#and it just made me laugh because it's so reminiscent of trained behavior of point and click mystery addicts

[hongtiddiez]

my stand in ep 2 thoughts, feelings, etc.

alright i wanted to write this up nicely but it took me... two hours to get through the episode bc i kept stopping to write notes, so i'll do my best i guess.

weird thing about me is when i watch shows and write notes for these posts i always write the notes on napkins? i have like 5 different notebooks in arms reach at all times but i really like scribbling on a napkin for the true unhinged effect.

anyway blah blah reminder i'm just a silly dude on the internet, idk shit about dick, i just like to say shit, don't take me too seriously.

also please DO NOT leave novel spoilers in my reblogs, tags, or replies without some kind of warning label. please? it seems to happen with every show i write meta for and i LOVE that people get hyped but there's no way for me to avoid it when it's in my notifications like that.

some before the actual episode stuff; after learning last week that some of the kinnporsche people worked on this it really becomes apparent, especially in the style of the intro.

the music choices also seem a bit reminiscent of kinnporsche (and a little bit of not me) which i really enjoy. it feels kind of familiar and comforting.

immediately i loved how soft this episode started, the slight stubble on each of them, the way joe speaks so softly as if afraid to shatter their little bubble of peace, etc. i also love that the show doesn't skirt around the topic of sex and the fact that sometimes sex is awkward and clumsy, especially with a new partner and doubly so when it's your first queer partner.

and then the peace was shattered with ming kissing his back yet again. ouchies.

"will tong be at the set?" he's just not even trying to hide it. he basically said 'yeah ur great and all but tong????' but DAMN if poom isn't the absolute king of microexpressions.

at this point i can't really tell if tong is being a spoiled prince (derogatory) or if he's tired of acting in general? judgement withheld until a later date.

and then we jump into this actress being a parallel to ming and OOF OUCHIES MY ORGANS. she's a fan of tong but has to "settle" for joe - just like ming. and yet joe takes the time to be kind, to soothe her worries and put her at ease, because he has a heart of absolute gold. "it's her first movie but she was left to drown by the male lead." it's ming's first love and he has been left to drown in it.

mek's acting is really endearing. this is my first exposure to him (ive seen some of his social media and really like what he stands for as a person) and i'm instantly drawn to his performance. he also pulls off a great balance of adorable/sexy.

OOH THE SHOW SAID BISEXUAL OUT LOUD. A WIN FOR THE BI'S WE LOVE TO SEE IT.

i personally find ming's jealously hilarious. what a little caricature of toxicity.

anyway, it seems to me that if ming could get over his feelings and enjoy what he has in front of him he could be part of and enjoy a very sweet family, as it does seem tong IS giving him love, just not the exact flavor he craves.

the cut to joe's training made me laugh. little oat lore dump but my bio dad was actually a stunt man for movies (which is another part of why i was so excited for this show) and i can promise you nothing like this was part of it. what do i know, though, maybe things have changed since the early 2000s lol.

(no, they're probably not any movies you know, aside from maybe wild wild west [1999]. he mostly did westerns, historical docudramas, and historical fiction.)

ANYWAY AGAIN. with this little glimpse into ming's home life we get to see that he's very accustomed to doing what he wants and getting what he wants, which makes a lot of sense when applied to his almost obsessive behavior regarding tong - and now joe. i did absolutely LOVE linin and her sassy independence (minus the 'i can buy anything i need'.)

but... girl... did you just spray perfume in your mouth?

your actions are strange and unsettling. i like that in a woman.

ugh getting into ming venting his frustrations on joe's body. listen. liiiisten. while toxic without prior discussion... i'm into it. it may or may not be one of my favorite tropes in fanfic. toxic and unhealthy as fuck and i'm here for it.

AND THEN DAMN POOM THOSE NOISES. ACTING FOR YOUR LIFE BBY -- and the SNEEZE AT ORGASM LMAAAO oh i hope that's a running bit for some comedic relief.

because we then make a SHARP pivot into "then stop me" and there's so much potential for pain and self loathing there, for joe to think "i can't blame ming, i didn't stop any of it." i'm sat.

a little side bar, but i'm enjoying the fact that while there is discussion of topping and bottoming as a narrative device there really aren't any stereotypes here. i think on a surface level people would think "oh joe is the top" (pit babe style) and the show said no actually he isn't. love that for us.

"you can even move in haha jk" but the thing is, not jk, because joe would do that for ming - for anyone - bc that's the type of person he is.

[i had to stop and have a lil snack here]

hold up is this wut out drinking with them? OH SHIT IT IS. OKAY. it didn't give us much but at least it's a little connection to him finally. we knew joe knew him from his first life, just didn't really know how.

"i missed you" and when was the last time someone missed joe? not who he's replacing or the space he's filling, but HIM?

love ming's goofy ass locking the door and going inside just so he can make a dramatic ass appearance like he's 'the other woman' or some shit LMAO.

"what's in you to make me jealous?" quite possibly the worst dialogue tree choice ming could've picked.

[joe's emotional well being -45]

[everyone hated that]

"don't be so full of yourself" something joe has never been a day in his life. "you're just a stand-in." he knows. it's not something he ever forgets.

but after all that toxicity we have ming back home, seeking out joe's food for comfort, and we finally get to see him interact with his sister. i LOVE that she knows the importance of being a little silly as a treat, one of my biggest life mottos. we also get to see more of how ming is surrounded by love that he misses out on bc of his own wallowing and self sabotage.

oh, the homoeroticism of sparring with your bestie.

[everyone liked that]

oop- joe is wearing the shirt ming borrowed while sol is wearing a shirt with the word 'fantasy.' i'm good, i'm fine, gwenchana, gwenchana.

ough. sol with too many eyes on him and none of them sincere and joe with nothing but sincerity to offer but remains invisible. oof ouch.

enter ming with more religious imagery to match last week's cross scene. something something the sin of greed? confessing your sins? coveting - idk man, i don't have any religious trauma, my family let me just do my own thing.

but with ming knowing joe's true feeling every toxic thing he does is going to be 1000x more painful and i'm here for it. bring it you fucked up little guy.

"we can't mess with each other's privacy" don't mess with MY privacy. "you can't mess around with anyone else" emphasis on YOU, not we.

and then it's driven home what a romantic joe is, both with his workout heartbreak poetry and this little lady and the tramp noodle moment. this man, again much like pit babe, wants to be domesticated so bad.

and i know we all have hated on ming, that's the point, he's been a caricature of a toxic relationship spelled out in neon letters --

but when was the last time ming laughed with someone like this?

ok im exhausted, i'm falling into bed to read fanfic, but i'm absolutely in love with everything this is doing so far. i haven't written anything as in depth as this since last twilight (pre-betrayal) so it's really nice to feel insane again.

[mirror-to-the-past]

Word of advice to anyone who likes Omori analysis- check out @white-tulips critical re-playthrough of OMORI on their YouTube! I know they've been making the videos for a bit now, but I just started watching them (I've got to psyche myself up for long videos unless they're video essays, but this is pretty close to that category, so that helps). I watched the first one so far, and it was pretty absorbing. It's come to my attention that I've only played the game fully through once per main route (I have a Hikikomori file where I KNOW I've probably barely scratched the surface/never got to Red Maze), and played the True Route, and now I'm suddenly filled with a longing to play it again once I have the time.

Instead, though, I'll play Yume Nikki to check that out, because I've never played it despite knowing of it for a while, and now just found out (since it was mentioned in the video) that it's free on Steam! Well, fancy that!

Anyway, check out those videos. Neat stuff.

[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N: 

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied. 

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done. 

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day. 

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion. 

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time. 

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees. 

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm. 

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back. 

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart. 

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same. 

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home. 

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time. 

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes. 

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath. 

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice. 

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places. 

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office. 

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds. 

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. 

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action. 

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile. 

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets. 

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them. 

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully. 

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface. 

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky. 

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point. 

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them. 

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast. 

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat. 

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes. 

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat. 

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered. 

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement. 

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers. 

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two. 

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered. 

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly. 

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.” 

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in. 

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers. 

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of. 

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked. 

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now. 

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized. 

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her. 

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.  

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?” 

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

- Tags will be closing soon.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany @jessyballet @angstysebfan @tita127 @semistablecentenarian @im-a-light-child @alyssahowden @studiesinspanish @natyvwe @rebekahdawkins@fanfictionjunkie1112 @millennial-teenybopper @scotlandasshole @aquariusbarnes @shinykoalacat​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​  @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​ @shower-me-with-roses​ @pham-tastical @livstilinski​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @carls1022​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @anise-d-castle6​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​ @alyispunk​ @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​

[r0zez-in-bl00m]

~ 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~

Chaotic parents

🦇Lilia Vanrouge x fem!reader, WORD COUNT : : 2K

Description- Lilia's wife comes for a visit but leaves a trail of destruction behind.

Placed under the cut for length!

It was yet another quiet day at the dormitory founded on the elegance of the fairy of thorns. The morning was greeted by Sebek and Silver’s bickering about whose training routine was better while Silver occasionally dozed off leaving Sebek to jerk him awake every single time with his thunderous voice. The dorm leader of Diasomania, Malleus, stared out of the window in the common room, finding the outside world much more interesting than the leather stiff book he had read a countless number of times or the ongoing talk across the room.

Yes, it was indeed another normal, boring day for the residents of Diasomania. Well, far too normal.

The one-sided quarrel between Sebek and Silver ended abruptly when the sound of an explosion came from the kitchens (did they even have that?), breaking the second-year’s slumber instantly as he looked around quizzically. “WHAT WAS THAT?!?!” Sebek thundered, the obvious surprise plastered on his face as he faced Silver. The second-year shrugged his shoulders as a response as he removed Sebek’s hand on his dorm uniform. “Maybe the old man is in the kitchen again,” Silver said, staring at the hallway to the kitchen worryingly.

Silver knew how experimental his father was in the field of culinary arts. The variety of weird, foul-smelling dishes he had tasted (and dreaded) as a little child was a prime example of it. As the knight had feared, not soon after, Lilia stepped into the common room, his clothes a little burnt, face covered in soot, with a burnt dish in his hands. “Oh my, this stew took longer than I had anticipated!” He said as he dried the non-existent sweat off his brow. Sebek retracted the moment the blasted dish’s smell reached his nose. That dish could barely be categorized as food, let alone be eaten under normal circumstances. Was the dressing covered in slime and worms?

