#that would be the most cruel and selfish and stupid outcome

[white-collar-cannibal]

thoughts on different rgbtrio combination escape au's:

charlie + sneeg + ranboo: most stable probably. no surprise that when your support system is larger you do better. this does not mean they are normal they just are more balanced. ranboo's inclusion cuts somewhat through sneeg and charlie's relentless codependency and fucked up family dyamic. charlie + ranboo: most common escape au. probably the most possible (would require the least canon divergence to happen) but i need people to recognize the loss of sneeg in this one more. charlie's the older brother now and he doesn't know how to do it. charlie's the older brother and he has no idea how the outside world works. ranboo is fucked up but desperately emotionally clinging to the fact that they managed to get charlie out alive and trying not to think about everyone else the two of them left behind. charlie insists they have to go back and save them, but ranboo doesn't want to risk them being captured again and never making it out. charlie + sneeg: stable mostly by mutually assured destruction. i Know these two are both repressing their emotions but get soo upset when they realize the other is also doing that. both of them feel like they should have saved ranboo and failed- this + the fear of losing the other makes them spiteful over the other's attempt to save them (charlie calling sneeg selfish for trying to leave without going back for anyone, sneeg calling charlie stupid over not trying to save himself) sneeg + ranboo: don't think i've literally ever seen this one and it's a shame. even moreso than charlie+ranboo (since ranboo has less interaction with sneeg) this is an open wound of a duo. sneeg is repressing his emotions by being Useful and ranboo doesn't know how to recognize it and is too caught up in his own rock bottom mental state. ranboo wants to go back to showfall so bad but sneeg won't let them. sneeg keeps cooking ranboo's eggs how charlie liked them. ranboo solo: genuinely the most untenable. they harbor so much guilt over everyone's deaths i truly believe that the best outcome from a ranboo solo would be them returning to showfall. charlie solo: also would probably return to showfall i think. not as fast as ranboo because i think charlie feels less at fault for people's deaths, but he would realize at some point he had absolutely no idea how to interact with the outside world sneeg solo: this man is a hammerhead shark if he stops moving he will Die, and he would probably rather die than return to showfall, since he left everyone else behind and showfall was so so cruel to him personally. unsustainable but takes longer to fall apart than ranboo or charlie solo

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku's Sister CH15 and CH16

Double Upload:

Chapter 15: "She's Not Like You"

Chapter 16: The Misfortune of Being Dazai's Girlfriend"

Summary: Chuuya has experienced the absolute displeasure of knowing who Dazai is firsthand. He is cruel, and selfish in everything he does with no capacity to care. So the boy is certainly surprised when he meets the demon's sweet and seemingly opposite girlfriend. But is it all a trick, or has the demon finally grown a heart?

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old dazai, pm!sixteen year old chuuya, suicide mentions, slight violence, manipulation on both sides, odasaku death mentions, dazai being a simp and a clingy baby boy, poor chuuya is lost, confused and tormented from all angles for most of this.

(This is chapter fifteen and sixteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. I'll link the master list below so you can get the full story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Master List Here

A03 Here

Work Count: 9k total

Chapter 15:

Chuuya was about to lose his mind.

It was a statement the ginger haired boy felt so clearly, his internal thoughts running rampant with a tap of his foot and the loud noisy jumble in the back of his head, stronger by the second. 

The sanity that he had desperately clinging to so desperately slipped away the more he looked at the ticking clock in front of him, mocking his very breath. And with that loss a new stronger emotion took its place. 

Fury, he was absolutely and positively furious. 

Although to be completely fair, this emotion wasn’t new at all. In fact, Chuuya realized that perhaps his past sentence wasn’t completely accurate either, considering he had felt like he had lost his mind years ago. 

He was never this angry before the port mafia. Sure, he had a temper that was established very early on during his time with the sheep but never before had Chuuya felt this sort of raging hatred before. It coursed through his veins by the second, wanting nothing but to scream it into the air. 

And he knew exactly where these emotions started, what sparked them in the first place. 

Just thinking his name brought a sense of enraged fury. 

Dazai Osamu. 

The boy he hated more than anyone else in the entire world, a slimy and manipulative brat that could get under his skin and make him crack over and over again. No, that shitty Dazai never failed to make him stir up the absolute worst parts of him for that fuckers own entertainment. 

And ever since Mori had made them partners, he had never known a day of peace.

 Today as well, it was the same as all the others, the boy crossing his arms with a furious shout as he realized the truth of the situation. Even after he called the idiot and threatened him it seemed that his words did nothing to change the outcome he had been trying to avoid. 

That sorry sack of shit, he ditched again. 

Yeah, you read that right. The mission that Chuuya had specifically told that bastard not to flake on and guess what he did? Absolutely fucking flaked. Their assignment wasn’t even that serious either. 

They had been ordered to attend a meeting with a smaller group that was tied to the port mafia and was stepping out of the line from their usual restrictions. It was going to be an easy job, just a quick threat and yet the bandaged boy couldn’t have the audacity to show his face. 

Which led to where Chuuya was now, his feet kicking a nearby trash can as his gravity ability crushed the metal pieces into nothing in order to hear his phone immediately go to voicemail for the hundredth time. 

That bandaged wearing waste of space, he was going to destroy him the next time he saw this pathetic stupid little face. Making him look like an idiot and showing up alone. No, this time he was going to pay for real. 

No one messed with Nakahara Chuuya and got away with it. 

Grumbling to himself, the ginger haired mafioso then stomped away from their meeting spot, knowing it would do no good. It was obvious that Dazai wasn’t going to turn up, he was four hours late as it was. No, he needed to take matters into his own hands. 

So instead, the boy slipped away from the shadowy edge of the building back to the mundane bustling of the city just a couple feet away, his body blending in with the hoards of naive and frivolous civilians around him. 

There was something about the sight that made his shoulders tense though, never liking the oblivious and carefree looks on their faces. He never fit in with them, not even during his time with the sheep, and though he could try to blend in it was obvious that Chuuya didn’t mix into their world at all. 

He was a mafioso after all, a brutal gravity manipulator that only saw death and destruction while the people around him never had the misfortune of witnessing such a sight. They were pure and clean, separate from the dark cruel world of the underground.

And that’s how it needed to stay, the two sides separate, always parallel but never touching. It was safer that way, the distance kept them safe, secluded in their little bubble of self made security. He didn’t belong with the mundane and they didn’t belong with him, ever. 

Sighing heavily, the sixteen year old boy then moved past a small family in front of him only to feel his feet glue to the very spot he was standing in order for his mouth to hang open with furious shock.

No, it couldn’t be. There was no fucking way. 

Because sitting in a booth in a small restaurant across the street from their meeting spot was the very bane of his existence, the boy’s lips curved upwards in a mocking smirk from the large bay window as Chuuya felt his blood boil immediately. 

Dazai was here? And not only that, he was sitting down at some no named establishment having the time of his life while the ginger waited four hours for absolutely no reason at all?!

And the way he was seated, it was like the kid wanted Chuuya to find him, his body clearly visible from the extremely large clear glass window and from the streets as he chatted away with another stranger that was just out of view. 

That bastard, he wasn’t that stupid, he must've done this on purpose. That was the only solution. He knew that Chuuya would pass by here, that he would���ve gotten sick of waiting for him and left to find him like this. He had to, or else Dazai would’ve done a better job of hiding. 

Just the idea made him seethe in uncontrollable rage.

Oh no, he was not going to get away with this. He couldn’t just screw him over like this and rub it in his face. No, he was going to drag that sorry kid back to the meeting spot and beat him to hell for ever thinking he could fuck with him like that. 

So much so, Chuuya felt his feet move on their own, his mind focused on nothing but his own fury as he stormed across the street and into the small cafe before grabbing hold of Dazai’s wrist in order to pull him back outside. 

The bandaged menace didn’t object surprisingly, allowing the very angry ginger to pull him into the nearby alley before he felt his body get slammed against the wall. “You bastard, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! I told you that if you ditched our mission again you’d regret screwing with me.” 

Dazai wasn’t bothered though, his lips turning in fake thought before shrugging his shoulders casually. “Oh, that was today? I didn’t even realize it. Sorry Chibi, I guess you’re just too insignificant in my mind to remember anything you say.”  

His response made Chuuya see red, sensing the bullshit immediately. Sure, maybe to an ignorant stranger his words would’ve made sense but the ginger had the unfortunate displeasure of knowing this bastard for over a year now. 

And nothing he just said made any sense. “Don’t fuck with me, you know damn well it was today. Why else would you be sitting directly across the street mocking me? I know you’re game, Dazai. You picked that spot cause you knew I’d see you.” 

Dazai seemed to blink back in response at that, his lips curving up into something far more devious before dropping his previous innocent act. “Huh, maybe my stupid little mutt isn’t as stupid after all..” 

And though he was right about his game, Chuuya felt no satisfaction of winning, the boy tightening his hold on Dazai in order to throw his fist back with a screaming shout. 

There it was, that stupid dog talk again, he was goddamn sick of it. “I told you not to..!!”

Yet that’s when the bandaged boy simply raised his hands up to his chest, Dazai’s voice just as condescending as usual. “Chuuya please, not so violent in front of our guest.” 

Then all at once, Chuuya felt his hand pause, still reeling backwards in order for him to blink in confusion. What the hell was this guy talking about? It had to be another joke right? Another reason to get him to wiggle out of his wraith. 

Yet even so, the boy questioned. “Guest?” 

Dazai only nodded though, using his defensive hand to point behind his seething partner as Chuuya followed his direction in order to turn around in a huff. 

And there she was, just like Dazai had said. A strange auburn haired female staring back at him, the balls of her feet rocking back and forth in some sort of giddy excitement the moment he acknowledged her. 

 Who the hell was this, another threat? And why hadn’t he sensed her until now? Could it be that he was too wrapped up in his own furious rage that he had gotten this sloppy? 

But once his eyes adjusted, he couldn’t find any type of threat. In fact, she looked as innocent and naive as they came, the girl wearing a teal turquoise colored princess dress that fluffed out by her knees with a matching colored bow that tied her hair neatly back. 

That along with a pair of large glasses covering the entirety of her eyes. 

In fact, it was so off putting that the bright colors of her outfit contrasted the dark and gloomy alley walls when she moved, creating a dissonance between the grimy streets and soft gentle aura she displayed. 

And something about her seemed familiar, like an odd case of deja vu.  

Yet before he could question anything about her, the strange girl only gasped before racing up to him in order to take his gloved hand and shake it erratically “Hiii, I’m so excited to see you again! Oh wow, it’s like a dream come true, really.” 

Her moves were hasty, causing Chuuya’s arm to immediately go numb and pull back with guarded resolve. She didn’t seem dangerous but that didn’t mean anything. He knew better than to take her fangirl attitude at face value. 

Hold on, she said that they had met before. That was strange, the boy unable to place her face to his memory, although her attitude did seem vaguely familiar from somewhere. But where?

Taking a step back in discomfort, Chuuya raised a skeptical eye. “Uhh do I know you?” 

The girl seemed confused for a quick second before she immediately brightened back up in order to slap a hand over her face. “Oh, right! Last time we met was like a year ago so I’m sure you don’t remember me. Silly me, getting ahead of myself. I do that a lot. Oops..” 

She then began to ramble, her words far too jumbled for the poor boy to understand before the girl seemed to catch herself in a soft girlish giggle. “Where was I? Oh yeah, anyways it was great! You hit me in the face and then apologized and then stopped my nose from bleeding all over the place. I think about it all the time, how nice you were back then..” 

Chuuya felt the words sink in ever so slowly, the meaning of them bringing a strange sort of deja vu. Hitting a girl in the face..stopping her nose bleed..apologizing..now why did that sound familiar?

Hold on. 

Just then, his eyes began to widen in realization. Wait, he did remember that. This was the strange weird girl that he had met back in his apartment building, wasn’t it? No wonder why her odd behavior seemed familiar. She was just as bizarre as before. 

Seemed like nothing had changed at all from a year ago. 

Pointing a finger in accusation, Chuuya shouted back in disbelief. “You..” 

The girl, what was her name again? 

Oh yeah, Asagao. 

Asagao only clapped her hands though, unable to hold in her pure joy in her sparkling little eyes as she skipped up to him happily. “Yes, it’s me! Ah, you do remember me! That makes me so happy, Chu Chu!” 

Almost immediately, he felt his throat groan in memory. That’s right, she called him that stupid nickname before he left and wasn’t able to correct her. “It’s Chuuya, say it right, and why are you even here?” 

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why was this strange girl in front of him? It’s like she had materialized from thin air without warning, both last year and right now. She said she wasn’t port mafia but was that really true? He wasn’t sure. 

Asa’s eyes only lit up with recognition though, smiling softly in reply. “Oh, that’s easy. I’m on a date with my boyfriend.” 

At that, Chuuya felt himself pause. “Boyfriend..who..?” 

The girl only laughed though, the sound light and airy as she pointed to the spot behind him with obvious conviction. “Silly goose, he’s right behind you.” 

What the hell was she saying? There wasn’t anyone behind him except for..

Whipping his head around in question, Chuuya’s wild eyes wander around the alley only to find Dazai staring back at him wordlessly. But even so, the boy couldn’t process that reality, his head looking past the boy with confusion. 

There had to be someone else, anyone else she was referring to. 

But sadly, the rest of the alleyway was empty, leaving his heart to drop with dread and lingering concern. No, it couldn’t be. She was messing with him. There was no way. 

Feeling his brain malfunction, Chuuya then turned back to the waiting girl before shaking his head to will away the thought. “Nice try, there’s no one there expect..” 

He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the reality too horrifying and sickening for him to comprehend. This sweet innocent civilian, there was no way she was wrapped up with a sick fuck like Dazai. 

Feeling his head turn from the smiling girl and back Dazai about a dozen times, poor Chuuya desperately looked for another solution, anything then what was in front of him right now. 

But with nothing to ground himself, Chuuya couldn’t help but stutter. “H-Hold on, wait a damn second, you said you were with some guy named Osu.” 

Although that’s when he watched Asagao simply step past him in order to wrap her hands around the bandaged mafioso’s forearm before leaning into the man he hated more than anything and nodding casually. “Yeah, Dazai Osamu.” 

Then all at once, Chuuya felt his entire world explode. 

Red hot heat suddenly burst into the boy’s entire face, his head reeling and spinning with horror as the poor mafioso jumped back in a ragging shout. “W-WHAT?! There’s no fucking way, you’re kidding right? You’re not seriously his...” 

Yet before he could finish the sentence, Dazai’s slimy little bandaged arms shifted around in order to wrap them around Asa’s mid section and push her against his cheek with a mocking pout. “What’s wrong, Chuuya? Jealous I got a hold of this lovely little lady and made her my girlfriend before you could?” 

Dazai’s words didn’t help his flustered expression though, Chuuya’s mind running at a mile a minute as he tried to process the new information. “J-Jealous?! Why would I be? I just..I just don’t understand. What’s wrong with you?” 

Pointing a finger towards the girl in question, Asa only waved his concern away, laughing at the seriousness of it. “Ah, that’s a loaded question, Chu Chu. We would need all day for that.” 

She was treating all this as a joke, but Chuuya didn’t find any of it funny. What the hell was she thinking, letting someone as evil and awful as Dazai control her like this? This was worse than he thought. He had to knock some sense into her. 

Shaking his head, his finger then shifted towards Dazai. “No, I mean it. Out of everyone in the world, why would you ever pick..god I can’t even say it..I think I’m gonna be sick..” 

He only watched her bat her eyes in pure innocence though, not understanding his reaction in the slightest. “Why wouldn’t I? Samu is great. He’s sweet and kind and wonderful. He’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for!”  

Sweet, kind, wonderful? No, there was no way in hell Dazai and those words fit together in the same sentence. This was the same man that had terrorized him every single day since they forcibly became partners. This girl must’ve had a screw loose in her brain in order to think such a ridiculous statement. 

 Dazai only hummed though, obviously enjoying the distraught and disgusted look on his face in order to tighten his hold about his girlfriend’s waist and pull her even closer to him. “Aww, you flatter me, love. You’re not half bad either. In fact, I think those sweet little lips of yours are pretty great also.” 

It didn’t matter if the two weren’t involved like that, Chuuya didn’t know the difference, the boy only thinking the absolute worst from his statement as his brain began to continue to malfunction. “B-But that’s not..he’s not…” 

Luckily for him though, Asa cut off his spiral, her body detaching from Dazai’s in order to skip up to him happily. “Oh, I know! Since you’re not busy anymore why don’t you hang out with us, Chu Chu? I would love to chat and get to know you some more. That is, if you wanted to?”

That sounded like the worst idea in the entire world, the boy finally answering in a complete and coherent thought because of how ridiculous it was. “Why would I ever want to hang out with that sack of shit?”

Asagao only lifted her hands up in response though, that same idiotic grin still on her face. “Because we are celebrating my birthday, and I would love it if we could become friends. Then that would make the day even more wonderful!” 

At that, Chuuya couldn’t help but pause. “Your birthday?” 

Giving another girl-ish cute giggle under her breath, Asa then nodded her head happily before spinning around in a little circle, her skirt swishing with each word. “Yeah! Well, sort of. It’s a long story. I’m making up for lost time. Oh! But Samu got me this pretty fluffy princess dress for the occasion. Doesn't it look cute?” 

And because of her erratic movements, his eyes had no choice but to move towards the brightly colored fabric before another wave of embarrassment moved to his cheeks. What was he even supposed to say to that? Compliments weren't his thing. 

But even still he tried, noticing the hopeful look she was giving him. “Y-Yeah..I guess..” 

His flustered blush was not lost on Dazai though, the bandaged boy narrowing his eyes before reaching forward in order to pull his girl back into his arms with a huff. “Oh look, the doggie is blushing. Careful Asa-chan, don’t stand so close. Chuuya here is a pervert.” 

Feeling his voice raise immediately, the ginger haired boy willed the embarrassment away in order to cover it with an emotion he knew far too well. Anger. “W-What, I am not! She asked me! What else was I supposed to say?!” 

Dazai then shrugged his shoulders in response, his head purposely plopping on top of Asa’s left shoulder before humming absentmindedly in order to play with a loose strand of her auburn hair. “I don’t knowww, seems like an excuse to me. Sounds like something a pervert would say to deny it.” 

The executive then pushed Asa backwards by his arms, the bandaged skin wrapping tightly around her waist like Chuuya was some sort of stranger danger he needed to protect her from. 

Which was absolutely ridiculous considering the poor ginger haired boy didn’t do anything to warrant such a response. This idiot, just what was he accusing him of?! He was getting more and more pissed off by the second. 

Pushing his hands into a ball, Chuuya felt his throat strain with fury in order to shout back roughly. “Shut up, I already told you it’s not like that! Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re the one that’s always saying disgusting shit offhandedly like a dumb ass.”  

I mean seriously, why was shitty Dazai even suggesting such a thing when he constantly told Chuuya about how he was playing with women. Pinning them down, having his hands full, entertaining his time, those were just some of the sick comments he had made. 

Hold on, when he was saying all that stuff, he wasn’t talking about Asagao, right? He hoped not, she was too sweet and naive to be in that kind of situation, and for his sanity the ginger brushed the idea off. 

Dazai only pouted his lips though, a look of disbelief in his uncovered eye. “Chuuya! Are you saying that you don’t think my girlfriend is cute?” 

Although that’s when he watched Asa gasp as well, her voice turned shaky and uncertain as she turned back to Chuuya with a newly depressed tone. “W-What? You don’t think I look cute…?” 

And just like that, all the insults and saved up responses he had in his mind disappeared completely, the brutal mafioso completely at a loss for the seemingly upset civilian before him. Damn it, why did she have to look so sad? 

Not knowing how to respond, Chuuya quickly put his hands out, desperately to stop her tears and the depressed air that he had unknowingly caused. “N-No, I didn’t..that’s not what I…”

But very quickly, the boy realized that he couldn’t win. Either way, Dazai would criticize his answer, causing the ginger haired kid to quickly groan in order to pull on his hair with growing stress and anxiety.

And the cocky ass look from Dazai didn’t help as well, almost like he knew how unraveled his partner was becoming by the second. That bastard, he was making him insane.  “Ahhh just shut up!!” 

He then heard that no good bandage wearing waste of space laugh at his misery, confirming Chuuya’s theory almost instantly. He was fucking with him on purpose to gain a reaction, and he had lost yet again. Damn it. 

Yet that’s when he watched Asagao reach forward in order to plop a hand on top of Dazai’s head, his chin still firmly resting against her shoulder comfortably. “Now Samu, take it easy on Chu Chu. He hasn’t even answered my question yet.” 

Dazai then grumbled in response as Asa’s hand moved down to the death grip on her wrist in order to tap her pointer finger onto his bandages in some sort of hidden code before the boy reluctantly let go. 

Moving his fingers from his messy ginger hair, Chuuya then paused his breakdown in order to find the girl standing a few feet away from him, her hand immediately grabbing his with a small smile. “So what do you say, will you come celebrate my birthday with me?” 

Her question was absolutely insane considering the hell he had just been put through. It didn’t matter how sweet and nice this random girl was, there was no way he was going to spend the entire day with a demon like Dazai. Over his dead body. 

But how could he tell her that? She was looking at him so hopefully, even though he was sure that this Asa girl didn’t even know who he was. “Listen I don’t think..” 

Yet before he could finish, Asagao reached down in order to grab his other gloved hand, holding both of them up with a small squeeze. “Please say you’ll come! I would really love it if you were there. I just know we could be great friends!” 

But Chuuya knew the only reason she wanted him to come was because she didn’t know about his mafia lifestyle. Yes, he had asked her about the port mafia when they first met but there was no way she could know about the bloody and brutal life he lived. 

Dazai probably kept her in the dark. That was the only solution. 

Because if she did know then there was no way any sane person would ever act this way. He murdered people and she was just holding his hands like nothing.  “Now hold on, I didn’t say yes..”

Asagao only leaned closer though, Chuuya catching the vague blue of her eyes behind her glasses. “But you’re thinking about it, right?”

Her pushy nature was starting to irritate him though. Why couldn’t she just shut up and let him finish? Instead she was putting words in his mouth, making him guilty for turning her down.

Because of that, Chuuya felt a bit of his temper seep out, ripping his hands away from her hold in order to take a step back with a bitter scoff. “Cut it out, I didn’t say that either!” 

Although that’s when he watched Asagao’s face fall for a second, her shoulders slumping back down just like before in order for her to sadly chuckle under her breath. “Oh..I’m getting ahead of myself again, aren’t I? Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just this is my first birthday in Yokohama with someone to share it with and I got carried away. All the others were so lonely before, but I understand if you’re busy…” 

Widening his eyes, Chuuya then felt his heart twist inside his chest with a guilty pang. 

Ah shit, now he felt like an asshole. She sounded so sad saying that. But how was he supposed to know that she was lonely, that she didn’t have any friends or anyone to share her birthday with? Damn it. How could he possibly deny her after that? 

And even though the last thing he wanted to do was spend time with shitty Dazai, the boy knew he could manage at least an hour or so. He guessed. Anything to make the guilt in his chest go away. 

Grumbling to himself with silent defeat, Chuuya then sighed before scratching the back of his head awkwardly, his voice slightly uncomfortable. “Fine. I’ll stay, just don’t make that face.” 

Then, like a light switch, Asagao seemingly jumped back to life, almost like her past sadness was fabricated completely in order to get what she wanted. “Wait, really?! Did you hear that Osu, he’s gonna stay! Ah, this is the best day ever!” 

Feeling immediately whiplashed, Chuuya then stood dumbfounded before feeling Asagao’s giddy and frantic arms wrap around his waist in a sloppy hug before jumping up and down once, shaking the boy completely. 

Hold on, why did he feel like he just got played? 

No, that couldn’t be. He had to be imagining it. He was just spending too much time with Dazai. That’s why her actions felt off. Stupid bastard was messing with his psyche now. Just great. 

Asagao then gasped before immediately letting go, almost as if her brain seemingly remembered some other random thought. “Well, what are you waiting for, let’s get going! I got lots of stuff I wanna do.” 

Clapping her hands together, the girl then turned around sharply, her steps quick and confident before she completely missed the door to the left in order to slam her entire face into the brick wall next to her as Chuuya gasped in horror. 

Shit, that looked like it really hurt. “...are you okay?” 

Asa only stepped back before rubbing her face once though, a goofy unbothered look still on her face in order to pat the brick with understanding. “Oh, yeah! I’m great. I just thought the door was closer than that ha ha ha.” 

Suddenly Chuuya couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu, recalling their first meeting. Damn, she wasn’t kidding when she said she had shitty eyesight. 

How did she ever get anywhere like that? Weren’t those glasses supposed to help? Great, now he was even more concerned about her. 

Lifting up his hand to help her, the girl simply stepped away from it, Asa’s hand finding the doorknob in order to enter back into the cafe as Chuuya watched completely and utterly dumbfounded. That girl was something else. 

He didn’t think he’d ever met someone like her before. So strange and odd yet so gentle and kind at the same time. He didn’t know what to make of her at all. And for some reason, one interaction with her had left him completely winded and exhausted, like he had just ran a marathon. 

Now that he mentioned it, he felt like that the last time they had met also. Completely and utterly drained of all energy. 

Giving out a heavy sigh at the feeling, Chuuya then turned around back to Dazai before a wave of displeasure washed over him. He couldn’t talk about this while Asa was around but now that she was gone he wanted answers. 

This cocky son of a bitch, he had to have some sort of underhanded motive for keeping a girl like her around, and he was going to find out what. “What the hell is your game?” 

Dazai only batted his uncovered eye with fake innocence though, something that made Chuuya feel sick. “Game? I don’t know what you mean.” 

He was lying, it was obvious, which meant he was using that poor girl for something. “Don’t fuck with me. That girl, you can’t be serious, right?” 

The only thing he received though was a cocky ass smirk, the bandaged boy stepping closer with a dark gleam in the corner of his eye. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Chuuya.” 

And sure, Dazai was right in a sense. He didn’t really care about the types of women he kept around but he felt bad for Asagao, so much so that seeing a pure soul with someone like Dazai didn’t feel right. This kid would only make her cry, that was practically a guarantee. 

And call him weak or whatever but Chuuya didn’t want to see that kind of result for her. 

She was so different from them after all, it was practically obvious to tell from that one tiny interaction. Dazai and him had murdered, tortured and committed thousands of crimes. 

She didn't need to be around that. She didn’t deserve to have that light around her die like theirs had. “It becomes my business when you drag innocent civilians like her into danger just because you think it would be funny to watch.” 

