroo for a week or two as a revenge.

"aye aye, sir." you playfully salute to him.

"can you continue that later? i miss your hugs." he rested his chin on your shoulder and hugged you sideways. you patted his face gently.

"do you want something to eat?" he shakes his head and made his hug on you tighter. "let's just stay like this for a while." you just hummed. he then kissed ypur hand that was caressing his face.

Suna Rintarou

you had this stupid bet with the miya twins. it's 'operation: y/n stop being clingy to his stupid boyfriend for a week'. yes, it was childish but you want to prove something to the twins.

all throughout the week you avoided being near your boyfriend. although you still text him good mornings and good nights, check on him but won't reply after he replied to you.

to be honest, day by day, suna's getting too cranky. the twins noticed it and they just laughed at him.

so for the last day, atsumu had a little idea to fuel things up. he told suna that you're at the back of gym withsome guy who looks like confessing to you.

atsumu smiled, triumphantly. suna ran his way to the back of the gym. right there he saw you talking a guy. what made his blood boil was when he saw you laughing.

that's it, he thought. he abruptly pull you away from the guy and drag you near to the open field where theres no student hanging around.

"hey, why'd you do that? that's rude, suna."

"wow? suna? im suna now? after a week of ignoring me, not talking to me and no hugs, kisses and you're not waiting for anymore. then ill see you with some other guy, laughing, while me, your boyfriend you can't even spare a minute to glance at me. what do you expect me to do? to feel?" he just exploded right there, and it left you dumbfounded.

"just.. break up with me if you don't love me anymore. don't torture me like this." he was ready to turn away and leave you behind when you hugged him and cried.

you didn't know that he's thinking like that, he'll react like this and feel this way. guilt and regret crept into you. how stupid of you to have that bet on the miya twins.

"why are you crying? shouldn't it be me?" his voice was too soft. it made your heart ache more. oh ghad, how could you-

you could feel how hesitant he is to hug you back. he sighed and stroke you're back gently.

you looked up to him to see his eyes. it reflects a lot of his emotions. there's a hint of hurt, regret and longing.

"im sorry, im really sorry. don't think that way, rin. i love you, like, i love you soooo much!"

"are you sure it's me that you love and not the guy you're laughing with?"

"of course, it's you. you're my one and only. he's just my classmate, nothing more."

he released a heavy sighed. "are you still mad?" you asked.

"yes." that made pout. you where about to get away from his hug when he tighten his embrace.

he raised his eyebrow to you then tighten his embrace to you. "who said you can escape my hug? you need to make up for the week you didn't give me your love and attention. you're stuck with me all day."

"i know, i was just about to kiss you but i guess hug is enough for you." that made his eye widen. "what? i want kisses too! this hug isn't enough."

you tiptoped and kiss his cheeks without breaking his embrace to you. he pouted to hide his smile. you cupped his face and just stare at him, lovingly. "im sorry, i hurted you like this. i made a stupid mistake-" he cut you off. "yes you did. you still have a long way to make up with me."

you nodded. "and ill never do something that will doubt my love for you. i didn't consider you're feelings when i agreed to the miya twins' scheme. i won't ever ever do this again. i love you and don't ever doubt that again, okay?"

"wait, what?! i new it! that's why whenever they see me, they'd whisper to each other and then laugh. i should upload all their stupid fighting videos." you swayed your body and his to grab his attention cuz his eyebrows are now nearly connecting like he's plotting for the twin's downfall. "i missed you." you finally grab his attention.

"i missed you too. can you stay at my house today? i don't have an early practice tomorrow." you nodded at him delightedly. and planned what would you do to make up for what you did.

Iwaizumi Hajime

"y/n-san, the coach wants to talk to you and oikawa-san." the juniors called you.

it's been a very busy week since qualifying match for the nationals is nearing. you need to make sure everyone's on their top performance and monitoring the team while helping the coach gathering informations about the players.

you barely have a moment with your boyfriend which you miss hugging so much. speaking of your boyfriend he's been extra grumpy and keeps on glaring at you and oikawa.

today's the same, it's late and exhausting but you can't take it anymore, you need a power hug from your boyfriend. so approached him when there's only few people are in the gym.