“I-I see . . . it’s an excellent looking dish, Lord Lilia!” Sebek complimented, but his reaction betrayed his words greatly. “May I ask which stew is it?”

‘Better not ask if you don’t want to be the first victim Sebek,’ Silver thought but refrained from speaking it out loud. Sebek was always too fond of his seniors. The old fae, on the other hand, seemed giddy and unusually excited to tell Sebek about his extra special dish. “Well, it’s my specialty dish which I only make on the rarest of occasions, and mind you it’s really hard to persuade me to make this dish even if you ask a million times,” Lilia giggled while continuously shoving the otherworldly stew at Poor Sebek’s face.

Who would be in their right mind to actually persuade Lilia Vanrouge, the most horrible cook humanity has ever seen?

Lilia’s body shivered from giggling as Sebek guessed various stew names he had known. In defeat, Lilia finally disclosed the name, “It’s my legendary ‘slimy beef casserole’!!”

Silver almost choked at the name of the dish alone when he thought he was about to doze off again, finding it hard to breathe as he stared at Lilia as if he had grown another head.

Malleus, from his window, had his ears perked up as well at the unusual excitement. “Beef-Tomato stew?” Malleus questioned, “Don’t you usually make it for-”

POOF!

Before he could finish a puff of green smoke encircled the room completely. Silver’s dread turned horrendous as his aurora eyes traveled up to see the person coming out of the clearing green fog.

Those (e/c) eyes, that hair tied in a ponytail, and the familiar scent of raspberries. Hauling the heavy travel bag in her hand, the apparently young-looking girl smiled brightly and exclaimed brightly, “Family reunion!!” tackling Lilia to the ground, eliciting a chuckle from the latter. All the while Silver pinched the bridge of his nose in worry.

Indeed, it was going to be a long day.

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

“All I had heard that it was a famous school for kids with magic, but I didn’t know that its campus was this big!!!” His mother chirped happily, skirting around here and there like a newborn baby bird. It had taken everything for Silver to not sink and die. To actually think that his own mother would show up at the school where he and his father were studying, and in summer clothes on top of that. That tank top concealed under a modest button-up shirt wasn’t doing her any favor. He had to persuade his stubborn mother to wear something modest enough to not get any weird glances.

Aside from Silver’s anxiety and protectiveness towards his mother, Lilia was extremely ecstatic.

“My sweet, you hadn’t mentioned that you had taken a trip to the southern islands in your recent letters,” Lilia said, strolling side by side with his beloved, arms linked and fingers intertwined. “Judging by your complexion you sure had a great time!”

(Name) giggled, “Of course, unlike you who would turn into a mummy just after an hour under the sun, I am always up for a swim on a hot summer beach and getting a tan!” She rolled up her sleeves and showed her changed skin color with pride, a smirk adorning her adorable visage.

Silver sheepishly scratched his head, “So, what made you come for a visit mom?” It’s not like he wasn’t happy, of course, no child could ever be sad to see their mother after a long time, but the question was- why now?

(Name) shuddered at the question, as if it was something too painful to talk about. Nonetheless, she shared her part of the story. “Staying in the Valley of thorns with nothing to do but tric⸺ I mean, play with neighbors was getting tooooo boring.” She said, twirling around in her summer dress, “That was when Sebek’s mum suggested me to go on a trip like old times! Gosh, I had missed the sights! But, traveling with my sugar daddy was much more fun, and I kind of started to miss⸺”

Silver’s eyes widened like two satellite dishes as he subconsciously cut of his mother, “Sugar what?”

He heard his father laugh heartily, smacking his arm slightly as if it was normal, “I told her to call me that, cool right?” Lilia asked, his lips occasionally curving upwards. Silver didn’t know what to do in this awkward situation. It was getting hard to keep a poker face when his cheeks were getting redder by the goddamn second. Unlike him, Malleus and Sebek were not even a little fazed by this.

“Nowadays people call their partners with such flowery nicknames,” (name) curiously reminiscence the one time she had heard someone calling their lovers in an odd fashion while at the beach. “Uh! Time flies by.”

Lilia chuckled at his beloved’s innocence, “Sweetheart, it’s good and all that you are learning new things and accepting the changing times, but” he gestured to Silver’s tomato face amusingly. “Other students will notice us, look, even our son is getting all embarrassed even after hearing our romantic exchanges a million times.”

Sebek, initially confused about what the great seven was happening, seeing his fellow guard show vulnerability, screamed at full-throttle, “SILVER!! Be ashamed of yourself!! It’s unbecoming of Young Master’s escort to show his blushing face in public!!!!”

Silver held the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time. “No one hadn’t even noticed until you brought it up for everyone to hear.” He pointed out to the two first-year students who were curiously eyeing the Diasomania group, only to scramble away laughing when Silver had noticed them.

Pushing all the hue and cry away, the prince of thorns conversed with Mrs. Vanrouge, his eyes glimmering with child-like fondness. “How has everything been in the Valley of thorns, (name)? Well, I presume?” His questions were cute just like his expressions!

The female couldn’t help but smile giddily, “My Prince, it hasn’t been long since your last visit to the land. What more could change in a few months’ time?”

The old fae nudged the prince’s arm a little. “You know Malleus, sweet. Always insatiably curious, this young lad,” Lilia added, earning a glare from the dorm leader. Before he could retort and start one of his ‘I’m not a child’ monologues, (name) asked– “Where are Silver and Sebek?” The other two fairies looked behind them and found the two of them vanished from sight.

“They must have stopped because of their argument again, those two.”

“I’ll go look for them if you’d like,” Malleus offered, but the old man shook it off. “Knowing those two, it’s better if I come too, just in case Sebek takes it to arms and marches on to war,” Lilia said. “(name), could you please wait a minute over here?”

As if she was a child who needed parental consent, (name) pouted at the irritating behavior of her husband only to earn a million mandol smile in return. The promise of getting back in less than a minute had triggered a few options in the female’s mind, none of them were in goodwill. Would she actually be Mrs. Vanrouge if not as much of a trickster as her husband?

A devilish smirk appeared as soon as the duo’s backs disappeared from her sight. Cracking the knuckles of her hands, she gazed around the vacant vicinity.

“Sooooooooo, what to do next?”

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

The half-silent walk towards the rendezvous point was broken when Lilia had opened up his mouth to speak- “It’s good that the two of you didn’t wander off too much, it would’ve been far too much troubling to search the entire school.”

“I DEEPLY APOLOGISE LORD LILIA!!” Sebek pleaded, or more like screamed for mercy, “If Silver hadn’t fallen asleep, we would’ve come back sooner.”

“And we wouldn’t have become lost,” Silver added apologetically. “It’s alright, it was all in goodwill and we found you in time before dinner,” Malleus reassured. Sebek seemed to calm down at his lord’s words but nonetheless continued to rant and reprimand himself for being an incompetent vassal and what not.

But it stopped the moment all of them found (name) to be missing. “Didn’t we leave (name) here?” Malleus asked, confused as to where she could’ve gone. “My little honey drop likes to play hide and seek a lot, surely she mustn’t have gone too far!” Lilia reasoned but internally dreaded inside. Something of a horrible memory was coming back to him but he couldn’t place his finger on it . . . .

“Father,” Silvers said, serious, “We need to find Mom before she gets herself into trouble.”

“Yes, Silver is absolutely correct, or have you forgotten what happened during the Queen’s birthday?” Lilia’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shaped as the realization dawned over him. “Right! How could I forget?” (name) had planted a party bomb inside the cake that it exploded and its contents spilled everywhere. It wasn’t that big of a prank but the look the Queen had thrown afterward spoke volumes.

“In that case, the sooner we find her, the better it will be.” At that, the group again moves out to search, the expectancy to loads of trouble ahead humming in their minds.

On the other side, many weird occurrences happened at NRC that day. Students found the cafeteria benches levitating in the air with Rosehearts screaming ‘OFF WITH YOUR HEAD’ at the anonymous person who had hanged him from the ceiling. The Lion of Savannah was in a sour mood all day after it took him 2 hours to remove all the girlish accessories which had magically adorned his hair and chased Ruggie to have the evidence removed from existence. The ever-charismatic Vil Schoenheit seemed to have wanted to pop a blood vessel in his body after finding that someone had let Heartslaybul’s Flamingos loose in the dormitory. The clean-up in itself was a big task, the aftermath even more terrible.

All the while (Name) treated herself to some roasted marshmallows (courtesy of the cafeteria ghosts who mistook her for a child). The female never quite understood why her husband detested such a delectable snack. At the thought of Lilia, she wondered if he was looking for her while she was creating chaos in the school. She giggled at the illustration of his panicked face came to her mind.

Leaving the train of thoughts, she turned her focus back on chomping down the white snack. “Oh, a child has wandered into the campus?” a suspicious voice came from behind her, a shadow looming over her and blocking the sunlight. (Name) immediately turned to see a man with a bird mask glowering from above. The female wanted to scoff at the impudence of the idiot in front of her. Child? She was even older than the ancestry line of the top hat he was wearing. But, still feeling a little devilish, she decided to go with the flow. The headmaster crouched down in front of her, “Are you lost?”

“KIDNAPPER!!!!!!!!” The scream was so hard that it had rendered his hearing senses, which was a first for him given that he had already heard a different variety of screams. “My, dear child you have a loud voice!” Crowley held his head, still trying to shake off the effect, “and I’m not a kidnapper. I may appear suspicious but I’m a very generous person and the headmaster of this school!”

Even more, fun to trick you then.

“Oh really! Then prove it, Mister Crow!” she said faux excitedly.

Crowley cleared his throat, finding the nickname to be cute, “Alright, Alright! How about some ice cream and a little tour of the school?” The female’s mouth immediately watered at the word ‘ice cream’. She nodded vigorously in approval. Suddenly, she felt glad that she came to visit. Having a delicious treat on top of that a good laugh was like icing on a cake. Maybe she could demand a cake too.

“Headmaster Crowley!! Right on time!”

Oh damn.

She dreaded what was about to come next. The sight of her beloved husband with a teasing smile on his face poured water all over her future plans! Goodbye ice-cream.

“Everything has been upside down today . . . . oh, who’s this?” curse his impeccable question ‘who’s this?’

“This is a child I found roaming the gardens,” Crowley explained. “And by what do you specifically mean by ‘upside down’, Vanrouge?”

