#“we had a funeral for you it was really sad” “well i'm alive now so”

[oh-meow-swirls]

imagine being nate/katie n just having to deal with world-ending schemes or whatever four summers in a row. possibly just over the span of like three summers-

[kissorkill16]

Real Friends: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Lucy and Mya have to remind Nicky who his real friends are.

Nicky threw his bedroom door open, holding his stomach.

He didn't know why, but after he ate anything, all he felt like doing was throwing up. He didn't know why. He thought it was just a stomach bug, but each time, it got more violent.

He didn't want to tell his parents, he knew they wouldn't listen. They never did.

Nicky took a very deep breath, and let it out slowly. Somehow, that seemed to calm his stomach down. Once he was calmed down enough, he got into bed, and tried to get comfortable, but something else was bothering him.

He felt a chill up his spine, and he turned around to see his window open.

Didn't he close it?

He got up and closed it, and this time, he made sure he locked it. He turned around to go back to bed, but then he saw something in the corner of his bedroom.

"Hey, Nicky. Remember me?"

Nicky jumped back, falling on his bed. He'd been seeing that same shadow in his room ever since he got home from the basement. And it wasn't just his room, it was everywhere he went. No matter where he looked, he saw that same creepy shadow.

And every time he saw this shadow, it would always take the form of his two dead friends. Lucy Yi and Mya Peterson.

"We missed you, Nicky.", said Mya, sounding sad. She extended her arms out to him, "Let me give you a hug."

Nicky backed up into the wall, cornering himself between the wall and Mya, and she trapped him in her dark arms. This hug wasn't anywhere near comforting. It was before, when she was alive, but not anymore.

"Why won't you let me hold you, Nicky?", Mya asked, "Don't you love us anymore?"

Lucy leaned back against the wall, "Obviously not, Mya. If he really loved us, he'd let Crowface kill him."

Nicky pushed Mya away, getting up from his bed. "Lucy, how could you say that?!", he angrily asked.

"If you really loved us, if Aaron really loved us, then you guys would do anything to be with us again, even kill yourselves. You two have done nothing to be with us again, so of course we had to be mean to you.", Lucy said. "If driving you to the brink of insanity didn't kill you, then I thought maybe Crowface would. But then you got scared when he threatened you, and now I'm really mad."

Lucy stopped talking normally, and started growling.

"Lucy, I'm sorry. I really do love you guys. But I don't want to die.", said Nicky, afraid.

"But death is the only way we can be together again.", said Mya. "We're your best friends, Nicky."

Nicky turned to look at Mya, "I know, Mya. But if I kill myself, how do you think everyone else would feel? I have parents, and I have other friends here."

"Who? These friends?", said Lucy.

Nicky turned to look at Lucy, staring at the picture of him, Enzo, Maritza, and Ivan.

It was their first club meeting, and they were all so happy together. Nothing mattered back then. Mr. Peterson didn't matter to them, well, he didn't matter to anyone except Nicky. Curses didn't matter, death didn't matter, everyone was just happy and care free.

"These are the people you want as your friends? People who never cared about you enough to try and save you from Mr. Peterson?", growled Lucy, snatching the picture off the wall and shoving it in Nicky's face. "You're pathetic."

"Lucy, please -"

"Enzo is a coward, Maritza is a jerk, and Ivan is just as much of a coward as Enzo.", snapped the girl, "And if you weren't being such a doormat to these people, you were being a scapegoat for your grandma!"

"Ugh! Don't even bring up the grandmother.", said Mya. "You told us yourself that he was always such a meanie to you, from the moment you were born."

"I know, but I was being mean to her. I even told her I hated her at Lucy's funeral, and I regret it more than anything.", said Nicky, his voice cracking and his eyes filling with tears. He wiped them away before he continued, "And I would do anything to see her again, I'd do anything to see you guys again, but I don't want to die."

Lucy balled her fist, clenched her teeth, and growled at Nicky. "You're a pathetic, naive, disgusting little liar.", she threw the picture to the ground, earning a loud crash and bang as the glass broke on the floor.

Nicky leaned down, trying to pick up the picture, miraculously not scraping himself on the broken glass. "Lucy, what the hell?! That -"

Lucy slapped Nicky across the face, watching him fall to the floor. "If you won't kill yourself, then we'll have to kill you ourselves. Mya, get him!", she said.

The two shadows emerged into one taller, skinnier shadow.

Nicky ran to his door, trying to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

But he didn't remember locking it! So how the hell was it locked?!

A bang on his window startled him from his thoughts, and he turned around to see not only the shadow gone, but rocks being thrown at his window.

He walked to his window to see who it was, and his eyes lit up when he saw his friends. Trinity, Maritza, Ivan, Enzo, even Delroy was here, and they weren't even friends.

He opened his window to see what they wanted.

[impossibleprincess35]

hi I wanted to know what you think of Rako Hardeen's arc. We never saw a resolution to this with Satine, I say she cried and what do you think Satine's reaction would be?

Hey there! Thanks for the ask! :)

I've given this a lot of thought, so please forgive me for the long ass rambling I'm about to do.

And also, in general to everyone, I'm not an expert, I don't claim to be one, I don't consider myself to be an authority on SW, Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Obitine ship, or anything of the sort; I'm just a dork who thinks about these characters way too much.

Based on canon, both Satine and Obi-Wan had an understanding that their love for Mandalore and the Jedi Order took precedence over their mutual feelings, however, I firmly believe that in "Voyage of Temptation" when she makes her declaration of love and he reciprocates by telling her he would have left the Order, that is the moment that supports the idea that they were both still in love.

That being said, they resigned themselves to the fact that they couldn't be together, and I think that genuinely, deep down, they were at peace with their decisions.

But it's also noted in canon ("Brotherhood" by Mike Chen, as well as general lore) that Obi-Wan thought of her from time to time, even taking the nickname she gave him ("Ben") when he went into exile. I can't imagine Satine didn't think of him sometimes, too.

So, it's because of all this that I think the grief Satine felt over Obi-Wan's death probably devastated her in private.

My perception of her is that while she's very comfortable with anger and she wears that emotion on her sleeve, deep down, she's a bit of a softie and anger is a defense mechanism to hide her sadness, fear, etc.; so, for her to cry openly over his shrouded body, in the Jedi Temple nonetheless, his death had to have messed her up a bit. (I mean, it would have been easier if she had just ranted about it like, "We must take a stand against violence of all kinds and prevent senseless deaths like this!" but instead, we see her mourn in the ep.)

