#Still don’t know how the shatter event would even happen

[fireyartccoon]

“Fox or not, you’re still my little buddy, Tails, and I can ensure you nothing will ever change that’’

This thing:

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Breakfast Time

My son’s stuck in a time loop again.

He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.

I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.

The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.

The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”

“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:

How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?

As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.

Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.

What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?

They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.

Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.

Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?

[chrollohearttags]

THEY DON’T KNOW | e. jaeger

synopsis: your life and relationship in the spotlight seemed nothing short of perfect..that was until everyone else convinced you otherwise.

content + themes: slight angst, engagement/proposal, musician eren x influencer reader ofc, fluff, drama, mentions of infidelity, kissing, brief mentions of suggestive things, nothing heavy, just a sweet story for my favorite ship

word count: 3.2K

📝: this is for my sweet @honeybleed ‘s 90-00’s R&B collab event! (I’m a little late to the party, I’m so sorry about that! 😭) Congratulations to you again on 600, my love. You deserve every bit and so much more!

SONG 🎧: They Don’t Know • Jon B.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•

noise…it all seemed so much louder than usual nowadays. Everything sounded so much more amplified now matter how hard you fought to drown it out. The music thudding from the speakers on stages that you danced on, the rain droplets splattering against your window pane and lately…the opinions of every envious naysayer and supposed friend alike.

Telling you that your relationship was a moot point. A mere sham and that in due time, it’d come crumbling to its core. Regardless how strong the foundation was between the two of you, outside forces could still cause it to shatter at any moment. But that was only if you allowed it. You couldn’t escape it either…every other scroll and headline on every media outlet was a photo of you two..some flashy shot of you two kissing and holding hands. Appearing happily in love, only to be followed by droves of comments full of negative and downright nasty things about you guys. Saying that it would never work and you were only a temporary thing who ‘just so happened to make it further than the rest..’ it certainly wasn’t a vote of confidence considering you were about to spend the rest of your life together. For the better part of three years, you had come to know and love the renowned artist, EJ the Don. A man who’s music transcended all of time and pushed boundaries..a generational talent with exceptional skill. At least those were the words used to describe him by a plethora of magazines over the years. On the contrary, others would acclaim that he was a bit of a playboy. That he hurt people at will with no regard for their feelings..sabotaging relationships purposefully so that he was no longer bound to them. He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

However, you knew otherwise. EJ, as far as you were concerned, was an entirely different entity of itself. You had fallen for Eren..the man who’d leave the studio at night tired and exhausted but still managed to have fresh flowers and your favorite treats in hand. The man who’d curl up with you on rainy days and binge movies. The Eren you loved would comfort you relentlessly until you were far batter. Making you laugh and cheer up with the dumbest jokes..that’s the kind of person he was. So it came without question, when one night on the rooftop of a hotel in Greece; surrounded by fluorescent blue lights, a lavish table filled with wine and rose petals next to the serene pool waters where he asked you to be his wife, you’d immediately accept. Saying yes faster than he could get the proposal out. You were elated to not only spend the rest of your life with him but share the exciting news with the world and those you loved. To your surprise though, you weren’t met with the warm reception that you had pictured in your head.

once the announcement came, the rumors followed and there was no escaping them. Even so called friends were hesitant. Telling you that he used to go with this model and date this girl so it was best to watch out. Some even suggested calling the whole thing off to spare you from future heartache...and you’d be lying if you said that they hadn’t worn you down. That you hadn’t wondered if there was a bit of truth to them. But if there was anything he was dedicated to doing, it was setting your mind at ease and proving all of them wrong.

“…room for one more?”

the voice ringing from earshot and sending flutters throughout the pit of your belly. You’d flip over onto your side with a faint beam as your fiancé made his way over to you. “For you? Anytime..” Kneeling into the mattress as he brushes a hand along your bare shoulder blade, leaning forward to place a kiss on your temple. It seemed that the effects of the dreary, rainy day had taken its toll on him as well. Sporting a pair of sweats and a tank top, indicating that he was finished with his work for the day and ready to relax with the one person who brought him serenity. Ironically, there was something rather tranquil about weather like this..whereas most people saw it as something negative; a literal damper in their plans, some took it as an opportunity to purify themselves. Not so much in a literal regard but it was perfect to just lie here and let all of those feelings that normally wouldn’t make their way to the forefront be known. Coiling one of those toned, tattooed arms around (y/n)’s covered torso, Eren began to mumble into your skin..simultaneously leaving gentle pecks along your arm. “This rain kinda sucks, doesn’t it? It’s so depressing..” “..yeah..it is.” The dryness in your response caused an immediate alarm for your fiancé. That was the thing with Eren..even when it seemed as if he were completely nonchalant and not paying you much attention, he focused on the smallest details and kept note.

there were things about you that he had noticed early on in your relationship and still to this day, could remember them better than you could. “I see it’s already working on someone…” making an attempt at a light hearted joke and even smirking afterwards, hoping that his humor would bring at least a faint smile to your face. He hated seeing you like this..hated knowing that something was obviously bothering you and you wouldn’t tell him the cause. In fact, he picked up on it three days ago when he saw you sitting outside near the pool, glaring off into space at what seemed to be nothing. In the same regard, he wasn’t the type to pry..he knew how irksome he felt when someone pestered him so he figured it best to wait for an opportune moment to confront you. Now seemed like as good of a time as any. He never did well with communicating his feelings either so he used jokes and humor as a means to break the proverbial ice. But luckily, he wouldn’t need some awkward segway because you’d ask him something that would make his stomach turn.

“..do you think we did the right thing?”

admittedly and rightfully so, he was a little confused. What ‘right thing’ were you referring to exactly?

“As in what?”

“Getting engaged..moving in together. Are we really meant to be here?” The words seemed to be spilling from between your lips as if they had been sitting there for quite some time. It was a little insulting nonetheless. As if you had waited for this exact moment. But he’d be lying if he said that they hadn’t stung a bit. He figured the two of you were equally yoked and on the same page. Happy to be marrying your forever person. At least that’s what he felt..were you having doubts? Did you not love him as much as he loved you? What had he done wrong? Swallowing the hard lump that had instantly formed in his throat, Eren proceeded to ask questions, seeing if he could maybe get through to you to figure out what was wrong.

“Is there something that would make you think different? I mean, personally..I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real..”

for a moment, he began to reminisce on the moments leading up to the night he popped the question. Searching relentlessly for the perfect ring..enlisting the help of his best friends and even your girls to ensure that it was one that you’d love. He took extra special care to make the night unforgettable. Eren had even flown to go see his mom to ask for the gift she had given him years ago that he now wanted to give to you..if that wasn’t enough, he’d even taken you to your granny’s grave and asked for her blessing of sorts. He was a wreck, even crying because he was so happy and wanted her to know that he’d take care of you from now on..for the first time in his young twenty seven years, he was truly grateful and he wanted nothing more than to be the ideal man for you. A husband that you’d be proud of..one that you bragged to your friends about over lunch, one that you’d dip out on plans early to get back to. That was the type of relationship he had envisioned; one where nothing else mattered when you two were together. Now it seemed that you were having reservations..

“I’m so scared…” Just then, the sounds of your words were muddled by whimpers. He had no idea that you were this conflicted by the matter..and if so, why not say something?! Flipping you over, he’d be met with your beautiful brown eyes that always seemed to burst with love and excitement were welling with tears that were only moments from spilling. Brushing your cheek, Eren gazed upon you with a worried expression over taking his face. How could he have been so dumb?..here you were hurting and he hadn’t even clocked it. “Why, baby? I don’t understand..of what?” Truth was, you were afraid of marriage in general but even more so, if not being what you envisioned. You were afraid of things not being picturesque and perfect. That you’d wake up one day and end up just like the rest of the girls he’d supposedly dumped. Discarded to the wayside after he grew tired of them. You didn’t want everyone to be right about the two of you! Another passed around Instagram model with nothing of substance to offer, a philandering rapper with commitment issues..the headlines were certain to be brutal. But above all else..you only wanted to do this once. You only ever wanted to walk down that aisle one time in your life. You loved this man more than anything in this world so the last thing you wanted was to take his hand in marriage only to be sliding that ring off a few years down the road. It was a sacred thing and you never wanted to lose sight of that.

“Of this..of us not working out. I mean, I love you so much and there’s nothing I want more than to be your wife but everywhere I turn, it seems like somebody wants the opposite. As if we’re not meant to be. I thought everyone would’ve been as happy as we are. But it’s always something..”

granted, he was no stranger to the gossip either. Between his fangirls and the blogs, they wouldn’t give you a break. They were furious that someone had snatched up their precious EJ and it was some girl who seemingly came out of nowhere. According to them, you weren’t his type, you couldn’t possibly love him the way he deserved and there were at least ten other women who were more fit to take your position. It was insane. Although he was never much for social media and its sick antics, he’d done his fair share of defense for you. Which spoke volumes. After a while, he rid himself of all accounts and focused solely on you. Despite it being how you made your living, he wished you’d do the same. He couldn’t imagine petty accusations with zero basis being the reason that he lost you. It would crush him, truly. Even so, he’d done as he always had at times like these and pulled you close to his chest, swaddled you in those muscular arms and peppered your forehead with gentle kisses.

“Do you remember the first night we met? At the club?” It seemed like such an odd time to be going down memory lane but that’s how Eren was..he could tolerate a lot of things but seeing you cry was not one of them. So he wanted to try a different approach.

“I couldn’t forget. I had such a good time..”

“So did I..hell, I was so nervous around you, I almost messed up my whole performance that night.” The two of you break into a small fit of laughter as you look back on the antics of your earlier days together. The wild nights, the hookups, the tension leading up to you making things official..it was all a journey. You’d find yourself giggling as he held you close to him. You seemed far more comfortable and vulnerable now; able to express your feelings more freely. Which was a great thing for him.

“Please..I couldn’t even concentrate. You kept teasing me and shit. I don’t know how I made it through that without embarrassing myself.” But alas, he’d think it was cute. Watching you stumble over your words, seeing you squeeze your thighs together when he switched up those steamier lyrics to fit you and when he ran a finger underneath your chin, you nearly collapsed! Being on stage with your celebrity crush was not for the weak..

“Yeah, but you did and do you remember what everyone was saying after that? All the bullshit they said about us?” It was something you’d never forget, truthfully. For days after, the infamous photo of you guys hugged up on a lounge couch in the VIP section circulated the web for an entire week. There were countless headlines, alleging that you two were an item, that you were hooking up..the game of telephone had become so terrible that three days later, stan accounts and grown adults alike had concocted stories of you two having sex backstage and him doing inappropriate things right there in front of everyone. Even so called ‘witnesses’ backed up the claims. Naturally, all of it was false but it still didn’t stop people from running with whatever narrative they saw fit. Despite the fact that prior to that appearance, you’d never ever laid eyes on this man, less known did all of the things they accused you of. You were complete strangers..again, it stopped no one’s rumor mill from running!

“Yeah..I do. All of it just sounded like people had too much time on their hands.”

but his point wasn’t quite driven home yet..still clutching you, he’d chuckle once more and just nod. “Mhm..and what about when we first started dating? Remember the dumb shit they said then?” Once again, you’d answer his question, giggling when you recalled how stupid it all was. From the accusations of him being nothing more than a pay pig for some lavish lifestyle they claimed you were flexing online. Or that he wasn’t really faithful because he did a show with a former ‘partner’, who was nothing more than a PR stunt to begin with. Nevermind the fact that she was a lesbian! “Like when they said you were cheating on me with your ex? Trust me, I couldn’t escape that one even if I wanted to.” “Which was crazy because she was way more interested in you than me. Even asked me for your number..” seeing his expression furrow into a silly pout and you couldn’t hold it together another second. You’d burst into laughter at the thought. “I’m serious! She got mad because I didn’t bring you with me..must think I’m stupid or sum’. Little Miss Hoes always pulled more girls than I ever could.” The mental image of a one hundred thirty pound, five foot four blonde stealing his potential prospects had you rolling around and in much better spirits. “You’re a mess, you know that?” Which was his one and only goal.

“Well I’m glad somebody found my lack of game funny.” But truthfully, the only woman he wanted was right here. Which was the entire point of this little roundabout trip down memory lane..it didn’t matter what happened back then or what people claimed to know about him..he only cared about what was to come. The life, the future that he was building with you trumped over anything that they could say. They didn’t know how drastically he had changed for you. How he was hopelessly in love..how much softer and compassionate he had become so he was a better man for you. Even when you weren’t around, his beloved (y/n) was the topic of conversation..oftentimes, his boys would make fun of him for how much of a ‘simp’ he had grown to be. How his voice changed in pitch when you were on the phone, his eyes radiating whilst talking to you..it was the cutest thing! So if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was all in. He had no regrets or doubts about asking you to marry him. He was ready. Anybody from his past was a mere afterthought and he wasn’t missing out. All he could do was pray that you felt the same. Turning your head towards him, EJ looked you directly in the eyes and began to speak.

“Listen, princess..I know it isn’t easy. Being with someone like me. I’m not perfect..not by a long shot. Truth is, I was really selfish back in the day. I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself. Hell, until you came along, I still didn’t. I had always told myself I’d never let anyone get close to me just so I didn’t have to worry about another person. Marriage, dating..seemed like a foreign concept to me..” this was the first time in his life where he was able to be vulnerable..where he could lay all of his emotions bare. Intertwining your fingers together, Eren pulled them close and placed gentle kisses across your knuckles. A comforting tactic for the both of you.

“But right now...there’s nothing else I want more than to be your husband. To keep making more of these memories..(Y/N), I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. I can’t take back what I’ve done or who I was. And I’m so sorry that you’ve had to be on the receiving end of it. But I don’t care about what happened back then or what they say about us. I love you..I love you so damn much. Please believe me when I say that.” By this point, faint traces of tears began to stream once more. You were no longer sad, hurt or worried but rather..relieved. Relieved that his heart was equally devoted to this as yours. You’d do whatever it took to make this work. Outside interferences and opinions aside..

“And I love you more, Eren. I promise, I won’t let anything or anyone come between us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

No relationship was ideal and obviously, just like rainy days, bad ones were guaranteed as well but you could always weather the storm as long as you were together..

[luveline]

hiya! i have a request for miguel and spidergirl!reader where she gets really scared of him during the events of across the spiderverse (i was terrified for my boy miles tbh) and i want to know how that would change their relationship and his reaction.

Miguel can hardly catch his breath. 

You sit there with your legs crossed on the table. The alcove of the workshop you’re in is dark, but you know he knows you’re there. 

He slams his hand into Spider-Byte’s computer and sends it toppling, plastic casing shattering across the floor. Your pulse hikes of its own accord; you’re thinking, what’s happening? 

Miguel abruptly stills. 

For a while you breathe deeply, trying to make yourself talk as he calms down. When you’re sure you’ll sound okay, you ask, quiet and slow, “Miguel, what are you doing?” 

His shoulders tense. He looks strange, shards of his suit yet to regenerate, the technology permanently mauled, an ocean of awful space between you. “You know what I’m doing,” he says. 

“I’ve been with you for a long time. I don’t understand this.” 

“But you’re still here.”

You slide off of the table. You’re a bad person, you’re making the wrong decision, but you’re scared of him. Losing him, what he might do. You stand in front of Miguel, and you are terrified. You are. You can’t coalesce this image of him with your Miguel. Only that morning you’d woken after a lovesick night in his arms to the soft pad of his finger as it ran up and down your nose. A half hour ago you watched him try to hurt a kid. 

“Where else would I be?”

Miguel takes your face into two big hands. You want him to say he’d never hurt you, that he’d never hurt anybody, but you’ve already seen him do it before, and now he’s stuck a couple hundred super-powered spiders on Miles when Miles was doing what anyone would. What sense of scope should he be expected to have? It’s his father. 

Love occludes reason. You’d choose Miguel over anyone else as Miles chose his father, and you don’t have the excuse of being a kid. 

It is sickening to stand there and know you’re on Miguel’s side. You feel dizzy with it. He’s the bad guy. 

He tilts your head to one side, then the other. “I have to make the hard calls.” 

He’s looking at you funny. None of his lightness. You and him have spent infinite stretches of time looking one another in the eye. Usually too warm to function or otherwise distracted, but other times just looking, just standing somewhere with the commonality of your affection between you. You can’t see much of that now. 

“Miguel,” you murmur. It’s hard to feel like yourself when he’s so far away. “What are you going to do?”

“Fix this,” he says. 

“Maybe we should wait–” He drops your face. “Maybe we–”

“Not we. Me.” 

“I’m still here,” you say. Your voice wobbles oddly, a flash of the panic you’ve been feeling finally showing itself. 

He puts his hand on your waist gently. “I know, cariño,” he says quietly, pulling you closer, “you’re still here. I’ll make this right, my girl, I–” He closes you in. It doesn’t feel as it used to, but to have him treat you with care is a comfort, even if you’re still watching the pupils of his eyes nervously. “I’ll fix this.”

“I think that’s what I’m afraid of.”

He frowns. “You don’t understand,” he says, leaning down for a quick kiss. You close your eyes tightly. “But you will.” 

The worst part is that his kiss feels the same. You love him, and you’re about to go down a one way road with him. He hugs you and you try to pretend you think he’s right. 

[kikyo-bnha-imagines]

Reader with a memory loss condition, any character, hella angst 🙏

BAKUGOU KATSUKI | MEMORY LOSS

Katsuki thought he’d lost you for good. The sight of you covered in blood, eyes squeezed shut, and barely even breathing... it was almost too much to bear. If he couldn’t even protect the person he loved most, then how the fuck could he call himself a hero?  

But against all odds, you survived. The universe decided to have mercy this time, even though he’d failed to protect you. He’d fucked up, and the guilt would follow him forever, but at least he was being granted a second chance.  

Unfortunately, your life had come at no small price.  

“I have to warn you, Bakugou,” the doctor frowns. “She’s... different now. All of the healing and surgery have taken care of her life-threatening injuries, but she suffered severe head trauma, and it’s put her in a state of disorientation.”  

Katsuki clenches his jaw. “What are you trying to say? I know it’s gonna take her a while to recover. It’s not like I expect her to be up and running right away. As long as she’s safe—”  

“I’m referring to her brain. Well, more specifically, her memories. We did an initial screening, and it’s quite clear that she’s suffering from amnesia.” The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. “I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare yourself.”  

“...oh.”  

Katsuki doesn’t know what else to say. Really, what can he say? You’re alive. That simple fact alone is worthy of celebration. He's just grateful that you’re still here, living and breathing. He doesn’t have to say goodbye to you. He’ll never, ever be ready to say goodbye to you.

“This is still a very early diagnosis,” the doctor reassures. “Following a traumatic event, some patients suffer memory loss for a few days, weeks, or in rarer cases, months, but it’s not guaranteed to be permanent. In fact, temporary amnesia is far more common. It just takes a while for the brain to repair itself.”  

“I get it,” Katsuki nods. Right. It’s all going to be fine. You’ve just come out of a life-threatening battle, so it’s no wonder if your mind is in disarray.  

There’s no need to panic. Katsuki loves you, and you love him.  

As long as you’re together, whatever it is, you’ll get through it.  

“If you’re ready, then you’re welcome to go see her now,” the doctor encourages.  

Katsuki doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps into the hospital room without sparing a breath, and sure enough, there you are. Sweet, lovely [Name]. The love of his life, all covered in bandages, but looking just as beautiful as always.  

Katsuki swallows his tears. He already cried his heart out when he first thought you were a goner, and he cried even more while you were in intensive care. There’s no point in crying anymore, not when you’re alive and well. Seeing him with a weak, broken expression won’t do you any good.  

For your sake, he needs to be strong.  

“[Name],” Katsuki mumbles. He walks over to your bedside and pulls out a chair so he can sit close. He isn’t normally much of a smiler, but being next to you like this—something he thought he’d never be able to do again—makes his lips curl up at the sides and tremble in relief.

You’re alive. Your injuries have been healed, for the most part, and there won’t be any lasting damage. There’s no reason why you won’t be able to keep enjoying life, just as you've done up until now.  

Overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to feel the warmth of your skin against his, Katsuki reaches out to grab your hand.  

You recoil immediately, and in that moment, Katsuki’s heart shatters.

“Sorry,” you swallow. “Um. I don’t... I don’t know who you are.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up. The doctor mentioned amnesia. He did mention amnesia. But... isn’t this way too extreme? This is like the kind of stuff that happens in movies, or when elderly patients are in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.  

You blink, searching his expression for a clue. “I’m sorry,” you frown. “I feel like I should know you. It sounds like you know me. But it’s just hard. It feels like my head is all foggy. I’m really, really sorry...”  

And then you start crying. You cry and cry, even though you can’t possibly be to blame, and all the while, Katsuki is helpless to do anything but watch.  

“It’s not—” He swallows hard, wiping his eyes so that he doesn’t start crying too. “I-It’s okay,” he chokes out. “It’s not your fault, [Name]. I’m Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki. Does that name sound familiar at all? It’ll come back to you. I promise it will.”  