“You’re requested in the cafeteria, there you might get what you need, for the time being, I can look over after the child,” The damned fae knew what he was doing and was enjoying every bit of it! He smiled, showing more teeth than required, his magenta orbs glowing, “We will have lots of fun, won’t we little one?” It sent shivers down her spine and marked as the queue that she had overstayed her visit and best be off now.

With a puff of smoke, she vanished into sight, leaving the headmaster confused as the green air cleared. “What just happened Vanrouge?”

Lilia smiled peacefully, exhaling a sigh of relief, and said, “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

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

“Father, you’re going to mail the stew?”

“Yes! She came for a visit but forgot her favorite dish. I hope that the Thorn delivery service can handle the stew, the worms bite a lot.”

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝕲𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓

____________________________

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌!𝕭𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖞 𝖝 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙!𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖀

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: When the Queen falls sick and passes away, King Bucky must marry another, preferably the princess of an alliance kingdom nearby, in order to keep peace and order among the lands. However she is the most god awful human being anyone has ever met. Her guard however well she was definitely not what the king expected.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: making out? (part 4? smut next chapter [it was getting too long]) 

𝕬/𝖓: party party partyyy  i imagine the reader to be wearing something similar to zendaya’s met gala look 2018 but in gold even though it’s far from accurate but hey it’s fan fiction.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.4k 

part one | part two | part three |

_____________________________

It was the day of the king’s annual celebration with the many kings throughout the land. That also meant tomorrow Bucky would need to make his final decision whether to accept the hand of Charlotte or return home without a queen. 

Before Bucky went downstairs to meet with his friends he stared at his appearance in the mirror. He wore gold fabrics with white and his sparkling golden crown bejeweled with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other jewels.

He also reminisced on the most recent time he’d spent with you. 

You were running through the forest, giggling and laughing looking behind yourself to see Bucky not far from you chasing you like a predator. You swiftly moved through the trees with grace sticks and twigs hardly snapping under you while Bucky was far from stealthy. Branches cracking and crunching underneath him.

You moved behind a large oak tree hoping you lost Bucky. You peeked around the tree to see if he had stopped to search for you but when you looked he was lost in sight. You moved up a bit to look harder and yet he was nowhere to be found. 

You moved back to spot only to find Bucky inches away from you scaring you.

“James!” you shrieked.

“You frightened me,” you pushed his shoulder. 

“Is that so?” he moved his face closer to yours. 

“Yes. Don’t do that again,” you cupped his face.

“But darling, it was hilarious. You should’ve seen your face. Priceless,” he leaned in to kiss you but you turned your face away.

“Oh come on,” Bucky grabbed your waist and pulled you close; nuzzling his face in your neck lovingly.

“No, you scared me half to death. I’m not going to kiss after that.”

“If I promise to not do it again will you let me kiss you?” you falsely hesitated making him chuckle at your antics.

“Fine.”

Bucky cupped your jaw and leaned tortuously slow. His lips brushing so softly against yours like he was dragging out time as much as he could possibly do himself. His nose brushing against your own as his lips moved more passionately. 

You and Bucky had kept this secret affair since that day in the field where he kissed you. Charlotte had become more distant as time went on and at first Bucky had tried to continue getting to know her but she was always locked up in her bedroom reading letters from someone Bucky had yet to discover. 

So he gave up and spent most of his time either with his friends or with you. It had gotten to a point where Charlotte and Bucky only saw each other for breakfast and supper when everyone would meet to eat together.

Her father would frequently ask of you two and Charlotte was always very quick to lie about what her and Bucky would be doing or talking about. Of course to appease the fellow king Bucky would play along. 

Now Bucky and Charlotte would attend the ball together and neither of them were rather ecstatic about the idea. They didn’t exactly hate each other but Charlotte wasn’t fond of Bucky and Bucky didn’t like her childish attitude and behavior he often saw. 

But nonetheless here they are attending a party together as if they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

“Look at you. You look dashing,” Natasha said hugging Bucky when he emerged from his room. 

“You look great, Buck,” Steve said, patting his friend’s shoulder.

“Impressive,” said Sam.

They headed towards the ballroom that was massive already filled with many wealthy people to lords and ladies and dukes and kings. People of many cultures too. Some were even rich traders and higher classmen. However, everyone was making the room seem a bit crowded. 

Bucky eyes landed on Charlotte wearing a large baby pink ball gown that was quite beautiful he’d admit. She was standing with her parents as they greeted people entering the party. He hadn’t seen you yet but his heart was racing at the thought of you with a magnificent dress, dressed to the nines.

He greeted the king and queen as did his friends and he took Charlotte’s hand to lead her down the beautiful staircase to the party. There was live music playing so Bucky looked to Charlotte and asked her to dance. 

She said yes and they began to move softly with the music. Something seemed to catch Charlotte’s eye as her mood changed quickly to be much more lively. Bucky searched for what it could be but was very distracted by you who had just entered the room.

You were ethereal. A goddess bestowed to bless everyone’s eyes. Bucky nearly fell over at the sight of you. You wore a golden dress similar to your knightly armor. Golden breastplate that covered your neck and shoulders, golden sheet covering your arms and circling your legs to leave a long golden train that dragged behind you. You were golden.

You haven't seen Bucky yet but you were very excited. He’s the reason you’re dressed for the party in the first place. You hate these parties because they were so useless and crowded and you just didn’t like them. But you wanted to see Bucky again and you were willing to sacrifice some of your time to this party.

You found Nat, Steve, and Sam; all aware of your a little forbidden affair, thankful they’ve kept quiet but they noticed how you’ve changed Bucky. He was more happy and looked like a man in love. You were perfect for him. 

So they stayed quiet in hopes Bucky would configure some sort of plan so that you’d be capable of receiving his hand in marriage. 

“Hey guys. You all look beautiful,” you said hugging each one of them. 

“Back at you,” Nat said holding your waist, “Bucky’s gonna freak when he sees you.”

“Looks like he already has,” Steve said, turning his head towards Buck who stood standing and gawking at you. 

You felt shy being under his hungry gaze, but continued to hold conversation with Steve, Sam, and Nat seeing as Charlotte was still with him. 

“You should close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Charlotte said to Bucky.

“I’m sorry? I don’t know what your- your talking about,” Bucky whispered completely flustered.

“I know you’ve been sneaking around. I saw you two at the field when it first happened,” Charlotte whispered to Bucky. 

“I’m so sorry I… I-” Bucky stammered.

“Don’t worry I haven’t told anyone,” she smirked.

“And why’s that?” 

Charlotte looked to a boy who stood at the edge of the dance floor staring at them.

“The duke’s son,” Bucky said.

“We met years ago. Since then we’ve talked a lot; sent letters. I love him and he loves me. But we can’t be together.”

“Why’s that? He seems like a better candidate than I am. I’m old.”

This made her chuckle.

“My father wants me to marry a king. Henry isn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Truthfully, I know you love Y/n.”

“I don’t know if love um, you know, uh,” Bucky stuttered again.

“You love her. It’s ok,” Charlotte laughed.

“What if she doesn’t love me back? What if she thinks this is some sort of fling? Maybe-”

“She loves you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy before. It’s kinda weird; and gross. And someone like Y/n wouldn’t waste a breath on someone who could get her in trouble unless she loved them.”

There was a nice silence that settled between them until Charlotte spoke up again. He went to look for you again but he saw you walking back up the stairs. Were you leaving already? You hadn’t come to him yet.

“She’s not a party person; surprised she even came out. Go to her.”

“Thank you. And tell Henry you love him.”

“He knows,” she laughed.

Bucky stepped away and followed your path completely leaving the party and celebration behind him for you.

======================================

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:

@velvetcardiganbucky​​

@chipilerendi ​

@heavenhatesme

@austynparksandpizza

@ahahafudge ​

@onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles

@smoochesfroggos

@thegeekybibliophile​

[lettrespromises]

THE FORGOTTEN DAY. - AKAASHI, DAICHI, KUROO, ATSUMU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝Hey Nikki its me again lmao 😂. Could you do one where they actually completely forget your birthday? With Akaashi, daichi, kuroo, and atsumu? Make it angst please🥺❞

A.N: ❝dear reader,

thank you so much for trusting me once more with your request! i always love writing the requests even more so than my own prompts. i sincerely hope you’ll like these hc’s, i tried to make these as angsty as i could but atsumu has two braincells and i could NOT resist the temptation of doing something more lighthearted, i hope you won’t be mad at me! mwah! enjoy your promised letter!

sincerely yours, nikki❞

Genre: Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Cursing, crying.

Now, Akaashi is not one to forget about dates and birthdays. I’m pretty sure he has a notebook filled with everyone’s birthdays written in a chronological order. Needless to say, he’s someone who is extremely organized. 

He is the kind of boyfriend to remember all the slightest details you mention when you guys have a conversation. We’re talking about small details, pieces of informations that others wouldn’t necessarily pick up on except if your name is Akaashi Keiji. (I.E: he knows that Bokuto-san classifies his underwear according to each day of the week.)

The week leading up to your birthday, he makes sure to leave several notes stuck on your notebooks, laptop, mug, even your jacket to let you know how loved you are and how exceptional of a human being you are.

Unfortunately for you, your birthday has the misfortune of being set right during the revision week leading to the final exams. The latter are extremely important to Akaashi because missing his exams would result in him not being able to go to inter-school volleyball training held during the weekend. 

Even though he’s in a relationship, he can be quite distant when something is bothering him because he refuses categorically to drown you with his problems, revisions being one of them. He’s so driven to study hard (although he’s already an excellent student), that everything else appears as a blur to him- he breathes revisions, eats revisions, lives for revisions.

The latter causes him to inevitably forget about your birthday. At first, you just think he’s playing along with you and he has this huge and sweet surprise in store for you which might explain why he hasn’t left you any love notes or sent you any texts, or even avoid you at school.

The evening of your birthday, you crash down at his place, a bit perplexed at his antics. But, unconsciously, you were still in denial, you knew or at least hoped that he was just purposefully acting as such because he wanted to surprise you for your birthday.

When he opens the door and sees you, he has a quizzical look on his face “Um, hello, Y/N? May I ask what you’re doing here, dove?”

Now, it was your turn to have a quizzical look on your face, “So you really don’t know? Isn’t it, you know, a special day?” 