After it all went down, though, I like to believe that there was a private conversation between the two of them, a moment for him to come clean about the ruse. There are a lot of takes on it where others think Satine reacted by slapping or punching him, but I disagree. I'm sure she wanted to do that, but IMHO, I think she would have put up a wall and given him an Ice Queen routine for a bit, ignoring his coms, pretending he doesn't exist, that sort of thing, rather than lash out physically. (Just my take! Nothing wrong with others!)

I'm also think Satine felt many things when she learned he was really alive: Relief, sure. Rage, of course. Annoyance and humiliation, too. After all, she had been summoned from Sundari to his funeral and she had sobbed publicly for him! She probably felt as if she had been taken advantage of, and I'm sure she had choice words for the Jedi Order for making a mockery out of the mourners.

Ultimately, though, I think that once cooler heads prevailed, Satine would have chalked the Rako Hardeen spectacle up to one thing: Duty. They chose their individual duties over love, and while it might have been in poor judgment to go along with faking his death, it was what was asked of him, and I think she understood that better than anyone else.

It feels so dumb for me to have written out all of this, but like I said, I've mulled over this story arc for so long, and it lives in my head rent free.

I'm going to touch grass now! Thanks for the ask! I love talking about these characters, and this was fun! :)

[wallcrawld]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

ㅤㅤKEEP THE RAIN by searows ----- i don't know what steps to take / i do the easy ones until it helps / little acts of conversation / i don't think i really like myself / am i comfortable in silence? / or is it eating me alive? / nothing's ever really quiet / when you need distraction to survive

ㅤㅤFUNERAL by phoebe bridgers ----- i'm singin' at a funeral tomorrow / for a kid a year older than me / and I've been talkin' to his dad / it makes me so sad when i think too much about it, i can't breathe / jesus christ, i'm so blue all the time / and that's just how i feel / i have a friend i call when I've bored myself to tears / and we talk until we think we might just kill ourselves / but then we laugh until it disappears

ㅤㅤMARS by sleeping at last ----- we laid our names to rest / along the dotted line / we left our date of birth and our history behind / we were full of life we could barely hold it in / we were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering / we made our families proud but scared at the same time / we promised we'd be safe / another lie from the front lines / our nights have grown so long / now we beg for sound advice / let the brokenness be felt 'til you reach the other side / there is goodness in the heart of every broken man who comes right up to the edge of losing everything he has / now we're young enough to try to build a better life

ㅤㅤPLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME GET WHAT I WANT by the smiths ---good times for a change / see, the luck i've had can make a good man turn bad / so please, please, please / let me, let me, let me / let me get what i want / this time / haven't had a dream in a long time / see, the life i've had / can make a good man bad / so for once in my life / let me get what i want / lord knows, it would be the first time

ㅤㅤBE NICE TO ME by the front bottoms ----- i got boulders on my shoulders / collar bones begin to crack / there is very little left of me and it's never coming back / there are certain things you ask of me / and there are certain things I'll lack / what's it matter anymore ? / if you believe the lies i tell / there's no meaning to the words / but we still sing these songs well / we are running out of time / we are running, we are running / but you're a killer and i'm your best friend / think it's unfair, your situation / i try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense / the hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense

ㅤㅤFOREST FIRE by brighton ----- when you were young you used to dream about fires / and scream into the night / to find me standing barefoot at your side / i used to whisper it will be alright / and how was i to know i'm not strong / i should have saved you and i hope you know that you're my home / but now i'm lost / now i'm the one left screaming through the night / i'm gonna carry your bones / i'm gonna carry them all / i'm gonna carry you home / i'm gonna bury these bones / i'm gonna write it in stone / that you were my home

BONUS SONG : BLITZKRIEG BOP — THE RAMONES

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

⊹ ❝ i offer to you my bones and my veins. that parts that break and spill ❞ — mary kate teske ⊹ ❝ we leave doors open for people who'll never knock again. stubborn human heart. living, for the maybes and what ifs. hoping, until the day it dies ❞ — mollie adler ⊹ ❝ the worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. you will eat your toast. and you will drink your tea. ❞ — rhian ellis ⊹ ❝ you remember too much, my mother said to me recently. why hold onto all that ? and i said, where do i put down ? ❞ — anne carson ⊹ ❝ the tragic hero is complete. you can call him unhappy (miserable, utterly broken) even before he is dead. for an instant he is something like divine. and then he dies, because there's nothing left to do. ❞ — michael kinnucan ⊹ ❝ and when i turned to face grief, i saw that it was just love in a heavy coat. ❞ — shannon barry

BONUS QUOTES : ❝ we're not just our failures. as much as they hurt, we learn from them. then we go out there and do our best to make up for them — even though we never will. we save people. we save as many as we can to make up for the ones we couldn't. that's all we do. ❞ — the boy himself ):

and of course,

❝ with great power, comes great responsibility. ❞

tagged by: @spidersiren THANK YOU BELOVED tagging: @gardiennes, @spinxeret, @arachnidiots, @proditeur, @kryptonfuture, @timewound, @magitanna, @gobleir, @loetise, @eideticspider, and you !!

[redak-ted]

more incorrect quotes for my tmnt au/itteration (pinned post)

[they're all adults btw]

Leona: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel. Raph: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel. Micheal: A realist sees a freight train. Dee: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

~

Leona, setting down a card: Ace of spades Raph, pulling out an Uno card: +4 Micheal, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you Dee, trembling: What are we playing

~

Leona: You know those things will kill you, right? Raph, pouring another glass of whiskey: That's the point. Micheal, smoking a cigarette: We're trying to speed up the process. Dee: * Nods while eating raw cookie dough*

~

Leona: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything? Raph: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital. Leona: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you. Raph: But I heard a siren. Micheal: That was Dee. Dee: Sorry, I got nervous.

~

Leona: Raph, I'm sad. Raph: Holds out arms for a hug It's going to be okay. Micheal: Dee, I'm sad. Dee, nodding: mood.

~

Leona: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three- Leona and Raph, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks! (<- twin thing) Micheal: Our turn, Dee! One, two, three- vanilla! Dee, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

~

Leona: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am- Micheal: A doll. Dee: A cinnamon roll. Raph: A sweetheart. Leona: Leona, angry: …stop it.

~

Leona: What do you want then? Micheal: Er… something work related. Leona: What department is this? Micheal: Sorry? Leona: Well, if it's work related you'd obviously know what department this is.What department is this? Leona: * looks at Dee and Raph* Some sort of homosexual department?

