#I haven’t edited since my blog disappeared

[savemebeel]

Would y’all be proud of me if I said I finally made an edit? 👉👈

[loveau]

Case Closed: Chapter One | Sehun

Genre: slow-burn romance, angst, mystery/crime

Summary: As the only person willing to take on this wild goose chase of a 10-month ongoing missing persons case, you have your head in your hands trying to figure out why 20 girls and counting have suddenly disappeared. You can't give up now that another girl has just joined that number. Good thing that your persistent crime reporter friend Oh Sehun won't let you quit either.

Word Count: 6.4k

T/W: minor violence, kidnapping, crime, uhhh not edited i'm sorry

A/N: I'M SOOOOO SORRY!!!!!! I've been on hiatus for 3 years LOLOLOLOL then i found this in my vault since may 4th, 2020 and i felt so bad that i wrote literally 3.5k words to finish this first chapter so i can just get it out. i have the whole thing fleshed out.......... i'm so sorry 🙈 also i don't really use this blog anymore but i figured i will just to get out everything again HAHAHA i do not expect this to get any traction at all but if you enjoy it then 🥺❤️

It started like any other day, which was a real cliché to put it. You walk into the station with your usual heavy eyelids and even heavier shoulders. Sleep was something you’d given up when you first started working as a detective, but the word was definitely out of your dictionary when you picked up the case. Most of your colleagues wouldn’t pick up the case. Mainly because they knew you’d be the first one to take it. However, after ten months you still haven’t found any new leads. Six months of chasing after ghosts and you always returned emptyhanded.

This morning, you had something into your hands. Flung into them, rather. A coffee and a file, courtesy of Jongin. Normally there’d be a smile gracing his face and a joke soon to follow to lighten up your mood. Instead there was a frown as he motioned down at the file in your hands.

“That’s number 21.”

You’re grim and you know it’s very apparent. How could you not be with the numbers stacked this high? You mumble a thanks and allow Jongin to linger a bit. He wants to say something, and you know it, but you also know he’s conflicted about whether or not he should continue bothering you.

“Jongin, I’m not dropping the case.”

He purses his lips and takes a tactical sip of his own coffee. After a moment to find the right words he sighs. “I know. I wouldn’t dream of trying to rip you away from that.”

A dry chuckle leaves you and you shake your head almost dotingly at your junior. “Of course.” You point a pen towards the office everyone knew too well after getting chewed out at least thrice. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t. She’s been on my ass for a while.” You’ve joked with your peers about the Boa Constrictor keeping you in her hold until you concede, but you’d never been on the receiving end of it until now. Except you definitely weren’t about to let go of this case.

There’s a moment of silence while he tries to come up with something else to say and you busy yourself with the new file. You curse when you look at the girl’s photo and information. “She’s only 15.” Jongin hums and scans over the information with you. He takes her photo out from beneath the paperclip and holds it up to the board where there were faces of 20 other girls on them.

“She doesn’t look like any of the others.”

“Not at all. She’s got some similar features to some, but… there isn’t a type.”

“If they even are getting kidnapped.” You scoff at that before taking the photo and thumbtacking it to the board. “Not that I’m saying you’re on a wild goose chase or anything, but…” He takes another sip of his coffee. You know the mug is empty. “21 girls who don’t have any connection to each other besides living in the same city… It’s really difficult to determine if they’re all being kidnapped or just-”

“Runaways, I know.”

“Look, they’re all around the ages too. Teen angst, wanting to start fresh in another city, eloping with a secret lover.” He sighs wistfully and moves to take another sip until he remembers his empty cup. “21 girls. No relation. Some of them did sports, but it’s a range. Some of them are in the same school district, but they have different schedules. Two of them lived in the same neighborhood, but that’s in a whole block of apartments.”

Your eyes linger at the girl’s face a couple seconds longer. You’ve heard it too many times by all the others to know that Jongin is implying they could be all coincidences. People runaway all the time, it’s true. You’ve definitely closed those sorts of cases and convinced a couple of them to work it out and return home. You just wish you had some concrete proof that this was different.

Jongin turns away, about to leave and continue his own work after getting more coffee. “I’ll get out of your hair now, but I’m just worried about you. You’re losing a lot of sleep for someone who looks like they’re chasing their own tail. Take care of yourself.” He’s off before you can bark a word at him, and you roll your eyes to yourself.

You take a sip of the coffee he’d given to you moments prior, but it had gotten cold since then. It was still a bit of a kickstart to your day anyhow. You had the cases of 21 missing girls all over the city resting on your shoulders. It was a miracle you got any sleep at all. You tried your hand at anything. Possible gang relations or involvements or some group or organization, and yet you found no link. Like you said earlier, there didn’t seem to be a type that was targeted as the girls were mainly different appearance wise. You’d even thought to consider some underground sex ring, but the information you’ve collected about some of them didn’t fit the bill.

There were a couple girls who were taken in their own homes. They had been the ones living alone, except one who was taken while her three roommates were all home. They had chalked it up to her not feeling well and when they decided to check up on her, she was gone. It just didn’t sit right with you that they had done everything according to their routine and yet they supposedly just ran away. Most didn’t seem to have any motive at all to do so according to their friends and family. Even though you knew everybody’s got secrets and skeletons to hide you knew that was the truth. It was a gut feeling, but it wasn’t enough.

A buzzing noise came from your pocket and you whip your phone out to see what notification it was this time. A random message from one of your friends on social media popped up. You wanted to swipe it away, but you decided against it and opened it up. It was a friend from college who had found some old photo of the two of you at some party, dressed up with a lot of skin showing but even more teeth on display. Back then the lack of sleep you had was because of the constant studying and partying, or rather taking some free booze and dipping when you got bored. It was still fun to socialize and watch everyone stumble dumbly, though. You responded back quickly by telling her to forward it to you. Before you pocketed your phone, you retyped your passcode to unlock the phone again and went into your contacts. Thinking about college reminded you of somebody.

The moment you stepped out you heard a familiar “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kim. Just checking in like I always do.” You could almost hear the smile in the woman’s face. Tension immediately left your shoulders the moment you heard her coo your name softly. It was like it was never there at all.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was just beginning to think you’d never call.” She laughs easily at her tease. She knew you would call. You always did. “I was just thinking about you actually. I heard there was another one…”

A sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose before you answer. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of months hasn’t it?” She hums in response and you can hear her shuffling papers around, most likely sorting through the mail you know she never opens and gets to once a month at least. She pauses and you can hear her set the large pile down.

“Of course. Five months without my baby? She’s supposed to be starting school in a couple months. She was so excited when she got accepted. They have the best music program in the state, you know.” You knew all too well that her daughter was to be going to school at the best music school in the state. You listened to some of her recordings before after her mother had shown you. You like to think that it was just because of a mother’s pride, but you think it was to hear her daughter’s voice again as she talks through the piece and giggles at a small slip up in one of them.

It almost pained you that you couldn’t find her with what you had now. You were still as clueless as you were when she had gone missing five months ago.

“I’ll find her soon. I know I will. The next time you won’t get to see her is when you have to move her into the dorms. I promise you.” It was an unsure promise, to convince the both of you that you’d get it done. And soon. The shift from a lighthearted conversation had gotten grim fast. Those conversations had typically over the lunches you had with Mrs. Kim. She was the first case of this bunch and also the most optimistic of the friends and family. You felt that you had to keep her updated and in turn she continued to put her trust in you.

“I know. She’s counting on you; I just know it. She knows you’ll get it done somehow.” The words strike you in your core. That’s right, there’s a lot of people counting on you right now. One more family just got added to the list this morning. You try not to think about the handful of others that decided to have you stop looking after they’ve given up that their daughters would come back. It pained you to have them retract their hope enough to have you close their cases, but you wouldn’t stop even if they asked you. You didn’t want to have to leave them in the dark while their daughters were missing. Lord knows you were considering a murderer, but no bodies had turned up to your relief. You just hoped you didn’t have to continue praying for it not to happen.

The call ended quickly, and you spent the next couple of hours going over your information and collecting information from the family of the newest missing girl. She was hanging out with friends when she was all of a sudden separated from the group at the mall. It was a busy place, but camera footage and eyewitnesses last saw her roaming in a store before her trail goes cold. This was frustrating. Rumors had spread about the girl going missing already, but since she was a teen most people assumed that she just ran away. She was pretty social according to her friends, and they just chalked it up to her personality and hanging with the wrong crowd. You decided to ponder over it on your lunch break, calling up your regular lunch partner to meet you at some café a couple blocks away.

Sehun doesn’t have to wave you over for you to sit down at the table you know he’s already at. It’s almost a ritual, to eat at this café every other week and sitting at the same table, nonetheless. He smiles warmly at you and pushes a plate towards you. “I already ordered for you. And don’t worry, I paid for it as a thank you for last time.” You mumble your thanks with a mouthful of food, briefly remembering the time you covered for his ride home after one drink too many.

“You’re godsent, you know that?” His smile turns into a smirk at that and you roll your eyes when you see you’ve stoked his ego. “Before you say ‘I know’, take out that notepad.” His smirk drops and a look of concentration comes onto his face.

“You know, sometimes I like to think you keep eating lunch with me because you like me or that we’re friends or something. But I also tend to think you only keep me around for my work.” He’s teasing you again and you tap the top of his notepad.

“You’re very much aware how much I like having you around. And I’m very much aware about how much you love to collect the information. Sometimes I think you only come back to hang out with me is because I’m not as tightlipped as some of my peers and give you things you can actually report on.” Sehun chuckles at that and the crinkle around his eye is back with that childlike glimmer in the eyes. He looks a lot more at ease than his funky smirk and that impish gleam instead.

He uncaps his pen with his mouth, his other hand busy flipping to a brand-new page and holding a worn notepad with too many torn papers taken from it. He keeps the cap in his mouth and hums for you to signal he’s ready.

“She’s 15.” His eyebrows furrow and a lisped curse slips out of him as he jots it down. He shakes his head sadly at that. “Last seen at the mall with her friends. Eyewitnesses say that she was roaming one of the stores alone before she disappeared. Camera footage doesn’t pick her up leaving the mall, but it’s been picked clean.”

“Has her friends or family said anything about behavior? Being more secretive or distant lately?” Sehun’s habit of keeping the pen cap in his mouth makes his words very mumbled and hard to understand. However, being around him and working with him so often has gotten you used to his silly sounded sentences. You still reach over to pluck it from his lips and snicker that his playfully annoyed glare.

“You don’t think I’ve asked? No, parents and friends claim that nothing was up. They let me in her room and let me search to find any hidden notes. Even let me look through her diary and it was just about some kid drama at school. Seemed ordinary to me, nothing that made me have to investigate this drama. She’s not a part of it anyways, just commenting about how it’s the talk of the halls and dumb.”

Sehun taps the pen against his cheek while your fingers are fiddling with the cap. He’s obviously not to report your words verbatim as it’s not really relevant, but he does appreciate how you share your findings with him. He appreciates your trust in him that he doesn’t skew the details or add too much personal information about these people. He appreciates how you let your thoughts wander with him. You tend to loosely think around him, bouncing ideas off of him every so often or word vomiting to better understand things as you try to explain.

You’d finished with your food while Sehun continues writing and jotting down notes, most likely questions or other tidbits not too concerning for you. Whenever he asks a question he needs for the article you respond and then nudge his plate so that he eats. It goes on like this a couple moments longer until he’s out of food and questions. He finishes jotting down whatever else he wants to and sticks the tip of his pen out to you. You, used to this procedure, cap his pen and look back up into his satisfied eyes. You scoff at his smug look and avoid his gaze as he rests his chin in his hand. He continues to stare at you while you pick at any crumbs you find interesting.

“Got everything you need?”

“How about we get some dessert?” You almost object and tell him you should be back by now until he starts collecting his things and getting out of his seat. “And don’t worry. I’ll pay. You just have to pay me back next time.” You sink lower into your seat in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands over your face. He laughs a little and stands behind your seat, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Come on, Sugar. You’re gonna need some sugar to keep functioning the rest of the day.”

“You and your dumb nicknames are going to kill me before the stress from this case will.” He stops shaking you and gives you a fond squeeze of your shoulders.

“Let’s go before you die on me then.” You turn in your seat to watch him head towards the door before deciding to follow suit and grunting when you do get up. There’s a mini pep in his step and you’re guessing that’s because Sehun has another excuse to visit that favorite bakery of his that a friend of his works at. You couldn’t blame him. There were some doughnuts and cupcakes that were to die for.

As you passed by, you saw some missing persons posters hung up in some alley walls or taped to some lampposts. You’re guessing that’s how Mrs. Kim got news of the missing girl before you caught up with her. Sehun notices your gaze following the long trail of posters, most likely hung up by the gang of girls that were last with their friend. “Is that her?” The both of you come to a stop in front of a small cluster of the posters. He takes on down and holds it out in front of the both of you. You nod and Sehun folds the paper into fours and pockets it for later. “That saves me having to dig around to put that in the paper.”

He tries to keep the mood up as he hums a tune, swinging his arms around and looking around at the people walking the streets. It does little to help, but you do appreciate the thought as he glances at you every now and then to check in. He’s switched songs so many times since he opts for a different, better tune to keep him occupied. You’re trying to decipher his fifth song switch when you finally make it to the bakery.

“Kyungsoo!” Sehun sings into the shop as the door chimes noisily. Luckily, Kyungsoo isn’t tending to any customers at the moment. He pops his head out from behind the counter with a blank face and his lips drawn into a straight line. However he may look, there’s a happy sparkle in his eye at the sight of you two.

“What do you want now?” He asks sarcastically but readies himself anyways.

“I want something with chocolate.” Sehun says as he scans the overhead menu even though he knows exactly what he wants. “Please.” He doesn’t forget to add with a warm smile, which Kyungsoo returns in kind. They both turn to you expectantly and you sputter, not having anything in mind just yet.

“O-Oh! I’ll, uh… I’ll have…” You pause and bite your lips. Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by all the choices even though you’ve been here before.

“How about some donut holes? And if you don’t like it, you can always have some of mine,” Sehun offers as he turns that warm smile to you.

“What, trying to stick with that cops eat donuts type of thing?” You joke but are grateful at the distraction from you bumbling about. Kyungsoo lets out an amused huff and prepares something for you both of you, making sure to toss in a couple extra pieces in the bag for you. You give him a silent thanks as you nod and take the bag from him as Sehun whips out his wallet in a practiced manner.

The first bite of the donut hole is full of cinnamon and a little honey. Kyungsoo’s been experimenting and you hum at the taste as you squeeze the half-bitten donut hole. As Sehun’s card is ringing up he turns to you with an eyebrow as he wordlessly asks how it tastes. Instead, you offer him the rest of your bite while you chew, and he instantly opens up his mouth to eat the rest. It’s almost like you’ve done this a million times in your life and a million more in your past lives together; you’ve known each other for that long, you think. The motion is easy and simple as he hums and turns back to collect his card and compliments Kyungsoo’s creation with his mouth full.

“It’s good. I like the new flavors, it’s better than just the boring sugar on it.” The words are muffled and both you and Kyungsoo give him a judgmental look as he wipes some of the cinnamon off the corner of his lips.

“… Thank you. I’ve been slowly trying to add more to the menu where I can,” Kyungsoo notes, and you look up again at the menu to see he’s added another couple options beside his regular few in his neat handwriting. He smiles at you again when you look back down. “Keep up the good work. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

You promise him and Sehun gently nudges you to turn and leave so he has a better exit path. It’s not like he couldn’t have gone around you, but it seems he opted to just turn and go. And with his broad shoulders, it seemed you were in his path. You nudge him back as you exit the bakery with your treats in hand.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sehun asks with his mouth full again, this time from a bite of his chocolatey pastry. Crumbs fly in the air and the snort as they do so, but your friend knows no shame and continues to look at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Probably looking over the case again… and waaay more paperwork than I’m happy with.”

He hums at that as he continues to walk you back to the station. You feel like he’s about to ask you something else, but you’re cut off by your phone ringing and his own buzzing with a couple messages.

