#and EVERYONE young and old was walking around with their build a bears

[this-doesnt-endd]

It actually ruined my mall day which already wasnt given a fair chance cause it was a sunday so the mall is only open noon to 6 and at like 5:15 they were already trying to usher people out or not selling things and i didnt get to accomplish everything and this was supposed to be a MALL day which means the big mall and then the smaller one by the house

[zenxvii]

character: go kyung-jun x fem!reader

kdrama: night has come

!!: thoughts are in italics

🫶🏻: childhood friends, protective go kyung-jun, friends to lovers

-

-

y/n had just got out of her room walking around the halls. She wanted to get out of this hellhole as soon as se could, she couldn’t bear to see anymore of her classmates die.

Passing by rooms she knew where se exactly wanted to go. She had walked towards the cafe in the building not knowing all the trouble inside it.

- y/n pov

I had wandered through the halls and got closer to to the cafe. I heard lots of voices from there so I quickened my steps. There was lot of people standing there and in the middle there was Hyun-Ho fighting with Kyung-Jun.

“What the fuck is going on.” I whispered to myself noticing it didn’t catch anyones ears.

Kyung-Jun had roughly pushed Hyun-Ho and he slammed against the wall. “Alright! Isn’t this enough now!” I said strongly and went to push Kyung-Jun away from the other man.

“You stay here.” I told him and went to help Hyun-Ho up. “You okay?” I asked him as I helped him up. He nodded at me and gave me a smile.

I could feel Kyung-Juns burning a hole onto me head, but I didn’t mind it. “I don’t get it. Why do you guys have to fight at a time like this.” I breathed out and shook my head.

“y/n’s right.” Our class president agreed with me. “We should go now.” He continued and mentioned that we should go downstairs and meet everyone in there.

I watched them leave and Kyung-Jun slumped on a chair and kicked the table. I sighed and exited the cafe and went to a girls bathroom to look for a medkit.

Once I returned to the cafe I saw Jin-ha and Seung-Bin also sitting around the table. “You idiots.” I said and their gazes turned to me. I sat on a chair next to Kyung-Jun and gently pulled his chin between my fingers.

“Why do you start fights.” I asked him and started to clean his wounds. He didn’t answer but hissed each time the wound pained him. I just sighed and cleaned his wounds.

After cleaning his wounds I turned to Jin-Ha who was on next chair next to me. “Head this way.” I told him and he turned his head to me. I started to clean his wounds but then someone yanked my hand back.

“He can clean his own wounds.” Kyung-Jun told me but I didn’t listen and yanked my hand back. “Don’t get in my nerves now. I bet you guy started the fight but let me help out a little.” I said and turned my attention back to Jin-ha.

I don’t get why was Kyung-Jun like this. When we were young he wasn’t violent he was kind. I miss the old him who wouldn’t just throw fists around. But I do love this Kyung-Jun, he treats me well. I’ve tried to told him to stop fighting but he still hasn’t, maybe someday.

Kyung-Jun had stayed silent as I cleaned the duo’s wounds. “All done. Now stop doing unnecessary shit like this, you’ll just draw suspicious to your way.” I said and shook my head and the trio just stayed silent not matching my gaze.

“Let’s go then.” I told then and got up. Jin-Ha and Seung-Bin got up as well but Kyung-Jun just sat there. “You two go ahead.” He told them and they just obeyed and left. Leaving me and my cranky boyfriend in the cafe.

“What is-“ “Do you love me?” I started to ask but got cut off by Kyung-Juns question. Do I love him? Of course I do.

“Of course I do. You know it.” I told him snd walked up to him. “It didn’t seem so.” He said and made eye contact. “What do you mean “it didn’t seen so’” I quoted him “Why did you go at Hyun-Ho first when I’m your loved.” He said and that’s when I knew what was up.

“Are you jealous?” I teased him and he sighed. “Of course. That jock freak has liked you for a long time now.” He said face turning into anger. Huhhh?? Hyun-Ho likes me?? Well damn.

“We both know I only love you.” I said and sat down next to him taking his hand onto mine and squeezing it a bit. “I love you.” I told him again.

He gave me s faint smile before standing up and pulling me into a hug. “I’ll make sure we get both out of here. Together.” He reassured me. And I nodded to his chest.

-

Few nights later

-

We were at a swimming pool looking around. I felt like it was pointless but I didn’t give up, I believed Yoon-Seo she was one of my best friends.

I was all the way back almost other side of the room and I heard people talking bit then I thought I saw something in the water.

I crouched down and tried to look again, but I couldn’t see anything anymore. Weird. I tried to look around with my hand and putted it in the water moving it around a bit.

Nothing. I started to get up but then felt a strong tug and I was face first in the water. I gasped and water filled my lungs as I tried to swim back to the surface. I got back to the surface and started coughing and saw Kyung-Jun and everyone else running to the side I was on.

“y/n!” He screamed as he reached me and extended his hand. “I’m okay..” I said and tried to grab his hand but then something tugged me again and I was underwater unable to swim back up.

I heard a splash and felt arms wrap around but my vision was blurry. I gasped for air when I was back up and started coughing hard.

I was in Kyung-Juns arms and Jun-Ha pulled me up as Kyung-Jun tried to lift me. I got on the floor still coughing and people gathered around me. Kyung-Jun basically jumped out of water and came to me.

“What happened?!”

“Are you alright!”

I was getting bombed with questions. “I..” I tried to speak but nothing came out. “Shut up!” Kyung-Jun shouted at everyone l. “Leave her be. She needs to rest!” He said and picked me up in a bridal style and started walk away.

“Message the plan then. Now I’m taking care of my woman.” He said and walked away leaving everyone behind.

He took me to a room and wrapped a towel around me. “I thought I was gonna die.” I told him and felt tears starting to form. “But you’re not. I don’t know what happened but from bow on I’ll protect you always.” He said and wrapped his arms around me.

—

End🙏🏻

What did tug y/n😨 Could it be the ghost..🥶

[augiewrites]

“scott street” - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n is back in chicago for the first time in years and reunites with an old flame (inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, grief, family/parental death, the usual warnings that come along with the bear

a/n: i love emotionally unintelligent men

Y/N was never good at making decisions. Big, life changing decisions? No big deal. Abandon everything they know to move across the country for college? Didn’t even think twice. Their last living family member was not-so alive anymore and left a massive mess behind with no one to clean it up? The U-Haul was packed before the week was over.

The cooler of soft drinks in front of them right now? Y/N had been staring at the frosted doors for well over five minutes, periodically opening the doors but taking nothing out.

“Y/N?”

Holy shit, he grew up.

“Carmy?” Y/N smiled at the young man, pulling him into a brief embrace, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could, uh, ask you the same,” Carmy smirked.

“I’m taking care of Ma’s old building.”

Carmy’s brows knitted together, “Right—I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Shame.”

“Yeah,” Y/N shuffled their feet, “you avoiding the question?”

“Maybe,” he smirked, “I took over the Beef. Been back in town for a few weeks.”

“Oh? How’s that going for you?”

Another smirk. “It’s not, really.”

“Wow, look at us,” Y/N knocked his shoulder with theirs, “both said we’d never come back and here we are…dealing with a couple steaming piles of shit.”

He let out a breath that slightly resembled a laugh, “Yeah—listen, you should come by for family tomorrow afternoon. Take a look at the pile for yourself.”

“Oh, Carmy, I don’t know—”

“I’ll make sure he stays in line.”

“We both know that’s not possible, Bear.”

“Still, everyone would love seeing you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Carmy opened the cooler and wordlessly pressed a Diet Coke in their hand before walking out of the store.

It took everything in them to not cry.

_________________________________________

Y/N knew it was a bad idea, but the next day they found themselves standing outside the Beef, willing themselves to go in.

They scoffed and opened the door.

Pussy, they chastised themself.

The restaurant was pure chaos, and Y/N stood there for a moment, completely unnoticed and taking it all in. They would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t miss the mayhem.

Unsurprisingly, Richie was the first to notice them—he had a habit of doing that.

“Yo, what the hell?”

Y/N was barely able to get a word out as they were suddenly flanked by Tina and Ebra, who were simultaneously saying how good it was to see them and chastising them for being gone so long with so little communication.

It was Carmy that intervened, gently pulling Y/N away with a small laugh and saying, “okay, guys, let ‘em breathe.”

Richie was frozen in his spot behind the counter, feeling like he just saw a ghost.

Which, in a way, he did. It had been years since he saw Y/N, and no matter how much he tried forgetting about them, they haunted his thoughts. They had been high school sweethearts, and even though things didn’t end well between them he couldn’t help but still care deeply for them.

First loves were like that.

Y/N’s mind was on overdrive as Carmy walked them around and introduced them to the new faces working in the kitchen. Richie was being too quiet. Usually when he was avoiding a topic he didn’t like, he talked about everything else under the sun. Richie being quiet was dangerous territory.

They were pulled out of their thoughts once Tina slammed a large pot in the center of the larger tables in the dining area and yelled, “Family!”

Y/N took a seat between Tina and Fak, and was for once thankful for the man’s dedication to rambling. He was currently going on about how he should come inspect the building they were now the owner of, despite the building already having been cleared by state inspectors and having a fully staffed maintenance team.

“I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you, Fak,” Richie broke in, “it’s only a matter of time before they leave and make that place someone else’s problem. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N didn’t have it in them to fight back, even though they knew that was what the man wanted. They were too tired.

��That’s what you do best, huh, Y/N? Run away from all your problems and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces?”

Carmy sent Richie a warning glare, “Cousin.”

“No, Cousin,” funny how Richie can manage to make a term of endearment sound like an insult, “you had no right inviting them here.”

“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Y/N glared at Richie.

“That’s a load of shit, and you know it, toots.”

That was all it took for a screaming match to break out between the former lovers. Their voices drowned each other out, and all Carmy could make out was a slew of insulting names, curse words, and years of unpacked baggage.

He let them go at it for a couple of minutes before he dragged Richie out the front door with a cry of “enough!”

Y/N could hear the two men arguing outside from their place at the table before deciding that they’d had enough. They muttered a lame “excuse me” before moving through the kitchen to the back alley, their face heating up in embarrassment. It was nothing that most of the Beef’s staff hadn’t seen before, but Y/N could feel themselves reverting to a version of themself that they hadn’t been for a long time—they couldn’t help the embarrassment that came along with it.

They were halfway through their second cigarette when they heard the back door open and a familiar pair of track pants entered their field of vision.

“I got you those over a decade ago,” they exhaled the smoke and pressed their lighter into Richie’s outstretched hand, “isn’t it about time you get some new clothes?”

Richie kicked his leg around, inspecting the pants, “Ain’t nothing wrong with ‘em. Why get rid of something that works?”

“Big words coming from you.”

He met their half-assed glare with a furrowed look, “you were the one that left.”

“Not before you ended it.”

“We would’ve gotten back together. Always did,” a scoff, “You left.”

“And you moved on, had a kid—seems like things worked out.”

“Toots, if this is things working out, I don’t wanna know what it would have been like if they hadn’t.”

Y/N needed to change the subject before the tension killed them.

“How’s your girl doing, anyway?”

Richie grinned at Y/N, “Ev’s doing real good. Loving her new gymnastics class. Just turned nine last month.”

“Shit, that makes me feel old.”

“Well, what does that make me?” Richie asked with a rough laugh.

“Fucking ancient.”

Another laugh. Maybe things would be different between them this time.

“You in town for good, then?

“Yeah, I think so. Got a good thing going. Think I might start renovating some of the units in the apartment next year.”

“Hmm, sure,” Richie muttered absentmindedly around his cigarette.

Y/N decided it was better to not say anything.

Richie finished off his cigarette, tossing it in the general direction of a makeshift ashtray.

He made to walk back to the back door before turning and offering Y/N his hand, helping them pull themselves off the ground. He wiped his hands off on his track pants before finally going to move away.