~

Leona: Yo is Dee sleeping or dead? Raph: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Micheal: Yeah, so did I. Dee: Okay first of all, fuck you-

~

Leona: I'm gonna die alone. Raph: Leona, you're not gonna die alone. Leona: Micheal, was my safety net, okay? They got married and now I have to get a snake. Dee: Uh- huh.Why is that? Leona: If I'm gonna be an old lonely person, I'm gonna need a thing, you know? A hook.Like that guy in the subway who eats his own face. Leona: So I figured I'll be “Crazy Man With A Snake”, you know? Crazy snake man. Leona: Then I'll get more snakes, call them my babies.Kids won't walk past my place, they will run! RUN AWAY FROM CRAZY SNAKE WOMAN!

~

Leona: You guys worried about Raph? Micheal: Totally! Dee: Yeah, they called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?" Leona: And what'd you say? Dee: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno." Micheal: Leona: He's lucky to have you as a sister.

~

one for each of them VVV

~

Leona: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven't decided yet' is typically a good response.

~

Raph: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand. Lightning strikes Raph Raph: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A- game!

~

Micheal: Schrödinger's cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that's both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

~

Dee: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so…

[crayondinos]

okay so i just kinda want to word vomit/rant a little and the only person who would be okay with that is like SUPER busy rn now so i don't want to bother them

i've been volunteering for the parks system the next county over and it has been awesome! i haven't told any of the people about the jw stuff and my mom hasn't joined me so they all just know me as an awkward homeschooled kid! i'm terrified of mom or dad telling them about being jehovah's witnesses and ruining what i have going. this is my only connection to the outside world since none of my job applications have gone anywhere and if i lose it...

speaking of the job stuff, i got told that the parks director might want to hire me!!!! most of the jobs available want you to have a drivers license and i'm waiting to get mine till i turn 18 (only 4 months till then btw) so we don't have to pay for classes cause its like 500 dollars.

i have a part tonight. i'm sick of this. i wasted several hours of my life working on it. the worst thing is, well the two worst things ig are 1: i am really proud of how good it is and 2: i'm looking forward to maybe being told that i did good. the last talk i did the chairman said i did 'incredible'. he said it from the stage and i really liked it. i hate that i liked it.

i hate all i have to do to keep up the appearance of being a good jehovah's witness. i hate doing service three to four times a week and doing my bible reading -actually i kind of enjoy the studying but i hate that i have to do it to avoid suspicion- and i hate having to be "neutral" and i hate having to pretend to agree with everyone's political views despite the fact that we are supposed to stay neutral! LIKE NO MR. BROTHER MAN I DONT GIVE A SINGULAR SHIT ABOUT WHOS IN OFFICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IM NOT FREAKING SUPPOSED TO!!!!!!! i hate that i seem to be the only one acting the way jehovah's witnesses are supposed to when i don't even believe this stuff.

there was a bible study, we'll call them R, who started coming to the congregation my family goes to and mom got really attached to them. then R blocked the person studying with them, my mom and numerous other people. I never got their phone number. R stopped their study. my mom cried alot about it. i had to pretend to be sad but in reality i was so freaking happy. they had just graduated high school and they had short cut purple hair and lots of ear piercings and they did marching band. they gave such gay vibes but i have no idea if they are. we ran into R at the grocery store after the meeting a few weeks ago and they were polite as was mom. mom avoided saying anything about the meeting to make us seem more approachable i guess? thats how she explained it later to me in the car. mom waited until we had walked far enough away and then hugged me, hard, when she pulled away her eyes were wet and i felt like a piece of shit for not caring about what had upset her.

i have a car, my aunt moved across the world to be a need-greater and she gave it to me. i'm paying her back by selling some stuff for her.

i don't like myself. i inherited both my parents anger. i feels like the anger twisted together to create a person whose muscle fibers and bones are made solely from hatred, hatred for others, hatred for myself, hatred for life and for death. hatred for almost everything. i don't want to be shunned by my family. i love my family just as much as i hate them. they are everything to me but i can't live in this awful religion forever. i can't serve a god i despise for my whole life. i can't tell people they will see the people they love alive again when i don't believe it. i can't pretend to agree with the hatred this organization is practically weaved with. im so fucking scared. i'm scared of my family hating me, of my mom, dad, little sisters and little brother not talking to me again. i know my dads not going to live for more then a decade. he has so many health problems. i hate that at his funeral i most likely will not be able to talk to anyone, i know that i will be disfellowshipped once i leave. i'm queer and planning on committing so much "serious sin" and i'm not going to be sorry, not one fucking bit.

i would kms if i wasn't such a coward

[jamiec860]

Debut back to life

I haven't made a post on my own in 6 years. It's not like I have a following, so I want to think of this as like a diary in a way. So much has changed in my life in the past 6 years that I don't know what a normal year is suppose to look like.

I am 23 now. It feels really weird being an adult. It feels weird mostly when you have a bunch of unresolved childhood trauma and your mind is still in a highschool mind set. I've found myself really wondering what's the point in life. What's the point in living? No, like really? What is the point? Do people just live for other people, just to make sure those people won't be sad and lonely? Well I'm sad and lonely and I don't really see anyone trying to keep themselves alive for me.

Wow that sounded really selfish, but that's what I want to be lately. Selfish. I've been a chronic people pleaser for so long, it's like it's engrained into my DNA. I have to be happy because if I'm not, then it makes other people feel uncomfortable. So then I isolate myself, but when you're not around to people please, people just easily forget about you. Gosh I think I'm just babbling at this point. Let me move on.

My brother died at the beginning of 2018. It hurts still. I felt like I was never allowed to properly grieve because I had to stay strong for my sister and my mother. If I cried, it wasn't around them. I was silently suffering. I had a panic attack at his funeral. I didn't want to see him like that. My brother was the strongest person I knew. He really loved and cared about me, but I knew he wasn't a saint. When people talked about him at his funeral, it felt weird hearing people saying things that weren't entirely true but honestly I don't remember much as my mind was so fuzzy. 5 years later, I haven't visited his grave in a long time. I'm not entirely sure why but I just don't really even think about it much even though I've been missing him more lately.

