#so until this is inevitably fixed im just not gonna use it anymore
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twitter addicts gotta be having the WORST time rn
#i never believe that these twitter scares are ever the end of the platform#especially when this happens like every other month#but ngl i dont really like posting to twitter anymore and with this rate limit thing#my engagement on there will be dead#so until this is inevitably fixed im just not gonna use it anymore#i feel a lot more comfortable talking and posting art here anyway#txt#probably delete later
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Ok finished The Boy and The Heron. And I have Thoughts.
THE THEMES!!!! THE SYMBOLISM!!!! THE INEVITABLE MARCH OF TIME BUT WE STILL GO ON. THE "IMPERFECT WORLD TAINTED WITH MALICE" "WORLD FULL OF CHAOS AND FIRE" "PURE VS IMPURE" AHHHHHHHHH
ITS ABOUT GRIEF!!! ITS ABOUT HIW MAHITO LEARNS TO NAVIGATE A WORLD WITHOUT HIS MOTHER AND HIM ACCEPTING NATSUKO AS HIS MOTHER AND THE WAY ITS DONE IS SO GRACEFUL. He starts completely impartial to her. Besides the fact that Natsuko looks like his mother, Mahito is polite but cold to her. And then Natsuko gets "taken". And Mahito decides to go save her, not for himself but for his FATHER!!! (On a side note here, I love how good of a father Mahito has. He's really trying his best here, he dropped everything to look for them and was 110% ready to fight God.) And once Mahito finally gets to her its this beautiful scene of him calling out to her for her to come home with him and hee refusing and Mahito going from calling out "NATSUKO" to "MOTHER"!!!! HE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE ANOTHER MOTHER AND HE MIGHT HAVE FAILED THE FIRST TIME BUT HE WON'T THIS TIME AND AHHHHH!!!!
My brain will not shut up about the one scene where the heron tells Mahito that he can't fix the hole that Mahito made in his beak that's preventing him from transforming. It has to be the one who did the damage that fixes it. It has to be Mahito who fixes it. Do you see where I'm going here. How, as hard as you try, damage has been done and sometimes the damage has to be repaired by the cause.
THE REAL WORLD ATTACHMENT THAT HAYAO MIYAZAKI HAS TO THIS FILM. HE IS THE GREAT GRAND UNCLE. He created this beautiful empire of movies and has left a legacy and the movie ends with the empire/world falling l, with the potential successor turning away from the world and choosing his own path. THE MOVIE IS A LOVE LETTER TO HIS SON AND HOLY SHIT IM NOT GOING TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS FACT.
Little guys. A ghibli movie is not a ghibli movie until it has silly little guys. For this one we got the water water. LOOK AT THEM!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM. I cried when they got eaten and then I cried some more when the old pelican died talking to Mahito. Because they didn't ask for this life where they eat the water water. But they have no choice. And their young don't know how to fly anymore.
Kiriko. Holy fucking shit Kiriko. She's managed to fulfill both the grandma and cool lesbian aunt roles in The Boy and The Heron and holy shit. First time I saw her butch form I. Also the little wood carvings to protect. How they're people from Mahitos world. How Mahito has so many people that care about him. (Look at her she's so)
Himi (Mahito's mother) ISNT AFRAID OF FIRE (how she dies) BECAUSE WHY BE AFRAID OF DEATH? WHY FEAR THE UNKNOWN AND THE END? WHY FEAR THE VERY THING THAT YOU CONTROLLED?
Mahito is super duper fucking unhinged (affectionate). The hospital is on fire, he runs against the crowd to get to his mother. The kids at his new school make fun of him. Next scene has no audio but some cheerful music and is of just Mahito fucking throwing hands. And then Mahito is still angry and full of malice afterwards that he just. Takes a rock and bangs it against his head. Mahito meets the grey heron and he decides that he's gonna kill it. He makes his won bow and arrow. He uses the herons own feather for the arrow. He also reflects his name perfectly. "Mahito" meaning "sincere one". He just says whatever the fuck he's thinking. He does not pull punches.
The book. "How Do You Live?" I Will Be Thinking About This Book So Much. (She left him a book, she left him a book about how to live because she knew that she wouldn't be there to watch him learn how to live but she still wanted to teach him how to live even if it was just beyond the grave through a book)
#this was a religious experience actually#i renounce atheism#my religion is now studio ghibli#anyways thats all i got for now#also kiriko now lives in my head rent free#i saw her and my jaw dropped#spent the rest of the movie thinking about her in the back of my mind#the boy and the heron
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since I'm a gremlin I can ask for a c!Schlatt angst fighting with reader while he's drunk and the reader is just fed up with dealing with him and goes "IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" and just walks away and he realizes the shit he's done?
(the same anon who wasn't prepared to be heartbroken-)
Heartless
Somehow you find your way back to Schlatt again and it never goes as well as you think.
- c!schlatt x reader
- angst
- anon!requested
- part 1 to this story
⚠︎: swearing, angst, alcoholism, mentions of dying, c!quackity makes a appearance, hopefully this is sad enough yall-
An// i decided to make this a part 2 to Have a Heart! So I hope you enjoy love!
The night is still cold and dark as you begrudgingly walk back to one of the buildings that was put up to replace whatever L'Manburg was there before.
After Dream's word you had still contemplated going back to Schlatt. He doesn't deserve what you do, but you still end up walking along the Prime Path back to the drunken man. You had no end goal and that was a problem. You probably were going to be embarrassed that you came back to him. You couldn't let Schlatt die, from either the hands of someone else or let him die from himself.
You eventually found yourself in front of the metal doors that led into endless hallways of offices nobody occupied. The offices that had wine and cigarettes for Schlatt to smoke just in case he decided to have a meeting in a room that isn't the official meeting room.
Walking down the hallways you saw that most of the doors to each office were open and most of the alcohol and cigarettes were taken from each room. You peaked inside every room to see if Schlatt was in there, but something in you told you not to because you weren't prepared. What were you going to say? Stop drinking? Because you're sure he'll know he's not going to stop. You want to try to save him.
You slowly opened a door to reveal an office that looked an absolute mess. The small refrigerator was knocked over and all of the wine off the shelf was either shattered on the floor or gone. There were cigarette butts on the ground and lit a cigar, there were also papers and folders all across the room.
You whispered as you walked around the lit room "Schlatt must've been in here."
"Sure as hell he was!"
You spun around to see Quackity looking disheveled as ever. He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, his beanie threatened to fall off of his head and his suit now only a white button up with his dress pants still on.
"I've been running around this goddamn place trying to keep that ram man at peace! He's gonna drink himself to death." Quackity huffed while looking around the hallway.
"I know."
"That's why you're here huh?"
You sighed at the realization. "Yes it is. I don't want him to drink himself to death. Death isn't what I want."
"Well, it's too late for that." Quackity faced away from you not wanting to look you in the eyes.
You stayed silent until Quackity spoke up again.
"You want me to take you to him? Wanna see him one last time before he dies-"
"Don't say that!" You rolled your eyes
"Are you fucking kidding me? It's inevitable Y/N! His body is now 70 percent alcohol and his lungs are filled with smoke!" Quackity laughed in disbelief. "I don't want him to die! But its fucking inevitable. Either from someone else or-"
"Himself." You finished his sentence.
"Exactly!" He opened his mouth to speak again but apparently decided against it.
Quackity began to lead you out of the office and down the long hallway you two walked slowly not even knowing where Schlatt was in the whole building. You and Quackity made small talk.
"I hate this. I had to find this liquor and deliver it to him and now I can't find him."
"I came here to try and save him from himself and you're here feeding the problem."
"What else do you want me to do?" He grunted.
"Stop him!"
"If I stop him he's gonna be even worse so-!" Quackity threw up his hands in frustration as you two kept walking.
"I actually have something to tell you." Quackity spoke up after the silence.
"Quackity! Ah there you are!" Schlatt came around the corner behind you both and you turned around to meet the man you both have been looking for stumbling down the hallway.
"Ah you bitch! I thought I told you to leave!"
"Here we go." You rolled your eyes.
"Hey Schlatt! Here's the Liquor you wanted!" Quackity tried to liven up the situation by reaching the bottle out to Schlatt.
"He doesn't need it."
"Yeah I do, who are you to tell me what to do!" Schlatt yelled, not even taking the drink out of Quackity's hand.
"Schlatt just calm down-"
"No! They made a mistake and they cant even do what I fucking say! They'll keep coming back to me, against my wishes!" Schlatt interrupted Quackity while flailing his arms around.
You stood still not wanting to hear him anymore. Ever since he won the presidential debate the first couple of months he's been sober with only a few drinks here and there. Now he's a full on alcoholic, only damaging himself and his presidency. It's a sad sight to see and you don't want to see it, so you can either run away and know it's still there or fix it and never see it again.
"Schlatt I want to help." You hesitated before stepping forward.
"Same here Schlatt." Quackity agreed with you.
"You, you! Aren't any help!" He pointed directly at you while trying to keep himself upright.
"How aren't I any help!?" You yelled back. "I've done everything for you and now you're digging yourself a grave Schlatt!"
"You think you're the best thing ever huh?! Im fucking fine! I can stand on my own two fucking feet!"
Schlatt wasn't standing up straight, he was stumbling either backwards or forward. His body threatened to fall onto the marble floor and he couldn't even stand up straight. His speech was slurring together as well you could barely understand him.
You finally responded to Schlatt. "Schlatt you're stumbling around like- like I don't even know what! I can't understand you and you just need to stop!"
"You're so useless! Not useful to me or my presidency! I can stand up straight and I'm completely fine shut the fuck up!" He yelled while leaning to the side.
"I'd rather die alone! Without you or Quackity." Schlatt yelled again
"That's what you're going to do anyways." Quackity whispered under his breath.
Schlatt kept babbling nonsense as his back slid down one of the walls as he sat on the floor. Head pulled to the side. It was a sad sight to see, you hated to see this man drink himself to death and apparently Quackity, who was looking at the ram man the same way, standing silently next to you.
"Schlatt this-"
"I dont fucking care what you think! You're the worst person I've ever met! You both made my life hell and that's why Im fucking drinking my life away so I wont see any of you're fucking faces!" Schlatt tried to stand up but failed in doing so.
He continued talking. "I am the best thing that happened to this country! I saved both of you from a tyrant! And you thank me by driving me into this state!"
You felt your eyes threatening to spill tears the second time today.
"Schlatt that isn't me that's doing this shit!"
"How the fuck would you know?!"
"I can't. But Ive done every fucking thing for you! You cannot say I haven't!" You yelled back as he rolled his eyes with a rebuttal already on the tip of his tongue.
"Sure as hell I can! I have fucking proof-!"
"What proof?!" You interrupted his babbling even though he kept going.
"I- I!" he stammered not having a rebuttal this time.
"You're incapable of doing anything Schlatt let someone help you for fucks sake-"
"I'd rather die alone than sit here and be lectured by the likes of you!" Schlatt yelled.
"You are going to die alone, old man!" Quackity spoke up. "That's what they're trying to tell you!"
"You shouldn't be giving me a lecture! Im the mother fucking president! I should be talking, but apparently its not fucking work-"
"IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" You interrupted him and stomped down the hallway for the second time today.
As you walked down the hallway you heard a faint "wait" from Schlatt on the floor. You stopped and looked back to see Schlatt looking at you with some sort of realization in his eyes. Quackity was standing over him shaking his head.
"You know what? I don't even know why I helped you. Probably for power, but I don't need you for that." Quackity walked away towards your way. "Go ahead and die alone like you said old man."
Quackity caught your gaze and he smiled and shook his head again. He finally reached where you were standing and started talking to you.
"Maybe this isn't a good time, maybe it is. But I am joining Pogtopia. Wilbur said he needs a lot of people for this to work so consider this an invitation." He gave you a thin lipped smile and walked past you giving you a good look at Schlatt, laying fully on the ground.
"Y/N wait, just hold on for a second." Schlatt said while on his side, not even bothering to look at you.
You didn't say anything and followed Quackity's path, down the hallway and out of the door. Behind you, you could only hear the distant groans and pleas of the drunken man behind you. You tried your best to help and that's all you could do. But you couldn't watch that man die.
Taglist: MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @alec-lost-bee @egorldevi
#mcyt blurb#mcyt x reader#mcyt fluff#mcyt angst#mcyt headcanons#dream smp x reader#schlatt x y/n#schlatt x you#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x y/n#jschlatt x reader#c!schlatt x reader#platonic mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt imagine#mcyt fanfiction#quackity x reader#dsmp x reader#schlatt imagine#schlatt angst#schlatt fluff#quackity angst#mcyt x platonic reader#c!schlatt imagine#c!quackity x reader#mcyt writers#mcyt writing#mcyt reader insert#mcyt requests
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Tiny Vessels
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV)
Summary: Spencer is done trying to lie to himself about his true feelings in his relationship, but not done lying to Reader.
A/N: IM BACK!!! So as y’all know I got really sick towards the end of my 30 fics in 30 days event- I’m still going to release the last few fics I missed (and we’re all just gonna pretend it’s still April 😂) this one was requested by @zhuzhubii it’s actually my second song fic and is based on the song tiny vessels. I’m actually super proud of this one and I’m happy to get back into the swing of things with writing 🥰 Also my 1500 follower celebration will likely wait until I finish up the backlog of fics so I don’t overwhelm myself! Feel free to leave me an ask here (I promise I don’t bite) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+, Toxic relationship, Lying about feelings and intentions, Brief illusions to sex, Using someone only for their body
Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.3k
The moment I knew, had been a long time coming. It had been just after post coital bliss had faded around me, reality creeping in on the sides as it tried to take hold of me. It had been trying to tell me something, something I had denied for so long. No amount of tossing and turning would banish the slowly creeping in thoughts that attempted to plague my mind. If I had turned and tossed anymore, my partner right beside me would ask what was wrong, and I knew I couldn’t answer it. At least I couldn’t answer it honestly without tearing down what we had built up for ourselves. I never had much that I say I built myself, and even though the foundation was about to cave in, I wouldn’t take the sledgehammer to it myself.
I remember when I told them the first time I told them ‘I love you’. It had been an almost identical situation to where we were now. Two people, naked underneath the sheets, so close physically yet so far emotionally, though I covered that up with my honeyed words of promise.
I always wanted to believe the words I spoke to them, the promises I gave them. Each time I choked out the words, dripping in sentiment and sap I tricked them, and myself into believing them.
Unlike my counterpart I couldn’t fully escape into ignorant bliss. They didn’t know, but I knew deep down everytime I burst open their door after coming home from a rough case. We moved through the dark almost every time, as it was the only time I was available, and it hid my pained expressions pretty well.
All the friends I was telling about our relationship were even convinced too, though I could see a sneaking suspicion crop up in Emily’s eyes every once and a while when I mentioned them. I didn’t tell them the reality, the one that I avoided myself.
It was all for the flesh, nothing of substance lurked underneath, at least for me. Every bite I gave them left a mark, tiny vessels able to be seen creeping up on their skin even in the dark. I claimed them even if I didn’t let them be mine; they could never claim me. They had said they didn’t want those marks to fade, but they inevitably did, showing how hollow my words had been before I nipped at their skin. Once I realized how they faded, how non committed the marks were on their skin, I faded too. I still indulged in the pleasures they freely wanted to give me, but I let my words remain hollow, accepting their meaning without admitting it out loud.
And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.
Their beauty was unparalleled, it always had been to me. Time and realization had not changed that thought in my mind, though I had lied to myself about the depth of those thoughts. Every brushed touch against their body sent me into a blaze, though it took too long for me to admit that that was the only thing about them I thought about at night.
Their giggle did not make my chest feel light, and our conversations that edged on deep discussions only stimulated my mind because I forced it. Their moans and the softness of their skin were what made me call them at the dead of night, masking it by saying ‘I missed you’. I would then inevitably pivot away from talking about our feelings so I could hear their moans through the speaker of my old phone I only kept around for work, and to call them.
All I see are dark grey clouds now, ruining whatever utopia I had crafted in my mind once I had come to conclude what my real feelings were. If I was honest with myself, it had been lingering at the back of my mind for months now. By now the lie was too hard to escape, and their body felt too good underneath me to let go.
It was vile, and it was cheap of me to trick them for so long into believing that the words whispered into their skin in the dead of night held any true emotion. A kiss on their bare shoulder with a soft rasp of how much they meant to me. Kisses that had been given along the slopes of their pretty face with little whispers of ‘I love you’ in between before I had met their lips with mine.
Another kiss, the last one placed on their forehead given to them after I had promised to bring them the world. And they were all vile, and cheap lies.
Yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
My thoughts swirled as I continued to stare at them, boring holes into their skin just from my gaze. Guilt nipped at my heels each time another harsh reality tried to slap me across the face, trying to get me to stop trapping them in something I already knew was hollow at its core. Denial was easy when no one else was calling me out for it; something in me almost wanted them to say it, to leave so I would be able to stop living this pathetic lie.
At some point they had sensed my eyes on their body, then looking over at me. Their lips turned downward into a frown, probably after successfully reading the expression on my face. Normally whenever I fixed my gaze on them it was out of admiration, unfortunately if I was going to be honest with myself, it was never because of what lies beneath. I couldn’t force myself to look any deeper than their body.
Too bad being a profiler hadn’t given me the ability to be a good liar, and I wondered if they had figured out long ago that my promises intermingled with kisses were a thinly veiled lie. Maybe they were lying to themselves still.
In the distance, my guilt moved closer every hour.
It would soon swallow me up whole, consuming me when they asked a simple question, “Is something wrong?”
My breath got caught up tight in my chest, my shame welling up so high up it stole my voice for a moment. In the moment that passed, they cocked their head to the side in question innocently. It was almost as if they were mocking the feelings eating at me, showing me how much I was missing by not developing true feelings for them. Damn, right there’s something wrong, but I won’t speak it out loud to let you know.
I felt disgusted with myself, and all I could wonder is if they felt the same way as I did. Wondering did nothing to ease the guilt inside, even as I tried to justify what I was doing.
It would be easier in some regards to come clean about what I was doing, to face the guilt head on. I was a creature of habit however, and hiding in the corners of my mind was one of the things I did best.
So, no we won’t talk about it, because I wouldn’t tell them. I leaned forward to kiss them on the lips, another promise to never let them go that was filled with nothing but lies. The kiss seemed to banish any worry that they still held in the crease of their forehead, their head was now cocked to the side to slant their lips across mine instead.
It was our last kiss of the night, before they went back to their own apartment tonight. My hands roamed up their sides, mapping out every dip and curve with my fingers. It was what I really cherished about them, even if it did make me sick on the inside. Though, I didn’t feel sick enough to say anything more, and I let them go, both of us pretending that it was something more. And, the only reason we were allowed to pretend was because I would not divulge the true reason I gave them those tiny vessels on their neck.