“Anyway,” he gave them one last look before turning around and walking away, “don’t be a stranger.”

~~~

part two

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

Minor spoilers ahead.

I returned to the mansion alone and quietly closed the door.

(It was here that I first met Drake.)

(To think that this would also be where we part ways.)

As I touched the door that stood between him and me一

Napoleon: “Mitsuki!”

Mitsuki: “Napoleon, everyone.”

Everyone in the mansion rushed to join me.

Comte: “We got worried after reading your letter. Are you okay?”

Mitsuki: “Yes. I’m really sorry for worrying you.”

Vlad: “Mitsuki, did you go through the door?”

Napoleon: “Did you go after Drake?”

Mitsuki: “Yes. I went to settle things.”

Let’s rewind time a bit.

------------Flashback-----------

Drake was leading me through the dark hallway while holding my hand. After confessing our feelings on that cliff, we returned to the hallway that transcends time and space.

Mitsuki: “The mansion’s doors were experiencing some spatial anomalies, yet this place seems fine.”

Drake: “Probably because I’m here now.”

Tilting his head, he tugged at the harness belt wrapped around his shoulder and waist with his thumb.

Drake: “This thing acts as a stabilizer to keep us from getting lost in here. It’s keeping this place stable.”

Drake: “My genius partner created this.”

Mitsuki: “There’s such a thing?”

Drake: "Yeah. Well, his genius led him to bear a responsibility that went beyond simply designing a door."

(Is the person accompanying him the designer of the door?)

I heard Comte and Vlad build the door using a blueprint Vlad happened to come across.

Could it be that Galileo drew the original blueprint?

Drake: "So, what will you do, fawn?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Drake: "Right now, you can go wherever you want, whether it's the 19th century or the 21st century where you originally lived."

(----!)

Faced with an unexpected choice, I could only stand there, bewildered.

(The place I want to go...)

The place that came to mind was neither the 19th nor the 21st century.

Mitsuki: "I want to go to a certain place and confirm something."

Mitsuki: "It might be harsh for you, but..."

(I want to check it for his sake.)

The place I wanted to go was...

Drake: "This place..."

The location we visited was the garden of the old mansion一the place where Drake and his mother were captured.

Peering into that cruel hall from the garden, it seemed like the young Drake had already escaped, as there was no one there except for a woman crucified, her chest drenched in blood.

Drake: "You understand, right? We can't interfere with the past."

Mitsuki: "Yeah, I know."

He averted his gaze, seemingly avoiding facing whatever was in front of him.

This place probably still hurts him.

(I'm forcing him to confront painful and difficult memories.)

Even knowing that I was doing something terrible, I still held onto his hand and mustered my courage to step through the window into the room.

And then, amidst the choking smell of blood, we walked quietly toward his mother, her chest stained red.

(I really don't want to intrude at this moment.)

But if my guess was correct...

(I want him to know his mother's true feelings.)

She probably could no longer notice us as she was looking down, her tear-stained lips faintly moving.

Drake's mom: "That's right, run away, Francis."

Drake: "----!"

Drake's mom: "Sorry. I'm so sorry. Since giving birth to you, I've only brought you pain."

Drake's mom: "You can hate me, but please, survive."

Drake: "Mom..."

Drake's mom: "I love you, Francis."

With words of repentance and love, she breathed her last, uttering her son's name.

(Just as I thought.)

After shouting that she shouldn't have given birth to Drake, her lips seemed to move again, saying, "I'm sorry."

Mitsuki: "Maybe your mother tried to let you escape and intentionally pushed you away because she loves you."

This was the truth hidden behind the betrayal.

Drake: "Ha...hahaha..."

Drake: "Is this even possible?"

Drake dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands.

(Believing in something is very difficult, especially when you're consumed by sorrow and anger.)

However, feeling his pain and learning about the hope he had held deep within his heart, I felt that I could confirm it once more.

(The difficulty of believing and the strength to overcome it.)

(My encounter with him taught me that.)

I leaned my cheek against his trembling back and gently hugged him, wanting to ease the despair he had been carrying since childhood.

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki."

Drake: "Is it okay for me to believe those words?"

Mitsuki: "Of course."

Drake's hoarse voice was both heartbreaking and precious.

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Yeah?"

Drake: "Thank you. I'm glad I could hear those words."

Drake: "You've managed to overturn things again."

Drake: "Not that I mind, though."

(Drake...)

Gently narrowing his eyes, he held my hand and smiled.

It was a calm smile, different from his usual easygoing and fearless one.

This sight was probably the real him.

(His smile has always made my heart flutter, but right now I'm even more happy.)

Drake: "Hey, Mitsuki."

Suddenly, his voice and expression turned serious.

Drake: "Loving you made me realize there's something in this world worth believing in."

Drake: "But, you know, my hatred and despair towards humans and vampires haven't completely disappeared from within me."

Mitsuki: "Yeah."

(Human emotions are not that simple.)

Even if a ray of light shines through, I don't think it can melt his frozen heart instantly.

Mitsuki: "But it's precisely because I've witnessed your despair that I want to be by your side."

Mitsuki: "I want to live together with you."

(Since he's someone who can even throw himself away, I want to be there to lighten his despair a little.)

Drake laughed as I stared at him with such hope.

Drake: "Haha! You really are a kind soul, aren't you?"

Drake: "I'm glad to hear you say that, but I'm sure you'll struggle with our incompatibility."

Mitsuki: "That's not..."

Drake: "You can't say that with absolute certainty."

Drake: "You've probably cried and suffered, knowing my betrayal and desires."

He traced my cheek with his finger, as if there were still traces of tears.

(Could it be...?)

My chest tightened in unease as I anticipated what he was trying to say.

He smiled, covering the sadness in his eyes, and continued.

Drake: "Making the woman I love cry is enough for one night."

Drake: "Besides, it wouldn't be fair if I go back and there's someone I can't just leave behind."

Drake: "It might not be enough to make up for what I've done with the guys, but I'll make sure their precious little treasure gets home safely. Then I will disappear from your life."

(........)

His gentle smile and determination made my chest ache.

(I could finally touch his heart, and yet...)

I decided not to betray this love, but...

Mitsuki: "Is that what you really want?"

Drake: "Haha! That's a sneaky question."

After letting out a smile, he held me tightly.

Drake: "I thought about kidnapping you to the end of the sea where no one could chase after us, but..."

Mitsuki: "Drake..."

Drake: "But you have your own future that you believe in."

Drake: "A future full of hope and positivity, a future I never wanted."

Drake: "That's why I can't stay by your side."

His strong embrace seemed to express that he didn't want to let go, but at the same time, it clearly conveyed that this would be our last encounter.

Drake: "Hey, Fawn, would you like to make one final bet?"

Mitsuki: "What kind of bet?"

He let go of me slightly and lifted my hand.

Drake: "The fate of this world diverges into countless futures."

Drake: "Will everything meet its demise as I wish, or is there at least one future filled with hope, as you believe?"

Drake: "It's a bet on an endless future."

(But that's...)

It's an uncertain and endless gamble that spans across time and countless futures.

(Oh, I see.)

(So, this is his way of saying goodbye.)

Drake: "If I win, I'll come to take you."

Drake: "When the world falls apart, you'll be by my side. I promise."

He confidently laughed and made an impossible promise.

I mustered my courage and also made a bold statement.

Mitsuki: "So if I win, you're mine?"

Drake: "........."

Mitsuki: "Your heart, your trust, and you. I want it all."

Mitsuki: "You'll give up your wish for destruction, live with me, and be mine alone."

(Will I take him or will I be taken by him?)

A bet where we seek each other, a bet that will never lead to a conclusion, and a promise only to engrave each other in parting.

Drake: "Haha! You're even more greedy than me, little fawn."

Drake: "Yes, your majesty, as you wish."

Drake: "When you win, you can have me."

With a tender gesture, he kissed the back of my hand.

In the hallway that spans between the past and the future, we silently gazed at each other and gently exchanged our final kiss.

---------Flashback Ends--------

Mitsuki: "After that, I parted ways with Drake on the other side of the door."

I recounted all the events that had taken place to Comte, Leonardo, and Vlad.

I told Drake's life as a Dhampir, his despair towards humans, vampires, and the world, his desire for destruction, and the existence of his companion named Galileo.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for being selfish."

Comte, with his fingers interlocked and listening intently, slowly nodded as though digesting my words.

Comte: "Thank you for telling us. So, you came back to the 19th century to convey all that."

Leonardo: "For Drake, the historical figures who interfere with history are not only targets of his hatred towards vampires but also crucial sources of the destruction he desires."

Comte: "So it seems that the one distorting fate is an everlasting flower, after all."

Mitsuki: "Comte, I don't think that's true. We can't predict how anyone will influence history."

Comte: "You're right. Thank you, Mitsuki."

Vlad: "I'm also wondering what the architect of the door, Galileo, was thinking when he leaped through time."

Vlad, pausing slightly, continued with a somewhat melancholic tone.

Vlad: "I used to think that dhampirs were born from the coexistence of vampires and humans striving for harmony. But even there, persecution arises. Why does the sorrow continue?"

Leonardo: "The divide between races is an eternal dilemma for not just vampires but all beings in this world."

------------Flashback-----------

Drake: "The divisions among races are the root of fear and hatred. With that alone, anyone can become as cruel as they want."

Drake: "Whether human or vampire, their essence is the same. Hatred spreads through living beings as part of their nature."

---------Flashback Ends--------

I recalled the words Drake once uttered almost dismissively.

(There are humans who fear and hunt vampires, and there are purebloods who scorn humans.)

(And in between, there are dhampirs who lose their place.)

Through the incident with the hunters and Drake's past, I have witnessed the sad circumstances in which they persecuted each other.

(It's true that differences in race can give rise to fear and hatred, but...)

Mitsuki: "It's up to us to change the future. We can change it as much as we want."

Mitsuki: "I don't believe I have the power to change fate like Drake was talking about."

Mitsuki: "Even so, if the sad fate that originally existed somewhere has changed, I think it's because we, living in the same world, aimed for a better future together."

(Like the pureblood who loves humans, like Drake and I falling in love, we can coexist beyond our races and change towards a hopeful future.)

(We just need to believe.)

Believing made me feel connected to him, even though he was no longer here.

Leonardo: "That seems like something you would say."

Vlad: "True. Even if people call it idealistic, I want to believe that."

Smiling at each other, Comte looked at me with a slightly lonely expression.

Comte: "Should we leave Drake's room as it is?"

Comte: "A pirate needs a place to come home to, yeah?"

Comte's suggestion was probably out of concern for Drake and me.

(If Drake's place remains, even if just a little, I would feel a little comforted.)

Mitsuki: "Thank you, Comte."

(But...)

Despite expressing gratitude, my heart was tightly gripped with pain.

(Drake won't come back anymore.)

Previous Part ╎ Romantic End ╎ Dramatic End

[atc-tatiana]

Mental hospital au

(Credits goes to thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask but their reason they are here are different)

You were sitting alone with your hands warped around a flower stem. It was lunch time already, and people were pouring in the cafeteria. Number one and two were the people who were let out first. Seem as though they were the non killers or less crazy people. You were just transfer here last night, when everyone here was sleeping. They still don’t know what danger you are, so they are keeping their eyes on you. And today was like that, guards looking at you for any kind of threat. You hands were with chain, while you feet were free. As you were sitting outside waiting for lunch to be over you noticed a girl not too young nor too old. Maybe about 15 year old, she had very long brown hair and very green eyes. She had a teddy bear with her. She was wearing a light mint green dress; along with almost half have the people there. The other half was wearing a mossy green color. Maybe it’s to show what selection they are in; maybe even danger level. You though we’re wearing a white gown that was loose made you look like a box. Your hair was up as to show your whole face to everyone.

Ring! You looked as everyone got up and walked away from the cafeteria and the outside;they left shortly afterwards.” Ms.(l/n) you stay here until everyone has had lunch.” A guard told you as he put a hand on your shoulder. You simply nodded and looked out the side of this circle wooden building in the middle of the garden. You watched as orange and yellow gown wearing people got their lunch and sat inside the cafeteria. Instead of going outside. More guards pour into the cafeteria. Your eyes looked around the people as they talked and laughed. Some sat down along side the windows. How strange? What happened to make them all trap inside. Tap!tap! You looked to the other side and saw a man with a huge scar looking at you. He didn’t have a smile his skin looked dull like he never went outside. He was wearing orange though, you waved without a smile.

Your hand went to your mouth as you saw the man being pushed into the window. You got up and saw how a women with brown hair looked at him; disgusted. She had a clock for an eye with what appeared to be stitches on both side of her mouth. Next to her was a very pale looking women with pitch black hair. They both seem to be wearing orange gowns; it doesn’t look good on them.” Guards we have a orange to orange.”You watch as they got separated and taken away from everyone. Your eyes looked at the doctor for some thing. And the doctor saw what you were trying to get him to say.” We normally have outbreaks when the red comes here. But it’s not rare for orange people to cause a problem with out people. Yellow we don’t have to worry about them picking fights.”You sat down next to the doctor.” When the people do fight we separate them and put them on time out. Where they have to stay there until they have calm down. We don’t want anyone to be hurt.”You nodded to tell him that you understand. You peeked up as you saw the door open to let out two people, walking out. They were wearing yellow. Your hand pointed at them as your head looked looked up to the doctor.” They are not going to do anything, they seem more calm outside then inside with loud noise. You don’t have to worry they won’t do anything.”Your eyes looked at those two man sitting on those tables. One had very dark brown hair with side burns, his face looked cute. While the other had sunny brown hair with a little stubble on his jaw. Each of them had a different appearance, one was trying to move away from the other. And the other was just following the other one like a lost puppy. Those two don’t seem to get along. Oh you look over to those two as one was trying to eat his food. And the other was looking at the other.” Are they going to get into a fight?”You asked.

The doctor seemed surprised as you talked.” No, they haven’t fought since last week. But it’s always the one in the right that starts the fight.”You almost giggled as the one on the right took a bite of his food while side eyeing the other.” I see they entertain you. Ms.(l/n).” You went down on the floor, the thick wooden sticks surrounded this little building. Hide you from those two, as you watched them.” Do they know each other?”You asked as you looked at the doctor.” Yes a real long time ago. But we don’t know why they don’t like each other anymore.”You got up and sat down next to the doctor!RING!” Everyone line up.”You saw everyone getting up and line up to get out of the cafeteria. It took long for everyone to get out of the cafeteria. Though with fights brewing but we’re stop immediately.

