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samiiy20 · 2 months

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♡ 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ♡

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Lee Minho x fem!reader 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: When you thought it was finally your time to shine, fate plays against you by pairing you with the person you hate the most, making you have to work together to win a dance competition. 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: Slow burn, rivals/enemies to lovers, smut 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 11k (damn it, sorry) 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕

N/A: Sorry for the wait, but here it is at last. I'm actually really proud of this, it's my longest work so far so if you like it please reblog it, that would help me a lot. I thought of making this a sort of mini series of the kind of love you would have with the other members, so look out for news soon.

masterlist II tag list

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Mention of anxiety attacks (if you are sensitive don't read it) Insults, nicknames: (darling) ,unprotected sex (don't do it), semi-public sex, oral sex, fingering. (I'm sorry if I forgot something) A little bit of angust if you squint your eyes.

Dancing was everything to you, ever since you could remember you knew you were destined to shine on stage, although it wasn't always easy. Over the years you had to do many things, you gave up many others and even lost relationships with important people to pursue your dreams, you worked very hard to get into a prestigious academy and when you finally did you worked even harder to make a name for yourself in the industry, but it was harder than you thought, but still you weren't willing to give up.

You trained for a long time, so much that sometimes you forgot the hours you spent in the practice room, but when your name was among the highest positions you felt that everything was worth it, but there were times when you felt the opposite, no matter how much you concentrated and dedicated time sometimes it wasn't enough, that's why you were determined to win this competition.

When you heard your name you took a breath and ignored all the looks from your classmates and went on stage. The pressure in your chest increased with each step, but you continued walking until you reached the center and looked up to try to see the judges, but with the light reflecting off you it was impossible to know where they were.

You got into position, raised your arms, stretched your legs and stood on your toes.

The music resonated loudly throughout the place, but only you could feel it running through your veins as you danced, it was as if it entered your body and took control of it. You felt like you were in another place when you danced, you felt like for a moment everything else ceased to exist and there was only room for the music.

You gave every part of yourself to that dance and when the music finally stopped you were aware of your heart beating strongly. You opened your eyes and you were back on stage. Your breathing was accelerated and your feet hurt, but you could only smile as you tried to recover.

“Thank you very much” you gave a small bow, giving way to the nerves that invaded your body and you left the stage to wait for the judges’ final decision. The other people waited just as anxiously as they watched the number of participants getting smaller and smaller.

You stayed to look at the others, but none of them was better than the last, many fell or made mistakes because of their nerves and that only made you feel more confident for a moment, until you saw him.

Lee Minho.

He was new, but he earned the teachers’ recognition easily, something that bothered you since it took you several years for the teacher to even remember your name, but after finding out that his family was rich and had enough money to buy a place anywhere it only made your hatred towards him grow.

You always avoided him wherever you went and if you met him by mistake you just ignored him, you couldn’t stand people like him, crushing the effort and time of others just for a little money.

Still, what bothered you the most about him was that despite everything he did pretty well. When it was his turn, people crowded behind the curtains to watch him and you rolled your eyes, but you didn't leave.

“He's amazing” you heard someone say “he's sure to get the lead role” you sighed heavily and turned to see the person who said that comment in your presence and he just lowered his head when your eyes met.

The music started playing through the speakers and he made the first move. You knew the choreography by heart, you had seen him practice over and over again. His movements were delicate and he had perfect control over his body, his arms moved to the beat of the music and his feet marked his steps with harmony.

Lee Minho had a unique glow among everyone, he stood out among the rest with his simplicity and fluid movements, in addition, he was tall, with a sharp face and full lips, but his gaze was cold and calculating. It was like Minho was born with a natural talent that made him steal the attention in any room he entered and that, too, bothered you.

You peeked your head out a little and saw how everyone was lost appreciating his dance, a small part inside you knew it, knew that all your effort had been for nothing (again) and it was all because of him. You walked away from the place with a cloud of ideas in your head and you felt a pressure in your chest and labored breathing, you looked around but your vision began to get blurry.

“Shit” you whispered trying to find a lonely place because you knew what was coming.

You tried to control yourself, but every second that passed was worse. Your hands began to shake and you felt an invisible pressure surround your body, but you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw the bathroom door.

You ran and checked that there was no one there before closing the door and collapsing on the floor. There was no air left and you felt like you could faint at any moment.

You closed your eyes and tried to control your tears, but you knew it was impossible with all those thoughts tormenting you, so you let the sorrow envelop you.

When you came out of the bathroom again, everyone was gathered to hear the judges' decision. Despite your swollen eyes and red nose, you walked among everyone with your head held high and noticed Minho in the distance along with two other people, but you sat far away from the rest, where the shadows would hide you a little.

Everyone was nervous and you could feel the uncertainty in the environment, you just wanted all this to end so you could breathe.

The judges approached where everyone was gathered and the room was filled with absolute silence, everyone was holding hands or praying in their heads to be chosen, but everyone knew that only one could have the lead role.

“First of all we want to thank you for participating in this competition, you have all done amazing” you rolled your eyes, you didn’t have time to listen to a whole sermon, you just wanted to hear your name or leave that place “but after discussing it for a while we have made an important decision” everyone in the room had stopped breathing and you could see some of them closing their eyes.

You hated the wait, the silence was eating you up inside and everything around you seemed to shrink, people seemed to have disappeared and you were alone, there was no one who could help you with the pressure that was taking over you, you were cursing in your mind until suddenly between the fog of thoughts you heard your name.

Everyone turned to look at you and a few applauded, but most just sighed tiredly from the defeat. “Please come forward.” You were still dizzy, but as best you could, you stood up and walked past the judges. The weight of your body vanished when you saw everyone on the other side and you knew it had all been worth it.

You dared to look at them one by one, but when you met Minho’s gaze, you stopped to savor the victory. Minho just narrowed his eyes and smiled. You felt a shiver run through your body when he looked you up and down.

“Please don’t be discouraged,” said one of the judges. “We have something new for this occasion.” The people again became agitated and the whispers became louder and louder. “This time we have decided to give the opportunity to two people.”

“What?!” Your voice wasn't the only one that echoed through the place, everyone was surprised by the new announcement and you didn't know how to react, this had been your chance to shine and now you'll have to share it? People were once again in an uproar and the whispers were getting louder, but your mind could only think of the worst.

“We want to implement a new dynamic” said another of the judges present to calm the people “so the other person will be…” people were once again in an uproar, you closed your eyes praying for a miracle but then you heard it “Lee Minho”

You heard some people sigh, others applaud and shout, but in your mind there was only room for one thought as you saw Minho's triumphant smile approaching. You wanted to run, scream, throw yourself through the window and run away from here, but your feet didn't move, you were static with a lost look while Minho stood next to you.

“It will be a pleasure to work with you, darling,” he whispered to you while the judges were still saying something that you couldn't understand while your heart was pounding hard in your chest wanting to get out, the only thing you wanted at this moment was to wake up from this nightmare.

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You had prepared yourself hours before for this moment, you had arrived about 10 minutes ago, but you couldn't even raise your hand to knock knowing that on the other side was your worst nightmare. You breathed a few more times and counted in your head to do it, but the right moment never seemed to come.

"Damn it" you whispered trying again, you closed your eyes and tried to breathe calmly "one… Two…"

"Just do it" You opened your eyes and turned to that unknown voice, but you would have preferred not to.

Minho was in the hallway leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a backpack on his shoulders.

"How long have you been there?"

"The same amount of time you've been trying to knock on that door" you sighed and for a moment you felt embarrassed "it's not that hard, you know?"

You weren't going to talk to him if it wasn't necessary and after the small humiliation you finally decided to open the door. The room was empty and you got worried when you heard footsteps behind you, but you didn't turn around to look at him.

You threw your stuff in a corner and sat on the floor, you knew the teacher wouldn't be long in coming so you decided to start stretching.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Minho in the other corner of the room, his gaze on you was heavy and although you tried to ignore it something inside you made you want to look at him, dare him.

You dared to look at him in the mirror and held his gaze, no words were needed to read the anger in his eyes, you knew he would have preferred to keep the spot for himself too, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of giving up your spot just because of his presence.

Before you could say or do anything, the teacher entered the room and began giving them orders. You took a breath and silently prayed that you could survive the rest of the day.

“That’s it” you dropped to the floor as soon as the teacher turned around and walked out the door. You didn’t expect her to be more strict than in class, your feet hurt and your whole body felt tense, but according to her this was nothing more than stretching.

“I don’t understand why they chose you” Minho said suddenly starting his game to annoy you, but you ignored him knowing that it would annoy him more “anyone would do it better than you” you pressed your lips together to hold back the words, but you were starting to feel that little flame inside you start to burn

“Then why aren’t they here?” you answered, unable to hold it in and grabbed your things to leave before you lost control.

You left the room as quickly as possible and ran down the stairs to enter the classroom, where the atmosphere was no better than being alone with Minho. You knew there was hate and envy floating in the air, but you ignored it. You always knew that sometimes people hid their true intentions and you were terrified of hanging out with the wrong person, which is why you preferred to be alone.

The class wasn't the best either and you just left there as soon as your day was over. The way home was long, but you preferred to walk to clear your mind a little, but when you got there you just sighed because you knew no one would welcome you.

Sometimes you just wanted someone to talk to you a little, to accompany you to dinner or to invite you out at night, but all you had was an old cat that only meowed when he saw you arrive, but even so you were all you had and you loved him.

You picked him up in your arms and stroked his head as you threw your things away to head to the kitchen.

“Did you miss me?” the cat purred and you let him go to leave him food that he thanked you for by meowing before eating.

Your night routine was nothing special, eating, bathing, watching your favorite series and going to bed leaving a space in the bed for your cat. You looked at the window and sighed wondering if all your decisions in the past were the best idea, you used to have friends, you got the best grades in university and your parents had been proud of you once. You turned over in bed when you felt your cat and hugged him trying to hold back your tears.

“Do you love me?” the cat meowed and you burst into tears feeling an emptiness in your chest.

You had pursued your dreams, but at what cost?

You had lost everything.

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The next day wasn't any better than the day before, or the next, or the next. The whole week you found yourself stuck in a routine between having to endure seeing Minho's face every day, having to endure the hateful looks of your classmates, and your boring routine at home.

The days didn't seem to get any better and when the teacher finally decided on the choreography they would present you were a little happy.

"Okay, now we'll start the real classes" the teacher proceeded to explain that she had been analyzing them to see their strengths and weaknesses, she made some recommendations and then proceeded to show them the dance floor while she performed each one's part separately. You memorized all the steps you could and went over them in your head "your turn"

You didn't turn to look at Minho and you stood in the center of the dance floor waiting for the music to start playing, but when you felt Minho stand behind you and place a hand on your waist you looked at him in the mirror. He didn't look down and you tensed up a little taking a step forward, but he grabbed you and came close to your ear.

“Don't look at me, darling, I wasn't the one who put the steps”

“Don't call me that” Minho just smiled and before you could say anything else the music started and you just rolled your eyes and focused on dancing.

The times you had to interact with Minho your body would get tense and you couldn't stand to look at him, you looked away somewhere else and just focused on doing it right on your own. The teacher corrected the mistakes and they repeated the choreography over and over again, but that didn't make the experience of dancing with Minho any better.

“Again”

You held back a sigh and closed your eyes, your head was starting to hurt. You got into position and took a breath to endure it all again, even though your legs were burning from the effort you were making.

You felt a look and looked up only to see Minho squinting, you hated the way he looked at you, as if you were a sculpture he didn't understand and tried to decipher, as if his gaze could make him see beyond your head and be able to see your thoughts.

“Stop looking at me”

“You're shaking” you gritted your teeth and just looked away “are you scared?”

The music started to play and you moved to the side following the steps, but when you were close to him again you couldn't stay quiet.

“Scared? Of what exactly?” Minho took your hand and you stood on your toes on one foot while he spun you around “of you?”

“Yes” You rolled your eyes at the same time he let go and you continued dancing until you were facing him.

“Don’t make me laugh” Minho grabbed you by the waist and you let your weight fall back while stretching your arms “I feel nothing for you but hate” you heard a dry laugh

“It must be hard, right?” you raised your eyebrows, but you didn’t stop dancing around him while the music was still playing “I can’t feel hate for you” you missed a step because of his words and you only heard the teacher’s voice in the distance while your thoughts were scrambling in your head, what did that mean?

“You lie”

“I don’t” he said when you crossed in front of him and when you were in front of him again for a second to gain momentum and jump you heard him “the only thing I feel for you is pity”

His words echoed in your mind, you didn’t notice how close the floor was and you stumbled. You fell to your knees, but you didn’t try to get up. His words affected you more than you thought and it made you burn inside

“Get up girl, this isn’t over” the teacher’s voice made you look up, but then someone interrupted in the room “take a break” she said before leaving them

You looked at the floor as Minho’s words echoed over and over in your head. You wanted to throw yourself at him, hit him, yell at him, but instead you just closed your eyes and tried to think of something else.

“You’re pathetic” you looked up, but you didn’t care much until he spoke again “you haven’t done anything to deserve the position”

You wouldn’t let that go unnoticed, he could have said anything else and you would get angry, but he didn’t know all the effort and sacrifice you had made to get here and you wouldn’t let him say that lightly. You stood up and closed the distance, you pushed his chest, but his crooked smile only made you want to hit him with all your might.

"You're nobody to say that," you pointed a finger at his chest as he raised his hands, "you know nothing."

"Do you think that with your miserable efforts you'll reach the top?" The rage inside you was spilling out everywhere and there was nothing that could stop it.

"I've worked hard to be here…" your voice cracked a little, but you continued "But of course, you wouldn't understand… after all, your place was already bought from the beginning" the words were left floating in the air and you noticed how his smile faded, his eyes were two burning black points that would burn the world if they could, but you stayed there, burning with him.

Minho couldn't stand being around you, everything about you made him ignite the anger inside him, your mere presence in the room bothered him, since he saw you dance for the first time he knew it immediately, you were that kind of person that bothered him more than anything in the world, that kind of deluded person that risks everything for their dreams.

“Your efforts are of no use here, darling,” he said suddenly, you clenched the shirt in your fists as he held your hands, “you are pathetic wherever you go,” his voice was filled with hate and you could see it in his eyes, “why don’t you do everyone a favor and go back to where you belong? To that filthy little place…”

His words were choked off before you could allow him to continue, you had freed yourself from his grip and left a mark on his cheek. You weren’t going to let him continue talking badly about you, you had enough with having to share the position, you wouldn’t let him insult you in any other way.

Your eyes were burning and you didn’t know how to speak, so you just pushed him away and got out of there, you ran through the hallways with a pressure in your chest that you already knew. You opened the first door you found and locked yourself in one of the empty rooms before falling again.

You touched your chest and tried to take a breath, but you knew it was useless, that lonely and empty feeling had made itself present and you knew you couldn't do anything to stop it. You stifled a scream deep inside yourself when you remembered his words, everything around you faded away and you let yourself be carried away to the depths of that feeling.