His mind is so coated by his obsession to study hard that nothing comes to his mind, nothing to answer to your interrogation and eventually, nothing to leave his mouth as a response. He could swear there’s something he has forgotten, it’s somehow on the tip of his tongue but no sound is echoed on his part. 

“You know what, Akaashi, just don’t make promises you can’t keep. I hope these notes you left me will help you.” 

First of all, you called him Akaashi instead of Keiji, meaning that there was something terribly wrong with him or his deeds.

Second of all, he looked carefully enough, there were pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes.

Third of all, he was so taken aback, as if all his memory had resurfaced in the blink of an eye that he still couldn’t find the strength to say something. Instead, his eyes wandered on your figure, his back facing you, already on your way home. The sole reflex he had was to raise his hand in your direction, as if he could catch your silhouette already long gone, hopelessly.

Daichi is already the (unofficial) dad of troublesome children (thank the heavens for mama Sugawara and uncle Asahi), which means not only he has to juggle between his duty as a captain and as a student, but he also must make sure of the stability of your relationship.

It’s really taking a toll on him. Seeing him come home late after late night practice is not even surprising anymore, he just comes to your place and crashes down for the night at unbelievable hours- sometimes ten, sometimes eleven.

His role of captain is so dear to his heart and he’s kind of an all or nothing kind of guy. But when it comes to the volleyball team, he pours every once of passion, patience and energy he has to offer. He knows that the first years have literally gifts when it comes to playing and he wants to exploit their potential at the fullest.

Nonetheless, when it comes to remembering dates, Daichi (being an unofficial dad) has the tendency to remember rather quickly common dates like birthdays, if not, he can always count on Suga to remind him in case he gets too hotheaded into what he’s doing.

On the day of your birthday, he sent you a myriad of texts, mini-novels if you will. All of them were the testimonies of the love he held in your regard, he was so thoughtful, each one of his word was carefully chosen to make you feel like the most loved person on the planet.

Starting the day off with a series of loving texts from your boyfriend is indeed the best way to wake up.

However, after close inspection, the last text he had sent you mentioned a date tonight at your favorite restaurant in town because, and I quote, “you deserve to be treated like the royalty you are.”

Focusing in class was almost impossible, the only thing occupying your mind was tonight’s date with Daichi, just the two of you on your birthday. And truth be told, there was no other way you’d rather spend this ever so special day.

Right after the bell rang, you made a beeline to your place to get ready as Daichi told you he would pick you up at 7, right after practice. Your heart was bursting with joy and impatience, a sweet mix of emotions which made you feel overwhelmed by love.

It was 7 already and your eyes were stuck on the alley of your house, waiting to see Daichi’s car arrive and admire the beautiful, lovestruck grin plastered upon his face. 

Then it was 8, and suspicions started to arise in your mind. Your head was clouded by interrogations : “Does he not love me anymore?”, “Is this is way of telling me we should break up?”

Then 9, then 10 and eventually 11.

You waited four hours to hear a sign from Daichi, and you couldn’t keep up with the countless texts you had sent him, wondering where he was. But, you still had hope. Heart-crushing hope that is, or maybe you were just stuck in pure denial.

You were sitting on a chair, several stains of tears on your cheeks already, facing the window which offered a view outside your house because “You never know, he might show up...”

At 11, your phone rang and Daichi’s number highlighted the screen. You were so quick to pick up the phone, your quickness was almost inhuman. 

“Baby? Hi, it’s me. Are you still awake?” You hummed in response, scared of the way your voice would break if you were to talk. “Listen, practice-...”, you cut him off : “Practice ran late again, I know, Daichi.”

There was a moment of silence on his end of the line, a moment of guilt.

“Baby, you have no idea how sorry I am. It’s just the team and the firs-...” - “I know, the gifted first years.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“We can reschedule tomorrow if you want, I’ll ask Ennoshita to take care of the training for me.” He sounded desperate, eaten alive by the guilt consuming him and the fragile tone of your voice, you sounded like a broken record.

“Tomorrow won’t be my birthday anymore, Daichi, you know that.” You knew that if you were to hear the sound of his voice again, you were bound to break in tears, and as much as he hurt you, you knew it wasn’t his fault and you didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty than he already was feeling.

Instead, you hung up while he was still rambling about confused apologies and you headed straight to your room, head low, fresh tears crashing on the stains left by the dried tears. Like an eternal circle, if you will.

Kuroo is someone who is extremely observant by nature, just look at the way he behaves around Kenma- he doesn’t need for you to talk to know how you’re feeling and can directly dissect what’s wrong with you.

So when he finds himself having a one-sided discussion with you, (or a double-sided conversation if you deem silence as a worthy response), his brain automatically goes on retrospection mode and he’s trying to reminisce absolutely everything that happened during the last 48 hours.

The science-related puns don’t work, the teasing is a crushing defeat, all his best aces fail to put a smile on your face or make you crack a laugh. You’re still silent, or if he’s lucky enough, he can hear the faint sound of hum leaving your lips.

His last option is to ask Kenma because Kenma appears as an omniscient point of view in your relationship. And although he’s not directly involved in your couple, he always seems to find the responses to the riddles left by the cons of being in a relationship.

Kuroo and Kenma are having lunch outside, as expected of the blonde individual, his eyes are solely focused on the device held between his hands, but Kuroo is used to it. 

“Man, I just don’t get why Y/N is giving me the cold shoulder, it’s really weighing on my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t know, or do you act as if you don’t know?”

“Ha? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was Y/N’s birthday, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh... Oh! It’s time to panic, it’s time to leave his brain on overdrive and find a solution to make up for what he judged an inexcusable behavior. 

What broke his heart even more is when he imagined to put himself into your shoes, how heartbroken you must have felt, how alone you must have felt, he even wondered if you wanted to break up with him.

Sure, Kuroo was observant, but sometimes being a airhead got the best of him. Or perhaps in this case, the worse of him.

He froze, his mouth was set agape and kind of like Akaashi, in moments of panic, he didn’t know what to do. He felt defeatist, he knew that forgetting your birthday was a dealbreaker. He already thought of all the consequences of his actions, and he knew that none of these consequences would turn out good in any way.

He ran through the hallways like a madman, yelling to the other students to step aside as he did so. He knew where you were, and he felt so stupid for knowing your timetable off by heart but not being able to remember such a simple date as your birthday.

You were having lunch in class with your friends, and when a hint of a roster’s head peaked through the door, making hand gestures to silently tell you to come see him, you excused yourself and left the class under the puzzling looks of your friends.

To say that Kuroo was sweating was an understatement, he was absolutely shaking to death and he exuded guilt by every pore of his body. Your gaze landed on his face, and your expression seemed lifeless- where did the usual gleam in your eyes go? The shine in your eyes he loved so much?

“You’re free to insult me for the rest of my days on this planet. I know I messed up, I messed up so bad and I don’t even know how to-... Hey? Oi, Y/N, please, please don’t cry.”

If he needed yet another reason to feel guilty, that was his cue. The tears falling in cascade on your face, the scarlet tones of your eyes, everything about you screamed pure sadness.

Both of your hearts broke in unison, and the motion of his hands to capture you and hold him close to his chest was so experimental, as if he’d never held you in his arms in his entire life. 

“Why did you forget, Tetsu?”

“I swear on my life that it was unintentional. I know you won’t forgive me anytime soon and, kitten, you have every right to do so. I know it’s not an excuse but just believe me when I say that it was unintentional. I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”

“Just wish me a happy birthday instead of rambling.”

“Happy birthday, kitten, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

As the manager of the volleyball team, you were Inarizaki’s pride and joy. You were a literal ray of sunshine, the embodiment of a gem and you were always cherished by the entire team for helping them so much.

You always made sure they drank enough, prepped several towels in case they sweated too much (they always did), listened to their problems, eased their doubts- you were undeniably perfect to them.

So perfect that Osamu, as well as the rest of the team, always wondered  how and why you ended up with his airhead of a twin, or rather, and I quote, “The useless piss-haired twin.”

To be frank, if it wasn’t for you, Atsumu would probably be dead by now. The cause of his death? Osamu himself? The whole team? His stupidity? We shall never know.

You cannot expect Atsumu to remember any specific dates, he even struggles to remember his own birthday which results in him asking when was his brother born and Osamu letting out a desperate sigh, wondering what on Earth did he do in his previous life to deserve such a twin.

Nonetheless, Osamu’s cooking skills came in handy. The whole team had agreed on celebrating your birthday, a kind of surprise birthday after practice if you will, because you were so good to them.

The divine smell of the cake didn’t go unsmelled (please help is that even a word?? no it’s not but i couldn’t say ‘go unseen’ because a smell can’t be seen like???) by none other than Atsumu himself. “Whatcha’ baking this for?” Osamu didn’t even bother to throw a glance in his twin brother’s direction “You should know, idiot.”

Safe to say that Atsumu got absolutely z e r o information from his brother whatsoever and was thus left in general incomprehension. He then figured that maybe it was someone’s birthday given how well looking the cake was, but whose birthday was it? Once again, z e r o idea.

After practice, the whole team gathered to show you the surprise they had in store for you- Kita had stuck some ‘happy birthday’ posters on the wall, Osamu had brought the cake and Aran had the gift from the whole team in his hands. The preparation was quick and efficient, all while you were changing in your more regular outfit in the locker room. 

Needless to say, Atsumu still had z e r o clue to whose birthday they were going to celebrate but the grin on his face still testified of how happy he was. 

When you exited the locker room to say goodbye to the rest of the team, you were absolutely overwhelmed by joy when you saw them gathered together, a radiant smile plastered upon their face, they were so proud of themselves and most of all, they were proud to be the reason of your happiness. 

Reflex kicked, both of your hands covered your mouth and your vision quickly became blurry from the pearls of tears gathering at the brim of your eyes. To say that you were happy was an understatement, you felt so moved, so touched that this whole surprise was for your birthd-

“Hold up, I thought it was mom’s birthday? Who’s the cake for?”

The look on Osamu’s face screamed “Someone hold me back before I kill this idiot with my bare hands.”

Kita threw a volleyball at the back of Atsumu’s head.

Suna was crying on the inside out of desperation.

Hitoshi was holding Osamu back.

The rest of the team eventually ganged up on Atsumu for even daring to forget their sweet angel’s birthday while you were standing there, dumbfounded to say the least, torn between crying and laughing.