Ask Me Anything
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All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith @sydneekomspacekru
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty @nomajdetective @go2sleepdummy
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#mgg#mgg x reader#30 fics in 30 days
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colors ; k.th
part of the badlands series!
colors: “you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece.”
based off halsey’s badlands album.
warnings and other: museum curator!taehyun, old money!y/n, mentions of depression and grass smoking, little bit of angst i guess??
taehyun sighed as he took down the 11th painting this week. the museum hadn't been very busy in the past couple of weeks, maybe because the weather was getting colder. one part of him figured that many people just wanted to be bundled up at home watching holiday themed movies and drinking warm drinks rather than appreciating enchanting artworks.
he couldn't fool himself though, he knew the truth. today's generation didn't care about the fine arts anymore. a shame, seeing as everything around them seemed to be inspired by it.
kang taehyun worked at his local museum. he had been offered the position by the owner one night while roaming the place. this should've been a red flag looking back. the owner seemed desperate for someone to fill in the position since the previous employee had left without notice. nonetheless, taehyun took the job and didn't regret it one bit.
open 24/7, the red haired boy was always working on the clock. not that there was much to do seeing as most of the people his age or even a bit older didn't hang around museums purely for the joy of it. actually, his only job was to exhibit the newly arrived collections, clean and dust them off, and conduct regular tours and workshops for the public. due to this and the fact that not many people even came by he would take regular breaks.
once in a while you'd see the occasional old person or art expertee roaming around the small museum. if you were lucky, you'd see the local edgy teens posing next to a piece they didn't understand just to get an aesthetic picture. taehyun would also have the unfortunate job of shooing them away or scolding them for getting just a bit too close.
recently his boss, who was the museum manager and maybe the only other person besides taehyun that worked there, had informed him that due to funds and unfortunate unforeseen events, the museum would be closing down in about a month from now. this caused taehyun to fall deep into a depression since this was his only job and he loved it here. the museum was like his second home. he found comfort in the silent images displayed throughout the building. they always told him a story and when new pieces came in he would sit and stare attentively at the new anecdote being told to him.
taehyun smiled sadly at the piece he had just taken down. it was a painting of 2 people kissing however both of their faces were covered by white cloths. this was his favorite and he didn't even have a clue as to why. probably because of the uncertainty of what the other was feeling or because of the fact that the other couldn't see each other's faces through the cloth, that would've made the kiss more exciting in his opinion.
he stepped out of the museum and into the frosty air of the outside world. it was only autumn so why was it so cold? he thought to himself. he discreetly pulled out a prerolled blunt and his white lighter from his pocket. he lit it and stuck in between his slightly chapped lips.
maybe smoking dope wasn't the healthiest thing in the world, especially for a boy so young, barely 19, but it helped taehyun get his mind off the inevitably of losing his job and being homeless for the winter. he shuttered at the thought. he would have to room with one of his friends, he sighed shaking his head. no, he didn't want to be a burden, yeonjun had helped him enough as it is.
he looked at his surroundings taking in the cold autumn afternoon. the trees had long lost their leaves and were bare. the sky was a murky gray color as if it were threatening to rain any time soon. he noticed a girl bundled up in winter clothes near the entrance of the building glance at him. he smiled at her and she jumped at the eye contact, thinking that he wouldn't catch her. taehyun chuckled as he watched her rush into the museum. "back to work," he said out loud to himself.
once the blunt had been almost gone, he smoked what was left of it and headed back into the empty museum. he was feeling light-headed, the effects of the blunt finally taking action, but taehyun was used to it so it barely affected him as much.
he made his way to the girl who was now starting to take off her jacket and scarf. taehyun tapped on the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "hi," he smiled at the girl, showing off his dazzling smile. "if you'd like, i could give you a tour of the museum." well what's left of it anyways, he thought to himself.
"oh...no thank you," said the girl. she smiled warmly at the worker. "well not to be invasive of your decision but it's sort of in my job description," taehyun replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. the girl sighed in defeat, "i guess i have no choice then."
taehyun laughed as he took her coat and scarf to hang up in the public closet, "yep, trust me. they say im not that bad of a tour guide, im quite fun to be around if i do say so myself. i promise not to bore you too much." the girl nodded, not entirely convinced. "if i do end up bored i will hold you accountable..." she took a moment to take a peek at taehyun's name tag, "kang taehyun," she joked.
as they walked through the museum the girl couldn't help but notice that it was fairly empty. "why are there almost no paintings in here?" she laughed hesitantly. "i thought this was a museum?" taehyun stopped walking, turning to her with a sad expression on his face.
"the museum is expected to close in about a month or so," he stated simply. "oh...that's terrible. may i ask why?" the girl responded. "my boss says we've run out of funds or something like that," taehyun chuckled bitterly. "people don't really give a shit about good art these days anyways."
"that's a shame..."
they continued to look through the various paintings that were still up and occasionally the girl would ask to see the ones that were taken down and left on the floor. it seemed the two were lost in each other's company as night started to approach.
"thank you for the tour of this lovely museum taehyun. it was fun but it's a shame such a nice museum like this is closing down," the girl said softly. taehyun nodded solemnly, he just wanted to get this day over with and crash at his apartment. he didn't blame the girl before him but talking to her reminded him of his harsh reality. a notification coming from the girl's bag made both of them jump as they were both lost in their thoughts.
"ah, that must be my father. he's kind of annoying when it comes to my curfew," she chuckled, digging her phone from her bag. taehyun watched her with a bored expression until his eyes reached her bag. he hadn't noticed this earlier but she had been carrying a louis vuitton bag. his eyes bulged at the expensive item that was so close to him, they got even larger when she fished out the latest iphone from it.
taehyun wasn't poor per se, he had just enough to get by since he was living paycheck to paycheck. however, he had never been in such close proximity to any luxury items. he suddenly felt weird being this close to this girl.
"what do you mean by curfew?" taehyun asks hesitantly. the girl sighs, "my father is one of south korea's richest chaebol's, maybe one of the big three at his point." she rolled her eyes as if this information was nothing. "he's super strict with me because i guess i'm just his show pony daughter whom he can show off to say he's a good father."
taehyun gulped, had he just been casually hanging out with the daughter of one of the richest men in korea? he felt sick at this. she looked up at taehyun's uneasy expression, "oh my god im sorry i just dumped that all on you! i just needed to catch a break so i came here, i didn't mean to drag you into my life story."
taehyun fixes his face, laughing nervously, "no- no its fine really. we all need a break sometimes right? im glad you got to have that time here." the girl smiled up at him, completely misreading his nervous laughter, "im glad i got to spend it here with you taehyun."
"oh before i go!" taehyun watched her pull out a checkbook from her bag and his stomach dropped. he silently watched her scribble some stuff onto the slip and tear it out, handing it to him.
"there's not too much i can take out of my account without my father flipping out but i hope this helps even just a little. whether it be in your personal life or with the museum."
taehyun eyes the check and chokes when he sees 50,000 dollars written neatly on the black line. he swears he can feel sweat going down his face like in the cartoons. "i- i cant possibly take this from you." he moves to hand the check back but the girl refuses to take it back. "taehyun, you love this museum with your entire being. i see the way to look at the paintings and the passion with which you explained them to me. i'd hate to see that taken away."
"plus, if you're gone who's gonna give me the tour when i come back?" she laughs as if this is something casual. taehyun's hands shake as he pockets the check, "i seriously cannot thank you enough...you don't know how much you just helped the museum and m-"
the girls phone dings again and she grumbles, "ugh why can't he just leave me alone. sorry but i think i really gotta go for real before he tracks my location or something crazy like that."
taehyun nods wistfully at the mention of her having to leave. he was really starting to enjoy her company.
"oh by the way," the girl giggles as she pulls her coat on hurriedly. "was that you smoking weed at the corner of the museum earlier?" the girl chuckled to herself again just remembering it. taehyun furrowed his eyebrows, "why would you say that kind of thing at out loud and at my job?!" he scolded in a playful hushed voice.
"i just thought it was funny and you also smelled of weed the entire tour, i didn't mind though so don't worry," the girl concluded. she was starting to walk away towards out the door now. "i'll walk you out," taehyun offers. "such a helpful employee. is this in the job description too?" the girl jokes, turning to him while a smile on her lips. "well, not exactly," taehyun says smoothly.
she shakes her head, "i'll see you soon taehyun." he watches her walk off into the darkness of the night when he suddenly remembers something.
"hey what's your name by the way?" he shouts after the girl. for some reason taehyun really was hopeful of seeing her again.
"y/n!" came the disembodied voice of the girl he had just met.
#kang taehyun#taehyun#taehyun imagines#fluff#taehyun reactions#taehyun drabbles#taehyun drabble#taehyun imagine#txt imagines#tomorrow x together#drabble#taehyun fluff#txt fluff#tomorrow x together imagines#txt headcannons#txt reactions#txt scenarios#taehyun timestamps#taehyun fic#taehyun x reader#Spotify
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i’d be home with you // knj
summary - death is inevitable, it’s something you cannot escape. it only hurts more when it you die too young.
pairing - ghost!namjoon x female! reader
genre - angst, hurt/comfort; ghost au
word count - 7.7k
warnings - peer pressure, drugs, alcohol consumption, anxiety attack, major character deaths (duh), police, accidental deaths, crying, vomiting, drinking as a coping mechanism, communicating with the dead, psychics, moving on, acceptance of death
author’s note - this is for the final tile in my bingo ‘ghost au’. this really hurt me writing it and im sad, but i hope you guys like it
Namjoon had a lot of regrets, despite living a fairly cautious lifestyle. But since he died all he had left was regretting stuff he didn’t get to do sooner. Dying at 23 via accidental overdose? Hell of a way to die when he was someone who struggled to even tell a waiter that they gave him the wrong order, but that’s how he met his end.
There were so many things he didn’t get to experience: getting his Masters, graduating college, finding the love of his life, having children with said love of his life, growing old, retiring, spending time with grandkids if he had any. But all of that was cut short by just one single party and one single decision.
His brother, Seokjin, dragged him along to one of his dumb frat parties. All Namjoon wanted to do that evening was just study for his anthropology final that was coming up the following weekend but in his brother’s terms he needed to quote-unquote “Take a chill pill”. He dragged him over to some random townhouse a couple miles away from the university, handed him a cup of alcohol and abandoned him.
Namjoon didn’t drink, just didn’t think it was all that appealing to him. He sat silently in the corner of the room, keeping himself flush to the wall. He pretended to sip the plastic cup that was in his hand, trying not to draw any attention to himself whatsoever. It wasn’t until he was approached by a young brown haired man that his fate was sealed.
“‘Sup man, you look like you need a bit of fun.” The man said, a small smirk on his lips as he raised a small baggie of white pills.
“I- uh, I’m good. Thanks.” Namjoon quickly panicked, turning him down and quickly started looking around for his brother. This wasn’t his scene. He just wanted to go home now.
“Nah, come on man! You look like you need a bit of destressing, just take a couple. On the house.” He watched in abject horror as the guy opened the maggie and poured some into his hand. He took Namjoon’s free hand and put the pills in his palm. “Go on! Feels great.” He winked at him as he leaned against a wall, waiting for him to take the drugs.
Despite only the stranger’s gaze on him, he felt like everyone at the party was staring at him. Waiting for him to take the pills. His heart was pounding, he should give them back and just walk home. With or without Seokjin. Instead he found himself slowly lifting the pills to his mouth, throwing them in and taking a swig of the cup in his hand to wash it down. The alcohol was bitter on his tongue and they clumped together as they went down his esophagus.
“Yeaah man!” With a heart shaped smile, the man slapped him on the shoulder, “Enjoy it man. See me if you need anymore later.” And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Namjoon just stood there, head pounding as the lights bleared his vision and he swear he could feel the floors vibrate beneath his feet with the base of the stereo. Despite him not even moving, he felt like he was spinning and hanging upside down. Was it getting hot in here? Why did his limbs feel cold? He pushed himself from the wall, pushing his way through the sea of people between him and the way out.
“Heyyy!! Joonie! Get over here!” The voice of his brother called out to him, he turned to see the man himself walk over to him and pull him out of the crowd. “I see you were gettin’ jiggy, eh? Finally letting loose?”
“Jin, I-I don’t feel so good. I need-”
“Oh quit it Namjoon!” Seokjin scoffed at him. “Just take another drink and chillax!” He took the cup in his hand and brought it to Namjoon’s lips, forcing him to gulp down more of the burning liquid.
With that, his brother walked away. He felt himself get sucked back into the crowd of dancers, pushing and pulling him in all directions. His heartbeat was in his head, the base of the music was in his stomach. His chest was tight and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he knew at this point was the people he was surrounded by. Dancing, screaming, singing. It was loud and hot and nauseating. Yet despite the heat of the bodies around him, he felt cold. All he knew was what was in that crowd of people: sweat, heat, and constant movement.
After that the world just seemed to turn black.
He woke up the next early morning to sirens; red and blue lights flashing outside the windows. That should’ve been his first clue. His second clue should’ve been the lack of a hangover he should be having. Namjoon walked down the hallway he was in and into the living room where a couple he didn’t know were talking to police, alongside a few other party goers were all sitting on the couch.
“H-hey what’s going on?” He asked as he approached them, but he was ignored. “Um, hello?” He waved his hand, trying to catch their attention. He felt his chest tighten, what was going on? Why were they ignoring him? When he heard an officer call out for a Mr. Kim, he almost cried from relief, “That’s me!”
But the officer walked right past him and out onto the porch, where a young man sat with a blanket laid over his shoulders. “Mr. Kim, I’m sorry to bug you at this time but we need a statement.” The man said to him. The young man nodded and stood up to face the officer. To Namjoon’s horror it was Seokjin, his eyes red and puffy. He’d never seen his brother look so distraught. “Are you alright for me to ask you a few questions?”
“Yeah,” his voice croaked out.
“Did Namjoon, or anyone else in your family, have a history of drug abuse?” The question threw him for a loop.
“No!” He yelled at the officer. “I have never-”
“No, he-” Jin cut him off with a sniffle. “He’s never used drugs before, I dragged him out to this party. And-and it’s my fault he’s dead.”
Namjoon’s entire world seemed to collapse in on itself. “What?! I’m not dead! I’m right here! Seokjin! Seokjin, look at me!” He cried out as he tried to push past the threshold of the door but some invisible force kept him in. “Seokjinnie, please! Hyung!” He screamed as he watched the officer place a hand on his shoulder as his older brother sobbed.
He looked ahead of them and saw a white van labeled ‘CORNOR’ just shut its doors, only giving him a split second to see the tell-tale black body bag inside before the other door shut.
At that moment, another officer walked out the front door. Walking right through him. He watched as the man visibly shuddered before talking to the officer about giving Seokjin more time before asking questions. The air left his lungs, not that he had any in there to begin with. He clutched his chest and ran. He ran through the walls of the town house towards the back door, only for the same thing to happen at the front door happen again. An invisible barrier holding him in.
He needed to be in an enclosed space. Glancing around, he saw an open closet tucked beneath the small staircase to the master bedroom. Namjoon burst into another run and slammed the door of the closet shut and let out an ungodly scream; crying out for his mother, brother, someone, anyone to hear him and tell him it was going to be okay. The only person came was an officer to investigate the slam but no one else came. No one saw him.
He died August 28th, 1994. He was 23 years old. Cause of death was drug induced heart attack. The pills the stranger gave him were part of a bad batch or laced with something else, at least that’s what the owner’s of the house mentioned when he listened in on their conversations. At first he felt bad about it, but he couldn’t leave the townhouse so what else could he do? Watch paint dry?
After a while the frat guys who lived in the house moved out, not feeling comfortable with knowing that a guy died in their hallway on their watch. Namjoon didn’t hold any ill will towards them. It wasn’t their fault. Hell, he was such a forgiving person, he wasn’t even that mad at the guy who gave him the drugs. So he didn’t know exactly why he was stuck here, in a small townhouse. But there he was. And he tried his best to deal with it.
While it certainly did suck the first few months of just trying to deal with people walking through him and not being able to be heard; being dead wasn’t so bad when Namjoon thought about it. It did get a bit lonely sometimes, not being able to talk to anyone outside of his own half conversations with the tenants that moved into the townhouse.
Sometimes the tenants of the house figured out that the place was haunted; sometimes they’d bring in psychics, who were definitely fake as no matter how much he tried to tell them he was a nice ghost they always spouted some bullshit of a vengeful spirit. Sometimes they’d bring in their own ghost equipment and start talking, but soon as he got a word out they freaked and left. The place was constantly on and off the market until you.
You were a plucky university student who finally found a place that had low enough rent and was close enough to your school that you didn’t need a roommate. Despite Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s begging, you wanted a place to yourself and finding a 2 bedroom townhouse with rent that cheap? It was a steal! With the help of your two friends plus your older brother Yoongi, you were able to get all your stuff moved in within the day!
You didn’t understand why the place never had steady tenants; sure there was a history of noises and cold spots, but it was an old house built in the 70s. Of course it’s gonna have some old stuff that needs fixing.
Namjoon watched in silence as the four of you went in and out of the house. A few times you did walk near him and visibly shiver, your friends even mentioned the cold spots to you, but you waved it off as if it was nothing. “Just the heater, I’ll talk to the landlord. See if he can do anything about it.” Now he wasn’t an engineer or anything, but he’s seen the heater and there’s nothing wrong with it, it was definitely him you were feeling. But he just had hopes that whoever the landlord hired would say the same to you.
He was quickly able to get a quick gage on your friends; the brown haired one being Jungkook, he could easily tell he was the youngest of the group by how the rest of you babied him. The blue haired one was Taehyung, but there was something about him that was familiar almost. He reminded him of his brother, how handsome he was. Lastly the dark haired man was Yoongi, at first he wasn’t sure about your relationship to him, seeing how he was the oldest out of all of you, but he quickly came to realize you were siblings by the way you teased each other. He found a lot of joy watching the four of you bicker and talk as you all set up certain aspects of your new place.
“Are you sure you don’t want a roommate?” Jungkook whined as he brought in the last of the boxes. “I swear, I’ll do all the laundry and chores just pleaaasee?”
“Sorry, Jungkookie.” You laughed at your friend. “But the lease is signed and I got everything I want planned out already. You can go room with Taehyung!”
“But he gets paint all over my shit though!” He groaned as he set the last box down on the counter.
“Hey, if she says she’s okay for her own place I believe her.” Yoongi said as he left your room. “Your bed is all set up by the way.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Thank you, Yoongle.” You smile at your older brother, happy he was able to get your bed together before it was too late in the day. “Now I just gotta find my sheets and I’ll be able to sleep in bed.” You chuckled.
“Which are right here,” You turn to see Taehyung holding a bag full of your blankets and pillows. “Want me to bring them over to your room?” He tossed his head in the direction of where you claimed your bedroom would be.
“Please and thank you!” You gave him a wide smile as he made his way down towards your room to drop them.
“You sure you don’t want me to spend the night tonight?” Yoongi asked, “First nights are scary, believe me.”
“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry!”
And you were. You thought you’d have a bit of difficulty adjusting to being alone, but for some reason you didn’t really feel alone? If that made any sense. You’d think after living with your brother the past few years you’d instantly notice being alone. Physically you knew you were but at the same time, deep down you knew you weren’t. Whatever this feeling was, you didn’t mind it. Hell, the weird feeling comforted you. Helped you prove to your brother that you didn’t need any extra help.
Namjoon was kinda baffled at how willfully ignorant you were. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve moved in and he notices you do tend to lose stuff and don’t really question it when he suddenly places it where you can easily find it again. He likes watching you get ready and organizing your place. (Of course, when he sees that you’re getting dressed or getting ready for bed he’ll give you your privacy.) Sometimes he’ll kinda give some ghosty help and straighten up some of the crooked frames you hung up. Being the friendly ghost roommate he is.
You called the landlord not too long ago and he said that a lot of the past tenants had complained about it not working or it always being cold in the house so he told you he was just going to replace it. You were excited! Brand new heater! And with the nights starting to get colder, you’re really going to need it.
It was on a Tuesday when the landlord came to change the heater, which was strange. Namjoon watched as you let the landlord in to work as you left for your early morning class, now the few times he’s seen the landlord and stuff being fixed is few. Normally he’ll have a professional come over and work on it, that’s what happened a few years ago when he accidentally shoved a spoon down the kitchen drain and the tenant called his services.
He watched with curiosity as the landlord dragged in the brand new heater, box in all, as well as his tool box and got to work. Something in the back of Namjoon’s mind didn’t feel right, so he kept an eye on the man as he installed the heater himself. Again, he wasn’t an electrician and knew nothing of installing heaters, but he knew that he was doing it wrong. He was pushing and slamming against it, trying to get it to fit on the pipes. Namjoon anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, debating on trying to fuck with him and push the heater off. But before he could even do anything, you came home and the landlord dusted off his hands and closed the door to the heater.
You were so happy that it was finished, thanking the landlord profusely for getting you a new one and installing it. While it was gonna take a bit off of your deposit, and you were internally cringing at that, you knew it was a well needed thing to be done. Soon as he left, you turned on the heat, as it was a cool November day and your professor didn’t bother turning on the heat in her class at all. With the heat on, you grabbed some blankets and snuggled up to watch Netflix the rest of the day, not bothering to work on your essay that was due in a few days.
As the day slowly came to a close, you realized you were getting a small headache. You didn’t really think much of it, just popped an aleve and drank some water. Usual things that helped cure your headaches, but it didn’t seem to let up. You glanced at the time, it was about 7:30. “Might as well hit the hay early.” You yawned, stretching out and made your way to your room. You did stumble around a bit, damn did you not notice how tired you were? Not bothering to change out of your day clothes, you just crawled right into bed and fell asleep.
“Not good, this is very not good.” Namjoon was rightfully freaking out. The heater was not properly installed at all and as he couldn’t breathe, he knew that whatever was happening to you was not good. He scoured all over the house, looking for some sort of alarm he could set off, wake you up, get you out of the house. As it turns out, the fire alarm was busted. The landlord was too cheap to fix it and not bother telling you. He constantly went back and forth checking on your to make sure your chest was still rising and falling as he frantically tried to do anything to wake you up.