"hajimeeee!" you ran to him and instantly wrap your arms around his waist. even though he's sweaty, he still smell nice and manly.

"so now, you're hugging me?" you we're taken aback with what he said. he raised his eyebrow at you.

"huh?" you we're about to move away when he squinted his eyes and glare at you. so you remained hugging him.

"don't huh me, y/n. you're always with shittykawa." that made you giggle. its a rare event to make your boyfriend jealous. you pinched his both cheeks.

"fyi mister iwaizumi, were just discussing about the team's performance and besides can't i hug my boyfriend after a long day?" you released his cheeks. you giggled when you saw his red cheeks.

you released from the hug which made him pouty. "you should change while i just check the equipments, okay?" he followed you. and before you knew it, he's already ready to go.

"im walking you home." he said. "aw did my boyfriend miss me too? don't worry i missed you too." you teased him.

"shut up, y/n or you'll regret it."

"ey, why can't you just admit it? poor me. my boyfriend doesn't miss me. i should just go home by my self. heeey! are you listening to me, hajime?"

he abruptly kissed you on your lips. that made you stuck on your feet. you could even feel your face heat up.

"that should shut you up. and fyi mrs. iwaizumi, i missed you too that's why im staying at your house this weekend. so reserve that day only for me, okay?"

he slowly interteined his fingers to yours then kissed you on your nose. oh ghad! when did he become sooo cool????

[blackspoon99]

The Empty Hearse Pt. 1

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: minor Violence, Mentions of suicide and mental illness, Spoilers if you haven’t seen season 3!

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

A/N: This is a reader insert of season 3 of BBC Sherlock. If you haven’t seen season 3, I would definitely skip this series because it wouldn’t make sense and there are definitely going to be some spoliers!

Saturday - 8:37 pm

“Take it outside! Not in my shop!” The café owner yelled while pulling John off Sherlock and into the street. John walked a few feet away, pacing and trying to control his anger. Mary sympathetically handed Sherlock some napkins. He leaned his head back and tried to get his nosebleed under control.

“I don’t understand. I’ve said I’m sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

Mary laughed to herself “Gosh, you don’t know anything about human nature, do you?”

“Hmmm Nature? No. Human? No.” He said with an ironic smile.

John walked back over to talk to Sherlock “I’m going to take Mary home. I’ve had enough of you for the night. Have you seen y/n?”

“Not yet. Do you think the fake mustache was too much? I’d bet y/n would like it.”

John scoffed to himself. “Oh god, Sherlock. What is it going to take for you to realize this isn’t a joke? Don’t you dare do whatever this was to y/n. She hasn’t been the same. You–” He paused and clenched his fists by his sides. Mary put a hand on his shoulder. “You- were not here Sherlock. You didn’t see what it was like. What she was like.” He closed his eyes and turned away. “No, I can’t do this. All I have to say Sherlock is be nice, be kind. For her.” John hailed down a cab while Mary stayed behind.

“I’ll talk him round.”

“You will?”

“Oh yeah,” She said with a smile before following John to the cab.

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Sunday - 10:16 am

The next morning, Sherlock slowly approached the apartment. He was most excited for your reaction. John was still furious with him, but he’d come around. Mary had promised. Sherlock liked her already. You would be over the moon when he came back into your life. Everything would go back to the way it was in time: you, John, and him. Together again in Baker Street.

He walked into the living room. He didn’t see you. Mycroft said you were to come here to pick up a book. He thought it was oddly fitting that your first meeting would be back in Baker Street. It didn’t seem like you were there. Perhaps Mycroft’s surveillance had gone downhill. Sherlock was about to leave when you emerged from John’s old bedroom, holding a book in one hand. You stared down at it, walking over to the bookcases by the fireplace. Sherlock anxiously waited for you to see him standing in the doorway. How happy you would be. He would finally see your face again, hold you in his arms. He’d have you back. You turned to leave and finally, you noticed him.

You let out a startled breath, but you didn’t even look surprised. You just looked sad. Sherlock was silent with anticipation as he waited for you to react. Your face was almost glazed over. Something was wrong. You suddenly dropped the book to the carpet. Sherlock watched as you turned away and with shaky hands, dialed a number on your mobile.