“Breaks over.” He comments with a sigh as he scrolls through the messages and tries to type back with the same hand that grips his phone.

“It is.”

The both of you look at each other and trade another bite of each other’s treats. You took a bite of his mainly since you wanted something sweet, and he had his own bite since you felt like you had to repay him for it. He gives you a wave as he, thankfully, doesn’t shout with his mouth full of donut as he heads off to his office building. While you head back, you manage to catch the phone call on its last couple of rings before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“It’s Boa. You have a couple more files on your desk regarding the girls,” she says with a tired sigh. You know the chief thinks this is wasting time and resources, but you also know she wants to give these girls justice. “Some more schedules of their routines, some stuff they had upcoming, and some chat histories. There’s also someone waiting at the station to talk to you, a friend of the most recent one.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good,” she states and hangs up the call. You huff and make your way back to the station with a quickened pace. You wonder what this friend has to say since you’ve interviewed the family and teachers recently. Your mind is still reeling with possibilities when you make it back and find a familiar face at your desk.

“Yena, what can I do for you?” You ask kindly as you take a seat by the high school girl. She has a puffiness around her eyes that indicate she hasn’t been able to get a lot of sleep and has probably been crying a lot. You offer her some of your donut holes and she politely declines by holding a hand up before thinking of the right words to say.

Yena was the same age as her missing friend, 15 with a short bob and still wearing her school uniform. You’re wondering if she skipped school to come here, and she confirms your suspicions as she wrings her hands. “I just give you these. I found these in Chae’s locker, it’s some of her notebooks and some flyers. These events are all in the past, but one of them is her dream journal. We both keep one to achieve our dreams, except she doesn’t share hers because she thinks that the dream won’t come true then.”

You take the stack of papers and notebooks from her, eyeing the one she was referring to. It can’t be mistaken with the doodling, stickers, glitter, and large words that say ‘DREAM JOURNAL!’ right on the front.

“Thank you, Yena.” You say kindly, knowing that you’ll have even more to sort through and probably come out empty handed with, but every little bit helps. If you could be armed with even that much of a toothpick, you’d count it as a win.

“I just want my best friend to come back. That’s all I’ve been writing about in mine! I want her to come home.” Her eyes water and you push a box of tissues to her. She takes a shaky breath and dabs at her eyes gently and you realize that her eyes are redder than you thought. She dabs to prevent further irritating her eyes that have been covered in makeup to hide just how bad she’s been taking it.

“I promise, you won’t need a journal to make that come true, okay?” You say gently and comfort the poor girl. It’s another 15 minutes before she gets up and leaves, going back to school she promises.

You sigh as you look at the stack of notebooks she gave you. It was all her school notebooks besides her dream journal, which you knew wouldn’t be much of a look through unless you wanted to relieve your high school days and quiz yourself on whatever the kids were learning these days.

“You know, you shouldn’t be promising things like that.”

“Jongin, that girl was crying.”

“And you don’t think she won’t be if you can’t deliver that promise?”

You clench your hands into fists, narrowing your eyes on the word that seems to be mocking you right now. Because it might be true, you can only ‘DREAM!’ that this will all come to a happy end. Jongin sighs and pats your back.

“I’ll help you get through like 3 of those. Make sure it’s all just random notes so you know if they have anything that’s not about some ancient literature piece, okay?” He asks gently and you take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say quietly and start sorting through the flyers first.

A lot of them are of school events, cram school, auditions for some of the modeling or singing agencies, and one was even a poster of an actor you recognized from a popular drama currently. You chuckled as you saw the sticky note still attached to it that indicated Chae’s wishes to marry a guy like him. A couple more hours pass in between you checking the notebooks, painstakingly flipping through and reading every page just to make sure, and having to deal with other logistical tasks around the office.

Like promised, Jongin eventually makes it through the notebooks and puts them all on your desk with a sad shake of his head. “Math, English, and Composition. All notes, most of it is textbook and following what they did in class. Anything else was practice problems or doodles. These are no good.”

You groan and hang your head. “I’ve just barely gotten through her other two notebooks. A music one from a piano unit and one she kept solely for cram school. The flyers are all past events or just random ones that I think were trash and she never got to throw away.” You look pointedly at the crumpled up flyer that was from her school’s ‘Fish Club’… whatever that’s about. “Had to get through all the other files from the girls too… nothing new. I saved that dream journal for last.”

“Why, so you can honor making sure her dreams come true?” Jongin asks with a smile, lifting your spirits some.

“Yeah…” You trail off absently. You aren’t sure if maybe you were truly keeping up Yena and Chae’s superstition about their dream journals or if you were hoping that the last thing you got to would prove you some substantial evidence. Maybe you should’ve gotten to that first if so. But then you would’ve needed to spend extra time on it. Ugh! Another sigh makes it way out of you and Jongin frowns now.

“Save that for tomorrow. How about you come out with some of us for some drinks tonight? Get that tension off you.” Jongin gives you an expectant look as he sits on your desk. You rub your face and look up at him through your fingers as you slouch in your chair. “And don’t even think about getting to that journal tonight. Your brain is fried, you need a break, you’re burning yourself out.”

You purse your lips at him and groan again, this time throwing your head back over the top of your desk chair and spinning in it a little.

“Fine. But only for a little bit.”

Famous last words. It was not just a little bit. Jongin kept you entertained and kept handing you drinks as you listened to your peers share drunken stories. Even Jongdae came in for a little bit to say hi to everyone and cry a little about his wife and kid, showing everyone pictures. You were sure that he was sober and just living the high of life.

A twinge of jealousy shot through you at him being able to enjoy his life so much right now. You downed your drink and stared at the empty cup grumpily. You felt just like the cup. Maybe you are a cup. Did your legs always feel like that?

“Woah, you doing okay?” Jongin asks as he gets into your space to take a look at you. He was pretty tipsy, but doing way better than you right now. Both in spirits and sobriety.

“Jongiiiiin, I’m like this cup.” He has to jump back a little as you shove your cup in his face. “You see how it’s wet on the outside?”

“From the ice?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I’m all sweaty!” You shout at him, suddenly feeling like the room is a lot hotter.

“No, you’re not.”

“Look! Feel!” You try to grab his hand to bring it up to your forehead and he grimaces. He shakes his head and you try a couple more times before he pins your hand to the table and reaches for his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you home,” he says as he scrolls in his contacts. You try to look at the screen to see who he’s calling, but he brings the phone straight to his ear and turns a skeptical eye on you to make sure you don’t keep trying to bring his hand to probably stick you in the eyes.

You’re too distracted by pouting to care who he’s talking to. And your head hurts. The alcohol is hitting you fast. How much did you have again? Or was it because you drank the rest of your three-fourths of a cup in less than a minute? When was the last time you even drank like this? Since before you took on the first case ten months ago?

“He’s coming in 15,” Jongin says in your ear. You pop your head up from the table. You didn’t even know you had it down on the table in the first place.

“Who?” You ask sluggishly as you try to keep your eyes open. You don’t bother hearing a reply as you quickly make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter in there, and colder too. You feel better already by giving yourself some space and time to think for yourself. Not really feeling like you need to get everything out just yet, you lean against the wall and take some deep breaths.

Eventually, there’s a knock on the door and a call for your name. It takes a couple more tries before you push yourself off the wall and wash your face.

“Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to pull your head out of a toilet bowl.”

You yell out in shock, water flinging everywhere when you look up to see Sehun in the mirror.

“What are you doing here?” Water drips off your chin and you remember that you were washing your face. You sigh and see if any got on your shirt – a lot did – and look for the paper towels to wipe.

“At the bar or in the bathroom?” He asks. You grunt in response, eyes blocked by the soggy paper you’re using to scrub the water from your eyes. “Jongin told me you had too much and needed to be brought home. And again, I was making sure you didn’t decide to punish yourself and give yourself a swirlie.”

“Why would I do that?” You grumble at him. Your head was a lot clearer thanks to the rest, you probably spent all of Jongin’s promised 15 minutes against that wall. Plus, the water cooling you off made you feel like you could at least walk to a car before passing out.

“He said you looked sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

He gives you a once over. Hair a mess, probably from the wall. Face still red, from scrubbing with that scratchy paper towel, embarrassment, or the alcohol, probably from all three. Clothes wet from you spilling two handfuls of water all over yourself. And the heavy burden of the finding of 21 girls coming crashing back down onto your shoulders.

“Yeah… you look pretty sad to me.”

“Thanks,” you bite a little harsher than you intend to. But, thanks to the one who made you build a tougher skin with a level of sass on his own, Sehun takes it all in stride and smiles. He merely grabs you by the shoulders and leads you out of the bar. Jongin nods and waves you off, keeping your coworkers distracted by the state you’re in so you don’t get teased when you come back the next morning.

Between the time Sehun came and got you and when he arrived, he had already transferred your stuff from your coworker’s car to his. You saw this when he helped you climb in and your bags of notebooks were sitting in the back seat. Sehun buckled you in and shut the door for you. The state of mind you were in currently clearly showed you could do at least that, but Sehun chose not to care and did it for you anyways while you watched him walk around the car to the driver’s seat.

“If you fall asleep, just know that I’m not carrying you inside.”

“So my knight in shining armor does have a flaw for tonight’s rescue.” You sarcastically bat your eyes at him and he chuckles, shaking his head and he starts towards your apartment.

“I meant to add that I’d probably be dragging you up those three flights of stairs. By your feet. Head hitting each step.” Before you can ask why in offense, he grins with a shrug. “You went through all that training, not me. All my muscles go to my ears for listening to you go on and on about cases.”

“I’m the reason why you have a job,” You grumble as you stare at the passing buildings. Sehun keeps that stupid smile on his face and laughs.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The ride to yours is a lot quicker than usual since at this hour it’s already late hardly any traffic. Again, Sehun is humming some songs and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. At least this time there’s less of him switching it up since he’s forced to sing along for the whole 3 minutes. He’s still humming as he grabs all your stuff from the back seat and follows you up the stairs to your apartment. You silently curse the fact that the elevator is down for maintenance since you wish you didn’t have to climb that much while drunk. You feel even worse when you realize that Sehun took all of your bags and all of those notebooks, binders, and files are no joke. It’s a wonder that kids can carry all that on their backs plus whatever else you put into the bags.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sehun asks as you pause on the steps, a little behind you and huffing a little.

“For someone who claimed he doesn’t have the strength training to carry me up the stairs, you sure are doing real fine while walking up two and a half flights of stairs and carrying all those books.” Sehun lets out another huff, shorter than usual that let you know he was working up quite a sweat.

“I work out.” He says plainly and grins at you again, which makes you roll your eyes at the statement and continue forth. He’s been over before, plenty of times. He’s come over to bring food on your sleepless nights when you just can’t sleep or spend so long trying to work on another case.

You finally make it to your apartment and eventually into your room. Sehun had set the bags down by your couch where you already had a bunch of files spread out on the coffee table. He tuts and grabs one of the papers and gives it a quick skim.

While you change into comfortable, cleaner clothes he hums and calls out from your small space. “You really need to learn about work-life balance.” He sets the paper back down and goes about preparing you some essentials for when you wake up in the morning definitely hungover.

“You know why I can’t,” you call back as you collapse onto the bed with a groan. Your body all of a sudden feels so heavy and it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You huff into your pillow as you try to block out the haunting words of all the names of the 21 girls that prevent you from sleeping at night. That prevent you from functioning unless you can figure out a way to bring them all home.

From your couch, Sehun makes himself comfy and sighs. He folds his hands over his stomach and quietly says to himself, “Yeah… I know.”

[missrosegold]

and if my body should fade i'll trust you with my soul part II

Part I can be found here

Synopsis: You’ve always been able to see the man with white hair and charred skin around your village, even though it seemed that nobody else could.

Or, you ended up making a deal with death, and now he’s come to collect.

Word count: 30k

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem reader)

Warnings: Mentions of death, strong language, smut, so Minors or ageless blogs DNI. This is rated 18+ Additional tags listed below. This does take place in a somewhat medieval inspired AU so there are some misogynistic tones in some parts of the story.

Playlist: Sparky Deathcap – September (we got fire) instrumental version, slowed.

Thank you once again to the lovely @candycandy00 for editing this for me, and another massive thank you to miss @kimkaelyn for making the banner for me! (I love it so much!)

You sigh to yourself as you check medical supplies in your village’s apothecary, making a mental note to tell the healer you’re training under that you’re running low on Feverfew and Echinacea.

Fall has arrived in full swing. The dense forest that surrounds your town has changed its leaves from vibrant green to beautiful shades of red and yellow. It’s beautiful, but you’ve never been much of a fall person. You know what comes next. The autumn months mean winter is close behind, and you’ve never liked the cold. For some reason, you can’t shake the feeling that this upcoming winter is going to be a particularly bad one.

You shake your head and return to your task at hand, but you can’t stop your mind from wandering as you continue to take stock of the medical inventory.

After the mysterious disappearance of your betrothed, your parents didn’t try to engage you to anyone else, and you can’t help but feel relieved. Marrying one of the men from your village was never in the cards for you, a fact that you made very clear to them after your formal betrothal’s disappearance. You weren’t interested in marriage or raising a family of your own. Not right now, possibly not ever.

In the end, you decided to train under your village’s healer – a kind old woman named Chiyo, who’s been the town healer for longer than you’ve been alive – as a means of getting out from under your parents.

Despite word of your betrothal’s mysterious disappearance quickly spreading throughout your village, there had been some other potential suitors that had come to you after you had started training at the apothecary. While none of them were rude or malicious, you always turned them down with a gentle smile before sending them on their way.

Besides, none of them held your heart the way a certain pyromancer did.

You haven’t seen Touya for a few months now, not since the disappearance of your betrothed. You’re not completely sure what happened after Touya found him – you’re not sure if you want to know, even though you have a pretty good idea of what happened if the fresh burns he had come back with had anything to say about it. You know better than to ask though, knowing full well that Touya will never tell you the full truth, even if you already know without him having to say it.

You sometimes wonder if there’s anything left of the blacksmith’s son.

You know that you should feel shocked, horrified even, that your pyromancer was capable of doing such an atrocious thing. But all you feel when you think about it, is a strange sense of relief.

You wonder if that makes you a bad person.

Inwardly, you know it probably should, especially when the blacksmith came looking for his son not long after his disappearance. When he had asked you if you knew anything about why his son had seemingly taken off without so much as a word to anyone, you had said no, of course, because what else could you have said to him? It’s not like anyone aside from you could see Touya to begin with, and there no way to explain to the blacksmith the fate that had most likely befallen his son.

Regardless, all you knew was that you’d never see him again. Touya had made sure of that.

There are still search parties that go out every once in a while, looking for him and a part of you wants to tell them that it’s a waste of time, that he’s nowhere to be found, but you won’t. It’s yours and Touya’s dirty secret to share now, and it will stay that way until you take your dying breath.

You suppress a sigh as you take a break from checking inventory, and your thoughts wander back to Touya of their own accord. He had warned you that he wouldn’t be back for some time after he had brought you home – he had serious business to take care of in the eastern part of the country, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be back. You hope he’s doing well, wherever he is.

Your heart clenches when you think of him. You’re not sure what you are anymore. You told him that you loved him, and even though he didn’t say it back to you, you’re certain that he loves you too.

“You know why.” Those words have echoed in your head since he said them to you. You’ve known that the two of you have been bordering on the cusp of something for a while now, and that solidifies it.

You promise yourself that the next time he comes to see you, you’ll ask him what you are to him. What this is.

Eventually, Chiyo dismisses you in the midafternoon, and you find yourself taking the lonely path up towards Dabi’s temple. You’ve started going there a lot more in Touya’s absence. Ever since you kissed the white-haired pyromancer in Dabi’s temple, you had started making a habit of coming back to the derelict temple, in an effort to clean it up a little.