You didn’t even need to make Atsumu pay for his mistake, the team had made sure to make him pay for the next ten years (if I’m being generous.)

So... Happy birthday... I guess?

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (3)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of violence + death, oppression of women, murder/homicide, forced (?) kissing but it’s implied that she likes it, mentions of drugs + drug use + drugging someone else, emotional blackmail (kinda)

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 5.2k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

18 April

You felt yourself wake up with a haze in your brain, feeling like you were fogged from heat as you opened your eyes with a few blinks. Your body felt like it was on fire, and just as you let out a groan, you tried to bring your hands to your face to rub it a bit, but you couldn’t. Your vision blurred, you tugged at your arms again, now hearing the chains that were coming from the cuffs around your wrists and ankles, anchoring you to the ground.

What happened? It was like someone had read your thoughts when you heard a bright, yet deep laugh in front of you, startling you as you struggled to look up from where you were. I was at the hideout, in the hallway, a smoke bomb went off, and—

Your memory blanked out from there, the last words in your brain being those from your darling fiancee. The entire world is a game, Park. We’re all just a bunch of players. But nothing seemed to come after that, a complete wipe out of everything that could have happened after that smoke bomb went off. “Who’s there?”

A figure came closer to you, your vision clearing slowly with each move it made until it was in the front, kneeling down to the level you were at. The ‘it’ was rather a man, and a very beautiful one in your perspective. His face inched closer to yours, eyes darting all over your face before the ends of his lips darted up in a twisted smile, painting his face gorgeously. “He was right, baby, you’re a pretty one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the motion was cut off harshly, the man’s lips coming crashing down on your own as you attempted to push him away. The jingle of the chains was a loud echo in the room, making the man giggle as he dodged your teeth, pressing his tongue into your mouth instead. His mouth was warm, so sweet and inviting as his tongue molded against yours, urging you to give in—to kiss him back for just a moment.

He pulled away from you, the dyed silver hair falling over his eyes as he pushed it back in one motion, licking his lips as if he had just tasted something. “I could just ruin you, Park—” A hand went to your jaw as you opened your mouth again in the slightest, grasping it tightly in his palm as he pulled you closer to him once again. 

In all your years of experience in fighting, never did you think you would go so weak in the knees for such dominance like this. Whoever this mysterious man was, he was making your heart jump in less than a second, making you wonder how you were being so affected by this. I’m drugged, aren’t I? That’s why I’m so weak. 

You weren’t wrong about that, but it wasn’t the drugs that let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed across your neck, hoping that he wouldn’t hear. He did, however, the darkness of his eyes focusing back on you as a smirk plastered his face again. “So impatient, you are a Park indeed, sweetheart. Say—”

The man’s words were cut off short with a bang coming from the end of the room, making you jump as a door had flown open, a man coming in storming hastily towards the two of you. He let go of the grasp around your jaw, sighing deeply as he stood back up, licking his lips once again as his eyes never left yours. God, why is that so hot? What the fuck? What’s wrong with me?

He turned away from you, facing where the opening of the door was, the people coming into closer view as your eyes focused on the one in the front, his eyes narrow and full of pierced anger. A wave of exhaustion took over you as you recognized the person, the one with the familiar sound of his jeans and black polished boots.

“I told you to watch her, bastard!” he snarled as he took a hold of the other’s man’s collar, pulling it closer to him with a force that made it seem like he would destroy. “Not taint her with your foul blood.”

“Shut up, Taeyong,” the silver-haired man pushed him away with a palm, dusting off his clothing like it was nothing. He looked back up at him, rolling his eyes with another step closer. “All I did was kiss her, brother.”

Taeyong didn’t look at you, his eyes only angrily shaking at the man in front of him as you tried to connect the dots. Your brain was failing to cooperate, however, because with every mental move you tried to make, you felt like you were going to pass out. Taeyong. Lee Taeyong. Where am I, then?

“And you know what,” he continued, looking down at you to where he had just previously stuck his tongue down the wet walls of your throat. “My blood is your blood, you know that. Can’t you lend the girl to me? She’s a Park after all, how can I resist?”

Taeyong seemed to be annoyed with his answer, waving him away for his behavior as the anger dissipated from his face in an instant, looking down at you instead. In his eyes, you looked perfect, just where you belonged as you were locked down to the ground by his own handmade chains wrapped around your shimmering skin. 

It was exactly what you had thought when he just smiled at you, scanning your entire body as your completely wrecked figure overtook his vision. No, Taeyong wasn’t here to save you, you didn’t think he would be the type to do so. He leaned down closer to you, the other man watching as he came down to your level, raising a hand to stroke your hair softly.

“D-Don’t touch me,” you tried to get out, but it was weak, falling from your lips as a desperate whisper that almost pleaded ‘please, touch me’ as they both chuckled, the argument that had taken place merely seconds ago no longer seeming to be an issue. He’s the one who drugged me, isn’t he?

“You’re so much better like this,” his thumb brushed over your lips, the lingering kiss from the silver-haired man still sugary on the edges as he pressed past them, slipping it into your mouth for a brief second before pulling it out. It was filthy, the way your saliva coated his finger until he traced your jawline with the wetness, the liquid drying onto your skin uncomfortably. “So much prettier, pure and hmm—beautiful. Aren’t you just a work of art?”

He didn’t just drug me, he kidnapped me too. His hand trailed to the back of your neck, coldness meeting your hot skin as he chuckled at your heat, eyes darkening from how messy you were getting. Your eyes faltered, looking from Taeyong to the other man, and then back to him; you tried at the chains again, feeling so out of control.

And I think I know exactly why.

Jeno’s hands ran through his now dirtied blond hair for about the hundred time, ruffling it madly as he made his way through the hallway. It had been only a few hours since he had—just lost you from his grasp, and it was already taking a toll on him. Not only did his father just threaten to kill him, he also had held Mark with a knife at his throat, his own son’s throat, threatening to him that he would kill his brother if he didn’t bring you back in one piece.

It didn’t matter how much he reminisced over the events that took place earlier, because your presence was gone almost as quickly as it was there. He had one thing to do, and he fucked that one thing up; if he wasn’t able to find you before the two of you were supposed to have your ‘formal’ engagement, your family would probably wage war against the Lees. Well, it was inevitable at this point, though, since everything that just happened seemed so intricately planned out leading to your disappearance. It wasn’t normal.

Mark walked beside the younger man, scrolling through his tablet on something related to illegal hacking, seeming deeply focused on whatever it was until Jeno reached his room. He looked up from the screen, his eyes shining as he bid him a short goodbye and a promise to inform him if he found anything related to your whereabouts.

It was obvious that Jeno was beyond frustrated: frustrated with himself for being able to lose his hold on you so quickly, and with his father, who didn’t even offer an ounce of help in order to locate you. It was all up to him, and if you weren’t found and brought back to the Lees, other things with happen, things that included your family and his.

He was halfway through stripping his dirty clothing from his body when Mark came bursting into his room, a laptop covering his face as he slammed the door and walked over to his brother, shoving it towards. “I found something—”

The screen reflected a large map of the city, with a point fixated in the middle, marking familiar looking coordinates. Jeno couldn’t quite pinpoint what was so oddly familiar about it, and the longer he looked at the numbers, the more confused he got. He looked up at Mark, blinking a few times. “I don’t get it.”

“Doesn’t it look familiar?” He used his fingers to zoom in on the touchpad, tapping again to show the numbers of the coordinates. “Remember when Father first took us out for a battle, maybe when we were like—thirteen or fourteen? He made us memorize the coordinates.”

Of course Jeno remembered his first battle, the first time he had ever held a gun in his hand away from the training room and the first time he had shot a bullet into a living breathing person. He had earned one of his very rarely occurring praises from his father that day, but it had easy been taken away when he had overestimated himself, ending up with a broken shinbone for a few weeks. It was also the first time he had gotten hurt in battle, and the first time he had lost one.

“Y/N had a phone,” Mark continued, making Jeno perk up from the words. He hadn’t seen you using a phone, not that you were necessarily allowed anyway. “I saw her take one with her before she left, so I traced it down from a few networks to see what was actually on the phone. Whoever kidnapped her had tried to erase everything from the net, but I was able to scavenge the last message sent from her phone.”

With a few taps, he pulled up a encrypted file, typing a few more things to show the actual message. “It was sent from her phone, almost right after we got back home. I couldn’t find who the message was sent to, but it was to a contact that was frequently called in the past few days. But, I was also able to scavenge her last call.”

He pulled up an audio file, pressing it a few times before it played. Your voice came ringing from the device, a voice softer than what Jeno had ever heard from his time with you. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay without me.” The second voice was deep, and Jeno was obviously not expecting it to be a—male.

“But I miss you,” he could hear the slow burn of the other’s voice, the very slight crack that he was able to hear. “Will you come to see me after? Will you visit me soon?” There was a pause, and for a moment Jeno thought that the clip was over, but your soft chuckle was vibrant, startling him a bit; he hadn’t heard you laugh purely before, only in sarcasm or annoyance. 

“Maybe one day, Sungie, I’ll see you.”

Jeno couldn’t help but feel like he was eavesdropping on a conversation that he clearly was not supposed to hear, but he continued listening intently, listening to the male let out a dry chuckle. “But you won’t be with me anymore.”

“Shh, I’m always with you, Jisungie.” The audio broke, your voice being the last ringing noise in Jeno and Mark’s ears as Jeno looked over to his older brother, confusion spreading across his face. Who was she talking to?

“It’s her younger brother,” Mark seemed to have read his mind, taking the laptop back into his hands as he plopped down on the bed, starting to type rapidly. “I tracked him down too, Park Jisung, eighteen. Lives in the Park mansion on the other side of the city, where Y/N used to live. I’m assuming that these coordinates were also sent to his contact, which means whoever kidnapped her also wanted to tie in her family with this.”

It was all a sudden blur to Jeno, it didn’t even seem like it was real as he thought about how coincidental the entire situation was. You were kidnapped, apparently last tracked down at the exact coordinates that he had his first battle at, along with a message sent to your brother basically asking him to come there. It didn’t even seem a little bit right.

After a little more blanking out, it hit him. He clapped his hands together loudly, startling Mark as he sat down next to him. “Remember what Father said on that day? He said that one day we wouldn’t be part of NCT Lee anymore, because we would have evolved into our own people.”