“I don’t know,” you sob. “I don’t know. I just don’t know...”  

He’s never wanted to hug you more in his entire life, but how can he? From your perspective, he’s nothing more than a stranger. You wouldn’t even let him hold your hand. All of those years spent together, all of those incredible memories you’d shared... they’re gone. Just like that.  

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki mumbles brokenly.  

He says it again and again, but he’s not even sure you hear him over the sound of your own cries.  

The past few months have been the hardest of Katsuki’s entire life, and regretfully, the days ahead aren’t going to get any easier.  

Your amnesia is permanent. Or, at the very least, the odds of you making a recovery at this point are so small they may as well be zero.

Katsuki isn’t the only person you’ve forgotten. You forgot a good chunk of the classmates you went to U.A with, major life events, and even certain encounters with villains—including the very incident that nearly claimed your life. The doctor said it’s very common for traumatic events to be forgotten, and while Katsuki is glad that you don’t have to remember something so horrible, why did you have to forget all the good stuff too?  

It’s just not fair. Katsuki knows he should be grateful. He still gets to see your pretty, smiling face, he still gets to talk to you and hear you laugh from time to time. None of that would have been possible if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail to save your life. At least you’re still young, your body is in healthy, functional shape, and the personality he fell for is still largely unchanged.  

Katsuki doesn’t want to complain. He doesn’t want to take what he still has for granted.  

But it just really fucking hurts.  

He hasn’t been able to hold you in months. He hasn’t been able to kiss you either. Even though he’s told you that the two of you used to date, you’ve forgotten all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. It’s taken time for you to let your guard down, especially since everything’s so difficult to make sense of.  

You’re friends. At the very least, Katsuki is still a part of your life. But every time he cracks an inside joke or accidentally makes a reference to something that happened in the past, and he sees the confused look in your eyes, a part of him breaks.  

Still, he refuses to stop trying. He’ll never stop trying. The doctors said that certain memories can trigger other ones, and in rare cases, even patients with severe memory loss were able to make a miraculous recovery.  

Katsuki never used to be the type of person to hold out hope for a miracle, but nowadays, it’s all he ever wishes for.  

“It’s pretty here,” you say, sighing happily. Your gaze flickers towards the beach’s shoreline, and you admire the gentle, rippling waves as the sun descends through the sky.  

Katsuki just stares at you. “You’re prettier,” he replies.  

“Oh, pfft,” you brush off. “Quit hitting on me.”  

He wants to do more than just hit on you. He wants you wrap his arms around you and slam his lips against yours, meeting you in the most desperate, passionate kiss he can muster. If it was up to him, the two of you would already be rolling around in the sand right now, bodies pressed together so close that you could feel each other’s heartbeat.  

But he can’t. You’re not ready yet. You’re not ready, and... you’ve forgotten. You’ve forgotten the happiest moments of his life.  

So, he’ll wait. There’s nothing else he can do but wait. Starting over from the beginning is painful and gut-wrenching. It’s an endless cycle of despair. You might never remember. There’s a chance you might not even fall in love with him again.  

But at least you’re alive. At least you’re here with him right now.  

Katsuki will never stop trying, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he cries. He’ll form new memories with you, and even if those disappear one day too... 

He’ll just start all over again. 

[loveharlow]

DANCING WITH YOUR GHOST

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.3k] After a violent run in with Rafe and his guys, the group of Pogues is left with one less member, leaving a void in the heart of a certain blonde

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, death/murder, mentions of blood, mild violence, mentions of hallucinating, grief, mentions of a funeral, general angst

PROMPT‧₊˚ " 'cause our love is a ghost that the others can't see, it's a danger."

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU FELT THE PAIN BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE. You felt the pain in your abdomen before you felt the familiar warmth of JJ’s hands on your waist as he caught you before you hit the ground. You felt the blood coating the lower half of your body before you heard Kie’s earth-shattering scream. You heard yourself make a gurgling sound as a metallic, repulsive taste filled your mouth. You tried to speak, your big and pleading eyes drifting to your five friends above you. You couldn’t understand why they all looked so sad, so worried.

Their voices were like distant chatter in your ears, barely there. It sounded like they were underwater but you felt like you were the one drowning. Your vision was going in and out, the act of making out their faces getting harder by the second. 

Kiara was crying hysterically, hands over her mouth as tears cascaded freely from her eyes. She looked like she was struggling to catch her breath between cries. John B looked dumbstruck, standing so still you questioned if he was even a living thing at that moment. Pope was clearly discomposed but there was an undertone of anger in his stance, tears in his eyes but his fists balled so tightly. Sarah sported a quivering lip, muttering what sounded like ‘sorry’ over and over.

JJ was closest to you, on his knees as you finally registered the feeling of his hands pressing on your torso. He was sobbing, talking a mile a minute and you had not even a small clue as to what he may have been saying.

The drama between Rafe, his crew, and your friends had come to a head tonight when the two groups came across one another in the woods — harsh words exchanged, insults thrown. It just kept escalating. You had a gut feeling something would go wrong.

Rafe threw the first punch, clocking John B in the jaw. Everything after was a blur — punches thrown, knuckles split, and then the cocking of a gun rang out. No one knew why none of you expected Rafe Cameron to pull out a gun.

And why no one expected him to use it.

All you could really recall was Topper, the loyal lap-dog he is, trying to calm the erratic blonde down as he waved the firearm recklessly. He failed, nevertheless, Rafe falling into a spiral while wielding the gun as if it was a toy. 

Everyone flinched when it went off, ducking beneath their own arms. 

You don't know exactly what happened or how it happened. You just knew that, suddenly, you were hot. You felt frozen in time and a fire seemed to spread from the center of your being and you felt everyone’s eyes turn to you. You caught Rafe’s eye, watching as Topper and Kelce pulled him away and the three of them disappeared into the thick of the woods.

When your mind had finally caught up to your body, only then did you realize the stray bullet had found its home in you. You went into a panic at the realization, attempting to sit up, only to be met with a harsh, burning pain that had you shrieking. Somehow, that pain cleared your senses — allowing you to hear the voices of your friends and see them clearly now. The downside being that you were now all too aware of your wound and the blood spilling from your mouth.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” It was JJ talking, your eyes slowly drifting towards him. “Don’t try to talk o-or move, okay? W-we’re gonna get an ambulance and you’re gonna be fine.” He spoke nervously, tears trailing down his chin. “You’re going to be fine.”

Unable to speak, you nodded unsteadily, trying to focus on breathing. Everything felt so hard to do, things that should've come naturally. Your whole body hurt and ached. Your airways felt congested and you had no way to clear them. Your hands were fisting the dirt in reaction to the searing pain you felt.

The blood pooling in your throat became too much at some point, you began to cough mercilessly, the crimson substance splattering from your lips, coating JJ’s shirt. 

“No, no, no...” The blonde began to panic. “Sarah! Where’s the ambulance?!” He yelled, startling the petrified girl who clutched her phone in her hands.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?!”

“I don’t know! There’s no service, no one is answering-” She panicked, shoulders stuck in an upwards position showing just how uncomfortable she was. A part of her felt guilty, as she always did for the actions of her brother.

“You didn’t think to say anything five minutes ago?!” Pope roared at her.

“We’re all scared, guys! Give her a break-” John B tried to defend.

“My girlfriend is bleeding out because of her psycho brother, John B! I don’t give a shit about how scared she is!” You were still hacking up blood clots as the group argued, doing nothing to remedy the situation. You felt like your chest was caving in on itself. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I'm trying.” JJ apologized, voice wavering under the self-imposed pressure to keep you alive.

“I got it! Someone answered- hi, hello?” Kie announced, still distraught but more level-headed as moments passed, allowing the fog in her mind to clear.

JJ cooed, trying to calm your coughing fit. “I can’t turn her on her side without taking my hands off of the wound but she’s coughing, guys, I don’t think she can breathe.” JJ rambled and ranted as Kie remained on the phone. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do! Guys!” His voice then went underwater again and your vision clouded over once more.

You didn’t know if you were still regurgitating blood, you didn’t know anything. All you knew was that your eyelids were forcing themselves shut and the pain you once felt started to dissipate into nothing as everything fell behind a blanket of warmth and darkness. 

You felt everything until you felt nothing.

By the time the ambulance had arrived, you'd gone still. Paler than anyone had ever seen you with blood coating every inch of your frame. The pogues had to hold JJ to let the EMT’s load your body onto the stretcher and into the truck.

Dead on arrival, was what they told the pogues. They'd managed to regain your pulse on the drive to the hospital but it was lost again just two minutes before you were barrelled the doors and handed off to the doctors.

Your friends were crowded into a far corner in the waiting room when the doctor came out, a solemn yet professional look plastered on the man’s face as he explained that there was nothing they could do, that you’d lost too much blood. It was quiet for a few beats, then Kiara broke down, Sarah following. John’s B face fell into his hands and Pope cried silently. JJ had stormed off, angry and heartbroken. He was emotional beyond belief and the only thing he could think as he marched out of the Kildare County Hospital was that he couldn’t be the one to face your parents knowing he couldn’t do anything to save their daughter.

YOUR FUNERAL ONLY MADE JJ ANGRIER. It was held not too long after you passed, only a couple weeks after the incident that had taken your life in the first place. Rafe went MIA but no one outside of the people there that night knew he was the one who’d killed you, anyway. Topper and Kelce’s lips were sealed and the pogues were too stuck in their own bubbles of grief to even want revenge against him just yet. 

But that wasn’t why JJ stood with a stormy expression as a semi-circle was formed around your coffin. He was angry because none of this was what you would’ve wanted. There were dozens of people there — kids from school who never even knew you, local shop owners who’d only seen you a handful of times. Sure, they should be able to give their condolences but you wouldn’t have wanted them here, feeding your parents empty apologies and whispering about how ‘such a nice girl could’ve met such an untimely end’.

Needless to say, he didn’t stay long. Your mother and father had tried to talk to him, see how he was doing but it’d been weeks and he still couldn’t face them. In his mind, he’d failed to protect their child.

JJ’S ROOM AT THE CHATEAU WAS CROWDED AND STUFFY. He hadn’t left the space much in the last couple weeks and John B was beginning to worry. Through the locked door, he could hear JJ rewatching old videos of you both, listening to your voicemails on repeat, and he was fairly sure that the boy still texted your phone and looked through your social media. The accounts that your parents hadn't known about and taken down anyway. John B had to slide food under his door just to make sure he ate.

But what worried him the most were the late nights that he’d hear mumbling and realized at some point that JJ was talking to you, or at least what he thought was you.

It was close to midnight and JJ sat on his bed, a plate with a sandwich still sitting in front of his bedroom door. It was probably warm by now. 

“You have to eat something.” The all too familiar voice of your ghost, or whatever it was, rang out in the staleness of JJ's room.

“I will.” He spoke. His face was red and raw from crying.

“You should probably shower, too.”

“I will.” 

“You can’t go on like this, JJ-”

“I know that!” The blonde shouted. “You think I don’t know that, Y/N?” He scoffed, pushing himself up off of his bed harshly and pacing around the small space. He’d been 'talking to you' for the last couple of days now. His brain not allowing him to process your death properly, wanting you alive and back in his arms so badly that he’d started seeing you — hallucinating you. He was scared at first, then he was relieved but now he just wanted you to go away because he knew you weren’t real.

The shadow of you that appeared in the same corner of his room every night was not you. It was the memory of you that his mind had conjured up. You looked like a person, like yourself. You looked so real, like if he reached his hand out to touch you he'd feel skin but he wouldn't. He tried the first time you appeared. He didn't care that you looked exactly the same way you did the night you died, blood stains and all. It sounded like you and looked like you. It talked like you, it made the same facial expressions as you and at first that was enough. But he knew that it wasn’t you.

“I’m not trying to upset you.”

JJ ran his hands down his face. “Why can’t you just go away?” He asked despondently. He didn’t know if he meant it. Sometimes, your phantom presence could be comforting. Other times, it was just another haunting realization of the fact that he’d never be able to hold you again. “You make me feel like I’m losing my mind. I already let you die and I have to live with that. Do I have to live with your ghost lingering in the corner of my room now, too?”

“You didn’t let me die.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t, JJ. I was shot. You did everything you could.”

“I didn’t do enough-” He claimed angrily.

“You did your best. You all did your best-”

“Then my best was not enough! We didn’t do enough!” He yelled, kicking the plate with the uneaten sandwich against the wall, watching as the plate shattered. He was breathing heavily as he fell to his knees, sliding against the wall. “Two minutes…” He mumbled. “All you had to do was hold on for two more minutes and they could’ve saved you.”

“You don't know that. I was in pain, JJ.” He hated how unreal your voice sounded. It was yours, the pitch and all, but it echoed and reverberated through the room as if you were in a chapel. “I was dead the minute that bullet went through me. Those were two minutes I never had.”

“You don’t know that.” He sobbed, curling up on himself. “I needed you. I still need you. And you left me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn't want to.”

“You're always sorry- will you stop apologizing?!” He shouted tearfully. “It’s not your fault.”

“But you blame me.”

“I blame myself. I don’t blame you, I could never blame you.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said! But I don’t know what I’m saying, okay?!” He bellowed. “Please, please, just go away. I want to be alone. So, go away.” When he was met with no ghost-like response, he looked up to find your corner of his room empty. He let his head fall to his knees, his arms wrapped around them.

He sat like that, crying into his own arms until he fell asleep.

“YOU CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS!” John B’s voice bellowed in the living room of The Chateau as he trailed behind JJ who’d come out of hiding. The shaggy-haired boy hadn’t gotten any real sleep with JJ incessantly arguing with your ghost every night. He understood his friend was grieving but clearly his gentle approach was only encouraging his best friend’s delusions.

“What do you want me to do?” JJ barked back, the two boys now inches apart but still speaking at boisterous volumes.

JJ was well aware that John B knew of his odd and off-putting coping mechanism. He felt bad that his friend, more like brother, had to endure his grief on top of his own. He truly did. Everyone was still grieving you in their own way.

Kie had created a memorial table for you at The Wreck with her father's permission, a table that guest would never sit or eat at. Purely there to collect gifts and memorabilia.

Pope has become hyper-focused on repairing his academic profile, knowing you wanted nothing more than for him to gain back the scholarships he'd lost over the summer. You were his motivation.

Sarah had been distant. She felt partially guilty for what happened, despite the constant reassurance that she and Rafe were two different people. She visited your grave the most, a product of her deep-rooted guilt.

John B had carved your initials into the tree in his backyard, along with the signature 'P4L' to end it off. He'd even moved everything you'd ever left at his house - sweaters, blankets, socks, into the room where he kept all of his father's things. He figured you could both rest in peace together. Big John did always like you.

So, JJ was truly sorry that he couldn't pull himself together but he figured John B would be more understanding. He didn't know that John B had been as understanding as possible.

“You’re feeding into it! I get that you’re grieving, okay? But this has gone too far, man.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, JJ, you don’t get it. She’s gone. She’s been gone.”

That struck a hard nerve in JJ. He knew you were gone. But he didn't like to hear it. He hated every variation of it. Gone. Passed Away. Dead. Deceased. Resting. He hated them all.

“Shut up.” JJ gritted through his teeth, but tears were brimming in his eyes.

“She’s dead. She’s been dead for almost two months-”

“Shut up!” The blonde yelled, pinning the brunette to the nearest wall. John B knew this was probably good for him, so he put up no fight.

In JJ's mind, John B just didn't get it and he never would. JJ loved your ghostly presence when he was crying so hard that he couldn't breathe and your voice would ring out, reminding him that you loved him and that you'd see again some day. But he didn't like it so much when that same voice was encouraging him to get up and take care of himself, or reminding him that the day he pulled himself together was when you would be gone for good, ghost and all. Because then he wouldn't need you anymore.

“You need to let her go.” Was the last thing John B said before JJ stared him down like a sad but feral dog. It was seconds that felt like minutes then the blonde released his friend and stormed back into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

He was sick of John B. He was sick of everyone. JJ knew he wasn’t grieving well but he didn’t know how he was supposed to.

He didn’t want to visit your grave, declining when the rest of the pogues extended the invite. They went weekly, replacing the flowers and plush animals each time.

He didn’t want to face your parents who’d been requesting his presence at the house he’d frequented plenty of times. 

He didn't want to go to school. The pitiful looks he'd receive from classmates who previously saw him as nothing but trouble. Your locker had been bombarded with cards, stuffed animals, and pictures. God, he hated the pictures. They were all pictures of you with other people, usually the person who hung them up. 'Hey, look! I was sort of friends with the dead girl!' To him it was all false grief, people using your death as some kind of sick icebreaker.

'Did you hear about what happened to that girl? It's so sad.'

'She was so young. It could've been any one of us, y'know?'

He'd burn that locker to ashes if he could.

But the final crack in the glass came when he laid himself out on his bed, still heated and furious, typing out a text message to you about how much of an asshole John B was. Unexpectedly, when he pressed send on this message...

The bubble turned green.

It was a harsh realization, the boy freezing in place for a moment and before he knew it, JJ hurled his phone at the wall. Conveniently, in the same corner you always appeared in.

Through his rage, however, he noticed something on the floor in the corner that he hadn't before in all the times he'd conversed with you. Swiftly walking towards it and snatching up the object, he was brought down from his anger when he realized it was a photo of you and him that he thought he'd lost months ago. He'd planned to frame it but never got around to doing so.

It had him balling violently in seconds, John B coming in hesitantly at the sound of his borderline horrific cries and rubbing his best friends back as he sobbed, clutching the photo to his chest.

You were gone.

And he had to let you go. He didn't know how to and he didn't want to. But he knew he had to.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[blairrwaldorfs]

Champagne Problems

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: When one door closes, one door opens.

Author's Note: Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift with an extended perspective.

Wordcount: 3.2K

The train was quiet and still. People were in their own little worlds, their headphones in their ears, their nose stuck in a book, or some were asleep. The city blurred in front of Joe’s eyes as he sat at the window seat of the train. Coat wrapped around his body as if it was something that could protect him from the events of today. As if it could help drown the emotions that were washing over him at the moment. His leg shook anxiously as he held up his fingers and the edges of his teeth found his nails. 

He felt numb.

He didn’t really know what to think or feel. He didn’t really expect it at all because this wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear at all, but he did. He watched her stand there in front of his entire family and friends, a small embarrassed smile tugged on her lips as he waited for her answer. 

Joe let out a sigh, letting his eyes wander around the train. Just a few more minutes until he was back in the city. Back home where he felt safe. Though, he wasn’t sure if he would feel that way, knowing that she wouldn’t be there waiting for him anymore. His left hand found the inside of his coat pocket and there it was:

The box. 

The velvety small red box that he had been playing in his hand all month long, trying to figure out what to say or do once he opened it. Looking at the red velvet box, he knew that everything would change the moment he opened it. He just didn’t expect that it would change in the worst way possible. Joe had planned this for a year now. He was ready. He even was able to gather his whole family and joined in with the plan. 

“Oh, darling.” Joe’s mother gave him those big wet brown eyes of hers. “I have something better for you to give to her.” 

Joe had traveled back to his parents’ home that weekend to tell them the news. To tell them the decision he had made. To tell them that he was ready to start his own life with her. 

Joe’s mum got up from the sofa and speed walked towards her bedroom before coming back with that red velvet box. Inside was his grandmother’s engagement ring when Joe’s grandfather proposed to her. It was beautiful. Not too big nor too small. It was just right. Joe thought it would fit her perfectly, and he didn’t hesitate to thank his mum for it. 

“It’s perfect.” Joe smiled. 

“I know she’s going to love it.” His mum replied. 

For months, Joe had kept that red velvet box inside his desk drawer where he knew she wouldn’t be able to find it. Joe thought the relationship was going well. He thought even through the rough times, they would always find a way back to each other. They would always find a way to solve the problem, so what happened? How come all of a sudden, everything had fallen into pieces? 

“I’m sorry.” She had told him. 

Joe was on his one knee still, a smile tugging on his lips, and the box in his hand. His cousin had already popped the champagne before she could even answer him because they thought there was no other answer, right? They were perfect together, right?

“Joe…” She sighed, her eyes scanning the room as she felt her cheeks burned from embarrassment. 

“What is it?” Joe’s smile slowly faded as he got up from his position. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think this is the right time.” She whispered, turning their backs from his family. “I’m not ready for this.” 

Joe felt his heart shattered into a million pieces. His family also knew what was going on without an explanation. They saw it all. They saw her expression. They heard her answer and somehow, Joe suddenly felt embarrassed by what just happened. Walking out the backdoor of the house, he followed behind her as he waited for more explanation.

“We knew this wasn’t working out.” She shook her head. 

“I…” Joe knitted his brows. “I don’t understand.”

“I know, but I’m sorry. This should have ended a long time ago.” 

That was it. 