3 days after my brother's death, the guy I was dating at the time, came over to my house while my parents were away. It was Valentines Day and I thought I could have a nice day with my first real boyfriend. I was wrong. I don't want to say I was sexually assaulted, I wanted to have sex with him, but just not the type of sex we had that night. I remember he came to my house and pushed his way in. The stairs to the upper floor are right in front of the front door. I remember him pushing me down onto the stairs, choking me with one hand while the other hand went for my underwear. The front door was wide open, so if anyone was passing, they could've seen what was happening. Afraid that my neighbor would call the police, I pushed him (we'll call him J) away and shut the front door quickly. I ran up the stairs but he grabbed me and pushed me onto the couch in the living room. I knew he liked rough sex but this day just felt wrong. He didn't say a word. His normally green eyes, were so dark that night. I fought back against him but I think he thought it was game. I remember him putting his fingers inside of me and it hurt, it hurt really bad. His hand was on my throat again and if they weren't there, then they were holding wrists. He pulled me to my room and I just wanted the night to be over, so I had sex with him. I don't remember much before he left, but I remember when he did, I went to the bathroom and saw the bruises all over my body. My neck, my chest, my stomach and my thighs. I do remember smiling through some tears, believing my boyfriend loved me and rough sex was normal. That was my first Valentines Day with a boyfriend. 3 days after my brother has died.

This same boyfriend, then cheated on me on my birthday. When I found out, he gaslighted me into believing it was just in my head. That the girl who was calling his phone, was just a friend from school. Nope. He had downloaded Tinder and met her there. He brought her to his dorm room (he had never brought me there) and had sex with her while she was on her period. I remember her taunting me. I had just turned 18 and I didn't know what to think about anything. I broke up with him of course, but he slept in front of my house in his car almost every night. I threatened to call the police but he knew I wouldn't as I didn't want my mom to know. He would say if I blocked him, he was just knock on my door and talk to my mom. He knew how to manipulate me, how to get under my skin. Thankfully, he didn't really pay attention to me after I graduated high school. He had moved onto the next girl.

February of 2019, I was in the mindset of wanting to give a nice guy a try. I was always a cheerer for the underdog, so I wanted to know what it was like to have a guy like me more than I liked him. I had worked at a hotel and my supervisor and I were really close. I always had mommy issues so I would attach myself to older women to feel some sort of connection. That supervisor had a son and I knew he liked me and I had somewhat liked him. I didn't find him to be the most handsomest but he was really sweet. I remember her giving me his number and I took weeks to actually text him. When I did though, it was literally the start to a whole new life for me. He picked me up from a friend's and we went to dinner at this restaurant that closed down a few months later. I remember I was wearing something so lazy. I was wearing my You Matter 2019 Valentines Day hoodie and some black leggings. He always brought up how adorable I looked. After dinner we walked and talked the night away. He was so sweet and respectful. He didn't even kiss me that night. February 19th, is the day he asked me to be his girlfriend, it was also the night we had our first kiss. I believe it was about 4 days after our first date which now seemed a bit rushed but I liked him so I didn't care. That night he had told me he was a virgin. I kind of figured but it still shocked me as he was 6 years older than me. I was scared because I thought I was going to break his heart and I also thought he was "small". But like I said before, I really liked this guy and I didn't want that to stop what we had going on. We did not have sex that night. The first time Z and I had sex, we had gone on a date and he had showed me this beautiful little town in Massachusetts. I had never been treated so well by a guy before so I felt like I was on cloud nine. Anyways, we went back to my house when no one was home and I took his virginity. It was a great experience for the both of us and I was so honored that I was the one he wanted to share that experience with.We dated for a year and 6 months. It was probably, the best year of my life. I was so happy. I had never felt so beautiful. He made me feel like I could rule the world. He put a ring on my finger and I thought I had found my forever person.

Then Covid happened.

Our relationship did sadly take a turn for the worst. His mom (my supervisor) was immune compromised so we didn't see each other often. It hurt. When we did see each other, it just felt like he was there for sex and nothing else and it took a toll on me. I still loved him and we talked every single day but my depression was getting worse and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I still regret it to this day breaking up with him. It wasn't his fault a fucking pandemic was taking over the world. I mean there were other factors as to why I decided to end the relationship but I knew I only wanted to take a break. I took too long. I took him for granted. He loved me. I know he did and he did his best to love me but I pushed him away.

2021 came around. I had an abortion in June of that year. Z was the father. It ruined whatever hope I had for that relationship. His mother, the person I attached myself to lest then 2 years ago, pressured me into it. All I wanted was to marry her son, have his children and live a happy life with him. She helped me plan a wedding that never happened. I felt as if I had lost my family. I haven't talked to Z in almost 2 years now.

My relationship with my mother was never great. I was a product of an affair. My father was married to another woman at the time and I do in the back of my head believed my mother had me to keep him around. My mother and I were never really close. When I was a kid, I remember sleeping in her bed until my sister came to live with us when I turned 9. My mother really shifted then. She met a man and got married to him. I loved my stepdad but I do feel like because of him, I felt disconnected from my mother. I felt that disconnection well into my teen years up until I was at a point that I didn't want a relationship with her. I stole money from her purse from time to time. I probably did it for attention but I also feel like I did it because I was a teenager and I wanted to hang out with my friends and have money to do things. I will never forget when I was 13, one of her gold watches went missing and she accused me first. I used to wear watches because I wanted to be like my mom, we finally shared a common interest. After that incident, I never wore a watch again. She accused me, called me names, came to my school and had the teachers interrogate my friends. Of course, no one knew anything about the watch as I only wore a cheap pink one to school. I remember the teachers calling my a thief, my school wasn't the best but I'll talk about them another time. My mother had kicked me out of the house and sent me to stay with my sister for 3 days. I didn't know what to do and I hate the feeling of being hopeless. When my mother finally picked me up, I will never forget what she said to me. She had called me a liar and that if my stepdad were ever to have molested me, she wouldn't even believe me and that I better not ruin her marriage. I lost respect for my own mother that day. I was 13. A few days later, she found her watch under her bed. She never said sorry.

I think I'm done for now. It's about to be 4am and there's so much more to unpack that I want to get off of my chest. I know no one is really going to read this, but it feels nice to actually be able to put my trauma into words instead of it just brewing in my head.

Thank you for your time.

[roman-cates]

"… I had friends, growing up. They were nice… usually. Have an older brother, too… We haven't talked in a few years though…Well… I guess now it's been maybe more than a few…"

Roman's family life really was the opposite of Bryce's. He can't imagine having a sibling and going more than a week without talking to them, much less years. He checks that his own mother is still alive more than once a year, and he would never give her the time of day.