I waited as more guards came outside and surrounded the building everywhere.” Stay close Ms.(l/n) danger is coming up.”I sat close to the doctor and saw how one by one people where walking inside the cafeteria. Their hands and legs bound, their mouth were bound as well. They all seem like animals, with how little movement they had. And everyone there had to sit down, and what it seem like; it was in order. Guards were taking food over to them; red people. They all looked like they were about to kill someone. Not to mention they all looked different; very different than the rest.” Why are they here?”You asked, feeling more afraid.” They we’re supposed to be in prison but they found them very mentally unstable to go there.”the doctor said. You took a deep breathe before feeling your stomach hurt.” I see you need food. Come, let’s get inside.”You got up and followed the doctor inside the cafeteria. Guards were closely by you and the doctor. You took your food and followed out the cafeteria.

Eyes we’re following you as you left.

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

Feast of the Wolves

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!werewolf!reader

Warning: jealousy, Cersei, angst, forbidden love

Summary: The King travels to the North.

Wolfsbane Masterlist

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The caravan of the king rolled into the courtyard of Winterfell. All Stark’s and their staff stood outside waiting for the King and his family to excite the carriages. You stood in the back in between Jon and Theon. You wanted to ask him who was who but were too scared to murmur anything. Jon felt your questions and pointed out every person he knew. You nodded along as the royal family stepped onto the muddy ground.

You saw the disdain in the queen’s eyes. Her gaze swept over Winterfell. Disgust was clearly written in her features and oozed out of every pore in her body. You felt rage cursing through your body. Your northern pride is being hurt by her disdainful look.

The king greeted his old friend. Ned introduces everyone in his family to him, including Jon, Theon, and yourself. You felt the eyes of King Robert ogle you like you were meat in front of a starving man. You shivered and shrunk back in yourself. Jon, who saw the king's gaze on you, stepped lightly before you. He knew his brother was fuming on the inside but had to keep his composure in front of the royal family. You smiled softly at the gesture and thanked him with a squeeze of his hands.

The king turned to the head of Winterfell and requested to see the tomb where Lyanna, Ned beloved younger sister, was laid to rest. Ned told his wife to lead the rest of the quest inside and show them to their rooms while he visited his sister's grave with his grieving friend.

As you followed your new friends into the building you felt a small tug on your hand. You looked down and saw the familiar hand of the young wolf. He pulled you with him into a side corridor where he pulled you deep into his chest. “Are you fine, my lady?”

The sudden and fast movement surprised you. Your body tried to balance out the manhandling. Your hands were splayed out on Robb’s chest. Your front pressed into his. You looked up at his concerned face with wide eyes. “I am fine, my lord. We should get inside. It isn’t proper for us to be alone together.”

As you pulled away Robb felt the warmth he felt when you were pressed to his chest leave him. He stood in the corridor and saw you disappear. He tried to follow you. He entered the Great Hall and was met with loud music and drunk people. He searched for you if you were somewhere in the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. Defeated he sat on the table where his father and his namesake sat.

You sat outside a bench. The cheerful music flowed out of the hall. Lady Catelyn had told you; you were welcome on the table. You smiled at her and thanked her before she walked off. But your sour mood would not seem to vanish. When a little hand snaked around yours, you wanted to run up to your chambers.

You looked down and saw Arya standing next to you. The stoic little girl looked up to you with her big blue eyes. “Please come with me.” She had a pleading look in her eyes. “I like you. Please don’t leave me at the table alone. I can’t bear to listen to Sansa gushing about Prince Joffrey and whatever.”

You smiled softly at her. “I am honoured to sit by your side, Lady Arya.” The young girl frowned up at her. “Never call me Lady again.” You had to giggle at the young child as she grumbled the sentence.

The older girl held out her hand for the younger one to take. Arya gladly took it and began to drag Y/N into the Great Hall. Before they entered Arya turned to her. “I’m sorry Robb and you aren’t allowed to marry. He was so happy when he told me and my older siblings about you. Mother still thinks it is better to marry without love and grow to love your partner than to marry them without some benefits.”

Arya hugged her around the hips. Her head against the young woman’s stomach. “I wish you were my sister. You seem so nice.” You smiled sadly down at her thinking the same.

At the feast, you were seated next to Arya and Sansa. The older girl longingly watched the prince enjoy the festivities held in his family’s honour. As her younger sister saw the look in her eyes she scoffed and rolled her own. You giggled under your breath.

With a goblet in her hands, Cersei, sitting at the head of the woman’s table, watched over the feast with bored eyes. She scanned everyone in the hall till she saw you in front of her. The lioness watched you with hooded eyes as you conversed with the Stark household's youngest daughter.

She envied your youthfulness and the lightness around you. She watched you laugh and enjoy the evening. Caitlyn saw the green look on the queen’s face. She followed it with fast eyes before landing on you. “She is our new ward. Y/N is a daughter of a bannerman of ours. Their village is under attack and for her safety Robb took her here.” The Queen nodded at you. Her eyes had a dangerous glint she tried to mask with indifference.

You felt the queen’s eyes on you the whole time. You may not have your heightened sight in your human form, but you have other heightened senses that are protecting you. Out of the corner of your eye, you felt another stare. Robb had his cup of ale in his hand. The only thing coming to mind as you watched him stare at you was murderous. He was fuming. You were worried for him.

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[justalonelyslytherin]

under the mistletoe

A 1.3k words long 'My Kingdom, Your Kingdom' Christmas present. Merry Christmas everyone <3

The village was beautiful. Everywhere she looked, she was fascinated by the cozy, homely space. There was not one spot left without decoration, beautiful lights, and garlands with ornaments strung everywhere. Every window was illuminated, cut-out snowflakes and other motifs pinned to them. 

And the smell. Coming from every nearby store, a sweet and aromatic smell wafted through the streets. Like hot chocolate, cider, and the local sweets Steve had introduced to her not long ago. Her lips still tasted like the frosted confections, the fruity flavor of various jams left behind on her tongue. 

Her face grew warm at the memory of Steve wiping away a dusting of powdered sugar from her bottom lip. It was as if his touch lingered there, the feeling of a comfortable prickling in her stomach.

Now they were walking around aimlessly, taking in the beautiful scenery in the old center. Snow covered the roofs of the surrounding buildings thickly, yet the walkways were free. Little speckles of thawing salts dusted the cobblestone pathways. 

“What is that?” Curiosity piqued, her feet carried her to a small alcove-looking stone structure. As she came closer, it turned out to be a small archway and not an alcove. The sound of running water could be heard from the other end.

“Where is it going to?” She turned towards Steve, who had patiently followed her as she ran from one side to the other, no apparent path in mind, wandering to whatever interested her next. His nose had grown pinkish in color from the cold, the barest dusting of red on his cheeks was hidden beneath the thick beard. When Yelena had compared him to a lumberjack earlier that morning he had grown red too, which had only enticed the young blonde to teasingly call him a ‘ruddy bear’.

Now Steve looked at her with warmth, the soft smile on his lips pursed for a moment as he thought about it. “I think at the end is an observation point for the river. It crosses through the village just up front.”

Her eyes lit up at the thought of it. Noticing it, Steve chuckled and cocked his head to the side, “Want to go look?”

Moments later they walked side by side through the dim archway. The sound of the water got louder and louder until at the end the path opened up to a semicircular lookout, not of a simple river but a small waterfall. In the middle of the village.

It was a magnificent sight, even something as ordinary as this had her fascinated. She felt like a small child, discovering the world outside the castle for the first time. Pressed against the stone and metal railing, her hands clasped around the intricately twisted rails, she eyed the water. Steam rose where the rush met the body of water beneath it, ice floes drifting on the surface not far away.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Steve, who had stepped beside her, didn’t react. 

“Steve?” 

The blonde, instead of watching the pretty view, was focused on something above them. As her eyes followed, she noticed a small green twig with pale berries and a red bow attached in the middle of the arch.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Mistletoe,” he answered finally, his voice sounded strangely shy.  She had heard of the name before, a memory on the tip of her tongue. Only when his blushing became more apparent and caught her eye, she remembered.

“There’s this tradition-”

“I know,” she softly called out, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“We don’t have to if you– if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Shaking her head, she heard him give a small surprised yelp. With furrowed brows, she looked up once more. “It’s bad luck to refuse it. At least in Widovia, it is widely believed that doing so will bring misfortune.”

She was well aware that her insistence concluded that they’d have to share a kiss, something she wasn’t sure about either. Suddenly just as shy, she averted her eyes downwards, her fingers came together to tug at one another.

“I understand,” his voice was silky smooth and soft as could be, as his finger lifted her chin. The softness with which he always rendered her, sprouted butterflies in her stomach. An encouraging smile had replaced his previously timid features.

“A kiss is a kiss, right? It’s not stated where it has to be placed.” She nodded, although she couldn’t quite catch what he meant.

“This means a kiss to the cheek should suffice. I think we can both agree to that and it won’t be awkward afterward.”

So that’s what he meant. The nervous ball of energy dissipated from her chest, a nod all she needed to confirm. Yet there remained a bout of disappointment, a pebble of sourness in the pit. Why did she feel rejected?

Steve leaned down towards her, now with an almost boyish grin as he angled his face, presenting her with his bearded cheek. Laughter bubbled in her chest, albeit dimmed by the bitter feeling left behind. Even with him leaning down she had to push up on her toes to reach him properly. 

His beard was surprisingly soft beneath her lips – she’d always imagined beards to be itchy and prickly like needles – tickling her ever so slightly. Steve drew in a sharp breath at the ever-so-soft contact, his heart tripled in his chest, warmth threatening to tint his face a deeper shade of red. As innocent a gesture as it was it left him feeling dizzy and giddy. He felt sheepish to feel like this, awkward, and fearing to take advantage of her. It took all the restraint in him to not turn his head and steal a proper kiss from her. 

Oh how desperately he wanted to buckle down and press his lips against her, for a kiss he’d been unconsciously longing for ever since he first laid his eyes on her. Closed for the briefest moments he now opened his eyes again as she pulled back.

There she stood beside him, a little flustered, with blown pupils and her fingers nimbly touching her lips.

As bitter cold as the weather had been outside, Steve didn’t feel cold anymore. He wanted to kiss her, to feel the softness of her lips on his - for her lips certainly must be heavenly plush, and kissable.

The simple contact of lip to cheek had electrified the both of them, unknown to one another they longed for the same thing. Rooted to the spot she stood, unable to avert her eyes from his blue ones. The normally crystalline color was clouded. He seemed to be stuck in contemplation, his irises shaking as he wagered in his mind until at last, his lids dropped and together with them his gaze.

Contemplation transformed into certainty. A decision had been made and he would act according to it. And acting he now did.

Steve took an impossible step closer, their shoes bumped against one another. As close as they were now the subtle hint of his perfume wafted over to her. It was a sweet note, something that ensnared her senses even more with him.

Leaning even closer, nose to nose now, his breath ghosted along her lips and all she wanted was for them to meet. One last glance deep into her eyes and what both of them had longed for so deeply happened.

A timid kiss at first, seconds ticked by in which their lips were slotted against one another unmoving, pressed together almost shyly as they gained control and focus. Then, moving in unison, their lips moved against one another like cogs in a machine, fitting so perfectly as if they were made for this single purpose alone. Arms followed in a shared embrace, fingers grabbing at the fabric of coats, smoothing along the lines of flesh and body. 

Around them the world quieted down, narrowing impossibly onto them and the small waterfall quietly going on in the background.

[billthedrake]

FIFTY SHADES OF DADBOD

PART TWO: THE BEAR

I was lucky. If I'd been able to back then, I would have tried to become the object of my desire. My buddy Sam and I were going through a bulking phase at the gym, and for about a month I watched in excitement as my own midsection start to get a little softness. But my metabolism kicked in and just as quickly it melted away, leaving that ripped abdomen in its wake.

Pretty quickly I leaned my body - riding the cusp between slender college kid and a real jock's body - was the thing that could attract the bodies I wanted. Even if my next hookups weren't nearly as hot as Pat the Coach, the men had bodies I craved and they made no bones about loving mine. I realized I didn't have to have the dadbod, I just had to be the guy the dadbods went for.

And they did.

That's why I was surprised at my first contact with bear culture. My college town didn't have a big enough gay scene, but the summer after sophomore year, my friend Nick and I took a road trip to the closest big city for Pride. Nick was probably my closer gay friend at school, and we'd been getting tighter lately. We didn't have a plan or know where to go, but at the parade we ended up next to a bunch of bears, some of them muscle bears, some just regular beary bears. They were a hoot, and even though Nick definitely goes for pretty jock boys, his party-loving nature responded to the crowd. A young cub type, Mitchell, produced a thermos and a plastic cup and poured both of us some vodka punch.

"Here you go, fellas," he said.

Sometimes bears do it for me, sometimes they don't. That day pushed me more into the "do" side. I was horny and I think I'd built up expectation of hooking up now that I was away from my small college town. As I got a little tipsy from the vodka, I started eying up the guys.... Derek, a burly rugby build of a dude, not too hairy, Mitchell the cute bearded cub, or Ken, a hairy guy who had a round beer belly that stuck out over a preppy pair of chino shorts.

The dudes were friendly and that day I found out what I loved about bear culture was their laidback nature. Little of that attitude you could sometimes see in the scene. But damnit they're not interested in anyone but a fellow bear. I was a leaner, smoother young guy, and I was not who they went for.

It became particularly evident as the bear pack invited us back to a house party after. We were fish out of water, two lean, clean-shaven college guys among a bunch of bears, some in their 20s, some much older.

"Having a good time?" A guy in his mid-20s said as he walked up to me. He had a similar build to me, which on his somewhat older frame came across as more slender. Unlike me, he was real hairy, with a full dark beard trimmed at a half inch and a full pelt of chest hair. I gathered this is what guys meant by an otter. His question didn't seem friendly, but I was glad to have someone to talk to. I wasn't as outgoing as Nick.

"Oh yeah, it's great," I said. I was grateful to have something to do since I didn't have a fake ID for getting into the bars.