She didn’t say anything else before grabbing her coat, whispered apologies to Joe’s family and friends and out the door. Joe stood there frozen by the kitchen doorway, the box still in his hand, and he felt defeated as he watched her walk away. She dropped him like a champagne glass and left his shattered pieces on the floor like he was nothing. He felt his mum comforted him as he saw everyone’s faces had that expression where they really didn’t know what to say to him. 

Because what could they really say after all this?

“What a shame.” Joe’s aunt’s voice echoed in his head. “She would have made a lovely bride.”

More like a runaway bride.

He wrapped his hand around the velvet box in his pocket and gripped it tightly. He wasn’t sure why he still had it. He wasn’t sure what to do with it anymore because what was the point now? As the train finally stopped, Joe quietly followed the crowd out the doors. He wasn’t sure if the silence inside the train was worse than the bustling crowd that was in the station. Either way, it was making him feel frustrated and angry.

He just wanted to scream. 

Joe didn’t want to go home so instead, he opted to go to the pub right by his flat. Maybe a couple pints of beer could get him to sleep tonight if he had enough of it. Entering the crowded pub, he headed towards the bar. He immediately ordered himself a pint and settled into one of the stools. He let his mind wander again towards the memories of them together. All the happy ones and all the times that they fought. Maybe it was just the matter of time that she was going to get tired of him. 

Joe wasn’t surprised anymore. He was a fucking mess. 

An actor, who traveled all the time for work. No one could understand that. No one was able to handle that, and he couldn’t blame her for it because he knew his job wasn’t easy. It wasn’t a normal 9-5, Mondays to Fridays. It was hectic, always in the spotlight and full of different strangers trying to dip their opinions on every move he made. 

“Deep thoughts?” 

Joe’s thoughts were interrupted as he gazed up and saw you. 

A playful smile tugging on your lips and a pint of beer in your hand. You were in a wool coat, nice trousers and a button up shirt. You just left the office and decided that a little drink wouldn’t hurt after a long week. It was a Friday after all, right?

Silence.

Joe didn’t reply to your question as he sipped his drink, but you seemed to be interested in this curly haired, sad man in front of you. 

“You know sometimes…” You added, leaning a bit forward. “They said it’s better to vent to strangers because then, you don’t have to see them after that.”

“Is that so?” Joe finally answered.

You let out a fake gasp, a smile plastered on your face. “Oh, he speaks.”

“He doesn’t speak.” Joe argued. “He also apparently doesn’t know how to propose.”

Joe couldn’t help but think that maybe you were right. It was better to rant to a stranger because London was a big enough city for you two to not run into each other again. Plus, if he kept everything in, he might just finally explode. 

“Oh.” You pout your lips. “She said no?”

“Not ready, she said.” Joe replied.

You nodded your head and took a sip of your drink before saying, “How long?”

“Five years.”

That answer got Joe gulping on the rest of his beer until the glass was empty because five years. Five years, and she wasn’t ready? Maybe he was the problem, and she just couldn’t say it to his face. 

“I’m sorry.” You tutted softly and ordered Joe another drink. “Here… looks like you need more of it.”

You slid the pint of beer towards him. For a moment, Joe stared at the glass in front of him and then his big wet brown eyes gazed up at you. Why were you being so nice to him? Why did you even care about what was happening to him? You were nothing but a stranger, but he couldn’t help but feel comfort in your caring. After all, he had a long day.

An embarrassing one.

“So…” You leaned your chin against the palm of your hand, your eyes sparkling with interest. “Tell me every detail.”

It wasn’t that Joe minded that a stranger was so interested in his personal life because being an actor, everyone seems to be so interested in that anyway. It was just that you seem different. You seem to genuinely want to know and be there for him. He wasn’t sure if it was your brown eyes staring into his or the aura that you were giving out, but he didn’t hesitate to start explaining everything that happened. The whole time, you never interrupted. You never tried to cut him off nor looked bored from all the venting that he started to do. You sat there and actually listened. 

It was in the middle of Joe’s venting where he paused for a moment and realized something. Maybe she was right. Maybe the relationship wasn’t working out because he just now realized that not once has she ever listened to him like this. Just let him vent about his day and be there for him. She never did that. Joe was always the one who tried to be there for her and did the effort in the relationship. She never did. 

“What is it?” You asked the moment Joe paused. 

“I—” He shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

“C’mon, you already told me everything. You can’t stop now.” You chuckled softly. 

“I just realized something…”

You raised your brow, waiting for him to continue. 

“I just realized she never listened to me.” He murmured. “It was always about her. It was always about her never getting what she wanted and how she was never happy with anything.”

You hummed softly. “Sounds like a brat.” You teased.

Joe couldn’t help but smile and laugh softly at your little comment, but he saw how your eyes widened after those words slipped out of your lips. 

“I…I’m sorry…” You stuttered. “I didn’t mean it that way.” 

“No.” Joe laughed. “She was a brat. I agree.” 

You bit your lower lip as you laughed with him. It was the first time you saw him smile the whole night. The sound of his laughter was like music to your ears, and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself that you were able to atleast make him smile and laugh. 

“She was spoiled.” Joe added. “She would throw tantrums whenever she didn’t get what she wanted.”

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head. “And you wanted to marry this child?”

Another joke, another laughter slipped out of Joe. He continued to rant about this woman, and you listened. Another drink was ordered and another laughter slipped out of him as you told him another joke. You didn’t even know this man’s name in front of you, but you liked listening to him. 

Be there for him. 

It was like you two just clicked right away. 

Later that night, Joe had asked you if you wanted to join him outside for a smoke break. You didn’t really smoke, but you went out there with him anyway. You leaned your back against the brick wall, your eyes scanning the empty streets of London as Joe did his thing. You didn’t say one word. You just pulled your coat closer to your chest and gazed up at the starry night sky. 

“I’m Joe, by the way.” He finally introduced himself as he put out his cigarette. 

You introduced yourself to him, and you realized you weren’t strangers anymore. You knew his name. You kept remembering the comment you made to him earlier this evening. How it was better to vent to a stranger because you might never see them again but now, you knew each other’s name. You knew half of his story. 

“What’s your story?” Joe asked, leaning against the brick wall next to you. 

“My story?” You laughed softly. “It’s boring.”

You turned to see Joe staring at you, waiting for you to answer his question. You let out a sigh and turned your body so that you were facing him. Your left shoulder leaning against the brick wall now. 

“Got a big sister, but she lives outside the city. Parents are divorced, I live down the street in a small flat, and I work in a bio lab office.”

“So, you’re a scientist?” Joe smiled.

You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head. “I’m far from that. I just do the paperwork.”

Joe hummed softly. “It definitely sounds boring.” 

You chuckled softly, nudging him with your shoulder softly as you both started walking down the street. Your eyes went back to where Joe’s hand was. Inside his coat pocket again. You have noticed it all night, but you never asked or said anything about how his hand would sometimes slip inside that right pocket, but you knew what it was. You knew what was in there.

“Can I see it?” You finally asked. 

Joe paused in his tracks, another surprise that he noticed about you tonight. You tend to read his mind so well. He didn’t have to ask what you were talking about. Instead, he slipped that red velvet box out of his pocket and handed it to you. Grabbing the box from the palm of his hand, you opened it and gasped softly.

It was stunning. 

“Wow.” You whispered, staring at the shiny ring. 

“It was my grandmother’s.” Joe muttered, his eyes found his feet on the ground. 

“It’s beautiful.” You handed the box back to him. “It deserves to be in the hand of someone that truly loves you.” 

Joe nodded his head and played with the box in his hand again.

“It does.” You smiled, setting your hand over his. “I know it hurts right now, but you will find someone deserving of your love. Someone who would understand every corner of your mind. Someone who would appreciate your efforts and understand that you also have your own career and life. Someone who understands that you are able to balance that.”

Joe’s chocolate button eyes stared into your brown ones for a moment. How were you this wise over these kinds of situations? How were you able to find the right words all the time? How were you able to understand him this much? Joe was with her for five years, and she never was able to understand him. 

“How do you know how to say the right words all the time?” Joe laughed softly. 

“Imagine having to work with the person that left you after four years. After you promised each other that there was no one else.” You said. “Seeing him everyday is like a reminder of what happened. A reminder of the things you two had built together, and it was shattered into a million pieces in just a second. Seeing him be happy with someone else, while you sat there frozen.”  

Joe shook his head. “And you can’t just move into a different job?”

You shrugged and laughed. “I’m petty.” You joked. “But moving out of the job that I love just because of him? That wasn’t going to be enough reason, especially after all the hard work I have put into that career.” 

Joe nodded his head in understanding as you shrugged and smiled at him. “You get wiser though.”

“Well, after our talk tonight, I definitely realized a few things.” Joe gave you a warm smile. 

You smiled and stopped in front of your front steps. “Well, this is me.” 

Joe gazed up to your flat building and back down at you. “Thank you for tonight. Really.”

“You know sometimes, when one door closes, one door opens. They’re never all closed. Sometimes we just don’t see that.” You stated. 

Joe’s eyes scanned you, and he couldn’t help but admire you so much. How smart and confident you were after everything. After having to still even see your ex everyday, you were still very positive about everything. He didn’t even know what he was going to do next after everything. How was he able to go home tonight and get used to the fact that she wasn’t going to be there anymore? 

But you standing there in front of him, another feeling had washed over him. 

Hope. 

Hope that he will be able to get up and move on from this. Seeing you stand in front of him and realizing that you were the one who was able to go through every corner of his dark mind tonight and was still able to stand here in front of him and look at him the same was giving him a different feeling. How could a person that he just met in just a night knew him better than the person he was with for five years? 

Maybe she was right. Joe thought again. 

“You’ll find something real.” He heard her voice echoed through his mind again. 

Maybe she was right. Maybe this was meant to happen.

You watched as Joe stepped closer to you, your breath stopping for a moment. His eyes never left yours and both of your faces only were a few inches far from each other. Your fingers had found the collar of his shirt, gently rubbing the fabric of it. 

“Joe…” You whispered, breath hitching. “I don’t think this is a wise idea after everything.”

Joe bit his lower lip and nodded his head. “Thank you.” He whispered before stepping away from you. 

You gave him a small smile and said, “How about coffee tomorrow?”

“I’d like that.” Joe replied. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You smiled, taking your keys out of your purse. 

You watched Joe walk down your steps and before he could get any further, you exhaled sharply. 

“Joe!” You called out. 

He immediately stopped and turned to you as you ran down the steps with a big smile on your face. You gently leaned in towards him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered before running back to your front door and finally unlocking the door. 

“Goodnight.” Joe smiled, murmuring under his breath. 

He watched you close the door behind you, a small smile tugging on his face. For a moment, he thought about how shitty his day was but then, he also thought about tonight. He may have to come home to an empty flat tonight and feel every emotion wash over him all over again, but he also found that hope in your sparkling eyes tonight. 

As he slid his hands inside his coat pocket, he felt that velvet box again. He gripped it with his hand for a moment and exhaled sharply. 

One day, he knew that this would belong to someone who truly deserved it. Looking over his shoulder, he looked back at your front door and smiled as your voice echoed in his head. 

When one door closes, one door opens. 

The End.

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot

[essycogany]

Hot Take! Nine’s Redemption Arc Was Rushed

I’m usually positive on this blog, but I believe it’s important to have a balance. This’ll be my longest post yet, so buckle your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Quick Positive Points

I like the idea of an antagonistic Tails. Nine’s amazingly voiced by a VA I recognize. His design is awesome. His attitude and sarcasm can be entertaining. Nine saving Sonic’s skin when dealing with the Chaos Council was nice. The scene with Nine and Mr.Doctor Eggman talking about Sonic is one of my favorite moments. The thought of creating robots who look like the other characters as if Nine still wanted friends was neat. (even if he tried to kill with them) And despite my grievances, I thought Nine’s hug with Sonic at the end was adorable. The animation is what helped with that.

Introduction

While I do like Nine, I’m going to talk about my glaring issues with his character development. I can see both sides of the argument, but let me tell you why there’s more proof of Nine not being well written. I will implore you to think for yourselves regardless of what I have to say. We all have our opinions and I’m only here to share mine.

Nine’s Characterization

This is how the fox carry himself throughout the show and why most of it isn’t written well. I’ll state my issues with Sonic in certain moments too.

Season One

Nine’s reasonably defensive at first when Sonic came to his home out of nowhere. He became annoyed by Sonic’s immaturity yet concerned for him once they’re captured. After they meet the Rebels, his sassiness begins to show. Replying “You’re welcome,” after saving Sonic by taking control of Rusty. Having a direct and harsh tone when advising others to take the Chaos Council’s shard. And not seeming to care about the rest of the group who gets trapped with Mr. Doctor Eggman.

Nine: “Sonic we have to get to the core!” “You heard her come on!” This I understand because Nine doesn’t know them, so they don’t really matter to him. But then Nine dismisses Sonic’s feelings even after he asked “are you okay?” Because he noticed the hedgehog was a little off.

-Because Sonic started remembering the events that happened to him before he broke the Paradox Prism.

After Sonic realized the prism shattering was his fault Nine says, “Snap back to reality! Grab that shard and we’ll sort the rest out later!” Then when Sonic stated the original Tails told him not to touch it Nine states, “Well, I’m telling you the opposite! Now grab it and let’s go!” Not realizing if Sonic is the reason for the prism being small, his original variant might’ve known touching it was a bad idea. I also can’t forget about these lines.

Sonic: “If there’s anyone who’s got the brains to put it all back together, it’s you.” Nine: “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.” Nice ego for a person who ends up getting Sonic sucked up by the prism after being warned. Back to what I was saying before, Nine seems to only care about stealing the shard away from the Eggmen here. Which is proven later on in season one. His care for Sonic has progressed, but Sonic learns from the Rebels that Nine abandoned them. And it’s never addressed by Sonic.

-Sonic also insist Nine’s “not a traitor” without any proof. Sonic hasn’t known Nine that long. The last time Sonic saw the fox, he ended up getting the hedgehog sucked into another shatterspace. Unless Sonic’s talking about Nine working with the group. But I’d argue it was more for Sonic and his own sake. Especially since Nine left the Rebels and Rusty at the drop of a hat.

When Nine comes to help Sonic, he shows off the Grim and discuss how it’s “Their bright new future.” Wanting to live in the Grim with Sonic. Even after the last time he saw Sonic, Nine knew how distraught Sonic felt about losing his home. Again, Sonic stated he believed Nine could put the prism back together. Meaning his original friends and world would come back. But Nine immediately assumes Sonic would be happy living with him for the rest of his life. Which is sweet on paper but very messed up in execution. I’ll get into why later. To be fair, Nine’s never had a friend before and was bullied for most of his life. His social skills aren’t the best and he isn’t use to caring about others. But even if Nine didn’t understand empathy, he has no reason to believe Sonic would forget about his home just because Nine didn’t care about his.

Nine: “That city hasn’t brought me anything but misery. I owe it nothing.” He hasn’t been around Sonic for long either, but Sonic’s demonstrated his loyalty before. By worrying about the Rebels instead of the shard while Nine did vise versa. Anyways, Sonic explains he needs to save the Rebels. Nine being Nine didn’t care about them, but came to help anyways because he “cared about Sonic.” I’d say Nine only helped because he thought Sonic would join him after getting the other shards, but that’s my opinion.

Nine: “With enough fortifications and enough shard energy, this could be home.” Because of this line, I believe he already knew about the other shards before Sonic. Which is also why he knew what Sonic was doing in season two. He also says, “When this is over, I’m going home and never looking back. Whether I go it alone is entirely up to you.” Still assuming things.

-Sonic doesn’t give Nine an answer for some reason. Only responding with “I knew you’d come back, buddy.” Projecting how he’d expect Tails to act. Which becomes a serious problem later.

Season Two

Throughout this season, Nine helped Sonic collect the shards. Which was a bonus to keep developing the Grim.

-Sonic and the Rebels have another debate on trusting Nine. At least this time when Sonic says “He saved you,” it’s true. Nine took down the Doctors before Sonic and co got killed. I’d still argue it was for Sonic, but Nine still saved their lives despite his intentions.

I’ll also admit when Mr.Doc used Nine, it was reasonable for him to feel as if he had no choice. He even apologizes to Sonic. We even learn how Nine first fount the Grim and see him make a hammock for Sonic. But the positives goes down hill once we get into the shard chase between Nine, Sonic, and the villains. Once away from the Docs Sonic stated, “Oh, things are finally coming together. We’ve got the shards! We can finally fix everything!” He’s still obviously talking about Green Hill and his friends. But Nine doesn’t notice this. Instead he says, “It’s going to be perfect.” Very specific you two. Nine seems to suddenly believe Sonic changed his mind and Sonic still thinks Nine and Tails are one and the same.

Dude even calls the fox “Tails Nine,” while introducing him to another character. What are the odds? Later on Nine says, “If you like surprises, wait until you see what I’ve got going on in the Grim.” Sonic responds with, “Grim? Cool. Can’t wait to here more. But right now, we’ve gotta get to Ghost Hill.” Talking as if if the Grim was an afterthought. Then the two talk about bringing the prism back together without knowing what the other’s thoughts were behind it.

Even if they didn’t have time to discuss things, I think they should’ve explained something to each other during the chase or before Sonic left to help the Rebels in S1. That way the unfortunate occurrence could’ve been avoided later on, but we’ll cross that bridge soon enough. Anyways, after the goose chase, they meet up with Shadow, who reasonably doesn’t trust Nine.

-The Blue blur defended the fox again with his projecting his friends onto strangers self. It’s also weird how often this dude doesn’t listen to anyone while also wondering why no one won’t listen to him.

After Nine put one of the shards back together and it brought everything back for a split second. Sonic: “Reality was flipping out over here.” “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Which must’ve went in and out of Nine’s ears because this show has no time for the characters to communicate properly. Instead of listening, Nine interrupts the hedgehog and shenanigans ensues.

After said shenanigans, another argument scene happens. Except somehow, it’s worsts then the last. I’ll criticize both characters. I want to address the “Sonic projecting” discussion first. I know people think Sonic’s wrong for doing it (he is) but I believe he’s doing it as a coping mechanism. Since his friends are replaced by ghost who repeat themselves and a bunch strangers who look like them, he might not be able to help it. I give him a bit of slack because we all know what he’s been through. Prime!Sonic is also a very sincere version of Sonic who instantly feels guilt. Even if he doesn’t completely understand what he did wrong.

For example, in the first episode, Tails didn’t tell Sonic why he was upset with him. He just said, “It’s cool really.” Tails brushes things off instead of discussing them. I can see where Sonic is coming from. What I won’t excuse is Sonic having a terrible amount of trust in Nine. I’ll discuss this in S3’s issues. And the rest I’ll summon up to Sonic never addressing problems which might’ve needed to be addressed. Like Green Hill almost coming back and other stuff I’ve already mentioned. Onto the fox. This argument might be a great time for Nine to explain what his plans are instead of saying, “We’re not making your old world. We’re building a better one.” Implying Sonic’s original world is inferior and he should deal with it being gone.

When Sonic says, “I think we can get it back.” Nine responds with, “You’re wrong about that.” Despite Sonic in the same episode said minutes before, “Green Hill was back and so were my friends.” Did the fox forget? Is he lying? Or does he not care? I’ll go with the writers forgetting about this line since it never gets mentioned again. Which seems to be a trope in this show. I understand Sonic’s done plenty of wrong when it comes to Nine as well, but I don’t see how Sonic wanting to fix the problem he made in the first place as selfish. Especially since Sonic’s not the only one who wants Green Hill back. Shadow’s dealing with the consequences too.

The “what’ll happen to me when you bring your friends back,” issue is never explored. There’s no confirmation on what happens, so this comment basically means nothing. Also, Sonic living with Nine forever is messed up. It implies Sonic and Shadow never going home. And their friends would stay ghost forever. Dead to be specific. Not to mention Nine’s home would be a copy of what Sonic use to have. You’re telling me Sonic The Hedgehog would allow his freedom to end because of a self centered fox who wouldn’t care if he wanted to go home? I could continue, but I’ll stop here. In the end, Sonic and Nine were both wrong. You could argue Sonic never said “no” to staying with Nine, but Sonic saying in S1,”It’s not going anywhere,” was all Nine needed to hear. Sonic thinking Nine would love Tails and discussing Green Hill was prominent when talking to Nine before getting to Ghost Hill too. Dude was completely set on getting home and he wasn’t subtle about it.

To be fair again, Nine hasn’t been in enough good relationships to know who to trust Then finds someone he thinks he can trust. Then gets treated like a reflection of someone else instead of a different person entirely. This goes to show I actually don’t hate the idea of the miscommunication. I only feel the show doesn’t give them enough time to breathe and only focuses on rushing the plot. Therefore having contradictions and forced conflicts.