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The hatred for Minho did nothing but grow from that day on, you didn't speak to him if he spoke to you at all and you didn't even bother to look at him anymore. Plus, you were fighting the inner voice in your head that screamed all your doubts about your future.

You had so many other things to think about, like for example the choreography you were dancing, but with everything else you couldn't think clearly and you were making too many mistakes, so much so that the teacher had left a while ago, but Minho insisted on continuing and you simply agreed almost without realizing it.

"To the right" you heard before colliding with Minho "don't you know where your right is?" you rolled your eyes and sighed, you no longer had the spirit to continue doing this, your body was tired and your mind scrambled with a thousand thoughts. Plus, you weren't going to put up with Minho's insults.

You walked around the room and grabbed your things, but before you left the room Minho crossed your path. You looked up angrily and sighed.

“Get away”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as you stepped aside and he did the same “this isn’t over”

“It’s over for me” once again he blocked your path and you gritted your teeth

“No” you closed your eyes tired of all this

“I won’t say it again” you warned him pointing your finger at his chest, but that didn’t seem to intimidate him

“You’re not taking this seriously”

“As if that matters to you” you said with venom in every word “after this you can continue as if nothing happened” Minho let out a sigh

“You think so?” you hesitated to answer him for a moment, you didn’t know what he meant, but it seemed like there was something else behind his words, but right now you didn’t care.

“Move” Minho blocked your way again and you were starting to get annoyed again

“We have to do this”

“What if I don’t want to do this? What are you going to do?” Minho stood there and you threw things aside, you pushed his body but he didn’t move “Why are you even doing this? You’ve never had to fight for what you want” you said feeling like everything you had kept inside was starting to emerge “I’m tired of doing everything just for nothing” you said almost like a confession while you were still trying to push him away

“Do you think you’re the only one who has problems?”

“Of course not, but…” you took a breath, this was absurd “do you even know everything I had to go through to get here? Of course not, you don’t know shit” you took a breath and threw out your words before he did it first “I had to give up a good life, with a good career, where I was sure I would make tons of money, I had friends until I found out they were just idiots” your voice started to break as you remembered everything, but you needed to continue, keeping everything to yourself for so long consumed you and you just let it out like a bomb that had been activated and couldn’t be stopped “my parents… they decided to act like I didn’t exist because this path wouldn’t take me anywhere and when I tried to prove them wrong… you appear…” you hit his chest and bowed your head shedding your tears.

Minho had remained silent, he felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say or do, he just stood there watching you break down little by little and your eyes spilled the sea of tears that you had held back for so long.

He didn't want to say it and he wasn't going to, but a part of him knew how you felt, he knew that feeling and when you looked up at him he could see it, he could see the emptiness in your eyes and the loneliness inside you, but he couldn't do anything but look at you.

After coming back to reality you realized that you were crying in front of Minho, shame took over you and you just pushed him with all your strength and ran down the hall, you needed to get away from that place, you needed to get away from Minho, get away from all the thoughts that ran through your mind and clouded your vision, but you knew that no matter how hard you ran you had nowhere to go.

With your heart racing, your mind clouded and your vision blurry you managed to reach the stairs, but before you could continue moving forward someone called you, you turned around for a second and saw Minho running after you. You took a wrong step and felt your foot slip.

The last thing you felt was the immense, sharp pain of the blows to your body and foot. When you finished rolling down the stairs, all you could see was the ceiling covered in a bit of darkness. You couldn't move even if you tried. The floor seemed comforting for a moment and you stayed there, right in that position while everything around you seemed to fade away along with everything else.

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You were sitting in one of the many seats in the theater, front row, but you were too small and you just wanted to go home to play, but your mother asked you to be patient. Suddenly the lights went out and you felt a shiver run through your body when you noticed someone walking on the stage and then, the lights turned on focusing on her.

The music started playing and she began to dance, her hands moved delicately and it seemed like her feet made her float in the air. You were left with your mouth open and the whole time you had the feeling of watching the best thing in the world. When everything was over the theater was filled with applause, everyone seemed to admire and adore her.

At that moment you knew, you wanted to be like her.

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Tears were still running from your eyes when you woke up, your head and some parts of your body hurt, you remembered the fall on the stairs and you reacted, but when you sat up you realized you weren't in the academy. You were in a big bed with sheets covering your body and a rag on your head, everything around you was unknown and an alarm went off inside you.

You quickly sat up pushing the sheets, but when you tried to stand up your foot felt a pain that made you fall to the floor. You cursed and grabbed the edge of the bed to stand up again, but when you poked your head out you saw a cat in the middle of the bed that meowed when it saw you, but it made you let out a small cry from the fright.

The door suddenly opened and you stood still when you saw Minho.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“You? What are you doing here?” Minho raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his face

“It’s my house”

“What?!” You stood up with effort and complained a little about the sharp pain in your foot

“You fell down the stairs” Minho ran his hands through his hair and you noticed that he seemed tired “I… didn’t know what to do” your eyes met for a moment, but the next second you looked away remembering everything that had happened “I don’t know where you live… nobody really does” you bit your lip when you heard it and everything seemed to make sense

You felt embarrassed, thinking that Minho helped you after everything you confessed, but, even so, that didn’t free you from everything he had said about you. You sat on the edge of the bed because of a sharp pain in your foot and looked at your foot.

He was kneeling and you were scared for a moment thinking that you wouldn’t be able to dance, although a part of you was glad about it.

“You’ll be fine in a few days, it’s just a small sprain” Minho said

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been through something similar” you looked at your foot again, you didn’t know how long it would take for the swelling to go down and you sighed “that’s nothing, you’ll be able to walk in a couple of days”

The cat meowed taking you both out of its bubble, Minho approached and picked it up petting it, reminding you of your own cat.

“I have to go” you said hurriedly

“It’s raining” you paid attention for a moment and looked at the window to see that the sky was grey and the glass was full of small drops of water

“Shit” you complained

“You can stay”

“No” you said getting up and trying to take a few steps, but you stumbled, although you didn’t fall “it’s too late”

“Then let me take you home”

“No”

“Are you planning to walk in the rain in that state?” His gaze scanned you from top to bottom and stopped at your aching foot. You gritted your teeth. You knew you couldn’t walk, but you weren’t going to accept Minho doing anything else for you, not after what happened before.

“If I have to crawl home, I will do it just to be away from you.” Minho sighed and let go of the cat as he took a few steps to where you were. You wanted to get away, but you couldn’t and you just looked up.

“Then let me…”

“No, I won’t allow you to keep doing… this,” you said, raising your arms. “I don’t need your mercy, or your help. I can do it alone like I always have.” Minho stood still, looking at you with a strange expression that you couldn’t understand. “Do you expect me to thank you? Is that why you did all this?”

“No” Minho walked away without another word, but before reaching the door he stopped “If you want to leave someone else can take you home, if not, you can crawl home to get away from me” the cat got off the bed and followed him when you heard his last words “but not forever, darling”

The ride home was silent, the driver didn't speak to you besides asking your address but you were grateful for that, you didn't want to talk, you just wanted to get home and lie down on the bed. Although questions about Minho were starting to form in your mind.

When you opened the door a loud meow greeted you and you could only sigh in relief to see your cat. You picked him up and walked through the house to go give him some food.

“I’m sorry baby, I know you’re hungry” you said petting him when he took a big bite of the food “I was… busy” you knew it was absurd to try to explain it to him, but still something inside you needed to get it out “actually… I don’t know what happened” you sat on the floor and spread your legs while petting the feline “I fell down the stairs and then someone… helped me, although I don’t understand why, he didn’t owe me anything” you sighed and looked at the ceiling “he’s… he’s… an idiot, right?” the cat just meowed and kept eating.

That night you couldn’t sleep well, you had very strange dreams where Minho appeared and every time you woke up you hit yourself on the head to make him go away, but you couldn’t do it, plus you felt like his damn scent had stayed with you and you screamed into the pillow when you couldn’t do anything to get rid of it.

You tossed and turned in bed, but nothing could take your thoughts away from Minho and you hated him. You needed to calm down, but anything you thought about reminded you of him. You stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity and when you were finally managing to fall asleep it was when you thought of dark, cold, calculating eyes.

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Your foot still hurt a little, but you could bear it. You arrived early to rehearsal and you were surprised to see the empty room. You stood in the middle of the room for a moment and looked at yourself in the mirror, but you couldn't bear to look at yourself for too long without turning to your thoughts.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. A light melody began to play in your head and as if your body was moving on its own, you began to follow the melody. For a moment, all your worries, thoughts and feelings disappeared.

You let yourself go and danced around the room without any ties. It was just you and the music in your head. You danced for yourself and poured everything you felt into your dance. You felt every fiber move inside you. You felt your arms and legs synchronize to take you away from there and for the first time in a long time, you could feel like you were you again.

When you opened your eyes again, a part of you felt lighter, as if dancing had brought back a part of you that you had abandoned long ago. You smiled, trying to hold back your tears.

“Wow, you know how to dance.” You turned around suddenly only to find Minho leaning against the door frame.

“Fuck you.”

“I mean it.” He walked into the room, but you stayed where you were without taking your eyes off him. “I see you feel better.” He looked you up and down, and a small shiver ran through your body when he stared at you for too long.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Take this,” he said, handing you a bag, but you didn’t move and raised an eyebrow questioning his action. “It’s for your foot.”

“I don’t want it.” You crossed your arms and looked up. “Do you expect that with this, I’ll forgive you and forget everything you said?”

“I wasn’t the only one who spoke” you felt your cheeks burn a little as you remembered your own words “just take it and that’s it”

“No”

“Why does it bother you so much?” Minho sighed a little tiredly and you noticed the anger in his voice “Is it just because you’re not used to someone caring about you or is it because it’s me?”

Your words drowned in the depths of your chest and you wondered if you had heard correctly. Was he worried? About you? His words floated in your mind for a moment and stirred something inside you. You gritted your teeth and looked away, you didn’t know the answer and you didn’t want to find out right then.

“Just take it” he said annoyed taking your hand and making you hold the bag “and accept it” you were in shock, but you didn’t say anything, Minho walked away from you and left the room before you could say anything.

Once alone again, curiosity made you open the bag only to see a couple of medications and some candy, but among them you saw a chocolate bar and you were left wondering how he knew it was your favorite.

“Idiot” you whispered trying not to smile as you took a small bite.

The days got better, you felt that the rehearsals were more bearable, but you knew that something felt different, something inside you still worried you and made you wonder about the strange change in Minho's behavior. You didn't understand why from one day to the next he started to behave more tolerable with you, he no longer insulted you and he didn't argue with you.

“We're getting closer to the big day, you need to improve a little” the teacher reminded them when they got to the room “you need to give your all, I need you to really give yourselves to the dance, I need you to feel it and transmit it with your movements and your expressions” they both nodded “very well, let's work”

The music started to play throughout the room and you executed your movements automatically. Your arms rose in the air and you tried to endure the little pain that it left you when you stood on your toes.

"They should feel it" you heard the teacher say "transmit it" Minho held you by the waist and lifted your body into the air for a few seconds before meeting you face to face.

His gaze was the same as always, cold with a hint of mysterious darkness, but your body shuddered for a few seconds. He held your arm and guided you with the music through his movements, you focused on continuing to dance and continued spinning and jumping.

The music continued for a while longer, they repeated the choreography a couple more times and you were grateful when someone spoke to the teacher. You went to sit in a corner to catch your breath and check your foot. You sighed in relief when you saw it was okay.

In the distance you saw how Minho lay down on the floor with his limbs stretched out and breathing heavily. You looked at him curiously but quickly undressed your gaze when you noticed that his shirt had risen a little on his abdomen and left a little skin exposed.

You felt your face turn red and you cursed yourself for it, it was just a bit of skin, nothing you hadn't seen before, but somehow it felt different as if it was something forbidden that you weren't supposed to see and yet you looked up again.

His eyes were closed and his breathing had calmed down, it seemed as if he was sleeping, his face was serene and there was no trace of that calculating look, only tranquility.

You looked down a little in fear, but when you saw his toned body something inside you stirred. He had strong arms and his abs were worked.

"I can hear your thoughts up here" you quickly looked away and focused your gaze on the floor

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Please" Minho turned to his side with one hand holding his head "I can feel your gaze on me the whole time"

"I wasn't looking at you" you said nervously trying to defend yourself. Minho smiled and stood up walking towards you

"Liar" you stood in your place feeling your nerves tickling all over your body "if you want to look at me just say it" you were going to say something to him when you saw how he lifted his shirt a little.

"Nobody wants to see you naked"

"Naked? I didn't say that" Minho made his smile bigger and you pressed yourself against the wall when he was closer "do you want to see me naked?"

"Of course not" you claimed almost screaming, feeling your face burn

You heard a laugh and looked up only to see Minho split in half laughing and… You were surprised. You had never seen him laugh like that, he seemed like another person, there was no trace of the person you hated and for a moment you stared at him.

"idiot" you said standing up, you gave him a little push when you passed by him, but he took your hand. When you turned around he wasn't laughing anymore, he was staring at you and you felt a chill

"I have something for you" he reached into one of your pants pockets and pulled out a small chocolate wrapper. You stared at him and didn't know if you should take it, but last time he made you do it so you did it fearfully with a question on the tip of your tongue.

"Why?" Minho seemed to understand and just shrugged his shoulders "why are you doing all this?" You raised your hands tired of trying to figure out his behavior "do you expect me to forgive you?"

"No"

"Then why?" You didn't want to break down in front of him again and you held back your emotions before they got out of control, but a small part of you remembered his words and you couldn't help but say them "is it because of pity?"

"No" He said raising his voice, he lowered his head and sighed heavily "it's just that…" Your eyes met for a moment, but this time it was different, you could see a little beyond the darkness and you perceived something different "I know what it feels like to be completely alone"

You were confused, you didn't know what to say, there was no answer to his words, now you only felt a great emptiness in your chest. Lee Minho, the person you always hated and envied was in front of you showing you a part of him that you didn't know.

"I…"

"Don't say anything" he interrupted you "just… take care of yourself" and so, confused and scared he left you in the middle of the dance hall with an unknown feeling in your chest.

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The days passed faster than you expected, with all the change in Minho's attitude and the fact that he didn't treat you badly anymore, the day of the competition came too soon. They hadn't stopped practicing and even though you tried to hide it, the nerves were starting to show, but you tried to hide it.

"You've worked very hard" said the teacher when she gave you a little break "but tomorrow you must give your all, mind, soul and body" you rolled your eyes, she had repeated the same thing for the last three days and you were sure of what she would say next, without paying attention to the teacher you looked away at Minho who also looked a little tired of the same thing, but when your eyes met he smiled and moved his mouth saying exactly the same thing as the teacher "you must be one" You almost spat out the water and coughed to catch your breath, but the teacher noticed it anyway. You looked at the ground trying to contain the smile on your face, even though you knew that was a stupid thing to do “okay, let’s continue”

You got into your usual position, you were ready and when the music started playing you did what you did best. Minho’s warm hand on your waist was already familiar but you still held your breath.