And he was sure that Dazai saw this as some kind of sick game, that he was relishing in the corruption of this girl between his fingers but Chuuya didn’t agree with that ideology. The two worlds needed to be separate and this idiot was mixing what shouldn’t be mixed. 

Although something about his warning seemed to bring the boy amusement, Dazai’s lips curving up into a scoff as he whispered the words on his tongue. “Civilians like her, huh? What a dense word choice..” 

Yet before he could question it, the boy covered his comment with another, his tongue licking his lips in some sort of depraved manner. “You’re right Chibi, she is quite fun. In fact, she’s the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

Chuuya felt himself cringe in disgust at that, not warning to know what he was implying. “I mean it, shitty Dazai. Stop manipulating her. She’s not like you.” 

Once again though, Dazai only snorted, his lips carrying an ominous air to them as he chuckled under his breath to Chuuya’s dismay. What kind of reaction was that?

Taking a threatening step forward, the ginger haired boy narrowed his eyes, not understanding the joke. “What’s so damn funny about that?” 

The air was silent then, Chuuya watching as Dazai simply turned away from him in order to open the door back to the cafe with a small shake of his head. “I take back what I said, you’re still stupid.” 

At that, the boy felt himself grow livid, his head reeling with anger in frustration in order to snap back to Dazai with a shout. “W-What? What the hell does that mean?!” 

Dazai only paused in the doorway though, his hand moving towards the frame before looking back towards his idiot partner with a cocky knowing smirk, the ginger’s words playing in his ear in an amusing loop. 

She’s not like you. 

Oh how wrong poor little Chuuya was. 

And Dazai couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he realized it. 

Tilting his head to the side, Dazai then finished cryptically, a chill running up Chuuya’s spine as he unknowingly took in every single word with dread. 

“That’s for you to find out.” 

-----

Chapter 16:

Feeling even more drained than before, Chuuya took a couple more moments alone before finally deciding to enter the back door of the cafe with an anxious weighted sigh of frustration. 

He had absolutely no idea what Dazai had meant back in that alleyway but not knowing was honestly pissing him off even more. Whatever it was though, it didn’t sound good, almost like the boy was mocking his inability to see something that was in front of his face. 

But what didn’t he understand? Things looked pretty clear to him. 

And that was that this strange girl was in danger, in multiple horrifying ways. 

The first was Dazai obviously, that was the most blatant one. It was almost a guarantee in his mind that the loser didn’t care about her and was only using her for some sort of selfish purpose. 

Because that’s just how Dazai was. He was unapologetically cruel and inhumane. He did things for sheer entertainment even if the other party was desecrated in the process. 

And Chuuya knew that firsthand, considering he had the unfortunate displeasure of being on both the receiving and spectating sides. 

He comprehended the bastard so well, more than he ever wanted to in the first place, and because of that, Chuuya also knew that Dazai didn’t have the capacity to keep someone around without it having a benefit to him. 

But the question was, what was Asagao’s benefit to a demon like Dazai? What was the reason he kept her around? Was it merely for some sick kick or was it something that Chuuya wasn’t seeing? 

Because his interactions with that girl thus far had been as innocent as they came. Sure, she was weird and kind of strange but that’s about it. Dazai never bothered with civilians before so what made her so special? Or was the girl just a fly caught in a deceptive and manipulative web? He didn’t know. 

But the second reason she was in danger was possibly even worse than the first. Because if Dazai did hypothetically care about this girl, which was highly unlikely but Chuuya could play devil's advocate, then he had to know that just being out like this was putting her at risk to be hurt, kidnapped or even tortured by his enemies. 

The guy was an executive after all, Mori’s right hand man and he had made a million enemies during his time in the port mafia. He knew Dazai wasn’t an idiot so he must have known that attaching himself to such a weak and helpless girl would make her a target in an instant. 

That’s why Chuuya never tried or even toyed with the idea of dating, because he knew that any partner he gained would be in constant peril, and that was something the ginger haired boy couldn’t stomach. 

But here was Dazai, bringing his girlfriend out in public, pushing themselves in with hoards of people and letting her roam alone when he knew damn well the risk that was waiting around every corner. 

That made Chuuya’s first theory seem more plausible. He had to just be fucking around, because there was no way anyone would ever do what he was doing to a loved one. They would protect a partner, not make them balance on a line between safety and the instability of life.   

But either way, whichever it turned out to be, Chuuya was going to find out. 

Because if she really was in danger the ginger knew he had to get her out of it. Dazai would never come to her aid, he would never let her go so now it was up to him. 

Over his dead body would he ever allow a moral and pure person like her to be corrupted so brutally. No, he would stop it before that slimy bandaged prick could even try. 

Giving another full body sigh, Chuuya then turned the corner only to come out of his thoughts as he watched Asagao brighten up at his presence, her hand waving wildly from across the cafe in order to slightly bounce off her seat. “Chu Chu, over here! We got you a seat!”  

Almost immediately, a wave of disgust poured into his throat at her given nickname, the port mafia member reluctantly noticing the long empty booth in the corner as Dazai and Asagao sat together on the opposite side by the large window. 

Making his way over to her in order to slide into the empty booth with a groan, he got down to business. First things first, that name had to go. “Listen, if I’m gonna stay then you need to cut it out with that name already.” 

At first he thought she used it by accident but very quickly it was apparent that wasn’t the case. She was doing it on purpose, evading his actual name for a cute-sy replacement and he was sick of it. 

Asagao only turned her head though. “Aww really? But I think it’s cute.” 

Dazai then nodded in agreement before slinging an arm around her shoulder in order to pull her closer with a mocking reply. “Yeah Chu Chu, lighten up already. I’d say it’s growing on me too.” 

But that just made the situation even worse, the boy feeling his temper rise by the second. “Oh god, don’t you dare start. It’s not cute, it’s fucking annoying. I hate it.” 

And that seemed to be new information for Asa. “You really hate it?” 

Slamming his hands on the table, he replied. “Yes! It’s the worst nickname I’ve ever heard. Just call me by my name if you wanna talk to me, will you? It’s not that hard.” 

He then watched Asa pause for a second, seemingly taking in his words before her eyes flashed with something different, something that Chuuya couldn’t put his finger on. “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that without permission. I promise I won’t say it anymore until you agree to it.” 

Chuuya only scoffed though, firm in his beliefs. “Yeah well, like hell that’s ever gonna happen so you better get used to just using my actual name instead.” 

Asa then smiled, the corners not reaching the tips of her cheeks in order to close her eyes with some sort of unknown acceptance. “Okay, Chuuya. I understand.” 

Good, she probably realized that this was a challenge that was impossible to beat, that’s why she was giving up so easily. Well, that was easy enough. Usually he’d have to fight someone on his decision more. How strange and refreshing. 

Dazai on the other hand only pouted his lips, tapping his fingers playfully on the table. “Aww Chuuya’s such a party pooper. He doesn’t let me say any of his nicknames either. Doesn’t stop me ignoring it. I say to do it anyway. It’s funny to watch him explode, trust me.” 

Glaring in the direction of the boy, Chuuya grumbled only for Asagao to lift a hand up and touch his bandaged wrist gently. “No, it’s okay. I went overboard anyways. If I want us to be friends then I have to listen and respect his wishes.” 

Her words were so kind and mindful, causing the ginger haired boy to blink in disbelief. Damn, when was the last time someone was so careful of his requests? Did she really want to be friends with him that badly? But why, he wasn’t anyone special. 

So much so, the boy couldn’t help to voice his question, desperate to know the answer. “Hey so uhh how did you even get involved with shitty Dazai in the first place? I mean you are way better than him. Why settle?” 

The bluntness of his question didn’t shake the girl though, her fingers tracing an invisible line down Osamu’s bandaged wrist as he watched her quietly. “I don’t see it as settling at all. Osamu is the only person I value more than anyone else in the world. The connection I have to him can’t be explained in words.” 

Huh, that was strange. Her response was so personal and yet so vague, something that Chuuya couldn't comprehend in the slighest. What did that even mean? And how could she value an awful person like Dazai so wholeheartedly? There had to be something he was missing. 

But before he got the chance, Osamu gasped over dramatically in order to flop his head on her shoulder and nuzzle into her neck in order to wrap his arms around her chest in a suffocating hug. “Aww Asa-chan! You’re too precious and adorable! Hey Chuuya, isn’t my girlfriend just the best?! I don’t know how I got so lucky to be even near the presence of an angel like her!” 

Asagao only accepted her “death by hug” though, the girl smiling lovingly under the suffocation but not returning the gesture which Chuuya found odd. If she was that happy by his touch then why wasn’t she returning it? 

It was like they had some sort of unspoken rule about it or something. 

Sighing to himself, Chuuya then grumbled under his breath, the response mostly to himself then the love birds across from him. “I have no idea. If you ask me she’s too good for a suicidal bastard like you.” 

If the two heard his comment though, they didn’t acknowledge it, Asagao simply closing her eyes in order to smile softly under Osamu’s firm embrace. “Ahh, me too Osamu. I also feel lucky. In fact, today is such a wonderful day to be alive, don’t you think?” 

Pulling away just slightly, Dazai then wrinkled his nose in disgust like she had just uttered something completely outrageous. “Don’t know, it feels the same like every other pointless day to me.” 

His depressing comment only made her silently contemplate the thought though, Chuuya watching her as she shifted back from the boy in order to gaze towards the open window in some sort of understanding. 

Then after a moment, she answered, her eyes distantly not connecting to the bustling crowds just past the glass barrier around her vision. “Hmm, well I’d like to think it’s at least a little different. Feels better that way, you know?” 

Chuuya didn’t fully get her response though, sensing the dissonance between the two immediately and calling her out on it. “What does that even mean?” 

Asagao then glanced back at the ginger haired mafioso before lifting her fingers up to her glasses in order to push up the surface. “Oh uhhh I just think it’s better to think about the possibilities that the world can offer. I mean if you go in with a good attitude then even the most evil things can’t really be all that bad, right?” 

Chuuya only scoffed at her sugar coated response though, throwing it away immediately. Sure, it was a nice sentiment to be so positive about things but he had seen firsthand the depravity and horrors that the world could offer by being in the underground back alleys his entire life. 

And her thought process was naive at best, knowing it would only cause destruction in the end. “That stupid thinking is just gonna get you disappointed when you’re wrong.” 

Asagao didn’t seem shaken by his rough response, almost as if she had already expected him to say something like that. “Maybe, but someone has to believe in the impossible outcomes, otherwise none of them will ever come true.” 

Her words were surprising, a complete contrast to the dark and pointless ideology that he had heard Dazai utter time and time again. Could these two really mix well together with such opposite views? That guy only saw death while she saw the life that bloomed from possibilities around her. 

And even though she knew that it may lead to disappointment down the road, she simply didn’t care, still choosing to believe in the best path even when the cobblestone was lined with only dead ends. 

How strange, putting so much faith in an unstable and cruel world like theirs. 

Hold on, was that why she stuck by an awful boy like Dazai this long, was it because of her inability to connect the red flags and danger in her mind? Suddenly things were starting to make more sense, why she could stomach such an insufferable bastard like him. 

Wait, did Dazai know this also, was that how he was taking advantage of her? 

It had to be, because why else would a demon like that guy ever care about a creature like her, so full of life and sparks of mortality, especially when he only wished for the absolute opposite. 

Yet before he could say anything else, the waitress came over in order to drop off a tray of tiny desserts at their table in order for Asagao to audibly gasp in joy. “Ah, it’s here! Dig in, everyone! I got a sampler tray for us cause I wasn’t sure what kind of sweets you like Chuuya. I hope there is something in here that looks good to you.” 

Looking down at the brightly colored desserts, Chuuya then surveyed the options with silent conjecture. He was never really a sweets kind of guy but it seemed rude to turn down the offer, especially considering she was so thoughtful in picking something he might like. 

And on her birthday no less. She was still thinking about everyone else around her first. How sweet. 

The boy then picked out a simple strawberry fruit parfait with silent acceptance as Asagao grabbed a chocolate coated cake before Dazai took a piece from her dessert in order to shove it into his mouth with a gasp. 

Leaning over to him with anticipation, Asa replied. “Well, what do you think? Is it good?” 

Dazai then smiled to himself in order to turn towards the girl and place his fingers onto her jaw and pull her forward with a knowing hum. “I don’t know, why don’t you try it, love? Here, let me..” 

Lifting the fork up in her direction, the mafia executive then pressed his fingers further into her cheeks, causing her jaw to open and her lips to part in order for Dazai to sensually speak back. “Now open those pretty pink lips of yours for me, darling and say ahh..” 

Chuuya then watched in stunned silence as Dazai pushed the fork into her mouth, feeding the girl like some sort of baby bird as Asa happily accepted the bite. 

Just what the fuck is wrong with them? Dazai he expected but he would’ve thought the girl would’ve turned down that kind of embarrassing pda, especially when they were near that huge ass glass window leading to the street. Did they really have no shame? 

What a couple of freaks. Get a room. 

Watching her eyes practically sparkle in response, Asa immediately licked her lips from the chocolatey taste in order to speak casually like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Wow, that is good! Thanks Samu!” 

Chuuya then resisted the urge to cringe as the girl then turned her eyes over him in order to catch him staring. “Oh, sorry Chuuya. Do you want some too? It’s really good, I promise..” 

Almost immediately, the boy put his hands up, already feeling slightly embarrassed by the display he had just witnessed. “No way, especially not after you got your germs on it.” 

Dazai then smirked to himself in order to pick up the fork once and wiggle across the table in Chuuya’s face. “Aww come on Chuuya! You want me to feed you too? Come here, I’ll give you a nice big bite!!” 

Feeling himself back away in absolute disgust and horror, the boy quickly shook his head. No way was he gonna let this idiot do that. He’d probably shove that cake down his throat and make him choke to death on it. “Back off, shitty Dazai! Don’t you fucking dare!!” 

Already placing his hands on the table in a mock attack, the bandaged boy turned his head in a challenge. “What’s the matter, Chibi? You were so intent on watching us. I thought you wanted a turn.” 

Chuuya could only stutter back, denying whatever the guy was implying. “That’s only because you two are in front of my fucking face. I had no choice, you freak!” 

Shrugging his shoulders in response, Dazai replied mockingly. “I don’t know. To me it just sounds like more evidence that you’re a pervert.” 

Almost immediately, Chuuya felt his face turn red. Not this again. Dazai was making him look bad for no damn reason. Obviously it wasn’t like that. “Will you quit it with that! I said I’m not a..!!” 

Yet his enemy only cut him off, placing his hands over his lips in a makeshift microphone in order to raise his voice to the entire cafe as he sang loudly. “Hey everyone, did you hear that? Chuuya’s a pervert, Chuuya’s a big fat pervert!” 

Slamming his hands on the table, Chuuya then lifted his body fully off the seat, the red ominous glow of his ability outlining his frame as he thought of all the ways to beat the shit out of the kid in front of him. 

Anything to make him shut his goddamn mouth. “Why you..!!” 

Yet before he had the chance to do so, both Dazai and Chuuya were halted when he heard a fit of laughter next to them, the two boys turning in order to find Asagao physically holding her stomach as tears pricked the corners of her ears as she tried to breathe. 

They seemed dumbfounded at that, the kid’s silent as Asa simply wiped a stray tear away in order to put a hand up in apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m just so happy. I’ve never experienced anything this lively before. It’s so different from my other birthdays. It’s great, really..” 

She seemed genuinely happy about their bickering, like the loud and rambunctious air was music to her ears which concerned Chuuya more than anything. Who in the hell liked yelling and arguing? He was right, there was something wrong with her. 

But Dazai seemed to understand more about her sentence, the boy sliding back down in his seat in order to place a warm hand to her head in absolute silence as she tried to desperately quell her laughter.    

And although their interaction was completely wordless, even Chuuya could sense some kind of hidden meaning to it. Like they were reading each other's minds. Weird. 

But the new air was enough to make the boy slump back into his seat as well, grumbling to himself as his anger dissipated.

What could he even say to that? Sure, he still wanted to throttle the idiot but after seeing that face from her he decided to resist. 

Just barely. 

“Whatever. Just hurry up and finish so I can go home already.” 

The rest of the dessert party was relatively normal. Sure, Dazai and Chuuya still snapped at each other every five seconds but Asa didn’t seem to mind, the girl happily eating away at her cake until there was nothing left. 

And once they were done, the three kids made their way back into the streets of people only for the gingered haired boy to watch Dazai kick his foot out just as Asa approached behind him. 

Then almost immediately, the poor girl walked right into his shoe, tripping on his outstretched foot, falling forwards with a squeak only for Dazai to shift his body and grab her by the waist rather dramatically before she could fall to the ground. 

Titling her body back into an intimate bow, the sixteen year old boy then snickered to himself. “My Asa-chan. I know you said you fell for me but you have to be more careful. My darling girlfriend, whatever would I do if something happened to you?”

His smooth talk was real rich considering he had purposely kicked his foot out so that she would fall. What a shady little brat, acting like her hero when he was really making fun of her inability to see. 

Asagao didn’t seem to notice though, her voice casual. “Sorry, Samu. I’m still getting used to the streets of Yokohama. Thanks for catching me though.” 

Dazai then gasped in an over the top fashion before snapping her body back up in order to shove her to his chest in a protective hold. “Not to worry my love, I will always catch you! I mean how could I not when you’ve already fallen from heaven and into my arms!” 

Chuuya only resisted the urge to gag at his pick up lines, feeling more drained then ever before. “Right so, can I go now? I’ve stayed long enough hearing this bastard's bullshit.” 

That seemed to shatter their little personal bubble though, Asagao immediately breaking away from Osu in order to run up to the gravity manipulator with a gasp. “What, no you can’t go yet. The day’s not over yet. I still have lots of plans.”

Raising an eye, the boy frowned. “Like?” 

Asa then lifted her hands up to the sky, shouting back happily. “Like karaoke!” 

Chuuya only blinked in confusion though, the words processing on his tongue. “...karaoke?” 

She wanted two port mafia members to sing karaoke with her? Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. That would ruin his image he was trying to go for. Besides, her plans sounded rather mundane, and that was something that Chuuya was never good at in the first place. 

Yet before he could argue, Dazai had latched onto Asa’s wrist in order to drag her behind him and down the road. “Come on Chibi, it’s my darlings day, whatever she says goes!” 

Chuuya then watched the couple as his partner practically yanked the girl around the busy groups of people as the ginger chased after them with concern. 

What the hell kind of hold was that? It looked like he was trying to kidnap her. “Hold on, why are you pulling her like that?” 

Dazai then paused for a moment, his hold unmoving from her wrist in order to glance back with a sly smirk. “Cause my love is hopelessly lost without me to guide her, isn't’ that right?” 

Asagao only nodded her head in response in order for the boy to continue his rough handling as Chuuya couldn’t help but follow behind them with apprehension. How could the girl possibly be okay with this? He wasn’t even holding her hand, he was just dragging her around like a dog on a leash. 

Great, now he couldn’t leave them alone. 

Not when he was still unsure what Dazai’s plans really were. 

Yet unknown to the spiraling Chuuya, the bandaged boy and the glasses girl then secretly glanced towards each other, sharing a hidden message with their eye contact and a small unseen nod before she felt Dazai’s fingers tighten around his hold. 

And as they went, a group of shadowy figures watched dangerously from a distance as well, their gaze focusing in on the executive and the auburn haired female that was attached to his side. 

But mostly the girl. 

Nakahara Chuuya had been in a million horrifying situations. 

He had seen wars, witnessed the most brutal of deaths and tortured the worst criminals he could possibly imagine. But nothing, and I mean nothing could have prepared him for this. 

Because right now the port mafia member, the leader of the sheep, the fearsome gravity manipulator was stuck sitting on a plush sofa, listening to Dazai badly sing and dance the latest pop songs over and over again for hours on end. 

And not only that, Asagao and Osamu seemed to encourage each other every single time, the two kids having a time of their life as they took turns with the verses, clapping and cheering like they were at an actual concert. 

It was an odd sight for sure. Because although Asa wasn’t half bad at singing, Dazai purposely sang horribly, probably to get on Chuuya nerves and make him want to run into oncoming traffic. Because if that was the plan he was succeeding. 

But as ear grating and overstimulating as it was, even Chuuya couldn’t help but admit that the two of them looked good together in some kind of fucked up way. The way they danced and shouted seemed to be in a sync that the ginger couldn’t comprehend. 

Now and back at the cafe they seemed to read each other's minds without a word, able to predict their next arm gestures or kicks in order to match it in a millisecond. 

It was kind of impressive to be honest, how well they matched each other without even trying.

Finally the song ended as Asa and Osamu gave each other a giddy high five and flop onto the sofa in order for the girl to lift out the microphone to Chuuya. “Ah, that was fun! You should really try it, Chuuya. It’s very freeing!” 

The boy only shook his head though, pushing the object away. There was no way in hell he was going to sing while Dazai was here. The guy would just make fun of him for it. “Nah, I’m alright. You can take my turn since you’re so good at it.” 

Asagao then smiled before pulling the mic back to her. “You think so? I’ve been practicing for this very moment. Glad to know all the singing alone in my room paid off finally!” 

Her response was depressing as hell, causing Chuuya to raise an eye in question. She said something like that in the cafe also. What was her life even like before she met Dazai? Because the way she was speaking it seemed kind of lonely and sad. 

Yet before he could speak on it, Osamu stretched out his arms in order to throw the heavy microphone directly into Chuuya’s face. “Honestly, it’s for the better if he stays quiet. I’ve heard Chibi sing and it sounds like a cat in a dishwasher.  Trust me, Asa-chan. You’re dodging a bullet there!” 

Then the boy pointed to the door with a hum. “I’m going to extend our time, try not to miss me too much while I’m gone, love.” 

Dazai then winked in her direction before leaving Asa and the ginger alone in an awkward and uncomfortable silence. 

Not knowing what to say, Chuuya then jumped up before also moving towards the door with a rushed reply. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want anything?” 

Shaking her head in response, the boy then took in the answer before disappearing down the hallway in order to force himself to breathe from the strange new atmosphere. 

This place was so different from the places he usually frequented, littered with hoards of school kids in uniform around the same age as him. Even still, the mafioso still felt out of place in his own supposed domain. 

Perhaps if he wasn’t in the sheep or the mafia then this could feel more natural. 

Sighing to himself, Chuuya then couldn’t help but think back to the annoying and insufferable bandaged menace that he had been forced to follow around all day. He still didn’t know what to make of Asa and Dazai’s relationship but he still couldn’t help but be conflicted by it. 

Because nothing had explicitly shown him that Dazai didn’t care about her. Yes, he was still mean and cruel but there was something else about the two of them that Chuuya couldn’t place. 

The way the two looked at each other sometimes, the way they silently communicated with each other by simple and seemingly natural touches, it was something that the ginger hadn’t seen at all from Dazai in the time he’d known him. 

And it was blatantly obvious that Asagao was crazy about him but was it the same for the executive? Could it really be? Did Dazai actually have the capacity to care about someone else other than himself? 

Had he been wrong this entire time? You know, perhaps he judged the guy too quickly. Sure, he wasn’t a good person but perhaps he wasn’t all evil. Maybe, just maybe there was hope somewhere deep inside that pitch black heart of his. 

Turning the corner to get to the vending machine, Chuuya then froze as he saw a very familiar black jacket and bandaged arms appeared in his vision just a couple feet away. 

And just like that, every single bit of hope, every nice thing he had said in his mind about his partner flew out the window in an instant. 

Because standing a couple feet away was that very same boy, grabbing onto some random ladies' hands lovingly while flirting with her openly in front of the entire building as he swooned.“I have to ask. Would a beautiful lady such as yourself be interested in a double suicide with me?” 

And hearing his words, Chuuya only saw red.

 That bastard, that two timing, cheating little rat! His lovesick girlfriend was just steps away and he was just betraying her so easily, on her birthday nonetheless!! God, what a selfish horrible, ugly little prick. He wanted to beat his face in. 

How could he do that to her? Didn’t he hear what she said about him, about how she thought that Dazai was the most important thing to her? He really had no problem crushing her dreams like that. 

Although that’s when he heard a small female voice behind him, poking his shoulder once. “Umm Chuuya? Are you okay? You took a while so I got worried.” 

Feeling his face grow pale, Chuuya then immediately turned around before catching the concerned look in Asagao’s face. No, this was bad. She couldn’t see this. It would crush her, it would hurt her beyond reason, and on her birthday. 

No, he couldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t give Dazai the satisfaction. 

Quickly reaching his hand forward, Chuuya then latched onto her eyes in order to push her backwards and away from the horrible disgusting sight. “Follow me, this way…” 

He didn’t let go until the two were fully outside of the building, his hand moving away in order to immediately shut down the danger as quickly as possible. “Listen, you need to break up with Dazai. Trust me, it’s for your own good.” 

At that, Asa softened, almost like she already knew where this conversation was heading. “Chuuya..” 

Chuuya shook his head almost instantly though. “Look, I know you wanna believe that he’s a good guy or whatever but that’s just not the case. He isn’t this sweet boyfriend you’ve hoping for. He’s a monster, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and dating you is definitely some sort of sick joke to him. I just know it.” 

Once again, the girl was only unbothered. “Thank you for being worried about me, but Osamu’s not as bad as you think he is.”

Not as bad?! No, she was right, he was worse. Dazai was the worst person he had ever had the displeasure of meeting and Chuuya was desperate to get his slimy little fingers off of her as quickly as possible. Just because he had to deal with him didn’t mean she did as well. 

So much so, the control he had slowly started to slip away in order to make her understand the severity. “No, you don’t get it! That bastard is in there cheating on you right now, flirting with some chick with absolutely no shame! He’s disgusting.” 

Ah shit, he didn’t mean to spill that to her right now. But what could he do, he was just so pissed about her inability to see what was really wrong here. Yes, maybe she’d cry but at least she’d understand. 

She was silent then, causing Chuuya to hastily continue. “The truth is, you don’t know anything about him. He’s been playing with you this whole damn time! How much did he tell you about being in the port mafia? Has he told you he’s murdered and tortured thousands of people? Has he said anything about the disturbing crimes and disgusting shit I’ve seen him do for the last year? Face it, Asagao. He doesn’t care, he never did.” 

Grabbing hold of her shoulders in order to shake some sense into her, the boy finished plainly. “Look, I can get you out of here. I can help you leave him if he won’t let you but you need to do it now. By attaching yourself to him you’ve already put yourself in danger. People are going to see you as a target and I’m damn sure that Dazai won’t come save you either. Do you hear me, you’re going to die if you stay here..” 

And he was prepared to ditch this place in a heartbeat in order to make sure such a kind and pure soul was safe from the clutches of the demon. 

Perhaps Dazai didn’t have a heart but he did and the last thing he was going to do was allow the light in her to die just because that mackerel didn’t care enough to protect it. 