Nothing worked though. He hadn’t felt this frustrated since he first died and everyone was walking through him. He wanted to scream, but nothing worked. He couldn’t do much but watch you. Wait for you to wake up and realize something was wrong. Wait for you to die. Which ever happened first and he hoped it was the former. But no matter how much he hoped and prayed to whatever god there was out there, it was fruitless.
It was 1:36 am when you stopped breathing.
Namjoon lets out a choked out sob, he can’t believe it. He should’ve done something. He should’ve pushed the heater over while the landlord was still here. He should’ve done something to turn it off before you started suffering from the carbon monoxide that was pouring through your vents. He buried his head in his hands and he just cried. Cried for you, for your family. You had so much life ahead.
“Mmhmm, what’s going on?”
He stilled, he looked up and saw you on the floor, holding your head. He quickly glanced between you and your body and quickly jumped into action.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He got on his knees to help you to your feet, thankfully in your confusion you let him help you up and quickly escorted you away from your room. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react to the fact you had died, much less seeing your own dead body right in front of you. “Just follow me, you’re going to be okay.” He said as he brought you over to the couch and sat you down.
“Hmm, who are you? Where am I?” You were still very dazed, he wasn’t sure if that was just a side effect of the poisoning or just general confusion of death. Did different deaths affect ghosts differently? Or was it random to each person?
“My name is Namjoon, we’re in your house.” He answered as he knelt in front of you.
Your eyes slowly started focusing on him and when your vision cleared to see the stranger in your house, you rightfully screamed. “Who the fuck are you!? What are you doing in my house?!” You shouted scrambling to get away from him. “Get out before I call the police!!”
“Hey hey hey, wait!” He called out after you as you got to your feet and ran back to your room. “Don’t go in there! Wait! Y/N!”
Soon as you crossed the threshold of the room you screamed again. Because there you were, in bed. Not moving. Not breathing. You fell to your knees and screamed again; in horror, confusion, fear. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you just leaned into it, collapsing into the arms of a complete stranger.
Namjoon held you as you sobbed into him, fists tight around the shirt he died in. He tried his best to be a soothing presence for you, rubbing circles into your back and not letting you go until several hours had passed. A normal human being probably would’ve passed out from exhaustion by now, but you weren’t human anymore. You were a ghost.
By the time you had stopped crying the sun was starting to rise, you let Namjoon help you to your feet and back to the living room. You both sat down on the couch in silence, besides a couple of sniffles from you.
“Are. . are you the Grim Reaper?” You asked, your voice groggy from crying.
“Hm? Oh no, I uh, I’m a ghost. Like you actually.” He replied with a nervous chuckle. “I died here.”
“I figured,” you wiped your nose on the back of your hand. “Landlord said someone died back in ’94, I just thought it was some. . .some old guy. Old age. Didn’t think he’d be-you’d be close to my age.”
“How old are you?” He asked, trying to make light conversation and distract you.
“Uh, I turned 21 last month.” You gave him a tight smile. Then the two of you fell into silence.
“I’m 23, by the way.” God, it’s been so long since he’s had an actual conversation with someone that he completely forgot how to talk to people.
“But wouldn’t you be-”
“Nah I don’t really count the years afterward much. I don’t age and can’t leave the house, what’s the point in counting the years.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“Can’t leave? What do you mean?” You looked at him, confused.
“Uh. . . you saw Beetlejuice right?” You nodded. “Kinda like that? Only instead of being teleported to some other sand dimension, you just get. . .blocked.”
“I guess there’s also no ‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased’ either.” You let out a soft chuckle.
“Yeah, that would’ve been very helpful.” He gave you a small, dimpled smile. Then the silence fell over you again, the only noise was the shudder of the heater as it shut off, then there was complete silence.
“How long?” You keep your gaze focused on your lap, pulling on your fingers.
“Hmm?”
“How long. . .are we going to be here?” Your body was still in the other room, how long until someone notices you were missing school? How long would it take your brother to know that you weren’t contacting him? You could go days without talking with him. . .
“Here? I don’t know. . . as for someone to notice. . .that all depends on the people around you. I died when there was just a frat party, so it was noticed immediately. . .”
You furrowed your brows at that, it sounded familiar. . .why did that sound familiar? You knew for a fact you didn’t research the one death in this house, but at the same time you feel like you’ve been told a story like that before. . .
It was Jungkook who found you a day and a half later.
“Y/N? Hello?” He was banging on the door, looking in between the windows. Namjoon held you close as you started to cry, you didn’t want Jungkook to see this. He shouldn’t have to see this. He must’ve found the hide-a-key because moments later he was in, you clung tighter onto Namjoon as your best friend of 10 years looked past you.
“Y/N?” He called out as he walked in, you turned your head into Namjoon’s chest as your friend made his way towards your room. You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard him talk. “Hey you okay? Haven’t seen you at school. . . Y/N? Y/N? Hey wake up-” He must’ve realized because next thing you know he’s running out of the house, right through you and Namjoon, he stumbles outside and onto the small patch of grass that is your lawn.
You pull yourself away from Namjoon’s grip, throwing yourself to the open door where you see Jungkook throwing up whatever's in his stomach and crying. You wanted to burst out of the house and just hold him, tell him you were okay, tell him you loved him one last time. But you couldn’t, all you could do was stand there and watch as he pulled out his phone and dialed the emergency number.
Soon enough there was a fire track, an ambulance, and several police cars lining the street. Namjoon tried to pull you away so you didn’t have to see what was going on, but you refused. You needed to see, you had to know what was going on. What was going to happen. BUt all those thoughts were thrown out the door when you saw your brother frantically pull up and run towards the house, pushing past officers trying to keep him away from the scene.
“Y/N?!” he screamed as the officers continued to hold him back. “Where’s my sister!? Is she okay?! Y/N!!”
“Yoongi! Yoongi I’m right here!” You screamed, banging against the force that confined you to the townhouse. Not caring if first responders walked right through you, you didn’t care. You just wanted your brother.
“Yoongi,” You saw Jungkook walk over to him, tears still falling from his face. You watched as the realization fell on his face. You were gone.
“No. No no no no no NO!” He clawed hysterically at the officers, begging and screaming at them to let him go. They only did as he fell to his knees, Jungkook right next to him and pulled him in close. Both of them crying their hearts out for you as people watched from beyond the police tape.
With the way your heater was improperly placed, it was an easy open and shut case. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Manslaughter. Your landlord was arrested and charged, plead guilty. He’ll get 3 years in prison. But that does little to resolve you or your family's grief.
It takes a while before your family has access to your house again, all the carbon monoxide cleared out from the space. The new landlady gives Yoongi a month to clear out your stuff. You watch there as your mom, dad, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung all stop by and help try and organize boxes. No tears are spared through the entire time, from them and your family.
Namjoon feels a bit awkward, staying off in the corner as you sit next to your mom as she folds all your clothes and puts them into boxes. He listens to your family as they tell stories about you, reminiscing on memories. He keeps a close eye on your though, despite him dying before, he never saw his family mourn. He’s unsure how you might deal with seeing them cry and divide up your stuff.
You only start to lose it when Yoongi finds the pink stuffed elephant he’d given you many years ago, hiding away amongst your pillows. When he pulls out the stuffed animal that was hidden away, you watched as he ran his thumb over the furry creature. He brought it close to his chest and let out a choked out sob. Unsure how much more you were able to take, you let out a scream.
Namjoon quickly ran over to the bedroom where you were on the floor, screaming and crying as Yoongi stood there crying, completely unaware of what was going on before him. “Hey hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He tried to calm you, but you weren’t having it.
“No! It’s not okay, Namjoon! I’m dead! Maybe you’d have time to accept things the way they were but I can’t!” You shouted, pushing him away from you. You let out another twisted scream that turned into a sob, shaking Namjoon to his very core. The amount of power and energy you put into that wail shook the bookcase behind you, a few of the books falling from their shelves. The man just sat there across from you as you curled into a ball and just cried, and cried, and cried. Not sure what else to say. What do you say to a girl who was wrongfully killed in her sleep? There’s nothing.
So caught up in your emotions and trying to keep you calm, neither of you see Yoongi notice stare at the bookcase and the fallen books.
The next few times your family and friends come to pack things up, Namjoon stays with you in the closet. Saying something about giving them space and you need space as well. At first you protest against it, not wanting to be confined to an even smaller space. But after watching your father tear up as he packed away your photos, you agreed. You couldn’t take much longer.
Several days had passed and all that was left in your townhouse was just the furniture. Your parents and brother arguing over who could keep what. There’s still a few boxes of your things scattered around the house, you wish you could steal a book or something to keep yourself occupied at least but you’d know they’d notice and find it right away.
Lightning cracks against the sky as rain pours down. To pass the time, Namjoon was telling you stories about the other tenants that had lived here; the frat boys, the families, the stoners, etc. You were in the middle of telling him a story about how you and Jungkook met Taehyung, how he at 17 years old stuck a bug up his nose on a dare when the front door slammed open. Lightning flashed behind the figure, giving you a quick outline of your brother with a bottle in his hand.
“Oh on, no no no.” You stood up to walk over to Yoongi but he just walked right through you. Soaked from the rain, he probably didn’t even feel the cold spot that was you.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked as your brother dropped his bag on the floor, taking another swig of the whiskey in his hand.
“Yoongi, he-he doesn’t like drinking. . .he only does when. . .” Your voice trailed off. Hurt is evident in your eyes as he places the alcohol on the ground and shuffles around in his backpack. Pulling out a black box and frantically tore it open, pulling out a small speaker and wires.
“Come on, turn on you. . stupid fuckin’ thing.” He slurred as he pushed several buttons on the speaker until it blarred to life, a loud buzzing noise filling the living room. “Y/N? Are you there?”
Your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of your head. Never in your life did you think your brother would go to such lengths as to buy a spirit box?! You looked to Namjoon, unsure of what to do. He’s told you a couple times people figured out the place was haunted and they’d try to communicate with him, but this was different. He was looking for you. He only gestured for you to speak.
“Yoongi?” Soon as the words left your mouth, a robotic voice left the speakers and you swear he jumped ten feet in the air.
“Is-is it really you?” He clung to the speaker, bringing it closer to his face.
“It’s me,” you said. “I’m here.” The robotic voice followed after your’s. Yoongi let out a small cry, relieved you were here. You tried to say more but all that came out was garbled and mixed up. “Namjoon! What do I do?!”
“Calm down, small phrases.” Namjoon said, the spirit box picked up on his voice, repeating him as well.
“Y/N, are we alone?” Your brother stilled, looking around the room.
“No, someone else.” You said, sticking to the advice of small words and phrases.
“Who?”
“Namjoon, friend.” The man introduced himself. “Died here too.”
“This is. . .this is great? I think? Y/N, I- I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” His eyes welded up with tears as he spoke.
“It’s. . okay.” You slowly made your way over to your brother, you placed your hand right over his cheek. “I love you.”
You weren’t sure if he felt your presence or not but needless to say he shut off the machine and burst into tears, you cried as he cried. He sat down on the couch, taking a few more swigs of his bottle of whiskey. His cries eventually evolved into snores as he passed out. You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on you as you attempted to brush the hair from his eyes.
“I’m glad he didn’t do anything too stupid,” you sighed as you stood. “Or dangerous.”
“I’m sorry this happened, Y/N.” Namjoon said, as you made your way back over to him. Both of you just stand there, staring at your sleeping brother.
“Not your fault,” you responded. “Just, god, I hope someone takes care of him. . .”
“You have a very loving and caring family, Y/N. He’ll be okay,” he wrapped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you into him. As time passed, you’ve gotten somewhat closer. You can’t help but be friendly with him as he’s the only other person you have, being stuck in a 2 bedroom, 1 and a half bath townhouse for the rest of eternity.
When Yoongi woke up the next morning he was grumpy, per usual of him drinking. He didn’t touch the spirit box though. Didn’t even look at it. He just shoved it in his backpack and left, leaving the whiskey behind. You’re glad he left it behind, but at the same time neither of you don’t know what to do with it.
Namjoon tried to teach you to harness some of your energy to move stuff, him having several years under his belt. He’s able to move things around with little to no struggle, seeing how he was able to move your stuff around before. You however, struggle to move it even a centimeter. But he tells you not to worry, saying it did take him several years to master.
About a week after your brother came by there’s a small crowd of people outside the door. Before you can even warn Namjoon, the door opens up and reveals him, Jungkook, Taehyung, a short blond man you don’t recognize, and-
“Seokin?!” Namjoon almost instantaneously recognized his brother, only he looked. . .older.
“You know him?” You almost had eyes as wide as he does, staring at him as he moves with the group of people into the kitchen.
“Yeah, he’s-he’s my brother.” He feels tears start to well up, stinging as he blinks them back.
“Your. . that would make you-”
“Taehyung, what am I doing here? You haven’t told me anything.” The eldest man complained as he settled into a chair.
“Dad, I told you just. . .just listen. Please.” Your blue haired friend sighed, giving his dad’s hand a quick squeeze.
You can only stare at Namjoon who in turn only stares at Taehyung and his father. That’s why his story sounded familiar. You vaguely remember hearing your friend’s dad say something about having a brother that died young. An accident. At a house. Your house.
The group of people settled around the table, only one left standing was the blond stranger who kept his eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. His face was scrunched up every so slightly, like he was feeling for something.
“Oh no,” Namjoon groaned. “They brought a psychic.”
“I feel. . .” He started.
“Watch he’s going to say vengeful or something like that,” your ghostly friend crossed his arms with a huff.
“Oh I feel a lot of different things,” he giggled as he opened his eyes, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Mainly confusion but. . .there’s some relief and happiness mainly surrounding you sir.” The psychic pointed to Seokjin, who looked even more confused.
“Are they here?” Yoongi asked him as he settled down in his seat.
“Yes, your sister and your brother are in the room.” he said with a smile.
“I’m sorry, what?” Seokjin raised a brow in disbelief. “No, Taehyung. I’m not going to deal with some phony who is going to just make shit up about my brother” He started to get up from his seat.
“Dad, wait!” Taehyung called after him.
“Pink! He likes the color pink!”
“Does the color pink mean anything to you?” The psychic said, stilling Seokjin.
“Pink was his favorite color, but to anyone who asked him what his favorite color was it was orange.” Namjoon just spouted off the fact about his brother. The psychic didn’t repeat the statement verbatim, but got the point across nonetheless.
“Mr. Kim, please just listen to what Jimin has to say. True me.” Your brother pleaded with him. Seokjin walked back to the table and took his seat once again. You could see his eyes were watering, like his brother he was blinking back tears.
“Continue.” He gave a small nod to the blond man, now known as Jimin, who smiled back in return.
“Now, we’re here to talk to Y/N and Namjoon, correct. That’s their names.” The table all nodded in response. “Okay, they’re here. They’re a bit confused so I’ll repeat my briefing. Hello, my name is Park Jimin. I’m a psychic medium. I can’t exactly see or hear you, but I can feel your energy and emotions. So please be gentle.” He gave a small laugh as he settled himself in your kitchen chair and closed his eyes. “Your family has questions, I’m here to help translate your answers for you. Family, if you please.”
“If Y/N is really here. . . what’s something only she and I would know?” Jungkook said, you had a feeling he was suspicious of this as well, just more quiet about it, possibly not wanting to insult Yoongi or Jimin.
You felt your cheeks burn as a memory popped in your head, immediately knowing exactly what proof he needed. “He uh, stole my first kiss when I was 13 underneath the monkey bars.” You let out a small chuckle at the memory.
Almost instantaneously, Jimin burst out in a giggle. “Oh my gosh, I’m getting monkey bars?” He kept his eyes closed as he brought his hands to his cheeks. You were keeping your eyes focused on the psychic, but out of the corner of your eyes you saw Jungkook stiffen. “Oh my face is red. You stole her first kiss.” He opened his eyes, a huge smile on his face.
“I’m sorry what?” Yoongi immediately turned to the younger boy, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Shush, it’s her.” He dismissed your brother as he leaned forward on the table, soaking in every word that Jimin said.
“Dad, do you want to say something?” Taehyung looked to his father who kept his arms crossed and his face stern. Glancing between him and Namjoon as he stood right next to him, you finally were able to see somewhat of a resemblance between them. The same messy dark hair, same stern eyebrows, you could only imagine what Mr. Kim looked like when he was Namjoon’s age.
“. . . Who was it. . .” His voice cracked as he spoke.
Namjoon paused, he hadn’t thought of the stranger in many years. . .did they never find him? All he recalls of him was a heart shaped smile and brown hair. He can’t recall much else about him, looking very much normal. Like the rest of the party.
“Hmm,” He watched as Jimin’s face scrunched up a bit. “He doesn’t know, all he remembers is the smile and his hair color.” He brought his hand to his mouth, gesturing to it. “It was a very specific shape too, I see it in my mind perfectly. I wanna say. . . heart shaped?”
Soon as the words left his mouth, Seokjin broke out into a sob. Namjoon watched as his son, his nephew, rumbed comforting circles on his back.
“Hoseok, fucking Jung Hoseok.” He choked out, hiding his face from the rest of the table.
Namjoon reached out to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. Trying to let him know that it’s okay, he’s not mad. It’s okay.
“Seokjin,” Jimin started. “Your brother doesn’t harbor any ill will towards him. He forgave him a long time ago.” He finished with a smile.
“But it’s my fault he’s dead.” He managed to get out. “I brought him to the party, I gave him alcohol. I was the one complaining to Hoseok about him needing to chill out. I caused my brother’s death!”
Namjoon froze at this information. He looked to you, who seemed equally stunned. The whole table seemed to be stunned into silence.
“I thought it was him for a while, but no one saw him give Namjoon the drugs. I had no evidence. Hoseok’s dad was chief of police so even if I did it would’ve been swept under the rug.” Seokjin finished as he wiped his tears away. The entire table stayed quiet, waiting.
Namjoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, despite the action doing nothing, it calmed him down. “It’s alright, Jinnie. I forgive you.” He focused all his energy onto his hand that was placed on his brother’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You need to forgive yourself.” He must’ve felt it because he started staring at his shoulder.
“He forgives you, Mr. Kim.” Jimin repeated softly. “But he thinks you need to forgive yourself. You can’t change the past. He learned that a long time ago. It’s time to let go.”
Eyes not leaving his shoulder, he nodded. “Okay. Okay Joonie.” He let out in a soft voice.
Jimin conducts the meeting for a little while longer, your respective families letting you know that you are always in their thoughts and how much they love you. You and Namjoon stayed near each other the whole time, giving each other the support you needed as you all reminisced on memories.
As the meeting started to come to a close, the blond psychic said something. “Now, this is not usually conventional for me but I feel like it’s necessary.”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, looking at the man with concern.
“Both Namjoon and Y/N need to move on. It’s clear to me they have no unfinished business, so the reason they’re still here isn’t that.” He explained. “Sometimes when people die young they just get stuck behind, it’s not common but it happens.”
“So this will be our last goodbye?” Jungkook’s big doe eyes started to well with tears again.
“Yes, it will be.” He nodded. “Please say your final words.”
“Y/N,” Yoongi started, you watched as your brother’s lip trembled, trying to find the right words to say to you. “There’s so much I want to say but I can’t get it out. . I-I love you. You’ll always be my baby sister.”
Next up was Jungkook, who was keeping his eyes squeezed shut. “I wish. . .I wish I could’ve done more for you. I miss you and- and I’ll never forget you.”
“Namjoonie. . .” Seokjin began. “It seems like I just got you back and now I’m losing you again.” He let out a weak laugh. “I love you. You’re always in my thoughts.”
Finally was Taehyung, who just sat there with his lips pursed in thought. “Uncle Namjoon. . . I’m glad I at least got to meet you. . .kinda.” He smiled lightly. “Thank you for being there for Y/N. Please watch over her, she’s kind of a mess sometimes.” He laughed, causing the table to erupt in chuckles.
“Hey, I’m not that much of a mess!” You countered.
“Yes, you are.” Namjoon asserted as Taehyung finished his thought.
“Y/N, I’m. . . I’m gonna miss you. I’ll always be your bug.” He concluded. The table turned their attention back towards Jimin, who was wiping away tears.
“They’re not saying anything but it’s clear that they love you,” he said with a smile as he dabbed his under eyes with a handkerchief. “Now, Namjoon and Y/N. Please stand behind me and put your hands on my shoulders.” You followed his instructions, placing your hands on his shoulders, causing him to shiver. “Ooh cold. Now, join hands everyone.” He held out his hands for Yoongi and Taehyung to take. They did and the rest followed suit.