For some reason, Touya seems to have a fondness for the place, and you’re starting to understand why. Despite its outward appearance and dust covered insides, you’ve never once felt unwelcome in the temple itself. It’s calm and quiet, and the more you visit the abandoned shrine, you realize it’s really a shame that it was abandoned by the priests, because it was probably quite beautiful back in the day.

With that thought, you had decided to take it upon yourself to try and restore the temple back to its original glory.

When you had brought up what you wanted to clean Dabi’s shrine to the priests at Hawks’s temple, you had been met with disbelieving looks, as the temple itself had sat vacant for well over a century. But once you had assured them that you weren’t there to cause trouble, and that you only wanted to clean it up a little, they had relented, and even gave you cleaning supplies, telling you that if you needed help, all you needed to do was come and get them.

You had laughed to yourself as you took the cleaning supplies back with you to the temple. The only reason why you had gone to them in the first place was to tell them what you planned to do, regardless of whether they liked it or not. Hawks’s temple was the closest to Dabi’s, and you’d end up walking past it to get to the secluded shrine more often than not. The last thing you needed was them assuming that you were doing something strange, when it was the exact opposite.

You soon found yourself in front of the large double doors once more, but unlike the first time you had entered the temple, you didn’t hesitate to let yourself in this time, shutting them softly behind you. You set your shawl down by the entrance and take off your shoes to avoid tracking any dirt in from the outside. You breathe in deeply as the faint smell of incense hits your nose, looking around the large room with a content smile on your face.

It’s not perfect, but its far better than what it was previously. You’ve washed and cleaned the floors and walls, sweeping out almost a century’s worth of dust and other debris. You’ve scraped the ancient remains of melted candle wax off the alter in front of Dabi’s statue, and replaced the melted down prayer candles with new ones. You brought in some pillows and plush rugs from home that your mother was about to throw out, not wanting them to go to waste, and also wanting to make the temple more homey, in case anyone aside from yourself wanted to visit. You keep incense burning constantly to get rid of the musty smell that has always lingered around the temple, and it finally seems to be working. Lastly, with the help of two priests from Hawks’s temple, you were finally able to fix that damn hole in the ceiling above the statue of the Cremation God.

Now you’re at the temple to do one last thing: clean the giant marble statue of the Death God himself. You didn’t see much of a point cleaning it before the hole got fixed, but thankfully, the sculpture doesn’t seem to be very dirty. Still, you want to go over it, and wash down what you can reach – it’s only polite after all.

Besides, after what you learned about him from Touya, you figure that it’s not a bad idea to stay in the illusive god’s good graces--

“Hello Princess.”

You jump at the sound of a familiar smoky rasp, and whirl around, only to see Touya standing a few feet behind you, a smirk plastered across his dis-coloured lips.

“Touya! When did you get here? I thought you said you didn’t know when you were going to be back! Did you finish with whatever you were doing in the East early?” you gasp delightedly, as the tall man strides towards you. He shakes his head.

“No, the situation there is a bit more… serious then I originally thought. I’m probably going to be there for a while yet, but I had some time, and I wanted to see you.” He stops directly in front of you, and his smirk becomes softer. “How have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been… keeping busy.” You tell him, lacing your hands together in front of you. “I’ve started working at the village apothecary. Chiyo runs a tight ship, but I’m learning a lot from her and she’s good to me.”

“What did your parents think about that?”

“Well… they weren’t pleased, but that’s more to do with me telling them that I won’t be courting anyone anytime soon. I told them I wasn’t interested, nor will I ever be. My mother isn’t happy, but at least she hasn’t forced me into any other engagements… not after what happened before you left.” You tell him honestly, and Touya only nods, his expression not giving anything away.

“Glad they’ve finally taken the hint. What else have you gotten up to, pretty girl?”

“Take a look around, you tell me.” You tell him with a tiny smile. You watch his brows furrow together in confusion, and he looks around the room, only for his eyes to widen, like he’s seeing the temple for the first time.

You watch as he investigates the plush rugs and pillows you have scattered around the base of the alter, how he takes in the sight of fresh prayer candles lit at the bottom of the statue – how clean and bright and warm you’ve managed to make it, since you were both here last. He seems overwhelmed, like he’s at a loss for words.

“I did it for you.” You admit softly, feeling your face heat up with your admission.

“You did this… for me?” he asks slowly, not looking at you, as he takes in everything that you’ve done. You smile softly at him even though he can’t see it.

“You seem to be pretty fond of this place, and you know so much about its history, I thought that maybe I could fix it up a little so I could have something to show you when you came back.” That gets his attention, and he fixes his azure eyes on you, locking you in place.

“You did this for me.”

“I… yes… Do you not like it?” you sputter, suddenly worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“No, Gods no. You did this for me.” He says breathlessly. “This is more than I could have ever hoped for.” He closes the remaining space between you, and his obscenely warm hands find your waist, while yours automatically come rest on his chest. “God’s you did this for me.”

“Yes.” You whisper. “Touya? I don’t understand--?”

The words die on your lips as Touya surges forwards and presses his rough lips to yours. You feel the grip he has on your waist turn bruising, as he kisses you hard and deep, bordering on desperate.

“I love you.” He tells you, pulling away momentarily to bring one hand up from your waist to cup the back of your neck. “I love you. You were the first person to see me in so long – I knew you were different, I knew you were for me, and then you did this-“

He smashes his lips back onto yours, and you wrap your hands around his neck. Normally, you’d be mindful of his burns, but you’re so engrossed in his feverish kisses that you squeeze him tightly, and feel him moan into your mouth in response. He pulls back slightly for air, and pants heavily against you.

“Let me have you.” He growls against your lips. “Right here, right now. Gods help me I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you. I need you.”

“Okay, I—okay—yes.” You hear yourself gasping, and suddenly you’re swept off your feet. You feel your back hit something soft. Turning your head slightly to the side, you realize that Touya has placed you down onto a small pile of pillows. The realization of what you’re about to do hits you full force, but you don’t feel scared. You want this, you want him. You’ve wanted him for a long time.

Touya looms over you, caging you in, and runs the back of a heavily scared hand over your cheek. You shiver from the sensation of his feverishly hot skin and the cooler tones of the staples in his hand running over your skin. He gives you a wicked smile, as he sits back on his haunches, and starts to push your skirts up, revealing your bare legs.

You lurch up and grab his hands, forcing him to pause. He chuckles low in his throat at your actions, and pries your hands off of his own, placing a kiss on the back of one as his azure blue eyes meets your flushed face. “Relax my love. Let me take care of you.”

“It’s just- I mean, I’ve never done this before. I’m-“

“I know.” Touya damn near purrs, and you feel heat pool in your belly. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll be so gentle with you, I promise.”

You nod shakily and lower yourself back down onto the pillows, as Touya hikes your skirts up, revealing your legs and bottoms. He groans deeply as he kneads the plush of your thighs. “Fuck Princess, you’re perfect. Just like I knew you would be.”

“You’ve thought about me?” For some reason, his words of endearment strike a chord with you.

“Of course.” Touya murmurs, coming up to kiss you briefly, before taking your hand in one of his own. “Whenever I’m away, or I’m in the middle of a mission – alone and lonely – I think of you.”

He brings your hand down to his crotch, and sure enough, you feel a bulge underneath his pants. “See what you do to me?” he growls as he releases your hand so that he can work on shimmying your panties down your legs. You go to move your hand away, but he fixes you with a stern look. “Keep it there. Don’t move until I tell you to.”

You nod as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and leans back slightly to pull them down your legs, almost ripping them off in his haste. As soon as the offending material is gone, Touya gently wraps his hands around you knees and pulls them up so your feet are planted on the ground, before nestling his way back in between them, not taking his eyes off of the junction in between your legs.

“Gods.” He whispers. “Fuck.”

You feel him throb in the thick canvases of his pants as he runs a finger through your folds, causing you to shudder and clench around nothing. “God love, you’re fucking soaked.” Touya hisses, as he pushes your hand away from his hardness and rips his cloak over his head, revealing his bare chest to you.

In all the years that you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him this exposed. His chest is a patchwork of scars and staples just like his arms and face. Most of the skin is dead and badly burnt, but you do see some spots where there are still glimpses of healthy skin amongst the mess of purpled burns. Just like you suspected, his body is lean but ripped with corded muscles that bunch and flex with his every move. He looks like he was built by a god – a god with a twisted sense of humor – but you could care less. You think he’s perfect.

“You’re beautiful.” You tell him honestly – not wanting him to think you were focusing only on his burns – and he looks almost bashful at your words, letting a small chuckle escape him as he gently picks up one of your hands to press a quick kiss on the back of your knuckles.

“Look who’s talking.” He fires back at you, as he uses his thumbs to spread your lower lips apart. It should be embarrassing how wet you are from a little teasing, but Touya looks absolutely enthralled. 

“Is all this for me?” he muses to himself softly. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he bends down and swipes his tongue through your folds, causing you to moan loudly and try to slam your legs closed on impulse, but Touya is faster – forcing them to stay open with a hand on each inner thigh as he continues to lap at your pussy.

You whimper involuntarily from the ministrations, and Touya squeezes your thighs as he comes back up. “I know, I know love. I can’t wait any longer either. Goddamn-“ he almost snarls; his hands immediately going to his belt, as he unfastens it and tosses it to the side somewhere.

“I can’t believe someone as beautiful as you is letting someone like me do this to them.” he mutters as he pushes his pants down to just past mid-thigh, allowing his dick to spring free – and through you’ve never seen a man’s cock until now – you’re certain that it’s the prettiest one that you’ll ever see.

It’s long and thick and curves slightly upwards. It’s as pale as the undamaged parts of his skin and you think it looks quite lovely. You’re a little nervous about the size of it, but Touya doesn’t allow you to look at it for long, before he’s lining himself up to your entrance.

You swallow thickly as you feel how big and hot the head is pressed up against your tight entrance, and Touya must sense your hesitation, because he drapes himself over you, supporting himself on his hands, as he takes both your hands in one of his own, and gently pins them above your head, stooping down to kiss you once more.

“Breathe.” He murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips hotly. “I’ll make you feel so good. Just lie back and breathe for me, my love.”

And with that, he slowly pushes himself in.

The stretch is delicious and you know that he’s ruined you for any other potential man. But there’s never been anyone else, has there? From the moment you officially met, it’s always been him. It will only ever be him.

Touya is cursing above you, but you can’t hear him – too lost in your own pleasure. It isn’t long before he’s picking up a steady rhythm, his hips hitting against yours with a wet smack. You’re so wet from his earlier teasing that he glides in and out with little resistance, and you feel your legs starting to shake from the waves of pleasure he’s inflicting upon you.

“Gods, how are you so tight?” Touya groans as he leans down to capture your lips with his. You kiss him back eagerly, wishing that your hands were free so you could wrap them around his neck, but he only tightens his grip on them when he feels you start to resist against his hold. He pulls back after a moment to take in your pretty face and glassy eyes, his hips not slowing down, as they continue to rut into yours.

“You’re mine.” He snarls hotly, swooping down to suck a mark onto the junction of your neck and shoulder, causing you to cry out and clench around him.

“You’re mine- fuck it, you’re mine, no one else’s.” He sucks another mark onto the other side of your neck, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, as something in your lower stomach snaps – the wet sounds of your union becoming louder as you cum around his cock. Touya’s hips falter for a fraction of a second as he registers what happened, before he the last shred of restraint he had snaps, and starts pounding into you relentlessly, ignoring your sobs as he stimulates your already oversensitive insides.

“When you told me… that they had engaged you to that bastard-” He hisses lowly in your ear, as you continue to sob. “-I almost burnt your damn village to the ground. How dare they try to take what’s mine?”

A dark look enters his blue irises. “I wanted to fuck you right here in this temple afterwards – send a message to your parents and anyone else who thought they could have you, that you were spoken for.”

“Touya- I’m-“ you barely manage to choke out in between sobs. Your body feels like it’s on fire from his words. You feel the tell-tale signs of another orgasm quickly approaching, and you didn’t think it was possible for you to feel so good with the way he’s now mercilessly drilling into your insides. You had talked with your married friends about sex before, that was a given, but even they didn’t describe it as feeling this good.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He pulls away, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me who you belong to, and I’ll give you everything.”

“You!” You manage to scream out, voice cracking as he hits a particularly sensitive spot in you. “It’s you! I’ve always belonged to you—you alone! I’ve only ever loved—Oh GODS!” you wail as you cum around his length again. The glint in Touya’s eyes become frantic and his hips stutter as you spasm violently around him. He finally let’s go of your wrists, in favour of grabbing your hips with both hands to pull you down onto him and meet his powerful thrusts.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He breathes. “Fuck love; I’m going to fill you full of me. Let the whole world – the gods – all of them, know you belong to me-“

You keen at his words, and he manages to grind out a breathy, “Shit-“ as he spills himself inside you, swooping down to capture your lips with his rough ones again, as he fucks his cum into you. You’re so blissed out, all you can do is wrap your arms tightly around his leathery neck, until his hips still; still buried deep inside of you.

Eventually you break the kiss, but Touya makes no move to get off of you. He moves his hands up from your hips, so he can take some of his weight off you, and rests his head on your collarbone, as he struggles to calm his palpating heart. You wriggle your hips and Touya grimaces, mouthing over one of the marks he sucked onto your neck.

“Wait.” He mumbles. “Give it a minute. It’s sensitive.” His comment pulls a laugh from you, and you feel him grin against your skin.

You stay joined like that until you feel his dick soften inside you, and Touya gently pulls out of you. You whimper at empty feeling, and close your legs as you feel a rush of fluid that you already know is a combination of both of your releases, leak out from in-between your legs. Touya smiles at your reaction, the staples in his face pulling slightly as he strokes the leg closest to him gently.

He rolls onto his back on the pillows beside you, and pulls you onto your side, so your head is on his chest. You listen to the rapid beating of his heart, and watch as his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. It almost lulls you to sleep, but Touya suddenly speaks up after a moment, catching your attention.

“I am the only one allowed to see you like this.” He rumbles low in his throat, running a warm hand down your side, feeling the muscles jump underneath his touch. “No man, no one. You belong to me. I’ll take such good care of you.”

“But you’re going to leave me again.” You whisper, hating how you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “You said so yourself: you have unfished business in the East still. Who knows when you’re coming back…Besides… No one can see you aside from me. How can I possibly explain this to anyone?”

“It’ll be different this time, I swear it.” Touya shushes you, smoothing a hand over your hair. “I’m going to be in the East for a while yet, but when I come back, I’m going to stay here with you, for a long time. No more disappearing acts for a while.”

You lift your head off his chest to stare at him in shock, to gage if he’s saying it to make you feel better, but you see nothing but honesty in his eyes. He touches your cheek. “I promise little one. I’ll make it work. I will stay with you. For as long as I can.”

You don’t mean to, but you can’t stop the tears that well up in your eyes and spill past your cheeks at his promise, as you place your head down on his scared chest and cry. You don’t know how long you stay like that, but Touya makes no effort to get up – simply holding you close and murmuring sweet nothings into your hair as you weep.

It’s getting harder and harder to say goodbye to him every time he leaves. You feel like your heart is breaking inside of your ribcage, whenever he has to go. This time is no different, but it will certainly leave you feeling hollower than the other times that came before.

Eventually, once your tears have dried, you separate to get dressed and fix yourselves up. You’re straightening out your skirts as Touya tosses his dark traveling cloak back over his torso, obscuring his muscular chest from view. He must see you blushing, because he tosses you a grin over his shoulder at you, moving to grab your shoes and shawl for you from the front of the temple.

He kisses you as you wrap your shawl around yourself, and rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you.” He tells you, gesturing around the temple. “For doing this. It means more to me than you know.” You nod in response, and he intertwines your hands together as he leads you to the temple entrance and you exit together. 

He kisses you deeply once more outside the temple. He has a pained expression on his face when he pulls away, and he looks like he wants to tell you something important, but something is holding him back. He’s quiet for a moment before he squeezes your hand.

“I need you to promise me something while I’m gone.” He tells you seriously, and you nod, signaling for him to continue. He sucks in a sharp intake of breath.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of your health while I’m away. If someone comes to the apothecary with a strange sickness, or any signs of odd infections outside of a normal fever – I want you to go home and stay there.”