"Well, I guess it's fun slumming with the bears, huh?" His voice was icy and he added that I should go to the main gay neighborhood, which I guess he associated with the A-list gays. He gave a fake bitchy smile and walked past me.

I felt a little shaken, in part because I wondered if I was slumming. I mean, I thought a lot of the guys were hot. Not all of them, but hell why should I find everyone attractive? Maybe I should go. Even if I couldn't get into the bars, there were still lots of guys walking around.

Just then, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Ignore Craig," he said with a friendly smile. "He's territorial about who talks to his boyfriend."

"Whose his boyfriend?" I asked, completely unaware. I was aware of how attractive the guy talking to me was. Near my height at 5'11", thinning hair, neatly trimmed beard that was showing wisps of silver to match his temples. He probably wasn't that old, maybe 40 or just past, but when you're a college kid that seems a lot older. He had a thick body, with strong upper body muscle that filled out his T shirt and a modest belly that filled it out even more.

And then there was his smile. That won me over. "Jack... the burly guy over there."

I laughed. "I think we did small talk about life in the city. Really it was nothing."

"Yeah, Craig can be a little bitch." This guy then held out his hand. "I'm Phil."

"Jason," I said with a smile.

He had a fun masculine energy. He talked like a gay guy if that's a thing, but with a mellow baritone voice. It was hot. I figured I'd enjoy the small talk as he asked me about college and talked about his work. He could tell that I was excited to attend my first pride. And inwardly I figured that I'd just relish just how attractive he was as we talked.

"So how did you end up at a bear party?" Phil asked.

I shrugged and replied with a little laugh. "I dunno... we were just standing next to Mitchell and Ken, and my friend Nick struck up a conversation." I paused. "I guess stuff's tribal in the city's gay scene, huh?"

Phil nodded. "Guilty as charged," he chuckled. Then with a knowing look he added, "For the record, you're my fucking type to a T."

My heart did beat a little faster. The anticipation of getting laid came back quickly. "Lucky me, then," I said, doing my best to flirt back.

"Wanna come back to my place?" Phil asked, directly.

I laughed at the no-nonsense approach, but knew my answer. "Definitely." I set down my Solo cup and looked around. "Let me tell my friend I'm taking off."

I found Nick who gave me a wingman's tease for getting lucky. I told him I'd see him back at our hotel room.

Phil seemed happy, almost giddy as we walked down the street, each of us sneaking glances at one another. "You into bears?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know to be honest," I answered. "I hope you don't mind my saying, but I'm into men with some extra padding." I felt nervous bringing it up.

He smirked as he looked at me. "Why would I mind? Do guys get upset when you bring it up?"

I blushed. "I guess I never actually told a guy I'm into that." It felt liberating but also scary to say it out loud.

Phil gave me a quick friendly pat to the back. "You can feel free to tell me, man...." he gestured to the next building. "This is my place."

We paused our conversation as we made our way up to his condo. But once inside, Phil wasted no time in stepping up and meeting me for a kiss. Up till this point I'd had a range of experiences with men... quick hookups, one failed attempt at dating another college guy, and my very hot one night stand with Coach Pat. This vibe was different, and Phil was sure of himself in the way of an out, experienced gay man.

I loved it, but half of it was being majorly horny. I'd been surround by gay men all day and had gotten worked up looking at the eye candy.

I put Phil in that category. Feeling emboldened, I ran my hands openly over his belly, feeling the softness through his T-shirt, as he felt up my back.

"So..." he said as we finally broke the kiss. "You like some extra padding."

"God yes," I hissed, feeling glad I could be open about it.

He cocked his eyebrow. "You like em with a little more than mine, or a little less?"

From anyone eles that might have come across as insecurity, but I could tell Phil was trying to feel me out and work me up in the process. I replied with a clear excitement in my voice. "Sometimes less, actually, but you're perfect," I said. I took the initiative in running my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt to touch the furry stomach.

"So you're into dadbods," he observed.

It was 2015 and that was the first time I'd heard that term. But I didn't need it explained. Somehow I intuitively knew what it referred to, and I knew deep down that it was the perfect encapsulation of my core desire. My dick throbbed hard in my shorts.

"Like crazy, yeah," I said, still blushing some.

Phil stepped back and peeled off his shirt. While the fabric had held in his round midsection in, that belly now drooped a little. The man's body was solid, gym-built solid, but he didn't have that ex-jock look of Coach Pat. He was kind of a bearier version of a muscle bear. I was into it.

"Lose the clothes, Jason. I'm really horny."

So this wasn't going to be romantic. I could have easily gotten a little crushed out on this older man, but I'd take a Pride quickie. I disrobed as fast as I could, getting into the lusty way he looked at me as he took off his shorts and underwear. Phil had a shorter but thicker than average cock. It pointed straight up and fit his body somehow.

"Come on," he urged, and I followed him to his bedroom. From behind it was a magnificent view. Strong back and shoulders, power ass, and doughy love handles poking out on the sides. Phil's encouragement of my preferred body type made me emboldened. I stepped up behind him and gripped those fleshy love handles.

He chuckled and leaned back into my nakedness. "Looks like I hit the jackpot,” he hissed. "Horny college kid."

My dick felt rock hard against his ass, and I could feel that in addition to the meaty muscle, there was more than a little give to his buns as well. My hands cradled from his love handles to the front of his belly. "Man I'm the one who his the jackpot... fuck." I openly massaged his stomach and sides and got off on the fact Phil wasn't stopping me.

He reached back and between us, feeling around for my cock and gripping it. "We didn't discuss preferences, Jason... but I'd love for you to FUCK me," he grunted, putting a sexy emphasis on the word fuck.

I leaked in his hand. "Yeah?" I prodded. I'd never actually fucked a guy by that point and had only bottomed with two men. I was very game to do this.

"Fuck yeah," he hissed, then turned around and met me for a kiss. Our making out was very needy and sexual and we pawed at each other, kind of humping our cocks against one another.

Phil was leading this whole hookup, and I was following his lead. I was OK with that, particularly as I watched his meaty, beary body pull back and walk toward the bed. Roughly, he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed some lube, flipping the cap to slick up his dick. "There's rubbers in there if you want."

Maybe it would have been better if my first time fucking a guy was more romantic or at least sensual. But I doubt it. I watched all 5'11" of his thick body get up on the bed, on all fours, spreading his legs lewdly. I'd have to learn about foreplay and rimjobs from another guy. Phil was eager to get mounted, and I realized I was in an impatient mood, too.

I picked up the lube and poured some on my hardon. Maybe too much, but I didn't know what I was doing and I figured he'd want extra slickness. And yeah, I looked at the condoms, but left them there in the drawer.

I got in place and teased that hairy crack. Phil flexed his buns for me and gave a satisfied grunt as I nudged at his pucker. I played with that ring with my overly slick cockhead, but after a half minute got the feeling Phil didn't need much working open. I pushed in.

"God yeah, man," Phil said, loudly. "Stick that teen cock in me."

I almost corrected him that I'd just turned 20, but I was only a few weeks past my teen years.

My dick sailed right in, the natural clenching of his guts no match for all the lube I'd slathered on. "Shit!" I gasped in turn, feeling my balls press against his ass. He was hot and snug inside, and I got off seeing his big body beneath mine.

Instinctively I thurst. Phil didn't tell me to stop or slow down, I just began fucking the man.

"Fuck, yes," he finally urged in that sexy voice of his. "Fuck my hole."

I did, getting real into it. If it hadn't been for the lube and the lack of friction, I would have nutted by then. Instead, I enjoyed the right amount of pleasure to keep my staying power going.

"Fuck me!" he urged.

"God, you're so fucking hot!" I hissed. I now grabbed those love handles again, so full in my hands. Then as I ran my hands up his firmer lats I could see the sides of his belly jiggle with my thrusts. That's what did it for me. I came and came hard.

"Fuck!" I gasped.

Phil knew what was going on. "That's it man, cum in me." He was flogging on his own prick and about ten seconds later I felt his ass clench down on my now spent prick as Phil entered his own orgasm.

I kind of collapsed on his back, then after a second dismounted him. Phil was all business after that. Not unfriendly, but it was clear the sex was over. He let me wash off then he thanked me for a good time and gave me a quick kiss at his condo door. "Happy Pride," he growled.

I'd never see the man again, but it was thanks to him that I had my horizons expanded. My first piece of ass, my first big city hookup, my first bear.

And my first bear had given me a new word for my desires: dadbod.

[riotouseaterofflesh]

You can wave a white flag; you can be an old woman or a newborn baby or someone else who visibly poses no threat whatsoever; you can be an Israeli hostage calling for help—if they see you, they will try to kill you. The five-month massacre in Gaza is not collateral damage, or an unfortunate side effect of the war against Hamas. There is no war against Hamas. Just this. The only military objective is to kill piano teachers and poets.

What I find really unbearable, though, what sticks in my throat like a clammy marble of rage, is the combination of mass murder and smugness. Israeli soldiers keep filming themselves committing smug atrocities. There’s one video I can’t stop thinking about: not even close to the worst thing the IDF has done, but maybe the most galling. An Israeli soldier stands in the ruins of a classroom in Gaza. He pulls a framed certificate off the wall and smashes it. He takes the time to erase the lessons from the chalkboard. Big man! How brave, this soldier encrusted in body armour and grenades! How heroically you defend yourself against a room where young children learn to read! But that really is exactly what he thinks. He thinks he’s being brave. Standing up against the oppressors of the Jewish people. Refusing to walk meekly into the gas chambers. He even writes it on the now-erased board: עם ישראל לא לפחד; the people of Israel aren’t afraid. Elsewhere Israeli soldiers posed in Gaza’s parliament building, grinning like they’d just taken the Reichstag. What a victory! This murderous ratissage into a city that’s been under Israeli occupation their entire lives, and their parents’ entire lives too. Then they planted dynamite around the building and blew it up. The entire country is mad off this stuff, and I do mean mad: saucer-eyed, loony. Israel’s foreign ministry shrieks like a funeral drunk whenever any government dares to raise an objection to its killing spree. Spain is Hamas! Ireland is ISIS! The whole world is made of Hitler! They also think they’re being brave. A lonely voice for justice. Confronting a cruel world with its complicity. At the Kerem Shalom crossing, protesters draped in the Israeli flag dance and sing and block aid shipments from entering Gaza. More famine! More disease! More stillborn children! They think they’re being brave too. The arctic glint of righteousness in their eyes. Even the more liberal sectors of Israeli society are getting in on it. Someone who was in Tel Aviv recently told me that most liberal Israelis don’t really have the emotional bandwidth at the moment to care too much about Palestinian suffering. They know what’s happening just down the coast from Tel Aviv, but it doesn’t register. They’re still in shock after October 7th, still worried sick for the hostages, still mourning the dead. It’s too early to worry or mourn for anyone else. The person who told me this didn’t think this Zone of Interest-style sociopathy was a bad thing. He didn’t understand why I found it so hideous. In a way, it’s also brave. It takes courage to let yourself really feel what you’re feeling, to sit with your grief, to admit that you hurt. It takes courage to be so emotionally complex. Not like the barbarians on the other side of the fence.

This madness is not limited to Israel. Everyone remembers being bullied at school. Even celebs, film stars, supermodels, beautiful and charismatic people, all seem to have had a hard time of it when they were kids. Some people build the entire foundation of their adult life on having been bullied as a child. You were such a misfit, you were so interesting and different… But nobody seems to remember being the bully, and I promise you that at some point in your life, you were also the bully. I certainly was. I couldn’t comprehend the senseless sadism of the kids who’d gang up on me, back when I was seven years old with dyspraxia and a speech impediment. What had I ever done to them? How could anyone bear to be so cruel? But somehow, all that stuff went out the window as soon as I encountered anyone lower down the totem pole than I was. My cruelty wasn’t senseless. Other people had been cruel to me, which made me a victim: anything I did was, by definition, fighting back, being brave. After all I’d been through, didn’t I deserve to experience the joys of power? Just a little? As a treat?

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Man from Black Water, Chapter 20

A/N  With this epilogue, I’m wrapping up the crazy crossover that was bringing Jamie and Claire into the Man from Snowy River universe.  Thanks to everyone for reading, commenting, liking and reblogging.  It’s been a real joy to introduce many of you to this world that I’ve loved since I was you.

Previous chapters are available on my A03 page.

“Twins?” sapphire eyes rounded with tentative excitement.  “How can ye be sure?”

“If you put your hand here, you can feel one head,” Claire patiently explained.  “And over here is another.”

“Tang dhia,” Jamie offered up a heartfelt prayer of thanks for this abundance of good fortune.

“Ye’ll be able to deliver them safely, Sassenach?” his smile faltered as worry set in.

Claire looked up from where she was crouched on the barn floor.

“That’s really up to this lady here,” she patted the cow on the flank as she rose to her feet.  “But I’ll do whatever I can to help her out.”

Jamie nodded, relieved by his wife’s reassurance.

“That was the last heifer ye needed tae examine, aye?”

“Yes, I’m all done.  With a little luck, we’ll have eleven calves joining the herd come springtime.”

It was better than Jamie could have hoped, and it was all thanks to his wife.

***

After a blissful few days sequestered indoors, familiarizing themselves with the many carnal delights their new marriage offered, Claire finally convinced her husband to don enough clothing to step outside on a crisp, clear day, and show her his ideas for improving Lallybroch.  Excited his humans were no longer abed, Rollo lolloped ahead of them.

“A larger stable would go aboot here,” Jamie indicated a relatively flat piece of elevated ground, “wi’ space enough fer six stalls and a wee storage room fer yer instruments an’ such.”

Claire marveled once again at her husband’s easy acceptance of her chosen profession and his utter certainty she would be successful in pursuing it.

“Around the bend in the river there is a spot that’s sheltered from the northerly wind where I’d build a shed fer the cattle,” Jamie continued, his voice growing eager with anticipation.

“Won’t it be too cold to keep them out of doors all winter?” Claire wondered aloud.

With no little pride, Jamie preceded to spell out his grand plan. By crossbreeding hardy Highland cows with Lowland breeds better known for their meat, he intended to beat the cattle barons like Henry Beauchamp at their own game, albeit on a much smaller scale. The resulting livestock would be far cheaper to over-winter and would not need to be driven back and forth to the rich upland grazing, thus saving time and increasing yield.

“Jamie, that’s brilliant!” Claire enthused.  Her husband blushed beneath his winter tan, delighted by her praise.  Caught up in her excitement, Claire then proceeded to suggest several refinements to his plan.  The most important of these was to purchase slightly older heifers, rather than the one-year-olds he’d planned to procure from her father.

“Wouldna the older mothers ha’ fewer years tae produce?” he asked.