They all sat there in silence, eyes closed. You and Namjoon looked to each other, neither of you knew what was going to happen next. He’s tried for years to move on physically saying he’s moving on or had no more unfinished business, meditating. Nothing worked. Maybe he was stuck and needed a real and proper psychic’s help?
Suddenly warmth covered you and Namjoon. It’s been years since he’d felt warmth like this. He let out a sigh as the feeling enveloped him. He looked over to you and you had a relaxed smile on your face, content with everything. The sadness he was so used to seeing on your face was now replaced with a look of peace. If he was to look in the mirror, he was sure he’d look the same.
There was no light that neither of you could recall going into. You both just watched your world melt away into the next.
#btsghostiebingo#btsghostie#thehouseofbangtan#thetruthretold#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x reader#bts x reader#namjoon fanfiction#bts fanfiction#kim namjoon angst#namjoon angst#rm x reader#bts angst#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook
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A Return From Dark Waters, Part II
Continued from Part I, found here!
(Written by myself & @iris-ymir)
Iris listened to Evangeline’s story. On some level, she felt the woman’s pain, when the other was talking about her nightmares. Iris had her own. Always the same... being strapped onto a hospital bed, while slowly losing herself. But she was not dead after all? This simple sentence gave her hope she did not know she had. She would still have time to fix a couple of things. The greatest mistake she ever made... but one could not start with such a leap. Every journey started with a small step. And for Iris? That small step would be Evangeline. What the two had in the past was gone with the wind... but it was never meant to be, anyways. With Eva’s arms wrapped tightly around her body.. a little bit too tight, Iris wanted to back away. Yet she did not. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the urge to leap away on tight reins. Breaking the embrace now would shatter Evangeline like a crystal vase, dropped off the table and onto the hard, cold marble flooring. So Iris endured the tight embrace, even though it took all of her self control, her body tense against Eva’s form. “So... Irene, huh?” Irene... Another self? Like the shrimp? If this was not a bad enough joke on its own.. now possibly having two of these leeches in her head... but this one actually using the name of her lousy mother? That...that was a joke so bad it kind of ended up being good in a twisted sort of way. Iris broke the embrace carefully, without making any overt movements. She moved like Evangeline was a startled kitten she was trying to calm down.
The pale viera pushed the plug into the hole in the bottom of the pool, and walked up to the shower stand, turning it on. As the warm, clean water started to fill the pool slowly, Iris made her way back to the miserable kitten that was Evangeline, and took a seat next to her, leaning back against the railing with a sigh.
“Irene was mi mom. A heckin’ terrible mother at dat...she died in Limsa Lominsa a good fifteen summers back. Found ‘er from da sea... raped and murdered.. Fockin’ unsuspectin’ fool... Burned ‘er corpse miself. Tha wind from da sea scattered 'er damn ashes by tha mornin’ light...” Without looking at Evangeline, Iris reached her arm over the railing, picking up a bath bomb, and flipping it into a slowly filling pool. The scent of hibiscus and steam soon filled the air.
“Ya dun sound too damn okai wid ‘er bein’ gone though. I would fockin’ lie, if I said dis wont disturb tha livin’ shite outta mi... This whole frickin’ scene.“
Evangeline could tell Iris didn’t want this. That she was uncomfortable with this. And yet...she stayed. She didn’t jump away, break the embrace...she didn’t run. Eva felt the thinner woman’s muscles tense against her, entirely unable to relax. Evangeline was about to let her go when Iris slowly and carefully extricated herself from Eva’s muscular arms. She turned on the shower again, plugging the bath, and began to fill it back up with warm water.
She’s trying. She’s really trying.
Eva thought, surprise tickling at the hollow feeling in her chest. Iris...this was unlike her. The voice was the same, though. Her eyes...undoubtedly...were the same. This was Iris...or at least, the Iris that Evangeline had known. Perhaps Silke had gotten through to her after all. Eva tried to harden her heart to the fact that Silke and Iris...that the two of them would inevitably end up together. If Iris could change...be more kind...like she was doing here...Silke would be with her. Evangeline’s breaths deepened as she tried to calm herself. Feeling the warm water tickle at her toes helped. Something to focus on other than her feelings.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother...regardless of her quality it’s not something you should’ve had to experience. The more I hear about gods-damned Limsa Lominsa the more I want to march on it with a battalion of soldiers and wipe the blasted place off the map.” She intoned, probably sounding a bit harsher than she had meant.
”Ya dun sound too damn okai wid ‘er bein’ gone though.”
Iris was right...it wasn’t hard to read Eva given her tear-streaked face. She was trying to suppress the sobs, but couldn’t seem to find a way to.
“Y-you’re right...it’s...it’s a-awfully disturbing...and I’m s-sorry...but I do m-miss her...I don’t k-know if she was your mo-mother...though. I….I….I know...it’s not f-fair to you...to want her b-back...but she was m-my friend��” Evangeline heard a sharp intake of breath, seemingly from far off in the distance, and realized that she had done it. Probably preparing herself to burst into tears again. Because that’s what today needed. More tears. She didn’t know why she was telling Iris all of this...might be that she had been trying to help...as much as she could. But Eva had held this all inside of her for too long to contain it anymore.
“Sh-she was my...f-friend...and I d-don’t have any other f-friends...a-and I don’t know how...b-but she took the nightmares away...I di-didn’t dream them...for three wonderful nights...and I’m scared...to sleep again...b-because I know they’ll be b-back…” She covered her face with her hands, feeling the water rise around her feet. She closed her eyes and tried to contain herself, but it was the scent of hibiscus that cut the last string on that violin. She curled into herself further, tighter, her arms wrapped around her knees, and she buried her face in her thighs. She shuddered, wracked with sobs. She figured Iris would probably leave soon. Most everyone usually did. Evangeline was too broken...too hurt. Too much of a mess. Too much of a burden. Now that Iris was back...she probably had things she wanted to do. A life she wanted to live.
And now that the deal was most definitely off...Iris had nothing left to gain from Evangeline’s presence. Eva waited for the sound of retreating footsteps. Expectantly. And as she did, she felt herself whisper something. Under her breath...more to herself than anything else. She hoped Iris would hear it. And she didn’t want Iris to hear it.
“I d-don’t...want t-to be...alone…again..”
As Evangeline broke into tears again, Iris stood up, taking an empty bucket and a luffa that were resting on the edge of the pool, and walked to the shower stand, filling the bucket up. In a way, Iris saw herself in the crying woman... She had felt the same after she got left alone in Limsa Lominsa. She despised her mother, but still, the lonely, sleepless nights on the streets had been horrifying. Iris had not cried a single tear for her mother back then, but she had cried for the feeling of loneliness. Just as Evangeline did now. And the root of the sorrow? Irene. Iris’ mother... Evangeline’s.. friend? The thought was disturbing, and Iris did not want to think about it. It couldn’t be. Irene Ymir was long gone. This... this had to be someone wearing the mask. An echo of a person once lived. Deep down, Iris wished the name was just a coincidence. A simple name her subconscious had picked up from somewhere. Yes. That had to be the case. Irene was dead. As the pool filled up, Iris closed the shower, picked up the bucket and made her way into the spot next to Evangeline. She reached out for a beautiful, purple bottle of soap, and poured some of it into the bucket, stirring it with the luffa. “...Fockin’ ‘ell, Evangelin’...”, she sighed out the words, while dipping the luffa onto the bucket, and proceed to wash Eva’s back and shoulders, now that the woman was curled up into herself. “...Stop yer heckin’ bawling, okai? Who tha devil said yer alone? Im ‘ere... Ya like it or not. And for yer... Irene? If whut yer sayin’ is true... If she truly is like tha shrimp, she’ll heckin pop out sooner or later. But until dat ‘appens, yer stuck wid mi!”, suddenly Iris bursted into an almost inaudible giggle.
“Shiteberries, Im heckin’ back Ya’ll!! Dey could not keep mi! No... Dey could not keep Iris... Ya ‘ear ye motherfockers?! Tha cat’s on da table, and dere’s nothin’ ya can do about it!”, she looked up to the corner of a ceiling, with a wide grin on her messy, black lips. With her bad teeth, the look resembled something from a horror story. Iris returned back to her work, now scrubbing the soot off of Evangeline’s arms and chest, as much as she could with the woman still curled up like a caterpillar.
“...Waaait, wait... Ya slept together? Dont tell mi ya focked wid this Irene... Because dat.. Dat would be waay too weird. For a sleepin’ though... I guess ya can sleep in mi room... I ‘ave quite a wide bed. Soo, as long as ye stay on yer heckin’ side... yer free to join mi. I can't take awai yer frickin’ nightmares, but guess I can be dere if ya ‘appen to wake up for dem. ‘Aight?” Not only that, but Iris felt like she also needed someone to sleep with her. During her time floating in the sea of deep emptiness, she had from time to time had visions... like fragments of dreams, breaking through the black veil... yet always the image had shattered in front of her eyes, like a twisted mirror, sending her back into the black.
This felt different. When she had embraced Eva just a moment ago, the woman had felt real.. alive. But still, somewhere deep inside, Iris was afraid of sleeping. What if this was yet another trick? What if she woke up only to find herself floating.. drowning once again?
“...Now I need ya to... never goin’ ba-ack... lean back a bit, so I can wash tha rest of ye... Yer not gonna crawl yer fockin’ cadaver into mi bed like dat, sister... Ohh no... Not gonna ‘appen!”, pale viera dipped the luffa into the soap water again, while intently staring at her hand and fingers. She blinked couple of times... it was a peculiar, slow blink, her left eye barely closing at all, and the eyelid moving on a small delay compared to the right. “Now... Feel mi... tell mi about dis frickin’ Irene of yers... I need to be sure o’ sumthin’...”
“W-wait...you’re staying? R-really?” Evangeline lifted her head to try to look at Iris, who was now behind Eva, scrubbing at her back and shoulders. Eva couldn’t believe it. She had been sure...absolutely sure...that Iris would have flown the coop, as it were. But maybe...something really had changed in Iris. She assumed she flushed at the mention of her sleeping with Irene...but couldn’t feel it the same way she usually could.
“We...slept in the same bed. No sex...no need to worry about that particular situation. She was just...comforting. That’s all.”
I guess ya can sleep in mi room…
Evangeline blinked, looking into Iris’ eyes. Was she...sincere? She looked it. If she was...this was the kindest thing Iris had ever even thought of doing for her. Maybe...maybe it was possible. Maybe they could be friends, after all. Maybe Iris, under all of her deception...her difficulties...was a good person. She shook her head in an attempt to free her face of the incredulous look it must be wearing.
Evangeline slowly started to unfurl herself, spreading out at first, and then collapsing back into the water with a splash as Iris moved away from Eva’s back. She lay on her back, half-floating in the still-rising water, and stared at the ceiling. She felt the tension finally start to leach out of her. The grime and dirt floated away from her, one with the ripples in the water that exuded from Eva as she moved slowly in the calm surface of the bath.
“I...would love...to sleep in your room. Th...thank you. That’s really nice of you.” Eva could feel herself calming down, her desperate fear fading for now.
“As for Irene...she was a spellcaster...made little dancing lights. Even healed the burn on your arm, from that boiling water. She said she grew up in Gridania...and didn’t seem acquainted with much in the way of etiquette. She ate with her hands, and didn’t seem to understand talking with people very well. She was sweet, though...kind and caring. She tried to make people feel better. I don’t think Lord Blacksoul particularly appreciated it...but I think he has cornered the market on being the grumpiest old man I’ve ever met. She was always talking about how this house has such dark memories...and she would talk to the paintings. Ask them questions about the house’s past. But the strangest thing about her...was her eyes. They seemed dead...soulless. Which was such a difference from how she acted. Her eyes were how I could tell it wasn’t you in there...almost immediately.” Evangeline sniffled, but she was fairly certain the tears were over for the night. She didn’t think she had any left in her. She finally relaxed fully, and let Iris wash her, enjoying the feeling quietly.
“We-I was going to grab some food from the kitchen...after the bath. Would you like to join me? I think there’s some leftover pie still...that should help with the taste in your mouth.”
“Well, where tha heck I would go? I kinda live ‘ere, ‘aight? ...Okai, cloose yer eyes... I'm gonna get dat face o’ yers... Fockin’ ‘ell, where ‘ave ya been? Did ya crawl through a frickin’ big Bertha or sumthin’..?”, Iris carefully wiped the soot off Evangeline’s face, using small, circlular motions. As she had got all the mess off, she threw the luffa back into the bucket, and sat down next to Evangeline.
“...Ya can do tha rest by yerself, Cinnabun, yer a big gal...” She was a spellcaster? This little fact had been bugging Iris from the moment Evangeline had mentioned it. How was that even possible? Iris never had any gift for magic. She had once seen a highlander woman lighting a cigarette with a flame cast on her fingertip, and had tried to copy the trick without any success at all. Magic had always been something so far out of her reach. Almost like her whole being was rejecting it. And now Evangeline was telling her this person using her body could cast magic? That was ridiculous... It was... unfair? Am affront, even! Eva had been wrong. The woman was a warrior. Maybe it had been some lousy trick that Eva saw as magic. Yes. That had to be the case. It was not any more magic than Iris was the Archbishop.
One thing was certain, though. This Irene was not the Irene Iris had known. Nor an echo of her. So it was just a coincidence...
“So... Blacksoul is still kickin’ and as grumpy an arse as ever...”, Iris cupped her palms, using them to drink some water, swished, and spat it back into the pool. “‘Ow ‘bout Gramps? For ‘ow long I ‘ave been gone aniway?” A lonely thought crossed her mind, cutting like a glowing hot knife. “...And... Silke? An archmage somewhere, married to sum good-for-nothin’ lad? Nice teeeny little tower and all dat shite?” Iris tried to laugh, but it got stuck somewhere on the way, breaking out as a frustrated sigh. She had no idea for how long she had been under. It had felt like a couple of summers, but it was hard to keep track of time in the pitch darkness... She thought she had also fallen asleep a couple of times, so it was impossible to tell. Evangeline looked quite the same. But being a viera, that meant nothing. “Pie though! Pie sounds frickin’ fantastic! ...And a cup o’ coffee.. and a heckin’ Coffin nail.. Dis head-ache is killin’ mi!“
Evangeline immersed her hair in the water, and rinsed her face, as well as the rest of her body. That...would probably do it. No more grime...finally. She drew her hair forth from the pool, a mass of dark red sloughing off water as it pulled away from the surface of the bath. She smiled slightly at the nickname Iris had given her so long ago. A part of her had missed it...that one, specifically. Something about it fit perfectly. Though she certainly wasn’t going to complain about the sweet nicknames Irene had been giving her. She hoped she would be able to hear those again, someday.
“I’ve been making something. I’m hoping that Lord Blacksoul will find it useful...a gate for the front walkway. It feels a bit absurd to me that there wasn’t one here before...it’s the most basic level of security. Closing the gate and locking it is the easiest way to prevent the vast majority of intruders from wandering onto the premises. It won’t stop everyone, but it’s a step in the right direction as far as basic safety is concerned.”
Eva seemed to have righted herself mood-wise. Best to distract herself in the interest of preventing any further breakdowns. Irene may be gone now...but hopefully she would return at some point. And for now...this was a new version of Iris that Eva was enjoying quite a bit. Something had certainly changed...Eva wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired while Iris was locked away in her mind, but maybe it, as well as Silke, had given Iris the push she needed.
“Arsene? He’s fine…” Evangeline trailed off as she saw Iris’ face drop, mentioning Silke. Assuming that Silke was...married off? How long did she think she’d been gone?
“Iris...you haven’t been gone nearly as long as you seem to think. It’s been about four days since you were...lost to us. A lot has transpired, sure...but it hasn’t been months. And no-one has gone and gotten married...nothing quite so ridiculous.” Evangeline grimaced slightly at the mention of Silke’s name. The woman had done no wrong, but Eva couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment bite at her. That little green jealousy monster whipped its tail at Eva’s insides...just once. Just enough for her to struggle. But she held it back and quickly corrected her expression.
“As for Silke...we will have to write her. Both she and Lord Blacksoul have departed from Ishgarde, for fairly different reasons. Silke’s studies called for her to take a semester abroad, and it seems Lord Blacksoul was wanting for some...front-line experience. I can’t understand it...but who am I to stand in the way of men and the stupid things they choose to do?” Evangeline sighed, and finished rinsing her body off. She stood up and moved to fetch herself a towel to dry herself with.
“I don’t know if you remember it, but we participated in a rather disastrous dinner party. Someone named Asagi...her daughter...and Silke were invited here. The entire night was a mess, and I’m honestly surprised neither Arsene nor Varg had a heart attack at some point during the party.” The towel she dried herself with was still a bit scandalous for her to be wrapped in, but at this point she was too tired to care. Eva wrapped another towel around her hair and ears.
“That was when I brought Irene to Silke...and Silke was able to pull you out for just a moment.” Evangeline tried desperately not to think about that night...the feelings she had struggled with...and the heartbreak she had to endure. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath and willing her hastily reassembled heart not to shatter again in the middle of the damned bathroom.
“She requested communication should your condition change. You can write her the letter tomorrow if you’d like...and I’ll see that it’s posted.” Evangeline offered Iris a towel.
“Let’s get that pie, shall we? And coffee…” She trailed off, wondering if she should mention the cigarettes. It would be healthier for Iris to go without them...and Eva rather disliked the smell regardless. After thinking for a second, she concluded that they weren’t nearly close enough, and handed off the towel, moving towards the door, and some food, at last.
As Eva mentioned Iris had only been away for some days, the pale viera could do nothing but stare at her companion, like one had just told her the sky is green and seas are made of rolanberry jelly.
“...Excuse me? Fockin’... f-four days? D-Dat can't be... It can't..” she shook her head in disbelief, while getting up from the bath, and reaching for a towel.
“...I... I was in dat frickin’ bottomless ocean for... at least..t-two summers... Dat d-doesn’t make any sense! ...Yer not fockin’ wid mi, Cinnabun, ‘aight?” Nothing made sense to Iris... This feeling was too much for her mind to process properly. How can one be gone for such a long time, while for others, it had been only days?
‘Am I heckin’ losin’ it..?’
She thought to herself, while wrapping the towel lazily around her hips. ‘Madness is not a state of mind...’, a voice in Iris’ head.. a foreign voice of a woman. It echoed from the back of her mind, where a creature was sitting like a canine. A mess of red hair fell in loose curls on her pale shoulders. She had pointy ears, and eyes like those of a corpse. Blood red tearlines ran down on her cheeks, and her black lips were curled up into a wide smile. The most conspicuous feature, though, was a thick, red, fox-like tail, coiling around her legs.
“Irene...”, the word escaped from Iris’ lips, after she had been staring into distance for a while.
‘...A mind of your mind... our fates entwined...’, answered the voice in a soft tone. Iris closed her eyes, tilting her head to side. The movement was twitching, resembling a person who’s having a dream. As she opened her eyes, they were, once again, the dead eyes of Irene. In the next blink though, she was gone, like a whisper in the wind.
“...Uhh.. So dat really ‘appened? Tha night when Silke was ‘ere..? I thought it was a heckin’ dream.. I’ll need to write sumthin’ for ‘er... Damn... Not a state of mind... Pie though... Just a whisper away... P-Pie sounds like a frickin’ splendid idea! And coffee... Fockin’ ‘ell Evangeline... Can ya please get mi a damn cig? Mi ‘ead is killin’ mi...” Holding her head, Iris trailed past Evangeline to the door, pushing it open into the dark hallway. Somewhere in the darkness she could feel the creature... For a moment, viera thought she saw a dancing orb of flame, lingering around the windows near the door, only to soon realize, it was just the glowing hint of the street lights on the walkway. She turned to Evangeline, standing with her on the doorway. “Yer fox is still ‘ere, by tha way...” Pale viera stepped into the hallway, as her eyes had started to adjust into the darkness. Why had no one lit the lanterns anyway? The place was like a grave.
“...Never goin’ back..”, she whispered to herself, while feeling her way with her fingertips. She could hear Evangeline’s steps right behind her.
Evangeline stopped dead in her tracks.