You furrow your brows, not understanding what he’s saying, but one look at his face tells you that he’s deadly serious and it’s not open for discussion.

You agree that you’ll be careful, and you’ll keep your eyes open for anything strange, and that seems to put him at ease. He kisses you once more before letting go of your hand, and slowly backs away from you. Once he’s a good distance away from you, he smiles sadly at you, before a raging torrent of blue flames engulf him once more, and he’s gone.

Life in the village goes on as normal for the next two months. The brightly coloured leaves that once decorated the trees surrounding your village have started to fall off the branches with large gusts of wind as winter draws closer.

You throw yourself into work at the apothecary, grateful for how busy it keeps you. You haven’t heard anything from Touya for a while now, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going on in the East that has him so tied up. You haven’t heard any news from the Eastern part of the county in a long time, so if something big is going on, your town will probably be one of the last places to know. You don’t see much sense in worrying about it though, so you divide your time between visiting Dabi’s temple, and Chiyo’s teachings.

You’ve almost forgotten about Touya’s cryptic warning – until the stranger shows up in town one day. (Or rather, stumbled in – since he didn’t even make it three feet from the town’s entrance before collapsing in the streets, leading to several concerned townspeople finding him and bringing him to the apothecary for treatment)

He’s malnourished and sicker than you’ve ever seen anyone in your life. You and Chiyo spend days caring for him, with no results.

He dies one week after arriving in town, and is buried just outside of the village borders. An unfortunate tragedy, but you can’t save everyone. A harsh lesson that your mentor has drilled into you. You never even figured out what was afflicting him, though Chiyo think’s it may have been an advanced case of pneumonia.

At first, it was just him.  

Then, another man got sick with symptoms eerily similar to what the stranger had.

Then it was two.

Then three.

Then twelve people in one day.

The number of infected only skyrocket from there.

Before you know it: there is an entire epidemic in your small town. Chiyo eventually figures out what it is, but by that point, eight people are dead and the number of people sick is quickly spiraling out of control.

Plague. The black plague of decay. Death.

Your parents beg you to come home, as they don’t want you around such a deadly sickness, and truthfully, you don’t want to be anywhere near it either – but you can’t leave Chiyo by herself. She’s the town’s only healer and she’s old. You know if something happens to her, the whole town is screwed, so you grit your teeth, mask up, and stay by her side.

For a while, things are going about as well as they can be. People are still dying at an alarming rate, but you and Chiyo somehow manage to stay healthy, and you keep trying to treat those who aren’t as sick the best you can with what you’ve got.

Then one day, you feel light-headed and nauseous out of the blue and you look down, only to notice an alarmingly dark black spot on your arm that you know wasn’t there the day before.

Everything goes downhill from there.

-----

Winter has arrived in your village full force, but you can’t see it. You haven’t seen anything outside of the four walls that make up your room for a while now.

You had caught the plague. The second you had shown Chiyo the black mark on your arm, she had immediately sent you away with some herbs crushed into a tablet for you to take to slow down the spread of the sickness.

Slow down being the key words. There was no cure for the decay plague. Once you had it, it was a death sentence. It was only a matter of time before it took your life.

Your parents had grabbed you and locked you in your room the moment they had seen you stumbling back from the apothecary. You hadn’t seen them face-to-face since. You only saw brief glimpses of them when they opened your door to slide food into your room on a tray, or when they came back to collect your dishes, though these days, you didn’t have much of an appetite.

They didn’t even have to let you back into the house once they saw the mark on your arm. But they still did without any hesitation. Despite knowing how ill you were going to become, they still insisted on taking care of you. You may not have agreed with their choices when it came to your personal life, but it was comforting to know that at the end of the day, your parents still loved you. Even if you went against everything they wanted for you.

A violent fit of coughing racks your frail body, and you automatically lift your arms to cover your mouth. When you pull your arm away, you cringe at the sight of red splattered across your forearm, before dropping it back down beside you on your bed with a muffled thud.

You can’t even look at your arms right now. Your skin, which used to be sun-kissed and clear, is now pale and speckled with ominous looking splotches of black, as the sickness makes its way through your body. You don’t even want to know what the rest of you looks like. You haven’t looked at yourself in a mirror since you were confined to your room. You’re not sure you’ll be able to handle what you see.

The room starts to spin around you and everything hurts. You close your eyes in a weak attempt to stop the jarring movement, but it does little to help you. Opening your eyes doesn’t make things better – your vison has become burry lately, and you can’t focus on anything anymore. Normally this would upset you, but you don’t have any strength left in you to care.

You know that you don’t have much time left. You don’t want to say it out loud, but you know your time is drawing closer. Based on the few times you’ve heard your mother – and on occasion, your normally stoic father – sob outside your door as they collect your untouched dishes, they know it too. You’ve held out longer than most people have, but you know that soon you’ll be making your way to the Underworld, it’s inevitable.

You only pray that all the visits you’ve made to Dabi’s temple over the last few months have paid off, and the Cremation God will be kind to you once he comes to collect you.

Dabi. His temple. Touya.

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the thought of your white-haired lover, as a single tear falls from your eye, and crashes onto your pillow, humble and silent. 

You’re never going to see him again. You don’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s true. As far as you know, he’s still in the East while you’re here, dying in your room. As tempted as you’ve been to use his name to call him to you one last time, you won’t.

Powers or not, you don’t want him to potentially end up with the plague too. Not to mention, you don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want him to remember you sick and frail as you are now. You’d rather have him remember you fondly: full of life and happy. There’s no need to put him through that kind of anguish.

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wishing you could see him one last time-

Suddenly, your room feels unnaturally warm. It’s been very cold lately, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re dying that it makes your room feel colder than it should, but now your room is borderline sweltering.

You swear that you see a faint blue glow out of your blurry peripherals, followed by the tell-tale smell of something burning, before the glow dissipates into nothing. The intense heat remains and even though you can’t see very well, you know that someone is in the corner of your room.

“Who is it?” you manage to rasp out and you hear the stranger’s breath falter, as if they weren’t expecting you to be awake. The stranger takes three slow, purposeful strides until they are at your bedside, hovering over you. You blink hard, trying to see who the intruder is, but your vision must be getting worse, because all you can make out is a tall, white being above you.

You have no idea who, or what you’re looking at and are about to panic, until the figure bends slightly, and two familiar, warm, rough hands cradle your cheeks like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

Choked sobs rack your body despite how much the movement hurts you, because you know who’s by your side, even if you can’t make out his finer features. Your suspicions are confirmed the second you hear his low, gravelly voice.

“Beloved… what has happened to you?”

“Touya… is that you?” you whisper, and you feel his fingers tense under you. His thumbs swipe at your cheeks, even though you can’t seem to make any more tears to shed.

“I’m here beloved. I’m here now.” he rumbles quietly. He falls silent for a moment, then you hear him ask “ Why didn’t you call me to you?”

He sounds… sad… heartbroken even.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this…” you trail off, not knowing what else to say. Touya doesn’t seem to know either, but from the way he sighs, you think he’s holding back tears as well.

“Did I not tell you to be careful?” There is no anger behind his words. Just defeat. You don’t think it’s directed at you though.

“I know.” You tell him, wishing desperately that you could lift your arms up enough to touch his face like he is doing yours. “It just happened so suddenly. There was a strange man who got sick, and then the next thing we knew, almost the whole town was plague-ridden. I couldn’t leave Chiyo by herself.”

“I know.” Touya sighs. “Are you… are you comfortable?”

“I can’t see very well anymore… I think I’m dying very soon.” You admit softly. You manage to reach up to cover one of his hands with your cold one. “You shouldn’t be here… as much as I love seeing you one last time, you might catch the plague as well – I don’t want that for you.”

“The plague doesn’t affect me. Don’t worry yourself about it.” Touya murmurs gently, and you swear you faintly see something red and thick, roll down his face. He leans down to press a light kiss to your forehead, and you’re not sure why, but suddenly your vision clears, and you’re able to see the best you have in weeks. You look up at him in wonder, only for your breath to catch in your throat.

Instead of his normal dark clothes that you’re used to seeing him in; Touya is dressed in a flowing, white burial shroud that exposes his chest. It makes him look eirthral, like a ghost that had come back from the grave. What really concerns you though, is the right side of his face – the side closest to you. The burnt flesh on his lower jaw by his mouth is gone, and you swear that you see the bone underneath starting to appear.

“Touya—Touya what happened to you? What have you done to yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me. It looks worse than it is.” Touya grumbles, dismissing your concerns. “The person that you should be worrying about, is you.”

“I think it’s a little late for that, love.” You tell him softly. “I’ve been sick for a while now… I’ve held out longer than a lot of other people have, but I think my luck is running out fast.”

This time you know you’re not seeing things. You watch in shock as a large droplet of blood oozes out from underneath the burnt skin under his eye and slowly rolls down his face, leaving a shiny red trail behind it as it makes its way down his ruined skin. You try to bring a hand up to wipe it away, but Touya beats you to it, releasing your cheeks long enough to turn away from you and compose himself.

“That crusty bastard. He promised me that he would keep it away from here… guess it got past him too-“ you hear Touya mutter under his breath. “It doesn’t matter now, gods… fuck.” He turns to face you again, and you see a red streak running along the side of his face, where he tried to wipe the blood tear away. His hands return to yours, and he wraps them up tightly.

“I tried… I tried so fucking hard to keep it contained. I thought, if I could contain it to the East, then it wouldn’t spread and it wouldn’t come here, to you. Even though I’ve seen it happen, so many times over the years. I thought I could change it.”

“Touya what are you talking about, you’re not making any sense.” You beg him, but he doesn’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in his own head, as he squeezes your hands in his own.

 “It’s not fair. You’re so full of life. I don’t want you to die like this.”

Something in his gaze shifts and the sadness from earlier is gone. Instead, a determined look has appeared in its place. He cradles the back of your head and neck with one of his hands as he gently lifts your head up to him, flinching at your pained whimpers.

“Do you trust me?” he asks you urgently.

“Of course.” You whisper, your vison is starting to darken again, but you try and keep your focus on Touya’s bright blue eyes.

“I can stop this.” He murmurs. “I can stop this and save you and what’s left of your town. But you need to make a deal with me. Do you accept?”

“A deal…? Stop this… I don’t…” you whisper, and Touya squeezes your hand, desperate to keep your attention on him.

“The full extent of my abilities come with a price. I can save you, but at a cost.”

“What’s the price?” you find yourself asking. You’re not sure how he intends to save anyone from something as severe as the plague with no cure; much less yourself, considering that you’re almost certainly on death’s doorstep, but you’re curious. Even if you’re beyond saving, maybe your town still has a chance.

“You.”

“Me.” You echo, still fighting to keep your gaze on him. “Why?”

“I told you already, you’re mine, you’ve always been mine. But this will bind us to each other indefinitely. Your life will become mine in exchange for me removing the sickness from you and your village. Do we have a deal?”

“Am I really worth that much?” you tease hoarsely, as you feel your eyes start to close against your will.

“You mean more to me than anything in this pathetic life.” You hear Touya grind out. “Let me do this for you. Please.”

He squeezes your hand, and his next words sound almost desperate. “I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my lifetime and I’ve lived a long time. Please let me do this for you.”

You know that under different circumstances, you wouldn’t agree to anything like this. Touya’s words are carrying an underlying weight to them, and you know there’s something that he’s not telling you. Normally, before agreeing to anything, you’d make sure everything was out in the open and that there weren’t any catches to your deal… but really, how much time did you have to ask about the finer details?

You were out of time. You knew it, and he knew it too.

Really, how bad would it be being his? Wasn’t that what you always wanted anyways?

“I accept.” You whisper, as your world fades to black, not even sure if Touya heard you or not.

He did.

The next few moments are a whirlwind. You feel Touya stand up above you and his hands go to your left forearm – to the spot where you first noticed the sickness. It’s arguably the worst spot on your body. The darkness has spread underneath your skin and takes up almost your full forearm now.

You feel his warm hands press into the skin of your forearm, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then his hands start to heat up, hotter and hotter, and you can smell something burning. You don’t know whether it’s your flesh or his, but you don’t have the energy to scream out, even though the pain is excruciating.

There’s a bright blue flash and you feel something being seared into your arm – in the same spot where your original plague mark was. Heat spreads through your body like a wildfire, and you feel like you’re being burned from the inside out. Suddenly, as quickly as the pain started it’s gone.

You’re shaking, gasping for air as you try to control your rapidly palpating heart, but you can’t open your eyes. Exhaustion hits you full force, and you feel what little strength you had left in you bleed out. Touya is still there, and you feel him slowly ease you back down onto your pillow, placing your arm down at your side once more.

“Rest now beloved. I’ll see you soon.”

No sooner than he says those words, you feel yourself slip off into slumber, and you allow the darkness to take you.

You wake to the sun streaming across your face

It’s the first time you’ve seen any hint of the sun in months, and at first, you think that you’ve died, but the tell-tale signs of stiffness in your muscles tell you that you’re still very much alive, if not very dehydrated.

The thought draws you up short.

You’re alive. You’re alive when you probably shouldn’t be. That means… Touya… he’d done it.

A burning feeling races through your left forearm and draws you up short. You slowly bring your arm up to look at what’s causing the pain, only for your eyes to widen impossibly.

The dark stain under your skin caused by the plague is gone, as are all of the other signs of sickness that had marked your body. What is on your arm, is nothing short of confusing.

A strange symbol is on your arm, in the spot you remember Touya gripping the hardest. A long, straight line runs horizontally done your forearm with three smaller lines running through it. Another long, straight line along the top of the first line completes the marking, and you stare at it in shock.

It covers the spot where you had your original plague mark, almost as if you’d never had it at all.

You reach out and gingerly touch the mark, only for your door to open suddenly – causing you to yank your nightgown sleeve down in a hurry. You glance over to see both of your parents standing in your doorway. It seems to take them a moment to process that you’re awake, and seemingly plague free, before they rushed to your bedside and have pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re awake! Thank gods you’re awake! We thought that we lost you for sure!” your mother sobs, as she clutches you to herself. You’re shocked, and you ask her what she means, only for her to hold you tighter.

“You’ve been asleep for three days. You wouldn’t wake up! Nothing we did worked.” Your mother cries, and you feel your heart drop.

Three days? What did that mean for everyone else?

“We’ve heard from Chiyo that all of the patients at the apothecary have also recovered. She’s not sure how, but the plague seems to have disappeared.” Your father states gruffly, as he strokes your hair. “It’s some sort of miracle.”

Yes, and his name is Touya. You think to yourself. Just what was he, to be able to have the power to dispel a sickness as deadly as the decay plague from an entire town?

“We do have a visitor downstairs, if you feel up to meeting with him.” Your mother informs you as she passes you a cup of water. “Some of the priests are visiting homes on Chiyo’s orders, to check in on families and see if anyone is still sick. The head priest from the Endeavor temple is here. I’m sure he’d love to check in on you now that you’re awake.”

You don’t particularly want anyone to see you right now, knowing that you must look awful and you would much rather go find Touya, provided that he was still in town somewhere – but you nod anyways. Your mother tells you to take your time getting ready, as she and your father leave your room, saying that she would tell the priest to wait downstairs.

The process to get ready is painfully slow. Your muscles are weak from a lack of use, but you’re able to wash yourself if you move carefully. You slip on a clean dress, making sure that the mark on your forearm is fully covered, and run a brush through your wet locks before deciding that was enough, and gingerly make your way downstairs.

You slowly make your way into the living room where you see the priest from Endeavor’s temple sitting in one of the armchairs, waiting for you. He’s a large man, dressed in Endeavor’s traditional colours: dark blues and fiery oranges and reds. Your parents leave when you enter to give you some privacy and the priest points to the chair across from him.