“You’re nervous” he said before you moved to the side to follow his steps

“Nervous? Me?” Minho took your hand and you stood on one foot on your toes as he spun you around “in the morning?”

“no” You rolled your eyes as he let go and continued dancing until you were facing him.

“I'm not nervous” Minho took you by the waist and you let your weight fall back while you stretched your arms and he held your weight with his arms, when you stood up again you found his face very close to yours

“I know you” his words distracted you for a moment and you heard the teacher's voice in the distance, you continued with the dance and when you were in front of him again you couldn't help but stay silent

“You don't know anything about me” you answered when you passed in front of him. When you placed your hands on his shoulders Minho took you by the waist and lifted you up.

“Of course I do” Minho replied as he set you down and spun you around “I know you don’t have any friends” you remained serious despite his words, but the continued “I know you live alone and apart from others out of fear” your body tensed up, but you continued moving around the room anyway

You moved away from him to do your jump and you were happy that it went perfectly, you stood still, waiting for Minho to finish the choreography and when his hands hooked around your waist you couldn’t help but tense up.

This moment was always weird, it felt like something intimate because after that he had to lean down and pretend to kiss you, even though they had never done it, he always hid your body with his and you just stayed held by his arms looking at his face.

“I know that despite everything you still pursue your dreams” he said at the end and you held your breath as you watched him get closer and closer

“Perfect” said the teacher taking you both out of the bubble in which you had been trapped for a moment “that is exactly what I want you to do tomorrow”

Minho sat up with you and you finally moved away from him. The teacher was saying something, but you were only aware of your burning body where Minho’s hands had touched you. You hated that he had that effect on you lately, it was not something normal, but you did not want to admit it.

“Well, then get some rest,” the teacher said, “you need all your energy for tomorrow.”

You hurried to grab your things and leave the room before Minho, you couldn’t keep looking at him without questioning things you didn’t want to admit and all of that was so absurd when you remembered how you had treated each other at the beginning, whatever you were starting to feel had to be a product of the pressure of the competition, you just had to wait until the next day for this to disappear.

You were about to leave the place when you stopped at the entrance when you noticed it was raining, you rolled your eyes and cursed silently as you mentally prepared yourself for the race you would make to your house, but when you were about to run someone took your hand. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but you did anyway.

“What's wrong?”

“You're going to get wet,” Minho said seriously, still holding your hand.

“It's just a little water,” you said, trying to escape the feeling that formed in your stomach.

“You could get sick.”

“What do you want?” you asked, a little irritated and upset. “I need to get home.”

“I can take you home,” you bit your lips as you thought about his proposal. You saw the rain falling and thought about it again. Your house was far away, so you just sighed.

“Okay,” Minho seemed to smile, and before he could say anything else, he took your hand and ran to where his car was. He opened the door for you, and you got in without thinking twice. Minho got in right away, and you noticed some drops falling down his hair and some others sliding down his face.

There was something mesmerizing about watching him, and you bit your lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. You looked away, realizing that some drops had stuck to you, too. Minho's gaze rested on you for a second and you noticed how his eyes seemed to follow the trail of some drop that spilled from your forehead and passed over your lips where it was lost on your neck and under your neckline.

You shifted in your seat and when his eyes returned to yours you felt a shiver run down your spine, you couldn't understand it but you knew that he was hiding something beyond his gaze, something that you couldn't understand but that made you shudder and want to know what was beyond.

You didn't realize your labored breathing until Minho approached you putting his arm over your head and you held your breath when you felt his breath near your lips, his eyes were on yours and you could swear that time stopped, but when you saw his hand return with the seat belt something in you felt disappointed and you cursed for thinking that he would try something else, but you hated yourself a little more for thinking about something like that and not disliking the idea.

“Safety first” he said jokingly, but you just nodded, staring straight ahead as he started the car.

The ride was silent and you felt the weight of tension with every second that passed without talking, no matter how much you looked outside and tried to focus on something else your eyes always strayed to his hands holding the wheel. You needed to get out of there before your mind drifted to places you didn't want.

The rain seemed to get worse with every minute and by the time you got to your house it seemed dangerous so you invited him in thinking he would leave but now you were in the living room, silent and with nothing to talk about. You hoped everything would calm down but your insides didn't seem to want to. You were hyper aware of Minho's presence and you could even swear you could hear his heartbeat, or maybe it was yours, you didn't know anymore but you wanted all this to end even if it meant getting away from Minho again.

You got up to make tea and forget your thoughts. There were so many things you wanted to say, but you didn't know how to do it, you didn't know if the words would destroy the strange relationship you had built, a kind of friendship where you supported each other for a common good, although you knew that inside there was something more.

“Do you think this will stop?” his words brought you out of your thoughts and you looked up

“It has to stop” you said almost begging for it to stop, but the drops still fell heavily down the windows and didn't seem to want to go away for a long time

Silence reigned again in the small space and you took your hands determined to say something, but then Minho spoke again.

“I’ve been thinking about something” you turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow

“Wow… I didn’t know you could do that” you heard a laugh and you smiled at the sight

“I do it often, in case you were wondering”

“So… what are you thinking about?” you asked curious and nervous at the same time

“Me, you, us” you stopped what you were doing, trying to analyze if you were starting to go deaf

“Us?” you turned around again and noticed that Minho had stood up and was slowly approaching where you were

“I know I’ve been an idiot before” with each word he got closer and you tried to back away until you found yourself at the kitchen counter “maybe I still am, but now I know I’ve done things wrong” Minho was left only a few steps away from you “I’m sorry”

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” he said jokingly, but when he saw that you weren’t smiling, he repeated it without hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” you asked nervously, still stunned, not understanding his words.

“For everything, I’ve treated you badly and said things that weren’t right.” You gritted your teeth as you remembered the words that had been engraved in your mind. “The truth is, I… was jealous of you.”

“Jealousy?” Minho sighed heavily and lowered his head in shame. “What are you talking about?”

“I always saw you rehearse over and over again, I saw you give yourself completely to music without any effort, I… I can't do that and everyone kept reminding me of it, that's why every time I saw you I…” he lowered his head to catch his breath and hide the shame that all this caused him, but he got a little closer to where you were “I… wanted what you had” he raised his head again and you froze when you saw his eyes lit up by what looked like tears “I felt miserable and useless seeing all the effort you made and I could only get here with money, I know I'm not good at this and I still try, that's why I was jealous, that's why I turned everything into hate” you were frozen by his confession, the words had gotten stuck in your chest, there was nothing you could say and you just stayed trying to process everything

“I thought you… hated me” Minho let out a tired laugh

“I hated you, I hated your talent, but... hating you doesn’t serve me anymore… I can’t hate you anymore” he said ignoring you “but… all this…” he opened his mouth but it seemed like the words were stuck in his chest and he was struggling to get them out “this… absurd and useless feeling for you is killing me”

“What… are you talking about?” your voice shook with each word, your heart was agitated, you knew there was something floating in the air that you tried to ignore.

Minho sighed and looked at the ceiling, he reached his hand to your face, but stopped before doing so, as if doing so would hurt him.

“I… you…” he closed his eyes and lowered his hand, clenching his fingers into a fist “I can’t spend another second with you without my entire body wanting you, every time I see you I lose my breath, I can’t stop thinking about you, your eyes, your smile” his fingers lengthened a little and very gently caressed your cheek “everything about you drives me crazy and I can’t spend another second with this inside me”

All you could hear were the raindrops hitting the windows, the air didn't seem to be enough anymore and you could feel a pressure on your chest. You couldn't stop thinking about his words, a part of you wanted to scream at him, tell him he was lying, that it was a stupid joke, you wanted him to leave and never see him again, but there was something else, something inside you that was taking over you and you couldn't contain it.

“Minho” it was the first time you called him by his name, and he seemed to react to your voice like a scared dog “I… I don’t know what to say, this is all so confusing” you looked up at where he was “I thought you hated me, I… I hated you too, I hated the way you walked down the halls and the way you stood out everywhere… your stupid temper and the damn way you dance… you, you caught everyone with your dance and I can’t do that… but now that doesn’t matter… because I can’t hate you either, not anymore”

Everything went silent, the raindrops were a distant noise, but you could still hear your heartbeat in your chest. Minho walked to where you were and this time he didn’t stop, he took your face and looked into your eyes just like he always had, without fear and with curiosity, but now there was something else, something you had no doubts about, he looked at you with love.

“Give me one reason not to kiss you right now,” you held your breath and let go of the fear in your chest with every word he said. “Tell me to leave and that you don’t want to see me again. Ask me for anything and I will do it. Because you have my heart hanging in your hands now. It’s all yours and you can do whatever you want with it. Destroy it, mold it, design it, love it… my heart belongs to you now… and so do I.”

“Minho… please kiss me.”

It wasn’t a soft, slow kiss. It was a desperate, anxious one that reflected all of your confused and jumbled emotions inside. It was a hot kiss, full of everything you both had dragged along until now. You could feel your heart beating hard, but you ignored it and just focused on his kisses, on the way his hands seemed to tremble on your waist and the way his lips ran over every part of your mouth.

You lost yourself completely in him, you let yourself go and forgot about everything you ever questioned, there were no doubts anymore, there were no ties, there were no secrets, they were just two people who opened their hearts and now they were feeling it.

Minho's mouth was desperate, his hands slowly ran up your body, but you just wanted him to hurry up, to calm that fire inside you that had started to burn. You took his hands and placed them on your breasts without fear, you wanted him, you needed him and you didn't mind admitting it.

You moaned his name when his mouth slid down your jaw to your neck and your fingers tangled in his hair. Minho pressed his hands to your chest and you threw your head back moaning at the feeling of his hands on you. His mouth continued down to the neckline of your blouse and before he did anything he looked up with a silent question and you just nodded desperately. He put his hands underneath and got rid of your blouse, throwing it away along with your bra, freeing your breasts where his mouth settled, making you shudder.

Your hands moved down his body, touching every part of him, and you heard him let out a gasp when you touched him above his crotch. You slipped your hands under his shirt and took it off to admire his bare chest.

You stood still for a second, appreciating each other's half-naked bodies. Minho licked his lips before attacking your mouth again. His hands squeezed your ass before unbuttoning your pants, leaving a trail of kisses from your abdomen to your thighs.

Your breathing was agitated with the slightest touch of his mouth on your skin, his mouth leaving kisses on your thighs and you held your breath as you saw how his fingers hooked the edge of your panties and left you uncovered.

His hands caressed your thighs and slowly moved closer to your core where you moaned at the feel of his fingers on your wet pussy, his thumb searched for your clit and you saw him smile when you shuddered. He moved his finger slowly in circles and you could feel how you were getting wetter and wetter.

You didn't realize when your legs opened more, but when you felt Minho's mouth on you, you moaned his name holding his hair as he buried his tongue in you.

You turn your head back and let yourself be caught by the burning sensation running through your veins, his tongue on your clit makes your legs tremble, but when you feel his fingers near your entrance a shiver runs through your entire body. You look down for a moment to beg him, but before you can Minho slides a finger inside you and you moan his name.

“Minho… I…” you can’t finish the sentence, he slides another of his fingers in and curls them touching a sensitive part inside while his tongue moves over your clit. The fire inside you burned strong, you couldn’t hold it back any longer and you let it consume you completely.

Your legs were shaking and your breathing was labored when Minho stood up. He held you tightly by the waist and wore that triumphant smile on his face that you had previously hated, but now found attractive.

“Darling… you taste divine”

“Shut up” you claimed embarrassed

“Shut me up” you approached his lips and kissed him hard tasting yourself on his lips.

You pressed your body against his and felt his hardening on your belly, you stifled a moan in his mouth when Minho grabbed your legs and lifted your body.

“I'll take you right here if you don't tell me where the bed is.”

“Upstairs.” Minho didn't wait any longer and took you to your room where he left you on the bed while still kissing you as he took off his pants and boxers, leaving his cock free.

He placed himself on top of you and you stirred as you felt the tip of his cock caress your clit. Minho took his cock and placed it at your entrance, still looking at you, again with a question in his eyes.

“Min… I need you.”

Minho moved his hips slowly and you arched your back as you felt his cock stretch you and hit rock bottom. He placed his hands on either side of your head and kissed you, staying in that position for a moment, feeling your walls enveloping him.

From one moment to the next his hips moved back leaving only the tip of his cock inside and then he moved again making you moan over and over again with each thrust.

Your mouth kept saying his name, all you could feel was his body on yours and his kisses on your neck while you felt his breath on you. You had your legs around his waist and your hands around his back marking his skin with your nails with each push of his hips.

Your body was burning and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he continued like this, but suddenly Minho sat up and before you could say anything he took your legs and placed them on his shoulders bending you in half like a doll, but this new position made him go deeper and you moaned at the feeling.

“You should see yourself with my eyes darling… you’re magnificent”

“Minho… shut up and fuck me” you heard him let out a laugh before pushing hard and biting the inside of one of your thighs.

The new position made you feel everything more intensely and you could feel a knot in your belly that you couldn't hold back any longer, your legs trembled and Minho noticed.

“What's wrong darling?” He asked mockingly as he saw how you held the sheets and how your back was arching, you wanted to talk but the only thing that came out of you were moans of pleasure announcing your orgasm “a little more, I know you're a good girl”

His words only made you squeeze his cock tighter and that made him lose himself in his own ecstasy so he continued praising you.

“Are you going to cum around my cock?” you nodded desperately and Minho only leaned in closer to kiss you “do it… cum for me”

You obeyed him and let yourself be carried away by the pleasure that ran through your body at the same time that you felt Minho's release inside you and how it ran down your legs when he released you from his grip.

You could feel your unbridled heart beating at the same time as Minho's who was on top of you. At that moment they were one and the same and something inside you finally felt calm.

You closed your eyes and stayed that way for so long that you didn't realize you fell asleep until you opened your eyes again. Minho was next to you and his arms were around your body covered by some sheets.

"Sleep darling" you heard him say

"I don't think I can" you said snuggling into his chest hugging him back

"We have a competition to win, you better rest" he gave you a kiss on the forehead and that was enough to go back to sleep, taking away the feeling of emptiness you had before.

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Your nerves could get the better of you at any moment, you kept pacing back and forth and there was nothing that could calm you down, not even the teacher's encouraging words, not Minho's compliments, not even the voice in your head. You had never been so nervous and you knew the reason.

You had decided to invite your parents at the last minute thinking they wouldn't go, but when they said they would give you a chance everything inside you went off the rails. This could be a new beginning for your relationship if everything went well or maybe things could end up the same, anyway, it was too late to regret it.

Minho was serious, he was worried about your condition and he was afraid you would have an anxiety attack, so he was behind you all the time, but that only made you more nervous.