“Some animals bear young that are carbon copies of themselves, no matter the sire.  If you look at a cow’s previous offspring, you’ll know whether she’s going to pass along the longer coat and that Highland hardiness that you’re after.  You lose a few generations of calves, but what you gain are the characteristics you’re trying to ensure.”

Jamie looked at his wife in awe, the cold breeze staining her cheeks the colour of summer apples and blowing her hair amok.  It made him wonder.

“Will our bairns take after their sire’s red hair, do ye think Sassenach?” he half jested.  “Or will they have a mad curly wig like their mam?”  In truth, he rather hoped for a combination of the two.

Still a bit shy about speaking openly of their romantic life and its consequences, Claire bit her lip and looked down the glen, rather than meeting his eye.

“I suppose we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

***

“When do you leave for Inverness?” Claire asked as they walked hand-in-hand back to the main house after examining the cows.

“Day after next, if the weather holds.”

“I’m so proud of you, darling.  Perthshire’s first crofting commissioner.”

The Napier Commission had finally achieved its aims, and Parliament had passed the Crofters Holding Act the previous summer.  No longer could the Campbells or any other landlord turn Jamie or his fellow crofters out of their hereditary homes, so long as they continued to occupy them and used the land productively.  Rents couldn’t be arbitrarily increased.  The various counties of Scotland had elected representatives to a Crofting Commission that oversaw all disputes between crofters and their landlords.  Well-respected, charismatic and intelligent, James Fraser had been a natural choice for their region.

“Will ye visit wi’ yer Aunt Rosemary and Murtagh while I’m away?” he asked as they closed the door against the wind and moved into Lallybroch’s new ground floor sitting room.  A beautiful pine stairway Jamie had crafted by hand led upstairs to the three bedrooms.

“Maybe for the day, but I’m looking forward to having the time to do a little reading, perhaps catch up on some mending.”

Jamie settled into his favourite overstuffed armchair beside the fire, pulling Claire onto his lap before she could sit elsewhere.

“Are ye tired o’ yer husband awready then?” he teased, kissing the velvet skin beneath her jaw.

“You are rather distracting,” Claire purred as she extended her neck to invite further exploration.

“Aye,” he agreed, too pleasantly occupied to feign indignation.  Claire shifted her weight, rubbing her ample bottom against his groin in a move he was quite certain was deliberate.  She looked like an angel, but his wife was an incorrigible wanton, God be praised.

“Jamie?” she interrupted as he began the laborious process of peeling off all her winter layers.

“Hmm?”

“Maybe, by the time you come back from Inverness, I’ll have news for you.”

Even nose deep in her cleavage, Jamie heard the tentative, expectant tone in his wife’s voice.  His heart started to pound like a fist against his ribs.  He looked up into her bright, hopeful face with tears stinging the back of his throat.

“Then I shall rush home wi’ all due haste, Sassenach.”

[catdotjpeg]

In recent weeks, hundreds of people, the vast majority of them students, have been arrested by the NYPD as part of the police crackdown on pro-Palestinian protesters at campuses across the city. NYPD officers have pepper-sprayed protesters, slammed and pushed people to the ground, and beaten students to the point they had to be taken to the hospital. 

The NYPD's indiscriminate mass arrests have also targeted bystanders. That's what happened to 51-year-old Omar R. on the evening of April 30. Omar was walking his family's dog Neptune, a perky Pomeranian, on their usual route by City College when they encountered a swarm of NYPD officers about to raid the CUNY campus. Quickly surrounded by NYPD officers in riot gear and with Neptune in his arms, Omar barely managed to hand her off to a stranger nearby before being handcuffed on the ground and taken to One Police Plaza, where he was charged with disorderly conduct. 

We spoke with Omar about what happened that night—and how he and his family got Neptune back. Spoiler alert—it was the protesters and their supporters, not the NYPD, who mobilized to reunite Neptune and her family.

Hell Gate: Let's start with the night of April 30—what were you doing that evening?  Omar R.: I live about five blocks away from City College, and we walk to City College every day. I had been taking Neptune on that walk regularly and seen the protest and the encampment. And it was very peaceful and very cool and chill. And I actually had spoken to people there, I felt very supportive of it. I had actually helped a friend of mine drop off some ice one day, like a big cooler of ice.  On that particular day, I walked out of my house, and when I got up the hill, and I got toward City College, I could see that now there was a big police presence, and they had City College blocked off. There were a lot of people in the street, and now, instead of CUNY police, it was the NYPD around.  But I didn't think that the vibe seemed chaotic or violent. It was many people chanting, carrying signs, and beating drums; for the most part, I mean, it was just people exercising their right to free speech in the street. And there were some police around, and the police that I saw seemed pretty nonplussed, just kind of saying to people, "Look, you can't get to the school." And then a few moments later, a van or a bus came by and dropped off a whole contingent of police in riot gear and helmets. And at that moment, there was a part of me thinking, I should witness what's happening, what is going on in my community, and the school. I really enjoy City College, my grandfather went there. We refer to it as Hogwarts, right? It's just a really cool place to spend part of your day. And so I just felt like I needed to kind of bear witness and see what's happening.  There was another part of me that said, things look like they're going to go down. I didn't want to stay too close, so I started walking away.

[...]

And I think the police may have felt like they were losing some control, because then suddenly they started with their own PA system, which was very loud, and they stated that everyone should get off the street onto the sidewalk. And so they started pushing, and I could see that people were starting to get jostled a bit.  I'm on the sidewalk and I've got my back pressed up against the building, and I'm thinking to myself, all right, I'm far enough away where I shouldn't be considered the epicenter if anything goes down. I don't feel like I'm too close. I feel far enough away, and I'm not bothering anyone.  I remember at that moment seeing someone in a motorized wheelchair, a young person in the street. And I remember the police following them, but they weren't going fast enough, and they were kind of pushing this person in the wheelchair, and then suddenly out of nowhere, there was like a phalanx of police coming up the sidewalk, like four people abreast. And they're just screaming to people and yelling, "Move, move, fucking move." 

[...]

I just stood there and they pushed me, and I guess I didn't move fast enough, and they just took me as a threat. That whole time, I'm holding my dog in my arms, and next thing I know, I'm surrounded. And I'm like, "All right, I'll go." They were like, "No, no, no, no. That's too late. You're going down." And I'm holding my dog, and they're all over me, and I'm screaming for people, I'm trying to get attention, because I don't know what to do with my puppy. I've got so many people around me, I can't put her down. And there's no officer saying to me, like, "Hey, we'll take your dog. You're under arrest. We'll take your puppy." They're grabbing me and telling me, "You're going down. Don't resist. You're going down." It's just, you know, "Put your hands behind your back," and I can't do that. I'm holding her. If I put her down, she's gonna get killed, or run away. I remember the officers trying to kick my feet out from underneath me.  I was thinking, too, if I resist being arrested, there's a chance I could get killed. I could be suffocated, I was thinking of George Floyd. I mean, I'm not in the best shape right now. I don't feel really unhealthy, but I'm 51 years old. I don't know what I would do if I was down on the sidewalk with, like, people like sitting on me. 

[...]

So I'm going down on the sidewalk, and I saw a woman in front of me. I yelled at her, like, "Take my dog." [laughs] She's like, "What?" I handed her my dog, and she said, like, "What do I do?" And I yelled, I gave her my address and my apartment number, and she gave me her name, but I couldn't remember it. And at the moment, I was just thinking, "I'm gonna probably never see my dog again," and I was hoping this was the right thing to do. How was Neptune handling all of this? She didn't seem too jostled or frightened or anything. She's a New York dog, so she knows the sounds. But when people were trying to get at me, she was stressed out. I heard her squeal, because she was getting pressed.  I gave that woman the dog, and I knew that she had her. Then I let go. She put her own neck out. It was the most fortunate thing to happen, that she was there at that moment. 

[...]

Then I got home, and then early that morning, there were people that were pinging me, saying, "Omar, your wife is on her way to Queens, and she's gonna pick up the dog." The legal team at One Police Plaza, they connected my wife and the woman who had Neptune over Signal. 

When you take a step back and look at what happened that night, to you and to Neptune and also to other people who were there, has it changed anything about the way that you think about the NYPD?

We's so heavily policed here in New York City. You see police constantly. They're just all around you. I think my overall pedestrian view of the police in New York has been generally, for the most part, you know, if you're law-abiding, you're staying out of trouble, there shouldn't be any cause for alarm or getting beaten up or pushed to the ground.  I think my takeaway was that when these cops came back with the helmets and all the gear that they put on, it definitely kind of transformed them a bit—how I looked at them, how the people reacted, and how they perceived themselves. They weren't just your neighborhood patrol officers who are kind of like, you know, a little schlubby or whatever. This is a paramilitary group willing to push out students.  You never see the police pushing into a right-wing crowd. Here they are, pushing around women, young people, people with drums and signs. I have a fear that this is kind of like another normal, of what people are willing to accept, that police would barricade our colleges. It was a little dystopian.  At the same time, I have really good feelings about the state of youth right now. I have a lot of faith in people, young people. They're highly organized and serious, not just about what their movement is doing, but they got Neptune back—they figured the whole thing out, how to reunite a guy and his dog.

-- From "A New Yorker and His Dog Were Swept Up in the Violent Arrests at the City College Protest" by Esther Wang for Hell Gate, 9 May 2024 1:49 PM EDT

[msweebyness]

Class of Heroes AU: Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

And here it is! The second in my series of songfics, and was this a punch in the feels to write, lemme tell ya! Artzy, this one goes out to you! As always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27! Special thanks to Sparky for helping me with some of the dialogue! Our tale begins just a few months after the tragic deaths of Queen Penny and Queen Alyssa of Arendelle…

A solemn and mournful feeling hung in the air in the palace of Arendelle. The deaths of their beloved queens, just months before, still weighed heavily on the hearts of everyone in the palace.

The servants in the grand hall looked up as four-year-old Prince Kiran darted past them, no doubt heading for his older brother’s bedroom. Hesitantly, they smiled. Perhaps some fun would lift the spirits of both boys.

Stopping outside one of the large windows in the hall, Kiran gasped excitedly when he saw the snow falling from the sky, before racing to his brother’s door.

“Marc?”

Kiran knocked on the door in the special beat he and Marc had come up with as a sort of passcode. Practically bouncing on his heels, he asked…

Do you wanna build a snowman?

Come on, let's go and play!

The large mounds of snow outside were perfect for some winter fun, and Kiran just knew that a day of sledding and snow angels would cheer the both of them up.

I never see you anymore

Come out the door!

It's like you've gone away…

With a sad expression suddenly overtaking his features, Kiran slumped downward, sitting with his back against the door.

We used to be best buddies

And now we're not.

I wish you would tell me why!

It had been over a month since he and Marc had last played together, and Kiran missed his brother terribly. Why wouldn’t Marc come out of his room? Had Kiran done something wrong?

Do you wanna build a snowman?

It doesn't have to be a snowman...

Kiran pressed his eye up to the keyhole, trying to see what his brother was up to in there.

“N-Not now, Kiran.”, came Marc’s quiet and hesitant reply. The younger prince slumped sadly and turned to walk away from the door.

“Okay, bye...”

Sitting, looking out over the kingdom, that evening, the elder prince of Arendelle jumped back in fright as his windowsill was suddenly coated in a thick layer of ice under his hands.

Alarmed, Marc called for Su-Han, the chief Royal Advisor, who came in bearing a solemn expression. He opened an ornate wooden box, revealing it to contain a pair of dark gloves made of a thick fabric the boy didn’t recognize.

“Put these gloves on. They will help you to control it.”, he said sternly, and Marc quickly obeyed. To the prince’s relief, the gloves seemed to work to stop his magic.

“Conceal it…”, the old advisor prompted. Marc knew what came next, it was an old rhyme meant to help him withhold his magic.

“Don't feel it.”

“Don’t let it show.”, the two finished together. Su-Han nodded, before his solemn expression turned deadly serious.

“Now, you must NEVER take these off. You could KILL someone with that power if you're not careful.”, he told the young prince coldly. With a frightened expression, Marc nodded.

“O-ok. I promise.”

Two years passed since that night, and young Prince Kiran, now six, was once again racing to his brother’s room! Maybe Marc would come out to play today. They had been sharing meals together as of late, after all! Sure, he sat at one of the long table and Marc at the other, and they didn’t really talk, but it was something!

Kiran knocked the cheerful beat of their secret code in Marc’s door, before he asked the question he did about every two days or so.

Do you wanna build a snowman?

Or ride our bike around the halls?

I think some company is overdue

I've started talking to the pictures on the walls!

Kiran was honestly starting to go mad with no one to play with! So he hoped with all his heart that this would be the day Marc would say yes!

It gets a little lonely

All these empty rooms

The servants all just went about their business, mostly keeping to themselves, leaving Kiran to wander the halls of the enormous palace with nothing much to do but stare at the time passing.

Just watching the hours tick by...

The young prince flopped down in front of the large grandfather clock in one of the various sitting rooms of the palace, making ticking sounds with his tongue against his teeth.

Meanwhile….

Sitting on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by jagged ice stalagmites, tears running down his cold cheeks, was Prince Marc. Looking up, he met the angry, cold and disapproving gaze of Su-Han.

“I-I didn't mean to do it...it-it's getting stronger, no matter what I do...”, Marc stammered out, the icy spires growing larger as he curled in on himself.

“Getting upset makes it worse. Calm down, now.”, the elder man said sternly, making a motion to grab the prince, who jumped back in panic.

“NO! Don't touch me! I don't wanna hurt you!”, he cried, as he took tentative steps back toward the wall. Su-Han shook his head with a look of disappointment.

“You'll only ever hurt people if you don't learn to control yourself and your emotions. THIS is why you can't see your brother. Why the people of the kingdom can't know what you are.”

Trembling, Marc looked at the man, pleading for any answers he could give.

“Wh-what can I do? How do I fix this?”

His expression turning solemn as stone once again, Su-Han answered:

“You must learn to keep your power sealed away inside you at all times, and at any cost. You must master discipline and control, and until you do that, you MUST remain isolated. With this magic of yours, it's simply too dangerous.”

Marc looked at the man in utter despair. At this rate, he would spend the rest of his life alone in this room! And Kiran…

“Just... let Kiran keep seeing me for meals, please? I'lI wear the gloves. I'll stay far away, I won’t even speak. Please, I…I just need to know he's ok!”, Marc pleaded, feeling his spirit start to break once more.

“Once I see proof of you improving, we'll discuss it.”