Season 3

Nine’s first statement in this season is, “This could’ve been everything he ever wanted.” I wish Sonic had a moment to explain why creating a new world is a nice but bad idea. That way Nine could get a better understanding of how close Sonic is to his home and friends. Giving it a sense of importance.He could choose to stay selfish or to be reasonable.Nine tries to capture Sonic in order to get his shard energy throughout S3. In the next scene Shadow says, “So, it was all about power?” (Shadow is the MVP of this entire show) Then Sonic defends Nine for the millionth time.

Sonic: “No, that’s not…” Nine: “Exactly!” Wonderful.

Moving on. Sonic tries to reason with Nine again. Nine: “You were only using me to get what you wanted.” Sonic: “That’s not true.” The hedgehog doesn’t elaborate before or after this conversation. I love how the two barely have a coherent conversation. It’s honestly my favorite thing in the world.

-Sonic tells Shadow if reasoning with Nine doesn’t work, he’ll be “their’s.” Probably implying they’ll have to hurt or kill Nine if necessary. Then Sonic never fallows through with it and doesn’t actually fight Nine. Sonic only uses his shield powers or tries to convince others not to hurt the fox.

After that Nine tries to attack both hedgehogs with a robot copy of Sonic and states, “This time, you’re on your own.” Shadow: “He’s not on his own” Nine: “We’re all on our own.” Describing his perception on loyalty is a detail I actually like.

Later in the season Nine tries to disrupt the bystanders worlds to get Sonic, so they disrupt their agreement. Nine attempts to kill them again and wonders why they wanted to protect Sonic. Almost as if Sonic has been helping them since the fox met him or something.

After constant fighting and begging on Sonic’s part, he tells Nine to, “LOOK OUTSIDE!” And that’s when Nine at last sees the shatterverse breaking and realizes what he’s done. All of this mess lasted 7 episodes by the way. The big fight took up 6 of them. Nine knew beforehand the shatterverse was ending and it didn’t phase him as long as his world was safe. Now he suddenly he feels guilty?

Sonic apologizes because he didn’t listen to what Nine wanted. Or appreciate what he was trying to do. This is Sonic’s words not mine. Nine doesn’t apologize for trying to kill everyone, but to Sonic instead. Sonic asked everyone to leave Nine alone. And asked Nine to not cause anymore trouble. Knucks: “How can we trust him?” Nine: “You can trust me.” Outstanding dialogue. Plot needs to occur, so we’ll skip the part where Nine and everyone else gains trust in a none forced way. Great.

Nine finally helps Sonic even if those problems could’ve been avoided a few episodes earlier and say their goodbyes. The End.

I hate how Sonic had to apologize to Nine about wanting to go home. It’s absolutely unfair. Then Nine doesn’t apologize to everyone else for the havoc he’s caused. What I believe Sonic should’ve apologized for was treating Nine like Tails, but it never gets brought up. But my biggest issue is the only way Sonic called out Nine on his actions was by saying, “This isn’t you!” “Don’t do this!” “ “I care about all of this. You, the shatterverse, and everyone inside of it. I know you do to.” The last bit being a huge lie.

I don’t make these kind of comparisons often, but Game!Sonic would have everything nipped in the bud. I’d assume by telling Nine, “What you’re doing is wrong. This is why it’s wrong. If you don’t quit, I’ll do everything in my power to make you quit.” He’d understand Nine needed to be stoped and act accordingly. I’d assume everyone would have to make him surrender and he’d be force to fix everything. No, it doesn’t reform him, but I wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t get reformed because sometimes you can’t change people. This might not have been the perfect solution, but I tried. Yes, Nine is a child who was treated terribly, but it shouldn’t excuse his actions.

What’s hilarious is during his last talk with Sonic, he unreasonably guilts the hedgehog and called him selfish. Saying Sonic didn’t save everyone because he actually cared about them. But because Sonic feels guilty about breaking everything from the start. Except Sonic actually admits to messing up which was shown in the third episode of Prime. And took the time to right his wrongs. It’s the most hypocritical and short sided statement in the entire show. And if that wasn’t enough, Nine gets upset when everyone came to attack him. It admittedly was a dumb idea, but Nine made himself the enemy. He didn’t give the gang a reason to trust him before or after his deal with Sonic. Yes, including the end of the show. It made no sense.

Why Nine’s Reformation Was Rushed

First of all, I’m not saying I don’t like Nine because of his negative traits. That’s the main reason he exists. He’s a antagonistic or I’d even say evil version of Tails. Nine is suppose to be distant, selfish, and such. I simply don’t believe after all he’s done and how his character was established that he suddenly changed into a good guy.

Nine’s focus was on his own pain. As he ignored everyone else’s. Including the one person who saved his life on multiple occasions and who (even if it’s wrong) still tried to stick up for him. Giving off the, “I suffered so everyone else should suffer,” mentality. Then blames Sonic by saying he, “put him into this position.” As if Nine didn’t already make terrible choices before going evil. Sure, the shards could’ve been corrupting him, but it’s never explored and can only be assumed. Which are too different things.

These are obvious toxic/red flag behavior and it never gets properly called out. Things are only fixed because the plot demanded it. Not because there was a natural progression. The only thing that progressed was Nine’s uncaring attitude until it magically fixed itself…at the last minute. And I hate that for him because he deserved better. Sonic deserved better. All of the Sonic Prime characters deserved better. But they all fell into the pit of unsatisfying conclusions.

Side Note: What also bothers me is how Sonic is almost the only character Nine interacts with. No wonder he doesn’t care about anyone else. Nine barely talks to anyone. Like Shadow, the blue blur is the main center of Nine’s attention. At least most of the other characters don’t have the same problem, but it’s still ridiculous.

How The Show Is Flawed In General

I have more glaring issues with this show. Sonic Prime’s plot almost never stops to breathe. The repetition is unreal. None of the characters (especially the OGs) get enough attention. Some things are both over and under explained simultaneously. There’s reused animations.

Reused conversations and dialogue are especially prevalent. “This isn’t you, Nine!” “It’s over, Nine.” “Gotta go fast!” “Game over.” “We’re gonna end/fix this together.” “We’re friends.” “Me Beauty.” “We have to take the fight to them.” “You’re even dumber then you look.”

This isn’t half of the repeated lines unfortunately. Some of them aren’t only said by Sonic either. It’s almost as if they ran out of dialogue. I am only scratching the surface of problems, but I won’t go any further. At this point “the show’s writing” is the main issue of Nine’s arc. It’s also why other parts of Prime feels rushed.

Conclusion

Yeah, I have a love hate relationship with this show. It’s seriously hard to watch sometimes. I know this has been a bummer, but here’s what Sonic Prime does right. I adore Sonic Prime in terms of how it looks and sounds. With the outstanding animation, voice acting, music, editing, and sound design. I’ll even say it’s one of the best looking 3D animated kids TV shows I’ve seen. There’s so much attention to detail and quality of the character facial expressions and movements. Furthermore, when the lighting is really good, it looks near movie levels of quality. Not to mention great writing still exists. All in all, Sonic Prime may not be the best written Sonic show, but it does have the most polished animation. Even with its plethora of flaws and lost potential, I’m glad Prime exists to prove 3D TV shows can look fantastic when given enough care.

Stay Creative! 💜

[mondaymelon]

𖥔 ݁ ˖⩇⩇:⩇𝟣.𖥔 ݁ ˖

⤷ a halloween event hosted by @mondaymelon !!

taglist: @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @silaswritesthings, @neigesprincess, @mintydump, @kaeffeinee !!

“...That’s the briefing. Any questions?” Sango uncrossed her arms, glancing up from the paper she was reading off of. It was a chilly evening at the Bantan Sango Detective Agency, and you regretted not bringing an extra layer of clothing with you to work.

You sighed, your exhale turning white in the frosty air. The sky had already blended black, tiny pin pricks of bright stars resembling white paint scattered on a midnight canvas hung like a dusty backdrop. The days had been growing colder of late, and the maple leaves that loosely clung to the trees now blanketed the cobblestone streets. “Typical of you to hand me over to some tiring task right before the festival… that other guy, genius detective Shikanoin Heizou, why not ask him instead and spare me the trouble?”

The brunette’s expression grew strained. “You know I don’t talk to him anymore. Besides, he quit a long time ago. He works for the Tenryou commission now, and I hear that quite the skilled man. Wherever he is, he always finds a way to boast about him, I suppose…” Her voice trailed off with an exasperated groan. “It doesn’t matter. Are you going to take the job or not?”

“Do I really have a choice?” Judging by her scammer-like smile, you already knew the answer before you asked the question.

“Nope.” And just like that, she thrusted the manila folder of information into your arms, several pieces of paper flying out of it in the process. “Have fun, I’ll see you at the Halloween Festival later!” She sprinted away before you could even get in another word.

As expected. Sango was rather stone-faced, yet she only grew more and more animated as you got to know her. You didn’t know exactly what happened between her and that redhead detective, but you weren’t one to pry for details the other wasn’t willing to provide. Besides, you still had Ryuuji to pester for help… not. He had long since gone home for a weekend vacation.

“This is why I’m miserable.” You shook your head, reluctantly glancing through the information in the files given.

[ 48 missing people.

No attacks on children. Prime targets seem to be young adults regardless of gender.

Only three bodies have been retrieved.

Bodies are drained of blood. Puncture wounds in neck. Inscriptions on body...

Last event was Oct 24. Tanaka Oda, aged 24. Inferred to have gone missing at night. Had gambling problems but otherwise was a clean slate. ]

“Shit, this sounds like something from a legend… couldn’t these just be wild animal attacks?” You examined the photos, spotting the sunken eyes and dry flesh. “Ah, but unless it was an 8 foot tall bat… and the runes. How the fuck would a bat write? The work of a cult, maybe? Human sacrifice has been a thing before, and that would certainly explain the markings on the corpses, would it not…?” You didn’t have enough evidence to come to conclusions now, nor the sufficient amount of sleep. You had never exactly been the most intelligent, which made you question why Sango had even assigned this case to you in the first place. To give it to the least capable detective in the workforce must’ve meant that it must be an insignificant mystery, right? Then it’d only be a while until all the threads came unraveled. That, at the very least, provided you with a sense of comfort.

That sensation was a fleeting one, shattered by the shrill cry of a woman in the distance. High-pitched. Terrified. You snapped your head up, hastily shoving the evidence in your arm and sprinting towards the sound. It happened again, a broken cry piercing through the misty night. Smoky tendrils swirled in the air and curled around your ankles.

Where had the civilians gone? There wasn't a soul in sight. There were no lights in the windows. Food stands were left unattended as smoke rose from their stoves.

You pulled out into a clearing. There she was. She couldn't have been more than twenty years of age, her paper-white skin contrasting with the pink on her cheeks. Her kimono was strewn, creased as if someone had grabbed her with force. You could see the blood seeping from the bite wound on her neck. Her skin was icy cold. Her pulse had gone dead.

No. Not a wild animal.

This... A word, one spoken in storybooks, flashed in your mind.

There wasn't time to dwell on it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. There was someone. In the alleyway. They had seen everything.

"Huk...!"

He made a sound, then his body crumpled to the ground.

His inanimate corpse glowed with a sinister energy. Lines of foreign words circling around his arms and chest blazed forth, shining a deep red against the black night. A tongue you couldn't comprehend. A forgotten, ancient language that had long since been buried.

His body gave a spasm, shaking. It was as if he was a doll, and his joints creaked and groaned as they bent in upon themselves. Where his heart should have resided instead was a crystal-cut ruby, quivering in the open air. His eyes bulged, and then they were no longer there, bursting into a fountain of red. Then, he stilled.

He didn't move again.

Silence. Suffocating. There was something building in the back of your throat. You could taste the bitter bile on your tongue.

"F...Fuck."

Two bodies, cruelly bent and misshapen. The woman in the clearing, the blood pooling from her wounds growing cold. Her face was an almost ashen gray, and her dead marble eyes stared blankly into the sky. What was there to look at?

Then, the man. Twisted arms hung morbidly from his frame. His bloody, mangled sockets lay bare as they gazed at nothing at all. His bloodied body slowly dissipated as ashes in the wind. It was the smell of iron.

You exhaled a shallow breath. You could feel the tremble of your hands as you held them over your mouth. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit. You wanted to scream, cry. You shouldn't. You couldn't.

Droplets of crimson lay scattered on the ground. A trail of blood.

Blackened remains of the cursed. A trail of his ashes.

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ.

next

[weirdozjunkary]

I need to share my two cents on Prime!Sonic because I feel that he’s getting unnecessary hate from people (mild spoilers for season 2)

First off, I get it if you don’t like him for your own reasons. How he talks, how he acts, what he looks like, ETC. I am in no way judging you for your own opinion

What I hate about this is people saying that he is ‘not sonic’. He doesn’t act like how sonic would be. I’ve seen people say he rude or selfish, and I feel that they’re comparing him too much with his other selves.

Sonic Prime isn’t game sonic; despite the creators saying it’s ‘as close to cannon as it gets’. Sonic Prime isn’t the same as Cannon Sonic. The only reason why the series is ‘close to cannon’ is the fact that we have badniks, rings, power ups, ETC; things from the games. That’s the only thing that is like cannon in the story

But for Prime!Sonic’s character… he IS not sonic, not the one like his game counter part. BUT I think he is not far off from the original. Yes, he doesn’t act like his cannon self, but I think that’s kind of the point? I am a little biased, I love a characterization like this on him, I love me a little bastard. But to me, Prime!Sonic is more of a parody than the real deal. Similar to how Sonic Boom was. An over exaggeration of his character.

Now, yes, I agree that how he acts is… weird. He doesn’t listen to his friends, he messes things up greatly, he causes a lot of problems for himself and others. But I think that this kind of characterization is sort of a… reset of his character? At least for the story. It’s a character arc, the whole show is a character arc for him. We’re seeing a version of sonic grow from start to finish.

This idea is most prevalent in the episode ‘double trouble’, he says in response to Chaos Sonic annoying him: “Ugh. If I’m half as annoying as this guy, I really need to make some changes.”

And while I know that he does come off as selfish and rude, I think those words are a little harsh for him.

He isn’t selfish and rude, he’s dumb and impulsive. He leaps before he looks and assumes by only what he sees in front of him. Even in the final episode he assumes that Nine would be even just a smidge like his Tails, the ‘real’ Tails, but he ISNT Tails, he is Nine.

But the whole thing about all of this, is that he is learning. Shadow calls him out on trusting the fox to much, Rebel- heck- everyone says he comes to cause trouble, and they’re right, he does.

From what I’ve seen from the start of season 1 to the end of season 2, I have seen this hedgehog learn through his mistakes, even just slightly. Remember, each season is like 8 episodes. Pretty much right after his tussle with Chaos Sonic, you can see him become a little less annoying and a little more serious. He’s still a little shit, but he’s working to lessen that so things like this doesn’t happen again.

And for his actions towards people. One prevalent example I’ve heard people complain about is that he goes in for affection, when cannon sonic doesn’t do that. And while they are right, I think him going in for his hug with Shadow and Nine make sense for the story.

During the events of Prime, Sonic has been more or less alone, not truly alone, but alone. He has his friends stripped from him, distorted into alternate versions of themselves that have no idea who he is. And this, seeing all of this, it’s hurting him. He wants his friends back, he wants them to be fixed and everything to be back to normal. But right now they aren’t, and it’s getting harder for him to let go of that (proof with his thoughts on Nine).

When he sees Shadow again, he thinks he’s like the others, some other version of him that somehow came into the void with him through one of the Shatter spaces. But when he realizes that he remembers him, that he is the real shadow, he is absolutely ecstatic. FINALLY someone who hasn’t changed, someone who isn’t split into three or more other versions of himself, finally he has the real deal.

I view him hugging shadow out of pure joy and impulse, grabbing onto him and hugging him because finally he has someone who remembers their world before it was broken. Plus, I think Sonic is a tiny bit more physical with Shadow anyways (mostly through violence). I think he’d straight out hug whoever else was in shadows position if they also were the ‘original’ version of themselves.

In conclusion; I think that this little dumb fucker is getting too much hate and too much comparison to his cannon counterpart when he isn’t his cannon counterpart, mostly because the creators said that this show is very cannon accurate, when there’s only a few things to be cannon.

Criticize him all you want, I know I do. But don’t shit on him just cause he does things OOC when (at least I think) that’s not the point of him in the show.

Damn, that was a lot of writing. I just really like this dork

[mint-yooxgi]

{11} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 10,076

Warnings: A lot more angst than normal, one line that could be interpreted as suicidal thoughts, talks of past toxic relationships. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I have finished editing it!! I tried not to miss anything, but please excuse any mistakes that still come through. I hope you enjoy, I definitely, didn’t see this chapter taking the turn it did when I was planning for it. Hehehe, a lot happens. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Mini Masterlist

“What do you mean, ‘she got away’?” Seonghwa is this close to losing it on the younger demon right now as he leans against the wall for support, attempting to maintain his breathing for the time being.

Currently, the eight of them all find themselves spread out around the dining room conversing about the turn of events earlier in the day. Frowns reside on all of their faces, snarls beginning to tug at their lips.

“Exactly what I said,” Yeosang sighs, exasperatedly. “I scoured that entire mall from top to bottom thrice looking for her, but she had long since vacated the premises. I even scouted with the animals in the area, but nothing.”

“I should have torn her apart right where she stood, witnesses be damned,” Hongjoong growls, eyes shifting black along with his brothers for a brief moment.

“Believe me, we all wanted to tear her apart,” the glass held in San’s hand shatters as he tightens his grip, shards raining onto the floor at his feet.

“As much as I agree, and despite the conversation we had with our beloved earlier, I think ripping apart another person whom she believes to be an innocent bystander right in front of her very eyes would not have been favourable for us.” Jongho voices. “She’s already upset at us from the argument. Doing something like that might have made her never trust us again, even if we explained it to her right afterwards.”

“Jongho’s right,” Yunho sighs, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “We’re going to need to tell her the truth.”

“Yeah, let’s just go up to our beloved while she’s still mad at us, and upset from what her friend said before we left, and just dump this information on her.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Like, “hey, Gorgeous. So, an ex of mine, San’s, Hongjoong’s, and Mingi’s is still in love with us and hates your guts. She has control over your best friend’s mind right now, and knows who you are. Oh, and silly me, did I mention she wants to completely eviscerate you?” He scoffs, “yeah, I’m sure that will go over well.”

“Well, maybe don’t phrase it like that,” Mingi huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“How else would you suggest we deal with this, then?” San shoots a pointed look at the taller male before crouching down to clean up the broken glass at his feet.

“I think apologizing to her would be a good start.” Mingi narrows his eyes back at the other male, the two holding each other’s gazes for a moment.

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, running a hand through his hair. “As far as she’s concerned, our behaviour was sudden and uncalled for. If we hadn’t scented Miyeon earlier we would have had no issue letting her go off by herself for an hour with her friend.”

“Speak for yourself,” Seonghwa mumbles, a puff of air escaping him.

“We all have difficulties being away from her for any period of time,” Jongho reminds the eldest. “It’s not just you, Hwa.”

“You’re telling me none of you would have taken issue with that fact?” Seonghwa quirks a brow at all of his brothers standing around him. At the way his brothers remain silent, he huffs. “That’s what I thought.”

“Do you not trust her?” Yeosang rounds on the eldest, fingers biting into the skin of his arms as he holds them crossed over his chest. He’s already wound from not being able to obliterate Miyeon earlier like he so desired, and hearing his brother be a smartass right now isn’t helping.

“Of course, I trust her.” Seonghwa replies, appalled he would even need to be asked that question. “It’s others that I don’t trust around her.”

“Watch how you speak, brother,” Yunho’s tone is dark, a threatening growl on his tongue. “We might think you’re referring to us.”

The two males glare at each other, snarls tugging at their lips as the eldest takes a step towards Yunho in challenge, both of their gazes bleeding black.

“Enough,” Hongjoong shoots a pointed look at either male, “the both of you.”

“This is exactly what Miyeon wants,” Jongho states, looking around the room at each of his brothers. “This is all just some sick, twisted game to her. To have us infighting with one another lowers our defences, so she can sneak right in and claim her prize.”

“To think that this is the ending to the day that we had,” Wooyoung cradles his head in his hands as he leans forward in his seat. “Is it always going to be three steps forward, and one step back?”

“No,” Hongjoong shakes his head. “It won’t always be like this.”

“How can you be so sure?” Mingi voices almost all of their thoughts, all of them turning to look at their Captain with despair in their eyes.

“You were all there,” Hongjoong breathes out. “You felt her emotions just as I did when she opened her mind to us at that table. We all felt that fondness she has for us building beneath the surface.”

“Today proved just how much progress we’ve been making,” Yunho confirms.

“She opened up to us.” San leans against the wall for support as he thinks back to the way you held his hand. Not once, but twice. His skin begins to tingle, the ghost of your touch lingering against his own. “She wanted to know more about us, too.”

“Exactly,” Hongjoong nods. “You all felt her emotions. She can’t fake that.”