“H-hello? Michelle? I’m sorry to be calling, I know I stopped seeing you a few months ago… it’s just that I-I can see him again. I thought they’d stopped, but he’s back and you said I should call if I…”

His stomach dropped at the realization that you didn’t think he was really there. That’s why you didn’t seem surprised to see him. Sherlock watched as tears formed in your eyes as your voice quivered and stammered on the phone with your ex-therapist. John had said his so-called death had been hard on you, but he hadn’t expected this. You hesitantly looked over your shoulder at him before quickly turning your head back to your phone.

“No, he’s like he was when he was alive this time. It’s not like– you know– when I used to see him there on the pavement.”

Sherlock could feel his heart break a little as you cowered from him near the fireplace. His instincts were screaming at him to say something, to walk towards you, but he was paralyzed. Sherlock stood there for a moment until he realized you were wrapping up your call. He slowly and as quietly as possible backed out of the flat and down the stairs.

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

You hung up the phone and slowly turned around. The image of Sherlock was gone from the door. You sighed in relief, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but you felt sick to your stomach. You tasted salt and became aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks. You were certain you were over this, that you were strong enough not to feel this way anymore, not to see him everywhere. Maybe it was too soon to come back to Baker Street. Then again, it had been 2 years.

Or maybe this is just the way it had to be from now on. You’d go about your business, feel your wounds begin to close but no matter how close you’d think you were getting to healing, no matter what you do, you’d always be just one moment away from falling apart all over again. You figured you should take your therapist’s advice and call John.

You went to pick up the book when you could have sworn you heard the creak of a floorboard on the stairs followed by the sound of the front door closing. Hallucinations don’t make noise. A hot flash ran through you. Your body moved before you could even think. You clambered over to the window, tripping over a loose pile of books. You flung open the dusty curtains and frantically looked out the window. You immediately scanned the crowd on the street below. Just down the block, you spotted a head of curly black hair and a long wool coat.

You snatched up your coat and ran down the stairs, not even bothering to put it on. You threw open the front door just in time to see him turn the corner. You started running, pushing past tourists and pedestrians. The cold air felt like it was burning through your lungs as you sprinted down the sidewalk. Tears were now steadily pouring from your eyes, blurring your vision. You finally rounded the corner and spotted him again.

“Sherlock Holmes!” You yelled, your voice strained and breaking. Sherlock turned around just as you reached him. Still unsure if it was just your mind tormenting you once again, you hesitantly reached for his hand. The moment your ice-cold hand felt a leather glove, a real hand, beneath its touch, you let out a choked gasp. The realization was quickly replaced with blind rage. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. He barely flinched from the impact and looked at you with pure pain in his eyes.

“How could you!?” You screamed, tears uncontrollably pouring down your face. You threw half-hearted punches at his chest. He reached out and gently grabbed your forearms, trying to stop you.

“Y/n I’m so sorry”

“How could you?” You repeated over and over, fighting him. “How could you? How could you? How could you?” Eventually, the rage faded, and you leaned into him and just sobbed “I needed you” You said weakly.

“I know, y/n. I know. I’m so sorry” He said, wrapping his arms around your shivering body.

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A/N: Part 1 of god knows how many. This story will take us through season 3 and end with his last vow. Just getting back into writing and I will try my best to upload the parts semi regularly! 

[wavesmp3]

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :) 

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass. 

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead. 

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before. 

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud. 

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that. 

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were. 

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you. 

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away. 

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it. 

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself. 

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways. 

“So you know now?” 

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident. 

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium. 

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him? 

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead. 

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then. 

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it. 

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The  cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is. 

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite. 

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain. 

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak. 

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him. 

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily. 

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away. 

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him. 

--

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair. 

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

--

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead. 

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday. 

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you. 

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are. 

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand. 

“You’re here.”

--

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why. 

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you. 

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him. 

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them. 

“I’m sick.” 

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question. 

“Again.” 

I’m so sorry. 

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say. 

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital. 

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.” 

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him. 

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him. 

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-” 

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway. 

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.” 

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed. 

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person. 

You sigh. “One more surgery.” 

