#the party: … we just saw him die. he’s dead. you know he’s dead right?

[ba1duran]

it’s the way that i’m pretty sure everyone thinks nazareth is crazy for constantly acting like the prince is alive. like he’s out there, living and breathing — despite the fact that everyone saw him die, despite the fact that he seemed to have been murdered in cold blood in front of everyone’s eyes.

and it’s just. nazareth, who saw the spell used against the prince as clear as day, just like everyone else. who felt cold nothing replace the warmth of one of fate’s chosen. the way that his god approached him in the early hours, and did not reprimand him, did not yank away the gift he had given him, but instead handed him something new, something to protect him. thinking about, with that, how his body had been whisked away, even though it would have been so much easier to leave it — as a lesson, as a challenge, as a declaration of war and disorder. nazareth and his paranoia and his subtle way of overthinking and his frankly terminal arrogance; something strange in the air, something strange about the circumstances, and he can’t do it, he can’t believe that the prince is dead. and he simply won’t believe it until he gets confirmation himself of the fact.

[crescenthistory]

saw ur post about all the angsty requests and i simply cannot let that happen so may i present my request of the lovely barty:

slytherin is throwing a party and barty is already there when reader gets there late but they can’t find each other bc it’s so crowded. but junior being, well him, he’s loud and brash and so some that’s a bad thing but to reader it’s so perfect.

i can imagine him standing on a table, maybe drunk, singing at the top of his lungs for his lovely treasure (reader) and when r does find him, they give him a light hearted scolding but thank him for always finding them in every crowd.

i love barty so much and when i imagine him in love, he’s IN LOVE and he’s so loud about it and it’s just perfect

- 🐈‍⬛

if nobody else has my back, i know komi has my back 🙏👯‍♀️ just a silly little drabble with our best boy

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, alcohol (firewhiskey), reference to smoking, slytherin party, pda, barty pov (so max chaotic energy), romanian!barty, kissing<3, slytherin skittles shenanigans all around

"You know, Junior," Dorcas drawled from where she was leaning against Marlene as one might lean on a wall. "You're supposed to at least pretend to enjoy spending time with your friends."

"Oh, come off it, Cassie," Barty replied while still not looking at her. His face was turned towards the ever-growing crowd in the Slytherin common room, eyes scanning. "You know I'd die for ya."

She mumbled something into her drink that Barty didn't quite catch, but Marlene apparently found hilarious.

"What's got him in a tizzy?" Regulus asked absentmindedly. Barty hadn't even noticed him reappear, but the sounds of liquids swishing revealed it was likely to get a drink and not to spend time with his lovely friends. Dorcas should really be scolding him.

"Y/N's not here yet." Marlene supplied it so matter-of-factly you might not have realised she is a recent addition to the group via Dorcas. Barty did not much care for her yet – but she wasn't wrong.

The two of you always attended parties together. Always had, since the first time Barty all but dragged you along and you found that you actually quite enjoyed them, as long as he was by your side. It had inflated Barty’s ego beyond what it probably needed to – according to Regulus, at least – but more importantly, it was one of the things that first made him feel secure in your relationship. Wanted, needed.

Barty was also at the point where he did not enjoy anything particularly much if you were not there. He could do shots with Evan and rile Dorcas up into picking on Regulus with him, but it didn’t give him that same buzz that ran over his exposed skin. Didn’t make his dead heart beat.

Tonight, though, for the traditional half-term rager thrown sloppily together in Slytherin, you were running late. By some terrible coincidence, you had your prefect rounds the same day, and could not get ready with Barty like you usually did.

He was left standing by the drinks table so that you could easily spot him whenever you returned – but as more and more people streamed in, your face was not among them. And the more crowded the room got, the rowdier it became, and Barty no longer had a clear sight of the entry. 

You could be here and he might not know. That just wouldn’t do.

“Hate to agree with the lion, but she’s right,” he announced then, clapping his hands together as he turned to his audience. Otherwise known as his friends and their mostly uninterested gazes. “My darling sweet angel, light of my life and yours is not here yet, and we need to do something about it.”

Regulus and Dorcas shared a look through bitten-back smiles. “And why is she not here?” Regulus asked, perhaps to avoid the last part of Barty's sentence.

“She has the audacity to follow rules and regulations,” Barty said with a straight face.

Regulus looked back to Dorcas for a translation. “Prefect rounds.” He rolled his eyes at that, a fellow abider of rules and regulations apparently. 

“Being the attentive individual she is, she likely overextended her help and ran late. And now there’s too many people here for me to spot her.” Barty spoke slowly, like he was spelling it out for children. Regulus’ huffing was becoming too frequent and petulant for his current taste. “So. Desperate times?”

He trailed off the end of his sentence, looking to Dorcas to complete it. Instead she asked, “What desperate measures are you aiming at here, B?”

A Cheshire cat grin split Barty’s face in half. “So glad you asked, my dear Dorc.”

Marlene winced and tightened her hold on Dorcas who had already opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him where to shove that nickname, but Barty was already backing away from the trio with his arms spread out wide.

He bodily pushed at a few fifth years standing around a table to make room for him to jump onto it, with no regard for the card game he was disrupting. The table was wobbly, but it carried Barty’s weight with no problem. From this new height, he could see most of the room clearly, eagle-like gaze already working overtime to see if there was a you to locate there yet.

Regulus walked up to stand in front of him on the ground. Barty grinned down at him questioning.

“Joining me, Reggie boy?”

“You wish.” Regulus moved his grip on a flask of firewhiskey to underneath it, so he could most effectively lift it up towards Barty without spilling any. “If you’re on tables already, you ought to have more in your system.”

“What a terrible influence you are, Black. I’m writing straight home to Walburga.” Immediately after his quip, Barty brought the flask to his lips, chugging, while Regulus rolled his eyes in a way that simply must be painful. 

Cheers from around Barty erupted at his very visible drinking, some already pissed students yelling chug, chug, chug. What can he say, Barty’s never one to back down from a challenge.

With an audible pop, he released the bottle from his lips and howled obnoxiously. He could hear Marlene yell a “yeah!” from behind him.

Maybe she wasn’t that bad.

Then, Barty at the top of his burning lungs yelled. “Y/N?! Dragă?!”

No answer. Or, well, no answer from you. Some stupid sods tried to respond, as if he’d ever call them darling.

“Oi! What are you on about?” Some bloke yelled at him from the opposite wall.

“Looking for my bird, you prick!” 

This earned him several wolf-whistles and hollers, which he promptly neglected as he turned around on the table, to no avail. He did not find you – but he had not exhausted the room in his search either. He still could not see every corner.

Using his thumb as a makeshift cap for the bottle, Barty cast a spell to move a table in the middle of the room closer to him while mid-leap towards it. His feet just barely hit the end of it, screech-laughing throughout his entire flight. 

This earned him even more hoots and hollers. Barty would be feeling quite chuffed if it wasn’t for your remaining status as missing. He took a few more swings of the bottle while his hungry eyes swept over all the heads. 

Then, the room must have lit up, because at last he saw you. Standing near the fireplace, squished between several other partiers, trying to gain your own bearings and locate your people.

“Dragă!”

Your head snapped up at Barty’s nickname for you, and the sweetest, most kissable smile spread across your lips. Oh, how Barty needed you to get your arse over here this instant.

He jumped off the table while punching the air in success, manhandling his way through the crowd towards where he now knew you to be. Smartly, you remained put, but your arms were opened for him by the time he got to you.

Swooping in, he abandoned the flask in favour of circling his arms around your waist and spinning you around, relishing in the giggles that escaped you.

“Buburuză, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He spoke into your neck, breathing you in, before pulling away enough to see your face. His smile must be blinding.

“The other prefect didn’t show, so I had double the amount of work,” you said simply, as if that was not an egregious crime against the loveliest prefect there was.

He opened his mouth to say as much, but you cut him off with a kiss, lips curled against his. Barty couldn’t help but sigh happily into you.

“Which can be dealt with later,” you said pointedly once you felt you had mollified him enough with your kisses. “For now, it seems I have to catch up with you. Starting without me?” Whether you had seen the bottle or smelled it on his breath he did not know, he just wanted you to keep talking.

The teasing tone in your voice did something funny to his stomach. “Entirely Reggie’s fault – extensive peer pressure, I tell you. I have Dorcas as my witness.” He nodded solemnly, as if he was presenting his case for a judge.

You shook your head at him and breathed a laughter against his lips as you kissed him again. He surely tasted of firewhiskey and the smoke he had earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind – he loved you all the more for it.

“Come now, there is something we need to do,” he said the second you pulled apart. One of his hands found yours while his other settled around your waist, hooking his thumb in your waistband. 

You furrowed your brows in confused entertainment, but let him lead you through the crowd towards the table in the middle that he abandoned earlier. 

“Barty, what–” you tried to ask, but he tightened his grip around your waist and used it to lift you, abusing a poor chair as a stepping stone to get the two of you on top of the table once more. 

Before you could question him, he spun you around like a trophy and shouted above the music, “I FOUND HER!”, victory evident in his tone.

This time, the wolf-whistles and hollers were even louder, some students stomping their feet to create a drumming sound. You flushed under the attention, melting impossibly further into Barty’s side, but laughter spilled over your lips, albeit nervously. When he looked down, he found you beaming at him. 

He knew himself to look twice as lovestruck as you, but he was happy to report that that was saying something.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” came the chants from the crowd then.

When a brief once-over of you showed no discomfort despite your light embarrassment – you were growing rapidly immune to that through your relationship – he figured, who was he to argue with a drunken room?

He swept you into a deep and passionate kiss, bending you slightly backward with his wide hands splayed across your back. 

“Now that I’m reunited with my love, what do you say we get the party properly started, yeah?”

[rowretro]

𝕾𝖔 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖞

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, thriller, gore, death

♡synopsis: Y/n's not afraid of the dark... maybe she might be scared of what's in the dark. The ghosts? monsters? death hunting her down ready to grab her by its fist? of course not. She's scared of her ex.... he's so scary....

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Y/n yawned as she walked down the creepy, dark hallways of the abandoned high school. Tables scattered here and there, blood splatters dried ones and even fresh ones, painting the ground and wall. Evidence of human life being tortured and tormented for days before being ripped into pieces and left on the ground, rotting into the floorboards. Y/n was rather more disgusted, shocked the police hasn't once come across this place... Oh wait- that's a dead officer from the 90's seems he died a few weeks ago. Why was she here exactly?