A small silence settles over all of them as they let their memories of that discussion at that table with you flood their minds. Their hearts swell, warmth blooming in their chests as nothing but pure fondness and love swims through their veins. Today meant so much to them. More than you’ll ever know.

Just then, a soft mewl draws their attention to a little black kitten who attempts to jump on top of one of the dining room chairs, only to fall right back down to the ground. A whine of complaint leaves his lips, turning his head as his wide, golden eyes scan the room, locking onto the closest male.

“Who…?” Yeosang’s inquiry dies in his throat as he sees the kitten on the ground before him.

In an instant, Kuroo has trotted over to Mingi, rubbing himself against the male’s leg before said man is leaning down to pick him up. As soon as the kitten is in his arms, Mingi begins scratching his chin.

Mingi meets Yeosang’s gaze. “I did. I just thought it best not to overwhelm her since we got back. I didn’t want her to think that any of us were trying to win her affection back with apology gifts. Not that I need to apologize.”

Yeosang nods softly, silently agreeing with the taller male as four others shift slightly in their spots.

“Where is she now?” Seonghwa voices the question on all of their minds.

“In her room,” Yunho supplies, a gentle smile pulling at his features. “Sleeping.”

“She’s had a long day,” Jongho sighs, wanting nothing more than to join you; to pull you in close as he wraps his arms around you, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. A heart which beats only for you.

“Let her rest,” Wooyoung voices softly. “She needs it.”

“There’s a few things we need to do before tomorrow, anyways.” Seonghwa shares a look with all of them, of which they understand immediately.

First things first, they’re going to fortify their wards and barriers to their domain to make sure Miyeon cannot get in. Then, they’re going to start attempting to track her down. Not only do they want to eradicate her, eliminating that threat from you, but they also figure that they should free Reina’s mind from her control. It’s what you would want them to do, anyways.

“Tomorrow, we,” Hongjoong shoots a pointed look at Seonghwa, San, and Jongho, ”will also apologize to her for the way that we acted, and what we said today.”

“It’s been on my mind since it happened,” San admits remorsefully, looking down at his feet.

“Good.” Yeosang comments with a firm nod of his head.

“As it should be.” Yunho adds, shooting a pointed look towards the eldest as he says this.

“Who’s going to tell her about Miyeon?” Wooyoung sighs, looking up at his brothers standing around the room before him.

“I will.” Hongjoong states, somewhat nervously. “Though if things go badly, I’ll need all of you to help me.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jongho smiles reassuringly at their leader, followed immediately by the others.

“Let’s just make sure we don’t fuck up this badly again,” Seonghwa sighs, pushing himself off of the wall he had been leaning against for support.

“Agreed.” A unanimous chorus echoes around the room from all of them.

In the blink of an eye, all eight males are dispersing, going to check on each of their own personal wards that they’ve placed around their domain. Then, once that has been completed, they add more. Just in case.

Like hell are they letting Miyeon anywhere near you again.

The next morning, you wake up to a slight headache. You weren’t able to sleep very well overnight: restless as you tossed and turned through what little bouts of sleep you managed to get. What little light that filters through your curtains has you rubbing at your eyes, irritated by the intrusion.

Letting out a sigh, you toss the covers off of your body, deciding to at least freshen up for the day. Like hell are you changing out of your sweats, though. Once you’ve completed your morning routine, you’re making your way, quite sluggishly, to the closest kitchen for some breakfast.

As soon as you step through the threshold to see a particular demon standing behind the counter, you’re nearly turning around immediately. You don’t want to deal with him right now. Only, that familiar twisting of your stomach in hunger pulls you into the room, and you know that he’d just teleport to the other kitchen by the time you walked there, anyways. Besides, you run the risk of seeing the other three you don’t really want to at the moment, especially if you step into their territory.

The way San’s eyes light up as soon as he sees you, despite the somewhat wary smile that tugs at his lips, is instantaneous.

“Good morning, baby,” he greets, somewhat tentatively.

You walk past him and to the fridge, sparing nothing but a disinterested side glance in his direction as you do.

San’s heart squeezes in his chest, hating the way he knows that he deserves how cold you’re being to him this morning. His hand begins to shake as he balances himself on the counter for support.

“There’s some fresh fruit for you in the fridge,” he tries again, noting how you open said object in the next second.

Sure enough, when you pull open the one side of the fridge, you see the glass bowl of fresh fruit practically glaring at you from the shelf directly at eye level. You let out a sigh through your nose, reaching inside the fridge in the next moment.

San’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you do so. From the angle he’s standing at, he cannot tell what you’re grabbing. All he does know, is that he hopes beyond anything that it’s the bowl of fruit he spent this morning cutting up for you. He knows how much you enjoy fresh fruit, especially in the morning, and he wanted to use it as a way to apologize. Thus, if you pull back with that peace offering held in your hands, he knows then that things aren’t as bad as they seem.

Only, when you pull your hand back for him to see only a yogurt held in your grip, his expression falls. That blazing hope he had so desperately been holding onto dwindles down to small embers, the all too familiar feeling of fresh tears springing to his eyes.

The sound of the fridge door practically slamming shut echoes like a final condemnation throughout the room. The feeling is only emphasized by the way you sit at the counter on the furthest stool away from him, not even sparing him another glance after grabbing yourself a spoon.

“You don’t know how remorseful I am, baby,” his gentle voice cuts through the tense silence surrounding the two of you. “If I could take it all back in an instant, I would.”

He hears the way you let out another long breath through your nose, your throat bobbing as you swallow in the next second.

San moves closer hesitantly, as if approaching a wounded animal that could lash out at him at any moment. His eyes are sorrowful, expression downcast as he comes to stand right across from you, only the counter separating the both of you. Still, you refuse to even meet his gaze.

“Baby, please,” his voice cracks, choking on his emotions as the first tear spills onto his cheek. “Please, look at me.”

“Stop calling me that.” Your voice is firm as your brow furrows in discontent, and he recoils in shock.

“Baby-“

“Do you think you deserve to get to call me that right now?” Finally, you meet his gaze, and the intensity he sees swimming behind your eyes has his breath hitching in his throat.

Even during those first two weeks of you staying with them you never reacted like this whenever he called you ‘baby’. Sure, you might have looked at him in irritation when he let the pet name slip a few times, but it was never this.

“Then, tell me,” he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. “Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

You say nothing for the moment, letting the silence settle around the both of you once more. You can feel his stare locked onto you, noticing how his fingers cling onto the edge of the countertop for dear life. A tear falls onto the top of his hand in the next second, but he makes no move to wipe it away.

In the next moment, Jongho appears in the kitchen beside you. “Darling, are you okay?”

He reaches out for you like he always does when he greets you in the kitchen during the morning. Only, before he can so much as place his hand onto your back, you stiffen.

“Don’t touch me.” 

Your voice is the coldest it’s ever been towards the youngest since arriving here. A fact which makes him recoil from you, as if burned. His expression falls.

Instantly, the two others whom you didn’t want to see yet today are in the room, worry on their features.

“What’s going on?” It’s Hongjoong who poses the question, a slight crease to his brow. Except, he gets completely ignored for the moment as you shut your eyes in clear annoyance. 

You really don’t want to deal with them all today.

“Darling, please-“

“You don’t get to call me that right now.” Your eyes flash open, looking at the stunned demon standing beside you.

“My Love-“

“No.” Your burning gaze is on Hongjoong in an instant. “None of you deserve that privilege of calling me as you please. Not after the stunt you pulled yesterday.”

“We regret our misstep more than you know,” Seonghwa voices, taking a step towards you, but at the harsh way you glare at him, he retreats for the moment.

“What can we do?” Hongjoong’s voice is merely a whisper, his expression reflecting nothing but the pain he feels suffocating his heart at this very moment at the way you’ve closed yourself off from all of them again. “What can we do to prove to you how remorseful we are?”

You inhale a deep sigh, feeling all of their saddened gazes on you for the moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho shed a tear.

Clutching at the spoon firmly in your one hand, you bring your other one up to rub at the bridge of your nose. Closing your eyes for the moment, you lean against the counter using your one elbow. In the second it takes for you to motion to all of them with your spoon, pointing at the space opposite the counter where San still stands, they’ve moved. As soon as you remove your hand from your nose, your lids fall open to see them all facing you, heads downcast as shame washes over them.

“Do you understand why I’m no longer comfortable around any of you four right now?” You question.

Their expressions fall even further, the tears falling freely down both San’s and Jongho’s cheeks as they all remain silent in front of you for the time being. 

“You decided to attempt to control me.” You begin. “Was everything you said to me at that table a lie? Do I truly not get to retain my autonomy with you? Is it all just an illusion? Something you’ll use to paint a pretty picture of delusion with in order for me to stay with you all willingly?”

“No, please, that’s not-“

“I’m not finished.” You immediately cut Seonghwa off, your eyes narrowing at the eldest who stands the furthest away from you at the opposite corner of the counter. “I do not need your permission to spend time with my friends, or my family for that matter. You do not get to dictate who I can and cannot see. You do not get to speak to me however you please.” 

A pointed look is sent to the eldest who stiffens beneath your gaze.

“Trust goes both ways, and it’s clear none of you trust me, let alone respect me. I am fully capable of making my own decisions. Was it not you who told me that you purposely wanted to keep my mind intact?” At this, they’re all inhaling sharply. “How can I trust you if you cannot trust me?”

“We do trust you-“

“I am not finished.” Your piercing gaze shifts to the youngest across from you. “You surprised me the most yesterday, if I’m being honest. I expected something like this from them-“ you motion between Hongjoong and Seonghwa with your spoon before turning your full attention back to Jongho, “but you? You disappointed me yesterday. You all did. Especially considering the day we were all having.” A sigh. “That had been the best day I had had, let alone the best I’ve felt, in months. Then, you all went and did this.”

A brief moment of silence settles around you as you pause to catch your breath. The only sound you can hear right now is the ticking of the clock in the corner, muffled by the sound of both San’s and Jongho’s muted sobs. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice a single tear trail down the side of Hongjoong’s face.

“Do you want to go back to how things were at the start?” You look at them expectantly, and you see fear flash in all of their eyes.

“No, please-“ San reaches across the counter for you, only to watch as you lean away from his touch. Immediately, he retracts his hands, inhaling a shaky breath as he wipes at his eyes.

“We never want to go back there again.” Seonghwa’s voice is rough with his emotions, tears gathering in the corners of his own eyes and threatening to fall at any moment.

“Good. Neither do I.” You reply. “But that’s exactly how it felt to me when you four pulled that stunt yesterday. The fact that I even had to suggest a vote is unbelievable. You wanted to take that choice away from me. You made me feel helpless, and I hate that more than anything. I do not want to go back there again.” 

Your words from all those weeks ago ring through their ears, causing them to inhale sharply as the vivid memory of the second worst night of your life echoes through their minds.

The first of Seonghwa’s tears begin to fall from his eyes.

“If you wanted a mindless doll to toy with, you would have shattered my mind a long time ago.” There is no waver in your voice when you say this, but they can still hear your emotions ringing through loud and clear. The distrust and uncertainty alone have their hearts feeling as if you are personally suffocating them with your every word. “You do not control me. You do not own me. I am not yours. Do you understand?”

A chorus of ‘yes’ echoes around the room, rough and strained from each of them as they swallow their emotions for the time being, wiping at their tears with the backs of their hands.

“Good,” you nod once, “because if any of you ever pull another stunt like this, you will lose all of my respect.” You take the time to meet each one of their gazes, the regret shining through clear as anything in their eyes. More than all of that though, you can see genuine fear. The fear of losing you. You narrow your eyes at them, “and I will never trust you again.”

Your words are like knives, stabbing into their hearts from every angle.

“If you continue to prove that I cannot trust you, or if any of you speak to me in that kind of tone going forward,” you add, shifting your gaze between all of them as you stand from your spot, your yogurt still sitting untouched on the counter. “I don’t care how it happens, but you will never see me again.”

The sound of your spoon clattering on top of the counter manages to pull them back to the harsh reality before them. Your back is turned to them as they see you already halfway to the door to the kitchen.

The eldest reacts before any of them have a chance to, throwing his pride aside for the moment as he instantly has his arms around you from behind, a sob tearing from his throat.

“Please,” he begs, a tear landing on your shoulder as he clings to you for dear life. “Please, don’t go.” He chokes on another sob. “Don’t leave me.”

In all of their long years of life, none of them have ever seen him act like this. Once or twice, sure, he’s swallowed his pride long enough to beg for something, but not like this. No, never like this. Never have any of them seen the eldest so desperate, so broken as he clings onto you like you’ll disappear the very moment he releases you.

“Seonghwa.” A long sigh escapes you. “Let me go.”

For a moment, he hesitates, reluctantly removing his arms from around your waist as another sob tears from his throat. The way he can quite literally feel you slipping right through his fingers is unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and he hates it.

Seonghwa wants to scream. They all do. How could they have been so stupid? Miyeon be damned. After all of the progress they made with you, it’s like they’re back at square one. The thought alone of losing you, maybe not physically, but like this, has them all on their knees before you in an instant.

You blink down at the four demons, each kneeling on the ground in front of you. Their arms are extended out towards you, palms of their hands facing upwards in a sign of complete surrender. None of them dare look up at you for the moment, too ashamed to meet your gaze as they stare at the floor beneath your feet.

“We are so unbelievably remorseful for the pain that our words and actions have caused you,” Hongjoong’s voice is strained as he squeezes his eyes shut, more tears escaping him and falling to the floor beneath him. “I am ashamed of how I acted, and of what I said. We do trust you. We do respect you. I never want you to believe that we do not.”

“We never want you to feel trapped with us, but our actions have proven otherwise,” San’s words are hoarse from all of the crying he’s done, but he doesn’t care. He’d run his voice raw, tearing his throat apart for you, if that’s what you want. Whatever it takes for you to forgive him, to see how remorseful he is, - how much they all are - he will do. No questions asked. Anything to get you to stop looking at them with such distrust in your eyes. “There is nothing I regret more than making you feel as such."

“You are not an object for us to own, or control as we see fit, and we apologize for making you believe we thought as such.” Seonghwa swallows the dryness in his throat, voice rough with all of his emotions. “I sincerely apologize for acting as such, and speaking to you in such an unforgivable manner. I will never do so again.”

“We will never act like this again. I will never disappoint you again.” Jongho’s voice trembles, biting his lower lip to prevent it from wobbling as he takes a deep breath in. “Please, accept our deepest and sincerest apologies. We- I never want to hurt you again.”

As soon as Jongho’s words are out of his mouth, they’re all extending their hands towards you, clasping them together palms downwards as they press their foreheads onto the ground at your feet. 

Without shame, and without an ounce of hesitation, all four demons bow to you in apology, holding their positions before you without so much as another breath shared between them.

For a moment, all is silent. The only sound that remains still comes from the clock ticking away in the corner of the kitchen. Each second that passes by feels like an eternity the longer you go without saying anything, too. At least, to them.

You take a moment to observe the men on the ground before you. Four Kings of the Realm who have proven to you time and time again that they would do anything and everything for you, including bend the knee without a second thought. Here you have them, some of the most powerful beings to have ever graced this earth, kneeling before you in the deepest, and most formal of bows, asking for your forgiveness.

You sigh. “Get up.”

Hesitantly, they all lift their heads to look up at you, eyes shining with the tears that still fall freely down their cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake.

Your arms are crossed in front of your chest as you take the time to meet each one of their gazes, looking over all of them in the next moment with a stern expression on your face.

“I accept your apology.” Your voice is firm, unwavering as you see relief instantly spread across all of their faces. “However,” all of their bodies tense, “that does not mean I have forgiven you.”

“What can we do?” Immediately, Seonghwa is pleading with you once more. “What can we do to make this right?”

“How can we make this better?” San repeats his words from earlier, eyes sorrowful as he meets your gaze.

“You’re going to have to prove it to me.” You respond. “Pretty words mean nothing if there is no substance behind them.”

“Anything.” Jongho breathes out. “We’ll do anything.”

“Fine.” You acknowledge his words. “You can all start by explaining to me why you acted in such a way after everything that you said to me yesterday.”

The four demons all share a brief look with one another as they all stand back to their feet after a quick jerk of the chin upwards from you.

Softly, Hongjoong nods to himself, wiping at his lingering tears with the back of his hand. “It was because of Miyeon.”

“Miyeon?” Your brow furrows instantly, the confusion clear in your voice. “Reina’s girlfriend?”

“She’s not actually Reina’s girlfriend,” Seonghwa tells you, clearing the roughness still lingering in his throat in the next second. “She never was.”

“Explain.” Your eyes narrow immediately at the four demons who attempt to begin composing themselves in front of you.

“Miyeon is a demon like us,” Jongho informs you. “Though, not as powerful, obviously.”

“She-“ San’s voice catches in his throat as he meets your gaze, unsure of how to tell you this. “We-“ he pauses, his lips parting with the unspoken words he wants to say. That is, until he’s sighing and looking at his feet, shame washing over him for the nth time that day. “She’s mine, Wooyoung’s, Hongjoong’s, and Mingi’s ex.”

You blink, eyes widening as your brows raise in disbelief. To say that you’re completely caught off guard would be an understatement. “Excuse me?”

“It was over twenty years ago now,” Hongjoong adds with a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“Hold up,” you raise your hands in front of you in a stopping motion, “I was expecting some type of bullshit excuse, but this? Stop lying to me.”

“We’re not-“

“You all really expect me to believe Reina’s girlfriend is really your ex from twenty years ago?” You cut Seonghwa off in disbelief. “Unlikely.”

“It’s true.” Another voice from the open doorway of the kitchen draws your attention, and you see both Mingi and Yeosang standing there.

“They’re not lying to you, Dearest,” Yeosang meets your gaze, his expression tender as he looks at you. “Though, I wish it weren’t true.”

Your headache pulses, and you find yourself rubbing at your temples with the fingers of your one hand. Heaving a sigh, you turn back around and sit in the same seat you had just been occupying at the counter. It’s probably just a hunger headache, anyways.

“Okay, so Miyeon is your demonic ex-girlfriend from twenty years ago?” You rest your elbows on the counter before you, interlocking your fingers in front of yourself as you lean forward slightly.

“Unfortunately,” Mingi sighs, coming to stand at the side of the counter closest to you.  At the way he notices your untouched yogurt still sitting on top of the counter, he’s quick to open the fridge and pour you a glass of your favourite juice. Of course, he notices the bowl of fresh fruit right away, only causing him to quirk a brow at San as they meet each other’s gazes from across the way.

You nod in thanks, taking a sip as the others move to stand around the island once more. Yeosang, of course, takes the opportunity to pull out the chair beside you, sitting down at the counter in the next moment.

“We promise that we’ll explain everything.” He says, shooting you a comforting smile in the process.

Your lips quirk slightly upwards in return, a semi-relieved smile painting your face. “I’d appreciate that.”

A small silence settles over all of you as they think about where to begin. 

“It was Wooyoung and I that approached her first.” San admits, eyes downcast as he refuses to meet your gaze as shame courses through him one more. “She was interested in us, and we were interested in her.”

“Yes, that’s usually how all relationships start,” you acknowledge. An amused huff escapes you in the next second. “Well, most relationships.”

“It wasn’t long before I joined them,” Mingi comments next. “She just had a way to lure you in, and keep you trapped in her little games without realizing.”

“She was cunning, and knew how to run her mouth to get exactly what she wanted,” Jongho adds, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “She used them to try and get to who she really always wanted.”

“Whom was?” You quirk a brow, looking around at all of them.

“Me.” Yeosang admits, exhaling a breath. “She always tried to get to me through them.”

“Did it work?” You ask, and each male notices how you shift the slightest bit away from him as you do so. A fact which has Yeosang’s heart twinging in his chest unpleasantly as he sees the uncertainty in your eyes.

“Of course not.” He’s quick to reply, watching your shoulders sag slightly in relief. “I never wanted her. I never have, and I never will.”

“Still, she tried to ensnare more of us.” Seonghwa sighs, leaning his one hand against the counter for support.

“The four of them weren’t enough for her anymore,” Jongho tells you. “If she couldn’t have who she truly wanted, she would then take all she could get.”

“Did you ever-“ your inquiry dies in your throat as you watch Jongho shake his head.

“I always saw right through her lies,” he states, rather pointedly. “I tried to warn them, but those four were in too deep at that point.”

You spare a glance between Mingi, San, and Hongjoong. “Did you love her?”

“Not in the way we love you.” San immediately replies, shaking his head.

“That’s not what I’m asking.” You blink, a soft shake to your own head as you place your hands gently on top of one another on the counter before you. “Did you love her?”

A brief moment of hesitation before Mingi is clearing his throat.

“Yes.” Mingi swallows thickly, his one hand resting lightly on the counter.

Instinctively, you reach for him, offering your support in any way you can as you clasp his hand in yours. He looks at you, mild surprise clear in his eyes, but the action not unwelcome to him at all. He shoots you a soft, grateful smile, feeling you squeeze his hand in support.