"You told me you couldn't find any sort of missing persons report on me… You said it might have been because of something Avery did. I… I guess in the back of my mind, I'm just scared that maybe no one looked for me… is looking for me."

Bryce grip on his fork tightens. That does make way more sense than his own hypothesis, but it's infuriating. Bryce only really has one friend, but if he disappears, he knows there are people out there that wouldn't rest until his killer was found. Allies, not friends, but still.

It's better that no one is looking for Roman. Easier for him to disappear into a new identity. It's better that he doesn't have close ties he'll have to give up ever recovering.

"Shit, Roman…" It comes out with more pity than he wants it to. The sorrow is evident, too, though.

Roman give him a sort of smile. More sad and anxious than any other emotion, including happy, but the corners of his mouth do come up, so it probably counts. Bryce wants to reach out and grab his hand, at least, but he's eating with it. And it seems wrong, too.

He's still not sure why Roman decided to share any of this. Does he want confirmation that someone filed a report two years ago? Bryce could actually figure that out. It would be annoying, but if it was filed there's a paper copy somewhere he could get his hands on if he needs to. He considers offering, but what if Roman is right, and it doesn't exist? It the uncertainty better than knowing no one cares?

He decides not to bring it up.

"I'm sorry," he finally settles on. "I don't know what to say, but I'm sorry. If my si--I can't imagine what that must feel like."

Previous

"Shit, Roman…" Bryce sounds like he's pitying Roman. That's... not exactly what Roman wanted. What even did he want?

He's not really certain why he felt this was important to share... Part of him just wants Bryce to know him, though. Know him as something other than the weak, pathetic person he is right now... has been for so long now...

The pity in Bryce's tone says this was counterproductive to that purpose. Roman tries to smile, maybe to alleviate the pity, but it feels wrong. He knows it looks sad. And hurt. Probably anxious...

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, but I'm sorry. If my si--I can't imagine what that must feel like."

If my si--

Sister?

I've been dreaming about her. The funeral home. Our mother.

Before Roman really has time to think about what he's saying, he asks. "... Did you have a sister..?"

Even once he's said it, he doesn't really regret it... He probably gave away more than he meant to by asking that. By asking it in the past tense, too... He gives a half hearted apology. "Sorry... that's... I didn't mean to be invasive..."

[cantfightmoonlight]

@lunadefresa

"I did that is true," Bri trailed off knowing that she had said that she had wanted her funeral birthday to be a lot of fun and Paloma was right. A funeral of only three to four would be a fairly depressing turn out. And yet, she found her bottom lip jutting out slightly into a small pout at the thought that Paloma had to rope people into faking being sad. "It's great, Lo. Really, it's just, I don't know. It kind of seems like pity guests, if that makes any sense? Like people didn't care enough about me when I was living so we have to pay people to pretend now? Which I know isn't the case and its just that we can't exactly invite humans here or then we're making them have to choose to stay in town forever to keep their memories or forget the entire existence of magic and the fact I'm alive all over again, but," Her bottom lip began to quiver as she thought back to her parents and how they still were still under the assumption that she was dead. Sure, she could risk nearly dying from hunters to go home and tell them, but if she did, they'd never let her out of their sight again which would only put her entire family at risk or she'd have to expose the supernatural existence and then would die at the hands of the Council for breaking the accords the second she brought her family back to Lunar Cove with her. Even if she managed to defy all of the odds and not end up dead, how could she tell her parents that she would never age while they would? It seemed there was no winning. So, the bribed or persuaded attendees who didn't give a damn about her were probably the best choice as much as even if the thought made her, in part, want to cry. At least way, maybe she could make meet some new people in this god forsaken town? Maybe make a friend? Maybe not a very good one if they could be so easily persuaded to attend another's funeral, but at least it was something, right?

"But, hey, it's not you. The party is perfect, promise. And It will be a lot fun," Bells gave a little nod at the thought, offering up a small smile as she gave Paloma's hand a reassuring squeeze, almost in an attempt to convince herself as much as to convince the other. "I just think I need to get out of my own head? But, really? He did? Well, now I can't wait to hear it. I'm sure you're going to have me tearing up too," She admitted. Her smile softening as she moved to wrap her arms around Lo, resting her head on the other girl's shoulder as she gave her another small squeeze. "You really are one of my favorite people, Lo. And oh, I didn't, but I can? I mean say something that is? I just didn't think to. Most of the time the deceased doesn't, but then again most aren't able to speak at their own funeral with the whole being dead thing... so... do you think I should say something? Or sing something? What do you think would be best?"

[unadulterated-syd]

Giving Up On Your World

Regulus x Dead!Y/n

Warnings: Angst, slight mentions of su!cide nothing explicit but metaphorical mentions.

I wrote this like a year ago, Its probably very out of character but I was sad when I wrote this! I love Regulus so very much 😭. And this is short!

Perhaps the sky above couldnt really save him from the fact. Y/n, his best friend, his lover, the funniest person he'd ever known, was gone. Forever. And to his own ideas, it was his fault.

His head ached, the room spinning, his fists clenched against his slacks. Y/n used to always tease him about his constant need to dress 'fancy'. In a way he wish he'd taken Y/n's advice and dressed like an 80s virgin. That's what Y/n would've called it, anyway.

"Are you sure?" He was sure this was at least the 3rd time he'd asked his older brother this. It broke his brother all the same, "Yes. You need rest, Regulus. Please." But it wasn't enough for him, he didn't want to rest without Y/n, he didn't want to laugh without Y/n, he didn't want to walk the same Earth Y/n did without Y/n.

Lily, James, Sirius, anyone remotely close to Y/n or himself attended the funeral. That's how Y/n was. Y/n was someone no one could forget, no matter what conversation you'd had with Y/n you remembered. He also knew Y/n's irrational fear of death, the poor thing had been terrified, cried everytime a new year passed, and here he was alive without Y/n.

The thing he hated the most was what had happened, Y/n held his hand and cooed him through death, even though he had never been close to dying in that moment. Y/n always put him on the front burner, it was one thing that made him feel so guilty yet so loved.

As the night faded, and the sun came up it was just him, his brother, and a gravestone. "Regulus, we should go..Y/n needs rest." Sirius knew the man in front of him would never take that as a good reason, obviously the dead aren't sleeping, but he still had to try. He was his big brother after all.

Regulus put a finger up, a finger that said a million words without a noise. Sirius left him, giving him the second alone he'd requested, but he stayed near by out of pure need to keep Regulus safe.