It's stupid of course. Her dear friend who had been acting weird lately, dragged her to this place, challenging her claiming she'll die of fear before the ghost even gets to her. Y/n was no idiot, denying any invitation to the murder house. Yet Angela Yin, her best friend, dragged her in, the doors shutting behind them, and jammed shut. Then Angela went missing. That's how y/n found herself wandering the empty classroom where the ugly thing was just a second ago. She groaned, grabbing a key she found as she walked toward a door that had a matching lock.

She's ran into the killer once, it left a fog of smoke, causing her trip over small thing. It's nails disgusting and long like claws, head snapped off, hanging backwards. Eyes gauged out and mouth wide open. It was disgusting. its arms reached forward, but it can only see behind itself. That helped y/n, it was so blind it didn't bother looking in the cabinet where she hid in pure silence.

Just as she was about to put the key in the lock, a thick black liquid, slid from under the door, taking over the big, thick wooden rectangle, that blocked whatever was in that room from her. She groaned, arms crossed, as her foot tapped against the tattered floor impatiently, she stared at the many creepy hands holding eyeballs and organs waving them around through the now blackened, inky door. "What do you want from my ghost?... In my 18 years the worst thing I'd ever done to hurt anyone was being sarcastic and throwing parties when I'm home alone, now did that hurt you?" she asked as the eyeballs glared right at her.

"na how bout we talk about what YOU did? kill everyone who tried to send you to a better place, figure out a crime, or at least run home to their family? I don't know why Angela dragged me here, but once I drag that bitch home she's getting it. And you listen to me. I know deep inside you know you did something wrong, hence you killed so many innocent people and are trying to haunt me. I'm not scared of you because you were once a human like me... So why don't you get out of my way, and I leave you alone if you leave me and possibly Angela alone too kay?"

Y/n said confidently as if negotiating with a person who's afraid of her. yet the thick inky liquid disappeared, and the door opened. "That's what I thought." she said, dragging her sharp rusty metal weapon along with her. Yet the doors closed, there stood Angela, eyes pure black, veins visible in her arms and face, no longer blue or purple but black. Her teeth grew sharp as she approached y/n, her bony hands wrapped tightly around y/n's neck, choking her. "Fuck- Angela- What the fuck?! stupid ghost bitch I thought I told you we had a deal." Y/n choked out.

However the girl let go of y/n impulsively, as she fainted, the ghost screaming as it was forced out of her. There she saw a sight that scared her most "Nishimura No......." she mumbled as Riki dusted himself off. "Yes.... Im back baby." he said with a smirk. She threw a table at him and rushed outside, now lost in the dark woods, there, vulnerable, and in the depths of danger, possible vampires and Werewolves that had escaped the military's hold, roaming around in need of blood. That's why she broke up with him.

"Wow babe, one way to say thank you for saving your life, and hi to your darling boyfriend" Riki's deep voice echoed as he walked out from behind the trees. She backed away from him. Her ex. Riki. She broke up with him after she saw her suck the blood of her cousin. "I told you already we're broken up." she said mustering up enough courage to at least try to sound like she was confident in her words. "No you made that decision. Not me, so sorry you're stuck with me." he said as y/n glared at him. He groaned running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Darling.... I only drink blood of a human when I need to, and I only suck the blood of those who do wrong in the world and you know what your cousin did to you..." he said as he gently grabbed her arm, scanning over the healing scars on her arms. She gently pulled away, feeling herself falling into his love trap yet again, like a moth to a flame. "You're not scared of my love.... you're clearly scared for me... y/n I love you and you're mine you can never change that. I don't understand why me being half demon half vampire scares you.... I'd never hurt you... you know it. They can't ever kill me, I'm practically immortal.... So please. take my hand and let me take you to OUR home." he said as he grabbed her arm... yet she pulled away roughly.

"Nishimura Riki. I may love you... but I don't trust you... I don't want you anymore.... Im over you..." she said, almost as if convincing herself, "Then you leave me no choice." He said, yanking her into his embrace, teeth stabbing into her collarbone.... He imprinted her, kissing her lovingly right after. There's no turning back now "I'll go home then-" Angela suddenly said walking toward her boyfriends car, as y/n was still dazed.

She was his now. She realized how too such perfect care of her, before their break up, and even now, as she stared at the permanent mark on her collarbone in the reflection of the mirror. She didn't find him so scary anymore. The comforting environment of his groans of annoyance every time he lost a game his comfortable room, his cologne intertwining in the air, the large white sweater that slipped off her shoulder, so comfortable as she hugged it closer to her skin, his sweater...He's not so scary after all...

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[possessionisamyth]

Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of

"I wanted him to replace me."

Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.

Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.

Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.

But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.

So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.

He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.

It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.

[finnfrei]

Hope you don't mind me asking again of your bard and her dragonborn? 😅

It’s getting hard to refuse a chance to rant about them, especially now as we have finished the campaign🌝

I keep thinking about this one scene after Clio got back from an adventure that almost became the party’s last one. They got to meet the gods of their realm or those who claimed to be ones. One of them turned out to be her sister’s patron, the other unwillingly caused vivid nightmares that were haunting Clio for more than five years reminding her about the assault she and her sister barely survived. Our oathbreaker paladin also had a time of his life meeting the god he used to serve. The party almost died there trying to prevent the destruction of their civilisation and death of everyone they love along with it. Her sister did die in a way there.

After killing some gods and saving the world, learning and surviving things she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Clio got back home to the Iron City. She stormed to an ongoing council meeting in an iconic Aragorn at Helm’s Deep fashion, telling the story about what they’ve been through, explaining the recent global calamity and how they’ve managed to stop it. The utter awe on faces of other members of the council, including Hescan’s, brought bard the satisfaction she was seeking. Clio couldn’t quite grasp it but something was different about the way her chief looked at her. Last time she saw him he told her he was falling deep for her… or it was just a fever she had then, she couldn’t tell, she wasn’t sure. The man she was talking to through the communication ring during the adventure seemed to be the same unbothered and cold Dragonborn she knows for a few years now. Something shifted and for the first time she felt her hands sweating in his presence.

…

“I could’ve actually lost you this time,” he said in a quieter voice when they were finally alone and she noticed the slight shiver in chief’s voice. Clio’s heart clenched in her chest, he meant it. He worried about her.

That evening and the night that came after he was gentle, caring. That was new. Of course, he always made sure not to hurt her, unless she wanted to, but he never really expressed his affection like that. Not that it was unpleasant, it surprised and puzzled her.

…

“I was thinking…” he stumbled during a pillow talk a few hours later, “you know…maybe we should start spending more time together?”. She could’ve sworn she saw a blush coming through those emerald scales of his.

“I need to talk to you,” she sighed feeling tense and set up on the edge of the bed.

Hescan stood up, got around the bed, poured and passed a goblet of wine to the girl also taking one for himself.

“You know,” she started, “I believed my twin was dead there for some time. We had a huge fight right before that. All I could think about were things I should’ve told her or done and would never get a chance to.”

Hescan set quietly on his knees on the floor across from his little spy and was looking up at Clio as she proceeded, “And then I thought, what if we fail the whole “world saving” thing and I will never get to see you again. There’re things I regret I haven’t told you.” she stopped, trying to regain composure, “I have met someone,” she said avoiding looking at him at first, “He’s wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe and peaceful with anyone before.”

She could see the tension, anger and confusion building in his face.

“I feel seen. He looked into me and managed to bring back the girl even I believed was long gone, hiding under the myriad of different masks. He listens and he hears every word I say,” she smiles feeling already embarrassed of what she’s going to say next, “And despite all the common sense, I… I trust him.”

“What…” Hescan utters quietly, breaking the silence that filled the room. The look of anger, pain and the sticky feeling of betrayal washing over him.

“I trust him,” she repeats, “and I trust him my heart. I trust he will take good care of it.” Clio reaches with her hand and gently touches Dragonborn’s chest over his heart as she asks softly, “You will take care of it for me, wouldn’t you?”

The girl was waiting for a moment, watching as the anger on Hescan’s face changed to confusion and then the sparkle in his eyes as he glanced back at her when realisation finally hit him.

“I’m going to kill you!” he growled as he pounced at her, pushing her back on the soft bed. The girl giggled in his strong embrace, feeling the pressure of his body over hers.

“I need to hear it, my heart” she pleaded, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eyes.

He smiled softly and whispered, “I love you.” as he gently bit the arch of her neck, “you’re safe,” he followed with a kiss.

[whatsthelimitoncharacters]

So, in my opinion, Athena is probably dead. I think that it’s dumb and doesn’t make sense but the listening party animatic definitely implies she’s dead

Here we have some before and after pictures. When I first saw the livestream, I assumed that she was just gonna pass out and that people were overreacting. However, the glow fading really implies that she is in fact dead.

Shortly before the earlier images, we see Athena kind of holding onto life with her glow flickering. We can assume she is almost dead because Ares asks if she’s even alive(I will return to this). All this considered, despite the fact she isn’t glowing in a lot of scenes in this song(such as Odysseus showing her Telemachus), her glow fading really does show that she is probably dead.

If you need some evidence from the songs, we can also get some without looking at the animatics. First and most importantly, Ares asks if Athena is dead. While Ares isn’t the most respected god and many would label him as kind of dumb, he would probably know that gods can’t die if that’s the case. Him asking this does show that a god can, in theory, die. If you want mythological precedence, you can look at how Pan died(I know that there’s a bit of debate to that but idc). Another piece of evidence is actually Calypso saying “Last i checked, goddesses can’t die.” Many people take this as proof that Athena is incapable of death but it’s already been established by major gods that a god/goddess could die and there’s a mythological precedent, so calypso may be lying. In honesty, she isn’t being entirely untruthful in saying that she can’t die. Odysseus is just a half dead mortal king and Zeus is the single most powerful god. Odysseus can’t kill calypso while Zeus could kill Athena. This segues very well into how this line fits into the larger saga. Instead of this line acting as foreshadowing for Athena’s survival, it instead acts as tragic irony for Odysseus. Athena is Odysseus’ only chance at leaving and she dies. The irony comes because Odysseus’ problem could be solved if only a different goddess had died. The wrong goddess died and now it’s up to Zeus to decide whether Odysseus should be set free.

Now, if I’m correct, then I have a lot of feelings about this. If I’m wrong I have slightly less. If I’m right, you can see my previous post for a lot of my reasons why I think athena dying is a bad decision, but I’ll give one here. Gods don’t die. Pan is the only death I can think of (not counting stuff like Helios disappearing over time) and the phrasing of pans death could also be interpreted as the cult of Tammuz praising him for his one myth. Even characters that are treated as mortal like Medea (both her parents are minor gods so she probably should be too) don’t get myths where they die. Medea just runs off to a far away land. Kronos is sliced to bits. Typhon is sealed under Mount Etna. Kronos’ children are swallowed whole. ATHENA’S MOTHER GAVE BIRTH IN ZEUS’ HEAD. IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE THAT ATHENA COULD DIE. If she isn’t dead, why is the animatic like that? Jorge had to have commissioned it. I doubt the animator would have added that in on their own. Why would it be framed so much like she’s dead if she wasn’t.