Yet before he could speak again, Chuuya’s entire body began to tense as he felt a threatening presence join them in the alleyway, causing the boy to immediately shove his arms into Asagao in order to push her behind him with a glare. Who the fuck..?

A group of individuals seemingly appeared out of nowhere then, one to the men clapping sarcastically at the scene before him. “Well well well, what do we have here? I thought we had a meeting today but here you seem to be having a grand old time after standing us up.” 

Chuuya recognized the men immediately, a groan sounding in the back of his throat. Ah shit, these were the guys that Dazai and him were supposed to threaten for stepping out of line and going against the port mafia’s orders. Looks like they got tired of waiting just like him.

And though he could understand their annoyance, the fact that Asagao was here with him made this situation a million times worse. This is what he was trying to avoid and now the lines between his world and hers were crossing into each other. 

Keeping his stance strained, the mafioso then shoved his hands into his pockets before giving the men around them a warning look. “The meeting got pushed back. My shitty partner decided to go MIA and I was just about to drag him back.” 

Although that’s when the man in the middle of the group started to laugh, his lips turning up into a twisted toothy grin in order to lift his hand out to his men for something. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, plans have changed.” 

Reaching behind him, the random thug then pulled out a very familiar black jacket, the fabric crumbled and messy as a deep set of crimson blood dripped from the ends. 

Oh fuck, this was bad. These guys didn’t want a meeting, did he? They wanted an ambush, to fully break free of the mafia’s chains.

And now they had Dazai as leverage to do it. 

Chuuya was then taken out his thoughts as Asagao shouted in pure fear, her voice shaky and uncertain, a flash of red auburn ran past his vision in order to reach the jacket. “O-Osamu?!” 

Feeling his throat stain with terror, the ginger quickly lifted his hand out to stop her only to hit air, almost like she was never there in the first place before blinking and finding her a couple inches from the fabric. 

Damn it, what the fuck was she doing?! “Hey wait, don’t..!!” 

It was too late though, one of the men activating their ability in an instant as red sharp strings sprung from his fingertips in order to latch onto Asagao’s neck and pull her backwards into enemy arms. 

The sharp skill instantly choked her, causing the girl to gasp out in fear only for her captives to twist her arms behind her back painfully with a sick hum. “Mmm and what do we have here?” 

Chuuya was livid though, his body already glowing with his gravity manipulation ability and absolute rage. “Bastard! Let her go, she’s not a part of this!” 

The man only laughed though, tightening the strings on her throat as Asa let out another suffocating gasp before tapping her cheek once. “I beg to differ, Nakahara. We’ve been watching this one very closely. Who would’ve thought we would get to meet the demon prodigy’s precious little girlfriend? I think we’ll keep her too just to make him squirm.” 

Analyzing the situation with a pounding heartbeat, Chuuya glanced at the men around him before cursing silently. From the way they were positioned any move could cause the ability around Asa’s neck to snap her head off completely. He was stuck. 

Grasping for anything he could, the boy glared back. “Nice try but Dazai doesn’t care about her like that. Taking her won’t give you any damn leverage.”

And he hoped that would be enough to let her go, to lessen her value to these dangerous men, but sadly he only received the opposite. “Oh, I don’t know about that. We witnessed firsthand how the executive treats her. The overly touching, feeding each other deserts in plain sight, saying that he doesn’t know what he would do without her, we’ve seen it all.” 

Feeling his eyes widen, Chuuya then felt his hands turn practically white from his grip. Fuck, this is what he was trying to tell that bastard since the beginning. He was practically throwing himself on her in public all day and now Asagao was a target because of his reckless behavior. 

Why wasn’t he more careful, why didn’t he realize this was going to be the result? Or did he truly just not care about Asagao at all? How evil, leaving her to defend herself like this for attacks when she couldn’t handle it. 

What a misfortune it was, being labeled as the misfortune of being Dazai’s girlfriend. What a death wish it truly brought to such a poor innocent girl in an instant.  

He was so angry. No, he was absolutely furious for her that he felt his gravity ability glow even brighter only for the man to quickly close his fingers as Asa suffocated even faster. “Now, let’s not be so hasty. We have the executive and the girl. So it would be beneficial if you just went along with our requests instead of that? Otherwise who knows what could happen to her?” 

Snapping his fingers, one of the guys then pulled out a pair of handcuffs before throwing them on the floor by Chuuya’s feet as the boy looked at the metal with disgust. 

They wanted him to put on these ability suppressors and follow them to god knows where?  You’ve got to be kidding me. There was no way in hell he was going to do that. 

 But if he didn’t then that meant that Asagao would be taken to Dazai and inevitably killed when that mackerel expressed his indifference to her. 

Damn it, he really had no choice, did he? 

Looking back up to the girl in question, her scared expression then locked onto his in order for small tears to prick the corners of her eyes. “C-Chuuya..” 

And just like that, Chuuya immediately reached down in order to quickly latch the ability suppression cuffs on his wrist, disabling his desire to fight back as the men around him laughed at the defenseless boy. “Good choice.” 

Then before he could answer, the red strings disappeared around Asa’s throat leaving her to collapse unconsciously onto the cold ground as Chuuya felt a painful knock in the back of his head at the same time, meeting her straight onto the ground. 

Before he blacked out completely, the boy cursed Dazai’s name, reaching his hand out towards the unmoving auburn haired girl in question with a silent promise. 

Damn it, I’ll get you out of here, I promise.

----

(This is a fourth part mini arc that will all connect together. These are the first two parts and I'll post the second two together as well. Thanks for reading!)

[soul-wanderer]

The main reason why the end of season 2 of Cruel Summer left me so unsatisfied, especially in comparison to season 1, is their choice of the main villain of each season, or more explicitly: their motivation for becoming the villains of these stories.

This series is centered around teenagers who clearly all make some very bad decisions at so many turns. And they're supposed to do that, because well, they're teenagers.

And Jeanette did just that. Was it evil? Sure! Her leaving Kate in that basement was, without a doubt, a horrible decision. But (not in an excusing way), she is very much a teenager who so desperately wanted to fit in and be popular, that she disregarded/accepted the consequences of not unlocking the basement door. It doesn't quite go as far as eliciting empathy for her situation, but in the end it can at least partially be chalked up to "underdeveloped teen brain makes a terribly horrible decision for their own benefit", because oftentimes bad teenage decisions can lead to even worse outcomes.

Isabella on the other hand? She has a history of being some kind of evil for her own benefit. She doesn't strike you as the kind of person who couldn't be popular or well liked or have friends without being manipulative.

But most importantly: Isabella didn't just leave Luke to die. Which, yeah, would have been bad enough. Just like Jeanette leaving Kate behind was bad - though I am sure she did not actively want Kate to die, she just wanted her gone and there's a difference in that.

No, Isabella didn't see Luke and turned around and left - she actively decided to kill him. That's not neglect. That's not ignorance of consequences. It's doing something that she knew would result in death. And for what? We were made to believe she wanted Megan to herself, but then we see her leaving anyway. So, not only did she kill someone, she also did it for reasons that lie far beyond any of the reasons we've been given throughout the season.

The closest we come to an explanation is the assumption that she has a anti-social personality disorder, and that's frustrating. Not because I don't enjoy plots like that (I really do. Hence my adoration for the movie Orphan), but simply because that's NOT what this series is about. It's about teenagers being stupid. It's about teenagers making horrible decisions. It's this unique moral ambiguity that comes with the territory of growing up. Play out these stories with adults and you have a bunch of criminals, because there's no lenience, no "maybe they didn't know it any better", no "well, maybe they were just being selfish and reckless". But the finale effectively erased that possibility. Isabella knew, she knew and she did it anyway and she burst this bubble this show has previously created for all those characters who were figuring growing up.

Jeanette Turner was a selfish teen who didn't care to contemplate the consequences of her decisions.

Isabella LaRue was a ruthless sociopath who kills people for the sake of killing them, not because she was ever in a position where accepting or causing the death of someone was deemed necessary from her point of view and that makes all the difference between these two storylines.

[thranduel]

reminder that will byers is the only reason mike could say the words “i love you”. this is canon and nothing will change that. he could only say it because of will.

will gave mike strength. will made mike feel like he was worth something. will listened to mike express his struggles and insecurities when no one else would. will chose to sacrifice his own feelings just to help mike because that’s how much he loves him. will made mike feel more confident about himself. will made mike feel more loved than anything.

will gave mike the painting he worked so hard on and basically told him “there’s nothing wrong with being a nerd. you talk down on yourself and think that you’re lame and worthless compared to el just because she has powers, but you’re not. you’re the furthest thing from that. and yes, you’re a nerd. but that nerd is the boy that i fell in love with. that nerd is the boy that has made me feel safe my entire life. that nerd is the boy i immediately related to when he walked up to me all alone at the swingset on the first day of kindergarten. that nerd is the boy that has never made me feel like a mistake; like i’m better for being different. that nerd is the boy that holds our party together. that nerd is the boy that understands me better than anyone else. that nerd is the boy that changed my life in the best way possible. and look, here’s a painting of us; our nerdy party, from our nerdy game that we play. i don’t know about you, but i think that being a nerd is the best. and here you are, my knight in shining armour with a heart on your shield, because that’s exactly what you are to me. i’ve always loved you for exactly who you are. not because of societal pressure. not because you’ve done things for me. not because i feel like i owe you something because you saved me. but just simply because you’re YOU. you mean the world to me. i would never walk away from you or leave you behind. i’ll always be by your side and i hope that you’ll always be by my side too, because i will always need you. i love you more than anything.”

all it took was one painting and a beautiful monologue for will byers to make mike wheeler feel more loved than he’s ever felt in his entire life. and although what i wrote above wasn’t what he said exactly, it was everything he was thinking. because will has always loved mike for who he is. it doesn’t matter that he’s a nerd. will is a nerd too! they went through the same struggles growing up and they’ve always shared the same interests. that’s why there’s so much understanding. that’s why they feel safe with each other and why they can actually be themselves without being fake. but it’s heartbreaking that mike doesn’t realise will was talking about his own feelings in the van because THAT is what gave him strength and made him say “i love you”. seriously, no one else has ever made mike feel loved the way that will did in that scene, and that’s exactly why they can’t leave this storyline unresolved. mike’s current relationship is unhealthy, there’s so much miscommunication and misunderstanding and he only said “i love you” because of a lie and because he was forced and pressured into it. he feels inferior and insecure (and so does el) and they don’t feel like equals. it’s not good for either of them. also, will can’t suffer anymore after everything he’s been through.

anyone who can’t see that mike and will have the closest, strongest and most genuine relationship on the entire show clearly isn’t paying attention or simply don’t want to admit it. it’s always been THEM. they were each other’s FIRST friend. they are each other’s safe place. the show started with them. most of the other characters wouldn’t have even met if it weren’t for them. mike’s current relationship would’ve been over if it weren’t for will giving him strength and making him feel loved. they need each other. they understand each other better than anyone else. their relationship has always been different to everyone else’s. mike and will are the heart of this show. they belong together and they deserve to be happy after everything they’ve been through.

[mxvladdy]

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.    

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own.  Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.  

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.  

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.  

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.  

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

[razorblade180]

Shackles 9: I’m sorry

[Warning: Blood and Extreme harm] [part 8]

“Let her go!” The cries of a young boy echoed, struggling against his captors as he and his sister were dragged through sickening white halls. All attempts to reach out for her failed as he watched Jasmine get tossed into a room. Sobek continued walking his way however, guiding the men to a separate correctional room. Rajah did his best to struggle but his weak body was thrown harshly into a cold metal chair; the exit door shut tightly with him and Sobek inside. Rajah didn’t even have a chance to move before the feel of mangled fingers pressed against his neck as he was strapped down.

“I told you to keep her under control. Now look at what you’re making me do? Should’ve known better. A beast can’t control another beast.”

“Don’t…hurt her.” He gasped. Sobek finally released his hold. Rajah gasped and coughed for air while the man walked away to a tray of various tools. The light in the room went out except for the wall in front of him, which acted like a screen.

“ Oh I’m not going to hurt her. Not physically with my hands anyways. The guards she hurt might have a thing to say to her but we both know that’ll solve nothing.” Sobek drew up a syringe. “You and I, however, we’re gonna fix you right up and then see how sister dearest acts. Hopefully she’ll become more agreeable. If not…well, it’s a big siblings job to look after the little one.”

Rajah began to panic. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake his restraints as the scientist approached, injecting him in the neck.

“Let’s make you a model big brother…”

xxxx

Across the world, helping hands were reaching out. Blake ran across rooftops to the port in a desperate attempt to get on a leaving ship before it was too late. Out of practice, she took a misstep and nearly lost her balance. Fortunately friends followed closely behind her. Blake felt two hands rebalance her as she continued forward. “Thank you.”

Ilia nodded, “Don’t mention it.”

Blake looked left. Yang didn’t say anything. All she gave was a small nod. It wasn’t much but it made Blake happy. “I’ll make it up to both of you later.”

“Oh that’s a given. Let’s focus on what’s important right now. That ship is already leaving port and that Jacquelyn lady already has a head start. Missing this ship could be bad.”

“So we won’t miss it.” Yang said with conviction. Her gauntlets propelled herself forward and launched herself in the air ahead of others. Yang turned around midair and reached out. “Well!?”

She didn’t even have to say it. Blake grabbed Ilia’s hand then threw Gamble Shroud. Yang grabbed the gun and yanked them so hard they flew by her. Still holding on, Yang felt Blake pull her. She timed a shotgun blast with the tension of the pull to soar ahead as far as possible; yanking both girls again. This rendition of their favorite move cut out a lot of time. It only took a few minutes before all three reached the point of free falling over the boat. Yang lets go of the gun so Blake can anchor to the boat. Ilia took the first opportunity to escape that jarring movement she got, running down the taut ribbon to the ship and pulling it to bring Blake down from air.

Yang realized she might be in a bit of a situation and so did Blake. Tucking and rolling might be pushing her luck when it comes to movement options while she’s expecting. “Uhh Blake?”

“I got you.” Blake didn’t want to jossle her anymore than necessary. She jumped up and caught Yang safely before the blonde could fall any faster. “You okay?”

“Put me down the moment we land!”

Blake didn’t bother arguing. She let go as soon as she touched the floor and watched Yang speed over to the side of the boat to lean over. Thankfully Yang held back whatever tried to come up and everyone was spared the sounds of her puking.

“Yang?”

“Jaune was right. Motion sickness is a big deal. Ugh…”

“Don’t you mean, Vomit Boy?”

“I’ll never call him that again. Too cruel.” Yang walked back over to Ilia and Blake to sit against a wall. “Please tell me this was the right boat? I don’t wanna do that again.”

“Of course it is. It’s the one always going back and forth to Vacou. Sun and I might as well live on this ship.” Ilia pulled out her scroll. “We’ll see port a little after daybreak, so we should all rest and be prepared. I’m going to speak to the captain so nobody thinks we’re a bunch of stowaways.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” A voice called from the front of the boat. The trio looked and gasped to see Jacquelyn walking towards them. “Gunshots aren’t the quietest thing in the world. Also one of you literally lights up, so there’s that. I thought you would’ve tagged out by now.

“And I thought you would’ve been long gone by now.”

Jacquelyn rested on the railings to watch the waves. “If it were up to me I’d be there already, but I don’t control boat schedules now do I? Good thing. Not entirely sure what I’m walking into. So yeah, thanks.” Jacquelyn turned to Ilia. “Hey. You’re the chameleon right? Ilia, was it?”

Eyes widened instantly. “Adam spoke of me?”

“When it was relevant, but yeah. Said that you’re pretty capable at what you do. Glad you’re tagging along.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have lots of questions and I have a feeling the answers are with you.” Ilia crossed her arms. Being out of the loop was a pain in the ass she couldn’t stand.

“As much as I love stories, now isn’t the best time. However…” her attention turned to Blake. “I think the two of us might need one. A brief, but important one. Alone.”

Blake looked around. “It will just be a moment you two.”

“Sigh…fine.”

“Take your time.” Yang added.

Jacquelyn took Blake by the hand to lead her to the front. “I could tell from a glance that you’re troubled. Spit it out.”

“…I’ve learned about what we’re dealing with. Ilia told me what we might face and why. Back in the desert I told you my beliefs run to my core.”

“Don’t tell me that’s changed?”

“I’m telling you sorry. Apparently my efforts as High Leader haven't even scratched the surface. I thought things were progressing steadily but we’re heading to a place that’s about to prove everything is still the same. Spite is alive and thriving.”

“Hehe, and? We both know you were aware of that. So why don’t you come out and just ask-”

“How?” Blake said, balling her fist. “If what you claim is true, then how do you do it? How are you changing someone who’s that spiteful when I can’t reach people like him at all? I’m not sure if I’m reaching anyone right now. I feel…”

“Stupid? You’re not. Naive? I’d say more optimistic.” Jacquelyn put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Impatience, that’s what’s got you. Don’t look at me for guidelines because frankly I’m selfish and never bothered looking at the bigger picture when it comes to humanity. You’re different. You know what path you want to take but hesitate to get pushy with it, compromising without realizing it. A flexible leader is good but if you are certain about the way you want things then Blake Belladonna, don’t you dare compromise.”

Blake felt Jacquelyn’s grip tighten. The woman’s eyes went cold and Blake knew her next words would be the most important.

“We’re heading to a place that can only be hell. Blake, you’ll find the real answer to all your questions soon enough. Don’t run from it.”

The meaning to those words reached her, yet Blake knew she’d only truly grasp it in the moment. “Understood.”

“Good. I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I should probably rest but I’m sure it’s in my best interest to give your friend at least a little bit of info.”

“I can handle that.”

“No, worry about Yang instead. I want all of us at least a little bit at peace.” Ilia walked back over to the other two. “Changed my mind. Story time, squirt.” She took Ilia’s hand.

“Hey!”

“Don���t fight it. I’m too tired for resistance. Yang?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Uhh thanks, I guess.”

Yang watched them leave and Blake came back seconds later to sit next to her. The two sat quietly, the sound of waves crashing on one another. “I won’t pretend I’m suddenly okay with all of this. But…I want us to be okay. So I’ll put in the leg work.”

“Heh. Yang, you’re always okay with me. Leg work or not, following me is your choice. Don’t think you owe me anything.”

“Stop being a dummy. I swear you’ve always been like this. How many people gotta say it? You don’t choose what your friends do.”

“Then you should choose to be okay with me.”

Blake looked at Yang’s unblinking face with a smile. Deep down, the bruiser's heart felt as if a weight was lifted. A sense of overwhelming joy couldn’t be contained. “So, we’re okay then.” Yang lifted her fist. “Partners forever.”

Blake bumped her fist. “Forever.”

Frayed bonds may be fragile, but as long as strings remain linked, mending was an outcome. Blake and Yang were living proof, and with a little luck…so would Adam. Life wasn’t always a fairytale unfortunately. One bond may have strengthened tonight, but it wasn’t the only one being tested. There was another, fraying from unseen eyes; until it snapped.

xxxxx

Hours passed underground. Jasmine couldn’t tell when the beatings stopped or started anymore. Every single nerve had been screaming, her ears ringing. The sensitivity drug she had been injected with during her first round of correction never wore off, so the second dose they gave only fueled the anguish. The lights of the labs have prevented her from seeing. Not that she wanted to look at anyone or herself for that matter. All she could tell was she was moving. What was bright became dark rhythmically. Jasmine’s vision, as blurry as it was, made fuzzy images that could only be people. One blob was raised higher than the rest. Had to be Adam. Strange, it wasn’t moving like the rest. It didn’t move at all. However, Jasmine could faintly make out yelling. “Get up!” She didn’t know if it was for her but it chilled her all the same. Loud creaking accompanied moments after. Jasmine suddenly felt weightless until a pulse of pain shot through her back; followed by more creaking and a loud metal thunk.

Jasmine did her best to move. It took time, a lot of it, but she eventually got to her knees. The lack of light helped her vision sort itself out; as well as slightly dwindled her senses. Enough to think without too much pain. “Why hurt me just throw me behind bars?” An attempt to stand only led back to her face deep in dirt. “O...ow”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tired.”

Jasmine’s body stiffened. She turned her head towards the inside of the cell with all her strength. Deep in the shadows reeked blood, but beyond that… “Rajah? Rajah is that you?” There was no mistaking that scent. “Rajah! You’re here. I’m so hap-h..happ…” her heart nearly stopped. Every fiber of her felt cold. Jasmine’s very soul trembled while her eyes remained fixed on Rajah as he got closer. His eyes looked glassed over. And his ears…they weren’t on his head, but mangled tightly in his fist.

“Need help? I can sit you up.” He approached closer.

“Ra..Ra…”

“What’s wrong? Throat dry? Oh…this?” He dropped his ears on the floor, ignoring them and the fresh blood that still leaked down his face and soaked his hair. “No big deal.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Not as much as you. Honestly I feel a lot better. Hehe, weird right?” He smiled, chuckling ever so slightly. “He won’t hurt me anymore. Sobek won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

She wanted to run. Jasmine didn’t know where but she wanted to run as fast as possible, but all her legs did was shake as Rajah kept getting closer with his smile on full display. Tears welled up, her ears folding down. “Pl..Stop it.” What did Sobek do to her brother? “Rajah you’re scaring me. You’re- ah!” His hands reached her throat faster than she could blink. Jasmine gasped as her brother pinned her onto her back and began to squeeze. His vacant eyes stared deep into her own terror filled and weeping ones, kicking frantically underneath him the whole time.

“Aww it’s okay. Sobek’s not gonna hurt us anymore! You see I figured it out! The pain stops when there’s nothing to look at. Hahaha! Sobek wasn’t mad at me. Just my ears! Once I ripped them,he wasn’t angry anymore Jasmine! He said he’d never be angry at me again.” Though vacant and laughing, Rajah’s own tears started falling. “He finally stopped hurting me…! And when you stop kicking, you won’t hurt me either. You’ll wake up like me and be left alone, so listen to your big brother okay? Okay!?” Clenched teeth gritted against one another, drooling with spit and blood. Rajah wasn’t smiling anymore. “Why couldn’t you listen to me?” His bloodied hands dug in.

Jasmine’s nails broke the skin of his wrists. Her lungs burned and vision became blurry again, but she could hear him perfectly. The laughter, the ragged breathing as hearts raced. Her head spun but all her mind could think of was his words. Why didn’t she listen? The thought turned into wondering why this happened? The beatings, torture, seclusion; it wasn’t his fault. Rajah didn’t deserve this. It was all her. Why couldn’t it just be her? The caring eyes she loved, they weren’t staring back. Only her reflection looked back, and Jasmine couldn’t stomach the sight. Narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, Jasmine shut her eyes and let a guttural noise of pain and immense rage while the world as she knew it faded into dark.

“I’m sorry…”

[dylan-o-yumm]

Parting Ways - (Vergil x Reader)

A/N: This is technically for my OC, Dylan, but I made it a reader insert so all you lovely people could enjoy it for yourselves. I’m also drawing Dylan atm so if you wanna see some of that action… let me know? Also just FYI, I tried to make this gender neutral but knowing me I didn’t edit properly so there could be hints of male reader in here.

Word count: 1.6k

Black ash and flaking wallpaper peel off the already charcoal coloured walls. Whether it was your mind playing tricks on you or not, you swore you could smell the fire still burning, flames tickling your nose, slipping down your throat, choking on smoke. The sight alone was enough to make your mind fill in the gaps, imagining what it must have looked like before… 

It was eerily quiet, no crickets chirping, nor an owl hooting into the night. It should have been a disturbing thought… being alone, completely and utterly alone. No one to hear or witness what about to happen on this night… on this hill, in this burned and broken house. However, it was comforting in a way, lifted a weight off your chest. Nothing would be able to stop him now. 

Leaves crunched under your boots, contrasting the second they entered through the threshold of the damaged house. The clunking of boots against wooden floorboards quickly replaced the crushing of dry leaves as you walked… followed by a struggling, stubborn, broken man, wheezing and gasping for breath like an old man who just climbed a flight of stairs. “You sure you wanna do this?” You question. “Surely you are not stupid enough to ask me that again.” 

You huff and roll your eyes, stuffing your hands into your jeans pockets to keep them warm as you finally come to a stop. Refusing to look at the shattered, struggling man, you look up. 

Gold edges border a portrait. Black scorch marks from the fire that happened an unknown amount of years ago, damage the painting, blocking bits and pieces from your view. A family of four stare back at you… A man sitting in a chair with a blonde woman standing behind him, though her face was covered by ash and soot… And two young boys with light, silver hair… They looked quite similar, twins maybe? However, the way they held themselves made them look like complete opposites. 

Was one of them Vergil?

Speaking of… he hadn’t told you a thing of his past. You never bothered to ask either. It didn’t take a genius to know he wouldn’t open up to you. Maybe if you had gotten to know him a little better, he would have broken down at least one of his many walls he keeps up, offered you some insight into his mind, his past, his private life… 

However, you were just as stubborn as him. Why should he get to know anything about your past when he didn’t bother to share a lick of his own? Though, knowing him for what felt like a year, but in reality was a few more years than that… you did share a few little parts of your life. Accidentally of course, and you never went too in detail. It was just more than he had cared to tell you, that’s for sure. 

The long, drawn-out whistle of a blade being unsheathed pulls your attention back to the man beside you. The moonlight peering in through the broken door bounce off the clean, sharp metal of the Yamato, further illuminating the dark, charred foyer. 

“Leave now. I no longer need you.” 

He always did that. Spoke as if he were so high and mighty that he could say anything he wanted. Not that you cared, it was oddly refreshing. You liked how blunt and cruel he could be, how unforgiving and confident he was. Maybe because you had similar traits…

One of you— either of you, had to crack and open up first. You just hoped it would have been him. Too bad this was a goodbye. So many lost opportunities. 

“Oh, so you did need me.” You respond blankly, your eyes faintly giving away that you were only teasing — which Vergil caught, but anyone else would have thought you were pissed off. Admittedly you were, but you weren’t going to tell Vergil that — if he didn’t already know. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he could get under your skin so easily.

It doesn’t matter, for he doesn’t bother answering, not that he needs too. Not even the shadows on his face can hide the annoyance in his eyes. Which is why you looked away, burning under his stone cold gaze as you averted your eyes back to the portrait. 

“I suggest you leave now, or you can serve under me for the rest of your worthless life.” You blinked, having not expected him to speak again. You had no idea how his somewhat-nasally voice could sound so threatening and intimidating, not that you were intimidated by any means. Though when you first met him it was a different story. 

You look back to him, biting the inside of your cheek when you realise he never once took his cold eyes off of you. The hood of his old, brown coat hid most of his face, the only indication that he was even looking at you was the moonlight catching on his blue, almost silver, iris’s as his head tilted in you direction ever so slightly. 