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.” 

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.” 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.” 

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.” 

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight. 

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be. 

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee. 

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open. 

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively. 

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality. 

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.” 

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back. 

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it. 

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it. 

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in. 

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again. 

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”  

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is. 

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.” 

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him. 

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment. 

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds. 

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest. 

--

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?” 

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does. 

You say yes. 

act iii. scene v. take ii. 

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.” 

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him. 

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him. 

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

[stilltoolazy]

Shadowhunters Fic Progress Update

This time with summaries, because why not.

Malec royalty:

34k words, and counting! Not counting quite so fast anymore though, since I’m at a point where I’ve started editing more than just typos.

Summary: Idris and the Downworld are neighbouring countries who have been at war on and off since the first Downworlder was born. After Valentine’s coup and subsequent death, the Lightwoods took over as the ruling family of Idris.

20-some years later, Alec is kidnapped during a routine mission gone wrong, stripped of his runes, and sent to the Downworld’s High Warlock, Magnus Bane, as a mundane courtesan to get him (Alec) out of the way.

Magnus turns out to be nothing like Alec expected, and the two of them hit it off once Alec realises he will in fact not be forced into prostitution. Their budding relationship is only hindered by Alec’s apparent illness, his secret identity, and the war slowly brewing in the horizon.

Malec Wing-fic:

I haven’t worked on it since last week, so still almost 13k.

Summary: Magnus needs a Dragonstone for a potion, but as both the stone and needing it is rare enough that he doesn’t keep it on hand, he needs to buy it - unfortunately, this specific Dragonstone comes with an actual, tiny dragon attached.

Dragons themselves are even rarer than the stones, thought to be extinct by most, so Magnus won’t harm the little creature, but he can’t very well use the stone with the dragon still clinging to it. Enter Alec, who talks the dragon into a trade, and Magnus into keeping the dragon.

What Magnus doesn’t know is that dragons are actually angelic beings, not demonic or ‘neutral’ as most believe, and that, well. Alec is part dragon.

Jalec Dystopia:

Just short of 600 words + a couple comments Word isn’t counting. This is one of those stories where I dreamt one scene, and decided to work out a story it could fit into (so is the royalty one, come to think of it).

Summary: Jace thought he was normal. A little stronger than most, perhaps, but that’s just life for an orphan in a world like this. And the weird creepy... things that no one else seems to notice? Well, he always had a lively imagination.

When he’s 18 (I think, I haven’t decided yet, but somewhere around there) Jace ends up on a facility where mundanes bring people whom they suspect are ‘gifted’.

Through years of trial and error they have found ways to (with some certainty) determine whether their subjects indeed have ‘gifts’ or not, and they are now working on a way to transfer those gifts to others and/or reliably control those born with them.

It quickly becomes clear that Jace is one of the most powerful subjects they’ve ever had at this facility, and also that he is not willing to cooperate.

Izzy, who is undercover as a scientist, helps him escape before he is transferred to a different facility or killed. She contacts Alec, who helps Jace get out of the city and brings him to the Institute. On the way, Alec tells Jace about the Shadowworld and his place in it, and Jace (after a few stops and starts) learns to trust for the first time since he lost his family.

The new Malec one:

Also haven’t touched this since last week, so almost 1200 words, mostly outline.

Summary: Canon compliant up to like, the last ten minutes of the season 3A finale or something. Magnus doesn’t make the deal with Asmodeus because Lorenzo agrees to help at the last minute (why? Who knows). This sets off a ‘small’ chain reaction that means Magnus doesn’t lose his magic, Clary doesn’t disappear, and Jonathan isn’t resurrected.

The story takes place in the aftermath when, for the first time since Magnus and Alec met, they are not at war. No Valentine, no Lilith, no Jonathan. Just the mess they all left behind.

Alec is busy cleaning up said mess, being dragged on more dates than he necessarily wants to (could they maybe just cuddle up on the couch and talk, every once in a while?), and worrying that he’ll mess up again with Magnus and that this time it won’t just be swept under the rug.

(I’m Laziness on Ao3, where these will all be uploaded when they’re done!)

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 15 (Kiro’s Chapter) Part 4 [Double Courage] & [New Game] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!!! 