“Stop that” you said turning around and facing him

“I’m not doing anything”

“You’re following me” you said raising your voice, making the people around you look in your direction for a moment “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, you’re nervous”

“Of course I’m nervous” you bit your nails to keep from crying, but Minho took your hands and you looked up into his eyes.

“Just breathe a little” you took a breath and your chest seemed to calm down a little “that’s it… everything will be okay okay?” you nodded not very sure of his words “we’ll go in there and the world will go to shit, it’ll just be you and me… okay?”

“Yes” You approached to kiss him, but you saw the teacher in the distance and you moved away from Minho as far as you could without knowing why

“It's your turn” the nerves returned to your body, but you tried to smile when the teacher pushed them close to the curtain, where the other people waited and watched the couple's presentation on stage “you are the best, you know it” said the teacher when the lights went out and left the stage free “prove it”

You closed your eyes for a moment trying to leave everything behind, as you always did when you danced, until you felt a hand take yours to move forward. You opened your eyes to look at Minho, his gaze was no longer cold or calculating as before, now it was warm and loving, you were no longer alone.

You walked forward together to the stage and got into position, you felt the thousands of eyes on you, but there were only a few that mattered to you and were in front of you.

“Let’s do this” you heard him say before the music started and everything around you stopped mattering.

You gave yourself completely to the music, all your movements synchronized with Minho’s and for the first time you understood the teacher’s words. Together you danced and gave your body, mind and soul to the stage, you let yourself be carried away by the melody and you felt your body flow with ease, with every jump you made, every movement, every turn, everything was perfect.

You could only hear your heartbeat, the music had long since gone, and the looks of the people no longer mattered, you could only focus on bright eyes full of love and desire.

Minho took you by the waist and lifted you up before leaning over you to finish the choreography, but this time you didn’t stop him from coming closer, you didn’t move away and you took his face and kissed him at the same time that the lights went out and the applause resonated throughout the theater.

“I love you” you heard him say and that was all you heard.

You knew someone would see them if they just opened the door, but you didn't care. His mouth was fiercely devouring yours as you held onto the small table in the place where they had decided to hide. His kisses were leaving you breathless, but you continued to taste his lips.

You felt the fire run through your veins and you let out a small moan when his hands ran down your bare legs until they squeezed your thighs.

"Min…" you moaned in his ear as his mouth slid down your jaw to your neck.

"Give me a reason not to rip your clothes off right now" he said running his hands down your wet center and you shuddered at the feel. You looked into his eyes for a moment

"Do it"

Minho ripped off your clothes and touched you with his fingers, the adrenaline from the dance was still running through your body and it excited you to think that someone could come in and see them, but the excitement after finishing their performance was so much that they ran to the first dressing room they found to get naked.

You moaned when his fingers touched your center and found your clit, his mouth fiercely attacked your neck and you felt his teeth on your skin, but you didn't need that, you wanted to feel him inside you.

Desperate, you pushed him away a little and Minho looked at you surprised when you pushed him to the small sofa that was there while you moved forward and took off the rest of your clothes, at the same time he did the same.

You climbed onto his lap and took him by the shoulders moving your hips feeling his cock on your wet pussy. Minho threw his head back and grabbed your thighs.

“Shit, Darling…” you didn’t let him finish his sentence as you grabbed his cock and sank down on it making him moan “someone… might see us”

“Then you better do this quickly” you said agitatedly moving your hips up and down marking the rhythm.

Minho grabbed your thighs and squeezed your skin tightly as he felt you bounce on him over and over again, he couldn't stop himself from kissing your breasts and biting your nipples to hear your own moans.

You were so immersed in each other that you had forgotten about everything that was happening outside the doors until after a while you stopped moving out of exhaustion, but Minho grabbed your hips and moved his up to continue until you felt your insides heat up from Minho's release.

You collapsed on his chest and smiled as you heard his heartbeat as he caressed your hair. Everything was calm and quiet until you heard your names over the speakers in the place.

“Did we win?” you asked bewildered hearing the applause of the people “we should go”

“Maybe” he said when you looked up and tried to move, but he held you back “but everything I care about is here”

“You're a fucking romantic”

“And you love it”

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EPILOGUE

"Don't you dare open your eyes" you heard Minho say as he led you through who knows where, nerves running through your body and you didn't know what he had in store but you were sure it wouldn't top your anniversary gift.

"I'm scared" you confessed with a nervous laugh

"Do you trust me?"

"No" Minho let go of your hands and you searched for him until his hands took your waist and made you move forward a little more between laughs

"You lie"

"Maybe" you felt a warm kiss on your temple and his hands leaving your body

"Wait here" he said before you heard his steps walk away

"No… Minho" you stood still for a moment until the nerves took over you and made you restless "Minho, this is not funny" with labored breathing you took off the blindfold from your eyes but you couldn't see anything, it was dark "Minho… I swear I'm going to…"

Suddenly the lights turned on and you held your breath when your vision adjusted to the place. Your eyes filled with tears when you saw Minho coming towards you again.

"Happy wedding anniversary"

"But… what is this?" you asked as he handed you some keys

"It's what you asked for" he said hugging you "your own dance studio, here you can dance, show others your incredible talent, it's all yours"

You couldn't hold back your tears any longer and hugged him back burying your face in his neck.

"Don't cry darling, it will ruin your makeup" you laughed a little before wiping your tears and hitting him in the chest

"I hate you"

"I love you too" he said before kissing you in the same place where you met.

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

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ckret2 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:

The Eclipse: Part 6

Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:

Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.

Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.

They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."

Bill numbly climbed onto land.

Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.

He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?

But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—

Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"

Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.

"Bill?"

Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."

"Why? What happened?"

"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."

His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.

And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"

Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.

"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."

No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."

Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."

"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."

Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.

"You say your can't feel your legs."

"Yes."

"Or your left arm."

"Yes."

"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"

"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous.

Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."

A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.

"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"

"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."

"Let you sit and then do what?"

"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."

There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.

####

"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.

Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?

It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.

"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.

"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."

"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."

Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"

The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.

Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"

"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."

####

Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—

"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."

The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"

Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."

No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."

"Do you... want any specific food?"

"Not hungry."

There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."

Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—

Something soft landed on his head.

Bill opened his eyes.

There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.

Bill said, "What."

Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."

It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right.

Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."

Bill croaked, "What."

It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.

He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."

"How is it...?"

"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—"

"Psychosomatic?"

"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."

"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"

"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"

"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"

"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?

He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."

Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.

He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.

Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.

In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.

He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.

And it would have been for nothing.

Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.

He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.

His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.

Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.

####

There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"

"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."

Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"

"I know."

Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"

"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.

Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—

"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."

Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"

Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."

"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."

"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"

He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."

"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.

Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."

Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"

Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.

Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."

Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"

"Per game."

Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."

Ford considered it. "Three conditions."

"Mm?"

"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."

"Mm."

"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."

Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."

"Deal."

####

Bill lost every game.

Badly.

He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.

Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.

But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.

The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.

The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.

One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.

One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.

One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.

A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."

"Checkmate," Bill said.

Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"

"Checkmate."

"You can't mate me, I just mated you."

"I know. Checkmate."

Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."

"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."

Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...

When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.

Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."

"I'll take it."

####

After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?

It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.

While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.

"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."

Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.

Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.

During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.

But Bill simply said, "No."

Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.

Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?

When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"

"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casually shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.

"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"

"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"

Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"

But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."

Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.

(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)

It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.

####

Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.

"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."

Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.

Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.

"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."

Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"

"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.

"Then be my guest."

"I'm saving my strength."

It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."

Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.

They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."

"Go jump in a lake. Again."

How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."

Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."

When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.

"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.

Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.

####

(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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arvandus · 3 months

Text

Obey Me: OG + NB Theory - Something's Fishy About Barbatos...

Look, I'm just gonna scream into the void and see if the void screams back cuz I'm hyperfixating and need to sleep. Sorry if this has been done before btw; I know OG has been out for forever and I’m finally catching up to everyone else… but humor me. 😅

I'm calling it now, OG lesson 80 and NB are CONNECTED.

(read more for length and OG spoilers)

This black crevasse thing isn't over, and NB is a continuation of that.

What makes me say that?? Because it's hinted at during the morning after interactions with Barbatos in Lesson 80-12.

To recap what happened at the end of OG, a dark crevasse was accidentally opened and Mammon, Levi, and Asmo were sucked in. Solomon called on Barbatos to save them and bring them back, and then seal the crevasse. Later, it's pointed out that while Solomon was strong enough to close the crevasse, he didn't have the ability to save the brothers. He used Barbatos and his time powers to save them.

Which MEANS that they were technically dead once they were sucked in, and Barbatos reversed their deaths using his time ability when he pulled them out.

Afterwards, Barbatos started having horrible headaches, and the brothers started to cease to exist - Levi turned invisible, no one could remember Mammon's name, and Asmo no longer had a reflection. By the end of it, when the group has opened a new dark crevasse and are trying to throw the magical item (the treasure chest) into the abyss to fix it, all three brothers are invisible, Levi can no longer touch solid objects, and Barbatos is barely clinging to consciousness.

Of course, the magic from the chest is released, it's sucked into the dark crevasse, the crevasse is sealed, etc. etc. The brothers are back to normal, and Barbatos's headaches are no more. It seems as if all's well that ends well...

OR IS IT?

We get to stay the night at the castle, and the next morning, Barbatos wakes us up. This is already suspicious, since it's pretty much implied that we went to bed with one of the brothers (Mammon, Beel, or Belphie). So the fact that Barbatos is waking us up for breakfast instead of whatever brother we selected to go to bed with...?? Weird. Normally, I'd expect Mammon to nag us awake, Belphie to still be in bed with us, and Beel to probably bring food to us in bed. But nope, we get Barbatos.

Sus. Very sus.

And for good reason. As it turns out, Barbatos is acting... different. There's so many ways I can dive into how exactly based on the different interaction options, but that will add too much length to this post, so I might make a separate one later.

Either way, he's definitely not quite acting himself. So much so, that we get a chance to point it out to him as a dialogue option regardless of what romantic/nonromantic option we chose prior:

I'll type it here for those who need it:

MC: Is it just me, or is something different about you? Barbatos: About me? No, I don't think... Barbatos: ...Wait. Actually, perhaps you're right.

Then he just proceeds to be like, "Okay, come meet us for breakfast! Toodles!"

Like?!?!

BRUH, YOU CAN'T JUST RESPOND LIKE THAT AND NOT EXPAND UPON IT???

It's not even the fact that he doesn't expand on it - that part is actually very normal for him. He's never one to tell more information than he wants. But I DID find it interesting that he straight up agrees/admits it to MC that something is different about him. AKA, we as the readers are SUPPOSED to notice this. It's important to the plot.

So, to recap, we know the following:

The brothers were sucked into the crevasse and essentially died as soon as they entered it

Barbatos saved them using his time abilities

Barbatos had SERIOUS consequences to doing so - really bad headaches, nearly incapacitated by the end of the finale, so much so that it was taking everything he had just to stay conscious with MC after they caught him. (This is MAJOR because he's always been so OP and invincible up to this point. Whatever this black crevasse power is, it's strong enough to bring him to his knees. Terrifying.)

Something is "different" about him afterwards, which he even acknowledges but doesn't expand on.

Whatever happened with that black crevasse impacted Barbatos. It did something to him. I'm not saying I know what that is, even though I have my theories (I'll save that for another post too). But I'm pretty damn sure this is going to tie into Nightbringer in some way. Barbatos has become a much more major character for the NB storyline, and there's a reason for it.

OG is the "fuck around" and NB is the "find out." Right now, we're finding out (...hopefully... if the writers can get their shit together).

(Also, as a side note, the idea of Nightbringer coming from the Dark Crevasse just tickles a part of my brain that I can't really describe.)

#arvandus rambles #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanon #obey me meta #I think...?

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xvxnux · 2 years

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☆ why you need to believe that 2023 is your best year + the arcane of your 2023 ☆

★ pic one ,

you are going through a very important rational shift in 2023, i want you to know that people will no longer be able to step on you and do whatever they want... that's over. i see you imposing yourself more, selecting your battles more and with a very great rational power. your rationality will lead you to meet your greatest desires, your path is open and you will venture out. your posture will change and you will be molded into your best version, your self from 1 month ago may cease to exist soon and that will be perfect for you. don't think you're going to get lost, but you need adjustments to be able to live the best that life has to offer without people thinking they have the right to opine in your life and hurt you. it is a year that you will fight for yourself, you will not lower your head and many people and situations will bow down to your ideas and even to you. be proud of yourself! be wise and use that energy in your favor, shape it so that everything around you can be transformed and that you reach your goals. the arcane for your 2023 is the EMPEROR.

— random: if you get lost or don't know how to deal with a problem, eliminate it.

★ pic two ,

are you calling your soulmate? 2023 will be the year you meet the person in your life or a very important person in your life for a while. expect to know your soulmate more, expect to receive information or even be with your person. i see that you can suffer from the absence of something, do you feel that something is missing? you will feel complete. it's pretty clear that your love life won't be the same after 2023, I see a lot of things happening. your melancholy will go away, your heart will stop hurting. i even see marriage for some people, this print is very specific and may not resonate with everyone. your finances will be fine, you will clean up your life and leave only what matters. don't miss any opportunity, go after your dreams.... just turn the key. the arcane of your 2023 is the TEN OF CUPS!

– random: i see two people standing in your way this year, one of them is your future spouse. these people are the opposite of each other, good luck.

★ pic three ,

literally i have 48 cards on the table and i can easily sum up all 48 cards with just one sentence:"you need to believe that 2023 is your best year because your fucking suffering is over! its over, your tower will be demolished" when the rapunzel left the castle her life had a different meaning and twist, right? this is your best year, the year of your shine, your glowup... you'll experience great group moments like never before, your career will make sense, you will be in the best moment of your life. it's like every month you have a reason to smile, a miracle every month? know that this year is only about you, don't let them overshadow you. you will fall in love, you will travel, you will have very important discoveries, revealing news. good things happening so you don't lose faith and bad people showing up so you know how to identify nasty people in your path, remove them all! a lot of wisdom and spiritual protection, great for studies, for finances..... my god! your loving? i see discoveries too... wow! pay attention, trust me: IT'S THE FUCKING YEAR OF YOUR LIFE! and the arcane of your 2023 is THE WORLD and the 2 OF PENTACLES.

– random: don't row against the tide, you are being guided to your true path... don't fight it, receive it, you deserve it and the universe doesn't want to see you suffer.

#tarot community #pick a pile #pick a card #tarotblr #intuitive #tarot reading

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nathaslosthershit · 1 year

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Death Glares and Loving Stares||Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Pairing: Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Jealous Jamie

Summary: Two childhood friends, both too scared to admit their feelings.

Request(s):

“hi love could you write something for Jamie soon? idc I’m not picky :)”

“Could you write for Jamie using this prompt?

“Since when did you start liking me?”

“Remember we were four and you face planted outside your house while running to get the mail? Two people fell that day, literally and figuratively.”

Thanks!”

A/n: I really don’t love this fic so I apologize. I will definitely write something for Jamie again because I feel bad for releasing this.