“Did you say two summers in a bottomless ocean? That’s...that’s so horrible.” Things were starting to piece themselves together now. Eva had been wondering how or why Iris had changed so much in just a few days...wondering what had happened to her. Wondering why she had seemed just a bit more unhinged than usual. Even through the haze of Eva’s despair, it was a bit obvious. If she had been trapped...imprisoned in her own thoughts for two summers...Evangeline could think of few things more mentally traumatising than that. Eva’s heart plummeted when she realized how awful she had been to Iris. Iris, who had been...drowning? At the bottom of an ocean...for years. And Evangeline had been concerned with her own stupid feelings. Her stupid dreams of a stupid relationship that wasn’t ever going to happen in the first place. Poor Iris...she needed some support right now. Evangeline hoped she could provide it. She moved closer to Iris, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, when she heard Iris speak.
Irene... Iris was looking through Evangeline, eyes vacant, directed at something that could have been behind the tall, muscular viera...or something that could be a thousand malms away. Eva was ashamed of it...but her heart leapt at the mention of Irene’s name. Eva kept her focus on Iris, though. The woman needed help from her...not another treatise on how she wanted to see Irene again. Before Eva could open her mouth to say something, Iris closed her eyes and spasmed, eliciting a jump from Eva. “Iris? Are you okay?”
She got closer to the waifish girl, eyes radiating concern as she tried to understand what was happening. Iris’ eyes snapped open, revealing Irene...just a hint of her. Irene’s eyes were truly unmistakable...although Evangeline thought she had imagined it for a moment, as the eyes flicked again. When she reopened them, they were back to Iris’ deep purple pools, filled still with life and fire that she continued to deny was present there. Evangeline shook her head, trying to clear her perspective. Taking another look over the pale woman, she nodded numbly at Iris, who had started talking about Silke again. What did this mean? Did she want Irene back so desperately that she was seeing things? Constructing that gate must have taken more out of her than she had thought...there was no way that Irene could be making herself known again. If she was even still there. Iris had hardly ever switched with the first ‘other’...what evidence did Eva have that it wouldn’t be the same with Irene? She was being too hopeful.
Iris wandered past Eva, who let her hand fall away without any resistance. The spindly figure was holding her head...best to get her something to eat. Some actual water too, maybe. Perhaps she was dehydrated. She followed after, trying not to intrude too far into Iris’ space. She wasn’t sure if her presence was helping, or hurting. Best to be careful for now...she didn’t want to upset Iris if she could avoid it. Iris turned to her, throwing a few words over her shoulder as if they were the peel to a banana.
Yer fox is still ‘ere, by tha way…
Eva’s heart, which had just started to settle down, felt as if it were about to try and climb out of her chest and up her throat. This was confirmation. It was real. Irene was still there...and Eva had probably seen her eyes for just a moment too. A valve opened in her body somewhere and relief flooded throughout every inch of her. She could feel her body relaxing...as long as Irene would come back...for sure...Eva could wait. She would absolutely wait...and she would do her best for Iris, too. She hurried after the retreating figure, following her into the kitchen, and busied herself with starting the coffee brewing. Sweeping around the kitchen like a seasoned housewife, she fetched a plate, and smoothly slid a slice of pie onto it, filled a glass with water, and presented both to Iris, who Eva quickly noticed had taken a seat at the table, still rubbing her forehead.
“There...maybe this will help a bit. Oh!” Eva spun on her heel, almost floating to the silverware drawer, and wrapping her fingers around a clean fork, which she placed delicately next to the pie.
“The coffee should be ready soon...and…” Evangeline grimaced. She didn’t feel comfortable enabling it...but she didn’t want to cause any unnecessary friction with Iris.
“Where do you keep your cigarettes? I can fetch one for you…”
To be continued..
#ffxiv#evangeline cross#iris ymir#the coils of d'espair; irene#viera#rava viera#veena viera#drama#writing#rp#mateus rp#crystal rp#ffxiv rp#long post#i had a blast writing this#there are still going to be probably 2-3 more parts#and this isnt even the tip of the iceberg
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so i’d really like to finish my guardian takedown lore analysis, but honestly the game isn’t really fun to play at the moment anymore (even with the health debuffs they added) so I think im going to be taking a break for now because I’m just not having fun anymore.
this game has a lotta mechanical problems i think need to be addressed so im gonna summarize it as bullet points below. I’ll play the new dlc when it drops, but idk if i’ll be on more than that (grinding, end-game stuff) until they make some serious changes. I’ve been playing (near) daily since launch, followed the patch/hotfix notes every single week, and my patience has finally, FINALLY run dry, especially with that really disappointing Phase 1 Patch and then the hotfix this week not adding anything else. What is the balancing team doing??? 😩
tl;dr: FIX THE VAULT HUNTERS!!!!
anyway. That’s all I needed to get outta my system. I might log on to this blog every now and again to post some random shit that pops into my head (probably with regards to my AU), but I’m not going to be actively playing and posting for the time being. Goodbye (for now), and here’s hoping the new DLC is good!!
guardian takedown only problems:
there’s a lot of waiting around, and sometimes it’s not explicitly stated that you’re waiting for something, so you’ll be lost on what to do next (not sure if that’s a dialogue glitch or not)
the crystal charge insta-death is bull. just. what the hell. at least make it so you just have to start over. killing ur players for failing a “puzzle” that they then have to fight all the way back to is so infuriating.
dying because you fell off a platforming puzzle is also bull.
i remember playing the first DMC on my playstation in middle school and having a conniption over the part in the observatory(? it’s been a hot minute since I played DMC 1) with the disappearing/invisible platforms. I h a t e jumping puzzles. why are they in a section of the game where death is semi-permanent and a detriment to your teammates. i tried the takedown 2x with friends and both times one friend didn’t make the first big jump to the temple and had to wait for our inevitable deaths. that’s so unfair to them.
there’s absolutely no reason for a boss to have 12 fuckin immunity phases. 4 per health bar with 3 health bars? Who the fuck designed this? *pumps shotgun* i just wanna talk.
i appreciate a tasteful immunity phase every now and again (the ones in the Valkyrie fight are actually p reasonable), but christ. that is overkill. I don’t mind the main boss fight, since u can end those early through certain actions, but jesus. the mid-boss fight is annoying as hell. you spend more time running from the immunity phases and finding the damn boss than u do actually shooting it.
drop rates are crap, which I guess should be expected given what happened with the Maliwan Takedown and the handful of months it took for them to fix that, but also you think they’d have learned.
in the maliwan takedown there’s a sense of progression thru the facility after you kill each area’s batch of enemies, but in this one it’s... dampened by the crystal charging sequences. you kill all the enemies in an area, press a button, and now you have to kill 3x that number of enemies in the same area, expect you’re just standing there motionless. It’s not fun.
the crystal charging stuff is just not fun in general. standing in a square is not entertaining. it’s worse that it was clearly designed for 3+ players when a majority of people play/grind solo
i gotta admit the boss fights just aren’t as fun as the Maliwan Takedown fights overall. I felt like a real badass fighting Wotan for the first time, but the main boss for this Takedown is kind of a bitch. Wotan’s fight is chaos, there’s so much shit happening at once and you don’t really have time to process everything and I love it. This one is p meh...
This would be fine and I’d 100% not care that much if there weren’t all these OTHER problems
General Issues with the Game
There’s no endgame stuff to play outside of the takedowns.
I assume they’re working on the first raid given some stuff I found in the Guardian Takedown files, but I really wish they’d keep the seasonal events/areas. They give us the option to disable/enable them while they’re ‘active’, just give us the ability to do it whenever we want.
when i hop on i either run through Athenas (my favorite map), or farm a boss or two. I have all the loot i really need from the maliwan takedown/elsewhere, and the guardian takedown just... isn’t fun atm, so i have nothing to do.
I’ve reset my playthru multiple times to play the main story at m10, but u can only play it (and the dlc) so many times
Mayhem levels and modifiers are a hot m e s s
a majority of the modifiers just aren’t fun to play with
they incorporated like 2-3 fun modifiers (from the community), then added a bunch that straight-up aren’t. I’m fine with the game being more difficult, but at least give us modifiers that make it more entertaining to play at a higher level instead of more annoying. I like the ones that have trade-offs or add new ‘enemies’, but I hate the ones that just straight up reduce your damage output.
a majority of the weapons with the mayhem 10 anointment (scaling) do not work on mayhem 10 (we’ll go more in-depth with this later)
Player Characters (Vault Hunters!!!) are also a hot mess and a lot of problems plaguing them haven’t been fixed SINCE LAUNCH
theyre literally the basis of the game and its balance. why havent you guys fixed them yet. stop adding new content until they’re fixed. no new skill trees until the base 3 trees work ON EVERY CHARACTER.
seriously. Why is amara p much limited to using Phasegrasp. Why does Iron Bear not matter to Moze except to proc anointments. MAKE ALL ACTION SKILLS EQUAL AND HAVE HEFT.
i wrote an essay here about it bc i feel that strongly about this
SERIOUSLY FIXING UR VAULT HUNTERS WILL MAKE BALANCING SO MUCH EASIER PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU THEY ARE THE BASE OF UR BALANCING WOES
ZANE IS STILL UNUSABLE WITHOUT THE SEEIN’ DEAD CLASS MOD!!!!!!!!!!!
MOZE IS SCREWED BC HER DAMAGE IS TOO RELIANT ON ASE ANOINTMENTS!!
AMARA DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING MELEE BUILD AS THE ADVERTISED MELEE CHARACTER???
FL4K’S HEADCOUNT SKILL IS S T I L L BROKEN EVER SINCE THE RELEASE OF THE MALIWAN TAKEDOWN
ARE YOU GUYS LISTENING TO THE COMMUNITY *PLEASEEEEEEE*
BUFF AND FIX THE GODDAMN VAULT HUNTERS
Anointments were a mistake. Damage end-game is wayyyy too reliant on them
anoints should have a maximum of, like, a 20% damage bonus. the damage necessary to kill enemies *should be coming from the VHs themselves*. i don’t care if you have to revamp every single Vault Hunter’s skill trees and buff them all by 9000%. THEY DESERVE IT AT THIS POINT
at the moment in m10 there really isn’t much build diversity *even between Vault Hunters*. We’re all using the same 5 guns (OPQ System. Kaoson. idk. fuckin brainstormer? is that still a thing? jesus fuck) with the same 3 anointments (100% on ASE, cryo while SNTL, and 300% while 90%).
you want to diversify builds like you said during the gameplay reveal???? you want our choice in Vault Hunter to actually fuckin matter???? FIX THEM!!!! THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DEAL DAMAGE WITHOUT STUPID POWERFUL LEGENDARIES AND ANOINTMENTS!!!
Anoints also shouldn’t be common. At all. They should be, like, Pearl rarity. To let that happen, their damage needs to be tuned way the fuck down (again, 20ish % bonus MAX) and ALL ANOINTS NEED TO BE USEFUL IN SOME WAY
NOBODY IS GOING TO USE THE AIRBORNE OR SLIDING ANOINTMENTS JUST REMOVE THEM ALREADY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
obviously these changes can’t happen because they fucked up and buckled down with everything being anointed in m10, but still
imagine a world where the VHs actually did damage on their own without anointments and the damage buff from them was just an incentive to grind for the 100% perfect weapon and NOT A REQUIREMENT TO DEAL DAMAGE
>:(
A majority of gear is borderline worthless at M10
I’m fine with the difficulty of M10, i should let it be known. The enemy health isn’t really the problem IF ALL GUNS ACTED THE SAME AS THE OPQ SYSTEM
ffs.
you know, if you fixed ur vault hunters so they all did damage with just purple weapons (abt the same damage as legendaries w/o special effects) and removed the anointment requirement from late-game play, balancing your guns would be sooo much easier. you know. just saying.
right now only 10% (im being generous) of guns in the game are viable. 90% are worthless. We need AT LEAST 60-70% viable at M10. WHERE IS MY BUILD DIVERSITY. WHY ARE ALL LEGENDARIES NOW JUST “HEY THIS GUN IS STRONGER THAN THE LAST 4 WE RELEASED. HAVE FUN”
how to fix this problem? do as above: BUFF YOUR PLAYER CHARACTERS. MAKE ANOINTMENTS LESS STRONG.
then, at least the 10% already strong weapons would be stupid strong and OP as fuck, BUT AT LEAST WE COULD HAVE BUILD VARIETY!!! I don’t care if other people are dummy strong one-shotting everything in sight. I don’t! so long as they don’t play with me, I couldn’t care less!!! I want to be able to play with the unique, interesting legendaries. instead of the OPQ System. which, by the way, I dislike compared to the normal Q-System. let me use the frozen heart shield and the infiltrator mod. I don’t wanna be chained to the Seein’ Dead anymore :(
honestly at this point im starting to think removing slag was a mistake bc then at least we could use guns that aren’t solely damage-based guns. you know how fucked up you’ve got me that im thinking maybe slag wouldn’t be so bad this time around??? YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP B A D.
FIX THE GAME
IM TAKING A BREAK
MAYBE I’LL BE LESS UPSET WHEN I COME BACK FOR THE DLC BUT HOT. DIGGITY. SHIT.
#borderlands#bl3#whelp#i needed to get that out#still frustrated...#just... fix the game#please#its so disheartening to see this STILL going on#like i know bl2 had the same problems#with the balancing#remember when they nerfed zer0 and buffed salvador?#but like christ at least they were messing with the vault hunters#now they're trying to brush their problems under the rug and it's really sad to watch#you would think they'd have learned from bl2
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Okiedok here’s the delio. I have a list of all the blogs from the last six months who’s actively either responded to a meme i sent, responded to a message ive sent, replied to something regarding mally herself, has actually written with me, written a starter for me from my liking a starter call, has at least liked a starter i wrote for them to awknowedge it exists, all that jazz, i have a lot of open field so it’s not just a possible tumblr didnt let them no option anymore, because i send memes to everyone who posts them that i see. I reply to most peoples ooc posts. I like most starter calls I pass by. I try my darndest to actually interact bc i know how it feels to be ignored and its… i’ve been called one before so i’m using the word, thats fluffing cunty behavior, and honestly if you complain about not being interacted with but never even try when i try with you, ya being cunty, end of. I gotta list. That list only entails Mally because she’s who I care about the most. I’m probably gonna start instilling a new rule in all my blogs that if you ignore Mally and/or Darcy( @tasedandconfused ), since I would say they’re my two main blogs tho darcy gets ignored even more than mally does, probably bc i denied canon and left it entirely we know fandom hates that, if either of them is ignored then… Ya out of luck, I’m gonna unfollow you. I’m debating soft blocking everyone who ignored me on both of them but I don’t want to like be mean and deny the chance to eventually try again but at the same time i shouldnt feel bad for taking a stand and saying this is bullsheet, idk my anxiety says im awful for giving a fluff about myself but also i should give a fluff about myself probably, ive nearly died in the last three months, my brain almost exploded, i just had three root canals on one corner of my face, i have to potentially get surgery on my inner ear which i cant even afford, i dont got time to deal with only being used for like smut memes or like as a resource blog or utter bs like that, i dont got time for it. So new rules here. 1: If Mally or Darcy are not acknowledged, written with, responded to, viewed as more than just their fluffing bodies? ya dropped, im unfollowing, potentially soft blocking, which means blocking and unblocking for those not in the know, on all accounts I follow you on. Every single one. I know most of my muses are on sideblogs but despite not being able to send memes from sideblogs you can block people from sideblogs fun fact, i will do that if i have to. 2: I’m gonna be posting SCs, PCs, memes, etc. I like and respond to plotting calls, starter calls, i send memes, all of that. If I don’t get any response within.. I’m giving one week for people who don’t run on a queue and a month and a half to people on a queue based system, if i dont get anything within that time like at least an im being like ‘its posted’ or ‘its queued i wanted to let you know in case tumblrs a fluffbutt’ (i do this sometimes if i dont get even just a like on the starters i post so i at least know people saw it since i know tumblrs bs, i wait until the day they’re active to do so in case theyre busy yknow) basically i need acknowledgment at all. No you can’t claim this is abt follower count bc when you unfollow someone they inevitably unfollow you too, thats gonna drop my following, not as quickly as soft blocking would but i wanna be fair i guess, which leads to: 3: I’m basing this on your activity too, like if i like a think and you’re gone for a month after that its fine, im not gonna unfollow you unless you never come back or youre online and posting others just not mine because that tells me youre specifically ignoring me and im gonna drop you for that end of. I’m done with the bullsheet im done w the dillish behavior, i love friendship but if im giving and never receiving thats extremely one way and not gonna work. I check through my follow list weekly and i go back about five-10 pages on someones feed before i unfollow them to see their actual activity and see if theyre here or if its a q so. I’m thorough basically. 4: You dont have to be active with me on all your blogs, i mean i’d prefer it but thats hard as fluff so essentially if you have like five blogs and are just like trying w me on two or three thats fine. Ten blogs, four or five with at least a plot formed is cool. Multis just one muse is all I’d need. I’m not gonna unfollow the blogs youre not writing w me on if you at least write w me on some. Again, specifically Mally and/or Darcy. If you ignore both of them, we’re done. I havent been active on darcy because of being ignored and its a huge butt mess and im just tired i wanna use my babies, you don’t get to have my ‘better’ muses like i know a lot of ppl only follow me for my boys or my villains, you don’t get them if you ignore my baby. But, there is a limit there too. 5: If you never respond to a meme or thread even once with Mally or Darcy, or post a starter, i reply, its never replied to again after a month, I’m unfollowing and/or soft blocking for that too. Bc that means youre just raising my hopes to fluff with me or get someone else and honestly, youre even more cunty than than the people just flat out ignoring me if you do that. And this isnt a specific person, this is five of the people actually on my list. Yes, my list is also annotated with specifics again I was very thorough on this yesterday, I hyperfixated I’ll admit it, I’m in a fluffing depressionary bubble and being told to get over it because people want something they dont deserve to have to. I am a believer that people deserve good things but if youre purposefully being cunty… no you dont. 6: No I’m not releasing my list, maybe I will and I’ll omit the urls because I don’t want people being buttholes to each other too but otherwise, yall not seeing it im not giving a callout because… really thats just unnecessary here. I don’t think yall are toxic people or something i just think yall are unintentionally being cunty. And no I don’t mean everyone that follows me i mean the ppl that add up to what i’ve documented so far and fit the bill of butthat that i’ve shown, its behaviors yall gotta check before ya wreck. Yes there will be some people who have priority, everyone has those people, I write w kathryn on other platforms since she doesnt go on here as often but when Kathryn returns from war here (if she does cause she also agrees most ppl on this platform are cunty, i feel really bad saying that word so often but im gonna keep doing it i recently deleted an ask saying I was a huge cunt for not sending someone smut memes when I didn’t even follow them or know they existed so, again the travesty of this place is nutballers) same with owly, alex is here too, my most active partners are always going to be priority because theyre the ones who show the most interest and the most care. I understand that with others as well which is why I have the timeframe set up, because I want to be as open and shizz as possible while atill being firm i guess. I don’t want to have extreme double standards like its impossible for double standards not to exist at least a little bit but I want to avoid a golden chest full of them I guess. 7: I don’t have a seven rn, this was an even number and it bothered me. Seven is nust my warning that I’m bittery writing this on mobile so formatting is not real but i tried my dandest to make this look like something people might actually mind. I dont want to be butty, i dont want to be awful, i dont want to start drama or have drama but that shizz comes around anyways so i might as well make my space as okay for me as i can cause im supposed to avoid stress so my brain doesnt almost explode again, like again i almost fluffing died i dont need ppl fake being my friend or anything, i want stuff to be real and clear. I want to be happy to be on here again and have fun like i used to since my health is plummetting and I’m not allowed to go outside near plants by myself anymore because i welt up. I have plants outside my work place and im surrounded by chemicals all day long I’m welted from here to new york constantly and never comfortable in my own skin because of it and constantly see people online acting like these actual real problems are pretentious because ‘its an excuse’ when, im a fluffing sagittarius, do you know how much i want to magically be a millionaire so i can pay for friends and my own medical stuff and go on traveling and adventures, be outside probably not camping bc as a pagan i know thats a death sentence but like be outside, lay on grass, go back to swimming because i used to swim competitively and due to health reasons i can barely even go in a pool anymore because theres too much sunlight which, bit plot twist i know, im fluffing allergic to vitamin D and the rays of the sun, so go figure, attempts to be healthy kill me more, i also cant eat most plants and am constantly dying from just eating food, they dont know whats wrong with me. i cant fix it by going ve/gan for a month inf act i tried and it almost made my heart stop thanks society. These arent excuses these are the lives of disabled and diseased and to a lesser but still very real point, ethnic lives every fluffing day. This is real shit and its murder and online and gaming? It may be all I have soon since I can’t just go out and make new friends cause, again, I’d fluffing die. I get sick going to the mall or the movie theater, I miss theme parks so much but have to minimize it to weeks i dont have work so i dont get fired for having a welt while working in the beauty industry. I may have to get a degree online and change my field entirely because of my illness that nobody understands. People even make fun of it constantly online and I wish I could just drop online entirely because of how unbelievably ableist the entirety of the world is, i wish i could drop humans in general for their ableism, but i cant. I don’t have choices in most cases, but throwing away people who maybe purposefully maybe unintentionally thats why i’m giving you this warning and will be repeating this warning for awhile, this is where i have choice. I have to use what little choice I have in life while I can since everytime i go to movies or a concert or a theme park i almost die because of not having an immune system that functions or being in certain air qualities pr being near plants or unclean people, I may not have much time and I gotta do whats best for what little mental health I have, and if that means dropping people i care about and really want to write with and do things with but who ignore me then, i guess so be it.