You didn’t want to leave. You were surprised he even let you come this far. While the two of you spend most of your time together in silence, it was undeniable that some kind of bond had formed. Just the fact that Vergil got your ass out of Hell with him, let you tag along this whole time, even let you step into the odd teleportation void he summoned with the Yamato after ripping that kids arm off… Yet here you were. Still at his side… Sadly this is where you part ways.

All you (and you assumed Vergil) knew, was that the Yamato could be used to separate man from devil. And that’s what Vergil was preparing to do. His human side was far too weak, causing him to crumble apart right in front of you. His skin was flaking and cracked. The only thing you feared was that a gust of wind would come along and turn him to dust.

He’s weak, he’s breaking, he’s dying… he needs to do this. “Alright. I’m going.” You sigh heavily, bringing a hand up and running it through your hair, a little hesitant to actually do as you say. You give him one last, lingering gaze, trying to spot any hesitation on his face, any sign of him maybe wanting you to stay, anything that might give away his composure and reputation to remain vigilant. However, he was just as hard to read as always.

Finally spinning on your heel and turning your back to him, your feet carry you to the front of the house, boots softly tapping against the wooden flooring with your light footfalls. With each step, it dawns on you that you will most likely never see him again, not in person anyway. You expect to maybe see him on the news within a couple hours. Though he probably wont look the same. 

You should be thankful to finally part ways with him. He’s a complete ass. A cold, stubborn, power-hungry, dick bag. Why would you want to stay with him any longer than you have too? Because he saved your life? Maybe… You cuss yourself for stopping. Just a few more steps and you’d never have to see him again. However, your feet stuck to the floor as if they were covered in glue. 

“Hey, Vergil…?” You bow your head as you speak, resting your hand against the doorframe, soot and ash staining your skin. You look over your shoulder. One corner of your lips tug upward slightly, head tilting to the side… you wait until his eyes slowly scan over the room before they fall on you. Piercing right into your very soul, it feels. So blue, almost a crystal-like silver. 

He’d at least be proud to know his eyes were intimidating. 

“Give me a five minute head start.” You all but wink, staying still a moment longer to watch for his reaction. 

Everything about you would indicate you were calm, fearless of what was about to come. The smirk on your lips and humour shining in your eyes convey that you were only joking… Though, you would like to get at least a few feet away before he… 

You had a vague idea as to what was about to happen, and you didn’t want to wait to meet the demon within… 

“Hm.” 

That’s all you receive from him. A hum, avoiding whether to agree or deny your request. 

You don’t bother asking him to elaborate, don’t bother waiting to see the outcome. Both would just be stupid, you’d probably end up dead or hurt. He didn’t have time to wait any longer, he was crumbling right before you. Maybe you were selfish to ask him for a head start, but you also needed to look out for your own skin. Couldn’t get torn to shreds by a demon simply because you were too slow. 

You are human, he is half devil. You are more than certain it was his human half that had kept you alive all this time. So whats to say his demonic side wont hesitate to strike you down the moment he lays eyes on you? 

With that in mind, you stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing the soot between your fingertips as a reminder while your feet carry you further and further away from the house, from Vergil. The demon who saved your life and broke you out of Hell. 

Part 2 where V is bought into the equation? Let me know : )

[rotten-white-rose]

Well well, I will introduce the protagonist of this blog.

Name: Melody Gheata

Age: Apparently 19 (she really is millennia old although she is younger than Karl Heinz)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Birthday: December 29

Zodiac: Capricorn

Nicknames: Mesubuta (by Yuma), Yuki-onna (by Laito), Watermelon (by Ayato), Lilith-san (by Azusa).

Blood type: -A

Status: Dead / Alive

Race: Demon (Succubus) / Vampiress

Height: 1'80 cm

Weight: 60 kg

Eye color: Garnet

Hair Color: White

Body type: Voluptuous

Occupation: 3rd year High School Student, Queen of Hell

Appearance: Melody's style ranges from casual to gothic. What she uses the most are dark colors, such as black, gray, maroon or dark purple. You will never see her in pastel colors or white, since for her, wearing white is wearing a funeral dress. She almost always wears cleavage. Also as an accessory, she wears a special necklace for her that is only removed from her when she goes to sleep, where she leaves safely.

Personality: She is an arrogant and broken woman. She has great pride and always boasts of her benefits. She is flirtatious, she likes to play with fire but she knows the limits and she never gets to the point of burning. Although she flirts more to make the person nervous than to get something. Despite covering herself with an arrogant, frivolous and immature attitude, she hides a woman who wants to be loved just as she is. She always hides her true intentions and feelings.

Hobbies: Studying constellations, reading and playing the piano.

Favorite food: Sarmale (Romanian food)

Relatives:

Father: Lucifer (deceased)

Mother: Rosemary (deceased)

Twin sister: Kuroko (deceased)

Good traits:

Loyal

Charismatic

Compassionate

Kind

Bad traits:

Arrogant

Proud

Immature

Liar

Powers:

Immortality: She cannot die, not even if she wishes it with all her soul.

Self-regeneration: If she receives a fatal wound, she will regenerate, regardless of how long it takes.

Power and custody over two dragons: She ended up ruling hell and with it, by her unwanted power from her, she received the blessing and loyalty of two dragons who rule life and death.

Change in shape or appearance: She can turn into a wolf or change her appearance to hers at a different age.

Clone invocation: She can summon a clone of herself, but said clone is a shell that will only repeat what she wants it to say. Pretty useful if she doesn't feel like doing something.

Story:

In a cold winter, on a night where the moon was bathed in blood, two twins were born who were to be immortal human beings, pure and immaculate beings, all according to the plan devised by Lucifer. However, the older twin was born still alive, with no heartbeat or temperature. A being that was not human, if not a monster corrupted by the demonic and vampiric blood of her progenitors. The younger twin, on the other hand, was born everything as Lucifer had planned, an immortal human. It can be assumed that the monarch of hell was not at all happy with the outcome of it. A plan that ended in disaster, all because of "that thing".

Despite everything, both girls were given love and affection, at least, by her mother, who loved her little and adored Melody with all her soul. From the moment she saw her huge maroon eyes watching her, she fell in love with her tenderness. She was sorry that her husband hated her eldest daughter so much, but she was calm when she saw that she paid attention to her youngest.

"Since Kuroko receives affection from my husband, I will give all my affection to my precious and sweet Melody." Those were her thoughts. However, the demonic blood that ran through the veins of the little one of hers did not take long to blossom, unleashing and corrupting her with only 3 millennia. With an incessant thirst for blood, she slaughtered the army guarding hell and this gave Lucifer the perfect excuse to imprison her. Melody spent 12 millennia imprisoned and tortured. She couldn't die, because her body ended up regenerating even if she didn't want to. She wanted the light, she wanted freedom and wanted with all her soul, her death. But not even that was allowed.

At 15 millennia, she got enough strength to be able to escape from her prison, ending the life of the one who had locked her up and getting the power of hell. Unfortunately, her mother had lost her sanity, due to her guilt and sadness at not being able to rescue her from such an ordeal. Melody fulfilled her mother's request and ended her life in the smoothest possible way. As for Kuroko, the relationship of both sisters was always complex. They hated, envied and at the same time, admired each other. They had a confrontation and the winner was the oldest, although it was not by her own hand. To this day, Melody regrets both the death of her mother and that of her younger sister, she regrets not having been able to do anything. As for her powers, she had become so strong that she ended up gaining the loyalty of the two dragons that today channel her powers. Said dragons were the guardians of life and death: Vitae, the blue-eyed white dragon that hated humans and Mortem, the red-eyed black dragon that, unlike its companion, loved humans.

She decided to stay in hell so she could take over both the kingdom and to investigate her father's writings. She was able to understand the objective that she had set herself to achieve and the reason for those visits with that man who called himself Karl Heinz. That plan ... without a doubt, "that man" had no qualms about using anyone to carry it out. She also found "plan B" and was surprised to see that she was precisely the main target of that plan. She burned the papers after reading them and decided that she would live as a human. It was what she wanted. Freedom and light. She wanted to feel humanity in her own flesh, to feel the warmth and to be able to live among humans. She wouldn't be Lilith… she wouldn't allow herself to be part of a stupid experiment.

Years passed when she had come to the human world and settled in a Transylvanian town. That town was the home of her mother when she was human. Melody achieved a few years of happiness, where she had fallen in love and committed to a human. Just on her wedding day, when she was 17 millennia, she learned secretly that her future husband was only going to marry her to get her fortune and status. She could see that he was with another woman. It was then that she understood that humans were selfish, cruel, capricious, and lying beings. She was carried away by her anger and sadness, letting her emotions speak for her. That is why her snow-white wedding ended up being covered in crimson.

"If my feelings cause this ... if my feelings cause me so much pain ... I don't need a heart!"

She decided to return to hell, where she got a coffin full of white roses. Those flowers were her late mother's favorites and they were her favorites too. She lay down among the roses and decided to sleep for two millennia ... until someone woke her up, for her to continue her reign and receive a visit. Apparently her father's great friend, Karl Heinz, had decided to talk to her about business.

"So, will you accept the proposal, dear?"

“Yes, after all, my life is already boring. Living again between humans and vampires ... fufu, I wonder if your children can really bear it ... I'll make you see that both the plan of "that man" and yours, are not going to bear fruit. Just as my birth was a mistake, the plan to get Lilith and Eve to find two Adam and start a new race… will end in error. "

"We will see if it really is as you say. Until then, I will be a spectator. I hope you don't disappoint me. "

Curiosities:

She has died in every possible way.

She is right-handed.

She has two bodies. The first is the real one, without self-regeneration and the second is the regenerated. Her real body is a decomposing corpse, but due to the self-regeneration that her body unconsciously exerts, she always has a young and immaculate body.

She loves cold temperatures as they make her feel "alive".

She hates and adores winter.

Her fangs are much longer, sharper, and larger than those of an ordinary vampire.

Although she doesn't admit it, she fears loneliness.

She has a great knowledge of the constellations and loves to see the starry sky.

Her hair is extremely long, as she reaches above her ankles.

She is lazy and loves to sleep.

She may feel pain, but she's so used to it that she doesn't notice it anymore.

She tends to woo cute girls, even though she's just kidding.

 When there is a red moon, her powers are increased, while in an eclipse she feels completely weak.

She always wears a necklace that her mother gave her before she died. It consists of a silver cross with five diamond-shaped garnet gems. Behind the cross, there is an inscription in Romanian that says: “You are my light. You are my life. Please live and be happy. " Melody feels extremely attached to that necklace and if it were to break, she would end up devastated, since it is the only memory she has of her mother.

[hiirunakaarchive]

– to act in haste (3)

↳ Facts could never be disputed, but natural and insensible phenomenons like fate were fickle and ever-changing. Ethan hoped that maybe the outcome of this god-awful situation he was in right now could be fickle and ever-changing too.

↳  (pt 1), (pt 2), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: like 99.9% angst, 0.1% comedy (?) i hope that part of the story was funny man idk

◇ word count: 4.6k+

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms, @perriewinklenerdie, @jooous​, @senseofduties​, @moteestro​, @anything-but-reality​

◇ author’s note: hey friends, i hope yall are staying safe and indoors during these strange times! classes have been moved online, so i’ve been writing and lo and behold –– part three to my series (which i finished a lot sooner that i expected :o) ! i was honestly writing this thinking it’d be the finale but the 10k word count was telling me smth else, so a FOURTH part is gonna be posted and THAT is gonna be the last one! also not to toot my own horn but i really, honestly, TRULY believe this third part is the best ive ever written, and i hope you guys like it as much as i do! like always, feedback is super appreciated and i’d be more than happy to add anyone to the tags! happy reading!

–

Dr. Ramsey was almost never wrong.

Almost.

And he hung on to that almost with a vice-like grip, that one in a million possibility that maybe this time, he could be wrong, and God, he had never wanted to be wrong so badly. But anyone with half a brain could put two and two together and figure out why his spiteful ex-lover stood in his office long after her shift had ended; white coat folded neatly and hugged against her chest with a sealed envelope at hand. Yet, despite knowing fully well what that letter being slid across his desk meant, he dared to challenge the inevitable truth. To let himself hope—

I could be wrong.

He took it in his hands carefully, and tore the envelope open.

Let it be wrong. Let it be wrong, let it be wrong, let it be-

”You’re resigning.”

He read it slowly and steadily, gathering himself with one long breath and the last sliver of calm he could find.

Over the course of the year, Haruna Sakurai had become some sort of a celebrity in Boston’s exclusive world of health care professionals, dubbed the perfect model to emulate in all aspects of being a doctor. She was as kind as she was intelligent, but unflinching in her righteous principles and a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

She was Edenbrook’s most valuable asset, yet the letter of resignation laying open on Ethan’s desk seemed to taunt him in ways that delved beyond a professional context. He regarded it hollowly, absorbing the great loss her departure would serve to the hospital, but also let his mind pathetically wander to the thought of where her resignation would leave the both of them.

It was silly and stupid, because they weren’t even romantically involved anymore. That tranquil period where they sat across from each other in comfortable silence, danced in his kitchen until they realized breakfast was burned, talked and laughed until they couldn’t breathe – it was such a distant memory that Ethan was convinced that it was nothing but a dream. 

It didn’t matter because she was slipping from him anyway.

“Losing you would be quite a blow to the hospital, Dr. Sakurai. Is there anything that would make you reconsider?” He had to be impartial. 

Convince her to stay. For the hospital, not for yourself, you selfish prick. No more of this lovesick nonsense.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, and it was deplorable. The year Haruna spent on the fellowship had changed her. She stood taller, spoke louder, smiled wider, and Ethan convinced himself that losing her was a trivial price to pay for the success she so deserved. 

Haruna had grit her teeth and accepted his twisted gift, abandoning that whirlwind romance they had, and as compensation, acquired invaluable knowledge that no one could pry from her cold dead hands. She had so clearly moved on, thus, there was nothing left to do but for Ethan to make peace with it and follow suit. 

“I’m sorry, but my mind is set. It’s a...career move.”

Yet why did he still insist on making her stay?

“A career move? Dr. Sakurai, you do know that you’re employed at one of the best hospitals in the United States.” He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and she rolled her eyes at his statement of the obvious.

“Of course I do, but our partnership with Panacea Labs has them trampling on every standard and principle that made Edenbrook one of the best in the first place.”

“I hate saying this as much as you hate hearing it, but that’s not something we can change.” Ethan sighed as he rubbed his temples. 

“I know, so I’m leaving before it disappoints me further.”

“Life in and of itself is a disappointment, Dr. Sakurai.” he argued. “We-“

“I’m going back to Japan.” She blurted.

Haruna bit her lip, bringing a hand to her face like it was a secret she meant to keep and just as suddenly as she said it, Ethan’s world stopped all at once. The clock that hung just above the entrance to his office stopped ticking. He saw Haruna’s lips moving as she continued to speak, but couldn’t hear a thing. Every joint in his body seemed to have froze and gone numb. Dead silence enveloped Dr. Ramsey to the deepest part of him that it could dig.

Dr. Sakurai’s confession rang in his ears like a siren, and Ethan wanted nothing more than to make it stop. The loss of what they had stung him to the point that he almost clutched at the imaginary ache of his chest, but despite that, he carried on. Seeing Haruna was never easy, but the dull sting at the sight of her served as a very real reminder that she wasn’t just a dream. That there once existed a period where Ethan loved a woman so much that he was no longer himself. She was real and tangible, and as long as she remained so, Ethan fooled himself into thinking he had a chance and the luxury of time in fixing what seemed to be irreparable.

You can’t fix this anymore. 

That cruel realization slapped him back to reality.

“-y parents are encouraging me to come home and work in their hospital. I’m hoping that it can offer me new and invaluable insight– Dr. Ramsey are you listening?”

Ethan lifted his gaze from the envelope on his desk and met her eyes. He stood from his office chair and planted his hands on the surface of the table, leaning forward.

“I’m listening. And what insight, pray tell, can the Sakurai Medical Centre give you that Edenbrook can’t?”

The tone of his voice adopted a subtle bitterness to which Haruna raised a brow. She uncrossed her arms, imitating Ethan’s pose and setting one hand parallel to his on top of his desk.

“It’s a new experience.” She responded impatiently, “A more challenging setting.”

“In the hospital that your parents own? How could that setting ever challenge you the same way we do here?” He continued to prod.

“In ways you couldn’t possibly hope to understand. Are we done here?”

“Not until you tell me the real reason why you’re resigning, Dr. Sakurai. You’ve made a name for yourself in this city, you’ve accomplished what thousands of doctors wished they could at your age. How could you leave that all behind?”

Here they were again, arguing, God, they were always arguing. Both of them were far too proud and far too stubborn to swallow their pride and back down. The only thing that seemed like a capable reminder to keep things civil was the mahogany desk that kept them mere inches apart. 

She placed a hand on her hip and leaned closer across the table.

“I think you’re taking things too personally, Dr. Ramsey.” Haruna accused.

She was close. Too close, and Ethan swallowed hard and realized he could never win against her.

He looked away, in denial. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Haruna scoffed.

“Really? Then look at me and tell me that I got this far so early into my career because of my own hard work. Tell me that every doctor in Boston would know my name even if you didn’t use your position to land me that spot on the diagnostics team even though I was in fourth place. Face it, Dr. Ramsey, you don’t want me to leave because it means that everything you did was for nothing.” She spat.

Ethan threw his hands up in aggravation. “Sakurai, this isn’t about me, god damn it! This is about you compromising a perfect career that–”

“You don’t know what it’s like!” She yelled, her voice resonating across the room. 

The sudden raise in volume took Ethan by surprise, and he bit back a response as Haruna scowled in an attempt to calm herself.

“You have no idea what it’s like...walking into that room everyday with doctors like you, June and Baz, and knowing that I’m not even supposed to be there. I come in here and see you and am just reminded that every bit of success I have now is because you loved me. Too damn much, if you ask me.” 

“You want to know the worst part of it all?” She laughed despite herself. “Acting like I didn’t enjoy every minute of that fellowship, when the truth is that I relished in it. I spent this entire year resenting you yet basking in all this knowledge and these opportunities that you gave me. Then I’d come in the next day and hate you a little less than I did the day before. One day, I woke up and realized that I probably never even hated you at all. If anything, I was...grateful.” She cringed as she said it, then looked at Ethan with contempt.

For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t directed at him, but at herself.

“Do you get it? I can’t keep working here, because the mere sight of you is proof that I’m just as greedy and self-serving as bastards like Declan Nash, and I’d sooner die than become a doctor so disgusting. If I can’t bring myself to hate you, then...” She trailed off and looked away, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

The revelation was all too much for Ethan to process, and his mind was riddled with questions. For over a year, he’d wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares of how she regarded him with immeasurable animosity. Was she trying to tell him that, that too, was a facade? A tense muscle in Dr. Ramsey’s jaw relaxed as he asked her quietly,

“Are you running from me, Haruna?”

“If I am?”

They looked at each other in a moment that seemed to end all too quickly, and the weight and meaning of what she said dawned on the both of them. Her eyes widened at the proclamation she mistakenly let slip and Dr. Sakurai snatched her letter of resignation from Ethan’s desk, starting towards the door.

“Never mind. Forget it.”

For a moment, he considered listening to her. To let her go like he’d always done. Every time they spoke, she always ended up leaving anyway. Ethan persuaded himself into believing that she was better off without him, but–

You are never going to have another chance after this.

And he realized, that the moment he let her leave that room, everything would really be over. He’d have to live with the regret of never having taken that final opportunity to mend what they’d both thought was unmendable, or at least try to. Would she have also wished that he’d tried to stop her?

“Wait...I said wait!”

Ethan bolted towards the exit, and Haruna froze in her tracks as he slammed the door back shut as she was about to leave. Her back was to him and his arm remained situated on the wooden surface, inches from her head.

“I need to know, Dr. Sakurai,” He breathed,

“Do I still mean something to you?”

Ethan heard her sharp intake of breath, taken aback by his sudden inquiry. Cautiously, Haruna turned to face him and that calm air of hers that always seemed so natural now looked like nothing but a brittle front to hold herself together.

“You do.” She admitted.

“I still love you, Dr. Ramsey. So much. I’ve loved you all this time but I-“

Her breathed hitched, and like a dam, she, and that distant and unbothered facade she was so adamant on maintaining, collapsed. Her cheeks were wet with tears and Ethan’s face fell as Haruna buried her face into her hands. He willed himself not to hold her.

She wouldn’t want you touching her. You don’t have the right. You don’t-

But against his better judgement he took her in his arms, and the solace he felt with the familiarity of this woman’s warmth, who seemed so small trapped against his chest, overwhelmed him with emotion. It had been so long since he last touched her, and both Ethan and Haruna knew that it may very well be the last. So he held her. He held her the way he wished he could have in the year that they didn’t speak. The way he should have held her from the start. And she let him.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever embrace anyone else the same way ever again.

“God, Ethan, where did we go wrong?” She sobbed.

He rested his chin gently on her head and didn’t respond, because he knew that nothing he could say in this predicament that they were in– no, that they’ve been in, would console her. Dr. Sakurai’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she cried, and Ethan felt her go slack against him, holding her tighter as he lowered the both of them gently to the floor. 

***

She was in his arms for the next hour. Sixty minutes of pure silence, apart from her weeping, and Ethan could do nothing but comfort the woman. He looked up at the ceiling as Haruna sniffled, and couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself be so vulnerable in front of him.

“We can’t be together like this.” She finally spoke, her voice raspy from the crying.

“I-” Dr. Ramsey began, ready to argue. He knew better though, and sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. “I know.”

“Good. So you know that you have to let me leave, then.”

He stayed silent in an attempt to avoid the question. Of course he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. If he did, he’d be acknowledging that this was for the best; and more often than not, the right decision wasn’t always the easiest.

“Haruna, I...” He started in protest, but paused as he felt Dr. Sakurai’s hand slide up to rest on his cheek.

He looked down at her, and wondered if he was being too transparent. If she could see how broken he was at realizing the choice they both had to make. She sat up a little straighter, still in Ethan’s arms and rested her forehead against his. Then she asked him quietly. Pleadingly.

“Please, Ethan.”

How could he ever say no to her?

So he responded wordlessly, tilting his head and bringing his lips to hers. Haruna met him halfway, and a year and a half of fierce self-restraint and inexplicable pining for the feel of each other erupted all at once. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer by the nape of his neck. Ethan cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her, softly at first, but every second that passed with her mouth on his summoned a tide of longing that he forced himself to keep latent all this time, and it only urged him to kiss her harder.

“I love you.” He groaned against her mouth. “God, I love you.”

She merely smiled at his reckless confession, holding him by the lapels of his coat until, Ethan, breathless, forced himself to pull away. He brought a finger below her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying and her hair was disheveled from the moment of passion they just shared, but Ethan couldn’t recall ever being in love with her more than he was in that moment. 

“Haruna, marry me.” 

Her eyes widened in surprise. She looked like she was going to say something in protest, but Ethan continued in order to validate his outrageous request.

“Not now.” He interjected. “You’re going to go to Japan, and become the best damn doctor they’ve ever seen. Your success will be your own, and no one will ever remember that you were ‘The’ Ethan Ramsey’s protege in the first place because you’ll become someone a hundred times better.” 

Dr. Ramsey pushed himself off the floor, and pulled Haruna up following that. Her eyes had begun to shine with tears again, dangerously close to falling, and Ethan held her face in his hands. He offered her a comforting smile, but he wasn’t certain if it was meant to reassure her, or to hide his own brokenness.

“Then, if these god damn stars ever choose to align for us and we see each other again, however long that might take, we’ll get married. Is that clear, Rookie?”

She laughed through the tears.

“Crystal, Dr. Ramsey.”

–– 

Dr. Haruna Sakurai departed for Japan the following week. No one knew of her resignation except for the diagnostics team, Naveen, and her closest friends from intern year, so Ethan remained unbothered at the gossip that rang through the hospital when one day, she had stopped coming to work and no one knew why. 

After that evening where he vociferated that almost childish marriage pact, Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai failed to have another chance to speak. He was busy with his own doctorly duties and Sakurai was preoccupied with tying up any loose ends before she left for good. They’d merely pass by each other in the halls and their interactions alternated between a subtle smile, a curt nod, or a discreet brush of the fingers.

When Haruna accepted his poor excuse of a proposal, Ethan thought he’d convinced himself that it was going to be alright. That things would turn out fine because they parted on good terms and with the knowledge that they’d made the right choice.

So he had to pretend, and to an extent he never did before.  

Pretend like he wasn’t heartbroken at the fact that she didn’t say goodbye. 

Pretend like he wasn’t just as surprised as everyone else when he came to work and didn’t hear the sound of her voice by the nurses’ station like he would everyday.

The feigning of indifference had embedded itself so deeply into his routine that Ethan believed it was real. He readopted his strictly objective nature, like how he used to be before he met her, and just like that, his world went numb and grey.  

“I’m worried for you, Ethan.” Naveen sighed as he sat across Ethan’s desk, genuine concern written all over his face.

Dr. Ramsey didn’t bother looking up as he flipped through applications for the year’s new batch of interns. “We have hundreds of patients to treat and a budget cut that still needs to be solved. I’m not who you should be worried about, Naveen.” He replied dryly.

“My shift ended twenty minutes ago, my boy,” Dr. Banerji chuckled. 

“I’m not here as administration, I’m here as your friend. Now tell me, why are you acting this way?”

"Acting what way?” Ethan quipped, setting down a folder to give his mentor his full attention. “I’m not any different from the last twelve years we’ve been working together.”

“Completely and wholly devoted to your job, I know. But in the past twelve years I’ve known you, you’ve never been so...” Naveen rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he pondered for the right word. “Anesthetized?”

Banerji eyed Ethan carefully, almost strictly. 

“You’ve always been a workaholic, Ethan, but never to the point that you neglected your own health. You’re a walking contradiction as a doctor.”

Ethan knew he was right. If there was anybody in the world that he could never win against in an argument, it was his mentor and his mentee. The three of them were an elite trifecta with a unique bond equipped with boundless knowledge, and Ethan swallowed hard as he remembered her for the first time in the four months since she left. 

After coming to terms with her resignation, Ethan thought that their parting satisfied him enough to live on happily and assured of their love for each other. But the following week of being deprived of her presence and being reminded he might never see her again made Dr. Ramsey realize that it was stupidly naive of him to think so. This was nothing like the two months he spent in the Amazon, because he didn’t have that certainty of her greeting him when he inevitably came back. He was unsure of whether the stars really would align for them like he suggested, but certain that he’d never love anyone the same way he loved her. 