“Have a seat girl.” He tells you, and you sit without a word. You fidget uncomfortably as he looks you over carefully, before finally speaking. “Chiyo specifically asked me to come check on you and see how you’re doing. She wanted to thank you for all your help at the beginning of this mess. She wanted to come herself, but she has a few things to take care of at the apothecary. She sends her regards.”

“Oh, it was my honor. I couldn’t leave her there all alone.” You tell him, lifting your arm to wave off his praise without thinking about it. You realize your mistake too late, as the sleeve covering your forearm slowly rolls down to your elbow, revealing the mark etched into your skin.

The priest stops dead the second he glances at your forearm, ad his eyes widen impossibly. He points shakily to the mark etched into your arm. “Where did you get that from girl? Who did that to your arm?”

You hesitate. How can you possibly explain Touya to him? No one aside from you could see him. They’d call you mad if you tried to be honest, and would cast you out from your home. What would you do then?

‘I… I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” You mutter, clutching your arm close to you. “Why, what’s so special about this mark?”

“That is Dabi’s seal.” The priest hisses as he snaps his fingers at you, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. “I haven’t seen a mark like that for decades now, but he is closely connected to my lord Endeavor and I’d recognize it anywhere. It has been rumored that he puts that mark onto people who enter into deals with him. I’m wondering how you ended up with it on your arm.”

Your world crumbles around you at his words, and the illusion that you had unknowingly walked into, shattered.

Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya-

Touya is Dabi.

How could you not have seen it sooner? Looking back on it, the signs were obvious: how he knew so much about Dabi – or rather, himself. How he could seamlessly travel across large areas with very little effort. How he had powers that far surpassed any mage or race you’d heard of. How he never seemed to age… How his body had lasted so long despite the burns that were very clearly getting worse as time passed by-

The thought draws you up short. A hazy memory of Touya standing over your deathbed. A chunk of his flesh missing from the side of his mouth… looking more worn down than you could ever remember seeing him… Suddenly, you have to find him.

And you think you know exactly where he is.

“I-I have to go.” You mutter, shakily rising to your feet. The priest tries to get you to sit back down, but you shove him off. You barely have time to throw a light shawl around your shoulders and put your shoes on, before you’re running out the door in the direction of Dabi’s temple, ignoring the surprised shouts of your parents.

You are reminded how weak your body currently is, as you have to stop and catch your breath several times on the way to the temple, ignoring the looks that a few curious townspeople are giving you, as you eventually make your way to the temple.

This time, you don’t need to reach for the doors, since they seem to open on their own for you. You step through the entrance and they close behind you softly, shutting you away from the sunshine outside. You notice the temple is seemingly empty, but the prayer candles are lit at the base of Dabi’s statue, and the flames are blue.

He’s here, somewhere, you know it, you feel it, but for some reason, he hasn’t shown himself to you yet. It makes you worry and prompts you to call out his name softly.

“I’m here, beloved.”

The familiar rasp of his voice echoes from behind the larger-than-life sculpture. You smile in spite of yourself, and move closer to the sound of his voice, where you can just make out a shadowy figure partly concealed behind the base of the stature.

“Don’t come any closer.” The harsh growl makes you pause.

“Why?” you ask the shadow and you see two familiar blue eyes staring back at you from the gloom.

“You’re not going to like what you see.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second before you shake your head. “I don’t care. You know I don’t care about what you look like.” You swallow before adding on. “I think you and I need to talk about some things… about you.”

“So, you figured it out?” the figure rumbles, and you nod.

“There are some things I need to know. Things that I need to understand. But please, I just want to see you. Come out.” You extend your hand towards the shadow, and hear him sigh deeply, before shuffling closer to you.

A burnt hand takes hold of yours, dwarfing it, and the man—no, the deity, pulls himself into the light provided by the candles. He watches as your face changes from confusion, to shock realization, then to—

He doesn’t think he can do it; he can’t watch as you reject him. He knows that he doesn’t look pretty. He looks like a walking corpse and he knows this. He looks more dead than alive and honestly, he is. He knew he shouldn’t hang around the temple, knowing that you’d eventually come looking for him once you had recovered enough, but he’d wanted to see you one last time before he made the inevitable trip back home to the underworld – even if it meant you seeing him like this—

“Oh, Touya. Did… did you do this to yourself to cure me?” you whisper so softly; he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. He risks glancing back at you, only to see that your face hasn’t twisted in disgust upon his reveal. You’re holding his hand so tightly, like you’re afraid that he’ll crumble to ash if you don’t, and maybe he would, he’s not sure anymore.

Your eyes meet his, and he sees unshed tears in them. There is no repulsion or fear in your eyes like he thought there might be, there is only concern and worry for him, and he feels his once dead heart thunder in his burnt chest.

He wishes he could feel the texture of your soft hands on him again, but the burns are deep and have spread everywhere now. All he can feel is pressure on his hand where you’re holding it in your own. Suddenly, he feels more vulnerable than he has in a long time.

You stare back at him, trying your best not to shed the tears you feel forming – knowing that they won’t help anything. What remained of Touya’s once beautiful, pale skin is gone. His entire body is covered in deep russet scaring. The mess of staples that he hadn’t bothered to remove or replace, were scattered across his body where they had once held the damaged and healthy skin together. Parts of his body – where you assume the skin had been thinnest on him – are burned almost completely down to the bone. The skin by one side of his mouth is almost gone, and the flesh near his wrist on his other hand – the one that he didn’t give you – has been burnt down to where you can see the tendons flexing when he moves.

He's still wearing the white robes from before. He looks like a wraith, a sight that would terrify even the bravest of people, but it stirs no such feelings in you.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, not knowing what else to say. He shakes his head.

“I can’t feel anything anymore.”

“Oh.” You croak, not sure if his answer made you feel any better. It doesn’t, but you try not to let it show on your face.

The deity gently removes his hand from yours and moves several paces back from you, as if he’s trying not to upset you. You feel a lump rise in your throat, but push it down. “Did you do that to yourself to cure me from the plague?” you ask him again and he only nods once.

“You and what’s left of your town. I told you; I make good on my promises. It’s the blowback that gets me. Shigaraki won’t like what I’ve done, but he can’t do anything about it.”

You frown at the mention of the other name. You swear that you’ve heard it before somewhere, but you can’t place where from. Maybe if you remember, you’ll ask him about it later, but right now, you have other things you need him to clarify.

“Can I ask you something, my lord?” Dabi snorts at your formalities, and waves you off.

“Please. None of that from you, Princess.  If I wanted you to call me by my titles, I would’ve made you do it when we first met.”

You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips. You’d been slightly worried that knowing his identity would change the dynamic of your relationship with him. Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case.  

“How come I could see you when no one else could?” you question him. Dabi pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain himself.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He responds after a moment. “We walk amongst mortals all the time; we’re just hidden in plain sight. Some humans are different than others, and are able to see us for what we really are, but most mortals can’t see through our disguises. I choose to be invisible, it’s much easier to do my job that way. Normally, the only time humans can see me is when I come to collect their soul, or when I let them see me purposefully. But you,” he fixes you with his intense stare that you’ve grown used to.

“you were an abnormity. I’ve only ever met one or two other mortals in my time alive that were able to see me, even when I was invisible to everyone else.”

“What did you do to them?” you don’t know what prompts you to ask. Dabi looks away from you.

“I killed them.”

“Why though?” You’re not sure if you want to know his reasoning, but this may be the only time you get to ask him.

“Because no one is supposed to see me – it’s taboo. The only time I’m supposed to be visible to mortals is when I come to take you to the Underworld with me. I can’t let people wander around telling others that Death himself is coming. Do you know how much chaos that would cause on the surface?” Dabi snickers to himself.

“But I could see you, and you didn’t kill me.” You press. Dabi lets a small smile pull at what remains of the muscles in his cheeks.

“No, I didn’t.” he agrees quietly.

“Were you going to?” you ask, remembering how tense he was the first time you met face to face.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?” You’re not mad about the revelation. You’re just curious. What made you so different from the others that came before you?

“I was going to… But something told me not to.” Dabi trails off, seemingly not having the words to describe why he did what he did. “I couldn’t tell you why I hesitated back then… but I’m glad I did.” The hint of a smile ghosts across his face. “You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t predict everything else that came afterwards. But I’m certainly not complaining.”

Your face flushes a brilliant shade of crimson when you realize he’s talking about when you fucked in this temple… his temple.

You can’t bear to bring yourself to meet the smug look in his eyes, so you try to compose yourself best you can, but it’s hard when you feel his oceanic eyes boring into your being.

“I… I just have one final question to ask you.” You stammer out, trying to fight down the colour in your cheeks that you know he can see. The burnt deity nods, signaling for you to continue. You suck in a breath, suddenly nervous for some reason.

“What… what exactly does this mark that you’ve given me mean? To you, that is.” You ask, touching the mark on your arm with your other hand, and you swear that you hear Touya- no, Dabi, bite back a moan.

“It marks you as mine. To humans and other gods alike, it means you are mine and under my protection.” He growls, a possessive edge in his raspy voice.

“Is that all?” you probe softly. Dabi bites back a laugh, and fixes you with a warm expression, blue eyes glowing like a cat in the dimly lit temple.

“What do you think?”

He answers your question with another question, but it’s weighted. The mark definitely has another meaning to it, you’re sure of it, but you want to hear it from him.

“I think it means something more… but I want to be sure. I don’t remember the finer details of our conversation, since I was… well… dying.” You shrug, trying and failing to look nonchalant. You don’t particularly want to be reminded of that time.

Dabi must see it in your expression, because he immediately drops the teasing act and takes a hesitant step towards you, slowly, as if he’s trying not to scare you.

He points at your arm and you lift it up so he can see the symbol burned into your skin. “That is my personal mark. It means that you’re not only under my protection… but it also marks you as my consort.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you can tell that he’s not joking. He’s deadly serious.

“Your consort? You mean, like… like a bride?” you breathe, hardly daring to believe it. Dabi cracks a smile.

“So that’s what you humans are calling it these days. Yes, you are. Unlike some of my kin, I don’t take multiple wives. It’s just you.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, you have to fight yourself to stay upright.

“Oh gods. I’m the bride of a god.” You mutter, swaying slightly in place. “You’re a god. You’re an actual god.”

The burned deity only chuckles. “I can’t believe that you never figured it out. It’s not like I was trying to hide it from you at the end there.”

“I mean… It’s obvious you weren’t human, but I didn’t think you were a God.” You mutter. “You just… you acted so… casual. Not like what I’d expect a God to act-- not that I’m complaining of course!” you add on as you hear Dabi let out an amused snort.

You point up at the statue of Dabi- or rather, him. “Besides, it’s not like I knew what you looked like. You’re always depicted with a hood over your face.” You frowned. “Why is that exactly? You’re not wearing a hood. You’ve never worn one when you’re with me. The only time I ever saw you with one was when you were traveling. Not as you are now. You never let any of your disciples see you?”

“They depict me like that because it’s easier that way.” Dabi explains smoothly. “My face changes depending on what part of my… cycle I’m in. Sometimes I look like how I did when we first met – other times I look like… well, this.” He gestures to himself after a brief pause. It makes your heart ache.

“My kind are supposed to be divine beings. Perfect. I am not. I don’t need to be depicted looking like a walking corpse to the few people who still worship me and visit my temples.”

His gaze flicks back up to you. “You were never supposed to see me like this.”

You know that you shouldn’t psychoanalyze him, but you can’t help but find him endlessly fascinating. He may be a god – a divine, primordial being – but his emotions were so very human.

He may go by many different names, but Dabi was Touya. Your Touya, the man you fell in love with over the years you spent getting to know him. The man who would willingly burn down your village to keep you by his side, only to save it in its time of need, for you.

What he looked like was irrelevant.

“What you look like doesn’t bother me.” You tell him softly, taking a hesitant step closer to him. “It never has. You know that.” Touya’s muscles flinch, like he’s fighting against moving away from you, but he stays rooted to the spot as you slowly advance, until you’re close enough to place a hand on the exposed part of his chest – right above his heart.

“I will love you no matter what form you take, because no matter what: you’re still Touya. You’re still the man I love. God or not, you always will be.”

You lean forward and press your lips to what is left of the flesh around his mouth, and you feel him release a shuddering breath, as his arms come up to wrap themselves tightly around you. You pull away slightly to tuck your head against his chest, returning his embrace, ignoring the burnt smell that always clings to him; and you feel him rest his chin on your head.

You don’t know how long you stay like that for, but eventually Touya reluctantly removes his chin from his spot on your head, and lowers it so he can speak directly into your ear.

“I have to go.”

You try and pull away so you can look him in the eyes, but his arms keep you tightly pressed up against him, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go, you’ll turn to smoke and disappear.

“But… you said that we’re bound to each other now? You promised me that you wouldn’t leave again-“

“I know, but this will be the last time I leave without you, I promise.” He rasps in your ear. “This cycle is at the end. I’m dying.”

You feel your heart clench painfully at his words, and suddenly, you’re taken back to the spring, where he took you to his temple for the first time, and where he unknowingly to you, explained his history. Where he also revealed that gods themselves could die, however difficult it was.

“You’re… you’re dying? How, why? I thought you said it was almost impossible for you to die?”

You feel Touya shake his head and squeeze you again. “It’s different in my case. I die a lot. But the difference is: I come back. It just takes a while.”

“I don’t understand, please Touya, what do you mean?” you feel frantic, and cling to his robes like small child. “I-I can’t lose you!”

“You won’t.” Touya promises you firmly, pulling back to fix you with an unwavering look. “It’s difficult to explain, but I’m more like a force of nature then a ‘traditional’ god. My power is great, but it destroys my body and I ‘die’. However,” his eyes narrow dangerously as he thumbs over the mark on your arm, “I’m a god of the Underworld, and we play by different rules than those that reside upstairs.” He points a finger mockingly up to the roof of the temple.

“I have what you humans call a ‘cycle’. Whenever I ‘die’ I return home, so that I can rest and regenerate my body. Eventually I come back to how I was before I got all of my scaring, and start again. The cycle repeats itself over and over again on an endless loop.” He sends you a crooked grin.

“That’s the other half of my secret: Cremation and Reincarnation tend to go hand in hand. But nobody needs to know that except for you.”

“How many times have you done this?” you breathe, but Touya only shakes his head, shooting you a forced smile.

“More times than I can count. I’m not the oldest God in the pantheon Sweetheart, not by a long shot, but compared to you, I’m ancient.”

“Oh.” You murmur. trying to fight down the blush at the stark differences in your ages, and Touya’s smile becomes more relaxed. You fist your hands at the front of his robe and try your best to return his smile. “So, you’re going to come back… for me?”

“Yes. I’ll eventually return to my original form. But it’s going to take me a while to regenerate.”

“Oh gods, you mean I’m going to be an old woman by the time you come back to get me.” You joke, trying your best to lighten the somber mood, and Touya barks out a laugh.

“No, no. It won’t take that long, I promise… but, that being said, it won’t be anytime soon either. I’m sorry.”

You nod, and try to relax your grip on his robes. You smooth your hands over the soft fabric, and inwardly you hum in delight, as you feel Touya’s abnormally warm hands run down your waist. He brings one hand up to your chin and gently tilts your face up to meet his.

“I will be back for you. Make no mistake about that.”

You feel his other hand glide up to your left forearm, the one that now bares his mark, and press on it possessively. “This binds us together. I’ll make good on my promise, and when I come back for you: I’m going to take you around the world with me, just like I promised you I would. I’ll give you everything.”

You feel your eyes water with his declaration. The sincerity in his eyes tells you that he’s not bluffing. He will be back for you the next time he comes to your humble village, and he will show you the world if you so choose it.

“…How will I know?” You finally manage to ask him quietly.

“How will you know what?”

“How will I know that you’re coming back to get me?”

Touya lets a deep laugh rumble out of his throat, and pushes his face close to your ear so he can whisper directly into it:

“Oh, don’t worry… you’ll just know.”

-----

Three years have passed since that day.

Spring has come again, symbolizing rebirth and renewal, and yet seemingly nothing has changed in your little village. You still work at the apothecary with Chiyo, but now you spend most of your time at Dabi’s temple, keeping it clean, and trying to educate those who visit it, more about the reclusive Cremation God.