I decided to combine 2 parts into one post since 15-5 was short. Enjoy~

For the previous translation of Chapter 15: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

[Double Courage]

There was no sound of footsteps coming and going outside the door and I was the only one left in the empty utility room.

I know he is still outside. Looking at the closed door, I slowly stepped forward and lifted my head.

It suddenly occurred to me, when I first arrived at the hospital after hearing that Kiro had an accident.

At that time, he was also on the other side, refusing me.

I turned around, leaned against the door, and sat down. Soon, the sound of footsteps quietly leaving came to my ears.

I have to admit, I really can’t help him. I am not strong enough to make him feel more at ease.

People need to accept their own weaknesses and limitations in order to think about what they can do from their own perspective.

The whole space is quiet and my heart is surprisingly calm.

I closed my eyes and replayed all the scenes of my time with Kiro over and over again in my mind.

If I were Kiro, why would I need to use another identity while insisting on solving the problem alone?

If I was admitted to the hospital and refused to see anyone, it must be because there is a serious illness and I don’t know how to deal with others.

And I act alone because it may be dangerous and I don’t want to be dragged down by others or….

MC: Drag others down with me.

My brain is spinning so fast. I always feel that there is something that has constantly plagued me and I have come to a conclusion.

MC:…Kiro’s illness has not been cured?

So everything makes sense now.

From beginning to end, he never said why he was admitted into the hospital.

If he was attacked because of what he did, then he abandoned the identity of “Kiro” and acted under the identity of “Helios” which made it even more logical sense.

It is precisely because the illness has not been cured. He cannot expose his weakness but at the same time, he will also worry that he will be a burden to others because of this.

MC: Kiro, are you trying to be strong again?

Secretly covering up his wounds and then create an identity of another person to carry everything on his back.

But this shouldn’t be a world where only superheroes get hurt.

MC: Kilo, display location.

Following my instructions, an electronic map immediately laid out before my eyes. I looked towards the center of the map and was shocked.

Next to the little bear wearing a small flower is another bear.

Helios hasn’t left. He was just outside the door.

I remember coming in, passing by the fire control room.

I thought for a while, not worrying about it anymore, I reached out my hand and touched the head of the little bear that was close to me, as if I could the person behind it.

MC: Kiro, can you hear me?

As I expected, there was no response.

I carefully tapped the microphone on the collar twice and then muttered to myself.

MC: Kiro, I know you are there. You can just treat this as me talking to myself but listen to me, okay?

MC: I know that I am very small and there are many things I can’t do and can’t help much.

MC: I don’t think it is shameful to admit that I am weak, because I know where to move forward after realizing this.

MC: For example, right now I’m thinking, do I have to learn some hacking skills or any combat skills?

There was a vaguely violent cough outside the door and I couldn’t help but smile.

MC: I know you must have encountered something sad.

MC: I also know that I can’t help you with this. You are afraid that I will only worry more so you choose to stay away from me.

MC: But Kiro, do you know?

MC: Sometimes you are a coward and then you make yourself look strong.

Kiro:….MC

Kiro’s dull voice rang in my ears as if it came from the collar and also from the door behind him.

MC: Kiro, you don’t have to be so strong.

MC: Difficulty is like a giant beast with its teeth and claws bared. A little bear will inevitably be nervous and scared when facing it.

MC: But it doesn’t have to force itself to fight alone because if it were two bears, the courage would be doubled.

MC: The weapon to defeat the beast is often not any sharp knife, but the power of courage.

MC: My courage can be lent to you at any time.

There was a small voice and I knew he was listening to me carefully.

MC: I know you are working hard for everyone so I hope I can also help you in some way.

Next, I started to tell him all the information about the hunter game, Joker and the little boy I learned about.

Rather than watching him fight alone, I will accompany the superhero in my own way.

After Helios closed the door of the utility room, he took out the hidden mini computer from under the console of the fire control room.

This is his temporary stronghold. It is located in the center of the city so it is convenient for his system to scan the entire terrain of Loveland City.

After he hacked into the opponent’s map program and was kicked out, he came to a decision.

He wants to build a brand new system to replace the other party’s authority and control over Loveland.