"I suppose this is a second good bye." He cleared his throat, keeping his voice from breaking, "Even now you choke me up, Y/n. I'm sorry. I promised you'd live forever, I promised myself I'd go first to show you it wasn't all that bad. And yet here I am, and there you are." He paused once more, pulling out a singular Pansy from his pocket, "I know you never liked flowers, you said they weren't worth the money, but I think this is a special occasion."

Regulus stood up, looking down on his partner's grave, and sighed. "I love you. I'm sorry I never got the chance to say it back in person." He took one last shakey breath, and set the flower down, "If there ever was a heaven I know you'd be there. I'll see you someday, soon hopefully, my love."

And he set off towards Sirius. They went home in silence, Hogwarts was over for them, it was a journey they'd never thought they'd be in together. Everything they'd planned, Regulus and Y/n, ending with Sirius and Regulus driving no where in particular.

The worse part for Regulus was watching James and Lily from there. They were so in love. Y/n's brother, happy and healthy with someone he loved, and Y/n dead with him left alone. He'd never hate the two, but he'd always envy them.

He began his work for the ministry until his own death came. Perhaps he had never been happier to go, he'd always wanted to go, since Y/n had, but he had never wanted to do it himself, he didn't want Y/n to feel worse about dying than Y/n already would have.

Now it was Sirius crying at his grave. Life has one cruel sense of humor and Sirius had now been dealt this hand twice. Y/n had been his best friend as well, James and Lilly long gone, and now, his baby brother.

"I've never been happier to have the world leave you behind, my love. " Regulus looked at the one who he'd been searching for, for years, the voice of reason to the chaos of himself, Y/n.

Maybe death wasn't all that scary.

[lemon-boy-stan]

"GOD'S MENU"

summary: hell’s kitchen has the best reviews. it’s said that their meals satisfy all five of your senses and that the michelin chef has five stars. genre: smut, modern day demon/hell au. warnings: shit ending, bad lyric puns, felix is really out of character, mentions of death, hell, possesive felix, dom felix, praise kink, breeding, creampie, cumplay (kind of). pairing: demon!lee felix x reader. a/n: SKZ requests are open. 

The restaurant was dark and dingy but that was probably the vibe it was trying to give off. It was a time close to midnight, although you didn’t know the exact hour so it could even be morning.

For years, you'd being trying to find the perfect dish. You'd tasted some of the worst and some of the best foods, and none of them had really satisfied you. Hell was a place strictly for the dead but sometimes they allowed visitors, only very important people. 

You supposed this meant that you were successful. 

When you'd read the brochure at a funeral, you knew you had to go. Who wouldn't want a meal that satisfied not one, but all five, of your senses? Plus, the chef had five stars. You didn't know what the other two michilen stars were for but you figured they were probably some hell-related thing.

Your agent had made a deal to give the restaurant a good review if they let you in and out alive, although now you weren't so sure that you wanted to go back.

The waiter was tall with kind eyes. You never knew that there was ever such a thing as a kind demon, but here you were, looking right at one. Perhaps he learnt his lesson. Or perhaps he was secretly plotting your death. Either way, his eyes were beautiful, the dark shades of brown mixing together to create a dazzling pool of chocolate.

“Good day,” his voice was deep and he spoke with a thick volume of husk from his throat. His pale skin and red lips made him look charming. Charming, but sad. He wore all leather, with a white shirt underneath that looked new. His silver hair glistened in the light and his sharp eyebrows furrowed together. “How did you get here?”

“My agent...” you started, worrying he might be hostile. “I have a cooking show...” you added. The silver-haired man smiled. “Ah, yes,” he murmured,

“I remember.”

You cleared your throat, “may I speak with the chef? I'd like to do an interview.” The silver-haired man chuckled and you frowned. “There is a chef, right?” He chuckled again.

“Of course there is, you silly girl. You're talking to him.” The tray that the man was holding disappeared and a black chef's hat appeared on his head instead. He cocked it, and it vanished. A plate of food materialized on the table. “This is our best-seller,” he explained, taking a seat across you.

"If it appeases you, dessert will be served shortly. For now, though, why don't we have a tour of the restaurant? I'm sure the mortals would enjoy seeing what a five-star hotel is like in hell,"

You didn't normally give your audience a tour of the restaurant, but you couldn't resist. The place was so chilling and mysterious you had to look around.

Felix led you through the dim-lit hallway, his hand on your back. There were doors on your left and doors on your right that led to nowhere. Guarding the fifth door, a tall man with slick black hair and perfect features stood with a snarling face and a large flapping pair of wings. The door had a silver plaque on the top of it, which read 모든 천사는 쓰러진다. All angels fall.

Felix wove the demon off, "no need to be so serious, Hyunjin. It's fine. Go take a break, you've served well." the demon snarled before flapping his large wings and taking flight, vanishing into the air.

"Where did he go?" you didn't mean to think aloud. Felix smiled knowingly, but otherwise didn't reply. He wove his hand, and the black door opened with a creak. There was another hallway, this time endless, and pitch black. You must've made a concerned face because Felix laughed and said, "don't worry. The hallway lights up as you walk. There's magic for the dead, too, you know."

Felix was right. Each step you took, the hallway lit up with a gloomy yellow light, revealing a section of the alley as you went. Every section was different. The first was full of mirrors with blinking eyes in the glass. The second was full of jars, stocked with things you'd never seen before. Each section was as peculiar as the next.

The last time the hallway lit up, there were name tags plastered on the walls. Some were new, and some were old, but there was one that caught your eye the most.

"Felix," you murmured quietly, "why is my name on here?" he paused for a moment, his dark eyes glowing red. He smiled, "we like to keep track of our... visitors." that made sense. "Oh, okay." he smiled again, "shall we keep going?" you nodded.

At the end of the hallway, the same door that the demon Hyunjin had been guarding appeared, and you gestured for the drone besides you to focus on it, but the little camera drone sputtered and came to a halt. You turned to it and frowned, confused. “That’s weird...” you muttered to yourself, “the camera drone never breaks.” 

The chef laughed. “I know what you’ve been thinking, little princess,” Felix curled his lip, “I know all the thoughts you’ve been thinking about me. You can pretend all you want to be an innocent little thing, but nothing can hide your lust.” his dark eyes sparkled, and a crooked smile crept upon his face.