Each of the four males from earlier watch on with pain filled eyes. Perhaps if they didn’t screw up so monumentally, that could be them right now.

San clears his throat next, drawing your gaze back to him for the moment.

“I did.” His voice is rough, but there’s an undertone of shame hidden behind his words as he averts his gaze.

You nod gently in understanding. “What about Wooyoung?”

“He did.” Seonghwa confirms with tense nod of his own head.

“Speaking of,” you look briefly around the kitchen, “where is he? Shouldn’t he and Yunho be apart of this conversation, too?”

“They’re attempting to track Miyeon right now. Amongst other things.” Yeosang casually leans his arm over the back of your chair, loving how you shift slightly closer to him this time. A fact which has the youngest reeling in jealousy across from him. “But they know what’s going on.”

At the way you furrow your brows at him in confusion, he points to his mind. Your eyes immediately widen in understanding, just knowing that they’re keeping their connection open to their two other brothers for this conversation right now.

Sure enough, you feel two familiar brushes against your void, both a bright yellow and a pure white string humming with vibration. Your headache lessens, and you choose to brush back.

Then, you’re turning to look at Hongjoong.

Out of all of them, Hongjoong seems to look the most nervous. Currently, he leans against the opposite cupboards, arms crossed over his chest as he gazes intently at the counter before him. Then, he’s letting out a sigh, eyes falling shut in the next moment.

“I never loved her.” He admits. “I only used her for sex.”

Subconsciously, your grip tightens around Mingi’s hand as you inhale a sharp breath. Your spine straightens.

“Did you lead her on?” Your gaze is piercing, and even though Hongjoong cannot see you, he can feel it burning through his very soul.

“Of course not,” he shakes his head, eyes opening to meet your own and hoping beyond everything that you can see the sincerity shining there. “She knew it was strictly sex, and that’s all it was ever going to be between us. Until she wanted more. I just wasn’t going to give that to her, but no matter how many times I explained it to her, she kept pushing for more. Which is when I cut her out.”

“I see,” you nod. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Hongjoong wasn’t the fourth one of us that Jongho meant when he said that, Dearest,” Yeosang explains softly, fingertips brushing against your back lightly in comfort.

“Then, who?” Your brow furrows, looking towards Seonghwa who just shakes his head.

In an instant, that bright yellow string begins humming once more, a familiar tender warmth brushing against your void. 

You let him in.

It was me, Petal. Yunho’s voice echoes through your mind.

Yunho-

I am not proud of that portion of my life, but it is unfair to you to keep it hidden any longer. He begins. As you know, I have a particular skillset which is much heightened over my brothers. Demons can and will seek us out if they wish to be trained by us in our field of expertise.

Your breath hitches and you find yourself gripping onto Mingi’s hand for dear life. You trained her mentally, didn’t you?

A moment of silence. I did. And there is no greater regret that I have than doing such.

What happened between the two of you? You ask, blinking a few times as you stare straight ahead at the fridge across from you. Then, softer, you add, you don’t need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. I do not wish to pry.

Your consideration means more to me than you know, Petal. Another familiar brush against your mind, as if he’s caressing you with the palm of his hand. Only, you do not realize how you lean slightly into that phantom touch, but the others do. I want you to know. I need you to know, and understand that I am not proud of what came of it.

You loved her. It’s not a question, but a statement of fact.

More than the others did at the time. Yunho sighs, nothing but honesty reflected in his words. There was a time where I also thought that she loved me, too.

A sense of dread washes over your entire body, as if someone has just doused you in cold water. She led you on.

I wish I could say I saw it coming. Yunho replies, and if he were standing before you, you know he’d be averting his gaze right now. I thought things were going well. Every lesson we had, we would get closer to one another. She had this way of getting you to lower your defences without realizing, worming her way in until her venom took its hold.

There is no cure for love. You reply softly.

No, he chuckles. There is not.

What happened between you? There’s a hint of concern he can hear coming through in your voice, feeling it in the way your emotions begin to seep into his own mind, even from this far away. He smiles faintly.

We shared many moments during her training, he begins, gently guiding you through his past memories. 

One moment, you appear to be looking through Yunho’s own eyes at Miyeon as she stands across from him, a large smile painted on her face. It seems as if she’s just overcome something difficult in her training, her eyes sparkling with that all too familiar triumphant gleam one has when completing a hard task. You can feel the echoes of his past emotions: the way his heart was racing at seeing her smiling at him like that, revelling in her happiness with her, the pride that filled him when she praised him for his incredible teachings.

Then, the scene shifts, and you are privy to a montage of Yunho sitting in front of his easel in what must be his art room. Hours upon hours are spent with him recreating scenes with Miyeon that he has lived: with paint, charcoal, pastels - anything he can use to capture her beauty and put it on canvas for him to admire, even when she is not with him to share in the moment.

The next memory he shows you, is not as bright as the rest, and immediately, your expression falls. You don’t even realize that tears begin to line your eyes as you see a brilliant inferno blazing brightly before you, stacks upon stacks of canvasses melting beneath the heat. Familiar canvasses with the image of a woman you’ve just seen him spending weeks creating and perfecting.

The first tear that escapes you is synonymous with his in this memory, your heart squeezing right along with his at the significance of the burning artwork. You can hear Miyeon’s voice echoing in his mind, laughing at him after confessing to her about his feelings. Feelings of which that now suffocate his heart as he watches the fire reflect in his pain filled orbs.

You really thought I cared about you? You can hear Miyeon’s voice scoff inside your mind. That after showing me some pathetic pieces of artwork you would actually mean something to me?

You can hear how he pleaded with her, voice straining with his emotions as he begged for her to stay.

I have never wanted you, and I will never want you. She spits, her words full of venom and eyes full of malice. All you’re good for are your powers.

Your breath hitches as your free hand comes up to cover your mouth, more tears falling freely down your face.

The scene shifts once more and you see Yunho completely destroying his art room. Papers are strewn across the floor, glass and ceramic shattered around the area with smudges of charcoal lining the walls. Paint splatters almost everything as you watch the male break down sobbing in the middle of his room, pulling harshly at his hair as he falls to his knees, refusing to open the door to any of his brothers that beg to be let in.

I gave her a part of myself that I had kept hidden for so long, waiting for the right person to come along to share it with, and she destroyed it. Yunho’s voice pulls you back to the present moment, hearing the emotions he so desperately tries to hold back. I gave her everything I could have of myself, and she took it and ran before burning it all to the ground.

You don’t even realize Yeosang has stood and pulled you into his embrace until you feel a separate comforting hand place itself onto your back, beginning to rub gently along your spine. You cling onto Yeosang for dear life as Mingi soothingly caresses you from behind, both males cooing at you in attempts to calm you down while the others can do nothing more than watch you falling apart like this right in front of their very eyes.

I couldn’t even look at a canvass for almost four years after that, and even when I did pick up the hobby again after so long, it was never the same. Yunho admits. Until you, Petal. You saved me in more ways than you’ll ever know.

You swallow, blinking away your tears as you attempt to control your breathing for the moment.

I have never felt this strongly about anyone before in my life, not even Miyeon. He admits, and you feel him caress your mind again, as if he is attempting to wipe away your tears. You are My Muse. My Petal. My Queen.

You can hear the fond growl in his voice as he says this, and you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.

I will do anything for you, and I will start by protecting that which I love most. He breathes out, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice as it echoes throughout your mind.

That which you love most? Your own voice is soft as you peer at him through your mind’s eye.

He smiles fondly. You, Petal.

You cannot help it, the way your heart races in your chest from his sudden admission. Sure, you figured it out before he said it, but that still does not stop the effect his words have on you. Hearing someone say something that you’ve always longed to hear from a lover is always a shocking situation.

You dry your eyes, pulling away from Yeosang for the moment as Mingi steps back to give you some space as well.

Thank you for sharing this with me. You say gently, reaching out to him for the first time with your own mind and practically feeling the way he shivers from your touch. I appreciate it more than you know.

Of course, Petal. He responds just as softly. Thank you for listening.

Slowly, you close your mind to him once more, but not before reaching out to him for a final time. 

The simple gesture of reassurance means more to him than you’ll ever know. A smile begins to tug at the corners of his lips as he continues to scout around the area for Miyeon, feeling his love for you grow at the genuine sorrow you felt for him as he shared those memories with you. He always knew you were perfect, and this just proves it even more.

Sitting back properly in your seat, you wipe at your eyes once more. “Please tell me you stopped seeing her after that.”

“After what she did to Yunho, we all wanted nothing to do with her.” Mingi confirms, a growl on his lips as if he’s recalling the same memories you have just been shown.

“If you hurt one of us, you hurt all of us.” Seonghwa adds, a snarl pulling at his features.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Wooyoung or San as furious as they were when that happened,” Jongho admits with a low puff of air escaping him.

“It made us question everything she did in our relationship,” San says. “We couldn’t trust-“ he practically cringes at the hypocrisy of his own words, “we couldn’t trust her.”

“So, you ended it.” You fill in the rest for them.

“Without a second thought.” Hongjoong speaks after so long remaining silent. “None of us wanted anything to do with her after that.”

“Yet, she still persisted.” Jongho sighs, exasperatedly.

“Which is why she hasn’t let go of us, even until today.” Mingi mirrors his brother’s sigh, rubbing at the side of his neck.

“She couldn’t handle the fact that none of us wanted her anymore, and that we wouldn’t fall prey to her little games she loved to play,” Seonghwa says, moving slightly backwards to lean against the wall behind him.

You nod along to his words until you realize one sticks out to you in particular.

“Wait, you said ‘us’,” you look at the eldest at the far end of the counter. “Do you include yourself in this?”

Seonghwa hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes glance briefly around at all of his brothers who now stare at him expectantly. Even they seem to not know this particular detail about the eldest.

“I never liked Miyeon,” he begins. “She always drove me up the walls, but there were times-“ he hesitates, averting his gaze to the side as if ashamed, “times where I couldn’t deny the tension between us.”

“Oh my god,” the phrase is escaping you without another thought as your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “She cheated on you with your brother.”

Hongjoong, San, and Mingi all share a chuckle between them.

“What? What’s so funny?” Your brow furrows, looking around at all of them.

“Starlight, she didn’t cheat on us with our brother,” Mingi grins softly, heart warmed by your concern. “It’s the same reason we weren’t mad when Yunho wanted to court her while we were already in a relationship with her.”

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head slightly, lips tugging downward in confusion.

“She approached us about adding the others to the relationship,” San explains. “Which is why when she pulled that stunt with Yunho, it shocked all of us.”

“She knew I was never going to accept,” Jongho says, “but that didn’t stop her from always trying to get to Yeosang.”

“I was never going to accept either, but she thought making it seem like she wanted all of us would open me up to the idea of wanting her.” Yeosang’s voice is low as he lets out a long exhale through his nose.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers beneath the counter as you give him a soft squeeze. Almost instantly, he squeezes back.

“Though, we never knew she bedded Hwa until just now,” Mingi shoots his brother a pointed look.

“To be quite honest, it happened shortly before Yunho confessed to her, so I didn’t feel comfortable talking about it until now.” Seonghwa admits, shoulders sagging in regret. “If I could take it back, I would. I was only a pawn in her game. A triumph of victory. Another notch on her bedpost.”

“She used you.” You state the obvious, blinking once as Seonghwa’s gaze lifts to meet yours. “She only slept with you to say that she could, and that was it.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, his eyes slipping closed as he leans his head back against the wall. “Which just makes me wonder about Yunho.”

A moment of silence passes over the kitchen, the ticking of the clock all that can be heard throughout the space.

“It’s all my fault.” Yeosang breathes, staring down at the counter intently in front of him.

“Don’t say that,” you’re quick to comfort him, dragging your intwined hands onto your lap to place your other one overtop of his.

“It is, though.” Yeosang looks around at all of his brothers. “The day Yunho was going to confess, she came to me. She boasted about sleeping with Seonghwa that previous night to me, trying to make me jealous. Only, I wasn’t having it. She made - makes - me sick. Which is why when she came onto me, I pushed her away. I told her that I had never wanted her, nor would I ever.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, thinking back to the words she so harshly spit at Yunho the night of his confession.

“She took it out on him.” Yeosang continues, eyes once more downcast. “If I had just given her what she wanted then, none of us would be in this mess now.” He turns to look at you, nothing but pain and fear hidden behind his eyes, shining with a certain type of sorrow you’ve never seen from him before. “You wouldn’t be in danger now.”

“Yeosang,” the hand you had placed on top of your intertwined ones raises to cup the side of his face, noticing how he leans almost immediately into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. “This is not your fault.”

You take a moment to look around at all of them.

“None of this is any of your faults.” You say, and you notice the immediate effect your words have on all of them, a sort of weight lifting from their shoulders. You turn back to Yeosang in front of you. “It was completely within your right to deny her. She does not own you, nor is she entitled to anything you have to offer her. You are your own person who made his own choices, just as she made hers. I am repulsed by how she used you. All of you. I am disgusted by her vile attitude and personality. She does not own you, nor do you owe her anything.”

“It’s been twenty years since we’ve let her go,” San confesses. “Yet she can’t seem to let go of us.”

“I don’t think it’s you she can’t let go of, but the feeling of power you all gave to her.” You state, and you watch as his eyes widen, sharp inhales echoing around the room. “She believes I’ve taken her place now. Probably believes I’ve stolen you right out from under her nose.”

“You could not be more correct.” Hongjoong breathes out, chest swelling at how keen your observation and deduction skills are.

“She wants to hurt you in the ways she believes you hurt her,” you continue. “Which is why I’m assuming she hates my guts.”

“Again, you would be correct,” Mingi nods, swallowing the dryness in his throat.

“To be honest, I knew there was something off with her when we met yesterday,” you mutter, frown tugging at your features as you pull your hand away from Yeosang’s face, much to his discontent. “I should have known she was another demon, especially given the way her eyes flashed.”

“She flashed her eyes to you?” Seonghwa asks, pushing himself almost immediately off of the wall as anger swirls within his chest.

“I’ve been around you guys enough to notice when your eyes start to swirl with that familiar blackness,” you shoot him a look as you see his eyes doing the same now. “Plus, there was the way Reina was acting.”

You inhale sharply, a cold chill running down your spine as panic seizes your entire being. You hand subconsciously squeeze Yeosang’s tighter in worry.

“Reina,” you look around at them frantically. “She’s going to kill my friend.” Then, your eyes widen. “My family.” 

You glance between all of them, the fear clear on your features

“If she is as good at mental manipulation as Yunho implied, she’s been controlling my best friend this whole time.” You lean forward, dropping Yeosang’s hand as you rest your elbows on top of the counter in front of you, cradling your head in your grip. “She has access to all of Reina’s memories. Reina knows almost everything about me. She can find my other friends, my family.” Your whole body begins trembling. “I practically admitted to her yesterday that hurting them hurts me, oh my god.”

“Starlight, shhh, it’s okay,” Mingi shushes you, drawing your gaze to him as he steps up beside your seat and pulls you into his chest. “We’ve already got it covered, you don’t need to worry.”

“But-“

“Shhh, no ‘but’s!” Mingi chuckles, finally being the one able to cut you off like this for once. 

“What else do you think Yunho and I have been doing while we’ve been gone, Gorgeous?” 

You peek out from Mingi’s chest to see both Wooyoung and Yunho standing just inside the threshold to the kitchen.

“Reina?” You tentatively ask, sitting up further in your seat as you turn your full attention to the males standing by the doorway.

“Safe, and free from Miyeon’s control.” Yunho replies with a soft smile and a nod of his head.

You breathe a sigh of relief. “I knew she would never make those types of comments to me herself.”

“She wouldn’t?” San inquires, no skepticism in his voice.

“Of course not,” you shake your head. “She has enough issues with people questioning her pansexuality, so it just wouldn’t make sense. It’s why it caught me so off guard yesterday.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong replies knowingly, “I see.”

You turn back to the two males standing by the door. “My family? And friends?”

“All safe,” Wooyoung smiles back at you, quite widely. “You don’t have to worry. She won’t be able to get to them, or use them against you any more.”

Softly, you stand from your seat, using your one hand to gently push Mingi away from you for the moment as you approach the two males standing across the way. You say nothing, eyes shining with the sincerity of your emotions as you come to stand before them. You can feel every pair of eyes on you as you do so, though none are as focused as the two in front of you are right now.

Then, slowly, you meet each of their gazes before reaching out to cup Wooyoung’s face in your hands. You stare deeply into his eyes, and you can feel the way he tenses beneath your touch.

“Thank you.” You tilt his head to the side slightly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss onto his cheek.

“Of course, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung’s heart thunders in his chest, a pleased growl threatening to escape from happiness at any second. He can feel the tips of his ears burning, the blush spreading down his neck all the while as he allows the fingers of his one hand to ghost along the skin of his cheek, right where your lips had been only moments before.

Turning to Yunho, you meet his gaze, and you can feel a deeper understanding for one another pass through the air between you. Again, you reach over to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing tenderly over his cheeks as you meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” you breathe, staring deeply into his eyes as you bring your lips to his own cheek, letting them linger there for a moment longer before you’re wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him into your chest. “For everything today.”

Yunho smiles, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he pulls you in impossibly closer to his chest. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent deeply as everything you surrounds his entire being. “Anything for you, Petal.”

All too soon, you’re pulling away, and Yunho reluctantly lets you go. Only, he allows himself the pleasure of letting his hands linger on your arms, and he nearly hums in content at the way that you don’t seem to mind.

In the next second, you grab each of their hands in your own and lead them back over to the counter. You then return to your seat, noting how all four males surround you on all sides. Yeosang still sits on the stool to your right, followed by Wooyoung and Yunho who stand directly behind you, while Mingi steps back into you on your left.

Lifting your head, you notice the other four males having converged once more across the counter.

“So, that’s why you didn’t want me going off with Reina on my own for an hour yesterday.”

“We scented Miyeon in the mall earlier,” Hongjoong nods, eyes downcast as that all too familiar shame washes over him. “We didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I understand now,” you comment, pointedly looking between all of them, “but that does not excuse the way you acted.”

“We understand,” both Jongho and San reply simultaneously.

“We are sorry for treating you in such a way,” Seonghwa repeats their apology from earlier, his head downcast as he rests his hands on top of the counter.

You nod, allowing a small silence to settle over the kitchen between all of you as you let their words sink in. That is, until the sound of your stomach growling echos throughout the room.

“Betrayal,” you mutter, glancing upwards in slight annoyance before looking down at your stomach with an irritated look on your face.

“Are you hungry?” It’s Yeosang who asks you the question.

Sheepishly, you nod your head, a small heat rising to your cheeks as you spot the still unopened yogurt on the counter in front of you. Though, you notice Yeosang going to move off of the stool in the next moment, only for your hand to reach out and stop him, resting gently on his knee.

“San?” Said man’s head immediately shoots upwards at hearing his name fall from your lips, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “Could you please hand me that bowl of fruit in the fridge?”

The man is moving before the words even finish coming out of your mouth, the door to the fridge practically being torn off its hinges as he pulls it open. In the blink of an eye, he has the bowl of fresh fruit in his hands, gently placing it on the counter before you after grabbing you a fork from the drawer.

You smile, and the sense of relief that washes over him is instantaneous. However, it’s your next words that truly have him weak in the knees.

“Thank you, Baby.”

[nhasablogg]

Three times Alex denied being ticklish

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Anonymous said: Hi N! I loved your red white and royal blue fic! In that story you said, that Henry had to tickle Alex to pieces three times before he admitted to being ticklish. Would you be interested in writing about that as well?

Words: 800

1.

The revelation had happened on a day like any other, only Henry had marked it in his calendar and Alex had whined about it for days because of it. A Tuesday, semi-cloudy, event after event lining up throughout the day, and all Alex had wanted was to sneak in some fun between them if you catch his drift.

He’d wanted slow kisses and quick hands. Hushed voices and Henry tugging lightly at his hair while a coat hanger dug into Alex’s shoulder blade.

What he’d gotten instead was Henry digging his fingers into his sides again with a delighted laugh, because Alex’s stupid body had been too eager and too tired to pretend the gentle squeeze hadn’t tickled the first time, and so of course Henry needed to be an asshole about it and do it again.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he said, indignant and offended and whatever other emotion he managed to lace his voice with as Alex was too busy trying to shove him off.

“I’m not,” he said, knowing it was stupid to deny it, especially when Henry was just about to discover that his ribs were even worse as he climbed his hands upward, but he said it anyway.

“Are you sure about that?” Henry’s voice had a teasing lilt to it which made Alex want to both blush and tear his clothes off.

“Y-yes!” He tried to twist out of his grip, bumping into a broom or something which fell against the door. “Henry, they’ll hear us- don’t!”

“I think they’ll understand when I tell them of the earth-shattering information I just discovered about the first son of the United States.”

“Henry!”

Henry stilled his fingers with a huff. “Fine. But your denial does not land with me.”

“Please shut up and just kiss me while you can, you idiot.”

2.