He opened the program on the mini computer and took out another device.

After the device started up, a beam of light projected into the air, showing an unfinished 3D map.

He sat down and flicked his fingers quickly in the air and the program projected in the air began to change with his movements.

This is a program he developed overnight to scan a map of the city and it is more intuitive than a 2D map.

At the same time, he tried to hack into the opponent’s system again, only this time, he did not bother to snatch the program they made.

He just wants to use their system to master the information of all players and all supply points so that he can enter the next step of the plan.

He quickly worked out a plan to end the game, with every step interlocking. And the first step of all plans must be that she can stay safe.

He knows that once Kilo is enabled, his identity will be exposed to the girl.

But in such a chaotic situation, he can no longer consider that much to ensure her safety.

After finding her, his ecstatic mood made him temporarily forget the anxiety caused by those recent events.

He forgot for a while that Kiro is broken, lonely and silent.

When she heard that she was looking forward to meeting the healthy Kiro, he suddenly recovered.

He is no longer the same Kiro, at least not the Kiro she was expecting.

He still couldn’t stand in front of her as Kiro.

The girl’s voice chattered endlessly, but it made him calmer than ever.

When she said that she wanted to learn hacking techniques or combat skills, he couldn’t help but cough.

At that moment, he was sure that she was serious.

She said that he was a coward.

She said that he doesn’t need to be so strong.

Helios tapped his fingers on the keyboard and gradually stopped.

Never compromise, never give up.

He feels his heart slowly being peeled off. There is a force pushing him forward.

She was right. As long as she was by his side, he would gain great courage.

This courage can support him to do many things and make him feel even more strength.

And the information she brought was really helpful to him.

Although he had investigated some information long ago, some of it was the first time he had heard of it.

The name Joker and Evol may be the main messenger of the game and the boy who can provide teleportation for him.

The so-called “ghost” to “human” transmission is actually done by this young man.

He frowned and began to think about what changes his plan needed to make as a result.

Fast fingers flew over the keyboard again and a “beep” came from multiple devices at the same time.

He raised his eyebrows slightly and his eyes showed unstoppable sharpness.

After scanning the three-dimensional map of the city, the player’s information points have been fully entered, the locations of the supply points have been disclosed to him, and the girl’s location information has also been erased from the game.

Helios: This game is mine.

[New Game]

I leaned against the door and suddenly felt a vibration from my phone. When I picked it up, I found that the phone had a black screen.

Before I had a chance to restart it, the screen automatically lit up and then a line of words were displayed.

“Welcome to the new hunter game.”

New hunter game? I was stunned for a moment, before I realized what had happened, the word “hunter” was marked with a red “X” by the animation effect.

MC: Welcome to…..the new hunter game?”

The red animation effect keeps flashing on the screen, seeming to constantly emphasize the concept of “new game”.

Did Joker change the rules of the game? Why cross out the word “hunter”? What does he want to do?

Unsettling emotions came to my mind. I subconsciously wanted to call Helios but I heard a familiar voice come over the phone.

??: Now, the game management rights will be changed.

??: I hereby announce, the new game has officially started.

This voice….is Helios!

I looked at the phone in disbelief and saw the screen change along with his voice.

“Hunter Game Is Out”

Helios: All the rules of the hunter game are invalidated.

Helios: There is only one rule you have to abide by—“No harm to anyone.”

I looked at the big words “NO FIGHT” displayed on the screen and faintly guessed what Helios wanted to do.

Helios: The communication method will now be opened, allowing all players to establish contact.

Helios: The game system adds a help platform and anyone who needs assistance can upload coordinates.

Helios: The map resumes normal use and all supply points will be publicly marked.

When he released these rules, the signal of my mobile phone showed full frame synchronously; a dialog box for help also popped up on the screen.

Then the phone automatically opened a brand new Loveland City map which not only showed the locations of all supply points but also a panoramic 3D map.

Helios: But don’t be too happy. My game will only be harder.

Helios: All of you, still have to follow my rules.

His tone was blunt, as if he was really the master of the game.

I was a little puzzled. Helios is clearly helping everyone to restore peace in Loveland. Why is he deliberately being so cold?