Another two years passed, and a letter arrived at the palace of Arendelle. The elder prince had been invited to attend the prestigious Francois Preparatory Academy! He would be leaving in only a day’s time. Eight-year-old Prince Kiran now walked solemnly down the hall, having just spoken with Advisor Su-Han.

“There is something…very wrong with your brother. He is going away to get it fixed.”

And so Kiran found himself, yet again, in front of Marc’s door, giving three solemn knocks, unable to even muster their special code.

Marc, please I know you're in there

People are asking where you've been…

Gossip was spreading through the kingdom about the reclusive elder prince. Kiran didn’t believe any of the ridiculous stories the village folk came up with, but he longed to know what was actually going on with his brother. What was this “terrible illness” that made Marc isolate himself?

They say, "Have courage," and I'm trying to

I'm right out here for you

Just let me in

Kiran wondered if his brother felt the same sadness he did. It had been years since they had a proper conversation. If they could even spend a moment together, perhaps this rift between them could heal. The deaths of their mothers had hit them both so hard, but they still had each other. If only Marc would open this door…

We’ve only had each other

Now, you’re about to leave…

What am I gonna do?

Even if he rarely ever saw Marc nowadays, just the assurance that he was there was one of the few things that got Kiran through each day. Now, he wouldn’t even have that…

Do you wanna build a snowman?

When he received no response from his older brother, Kiran pushed himself to his feet and walked down the hall to his own room, tears slipping from his silvery eyes.

On the other side of the heavy oaken door, Prince Marc stood with head against the ice-coated wood, tears of his own sliding down his frigid cheeks.

Kiran, I know you're out there…

I hear you every day

Four long years, he had listened to his brother, asking him to spend some time together, his heart breaking a little more with each time he had to refuse. He missed Kiran more than anything.

I want to tell you everything, I really wish…

That I could say…

As far as Kiran knew, Marc had a terrible sickness that required him to stay away from everyone, for their own safety. He longed more than anything to tell him the truth, to let him know that the last thing he wanted was to push his little brother away like this.

I want to be beside you! To help you through…

If only he could just have a moment with his brother, he would give him a hug and tell him that everything was going to be alright. But Su-Han would never allow that, and perhaps he was right in feeling that way. Marc never forgot the…accident for a moment.

Believe me I need you too…

I want to build a snowman…

Marc sank down to sit with his back to the door, burying his head in his knees as a fresh swell of tears overtook him, the ice around him spreading even further.

‘Goodbye, Kiran. I promise I’ll come back better for you…’

I’m not crying, YOU’RE CRYING! Anyway, there it was folks! LMK what you thought in comments and reblogs! Oh, FYI, Marc’s part is Elsa’s Reply by Elsie Lovelock on YouTube!

Link: https://youtu.be/MutnK1UbdRk

Coming up next in this series is Zero to Hero! Keep and eye out! Love and hugs!

[mutifandomlover]

Prompt(Victory).

This prompt is by @zazuprompts.

Title:Bittersweet Victory.

"Congratulations, students."

The speakers rang throughout the old school building. We all looked up at them in the cafeteria to see what the announcement was.

"If you've managed to last all seven days in our little game of 'Killing School Life,' then please report to the gymnasium at this time."

One by one, we limped over to the gymnasium. I felt relief, but at the same time, I felt dread. We might finally be done with this twisted game that we've been forced to play with each other, or maybe it was our captor making us play one final game to perfect their twisted vision. Whatever it was, I wasn't ready for it.

Walking into the gymnasium, I'm faced with my classmates, well, the ones that are still alive anyway. We all looked at each other with dull, traumatized eyes. Seven days in hell in this place. A place with little to no food and water to last the game. Dirty bathrooms with disgusting water. Broken furniture and messy beds. Not to mention, the place is small and practically falling apart. Seven days in an abandoned school. Seven days being forced to survive against each other.

I don't know how I survived. In fact, I expected someone to kill me at some point, but somehow, I managed to live through it all.

"Hello."

The black and white bear with his large grin and red eye waved at us in his sick, insane demeanor.

"I'm glad to see you all here."

"As you all know, the game has officially ended, and I'm happy to announce that you all will be graduating from Hope's Peak Academy."

He got off the stage and handed everyone a cap and gown. The tassels were black and white. The little number in pink read '2010.' He really was making us go through a graduation ceremony.

"Great, now that everyone has their cap and gown, go get dressed in the locker rooms and meet back up in the gymnasium for the graduation ceremony."

I felt a pit in my stomach as we went to the locker rooms. I put on my cap and gown. I could feel myself burning with hate and regret. This shouldn't have happened. Why did we have to play this sick game just to graduate? One of my remaining classmates put their hand on my shoulder.

"Makoto, you alright?"

I pushed my feelings of hate and regret away before turning around to face Byakuya and Leon.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Let's get this done and over with."

We walked out of the boys' locker room and met up with the girls. Toko was trying to comfort Aoi and Kyoko, who seemed to also have a pit of regret and self hate in their stomachs. I wouldn't be surprised if we all were going through that same feeling at this very moment.

After a few minutes of standing around awkwardly. We all headed back into the gymnasium. There were six seats, and they were all labeled with our names.

"Find your seat, everyone, we'll get started in just a moment."

We all find our seats. He had us sat in alphabetical order by first name. It was a little strange, but that didn't really matter to me. We sat down, and the bear placed what looked like diplomas on the lectern. He began with an opening speech. I didn't think it was necessary. After all, there’s only six of us here.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the graduation of the students from class 2010."

"These students not only passed high school but also survived the game of life."

The game of life, it was more like kill or br killed. I bit my tongue and held my composure. The last thing that we needed was a rage fit. I wanted to strangle that robotic bear, but I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I felt one of my classmates put their hand on my shoulder. I gave them a weak smile as Monokuma continued talking.

"When I call your name, please stand up and come up to the stage to receive your diploma."

"Aoi Asahina."

"Byakuya Togami."

As he called our names, I found myself reflecting on the last three years of my school life. I remembered our first day when we all met and how young we were. I remembered all the fun times we had while in and out of class. There were times when we got in trouble for doing some dumb things. There were also times when we celebrated our accomplishments, like when we passed our first midterm and we all went to eat at a diner that we all liked. It felt great to be with them, but I wished that they were still here with us.

"Kyoko Kirigirl."

"Leon Kuwata."

If only we weren't placed into this old school just to play a twisted game of survival. I tried to keep my hands clean and cooperate with everyone. We all tried to work together, but in the end, some if not all of us had blood on our hands. Some of us paid for it while others were relieved of the burden of trying to survive, and the ones who managed to stay alive, us, we get to leave this hell hole.

"Makoto Naegi."

"Toko Fukawa."

I stood up and walked up the stage with Toko following behind. Monokuma gave me my diploma, and I shook his paw. We stood in a line together, and for a moment, I could see all of our classmates. They were smiling at us and cheering us on. Yet it was only for a moment, and in that moment, it felt like nothing changed.

"Congratulations, students, you have achieved victory in the game of life or death!"

We all held hands and gave each other a small smile, which was followed by tears and hugging each other. It was over. Our time in this hell was finally over.

"Now that the ceremony has come to a close, you guys will change out of your cap and gown and head to your dorm rooms to pack your things."

"When you're done, meet at the end of the dormitory hallway, and we'll head to the exit so that you all can leave and live your life."

We went back to the locker rooms to take off our cap and gown before grabbing the clothes Monokuma left for us and headed to our dorms. We all took showers with clean water for the first time in a week. Yes, it was a little cold, but it was nice to finally take a shower with clean water. I changed into my new outfit. It was nice to finally be out of my school uniform but also a little weird since I've grown attached to it. I packed up my things in the backpack that Monokuma left in my dorm. There wasn't much, just my cap and gown, my diploma, my school uniform, and the photo album of my class throughout our three years of high school. This photo album was my keepsake since the most valuable thing to me was my memories with my friends. I walked out of my dorm room for the last time and met up with the others. We walked together to the end of the hall where Monokuma was waiting for us, and he handed us a photo of us in our caps and gowns. They must've taken the picture before we turned into an emotional mess. We followed him to the giant steel doors, and he opened them.

We found ourselves being amazed by the blue sky and the burning sun. It felt wonderful to feel the sun against my skin. I thought about all of our friends who would never see the sky again. Yasuhiro, Sayaka, Chihiro, Mondo, Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Celeste, Sakura, Mukuro, and Junko. Our friends would never find out what happened to their families. Those who died early on would have no clue as to who lived and who died.

"Look, it's them!"

"Congratulations on your victory!"

My train of thought was interrupted by a group of people that surrounded us at the door. Were they here the whole time? People were cheering, clapping, and holding signs. Some whistled and even stomped their feet. There were photographs and even a news station at the end of a red carpet. The reporter gave us a big smile, and she beckoned for us to come to her. We all looked at each other before walking down the red carpet in pairs. Aoi was with Leon, I was with Kyoko, and Toko was with Byakuya. People's cheers continued as we walked through the path laid out for us. The reporter was facing the cameraman as she began talking.

"We're here at the live set of Tsumibito Academy from the new hit series, Danganronpa:Distrust."

"The final episode, Graduation Day, has finished production, and the lucky survivors of season one have just exited the building."

"So tell us, Mr. Naegi, how does it feel to have such an outstanding victory?"

Was it all a reality show? The world sat down to watch me and my classmates kill each other as entertainment? Were our families watching the show? Why were we put into this? I don't remember ever signing up for anything like this, and I don't think any of us remember being the main cast of a reality show. Before I knew it, however, I already told them my answer.

"It was certainly a strange experience."

"If you were given the chance, would you join Danganronpa for another season?"

"No, this was a crazy experience for me, and it's definitely not something for anyone with a timid mindset to go into."

"Make way, we have a ride for the winners of Danganronpa."

"Paid for by the company themselves."

We looked at the limousine that pulled up. We piled inside and sat down in the luxurious car. I pulled the photo album out from my backpack, and we began to look at the different photos of us throughout high school. I found myself smiling despite all that had happened. We survived, and it's a victory for us. A bittersweet one but a victory nonetheless. Leon was pouring a bottle of sparkling cider into cups for everyone.

"Come on, we gotta celebrate right?"

"I really hope that this ride isn't a trap."

"I'm sure we'll be fine."

I picked up my glass and made a toast.

"To our friends that we'll never forget and to the future we'll make."

"To the future we'll make!"

We clinked our glasses together and I took a slip. It felt like everything was going to be fine. Everything is going to turn out fine, right? There's no way we're going to get dragged into something dangerous, right?

I finished my glass of sparkling cider, and I began to drift off, resting my head on the seat. My vision blurred as my eyes closed, and I drifted off completely into my mind.

"Makoto!"

"Makoto!"

"MAKOTO!"

"Huh?"

"Leon?"

I was shaken awake by Leon. He had a panicked look in his eyes, and we were no longer in the limousine.

"Gnh!"

I gripped my waist, and I felt a sharp stabbing ache in my hip. I looked down to see a shard of glass sticking out of my hip.

"Hold still."

Leon managed to pull the glass shard out of my hip. He grabbed the scarf in his pocket and wrapped it around my waist.

"What happened?"

"Everyone passed out after we drank the cider in the limousine."

"A little while later, I regained consciousness, and the first thing I saw was the limousine heading straight for a tree."

"I tried to wake everyone up, but the only person that woke up was Kyoko."

"The limousine crashed but we managed to get the door open."

I looked at the busted up limousine. The door was open, but I didn't see the others.

"So, what happened to the others?"

"They're behind me."

"Kyoko is mostly okay. Save for her hand."

"Toko is injured in her leg and so is Aoi."

"And Byakuya has some bruises on his head."

"You were the last person to wake up."

"Oh..."

"What do you we do now?"

"I don't know."

Leon helped me up and got me to the others. Everyone else had injuries that were wrapped in jackets and paper towels from the limousine. We all were in shock. The limousine had crashed, and we almost died. As we were debating what to do, a truck and two cars pulled up behind us.

"Hey!"

Leon stood up and ran to the man driving the car.

"Excuse me, my friends and I were in a car crash."

"We're not sure how it happened, but I and one other person managed to get everyone else out."

"We need medical assistance so please, help us..."

The man stepped out of the car with a gun in his hands. Leon backed up to where we were and fell backwards.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like this guys."

"It's a trap, I knew it was a trap!"

The man spoke into a radio in his shirt pocket.

"We found them."

"The sedatives wore off just before the car crashed, as planned."

"Yes, they're injured, but they seemed to have stopped their wounds from bleeding out, we'll check them in with the medical staff when we get there."

"Alright, I understand."

He stopped talking and then faced us.

"All of you, get into this truck and don't try to run away."

Leon and Kyoko got all of us inside of the truck before hopping in with us. The truck door slammed shut. Thankfully, there were air holes in the truck so that we could breathe. A few hours, maybe more, and we finally made it to where they were taking us. The first people to greet us when the truck door opened was a set of nurses who helped us out of the vehicle and took us to different operating rooms where they examined our wounds and patched them up. We were all put into hospital robes and taken to a room for recovery. After a few days, someone came in to talk to me.

"Good morning Mr. Naegi."

"Good morning."

"How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, my hip no longer hurts."

"That's good to know."

The man opened a folder with my name on it and showed me a contract that I needed to sign.

"What is this?"

"A contract that we need you to sign."

"Um can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Are you the people behind Danganronpa?"

"Yes."

"So, Monokuma, the bear robot, mentioned that we would get to go home after we finished the killing game, so why are we here?"

"Oh, well, this is your temporary home for the time being while your on the show."

"It is?"

"Yep."

The man pushed the contract towards me. I read it over a few times. It was basically telling me that I would spend my time here working on the show as a member of the cast until I wasn't needed anymore. The only issue is that it didn't say when I would get to go back home.

"Um, can I just go home instead?"

"There is nowhere for you to go, so it's best to stay here."

"Did the others sign this?"

"Yes."