The second time was much more private, which meant that Henry had much more time to explore his discovery, much to Alex’s dismay. He pinned him on the bed, Alex thinking for a second that this was simply Henry being impatient, only to realize that his wandering hands were aiming to tickle rather than to touch.

“Hey, wait, don’t do tha-ah!”

“Why?” Henry paused just at Alex’s upper ribs. “You’re not ticklish, remember?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Have fun having a whole nation after you.” Henry curled his fingers, grinning when Alex jumped. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

“I see. So you won’t mind if I do that again then?”

Alex leaned his head back, begging the gods for strength. “Of course not.” “Oh, good, because now that I think about it, I have noticed you twitching a bit when I kiss your neck.”

Alex’s breath hitched. “Right.”

“So be a good boy and keep your head just as it is.”

Alex was not a good boy, but Henry was strong, Henry was stubborn, and Henry was much too good of a tickler for it to be fair.

It was a miracle no one came to rescue him, because Alex was certain his screams could be heard throughout the whole of the White House. He needed new guards for sure.

3.

The third time had Alex nervous, which Henry noticed and teased him about. “I wouldn’t be torturing you if you had just not kept this from me to begin with.”

“Sorry for not holding a press conference about being ticklish, your majesty.”

“So you admit it?”

“No.”

“Then I reckon I have no choice.”

Alex tried to make a run for it this time, leaping over the bed with Henry right at his heels, both laughing, both young and silly and in love, and when Henry managed to grab him and pull him down into a heap on the floor Alex wondered if this was how the rest of his life would be and found he didn’t mind it at all. Not even when Henry started tickling his knees.

…and one time he admitted it.

In the end, Henry didn’t have to coax out the confession.

It was late, both were breathing heavily, and Henry was running his fingertips over Alex’s stomach without any real intention of tickling him. Alex was half asleep and wasn’t feeling ticklish at all until he hit a particularly bad spot on his lower belly, which made his hand shoot out to try to stop him. “Tickles,” he mumbled and he heard Henry laugh, something hushed and lovely.

“Knew it,” he said, and Alex whined, unwilling to open his eyes to glare at him. “Is this your official confession?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his head away from him and sighing happily when lips found his temple. “Don’t be annoying about it.”

Henry huffed. “I would never.”

“Liar.”

“Not fun when someone denies the obvious, huh?”

“Shut up and go to sleep, your majesty.”

[yyxandere]

Hello! I have a small idea about the attitude of several yanderes from the Tojo clan towards their darling (this will be drastic and inexperienced, be careful 🤺):

Daigo, during his idle period, may take you for granted, neglecting you, but after Kiryu knocked some sense into him and became chairman, he began to greatly regret his behavior in the past. Therefore, he tries in every possible way to make amends to you like a beaten puppy. Mine tries to help him with this, looking for all the information about you and keeping an eye on you, reporting all the details to his master. If Daigo finds out that some men are too close to you, he will "convince" you to behave more decently (if they are lucky enough to survive).

Nishikiyama is not shy about showing his affection for you by giving you gifts or taking you on dates to expensive restaurants. Such an obvious braggart for you both before the events of Kiwami and after. He rarely takes his eyes off you, so I don’t rely on myself for a particularly long time.

Kiryu is so awkward when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he really tries! Oh, how he loves it when you spend time with the children! The way you take care of them even including Haruka just makes his heart swell with respect and love for you. In addition, Kamurocho is rich in all sorts of places for entertainment such as bowling alleys, game clubs and especially vending machines with plush toys. So you two are definitely not bored.

Kashiwagi may seem callous and cold at first glance, especially in Yakuza 0, but this is only at first glance. He expresses his concern when no one is looking. Did you leave after preparing food for him? He devoured it in a short period of time like a man possessed. Were you offended by some idiot? Don't worry, he's already kicked his ass. Do you want something? Everything is settled, the desired item is already on your coffee table! But over time, he becomes more open about his feelings towards you, becoming softer and more relaxed. Imagine his indescribable gratitude and happiness when you still agreed to be with him even after he left the Tojo clan. He is completely yours, your honor!

-ˋˏSINCERELY YOURS. . . ->

Anon. I will kiss you on your sweet, delectable lips right now. CAUSE THIS ASK IS HEAVEN SENT.

It’s been so long since I played Yakuza, so if the characters are OOC then please forgive me cuz it’s really been a long time (ノωヽ)

YOU ARE SO RIGHT ON DAIGO'S PART IT'S AMAZING!!!!!

Daigo in his early day would definitely be an asshole to you, he won't lay a finger on them but he would definitely ignore his you. Daigo loves them all right, but after what happened (Him and Ryuji), his pride is shattered and because of that he acted more of an asshole and of yes, in that period of time he really took you for granted, but when Kiryu saw or heard of what was happening (maybe you and Daigo still in a relationship, no kidnapping yet) Kiryu would absolutely slam him and like what you said knock some sense into him, he will give Daigo an ear of how to treat you properly.

After he became chairman, Daigo grew into a much more level-headed person, he thought more logically and more of a decent person rather than a brute. It wasn't easy for him, but he finally managed to learn better ways to approach you. However, you were always very cautious around him since he has been so cruel in the past, he knows. So he started to pay attention and he is trying to get closer to you. And he is making progress by spending time with you even if it's a fraction of time. Let's say even if he tries to spend time with you it doesn't work because you can't really seem to love him anymore because of his past. Then he got that part covered, you are now dating one of the strongest Yakuza clan in Kamurucho, hell even if you leave the city, the Tojo clan's reputation and influence is everywhere, so no matter where you are you're always going to be found, plus is it not for the better if you stay with him rather then leave? If you leave Daigo you won't have any protections against other Yakuza rivals, plus he is a whole new man mostly for you.

And since he is the new head of the Tojo clan he will have many men on his side, and one of the most loyal of them all is Mine. he is absolutely devoted to Daigo and will do anything to keep him happy, so if Daigo requested him to set up cameras, Mine would obey his command without hesitation. Daigo need information about the friend you were hanging out with? Bam, he has all of their records, their family, their last hospital check, their messages, whatever Daigo needs is there. Daigo's schedule may be full but if he does manage to make time, be prepared to be snuggled with love and riches. You've been eyeing that bag for a while now? He will come inside the store with you grab it and give it to you THEN pay for it and whoever decides to even harm you both on your outing, their ass be prepared for an ass whooping of a night and after that maybe if they are still conscience he will call one of his men to deal with the random thug. Most of all, Daigo now as a chairman will be more soft and loving towards you, like you said anon, like a puppy.

UGH MY FAVORITE KOI TATTOOED MAN NISHKIII :(((( (i just really wanna hug him bro)

Now Nishki was never afraid to show his love, it was like he was always in that honeymoon phase in the relationship, always bringing you flowers, you and him going out on walks or him giving them chocolates, you kept on telling him many times that he shouldn't do all of this, but he disagrees. St first you thought that it was only a phase in the relationship, but nope, many months in and he still does it, and slowly it's getting quite overbearing, even if you ask Nishki to give you some space, Niski is going to look at you with eyes like a beaten puppy and so ever since you have not said anything, worrying that you might hurt Nishki's feelings. Nishki is a huge romantic, he would always hold your bags and all and he would always pester you about living in the same apartment as him, you told him that it was too quick, Nishki at first would give you some space, but that wouldn't stop him from asking over and over again.

Now if we go the Nishki who is a different man than before, it's now like talking to a different person, Nishki before was a romantic wherever you went, he would always give you kisses and whatnot, but our blood-stained Nishki doesn't, don't get him wrong he loves you dearly but now it is a WHOLE different level. Remember you don't want to live in the same house as him? Too bad, he doesn't even ask the question, your'e already at his house with high security, so make sure that you will never leave. Nishki had been through hell and back, losing his brother, being compared to him, swallowing his own pride in front of his men, and the cherry on top, the passing of his dead sister. Nishki grew more paranoid, he became selfish he is like a feral dog protecting a bone or such, he is fuming and ready to blow someone's head off if they EVEN think to take you away from him, his keeping you captive is like a defense mechanism after all the things he went through, screaming and yelling won't do anything, it is much better to be quiet and do whatever he wants rather then be starved or slapped by him.

Can't make a post without mentioning my GOAT!!!!

Ah, Kiryu. The Dragon of Dojima is such an honorable and respectable person, the art that was placed on his back signifies the power and strength he holds, everyone knows his name in the city of Kamurucho or the dark underground, he is what a man wants to be, strong, respected and cold- wait is that him with a person holding their hands?! And in a closer look, HE IS BLUSHING?!!!

Jokes aside, our main man, Kiryu is an absolute oddball, he's a strong and composed man and can manage to have a clear line of thinking even in a dire situation, but whenever you near, or even hold his hands, inside of him, he is FLUSTRED, let us just hope that you're oblivious to that or else this man will go in a blushing state, good thing that Kiryu doesn't show to many expressions and just shows a stoic one. Like you said noonie, he really tries to show that he really loves you, Kiryu knows that he can be kind of bad when it comes to FULLY expressing what he wants to express, so he does a lot of acts of service, he regularly listens to your problem he even tries to learn how to cooks so you won't ever eat anything unhealthy.

Now if this is the time when Kiryu has Haruka, that's when things start getting interesting. Kiryu desires a normal life, especially a domestic one, he doesn't care who wheres the apron not, and he doesn't care at least you're happy, heck he would be content if he is a stay-at-home husband, and while you work, every time you went back home after a long day you would smell newly cooked food and steamed rice ready, while Haruka helps Kiryu with preparings the plates, but of course if you want to take a bath first, the tub is already filled with warm water its really your choice. Kiryu trusts you, that you won't go away or leave cause of Haruka, You heard what happened to Haruka and Kiryu knows your kind heart and in that moment knew that you won't ever leave Haruka or him, such thoughts could make you feel guilt for the rest of your life., you'll be another parental figure to Haruka no matter what.

Still, on the idea of domestic Kiryu, I would imagine all three of you go to a family outing or some such, maybe a weekend when you guys are in the park eating picnics or even the nearby arcades, both Haruka and Kiryu are gaming nerds. If ever Haruka wins a plushie from a vending machine, she will give it to you and the scene always makes Kiryu's heart flutter since Kiryu is a family man, if there was someone who would be foolish enough to hurt his family (even if you guys aren't married yet) he will show them that living in the Yakuza for many years showed him many different punching techniques…

Now…for my favorite old man……

Devotion. That's one word to describe Kashiwagi when it comes to your love.

You know how much he cares because even after all of those years with you he never lost the way his heart beats faster or his cheeks burn red, because of you, because of what you did and made of him, it is hard to imagine the day where he doesn't feel your presence, your heartbeat in his ears. When you first met him he was cold, and his piercing gaze was frightening, but with some kind of miracle both of you decided to see each other, he became softer, of course, but is still cold and stern when it comes to the Yakuza business, but at home or whenever yall meet, hell ease up his worries. I highly doubt that anyone would even dare stand where ever you are when beside you is a menacing man, who they do NOT wanna fuck with. He is very overprotective of you especially when he is a high-ranked officer, so there are going to be many enemies just waiting to strike against you.

And oh lord, whenever you do such domestic things like, make him coffee, give him his bento, or even kiss him after a long day doing shady business, he will just become putty on your hands, your hands are like magic to him and I feel like his men know about you, so whenever you visit Kashiwagi whenever he's in a bad mood he will immediately lighten up keep his voice to a minimum to not scare you.

After he left the Yakuza, he would do more acts that he had to restrain because he was in the Yakuza, most of the time he would kiss you (on the cheek only) when there were few people around. You also bet your ass that yall are gonna get married, he always dreamt of marrying you when you both became a thing muttering your name with his last name or better yet both of you having kids of your own. So when both of you were married he was crying his eyes out man, seeing you in a white shiromuku (traditional Japanese wedding dress) just comforts something in him and the ring on your finger signifies the love you both have for each other. If you ever have a kid (biologically or adopted) he would give them all the love there is, he might be a stern father but he has his sweet and soft moments with them (I find him having a girl). Like Kiryu, he is a family man, and whoever touches his small family must know that this man was in the Yakuza and knows his way to pummel people to the ground.

UGH YAKUZA MEN ARE THE DEATH OF ME, I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY SORRY FOR THAT ANON, BUT YOUR ASK WAS SO FUN TO WRITE TBH!!!! SO PLEASE DON'T BE SHY AND SEND MORE IF YOU WANT TO!!!!

[coexistentialism]

hi! I was wondering if u know what exactly is normal to not remember in childhood? like did can cause memory gaps/amnesia in childhood but I hear people also say it is normal to have gaps. so I don’t really know what is the normal and what is the amnesia?

Yes, most people have at least some memory gaps in their childhood. It's not unusual. However, usually those memory gaps are mostly only present for ages 5 and under. Different sources will say anywhere from "3-4" to "3-8." Generally, personally, I feel like it's more normal for people to not remember things under the age of 5. Anything over that age is like yeah you'll probably forget some things, but the average person won't have a ton of gaps in the way people with DID/OSDD will.

It's also normal to have memory gaps around traumatic events specifically, but people with DID/OSDD will have many more gaps and will have gaps for things that aren't traumatic (I have memory loss for video games I played, the things I liked, my hobbies, the feelings I felt over those things, etc.)

I can't really say for sure what's "normal" versus "abnormal", but I can give some personal experiences.

I always felt like my memories were like a giant puzzle with broken, missing pieces and mismatched pieces. Or like burnt photographs. Or like shattered fragments broken down into the tiniest pieces. Etc. etc.

I have many, many memories that feel like they are missing context, don't make sense, are "unfinished." Like a half of a memory, or vague memories. Or memories that I "know" happened, but can't really remember. Or feeling like there are many, many "holes" in my memories.

I have evidence of things I did, said, felt, etc. as a child, but I do not remember ever saying, doing, thinking, feeling those things. For example: I have evidence of me roleplaying as a kid. I distinctly remember telling people around those SAME ages that I didn't like roleplaying, never roleplayed, and found it boring/uninteresting/didn't like it. Even though just like a year or so prior, I apparently really liked roleplaying and did so frequently with a close friend of mine at the time? (Looking back, that ""roleplaying"" was definitely very likely just alters fronting and we thought it was just roleplaying lmfao but like I said I have no memories of roleplaying, ever).

I have amnesia for my teenage years and adult years. To my knowledge, amnesia for teenage years and adult years isn't common/normal for the average person. Unless you're, like. Super old I guess, but I've met way older people who remember a lot from their teenage years still

My family would directly ask me if I remembered something from my childhood and I would tell them I have no memory of it, while my brother (who is only a year older than me) did or something

In general my family will tell me about things that happened in my childhood and I wouldn't remember it

I have to rely on outside, objective things to be able to remember things like "I lived in this house around ages (xyz) because (abc)-". That probably makes no sense, so for example: I remember playing Spyro: A New Beginning around maybe ages 6-7? And upon Googling the release date of that game, it was released when I would've been 5, so I may have been around ages 5-6 when I played that game. Or, another example, "I don't remember what age I was when I played Poptropica, but that game came out in 2007, so I must have been anywhere from 6-8-years-old, likely 7 because I remember playing that game when Ilived in this house and I lived in that house at-" you get the picture. I hope that makes sense? Like I have to rely on objective stuff like "when did this game release, that will tell me how old I might've been when I played it" or something.

Memories feel "out of order." I can't put my memories in order. Like they're all jumbled and all over the place and I have to figure out the timeline myself, I have to figure out the timeline but the timeline keeps changing because I remember so little and have so many missing memories and out-of-context fragments and such and. It's all confusing.

Talk to other people about their childhoods, people who you know do not have DID or OSDD. It might become a bit more obvious to you how little you remember when you start to talk to other people about what they remember about their childhoods. At least for me, when hear people talk about their childhoods, I'm so shocked by how much more they remember than I do.

I grew up changing homes and schools a lot so this might not apply but I basically remember Nothing about most of my elementary schools beyond maybe the name and a few vague memories, etc. and I have many memories from schools that I cannot place WHAT school these memories are from, what age, etc.

Many memories that I can't remember the age, where I was, what was going on, etc. in general. This kinda goes back to "out-of-context memories, memories that don't make sense, etc."

Just a hunch. I always felt like I remembered so little about my childhood, barely remembered things, etc. and I always felt like I had a lot of ""repressed memories""/that it wouldn't surprise me if I did

These are my own personal experiences and since I didn't link any sources here to back these up and I myself don't actually have a lot of understanding of what amnesia for childhood is normal versus what's abnormal/etc., I'd take this post less as scientific fact and more personal experiences.

[darling-i-read-it]

Muffled Laughter - Laugh Part 2

Laugh Part 1 

Any!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader, Any!Joker x reader 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: the reader is having a lot of moral dilemmas, blood/injuries/cleaning up injuries, fighting (between bruce and the reader), let me know if I missed anything! 

Author’s Note: I am keenly aware I’ve been asked to do this multiple times but I loved the first part so much that I wanted to be able to give it my full attention. I think I liked how this part turned out lots <3 Again, I personally didn’t have a batman or joker in mind! I think my joker is very comic centric and therefore vague! 

Tagging those who asked for a part two in the comments here (I hope you guys don’t mind &lt;3): @lover-of-nights, @einxoxo, @joeykissymissy, @twinkledinkle, @burningfanflowercash, @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf, @theitchbbbb, @b4b3ttee, @kitwalker02, @violetparis, @russian-soft-bitch  (holy cannoli i didn’t realize how many people wanted a part 2 lol) 

Summary: When you wake up, the Joker is gone. You’re eager to move on with your life, away from the night of neverending accidents. He however, is not. 

Song: I listened to The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra an unholy amount of times while writing this 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The sun seeping through the windows seemed like a traitor. Gotham never got the sun it so direly needed. Then it would illuminate the gloomy corners, the drug deals, the robberies that littered quiet edges. Your eyes opened slowly and you almost didn’t remember what had happened to you the night before. For a moment it was just you and the sun, relishing in the feeling of it on your face, trying to remember the last time you had seen it so clearly through the window. 

Then your legs started to ache again and it all came back. 

The night before was long. Your hair was still wet from the shower, damp as though it was too stressed to air out. You sat up, looking around. Your small apartment room was untouched. You threw the blankets off, the cold hitting you. Goosebumps littered your legs as you walked into the hallway, entering the living room. The clock above the kitchen counter said it was only seven am. People were going to work now on this nice Thursday morning. They were getting their coffee and trudging through the streets, passing the aftermath of the night before. They had no idea why some of the roads were closed. Most didn’t care to ask. This is Gotham. They didn’t want to know. 

The couch was empty. The blanket was folded. A note was on top of it. You rushed over to it, nimbly picking it up. You sat down, eyes scanning over it quickly. 

Thanks for the water :)

Too another night of chaos

J

The note was the only proof you had housed a criminal for the night. No one would know if you shredded it and tossed it aside. You held it in your hands, like it would run away if you let it. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, rereading the short phrases, looking at the way he signed the J. This could be police evidence. He had pointed a gun at you! 

You looked down at the blanket. He had slept here! You had let him sleep in your house!

It seemed even more ridiculous of a thought in the sunlight. 

A knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You could feel your own breath again. You folded the note and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. You looked through the peephole to find Bruce, standing with a worried look on his face and his hands on his pockets. You closed your eyes tightly. To your left was your broken phone, still shattered down the middle. You opened the door a crack. 

“Hey,” you murmured. You rubbed your eyes. 

“Can I come in?” he asked. You pursed your lips. He didn’t feel inviting. In fact, it felt like he wanted to argue. You were too tired to argue. 

“What happened to hello? Nice to see you? How are you?” 

Bruce wasn’t sure how to approach the events of the night before. He had scoured the streets for you, returning home and finding you gone. He interrogated Alfred more than he had intended. A desk had been broken. 

But here you were, alive, unharmed. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he said deeply. You wearily opened up the door. “What happened to you last night?” “My phone broke when I was walking home.” Would you hold the rest of it to your chest? Did Bruce even deserve to know? He had left you out there by yourself and he hadn’t even come to your house to see if you were alright? “I dropped it.” 

He wanted to push. Is that all? He scanned the room, the blanket on your couch. He needed to know what had happened. 

“Why did you leave the manor?” 

“I got tired of waiting for you.”

“You should have let Alfred call you a cab.” His voice was gentle but it made you feel like a child. 

“I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously not. You broke your phone.” I saw the Joker almost kill you. 

“I made it home didn’t I?” The Joker let me be. 

You should’ve hidden the note better. It stuck out like a sore thumb, sitting on the kitchen counter. Bruce looked around your small apartment, wondering how often he had been in here. You always met at the manor, having no need to visit your place. He sent cars to get you. He tried not to be judgemental. 

“I was worried.” You crossed your arms. 

“I’m fine Bruce.” Why weren’t you telling him what really happened? He expected you to dump it all immediately, to explain that you saw Batman, ever the menacing creature, protecting you from Gotham’s worst. Why didn’t you trust him with that information? 