[evita-shelby]

What is the Devil without his Witch?

aka the divorved!dark Tommy x Eva getting back together post s4 au

cw: murder, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cursing, infidelity, psychological torture, pregnancy complications

never really gave into Eva and Tommy’s toxicity like this lol

somewhat inspired by @mischievouslittlecreature 's The Misery We Made and its upcoming sequels

taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark @hoodeddreams13 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

“No.”

Eva crossed her arms wishing she wasn’t on bedrest and could toss him out of her fucking house.

With Luca dead, his psyche worse than ever and now her darling ex-husband comes here to tell her this.

“Evie—” he begins again, and she reminds him he lost the right to call her Eva the night he fucked Grace while she was at home with their first child.

He had come back from his own grave that same day to find his wife and child gone. No word nor even a sign of where she had gone. Just divorce papers he had to sign if he ever wanted to see his son again.

She told him infidelity was something she’d never forgive from him, and he learned the cost of using Grace to piss off Campbell would cost him the only woman he loved. He claims he hadn’t wanted to, but he’d been too drunk to see his mistake until he saw it was Grace he had fucked and not Eva.

And of course, an opportunist like her would seize the chance to have him. She had claimed to have fallen pregnant by him and not her dead husband, and when Tommy refused to leave his wife for her, Grace had taken it upon herself to ensure he did.

Eva had cursed the twat to die for taking what belonged to her. Cursed her to never be loved in truth by Tommy, to never give him children, to be the bride but never the wife of Tommy Shelby.

The night Grace died, Tommy had been called away from the party by Section D and died on impact in the arms of the stranger talking to her. The night after Eva had learned Tommy had never been able to make himself love the woman he married in a big gaudy wedding he never wanted to have. Grace had known he was marrying her out of obligation to the dead baby and would serve only to further his place in high society, Grace had accepted thinking he could grow to love her as she loved him in those two years he delayed it hoping she’d seek out greener pastures.

And then because he was all alone in the manor he purchased with his first wife in mind, Tommy sought her out more and more. Even stayed with her in London in the wisteria covered villa he didn’t have the keys to.

They shared a living child, shared a love that did not die so easily no matter what the vapid bitch had tried, and Eva would be the keeper of Tommy’s heart even when the fire melts away their initials tattooed on his hand.

They made a blood pact when they married, cut their palms and bound themselves to each other for the rest of eternity. No piece of paper, no wedding ring on the rat’s finger nor even the dead bastard in her belly could ever take Tommy from his witch of a wife.

It had made her wish Grace hadn’t moved on to hell so quickly, the witch would’ve loved to see her face knowing Tommy had gone back to his true wife the night after Grace was buried in her family’s plot in Ireland.

Then he wormed his way back into her heart that day at the canal they used to walk by as lovers once upon a time. The nostalgia, the knowledge that no woman would ever fill the hole Eva left in his heart and the tender way they made love had the witch fooled into thinking they could have a second act.

This had resulted in Diane, the baby girl struggling to stay alive inside her because the discovery that Tommy drugs himself to hallucinate his idea of Grace had almost killed her weeks ago. Eva was on bedrest until the doctor could be sure her daughter and successor would survive to term.

“Ask your hallucination to marry you and save your career.” The witch stands her ground and hitting him where it hurts.

“Eva, I ---” Tommy has no words to explain let alone justify why he torments himself with Grace’s so-called ghost.

Guilt was a powerful thing.

He hadn’t loved her like he had loved and still loves Eva ---he had said so to Eva the first night he sought her out again--- and yet he sought out a version of Grace that never even existed: a woman who could sweet talk him into killing himself because he killed her and that is what he deserves.

After all, he thinks he killed her by not reigning in his brother. Eva had let him believe that because she enjoyed seeing him in agony for the hurt he caused her.

“For all your talk about me being the true love of your life, it seems that was also a fucking lie.” The witch twists the knife knowing how because it hurts him to have her call him a liar. Tommy could handle anything except failing someone he loves.

Besides if he truly intends to make his first mistake right with her now, it will cost him.

“I killed her, Eva, I couldn’t be the husband she wanted, and I was wishing it had been you the one by my side that night and every night before it while that fucker came and shot her.” He admits knowing Eva’s cursed to be understanding and never understood.

“I cursed her, cursed her for daring to take you from me, if anyone had the pleasure of killing that lying fucking whore, it was me.” Eva admits knowing he’d forgive her because it proved she still loved him.

They were fucked in the head; they cannot love like real people do and settle for this love that burns everyone who dares to touch it.

There is a strange sense of relief he has, the relief of knowing he stands a chance to enter the Garden of Eden once more and the relief of knowing his nights seeking absolution from the Grace that lives in his head are over.

They better be or Eva’s dispatching him to the ninth circle of hell with his second wife.

“Well, then I got robbed of those fucking sapphires.” He even dares to fight a smile.

Tommy has a chance, that’s all that matters to him anyways.

“I’m not giving you twenty years of my life so you can make me miserable again, Shelby.” The witch reminds him why she’s not agreeing to Polly’s grand fucking scheme to get them back together. Polly had been the one to tip a newspaper that Tommy had reconciled with his rather quite famous ex-wife and were expecting their second child and only responded with the words, ‘You’re welcome’ before fucking off to see Michael in New York.

“Then tell me what I have to do to get you to say yes.” The gangster sat at the chair by bedside because she’ll kick him out of her bed if he attempts to fill the space he used to have in it.

“No more women, not even the one in your head.” It was the reason their first marriage failed; Tommy used his cock to get what money nor fear could. If he wanted to have a wife and a career he’d have to change. “The moment you go back to your old habits, I will take the children and destroy your precious career while I’m at it.”

Their first divorce had left him on the brink of ruin and being forced to take Churchill’s offer to survive it. The second one would force her to grind him into sand underneath her heel.

“You have my word…as long as there’s no one else for you too.” He is not surprised by her words; he’s always known she’s possessive of him just as possessive he is of her. Eva is not ashamed to admit she took lovers just to prick at his jealousy.

Eva had held Tommy’s gaze as Grace’s blond cousin ate her out in the library on his wedding day. The man had been humiliated and killed by him in the woods, Tommy had cornered Eva in a corridor stained with the man’s blood on his collar and just when Grace came looking for him, Eva showed the blonde she’d never relinquish her hold on Tommy.

It should’ve been us in that church, I never should’ve hurt you, love; he’d said so earnestly entirely unaware his new wife had watched them fuck with wild abandon after he had distracted her with a fuck upstairs, so she’d stop pestering him about the Russian Job. Sex was not how Tommy measured his love for his women; he led Lizzie and Grace on because his sweet and tender way in fucking managed to fool women into believing he loved them.

Jessie Eden will learn the hard way he was merely using her. If she was not important, Eva would’ve given her the mercy of death.

“Any other requests, Mrs. Shelby?” her blue eyed soulmate asks using the name she’d never removed so Grace would be forced to correct people and see their disappointment it’s not the enigmatic woman making society eat out of her hand but instead it was poor dull as dish water her. Mousy Jane Seymour had a son in order to leave a mark after Anne Boleyn, Eva had ensured her temporary replacement didn’t even taint the mausoleum in Arrow House.

“You get clean, or I walk.” This was more out of genuine concern for his wellbeing than taking away his ‘fun’.

He is touched by it, by the change in tone for this request as they get to the parts that are for more his benefit than hers.

It will be difficult, she’s been there when the bullshit court ordered her to get sober for her actions that night on January 1st, 1918. Worst six months of her life, but she did it and she knows it was her then fiancé, Leopoldo, who assured his father, the President she sought to overthrow, that what Eva needed was time to put herself together again.

“Only if you’re getting me through it, love. You were right when you said I was a weak man.” For all his façade of strength and unmovable as stone, Shelby was none of that once you got to the real one.

He had thought himself too smart to fall victim of a too strong drink, or something slipped into his drink by a desperate woman who thought he was the only one for her.

Tommy had fallen apart one night into his first vacation, his housekeeper had called her and put him on the phone while a maid had taken Charlie fearing he may hurt him in his drug fueled stupor.

“John would haunt me if I didn’t get you through it.” The witch assures him and pats the empty space in her bed allowing him to return to her in truth. She did not have many demands, just three. “And I need a husband just as your children need a father, you can’t let the guilt of causing your own misery deny you the chance to finally fix it, Tom.”

She never held back for him, he didn’t want that from her, he wanted the rose with its thorns and all.

“Always the healer, aren’t you?” he tried to touch her, yet the witch forbade him from doing so with a look. He would not have her until he abided by these terms. He will not lay even a finger on her until all his whores are gone, until there is no opium nor laudanum or morphine that he could use to drug himself out of his mind and one other thing he must sacrifice if he wishes to reenter heaven,

“Yes, though I will not be as kind and gentle as before. You angered your goddess by seeking a false idol, Thomas Shelby.” The dark-haired beauty reminds him of its far from over.

“Ask anything from your penitent husband, love. I’d give you half my kingdom if need be.” Shelby has always liked playing the devoted worshipper of the goddess who graced him with everything he squandered for nothing.

“I want every trace of her destroyed.”

Eva Shelby’s triumphant arrival at Arrow House greets her with a sober Tommy who has not touched a woman since that morning he asked what it would take for her to remarry him and everything Grace Shelby had in the home she only inhabited for a month piled up and doused in gasoline just for her.

“We’re bound by blood, čovexanii. If my god demands a sacrifice to forgive my sins, I will give it gladly.” Thomas Shelby hands her the lighter she gave them on their first Christmas together and allowed her to burn away a period of his life no one will be bothered to remember.

What is a piece of paper to blood pact? What is duty to love? What is the devil without his witch?

[onlyfezco]

Surrender - Fezco

Summary: Something felt off about Custer’s unannounced visit right before Lexi’s play. Thank God you were there when things went down. 

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 1,922

Author’s Note: This is just the season 2 finale without Ashtray dying. I hate the fact that he’s dead and Fez is probably going to jail. I don’t love this one, but I just wanted Ash to not die lol.

Fez always tried to keep you separate from his drug dealer life. You were never over when Mouse and Custer stopped by. You didn’t go with him to see his new supplier. Obviously you knew what he did. You knew his occupation before you two started dating. But the most involved you were, was sitting on the couch next to him at a party while he was dealing. That’s it. The less you knew, the better.