I sighed in defeat and signed my name on the dotted line. The man smiled and left the room. A nurse came in and got me my clothes. I changed back into my outfit and followed her to the living quarters for the cast. The lady then handed me my stuff from the limousine, and I sat down with the others.

"I can't believe we're stuck here."

"So, how are we going to get out of this?"

"I don't think we can. They have eyes everywhere."

"Yeah, we all saw the cameras and guards constantly patrolling the building."

"We can't really do anything right now other than listen."

"At least the place looks nicer than Hope's Peak Academy."

"True, it does."

We walked to our rooms, and I sat down on the bed. I couldn't believe it. We were trapped somewhere again. I kept pondering on the future and what would happen to us. I just wanted to go home. I didn't want to be here at all. Maybe things will get better. I hope it all ends well. I really hope all of this ends well.

[always-andromeda]

– 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭・2,792

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲・Identifying with people has never been Hank's strong suit. But fictionalizing them can help, until one day, it doesn't. Perhaps, this is the push Hank needs to begin to build something new; something that doesn't have to be fiction.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞・this fic is dedicated entirely to @starshapedstickerss!! today is this lovely soul's birthday and I wanted to write a special little something just for her to commemorate the occasion!! the title of this fic is based on the song starflower by raveena. it's one of my favorite songs to listen to when I need comfort and it absolutely reminds me of you, my wonderful star. happy birthday, my friend!! hope you enjoy the fic and have a fantastic birthday!! ☺️

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・basically none? vague mentions of romance but this is mostly a sweet little meet-cute with bits of angst and fluff sprinkled throughout!

Routine is the killer of all good things. At least that's what Hank tells himself. That's how he hopes that his habit will go away. He hates calling it that, actually. It makes him feel like a voyeur. A strange man sitting in the park. At least a dozen derogatory descriptors and comparisons float through his mind. Hank would rather call himself a watcher. Or perhaps, a documentarian. What exactly is he documenting? He can never be quite sure, the fixation changes fairly often.

Except for this once.

The park is a good place to people watch. He can keep his head down for a while, earbuds plugged into his phone; playing the soundtrack to his own internal nature program. Here, we have children playing with their parents. See how the adult human lifts its young into the air, twirling it around and listening to it squeal in delight. Research has shown that these activities bring a rush of chemicals like serotonin and dopamine, resulting in an immense feeling of happiness. 

Only half reading the novel in his lap, Hank takes note of each little interaction he bears witness to. He doesn't quite realize it's happening, but as he skims the novel, he finds himself placing the faces of the strangers he sees into the shoes of each character. For some reason, it's easier for him to sort each of them out that way; easier for him to identify with them.

Suddenly, he sees the kindly old man who owns a deli in the novel having the same hooked nose and well groomed mustache as the man selling balloons for children beside the park's water fountain. The woman who hosts weekly story times for the children on the lawn turns into the fictional landlady who constantly hounds the main character about when rent is due. And the main character...

Well, the main character is you. 

He hadn't meant for it to happen, really. Hank had managed to keep the main character faceless. They simply waltzed through the fictional land on the page, shifting the world around them and making their own way. No one that he'd seen in all his days at the park had given him that same feeling.

Not until you walked across the grass a few feet away from him, traveling in a straight and sure line until you got to the ducks beside the pond. There you sat with your back turned to him, gazing out over the water and throwing seeds for the ducks to consume. You completed the little mission like it was vital to your existence and chuckled each time a duck came to feed on seeds directly from your palm. Everything else quickly melted away as soon as you came along. Everyone else was merely your supporting cast of characters, the park a setting for your trials and tribulations.

The way you walked with a certainty in your steps entranced him. The way your coat fluttered with the wind with a flair to it. But, at the same time, Hank never thought you'd let that stance fill you with cockiness. At least he hoped so. Judging by the act of feeding the ducks, Hank determined that you're kind; a balance between something valiant and benevolent.

After the first time, Hank didn't think he'd see you again. Nonetheless, you'd left your mark on him. It was easy to picture you as the determined main character of his novel. It only became easier when you came back. Every Friday afternoon, you graced the park with your presence, returning to feed the ducks. Hank had quickly realized that he'd have a little over an hour or so to observe you until a particularly harsh breath of the chilly afternoon air invaded the atmosphere. It was enough to go through a handful of chapters in his book. The entire way, he’d glance back and forth between the text and you, plucking you from the grass and placing you snugly between the pages of the story. Then you'd pull your jacket up to cover a bit more of your neck. That was the sign that told him you'd be leaving soon; too cold to stick through the weather.

In a way, it's his strange routine. By the end of the month, he'd hoped that he'd get bored of this activity. Someone else would come along and capture his attention. However, though you have no idea of it, you are relentless. 

It was even easier to see a lot of himself in the nervous next-door neighbor who obviously had a crush on the main character. He almost dreaded the moment that romantic subplot became more relevant. Because that was the moment that the naive and nervous neighbor had done something Hank could never scrap together the courage to. He'd actually spoken to the main character. He took a leap of faith and landed perfectly because the author had made it so. Because what kind of story would it be if there wasn't terribly indulgent romance thrown in? What kind of pathetic character would the neighbor be if he didn't overcome his own insecurities to complete a character arc? Then he'd be me, he realized miserably, two dimensional, paper thin, and gone with a gust of wind. Just like you.

Hank should've been ecstatic for the slow burn romance to have tied up its taut threads. Instead, it filled him with spikes of shame, guilt, and anxiety that swirled in his mind as he laid in bed; all of the usual suspects that came with his disconnection with the world. Because no matter how much he tried to understand it, life wasn't a linear plot that he could dissect and decipher. Life is relentless. In some way, you remind him of that; that no matter how much he tries to contain your image in the pages, he'll never be that neighbor. He'll always be the stranger. The voyeur.

With the book now finished and closed, Hank sets it on his nightstand. He stares out the window across from his bed. On the other side of the street below his apartment is that park. And the longer he lies in bed, thinking about the ending of his book, the more he drives himself insane. For a moment, he feels like fiction too; being compelled by some hand to rise out of bed, sliding his slippers on and slipping his arms through each of the sleeves of his flannel bathrobe. 

With barely another thought about the strange look of his choice of evening wear, Hank finds himself riding the elevator down to the lobby of his apartment building and walking straight out the door. With each foot planted firmly on the ground before him, he waltzes directly towards the bench in front of the pond; the place where you usually sit. He settles on the freezing metal and runs a shaking hand through his hair before shoving his hands in the warm pockets of his robe.

Hank watches the still water, only occasionally disturbed by stray ripples. The light from park lamps lining the perimeter dance across the surface, twinkling with each little wave. He's not quite sure what he was expecting. Maybe some fresh air; a new perspective? Maybe if he stared into the water for long enough, he'd find some sort of answer to his problems. Something in his reflection could show him how he was going about this whole endeavor in the exact wrong way the entire time.

But he did something he found himself doing far too often now. He thought about you. Or, perhaps it was the utter lack of you. Both in the park and in his perception. It was strange. There was simultaneously everything and nothing to mourn. He'd turned you into a character. A figment of his imagination. Who knew if you were really brave, kind, and determined like the version Hank had pictured in his head? He sure didn't. All he had was this bench and the water before him. Somewhere deep down, he hopes that you'd sat in his same spot so many times that the bench would have molded itself to you; would have developed some strange sort of muscle memory and replicated the shape of your being to offer him some comfort. But that eludes him too. It fluttered away along with everything else he once believed.

He adjusts his robe around his neck, finally feeling the late night chill so deeply that it makes his fingers stiff like ice. He's close to leaving, seconds away from concluding this lonely chapter with an even lonelier sentence: None of it was real to begin with.

"Oh, would you like me to leave you alone?" came a startled voice, "I can do that if you'd rather be alone." 

Hank whips his head towards the sound. There you are. Shoes planted firmly in the damp grass a few feet away from him, dark rimmed eyes staring expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. A better plot twist than any other one he's read.

"No!" Hank blurts before softening his tone when he notices you jump, "No. You don't have to go. There's room for two." He managed to put on a polite little smile at the end. One that you hesitantly returned, still weary at his slight outburst.

For a few moments, you sit together, shoulders separated by a few inches from each other. Hank spares a sideways glimpse at you and sees you tilting your head back. Quite the opposite from all the times he'd observed you watching the water.

Hank clears his throat and says the first thing that comes to his mind, "Sure is cold out, tonight, huh?" He sounds old, ancient, practically geriatric with such a lame statement.

But you take it in stride and reply, "Yeah, but I don't mind."

With your own hands shoved in your pockets, Hank notices that your jacket is new; heavier and probably better insulated. It's small, but it makes him sniff for some reason.

You turn to look at him. "You look like you're freezing cold," you say with concern.

Hank parrots you, "Yeah, but I don't mind."

You let out a small chuckle. "Touché."

Your eyes squint as you search for the next thing to say. Then, as they adjust more to the darkness, they fill with a glimmer of recognition. "Oh, you're that guy I see around here every week!"

"What?" Hank says in a small voice. This is where he's found out; where he is revealed as the strange, lonely man he is. He is fully expecting the weight of disgust to settle in when your bright tone bursts the bubble of tension surrounding his thoughts.

"Yeah, the guy with the book! You always have your headphones in so I never wanted to bother you. But that book you've been reading, I've always wanted to ask what you thought of it!" you chirp.

"What I...thought of it?"Hank asks slowly. "Why?"

"That sounds weird, doesn't it? I just wondered because I read it ages ago and I've never seen anyone else reading it," you say while twiddling with your fingers, picking with your cuticles the same way he does. You add quickly, "I liked it! Though I think the main character was a little bit of a Mary Sue, ya know? I thought the cute neighbor was pretty interesting though. He probably should've been the focus, his story was way more interesting."

"Oh...I–"

You barely let him get a word out before you're talking again, "I'm so sorry. I'm rambling now and I don't even know if you've finished it yet or not. I just...I just like the idea of talking about it with someone."

Letting the words hang gently in the air, Hank blinks hard. "You don't have to apologize," he assures you. "I've finished it. Just tonight, actually. I've been thinking about it too; the ending."

You make a face. "Oh, I think the ending was just disappointing."

"Why?"

"It was so...unoriginal? The main character barely even acknowledges the neighbor until the absolute last second. And then when they do...you almost start to feel bad for him? He deserves better, ya know? He deserves someone who will actually see him and acknowledge his existence. Not someone who'll settle with him just because it's convenient," you rant, barely taking a breath between sentences like you'd contemplated the ideas for a long time before this point.

Hank chuckles dumbly at the comedic timing of the whole scene. You glance over at him with a flash of worry. "What?"

"Nothing...I was just thinking that..." Hank sniffs and lays his head back, just like you had minutes before. He watches his breath billow out of his nose in faint clouds, watches the way they dissipate into the inky midnight sky. Then he clears his throat and starts again, "I thought that the neighbor was a kind of...pitiful. He spends so long idealizing this person that he's so close to. Yet he can't manage to take that leap. But when he does it's just so hollow. He could've been spending all that time getting to know the main character, but instead he just..." Hank swallows hard. "He worries."

You gaze up at the same sky with him now, breathe the same air, and ruminate on the same thoughts. You speak again, "Then maybe they're both flawed. Maybe they both have their own things to sort out. Maybe the story continues after the last page and we just don't get to see it. Maybe that's just for them to figure out for themselves."

At the same time you both look towards each other. And in that moment, he can truly see you while you see him. And he smiles.

"Maybe," he replies then snorts, "But then again, they're not real. Can't be much of a life if there's no one around to read it."

"It doesn't mean no one would want to read it. It just means it hasn't been written yet."

Hank can't think of anything to top that. So he rolls the dice once more and asks the first thing that rolls onto the front burner of his mind, "What are you doing out here tonight anyways? It's almost midnight."

You gasp, "Oh! Wait a second!" Then you pull a phone out of one of your jacket pockets and quickly check the time on the fluorescent screen. "It's almost midnight," you grin.

"And that's important because...?"

"Once it hits midnight, it'll be my birthday. And I don't know...I thought I'd be able to catch a shooting star. That way I'd get a little birthday wish. That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

Hank shakes his head quickly. "No, not at all. It's, uh...it sounds nice."

About a minute passes where you search the sky. Then you sigh heavily before looking back at him. "Guess I'm not going to get that birthday wish. What a bummer."

The cool air making his nose begin to flush red, Hank sniffles a few times. He averts his gaze, turning it instead to the grass below him. And growing right beside a leg of the bench, he finds the perfect thing. Even in the dark, he can make out the soft, fluffy puffball of the dandelion.

He leans forward gently and plucks it from the ground and presents it to you in his freezing fingers. "Here. Can't you make wishes on these too? Consider it your first birthday present of the day." Hank explains slowly, earnestly.

Your eyes flicker back and forth between his and the gift in his hand. Then, without a second thought, you take it.

For a fraction of a second, your fingers graze his during the interaction. For that split second, Hank feels the dull chill of your skin. You must be equally as freezing as he is by now, yet you haven't left this time. And once again, Hank smiles. It's a little bit bigger this time as he watches you blow on the delicate flower. The tufts float off into the wind, carrying whatever wish you had dreamt up behind your closed eyelids.

Though it's not his place to make a wish, he makes one anyway. It's a small one that he hopes that whatever wish-fulfiller is out there will grant him the mercy of having. He wishes that this feeling of connection won't end. He wishes for a hand that'll keep writing this story, that won't let this moment be the final chapter. Because whatever this is, he wants more of it.

"What did you wish for?" he asks you gently.

You giggle and reply, "Maybe one day I'll let you find out."

[hannahhook7744]