Word Count: 1k

Being best friends with Jamie since before you both had even really developed a consciousness was a dream. You had never known a single day without the brunette by your side, even when one of you was sick, even when you two were fighting, even when his career took him far away from home, you were there.

Having 24/7 access to Jamie had led the two of you to knowing each other more than you knew yourselves, and with that came the realization that you have never known a more perfect man for you, and you doubted you ever will. But, as is the case with many best friends in love, the fear of losing him outweighed the need for him to know your feelings.

It didn’t feel good to watch as Jamie talked to, had feelings for, and dated other girls. Sure you had dated as well, you weren’t going to let your dating life cease to exist because of buried down feelings, but they never worked out because you couldn’t ever give 100% of yourself to them, not when Jamie already had so much of you.

That being said, the guy at the bar was cute. Boyfriend material? Definitely not. But he would be great to get your mind off of Jamie in the corner with another girl.

Or maybe not.

Maybe it was that you weren’t interesting enough for him because soon after your conversation started, he started getting seemingly distracted and eventually made up a lame excuse to leave you and start talking to a new girl. Even though you couldn’t have cared less about the guy, it still hurt a lot for him to walk off.

Little did you know, it was the brunette shooting him daggers from the corner that scared him off.

The girl in front of him was cute, don't get him wrong, but after five minutes, and an invitation to “get out of here and have some fun”, Jamie had lost interest and the girl had huffed off in annoyance.

Now alone, Jamie scanned the room for you. Earlier, he was hoping to just spend the night by your side but soon chickened out when he saw you scanning the room for any potential people to talk to.

Which was fine.

He could find someone to talk to.

In fact, it would probably be better if he found someone first so that you didn’t feel pressured to stay by his side, no matter how much he wanted you to.

You weren’t his, he had no claim to you, so he had absolutely no right to be upset when you found someone.

At least that's what he told himself while he shot daggers at the man you were talking to. It wasn’t his intended purpose to scare him off but he wasn’t necessarily upset about it. Until he saw you sitting at the bar, disappointed that you had been left alone once more.

“You think it's time to go?” Jamie asks from behind, surprising you.

“Yeah, it was stupid to come here.” You pout, making him feel worse.

As you head outside, you explain what went down, unaware of Jamie’s part in the whole mess. It wasn’t that you had really liked the guy. Most nights, you wouldn’t have spent as much time thinking about him, but with his sudden departure and already having felt rejection from Jamie as he talked to the girl, you felt so insecure.

Seeing how upset you were killed Jamie.

“I’m sorry” He exclaims, the guilt eating him alive.

“It's not your fault, the guy was an ass I guess, or maybe I'm just not that interesting.”

“No.. no please never think that. I- seeing you talking to him just made me mad, to the point where I may or may not have glared at him till he left you.”

Shock caused you to stop where you were. Jamie had scared him off?

“But why would you- weren’t you talking to that girl?”

“Oh please. I had been wanting to talk to you all night. When I offered to take you to the bar it wasn’t to go hunting for some one-night stand. I just thought that we could have had a nice night together. But this ended up being a shit show for the both of us. I couldn’t handle seeing you with him, even though you aren’t mine. Even though I have been too much of a wimp to tell you how I have felt about you for years. And I'm sorry for that.”

How are you supposed to even respond to that? You supposed there was nothing to even say, so you kissed him. And after a few seconds, he kissed you back.

In the middle of the sidewalk, in the dark, you finally kissed your best friend of many, many years. His hands circled your waist while yours went to his hair.

You both pulled away to take a breather.

“Since when did you start liking me?”

“Remember we were four and you face planted outside your house while running to get the mail? Two people fell that day, literally and figuratively.”

“You’re an idiot, Jamie. We could have solved many issues had you said something earlier.”

“I don’t know why all this blame is getting put on me. You easily could have said something as well, love.” Touché. You kiss him again.

#nhl imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale

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stromuprisahat · 8 months

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While I could feel for Alina, I can't bring myself to do the same for Zoya, and one of the reasons is her added (retconned) backstory.

We meet Alina around her 17th year of age. She's sickly, with whole encyclopaedia worth of mental issues from being brainwashed from her orphanage to self-gaslighting and some more. She never gets over most of them. The thing is, one can see why.

Not only the story takes place in barely a year, soon we learn there's such a thing as wasting sickness, severe deterioration of Grisha health, occurring when they're not using their powers. And Alina somehow managed to do it for longer than is usual. Suddenly, her stock of issues makes sense. Physical chronic diseases like to be accompanied by mental ones, untreated mental ones often snowball into more and WORSE. Alina's physical health was like on a swing during that short time of the trilogy, her brain probably gave up its healing efforts after the second whiplash...

It's frustrating, reading about a girl, who started off weakened and frail, to not just never get better, but eventually end up SO MUCH worse. It's not a story to make you cheer, but pity, especially since the terror of reality's not even acknowledged.

Then you have Zoya, at first an arrogant bitch with dead aunt. She's a year or two older than Alina, already out in the world, in contact with ordinary people, represented by her said relative. Her main story takes place some three years later, in a country that makes you grow up quickly. It's only logical to expect more mature character... logical...

Instead we get a girl- a girl, not a woman- who lives in her black-and -white bubble, rash and short-sighted, still seeking someone to take her under their (preferably ~his~) wing, too afraid she'll have to stand on her own two legs, idealizing victimhood and when reality proves too cruel, she chooses not to believe it.

While reader's expecting her to overcome consequences of her past, she's clutching her trauma like a teddy bear (and I don't mean that one death, but her mommy/daddy issues), because if she let it go, she'd have to face the real world, that's far from the simplicity of stories she likes to tell herself.

Unlike Alina, the only thing standing between her and development, is HERSELF.

Her unwillingness to quit clinging to status quo, because what is she, if not the lone ship in a sea she has no impact on? Although she goes through training that's supposed to make her face her past, the growth is nowhere to be seen. But then again those faults are just what her "mentor" needed in order to use her as a credulous meatsuit...

What makes it a drop more frustrating for the reader, is LB's favourite pastime- ignoring consequences of her MCs choices. The author's favour ensures Ravka doesn't fall, and Zoya's thick plot armour won't allow her existence to cease under the preassure of hundreds of years old mind of a stranger SHE let in.

#Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Alina Starkov #Zoya Nazyalensky #V #anti Zoya #anti Leigh Bardugo

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fangirlfrom-hell · 11 months

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The Fragile Bonds Part 4 || Jay and Will Halstead x Halstead Sister

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly erased my other blog 🫠 If you were following this story I'd appreciate your reblogs 🙏🏻

Summary: After their father's death, Becca moved in with Jay. This is the first time the detective brother has to go undercover since his sister has been under his full care, creating a challenging situation for both. Reluctantly, Becca will have to live with Will and his family during those days, even though she doesn't feel very welcome in that household.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

It was a cloudy afternoon, with no sign of the sun in sight. The rain had subsided, and if it weren't for the gentle drops trickling down the windowpane, it might have gone unnoticed.

Becca lay on her bed, engrossed in the book Mr. Olinsky had given her. The story revolved around a lonely orphan girl who discovers the existence of a giant and goes with him into his world. Becca enjoyed the book, but at that moment, she found it hard to concentrate on her reading. She placed it on her chest and turned her gaze toward the window. She remained still for a few minutes, imagining Hailey's car pulling up on the street. She hoped that this would happen, as the detective had promised to visit her that day. Nevertheless, Becca was accustomed to last-minute changes in plans, a common occurrence in a detective's line of work. She continued to gaze outside, lost in thought, until her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door from Will.

"Everything okay?" Will asked, but no words came out of his sister. She simply nodded.

"What are you reading?" Her brother approached and took a seat on the edge of the bed, prompting her to do the same. "The BFG?"

"The Big Friendly Giant," she replied. "Mr. Olinsky gave it to me, and he always asks me about it. I want to finish it for the next time I see him."

"Oh," Will was uncertain about how to react. It felt a bit strange to him that she was close to Jay's co-workers. For a moment, it tugged at his heart that she might be becoming closer to them than to him.

"Did you finish your homework?" Will inquired.

"Uh, no. It's Friday, and I don't feel like doing homework right now. I still have the whole weekend," Becca replied.

"Well," he said, taking the book from her hands, "I suggest you finish it today. We're planning to go to the aquarium tomorrow." He smiled from ear to ear.

"The aquarium?" Becca asked without much excitement.

"Yeah! We've been wanting to take Owen for a while now. Tomorrow's a great chance to do it, and you get to come with us," he said, excited and genuinely thinking Becca would be too.

"But tomorrow is my..."

"What?"

"Um, never mind..." She rolled her eyes, hoping that Jay would return at any moment. She was accustomed to Will always forgetting her birthday and other important events related to her, anyway.

"It will be fun!" Will tried to persuade her.

At this point, Becca couldn't even muster a fake smile. As soon as she was left alone in the room, she buried her face in a pillow, muffling her scream of frustration.

It felt as though time had ceased to exist that afternoon, a strange and surreal feeling. Becca spent most of the time in a state of half-sleep, drifting in and out, as if she were trying to fast-forward through the day. She didn't want to be awake.

By the time she finally woke up for good, it was already dark outside. She realized she had slept for a long time and suddenly remembered Hailey. Her heart raced with worry, fearing she might have missed a visit from the detective. "No, no, no," she muttered, reaching for her phone in the drawer. She discovered three missed calls and a text from Detective Upton.

Something surged, I'm sorry

The tone of the text conveyed the urgency. She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, just in case Hailey called again, she didn’t want to miss another call from Jay.

Leaving Mr. Snuggles behind, Becca ventured out of her dark room and was momentarily dazzled by the brightness of the rest of the house. The cold hit her immediately, and she shivered, regretting her choice of wearing only a light sweater over a tank top.

There were a lot of noises. The animated voices of cartoons emanated from the TV, Owen's plaintive cries echoed through the air, and Natalie's soothing reassurances cut through the clamor. Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, the clinking of plates, the splashing of water, and the rhythmic hiss of flames on the stove created a symphony of domestic activity. It smelled good.

Upon entering the kitchen, Becca found her brother, Will, busy at the stove.

"Pasta!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers and pointing to his little sister. "You can eat that, right? You can't be allergic to pasta!"

A smile graced Becca's lips as she responded, "Yeah, I can eat pasta. That's actually what Jay makes whenever he's too lazy to cook... which is often." Their shared laughter infused the room with a comforting sense of camaraderie.

"Well, dinner's almost ready. I bet you're hungry."

"Yes, I actually am. And it smells delicious." Becca's gratitude was evident in her words, and Will's smile in return felt like a small victory, he finally made Becca feel good.

"What's wrong with Owen?"

"I don't know, he just doesn't want to sleep. We didn't take him to the park because of the rain, so it might be all of his pent-up energy."

"Oh." Just as they were discussing Owen's restlessness, the baby's cries subsided, and the volume of the cartoons from the TV surged. Becca turned to glance at the wall clock; it read 7:00 PM. It was still relatively early, and she realized she hadn't slept as long as she thought.

"It's freezing," Becca mentioned, crossing her arms to ward off the chill.

"Here," Will offered, taking off his own sweater. "I don't want you to get sick." It was evident that he wanted to ensure Becca remained in the room with him, not wanting to break the peaceful moment they were sharing.

"No, it's all good," Becca quickly responded. "I'll get one from my bag. I'll be right back."

The door of the room was open, but the girl didn’t pay much attention to that detail. However, when she got in, she immediately noticed something amiss. The bed was empty. "Mr. Snuggles?" she thought, her heart sinking. She approached the bed, thinking she might have hidden the stuffed animal beneath the pillow, but her search yielded no trace of the beloved cat.

"Oh, no!" Panic gripped her, and she began frantically throwing pillows and blankets onto the floor, desperately searching for the missing plush companion.

“WILL! WILL!”, she screamed anxiously.

The redhead was at the door frame in an instant, a mixture of alarm and concern etched across his face.

"Wha--? What happened?" His own fear was palpable as they observed Becca, her tearful countenance and the disheveled state of the bed sheets. Quickly, he closed the distance and moved to her side.

“Mr. Snuggles is not here, HE’S NOT ANYWHERE!”

Will was confused, he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“My stuffed animal!”

“Oh, the cat?” He finally realized. “Did you look well on the bed? Under?”

“WILL, I’M TELLING YOU–”

He could not understand why his sister was overeating that way, but he could feel her anxiety and exasperation.

He put a hand on her shoulder and continued with a soothing tone, "ok, ok, let's go. I'll help you find it".

Then, he proceeded to look under the bed, but there was no trace of the cat. "I don't know, Becca. Are you sure you leaved it in here? You didn't take it outside? Look, it's alright, tomorrow when we get out of the aquarium, we can go get a new one, I promise".

However, this offer only seemed to exacerbate Becca's distress. She started bawling, and Will could see the profound sadness in her eyes, even if he didn't fully comprehend the situation. All he could do was embrace her, but Becca remained unresponsive, not reciprocating the hug.

"It's okay, Becca. You'll get a new one, and it will be even better. That cat was already old." Will tried to console her, although he was still perplexed by the depth of her attachment to the lost stuffed cat.

Becca's tears flowed uncontrollably as her mind became a whirlwind of memories from that special birthday when she had received Mr. Snuggles. She could see her mother's warm and loving smile, and picture Jay's supportive presence as he helped her unwrap the gift box. Those recollections also brought back the bittersweet image of their father, sitting at the table, all of them sharing a birthday cake. But what weighed most heavily on Becca's mind was the recollection of her mother's gentle voice and the overwhelming fear that gripped her – the fear that she might forget her mother's comforting scent and her cherished appearance if she were to lose Mr. Snuggles. It was this fear, this painful possibility, that had driven her to such intense distress.

In her frustration, Becca pushed her brother away, her actions betraying the depth of her anguish. "You don't get it," she groaned. The rawness of her emotions was palpable, and it left a profound ache in Will's chest as he struggled to comprehend the intensity of her distress and find a way to comfort her.

In that moment, the sound of laughter echoed from the living room, and it was at that moment Becca pieced together what had likely transpired. With a sense of urgency, she darted out of the room, her brother following closely behind. There, in the living room, she found Mr. Snuggles in the firm grasp of Owen, who was gleefully swinging the stuffed cat from side to side, dancing to the music of his cartoons.

"Mr. Snuggles," Becca whispered in relief.

Natalie, seated on the sofa, turned to look at Becca, initially unaware of the distress that had gripped the girl.

"Oh," she remarked to Becca. "It was the only thing that could calm him down. I was walking him around the house, and he wandered into the guest room to find it. I told him we would borrow it from you."

Will's voice came from behind, breaking the tension. "Good that we found him," he sighed in relief. "You still have my word about the new stuffed animal, though." He reached out and hugged his sister by the shoulder, still puzzled by her intense reaction and concerned by the fact that she was still upset. He wished he could understand and help her better, but for now, all he could do was be there for her.