Mark scrunched up his face, nodding for him to continue. “He told us that all of our skills would go use eventually, and it wouldn’t be for the Lees, it wouldn’t be for the family anymore because fighting isn’t about family. Winning isn’t about family.”

“I don’t get it, where—are you going with this?”

“Listen!” Jeno threw up his hands in slight frustration. “He told us that clans never lasted for as long as they thought they would, and that NCT would have to be reorganized once again with all of us included. That’s what the coordinates are for, he wanted us to memorize them because that’s where the beginning of the new clan would be. Or—rather, group.”

He pointed straight at the longitudinal coordinate, the numbers flashing on the screen brightly as he did so.

“NCT 127.”

There was a silky blindfold drawn over your eyes when you woke up again, the initial haze draining your body once again as you sat up, the chains having been removed from your body. But you were tied together now, ropes enclosed your wrists together behind your back, making you struggle.

A hand yanked off the ribbon around your eyes, bright light finally filling your vision. You could feel your head spinning, probably from whatever they had given you previously. “Aw, pretty Y/N is finally awake—”

It was the same sweet voice as before, and you watched as a figure appeared in front of you. You were on some kind of couch now, no longer in the same white room full of painful looking chains, and there was someone sitting across from you. The silver-haired man leaned down to your level, clicking his tongue in mock pity.

“Who are you?” The words came out groggy, almost as if you had been dehydrated for days as your mouth involuntary salivated, making you press your dry lips together. “Who—”

“You can call me Haechan,” he cut you off, his hand moving to your jaw as he forced your face upwards, his own face inching closer to yours. “Oh, baby, it’s so sad that you can’t be mine. Look at you, you’re gorgeous, hmm. I even brought you a gift, darling.” His last words came out as a low hiss, sending shivers through your body as he moved away, letting the person in front of you come into view.

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped in your chest as you saw the familiar dyed hair masking the dark eyes of your younger brother; his eyes were closed, probably dozed off from the way his stance was relaxed, though he had the same ropes around his wrists and ankles. How did he get here? Why did they take him too?

As you opened your mouth to speak, Haechan leaned over to you, untying your wrists just to yank one towards him, a syringe shining in his hands as you tried wriggling away. No wonder you were feeling so out of reality, dozing in and out so quickly, your heart rate faltering as you could barely even keep your breathing normal. “Heroin,” you whispered as you gave up against his grip, wincing slightly as he injected you with it.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he answered softly, contrasting from how he had just given you some of the most dangerously addictive stuff on the planet, pushing you down against the couch as he retied your wrists. “You’re starting to love it, sweetheart, and I’ll keep giving it to you if you continue behaving like a good girl. Hmm?”

Haechan’s hand stroked your hair as he leaned you against the soft cushions, wandering his eyes over your face as he saw you fall into the drug, being thrown into a pleasurable rush, resulting in you letting out a quiet sound. “Feels good, hmm? You like it?”

You couldn’t answer him, your mind being thrown into another reality as you foggily saw him moving over to Jisung, pulling out his arm in the same fashion. “No,” you cried out, launching yourself forward until you were on the ground, your knees grazing painfully against the wooden surface as Haechan looked down at you in awe, his hand drawing back. “Don’t—” He saw your look of desperation, a look that said ‘please, don’t drug my baby brother’ as you struggled against the ties, trying to stand up in your position. 

“You don’t want me to give him some too?” He threw the syringe on the other couch, pulling you up by the waist and throwing you back across from your brother. His fingers lingered on your body for a second longer before he pulled away, tucking a hair away behind your ear as he watched your eyes flutter shut, and then you force them open. “Don’t be selfish, baby, let him have some too.”

“N-No, don’t—please,” you choked out as he took a step back, hooking your legs around his to keep him in place. “Don’t—give him any, please. Don’t touch him—please...”

Haechan wished he could’ve given into your pleads, seeing your eyes turn glossy with each move he made. He glanced over to where the door was, knowing that his older brother would come in at any second to see if he was doing his job properly. All he had to do was put you in a position where you wouldn’t be able to refuse him, and Taeyong was smart enough to know that you could bare the pain against yourself. 

But if it was your family, that was a different situation. Parks did everything for their family, fought for pride and not victory, that was something he learned at a very young age. Family was the last sacrifice that a Park would make, the last sacrifice after themselves. “Please don’t drug him, H-Haechan—”

You weren’t sure if using his name would have convinced him not to, already having seen that he was hesitating from the way you were looking so sincere and affected by just the idea of Jisung being drugged. It wasn’t fake, for once, the emotion was just as real as you showed him, because no, you didn’t want your brother to be harshly drugged the way he had just done you.

But he didn’t speak, only pulling your legs off of him and smoothing it down to the ground, wondering if he should tie your ankles together. You watched as he let his hand wander, rubbing your thighs in a slow fashion, making you believe that he was focusing on you instead of him. It was working, but only for a second until he pushed your body back against the couch with a hard force, knocking the air out of your lungs as he grabbed the syringe again.

“I have to.”

April 19

Jeno knew that he shouldn’t have waited the next morning to go after his lead on you, but his father had refused to send him out on the same day, which seemed contradictory from his words before. He expected that he would’ve agreed immediately, considering he wanted you back that much before, but it just seemed to change in the matter of a few hours.

There was something off about the whole situation, and Jeno didn’t know if it was just his inner self telling him that something was wrong, or if he was overthinking it all. Maybe your entire disappearance was a whole mystery, which was right, it just seemed all too perfect for it to be real. There was no way that Mark would have been able to track you down that easily, usually if someone went missing from the Lee crew, it would take weeks for them to be tracked down, where they were usually found dead.

What was even more confusing was that someone had knowingly kidnapped you, which was what Jeno still couldn’t wrap his head around. They had contacted your brother from the Park household, so was there a possibility that this was a feud between the mysterious 127 gang that was only a myth from his father’s old stories. Yet they had kidnapped you under his own nose, right beside him with the knowledge that you were taken along with the Lees for a mission, which was something that no one but his team and his father knew. 

“Have you seen Donghyuck?” Mark snapped him out of his thoughts, making him look up from his spot in the lobby. “He said he was going underground for dealing before we went out, but I don’t think he ever came back. I just called him like four times, he’s not picking up and I can’t trace his phone—”

Jeno sighed, shaking his head from his thoughts at the mention of his younger brother as he stood up. “Just hope he didn’t knock up some girl again; are you ready? Shouldn’t we have left like—ten minutes ago?” Mark nodded, looking down at his phone before stuffing it in his pocket.

“Yeah, the rest of the guys are in the van already. Also, Father only gave us one today, I asked him for two but he said we wouldn’t need that many people.” He rolled his eyes slightly at his own words, gesturing Jeno towards the door. “Whatever, I think he wants us to find her because we technically lost her, so we only got five other guys. Don’t tell him I said this but, I think he’s kind of crazy.”

“Like, Y/N just got kidnapped and she’s one of the highest ranked soldiers in all of NCT, shouldn’t that like—ring some warning bells? Shouldn’t that mean we should bring more men? Unless he’s wishing us death.” Mark sounded fed up as he spoke, opening the doorway to the large garage, making his way to the van with Jeno following suit.

“I wouldn’t really be surprised if he wanted us to die,” Jeno mumbled in response, running a hand through his head as he climbed into the back of the—not very large vehicle, sitting beside Mark and his technical gadgets. “But he’s obviously expecting us to bring her back before some war breaks out or something.”

It was true, there would be an easy war started with a small match if the Parks found out that the Lees had lost you, their literal prized soldier. And the worst part was that it be completely in the hands of Jeno, the person who was supposed to fucking marry you. He let out a strangled sigh, placing his head in his hands as the van started its engine, driving off to the destination.

At this point, Jeno wished that he was married to you, rather than looking for you all over the city while having his head, and his brother’s head, on the death toll basically waiting to be chopped off if you weren’t brought back in one piece. Wait, no, why would I want to marry her? She’s a bitch.

He glanced up to Mark, who was hastily working on his laptop with something. Mark liked you, at least from what Jeno was able to perceive, he had seen the way you had calmly talked to him the day before him, in a van similar to this one. You didn’t look like you wanted to kill him, not the way you usually snarled at Jeno whenever he spoke. Mark even called you by your first name, which was weird hearing, considering you and him usually just addressed each other on a last name basis.

It had hit him earlier that day that you certainly didn’t want to be inside of his house as much as he didn’t want you in his house, especially from how you talked so highly about your family as if they were the only thing that mattered on the planet. Well, to you, family was everything. Loyalty was everything, just like you had said.

“She’s not as bad as you think she is,” a voice came from beside him, startling Jeno as he looked over at Mark, whose eyes never left his screen. “I know what you’re thinking. You’ve just been a complete ass to her, even though you’re the one she’s marrying. You know that she was supposed to marry Taeyong, right?”

“Yeah, I—wait, what?”

“I assumed that Father didn’t tell you, clearly from the way that you were, uh, behaving around her. Taeyong was the one who saw Y/N on a mission and told Father he—wanted her, I think? And you know Father, well, he’d do anything for his oldest son. So, he sent a letter of engagement. But Y/N is five years younger than him, so the Parks declined. I mean, they declined but not really, they still wanted the peace treaty, so they said they would give her hand to someone who was the same age as her. And, well it went down to you, since Donghyuck wasn’t, well—considered pure blood.”

So that’s why Taeyong was always lingering near her hallway, so he wasn’t fucking one of the servants. Jeno scratched his head confusedly. “Why didn’t I know this? Wait, how do you know this?”

“Donghyuck told me everything, yesterday actually. Taeyong was kind of—the first person Y/N when she got to the palace, and I swear he looked like he was gonna eat her or something. I knew that he was the one who wanted her in the first place, but he didn’t really seem to care that you were engaged to her, so I didn’t think it was really that big of a deal. He kept trying to go into her room, apparently according to some of the servants, and I even saw him once. But, I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I don’t think he knows that she’s gone...”

Something didn’t feel right, for about maybe the third time in the same day. So Taeyong was the one who wanted to marry you, that explained why you had kept saying you were here because of the Lees. She said it on the first day, that someone in the house wanted her here because they saw her during a battle or something. I thought she was lying—

The van came to an abrupt stop, making everyone lurch forward with a combined yelp. “What the fuck happened?” Jeno called for the driver, who had just survived some serious whiplash. “Hey! Why’d you stop? There’s nothing—”

The backdoor of the van slid open with a quick motion, making Jeno and Mark turn tense up, with Jeno aiming his gun straight at the now open door. His hands loosened as he saw who it was, the familiar man he had known so well taking a step up into the van, kneeling to avoid hitting his head against the top. The rest of the men lowered their guns, looking at each other in confusion as he turned to Jeno, a smirk on his face.