Although the fog has not dissipated, he can directly announce the end of the game. Why would he go the other way and announce the new rules of the game?

At this time, the screen switched to the surveillance on the streets of Loveland City and Helios seemed to have set up thermal imaging technology to clearly see colorful figures on the screen.

After seeing the contents of the surveillance clearly, my eyes widened unexpectedly—

Many people still pushed and scrambled for the aerosol at the replenishment point, fighting hard, and the scene was chaotic.

It seems that the so-called “new game” and “new rules” are meaningless to them.

Faintly, I seem to understand something.

Even if the game itself is stripped away, some people will still be dominated by fear or some kind of temptation and continue to dwell in the cold-blooded fighting.

So is this also Helios’ consideration?

I looked back at the closed wooden door waiting for his answer.

Helios: If someone insists on going their own way and continue to compete for limited resources…

Helios: The aerosol that you’re competing for will be ineffective at the moment.

Before he finished his words, everyone on the screen seemed to be taken aback. Several people raised the aerosols in their hands and panicked.

Helios: This is my game.

Helios: If you don’t believe me, you can try it.

The picture automatically zoomed in and the aerosol in the person’s hand was clearly exposed---the aerosol valve was automatically opened.

The crowd seemed to have finally realized the existence of the new game and stood there facing each other.

This is the meaning of Helios building a new game—

If the game is announced directly, everyone will continue to compete for aerosol if the fog is not effectively resolved.

That’s why he created another image of the game controller and introduced new game rules.

The purpose is to establish authority, let everyone follow his instructions, and get out of the mindset of fighting in a more orderly manner.

Helios: If you want to live, you must act according to my rules.

Helios: All players will be divided into three levels and displayed on your mobile phone screens according to the length of the remaining survival time.

Helios: Sub-level players need to help emergency level players to obtain aerosol.

Helios: The more people you help, the higher the ranking will be.

Helios: The highest-ranked person can still get a generous bonus.

Helios: Remember, “you are the game itself.”

Helios: Looking forward to your wonderful performance.

Helios completely changed the rules of the game.

If it can be executed smoothly, it will make the hunter game lose its original meaning.

It turns out that this is his “own way” to solve the hunter game?

While sighing, I was also a little worried.

The current situation is undoubtedly a huge change for Joker. In order to take back control,  he will certainly not give up.

I was about to remind Helios to be vigilant but suddenly there was a slight noise outside the door. Helios opened the door in the next second.

Helios: Let’s go.

Helios: Someone has snuck in.

-End of Part 4-

Continue to Part 5 

[s-fellows-art]

Simplified tips on how to improve your art.

.putting under cut because its long but thats cause i explain these and not just list stuff. 

1)  Flip/mirror  your canvas when working. - it allows you see anatomy and other errors you may overlook. 

2) before uploading look at the image on a different screen or the next day. - this give you time away from it, and as tempting as it is to upload as soon as your done, if you wait  you will see stuff you can improve on and be able to look at it with “ fresh” eyes. 

3) Stop shading with black or grey scale colors- shading with inly these colors make the imAge look muddy, if you shade with a color that is a darker hue of the same color your adding shading to it one in the same tempters ( warm= R Y O cool = B G I V  on the Rainbow ) you get more vibrant art and you don’t muddy what your working on. 

4) Learn to grey scale BEFORE coloring as a draft p2- learning how to shade in black and white can help you identify lighting points and details. When digital painting simplifying something out to a grey scale can help you keep track of what your doing. 

5) Use the tools you have access too- References to learn anatomy , taking time to learn amniotomy will help you a lot in the long term, but doing everything off the top of your head your bond to get something wrong early on, or even later on in art.  Use the sharpen tool around highlights if your program offers it. It saves time. Also play with your filters and line art colors. These will ad detail to your work and takes less time. If you mess around with the brushes in your program and stuff before starting it will help you later on. Its not cheating professionals use it all the time. 

6) practice drawing random stuff- it teaches you the shapes and trains your hand ti make the strokes/motions needed for basically everything. Art studies can be very helpful. Even if it feels stupid drawing 500 eyes on a note pad, it helps. 