"Will, I--thank you," Becca whispered in a hushed tone, ensuring her words were only for her brother's ears. "But I don't need or want another one. I need Mr. Snuggles, and I can't let Owen have it, I really can't."

Will glanced at Owen playing with the black cat. He didn't initially see the issue, but the intensity of Becca's emotions was impossible to ignore. He furrowed his brow and returned his gaze to her, realizing that she was genuinely suffering. It was clear that the stuffed animal held immense significance for her.

"Okay, alright," he said gently, attempting to wipe away her tears.

"Owen, come here," Will knelt to be at the boy's level. "Buddy, this little cat here is already tired. It's time for him to go back to sleep." As he tried to take Mr. Snuggles from Owen's small hands, the boy became upset and clung tighter to the toy.

“Will, what are you doing?” Natalie intervened.

“Becca wants, needs her plush back, that’s all”.

“He’s been restless for two hours, this thing is the only thing that has calmed him”.

“Yes, I know, but it’s not his, and we should have asked Becca first if we wanted to take it”.

Becca felt a warmth in her heart as she watched her brother stand up for her in front of his girlfriend, something that had never happened before.

"Owen, pal, please," Will implored. He managed to gently take the stuffed animal from the boy's hands, but Owen's reaction was immediate – he started crying and throwing a tantrum.

Becca couldn't help but feel awful. She didn't want the baby to cry, and a wave of guilt washed over her for not letting him have Mr. Snuggles. But she just couldn't, if it were any other toy, she wouldn't have hesitated to lend it to him.

"Will!" Natalie scolded, and the cat went back into Owen's hands.

Will found himself in a difficult position, torn between wanting to please Becca and not fully comprehending the depth of her attachment to the toy.

"Becc, just lend it to him for a while. He'll get tired of it soon, you'll see."

Becca watched as Owen continued to play with Mr. Snuggles, her heart heavy with mixed emotions. She shuddered when she saw him putting one of the toy's ears into his mouth. The thought of her mother's scent slowly fading away from the cherished stuffed animal weighed heavily on her mind, making it even more difficult to let go.

“No, I can’t”

Will tried to stop her, but he didn't have the heart to do it.

"Owen, baby, I'm sorry, you need to give it back to me, please," Becca pleaded with a soft, gentle tone. However, Natalie intervened defensively.

"Becca, stop acting like this. It's just a toy, and he's just a kid."

Seizing the opportunity when Owen momentarily left the cat on the floor, Becca reached for it with a sense of relief. But at the same time, Natalie grasped it by the tail, and in the struggle to pull it towards herself, the stuffed animal tore in two.

Becca clutched the body of Mr. Snuggles in her arms, her eyes filled with horror as she stared at the torn tail on the floor. Her beloved companion had been torn apart, and she was left in shock, aghast at the sudden, painful loss.

"NO!" Becca's anguished scream pierced the air, sending shivers down Will's spine. Her cries escalated into a torrent of tears, her emotions a chaotic whirlwind of anger, sorrow, and anxiety. She felt trapped and overwhelmed, and all she wished for was to escape that painful moment.

"I wish I was dead too!" Becca's words, spoken with laboring breaths, were a heartbreaking cry for release. She bolted towards the front door in a desperate attempt to escape, but Will managed to reach her in time, pulling her into a hug from behind, trying to be gentle and cautious, afraid of hurting her in the process. His embrace was a lifeline, an attempt to anchor her and provide the support she desperately needed in that agonizing moment.

"Let me go! Leave me alone!" Becca's cries reverberated, her voice laced with anguish and despair. No one had ever witnessed her in such a state; she appeared as if she were possessed, kicking and hitting, doing everything in her power to break free from her brother's embrace, as if she were fighting against her own tormenting emotions.

"I can't. I can't let you go like this. I need you to calm down, sweetie. Calm down, Beccs, everything's okay," Will implored, his words filled with love and concern.

But those last words pierced her like a dagger to the heart. Nothing was okay; everything felt wrong. Her world was fractured. She no longer had her dad, her mom, or Jay. The only thing that still connected her to her mother had been damaged. She didn't have a home, and she couldn't find her place in this world. In her anguish, Becca acted without thinking, biting Will's arm to break free from his embrace, her pain manifesting in a desperate attempt to escape her overwhelming emotions.

“Will, she bit you. Do something!” Natalie’s accusations rumbled in her ears.

“No, no. It’s ok, Beccs. It’s alright”, Will tried to calm his sister, whose little face looked frightened.

Everything happened so fast and Becca managed to break free and escape through the front door. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her vision blurred by tears, making it impossible to see clearly where she was headed.

Unheeding of Natalie's protests, Will chased after her, desperate to catch up.

"Becca! Becca, please!" His voice reached her ears, calling her name at a distance, but it grew fainter and fainter as she continued to run. "Becca!" She heard one last anguished cry, a long and agonized scream that filled the air with sorrow.

When she finally came to a halt, she was exhausted, her breathing labored. She looked around, but the surroundings were unfamiliar, and she couldn't identify the street or any nearby landmarks. She was lost, but returning the way she came wasn't an option, so she continued to walk, trying to find her bearings and make sense of her tumultuous emotions.

It was dark and cold, and she wasn't properly dressed, lacking a warm sweater. Her nose turned red, and her face and ears stung from the biting chill, but she didn't stop walking. She suddenly remembered she had her phone in her pocket and, without breaking her stride, she pulled it out. She dialed the number, but the call didn't connect; the number she called was turned off. Nonetheless, she decided to leave a message on the voicemail.

"J-Jay..."

Will was overwhelmed by fear, his mind racing with countless scenarios. He rushed back inside his home to retrieve his car keys, wasting no time, and then immediately returned to search for Becca. Determined to find his sister and make sure she was safe, he set out with a sense of urgency.

Meanwhile, Becca continued walking along a dimly lit street, too afraid to stop and ask for help. At this point, even if she wanted to, she couldn't return to Will's house, as she was unsure how to find her way back. Eventually, she came upon a bench in a park that seemed relatively safe, with a few children and their mothers nearby.

With trembling hands, she retrieved her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and called Hailey's number multiple times, but there was no answer. Frustrated and desperate, she decided to send a text:

Hailey, I need you. Please, call me

Becca quickly noticed a man approaching her, which instinctively made her stand up and call Hailey one last time.

"Hey, girl!" The man continued walking toward her at an accelerated pace. "Are you alone?"

Once more, there was no answer on the other side of the line. This time, however, Becca decided to speak to the voicemail. Her voice trembled and cracked as she cried out of fear, "Hailey! Hailey! I really need your help..."

The stranger was now just a few steps away from her and made a gesture as if he was trying to take her arm. In a panic, Becca screamed at him while still on the call, "No, get off!" She then began to run once again, desperate to escape the approaching stranger.

After several minutes of wandering around, shivering from the cold and filled with fear, unable to stop crying, Becca found herself standing beneath a well-lit area outside a small store where a steady flow of people passed by. She retrieved her phone once more, but her heart sank when she realized the battery was dead. Cursing her misfortune, she felt a touch on her shoulder and startled in fear.

"It's okay, honey," a woman's voice reassured her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay? Are you lost? Do you need help?"

However, Becca was now too paranoid and frightened to trust a stranger. She took a few steps back, her guard up.

"Okay, okay, don't go. Don't worry," the woman said, trying to be reassuring. "I'll call the police, and they'll help you get back home, okay? I'll stay here with you."

But as soon as the woman briefly took her eyes off the young girl, Becca seized the opportunity to slip away and disappear into the night.

"Did you find her?" Natalie inquired, even though it was only Will who returned to the car. He was overwhelmed, his stress and anxiety apparent as he sat on the entrance stairs, his elbows on his knees and his hands on his face. His girlfriend knelt beside him and rubbed his back in a soothing manner. "She'll be back soon."

"Are you sure? She's a 12-year-old girl wandering the streets alone at night. She's never been out alone!"

"She must be hiding somewhere, like in a game. She just wants to get your attention. Give her time."

Will couldn't bear the waiting any longer. "She's anxious, stressed, and sad. She was crying her eyes out. She must be frightened and cold right now. And it's all my fault," his voice quivered as he spoke. Will ran his hands over his face in frustration. "We should call the police," he suggested.

"What? No!"

"It's been three hours now!"

"If you call the police, Jay will find out about this!"

Determined, Will stood up. "He'll find out anyway."

Natalie continued to resist, "...and we'll have the entire Intelligence unit here. Is that what you want?"

"Actually, yes, Natalie. I want every cop in Chicago looking for my little sister, if that's possible!"

The 21st district was empty, the only sound filling the station was the echo of footsteps ascending the stairs. Jay was the first to enter the bullpen, followed by the rest of the Intelligence detectives and officers, all dressed in their tactical gear. He was the sole individual in plain clothes, and he looked thoroughly exhausted.

"Good job!" Voight patted Halstead on the back. "All of you. Now, go rest. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow. These punks aren't going anywhere." Before retreating to his office, the sergeant turned back to address Jay again. "Take a day off, you've earned it."

"Thanks, Sarge," Jay acknowledged.

"Alright, it's 10:40. Still time to head to Molly's to celebrate," Adam announced to the room. "First round's on me. Who's coming?"

They all accepted the invitation, including Hank from his desk.

"Jay, you coming?" Kevin inquired when he noticed Jay hesitating.

"No, I'll pass, guys. I'll just shower and go straight to pick up Becca. She must be losing her mind after a week with Will," he quipped with a smile. "If I hurry, I can still be the first one to wish her a happy birthday."

#jay halstead #will halstead #jay halstead x halstead sister #will halstead x halstead sister #one chicago #chicago med #chicago fire #will halstead fanfic #jay halstead fanfic

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random-autie-fangirl · 4 months

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👻 A headcanon about what scares Chara

(here comes another one)

A lot of normal fears don't scare Chara. Death, physical pain, gore, horror…they actively wish for death, they have such a high tolerance for pain that it's kinda funny(I genuinely believe that Chara once cut their hand clean through while chopping vegetables, didn't notice, and just kept cutting while their family looked on in horror), and can stay completely stone faced during horror movies while Asriel cries into their shoulder (Asriel does like horror movies, but is also terrified of them, Noelle behaviour). And we absolutely know of their lackadaisical attitude towards violence, don't we? ("Chara laughed it off, If you're cuter monsters won't hit you as hard, you just remembered something funny, you tell a joke about a child who slept in the soil, if you laid here you might never get up)

But what are they scared of… rejection, embarrasment, criticism, failure… they're scared of humans of course, this horrible ever present threat who could destroy their kingdom at any moment, and of anything happening to Asriel, they tend to assume that all the general public is out to get them and Asriel, to steal their wealth and status (I mean, who wouldn't be jealous of the dreemurr siblings, huh? Chara and Asriel are the most perfect people in existence and they do everything right, who wouldn't want what they have)

…and the other side of believing you can do anything (because they're the angel and the future of humans and monsters), is…if anything in the kingdom goes wrong, it will be Chara's fault, because they always could have stopped it (they are mentally ill), also for the longest time, they could not believe in Toriel and Asgore's kindness far after they learned to hesitantly trust Asriel… (And yet they stay anyway, they're prepared for anything, and isn't Chara also…lying? in the end)

And they're scared of anyone figuring out they don't care, that they can't trust, that they don't feel the "proper emotions" for people, that they're not kind to others for other people's sakes but so that people will like them, see them as a good person and as a hero… They're hiding everything they feel they are and are terrified of people finding out the truth.

Quite ironically, they're also genuinely scared of well, living...at the end of the pacifist route where they can suddenly see their future stretching before them with no end soon in sight, that terrifies them more than anything. They were supposed to give up their life in a heroic sacrifice, they weren't supposed to live that long, they weren't supposed to live past the happy ending, and they don't want to...why are they still here now that the war is over, now that there's no longer any part for them to play? Angels don't...live full lives on earth, do they?

(On the surface, this was more of a fact than a wish, they would sacrifice themselves for the good of humanity (how ironic that would end up being?), they would never live to be an adult, and then their pain would be over, it would be worth it, because they would finally have done something good and they'd be remembered well)

(There's also a meta reason for this, of course, all the characters in a video game get to live their lives once a happy ending is achieved...but the narrator, the hint system, the numbers on screen, they don't get that do they?, they're not proper characters after all, after the game ends, the narrator just ceases to exist, simple, of course it would be natural for Chara to assume the same and feel distressed when that doesn't occur.)

#chara dreemurr #undertale #what a strange child...#hey look! I did a thing #narrachara evidence #for the meta thing #headcanons #ask game headcanons

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n3ptoonz · 11 months

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'May I?'

Pairing: Kenshi Takahashi/F!GangMember!Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut, angst, fluff, canon-typical violence, praise, Kenshi is a romantic, female reader, did I mention Kenshi is a romantic, half proofread

Word count: 2.4k+

"Where. Is. Takahashi? That's all you have to answer, sweetheart." a goon whispered into your ear with nothing but malicious intentions. You were already emotionally and physically scarred, what more could they want? And how the fuck did they know you knew Kenshi?

"I told you a hundred times, I don't know where he is. In case something like this happened, he didn't tell me shit." your voice was worn from fighting for your life these last couple of days. You were tired and in pain. Your wrists lost all feeling, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ditch and cease to exist.

Where Kenshi was had to be the least of your worries at the moment. Now, you wondered what the other goons did to the people in your clan. You wondered what happened to your parents after these freaks took you. You wondered just how long you've actually been here, as you're a little convinced you were knocked for a good 27 hours.

"Bullshit!" one man on your right stood up and kicked his chair towards a wall. Your head remained hanging low as you gave no reaction to it. All too used to these fucks trying to scare information out of you. The blindfold over your eyes was harshly removed, making you wince as the same guy grabbed your jaw and gave you the meanest mug you've ever seen.

"You knew he was conspiring against the boss. Do you think we give a damn about your little gang? These tattoos mean nothing! All of your lives are useless, you know. It's a shame all your people ran away too fast for us to round them all up. Truly admirable." he laughed, right in your face with his other friends.

"You think my people wanted to join some gang for protection? You all are cowards. Even if I knew his exact whereabouts, you'd get nothing out of me. Kill me if you must, I don't know what taking you so long." you spat out, gritting your teeth at the man with a hold on your face.

"Because you're bait, smart ass. Once he realizes you're not at your little hideout, we move-"

"Sir! There's a blind swordsman slicing his way through the front door!" a shorter man came running in with panic riddling his voice. A...blind swordsman? How the hell is that even possible?

The man released your face and turned to the door in confusion. "A what?"

"You heard me correctly, sir! He's killed twenty of our men already, we need to sto-"

Woah.

The room had very little light, the dimness making it difficult to see what was going on. All you could make out was the clamoring from the men getting stabbed and sliced up left and right. Just who is this guy?