A lump formed in your throat, a lump so big you’d forgotten how to speak. This only made the demon smile even more, “you try so hard, don’t you?” Felix’s whispers echoed menacingly through the hallway. “To be a good Christian girl, waiting until marriage. But tell me, dear, where has waiting ever got you? It’s okay, save your breath, I’ve got the answer: absolutely nowhere. Nowhere, and begging for more. Because that’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it, your whole life? You’ve been looking for the best dish, but nothing’s ever satisfied you. All the meals you’ve tried tasted like cardboard. Well, little princess, let me serve you one of my favourites. Hell’s kitchen does have five stars, after all...”

Felix pushed you through the door, but it was the fall that shocked you the most, for you did not land on wood, but on a soft mattress and silk blankets. The demon smiled, “dirty girl. You’re so desperate for sex that you’re not even bothering to hide your thoughts! You poor thing.” Felix laughed cruelly as he towered over you. The demon snapped its fingers and you shivered at the touch of the cold air against your skin. 

“Tell me, little princess,” Felix hovered above you, “what shall you order? I suggest for starters, you rest your buds, and let me - oh? What’s this? You can’t wait, child? You want my sinful cock that bad? Now, now, my sweet, don’t talk back... you know better than to spite the devil, don’t you?” he drawled every word, still smirking. “Very well...” he bucked his hips to reveal one of the biggest dicks you’d ever seen, spilling out hot shots of cum on your body before floating back down. 

The demon gave you no warning. He pushed inside you with a grunt, “your pussy is so tight.” you didn’t know if that was a compliment or a complaint. Felix smiled, “a compliment, my sweet.” you blushed at his deep voice and he chuckled again. “You’re so beautiful for a mortal...” he must’ve known you liked to be praised. “I do know, little princess. And I know how bad you want me to cum inside you. I know how much you want me to breed you...” he ran a finger up your clit, opening your legs some more, stretching you out, making you whine wordlessly at the demon’s touch.

Felix let out deep groans as he rutted in and out of you, spilling his juices like he was made of cum. The demon’s grip on your shoulders was rough, and it kept its eyes on you the entire time. You, however, weren’t so consistent; you threw your head back every time Felix hit your G-spot, cumming directly on it each time. Your stomach felt so full of cum that it was heavy. 

There was cum dripping from your thighs and your breasts, where he’d spread it before. Felix pulled out with ease, and you were amazed at his appearance - he didn’t even look sweaty. You were exhausted. Maybe it was a demon thing. “It is a demon thing, my sweet.” Felix chuckled, clicking his fingers and smiling as lingerie and a black dress fashioned themselves onto your now cleaned body. The demon smiled, helping you up.

“So,” the camera drone was back on and the room morphed into a kitchen, “how did you enjoy your meal?” you smiled, flustered, “it certainly deserves the five Michelin stars on the menu. I don’t think I’ll ever forget  it,” or you, you thought to yourself, making the demon smile once more. “Well,” Felix said, “come see us when you can. Hell is always open to pretty girls like you.” he took your hand and kissed it, his icy breath making your skin tingle.

SKZ MASTERLIST // BTS MASTERLIST // TXT MASTERLIST

[hotch-stufff]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

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

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs. 

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed. 

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing. 

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad. 

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed. 

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything. 

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready. 

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days. 

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need." 

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken. 

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better. 

Each passing case a distraction. 

Each one fixing you just a bit more. 

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better. 

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less. 

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go. 

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive." 

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive? 

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood. 

Aaron Hotchner. 

You couldn't breathe. 

You couldn't move or speak. 

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months. 

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt. 

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses. 

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone. 

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[kirua9]

Aomine Makoto. The tragedy of a foolish girl.

Tw: long post, trauma, $uicide, God, postpartum

Characters: Komori Yui, Aomine Makoto

[ Why everyone is so grumpy now? Yes, you might be sad about something bothering you, but don't make me feel I should compassion you! I would anyways, I'm sick of that. Leave me alone. Leave me and don't wait for me to solve all your problems!]

(I see, you are in a bad mood today... I'm sorry...

Let's talk about dreams instead, should we? So, mine is to be a nun, yours?...)

[ My dream? As an average person, I just want be happy. I wanna enjoy every second I breathe, otherwise, why do I even exist?

No, I've no eager to safe the world, I want to be happy.]

( Yeah, I can realte)

[I want to find someone very kind, somebody to love me. I don't care, who it'd be, man or woman, I want to feel right. ]

(...)

( Makoto-san, do you believe in God?)

[ I believe in gravity, is not that obvious? So you ask me, if God exist? Well, uncle always says I'm being to ignorant and skeptical to deny the fact of God's being, because he is a priest after all. Uncle Shinmei has always wanted to be a... a part of the church. I think he new that before he even was born, huh. You see, we're not the same, don't even try to convince me, if you hope to do so!]

(No! I'd never do that! )

[ Fine. ]

( Why won't you tell me more about your family?)

[ You really interested in me? Suspicious. Though, I don't mind your company, so I'll tell]

[ I was raised by my uncle, thats why I have a bad temper, actually. He used to tell me about God and all the religious stuff, but I've never been interested in things I couldn't touch or see. That's why... Uncle had given up on me then. He had his own child, Kaworu-kun. He loved him as his own son, though they were not blood related.

And one day Kaworu died and the sky fell. Uncle couldn't believe his son died because of the apoplexy. There were no features of that disease. So they were only uncle and I...]

( And your mom ?)

[ Oh, she... she left me. When I was six, mother and uncle argued and then she drived away, as uncle said. Then I haven't seen her more.]

( I'm sorry to hear that...)

[Don't be sorry, you didn't kill anyone or something. My mother, I thought she might have been returned one day. But she didn't. Uncle said, I look exactly like her, even my voice, guess I took it after her.]

( And your dad?.. )

[ I have no clue who is he. An american man, that is all I know! However, I don't want to know more. If he is still alive, he might have a family now, I am not his business. ]

( Oh...)

[ Stop sighing! You make me feel sad! C'mon, cheer up, you are not at my funeral.]

[ After Kaworu's death, Uncle Shinmei became more strict. I was a problem for him. He said, I've always been a loose end. Just like his sister. In fact, he hated her all his life and when she finally left, he couldn't sigh in relief — I was a burden. ]

( And you're mom, she hated him too?.. )

[ I don't really now, I guess they're parents made them compete. My mother was a median, a famous actress, if Yuka Aomine says you something. And uncle prefered a peacefull life, he didn't seek to attention as mother.