He said it was for your safety, which you respected. Especially after Rue told you what happened at Laurie’s on New Year’s Eve. You were grateful you missed that, but hate that Rue had to be there for it. 

All that was why you were confused when Custer stopped by. Of course you knew a little about Custer. You had to with his girlfriend currently living with your boyfriend and his little brother. You remember when you came over the first day after Faye started living with the boys. You saw some pink clothes tossed on the couch and immediately became annoyed and confused. Fezco just told you he owed his supplier a favor and couldn’t say no. You trusted Fez, but you felt he was leaving something out. Knowing it was on a need to know bases, you left it alone. You watched enough law shows to know if you didn’t know, you couldn’t get in trouble in court for not speaking up about something. 

Something felt off. 

Your hands ran down your flowy black dress with small white flowers printed all over smoothing out the wrinkles. You should be leaving for Lexi’s play now. 

“Babe, we should really get going.”

“Aiight, let me go put on my shoes and we can go.” Fez went back to his room.

You looked around and Ashtray was sitting near Custer. The intense look on his face made you have a weird feeling in your stomach. Ash didn’t trust many people. It took him forever to get used to you being around and sharing his brother. 

You step into the kitchen with Faye who doesn’t seemed too pleased that her boyfriend came over. Weird.

Faye and you weren’t best friends by any means, but you had grown to like her since she started living at the O’Neal house. You sympathized for her situation. A drug addict with a shitty boyfriend. Nowhere else to go when she got into trouble, but a drug dealing associate of said boyfriend who she didn’t even know. Plus Ashtray who wasn’t making this living situation ideal for any party involved.

“Is everything good,” Fez asked after he looked around the room and could feel the same tension you were feeling. 

“Yeah before you go, bro, I really have to talk to you about something,” Custer said. 

Fez sighed as he leaned on the counter. “Like what man?”

Custer paused for a beat. “Everything.”

You glanced at the two men super confused. You knew this wasn’t a conversation you should be listening too.

Custer put his cigarette down on the ashtray then turned around to look at Fez. “The fucking cops found Mouse’s body.”

Faye dropped her glass and you bent down to help her pick it up. There was a body. Is that why Fez had a new supplier? You looked at Faye wide eyed. She stared back at you then lifted her finger over her lips in a shhhing motion. Bile rose in your throat. You quickly stood up.

“Uh, Fez, I think I’m gonna go wait in the car,” you said completely interrupting them. Fez nodded having seen Faye’s hint to be quiet, but you knew Ashtray didn’t know. And knowing the boy as well as you did, you needed to get him out of there. “Ash,” you said louder than you intended, “you want to come wait with me?”

Ash’s eyes didn’t leave Custer. He was pissed. You quickly walked over to the boy, only barely hearing Custer’s next words asking Fez if he heard him. “Ash,” you said placing your hand on his shoulder shaking him a little so he’d look at you and get the sense of urgency you felt, “come wait with me.” He looked up at you, anger in his eyes. “Please,” you begged. Desperation so evident in your tone it made him want to do what you said. When he finally looked up at you, you glanced at Custer to make sure he wasn’t looking then copied Faye’s earlier gesture, placing your finger over your lips. Ash squinted at you then nodded in understanding. 

You grabbed his hand, something you had never done before, and pulled him along. Fez would handle it. He always handled it. Before you got too far away, you glanced at the coffee table noticing Custer’s phone. 

Before you made it out the room, you stopped and whispered to Fez. You didn’t care if Custer saw or thought it was weird.

“He’s recording us on his phone,” you said into your boyfriend’s ear. You pulled away and you both stared at each other for a brief moment before you continued out the living area. 

“Y/N,” Ash said stopping in his tracks dropping your hand.

“We gotta go, Ash.”

“I know but look,” he replied pointing to the security screens that showed the areas around the O’Neal home. The cameras weren’t showing anything. Someone moved them.

“Shit... Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“They’re already here,” Ash said softly. You never heard him sound like such a child in all the time that you’ve known him.

“Stay here,” you said, fear in your voice. “I’ll go tell your brother. He’ll know what do.”

Walking back to warn Fez, you heard Faye tell Custer that Laurie killed Mouse. It didn’t take much for you to figure out what actually happened. Mouse was murdered and one of your boys did it. Fez never said anything to you because he didn’t want you involved. You wanted to cry, but now wasn’t the time for tears.

You grabbed Fezco’s hand getting his attention, you voice low as you warned him. “I think the cops are here.”

Fez tilted his head, his jaw tight. 

“Take Faye and go wait with Ash at the door.”

Your eyes searched his. “What are you gonna do?”

“Make sure you stay safe.”

“I love you,” you said bluntly. You eyes glossing over with tears.

“I love you,” Fez replied, his tone serious. 

You went to the kitchen and grabbed Faye not saying a word. “I think it’s time you leave,” you heard Fez tell Custer.

“What,” Custer asked. “What are we gonna do about the cops?”

“Nothin’, cause I ain’t have anything to do with that. You heard your girl.” 

“Are you high,” Custer asked frustrated standing up. That was all you heard as you went to Ash. 

Everything finally became too much for you, the tears now falling from your eyes. “Ash, I don’t know what’s about to happen, but promise me, you’ll keep your mouth shut. I have an uncle who’s an attorney, I’ll call him and get y’all out of this.”

Ash shook his head. “I don’t know if an attorney is gonna fix this.”

You grabbed his shoulders, “Yes it will! It has too. We take it day by day. I just need us to survive this. If the cops come in here, there’s no telling what they’ll do. And besides, with what Faye said, all they got is drug charges right?”

Ash wanted to believe you so bad. He really did. But the odds never really worked in his favor. His mom left him at her dealer’s house as payment. Nate had their home raided. He acted too quick, killed Mouse, and left a witness in Custer. But he hated seeing you cry getting dragged into the mess he made. So he just nodded. “Yeah, probably.”

“No, probably! It will! I don’t know anything, I can’t say I saw something I didn’t. There probably isn’t even a body! Cops say they have evidence that don’t really have all the time to get you to talk. That’s why you can’t say anything until my uncle is with you. Do you hear me?”

Ash nodded, praying to a higher power he really didn’t believe in that you were right. “I hear you.”

“Okay,” you said. You pulled him into you for a hug. “I love you. I’ve never said it, but you know that right?”

That’s all it took for Ash to start crying. He hugged you back and replied, “I love you, too.” You kissed the top of his head, closing your eyes hoping this would all go away. 

You looked up at Faye while you continued to hold Ashtray. “You did good, Faye. Thank you.” 

Faye smiled at you. She wish she had said something sooner, but she was scared. She liked all of you. You treated her better than Custer ever did. Plus, Mouse was an asshole that the world was better off without.

Everything after that happened so quick. Fez came to where you all were and hugged both you and Ash. Squeezing you both tight until he let go to focus on Ash. He leaned down pressing his forehead on Ashtray’s speaking so only he could hear. “We’ll get out of this okay. Just be quiet and keep your head down. We’ll pin this on Laurie if we have too. I got rid of the hammer and the carpet with Mouse’s blood on it. They only have Custer’s word and he’s a dumbass dealer who’d say anything to protect himself.” 

Ashtray just nodded holding his brother. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

Fez nodded in return. He let go of his brother then turned to you. “I never wanted you in this mess, ma. I’m sorry.”

Your tears wouldn’t stop falling now. “I know,” you replied wrapping your arms around Fez’s neck holding him as tight as you possibly could. “I’m gonna call my uncle who’s a lawyer. I’m gonna get you both out of this. I promise.”

Fez just held you close. He was doubtful. He had a little hope that pinning Mouse’s murder on someone else would work. The police just wanted to put someone away. Didn’t matter if it was him, Custer, or Laurie. And if they pinned it on Laurie, any of her guys who didn’t get arrested with her would come after them.

“I love you, Y/N. Always” Fez said.

“I love you, too,” you replied, pulling back so he could look in your eyes and see how much you meant it. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’re gonna figure this out.”

Fez responded with a hard kiss. His hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers intertwined in your hair. You stayed pressed against him until he stopped. His eyes looking down at you somberly like he was trying to remember every detail of your face.

“We gotta surrender so they don’t come bustin’ in here.” You closed your eyes briefly before nodding. In a matter of 10 minutes your whole world had just gotten turned upside down. Now you were about to walk out of the place that gave you so much solace and peace with your hands up so the police wouldn’t  shoot you.

Fez let go of you, stepping away and taking one last look at you and Ash. He walked to door, his hand paused on the door nob as he took a deep breath. He slowly opened the door, immediately putting his hands up. 

“We surrender.” 

[zooophagous]

It was colder here than it ever was in Germany. At least as it ever was in the time Strauss had lived there, and he had a very, very lengthy memory. He had a very short memory when it came to modern amenities such as automobiles and their climate control systems, but nonetheless he was already very impatient with the few cold minutes it took for the heat to permeate the van and make it tolerable to be outside.

He huffed in his seat with his hands stuffed into his armpits, as if that would help- his own body nigh incapable of generating its own heat anymore. But reflexes do not die even when their host does. He swore that as he huffed, he saw his breath linger in the air as steam, as if the bitter chill of the air around him was even colder than the chill of the dead.

“Van Helsing. How many stops are on our list?”

“Just four. Those were the four people on the registry that haven’t checked in with their parole officers in a while. With any luck one of them is Sylvain’s blood bag.” Artemis mumbled in reply as she fought her seat belt with cold hands.

“And after that, we find a feed for me?”

“We’ll try to. Auntie is busy negotiating with a few clinics, but I can’t promise you anything Strauss. Blood is an expensive supply to get ahold of. I’m sorry.”

“Save your apologies. I only hope my mood remains agreeable until a solution is found.” He stared out the window with a sullen expression. His stomach was empty. Had been too, now, for some nights.

“Maybe if we find Sylvain’s blood bag we can convince them to donate to the cause as a token of appreciation for being freed from her.” Artemis rolled her eyes and set the van in motion slowly down the icy street in its back alley hiding place. “Not like they’d be a stranger to the notion.”

“Assuming we are correct and this mystery party even exists.” Strauss replied flatly. “I miss my mice. They were much more substantial than the ones in the safe house.”

“What mice? Strauss, have you been eating wild mice?”

“I am very curious what you think my alternative is. I am hungry, Van Helsing. Very, very hungry. If I did not sup on the mice I may be tempted to sup on you.”

Artemis sighed and rested her head on the steering wheel. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“That is really what you want to hear when your life is already crashing down around your ears, isn’t it? That your mate also wishes to maul you like a wild animal. No. My problems are my own. I did not need to further burden you by adding another to your pile.”