Soon after you heard your name being called as the light in the room became brighter, making your eyes dilate in pain. You yelled out at the sudden brightness filling the room.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I had to make sure it was really you." the man who had just defeated all seven people in the room approached you, kneeling in front of you while your eyes adjusted. The first thing you noticed was the familiarity in his voice, but was ultimately confused when you laid your eyes on red cloth covering his eyes.

This...this couldn't be...

"...Kenshi?" you said, blinking to make sure. He's the blind swordsman?! But...that also means-

"You retrieved Sento...But you're blind?"

"It's really a long story, but I'll explain later. Right now I have to get you out of here." he said sternly, his voice slightly shaken being able to see how badly they hurt you through Sento. The defacing of your tattoos to the cigarette burn marks on the side of your face made him want to set this place ablaze.

"But I know you wanted to take down-"

"-Not my concern right now." he cut you off while undoing your hands and ankles, meticulous in making sure he didn't irritate your injuries.

You remained silent, way too spent to go back and forth with your lover. There were several moments you really thought he either wouldn't make it, or become too preoccupied with his goals to come back for you. The day you two accidentally met played in your mind over and over again to keep you sane, and now, finally, the madness was over. He really came back.

"I guess the bait worked." you mumbled, rolling your wrists and ankles slowly to get the feeling back. You rubbed your face in after shock and disbelief, just what were these last few days?

"Are you able to walk?" he asked, his tone soft and concerned. He gently took your hands in his, awaiting your answer. You could feel him trembling.

"Doubt it, they knocked me over a couple of times-" your words cut off, again, by the feeling of two strong arms lifting you from the old wooden chair that you're almost sure flattened your ass. You yelped in surprise, instinctively grabbing onto him as he carried you onto his back.

"They're on their way here so it's easier like thie. I'll try my best to avoid your injuries." he said, effortlessly running out with your weight atop his own. He, in fact, was not avoiding your injuries as they are practically everywhere, but you kept silent because it wasn't his fault. The world felt like it was spinning, making you close your eyes and let yourself rest for just a moment.

"It's going to be a while before we reach my place, please, rest up. Don't worry about me." Kenshi hoisted you up once more to maintain his grip, successfully leaving the building and heading off into the forest so he couldn't be tracked.

It's been a few weeks since. A few weeks of physical therapy, long baths, and most of all, peace. Kenshi has been in and out of the house tending to his duties elsewhere, still managing to check up on you everyday.

It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of not looking in the mirror and blame. Blaming who? Everybody. Every thing. Yourself. Kenshi. Hell, even your parents.

It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of picking at your bandages and sulking when catching a glimpse of your body littered with faded scars. The cigarette marks on your face looking like they grew faces and started pointing and laughing.

You have the training and willpower to fight. You should've just fought harder. You had the training- You know what? Fuck it. Fuck it all. Maybe you deserved it. Falling in love with a man who's a god damn Yakuza.

He didn't have a choice. And neither did you. So, give yourself a break, will ya?

Creeeak

The sound of the bathroom mirror being turned around filled your ears, making your jaw clench. Whenever Kenshi came home, you always quickly fixed the mirrors and wore a weak smile on your face to keep him from worrying. He had important duties that meant a lot to him, especially after joining a clan called the Shirai Ryu, which he held dearly.

Creee...akkk

You turned the mirror back around, staring yourself dead in the face. The dread in your eyes as you watched the burn marks twitch along with your mean mug. You slowly raised your hand to your face, poking at your scars, almost as if trying to make them disappear on command. You scoffed, placing your palms on the edge of the sink and looking down in shame. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to keep yourself composed.

Being deemed attractive was never really on your mind before, even when you and Kenshi met. But this, oh it took the biggest toll on your self esteem. Being told enough times that one of the intentions of the physical pain caused was so Kenshi wouldn't find you pretty anymore can fuck someone up. That was bullshit, and you knew it. However, it didn't stop you from thinking it a few times.

"Love?"

Your eyes snapped open to the sound of his voice, looking up and seeing his reflection in the mirror behind you. You reluctantly turned, greeted by a concerned Kenshi who just came home.

"You okay?" he spoke softly, walking towards you with caution. The expression on your face wasn't so clear to him yet, but he could sense your aura was imbalanced from a mile away.

The next words conjured up in your mind were now caught in your throat, unable to pass through smoothly. Any noise that was to come from you would probably make the waterworks start flowing.

Nothing else needed to be said. From your silence alone he just took you into his arms securely, showing no intention of letting go soon. He purposely caressed the side of your face with the most scars carefully, whispering sweet nothings and all forms of reassurance.

"I wouldn't worry about a blind man finding me attractive." he joked, rubbing your back. "Have you been suffering alone since we got here?"

You huffed a laugh through your nose at his comment, just slowly nodding against his chest.

"No more of that, please. I'm here whenever. I know I'm gone a lot, but you still need to tell me these things so I can help ease it as much as I can."

You hummed in response, feeling far more relaxed than you did five minutes ago. He backed up slightly, taking one of your hands and leading you out of the bathroom. He stopped in front of the body mirror next to the bed and made you face it, seeing you visibly about to protest.

"Ah, ah, this is me helping ease your worries."

Kenshi stripped himself of his uniform shirt, leaving his bare chest and pants. He stepped closer behind you and played with the bottom of your tank top in between his fingers.

"May I?" he muttered next to your ear.

You nodded and lifted your arms. Once it was off all you saw was what you've been avoiding these past few weeks. Although, to your surprise, your scars healed nicely. It wasn't as bad as you thought. All that there was left now was your bare chest and shorts (that were his).

Kenshi peppered your shoulders and neck with kisses where all the scars were. His strong hands gliding down your arms with tender, love, and care alone nearly made you dizzy. Your eyes closed shut and you exhaled in content, melting just under his affection.

"It appears to be working." he said playfully, now getting on his knees and turning you to face him. He continued his actions, giving you slow, attentive kisses on the scars that covered your torso.

"Perfection. You are perfection." he whispered.

Your longing desire only grew stronger by the second. Your hand brushing through his hair made him hum against you, smirking as he stood back up.

"I didn't forget," he said, cupping your cheeks and kissing them, giving extra on the side with the marks.

"Permission to make you mine tonight?" he added, and you knew exactly what he meant.

"I grant you full permission to make me yours, Kenshi Takahashi." you finally spoke in confidence, love and lust overtaking you all at once.

Once your back hit the soft, silk linens, Kenshi's entire demeanor took a big shift. His smooth, tattooed hands quickly worked their way down your body to strip off the rest of your clothes, soon following after. He groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your warm skin against his palms.

Your breaths came together in sync with every connection of his hips. Each thrust having some sort of intent behind it. He wanted to take it slow at the start, silently letting you know how much he loved and cared for this canvas that was no longer empty. A few paint strokes here and there, but he didn't care not one bit.

Every joke has some truth to it, and he was a little serious when he mentioned his blindness. He remembers what you look like pre-traumatic event, so it's all just replaying in his mind as he fills in the blanks with the feeling of each scar and light dent under his hands.

The sounds of your breathless moans filled his ears deliciously, since it's what he mainly has to rely on now, he definitely feels reassured that he knows what he's doing.

You captured his lips with yours, muffling the crescendo of your voice as he kept reaching the exact spot that makes you lose your mind. Your nails dug into his shoulders with pure pleasure washing over you, as if you just couldn't take it anymore. You needed more.

"Kenshi...faster...please-" you muttered against his lips, shuddering at the feeling of him purposely stopping while being all the way inside you.

"As you wish." he said, slowly rolling you both over so that he was on his back and you were on top. Your trembling figure and hands gripping the sheets were the perfect indication that you were close.

Kenshi pulled you towards him to lay on his chest, holding your hips up and immediately getting to work. What was just the slow, romantic, and sensual Kenshi has left the building. Now was the Kenshi you met just half a year ago. The aggressive-when-he-needed-to-be, passionate, and goal-driven Kenshi who almost bested you if his hand didn't slip. This Kenshi was more than determined to have you cum first and himself after.

And that you did.

With his now fast paced and calculated thrusts hitting your sweet spot, he gripped your hips even harder as he got close. While you were letting yourself go on top of him, moaning and groaning uncontrollably in his ear, it was surely bringing him to his climax. Right before he let go, he sat up in the bed with you wrapped in one of his arms. The control he had was just impeccable.

He finally came, lifting you up so it didn't get inside you, but instead on your back. You haven't heard him curse this much in a while, which brought a tired smile to your face.

You both calmed down together, embracing each other and feeling your hearts beating at the same rate. You could feel the indents your nails left behind on his shoulder and back, seeing some red marks.

"Ah, that's gonna leave a mark," you murmured.

Kenshi chuckled, slightly untangling the embrace and resting his forehead on yours as he shrugged it off.

"Now we match."

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #smut #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #mk smut #mk fluff #kenshi takahashi #mk kenshi #kenshi takashi x reader #kenshi x reader

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youling-the-ghost · 4 months

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I just got caught up on the bnha manga and boy do I have some thoughts about the future of the series. OBVIOUS SPOILER WARNING IS OBVIOUS

I don't know how to feel about the fact that bnha could be ending soon. On one hand, I'm glad that the final war arc is finally reaching its conclusion, but on the other hand, there are so many loose ends that I'm worried will never be tied up. I'm mostly worried about the future of class 1-A because every scenario that I thought of had something wrong with it:

Class 1-A continues studying at UA as if nothing had happened. This doesn't quite sit well with me because let's be real here, all of class 1-A were all more heroic than most of the Pro Heroes. Having them continue studying at UA would feel almost disingenuous to the entire final war arc. Despite this, I still feel like this is the best option for class 1-A. After everything that has happened, a sense of normalcy would probably be appreciated. Plus I'd love to see Shinsou as part of the hero course in their second year.

Class 1-A graduates from UA by default and all become Pro Heroes. I don't like this scenario for more personal reasons. The main reason why I love bnha so much is its academia aspects; I loved seeing the characters grow like actual students in a genuine school setting. Having the students graduate would be taking the main charm of the show away, at least in my opinion. Although I will say that it would be incredibly exciting to see the students that we've been following for the past 400 chapters become Pro Heroes, so I'm not entirely against this option either.

The hero society crumbles and heroes cease to exist, thereby disbanding UA and class 1-A. Honestly I'm only including this because it's a popular fan-theory, although I don't agree with it at all. It feels like a slap in the face to every student who faught in the war. It would genuinely be such a big disservice to have all of them who risked their lives fighting in the war, only for their dreams to be ripped from them. Another issue is that in my opinion, the heroes themselves isn't even the biggest flaw within the hero society. I feel like the biggest flaw with the whole system is how the general public views heroes. They see Pro Heroes as saints and pillars who can shoulder all of society's burdens and blames. Removing the job of Pro Heroes would just feel like putting a band-aid on an amputated limb, as the core issue of bnha's society shifting its blame onto others wouldn't be resolved. It would also just be scummy to title your series "My Hero Academia" only to remove the concept of heroes by the end of it. I'm not bashing Horikoshi's writing or even fans who support this theory, I just personally think that it's not a very plausible ending for bnha.

Again, I feel like option 1, where class 1-A continue to school as normal (followed by a time-skip when they become Pro Heroes) would be the best and most plausible option. However, I don't think it would be right for things to completely return to normal either.

I really hope that Horikoshi adds an arc after the current one that explores the aftermath of everything, including the public reaction to how hard the heroes faught against the villains and their unwavering spirit, which could also serve as a proper end to the overarching story of the broken hero society.

This is more of a tangent than anything else, but I CAN'T BELIEVE SHIGARAKI JUST DIED LIKE THAT??? I guess it makes me overly optimistic, but I genuinely thought at one point that Midoriya could save Tenko from All For One because it would be an incredibly fitting end for him. Tenko's main motivation behind becoming Shigaraki was the fact that not one person helped him when he was wandering the streets as a traumatised kid, and a common narrative that all of the League of Villains shared was how their fates could have been different had someone reached out a helping hand when they needed it most. Having Midoriya save Tenko from All For One would be such a satisfying ending, not only for the overarching story of the villains, but for those who wish that the villains could be redeemed. It would be such a perfect ending AND IT WAS TAKEN AWAY JUST LIKE THAT?? I don't buy it tbh maybe I'm just delusional but I have a feeling that the whole ordeal with Shigaraki isn't finished yet.

Lastly, IS MIDORIYA QUIRKLESS AGAIN?? Since Shigaraki had One For All when he died, that would mean that the quirk is also gone, right? So would that mean that he would no longer be able to become a hero? I could see this going one of two ways:

Shigaraki's not actually dead or One For All didn't disappear when he died, meaning that Midoriya can continue using it.

One For All really is gone and Midoriya is quirkless again, but he continues striving towards his goal of being a hero despite not having a quirk.

I think both options have potential and I wouldn't be opposed if either option becomes canon. Although, if Shigaraki gets revived for some bullshit reason, I might just riot. I know I literally just said that I'm not against Shigaraki not actually being dead, but that would require a plausible explanation for why he's dead but not actually dead. I think the most plausible explanation right now would be if somehow Shigaraki's quirk mutates and the "restore" part of it returns, which could "restore" his body again. But even that is a little...eh to me. Either way, I'm excited for what's in store.

You thought I was done, well SIKE! Let's talk about Midoriya's dad! Horikoshi has confirmed in 2018 that his identity will be revealed at some point, but it's nearing the end of the final war arc and still not one hint has dropped about Hisashi Midoriya. I feel like this could end up being another "Aoyama is the traitor" situation, where we think that Horikoshi has forgotten about this plot line, only for him to come back to it in full force that makes total sense in retrospect.

The most popular theory right now is that Hisashi Midoriya is actually All For One, and I actually kind of agree with it. I don't think that this is 100% going to be what Horikoshi goes with, but I think it's a pretty interesting idea that also has decent plausibility. Apart from the evidence that other fans have accumulated, there's also a lot of merit in the storytelling that could stem from this reveal:

It has already been established that the public is willing to turn their backs on heroes, no matter how much they sacrifice to ensure the safety of the civillians, if they believe that the hero is "immoral" in some way. The reveal that All For One is Midoriya's dad would be like the "Dabi is Touya" reveal except 10 times worse because this isn't just some villain, it's literally All For One. The public would not take it well, and that could be a great segue to directly addressing all of the issues about the hero society that Horikoshi has been building up.

This also completes the foil contrast between Midoriya and Shigaraki; two kids who were victims of the broken hero society, one born from a villain and one born from a hero, who become the opposite as they're taken under the wing of the greatest hero and the greatest villain. There's just something so poetic about that that I love.

Let's say that Tenko Shimura does get saved by Midoriya, imagine how he'd feel when he finds out that the person who saved him is directly related to the person who caused all of his pain and grief. It would probably break him, and this could lead to such an interesting arc of Tenko re-adjusting to a normal civilian life, dealing with the backlash that's bound to happen, and learning how to trust Midoriya again. It's such a compelling idea that I'm itching to write a fic about it.