More people have started to visit the temple in the three years since you last saw Touya, and you’d like to think that he’d be pleased if he could see it. You’re headed to the temple now to do your daily cleaning, and make sure that everything is orderly, before you head back home for the night.

You smile as you watch a group of small children run past you, as you think back to the day that Touya had left you one final time.

Word had spread like wildfire after you had returned from the temple that day – about how you had made a deal with the elusive Cremation God himself to cure the town of its plague, and how you now bore his mark on your own skin, binding you to him.

You thought that you’d be ostracized, a pariah in your town – but surprisingly, the majority of people seemed to accept it with very little backlash. You suppose that’s the closest to thanks that you’ll get for playing a part in saving your town from destruction, but you’ll take it.

More people do tend to keep their distance from you now, largely in part due to your lover’s fearsome reputation, but you don’t hold it against them.

They’ve started calling you Shaoha – Death Woman. Normally, it’s a derogatory name for a demon or witch, but you know they don’t mean it in that way, and you can’t help but find it fitting given the circumstances and your ties to the Death God himself.

You smile sadly in spite of yourself as you make your way through the forest trail towards Dabi’s temple, leaving the village behind you.

You dress mostly in black or deep blues these days, mourning the fact that you haven’t seen your god in years now. He promised you that he would eventually be back for you once he had healed, before you were old and gray, but you wished that he would have given you a rough estimation of how long that would take, because with each day that passes, you miss him more and more.

Your friends have started families of their own, and while you never had the urge to have children of your own, seeing them happy with their husbands makes you wish that Touya was here with you. Your friends give you sympathetic smiles, and try and comfort you best they can. While you’re grateful that they try, it’s not the same.

It’s strange: you’re surrounded by people who care for you, and yet; you feel more alone now then you ever did before.

You reach Dabi’s temple and push the doors open, finding a few people milling about, paying their respects inside, and the sight pleases you greatly. Ever since it was revealed that he had been behind the disappearance of the plague, the townspeople had started coming to the temple more frequently to pay homage to him. You’re glad that you had cleaned up the temple beforehand, even if it was just for you and him initially.

Several of the people take notice of you, and they quickly file out to allow you to do your daily inspection. After deeming everything to be orderly, you make your way back to your home, just as the sun is starting to disappear behind the tree-line.

You reach your house just as dusk has fallen, and you talk with your parents over dinner for a while before heading to bed. As grateful as you are for their company and their efforts to keep you occupied, the constant ache in your chest never fully dissipates, even when you aren’t alone. 

As you lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take you, you send out a silent goodnight to Touya, hoping that he can hear you, wherever he may be. Just as you have done every night for the last three years.

You hope that wherever he is, he knows how much you miss him.

You don’t remember falling asleep. You open your eyes again and your room is pitch black, letting you know that it’s the dead of night. For a moment, you lay there confused, wondering why you’ve woken up at a seemingly random time, only to realize that you feel different.

You don’t feel physically sick, and the sensation that is coursing through your body like liquid fire in your veins doesn’t feel ominous or wrong, but you suddenly have the intense urge to get up and leave. Like you have to go somewhere urgently.

Your forearm – the one that bears Touya’s mark – feels hot. You trace it absentmindedly, quietly musing that the last time it burned like that was when he gave it to you--

Something clicks in your sleep addled mind, and you slowly sit up and push the covers off of you as you stand. You get dressed in long, dark skirts, and throw a traveling cloak around your shoulders for good measure – knowing deep down that you won’t be coming back.

As you walk through the hallways of your dark home like a ghost, you crack open the door to your parents room to gaze fondly at their sleeping figures. You send them a silent I love you, before closing their door, thanking them for everything. You pad silently through your house until you reach the front door, and pull it open soundlessly, stepping out of it for the final time, before shutting it firmly behind you.

You don’t look back.

You feel like a wraith as you walk through the deserted streets of your town, taking in each and every shop as you pass. The bright, pale moonlight is your only source of light as you walk, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of Dabi’s temple.

The burning in your forearm has lessened considerably and you know this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. You step inside, and slowly make your way to the foot of the hooded god’s statue. You smile slightly and take a seat facing the entrance doors that you didn’t bother closing, allowing moonlight to spill into the dark temple. You sit and you wait. You vow that you’ll wait all night if you have to.

You don’t have to wait for long.

There’s a tell-tale flash of blue outside the temple and a blast of searing heat follows, before everything stills again. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaching the temple makes your heartbeat quicken, and the tall silhouette of a man spills across the floor to where you’re sitting at the altar.

A familiar man dressed in white funeral shrouds enters the temple, and makes his way towards you. You can’t help but smile lovingly as you take him in. Even though he looks incredibly different from the last time you saw him, you’d recognize Touya anywhere.

Gone are the dark scars and staples that wreaked havoc on his skin. The man, the god, that stands before you, has skin as pale as snow, almost blending into the white of his shroud. He looks like he’s bathed in moonlight, with eyes as bright and blue and beautiful as the flames he wields. Upon closer inspection. you still see faint seams in his skin where his burns were previously. A remanent of his past life, and one that you find incredibly endearing.

He is not perfect, but neither are you. You selfishly think that maybe you were made for each other.

He stands before you, seemingly at a loss for words, but his deep turquoise eyes tell you everything you need to know. You, however, have quite a few things you want to say to him. So, you start with the obvious.

“I’ve missed you.” You tell him quietly, and he smiles, cerulean eyes looking sad.

“I know. But I’m here now, so that’s got to count for something right?”

“It means everything.” You confirm breathlessly as he cups your cheek, running his thumb across your soft skin. You shamelessly lean into his touch and watch as he smiles at you.

“Ready to go?”

You nod. “I’ve been ready for a long time. You kept me waiting long enough.”

He laughs, the sound deep and rich in your ears.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. There are so many things I want to show you.” His free hand sneaks down and intertwines with yours. “I make good on my promises, you know.”

You give his hand a squeeze. “I do.”

His heart – the organ in his chest, that he was sure had stopped working after his fall from grace – thunders into irregularity in his chest. Now he’s sure that it beats for you, and you alone.

You, the first person in a long, long time, who’s made him feel something aside from hatred and scorn. The first person to see past the scars, the first one to see him at his worst and still show him unconditional love where others couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

He loves you, and he always will.

He lifts the hand that’s still laced with his, to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, sending you a smile that makes you melt.

“Let’s go home.”

FIN

[mildiva]

So I’ve Decided To Start A Blog About Music And Parties

the idea came to me on a break at work after leaving my phone at home, my mind never clearer… i should be blogging about music. pitchfork is dead, first of all, and third of all it’s something i cannot live without, so why not?

I’m not sure of the “” format “” this will take but right now i’ll just write things as they come?? and part of my love for music is of course parties. they’re still so life giving to me and i still think nothing is better than dancing with gay ppl some of whom are my friends and hearing them dj. some of them are even good! it’s just spaces of eternal and endless flowing love. anyways.

arianka is back!! when i first heard yes, and?, i thought “alright miss grande this is cute!” and it’s grown on me ever since. I’ve been anticipating this album, seeing what direction she would go. i’ve been listening to sweetener every day for the last few weeks mostly because the eating 4 free series on ariana recontextualized her… everything, i guess?? i’d always seen her as just like a Nickelodeon product industry plant which as a certified quirky-not-like-other-girl syndrome haver did not interest me. i was still listening ofc but i wasn’t invested like i was in say lady gaga (and oh how the tables have turned on stefani the pharmacy tech but i digress!) anyways the five part e4f series on her, how she got started with looping covers of imogen heap on youtube, her serious involvement in the production of all her albums, really digging into the pain and scrutiny she’s been through from her time with The TV Producer Who Shall Not Be Named to the donut incident (which i always thought was a slay) to the literal Manchester bombing, her relationships especially with mac miller… not gonna call myself an arianator or w/e but i am a fan now, especially after relistening.

before i get into the album i just want to say this: the music video for we can’t be friends was adorable! it’s very sad that we don’t get music videos anymore because they’re not profitable or useful for marketing. still haven’t seen the yes and video but i’ll get to it. my main point is that give evan peters a stingy little mustache, grow his hair out a little longer, and he could pass for spongebob slater! so many people on twitter are mocking him for his looks/ariana for being with him but gassing up evan. look, ethan is… not a guy i would approach in a bar let’s say, but i’d let him buy me a drink, you know? and if we’re to believe ariana on supernatural and ordinary things, they have something special! tweets will go viral about “every hot girl needs a medium ugly bf” but she’s not allowed to do it? anyways.

if you detect a pivot in tone here, it’s because i’m no longer blogging with a sour cream donut and 3/4 of a dunkin latte with oatmilk and nothing else fueling my body, sun glowing through the clouds and full of optimism.. there’s a harried blogging now while i try and finish this before i hop in the shower to get ready for a hookup tonight. also, i’ve been thinking and listening to eternal sunshine again, reading and digesting lyrics and of course many many stan tweets about it.

first, i’d like to amend something i stated earlier that i refuse to edit: evan peters represents dalton her ex(?) husband, not ethan. (side note: i wonder if she’s thought back to the line in thank u, next where she says she hopes she’ll only get married once. either way the song is still a smash!) i of course forgive my confusion because, for reasons unknown even to myself, i assumed the majority of this album was about the forbidden romance that soon overflowed into her public relationship with spongebob, but it’s not! this is very much a breakup album and nobody is bored in it.

i’m really fascinated by this because ariana took such a turn in disappearing from the public eye after getting together with dalton (which was certainly aided by the pandemic). as a non-stan, i couldn’t tell you what little she HAS been putting out, but if the inimitable joan summers couldn’t find pictures of her for a two year period, it’s safe to say she was lying low. and yes there have been jokes and supposition about “ariana wasn’t allowed to talk about the divorce as per their agreement but she sang about it~~” BUT! if we take that into consideration (and also rely on the journalistic analysis of e4f), most of the negative press and comments came from dalton and his camp. divorce agreements and technicalities of speech aside, i think she chose a much kinder way to speak about their relationship. even she says she wishes she hated him (knowing very little about their relationship, I’m happy to hate him off of the line about him turning the tv up on her crying) but she doesn’t! even with songs like the boy is mine, supernatural, and ordinary things, she really details a story of a relationship disintegrating with both her and dalton finding other people. it’s certainly not the cheating homewrecker story everybody was running with months ago. even if the arianators turn on dalton, he’s still spared any real damage to his reputation because she doesn’t paint him as a monster, scoundrel, narcissist, etc. not to get too “a man can laugh but a woman can only chortle” about it, but i hope people who wrote ariana off listen and reconsider that despite the tabloids and the lyrics, none of us know what went down in that marriage.

okay but what about the music? this will maybe be the shortest part of this blog (oops!), but I’m really fascinated with the narrative around and in the album. the music, I’ll probably need to listen for another week before i have anything worthwhile to say (i need to go full geek on it). keeping it brief, it felt very airy. sonically it sounds like the imaginary room the cover was shot in: spacious and full of sunbeams. something about some of the songs (wait for your love and yes, and?) felt very 80s to me, but i’d need a psychoanalyst to explain that to me. you still hear an rnb influence throughout, but why wouldn’t you? obviously the boy is mine, but true story as well with the bass straight out of “pony” by ginuwine and a drum pattern (pattern, not sample, don’t get it twisted) similarly to “don’t hurt yourself” by beyoncé. my personal favorite of the album was imperfect for you, but i’m a sucker for a pedal tone that creates dissonance, what can i say?

if you’ve actually read this far thank you? im amazed that you read a 20 mile long blog that frankly, is not even well written yet. xoxo 🐇

[wally-franks-stan]

Hiatus…sort of

You may have noticed that I haven’t been posting any of my own work lately. It breaks my heart to say this, but that’s going to be extending for an uncertain and possibly very long time. A lot of things have happened to me in the past few months, and perhaps the most upsetting effect of it is that… I can no longer get any of the joy and comfort I once did from batim. I’ve tried to push through it, but attempting to be more involved than the occasional reblog just leaves me feeling frustrated and sad. So I’m not going to be posting on this blog, or likely creating any content whatsoever for batim, for a while. I don’t know how long. It could be a week, and this post will seem silly. It could be… much longer. I hope very much that it’s not forever, as I do love batim and I know a lot of people enjoy my content relating to it. But trying to do more than reblog something every so often is hurting me more than it’s helping right now.

This said, I’ll still take batim requests on my ko-fi, though be aware they may take a bit. Asks will stay open as well, though if you want to talk to me about something relating to this post please just send a dm, though also understand I won’t be going into specifics about certain things.

If you want to possibly see more of me and my work I’d recommend following my main, since I’m going to be making an effort to post more about my ocs and maybe other fandoms there.

This isn’t going to be my last post here, even if I do leave batim behind for good. But all you’re going to see from this blog for a while is maybe a few reblogs.

EDIT

I’m sort of back but don’t have the energy to make a whole new post. I’m still sad a lot of the time and might randomly disappear

[thedvilsinthedetails]

not making any promises at all but basically I used to sing a lot and I used to really love it but I lost confidence and sort of have been trying to get back into it now more recently (idk if ppl remember that little snippet of me singing mama who bore me that I posted a while back) and like…I might (if I do start covering songs more often and recording it) post some of my singing to my blog

would u guys like…mind that? If I did that

for the record I am not a songwriter nothing I post will be original songs and it is just for fun and also I might not do it but i thought since I wanna get back into singing (I fell out of love with it for ages but I’m kind of re-finding my love for it but my voice is pretty rusty from neglect and also yk I’m not very confident in it as I haven’t done it properly for ages)

also like…I currently don’t have a singing teacher (ik I shld start lessons again but my prev singing teacher was rlly bad, really mean and was the reason I lost all my confidence so I’m not that keen to restart lessons quite yet. Also she gave me like rlly bad advice like she was a bad teacher and some of the stuff she made me do actively harmed my voice so) so constructive criticism is welcome and if anyone can tell me what tf my voice type is that would be appreciated (I’ve literally gotten it all, most ppl call me a mezzo and call it a day but I’ve been told I’m an alto b4 multiple times and one time someone said I was a soprano which I’m defo sure is not true bc I cannot sing high for the life of me so yeah but still)

Not that I’m doing any of this now lol but like at some point I might post singing this is like a warning (not a warning but like for want of a better word haha)

Anyway I better stop procrastinating my hw lol byeeee

(EDIT: I just checked and the snippet of mama who bore me from spring awakening has like completely disappeared lol I didn’t delete it it’s just gone)

[marlynagadjali]

It’s been a while, but I’m back. It was never my intention to disappear from the blogging world the way I did, and I even tried to jump back in a few times, but it was never the right time.

I’ve spent the past month and a half preparing for my reemergence into blogging, so this time it’s for real (promise!)

Before I get any further: let me clarify why I left the blogging world. There is no dramatic excuses or crazy answers, but I was simply burnt out. I’ve been blogging for almost five years now, and in that time I’d always balanced blogging with first college and then my full-time job at Teachable.

Hey there! I’m Marlyna Gadjali, and I’ve been blogging myself since I was 18 years old. I love to write and for just about my entire life I’ve known that I’d find a career for myself writing. There were a few misguided years (I call them my “trying-to-be-practical” years) where I went to college first trying to become a medtech and then a speech-language pathologist, but ultimately a career in writing was always in the back of my mind.

I’m currently working and it’s been quite the emotional journey. It seems like every week I go through a cycle of feeling inspired and writing like mad, feeling proud and accomplished, hating everything I wrote, editing like crazy, repeat.

Back to college, though: The thing is, I never actually finished.

I feel like the decision to drop out of college has defined me way more than I’d ever expected, and more than I really want it too. It’s always a conversation piece when I run into old friends I haven’t seen for a while, and it’s something the adults in my life always want to ask me about.