“I knew you would come, brother.”

“Y/N, Y/N, wake up,” you felt cool hands on your cheeks, contrasting from the warmth coming from your body as you heard the recognizable deep voice. Your eyes fluttered a little, opening enough for you to see Jisung, his eyes wide and concentrated on you. “Are you okay? Y/N, wait, wait, no don’t close your eyes!”

You took in a short breath, feeling at your wrists to see that they were free, your arms moving slowly as you tried to control your movements. The memories from earlier surged through your head in one motion, making you force your eyes open at your brother. “Did he inject you? Sungie—did he—”

You let your hand slide down his arm, your eyes falling on the puncture mark in the middle, making you let out a painful sigh. He only gave him one dose, right? That’s why he’s still cold. It wasn’t that much. Right? More means he would end up like me. “Inject me? What—what do you mean?”

As he hoisted you up, you looked around the room, scanning it to see no trace of both Taeyong or that—Haechan guy. With another sharp breath, you let yourself lean against the cushions, feeling completely drained out. “Do you know how you got here? Where were you? H-How did they find you? Did you leave the house for a mission, what happened?”

Jisung shook his head, his hair bouncing around with him as he looked at you worriedly and then looked to the ground. “I—You texted me. I mean, I don’t think it was you anymore, but it was from your number. There were coordinates, and it said that you would meet me—there. I told Mom that I was going underground, and I—took a car. It was the center of Seoul. I went into one of the parking garages, and that’s all I remember until—now.”

You hummed, brushing your hair away from your face as you stood up slowly, seeing the broken ropes on the ground and glancing back at your brother. “You got out of the ties, like I taught you?” He nodded, a small smile on his face as you couldn’t help but feel a little proud, reaching over to ruffle his hair. 

You knew how much he hated when you did that, but he received it with a soft expression. It hadn’t even been too long since you had actually seen him, but it had felt like too long of a time, and even though this wasn’t the most ideal reunion, it was better than nothing. You had really thought you wouldn’t see him for a long time.

“How about we get out of here, hmm?”

previous | next

hi guys, here’s the third chapter! it’s gonna get wow very spicy in the fourth part like VERY SPICY, and i won’t make you guys wait as long this time!! expect the fourth part before the dreamies comeback?!?! i hope this chapter wasn’t too boring because there’s no...action between y/n and jeno but this is important for future chapters!! :) love y’all, stay safe and healthy ♡

[unsaidmar]

One, The meeting.

Plot: Both Spencer and Olivia mourn their losses. Maybe doing it together works best.

WC: 2k, I get carried away.

CW: Brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m very excited to share this. I submitted it for a creative writing assignment last week and I thought I would share it here too. This is the first time I post what I write and I kinda want to make this a series.

Olivia knew pain was lighter on the shoulders when carried with someone else, she was completely aware of the fact that pushing her friends and loved ones away was the last thing you’d want to do when grieving. Didn’t stop her, though. Opening up was a conscious effort she had to make.  

Lia had been gone exactly 467 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last.  Her mom had told her that pain didn’t have an expiration date, that she shouldn’t worry about getting over Lia’s death sooner than she was ready to, but nothing could help the feeling in the back of her mind, the little voice that reminded her that the world did not stop spinning when she left. Even if she felt like it did.

Mornings were almost automatic at this point. Get up, make an effort to look better, grab an excuse for breakfast, promise mamá you’ll get something else on the way to work, drive mindlessly to the place you knew like the back of your hand. The Grey Roots was special, it seemed to transform people’s perspective as soon as they walked in, it was full of memories and knowledge. That much was true for Spencer Reid.

Maeve had been gone exactly 278 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last. The team did their best to navigate around Spencer’s grief, always taking hints the he dropped. A fake smile that meant “we can ignore my loss today”, a shrug accompanied with the ghost of a smile that meant “today I’m feeling better, but I’m not expecting it to last”, and the words “I’m fine, I promise”, that roughly translated to “this is manageable today, so don’t ask me about it”.

The love and sense of protection the BAU had over Spencer was instinctual, which was hard when he seemed to be a thousand miles away while standing right there. Morgan had said that if isolation was what he needed right now, isolation he was going to get, but always with the promise of his friends running straight to him if he needed the comfort.

On his days off, he tried coming to terms with the loss. Loss was a tricky thing, Spencer thought. By definition, it was the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value, so if it meant the absence of something, why did it feel like loss went with him everywhere?

The Grey Roots was a landmark in the man’s life. Maeve had recommended he visit the museum while they were corresponding, which he was more than happy to do, always trying to find a way to feel closer to her than he could actually be. Now his visits changed in nature, he was there to reminisce. To try and get the optimistic feeling of loving her to come back.

The stranger that usually walked around the museum with files in her hands went unnoticed for a while, but to her, Spencer had never gone unnoticed. She had been watching him his last four visits, visits that were a lot closer together than the usual visitors liked, which naturally, sparked her interest. She was drawn to him, always turning her head to check if he was there and her eyes lingering for a beat too long to try and come up with an excuse to start a conversation.

Olivia cared very little about dating and would usually turn down people’s advances, but as he sat there, earbuds in and basking in the sunlight the botanical garden side of the museum had to offer, she couldn’t help but hope he was one of those ballsy men that usually approached her. Apparently, the gods felt bad for Ollie, because as Spencer stood up to go, a book slipped out of his bag onto the floor. Oblivious to it, he kept walking.

“Thank the fucking gods” Ollie whispered to herself as she made a beeline for the book. Trying to reach the tall guy, she elbowed her way through the people walking in front of her and tapped him on the shoulder. Play it cool, dork.

“Hey” she said trying to get her breath back. “You dropped this back there” She tried not to fixate on the way his curls looked with the sun shining directly on them, or on the way his eyes took in her presence.

“Oh, thank you so much” He rushed out, grateful that he didn’t have to lose the last thing that connected him to Maeve and cursing himself for being so careless.

Make conversation, now. Say something. Anything. “I take it that’s important, you look relieved” she giggled to try and appear chill. Failing miserably, of course.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Beat of silence. “It is. It was a gift” He answered looking down at his feet, holding on to the book like it might disappear if he doesn’t.

Now, genuinely relieved she could spare him the disappointment, Ollie looked up at him. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t have to lose it” She replied, mirroring Spence’s thoughts, which made him smile.

To the doctor, looking at her felt almost offensive to Maeve’s memory, like she could see him staring curiously at this kind stranger whose eyes were enticing enough to make him forget how to talk. His best friend JJ was the best at reading his expressions and figuring out what he was thinking, she was smart enough to know Reid felt guilty for wanting to move on and leave the pain behind, so she made sure he knew that no one expected him to act like a widower forever, not even Maeve. After all, no one tells you how long you’re expected to mourn a loss, there’s no unspoken rule of appropriate sulking time. 278 days later still felt like too soon and just about enough at the same time. Strangely enough, he wanted to keep talking to this girl, and it would have to start with an introduction.

“I’m Spencer”

“I’m Olivia, but please call me Ollie” or call me anything you want.

“Ollie, good” he let out a giggle that was uncharacteristic of him to say the least. Mainly because he had never made it this far into a conversation with someone as pretty as Ollie. “You work here” It wasn’t a question, he noticed the plaque pinned to her shirt that read Dr. Olivia Vega, Conservator.

“Yes, I’m one of the conservators here. I know I might not look like it, but I promise I know my stuff” This observation prompted Spencer to give her a once over and he smiled at how right she was. She was wearing black cargo pants and a simple lavender t-shirt she seemed to have cropped herself, her arms were covered with little tattoos and her dark hair had streaks of purple in it. She was a sight to see, and hadn’t she been so kind and smiley, Spencer would’ve been intimidated by her. “My mom always says I look like I dropped out of high school to form my own punk band” She added, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of agree with her now that I think about it, but I have a doctorate in history and that’s not very punk”

“Well, I’m a federal agent but I look like my grandpa, so I’m right there with you”

You do not look like a grandpa. “A federal agent, huh? The wall-climbing, gun-shooting, vest-wearing kind?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit so the work I do revolves around profiling people, we try to narrow down the suspect pool by studying the way the crime was committed and making educated guesses about what kind of person would do that and the possible motives behind it. I also have doctorates, but not in history” He said, glad he could sound cool in front of what appeared to be the coolest human ever. Maeve doesn’t mind you moving on, he repeated to himself.

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t introduce yourself as ‘Doctor so and so, but you can call me Spencer’ I think you’re nice and not full of yourself” Ollie joked. “I would have been super intimidated if you’d lead with that”

Is she a witch or am I thinking out loud? “You should see the people I work with. I look like a 12-year-old boy compared to them” She erupted in laughter, causing Spencer to blush. “I’m not kidding, they call me ‘kid’ and ‘pretty boy’”

They got that right, you are pretty. “No way, my older co-workers call me ‘kid’ too! And I’m their boss. The least they could do is call me Doctor Kid.” She pretended to pout.

A mom with a stroller trying to walk past them made the two realize they were still standing in the middle of the path, so entirely entertained with each other that they didn’t notice the third-grade class that had just passed them. As if the realization had struck them both at the same time, they looked back at each other, both of them trying to stretch the interaction as long as they could.

“Do you, maybe, want to have this conversation somewhere else? Perhaps not in the middle of the crowd?” She asked hopefully.

Taken aback by the offer, Spencer agreed and followed her back to her office, that looked exactly like he would expect it to. A bunch of framed pictures with friends and family covered the wall to his left, she had a jean jacket full of pins hanging behind the door and a bunch of miscellaneous books on a bookshelf right behind her desk, all of them with post its sticking out and what he assumed were her bookmarks.

After offering him coffee, they talked about all the things they had in common and relished on the things they didn’t. It was refreshing to get out of their heads and talk about something other than what stage of grief they were in. Spencer was glad that Ollie had approached him first, otherwise he wouldn’t have met her or even know she existed. A text from Penelope brought him back to reality and he sighed at his phone when he read it.

“I have to go, we got a case” He said, annoyed.