But apart from that, there's also the fact that there aren't many other ways that would make the reveal interesting enough to justify it being such a long mystery. Think about it, there's probably a good reason that Horikoshi kept Midoriya's dad a secret for so long, and it would be lame as hell if he just turned out to be some guy. Having All For One be Midoriya's dad seems like one of the few ways for the reveal to be compelling. I could also see Midoriya being related to the Todorokis in some way, but then it would just feel like the "Dabi is Touya" reveal with extra steps.

And with that, I'm finally done with this ridiculously long post. Again, depsite my grievances, I'm super hyped to see what's to come with the series, and I'm genuinely so excited for chapter 424 to come out.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #the bnha fixation is back boys and it's wose than ever #oh no I'm reverting to my 2020 ways #off topic but if anyone else has severe erasermight brainrot feel free to DM me so we can be insane together #god I feel so normal about them

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alibasnur · 5 months

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Annie (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Anne Sallow x M!MC Rating: PG Content Warning: Mention of parents’ death, mention of attempted homicide Word Count: 2.9K Summary: It was the end of spring before the 5th year of Hogwarts started. Anne Sallow became close to a boy who delivered her potions every week. Jonah Wilkinson was an American muggle-born, adopted by a family who lived a few villages away. She took comfort in his presence, but things changed after the summer began and Sebastian came home. Author's Note: This is my first published HL fic. I love Anne and hate Solomon lol. English is my third language. Details about my MC Jonah here

The pain was excruciating. No matter how often they had appeared, Anne could never get used to it. She dropped to the floor, and the uncooked vegetables for her supper were scattered.

She sat there for a minute, holding the side of her abdomen for relief. She was left alone in the house, and the pain turned her cold with sweat, even with the warmth coming from the fireplace.

She didn't notice a knock coming from her door at that moment. But that person behind the door surely heard her cry and excused himself into the house.

"Miss Sallow..?” A concerned voice approached, it was boyish, youthful sounding.

“My goodness! What happened?" She heard his footsteps rushing to her side with a hint of panic in his voice, and then she could see his face when she looked up.

She almost mistook him for Ominis Gaunt, but with freckles on his face that softened his features, deep brown eyes with a seemingly functioning sight, and red-brown hair that stuck out of his hat.

She took the hand that he offered, as she had no luxury to be wary about this seemingly kind stranger.

His arms lifted her with ease, which was a bit of a surprise since he didn't look the age to have that strength. She limped to her usual seat in her cottage house.

Swiftly, the boy picked up the vegetables she dropped on the floor. Anne almost felt bad for letting him do so, and for being in a poor state at their first meeting.

The pain ceased and it dawned on her who he might be. She was expecting a potion delivery from Mrs. Wilkinson, the healer from another village.

"Thank you." Anne was still seated when he put the basket of vegetables on the table.

"Don't worry, miss Sallow." The boy smiled. He grabbed the satchel he left on the floor, and took out a few bottles of potions for her.

"Just Anne, please.”

"Alright, Anne.” He was a bit hesitant to call a customer so familiarly at first. But it sounded more natural for them, given their similarity.

“Are you the Wilkinson boy?”

“Yes, I’m Jonah, Jonah Wilkinson." Jonah smiled.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble finding our address.."

"No, it wasn't. And the journey was nicer than I had expected. From what I heard, I thought I might have to take another route. But it turned out it was alright.”

"I'm glad.. the loyalists have been a concern for people who visit the hamlet."

Anne felt relieved to know that she didn't unintentionally put Jonah in danger.

“Do sit down, I have heard about you. I heard that you came from America, I'd like to hear more about it." As soon as she felt at ease, her usual talkativeness came back.

“It’s true, my parents are muggles, I couldn't stay with them so the Wilkinsons took me in.”

He took a seat facing her and felt comfortable enough to tell his journey that he felt welcomed.

“It must be hard getting used to the Wizarding World.”

“It was, at first. But I can manage.”

The Wizarding World. If Mister Wilkinson had only met him on the street and told him about its existence, Jonah would think that he was unwell.

They met in an Asylum, when Jonah overheard the staff preparing for his euthanization, by the decision of Dr. Barebone, saying that children of magical ancestry like him shouldn't live long enough to pass their blood.

“Have you heard the name Barebone?”

“They are descended from Scourers, aren’t they? I’ve heard from Professor Binns in my History of Magic class.”

It was no wonder words had spread about them in Britain. They were considered a big problem to the American wizards.

“Yes. I met one of them, they are the reason why I can’t stay with the muggles.”

“They hated wizards, didn't they? Did.. did they do bad things to you?”

“Well, unfortunately. They said it was part of the treatment. I went to their Asylum, you see.. a mental hospital. I was seeing magical creatures and my family thought I was mentally ill.”

They put him through several treatments, not sure if they were even necessary. One day, they decided it was time to put him to sleep forever and send words back to his family that he died due to an accident.

Mister Wilkinson came to his rescue before it was too late, he went through an ordeal to be able to adopt him. He had been grateful for his current life, although his experience with the Barebones still gave him nightmares sometimes.

“I can’t imagine what you went through. And I’m sorry that you have to separate from your family, you must have missed them..”

Jonah didn’t deny her assumption, he did miss his family. Fortunately, Mister Wilkinson occasionally looked into their life when he visited America, just to let Jonah know that they were safe.

Mister Wilkison said that he would put himself and the rest of the wizarding world in danger had he stayed. The Ministry obliviated them for the sake of secrecy, and now they had no recollection of their son. Jonah had to accept that bitter reality.

“I do miss them sometimes. But if they are doing well, then I’m happy enough.”

“I’m glad that they are doing fine. I miss mine too sometimes, I lost my parents before I came to Hogwarts.”

Anne stared down, the look in her eyes was of nostalgia rather than grief. But to Jonah, losing one’s parents to death sounded more painful than his own experience. Now it explained why she lived with her uncle.

“Oh, I’m sorry..”

“It happened many years ago, I have come to accept it. But I still remember that they were both professors. If they were alive, I would be one of their students.”

He wished he could relate to talks about being in a Wizarding school. Years had gone by after his 11th birthday and his letter never came to their door.

Jonah's magical sign was too weak, and perhaps that was the reason. He felt bad about himself, as he had no potential to cast a single spell. He might as well go back to live among the muggles.

The Wilkinsons insisted that he stayed, that Jonah was as good as their own. It did put him at ease, and although their sentiments were true, they never admitted the fact that they needed him after all. He had been helpful with the farm, Mrs. Wilkinson’s potion-making, and taking care of Mr. Wilkinson’s aging mother.

Anne had been listening with interest. The skin around her eyes was reddened with months of illness and sleep deprivation, but even then Jonah could see the sense of adventure that she gave off.

She enjoyed living in the Highlands, but it could feel narrow sometimes. If she were to make it, she could see herself sailing across the ocean and to another continent, observing how the wizarding world ran in the new world.

But her uncle seemed to be convinced that almost nothing could be done about her curse, and it killed the remaining hope inside her.

Mrs. Wilkinson's potion was the last resort, and if nothing worked, they would stop trying.

Jonah realized that he had forgotten something when he looked at the uncooked vegetables on the table.

"Were you going to cook something?" His question indicated a bit of worry. He couldn’t help it when he knew an ill patient was still having to busy their hands with a tiresome task.

"Yes. I have spent my days at home since I got sick. Uncle Solomon isn't home yet and my brother is at school. Don't worry, that pain appears at random times. I can still do things normally."

It didn't soothe Jonah to know that her pain could appear any moment, and it could be more disastrous than it was when he just come.

"I can help you." Jonah offered. Perhaps he could stay for a while, at least until her uncle comes back or a meal is prepared for her to eat.

"Oh, no, no! I've troubled you enough! Besides, Uncle Solomon will be back soon, and it's getting dark..." Anne declined, although no one could tell which one would arrive first; her pain, her hunger, or her uncle.

Jonah was reminded that he was supposed to be back before supper. His family at home could start without him, and they would be fine. But he couldn't leave Anne alone, having to lift pots while holding a sharp pain and no one could guarantee her uncle would be there at that moment.

"Just a bit, miss Annie. Just until your uncle comes home." Jonah bargained.

He did not mean it to be rude or weird when that ‘Annie’ slipped out of his tongue. He only meant it to make her feel that he was a friend she could ask for help, that he was comfortable enough to stay, and that it wouldn't be an inconvenience.

Anne didn't seem to mind with that little name, Jonah could see it when she chuckled her resignation.

"Alright, then. Thank you, Jonah. Truly."

"A delivery for Miss Annie?"

Anne hadn't told him that the last time someone called her by that name was when her mother was still alive. But that name sounded natural coming from Jonah's lips, and she didn't find any offense from it, not even just one bit.

She certainly didn't mind being Annie to someone as kind and jovial as Jonah. He brought a new light into her life, and Anne often found herself looking forward to his visit.

At a certain time every Tuesday and Friday, her face would light up when she heard a knock and a playful voice pleasantly disturbing her, sending her loneliness at bay.

Sometimes her pain happened to come in his presence. Jonah could only hold her hand and surrender to the helplessness of that moment. Her pain became his, and the joyfulness in his face dimmed as he took in her cry to heart.

He wished he could do more, but had he asked, Anne would say that he did. By being with her, by making sure she wasn't alone, her pain became much more bearable.

Mrs. Wilkinson came to know how Jonah became fond of spending time with her at the Sallow's. She put some buns in his basket for his next delivery. They sat together in the front yard of her cottage house, and she would tell him stories about her day at Hogwarts.

He envied those who had known her before her illness, as they had seen her at the brightest days more than Jonah had.

Her laughter had a pleasant ring in his ear, her playful smiles and cheeky grins, and he would do anything to keep it that way, or much better as if she wasn’t ill.

"School holiday is coming." Her eyes observed the hamlet. "My brother will be home next week. She smiled, but Jonah could see a certain anticipation, as if something could happen and that she could sense it approaching.

"My situation made it tough for him too. He would argue with Uncle Solomon. He insisted on finding my cure, Uncle Solomon always tried to prevent him." He could see how she turned somber as if recalling a bad memory.

"Why would your uncle prevent him?" Jonah wondered.

"He's worried that Sebastian would make things worse..” Anne sighed.

"Well,” Jonah shrugged. "Maybe there is a cure out there." Jonah had never met Sebastian, yet he already agreed with him.

Anne broke her gloom with a chuckle.

"You are starting to sound like Sebastian!”

They both went silent for a while, Jonah's mind had been occupied with many possibilities.

She had been taking potions from Mrs. Wilkinson, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. The only difference was that she gained a new friend in Jonah, and they both enjoyed one another's company.

"It's getting dark," Anne mentioned. "Your mother would be worried." He suddenly remembered about the talk of the town, that the loyalists were building a new camp around his usual route.

"I should be going, then." Jonah stood up, grabbing his cloak and satchel.

"Do be careful, alright?" Anne looked up to him, still seated in her usual spot.

"I'll be back next week.” Jonah walked to the gate. "Take care, Annie.”

She waved as she watched him leave. They departed with a smile.

It wasn’t a goodbye after all. Because next week, they would laugh together again, Jonah would take her down a stroll, and they would enjoy Mrs. Wilkinson's pie while playing wizard's chess together.

The village got livelier again when the schoolchildren came home for the holiday, and Jonah expected the same atmosphere when he arrived at Feldcroft.

The cart stopped not so far from the wall, and Jonah began to see the boys and girls he had never seen before. Some of them helped on the farm, some of them jumped ropes and the others played on the Hopscotch waiting for their turn.

"Our sunflowers are starting to bloom, why don't you pick some? It’s a healing flower, i’m sure your Annie would appreciate them."

His mother's advice never crossed his mind before, he did remember how she smiled when wildflowers were blooming in her little garden.

And now Jonah stood in front of the door, with a bouquet of sunflowers in his right hand and his left one holding a bag of bottled potions.

He was going to knock on the door but hesitated the moment he heard shouts between Solomon and a boy. Anne mentioned her brother being home for the summer, it was easy to assume that he was the shouting boy that Jonah heard from inside the door.

Their argument heated and Jonah started to worry about Anne being in that situation. For the first time, Jonah didn't feel welcomed in this house. He almost got hit in the face when the Sallow boy stormed out of the house in a rage, paying no heed to Jonah's presence.

Jonah stood aside from the door when he heard Solomon's footsteps approaching with an aggressive quickness.

“That's right, out! Out with you! Before you ruin things like your father did!" Solomon berated.

Solomon still stood there to watch Sebastian walk further away from his sight, his eyes still fuming, he grunted with annoyance as he turned towards Jonah,

"I.." Jonah felt uncertain whether it was right to speak now. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sallow. I'm here to deliver this week's potion.” He continued, business was business after all, but he wouldn’t deny his wish to see Anne.

"Take the potions back with you! We’re no longer ordering Mrs. Wilkinson's potions!" He demanded.

"Alright, sir. But, may I ask why?"

"They are not working! You should know that already, considering how much time you spent with my niece!" Jonah could hear an accusation in his tone.

Solomon's statement brought an embarrassment to Jonah, he felt as if all the time he spent with her word was for the sake of it alone, rather than being helpful.

He cherished the moments he spent with her, and Anne enjoyed them too. However, Solomon saw it as wasteful, an inconvenience, and at times, inappropriate.

Jonah was a boy after all, and the fact that he was a Squib and unschooled at his current age made Solomon look down on him even more.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Solomon looked down at the sunflowers in Jonah's hand as if they were a frivolous thing that would make a mess in his house. Solomon wanted this to be done with, and for Jonah to go already.

"Yes, sir, I.." He held the flower hanging in his left hand, his stare full of hope. "Can I see Annie? Is she alright?"

Please, Jonah didn’t say it out loud but he meant it with pleading eyes, let me see my Annie, even just for a while.

"She is not in the position to receive a guest! I expect you to look into the situation! I appreciate your intention, but she wouldn't need those flowers!" Solomon shot him a scornful look that sent Jonah a few steps back in intimidation.

"Now, good day to you!" Solomon bid him farewell. For a glance, Jonah saw Anne's hopeful look from the door. She could only watch when her uncle treated Jonah so unpleasantly. It made her heart sink to see her uncle decide on her behalf.

Her pain came just a moment before Jonah's arrival and it led to today's argument between Solomon and Sebastian. As much as she wanted to defend Jonah, she couldn't bring herself on her feet without the pain sending her back down to her seat.

“Wait, sir!"

Solomon slammed the door shut in front of Jonah. It sent Anne a startle, she could feel her sight blur with tears from the shock.

Jonah stared at the sunflowers in his hand, his bag was still full of bottles, but he walked back feeling empty.

His journey home left an unpleasant aftertaste, and Jonah wasn't sure that he would find the guts to visit again.

He sat cross-legged on the cart, plucking the sunflower petals and letting them fall on the road. He would see Annie again. He would not. He would see Annie again...

He would not.

He held the memories of Feldcroft with his Annie in it, dear to his heart. But perhaps Solomon was right, it wouldn't help her.

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