“Is it supposed to make me feel better to have my loved ones eating vermin?”

“Better the vermin than nothing at all. Better the vermin than you.”

Artemis paused and put the van back in park. “Is it?”

“Is what?”

“Is eating vermin better than eating from me? I mean, it’s hardly the first time I’ve bled for you.” She began to roll up her sleeve.

“You know very well that offering me your vein is a foolish, dangerous act.”

“Just because we don’t have sterile supplies doesn’t mean you have to latch directly on either. Just make a little cut and collect it in a cup or…”

“So now I am reduced to slicing you up, as if that is not harm?”

“It’s more harmful to me to see any more of my loved ones suffering.” She snapped. “I can’t fix auntie’s burnt leg. I can’t un-lose Troy. I can’t bring Gregor White back from the dead. But one thing I know I can do, Strauss. I can handle a damn vampire.”

She looked down at her arm with a silent, resolute resolve. “Just… a small cut right there by that big vein in the wrist. I can cover it with a bandage and a long sleeve. Auntie doesn’t have to know.”

Strauss looked wearily at her and down at her exposed hand and wrist. “Do not tempt me. Please. I am in no shape to resist.”

Even as he protested, he took her hand in his, eyeing the pale blue vein in her wrist with intensity. He rotated her hand in his till it faced upward in a supplicating gesture. With his free hand, he took the claw of his pointer finger and traced the line of her veins. Artemis braced herself and looked away. Gently, with all the care of a surgeon, Strauss drew his claw and gradually increased pressure until the sharp appendage split the skin.

Artemis let out a soft grunt of discomfort, but soon steadied herself by focusing on deep, metered breathing. The cut had been made, that was the hard part. Strauss pushed hard against her skin with his thumbs, bidding a bead of dark blood to rise to the surface and begin to run down her arm and into her palm, where it began to pool.

He took her hand to his lips and raked his cold tongue across it. It made her stomach twitch. She tried very hard not to gag. It was hardly the most intimate place that tongue had been. But this was different. Somehow more wrong, even if born out of necessity.

Strauss was shaking slightly as he took his feed. Mainly under the herculean effort not to use his teeth on her. He wanted to. Desperately. One had to focus though, on needs, and as in the past, focus on never taking more than those needs required. He had never demanded much from her, in feeds past. He would demand even less from her now.

He licked her hand clean, and then up her wrist to the point of entry, pressing his lips to it in a greedy kiss that sucked a few more precious drops from her. He paused to lick his lips, then stopped, stock still, staring at the wound he’d created.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to flip out and eat me.” Artemis chided sarcastically.

“Van Helsing. When you chased me, before, that time I had escaped into the wild and ran amok- how was it again that you came to find me?”

“It was Troy’s idea, actually. He knew you had a very particular safe food and that you’d be looking for it. Why?”

Strauss sat up in his seat and rolled his head back to stare at the van’s ceiling. He draped his claw over his face in exasperation. “God dammit. Van Helsing. I have been so incredibly stupid.”

“Can you be more specific?” She asked, shoving a napkin from the glove box against her cut to staunch the flow.

“Troy is a vegan. Troy does not cook. There are very few vegan restaurants in this city. If Troy lives, one of those restaurants has seen him.”

“Wait- you think he’s in town?”

“Why not? He has made it no secret that he harbors no love for the lycan lifestyle. I have no reason to believe he has changed his mind now. I remember he enjoys that curry from the Nepalese restaurant. It is nearby. We should try there first, yes?”

“Well, shit.” Artemis mumbled, apparently impressed. “You sound more sure about this than I do about any of our other leads. It’s not a bad place to look. Let’s go.”

“Yes. If this works he will no doubt be quite impressed. I got him back with his own trick.” Strauss sounded almost excited, the fresh feed had invigorated him. “I cannot wait to rub his nose in it.”

“Here’s hoping you get to.” The van was off once again, heading a different direction.

[skzsauce01]

What Was I Made For

Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.

Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin

A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”

“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”

You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.

On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars. 

You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”

“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”

“That was one time! Try again.”

He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”

For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor. 

He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”

“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”

“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”

Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.

“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.

“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.” 

Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”

Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”

“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”

While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.

When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.

“You seriously paid for these?” he says. 

“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”

“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?” 

You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”

He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.

Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”

And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”

Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.

To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”

“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”

“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”

He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art. 

“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”

“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”

He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”

“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”

Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.

He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.

You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.

Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it. 

You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.

Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.

Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.

In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.

Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.

When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card. 

“To make your studies less stressful,” he says. 

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.

“I love them.”

“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”

You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”

“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”

For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy. 

“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”

While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.

“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.

He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”

And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.

It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.

“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.

You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”

“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”

It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”

“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”

“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”

“I call Birdo.”

Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.

At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis. 

It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.

You choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“... No.”

You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”

You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?

Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.

Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”

“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”

A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.

“You’d hate it.”

“Story of my life.”

The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it? 

“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.

“I need to study,” you say.

He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Thank you.”

He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on. 

When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.

The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.

A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”

He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”

“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”

He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”

You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”

“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”

“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”

With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”

Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so. 

“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.

“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”

He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”

While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.

You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.

“Why’d you ask me about a party?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”

“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”

“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”

Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.” 

“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”

“Do you know any other ghosts?”

“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”

“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”

How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”

“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”

And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.

You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.

The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.

Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.

“Hey.”

No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”

You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.

As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right. 

To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—

You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate. 

I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.

You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it 

I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.

“Do you want to talk?”

Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.

“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”

“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work. 

“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”

“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”

You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.

Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”

“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”

“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”

“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”

“Are you?”

You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are. 

Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.

“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”

“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”

You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.

“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”

And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.

Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace. 

Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying. 

“Are you okay?” asks Seungmin.

“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s…”

It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.

Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”

He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”

“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”

Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.

EPILOGUE

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. 

You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to. 

“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”

You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.

“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”

It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.

In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.

I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.

Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.

Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.

To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—

I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.

[nthspecialll]

We have all seen the edits and drawings of Dutch with "I'm your man" by Mitiski, more specifically with the lyrics "you believe me like a god, I betray you like a man," but it is not just those lyrics that fits Dutch and practically the entirety of the gang.

(Warning I am not a huge Mitiski fan so I will just take the lyrics as they are without any deeper meaning and compare them to red dead to give them a deeper meaning)

While the whole "you believe me like a god" might make it sound like the "me" also sees themselves as a god as well or at least superior to the other party, that is not the case.

"You're an angel, I'm a dog

Or you're a dog and I'm your man."

This part hints at confusion between standing of the two parties. The "I" isn't sure about what their position is with the other party, either the "you" is an angel and themselves a dog, someone lesser, something lesser, or the "I" is a man and the "you" a dog. The "I" never put themselves as something eternal, they never claim to be unworldly or godly, instead they willingly put themselves underneath the "you" and only above them in the same way a man would an animal, a dynamic that while it might hold love also is clear on who is in control.

Dutch and Arthur's dynamic is constantly changing. On one hand, Arthur is a workhorse, the one Dutch sends our for his dirty work, the one Dutch knows he can control and make him do anything, on the other hand we have their family dynamic of Dutch saying that Arthur means more to him than what a son would and acting as if he is the best thing ever.

"You believe me like a god

I'll destroy you like I am."

While the "I" never sees themselves superior, the "you" puts the "I" on a pedestal, making them their god and the "I" takes advantage of that and destroys the "you." This is similar to Dutch and Arthur. Dutch was not a good man ever, while he and the others did do their Robinhood act, they were never good men, they killed, they robbed and they ruined, but Arthur saw Dutch as a god or a father more than a mere mentor and Dutch ruined Arthur for that in the end.

"I'm sorry I'm the one you love

No one will ever love me like you again."

The "I" knows they are bad, they know they are ruining the other and they know that they will never get the loyalty that the "you" gave them again. While this might not seem like Dutch and Arthur, it very much is in the end.

Dutch in the end when Arthur is dying seems angry, frustrated and conflicted, because while he is seeing his son dying, he knows there is something he does not know. While he feels angry that Arthur did what he did, he never did think Arthur was a "betrayer", he thought John was, he thought John was talking to the Pinkertons and had convinced Arthur that Dutch was bad. He felt sad that Arthur was dying because of John and his manipulation and he knows he will never find the loyalty Arthur gave him again from anyone, and he is right, even in 1911, he has yet to find someone like Arthur.

"So when you leave me, I should die

I deserve it, don't I?"

I am of the firm belief that Dutch spent a long while alone after Arthur's death because the newspapers while talking of him, do not mention another gang, only the old one, and in red dead one they speak as if Dutch's gang is fairly new which would also explain why the Agents were suddenly able to locate him, because he became active again.

This could be to lay low, or it could be because he was thinking over what he had done and what had happened, and considering how much Arthur meant to him it wouldnt be strange to say he might have spent some years in self hatred or pity.

"I can feel it gettin' near

Like flashlights comin' down the way

One day you'll figure me out

I'll meet judgment by the hounds."

This is where it gets a bit more tricky because I believe the "you" changes here, where "you" were Arthur before, it can now be seen as John.

In 1911 John is hunting down Javier and Bill, something Dutch no doubt knew and heard about, while he might have hoped to be able to defeat John, he would have known that John would come for him and he would be able to "see him come near" as he kills off the two others. Dutch knows one day John will be his end, one day John will figure him out and he will have to face the consequences of his actions.

"People always gave me love

Others were never to blame after all."

This is quite obvious how it comes to Dutch, they gave Dutch everything, they gave him their lives to lay if he so wish and in the end it was not their fault that the gang split up. No it was not Micah's fault, while Micah did manipulate, he never forced Dutch's hand, even without Micah Dutch would have lost himself down the road, it was in the end Dutch's fault.

"You believe me like a god

I'll betray you like a man."

John loved Dutch, maybe even more than Arthur, after all John is often seen as Dutch's son while Arthur is seen as Hosea's, not just by the fandom but the characters as well. We see characters call John Dutch's golden boy and his pet. It was also Arthur who had to convince John and truly let him see what Dutch was doing, to let him know that the concerns he had were true.

Dutch removed the noose from John's neck when John was twelve, saving him like a miracle, yet Dutch shot at John in the end like he was no one special, just another man to be put in the ground.

[arclundarchivist]

[Spoilers C3E103] Can we talk about…

How some of the party and members of the fandom are just kinda… ignoring how bad things are right now, and it’s wholly Ludinus’s fault??

Like there is this focus on what comes next, and Ashton’s belief that things will somehow *just get better*, but look the fuck around at what Ludinus did when it just comes to him reaching Predathos.

Wards destroyed, resurrection fucked, transportation and communication hamstrung.