He drowned himself in work and almost stopped coming home. The bags beneath his eyes had grown so much more prominent, and four months of this self-negligent lifestyle had aged him more than twelve years of working as a doctor of internal medicine ever could. Of course Banerji had been the first one to notice.

“She’s there everywhere I go, Naveen.” Ethan confessed, unable to keep it to himself any longer.  

“Can’t even leave this damn office and grab a coffee anymore. I ordered my usual roast at Derry’s, and you know what happened? The barista snuck me a free espresso Romano! Told me, ‘for the other pretty doctor,’ and I almost lost it.”

Dr. Banerji stared in disappointment at his own pupil’s oblivion. He had given him too many invaluable lessons to count, but the one thing he never succeeded in helping Ethan understand was the importance of subjectivity. That sometimes even the most logical and calculated decisions were no match against the fickle loyalties of the heart. 

“Answer me honestly, Ethan,” Naveen dropped all hints of playfulness. 

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

–– FIVE YEARS LATER

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

When Naveen asked that question, the answer popped into Ethan’s mind shamefully quick. Accompanied with that epiphany, his world, the one that went numb and grey, began to scream altogether. The imaginary pain that once pricked him frivolously like pins and needles hit him all at once and burst into flames. Shallow incisions made to his heart with every thought of her and what could have been, transitioned into relentless, deep cuts that came at a pace faster than he could heal. 

Over the course of five years, Ethan stopped trying to fight it and left his heart to be mangled by the regret.

“Yes, I regret it.” 

Today marked his seventeenth year of working at Edenbrook, and Dr. Ramsey had lost count of how many batches of interns had come and gone. He still thought about her occasionally, when he’d see her friends in the hospital or at midnight in bed and alone with his thoughts; but time had done a fairly adequate job of healing that wound. Five years in retrospect didn’t seem that long, but it was enough for Dr. Haruna Sakurai’s face to blur and drown into the deepest recesses of Ethan’s mind. 

“He’s so freaking fine, but I swear he doesn’t have eyes.”

Making his rounds, Ethan’s brows furrowed irritably at the interns he caught gossiping in the hall. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, more than ready to reprimand them until a calloused hand caught him by the shoulder.

“Shhh. I want to know what they’re saying about you.” Ethan turned his head just enough to see that it was Dr. Lahela.

He never expected to grow close with one of her brother-like figures, but him and the surgeon spent too much time together at the gym, and Ethan grew fond of the younger doctor more than he cared to admit.

“You know Dr. Tremaine? The pretty one with a sixteen thousand follower count on Instagram? She asked him to dinner and he just walked past her like he didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not turn down Dr. Tremaine.” Bryce covered his mouth with a hand, feigning shock and Ethan retorted almost immediately with his own dry humour. 

“I think you forget sometimes that the thought of your best friend still torments me.”

“Right. Sorry.”

They turned back towards the young doctors, so deep into their conversation that the two didn’t even bother hiding anymore. Ethan leaned against the wall patiently as Bryce cleaned his stethoscope with an alcohol wipe he dug out from his pocket.

“Dr. Castillo’s brother did his residency here too, and rumour has it that Dr. Ramsey actually had a fling with an intern from his batch a couple years back.”

“Shut up. She must’ve been so hot if she could make Dr. Ramsey budge.”

Ethan leaned over to Bryce, unsure of why he was even following his request of keeping silent.

“My ears are bleeding, Lahela.” He aggressively muttered under his breath.

“Wait, they’re getting to the good part. You know how I love hearing Haruna’s praises sung– wait, Dr. Ramsey!” The surgeon’s voice faded as Ethan ignored his plea, beginning his march towards the rumourmongering interns. 

“–Super hot, super smart, and super scary. Apparently she punched Declan Nash in the face once.”

“Shut up! Who is she?”

“You know the one from the last issue of Times? Like, total medical prodigy? Asia’s top doctor who-”

“–Turned her parents hospital into Japan’s top research facility, I know the whole deal. What about her?”

“So, like, she used to work at Edenbrook right? Apparently-”

“You two, interns!” Ethan barked down the hall.

“Dr. Ramsey!” And his terrifying approach was drowned out by Harper Emery’s own voice and the loud clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner.

Complete, utter fear settled into the young doctors’ eyes as they realized that they were in the company of Edenbrook’s most skilled and accomplished staff, one of whom they were gossiping about. Their gaze darted between a cool and collected Harper, and Ethan, who was very visibly seething, and found they could look nowhere else but the floor. 

Harper and Ethan rekindled their friendship following Aurora’s transfer to Mass Kenmore. Harper realized that she wanted the fellowship more for Aurora than she did for herself, and thanks to the younger Emery distancing herself from Edenbrook and her aunt’s legacy, the women were closer now than they’ve ever been before.

“We need to talk.” Harper demanded, despite being aware of the tension.

“It might have to wait, Dr. Emery, I’m in the middle of something important.”

Harper stepped towards him and spoke in a voice low enough that only Ethan could hear, her tone demanding his full attention.

“Dr. Ramsey.” Harper repeated, more firmly this time.

Ethan sensed the urgency in her voice, and looked between his friend and the interns. Exhaling once, he shot them one more infuriated look before turning back the way he came and following his colleague. Ethan eyed Dr. Lahela expectantly as him and Harper strolled past.

“You're up, scalpel jockey.” And Bryce smiled excitedly, closing his eyes and getting into character before storming down the hall.

“Coffee must be one hell of a drug if I’m seeing not one, but two interns chatting ‘til kingdom come while they’re still on the damn clock! Both of you, names!”

Harper failed at containing a smile. “You’re a horrible influence, Ethan.”

He shook his head, repressing his own laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That pupil of yours wouldn’t leave me alone until I showed him the ropes of...what did he call it, ah– oral persecution. So what was it that you wanted to tell me?” 

“You and Dr. Hirata will be in attendance for a medical conference in Kyoto as Edenbrook’s representatives.”

He nodded in response, continuing to look straight ahead as they walked. “Hmph, like always.”

“And Dr. Sakurai will be present as the keynote speaker.”

[slytherin-puffskein]

hope’s lullaby.

summary: The summer between Laurent King’s fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts was the one that hurt the most. Luckily, comfort came to him.

- - -

notes: a huge thank you to all my beta readers for the wonderful feedback they gave me!

- - -

Hope, as Laurent King had recently found out, is nothing but a lie. A stupid invention. A cruel lullaby meant to soothe you with unrealistic scenarios and to make you believe that everything is, in fact, alright when it is clearly not. He had made the mistake of hoping through all summer, of creating himself nonsense --illogical yet comforting scenarios in his mind-- and the truth about hope was finally hitting him full force: it’s sole purpose is to leave you, to abandon you, and to leave you stuck with your own feelings and disarray.

These were his thoughts as he laid before him the many letters he had just received. Spending the entirety of August at his aunt’s place, he had taken care to inform all of his friends of his new address. As he had expected, tons of messages have been sent to him, filled with love and friendship, now awaiting to be read. Even though he knew he should be feeling happy he felt a terrible, selfish bitterness take over his being as he realized something. Fucking called it. But why am I disappointed, if I had already sort of expected it? This doesn’t make fucking sense. None of this does. Why why why? Before him laid letters sent by Penny Haywood, Rowan Khanna, Tulip Karasu… none of them bore the name he had wished most ardently to see.

Barnaby Lee.

Throughout the course of the entire summer, Laurent had no received a single letter from him. It was as if, suddenly, Barnaby had vanished from the surface of the Earth. Or, as Laurent was thinking, as if he, himself, had vanished from the surface of the Earth. As if Barnaby had forgotten about him, had told himself he wasn’t worth it in the end, and the worst was that he didn’t even had the decency to end whatever they had via a letter. 

Whatever they had, he was using that phrase because he simply couldn’t find any other words to use. Friendship? They had more than that, ever since their date at the end of their fifth year. Love? No, they never kissed. And now it would probably, most definitely, never happen. You lost him. You lost it all. What did you do wrong? Everything, probably. It’s just as your dad tells you! No one will ever love you, not with how you currently are. A sob threatened to break through his lips, but he miraculously succeeded in holding it back. Instead of sitting on his bed and crying, he simply slipped the letters under his pillow. He’d read them later.

He didn’t have the time then, because it was time for his shift at his aunt’s bakery. Thank Merlin, I’ll have something to do to take my mind off this shit.

* * *

“Turn that frown upside down!”

Cyril Colin, Laurent’s cousin, was an all too optimistic guy, and at that very moment Laurent was finding himself feeling deeply annoyed. What does he know about what is going on anyway? I didn’t tell him shit. He has no business to try and comfort me. Of course, in another state of mind, Laurent would have appreciated that gesture, but right then the only thing he wished for was to be left alone, and to focus on the croissants he was baking.

In the face of his cousin’s silence, Cyril pouted, and insisted: “C’mon, Laurent. You know you can tell me everything, right? You’re here for me, it’s only fair that I should be here for you. So what’s wrong? Is it related to a wi--”

But before he could finish that final word, Laurent had shoved the first thing that landed in his hand, a macaron, in his cousin’s mouth. “Hush! Don’t say that word out loud, you know it’s supposed to be a secret!” And just like that, the conversation was over, much to Laurent’s joy.

However, by the end of his shift, Laurent still only held one wish: to curl himself in his blankets and to sink into a deep, dreamless sleep. Oh, yeah, that sounded just like paradise, at least to him. This is so ridiculous. Why am I so affected by Barnaby not sending me any letter? It’s not like he’s… my boyfriend or anything.

But that is something you wish for dearly, don’t you? a wicked voice whispered into his mind. You want to touch his hands, to touch his lips, to be his. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he figured out just how of a terrible guy you are. Remember what your father said: you act without thinking, and in your eyes the devil slumbers! That must be true, right? It surely is, since Barnaby’s left you!

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.

And all of a sudden, it felt as if his throat was closing right up. He was suffocating, suffering, hurting, and only one thing became his priority: to get the hell out of here and get some fresh air. 

Even if he still had fifteen minutes left on his shift and should have waited until he was done, it was as if his body had a mind of its own, shaky fingers untied his apron and let it fall to the floor. Before he could even realize what he was doing, he was standing outside of the bakery, his cousin’s voice faintly calling for him from the inside, worry painting each of his syllables. He hated that. He hated that Cyril always felt the need to worry over him. I’m fine, Cyril. I’m fine, I keep telling you that and you won’t LISTEN. But the truth was, Laurent wasn’t feeling alright. Not at all. He was just too proud to admit it to himself --too proud to come to terms with the fact that he was truly affected by Barnaby’s radio silence.

Too proud to admit that you’re in love.

“Damn, did you just come back from a marathon or something? You could have warned me, I would’ve come with you. Y’know I love running.” That voice. That all too familiar voice. No, it couldn’t be. Wait. Could it be? No. I spoke to him on the phone last night. Surely, he didn’t come all the way here… or…

As he raised his head and locked gazes with the man standing in front of him, it felt as if his heart was about to burst. Not because of the sadness that had been piling up over it, but because of the pure, bright joy that had suddenly taken over. With a sigh of relief on his lips, he threw his arms around Oscar Whelan.

If people declared Laurent King to be mischief incarnate, that only meant they had yet to meet Oscar Whelan --trouble incarnate. Any ounce of chaos put a smile on his face, every action of his was a mere result of his impulsivity, and his entire aura said one thing and one thing only: ‘let’s run away, you and I. Let’s flee this world and build our own’.

At least, that was what it said whenever Laurent was with him, so he came to assume that it was the same with everyone else.

Born a Muggle, Oscar had known Laurent ever since childhood. They grew up together and he’d been the shoulder Laurent cried on when his mother gave out her last breath. Following her funeral Oscar had brought him to this family’s small apartment where a sleepover without any actual sleep had taken place. Through comforting words and gentle laughter, Oscar had done everything in his power to make Laurent’s smile come back, while also helping him deal with his grief.

When his Hogwarts acceptance letter came, Laurent had been overwhelmed with the wish to tell his friend everything, but he knew very well that in no way that could happen. Instead, he told him that his father had decided to make him a student in a strict boarding school, and that as a result he was meant to leave for ten months, ever year for the next seven years. Are you serious? Oscar had exclaimed. You mean, like, a boarding school with uniforms and such? Lying to his best friend had been the worst thing for Laurent, but he was also well aware that it was for the best. If he were to reveal the existence of the wizarding world to someone outside of his family, just what would possibly happen? Oscar wasn’t a loose lipped person, but no risks could be taken.

No, that’s a lie. A risk had been taken, but an entirely different one. By hiding his true life from Oscar, Laurent had harbored the fear that a wall would build itself between them, separating them and preventing them from fully understanding each other. From his perspective, that imaginary wall would only lead to one outcome: the destruction of his friendship with Oscar Whelan, and that was something he knew he couldn’t possibly handle.

Years had passed and the wall still had yet to make its appearance. But Laurent had kept on fearing, and at sixteen years old he was still terrified. Even with Oscar currently hugging him close, the anxiety related to losing his friendship sprang forth and threatened to take control of his brain.

How unjust, that I cannot tell him everything!

After several minutes of silent hugging, Laurent pulled away at last, but his hands remained splayed on Oscar’s chest to feel his heartbeat. His friend’s arm, wrapped around his waist, provided him with unimaginable comfort. “What are you doing here?” Laurent’s eyes were pretty much filled with question marks at this point, and Oscar could only smile.

“C’mon now, Lau. I know you. When you called me yesterday I felt something was wrong, so I took it upon myself and decided to pay you a visit. Least I can do, right? Though I gotta admit, the thought of stepping into your bakery was also very enticing.”

“It’s not my bakery, Oscar.” Laurent giggled. “It’s my aunt’s, you totally know that.”

“Right. Otherwise you would have added many more flowers for decorations. You should talk about it to your aunt, I’m sure it would look great.”

Oscar’s words remained in Laurent’s mind: When you called me yesterday I felt something was wrong. Yes, Laurent had spoken to him on the phone, but never had he mentioned the letters or anything else related to them, for that matter. Had he sounded that sad? He almost wanted to ask, but decided not to.

“Are you done with your shift?”

“Only a few minutes left. Had to get out to get some fresh air.”

“Well, that’s exactly why I’m here, Laurent. To give you some fresh air. Finish those minutes left, I’ll wait for you here.” But he was smiling. Smiling, because he was seeing the glint of mischief already floating in Laurent’s eyes.

Laurent couldn’t help but smile back. “How about we go now, mhm?”

* * *

They spent hours together, and Laurent hoped that this day would never end. Because, finally, he was reunited with his friend. Finally, things were feeling less heavy, and he knew all too well that the distress would return as soon as it had left if Oscar were to leave. He obviously had to, at some point, and thus Laurent was mentally preparing himself for it. At least, he will be left with memories --wonderful memories to cling into. He would lie on his bed and replay them; hearing their laughs again, tasting the ice cream that Oscar bought for him again… and listening to their conversation again.

As he walked through the city with Oscar, a smile curled his lips when he remembered a conversation which occurred only a few minutes ago. They had been sitting on a bench, in Laurent’s favorite park because of its many trees, and he had decided to tell Oscar. Not the whole wizard business, obviously, but bits and pieces of the life that he had never told him about.

His new friends, for example.

“You have Penny Haywood.” He had told with a smile while still eating his ice cream. Caramel, his favorite flavor. “She’s, like, the sweetest girl ever, I’m telling you. Rowan’s is the best nerd, he helps me studying whenever I struggle with something. At some point, he even practically held me hostage in the library so I could finish my paper! My only focus was to walk around the school, take a breather… but Rowan had other plans in mind. Tulip is the greatest prankster, I think you’d like her. I know I do, she’s one of my closest friends. And--”  The words had died out, however, as he had realized that he had been just about to mention Barnaby Lee.

Oscar had noticed the sudden change of atmosphere. “Something wrong?”

So much. I’m so worried, Oscar. No! I can’t tell him about this. It would be… too complicated. He shook his head. “Nothing, I just… I just feel bad I never told you about them sooner” Lying by telling the truth, what a funny concept. “…about anything related to my school, in truth. It… it must suck, right?” Yes, lying by telling the truth, because he wasn’t telling Oscar the real reason behind his sudden change of emotion, but he was still talking about something that was truly bothering him.

Besides, he had to mention it at some point, right? He had to address his insecurities regarding his friendship with Oscar, the magical thing he cherished dearly, or else it would truly turn to dust.

Much to his surprise, Oscar giggled and gently nudged him. “You can tell or not tell me whatever you want, Laurent. I’ll never take it personal.” He suddenly paused, his brows knitting together in worry. “You… you didn’t tell me all of this because you felt like you had to, right? Because that ain’t right.” Laurent had been unable to not smile.

“No, not at all. I wanted to tell you about ‘em. You’re my best friend, after all. As you said, I tell you everything I want.” Maybe it had been a shadow, but he believed Oscar’s smile had wavered at those two words: best friend. Why, exactly?

He was still thinking of a reason, but he snapped back to reality as he realized that it was getting late. The sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky with beautiful orange and pink hues, and offered a sight that never failed to take Laurent’s breath away. He stopped in his tracks to just look up at its splendor. To memorize all of that beauty. Oscar did the same with a smile on his lips. 

“Beautiful, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I can show you something even better.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

Teasingly, Oscar placed his index over his own lips. “Curiosity is a bad thing, Laurent King~”

“Says the most curious guy I know!” And just like that, his worries were gone again.

* * *

Oscar insisted that they waited until the sky turned black and, once it did, Laurent let himself be guided by his friend, holding his hand and trying to figure out just what he had in mind. That, however, was the problem with Oscar Whelan: You never knew exactly what he was planning. Every second with him felt like a toss of the dice, with no idea as to which result you’d get.

They stopped in front of a huge building that Laurent recognized as one of the many gymnasiums of the city. Pulling out a pocket knife from his leather jacket’s pocket, Oscar got to work, quickly succeeding with picking the lock and granting them access inside. Luckily, no alarm system began to blare, and Oscar turned proudly to Laurent, offering him his hand once again. “You trust me, right?” The fact that Oscar had picked locks frequently was not only apparent from the skill he had demonstrated, but also from the absence of shock from his friend.

Now, Laurent was having a faint idea of what his friend had in mind. And without hesitation, he reached for his hand. “Of course I do, Oscar.”

And that was how they found themselves in the gymnasium’s public pool, moonlight spilling inside through the windows and reflecting itself on the calm water. A beautiful sight, truly, one that rendered Laurent still with wonder for a moment. Oscar was right. It’s so beautiful.

“You’re crazy.” But the joy in his voice was impossible to not notice.

“Love you, too.” Oscar replied as he began to undress.

Laurent was quick to do the same and, once they were only in their underwear, he realized just how cold the air was, and how much colder the water would surely be. Oscar probably had made the same realization, because his wicked smile graced his features once more. With the moonlight illuminating the side of his face, he almost looked ethereal. Like a dream. A dream that Laurent found most comforting.

“I dare you,” Oscar’s said, voice filled with challenge, “to jump.”

Oh, you’ll see, Oscar! Laurent immediately turned to look at him, fists on his hips in an attempt to make himself look more intimidating. “I dare you to jump. Wait, no, double dare you!”

“Oh, is that the game you want to play, Laurent? You know I love games.”

The teasing, the stifled in giggles that their voices were containing, it all reminded Laurent of the many blissful moments they had spent together ever since they met, moments he'd missed dearly at Hogwarts. After months of being without his best friend, everything was now falling back into place. He had Oscar, everything was alright.

That wonderful chaos he loved sharing with him had also made its comeback, it seemed, as Oscar suddenly reached for him, his arm wrapping around his waist and bringing him closer --much closer. “You brought this upon yourself, Laurent!”

And with Laurent’s roaring laughter filling the air, Oscar jumped, inevitably dragging his friend along with him.

They broke out of the water’s surface, laughing, splashing each other; and, before Laurent knew it hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, for a reason he knew all too well and yet didn’t dare admit. Oscar realized he was crying fairly quickly, and swam closer to wipe them away. “Did you really not enjoy that at all?” He was telling this to make him laugh, it was evident in his gaze.

And it worked. Laurent giggled, then sniffled and nodded. “Yup, truly terrible.” A smile came, but he decided, at last, to tell him what has been haunting him. “I just… have a friend from school ignoring me. A friend I like a lot, and… and it sucks.”

By saying it out loud, finally acknowledging his feelings, it felt as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, and he could feel himself breathing with much more ease. Oscar’s features softened, and his hand landed on Laurent’s wet shoulder. An awfully comforting touch.

While Oscar Whelan usually talks an awful lot, at that very moment he was silent as he hugged Laurent closely. Despite how little they were wearing, Laurent found himself unbothered. He’s my best friend, it would take much more to bother me.

And so, they hugged, and soon enough Oscar was whispering to him the lyrics of his favorite song. Ground control to Major Tom. Laurent let that song lull him into calmness, into total peace, and his eyes fluttered shut as they both stood still in the pool, surrounded by water. Calm, soothing water.

Maybe hoping wasn’t such a bad thing. With his friendship with Oscar, he had the hope --the belief-- that everything would turn out alright. That Barnaby would talk to him again. That he would be allowed, somehow, to love him. Those thoughts soothed him to the core.

They sang quietly.

For here am I sitting in a tin can,

Far above the world,

Planet Earth is blue,

And there’s nothing I can do.

* * *

Never write to him or even speak to him, again. Or I’ll kill him.

Barnaby’s grandmother words had kept ringing in his ears ever since the beginning of summer. He sat in his room as the moon shone bright in the sky, and caught himself staring at it.

And hoping.

Hoping that things will turn out alright.

And that he’ll soon, somehow, be with Laurent again. To touch his hands, to touch his lips, to be his.

But hope is a futile, useless thing. Isn’t it?

[abendrotbrav]

Guilty Confessional

Sophia had expected a response like this.

More than any other emotion, the young woman looked tired. There wasn't dread, just resignation in her smile. He did not feel the same. She knew this. Expected it. Yet his worries, even now…

"If anyone else said those things about you, I would have hit them." A simple declaration. The words come easy. Even if she is rejected, she feels compelled to defend this sentiment from him. To argue. It makes her smile all the more bitter, yet gentle. So gentle. So tired.

He was so openly surprised when she said it. It hurt. It hurt because she knew. He didn’t know. He didn’t feel the same. Why was she even doing this?

"I have contracted serial killers, Charles. I have contracted those who would feel no guilt for murder, who enact terrible schemes, and are the furthest removed from human morality, yet I choose to cherish them still. I adore even the most depraved sorts of people, because they are on my side. You think yourself with sins uncountable, yet they can be summed up. Have you added even one sin to your count since being summoned here? Do you think I am blind?" There's almost a tremble to him, and it steels her spine, not daring break eye contact for a second. Leaving herself in his grasp.

A hand yanks on that damn cravat, though, pulling him down to her level. She’s so tired. She’s so fucking tired.

"People like you? I’m not naive! I am not some waif who faints in the wind, some ingenue who doesn’t know a damn thing! I do not take my love for an executioner and subtract it, because it is my love. I choose to love you!” It is selfish, isn’t it? That she takes his sins and ignores them in her consideration of him because she wants him to be good. Because she wants to let herself love him. That, in the end, he is kind to her, and little else matters.

“I was born to die, Charles! I should have died! Death was there at my birth and only artificial intervention saved me! You think you can do worse than my own blood has?! How far can your ego get?! I know of your death! I know of the lives you have taken! Call me selfish, but I don't care! It does nothing to my feelings." Because he regrets. Almost too much, immovably so, he regrets. And Sophia is selfish, knowing that shouting in his face won’t do anything good, but she can’t drudge up the energy to care when she already knows how this will all end.

"I do not see a monster, but if you seek to sully your own name so much, then I will love a monster anyways! I will love a monster as tenderly as I would anyone else! If you are a monster as you insist you are, I trust you still! I give you my neck all the same. You already had it! You already had my neck from the beginning! What have you done that would ever make me regret that trust?!" It's frustrating, it's unfair, it's cruel to have to stand trial defending her own love. But she will do it. Even knowing his answer, she will do it.

"You could never hurt me." A bold proclamation. A stupid one. But she means it. Believes in it. "Charles Henri-Sanson cannot harm me. He does not have the ability to, do you understand? As an executioner, he cannot end me. As a doctor, he cannot fail me. As a servant, he cannot hurt me." A hesitation. The hand in his cravat eases, gliding to his cheek.

Why can’t this be over with?

"As a man, I would kneel before him and know I would never be harmed. That in your spectre of death, no other will come near. You are convinced you will harm me, but it is an impossible outcome. I love you, I think you could do anything you set your mind to, but this is one thing you could never do. The only harm you may do me, anyone could that I care for so deeply." Oh. Now there is something wet running down her cheeks. A feeling like her chest will burst.

"I know how this sort of thing ends, okay? I’m not dumb. I know what your answer is." So certain, as both hands cup his face, as she shakes and tries to smile in the face of her heart, breaking. A heart that gets attached and gives away love so easily. A heart made to break.

"Allow me the selfishness, please. To say, truly, completely, that even with your answer, I will love you anyways, Charles Henri-Sanson. I trust you with my life and soul. Please… even when you say no. Don't forget that."

"Even if you don't… don't return them… please don't push me away. That's all I ask."

"I never want to lose you, Charles."

@gallowking​ - continued from here

[tempestaurora]

endgame opinions

spoilers under the cut. i’ve opened my dms so feel free to come and scream/yell/cry/whatever with me. this turned out really long because i start speculating half way through as well as talking about opinions.

let’s start with harley keener, my son, who was literally only in the movie for a second, at the fucking funeral. are you kidding me. and a lot of people don’t know what ty simpkins looks like now?? so even my friend didn’t know who he was until i started physically vibrating in my seat

HOWEVER, he and peter are in the same location, which totally opens up a plausible reason for them to know each other, become best friends/brothers/roommates at MIT

it’s sad that it was just him standing alone though, like no one stood with him, like his mother or anyone. that’s sad.

i wrote a harley keener infinity war fic so like,, feel free to read that to get the harley keener endgame feelings we DESERVE

aNYWAY, good film

i enjoyed it a lot for the most part, like i have so few complaints its unreal

it’s a genuinely funny film that didn’t feel like it was shoehorning in comedic relief, but like the movie was SUPPOSED to be lighter and funnier and drama was happening in between

i didn’t care for the ending in the slightest fuck that

i’m pissed about being lied to by the directors about a canon gay character. they sat up there on their high horses, congratulating themselves for a job well done for diversity, when it was just a fucking extra with no name, referring to a male partner twice. that’s it. you’re fucking kidding me if you think that’s diversity, if the russos truly think that was worth getting our hopes up for.

you know who could’ve been confirmed lgbt? valkyrie. steve. bucky. tony. (and no, tony appreciating steve’s ass doesn’t confirm our bi father, son and holy spirit on screen, unfortunately.)

that’s a fucking joke, russos. i hope they’re fucking ashamed of that.