How did you get home? You had been lost. 

What happened from the time he called you and the time you went to bed? 

“You said you were lost. How did you get home?” 

“I found the street signs. I was just turned around.”

“Why are you lying to me?” 

You bit your tongue. This was a confrontation you didn’t want to have. You shook your head. 

“Leave me be Bruce. Clearly you don’t care to be home when I’m there. We’ve known it needed to come to this.” 

“Come to what?” His eyes went wide. “Are you breaking up with me?” 

You hadn’t wanted to. In fact, you didn’t even mean that when you spoke. You just wanted him gone and this was the quickest way to get him to do it. 

“I’m fed up waiting around for you to decide I’m important to you,” you admitted. “I can’t do that anymore. I can’t see Alfred more than I see you.” 

“I have responsibilities-”

“Everyone has responsibilities Bruce. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Why are you lying?” he begged. You shook your head, backing away. 

“Rich, coming from you. What girl has your attention on the late nights in the office Bruce? You expect me to believe that you’re always home so late because of paperwork?” It was a low blow and you knew it. You had no proof he was cheating. 

You wanted him to leave but you were telling him everything else except to get out. 

There was a genuine hurt over his face. He quickly washed it away. 

“What happened last night?” His voice was more demanding than questioning. He needed to know how you got home. He had to know why you weren’t telling him the truth. He had never felt more like Batman with you than he did now. 

“Nothing,” you said. 

There was a long silence. 

He backed away and out the door. He shut it quietly behind him. 

You were left alone in the apartment once again, feeling like you had hidden a massive part of your life and not a ten hour period. 

-

It was surprisingly easy not to go to the Wayne Manor that night. It felt wrong to back out of the routine but once you had, it was simple. You remained on your own couch, the TV on, the sun down once again. 

You had gone out to get a new phone but called out of work. 

You kept the same number, in case Bruce called. You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say. You had been rude and secretive to him and you didn’t even know if he deserved it. Your morals had been all out of whack lately and you weren’t ready to let him know that. He would scrutinize you like a psychiatrist. He would forget his own issues and pretend you were far worse, like he needed to understand the workings of your brain. 

If you told Bruce Wayne you had housed a fugitive then he would turn you in. At the least, he would break up with you for good. You couldn’t blame him for it. But you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. 

You pictured him staring at his phone, unsure why you were lying, wondering if you were deflecting the cheating allegations onto him because something happened. You focused on the television as your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You hadn't even cheated. Why did it feel like you had?

You were starting to drift into a light sleep when there was a violent knock on the door. 

You sat up and stared at the door, willing another knock. When you were in between sleep and awake, even the most aggressive noise could seem fake. Just as it had the first time though, the knock came, longer now. 

You kicked the blanket off you and dragged yourself over. Through the peephole you expected Bruce, coming to make amends.

The peephole made the Joker look distorted, more so than usual. He had his face down so you couldn’t see him but you recognized the shaky demeanor. You unlocked the door and opened it fully. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. He pushed past you into the kitchen. You shut the door slowly as he rummaged in your cabinets and pulled out a glass. He put it under the tap, filling it up with water. 

His hand gripped the counter, knuckles turning whiter than usual. There was a tenseness in his back that hadn’t been there the night before. His hair was damp or greasy, hanging over his shoulders. 

“Jay?” 

He craned his neck to the side. You saw the side of his face. The makeup was smeared, a dark look over his features. You weren’t sure where the red paint started and the blood began. He drank the water quickly, Adam's apple bobbing. 

He slammed it down onto the counter. You narrowed your eyes, still deeply unsure why he had come back here. You figured he would either want to have you killed or never see you again. A chill went down your back, wondering if he was here to kill you. That look in his eyes was not comforting. 

“Needed some water,” he said darkly. You furrowed your brows. 

He turned to face you completely. 

You tried to suppress your gasp.

He had a large gash over the left side of his face. His shirt was torn, shreds down the front. There was blood all over him. You weren’t sure how much of it was his. He didn’t look like he was in pain but his right eye was swollen shut. He smiled, toothily, dirtily. 

“I was parched.” 

You were still taking it all in. You had seen some bruises and a cut once or twice but this was a whole different ball game. You approached him slowly, eyeing what seemed to be an endless amount of dark red. 

“What happened?”

“Don’t stay dehydrated for too long! I’m the new poster child.” He put his hands on his hips, doing a superhero stance. He relaxed quickly, not able to keep up his ridiculous grin. You met his gaze. It softened a bit. Whatever was running the crazy wheels back there slowed. 

“Can I help?”

“Well don’t just stand there.” You walked away to find a first aid kit. You felt his eyes on you as you walked, searching the cabinets. The last time you had needed it was when you had a cooking mishap. You had no idea how to fix him how he was now. “Bad guys got handsy with blowtorches today,” he explained whimsically. “You should see the other guy.” 

“I’m shaking in my boots.” 

“You’re not wearing shoes.” You laughed gently, shakily.

“It’s an expression.” You grabbed the box, turning back to him. He sat on the table.

“Your laugh is truly unparalleled.” You flushed and looked away. 

 You walked up to him and placed the first aid down, opening it up. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“People tend to start with the lips and then work their way lower darling.” You shook your head. You rummaged around as he watched you. His gaze felt intense and unwavering. You turned the tap on warm. You ran a cloth underneath it. 

Finally you raised it up to his face. 

“Want me to take off my shirt sweets?” He was wearing a suit, though it was hardly distinguishable anymore. He had lost the coat, all that was remaining was the button up and suspenders. Even those were hard to read with how torn up they were. 

“You might have to. You hurt there?”

“You trust me to tell you? Well then I’m hurt everywhere.” You gave him a look. He smiled, that familiar exaggerated smile. To your silence he rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun.” He slid off the suspenders and warily removed his shirt. He had cuts down his chest but nothing nearly as bad as his face. 

“Did the Bat do this to you?” You tried to keep your gaze on the task at hand. No need to admire him. “Some of it. He never gets as close as he’d like.” He shrugged. “His whole ‘no kill’ motto allows for plenty of play time.” 

“This might hurt.”

“I can’t feel a thing.” 

You started to gently dab at the cuts on his chest. He didn’t react in the slightest, allowing you to get rid of the blood.

“Why did you come back?” 

You finally asked the question that had been nagging at you since you saw him through the peephole. You caught his eye only once but refused to make eye contact otherwise. He stared at you shamelessly, admiration or lust in his eyes. 

“I was thirsty.” You opened your mouth to speak again. 

Your phone rang. 

You both looked towards the living room where it was laying on the couch beside your blanket. The TV was on a low hum. You had forgotten to turn it off. You put down the rag and walked over to it. 

“That’s an annoying ringtone.” 

Bruce’s face covered your screen.

“Who is it?” You hit decline and tossed it back onto the couch. 

“No one.” You turned back around to the Joker and instead of facing your moral dilemmas, you picked the rag back up to clean his face. “I think I can clean this with alcohol.” 

“You got any gin? Or grape juice?” 

“You drink those together?” 

“I’m a character.” 

“You can say that again. Also, I meant rubbing alcohol.” 

“I know.” 

You grabbed his chin. He smiled through his pinched cheeks. 

“Don’t move.” 

His eyes remained on you as you started to gently rub his chin. You winced for him because he apparently had superhuman pain tolerance. The gash didn’t look as bad when you got down to it. You starred with a focused gaze, careful over his eye. His makeup smeared. 

You moved back a bit to see how it looked. 

You finally met his gaze. 

“I intend to stay the night,” he explained. “You have a lovely home here Y/N.” You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure what he was getting at. “If only you had a more comfortable place to sleep than the couch,” he teased. “Got any ideas for me?” 

You examined his face, the sly smile on his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked away, breathing gently out of your nose. 

“I don’t let just anybody sleep in my bed.” 

“Selective. I like that in a woman.” You put some rubbing alcohol on a fresh rag. 

“That phone call was from my boyfriend Bruce.” 

“I don’t think cheating is beneath you,” he observed. “You’re going to house a fugitive either way sweets.” You wanted to argue but knew he was right. There was no use in arguing with someone who would win. 

Bruce could come back tonight, you thought. You dismissed it. Why would he? He had never cared before. 

You raised your new rag to the Jokers face. Before you could make contact he swooped in, lips crashing into yours. Your fingers extended out of surprise, dropping the rag onto the counter. He hummed against your lips. 

It was almost like he was laughing. 

Your phone rang again on the couch. You ignored it this time. 

Final Part

[brighteststar707]

Promise Me One Thing

Part one of Don't Say My Name

Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Read on AO3 (Registered users only)

✦ Saeyoung x gn!Reader

✦ Words: 2840

✦ TW: Death mention

You remember his fury when you ran into V just a few days ago outside the compound. Anger had transformed him into a stranger. But you also remember the fondness in his voice as he talked about their history over the phone. His dedication, his appreciation. Were a few days of discoveries enough to undo all of that history?

For as long as you have known him, Saeyoung has never been able to sit still. There is always an undercurrent of nervous energy running through him – a side effect of having to grow up the way he did – keeping him alert at all times. You can see it in the nervous tap-tap-tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel as he drives, in his endless pacing, in the way he fidgets with your hand or plays with your hair while you’re close to him. Even in his sleep, he tosses and turns and mumbles incoherent sentences.

So, seeing him asleep at the hospital now is equal parts fascinating and unnerving. He is lying almost perfectly still, propped up on a few pillows, his breathing deep and even. It’s different to how he looked immediately after surgery – pale and bruised, like fighting to stay alive for that long had drained everything out of him. Now, he looks like he’s at peace. His skin has got most of its colour back, his lips are slightly pursed, his expression is serene. He’s beautiful and alive. You couldn’t ask for anything more.  

You treasure every second of peace he can get, because with the news you still have to deliver, you know it’s going to be short-lived. You had reassured Jumin that you would tell Saeyoung about everything that had happened at Mint Eye, if only to not make him relive it again. A light had gone out in Jumin, and you know it was taking him all his strength to handle everything else at the hospital.

When he first woke up from the anaesthetic, you gave Saeyoung a short version of what happened at Mint Eye, enough to give him context and reassure him, not enough to shock him (the nurse had sternly reminded you that he was still in a fragile state and needed rest). You told him that Jumin had rescued you not long after he passed out, that Saeran is in care in the same hospital. But even being half-conscious couldn’t stop him from being suspicious. He had heard the tone of Jumin’s voice, flat and monotone, from behind his door, and could see the weariness in your eyes. Even Vanderwood, on their brief visit, had been acting oddly. He tried to keep asking questions, but he was barely able to keep his eyes open. You encouraged him to take the painkillers he was given and promised that you would answer whatever questions he wanted to ask after he rested.

You had been spending the time he was asleep thinking through the events at Mint Eye over and over again, trying to string your words together the right way.

It’s not that you don’t remember. The memory of it is all there, a slideshow that plays every time you close your eyes.

The deadly glint of light catching on the gun. The shrill desperate shouts of someone whose reality has shattered. Saeran clinging onto the gun like it is the last thing that will save him. Saeyoung’s head on your lap, his blood warm and sticky on your hands as you and Vanderwood try to protect him from the crowd. 

Then the bang. The ringing silence after. The gasp of realization, of a bullet finding home. A soft ‘oh’.

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding. The thud of a body hitting the carpet, and then the screaming that never seems to end.

A part of you is still there, you’re sure of it. Reliving it over and over.

The problem is that you cannot gauge how Saeyoung is going to react to the news. You remember his fury when you ran into V just a few days ago outside the compound. Then the disgust on his face as he kicked him in the cell, over and over as you could do nothing but watch and beg him to stop. Anger had transformed him into a stranger. He seemed almost younger in those moments, funnelling years of frustration into every movement and word.

But you also remember the fondness in his voice as he talked about their history over the phone. His dedication, his appreciation. Were a few days of discoveries enough to undo all of that history?

There is only one way to find out, and you are about to, because you can see his eyelashes fluttering.

There is some relief in seeing him open his eyes again. He returns to you, waking up part by part like one of his little creations powering up. He smiles at you softly, and there's something there that's saying I can't believe you're still here with me.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” you say affectionately.

“Hi.” His voice is raspy with sleep and disuse. He seems content. You wonder what he was dreaming of.

You wonder how long it will last.

Already he starts to shuffle around. You help him sit up properly, offer him some water to drink. He eyes the bandages on his arm warily and reaches for your hand with his free one to distract himself from it. As you fill him in on who has come to visit and give him updates on Saeran’s situation, he taps his fingers against your knuckles. By the time you finish, he is more alert and you know that he’s itching to ask you about what you’re not telling him. It’s a wonder he has even waited this long. Maybe a part of him wanted to hang on to this peace for a little while longer too.

But now the knowledge that there is something that he is missing is eating away at him, filling his mind with terrible scary ideas. You can see it; his smile is fading and he is distracted even as he listens to you talk. It is the guilt of a protector who put down his weapons for just a second to rest and feels like he has failed the people he has sworn to take care of.

No doubt the things he is coming up with are convoluted and awful. It would be kinder to tell him the truth now. To stop him from worrying.

You squeeze his hand gently to draw his attention back to you.

“Saeyoung, there is something you need to know about what happened at Mint Eye, while you were… unconscious.” Hands sticky with blood, his body helpless in your arms. “Stop me if you need a moment.”

He sits up straighter, braces himself for bad news. You decide to start with the facts first, the most important part. The details can come in time, when he can handle it.

“There was an altercation at Mint Eye, before Jumin and his team arrived. V… was shot. He’s... dead.”

It comes out clumsy, your voice wobbles.

- The gasp of realization, of a bullet finding home. The thud of a body hitting the carpet. The screaming that never seems to end -

But this is not the time to get caught up in the memories. Saeyoung has gone still again. This is different to the stillness of sleep. He is frozen stiff and his jaw is clenched. It looks unnatural on him. He swallows visibly, and it takes him a second to find what he wants to say.

“He’s really… not like last time…?”

You shake your head. “I saw him myself. It’s real. The others are planning his funeral already.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his expression still blank. It’s not like at the apartment, when he was trying to process the reality of Saeran’s situation. There, fear and confusion were painted clearly on his face. Every movement was jittery, every word came out sharp because he was scared. It sounds like this news has taken something from him – or maybe changed something in him.

He isn’t looking at you. His eyes are blank and unfocused, aimed at the black TV screen opposite his bed.

“Saeyoung?"

“How did it happen?” His voice is monotone. It’s not that he actually cares, but that that he needs to know.

So much for waiting until he’s ready. The best thing you can do for him now is give him the full truth.

“There was chaos after you passed out. Saeran… he had his gun out. I’m not sure what he was thinking, he was shouting and trying to defend himself from all those people.” You stop and suppress a shudder.

If it’s possible, at the mention of Saeran’s name, Saeyoung grows stiller. Like a rubber band pulled taut, about to snap. His attention is fully on you. He can piece the rest of the story together, but he needs you to say it anyway, to make it true.

“It went off, and V jumped in front of the bullet.”

He squeezes his eyes shut like he is fighting off a headache.

“Who knows about this?”

“Only Jumin. He hasn’t told the others the… circumstances of V’s death yet.”

“Good.”

You don’t like this stillness in him. It’s like he’s about to shatter at any moment.

“What are you thinking?”

“…I’m not sure.”

But you can see it, even if he can't yet. The clenched jaw, his grip on your hand. The way his entire body has gone still. It's defeat, and in his defeat, there's anger.

You remember his frustrated pacing in the apartment as he waited for V to pick up his calls. The muttering under his breath, all the questions that were building up. Then, when he saw him at the compound, the questions he spat at him. Questions he punctuated with each kick in the basement. Over and over again, anguish and fury flowing out of him like he was an open wound. Why? How could you? What the hell happened?

His life had fallen apart in the span of a week. Of course he was angry. He had bloodied his hands for someone who had been lying to him all along. He had only told you some of the things he had been forced to do at the agency, but it was enough for you to understand. A part of him had been lost forever when he chose to become Seven Zero Seven.

Then there was Saeran. Hurt beyond recognition, exploited and abused in ways that Saeyoung was supposed to be protecting him from. What was the point of it all?

"What about her?" He says suddenly, his voice sharp. You don't have to ask who he's referring to.

"Rika is... I'm not sure. She was brought to this hospital, but she isn't really... speaking at the moment."

"Not speaking?"

"Jumin said they diagnosed her with something called aphasia? Ever since V... she hasn't said anything."

And like that, he shuts off completely. His last hope for answers, for accountability has gone silent.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Saeyoung?"

He softens, if only slightly.

"Can you please... stay?"

Stay? The thought of leaving his room, let alone the hospital hadn't even occurred to you.

"Of course."

He relaxes a little bit - there is still some tightness in his jaw - but the stillness stays with him. He doesn't fidget, doesn't try to get up, he just sits resting against the pillows of his bed staring out of the window. You know his mind is miles away, trying to fit these new pieces of his life together, trying to process the blow he has just been dealt.

Trying not to let the anger consume him completely.

˚　.˚　　　　✦ 　　　 ˚. 　˚

The soft tapping of footsteps and murmurs of doctors as they walk down the hall. The opening tune to some sitcom rerun playing on one of the TVs. People arguing behind the closed doors of a patient room. The smell of antiseptic and the creaky plastic chairs.

If hell exists, Saeyoung thinks, it’s a hospital waiting room. After all the hours he has spent here between visiting hours, he should know.

He sits slumped in one of those awful chairs, head in his hands. He must look like a wreck to anybody passing – the doctors certainly didn’t hide their disapproval – but he doesn’t care. He hasn’t had the presence of mind to make sure he looks presentable. It has only been a few days since he was discharged, but he knows that he's a mess, barely eating and sleeping, propelled onward only by his determination to help Saeran.

Today’s visit hadn’t gone well. He couldn’t be in the room for more than a few minutes before Saeran started threatening to hurt him. Saeyoung was more scared that he would hurt himself. He left quickly after that with a quick reminder that he’d be back tomorrow.

The doctors are getting increasingly impatient with both of them and he isn’t sure what to do about it. He plays nice for them, smiles placidly and thanks them again (for what exactly, he’s not sure) in the hopes that they’ll take pity on them and hold off on any drastic plans for just a little bit longer.

The whole charade makes him want to scream.

But he doesn't. Instead, that anger and frustration builds up inside him, as it has been for the past few days (weeks? months? years?). He doesn't see a way out of it.

Saeyoung is no stranger to anger. He was raised on it, a resource more plentiful than food or comfort ever was in his house. He breathed it in and let it take hold, learned to turn it back on the people around him without a moment's notice. It was the only way to survive in his world. And there was a lot to be angry at. His mother and father, for having him and his brother and then failing them both so spectacularly. At the agency for his endless stream of work. At the world, for putting even the kindest people through pain.

It takes physical effort nowadays, to keep from breaking apart. He has to walk away, has to hold his breath, has to keep his body tense. He has to, because if he lets go for even a second, even he isn't sure what the fallout will be. All he knows is that it will be messy, destructive. If he starts screaming, he may not stop. He cannot afford to lose it. Not yet. Saeran needs him. You need him (or is that one the other way around?).

There is also a part of him (however reluctant he may be to admit it) that is scared of what will be left of him without that anger.

These visits are all he has the energy for. Even after detoxing and the little treatment he has allowed, Saeran is thin and pale, all bones and bruises, the opposite of that smiling boy from the pictures that Saeyoung had come to associate with his brother. When he isn’t staring out of his hospital room window at the clouds, he’s screaming and lashing out at the people around him. When the doctors listed off all the drugs they found in his system, Saeyoung had to leave the room to avoid breaking something.

He doesn't recognise himself anymore. He has worn many masks, but even he cannot find a trace of himself in this stranger with the clenched jaw and empty eyes that looks back at him from the mirror.

He cannot stand to be near the RFA for very long amounts of time. Their grief makes him itch; their pity makes his blood boil. They have been walking on eggshells around him, much the same as they have been with Jumin. Neither of them appreciates it much, if Saeyoung's observations are anything to go by. Jumin is absent, inexpressive. Drunk, more often than not, he reckons. He wonders if he resents V too for throwing himself in front of that bullet.

He even reluctantly keeps his distance from you for fear of what might happen if you try to get through to him. If there's anyone who will see through the mess he has become, he knows it's you. After the life he had promised you, he feels like this version of him would be a disappointment to you.

God, he thinks. How did they end up here?

You will have to say goodbye to Saeran. Rika and I will take care of him. We'll make sure we save him.

Saeran had thrown the TV remote at Saeyoung’s head as he was about to leave the room. It would have hit him if Saeran’s hands weren’t shaking so much from withdrawals. He wishes it had.

We really want the two of you to be happy.

Right. Look where they ended up. This is happy.

He isn't sure how much time has passed when he finally stands up from the waiting room chair and leaves the hospital. He robotically drives himself home, returns to his desk, and sits in silence. He will probably sit here until he cannot keep his eyes open any longer.