They Key is mangling the leylines to the point where not matter *what* happens magic is going to be altered in a way it wasn’t before.

And that’s not even getting into the aggressive alien army he’s now letting run roughshod across Marquet.

If the Gods die/vanish, why is there this concept that those magics will just be fine, when shit is already fucked from his manipulations?

Something *ate* half of the Turst Fields, a farming community that was a staple for all of Tal’Dorei.

Desirat is free, which for those not in the know was trapped beneath a volcano directly next to Beau’s hometown and was the source of about of the geometric activity in the region. I can’t imagine things went *well* there.

*Something* sent sea monsters racing in fear towards the shore in Nicordranas, I’ll give you three guesses.

We saw what happened to that bastion in the Grey Valley, *what the fuck do you think has happened at Bazzozan* the former seat of the Demon Lords?

The Empire of fucked five ways to Sunday.

The Horn of Orcus may be waking up the dead beneath Vasselheim.

And that’s just the shit *we know about*

Is all of that just, what, gonna go back to normal if the Gods die/go away? Fuck no! Now I’ll admit, that doesn’t mean things will go back to normal if the Gods are victorious of course, but I wild bet good money shit would be easier to handle if a vast chunk of the world wasn’t also going through a vast identity/cultural crisis.

Also shit since we’re on hypotheticals let me ask another one.

Folks talk a lot about how divine magic will be fine if the gods vanish, not really acknowledge the colossal amount of trauma and confusion that will afflict every culture as they are abandoned/lose their gods, and we don’t actually know what kind of effect that will have on clerics.

What about the arcane?

Matt never said the Arcane predates the Gods. (Not that I’m aware of anyway.)

In fact if anything Downfall hammered home that the arcane is a creation of Tengar. They leave or die, what happens to it?

Also, shit think about this, wouldn’t the Gods want all the power they could to possibly survive Predathos? Now the Arc Heart, the gifter, not the creator, it seems, claims to be fine with being finite.

You wanna know who isn’t?

The Spider Queen, who if how things were presented in Downfall are true, claims to have given arcane magic to the Arc Heart and regrets it.

Do you think *she* wouldn’t snatch that back out of spite to give her even a bit of a chance to survive? She’s the *most* Betrayer, Betrayer.

I just can’t grasp Ashton’s mindset at all, or those that seem to be agreeing with him and I’m just staring at all the shit that has already gone wrong and wondering how shit doesn’t just get infinitely worse if such a colossal and drastic change takes place.

[oh-my-may]

LET'S TALK HSR PENACONY 2.1 (or rather, have my impressions and thoughts on the main quest and some other stuff)

First of all, I went out of it with so many thoughts and emotions. This is not gonna be spoiler free (duh).

ACHERON IS SO FUN TO PLAY. Like, really really fun. Finally Simulated Universe is not an annoying pain anymore, and much quicker too. Thanks to a good friend of mine her relics aren't too bad either. She's already so fun to play with Black Swan, can't wait for a Kafka rerun now 💀

Aa for the story now: I FUCKING KNEW MIKHAIL WAS THE WATCHMAKER. I KNEW IT. Now to wait for them to confirm that Misha is connected to him, either as a ghost of his past self or a child or some sort. It's the only way.

It's also really refreshing to see that HSR is giving 4star characters significant roles in the story. First it was Tingyun, now it's Gallagher (and maybe Misha? I'll die on this hill).

Loved the pacing. Story was quite long and lots of gameplay but didn't feel overwhelming at all, probably because we didn't just stick to the MC the whole time. The characters split up and we didn't just follow the express crew but also Aventurine, I really loved that. It felt so dynamic and immersive.

WELT AND ACHERON INTERACTION. BRO. The way I gasped the whole time. We still don't have a canon confirmation of how Raiden Mei and Acheron or just generally HI3rd and HSR are connected but it's sp clear that Acheron is by far the closest connection yet. So sp excited to find out more about this. Raiden Mei, I'll love you in every universe.

Aventurine and Ratio are also very interesting to me. What does Ratio gain by involving himself in all of this? What does he get out of it? Anyway, their little journey through the mansion was nice. GIGANTIC RATIO. The kinda stuff my dreams are made of tbh.

Generally the whole Aventurine story got me right from the beginning. He's generally one of the most interesting characters to me (although this game has plenty of them). I gotta admit of course I was suspicious of him (as one should be of all Penacony characters) but I liked him nevertheless. This patch supported my feelings, my GOD HE xkdjjdjdjd. The way I cried. Since I played the story so late ofc I saw some spoilers/screenshots of his backstory but I never expected it to hit me this hard. Just wow. His ending, too. It's so bitter. Kinda hope we get to see him again, since he'a mot really dead, right? Just in some limbo.

His boss fight was really something. Not a lot of different patterns, but I still had to try a bunch of different teams, since you're kinda fucked even with just a single single target character in your party. Had to unbench Clara, and I gotta say, she came through for me. I might not have used the most meta team, but it worked soooo...

And just as I was glad I had managed the fight they hit you with that big cut scene, woah. AND THEN WITH THE FIREFLY SCENE? AND SUNDAY????

First of all, apparently it was common knowledge among the community since last patch that Sam was Firefly. Yeah, I gwt it bc of the leaks and stuff. But I'm just so confused as to HOW. Like HOW and WHY and just generally HUH. I can't wait for them to explain this connection (if you're reading this and you wanna spoil me with non-confirmed stuff then leave it, please, I might as well wait another 3 weeks).

And then Gallagher and Sunday... Just as I was admiring Sunday's beauty because he might legit just be one of the most gorgeous male character designs... THEY KILL HIM. When I tell ypu I was SHOOK. Mouth agape and all. Didn't know what to do. What a cliffhanger.

Now I don't have a real theory as to what I think will happen. If I remember correctly they said the main story will stretch until 2.3, right? I really wonder what else will happen, the story already seemed so huge this patch and I really wonder how it'll conclude. There's still so many questions and stories. Might add on to this post later when I have more thoughts.

Also Aventurine's banner just dropped but as of writing this I haven't pulled yet. Might add a little post later about it.

For now, have some screenshots I took during the story:

ALSO I GOT AVENTURINE. SECOND 50/50 WIN IN A ROW IN THIS GAME HAVE I FINALLY BROKEN THE CURSE. Now for the long and treacherous road of farming his trace mats and relics ... Since I never really prefarm 🥲

A pic I took in my excitement. Forgot the screenshot button exists.

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor VII

chapter 7! read chapter 6 here

“y/n~i need to talk to you.”

“you always need to talk to me. talk to your other friends.”

“don’t get smart with me. i just wanted to remind you about the business trip i’m going on. i leave next wednesday.” jean worked with a company that providing them with relaxing trips out of the country twice a year because they know how taxing the job can be.

“where you going this time?”

“it’s actually a cruise, going to the bahamas. i’ll be gone for two weeks tho, much longer than last time.”

“two weeks??” that caught your attention. you were used to jean and his trips but you’ve never been left alone for two weeks.

“i figured you don’t need a babysitter because you’re 18 but some people will swing by to check on you.”

“you tell—“

“yes i told mom and dad. they’ll come check on you and if you get scared just stay over there.”

“anything else i need to know?”

“nope, think that’s all. love you!” jean closed the door behind him. although it was only tuesday and he had about a week to prepare, it shouldn’t worry him about leaving you. he knew that you were a good kid, you don’t cause trouble , and you’re practically already independent apart from you living with him. so he didn’t know why he was feeling weird about all of this.

later on that day, you called tia to have your daily conversation and some interesting things were brought up.

“you said he said what now?”

“just reposting tweets n shit and relationships, talkin bout some ‘i’ll take my old bitch over a new bitch any day’” the dude in question was your ex you dated for two years until he cheated. he was your first and last boyfriend and luckily you hadn’t lost your virginity to him or else you’d be going mad even now.

“a weirdo for real. remind me why you follow him again?”

she shrugged. “to be nosy. give us something to talk about.”

“valid.”

“your brother still going on the trip thingy?”

“yeah, why?”

“just asking. don’t he always go around the same time?”

“yeah but i didn’t think you were paying attention. he’s gonna be gone for two weeks this time.”

“two weeks?? oh you’ll be dead before he gets back.”

“don’t say that! i can handle myself fine for two weeks.”

“you don’t even sound like you believe yourself. but look at the bright side,” you rolled your eyes as you already knew what would come next. “connie can come over without any interruptions and he’ll stay and keep you company, and then~” tia started clapping her hands and moaning.

you laughed. “i fucking hate you. i don’t even think about him like that, he 22.”

“so? older dick be the best dick.”

“i’m gonna hang up on you.”

“it’s okay if you wanna hang up on me to call your man.”

“i don’t have a man.”

“sure..”

next wednesday rolled around quicker than you thought and it didn’t seem real to you up until you saw your brother all packed up in suit and tie.

“why you dressed up? i thought you were going on the trip to relax.”

“there’s a meeting right before we board the plane.” you nodded as you watched your brother put on his dress shoes. “are you sure you’ll be okay? you’ll call or text if you need anything right?”

“yes, i’ll be okay. just have fun.”

“i already called everyone to let them know so some one would be there everyday to check on you. and don’t throw any parties or anything while i’m gone.”

“i’ll try not to.” you joked. but he knew you weren’t like that. the most you’d probably do is have tia sleep over or something and just the two of you do stupid shit in the comfort of your own home.

“well,” he started as you helped him load the last of his things in his car. “i love you, i’ll be back in two weeks. i’ll call and text everyday, just don’t die on me.” he laughed while he pulled you into a tight embrace

“i won’t die, promise.”

after the both of you struggled to let go, you bid him a formal farewell as you watched him back out the parking lot, “love you too, be safe!”

after all that, it was weird having the place to yourself but you’d just operate how you would normally do. the only difference was that jean wasn’t present and you had to get used to that. but as he said, over the two weeks, people came to check on you every day.

you had visits from your older stepbrother elliot snd his girlfriend, your mom, your stepdad, and even your biological dad who really just started speaking to you after your mom remarried. but family wasn’t the only people who were there for you. you had visits from sasha who you’d hang out with from time to time, and sleepovers with your friend tia. but one person you really should’ve saw coming was connie. but you didn’t know how you felt just yet.

“y/n~” you heard connie call out to you from your room but he stopped in the doorway when he made it. “your brother told me to—“

“check up on me?”

“yeah, but.. a little more than that.”

“what?”

“he gave me a key, see?” he held it up proudly but you were shocked and maybe a bit upset.

“when did he give you a key? and why?” connie walked into your room and sat at the chair by your desk.

“he wants me to check on you

everyday—“

“people do that already.”