#out.#illness cw#health cw#food mention#ive been writing this since noon and its now two pm so this is great#i’s usually put this under a read more but... maybe most people dont deserve a read more rn lol#their behavior will keep being awful if its not pointed out to them so#im done im gonna go welt up from hugging my cat and cry for a bit because i feel mean
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i wanted to post about this last night but it was so late & i was too sleepy to say anything coherent (no promises that this will be actually coherent)
but i wanted to clarify that the reason i was so happy about jester taking the flask wasnt because i thought it was a Good Idea, or that it would somehow cure notts alcoholism or in fact fix it in any way. but it was, finally, SOMEONE doing SOMETHING.
jester has been the only one so far to treat notts alcoholism as anything but a joke. shes been quietly worried over it for some time, but the past couple episodes you can see her concern growing as nott doubles down on the drinking and the alcohol induced recklessness. i mean, nott REALLY could have gotten ALL OF THEM killed this week with that fireball trap.
so jester sees the drinking is going too far. she knows something needs to be done but we know shes not going to confront anyone about a problem like this and risk them getting mad at her, not liking her anymore. the other party members that are more willing to have these Hard Talks arent stepping up. and its not like jester has any experience dealing with addiction. so she tries to fix it the only way she knows how, which makes sense from her perspective, which is to take the problem away.
once again, not a smart/good way to deal with it, but you can see why she did it, and that it came from a place of compassion and a genuine desire to help. and, to be fair, jester just recently saw nott doing fairly well without drinking at all! jester knows she can be fine without it, shes witnessed it, why would it be any different this time?
(the difference being, obviously, that last time nott quit of her own free will and this time the choice was robbed from her)
which also brings me to caleb? of anyone he has the least excuse for letting this go on and continuing to enable nott, right? i mean it makes sense in the beginning. the whole time shes been clearly using it to cope with her anxiety and the two of them being constantly on the run didnt facilitate anything besides that short term solution. it wasnt a great situation but it made sense.
but now theyve got a support system, theyve got safety in numbers, theyve had multiple instances of downtime where the subject could have been brought up. but caleb, like everyone else, ignores it as an actual problem. he even encourages her to drink at times. whats his deal?
i genuinely dont understand what his plan is with making a point to go buy her liquor (and attempting to buy LOTS of liquor) and then.... keeping it from her? it would make sense if the idea was to have some to tide her over until they get to a safe stopping point where they could address the issue properly, or use what he bought to try and wean her off of it, just in general a temporary solution until they are maybe back at the xhorhaus or something and can dedicate the appropriate time and attention to this. but he just? bought it and didnt tell anyone? whats the plan caleb?
same with fjord! while im here im gonna call his bullshit too! what was the point of buying the whiskey in front of her in order to just, make a point to not let her have it? what purpose does that serve? what could that possibly do but make the problem worse? ik he and nott have a bit of an antagonistic relationship atm but damn fjord that is very wis 7 of you
this is getting off track but my main point is that this has been a long standing issue that the whole party has been turning a blind eye to for a long time. even now, with jester finally doing something to draw their attention to it, they were still fairly dismissive of notts freakout when the flask turned up missing. the whole party needs to step up their game in supporting her! which includes tough love where necessary!
i think its a step in the right direction that jester has finally done SOMETHING about it, even if its not really the right way to deal with it. this could be a great jumping off point for them to actually start working on this to make a positive impact in the future, given that they finally start taking it seriously.
i just worry about the eventual fallout when nott inevitably learns it was jester that stole the flask....
#critical role#nott the brave#jester#cr2#cr2e66#i need to remember to tag the episodes sorry#you can reply to this message#this got very long and rambly sorry folks
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this is gonna be long and its just kidna like... a reflection on my family bc im feeling some sort of way (this happens peridoically bc of the whole >moving thing), feel free to ignore
to start from the top i kinda wanna begin at the beginning of (my) issues though in reality the cycle of abuse i know goes back to at least my great grandma but like. she was greatly impaired mentally by the time i was born and essentially unable to communicate so idk her at all, i only know vaguely that she abused my grandmother
which lead to my grandmother being.... idk. its very clear to me that she relies heavily on the bible and in specific sees her view of the verses as objectively correct because shes convinced herself shes special, not just in that sense but in the sense that she earnestly believes like televangelists selling the idea you can talk to angels and shit. she uses the bible to justify her hatred and prejudice and Never have to challenge a single thing about herself or her worldview
but even beyond that shes just an abusive and horrible person, from what i understand shed hit her female children with wooden spoons and my grandpa would beat the men until they were bloody and while they ‘got better’ and no longer condone that its... idk
to this day shes consistently manipulative and plays the victim whenever someone tries to establish a boundary or do Anything she doesn’t like, she uses her power as the owner of this house to threaten me and my family on occassion and then when things are ‘good’ pretends the bad times never happened. if you try to call her out on a previous argument though youre villainized because its “over” so theres no point in ever trying to find closure
and my mom defends her for all this despite acknowledging the behaviour, shes very clearly both aware and awre of the psychological effect it has on me, my sister, and even herself but dismisses it because “shes family” and while i understand the complex feelings of “family is bad sometimes” and wanting to love someone despite their history of manipulation and abuse the result is her dismisisng and sweeping under the rug any feeling that doesnt feed into her view of a ‘perfect family’
not that it matter anwyays bc i remember my mom sitting me down and saying i was more like a ‘roommate’ to her to justify her lashing out at me for asking her to turn the tv down/go to her bfs place instead of constantly having him over because the tv was being turned up to over volume 100 (!!!) in the room directly next to mine which caused massive distress to me to the point of suicidal impulses, an issue my mom is both accutely aware of and the cause. she then basically told me straight up to move
i started saving back then because i agreed i didnt wanna spend any time with her anymore because she had progressively started to treat me worse and worse when her bf was around but obviously it was slow going with disability, but dont worry! my mom made sure to suggest selling the house to the grandparents so i would inevitably be cornered (likely since she broke up with her bf and was trying to corner me and my sister into moving out with her which has been a goal for her for a while so she could afford it) which im not doing bc lol id rather be homeless and i have enough of a support system that i can find. somewhere
but of course now shes not with her bf who fucking hated me things are normalizing again and i almost feel like an asshole for resenting her because it throws into doubt everything i feel
its just another complciated relationship and my relationship with my sister is just as fraught because my sister is very kind to me but somewhat sporadically has massive like freakouts where she verablly abuses me and often threatens self harm over what is often. nothing and then when shes fine again basically just pretends it never happened and insists shes mentally healthy and ‘fixed’ herself and will never apologize for any of the trauma or fear shes inflicted and yet i STILL want a relationship with her but at the same time if im anywhere near her m just constantly on edge that a mistake has a 50/50 of being ‘its ok’ or a 30 minute screaming fit at me while i cry and hyperventilate !
my dad is trying to recover a relationship with me but when i tried to finally ask to talk like. ont he phone he ghosted me so fuck him i guess
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In Between (BTS series) || Chapter 9.2 / Alternative Ending for NAMJOON
This series is based on a request made by the lovely @im-cxnfused. I hope it manages to meet your expectations! 💜
I got very inspired by this request, so it actually turned into a series.
This is one of two alternative endings to said series. Having arrived here, you must have gone to the right, choosing to go towards NAMJOON instead of Jimin. Let’s see how that goes …
Thank you for reading 💜 and staying with this series to the end! It’s much appreciated! Also, feedback is always welcome, in case you didn’t know. I truly hope this ending manages to meet your expectations somehow and doesn’t leave (too many of) you frustrated / upset / disappointed 🙊
Anyways, I won’t give any (more) spoilers.
Enjoy! 💜 And feel free to leave feedback!
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Chapter Index - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.1, 9.2
Synopsis
You and Namjoon are in a committed relationship. Or so you had thought. When you catch him cheating, however, you decide to take revenge in a way equally brutal. But soon the events take an unforeseen turn, leaving you torn …
Pairing: You x Namjoon, You x Jimin
angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, occasional hints of smut
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You nod, pressing your eyes shut, drawing one last, deep breath before you turn to your right.
Namjoon seems genuinely surprised when you open your eyes to look at him. Slowly, you take the first step towards him, a confident nod of your head answering the unvoiced question his wide eyes virtually scream at you. In obvious disbelief, his jaw drops while his face lights up with incredulous joy. „Really?“, he gasps, walking in your direction to meet you halfway and throw his arms around you, lifting you off the floor. „Yes, Namjoon.“ You break the embrace and take a step back, enabling you to look him straight in the eyes. „I’ll give you one last chance. One last chance to prove you’re still the man I fell in love with.“ „I will, y/n!“, he immediately assures you. „I will do everything in my power to prove to you that I am still worthy of your trust and love. I will atone for my indiscretion for the rest of my life and do whatever I can to make it up to you, I promise! Because, I really, truly, love you more than anything, y/n! I’m not exaggerating when I say I love you more than life itself. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and up until this moment, just now, I believed to have lost you for good. You have no idea how happy you make me by taking me back, y/n. I am seriously the happiest man alive on this whole, wide world right now. Thank you. Thank you, for giving me another chance.“ Still grinning broadly, Namjoon takes your hands into his and places gentle kisses on your scabbed knuckles, all the while looking you deep in the eyes, his gleaming with pure bliss and affection. A fond smile curving your lips, you watch him, your heart painfully twisting in your chest, torn between the happiness you feel at the sight of him right now and the hurtful memories of his past wrongdoings, haunting this reunion like dark shadows of an unfortunate future already towering over you. No, you push back your doubts. No, this is the right choice. You have to see if this, if you, can still work. Your heart had told you so. Told you to chose Namjoon once again. The past two years couldn't have been for nothing. They must be worth something, just like the promises he made, the plans you had for the shared years still ahead of you. Besides, you really have not much of a choice. After all, it’s not just your future at stake now. Not anymore. Yes. This must have been the right choice. You’re sure of it. Almost. Conscience-stricken, you turn around to look back at Jimin who has already left. His back to the two of you, he strides across the bridge, shoulders hunched, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans. He must be freezing. „I feel so sorry for him“, Namjoon mumbles into your hair, one arm wrapped around your waist, his words conveying nothing but sincerity. Yes. Sorry. That’s how you feel towards Jimin. No more, no less. Or at least that’s what you try to convince your pounding heart of. To no avail, though. You can’t keep lying to yourself. „Namjoon, I’m sorry. But there is something I have to say to him. I just can’t let him leave like this. I’ll be right back, okay?“ He nods, his eyes still fixed on Jimin’s stooping figure, slowly edging away. Clutching Jimin’s pebble in your aching hand inside the pocket of his coat you’re still wearing, you run after him, your legs carrying you as fast as they can, until you finally catch up to him, ready to collapse, struggling for breath, your throat hurting from the cold air. „Jimin“, you gasp, barely catching him by the rim of his sweatshirt, incapable of taking even one more step. Flustered, he turns around, his face showing astonishment, anger, and an unbearable magnitude of pure pain. Seeing you, he instantly regains control over his emotions, his expression quickly changing into a cold, impassive mask, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your bent figure, still panting heavily. „What?“, he asks, his voice dead. „Your coat“, you barely get the words out, your lungs continuing to ache. „You can keep it“, Jimin simply shrugs, but you take it off nonetheless, handing it over only with the utmost reluctance, though, your hands not seeming to be willing to let go of the piece of clothing even when Jimin has long accepted it. So you stay, unmoving, both holding onto his feather down parka, staring into each other’s eyes as if aiming to burn holes into the opposite’s soul. „I’m so sorry, Jimin.“ He shows no reaction. „I know, it’s horribly selfish of me to say this, but I believe you should know in spite of everything.“ Your voice dries up, choking on the tears flooding your eyes. „Know what?“, Jimin inquires after seconds have passed. „I think I owe you at least my honesty“, you finally go on. „So, in the interest of full disclosure and the hope that it will somehow help you, us, to move on and maybe find back to our friendship one day in the not too distant future, I feel I need to tell you that I truly love you, Park Jimin. I still do. I always will. My feelings for you were real all along, nothing of it was ever fake or forced. And they will remain with me as long as I live, I’m sure of it. And I’m not telling you this to justify my choices or behavior. I am well aware of the fact that I mistreated you, and I hate myself for the way things came to be between us. I should never have let it go so far. I’m not saying that I regret being with you as more than a friend. I was happy during those weeks. You made me happy. Jimin, you are without a doubt one of the kindest, most loving, dedicated, strong and beautiful people I have ever met. And I know I don’t even deserve you, but in my egoism, I still wish we could just carry on what we started, just be together and —“ „Then let’s!“, he cuts you off, eyes suddenly alight with excitement, grasping your hand. Unwillingly, you pull away from his touch, peering at Namjoon who is watching your interactions intently. „Let’s just do that, y/n. Let’s be together. Namjoon will understand. Let’s just continue as if nothing happened“, he implores you, his pleading tone stinging your heart. Dropping your gaze, you slowly shake your head. „No. I’m sorry, Jimin, but we can’t do that.“ „Why not? Why can’t we?“ „Because there’s something I haven’t told you. Any of you. Namjoon doesn’t know either. I found out the day before I walked in on him and that woman. I was planning on telling him after my trip, but —“ „What? What is it, y/n!?“, he stops you in mid-sentence, having grabbed you by the shoulders with both hands, trying to catch your gaze, his eyes immediately wide with concern and panic. „Calm down, Jimin. It’s not like I’m gonna die or anything“, you scoff. But he doesn't seem to deem your remark especially funny. „Stop beating around the bush, y/n. I want to know, right now. What is it you have been keeping to yourself?“ You swallow hard, trying to gather the courage to say your following words out loud for the first time. „Jimin, I’m pregnant.“
You can literally watch his jaw drop, all color draining from his shocked features. „You — You —“ Obviously struggling for words, Jimin merely points to your belly, his face frozen in a haunting state between dismay and delight. „Yes, Jimin, there’s a living being growing inside me that partly carries Kim Namjoon’s DNA.“ Still incredulous, his gaze wanders from your womb up to your eyes and back. „You’re serious?“, he eventually manages to say. „As serious as it gets. Why would I joke about something like this? It’s happening, Jimin, I’m inevitably getting huge and becoming a mother.“ „Wow.“ „Yeah, wow.“ For about a minute you stand opposite each other in silence, unmoving, until Jimin finally shakes off his paralysis, wresting his coat from your hands, still clutched around its sleeve, to wrap it around you once again. „Have you completely lost your mind, y/n!?“, he then unexpectedly raises his voice at you, apparently genuinely angry. „Running around like this, half-naked in this cold weather, when you are with child? Didn’t you think of your baby at all when you ran off like that?“ „Jimin, I didn’t think, alright? I’m not yet at all times fully aware of the fact that I’m gonna be a mother. I guess I’ll get used to it somehow, sooner or later. Used to not only think for myself anymore. But I’m not ready yet, okay?“, you scream back at him, your voice shrill and far too loud. But you don’t care about the passers-by staring, not even if Namjoon hears you. Tears now run down your cheeks, no strength left in you to hold them back for even only one more second. „The past few weeks have been intense. Too much, frankly. Confusing. Hurtful. Life changing. After I found out Namjoon was cheating — God knows if it was even his first time and how far things really went between him and that woman — It was like I was suddenly out of touch with my own life. I’m not even sure if I did it subconsciously or deliberately, but from the moment on when I walked in on them, I kind of blanked out all my thoughts and feelings of and for Namjoon, our past, and future. I forgot that I was carrying his child. I forgot. Can you believe it? Yes, I was sick, all the time. Remember? I puked like crazy. But we all thought it was psychosomatic nausea, or because I didn’t eat or something. And, yes, I was tired all the time. But I cried nonstop during the first few days. So, it didn’t seem that strange, right? Thinking back, I was so obviously pregnant, it’s almost funny, really. But I just didn’t wanna cope with it at the time, I guess. It’s not like I really forgot. I knew I was pregnant. Things like that don’t just slip your mind“, you scoff, Jimin simply staring at you, mouth agape. „You know, I had so much to deal with in the past few weeks, I couldn’t deal with becoming a mother, or maybe even a single parent, too. I had to get my act together first. So, I guess momentarily editing out the pregnancy part from the plot was, I don’t know, reasonable? The doing of some subliminal protective mechanism taking over my brain or something?“ You shrug helplessly, half laughing half crying. „Anyway, that’s why I have to give my relationship with Namjoon at least one last chance. I have to see if we can make it work. I won’t force anything, because no child can grow up happily and healthily in a forced marriage, hence a phony family. I don’t want that for this little guy. I want him or her to have parents who don’t only love their child, but also each other. If that’s not an option I’d rather raise this kid all by myself. Do you understand?“ „Yes“, Jimin nods, his expression serious. „I think that sounds very mature.“ „Thanks, I guess.“ Blushing, not even entirely sure why, you avert your face while Jimin leans in to gently pull the parka’s huge, faux furred hood over your head to protect your face against the gusting wind. „That was quite a monologue“, he smirks after the both of you had stood in silence for another painful minute. „Yeah. Sorry about that.“ „Don’t apologize. I just you think should have shared this revelatory moment with Namjoon, not with me, y/n.“ Tears, welling up once again, drown your voice, so instead you shake your head in response, avoiding Jimin’s eye. „Go to him, y/n. He must be worried out of his mind after watching the show you put on just now. Go to Namjoon, tell him about his child.“ Doing your best not to turn into a teary mess again, you ferociously chew on your bottom lip, feeling for Jimin’s rock in the depth of the left jacket pocket. Finally, you find it, immediate relief coming over you as you feel its cold, smooth surface against the palm of your hand. Questioningly, Jimin raises an eyebrow when you hold out your fist to him. „Open your hand“, you order him. Hesitantly, he does as you say, his eyes growing wide as he realizes what you just handed him. „I want you to keep that“, you explain, mustering neither the courage nor the strength to look him in the eye as you speak your next words. „I’m not gonna tell you to wait for me, Jimin. I don’t want you to waste any more of your time on me. I want you to live and love as freely as you please. I’m just saying that we never know what may happen. And that my heart belongs to you. It has ever since you picked this very stone up at the beach that day, and it always will. So, see this pebble as my heart and treat it well. Maybe it will bring you good luck, just like you always believed it would. I hope it does.“ Waving, forcing a smile, you look over at Namjoon when you notice him staring. „I have to go, Jimin. Please, get home safely and quickly. Try not to catch a cold. I’d hate to ruin your comeback.“ „Don’t worry.“ He smiles weakly. „I’m stronger than I look.“ „I know you are. I never doubted it.“ He shrugs. „Take care. Don’t do anything stupid. And, please, let’s stay friends.“ Before turning to go, you get on the tip of your toes, following a spontaneous impulse, and give Jimin a little peck on the cheek, leaving him flustered as you hurry back to Namjoons side, grateful for the icy wind quickly drying your tears. „What was that all about?“, Namjoon welcomes you. „You screamed and shouted. Did you have a fight?“ „No, not at all“, you shake your head. „Well, it looked like a fight“, he objects, suspiciously eying Jimin over his shoulder while he links arms with you and the two of you start walking in the opposite direction. „Not everything is always what it looks like, Namjoonie.“ A sigh escapes your lips. Just like it used to be, you think to yourself as you stroll across the bridge, Namjoon’s long arm across your shoulder. Almost. There is always going to be a bitter aftertaste to every joyful moment you both will share from now on, you then realize, a shiver running down your spine. „Joon, I have to tell you something. It’s kind of a big deal, actually, but I don’t want you to make a big fuss about it or anything.“ „Okay. Spill.“
THREE YEARS LATER...