(i really was watching that final bucky/steve scene and hoping for some hint of, it was always you, you know and got fucking nothing. i barely even ship stucky and i know that it should’ve been them)

the clint/natasha fight on vormir was the best scene, hands down. there’s no competition here. it was the best moment of the film, and despite my annoyance at the russos seeing that the audience didn’t appreciate gamora dying to further a man’s arc, and then fucking doing it again, i really did like that scene

i figured nat was gonna die but i didn’t think i’d actually be sad about it

as soon as they said they were going to vormir i knew the fight would happen and it lived up to every expectation and some

the barton home cold open was fantastic

why the ever loving FUCK was carol danvers so forcefully advertised to us?????? why were we told over and over and over that carol was gonna kill thanos, that she was gonna save the day, that the avengers literally had zero chance without her????? she had four minutes of screentime what the fuck

i appreciate her and peter’s interaction though that was cute and he was wrecked

the peter/tony reunion was cute af, glad they finally got their hug

also, i always wanted peter to call him tony but like that???? nah

side note, don’t remember in the slightest what rhodey and peter said as tony died because i was sitting there going, he’s not actually gonna die, obviously, that’s not gonna happen, they’re gonna make us think he will and then he’ll come back so i missed both their goodbyes

i know it was a 3 hour film but there was space for... more. there should’ve been more. where was rocket and groot’s reunion? where was bucky and steve’s?

where did valkyrie get a fucking pegasus from

bruce and hulk’s new system is hilarious but the fact that he dabbed pains me

bruce wielding the gauntlet was so incredibly left field i loved it, like no one guessed that he’d be the one to bring everyone back. no one

scott did great

i’m not sure if i can settle myself with this five year time jump for a whole host of reasons

1. do we have, officially, a new cassie lang actress? is our iconic abby ryder fortson leaving us for an older actress???

2. far from home takes place, supposedly, a week after endgame. it was one of the reasons i believed tony wouldn’t die, because it seems like a wholly upbeat film - and y’all saw his face at the funeral, he was fucking gone - and it’s even been confirmed to be lighter and funnier, so there better be some fucking low blow that takes peter out on the tony front (but did the writers/directors even know tony had died when they made the film? will it be ignored altogether?) back to the main point:

2a. it’s around the year 2023 and as soon as the entire world comes back, there’s a two week field trip to europe that peter and all his classmates have somehow paid for, signed permission slips for, and arranged, despite the fact that they’ve all been dead for five years. and i mean all. literally the entire main cast of spiderman is still in peter’s class, they haven’t grown up and moved on. the entire fucking cast got dusted.

3. we didn’t really get to see tony and steve make up??? they kinda just brushed over everything

i almost cried seeing ned leeds and peter reunite

okay now the biggies:

i’m Not Okay with tony stark dying

i’m not

it’s not just that he’s my favourite character and i care about him above all others, it’s that his entire arc has been about first, accountability, and second, leaving the fight. yes, it’s also got a lot of heart motifs and mentions of sacrifice too. i understand that. but tony has been wrestling with his father’s legacy and the kind of father he’ll be since day one.

he deserved his happy ending.

not just five years. not just a daughter who will know OF him but not know him, who’ll forget the short time of memories she has in due course. he deserved to grow old with his daughter and his wife and the kid whose photo he placed on the shelf in the kitchen, where he could see it every day.

he does deserve rest. but he deserves the kind of rest where he’s alive.

i have said before that if tony stark dies, i stop watching the mcu, and tbh, might actually go through with it. i don’t know if i really want to watch the films, knowing he’s gone? (and that they could’ve used either the time stone, or, you know, their time travel machine, to go two weeks back, grab that tony and bring him into the present. say, hey, you died, but now you can keep living.)

and steve.

oh steve.

i love steve rogers, i do. i absolutely adore steve rogers. but i’m about the same level of angry about his ending as i am about tony’s.

and honestly? it’s only because it’s not him. it’s not the him we know. my friend said that cap went and settled down because he’d finally learnt the lesson tony had been teaching; that maybe there is a reason to set down the shield and live a quiet, good life. but i don’t like it. it opens time anomalies, inconsistencies. it doesn’t feel like him.

since cap came into the 21st century, his story line has had a motif of moving on. about getting with the times, learning new music, new references, finding old friends and having to decide whether he should hold onto them and risk what he has now, or let them go. he’s been staring at a photo of peggy carter since 2011, he made peace with her life when he visited her in hospital, he let her go when she died. he watched her, through her office window, be director of shield, knowing she was about to have a life that she loved. she has children, a family. 

it doesn’t feel like the steve rogers i know to take that away from her

but at the same time, i understand that sometimes, he should get to be a little selfish. he was selfish when it came to protecting bucky over all else, and it ended with mixed results.

i loved the final scene, of he and peggy dancing and kissing, but i think i would’ve loved that scene just as much, if not more, if it had happened in the afterlife. with an about time from peggy.

on the same subject: bucky and sam.

i’m super happy with sam being the next captain america (does this mean we’ve been lied to about the whole falcon and winter soldier tv show? is it actually a captain america and winter soldier show?)

i think bucky knew what steve’s plans were, though it would’ve been nice to have some on-screen confirmation. i think that’s why he seemed relieved that steve was sitting on the bench; he knew what steve was going to do and was glad he’d lived long enough to pass the torch once and for all

HOWEVER, the time anomalies i mentioned:

peggy carter’s established timeline is broken

does sharon carter exist? if yes, does this timeline’s steve rogers still make out with her

if steve goes into the past, the steve that he already was and his whole existence in the 21st century will still happen. that means he’ll look for peggy. that means he’ll find her. with him. in the future/present. steve is therefore made aware of the future - would that then effect how he acts with civil war/infinity war etc? would that then erase the events that happened, limiting steve from going back?

does he tell anyone that hydra is in shield

does he get bucky the fuck out of hydra or does he let his best friend be tortured for 70 years

i think bucky should’ve been a part of the sam/captain america torch conversation. if only because steve’s narrative has focused around bucky since 2011 and it ends with a don’t do anything stupid while i’m gone / you’re taking all the stupid with you - that’s not a satisfactory ending lads

much of me thinks steve and tony’s outcomes should’ve been switched. tony wants a quiet life, steve has said many times that he can’t imagine giving up the fight, living as a civilian in obscurity. i think it’s a cruel way to end it.

plus steve is ALWAYS the one making speeches about sacrifice, but he’s never the one to actually make the sacrifice. it’s always tony.

i’m happy for steve, i am.

i think i’d just be happier if morgan could grow up with her father and if pepper wasn’t a single parent and peter didn’t have to navigate the rest of his life - super powered and not - alone

side note, far from home taking place a week after endgame: nick fury wasted no fucking time jumping on spiderman. like, tony absolutely protected him from fury before infinity war, and the dude’s barely buried and fury’s making his move on peter - not cool

anyway, i genuinely did enjoy the film. i find it incredibly difficult to believe this was shot immediately after infinity war because the tone is so different, and i was remembering all those photos we had from reshoots and realised none of those scenes made it in the final cut. 

it was a good film. probably the most emotionally mature of the mcu. not my favourite. i’m angry about the ending. nebula should’ve killed thanos at least once. cool that gamora’s back. sad about nat. devastated about tony. happy for steve on the surface, until i spend 2 seconds looking deeper. loki’s probably alive because the timeline changed and they replaced the tesseract in 1970, not 2012, so officially, loki never goes to asgard jail anymore

but for real: how does steve replace the tesseract in the past when it’s now the space stone? how does he get that past anyone at all?

edit: I SOMEHOW forgot about rescue, the moment i’ve been waiting for for a decade

i love her, i love the suit, i love the pepper was incredibly badass with it with zero hesitation. i wish someone had said the name rescue like i wish someone had said captain marvel - but no dice. it’s such a rad suit and seeing her and tony fight side by side was so cool

edit 2 bc im a dumbass: CLINT MY ARROW BOY I LOVE YOU, YOU GOT ALL THE SCREENTIME U FUCKIN DESERVED

[ohstardust]

Still Wish You'd Speak Your Mind

Summary: Standing atop a too tall building, chain smoking away hurt, denial and regret, only hurts more when you're faced with the root of the problem. Sebastian thought he'd made the right decision, Amber thought it was the wrong one, and both ended up hurt. Blinking out into the diminishing skyline she took another drag, she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, her teeth working furiously over the skin around her thumb and she was so sure she was going to throw up. She didn’t want this, not today, not after a few glasses of wine, not when she’d spent all evening chain smoking his favourite cigarettes.

A/N: I wrote this a couple of years ago about Jack Lowden, but I rejigged it to make it about Sebastian in hopes more people will read it. It's one of my favourite things that I've written so I hope you enjoy my sleep deprived, angst fuelled, writing. Title: We Need A Word by We Are Scientists (Strongly recommend listening to this whilst reading)

“What are you doing here?” All it took was the rhythm of his footsteps and his presence, at this stupid party, to know it was him. She hadn’t dared to glance back him. Her eyes focused on the setting sun of the late summer’s evening, the horizon a bold fusion of multiple pink and purple hues. It would have been beautiful if she wasn’t tired, pissed off and frustrated.

Amber placed the cigarette between her lips and inhaled, her eyes unfocused before softly closing and she exhaled. Sebastian’s throat cleared and she could hear him nervously licking his lips, mouth dry and nervous, sounds she was all too familiar with, “Chace invited me, I’ve just finished filming.” His voice stuttered out small and it made her heart clench slightly until she quickly reminded her heart that he was to blame, he was the one who ruined everything. “Right, it’s probably me who shouldn’t be here,” she flicked the ash onto the ground below her and settled firmly against the railing on the building’s communal roof terrace. “I didn’t say that.” “You thought it though, didn’t you? Thought how I shouldn’t be encroaching into your personal life anymore than I already have done, thought that I should have cut ties with all of our friends because you knew them first?” She began chewing on her thumb, a horrible habit she couldn’t shake when nervous, just another bad habit in her ever-growing list. Like smoking, a habit she’d picked up from Sebastian many moons ago. “You know I’d never expect, or even think, of that.” “I’m not sure what I know anymore, everything I thought I understood, and believed, turned out to be utter shit, didn’t it?” “I never lied to you.” His hands scrubbed over his face, missing his beard that he’d shaved off yesterday and feeling bare without it. “The whole thing was a lie Sebastian, it had to be. You couldn’t just do that to someone you loved.” “Don’t make it past tense.” Amber’s voice raised in annoyance, sure that there must be some hidden agenda or he was just playing with her for fun, because this was beyond cruel, “Don’t you dare, you didn’t mean it then and you don’t mean it now.” “Will you at least look at me?” She wasn’t sure whether she was too furious to face him, or if she knew herself too well, knew that her resolve would break and she’d crumble. He’d always had that effect on her. Amber had known him for eight years and she caved every time he asked her to do something, or say something, or to even look at him. Her problem had always been being unable to say no to him. Blinking out into the diminishing skyline she took another drag, she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, her teeth working furiously over the skin around her thumb and she was so sure she was going to throw up. She didn’t want this, not today, not after a few glasses of wine, not when she’d spent all evening chain smoking his favourite cigarettes. Her heart was pounding in her ears, so loud that she jumped at the contact of Sebastian’s skin touching hers, his footsteps unheard. Amber’s first thought was to snatch her hand away from him, perhaps slap him and bruise his face like endless nights of crying and heartbreak had bruised her everything. Leave him with marks that matched the purple beneath her eyes that came from lack of sleep some months ago. It was the least he deserved. Instead she left it there for a few moments, curled with his and she gripped tight, those feelings flooding back to her of happiness, of her world that was once so consumed by him. Sebastian nudged her with his shoulder, unsure, and she briefly turned to meet his gaze. Amber’s first observation was how utterly tired he looked, she knew what long filming schedules looked like on him, the toll it took, but this seemed different, he seemed wrecked. And she despised how much she wanted to wrap him up her arms and hold him, let him rest on her for a while, because in this light, on this night, he looked like the Sebastian she first knew, the one she fell in love with. He looked so young and definitely not all of his thirty-some years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, if she hadn’t been paying such close attention, she’d have missed his words. “What are you apologising for?” “Us - everything. I’m sorry for being selfish and thinking I was making the right decision.” “And wasn’t it?” “We both know it wasn’t.” “I really don’t know that, it was your call to make. I didn’t ask you to choose, you gave yourself an ultimatum and you chose the outcome. I was the innocent bystander who got her world thrown upside down in the process.” “I know that, I really do.” “What hurts me the most is that you clearly didn’t trust that I’d stand by you. You thought I’d run at the first sign of trouble, you stupidly thought that I - what? Didn’t love you enough? Was me thinking that I was going to marry you not enough commitment and faith? Because that’s what I thought, I was so fucking naive Sebastian, I thought one day we’d be a family, we’d expand and we’d be happy.” Amber’s voice choked on the end of her sentence, her eyes were watering yet she refused to acknowledge the few tears that had slipped. She wanted him to know how much he’d hurt her, because apparently he didn’t realise how much she’d valued their relationship, and him. He raised his hand to her face, thumb jutting out to wipe away her tears, but she turned her head away from him. She wasn’t ready for that. “My parents have been asking about you,” she bitterly laughed, “think we’re still friends, didn’t have the heart to tell them otherwise. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that you didn’t choose me, that I wasn’t good enough.” His heart shattered as he heard the sobs she was trying so hard to suppress, “You were always good enough, too good. I was failing and I couldn’t give you what you deserved.” “Yet you thought I deserved all of this? C’mon Sebastian, that’s the oldest line in the book.” “I’m so fucking sorry,” he didn’t care that he was crying on his friends roof, or that he was breaking down in front of his ex-girlfriend, he couldn’t cope with what he’d done, how he’d absolutely ruined her. “You didn’t deserve any of this.” “Then why did you do it? I keep asking myself the same question and every time it’s my fault because I can’t imagine why else you’d have thrown four years away. Was I just good enough to keep the bed warm for the beginning of your career, until you’d advanced enough to get an upgrade?” Sebastian shook with his hurt, his tongue licking away his tears and he grabbed hold of her hands to make her face him, he had to tell her, “That night, the one before It all ended, the dinner and candles and everything, I was going to propose to you -“ a strangled sob escaped her throat, and if Sebastian hasn’t been holding her, she’d have buckled. “I was going to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me.” “I don’t understand, you just - you don’t - you don’t go from being ready to settle down with someone to ending the relationship twenty four hours later. Why didn’t you do it?” He’d spent countless nights going over this conversation in his head, over time there were multiple outcomes, some he could foresee and others not, right now he had no idea where he was going with this, or how she’d respond. He just knew that she had the right to hear this. “I received a film offer that day, and you had been telling me how nice it was to have me home for a while, and how much you’d missed me. I was so close to turning it down for you, and I suddenly panicked, I realised that I’d turn down any role for you, I’d end my career if you asked me to, and that terrified me. I’d worked so hard to get where I was and it felt wrong to view my career so flippantly.” “That’s not fair, I’d never have asked you to do those things, all I did was support you!” Sebastian flinched as Amber banged her hand down on the railing in anger, or rather frustration, she wasn’t quite sure how she was feeling at this moment, but whatever it was, it was strong. “I know! But what if more offers came through? If I spent more time away from home? If I hardly saw you? You can’t say that you wouldn’t resent me for that.” “Be that as it may, I loved you and that would have been enough for me. Now I just resent you for choosing your career over me, for thinking that we couldn’t all co-exist together. You and acting are a package deal, that’s what I signed up to the moment I met you.” He audibly swallowed and lowered his tone, ashamed, “I thought it was the right decision for both of us.” “You never should have made a decision on my behalf, you didn’t have the right to do that when it concerned my future too.” Sebastian was exhausted and he reluctantly rested his forehead on her shoulder. Against Amber’s better judgement, she raised her right arm to loop around his neck and pull him closer. She hated how he’d made her feel the past eight months, how wretched life without him had been, but her mind couldn’t stop playing out all their best times together, the laughter, the kisses, the sex, the love. Every positive thing their relationship had created in her mind. “I wish I could turn the clocks back and stop from making the stupidest decision of my life, but I can’t and I have to live with that.” “You do, and so do I,” her sigh was weak and void of any weight but she was tired of fighting, tired of hating him, or at least convincing herself that she did. Slowly she was beginning to understand why he did it, even if she didn’t agree, and it still infuriated her, “but maybe we can live through it together as friends.” “We’ll never be just friends again.” He briefly pressed his lips to her neck and dropped his head down again. “We can for now, I’m not saying you’re forgiven or that we can pick up where we left off, but we can be friends. If the future has different plans then so be it, but for now we can at least try to gain some semblance of normality because I really fucking miss you Stan.” “I really fucking miss you too, Thorne.”

[mirarelle]

Two years ago today was the start of the longest two weeks of my life, yet also the start of the shortest two years.

To think that it’s been that long, feels impossible; because almost every waking moment since, I haven’t been able to get it to leave my mind. It plays on repeat in my head, and I haven’t found a way yet to move on.

My mother’s death took something from me. My peace of mind, or maybe it took all the strength I truly had left, because asking anyone who knew me then who’s still with me now, knows I am not the same. During that time, I barely knew what to do with myself, and time barely moved, like it was a drawn out torture designed just for me, as selfish as that sounds. 

The only way I knew how to cope with any of it, and measure the passage of time, was to write it all down. Not every day had a lot, but it’s what I could get myself to put down in words in a time when I could barely form any.

Some may say it’s attention seeking, some may think it’s a dig at some people mentioned. But for me it’s to help show the feelings that have been sitting bottled up for far too long.

~*~20th 8am

It’s all so surreal. Like none of this is really happening. I see her there, but she’s not my mom. There are similarities; the same slender nose, her teeth are a familiar snaggle, the same blonde hair. But the pallor of her skin, the gaunt deathly pale of it, it’s aged her. She looks too close to death to be the lively woman I knew.

 The doctors keep speaking in ‘ifs’ and ‘whens’, not really saying anything that holds ground, because they can’t say for certain that anything good or bad will happen. They don’t want to make promises they can’t keep. Little do they know that what they are saying, therefore, can’t ease me.

 I need a definitive answer, I need something to hold on to. All I can do is pace, because I don’t know what will happen, and unlike some, I cannot hold onto the power of prayer to get me by. I’m depending on these doctors with no answers to make my mother well, not ‘God’. No, I can’t justify prayer when I feel like that being is not the cause or the relief of the pain and suffering my little bubble of the world is dealing with. Doctors however, they are solid, tangible, and doing everything they can to help my mother through this.

 It’s strange to me that in this time, even though I’m here supporting her, that even now my mind keeps wandering to the negatives. Like it’s searching for a reason to not care that she’s like this, when judging by the tears and the fear I am feeling, I undeniably do. But I keep reminding myself of the last incident I had in a hospital involving my mother. I was pregnant with Alice, induced and ready to burst, but being told that I would need a C section. At the news and while I was being prepped to go in, my mother who had been there most of the day, left. She “didn’t want to see her daughter cut up like that”, so she just left me. I, on the verge of going into a frightening operation I really didn’t want to get but had no choice in the matter; who wanted and needed the support, lay abandoned.

 I’d completely forgotten the event over time, but for some reason as I sat with her the first time yesterday, it came to me. I didn’t understand it. I don’t understand it. Right alongside the fear that while I’m sitting there it will turn into the first major scene that I wrote with Madison. Begging nurses and doctors to do something, to save her mom, like it’s a cruel joke to actually go through the emotions I faked so well. Like this is my fault for killing off the mother of a character I claimed to have modeled after myself. A woman who was a seamstress, not so unlike my own mother. A woman the daughter admired beyond all others.

 In my awkward sense of guilt, I feel like this is my fault even when I know it’s not. I didn’t put a tumor in my mother’s lungs. But how similar the two scenes are playing out, I can’t help it.

 ~*~ 20th 12:40pm

The Doctor came to talk to me around noon. He says to expect the worst, as if I hadn’t already mulled it over a million times with every other possible outcome. He called me pragmatic, the way I was able to keep a calm mind and sensible standpoint on the whole thing, meanwhile I’m internally berating myself for sounding like a cold, heartless bitch.

 And I finally found out why every nurse and doctor was skirting my question of how long she’d gone without a pulse. I’d asked more than once, but they could never give me a number.

 20. 20 minutes. It’s practically a death sentence. The brain is far away, and a loss of blood, and a weaker than required heartbeat... that is a recipe for brain damage.

 I hate thinking it. I hate knowing it. I hate ever having heard the numbers or the knowledge so I could remain blissfully hopeful and be more like everyone else.

 ~*~ 20th, 3pm

I'm starting to understand zombie movies better with all of this. Why it's so hard to shoot a loved one who's turned. It's easy to yell at the screen that the character is being stupid, but that's because we don't put ourselves in their shoes. Because you still see them, even if they aren't the same anymore, there is always the hope that they will be them again, what if they could get better? What if there’s a change and I'm pulling the trigger too soon? What if I'm forced to make that decision with my mom?... Could I pull the trigger?

Because as I sit here staring at this woman, realizing she might not be the same woman I knew last week, possibly barely human at all; I see my mother, and think she might just wake up and just start carrying on a conversation with me out of the blue like nothing ever happened. What I wouldn’t give for that to be possible… because I don't think I have the strength to do what would be necessary...

 ~*~20th 10pm

Since the incident, they had kept my mother on ice, letting her body heal while keeping her preserved I guess. But today they had been letting her warm up to see how her organs could handle it, if they could function properly at a regular temperature, to discover that she had a fever and immediately started to cool her again. They keep throwing numbers out there for a length of time, but the reality is that they don't know anymore than we do.

As I was coming to see her a final time before exhaustion could claim me, the phone happened to ring at the nurse's station. My Aunt Dawn whom I've never even really met spoke to me. I don't know the full details of the feud, but she was beside herself with grief I didn't expect from a woman who has never been in my mother's life for the entirety of my being. I didn’t know what to say to her except to explain.

The more the doctors come to me with the decisions and information, the more I can feel the stiffness in my family. Like I chose for this to happen or something. I’m not any more pleased I’m going through this experience than they are, but I’m doing it to the best of my ability. Taking it as it hits me, even if each impact feels like it’s chipping away at me, and their backhanded comments only make it worse.

Maybe if we find a will, it has someone else mentioned as power of attorney, maybe then they’ll be happy.

 ~*~21st 11am

They said that things are looking good, vitals are up. They won’t be taking her out of sedation until sometime between tonight and tomorrow, so I’m going to go home and take a much needed rest. I feel hollow. This whole experience is draining in a way I never thought I could have felt before.

 ~*~21st 4pm

This is so stupid. I’m waiting, pacing again, for John to come and get me because low and behold, they changed their damn minds and started bringing her out of sedation while I was at home sleeping. Why can’t they keep their fucking stories straight? Seriously. I feel like I’m going to miss her because they’re going to make a judgement call at 5 and I don’t know if John can make it here and back on time. I feel so helpless and trapped at their mercy. I knew I should have stayed.

~*~21st 5:30pm

We made it to her, but she wasn’t really all there. Her eyes kept rolling back into her head and she was sucking on her tube. Seeing her like this scares me, even knowing this isn’t her fully out of sedation, but seeing her weak and frail and dependent on others is a strange and very wrong sensation. My mother is strong and as independent as they come… Seeing her so small and helpless… It puts an ache in me that I can’t even describe.

 ~*~21st 10:30pm

We just missed her, apparently coherent, answering questions with nods, squeezing fingers and wiggling toes on cue. But Joey deserved something on his birthday, and they say they are trying again in the morning anyways. I get to go home again and spend some time with Josh. I feel like I haven’t seen him or Alice in weeks, yet it’s only been a few short days of this life of practically  living at the hospital. I can’t tell Alice what’s happening, and I know if I even start to try to tell her I’ll lose myself. I don’t want her to worry about me, and I don’t need to bog her down if this all ends better than my mind keeps trying to tell me it will.

 ~*~22nd 8:30 am

My mom saw me. The feeling of that is amazing, yet at the same time I feel like she didn't know who I was. Maybe I was just something for her to focus on. We noticed we were riling her up and decided it was best we let her be, the nurses saying they were going to try taking the breathing tube out soon anyways, then let the doctor do his rounds. It usually ends at 11:30ish anyways, so we’ll come back later.

 ~*~22nd 12pm

They’ve sedated her again. Reason? Because despite all the positive signs we thought we saw earlier, they were misconstrued. Yes, she has basic motor functions, but where they are looking for rational comprehension, the nurses were met with agitation and animalistic rage, that of someone whose brain has degenerated… Possibly beyond repair. They say they want to give her time to heal, but the reality might just be that that thrashing, wild, unresponsive being might be all we have left of her. And I don’t think I can handle that. 

 ~*~23rd 1pm

The worst news yet came today. Apparently my mother is suffering more than we knew. We learned that she has pneumonia in both of her lungs, her iv got infected and she now has sepsis, and the cherry on top: the tumour is a result of stage 3 lung cancer. All of that, and we still don't know what the limit of her brain function is yet. And treating the cancer? Near impossible. Due to location. Inoperable. Due to sepsis. No chemo. And radiation is merely a bandaid. And if she can't even breathe on her own, there's no point in trying…

Everything feels like it’s crashing down around me. With every new discovery I become more buried, and it’s suffocating me. I keep holing it up in myself other than to write it here, but I don’t know how to show it. I feel like I have to keep going, keep pushing it down because I’m the one that the decisions fall to. I have to show to everyone that I can handle this, but I really don’t know how much longer I can.

 ~*~24th 2am

Everyone keeps calling me strong, but I don't feel strong, I feel like a hack. I put on this mask of cold indifference but inside I'm a scared little girl who's afraid to lose her mother.

 ~*~24th 12pm

My family ganged up on me. They surrounded me like a pack of starving wolves would to vulnerable prey.

Pat has been my strength in all of this, my backbone, helping me get through things that nobody else wanted to step up and do. Things like making sure my mom’s bills got paid, and finding out about her disability checks. Things nobody wanted to accept needed to happen. Everyone thought my mom was going to walk out of the hospital the moment she showed signs of waking, not accepting the bigger picture.

Even if my mom had woken up, and started breathing on her own after three days, she still would have remained hospitalized. She has cancer. A full blown lung tumour. Let alone the part where her heart gave out. They would keep her around for observation while they looked into everything. But she wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of her finances, it would lean on someone else anyways.