“yeah but he wants me to check on you everyday.. for multiple times a day.”

“so i don’t have a choice.. but to see you everyday?”

“multiple times a day, yes.” he smiles. “but that makes it easier for us to get to know each other.”

“don’t you have things to do? like work or..?”

“yeah but i’ll just come here after.” you rolled your eyes. although jean suspected that connie was trying something with you, he still trusted connie to keep you safe if anything else.

“whatever.” you went back to whatever you were doing.

“right,” connie stood up to walk out the room. “and imma need your number or something.”

“to track me?”

“no, just to keep in contact with you. weirdo.” he laughed. you were the weirdo? you ended up putting your number in his phone and he put his number in yours. “i turned locations on by the way. i’ll be back, bye!” he left before you could even get on him about it.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Six Song Soundtrack Game!

Thank you so much for the tag, @thelovelymachinery (here)! Also...OMG THIS IS EXACTLY MY TYPE OF TAG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

TW. One of the songs in this soundtrack includes allusions to self harm (not to graphic), proceed with caution.

Let's go with: Noah Mallory, Fabian Styrling, Arden Ellis and Randall Sloanne from Crash Stardom!

Noah Mallory

Full Playlist Here

Event that defines your character's past: Death of a Hero - Alec Benjamin

I was in Pittsburgh when I saw Superman in the backroom He was doing lines or something in the bathroom I barely recognized him at all I saw him doing things you shouldn't do with all that power I wish someone would have thrown him in the shower I barely recognized him at all That night I put my youth in a casket And buried it inside of me That night I saw through all the magic Now I'm a witness to the death of a hero I burned all the pictures in the attic And threw away the magazines That night I saw through all the magic And now I'm a witness to the death of a hero I tried to look away but you can't look away from a trainwreck

How your character sees themselves: I'm Not Famous - AJR

Where my haters, where my haters? I don't got 'em, I'm not famous, no It don't matter what my name is I don't got one, I'm not famous, no And I don't hate it, no You've never heard of me Or the weird shit I do and say That's my favorite thing That I'm not famous, no And I'm never on TV Throwing up on an LA street Nobody judges me 'Cause I'm not famous, no Paparazzi is at an all time lowPaparazzi, they don't care where I go

How others view them: People I Don't Like - UPSAHL

Hello, it's so good to see you We met before but nice to meet you Yeah, I don't really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah What's my name? Do you remember? I'm pretty sure you have my number So let's pretend we like each other like, ah-ah-ah-ah This room is so suffocating Walking on ice, but nobody breaks it Stuck in this one-way conversation Guess I'll be here for a while And you're blowing smoke in my face And telling me all about your paycheck Take a shot with a fake smile to chase it Guess I'll take another round Everybody in this party's fucking fake I really wish that I could say it to your face But I won't, so Hello, it's so good to see you

Their closest relationship: Soldier - Gavin DeGraw

I'll get it if you need it, I'll search if you don't see it, You're thirsty, I'll be rain, You get hurt, I'll take your pain. I know you don't believe it, But I said it and I still mean it, When you heard what I told you, When you get worried I'll be your soldier. Funny when times get hard, At the last moment when you're supposed to charge, Always on the longest yard, Oh, they feel their feet getting cold. Hiding here, hiding there, Find them underneath the stairs, People hiding everywhere, Trying to be still like a stone.

A major fight scene: You've Created a Monster - Bohnes

Breathe in, now the prey becomes the hunter Screamin', raise the dead and bring the thunder You've created a monster I just keep getting stronger Nightmare, I'm gonna haunt you You've created a monster I just keep getting stronger Nightmare, I'm gonna haunt you You've created a monster You've created a monster You've created a monster Fighting pushed me to the point of breaking Biting, clawing for the crown I'm taking [...] Look what you've done Look what you've done Look what you've done

End Credit Scene: Ordinary Life - Simple Plan

It's just another Monday I'm just another face in a faceless crowd I'm going down one-way Caught up in the machine And I'm spit right out I'm living in a rat race I'm looking for my soul in the lost-and-found I'm sitting in the same spot Counting every tick-tock Gotta hit the punch clock When's it gonna stop-stop? Another day in black and white One, two, three, four, five Another week goes by I'm half alive I'm getting sick of faking this I'm over it Don't wanna wear no suit and tie Gotta live before I die So I'm done, done, done With this ordinary life What happened to the someday? What happened to the dreams of the wide-eyed kid? Don't tell me that it's too late Don't tell me that I can't cause you never did

Fabian Styrling

Full Playlist Here

Event that defines your character's past: Fallen Angel - Three Days Grace

Late at night I could hear the crying I hear it all, trying to fall asleep When all the love around you is dying How do you stay so strong? How did you hide it all for so long? How can I take the pain away? How can I save A fallen angel, in the dark Never thought you'd fall so far Fallen angel, close your eyes I won't let you fall tonight Fallen angel You do it all for my own protection You make me feel like I'll be okay Still I have so many questions [...] I was right beside you When you went to hell and back again I was right beside you When you went to hell and back again And I, I couldn't save, a fallen angel

How your character sees themselves: Numb - 8 Graves

All I want is to feel a bit We could fall in love, you could slit my wrist I could tell you now that they both 'gonn feel the same I've been wide awake, I've been blacking out I've been locked away, could you let me out? 'Cause I've grown so tired of existing in this cage I remember when I used to feel (it was beautiful) But I guess that's something you can steal (and I lost it all) Now nothing seems to feel too real (unbelievable) What have I been running from? How did I become so numb? I'm so numb I give up What have I been running from? How did I become so numb? All I want is a night of sleep You could knock me out, I could rest in peace I don't mind if I get to close my eyes I've been day to day, I've been dying slow If you find a way, could you let me know? My confusion no longer comes as a surprise

How others view them: La Da Dee - Cody Simpson

There's no way to say this song's about someone else Every time you're not in my arms I start to lose myself Someone please pass me my shades Don't let 'em see me down You have taken over my days So tonight I'm going out Yet I'm feeling like There is no better place than right by your side I had a little taste And I'll only spoil the party anyway 'Cause all the girls are looking fine But you're the only one on my mind La da dee La da dee doo La da dee me La da dee you La da dee La da dee doo There's only me There's only you

Their closest relationship: What Have They Done To Us? - Mako, Grey

As you wake up in a cold sweat *Little girl, what goes on in your head? All this hatred in your heart, yet I mourn the most for all the things that I never said Don't make me go through this again You're not real and I can't pretend This story is over, I ripped out the end Tell me, who are you, then? What have they done to us?

PS. *Except in Fabian's case it would be 'Big brother, what goes on in your head?' addresed to Arden, his biological cousin who raised Fabian and was like an adoptive older brother to him.

A major fight scene: Russian Roulette - Tungevaag

Looked up across the smoke filled room Felt the tension build This night has only just begun So here we go You gotta, just feel the energy You gotta, just know who the enemy is We are hungry for adrenaline We're about to go insane, you'll see Bring out the guns, we love the danger One, two, three, just pull the trigger One bullet left inside the chamber Let us play some Russian Roulette Roulette

End credit scene: Runnin' - Adam Lambert

Steel to my trembling lips How did the night ever get like this? One shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down Bottom of the bottle hits Waking up my mind as I throw a fit The breakin' is takin' me down, down, down My heart's beating faster I know what I'm after I've been standing here my whole life Everything I've seen twice Now it's time I realized It's spinning back around now On this road I'm crawlin' Save me cause I'm fallin' Now I can't seem to breathe right 'Cause I keep runnin' runnin' runnin' runnin' Runnin' runnin' runnin' runnin' Runnin' from my heart 'Round and around I go Addicted to the numb livin' in the cold The higher, the lower, the down, down, down Sick of being tired and sick Of waiting for another kind of fix The damage is damning me down, down, down My heart's beating faster I know what I'm after

Arden Ellis

Full Playlists: 1 and 2

Event that defines your character's past: Tag You're It - Melanie Martinez

Looking at me through your window Boy, you had your eye out for a little "I'll cut you up and make you dinner You've reached the end, you are the winner" Rolling down your tinted window Driving next to me real slow, he said "Let me take you for a joyride I've got some candy for you inside" Running through the parking lot He chased me and he wouldn't stop Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it Grabbed my hand, pushed me down Took the words right out my mouth Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it Can anybody hear me when I'm hidden underground? Can anybody hear me? Am I talking to myself? Saying, "Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it" He's saying, "Tag, you're it, tag, tag, you're it" Little bit of poison in me I can taste your skin in my teeth "I love it when I hear you breathing I hope to God you're never leaving"

How your character sees themselves: Everybody Hates You - Citizen Soldier

Everybody hates you Breathe in, breathe out My middle name is nervous breakdown I sure could use a friend Cheaper than Vicodin Fake lives, fake love Got money but I still feel bankrupt It's so hard to fit in When there's no oxygen What the hell is wrong with me? Overthinking reality Calm down, it'll be okay But the voices in my head say La-la loser, you've got no friends Nobody gives a damn 'Cause everybody hates you, everybody hates you La-la loser, please just go home 'Cause you're gonna die alone 'Cause everybody hates you, everybody hates you Everybody hates you, everybody hates you Last call, wasted My mental state is complicated I'd drive right off a cliff If I thought I'd be missed Dark jokes, jaded Sarcasm that is calculated The hate don't resonate If I self-deprecate

How others view them: (As Arden Ellis) For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert

So hot, out the box Can we pick up the pace? Turn it up, heat it up I need to be entertained Push the limit, are you with it? Baby, don't be afraid I'ma hurt ya real good, baby Let's go, it's my show Baby, do what I say Don't trip off the glitz That I'm gonna display I told ya I'ma hold ya down until you're amazed Give it to ya 'til you're screaming my name No escaping when I start Once I'm in, I own your heart There's no way you'll ring the alarm So hold on until it's over Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do? 'Cause it's about to get rough for you I'm here for your entertainment Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet You thought an angel swept you off your feet Well, I'm about to turn up the heat I'm here for your entertainment It's alright, you'll be fine Baby, I'm in control Take the pain, take the pleasure I'm the master of both Close your eyes, not your mind Let me into your soul I'ma work ya 'til your totally blown

(As The Shutterman) Nowhere to Run - Stegossaurus Rex

You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you Feeling all blue, I've got no more time They all hate me because of my crime Their threats come at me, their voices are loud All to condemn me, my face is still proud You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You were my good friend, I saved you before I thought you turned good now, but you asked for some more You had to provoke me, so I beat you Watched your skull bleed, so now I feel blue You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you

Their closest relationship: If I killed someone for you - Alec Benjamin

I'm sorry that I did this The blood is on my hands I stare at my reflection I don't know who I am Practice my confession In case I take the stand I'll say I learned my lesson I'll be a better man I'm packing up my things And I'm wiping down the walls I'm rinsing off my clothes And I'm walking through the halls **I did it all for her So I felt nothing at all I don't know what she'll say So I'll ask her when she calls Would you love me more (Would you love me more) If I killed someone for you? Would you hold my hand? (Would you hold my hand?) They're the same ones that I used When I killed someone for you Would you turn me in (Would you turn me in) When they say I'm on the loose? Would you hide me when (Would you hide me when) My face is on the news? 'Cause I killed someone for you I hear the sirens coming I see the flashing lights I'm driving through the suburbs Wearing my disguise

PS. **In their case this paragraph would be

I did it all for him So I felt nothing at all I don't know what he'll say So I'll ask him when he calls

Because Arden started killing the mob to protect Fabian and themself.