Really, I wish I could say the decision to drop out of college was because I wanted to chase my dreams or to travel around the world. Instead, it was a result of crippling depression. My struggles with mental health have become a part of my story, and something I love to be open about because getting past that has been greater than any other accomplishment in my life.

I never actually intended to drop out of college, either. Instead, I was hoping to take a semester off to work on getting better but things didn’t quite work out that way.

As it turns out, shortly after taking time off school, I’d wind up in New York City interning for a tech hospital . I tried New York on for size for six months, but it just wasn’t a fit. The Quad Cities was calling me home, so home I went.

I continued to work for Teachable remotely (and two years later, I still do!) and I’m still trying to figure out what my future is going to look like.

But that’s who I am. I’ve been eager to reintroduce myself to all of you, and to reconnect with those of you I’ve lost touch.

[intoafandom]

Ok bruinsblr, it’s been a few weeks and i think im finally ready to say some stuff.....

Firstly, if it wasn’t ABUNDANTLY CLEAR, i was in denial, probably more than ive ever been in my entire life. I’m only NOW starting to feel it as I type this out (which i KNEW would happen and its why i put off making this post).

It doesn’t feel real. It feels like someone took the script and ripped it into a thousand pieces. It feels like it wasn’t supposed to happen that way at all and that there was something evil force flipping the scales. It feels like everything just suddenly disappeared, like all of the sudden everything just freaking stopped and everyone just disappeared. I feel like I haven’t seen the team in YEARS even though its only been a couple weeks. Everything just feels gone.

Yall know ive been posting about oneus (and onewe) waaaay more often lately (and its not just because they came back with new music and ravns been active). Again, ive been in denial and oneus (and onewe) are my helpful distraction. Cuz otherwise ik i would’ve been a total complete mess. 2019 still feels worse to me because, again, I haven’t let myself feel all the emotions tied to the elimination. I haven’t thought about bergy or krech, I haven’t thought about the free agents, or anything else relating to it because if i do ik I’ll probably break aaaand im not ready to go down that road yet.

I’m happy about the regular season, probably more than I’ll ever be about another season ever again. Everything that happened was so surreal. Linus’ goaie goal, the bench clearing for Bergy’s 1000th point (and the fact that i got to go to the game where they honored him). The winter classic at fenway and JD killing it in LITERALLY every way possible. We got pooh bear, we got meth bear, we got everything. There were so many milestones, so many players who had the best seasons of their career.

I kinda feel like im in limbo. Like I don’t really know what to do with myself. Cuz i literally haven’t watched ANY other playoff games and it all just feels so weird. And i guess that’s the word that sums everything up for me. Weird.

I think when the season started, we all could feel that this was the last dance. And now that its over, I don’t know how to feel or what to do. I don’t even know how to post about the bruins rn. Cuz everything just feels so freaking weird and disconnected. I think im just detached from reality. I’m in my own little space where none of the painful emotions have fully hit me yet.

And now i feel like i don’t really know what to do with myself. Because since 2018 this has been a hockey blog (with a few other things randomly thrown in). The past 5 years have been hockey hockey hockey, and ive been posting about the same people for so freaking long.

And like...I don’t really know what to do now because im pretty 100% sure that some of those core people are going to be gone. Dynamics are going to change, and im someone who HATES change.

Honestly, at the beginning of the season/the end of last season, I was almost completely checked out of bruinsblr. That was the height of all the drama (iykyk) and the team got crushed in the playoffs + all the sh!t canes fans did to pasta. I was sick of lb’ing because i just wanted to watch the games in peace without having to see all the hate. I was sick of missing cute cellys just so i could type “BERGY YOU KING” before anyone else. I was exhausted.

But then this season came along and it was like all the joy from 2018-19 (my first year as a hockey fan) all came back. I was lb’ing the way i used to, without focusing on notes or followers. I was just enjoying it. Enjoying the games, enjoying the moments in real time. I didn’t make as many edits, I didn’t force myself to make them when I wasn’t motivated.

I enjoyed the season the way i was supposed to. As a fan rather than...whatever the fvck this account is. And it was amazing.

All this to say, idk what is coming. Idk what this off-season is gunna be like and idk what next season is gunna be like. Will I still lb? Maybe. Will I still edit the bruins? Maybe. Will I still post about the bruins? Maybe. Probably.

But am I going to obsess over the wags anymore? No. Am I going to screenshot things from insta and post them here with the caption “omg player xyz is so funny/cute for this!” No. That’s stuff I feel I’ve grown out of. Don’t get me wrong, i still love jd and cmac and bambi carlo and all the others, but i dont feel like posting about their personal lives anymore, especially when yall can just go to their instas and see it RIGHT THERE.

Here’s what I know though. I still love the bruins. I love their friendships and the team dynamics. I still love hockey, i still love sports. And this is still a fan account (duh its literally called IntoAFandom). I’m still going to post/talk/rant about it all. I’m still going to be a reblog queen and im still going to follow the tags like ive always done.

But I’m also telling you that I’m going to he posting a lot of oneus and onewe now. I feel like im moving into a new stage and they’re a part of it. So if you dont like it, this is your out. I wont get offended, kpop isn’t for everyone (hell, i used to ACTIVELY avoid it the entire time i was in high school and for a couple years after I graduated too).

Basically, I’m going to do what makes me happy now, just as I started doing this season. I’m going to do whatever I’m in the mood to do and I’m not going to force myself to do anything. Im going to watch the bruins and im going to continue to be a fan of them. I still love them and i still love the team. But im also going to love oneus and onewe and im going to stop holding myself back.

Yall know i loved marvel for the last 5 years too, but i think a lot of you probably know that I haven’t been into it lately, but that’s a post for a different time lol.

All this to say im growing. Im exploring new things, finding new loves. And its fun. Im learning korean (why am I lowkey good lol), I’m writing a book, i finally got over my fear of talking to people (yay me).

I feel like im starting to look at the world in a new way, a way I haven’t looked at it in a long time. And it’s making me happy, honestly.

This post took a weird (theres that word again) turn, so I apologize, but i feel like this is all connected somehow. I don’t know what this account is going to look like in a few months, but I guess thats the fun of it all.

Thanks for reading, sorry for the typos (ik there’s gunna be some but I’m too lazy to proof read this oop).

Thank you to all the friends ive made on bruinsblr (Liv and Sarah, thank you❤️). This isn’t a goodbye, because lets be real lol. But I guess its a new beginning? Idk. But yeah.

[starcrossedyanderes]

Ghost Files: The Clementine Estate

Note from Star: Let it be known that this is proof of my blog still being active. I actually started this post about a year ago when Buzzfeed Unsolved ended. But we’re way past that so I decided to make it Ghost Files and a Halloween special. I tried really hard to nail the dialogue and I haven’t quite written this way before so bare with me. I also originally wrote this with Buzzfeed unsolved in mind and just made it Ghost files post edit. So sorry if stuff doesn’t sound quite right. Also this is kind of long so you have been warned.

“Welcome to Ghost Files, where we take your evidence, and our tools, into the field to prove the supernatural. My partner, a skeptic. Myself, a believer. Both of us truthseekers. Today we are investigating the Clementine estate where supposed ghosts reside.

“Ooh, I like that name. Nice and fruity.

“Shut up.

Now this case is an interesting one for many reasons, but most notably for the televised evidence provided.”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t there like that home renovation show about it? It wasn’t something called “a spooky house renovation” or something?”

“Precisely. While renovating the home many cases of ghost activity were recorded.”

“Didn’t the couple who host that show like immediately divorce?”

“Yes, but I don’t think that’s ghost related. Now here is where the story gets more interesting.

There was originally 2 ghosts reported but then one of them seemingly disappeared for over a century. But shortly after the show concluded this ghost seemingly reappeared.”

“That sounds kinda bogus to me. Just like, ‘yeah I’m gonna take a break for a while. Just tired of haunting. Might just go on a vacay to wherever ghosts go.”

“Okay, and cut.”

Shane takes a quick sig of water as Ryan stands up to stretch. After a minute of hearing popping from Ryan he trods over to grab a bag.

“Now the fun part. Taking a plane to Mississippi.”

~|~

“As all of our investigation goes we will work our way up the house floor by floor and then do our independent investigations. But today we’re starting off outside since this is a supposed haunted area.”

They stood in front of a large manor’s entrance. A massive pair of mahogany doors looked behind them.

“Now before we start the investigation, some information must be provided. The story begins in 1800’s Mississippi with the Clementine family. The Clementines are a wealthy family who own various textile companies along with other corporations. Another thing of note is that the South is currently being teared apart by slavery, especially in Mississippi. The Clementines happened to be abolitionists and seemed to have quite a few enemies.”

“Hmm, I’m smelling murder.”

“We’ll get to that later.”

“Now the Clementine household unfortunately came down with Tuberculosis which killed all but one of the members. This happened to shockingly be Emmett, the immunodeficient, albino heir.”

“Well that sucks.”

“After his parents death Emmett continued in his parents path to continue abolotionism and decided to keep his parents wish about marrying.

You see, Emmett had a little sweetheart he was courting.”

“Ooh, a little something on the side.”

“No, actually. He was a one woman fella as it turns out.

Emmet and his darling made plans to be wed and seemed to be genuinely in love until tragedy struck.

The two met up on the eve of their wedding, where they were killed.

Apparently Emmett had upset some pro-slavery Southerns who decided it best to kill him. The bodies were found on top of each other, both stabbed in the heart. Emmet’s face was contorted into shock, showing he was the one who spotted the killer.”

“Jeez! Kill them literally before they were married. Couldn’t wait another day?”

“I don’t know. But as the houses switched owners the reports started coming in.”

“Now we are standing in the front grounds on the Clementine estate and I have to say, it is rather gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah, these are some sweet digs. Despite the whole ‘haunting’ thing they really managed to keep up good landscaping.”

“In front of us is the front entrance that is covered by a large balcony. It is on this balcolny many have reported seeing a ghostly female in a wedding dress.”

They looked on silently for a small time.

“Whelp, I don’t see anything.”

“You have to admit, this is like a prime looking down at your people balcony. Like, uh, what was that musical called?”

“Evita?”

“Yes! They didn’t have slaves but I’m sure they like, waved down at their servants or something.”

They stepped through the entrance as the front doors shut behind them.

“Here we have a foyer sort of room. Very Vanderbilt-esque. Like I can totally see a big Christmas tree here.”

Shane stepped in further and pointed at the large portrait that sat between the two grand staricases.

“Ooh, we got the big man right here! And his little sweetheart, too.”

On the painting sat a relatively young adult male with somewhat long white hair. But most noticeably was his striking blue eyes. Sitting next to him was a somewhat plump woman with nice (h/c) and (e/c) eyes. She wore a pink dress that some would now call a ‘lolita’ style.

“Aw, she’s kinda cute.”

“It is with this sweetheart of his that the story gets weird.”

“A lot of evidence of this haunting is rather recent with the show “Clementine Renovation” being filmed. The show followed a team restoring the house that would be given away. But the cameras picked up various hauntings and tragedy sadly struck.”

“What sort of ‘evidence’ are we talking here? Random voice or like an actual figure.”

“Well they caught footage of a chandelier randomly falling on someone, items floating in the air, and people suddenly acting differntly, as if possessed.”

“Hold up, let’s talk about this whole chandelier falling on a person.”

“While filming a cameraman had a chandelier, that was perfectly secure, spontaneously fall on him. It ended up killing him but other tragedies occured as well.”

They both looked up to the ceiling, where a sparkling chandelier hangs down. They both silently walk out from under it.

“Well Ryan, I think this is as good as a place as any.”

Ryan heaved a sigh before pressing a button.

“Here we have the ovilus. A device that takes various changes in temperature and other factors. Then converts them into words from the English dictionary.”

“Hey ghosts, I’m Shane and this is my friend Ryan. Can I ask who we’re talking to?”

A word appeared on the monitor.

“Orange.”

Both of the men stepped back in shock.

“Orange? Maybe they’re trying to say Clementine?

Is this the ghost of the man who died from a chandelier?”

More words appeared.

“No. Scum.”

A laugh was heard from Shane.

“Are you saying we’re scum? Have to say I don’t appreciated being called that.”

No more responses came in.

“Look if you have a problem with us go ahead and say something. What? Cat got your tounge.”

No response. 

“Alright Shane, let’s put this up.”

~|~

The two men currently stood in a large hallway, with their goofy looking gear on.

“Alright, no we are in one of the hallways where more activity has been reported. When the television series was being recorded there were multiple reports of hearing piano music.”

Ryan placed a teddy bear looking thing down.

“Well, that could be explained. Multiple people were in the house at the time. Maybe someone was playing music. I know I like to work with music on. Or maybe someone wanted to test out the piano.” “That is a fair point, but I think we should check it out anyway.”

The merely stood in silence, with an occasional interruption by a pre-recorded voice coming from the plushie.

“Well, I certainly don’t hear anything.”

“Yeah, let’s try the REM Pod. The REM Pod is a device that can detect presences and changes in temperature. The more extreme, the louder the noise. There are also lights that can be turned on.

We also have our Boo Buddy friend over there. It will just say pre-recorded things that hopefully will get a response from some entity. We are hoping for some success since Emmett’s fiancé supposedly liked cutsie things.

A few minutes of non-activity lasted before they walked into an adjoining room.

~|~

“Here we are in the ballroom, the most active room. It is here we reach the most interesting part of the story.” “There’s more?” “Unfortuanelty there is one more tragedy to tell. As mentioned before this house was renovated to give away in a sweepstake. This just happened to go to an intern on the show, (Y/n) (L/n). And yes, that is not a mistake. She shares the same name as Emmett Clementine’s late fiance. To make matters freakier they look eerily similar. It was in this ballroom that (Y/n) was found dead, stabbed in the heart with a piece of glass. Her body was found adorned in a wedding dress.”

“Dang. Now I have to admit Ryan, of all the stories you’ve told this is by far the creepiest and weirdest to date.”

“I would also nice like to discuss why we are visiting in the daytime. Our investigations tend to be held at night but this house is reportedly more active during the day.”

“Gotta admit, it’s very beautiful. There’s even the expansive gardens to explore later.”

“Well, this feels like a good room to bring out the SLS camera. The SLS can detect heat signatures.”

They pulled out a camera monitor and looked shocked at what they saw.

On the monitor showed 2 silhouettes of what looked like 2 people, dancing.

“Woah, okay that’s new. Hey ghosts? Were one of you who we talked to earlier.”

The figures merely ignored them.

“Hey ghouls! My friend asked you a question. You know I bet it is one of them since they still seem rude. Ignoring us and all.”

“Are you two the Clementine couple?”

Still no response.

“Shane, do your whole riling up thing.”

“Hey Emmett, why don’t you respond to us? Or are you two chicken? You know what, if you don’t do something, I’m taking your girl. Yeah, that’s right. She’s mine now. Whatchu gonna do about it, huh?”

Apparently Emmett was going to do something about it.

In front of them slowly appeared 2 nearly transparent forms. One of a male with white hair and blue eyes, clutching onto a woman with h/c and e/c. 

“Holy crap I think I just peed myself-”

The male wore more old timey clothes while the female merely wore some jeans and  a shirt.

“LEAVE.”

The lightbulbs in the room proceeded to flicker, with some completely exploding. The investigators quickly headed the ghost’s warning as they went running. It was as the doors slammed shut did Emmett stop giving chase.

“Emmett, you just had to scare them off, didn’t you? I happen to enjoy company, you know.” 

The male quickly approached the female and practically clung onto her.

“I-I know pumpkin, it’s just, that man. He was threating to take you from me. You know I can’t have that. We don’t need more people constantly pestering us like that.” “Emmett, you literally killed me. I don’t think there is a way to take me away from you.”

As the two investigators entered the van’s safety Shane finally turned to Ryan.

“I think ghost might be real.”

[delphinidin4]

I just had... the weirdest tumblr experience.

I have a pinned post on one of my sideblogs and I wanted to edit it. So I opened the side blog...

The pinned post was not there.

When I scrolled down the dash, it was not in its chronological place on the dash, either.