But facts are, she’s not awake and her benefits run out next Monday. These are things that need to be taken care of now.

But no, they attack me, say I’m not focusing enough on my mom. But this is me focusing on my mom. This is me finding an outlet for the grief. Instead of standing around doing nothing, waiting for answers, I am finding goals that help her in whatever state she is or will be when this is all over.

And on top of that, they want to sever me from my support. They don’t want the one person giving a shit about me and understanding me in this to be around anymore. They think they know what’s best for me, but they don’t even know me.

I was so distraught by what they were doing that when I even started to give in just to make the pain of it stop, and my Aunt came at me for a hug, I squealed in anguish and crumpled in on myself yelling at her not to touch me. I was racked with fear and trembled anxiously for 5-10 minutes on the floor, hiding behind my chair.

I hate what this stress is doing to my sanity. I don’t feel real anymore. I don’t feel like a human roaming these halls. It’s becoming a blur of nothing and hopelessness with every unanswered question. Even when I sleep, I feel nothing, and like it’s made no difference when I wake.

 ~*~25th 1pm

They started bringing her off sedation again, and now it’s just a waiting game. I’m going to stay through the night so if she wakes, she won’t be alone.

Carolann and Auntie Darla came in today and my cousin and I finally started on my mother’s nails. It’s nice to see them clean and blood free for the first time since this began. We tried to get some colour on there, but it didn’t dry fast enough and got ruined by nurses moving her around. Maybe I’ll try again later. It feels wrong that they aren’t work ready and vibrant how she always kept them.

 ~*~26th 12:30am

I went for a walk around the hospital to ease my troubled mind, that and they were changing her bedding for her so we were kicked out.

I found a meditation circle around the side of the building with a small stone in the center. It had the word hope painted on it in yellow over a half sun.

I sat there for over an hour listening to music fighting back tears just trying to wrap my head around it all. It was peaceful where my mind wasn't. If all the noise in my head could have filled the silent night, it would have been deafening.

 ~*~26th 3:30am

I just switched out with John. I can’t keep my eyes open much longer. I hope I don’t miss her.

 ~*~27th 11am

Every day there is a small bazaar that pops up at the hospital, different knick knacks and jewelry. As if buying these random things will help us feel better somehow. I bought a ring, thinking of mom. I feel bad that I've bought this ring as a token to remember her by. To remind myself of this moment, of this suffering, so I can look at it and be forever reminded of what's taking place right now. But I feel like I need it, and I hate that that's where my mind is going when she's right upstairs. But truth be told, I know. I know that this only ends one way: badly.

 ~*~28th 8:45am

She's gone.

I don't feel human. I feel empty. Hollow. Listless. And yet I'm a ball of unrelenting energy unable to stop moving, fidgeting, calling, texting, needing that thing to keep me from thinking, from staying in the moment and being washed away by the tears that would surely drown me.

I felt like before, I was racing time, but now I feel like I'm swimming against the tide trying to sweep me away from her, but the water is too strong, and I can’t fight it anymore.

 ~*~28th 3pm - Facebook Post

For those who knew, my mother has been battling an unknown illness for a few months now. A week ago she entered St. Catherine's General for a routine test, and today, she is gone.

I don't even know where to begin in describing how I feel, how much I feel the loss. Only that I feel stripped of a major part of myself. Despite everything we put each other through, she was my mother. She was a main influence in everything I do and everything I am, and I will miss her every day. 

 ~*~ Oct 3rd, 2017 -  2pm - My Eulogy

Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love that you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in the hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go. - Jamie Anderson

Over the past two weeks, that quote couldn’t have rung truer in me. Sitting next to my mom feeling everything welling in me, and nowhere for it to go. Where everyone else’s feelings poured from them, special times to reminisce, memories once thought forgotten, even just a daily report to give to keep from silence, I could never find the words. And now that I finally have them, they sit heavy with regret in my chest.

For every whispered ‘goodbye’, was a masked ‘don’t leave me’, for every ‘I love you’, ‘I need you’, and for every moment of stunned silence were a thousand things I wish I’d said in its place.

To say she will be missed would be a lie. Because, the depth of which she touched people’s lives goes so much deeper. She will be mourned, and at times ached for with so much severity we can no longer draw in a breath to fill the void that she has left in us.

Over time, the pain may lessen, breathing come easier, and with each other we can fill the void again. Tell her stories, remember her jokes, and share the times that made her who she was to us.

So I will not miss her, but will look for her, and search her out in all of you, piece by piece.

~*~

 This was more than difficult to post. Two years of indecision. Two years of pain I kept to myself until it nearly drove me mad. Everything written was as it happened and as I felt it, and kept locked in a google document I never thought I would let see the light of day.

[esmiblood90irisglimmer]

The Black Swan Curse (Jeffmads)

For my good friend @bihamilove who needs cheering up

Madison POV

You may think all the fantasy and the fairy tale stories were nothing more than a myth. Childhood stories that would make us dreams of a special world filled with nothing but happiness. All the witches, warlock, and other mythical that everyone debate whether they’re or not. Well, I knew for a fact that all the mythical mention in many fiction novels are all real. How would I know well, let’s just say that when I was four years old. An elderly couple stop by our house during the harsh thunderstorm back then, they only asked for shelter just for the night. My father is a kind-hearted soul and was willing to help out the old couple but my mother was another story. She was quite selfish and cruel back then and she even admitted herself and regretted her action. Let’s just say that mother selfish attitude sends the old couple back outside in the cold and harsh rainstorm. Father nearly argue back with my own mother but suddenly the old elderly couple transforms into a young couple whom I believe are fairies. They looked very beautiful gorgeous but were furious at my mother for her wicked behavior.

For that, they punish her action by placing a curse on me by becoming a black swan. The only way that the curse can be lifted is that one day. That until when my 18th birthday arrives and that I’ll find true love and my first kiss will expel the curse. As if, that would most likely ever happen since I swing toward the other team if you catch my drift. I’ve been eyeing on Thomas Jefferson for as long I can remember since we practically grew up together. Despite being two years younger than him but he’s one of my closest friend I ever had. Minus Hamilton but he and Jefferson don’t exactly get along the best way but they're keeping their arguments a minimum. Well, not trying to get off sidetrack by the fact that I’m cursed of being a black swan.

It was hard for my parents to deal with this curse mostly for my father who hasn’t spoken to my mother since the incident. I can’t blame him but then again it’s been almost fourteen years when I was cursed. All I want is to see my parent happily talking once more. Well, all I ever wanted to spend the rest of my life with Thomas but that’s impossible. Wonder how I know it’s impossible for me and him to be together forever well for one thing. Curse being a black swan during the daytime while during the night. I’m my normal human self in which cost me to be homeschool and take late online classes. I lost my sweet childhood because of this stupid curse. Why didn’t the fairies curse my mother instead of me as her punishment?

....How did I end up acting so cruel to my mother?... Feeling tears streaming down my face while walking to the center of the small homemade pond. My father builds this beautiful pond hidden away from other where my transformation would be unseen. Touching the small necklace that Jefferson has given me a couple hours ago before running away back home. I still remember that moment but was nervous about what Jefferson was about to say next.

Three hours ago

Thomas and I were walking in the forest late at night once again despite his parents forbidding him to do so. Like always, my Tommy always disobeys his parents' wishes since they are a bit of a snob, no offenses taken. Just saying the truth and even Tommy admits it himself even though he can be a snob himself. But at least, he has some class just a tiny bit. Anyway, we were walking through the trails while holding hands like we usually do as friends. Even though just holding his hand in the forest makes my heart skip a beat or so. This is the only time where I got to spend any nights with Thomas in our secret trails. Leaning against his arm while blushing furiously as I felt my face turning all red.

I heard Thomas chuckling for a bit before speaking,  “You’re so cute when you blush Jemmy”

“I’m...I’m not...I’m not that cute, Tommy” I replied while blushing

“You are to me and just only me”

I began blushing even more before hiding my hide between hands which only to hear  Thomas laughing. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders before continuing to lead me through the trails. The secret trail in the forest usually starts from my homemade to an actual pond that hidden away from society and planted into the world of mother nature. It’s a special place for both me and Thomas since it was our own little world where we can be ourselves without being judged. That is until I’ve forgotten that the sun was almost rising up in the skies. Though I still had an extra hour left but couldn’t take the risk of Thomas seeing me transforming into a swan.

About to run away but Thomas suddenly grabbed my hand for the time being before pulling me into his arms. I began blushing once again as my heart was pounding against my chest. I felt his heart pounding at the same pace and rhythm as my own. Wasn’t sure what I was expecting but feeling Thomas pressing his lips against my own forehead. My heart immediately skip a beat or two as he did that because Tommy never did that before. I didn’t know what to do until I saw him pulling a jewelry out of his pocket. It was a golden necklace with a black swan as the centerpiece, Thomas gently place the item onto me. Seeing him genuine smile at you but it was a different smile that I couldn’t put on the tip of my finger.

“Happy 18th Birthday Jemmy. I’m very grateful to spend my entire childhood and my teenage years with you” Thomas confess

“...Tommy...” I whisper

“James Madison, there something I have been meaning to tell you but I just couldn’t express them until now...I wouldn’t know how to continue my life if I haven’t met you.  Ja...James...I”

“Thomas...please...don’t...don’t say it” I interrupted him

“But I must James...I can keep this quiet any longer than I’ve already had”

I know, many of you are thinking that I’m crazy for Thomas finally confessing his love for me. Its just...I’m afraid that once the curse is lifted. I fear that my beloved Thomas assumes that I use him to lift up the curse and never speak to me again. I couldn’t bare suffering a heartbreak nor lose my beloved Thomas for the rest of my existence. Looking away with tears threatening to leave my eyes but kept pushing them back. I couldn’t face him directly before running away from Thomas sight. I heard him calling my name repeatedly but I didn’t stop. I just kept on running nonstop until reaching my homemade pond.

Flashback ended

After that incident, I didn’t know if Thomas has followed me but that doesn’t since the morning sun has already arrived. The water began swirling around me causing me to change from my human self into my current black swan self. Slightly splashing the water around me as I slowly float around the homemade pond. It wasn’t really boring being a swan since I enjoy flying around the forest and headed to mine and Thomas secret pond. Though I couldn’t do that today since at any moment Thomas would be arriving in his I doubt since I completely blow him off. It’s better that way so that my darling Thomas can move on and have a wife and children of his own. My heart may be broken and shattered just of him marrying someone else but I’m willing to make that sacrifice.

There always consequence for each curse since that’s how the world works in its own twisted way. The fairies told my parents that if the curse wasn’t lifted before the morning after my birthday I shall remind as a black swan forever. Well, I have nothing better to do as a human being so might as well live the rest of my life as a bird that would be worth nothing toward other humans. As I sadly swim around the pond, I hear footstep within the distance. The fear within was starting to consume within me for a second until around of the bushes was only Thomas. I saw the desperation in his eyes that he has been looking for me. Expect, he found me but only as a swan which I saw him a depressing smile.

“It’s you again, my little swan,” he said before sitting in front of the pond watching me. Oh, would I love to speak to me but no words would escape from my beak. Just only an annoying sound so I stay silent. Thomas has come to see my father homemade pond and was impressed by it. He never figures it out that the black swan he made with it is actually me. I knew that Thomas is fond of birds since he uses to have one as a pet while we were children. Though it died by natural cause it was a depressing moment for Tommy. Though now, he has me...as a friend I believe hopefully. By instinct, I reach out to him before feeling his hand gently petting me on the head.

“Oh, my little swan. I wish you knew where James went. I wanted to confess my love to him but he ran off. I wonder if I was too straightforward with my love confession toward him?” he asks

Shaking my small swan head softly letting him that he wasn’t being straightforward. I overreacted but I could bare a heartbreak after he finds out the truth or may never ever see me again as a human. Shaking those thoughts away as Thomas depressing smile lighten up a bit. I always knew how to cheer him even in my state being a swan it wasn’t that hard communicating with him. Thomas spirit was lifted up a bit before deciding to sketch of me once again. He usually does this whenever he was waiting for  “me” to arrive school from my “boarding school”. I despise lying to Thomas every single day and night but it must be done no matter what. Well no more, tonight is the night is where I come clean toward Thomas and tell him everything. Even the outcome may be resulted in him hating me for the rest of my life but..I’m ready for it.

Hours Later

It was already reaching sunset in which it’s mean that any moment the full moon would rise up in the skies. My heart was pounding against my chest due to fear that Thomas will finally know my secret. If you’re wondering where Thomas well, he’s still here waiting for me in front of me while pulling off the flower petals. I can still see the depression in his eyes after I ran away from him during his love confession. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake when I have done that betrayal and breaking his heart. I hope Thomas isn’t too angry with me once the moon started rising up. My stomach started to turn into knots along with my other organs. I saw Thomas grabbing another flower before pulling it petals as well. I swear I never meant for this to happen but I let it happen.

Lowering my head in shame and regretted that I have broken Thomas heart in fear that he may break my heart. I was being selfish and afraid of falling in love because of this damn curse!!... I won’t let this curse get to me ever again. I want to be with Thomas but I’m also willing to be a swan for the rest of my life as well.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it my little swan? I knew that James would love seeing the Moon at the moment. It’s should be a high full moon in any second”

He’s right, I love seeing the moon rising high up in the skies since now, he can finally see that the black swan is actually me. Once the moon reflection hits the center of the pond is when it’s started glowing. This freak Thomas out for a moment when seeing the water swirling around me once again but transforming into my human form. Soon it took a little while longer than usual but I didn’t mind at all. I couldn’t bear the thought wondering of what would be Thomas expression would be once he sees me. The transformation finally finishes the water land back into the small pond where the water itself was slowing itself down.

Slowly opening my eyes as I saw the shock expression on Thomas that was mix with confused and stunned. My vision suddenly clean only to see that I’m wearing a gown made with black feathers. I was amazed by how this dress was made just by the transformation since it never happened before. That’s not the point, all I saw is Thomas standing in front of me speechless and frozen. We stood there staring at each other for what seem to be hours but actually only five minutes. I look away in with shame and embarrassment with tears threatening to stream down my face.

“James...is it really you?” Thomas question

“Y...y....yes” I stuttered

“The entire time you were...the black swan?”

“...Yes...”

I still didn’t dare to look at Thomas not knowing what to expect until I heard him running into the pond. Barely lifting my head only to be pulled into his arms once again, hugging me tightly as if I were a rare gem. Shedding a few tears before hugging him back while sobbing for the time being. My beloved didn’t dare to release me from his arms but kept a distance from us. He gently stroked my cheeks as Thomas shed a few tears of his own. Kissing my cheeks, nose, and my forehead before hugging me tightly once again.

“I thought I lost you forever” he confesses

“Thomas...I’m so sorry that I ran away from you. I was a coward...since what you saw...thought you would hate me. I couldn’t bear the thought of a broken heart...but you’re the suffering it instead of me”

“My dear, James. I could never hate since you’re the kindest and generous person I’ve ever met in my entire life. I’m willing to marry you even after confessing my love to you since we’re meant to be together”

“...Thomas...how could you love someone that is curse?...A curse that can only be broken by a true love first kiss....”

“Well, my dear James do love me?, Cause I love you and I’ll do anything to lift up your curse”

Tears were streaming down my face for joy before hugging him tightly before he lifts me up in the air before spinning us around. We laugh a little for a bit until we settle down after celebrating our love for each other. Thomas lightly places his hand onto my cheek before staring deeply into my eyes own. My heart flutter as I giggle shyly before I even notice how close our lips were.

“A true love kiss lifts up the curse. Then I, my dear James shall be your true love first kiss” Thomas spoke before placing his lips on my own. 

Wrapping my arms around his neck as this kiss blossom from affection to romance. The feeling of having Thomas’ lips on my own felt so right as if he’s my soulmate the I’ve been searching for many years. Yet, here we are kissing in the center of the small pond sharing our first kiss. A warm and electrifying feeling flew the courses of our bodies. For a moment, I actually thought we were flying in the air, silly I know. But, it was so magical and romantic that this is the first time I’ve ever true love within me.

I assume that I would never find true love and I didn’t. Instead, true love has found me instead along with Thomas who didn’t care if I was cursed or not. We just wanted to be together forever. Slowly breaking the kiss before hugging each other it felt pure bliss. I wish it would never end but suddenly I remember the curse...was it lifted? I’m afraid that maybe Thomas and I are too late but then again...I could be wrong though but I’m afraid.

But those fears were brushed away when Thomas and I both notice that the homemade pond my father built was suddenly replaced with a ravishing garden. I always wanted a beautiful but father all his saving for the pond when I was cursed. Though I still don’t know that is until a small golden light orb that appears before us. And I knew, I instantly knew that it wasn’t an ordinary an orb, it was the spirit of the black swan that was curse into me since I was four years old. Now the black swan curse has finally been lifted on my 18th birthday with a true love kiss. I shall treasure each moment and every day I spend with my beloved Thomas Jefferson through life and death itself.

Sorry if this was too long

[wendynerdwrites]

Meta Repost #1: The Trident Fight: Why We Need to Stop Blaming Little Girls and Start Blaming Irresponsible Adults and the Awful Society They Perpetuate

It’s back!

I feel embarrassed that I feel the need to discuss the Trident scene in a meta at this point in time. It’s been four books and nearly twenty years since George R.R. Martin wrote the damn thing, and yet people still keep bringing this up as not only A defining moment for certain characters, but THE defining moment for certain characters. Especially for Sansa.

This is wrong. The person to be angry at isn’t Sansa or her sister. While both girls can get blamed for this event, Sansa tends to get the bulk of fandom hatred for the events that led to the death of Lady. I want to focus on why this viewpoint is wrong.

It’s just that so many of the mentions of the fight at the Trident between Arya and Joffrey, Sansa’s reaction, and the fallout are so often used to make really bad arguments. And, in fact, the whole instance is just misinterpreted a lot.

Usually, the Trident and subsequent hearing is often cited when people want to argue that Sansa Stark hates her sister, or Sansa was weak and stupid, or Sansa was super-duper-evil-selfish-and-wanted-to-throw-her-sister-under-the-bus-just-so-she-could-wear-a-tiara-and-was-willing-to-betray-everyone-to-do-it-and-also-she-is-probably-a-secret-Nazi-and-the-writer-of-High-School-Musical. Sansa has no honor. Sansa cared more about being a princess and impressing her crush than she did about anything. Arya is awesome and Sansa is the worst and here’s why. Sansa utterly betrayed Arya. Sansa was stupid. Sansa should have told the truth and she didn’t so she is the worst.

Okay, so everyone? Sansa may have actually done Arya a huge solid by saying she didn’t remember. It’s likely that her answer of “I don’t know, I don’t remember” was the best thing she could have done for not only her well-being, but Arya’s as well. The person who failed Arya wasn’t Sansa, it was Ned.

No, seriously. Hear me out on this one.

Now, a few things off the bat I want to establish: 1) Joffrey Baratheon was a sadistic little boy who attacked Mycah out of the desire to see him bleed. He got off on the suffering of others and that was his intention all along. 2) Yes, Sansa did often resent and antagonize her sister. I know that Jeyne Poole came up with the “Arya Horseface” name and that we don’t actually see Sansa use it. However, the fact that the name became wide-spread enough for people to remember it, and that Theon would have made the mistake that the name came from Sansa does indicate that she either used it herself or at least gave it enough of a blessing to allow that name to continue. As a huge Sansa fan, I have to say that in my opinion, Sansa’s lowest point as a character was her rant to Arya about how she should marry Hodor because she’s “stupid and ugly.” Sansa bullied Arya. Not all the time (and certainly not to the extent that some people claim), but it did happen. It was wrong and messed up, but it is true. 3) The relationship between the two sisters was seriously strained. 4) Arya was trying to defend her friend and what happened at the Trident was horrible and not her fault. 5) Yes, Sansa blinded herself to Joffrey’s cruelty in AGOT. She blamed Arya for the incident unfairly.

6) Up until the Trident fight, Sansa had no way of knowing Joffrey wasn’t Prince Charming.

7) Arya also had a tendency to antagonize and resent her sister unfairly. Why? Because that’s what siblings DO. Also, she’s a child. Kids can be dicks. Arya is not exempt from this. Because she’s a child. Sansa, being older and more capable of fitting into the social roles of her family, was in a position to do more damage to her sister. However, she was more or less actively encouraged to pick on her sister. Both girls were pitted against each other. Their primary caretaker, Septa Mordane, often made nasty comments about Arya while making rude comparisons to Sansa “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith”, etc. This happened CONSTANTLY. Sansa’s bullying of Arya was reinforced from all sides by their authority figures and the society they lived in. Arya’s resentment of Sansa, therefore, was likewise reinforced. The two fought in almost every interaction we see between them, partly because most of their interactions occur after the Trident. Their memories in later books are kinder. They used each other as outlets for their hurt feelings and acted out at one another. Because they’re children. It’s just that Sansa’s poor treatment of Arya was informed and reinforced by the abusive system they lived in. That is not Sansa’s fault. It doesn’t make what she did RIGHT, but it is the source of a lot of the emotional damage done to both girls and did insure that their relationship reached such an antagonistic level. Arya’s resentment towards her sister was also informed by the system in which they lived. 8) It doesn’t matter what Joffrey’s motives were in attacking Mycah. Not at all. At least, it doesn’t matter when it comes to the outcome or the reaction. Joffrey was always going to get off scot free for what happened. 9) Sansa and Joffrey were betrothed. It was considered a binding arrangement. Marriage was a system of ownership in Westeros. The husband owned his wife (they put it in kinder terms, but let’s not white-wash things here. Women were property. Husbands had legal rights to abuse, rape, command, control, imprison, and in some instances even kill their wives) 10) Joffrey was also the future king, giving him even greater authority over others. The common husband, according to TWOIAF, was allowed to beat his wife with seven strokes of a rod as wide as his thumb. Joffrey, as king, was allowed to order Sansa to be “beaten bloody” and stripped in front of the court. King Aerys Targaryen got away with raping, burning, and abusing his wife, Queen Rhaella. Aegon the Unworthy was allowed to systematically abuse and rape Queen Naerys and took joy in endangering their son (a story Sansa was intimately familiar with). Maegor the Cruel was able to kill multiple wives for not giving him an heir (another story Sansa would have known well). Baelor the Blessed imprisoned his sister-wives (another story Sansa definitely knew) Rhaegar Targaryen was only prince and still was able to abandon his wife for a younger woman and carry off Lyanna Stark. While Rhaegar DID NOT get away with this, it was only because of the huge war and rebellion that took place after. If Robert’s Rebellion hadn’t succeeded, Rhaegar likely would have gotten away with it. When a complaint was lodged against Aerys, the man set Lyanna’s father and brother on fire. Elia Martell and her children, left behind in the Red Keep by her husband, were brutally murdered and neglected more or less. Lyanna Stark died. Another story Sansa would have known VERY WELL. 11) Westeros is a country with a majorly divisive feudal, caste system. Highborn girls like Arya playing around with the sons of butchers was a HUGE breach of custom. The rights and safety of someone like Mycah didn’t matter to those in power. While Winterfell might have been an environment where Arya could have been “underfoot” and played with the children of the cooks and smiths, this was in no way the norm. Girls like her were encouraged and expected to consort with other girls of nobility or some sort of higher social status. For a “butcher’s boy” like Mycah, playing with the daughter of a Lord Paramount and the Hand of the King would have been considered him going above his station. It’s also a place where highborn people constantly get away with abusing and even killing common folk. Furthermore, “respect to one’s betters”, i.e., people of higher social standing, was expected and could be punished to the Nth degree. 12) Westeros is also a society that brainwashes young women to believe that it is their duty to accommodate their husbands at every turn. Ladies obey and please their lords, and to fail or resist is a dereliction of duty. 13) Westeros is also a society that encourages ideas of chivalry, of highborn men saving innocent women and children, often from monsters or evil lords or, on occasion, “common peasants.” 14) Arya was breaking more than one rule when she was playing with Mycah at the Trident. 15) (Controversial opinions time) Ned Stark is a really bad parent and shoulders quite a bit of the blame for what happened. Arya and Sansa are both little girls put in an awful situation. Their father utterly failed to handle it. None of this would have happened if Ned Stark wasn’t impressively negligent. I know people give him a lot of (deserved) crap for how he handled himself in King’s Landing vis a vis Cersei and the court, but I don’t see him called out for this shit enough. He’s no Tywin Lannister, but he still utterly shit the bed as a father to his daughters.

Okay, so with all of that background, let’s talk about that day and the morning after. I’m going to focus on this sequence of events in particular:

1) The events of Sansa I, where Sansa and Arya have an argument, Sansa encounters Ser Illyn and the Hound, spends the day with Joffrey, and the incident at the Trident happens 2) The events of Eddard III, the hearing and execution of Lady.

By the time we get to Sansa I, we know that Arya’s seen Joffrey act like a real dick. The fight with Robb showed her that Joffrey was a petulant brat, something Sansa didn’t witness. The only criticism Sansa’s heard of Joffrey thus far is, “Jon says he looks like a girl” per Arya I. Sansa’s interactions with her future husband so far have indicated that he’s polite. Also according to Arya I, he told Sansa that she was beautiful and gave every impression of being “gallant.”

Sansa’s been trained to be the perfect lady and wife, and to believe in romance, but also to accommodate royalty and men, as is her duty.

It was a great honor to ride with the queen, and besides, Prince Joffrey might be there. Her betrothed. Just thinking it made her feel a strange fluttering inside, even though they were not to marry for years and years. Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold. She treasured every chance to spend time with him, few as they were. —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Then there is Arya.