„Now, again, Hyun-shik-ah, who is your daddy?“ Pouting, the little boy points to Jimin on whose lap he’s comfortably seated. „Wellllll …“, you tilt your head, having trouble to hold back amused laughter, as does Jimin, obviously. He is pressing his lips firmly shut, eyes gleaming with affection, looking at the little guy as if he could eat him alive right here and now. „Yes, he’s your daddy, too, of course.” „My favorite daddy“, Hyun-shik snaps, crossing his arms across his tiny chest, rosy lips pursed. Contritely, you look over at Namjoon, who, to your great relief, seems to be just as enamored by Hyun-shik and his little antics as you are. „And who is your other daddy?“ Reluctantly, the little one’s eyes land on Namjoon. „Yes, that’s right. Who’s that?“, you ask, reassuringly patting Hyun-shik’s glossy black hair. „I’m your daddy Namjoon, isn’t that right?“, Namjoon tries to break the ice, smiling cutely, the famous dimples showing which he passed on to the three-year-old of his own flesh and blood he is carefully approaching at this very moment. The little guy shyly pushes back into Jimin’s arms, hiding his handsome little face behind a curtain of shiny raven hair, his tiny black eyes wide and cheeks flushed. „I’m sorry, Namjoon, but he’s going through this phase right now, where he doesn’t let ‚strangers‘ near him. And you become practically a stranger to him as soon as he doesn’t see you for like three days in a row. He is just very shy right now.“ „You don’t have to make excuses, y/n, I know I haven’t seen him in a while. And he’s too young to understand“, Namjoon simply smiles, retreating and taking a seat next to you on the sofa, still fondly watching little Hyun-shik who has turned to Jimin, whispering something into his dad's ear, impatiently pulling at his hair when Jimin doesn’t come close enough quickly enough. An unconscious smile curves your lips while you observe their loving interactions, Hyun-shik and Jimin being lost in their own world, as usual, now quietly laughing at a joke they don't share with you. „He’s growing up so fast“, Namjoon sighs. „Yes. And he’s such a clever boy. Learning something new every day. That must be your genomes coming through“, you banter, eliciting a soft chuckle from Namjoon. „I should come and see him more often.“ „Yes, you should. I’m sure he’d grow to accept and love you quickly if you’d only visit on a more regular basis.“ Namjoon nods. „Maybe. But it’s not that easy, especially now that I have my solo career on the side.“ „I know, I know. I don’t intend to pressure you or give you a guilty conscience, Namjoon. You’re a passionate, successful man, I respect that. But you shouldn't forget that you can’t have everything.“ „I know, I know.“ For a few minutes, the two of you silently sit side by side, simply watching Jimin and Hyun-shik playing with toy cars, racing along an invisible course across the carpet of your living room. Until ... „Guess who is hooooome!?“, a loud voice suddenly rips throw the peaceful atmosphere. „Daddy Jin!“, Hyun-shik shouts out, his round little face lighting up at the sight of Seokjin appearing in the door frame, carrying several tightly packed shopping bags. Regardless of said bags, Hyun-shik throws himself into the extended arms of Jin, sending the both of them almost tumbling to the ground. „Ouch“, Namjoon scoffs at his son’s rejoice. „Well, Jin he sees almost every day at least for a few hours. You, on the other hand, he hasn't seen in … What? Five weeks?“ „Alright, alright, I’ll make an effort to come by more often“, he promises, his eyes still fixed on the three-year-old now helping Jin carry the heavy bags towards the kitchen. „Guess what I’m gonna cook for us today, Hyun-shik-ah?“ Smiling to yourself you watch Jin and your son disappear into the corridor. „I’m headed to the kitchen to help Jin out. As you very well know our Hyun-shik can be quite a handful“, Jimin says, leaning over the sofa’s backrest next to you. „Is there anything you want, baby? Anything you need? That herbal tea you’re crazy for these days? Or some watermelon maybe?“ „No, thanks, Jimin honey“, you smile, turning towards him to meet his lips in a quick kiss. „Alright“, he sighs, leaning down even further to tenderly caress your round belly before he turns to go. „I’ll be in the kitchen if you or Mini-Park need anything, y/n baby. The guys are coming over for dinner soon. Jungkookie promised he’d bring that snack you crave. What was it again?“
THE END
Thank you all for reading and sticking with this series until the end!!! 🙏🏻💜
I hope you enjoyed this final chapter and the way it turned out! I really hope I didn’t disappoint any / too many of you who expected an actual happy ending your y/n and Namjoon. Just like I didn’t have an actual outline for the other alternative ending, I didn’t have this one exactly planned out, either, but rather just went with the flow, to see where it would take me …I intended to somehow force a scenario in which Namjoon and y/n end up happily together. But it just didn’t feel right / seem reasonable or natural. And the pregnancy thing was actually the product of a spontaneous idea. It surprised me, too, but in the end, it somehow made sense. + I never said in this version y/n would actually end up with Namjoon. I merely said you / y/n would choose to go right, towards Namjoon, and pick him at that very moment. from there onwards the story kind of developed a life of its own. Sorry, not sorry. + (I hope? lol) Anyways, I really hope you, who chose to go right and stay loyal to Namjoon despite everything he did, are still somehow satisfied with the outcome and don’t hate me too much. 😭💜Feel free to leave feedback and check out my Masterlist for more BTS fiction.
Anyway, thanks again for staying with this series! I hope you enjoyed it! take care! I wish you all the best and a very nice day! 💜
P.S.: There’ll probably be a BONUS CHAPTER added soon, for everyone who’s interested, telling the story of your / y/n’s first meeting with Jimin and the events that followed …
#bts#bts fiction#bts imagine#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts reaction#bts reactions#bts fluff#bts boyfriend#bts romance#bangtan reactions#bangtan scenarios#bts masterlist#bts series#bts namjoon#bts namjoon scenario#bts namjoon reaction#bts namjoon imagine#bts namjoon fluff#bts namjoon x reader#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#you x namjoon#kim namjoon#kim namjoon scenario#kim namjoon reaction#bts rm scenario#bts rm#bts jimin#bts jimin scnenario
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so.... somebody i was dating up until about an hour or two ago is abusive and an abuse apologist
i’m gonna keep it short and im going to leave out a lot of things from public view unless somebody asks to see it, mostly for my peace of mind, literally no other reason, rest assured i have chatlogs and screenshots of what happened between us.
edit: the person in question is jeremytheman and runs a few other blogs including a dear even hansen kin aesthetics blog, he also runs kinsational, a kinchat i originally created myself. (it was dumb to give him server owner permissions, i know.) if you are in kinsational i implore you to leave. i will be remaking kinsational myself later.
lets just start off with this copy paste i have here bc it sums up what happened.
nicc-Today at 2:06 PM
hes abusive and an abuse apologist i told him about somebody who hurt me and my girlfriend and he instantly sided with them despite not having any proof that i was lying he called me a liar multiple times within the past hour, accused me of manipulating him and abusing him and abusing this person. even after i gave him all the proof i could he admitted to having lied about loving me and being happy with me and accused me of making him feel suicidal
screenshot of the message so im not accused of faking it. (fixed some typos in the c/p lol)
last night i had a huge breakdown where because of something my girlfriend said to me and has been saying to me for a short while now, i thought that i HAD to dump both this person and my other boyfriend in order to not make my gf jealous or hurt anymore, it literally tore at my heart and after sleeping on it after talking to star about it i realized that i could be with them anyway, it wasn’t my fault nor was it on me because star made me think that and star was the one who needed to change, not me. i apologized to both of them.
i was in the middle of trying to figure things out with jeremy (debated whether or not to name drop him..) when somebody who i already have a callout for joined this kin server we were both in that i had JUST joined moments prior. panicking i pushed him away and left the server and blocked the server owner. immediately upon talking to the person i called out jeremy decided that i was lying and trying to abuse this person with no proof from their side and proceeded to hound me for proof (which i gave all that i had to him but apparently it wasn’t enough. this is ironic considering he believed me about my abuser before despite having the same amount of proof.) panicking, upset, and very hurt i split on him and tried both to convince him that i was telling the truth and cushion the inevitable by saying coping statements (even if unhealthy) such as “you never loved me”, etc.
he started accusing me of guilt tripping him and being abusive, explicitly stating that he thought i was abusing him. he then admitted that he has been lying and hiding how he’s really felt towards me since day one (which is essentially summed up to “i never loved you”)
he said that ive made him miserable and suicidal and says that him betraying me isn’t an excuse for me “abusing” him
he said that me leaving chats he was in to avoid people i didn’t want to be around or me leaving group chats he’s in because i want some alone time and i feel like i’m not good enough to be included in his dating circle is abusive and manipulative. this is straight up a tactic that my abuser has used against me in order to control me, which he would know about, considering that i have shown him what my abuser has done to me before.
he said that me saying i wanted to kms is abusive and manipulative, further fueled by the fact that i am genuinely suicidal, according to him. he knows that i am off my anti depressants, having vented about it before where he could see it, he also knows that i have attempted before, so i have a complicated relationship with suicidal ideation.
he says that me saying nobody cares about me is manipulative and guilt tripping, except that i don’t say it to do that or even think about it like that, its just me venting, because i genuinely believe that it is true unless im having a good day, which is rare now due to me being off my meds and not being able to see a therapist for some time now, another thing he is blatantly aware of.
i tried begging him to talk to me about things, i offered to drop my stance about defending myself and my girlfriend against the person i had called out and listen to him which he then called another guilt tripping/manipulation tactic, which, while i was desperate to just.. make him believe i was telling the truth and to not leave me, again, i never thought of it that way, nor did i intend for it to be that way, if anything i was hoping that he would at least talk things out with me properly if i stopped being so headstrong and brash.
i have no idea if he plans to turn people against me or make a callout for me, i hope not.
i myself have been telling people what hes done to me and how hes made me feel (more than one occasion has made me feel worthless and made me want to die, among other things) not to turn others against him but to warn him about the kind of person he is, if they side with him, that’s their decision, but i really don’t want to be around the people who would side with him about what went down, considering the context.
if you know him or have met him and you believe him and the person i called out please go ahead and let me know i will remove you from my life. i don’t do devils advocate and i dont do spies.
#starberry.txt#abuser#this isnt a callout its a warning to those who know him or have encountered him#kinsational
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@rockformed replied to your post : i keep goin away for a long time but theres a good...
what asshole?? 👀👀👀👀👀
WHOOO lemme tell you this is a long one (sorry about any spelling errors i was tryna get this done quickly)
it was actually that guy that we played overwatch with together once.
ive known him since about december, but he was saying lots of homophobic and racist shit, so i was like eh might as well try to make him a better person, but to do that, you gotta get close, and i started liking him (literally @ past me why?????)
so i flirt a little here, giggle a little there, and he falls in love with me. i liked him too, but he liked me to a point where it was obsessive. he was telling me i saved his life and that out of everyone on earth im his favorite. i come out to him as trans one day, and after a lot of thinking, he was like “okay yeah im okay with this” and i was happy
however, like i said, he was really obsessive. he wouldnt let me play games with anyone else unless he was there, and when i tried to watch a show with one of our mutual friends, he gets all upset about it.
eventally, even though he liked me, he started being a real ass. i told him that i didnt really like him anymore and that i wanted to stay friends, and he turned it into this huge fight and ended it with “Forget it... Good night.” - and he used that phrase every (and “goodbye”) every time he wanted a conversation to sound final or like he was going to die if i didnt give him all my attention right then and there.
the fighting continued for a few months, during which he called me a sociopath, narcissistic, not worthy off being called a human being, and all that typa stuff. he started feeling suicidal - even though he felt that way before i met him, he started feeling it stronger because he didnt have me constantly fawning over him to ease it out - and he straight up told me that he blamed me for his feelings.
the fights got reaaalllll bad, and eventually he had a set day and time, and every time i said i was going to call his mom about it, he got really defensive and acted like i was attacking him, saying “dont test me” and shit
he became really emotionally manipulative and just flat out malicious tbh
the day came around and i blocked him because i didnt want to hear about it, and he started yet another fight. he didnt do anything though because half an hour later he came crawling back saying that he needed someone to talk to and that he had this whole change of heart and that he realized what his friends were worth and how he acted really shitty and that he was sorry
but he didnt change his behavior at all lmao
he kept arguing with me, so i started just. not joining as much and not talking to him as often and he got really pissy, asking me if i was talking to other people and accusing me of talking with this guy who he hates (the guy he hates left to make another server with all the people this guy was an asshole to so they could have a place where he wasnt there being a dick and the guy im telling you about acts like the victim whenever he talks about it like?? literally if u were a better friend they wouldnt have felt the need to?) (and i totally was talking to the guy bc the enemy of your enemy is your friend and all that) but he was a real ass about it.
and saturday!! this saturday!!! he was an ass the moment i joined the call so i left and he got mad saying like “you know how i get upset when you leave the call” and i was like “i just??? dont wanna be there if ur gonna be mean to me the moment i join??” and he said
THIS BITCH
said
“its a guy thing to be mean to your friends. but i guess you wouldn’t know about that ;)”
so i blocked him. he texts me saying that hes been mean because his dads been on his back about college, and i said it wasnt an excuse. a few minutes later, someone from the server messages me sayin that nick said if i dont unblock him hes gonna ban me. so i unblocked him and asked for a reason why i should stay. this bitch. this ass. says “because i thought we were friends” LIKE BIIIIIIITCH PLEAAAAAAASE YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WE AINT
anyway we fought for 3 hours and rather than giving me any good reasons to stay he called me stupid and said i misinterpreted the message like?? how else am i supposed to interpret it????????
so im staying, making him fall in love with me again, then leaving.
bonus: i made a list of the highlights of some of the shit things hes said to me
"Forget it... good night." "i used to trust everyone then the thing happened with my cousin so i stopped sharing myself or exposing myself. then i did over the years with kii then she backstabbed me. then ness and it happened again. i didnt trust anyone and still wasnt ok with sharing myself. then u stepped in and made me feel happy and wanted and like i could trust people. then you said you loved me like you did. i opened up and pursued and got lead on for 15 hours a day for a month up until i got enough courage to try to stand and speak open heartedly and with courage and the next day you lose all interest." "you know what? you obviously dont like me anymore. im over it you win. im done chasing. the goalposts always change. its over." "i cant stop chasing you. you are literally my favorite person on earth." "im doing this once a day from now on. wanna go out" "1 reason i got on ow. *1 reason i got on ow off my psych. guess it doesnt matter to you." “For the record the reason im mad all the time is because im fucking pissed at you but cant take it out for some reason.” “reason im so shit ight now is caught i thought i was at rock bottom and you took me up the mountain just to fling me off. forget it. good night." "youre still online. just gonna pretend im not here?" "hope this doesnt wake you up but sorry for being a cunt." "i still want to die haha. life sucks" "im sorry." me: you purposely did something to make me mad and then get upset when i get mad "im hald zoned in rn im getting killed by bad vibes but im not gonna make you mad ever again." "why did you fool me. i fight with you a lot now and its because of what you did to me and how ive lost my sense of self and all emotions because of you. but then i remember this is just how i usually am and being happy is what people are supposed to be like and im not so this is normal and only my fault so. i forgot where i was going with this but take care friend." "if it was the concept thing then why do i still love you." "i get upset because i have to actively avoid falling for you." "im only angry and mean to you because i dont understand my emotions." "im gonna kill myself saturday at 7:32 pm" (<<<this was two weeks ago hes fine now) "im not gonna do it i just want attention" "to keep it 100 i just said that so you wouldnt call anyone." "dont test me" "eat shit" "if youre trying to make me unfriend you its working" "actual human beings dont pull that bullshit. they suck it up and stick to their word or break the news to the other and dont drag them along." me: every humans a human regardless of whether or not they feel "theyre a human. not an actual human. theyre a human but not worthy of being called one." "in 3 months you managed to fuck with my emotions and make me want to kill myself more than kii did in 3 years." "i think this is the last conversation were gonna have. if you got anything important to say speak now or forever hold your peace. alright youre in overwatch and missed your chance." "have fun with your game hope its worth losing me over."
me: im going to call your mom and tell her right now "and say what? 'im a bad friend and now nick wont talk to me?'"
me: no. 'nicks planning on killing himself.' "and ill just say its someone im amd at trying to get revenge on me" "im not convinced that its not a whole thing made specifically to drive me to suicide." "in queue rather than fixing problems. typical. goodbye, asshole." "what if by trying to stop the outcome u saw you just pushed me away from one of the only people i trusted and now im on a path that ends in my inevitable self destruction." "no thats the depression but i am saying u took away what made me happy." "forget it, ill catch you later. apparently no goodbyes either lol." "bye oats." "the only thing you will ever love besides yourself is overwatch. bye." "are you there i just got back and i really need someone." "beause youre the middle man i guess and it was a test of allegiance i think in my mind." "idk i just feel like not many people actually like me deep down and its a shit thing of me to put that on others." "hows ness doing" "because im done walking on eggshells for you, snowflake. "its a guy thing to be a dick to your friends. guess u wouldnt understand ;)" "sorry for being a jerk. dad has been riding me all week and im mad all the time." "maybe you would get it if your dad ever punched you or woke you up by throwing shit at you." (i know for a fact his dad doesnt do this. there was a whole week where we were in a call 24/7 to see how long we could get one to last and his dad brings him dinner and plays xbox in the same room sometimes. i get that from an outside perspective this may seem mean to overlook, but if you knew this guy, you wouldnt put it past him to lie about shit like this just for attention.) "youre being such a baby over this. its not a big deal, its an argument." "considering you didnt write it id consider it awful stupid of you to think you can interpret it better than the author." "you dont know me"
#babbbles#just like#fuck that guy?#legit thinkin about ruinin his entire life. telling future employers hes racist and stuff.
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CHAPTER THREE - HOME AND HEARTH
Gateside Way was a residential area on the southward side of The Outers near Animana’s main gate. There, many quickly and cheaply assembled houses were built as close together as possible to make as much room as they could for the incoming refugees. Such proximity made for a very close knit community and very small roads between each house. As walls were thin, and windows more suggestions, if you cooked a delicious meal, you’d best prepare extras for anyone who could smell it next door. If there was a rumor going around the city, you could be sure to hear it here.
Now, as neither the royal carriage nor the greater dynas that pulled it could make it past the first row of houses, Wally had continued on foot. As he did he was greeted by many, there were several requests for recipes, and small children asking if he’d brought more cookies. He smiled and waved, giving the most polite, if glib, responses he could, apologized here and there and ended up having to help at least one ball out of a tree before, finally, he was home.
The Walter Homestead was really no different from the other hastily constructed, glorified shacks. But to Wally’s eyes, it was nothing but his purely unique home. All the love and hard work the Walter family happily poured into it made the small space a palace in all their eyes. Wally knocked on the door and listened for the telltale patter of bounding feet.
“Who is it?” called a sweet voice from somewhere below the door’s middle.
In that exact instant, Wally’s soul grew ten times lighter and his more playful side felt safe to emerge once more. “Someone who knows you shouldn’t be answering the door, little bouncer.”
There was a sound of latches and locks being quickly undone, the door swung inward quickly and a wallaby much smaller than Walter and wearing a pink sundress shot out like a tensioned spring, tackling him to the ground. “WALLY!” she cried joyously as she embraced him.
Wally chortled breathlessly as the childish missile had expelled all the air in his lungs. As he patted her lovingly on the back a second wallaby, in somewhat shabbier attire than his own and only an inch or so shorter than him came to the open doorway.
“Mum,” he called out loudly but in a strangely flat tone. “Isabelle killed Wally.”
Finally reclaiming the air knocked out of him Wally wheezed, “I’m not dead, Dale.”
Dale stared for a moment and scratched at the fur under his chin lazily. “Mum, Isabelle almost killed Wally.”
Her face still buried in Wally’s chest, little Isabelle replied, “bidnob!”
Slowly, Wally lifted himself up with Isabelle still firmly latched to his torso. He made no move to dislodge her, simply stepping into the house and passing by Dale who closed the door behind him, noticing something out of place with his older brother.
“Wally, ‘zat a sword on your back?”
Isabelle’s ears sprang to full attention and she scrambled upward to look over Wally’s shoulder. “It looks like a sword!”
“Z’it a gift for da?” Dale yawned.