7) Simple is good, complex is chaos- over complex art is hard to look at because your not sure what to focus on so the areas you want the eye to go to is where you should focus your details rather then make every single little thing detailed. Another way to do this is to brighten the colors where you want the eye to go at first glance in an image, but make the other areas muted in color, or blurred slightly.  

8) Don’t be afraid to look up tutorials and take breaks if you get stuck - I personally only learned how to shade faces from watching makeup tutorials. And there is nothing shameful in not knowing how to do something and needing to look it up or ask, its how you learn you can just power you way through it all the time, and somethings your wasting your time if you do for something not worth it in the end run. Also the act if stepping back and away to go do something else is sometimes all you need, sometimes looking at the same file over and over again can be mentally exhausting. Take a break. Drink some water. Stretch your wrists. Look away from it for a while then come back. 

9) Stretch your wrists before working- save your self years if pain trust me. I regret not doing this. Also draw from your shoulder not your wrist unless detailing, less stress on your arm and more precision. 

10) Use different line thicknesses - i find using thicker lines for areas that touch the outer parts of your drawing or more important areas, and using thinner for detailing adds a bit of detail and quality to your work even if the line art isn’t clean. Inner face  parts (other then the top bracket of the eyes), lines between fingers, lines marking clothing folds, and things like that should be done in thinner lines then eyebrows and what not. 

Next two some will role your eyes at but honestly makes a huge difference, even if you got to force it at first. Its hard to break a bad habit.

11) don’t look for flaws in your work, look for what you like about it,- if your constantly pointing out what is wring with what you are doing your not gonna go any where, bare minimum go “ okay im not too happy about this, lets see how we can improve it” instead if “ this looks like garbage I hate it”. If you stay in the mentality of I don’t like this , your never gonna be happy with what your making or improve because subconsciously your telling you self you can’t. This slight change in mind set of trying to find at least one thing you like will make a big difference in the long run because slowly you will be moving towards finding a style your comfortable with and going from there, you will be finding things you

12) don’t compare you self to other artist- its one thing to want to take influence in your fave artist, its another to constantly out yourself down because your not like them. Everyone art started as shit. Everyone. We all were that crappy 1 year old can barely hold a pen person at one point. like learning how to read and write or ride a bike....  No one starts as a perfect artists, its something you learn, so comparing your self to people around you is not gonna help you improve and putting yourself down just because your not perfect yet. Even if its something as little as “im happy I finally finished this” is better then “I wish i was like _”. You are slowly moving towards a goal, some people just move quicker then others because they learn different techniques, instead if putting energy into hating everything you do why not try to learn how the people you like the art of got there by learning some techniques your self? 

13) Ignore the notes enjoy the journey-  Regardless , you making art is amazing in itself . Its something only you have made. There may be other things like it but its not like how you did. Your unique and honestly ignore the notes, if your constantly pushing yourself based off of numbers, your gonna burn your self out and give your self impossible expectations to try to complete. Everyone has different tasted and are not always gonna like what you do the same way, if at all, there is nothing wrong with what you made you simply just can’ please everyone and its not your job to. The notes are a bonus, not a goal, you don’t have to try to compete for them the only person you have to create for for is you. Do what ever the hell you want and if people like it, great, if they don’, then they like a different cup of tea then yours, don’s make it bad tea.  Edit 1 as i thought of more : also the reason your sketch looks better then your line art is because your line art is too neet. If you use difrent thicknesses in lines (thicker for outter areas and important areas) and thinner for areas with more movment (bottom crese of eyes or outline of area around puple inner part of mouth clothing inner parts or what ever u feelis needed) it will look better because it will show your brush strokes which is what makes your sketch look good. -You can also add a 3d effect woth the red and blue outlines on areas that are not the central focus of the peice. Blurring has the same sort of effect to where it forces the eye onto the clearer area if the photo and makes it more visually intresting. Having this effect everywhere however can make stuff hard to focus on and diffcult to look at so only keep it on non focus points (most common focus point is the face so wouldnt put it there) .

Idk how helpful these will be but they made a big diff in my progress over the past year. The last bunch made a significant difference for me, though it was really hard to force myself into that mentality. And i still skip doing some of these in occasion ill admit but i hope this helps none the less.