The only thing that scared her about today was Arya. Arya had a way of ruining everything. You never knew what she would do. — Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Now, granted, this seems kind of a dick thing to say. But the problem is… Sansa is sort of right? In a way? Sort of. As much fun as Arya is, there is a good reason Sansa has to worry about Arya misbehaving and/or embarrassing her. Take this passage of Arya I, for example:

“What are you talking about?” Arya asked suddenly. Jeyne gave her a startled look, then giggled. Sansa looked abashed. Beth blushed. No one answered. “Tell me,” Arya said. Jeyne glanced over to make certain that Septa Mordane was not listening. Myrcella said something then, and the septa laughed along with the rest of the ladies. “We were talking about the prince,” Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss…… “He’s going to marry her,” little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. “Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm.” Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment. “Beth, you shouldn’t make up stories,” Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. “What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He’s very gallant, don’t you think?” “Jon says he looks like a girl,” Arya said. Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.” “He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room. Septa Mordane raised her eyes. She had a bony face, sharp eyes, and a thin lipless mouth made for frowning. It was frowning now. “What are you talking about, children?” “Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise. She smiled for the septa. “Arya and I were remarking on how pleased we were to have the princess with us today,” she said. Septa Mordane nodded. “Indeed. A great honor for us all.” Princess Myrcella smiled uncertainly at the compliment. “Arya, why aren’t you at work?” the septa asked. She rose to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. “Let me see your stitches.” Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa’s attention. “Here,” she said, surrendering up her work. The septa examined the fabric. “Arya, Arya, Arya,” she said. “This will not do. This will not do at all.” Everyone was looking at her. It was too much. Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sister’s disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf. Even Princess Myrcella looked sorry for her. Arya felt tears filling her eyes. She pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door. —Arya I, A Game of Thrones

I hate to tell you this, guys, but that’s the sort of thing that WOULD give a person a good reason to worry. Arya interrupted a private conversation about Joffrey. She insulted the crown prince in front of his sister. She attracted the attention of Septa Mordane (something she blames Sansa for, which, you know, is wrong. “Her voice cut through the quiet of the tower room” while Sansa had been trying to keep things quiet). Sansa actually covers for her when Mordane comes over and asks what they’re talking about, being courteous and pretending that Arya did the opposite of insult royalty. Then Arya gets reprimanded and she cries and runs from the room. So yes, sorry, Sansa does have a reason to worry about Arya turning things into a fiasco. She of course does it in the most resentful, pre-teen way possible, but her worry isn’t exactly unfounded.

But back to Sansa I.

She found Arya on the banks of the Trident, trying to hold Nymeria still while she brushed dried mud from her fur. The direwolf was not enjoying the process. Arya was wearing the same riding leathers she had worn yesterday and the day before. “You better put on something pretty,” Sansa told her. “Septa Mordane said so. We’re traveling in the queen’s wheelhouse with Princess Myrcella today.” “I’m not,” Arya said, trying to brush a tangle out of Nymeria’s matted grey fur. “Mycah and I are going to ride “upstream and look for rubies at the ford.” “Rubies,” Sansa said, lost. “What rubies?” Arya gave her a look like she was so stupid. “Rhaegar’s rubies. This is where King Robert killed him and won the crown.” Sansa regarded her scrawny little sister in disbelief. “You can’t look for rubies, the princess is expecting us. The queen invited us both.” –Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Okay, so this isn’t great. The royal family invited both girls to ride with them. And yes, this is, as Sansa says, a great honor. It’s also pretty important for her future. Joffrey is her betrothed, Cersei her future mother-in-law. Making them happy will greatly affect her future. While Sansa’s determination to be “in love” with Joffrey does seem silly to a modern reader, there’s a very good reason for it. The second part of Bluecichlid’s excellent series of metas covered this pretty well. Joffrey is her future: her future monarch and her future owner. Both Cersei and Joffrey are going to be major influences on her for the rest of her life.

It’s better for her psychological well-being to believe that Joffrey is “all she ever dreamt her prince should be.” If not, well, the young man her father sold her to is a bust, and so is the rest of her life. Betrothals were considered VERY binding, marriage even more so. So yes, a lot is riding on Sansa impressing and pleasing the Lannister-Baratheon clan, including the wife of her monarch. Her well-being could very likely be shaped by the impression she gives now.

And then there’s Arya, who wants to snub the honor of Cersei’s invitation, covered in mud, and saying things like this:

“I don’t like the queen,” Arya said casually. Sansa sucked in her breath, shocked that even Arya would say such a thing, but her sister prattled on, heedless. “She won’t even let me bring Nymeria.” She thrust the brush under her belt and stalked her wolf. Nymeria watched her approach warily. “A royal wheelhouse is no place for a wolf,” Sansa said. “And Princess Myrcella is afraid of them, you know that.” “Myrcella is a little baby.” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Remember, her sister also decided to mention aloud that their half-brother said that Joffrey looks like a girl in a room where Joffrey’s sister was sitting. So yes, Sansa’s frustration and fear is pretty warranted. As far as she knows, her entire future could be at least partially determined by the impression she makes on the Lannisters today (it is, as it turns out, just not in the way she expects). She’s an eleven-year-old girl who is looking at a future in a high-profile position as the wife, partner, and property of an extremely powerful person whom she doesn’t know very well. That is a ridiculous amount of pressure for a young girl to be under.

If Arya causes trouble, it isn’t just some brief embarrassment Sansa has to worry about. It’s her entire future and position.

So, keeping that in mind, there’s also this:

One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse. Then it turned out the purple flowers were called poison kisses, and Arya got a rash on her arms. Sansa would have thought that might have taught her a lesson, but Arya laughed about it, and the next day she rubbed mud all over her arms like some ignorant bog woman just because her friend Mycah told her it would stop the itching. She had bruises on her arms and shoulders too, dark purple welts and faded green-and-yellow splotches; Sansa had seen them when her sister undressed for sleep. How she had gotten those only the seven gods knew. —- Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

And this:

“You’re not supposed to leave the column,” Sansa reminded her. “Father said so.” Arya shrugged. “I didn’t go far. Anyway, Nymeria was with me the whole time. I don’t always go off, either. Sometimes it’s fun just to ride along with the wagons and talk to people.”” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Okay, so sorry guys, but Sansa’s actually totally right that her father should have told Arya to behave. And then enforced that. Especially after the flower incident. The fact that Ned didn’t take that as a warning and instead just smiled and allowed his daughter to continue breaking rules and direct orders is kind of… Super shitty parenting.

Yes, Arya got some flowers that just gave her a rash. But the next day? It could have been flowers that give her an even bigger rash and an infection that requires a medieval amputation. Arya’s not exactly kept things hygienic in an already bath-phobic society. The fact that Arya was rubbing fucking MUD on her skin inflammation… Yeah…

Of course Arya does this stuff. She’s an energetic kid who likes to have fun. She’s going to want to do these things. She’s got this cool older friend who told her that helps the itching. She prefers hanging out with her exploration buddy. Especially since every time she tries to join the sewing circle like a “proper lady”, she inevitably gets Septa Mordane on her ass insulting her in front of her peers.

But, you see, that’s sort of why Ned has a job to do, one he’s not doing. He’s left his daughters to a caretaker that neglects and emotionally abuses the younger one. And then doesn’t do much to protect his daughter and/or keep her from running around random countryside where she’s already encountered POISON FLOWERS. He doesn’t take the Poison Kisses as an indicator that MAYBE he should at least send a guard with Arya when she goes on these little expeditions.

And no, having her run around with a temperamental direwolf doesn’t count. Neither does having her run around with the kid who told her to rub mud into her rash.

Okay, so Sansa’s got her sister defying orders, bringing home poison flowers, covering herself in mud and bruises, insulting Sansa’s future royal in laws, and announcing plans to snub the queen. The queen. The mother of the future king Sansa is going to marry and, once again, BE LEGALLY OWNED BY.

And for the record, Sansa does try to coax her sister by promising cake and feather pillows and lack of mud-covered poison rashes. That was Arya’s cue to insult the queen.

So, now, completely humiliated, faced with having to tell her future mother in law that “I know that you invited us to come and spend the day with you, but my sister decided to go look for rubies in a lake with a boy that smells like dead meat instead. Have I told you how great an honor it is that you invited us? I can’t wait to join your family.”

Is it any surprise that minutes later, upon meeting Illyn Payne, she has a panic attack?

She heard the queen say, “Joffrey, go to her.” And her prince was there. “Leave her alone,” Joffrey said. He stood over her, beautiful in blue wool and black leather, his golden curls shining in the sun like a crown. He gave her his hand, drew her to her feet. “What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that’s all.” He looked at Sandor Clegane. “And you, dog, away with you, you’re scaring my betrothed.” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Yeah, there’s Joffrey, looking cute and telling people who are scaring her to stop freaking her out.

Then this happens:

“Joffrey, perhaps you would be so kind as to entertain our guest today.” “It would be my pleasure, Mother,” Joffrey said very formally. He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse, and Sansa’s spirits took flight. A whole day with her prince! —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Okay, so Joffrey’s just “saved” her from the freaky executioner dude. And now she has ALSO been spared the prospect of giving her queen the “My sister prefers the company of the boy who smells like dead cow to you” speech. And to top it all off, she actually gets to finally spend time getting to know the king-to-be her father sold her to. She’s going to make a good impression! Exactly what she needs!

““What would you like to do?” Be with you, Sansa thought, but she said, “Whatever you’d like to do, my prince.” Joffrey reflected a moment. “We could go riding.” “Oh, I love riding,” Sansa said.” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

This is a lie. Earlier in the chapter, she thinks about how much she hates it. But, also remember points 9, 10, and 12. We also know she’s afraid of making him angry, because earlier in the chapter:

“I can answer,” Sansa said quickly, to quell her prince’s anger.” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

“If you like,” she said uncertainly. “I suppose I could tie Lady up.” She did not quite understand, though. “I didn’t know you had a dog …” Joffrey laughed. “He’s my mother’s dog, in truth. She has set him to guard me, and so he does.” “You mean the Hound,” she said. She wanted to hit herself for being so slow. Her prince would never love her if she seemed stupid. “Is it safe to leave him behind?”” — Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

That’s a good question, Sansa. No, strangely enough, it is safe to leave him behind, even though logic dictates that it shouldn’t be. You’d think bringing a guard with the two high-profile, rich children would be the safer option but it’s the Hound, so no, not really. But good on you for having more sense than your father WHO NEVER SEEMS INTERESTED IN SENDING GUARDS WITH HIS CHILDREN. (yeah, there might be a whole other meta on this)

But then there’s this. “Her prince would never love her if she seemed stupid.” Points 9 and 10, guys. It’s super important that her prince love her. Which is also why she keeps drinking when Joffrey tells her to keep drinking. Why she suddenly loves riding. Why she takes his word for it that he’ll protect her.

Then the magical day starts. And what is described is what sounds like several hours of Joffrey charming her petticoats off. He promises to protect her, he gets her food, and he sings to her. He acts like every story she’s been told to believe in her entire life.

Also…

“They dined on trout fresh from the river, and Sansa drank more wine than she had ever drunk before. “My father only lets us have one cup, and only at feasts,” she confessed to her prince. “My betrothed can drink as much as she wants,” Joffrey said, refilling her cup. They went more slowly after they had eaten. Joffrey sang for her as they rode, his voice high and sweet and pure. Sansa was a little dizzy from the wine. ” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Guys, the eleven year old is drunk now. Sansa doesn’t know how to hold her liquor yet. She’s eleven.

“Beyond, in a clearing overlooking the river, they came upon a boy and a girl playing at knights. Their swords were wooden sticks, broom handles from the look of them, and they were rushing across the grass, swinging at each other lustily. The boy was years older, a head taller, and much stronger, and he was pressing the attack. The girl, a scrawny thing in soiled leathers, was dodging and managing to get her stick in the way of most of the boy’s blows, but not all. When she tried to lunge at him, he caught her stick with his own, swept it aside, and slid his wood down hard on her fingers. She cried out and lost her weapon. Prince Joffrey laughed. The boy looked around, wide-eyed and startled, and dropped his stick in the grass. The girl glared at them, sucking on her knuckles to take the sting out, and Sansa was horrified. “Arya?” she called out incredulously. “Go away,” Arya shouted back at them, angry tears in her eyes. “What are you doing here? Leave us alone.” Joffrey glanced from Arya to Sansa and back again. “Your sister?”” —Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

So here is the scene they’ve come upon: A girl and a much older boy are hitting each other with sticks. The much older boy is winning and hits her so hard she drops her weapon. And Joffrey knows that the girl is highborn. And Mycah, who is a good three or four years older than Arya, is the butcher’s boy.

Points 11 and 13 come into play now. Which is why Joffrey does this:

““And you’re only a butcher’s boy, and no knight.” Joffrey lifted Lion’s Tooth and laid its point on Mycah’s cheek below the eye, as the butcher’s boy stood trembling. “That was my lady’s sister you were hitting, do you know that?”” — Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Points 1, 8, and 13 guys.

Highborn girls were expected to obey and not take up swords. For Mycah, the son of a butcher, to play with a girl as highborn as Arya was a HUGE breach of conduct. That he was hitting her with a stick didn’t help. Nor does it help that Arya’s been spending her days with him and coming home with bruises everywhere for weeks now.

Joffrey wanted to hurt Mycah for fun. He doesn’t give a shit about Arya, and he finds the situation hilarious. He’s a sadist. The problem is: it doesn’t matter. Because he’s the prince, because Mycah is lowborn, because Arya is much younger than Mycah and a lady, because princes like Joffrey are supposed to be chivalrous and protect ladies from harm, because Joffrey’s got a powerful family, because a lowborn boy hitting a little lady is a HUGE taboo. It doesn’t matter why Joffrey does it.

All Joffrey has to say is this: “He was hitting my lady’s sister.”

And boom. Excuse for him to attack an unarmed, innocent boy in the eyes of Westeros law. Joffrey, as prince, is allowed to hurt boys like Mycah, especially when boys like Mycah were hitting his lady’s sister. He was being “chivalrous.” He was maintaining the status quo.

He was definitely doing the latter, at least.

“Arya went for him. Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince’s head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa’s horrified eyes. Joffrey staggered and whirled around, roaring curses. Mycah ran for the trees as fast as his legs would take him. Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion’s Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire. Sansa was shrieking, “No, no, stop it, stop it, both of you, you’re spoiling it,” but no one was listening. Arya scooped up a rock and hurled it at Joffrey’s head. She hit his horse instead, and the blood bay reared and went galloping off after Mycah. “Stop it, don’t, stop it!” Sansa screamed. Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Sansa didn’t know what to do. She watched helplessly, almost blind from her tears.” — Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Okay, so Joffrey is bleeding and attacking Arya, Sansa’s freaked out and calling for them to stop, and Arya has attacked Joffrey and is afraid. Sansa has gotten her first glimpse of Joffrey’s cruelty and feels helpless. In comes Nymeria. She bites Joffrey. Arya calls her off and brandishes a sword at Joffrey, Joffrey threatens to tell his mother, and Arya bolts when Sansa bids her to leave Joffrey alone (good advice).

“Joffrey,” she sobbed. “Oh, look what they did, look what they did. My poor prince. Don’t be afraid. I’ll ride to the holdfast and bring help for you.” Tenderly she reached out and brushed back his soft blond hair. His eyes snapped open and looked at her, and there was nothing but loathing there, nothing but the vilest contempt. “Then go,” he spit at her. “And don’t touch me.”” —-Sansa I, A Game of Thrones

Sansa is totally screwed at this point. There’s no going back. She doesn’t know this, but she’s aware that this is a huge problem. Even as she is trying to help him, he’s looking at her with hatred. Even though she’s not done anything. Joffrey is the type of boy who attacks little girls. Joffrey is looking at her with the vilest contempt. And Joffrey is the boy she is tied to for the rest of her life. The boy her father has betrothed her to.

Okay, so let’s move on to Ned III. They’ve found Arya, and she’s brought before the king after a night of being lost. She’s crying and sorry and freaking the fuck out because she’s a nine year old who was attacked by the prince, spent a night in the wilderness, and has now been dragged before the entire court like a criminal.

“Why was I not told that my daughter had been found?” Ned demanded, his voice ringing. “Why was she not brought to me at once?” —Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Arya should have never been allowed to leave the progress unguarded in the first place.

She felt so tiny in his arms, nothing but a scrawny little girl. It was hard to see how she had caused so much trouble. “Are you hurt?”” — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Oh, I don’t know, maybe she’s an energetic kid left completely unattended in the wilderness and has a wolf for a pet? Maybe that’s how she caused all this trouble. (Actually, she didn’t and you know that. But whatever, look at the little girl who you know was defending her friend from the nasty, armed prince and view HER as the source of the trouble). Maybe the wolf you brought home and the guards you didn’t give her might have had something to do with the trouble. Even if you wanted to indulge her and let her go running with her friend, SEND SOME FUCKING GUARDS. THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN OBVIOUS. POINT 15.

Now the actual trial part:

“The queen stepped forward. “You know full well, Stark. This girl of yours attacked my son. Her and her butcher’s boy. That animal of hers tried to tear his arm off.” “That’s not true,” Arya said loudly. “She just bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah.” “Joff told us what happened,” the queen said. “You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him.” “That’s not how it was,” Arya said, close to tears again. Ned put a hand on her shoulder. “Yes it is!” Prince Joffrey insisted. “They all attacked me, and she threw Lion’s Tooth in the river!” Ned noticed that he did not so much as glance at Arya as he spoke. “Liar!” Arya yelled.” — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Okay, first of all, this is a farce: It doesn’t matter what the truth is.

Second of all: A surprising amount of what Joffrey and Cersei said were lies. Mycah didn’t hurt Joffrey, and he and Arya didn’t beat Joffrey with clubs, and Nymeria attacked him without Arya’s bidding. But it is true that Nymeria kind of tried to tear his arm off (good puppy) and you and Nymeria did attack him, and you did throw Lion’s Tooth in the river.

And unfortunately, that’s all that’s going to matter. Because you live in a awful, unfair world, Arya.

Seriously, one of the saddest parts of this whole thing was “He was hurting Mycah.”

Why? Because it doesn’t matter to anyone but Arya and the readers. Arya, it doesn’t matter that he was hurting Mycah. It doesn’t matter to the king, the queen, and his court. That would never affect the outcome of any of this. Joffrey is (supposed to be) the son of the king. Mycah is the son of a butcher. 8, 10, 11.

All Joffrey has to say is that Mycah was hitting you with a stick. That is true. If anyone with power over the situation might have cared, your game with Mycah would put an end to that. It won’t matter that you were just playing. You’re not supposed to play with fake swords, you’re a girl. You’re not supposed to play with the butcher’s boy, you’re noble. According to the standards of class and chivalry, Joffrey was intervening in a wholly inappropriate situation and punishing the lowborn boy attacking the highborn girl.

You should have known this. But your parents kind of suck at preparing themselves and their children for the world around them. So yeah. Mycah is getting his throat slit by the Hound for attacking the prince as you passionately testify that Joffrey was hurting him. I’m sorry. You’re a little girl who lives in a world where everything is terrible.

Okay, so then both Arya and Joffrey tell their version of what happened.

And then Ned decides to make another really awful parenting decision.

““They were not the only ones present,” Ned said. “Sansa, come here.” Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. “Tell us what happened.”” — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Eddard Stark, YOU agreed to have your eleven-year-old daughter tied to this family. You had her swear an oath to marry Joffrey. You signed a contract. You did it so that the Lannisters would not question your loyalty as you investigated them for the murder of Jon Arryn. You are heading to King’s Landing to find evidence and bring the most powerful family in the country up on charges. The same family you have tied Sansa to in a legally binding sense. Sansa, the daughter who has been raised from birth to follow custom, be a perfect lady, and obey. The daughter who is tied to the boy you now know to have attacked your other daughter. The daughter whose future in laws you suspect of murder and treason. The daughter who has no idea WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

An hour ago, you were terrified that the Lannisters were going to hurt or kill Arya. You believe that the queen is responsible for Jon Arryn’s death. You know that she sent THE HOUND and her brother THE KINGSLAYER after your nine-year-old daughter.

So you’re asking eleven-year-old Sansa to go before her future husband and his murderous, traitor mother and call the prince a lying brute who attacks children. The same prince you’ve legally tied her to.

Both Joffrey and Cersei have attacked and/or tried to attack your children with lethal force. You KNOW this. Sansa is supposed to marry Joffrey, an arrangement you agreed to. And now you expect her to go up against them in a court of law.

“His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. “I don’t know,” she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. “I don’t remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t see …” “You rotten!” Arya shrieked. She flew at her sister like an arrow, knocking Sansa down to the ground, pummeling her. “Liar, liar, liar, liar.” “Arya, stop it!” Ned shouted. Jory pulled her off her sister, kicking. Sansa was pale and shaking as Ned lifted her back to her feet. “Are you hurt?” he asked, but she was staring at Arya, and she did not seem to hear.” — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Sansa’s entire future might have depended on this moment if not for the fact that the Lannisters are insane. In a somewhat sane, logical world, where fathers don’t betroth their daughters to the sons of suspected murderers, what Sansa did in this passage might have saved her and her sister.

If she had backed up Arya’s story, it would not have helped the situation. The closest thing to consequences that might have come about for Joffrey would be for attacking Arya.  And even then, an argument might be made for self-defense. It wouldn’t be a valid one, but it would win out because Joffrey is heir to the throne.

Joffrey might have been punished somewhat. Not severely, though, if Cersei has a say (and she does). Joffrey would still be heir to the throne. Someday, he’d be king. And he’d be very, very angry with both Stark sisters.

She’s seen Joffrey attack her sister once. Someday he might do it with a crown on his head and absolute authority. As far as Sansa knows, she’s still going to marry him.

We know she told Ned what happened earlier. The fact that her father didn’t decide right then and there that the betrothal would end speaks volumes. Her father didn’t make that decision. But he has made the decision to drag her up in front of her future husband and have her call him a lying psychopath.

If Joffrey doesn’t hate Sansa, if she finds a way to rectify the vile contempt she saw on his face, she’s potentially not the only person who is safer.

Yeah, Arya is safer if Joffrey likes Sansa as well. Everyone is. This won’t happen, but Sansa doesn’t know that.  

In a drunken haze, partially blinded by tears, Sansa saw Joffrey attack her sister. Before that, Joffrey had been charming. Sansa’s approach to her relationship with him even before this happened was to “quell her prince’s anger.” She’s always intended to be a tempering influence on him. That becomes much harder if he hates her.

However, if she agrees with Joffrey’s story, she’s selling out her sister and possibly subjecting her to a cruel punishment. It’s a capital offense to attack the prince. Even though Arya, due to her birth and age, wouldn’t be executed or tortured or something, it likely that this incident would ruin her life and lead to some severe violence for her down the road. Years from now, she’d have a king who hates her and the mark of being a criminal to make her even more vulnerable.

So, Sansa gives a non-committal answer.

She’s already told her father the story. He didn’t pull the plug on the betrothal even though he believes her. He didn’t use her honesty to protect her. He used it to fling her out in front of the most powerful family in the country and endanger her entire future. The future HE set her up for in the first place.

The thing is, it doesn’t matter if Sansa backed her sister up for another reason:

“Their only good fortune was that both Jaime Lannister and Sandor Clegane were missing, leading searches north of the Trident.” —- Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

It had already been decided that the Starks would suffer for this, regardless of who was at fault. The king allowed his wife to send her brother the Kingslayer and The Hound out after a nine-year-old. Justice for Arya and Mycah was never in the cards.

And then the wolves.

That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. “He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” She saw the truth on his face. “No,” she said. “No, not Lady, Lady didn’t bite anybody, she’s good …” “Lady wasn’t there,” Arya shouted angrily. “You leave her alone!” “Stop them,” Sansa pleaded, “don’t let them do it, please, please, it wasn’t Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can’t, it wasn’t Lady, don’t let them hurt Lady, I’ll make her be good, I promise, I promise …” She started to cry. All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. “Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please.” The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. “Damn you, Cersei,” he said with loathing. Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa’s grasp. — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

As much as I want to completely blame Cersei and Robert and Joffrey for Lady’s death, I can’t.

Really, Ned? THAT is the extent of your protests? Sansa did absolutely nothing wrong. You are Hand of the King. Offer to send Lady back to Winterfell (and send your daughters back too, FFS).

Or better yet, offer to do it yourself and then sneak Lady out of there!

“Shortly, Jory brought him Ice. When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory said, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.” —- Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

NED YOU SUCK ALL THE DICK.

You’re denying Cersei the pelt. You feel confident enough to deny the crown proof that Lady is dead. You want to send her back to Winterfell. You do.

Lady SHOULD have been sent back to Winterfell, but not to be buried. The fact that she is? Yeah, NED’S FUCK UP. AN UNNECESSARY ONE.

And then this:

“No sign of your daughter, Hand,” the Hound rasped down, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet.” He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned. Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butcher’s boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above. — Eddard III, A Game of Thrones

Remember what I said about justice never being in the cards? Here is your proof. The Hound didn’t even know they’d already found Arya. But he slaughtered Mycah. This was an inevitability, just as Joffrey getting away with what happened was. No matter what Sansa said.

Even if she backed Arya up. Even if Joffrey was punished and judged the sole aggressor. Mycah would still be dead. Joffrey would still be heir to the throne and angry at both Stark girls. And Sansa would never have a chance of “quelling her prince’s anger.”

A lot of people hate Sansa based on this and the fact that she blamed Arya for the incident later. That she didn’t see what Joffrey was then. That she trusted Cersei.

As Bluecichlid says in her meta, confronting the reality of the situation would cause a huge psychological break for Sansa.

Sansa has a history of rewriting events in her head to cope. The most famous example would be the Unkiss, where she remembers the Hound kissing her during the battle of Blackwater. He didn’t. He snuck into her room, put a knife to her throat, forced her onto the bed, and threatened to kill her. But she rewrites it in her head as a kiss.

She does the same thing with the Trident. In her subsequent chapters, she looks back on the event internally blaming Arya. It’s not just something she says, but something she thinks. She believes her sister, who had a habit of insulting the royal family and misbehaving, who literally attacked her in front of the entire court, attacked the prince with Mycah. She remembers again when she can no longer deny what Joffrey is, but consciously, throughout the rest of A Game of Thrones, she believes her sister is responsible.

George R.R. Martin has gone on record saying that the loss of Lady has had a serious impact on Sansa’s mental state. It’s not entirely surprising—all the Stark children, according to Martin, are wargs, and they come into their powers through their bonds with their direwolves. We see it with all of Sansa’s siblings. Even Rickon and Bran, who are far younger than her, enter their wolves’ minds. Arya possesses Nymeria even after they are parted and can possess the minds of other animals at will. Meanwhile, Sansa’s power hasn’t developed at all. This natural ability has been cut off and stunted.

During the fight, it’s mentioned that Sansa is “blinded by tears”. And soon after, she is robbed of her ability to ever see through the eyes of her wolf, who is a core part of her being. Despite the fact that Sansa didn’t do anything wrong, she, like Mycah, was punished. And she is still legally tied to a cruel boy. So yes, she alters her conscious memories and refuses to confront the truth. She stays blind in order to keep some semblance of her sanity and hope for her future.

Neither girl was responsible for what happened. Both of them were neglected and put in an extremely dangerous situation. Sansa, who lost her wolf, processes this internally, in an unhealthy manner to cope with the tragedy. Arya, who didn’t lose her wolf, does remember what happened. She “hates” her sister as much as Sansa “hates” her (they’re super, super pissed at each other with the sort of anger one can only feel towards family and congressmen). They both unfairly blame one another for things that are not their fault. The difference is, Arya didn’t have a piece of her soul killed by her father. So she deals with things like a normal little girl. Sansa, who lost Lady and is still looking at an impossible future, does not.