A major fight scene: You Can't Hide - FNAF

I hear a sound (It's prolly just a mouse) I see them in the dark (I only saw a spark) I know there's someone there (Not as far as I'm aware) Why don't you believe me? Maybe you're right (It's just another night) But I heard a creak (Just go back to sleep) I'm always quick to rage (So go back to your stage) (Wait, now I hear it) RUN What's that sound? I know someone's there Hiding in the shadows Thinking I was unaware Who's that I see? The birthday boy to be Let's invite him over Hurry up before he's bolder Oh Bon-Bon Let's make this fun You can't deter me this time No I'm done I won't go back to my stage It's my new trend Well, let's go say hi to the new friend I knew I was right to think I would find you over here Well isn't it intriguing that You seem to be just a little bit weary Of Bon-Bon and me Well there's no need We know you want to deactivate us But we just can't let that happen Every night always, it never changes But we can make accidents happen We can make accidents happen

End credit scene: The Joker - Lady Gaga

There's always a joker in the pack There's always a lonely clown The poor laughing fool falls on his back And everyone laughs when he's down There's always a funny man in the game But he's only funny by mistake And everyone laughs at him just the same They don't see his lonely heart break They don't care as long as there is a jester Just a fool, as foolish as he can be There's always a joker, that's the rule But fate deals the hand that I see The joker is me, the joker is me! The joker is me, the joker is me! The joker is me Drink the poison 'cause there's always a loser in the game The court loves to watch them cry The royal shouts, this Queen needs to sing To ruffle the scene of the crime

Randall Sloanne

Event that defines your character's past: The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid

Hold still, my sweet I'm trying to measure the space between Your molar and your jaw This caliper No cause for fear, no, it, it doesn't hurt It only helps me measure How much skin you have Oh, and the topmost layer of fat But I won't make an incision 'Til you're nice and numb Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun Please don't doubt my decision This'll be, ooh, this'll be, aah This'll be absolutely, whee This'll be nice, this'll be neat And bring you closer to me So, don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me Refreshing for me, yeah

How your character sees themselves: Gladiator - Zayde Wolf

Let me back it up to the start of the climb Faced with an army of vipers and lions I had to keep on reaching up, 'cause it was my time To tear down the kingdom, call out the liars Got a jail on my heart from the pessimists Got those nails in my mouth for impressionists Spent too much money on a therapist Couldn't fix me, I accepted it Gladiator, gladiator, gladiator Picked a fight with the gods, I'm the giant slayer Bone shaker, dominator Freight train, wrecking ball, I'm the gladiator La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Tell me what it is that you think you believe Caught in a cross fire, trouble at sea Every single day I feel that gold underneath I see the locked doors, but I got the key I'ma give you a second just to catch your breath 'Cause I can see that your heart is jumping out your chest I know you gave it all, 'cause I've already seen your best It is time you accepted this

How others view them: Monster - Willyecho

Ah, you're a monster I can see the truth No, you don't have to lie to me Don't fill your head with things and think you're free I can smell the fear I think you made clear, yeah I can be rude, be in a mood, I can be rotten I can be cruel, might act a fool, but never forgotten Creeping in the dark waiting for you You won't like what you see Yeah, I feel like a monster And I'm just here to haunt ya I become your nightmare steppin' in your dreams I'm the definition of the worst kind of mean Yeah, I feel like a monster And I'm just here to haunt ya I become your nightmare steppin' in your dreams I'm the definition of the worst kind of mean Yeah, I feel like a Monster! Monster! Monster! Yeah, I feel like a- You can't hold me back Yeah, I'm coming for ya I'm a heater on ya, no I'm just telling you the facts Oh, these chains can't keep me down, yeah

Their closest relationship: Your Guardian Angel - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

When I see your smile Tears run down my face I can't replace And now that I'm strong I have figured out How this world turns cold And it breaks through my soul and I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one I will never let you fall I'll stand up with you forever I'll be there for you through it all Even if saving you sends me to heaven It's okay It's okay It's okay Seasons are changing and waves are crashing and Stars are falling all for us Days grow longer and nights grow shorter I can show you I'll be the one I will never let you fall I'll stand up with you forever I'll be there for you through it all Even if saving you sends me to heaven

A major fight scene: Killer In The Mirror - Set It Off

Look out, they're closing in on you now Wake up, or you'll wake up six feet down Nobody's got your back in this town Knock 'em in the teeth now Out here, there's no negotiation No room to start a conversation Before you get a taste, it's taken Never let you guard down Get back, put your hands up, kinda messed up, but it's tough luck And I'm sorry, but I don't feel bad for you 'Cause I know if you could switch this You'd be dishing out the same shit Saying sorry, but I don't feel bad Now I know there's no one I can trust I used to think there was Tell me that I'm cutthroat I think you got your eyes closed Feel the fear and swallow back the tears Let weakness disappear There's nobody but me here The killer in the mirror Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror Killer in the, killer in the, killer in the mirror Where did all of the good people go? They hide behind the bars on windows In hopes they can forget we're close Trying to get some of what they've got 'Cause I used to believe in justice A place where there was better judgment But now I'm feeling so disgusted By the "have its" and the "have nots

End credit scene: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea - Missio

The berth surrounding my body, crushing every bit of bone The salt, it seeps in through the pores of my open skin I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue Welcome to my cage, little lover Attempt to rearrange with you, baby Still don't know your name, miss honey Let's go up in flames, pretty lady The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind? I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue Welcome to my cage, little lover Attempt to rearrange with you, baby Still don't know your name, miss honey Let's go up in flames, pretty lady Welcome to my cage, little lover Attempt to rearrange with you, baby Still don't know your name, miss honey Let's go up in flames, pretty lady The bottom of the deep blue sea

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[solitaryearthperson]

Us?

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black/person of color.)

"What do you think it is," (Y/N) asked, turning a page in the manga they were reading. They didn't bother looking up from it when Chishiya answered, eyes too focused on the images below them.

"That has us here?" He asked, keeping his eyes focused on the phone in his hand. He was able to change it into a DIY taser and use it in the last game he was in, but the charge he used had quickly drained it, and he knew needed to fix it before the next game.

"Yeah. Do you think it's...like aliens? God? A God? Or maybe we're dead or something?" They closed the manga and looked up from it to see Chishiya still sitting in his chair at the hotel desk, the back of his head facing them.

"Dead?" He questioned, amusement noticeable in his usual bored and monotone voice.

"Yeah," (Y/N) sat up on the hotel bed and looked towards the window, noticing the sun was beginning to set, and soon the other Beach guests would begin their nightly partying. "What if this is the afterlife or limbo?"

"How can we all already be dead if we die in these games?"

"Well...I don't know," They answered, climbing off the bed and walking towards the window. Looking down, they saw by the pool the guests already gathering around and the DJ setting up his equipment.

"Maybe it's aliens then?"

"Aliens?"

"Yeah. Maybe we've all been abducted and dropped here to play horrible games for some type of bigger game of theirs. That could explain those lasers, the weird games, the fact that this city is abandoned and somehow this place has food and electricity for-" They stopped talking, realizing that they had begun to ramble. Looking away from the window and to Chishiya, they found that he had quietly abandoned what he was doing and was now looking up at them from the chair, his face devoid of emotions per usual. The only indication that he was listening to them, and not just letting them speak is the small sign of emotion in his eyes. Emotions were rarely ever seen on Chishiya, and when they were, it was surprising to see. Right now, he looked at them with a mix of amusement and surprise, another emotion rarely ever seen in him.

"What?" They asked, getting nervous at his continued stare and silence.

"You've thought about this a lot," He asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile.

"Maybe," (Y/N) replied, taking a seat onto the windowsill. "It's hard not to think about besides the games."

He didn't verbally respond to that, only nodding his head in understanding. For a brief moment, (Y/N) wondered if he ever thought about the games and the things he's seen and done in them. He always comes off as cool, collected, and never fazed by anything. Never by the screams, the blood and guts, the deaths, or betrayals. He was always calm. So calm that it sometimes unnerved them.

No one can be that calm all the time, (Y/N) thought, noticing how relaxed he was in the chair. He has to be bothered by some parts of what's going on.

"Do you think about it," They asked.

"About what? Why we're here?"

"Yeah, but also the games. What we do here. Does any of it bother you?"

He was quiet for a second, his eyes drifting away from (Y/N) in momentary thought, before returning back to them. "No, not really. What we do here doesn't matter. All that matters is completing the games, getting the cards, and finding a way to leave."

Oh yeah, the cards, They remembered his plan to take Hatter's cards and hopefully be the first one to return home.

"You do know that Hatter's theory about the cards is just that- a theory," (Y/N) reminded him. "We don't know if it'll work or not. What will you do if it doesn't?"

They weren't that bothered by Chishiya's plan, only concerned about whether it will work or not. If the plan did work and he would be the first to go home, they wondered if he would take them and Kuina with him. While he wasn't an emotional or friendly person usually, they could tell that slowly over time he had become slightly attached to Kuina, and (hopefully) theirself.

Hopefully my feelings aren't clouding my judgement about him, (Y/N) thought.

"If it doesn't, then I'll make another plan for us."

That's not surprising. It may not seem like it because of his relaxed and bored demeanor all the time, but (Y/N) quickly learned that Chishiya is quite a persistent person, and if he wants something or suspects someone of something, he is incredibly determined to- Wait did he say 'us?'

"Us?" They questioned.

"Yep," he nodded his head, the smile he had now growing into a smirk. He spinned the chair back around to the desk, and picked up the phone, beginning to tinker with it again when he continued, "Me and you."

Hearing the amusement in his voice, a sudden smile came to their face, and looking back out the window, down to the party, the persistent thoughts about the games, deaths, and the theories of all of their arrivals to the Borderlands didn't really bother them anymore.