Melody of Atlantica headcanons revamped;

Melody's full name is Melody Athena Athanasiou of Tirulia.

She is Ariel and Eric's daughter.

She has two sisters—a girl named 'Elle' who her parents adopted after hearing the young girl was abandoned after she lost the ability to walk, and a little girl named 'Harmony.'

She is the 3rd oldest grandchild—right behind the two kids Alex (her now ex) was friends with in the movie (who I've named Cordelia and Míngźe).

She advised Arabella, Elle, and all of her godly cousins around the vks' age to be nice to them when she heard they were coming to Auradon.

She is the 2nd oldest Ak, right after Chip and just beat Zephyr in being born.

She is a daddy's girl and often doesn't see eye to eye with her mother, who she loves very much.

She never grows out of the tomboy phase.

She is one of the oldest 'aks'.

She didn't have many friends growing up but clicked with Zephyr, Jane, Jim, and Chip immediately when she met them and became their bestfriend.

She has a puppy named 'Maxie.'

When she was going to Auradon Prep, she got in trouble alot because of her rebellious streak.

She is an environmental activist and a vegetarian.

Melody is a good artist (when it comes to Marine life and sea related things) and a champ at building sea castles.

She loves sunbathing, reading, treasure hunting, urban exploring, sailing, sword fighting, painting, collages, old music, water sports, vintage things, learning languages, and learning about different cultures.

She's bad at dancing.

Melody is dating Zephyr and is still friends with her ex, Alex.

She studied Marine Biology while in college as well as languages—She knows 14 of them. She loves translating for people.

She vandalized Beast's castle as well as the castle and house of everyone who supported the isle several times growing up.

She has bad social anxiety and social skills, leading her to be a bit blunt at times.

She jokingly formed a club called 'The social anxiety club ' in Auradon Prep. It stuck. As did her activitism club.

She dated a pirate wannabe once—Eric and Ariel were not amused. Triton lost it.

Melody has a few tattoos and loves collecting sea shells.

She lives with Zephyr, Chip, Jim, and Jane in a house by the sea with their pets.

She also loves silly bands, slap bracelets, water balloons, and water guns. She has sprayed King Beast in the face with a water gun several times. Along with Mr Deley.

She loves Stargazing and collects sea shells.

She calls Mrs. Potts, Madellaine, and Esmeralda her aunts/aunties, and Phoebus and Quasimodo her uncles.

She is allergic to Coral and jellyfish.

She loves mushrooms and seaweed. She said what she said and she has no regrets.

Her favorite cousin is Hadie with Uma being a close second.

She was ready to throw hands with Mal when she found out what she did to Uma.

She was the first of her family to welcome Uma, her siblings, and her cousin to Auradon without any reservations.

She thinks the magic ban is stupid and has protested it several times.

She is a wild child but well-mannered and friendly.

Her favorite band in Notre Dame is the same as Zephyr's, Noir Désir.

Her favorite band in Auradon is the Sea bears.

She is 24 by d1.

Melody's favorite colors are green, pink, and yellow.

She is very protective of the younger kids in her family—especially Hadie, Edie, Harmony and Elle since they are the youngest of the family.

[maplecornia]

chapter two

m.list | sea of treasure m.list | ateez m.list | playlist

word count :: 2.32K

pairing(s) :: mingi x female!oc | taehyung x female!reader | hyunjin x female!oc | jimin x female!oc | jungkook x female!oc

genre :: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | idol au

summary :: “do promises mean nothing to you?” 

warnings (constantly updated) :: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2025 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language | mentions of rape | childhood trauma | multiple forms of abuse | mentions of blood and injuries | toxic relationships | mentions of alcohol and drugs | r*pe | assault | graphic depictions of all the above

taglist [OPEN] :: @myork | @eunbinism | @soobmint | @jaeyunverse | @hyunjxnxee | @yesv01 | @kpopppy | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @cana | @eridanuswave | @kodzuskook | @gongiz

"I'm sorry, Melody. I have to go."

The slam of the door, the crushing reality of the situation tearing her heart into pieces, the world around her crumbling into something that she can no longer recognize. Voices trying to console her, reassure her, hands reaching out to her and steps stampeding in her mind as they chase after someone already gone. But she cannot feel anything, she cannot see anything, she cannot hear anything. The world has grown dark, cold, and mute, almost as numb and stoic as the heart that barely beats in her chest. 

Those were the last words your sister heard from you before you left her behind. And now, as she stares at the cafés dinged old TV in the corner of the ceiling, a news broadcast covering a protest held in front of the HYBE building, those very same words play ever so loudly on the tracks of her mind. 

Even now, months later, she is still able to remember that night. The way she screamed, begged for you to stay. The way she clung to you, hoping that if you saw how much she needed you, you would pause for a moment and see her. Focus on something outside of the world that you created around yourself. A world she was never enough to exist in. A world that shut everyone out, if only it meant you yourself was preserved. 

But nothing she said, nothing she did was enough to make you stay. Just like before, you broke your promise. She needed you, and you walked away. Was it that easy? 

To leave her behind?

At the harsh clatter of metal against metal, Melody flinches, her gaze turning from the television to a young woman who raises her brow as she settles into her seat, dispersing the large array of food and drink off the tray she just retrieved from the front counter. Melody can't help but roll her eyes at the look, rubbing her temple as she presses her body up against the back of her chair. 

"Was that really necessary?" 

"I thought so," Kallista smirks as she holds out a coffee cup Melody's way. Melody sighs before reaching out and retrieving the cup from her, and blowing on it softly. 

Kallista is her sister's best friend. Or rather, that's what her title used to be before Yen left and shut out everyone she ever knew or somewhat trusted. Now, Melody is not sure what she is. Perhaps some would say she’s her caretaker, a fill-in guardian in her sister’s absence, but Melody would deny it with all her being. Kallista would say the two of them are friends, and Melody supposes there’s some truth in that, but she herself considers their relationship to be nothing more than roommates. Acquaintances who found themselves in the same predicament when their one commonality abandoned them. 

Kallista and Melody couldn't be any less alike. 

Kallista is far too loud, too energetic, too outspoken, and unabashed to be anything but dissimilar. When she walks into a room, everyone finds their eyes drawn towards her. When she speaks, people want to listen and hear what she has to say. She is smart and beautiful, she knows when to be quiet and when to speak up for herself, and she is never afraid. Or rather, if she is, she never shows it. She is someone that people find themselves drawn to like moths to a flame. 

It is something Melody has always envied.

Something she first saw in her sister. 

Perhaps that is why Melody is now wary of her best friend. A person who is so similar to Yen that she would call her her twin flame, her soulmate, someone she was always destined to meet. Perhaps Kallista is too much like her sister, that Melody cannot bring herself to allow her too close. 

After all, then it'd be all too easy for her to leave as well. 

"How long are you gonna stare at that thing anyway?"

At her words, Melody blinks, not realizing her gaze has drawn itself to the television screen once more, where the newscast is now covering the week's weather. Clearing her throat, she feigns innocence as she looks back to Kallista's obsidian eyes, shrugging innocently. 

"As long as it takes."

Kallista narrows her eyes, as Melody tries and fails to ignore her persistent stare. Choosing instead to focus on the long, drawn-out sip she takes of her coffee. 

"I don't think I like you going to therapy."

She's lucky Melody had already swallowed the liquid in her throat, for once Kallista says those words, she bursts out laughing at the absurdity. Kallista frowns at the jubilation, folding her arms when Melody reaches for a few napkins to clean up the sloshed coffee that spilled all over her hands in her surprise. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Just means that you act all weird after your sessions." Kallista huffs, glancing toward the television. "What do you even talk about in there?"

Melody's smile fades almost as soon as it appeared, the question bringing back the memory of that night once more. The dark look in her sister's eyes as she packed her things, the shouts and unforgivable words exchanged between the two of them, the cold, numb feeling growing more prevalent and chilling with each passing moment spent drew her closer and closer to the isolation she dreaded. 

Taking a deep breath, Melody shrugs. 

"Nothing much, just life and stuff...Is that my donut?" 

Kallista watches closely as Melody reaches for the delectable pastry. Something tells her that session was more than simply "life and stuff" but she also knows there is hardly a chance that Melody would open up to her about it. The only person she was ever willing to talk to was her sister, but ever since she left...

"So…it wasn't about the BigHit offer?"

Melody doesn't look at Kallista when she answers, her voice soft and quiet, almost indiscernible. 

"I thought I told you I didn't want to talk about that." 

"And I thought I told you I didn't care." 

It would be a lie to say that Kallista didn't care about Melody. Perhaps it is not quite to the same point as her family, or even her own friends, but from the first moment Melody showed up on their doorstep, and Yen let her know she would be staying with them, Kallista has felt a certain paternal care towards the young girl. 

She still remembers the way she looked back then, the bruises on her skin, the screams from the nightmares that plagued her deep into the night, her fragile body, so thin that it seemed the very wind would break her. Yen never told her what happened to her, never gave her any details about her past before their mother sent her to live with them, but she didn't need to. Kallista didn't need to be told to take care of her, she didn't need ample instruction to watch out for her when Yen had to leave.

In fact, she was glad to do it. 

Kallista knew that this wasn't her sister, that she didn't have to bear that burden, but to her, there wasn't a difference. Yen's sister, her sister, it was all the same because that little girl that showed up on their doorstep was just as much her responsibility as Yen's. And if that was her responsibility, then she would bear it. She would bear anything to make sure her younger sister wouldn't feel that pain ever again. 

"Melody."

"I'm not going." 

"You can't just--"

"Yes, I can."

Kallista sighs, rubbing her temple at her obstinance. This is a conversation they have had many times, ever since Melody received the first call from that company. A call that left her silent and paralyzed for hours before Kallista could get a response out of her, much less an explanation. 

It always ends the same way. 

Melody refusing to talk about it, and Kallista pushing for an answer until they are met at a standstill. Melody glaring at Kallista, and Kallista rubbing her temple in her frustration. 

Almost like clockwork, with the accuracy in which the events occur. 

"I understand that it's hard, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you can't just throw it away." Kallista finally speaks, trying her best to choose her words carefully, to keep her voice level and calm. 

An action that only irritates Melody further. 

"I'm not throwing anything away, because it never belonged to me in the first place." Melody can spot the frustration hidden behind Kallista's calm exterior, she can sense that she wants to say so much more than she does in actuality. A part of her wishes that she does, that for once she can be real with her, instead of treating her like a child. 

Another part, a bigger part, is grateful for the restraint.

She's grateful she cannot read her like a book, as though her life were some manual she needed to learn to understand herself and her choices. She is grateful some days for the careful way Kallista speaks to her about certain things, grateful that with her she does not have to be wary of revealing too much, for if it's clear she is uncomfortable Kallista will not push her. She will let it go, she will move on and respect her boundaries. 

It is something that differentiates her from Yen, something that makes her her own person.

"And no, you don't." 

"What?"

Or perhaps it is just another reminder that her sister is not here by her side. 

"You don't understand." Kallista's brow furrows at the sentence as she tries to read the expression she sees on Melody's face. The same expression she saw that night when Yen left them behind. Where her eyes glaze over and she disappears deep into her memory, a place where Kallista cannot follow. "You couldn't possibly understand, after all, how could you? When I don't understand half of it myself?" 

Melody takes a shaky breath before she raises her eyes to Kallista's, but instead finds them locked on another. Someone that she had thought she left behind in her past, someone who she had convinced herself would only ever exist in her nightmares, and yet she is here. Sitting a few tables away from the pair of them, her face bright as she laughs, a laugh that sends chills down Melody's spine, for she remembers what that laugh meant back then. She remembers what that laugh inflicted on her mind and body when she found herself at her weakest. 

"Melody, are you alright?" 

Melody flinches when Kallista's hand brushes against hers, breathing heavily as she holds her hand tight to her chest, her eyes wide and filled to the brim with fear. Kallista looks over her shoulder and tries to find whatever affected Melody in this way. 

"I'm fine," At her words, Kallista misses the moment when the girl glances their way as she turns back to Melody. For the first time, Melody is thankful for Kallista's height, as it is just enough to shield her from her perpetrator's stare, allowing her to escape her notice, at least for now. "Let's just go." 

"But I'm not--"

"Please, Kallista." 

At the request, and the look in Melody's eyes, Kallista knows she cannot refuse. And so she nods, setting down her croissant and beginning to collect her things. 

"Alright, alright. I'll meet you outside." 

Melody almost immediately stands, as the world around her has already started to fade in and out of reality. Closing in around her as though trapping her in a box where she is forced to remember the horror of those days long past. Where their faces pass across her vision, and she finds herself at their mercy all over again. 

It is a feat enough for her to even stand, what with the dizziness of her mind as she stumbles her way past a group of customers who have just entered, just so she can escape the suffocation and be able to breathe again. 

So when her shoulder bumps against one of the men who has just entered, and she sees his face, can you blame her for thinking that he is not real? Can you blame her for mumbling a feeble apology before she pushes past him and out the door? 

For the Mingi she knows, the Mingi she remembers from that dreadful past, could not be here. He could not have found her so easily amongst this city full of millions of other people, other cafes, other locations, besides the one where she finds herself here and now. For she left him behind long ago. Back in the heavily crafted fabrics of her own mind, never to be seen or stumbled upon again. And so she believes him to be stuck there. She believes him to be nothing but an illusion she has created in her damaged state. 

And yet...

It is Mingi whom she leaves behind. It is he who stares after her in a perplexed stupor, the places where she held onto him, tingling in a familiar sensation of something he thought he had once lost. Is it he who finds a trace of someone he used to know in the scent she left behind. 

And yet...

Just as quickly as he has crossed her path, he steps away from it. He leaves her behind, putting the thought of her out of his mind. For it is probably nothing more than a sense of deja vu, for she is probably nothing more than a stranger who accidentally bumped into him, nothing more than a strange coincidence. For she could not be the person he remembers, she could not be the one he has longed to see after all these years, this time spent apart. 

And so for now, they put each other back into the folds of their mind. For now, it will be as it is, nothing more than a fleeting moment that will soon pass. 

For now, they will forget.

CH.03 coming soon