I opened the archive, and I could see it in the archive, but when I clicked on the link, it would not show me the post.

Panicking, I contacted support. We went round and round a bit.

Finally, I had an idea. I was using Chrome, and I was logged into Tumblr. But I wasn’t logged into tumblr on Firefox, so I opened the blog in Firefox.

And there was the post.

Following support’s advice, I logged in via firefox, unpinned the post, then cleared the browsing cache on Chrome. When I opened it again on Chrome, the post was exactly where it was supposed to be chronologically on the dash.

Everything was fine, I thanked support, everything was great.

I pinned the post again.

It disappeared again.

At least this time I knew what to do, and went to Firefox and unpinned it, and it showed back up again on Chrome.

I have pinned posts on only two other blogs of mine, and they’re not posts I normally need to access. So I guess for now I’m just not going to pin posts I want immediate access to, because if I do pin them, I can’t access them via Chrome, my default browser.

*shakes head and mouths ‘what the fuck??’*

In other news, I haven’t been able to log into Bored Panda for two or three weeks because it went nuts and wouldn’t accept my passwords. Clearing the cache appears to have fixed this problem?

EDIT: We have figured out what the problem was.

It’s the Tumblr Savior Chrome extension. As soon as I disabled it and did a hard refresh, the pinned posts showed back up again. Luckily, tumblr savior is one extension I don’t mind leaving off, since I’ve fully switched to using tumblr’s native filtering options!

[chaseadrian]

I am not making blogs to interact with you. I made one blog after deleting my original and then deleted that one as well.  I have a blank lurker blog so that I can read fics and that is all.  I don’t talk to anyone, I don’t send messages, I don’t reblog or like anything, I don’t use an active blog anymore.

The only reason I am messaging now is to ask that you please stop saying negative things about me to people and to ask if you would be willing to delete any asks that were tagged with my name and delete the edits that were shared to the net blog. All I want us to quietly disappear.

I Have no intention of messaging again after this I’m only messaging to ask that those things be deleted. I just want to be left alone and forgotten. I don’t want to interact with you or anyone else, I don’t wanna be an active part of any fandom after this experience. I hope that you won’t publish this and that you might be willing to delete those things. Thank you.



i’m seriously gonna need you to stop victimizing yourself and playing dumb. i never said a single negative thing about you, the post that caused you to send this message was intended as exactly that. because i knew you were still disrespecting the very clear boundaries i set by blocking you.

you deleting your blog was a choice you made. you leaving fandom was a choice you made. and you remade three blogs since i blocked your original. i saw you in my notifs reblogging fic and edits, i’m not stupid. when i blocked those two, you remade again to message me specifically and when i blocked that blog, you deleted it.

you’re acting like i’m this big bully who scared you away from fandom when for months i was patient with you and tip toed around your feelings. i am not the fucking overlord of any fandom, and yet you put me on this pedestal and think because i blocked you, then you might as well abandon your blog & friends you made? how is any of that my responsibility? and how is it fair of you to assume i’m talking negatively about you? before i blocked you, you had nothing but positive things to say about me and then all of a sudden that switches on a dime and you “have no clue” what you did or why i blocked you. if you truly believed that, you wouldn’t worry about anything i have to say bc it would just be lies, right? but that’s not the case, and on top of that, i haven’t said anything outside of “someone is disrespecting my boundaries, i have to turn off anon.”

i’ll delete everything you asked, but im publishing this message because the audacity for you to come from a position of “i just want to quietly exist and be left alone :(“ after blatantly disrespecting my boundaries from the moment i blocked you. i also want a quiet fandom experience, i also want to be left alone. i blocked you FOR that peace. the fact that vee ( @nobodys-baby-now ) even had to step in bc i was literally paranoid and anxious bc you just wouldn’t leave me alone is ridiculous. and you STILL didn’t get it. i’m done. you’re almost a decade older than me and i need you to act like it. i hope you find some healing soon.

[supersapphical]

hi :) 🍓

RAIN!!!!

every time i see you posting again, it's like running into an old friend at the grocery store. <333 i’m SO happy for you that you’ve built a life outside of spnblr for yourself that you’re enjoying and i LOVE how you just appear randomly to check in on what we’re up to. it’s like the sweetest little treat to see you around a bit before you disappear to go enjoy life again. <333

you’re such an amazingly creative person. between your music, your poetry, your fics, your photo edits, your video edits! i literally rec’d one of your fics to someone just the other day because i haven’t stop thinking about it since you wrote it last september. i switched out my icon to be cassiejess themed a few weeks ago because that’s the fic i’m working on right now but when i go back to working on my amarabillie fic, i plan on switching back to the amarabillie icon you made. <333 i still see icons and banners you made on other people’s blogs all the time. and your spn poetry project was so impactful! it really encouraged so many people to step out of their comfort zone and try writing fandom poetry. <333

there’s just something very very special about the things you created here while you were super active. i think those things will continue to be shared around in the fandom for years to come. and i just know all the projects you’re working on now outside of fandom are just as special and i hope you have people you share them with that cherish them the way people on spnblr cherish your fandom works. <333

Send me a strawberry emoji and I’ll give you a compliment (open to anyone, not just mutuals!) <3

[blochnessm0nstr]

Way too much info about me!! (Warning, word vomit)

My stats:

Height: 5’7

Sw: 184 lbs

Cw: 156 lbs

Lw: 151 lbs

Gw: 96 lbs

I’ve been bulimic since March but last night i binged and could barely purge, scared me right back into ana. I was ana for about a year before that though.

It’s currently 8 AM and i haven’t slept, but i don’t wanna sleep through christmas eve so i’m too scared to go to sleep now, oh well I’ll pull another all nighter

Kind of? addicted to getting high on benadryl which is really stupid but yknow. Trying to stop because last time i dosed i had 35 (875mg) and barely hallucinated at all and if i dose again i’ll probably want at least a gram which scares me, don’t want seizures. Was alcoholic when i was 14 but passed out behind a closed down bush’s chicken (blood alcohol level was 0.27) and had to go to the hospital, haven’t really drank since. Been hospitalized once for benadryl as well, took 35 before my tolerance was very high (like it is now) and was speaking gibberish and my mom found me :/ went to the psych ward after that one.

Been to 3 psych wards in the span of 2 months for various reasons, was diagnosed w a lot but i don’t trust them because they diagnosed me w BPD even though i’m only 15? Off all my meds too because fuck em.

Dad recently shot up my house then killed himself so that’s fun. Happened 8? days ago i think. He had a little psychotic break. He had pretty bad bipolar disorder so honestly he wasn’t really acting out of character.

Obsessed w butterflies and ready to make it my whole personality. The color purple too.

This is mostly for my own well being because i really need somewhere to vent/blog and why not make it public?

I love piercings sm, and will be getting more hopefully in the near future. I currently have 4 lobes, both daiths, 2 helixes, 1 nostril, smiley, frowny, tongue web, and a vertical labret. I really want snake bites, medusa, other nostril, and dimples, as well as a shit ton more on my ears. Have to wait until after my dad’s funeral though, his family is very conservative and my mom doesn’t want to be judged.

I really like working out and have a bit of muscle, but i wanna be way more toned.

Still unhealthily obsessed w my ex who dumped me right after i got out of the psych ward the first time (and ditched me to drink alone, which is when i almost died) he was good to me before the end, I think he’s in jail now though, not positive. He just kinda disappeared.

Mom keeps trying to send me to a ed clinic, rehab, or RTC so if i disappear i probably didn’t die.

Came from twitter but it’s shit now so i’m here, i like it so far.

I used to self harm a lot, like a lot. Used to have a shtwt account but we don’t do that anymore, it made me feel special because i could cut to beans 😬. I won’t post any gore on here. If i ever post my body (unlikely for a long while) be warned there will be scars.

edit: I’m also depressed asf if u couldn’t tell 😭 barely hanging on by a thread. I need to clean so bad i’m considering overdosing on sudafed to give me the energy.

I live w just my mom, my brothers in college, and my dads dead (obvi) probs gonna have to move now that we only have one income.

I doubt anyone read this but that’s my whole life basically. I’m really sweet but get so scared ppl r judging me when they interact so i may not answer 😭

[xexiar]

So… I am going to try to write more, since I haven’t done so in a very long time. Like people on facebook thought I disappeared with how quiet I was.

Which means there’s going to seem like this blog has taken a change or something. But that’s not the case. My fanfics will return but I need focus on what I always done. Which is I write whatever on my mind, which is just about anything and no edits.

In the short term it might come off as odd to those who don’t know this about me. But I rather write something than keep quiet until I post updates. That doesn’t work for everyone, especially me. I need to be active but not bored.

I get bored very easily and I pushed me adhd and autism to the max with not only writing Keep Watching but also editing it. Along with the other small project. So I need to light that fire up again by being myself to be to give quality work that I feel good about.

So don’t freak out when I randomly talk shit

[mayday-and-daydreams]

( Day One )

{ Written on October 21, 2023 - 3:46 AM }

[ Nemo’s Headphones: Maggot - Dazey and The Scouts ]

My Zayde told me that art is sharing parts of you with the world.

Art is ripping open your chest and baring your soul for all to see.

If that’s the case, maybe I’m not a real artist.

I want to share my soul on my own terms.

These are my own terms.

-

I guess I should start with an explanation.

This is basically a glorified diary, posted for all the world to see.

Edited by me, Nemo.

Why am I bothering to do this, you ask?

I don’t know.

I could spend hours pondering the reason I’m bothering with this, but…I’m just tired.

I want to leave something behind.

I want to make a mark on the world, no matter how small.

What’s the point of even trying to explain?

I feel too much. I feel too deep.

Things got bad and then they didn’t get better.

I’m still waiting for the grass to get greener, but no matter how many other sides I cross over to, it seems to be the same shade of gray.

Maybe that’s just me.

Or maybe I’m not alone.

Maybe there is someone out there who feels just like I do, someone who feels lost and lonely and wishes that they could find someone who understands.

So this is me, telling you out there, I see you.

And you are not alone.

I don’t quite know what I’m going to post here.

Maybe it’ll be daily journals, maybe poems.

Maybe just a word or a photo.

Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Maybe I just want to have something to do, have a reason to open my eyes in the morning.

I really just want to share what I’ve created.

And I am so so sorry that anyone else has to see it.

So this is Day 1 of my blog.

And this is how I feel.

-

When I was a kid, I started a diary.

I promised my dad when he bought it for me that I’d use it every single day.

I used it for about a week.

I think I still have it somewhere in my room, hidden away.

It feels like maybe the next time I open it there will be more words, more secrets to uncover that will help me understand myself.

But every time I open it it’s just the same.

Maybe next time, then.

When I was…around thirteen, I started a diary again.

And I kept it, writing almost every single day.

But my parents found it and read some of it, and I immediately knew that I needed to keep it hidden. My deepest innermost thoughts were not for others to see, not for anyone but me, at least until I was ready to share them.

And having them in a spiral notebook with a ribbon on the front was way too obvious.

I hope I haven’t thrown that diary away.

I used to like flipping through it and rereading the words, wishing I could connect with someone who has long since disappeared.

When I was fourteen or so, I started a journal. This time, I kept it in my notes app.

It was hidden away from any prying eyes, and I wrote things that even now I don’t quite understand.

I guess some feelings are just lost to time.

I don’t remember when I stopped writing that journal, but I used to write every day.

I do, however, remember collecting all of those notes in one place, in one massive folder in order of oldest to most recent, in hopes that maybe one day I could publish it.

Maybe then someone would read it and understand.

Maybe then.

But I’m missing pieces, and I wonder if I will ever be ready.

Maybe if you want to make art you have to bare your soul.

Maybe this isn’t art.

Whatever it is, I want people to see it this time.

Because I want someone to know I was here.

And if you feel the same as me, I want you to know that you are not alone.

And maybe that is as bare as my soul is gonna get.

[miscelunaaa]

spin cycle 3 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: drabble series, slow burn, idiots to lovers, fluff, lil bit of angst, eventual smut

summary: This random guy has started doing laundry at your favorite laundromat each week (at the same time as you, no less!) and to be honest, it’s going to be a problem. You’re just not sure how yet.

rating: 18+ for eventual smut

word count: 499 ☠️

warnings: Reader is a mess. Jungkook is swoon-worthy. Lightly invasive acts of domesticity I guess but like … I don’t think it’s weird? Husbeard did. Reader did too, but only for a moment. (I've already gotten an ask about this lmao so it's going in the warnings). Also, swearing. Referral to menstrual periods as “bloodbaths” but no actual depiction of blood.

notes: Hello! idk if any of y’all have been paying attention to the absolute bullshit mess with tumblr’s tagging issues but WHEW it’s looking gnarly out here as a writer trying to find readers. I haven’t really come down on a side as to what to do yet. I thought I was going hate posting on tumblr but plot twist, I kind of like it a lot. For now, at least for this series, I’m going to continue to cross post. However, I strongly encourage the readers of any and all fanfics get ao3 accounts so that you can start reading there. A lot of writers are just posting their front matter (warnings, etc) here and then linking to their work. This is probably how I’ll move forward with other projects. Stay tuned.

There are a lot of perks to an ao3 account, most notable among them that you can subscribe to works and writers and get emails for when chapters or works are posted. Ao3 is also pretty dedicated to protecting the rights of its writers and maintaining a safe environment (edit: insofar as it doesn’t tolerate writer harassment, though it lacks a block feature). It’s where I started reading. You should absolutely get on with making an account if you haven’t already. Should this blog for whatever reason disappear off the face of the internet, my work will still be found on ao3 and I will still be found in various places through my carrd.

Hopefully this is all just a whole lot of worry for nothing but, in this day and age, it’s always hard to tell. Stay safe and warm!

series masterlist | read on ao3

previous | next

Even with the two inches of sudden snow turning to slush beneath your feet, you still trudge to the laundromat to do your laundry. This week, it’s usual your dark load, mostly jeans, leggings, socks, and cotton underwear.

Truth be told, you’re on your last pair of comfy undies. And your last pair of leggings. You’re wearing both as you walk thought the door. Your period is starting soon and you have to ready the troops for the bloody battle to come.

Somehow, your laundry friend has already beat you to the laundromat. He’s got his stylus in hand, and he’s drawing something on his tablet as usual. He looks up when he hears the door open, and he gives you that same little smile he has been giving you, before letting his face fall back to his tablet screen. The stick of a sucker is poking out from between his lips.

You’ve continued to smile back over the past few weeks, still compelled by his huge brown eyes and handsome, shy smile to be cordial in return. You can’t help it. The smiles have become routine. You can’t just stop now.

As you load your chosen machine with your clothes, you make the mistake of checking your watch for the time. 2:37 am. That explains why he beat you here. You’re late.

Your whole week has been like this. You woke up late on Monday, and it’s been like you’re a half an hour behind every day since. Late to things you’ve never been late to. Meetings, classes, your bedtimes, and now your regular laundry time.

You catch yourself sighing as you sit back down, and inwardly swear. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that he looks up. With dismay, you note that his gaze doesn’t linger.

You open up your laptop and rub your eyes before jumping back into you weekly essay.

Suddenly, you open your eyes, and blinking, realize that you’re still in the fluorescent light of the laundromat. Your head was on your keyboard, if the infinite stream of “ffffffff” in your document is to be believed. Fuck, what time is it??

You groan when you see that it’s 5:14 am. You’ve just lost two and a half hours, so now you’re going to be three hours late for everything. “fffffffff” is right. You haven’t even finished your laundry.

As you rub the sleep from your eyes, however, you see that you’ve got a pile of neatly folded clothing next to you at the table. Yours, actually, each garment folded and stacked atop the last with care. To your vague horror, even your underwear is folded, discretely placed between pairs of matched socks.

On top of the stack is a piece of candy. A strawberry Chupa Chup. On the wrapper, there’s a little smiley face drawn in permanent marker.

You look around the laundromat, but your heart sinks to see that it’s empty. Your laundry friend is no where to be seen.

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Posted: 1.3.2022. Updated: 4.2.2022 (front matter clean up.)