“Is it?” Isabelle asked. “I thought da didn’t like swords anymore.”
Wally finally dislodged his sister and set her on her feet. “I’ll tell you both at the dinner table, mum and da too, alright?”
Isabelle had already dashed off at the word dinner, her seat rocking slightly as she’d sat down far too quickly.
Wally stood by the entrance of what could, by either a compassionate or irrational mind, be called a kitchen. His mother, Janice, was humming something that sounded familiar as she stirred a ladle through a massive pot of something boiling. Closing his eyes and breathing in the scent, he knew instantly it was Adleroot Stew with Chopped Tan. He made his way over to his mother, reached up to a cabinet and pulled out a small shaker of Surry Spice before his mother smacked it out his hand with a spoon.
“Don’t care how many cooks you worked with, you’re not changing any of my recipes.”
“… Just a lit-”
Wally’s mother stared down at him, which was a remarkable feat given that they were the same height.
“Right, fine as it is Mum.” Wally smiled and stood off to the side to give her room before he counted off the chairs at the table. “Mum, were you… Expecting me?”
“I’m always expecting you, dear.” With the help of her apron to grip the pot handles, Wally’s mother moved the pot off the fire. “You think just ‘cause you strike out on your own and leave your poor mother to wonder if you’re eatin’ right and stayin’ healthy I won’t have a place at the table for you.”
Resisting the overpowering impulse to roll his eyes, Wally simply put that energy toward a smile. “It’s a little late for guilt, mum. Moved out five years ago, remember?”
She glanced at him once before pulling up some bowls from the nearby cabinet. “Are your hands clean?”
This time it took almost biting through the tip of his tongue not to groan. “Yes, of course they are.”
“Then sit down, it’s almost ready and your father should be home soon… Now, what on Mondia is that business you’re carryin’ on your back there?”
Wally slipped off the sheath’s strap and set the Flare down in the corner of the room. “That… I’m going to explain once da gets in.”
“You’d better. You know how your father feels about swords and I wouldn’t want you aggravating him now.”
Wally nodded quietly and sat at the table. Beside him his little sister wiggled in her chair and bit the ends of her thumbs, anxious for the new story he was going to tell. Opposite him, his younger brother lazily eyed the sword. Wally knew that expression only hid a keen mind that found most tasks so easy as to be boring.
“… S’magic, innit?” Dale said as he leaned back into his chair.
Isabelle gasped sharply and stared even harder at Wally.
He reached over and patted her on the head till she calmed down. “Sharp as ever, Dale. Yes, it is, and that’s all I’m saying.”
“Don’t think da likes magic swords any better, but it’s worth the shot, I’d say.”
“I’ll have no shooting of any kind in here,” said their mother as she rounded the table and set down bowls and a platter of Rolls. “It’s a lovely sentiment dear, but I honestly don’t think it makes for any kind of gift for your father.”
“It’s. Not. For. Da.” Wally sternly announced.
“No? Then why on Mondia would you bring a magic sword home with you?”
“Who’s got a magic sword then dear?”
The amiable yet strong voice of Nathaniel J. Walter had a special gift to it. It could fill a room faster than the wallaby himself could enter it. The sound of his iron peg leg thudding against the floor was always drowned out by it, making you forget it was even there. But what you wouldn’t forget is the sight of no less than the stoutest wallaby in the world. There was no one who could call him small without a tinge of irony, as his presence made him seem a towering fellow in a 3 foot frame.
“HI DA!” Shouted Isabelle, who was just about to rush her father before her mother’s tail nudged her right back into her seat.
Mr. Walter clomped his way over to the small family table, patted Dale on the shoulder, kissed Isabelle on the head, his wife on the cheek, and shook Wally’s hand before finally settling into the seat at the head of the table to clean his glasses, as he had every single day his children could remember.
Isabelle set to tugging her oldest brother’s sleeve. “Da’s here Wally, so tell ‘im about the Magic Sword!”
“Wally,” Nathaniel laughed. “You know better than to get your sister all excited before dinner with some silly… Little…” Nathaniel voice trailed off as something shone in the corner of the room and caught his eye. He spent quite some time trying to convince his brain to make sense out of whatever it was, because it couldn’t possible be what he thought. He cleared his throat, rubbed his eyes as subtly as anyone could, put on his glasses, and forced himself to stare right at it. Then, finally, in a voice barely louder than a whisper he said, “That’s… The Stellar Flare.”
Wally raised his profile in the chair in surprise. “Hang on, da, how’d you know that’s what it was?”
“Son, you see it once, you never forget it. I fixed Sir Hammond’s gauntlets once and saw him set it by his side as I did. Closest look I ever got to it. Wally, what… What’s goin’ on son?”
Wally gestured to his mother, that she should take a seat as he readied everyone for the story of a lifetime. He told them how the Flare fell from the sky and into his life, chosen him to wield it in some unknown conflict, how he’d just been knighted by the king himself and that he’d be leaving tomorrow with Sir Hector. His parents sat there in stark silence, taking in every word. Dale folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them, relaxed but mindful. Isabelle looked as if sunshine would explode out of her if she stopped moving for even one moment, wiggling desperately in her chair to keep it all in until Wally finished.
“And that’s… Well… About the size of it, really.”
The old clock that hung beside the stovepipe ticked louder than it ever had in the absence of the Walter Family’s voices. Then, all at once, Nathaniel, Janice, and Isabelle Walter unleashed a torrent of questions, comments, and purely emotional jabbering that’d deafen anyone not used to this exact rabble from years of family life. Wally and Dale said nothing, silently counting the seconds until the inevitable, they always started at four and counted down expertly to the exact moment Nathaniel started striking the floor with his false leg.
“Alright, alright! That’s enough of all that!” The wallaby patriarch called out before clasping his hands on the table. “Round the table, same as always. Wally spoke his peace so we go clockwise.”
Isabelle’s chair almost teetered over, a recoil of her excited hopping as she readied to belt out the loudest vocalizations of excitement and wonderment ever to leave a child.
“Except we’re skipping Isabelle, we all know what you’re gonna say dear.”
She froze on the spot; her expression sank like a rock as she slumped back into her chair, huffing loudly as she crossed her arms in pure childish frustration.
The eyes around the table all turned to the stern and motherly face. “Well,” Janice began, in the universally recognized tone of motherhood. “You’re not going. I don’t care if the king himself drags you off by your ears! You take that sword to the castle tomorrow and you tell them ‘no’. End of discussion. It’s not enough my husband loses his leg in defense of this country now they want my Wally to save the whole world?”
Wally began to say something, only to have the trial worthy clop of an iron prosthetic cut him and his mother off.
“Best choice really,” Dale spoke over his arms. “Better n’some one with no sense to ‘em. I mean… Wally doesn’t know how to use a sword, yeah? So he’s the best choice because he knows they’re dangerous. Someone who waves ‘em ‘round all the time’s just gonna use it whenever they want and not think first.”
Wally smiled. “Thank you, Dale.”
“’Course, you should actually learn how to use it. Don’t go loppin’ off yer own ear er nuffin.”
Wally sighed. “Thank you, Dale.”
Attention then turned to the oldest wallaby in the room. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and sat quite still for a well sized moment. “Wally,” He began, his position unchanged. “Do you want to go? Honestly?”
With strangely little pause, Wally replied, “Honestly da, I need to go.”
Nathaniel Walter finally moved, leaning in closer to hear what his son had to say to the following question. “Need because they told you to, or because you told them?”
Wally’s shoulders relaxed as he looked around the room at his family. “I thought about this on the way here, really thought. I finally managed to calm down enough that it all started to sink in. At first I thought, there was nothing in my life that could’ve prepared me for what’s about to come. But I was wrong… Everything you and mum have ever taught me, all those lessons and morals, it’s exactly what I needed to make this choice. It’s dangerous, it’s scary, I have no idea how much this will change me or if I’ll even still be me by the end of it.” He took a breath, not because he needed the air but the time. Time to make sure he didn’t regret or second guess a single word. “But then,” he continued. “I wouldn’t be who I am, the wallaby you raised me to be, if I stayed.”
There was a pause of exactly five seconds before Janice filled the room with a long held noise of both sadness and elation as she stood, rounded the table, grabbed Wally out of his chair and held him as tightly as she could. Through quickly forming sobs she shouted “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”
The rest of the night was no different than any other for the Walter family. A single fireplace to warm the small space, crackling idly as a near silent witness to stories shared at the table. Isabelle demanded Wally bring her souvenirs from all around the world, which she was certain he’d be going. Dale complained that, once again, their father had sent him home early from the smithy and had taken on more work than he should. Nathaniel reminded Dale that the shop might be his someday, but that he wasn’t quite dead enough for him to claim it. Janice talked about the wedding dress she’d finished and delivered that afternoon before coming home to ready dinner, which she quickly parleyed into a demand that if Wally met some fine girl on his journey he’d better bring her home first and not even think the word ‘elope’ if he knew what was good for him.
In retrospect, Wally hardly said anything. He simply enjoyed being the receptacle to his family’s emotions, loving every moment of their company as he had before. It was the most normal thing about his day and made up for the enormous changes that had come his way. Soon it grew late and the sun set on The Outers, leaving the Walter family to settle in for the night.
After an all too brief moment of dreamless sleep, Wally stirred uncomfortably in his cot. Resigned that he couldn’t find the willingness to lie back down, he padded carefully to the front door, stepping outside for some fresh air. Instead he found is father sitting on the small porch, watching the second moon crest over the far wall of the city.
They eyed each other silently before settling on watching the blue moon in motion above them.
Finally, it was Nathaniel that broke the silence. “How many moons are there, son?”
Wally locked up for the briefest moment at the sudden sound of his father’s voice in the dead silent night. He puzzled on what kind of question that was before he replied, “four. Idium, Nares, Tygon, and Rali.”
“And how do you know that?”
Wally could feel a hint of incredulity taint his expression. “Well, you taught me that of course.”
“Right…” Nathanial took of his glasses and set to clean them as he spoke. “Because it’d been taught to me by my father, and him his father… Down the line for who knows how long.”
“… I’m sorry I’m having trouble understanding just where this is going, da.”
“Parents teach their children things they learned in life, passing on what they think their children need to not just survive, but live. So I sit here and remember the little wallaby on this knee,” he patted it for emphasis, “askin’ his da the names of the moons.”
Wally smiled at the flash of memory.
His father looked down at his glasses. “Never thought for a minute, I’d have to teach you how to fight a war. Kinda regret bein’ so quiet about my time in the United Front.”
“You’ve your reasons, I don’t doubt.”
“Mmm, that I do son. War’s an ugly business, not something children should ever have to learn that much about.”
Wally’s ears drooped slightly. “But that’s the case isn’t it… Going off with Sir Hector and the Flare in tow means I’m probably going off to the start of a war or worse.”
“Nail on the head, my boy,” he put his glasses back on and leaned back on his arms.
Silence came and settled in between the two of them, followed by the sound of Wally sitting next to his father. The night wind whistled over the lip of the city wall behind them, and in the distance the Dores River continued its constant rambling. Wally then felt the hand of his father clasp onto his shoulder and put his own hand over it.
“I don’t know where you’ll be tomorrow son, and that’s got this old wallaby spooked. But don’t you worry ‘bout me for a minute, y’hear? Because I’ll tell you this right now.”
Wally looked to his father, had he not been rendered speechless, he might have remarked that he’d never seen tears in his eyes before.
“You’re gonna do amazing things, and I don’t think for one moment Mondia could be in better hands.”
Wally wiped a few tears from his own eyes. “Thanks da.”
Slowly the moment passed, the two of them returned to their beds; much to the grumbling dismay of the others they woke on their way back inside. Later that night Isabelle would sleepily made her way out of her hammock, and plop herself down hard on Wally’s chest. He considered that her tiny revenge for waking her earlier, and let her sleep.
Soon morning came to greet the household and cued the sounds and smells of a fresh breakfast that Wally had insisted on preparing, despite his mother’s protest. He, of course, made a few extra rolls for the neighbors who came to the kitchen window. It wasn’t long, however, until sounds of shock and surprise slowly approached their home, followed by polite knocking. Isabelle bounded off toward the door, only to be intercepted half way by her mother.
“Honestly Izzy, why do I always have ta’ race you to answer th’ door?”
Isabelle giggled as her mother set her back down.
Janice perked her ears and straightened her clothes as she approached the door. “Who is it?”
“Cinera Rodichenko Olasky. But most people call me ‘Cinera’ since the rest of that is a mouthful.”
She rolled her eyes. “As in the royal seer? Right, and I’m the flippin’ queen.”
“A remarkable feat getting here before me, your majesty. I’ll have to match it.”
There was a rush of air inside the Walter homestead and a flash of blue light that left in its wake one squirrel sorceress.
“Oh would you look at that, queen’s already left has she? Here I am showing off and she’s done me one better. Fancy that.”
Janice quickly grabbed up her daughter defensively at Cinera’s sudden appearance. Isabelle wiggled excitedly in her grasp. “MUM! MUM THAT WAS MAGIC, RIGHT? THAT WAS AMAZING!”
Cinera bowed gracefully toward the tiny excited child. “Always happy to put on a good show, my dear. Now, I’m really hoping Sir Wally actually lives here, or I’m going to look very silly having barged in so rudely.”
Wally sighed as he approached the scene; he took Isabelle from his mother and replaced her with a cup of fresh Nidan Tea. “Mother, Seer Cinera. Cinera, this is my mother, Janice Walter.”
Cinera bowed her head respectfully. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”
Wally’s mother struggled for a few moments, before finally drinking a sip of tea and relaxing.
Isabelle wiggled around in Wally’s arms to face him. “Wally! Wally! That was magic right? She did magic?”
“Pretty sure it was, little bouncer.” Wally set her down. “Now, go help Dale set another place at the table.”
“Ah.” Cinera interrupted. “As lovely as it would be to sit down with you all… I’m afraid we don’t have the time. In fact, less than I would’ve thought. I need to bring you back to the castle immediately.”
“Oh… Well then I… I supposed duty calls then?” Wally laughed, more to keep himself from feeling miserable for walking out on breakfast with his family. But as he looked around the room at them all, he was surprised to see no disappointment. Instead, proud and happy smiles greeted his eyes.
“Well son, you best not keep the king and queen waiting, then, eh?” said Wally’s father as he stood up from the table. He reached down to the corner of the kitchen and pulled up a pack, bringing it over to Wally. “Other reason I was up last night, packed you some essentials and clothes. You know me, ain’t happy if my hands ain’t busy.”
“Oh!” Isabelle quickly rushed to her small toy box and pulled from it a beaded bracelet made from the shells of knoka nuts. “Here Wally! It’s my favorite one, you have it. For good luck.”
It certainly wasn’t tea warming his heart at that moment as he kneeled down to receive his sister’s gift. “Thank you Isabelle.”
While she helped put it on his wrist, Wally looked over to his brother, neither said a word, but they shared a meaningful nod. He patted Isabelle on the head and took the pack from his father, attaching the Flare to it.
“Now, you be careful out there Wally, mind your mother now!” Janice said, clearly holding back tears.
“Always do, mum.” Wally hefted the pack onto his back before hugging his mother.
The family gathered together as Wally stepped outside with Cinera who were greeted by the curious and amazed eyes of what must have been the entire neighborhood. Cinera looked around and a devious smile spread across her face.
“COME ALONG NOW, SIR WALLY!” She shouted. “THE KING AND QUEEN AWAIT THE ARRIVAL OF THEIR NEWEST KNIGHT!”
Wally recoiled at both the sound and the declaration before following after Cinera. “You probably shouldn’t have done that… But thank you.”
“I probably shouldn’t do a lot of the things I do… When they become less fun, I’ll take that under advisement. Also, you’re welcome.”
Wally smiled and found himself standing a little straighter than he had all of yesterday, and perhaps, every moment of his life before then.
<[Chapter 02]–[Index]–[Chapter 04]>
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venti pt 2
honest to god, it kinda hurts that nobody really cares about me anymore. ive always tried to be the best person. i’ve tried to be there. i’ve tried to be good. people used to care about me. you know? when i was feeling down, when i was feeling out, when i felt like the only way out was death or worse, people used to care and try to help me. i don’t get that anymore. im shouting into a void. i am a void. i dont matter. i just don’t. im a nuisance. my “kindness” is unwanted and only inconveniences the people around me. it’s always been that way. i’ve always been an inconvenience. i’m a fat drain on resources, on time, on money, on food, on life. ive been trying to kill myself since I was eleven or twelve, and wanted to die since i was eight. god that’s so long. that’s so young. and it hasn’t let up, only gotten worse. im waiting for the “it gets better” everyone is talking about. when does it get better? how does it get better? how do i get better? do i get better? “never gets better always gets worse” as the Giles Corey song goes. i know i matter to my girlfriend, that’s clear, i’m not fuzzy on that. i know my two best friends care about me. kinda. but those two feel all so far away. don’t feel like they’re on the same plane im on. and i just feel like i’ll drag my gf down to my level. i think my mom would be upset if i died, and my grandpa too, but i’d ultimately be improving their lives if i did. less food feasted on, more money to spend on important things like bills, less mess to clean up. and you know, im not a very violent person. i think everyone that knows me knows that much. i hate hurting people. i like to fix problems, not make them. but when i get like this, when i hurt this much, i want to tear things apart -- mainly myself. rip, tear, cut, shred, bash, smash. it’s been a long time, almost a year, since i last majorly acted out on myself and my scars are mostly faded. the only ones you can see are a few nicks in my shin from years ago, and faded stripes on my shoulder. on some days, i can see the long ones spanning my whole shin, or the stripes on my forearm, or on my thighs, but they’re so faraway it’s rare to see them. at this point, where the visible scars are and how they look, they don’t look like self-harm and can pass for an accident, like getting scratched by a cat a year ago or scraping my leg up on a rock. so you’d think “hey don’t make it worse, don’t add any more, don’t put yourself in a place where you have to hide your legs and ankle and arm again and have an anxiety attack when your mom wakes you in the morning and you aren’t covered up enough!!” but listen. i have a strong urge to. a deep urge, deep in my gut, wrapped around my brain stem, tingling and wriggling through every muscle and nerve in my body. every time my eye catches a blade, scissors, razor, knife, even when im in a good mood, it just repeats commands “cut, slash, hurt, hurt, do it, fuck you, do it” and it’s been like that for years, and it gets louder and louder the longer i go without it. and it’s extra loud when im alone. when im sad. when im dark. when im low. i listen to music to keep it down, to calm it down, to distract it. im listening to giles corey now. “empty churches” plays while i write this line and “im going to do it” will play before i’m done writing the next one. it exaggerates my feelings, put them into a near-corporeal format, sound does, but it distracts me. im too busy crying, choking, shaking, thinking, to make the action of walking to my dresser, pulling out my knife, and making work of myself. that’s too many steps. everything else is passive. so that helps. but how long will that help? a few times a week, i’m stuck in this rut of “oooooh fuck i want to fuckign kill myself!!!” and i force myself into a ball and listen to this stuff. this album the most. one day that’s not going to work. one day, my resolve will be stronger and i’ll lose to the urge. hell, maybe that’s tonight. maybe that’s tomorrow. maybe that’s months from now. i don’t know. i can keep myself from death for a while, i think. i still give myself milestones -- don’t die until after valentines day, don’t die until you finish your commission, don’t die until you finish this semester, don’t die until your old dogs do, don’t die until after you get to move in with the gf or until after the gf inevitably breaks your heart, don’t die until you see this movie you’ve looked forward to, don’t die until you get to have shake n steak one last time. milestones help, and there’s almost always more to add when one is reached. feeling like this is exhausting. its like climbing a frozen ladder to which there is no top, but letting go is certain death, so do i keep climbing needlessly or do i wrap my arms around the bars im on and accept this as my new life??? i don’t know i dont fucking know. but i do know im too tired to keep writing. im gonna bop 3 benadryl so i can sleepyboopie and feel a lot less lost and hurt and empty in the morning. maybe i can make myself a roast beef sandwich. drink a coke. hug my dog. these sound good. maybe i can play minecraft with gf, or overwatch with best freinds. maybe ill feel better.
#stylo speaks#vent#tw sui#tw sh#thanks tho#spectral bride is playing now when i press post#i love spectral bride#its very pretty#oh man#some of the lyrics#-- i dont deserve you not even for a moment not even for a second#--will i ever be saved#--my loves out to get me and youll know it will succeed#--and i hope i survive this fucking week alone#good fucking jams#anyway#goodnight
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