But when get pregnant, she was all alone, then reach uncle Shinmei, and... in fact from that point his life was cracked. He couldn't say "no" to his foolish sister, him, a foolish man. They are all so stupid! They made me cry!!!]

( *she is very angry.. now she's too emotional to talk calmly, other will hear us...)

[ Uncle, with his morals, he couldn't tell her to do an abortion, but he'd better did that.]

( I don't understand... Why are you talking those horrible things?.. You wouldn't exist then... Life is what we should value, we are humans. The time, the health... Lives are important for us.)

[ Exactly, if you happy, if you have an aim in life. Komori-san, I have no future. I wish I'd never born at all.

My mother abandoned me on purpose, I found a footage with her talking about how she wanted to do an abortion, but brother forbid her to do so. She said:" I couldn't imagine myself as a mother. Never. But now, Makoto was born, I thought that I would understand it in the future. But I couldn't. I couldn't tortured myself to love this child."

She just couldn't. She couldn't. And then she said, that she'd commit the suicide. That's why she left then.

And uncle, he'd never loved me as a niece or as a daughter, he thought I was a part of Yuka. He saw her in me. But, he somehow cared for me when I was a child. Though he couldn't fake parental love forever. I understand it, I don't hate him. He was chasing his own happiness, without me or Yuka in his life. ]

( And where is he now?..)

[ Heaven, or hell, as he prefers. He died last year in a car accident. His death was truly upsetting for me. He was the only one, who tried to help me. He wanted me to leave safe and finally leave him alone in his church. But now I'm here with you, at those vampires mansion. As I said, I have no future, Komori-san.]

( You shouldn't give up!)

[ You don't have to teach me, I know, you have a different mindset, don't try to influence me. In my opinion, if God's blessing existed – I wouldn't. ]

( Hadn't you thought it's the part of you way? Of your destiny? )

[ You wanna say, I have no luck. You are right!]

( No, don't get angry, please!)

[ You are foolish girl, Komori-san. You do not see rhe reality, although it's around you. I'm the evidence of that our position is in the depth of food chain, do not deny it. Don't make me hate you, Komori-san, you are a kind soul.]

( What?.. What do you mean?..)

[ Somehow I hate everyone I met. Even myself. No, especially myself. I don't wanna die, but I'm not excited to see what is going on with me. Vampires, demons, you know. Eh.

Disgusting.]

( *Makoto looks very sad, yet furious, she is in pain... and she admits it, but she doesn't want me to come closer. What should I do woth her?..)

[ If I open up, people will hit my heart, but I'm open to love! I'm open to recieve it, I'm open to give it! I'm full !!! People only ignore me and use as they want, that's not what I'm looking for. ]

kirua9: so... more info about Makoto, and some music references, I can't without it.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[ein-liebloser-wanderer]

Hi! Could you write something about dreaming current? I really want to see content about them. Thanks for the mosb, it was exactly what I wanted. I also want to thank you for writing about abnormalities. They were what made me interested in the game, now the attention has shifted to the city, which is a little sad. Sorry if the wording looks strange, I use a translator.

Oh, I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm flattered you went through the hassle of using a translator to say this.

For starters, let me say that I am happy you liked it, Kursati. Abnormalities are all I write about in this blog, and if you ever get a craving for content, the inbox shall always be open for you.

Oh, and I wasn't certain what you wanted exactly, so I only wrote general headcanons for this Abnormality. I hope it is up to your satisfaction.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

⸸ T-02-71 (The Dreaming Current) -- Base Headcanons ⸸

(Normally, this is where I make a lighthearted comment, but with this Abnormality, I just can't...)

Warning: drug addiction, enabling

Many of the Abnormalities desire things that harm others, directly or indirectly. Those like the Singing Machine and the Mountain of Smiling Bodies are driven to kill solely out of survival instinct. There are those who commit violence for entirely selfish reasons such as the Red Riding Hooded Mercenary and Der Freischutz. Then, there are those like the Funeral of the Dead Butterflies and WhiteNight that wishes to save everyone...with death.

That isn't the case for the Dreaming Current.

⸸ T-02-71 really only wanted one thing: to see the ocean that his 'mothers' and 'fathers' read and showed him through picture books.

⸸ This Abnormality is so childlike and naïve that it makes it so easy for Agents to work on him--so long as they know the precautions and stats needed, of course. Otherwise, it is fairly easy to prevent him from triggering the entire facility collapse.

⸸ Entertain the child with pictures of the outside world. Beaches, lakes, oceans, and the like are his favourites. Especially the sharks. Don't forget the sharks.

⸸ And if all else fail, you can always tell him that if he misbehaves, he won't get any grape-flavoured candy.

Suppression Work probably goes something like this, and it is why it is second best to Instinct. The candy is really just drugs, and I imagine T-02-71 is too dependent on it to disobey the facility.

⸸ There is a reason why Instinct work has the highest success rate. He is a child with a curious mind, and eyes that wish to see the world and all of its miracles. All he really wants is to see beyond this concrete prison, and if you must...the candy is always an option.

⸸ If T-02-71 shows signs of fatigue, agitation, and anxiety, give him the candy.

⸸ If T-02-71's illness becomes too unbearable and painful, give him the candy.

⸸ If T-02-71 experiences intense drops in mood, expresses hopelessness, frustrations, or apathy, give him the candy.

⸸ Though one should never compare a Breach to a child's tantrum, this is essentially what the Dreaming Current does when he doesn't get what he wants. For the sake of the entire facility, it is better if we simply give in to his wishes.

⸸ If this child knew or understood how low the world has fallen despite all its 26 Wings, its technological advances, and all the horrific wars, do you think he would still hold onto that wish so strongly?

⸸ Or would that make for an even worse Abnormality? One that could never be suppressed or bargained with, now that the only thing it ever wanted has been thoroughly ruined by reality?

⸸ Would you be willing to end his childhood?

~ ~ ~ End ~ ~ ~

There are Abnormalities with tragic backstories and reasons for existing like the Funeral of the Dead Butterflies, La Luna, the Old Lady, and...well, most of them, really.

But then, there is this child who had been abandoned by his own parents that is now cared for and kept alive by L-Corp only so they could experiment and exploit him for energy. Perhaps Ayin and others did it partially out of good will, but knowing that man's priorities, it was likely only a bonus.

Not only that, but the Dreaming Current has these puncture marks all over its body...and it's EGO name...

This Abnormality really wrenches my heart.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"

"Right." We all agreed.

"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.