Ollie tried to mask her disappointment with an airy laugh, “Oh those fucking serial killers, so rude of them to interrupt our conversation”

Come on, Spencer. Say you want to see her again. Maeve doesn’t mind. Faster than he could process, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I want to see you again” He declared; eyes wide, afraid he came on too intense.

“Well, what a coincidence. I want that too.” She smirked, thanking the gods for all the love they seemed to be showing her today. She took a bright pink sharpie from her drawer and scribbled her number on Spencer’s palm. “Please, don’t wash your hand before you save the number”  She hoped she hadn’t blown her cover as the chilliest most relaxed person ever with that one sentence that sounded like she was begging him to call her. He took out a little white card from his bad and handed it to her.

‘SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit’. Two phone numbers were displayed along with the FBI logo. Which made Ollie look up to question it.

“Bottom one is my personal line; top one is the work phone” He anticipated the question.  

The shit eating grin he was wearing did not go unnoticed by her friends back at the BAU, but he brushed them and their raised eyebrows right off. This whole thing with Ollie was his to keep. At least for the moment.

That night, even though spent in a dingy motel a few minutes out of Redding, Pennsylvania, Spencer slept better than he had in 278 days. He wasn’t an outgoing person at all, he didn’t ask for numbers, he didn’t agree to have coffee in some stranger’s office, he didn’t text bright pink numbers sloppily written on his hand. But maybe the way they met was a sign that he should, maybe, no matter the outcome, he wanted to see where this led. Not even sure what this was.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey, this is Spencer. I didn’t wash my hand” sent at 2:13 am.

“I mean, I did. Just not until I texted you” sent at 2:13 am.

Back at her own apartment, Ollie made a mental note to go visit Lia so she could hear all about the handsome man she had met. Following the advice her therapist had given her, she took out the notepad she had devoted to the letters she wrote her and started writing what she would give anything to be able to say to her face.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

New Girl. Kuroo Tetsurou

//new girl. kuroo tetsurou//

Warnings: None. 

Word Count: 2.2K

It took you less than a week at your new high school to learn that you hated Kuroo Tetsurou.  He was a serial flirt with too many rumors about his love life that he was honestly the last person that you wanted to befriend.  You would watch him in class, slide in close to some random girl that he knew had a crush on him, give them a few boldly executed flirts, and smirk as they fell even harder in love with him, sliding over the answers to the worksheet the second the request would drop from his lips.  

It took less than a week for Kuroo Tetsurou to take a special interest in you.  You never stared at him, didn’t bother trying to talk to him.  You acted like he didn’t even exist.  But, boy, was he going to change that.  He loved a challenge and breaking your composure to watch you become a flustered mess before him seemed to be the perfect one.  

In your second week, your new friends would laugh at your immediate eye roll at even the slightest mention of his name.  The lunch conversation had drifted to him as your friend sat down announcing that he had been asking about you.  

“What did he ask?!” One of your friends squealed, taking it upon herself to obsess over the volleyball captain for you seeing as you seemed completely disinterested.

“He just wanted to know what I knew about her.  So, I told him.”

“You told him about me?” You groaned a little.  “I was happy knowing that I could’ve gone my entire high school career without him even knowing my name.”

“Sorry, Y/N, but you know how he is.  It’s so hard to say no to him,” she sighed, reminiscing on that perfect moment of the brief interaction.

“What’s so great about him anyway?  He’s hot, but that’s really it.”  You’re waiting for your friends to respond, but they’re silent, staring mindlessly over your head.  “What? It’s true!”

“So, you think I’m hot, eh, princess?” 

You turn to come eye to eye with the infamous boy smirking down at you, his lunch tray with the remnants of his meal in his hands. “Yeah, I do, but so does everyone else.  It’s not like you’ve never heard it before,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you turn around.

“Well, for all intents and purposes, I think you’re pretty hot too,” he whispers, leaning down so you can feel the breathiness of his words against the side of his face causing you to scrunch up your face in distaste.

“Cool, but I don’t need your approval to know that I’m hot.”

“Oh, look at you.  Little miss confidence, huh?  I like that.”

“Again, I don’t need your approval.  Now, can you leave?  You smell like a pre-teen boy who just discovered cologne and it’s giving me a headache.”

This was going to be harder than he thought.

This same behavior was patterned over weeks.  He would ask people about you.  He would confront you, trying to make you crack, and you would just shoo him away like an annoying fly.

“Why do you care so much?” Kenma asked, not looking up from his gamepad while the two sat on the train to get to their respective neighborhoods.

“She’s different.  It’s this exciting, new challenge to see if I can get her to finally crack.”  Kuroo shrugged.  “It’s just fun.”

“I don’t see what’s so fun about using people for your amusement.”

“I’m not using her for my amusement, I-”

“Yes, you are,” Kenma interrupted.  “You’re playing with her emotions so you can get a good laugh when you watch her be disappointed when you tell her that you’re not into her.”

“You don’t know that that’s what’s going to happen.”

Kenma allowed his eyes to leave his game for a brief second to offer his friend a knowing glance.  “That’s what always happens.”

“Okay, what’s your point?”

“Nothing.  But, someone’s going to play your own game against you eventually.”  Kenma stood up from his seat, shouldering his bag.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kuroo,” he said, not even bothering to wave goodbye as he was already entranced in his game once again as the train slowed to a stop to let him and the other passengers off.

Kuroo slid down in his seat, a small groan escaping his throat.  Stupid Kenma and his logic.  He had never thought about his flirtation that way.  It was always just plain fun.  He liked making the girls of the school feel special and he liked to see them get flustered around them.  He never stopped to realize that he was leading everyone on.  Every rejection that left his mouth with an “I’m sorry” attached never meant anything to him and he never stopped to think that he was hurting everyone who came up to ask him on a date.  But it’s just harmless fun.

He rolled his eyes.  It’s not a big deal.  He wasn’t really hurting anyone.  Kenma was just making this a bigger deal than it needed to be.  The train slid to another stop and Kuroo blended into the crowd of people trying to get off and finally go home.  He slipped his headphones into his ears, desperate for any sort of noise to keep his mind from feeling guilty as he made the final stretch home.  

“Y/N!  Look at this frog!” A small voice squeaks off to his right.  Kuroo can’t help but turn his head.  He catches you squatting down next to a boy that can’t be more than eight years old.  The two of you are staring at the ground, examining the frog that the boy had found.  “Can we keep it?”

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be happy living in the apartment.  Now, come on, let’s go home.  Mom probably has supper about ready,” you say, standing up and readjusting your bag.

The boy shrugs, starting to walk off with you not far behind him.  “Did you know that boy back there?  His shirt said Nekoma.”

“What boy?” You turn around to see who your little brother is talking about and your shoulders droop in exasperation as you notice the volleyball captain further back on the sidewalk.  “Sadly,” you say, turning back to your brother.

“What’s his name?”

“Kuroo.  Why?”

Before you can stop him, your brother has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.  “Hey! Kuroo!”

Kuroo’s head snaps up from his phone and he takes an earbud out of his ear.  “Yeah, kid?”

“You know my sister, right?”

He gives you his famous smirk before smiling down at your brother.  “Yeah, I do.  We’re in the same class.”

“Kyo, let’s go,” you say firmly, refusing to take another step towards Kuroo Tetsurou.  This was just your luck.  You couldn’t believe you were so unlucky to live in the same neighborhood as him.  Now he’d probably try to sit with you on the train every morning on the way to school.  You scrunch up your features in distaste at the mere thought of such a thing happening.  

“Where do you live?  I could walk you home,” Kuroo suggests.  Seeing your disgusted look in response to the fact that he would ever suggest such a thing, he stutters over his words, trying to explain himself.  “It’s just- It’s starting to get dark.  And it’s uh- not really safe? For girls to walk by themselves after dark.”  He gives you an awkward smile as he watches your features soften.  So that was it.  The nice guy act. It seemed easy enough.  If it meant that he could get you to swoon over him, he’d do it.

“We’re in the apartments on ninth,” you say, turning away from him and continuing to walk, leaving him and your brother to jog to catch up with you.

For a while, there was just comfortable silence, the cicadas playing their songs to provide the background music to the evening.  “So, why’d you come to Nekoma?”

“My mom got transferred to an office in Tokyo.  Nekoma was just the closest to the apartment.”

“Not because you heard that they have a ridiculously good looking volleyball captain?” He jokes.

“Funny,” you say, rolling your eyes.

As such the conversation continued.  He asked questions, you would answer, a dumb comment from him only to be shot down by one of your snide remarks.  More than once, he caught himself smiling, not just out of politeness either, but because he was genuinely happy.  You were funny and you cared about your family.  You liked to go for hikes, but you couldn’t do that when you lived in the middle of the city.  You missed being able to see the stars and having late night picnics with your friends, counting the shooting stars and making foolish wishes beneath them.  You used to play basketball, but an injured shoulder kept you from playing in your third year.  The more you talked, the more Kuroo smiled.  Not the fake smile that he lets everyone see either.  It was soft and subtle, just a slight quirk in the corners of his mouth that made his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  A breathy sort of grin that he wouldn’t be able to fake if he tried.  This was it.  This is what Kenma was talking about.  This was how every single other girl felt after having the typical teasing encounter with him.  His palms felt sweaty as his nerves start to get to him.  He never expected one brief conversation to ruin his whole resolve, his whole plan, but here he was, becoming a flustered mess beside you.

The conversation comes to an end outside of a door that was being pushed open by your brother, leaving you alone in the cool evening with Kuroo Tetsurou awkwardly running his hand over the back of his neck.  “So, this is it, huh?” 

“Yeap.  This is it,” you confirm, nodding a little.

“It’s uh- It’s a nice place.”

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

Kuroo met your eyes, tilting his head to the side.  “Dropping you off at home?”

“No, I mean,” you pause and Kuroo watches as you search for your words in a series of shifting feet and heavy sighs.  “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the poster child for stereotypical high school jerk?”  Kuroo just scoffs at your accusation.  “Why did you offer to walk us home?”

“I told y-”

“I know what you told me.  I also know that my brother and I have been walking home alone for weeks and have never had any problems.  What game are you playing?”

“Why does everyone think I’m playing some kind of game!”  He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it to make it stick up more than it already did.  He turned his back to you, taking a few steps away.  You could see him biting his nail as his foot tapped up, down, up, down, up.  He groaned, shoving his hands against the railing in frustration.  “This is stupid!  Why do I feel like this?  Why are you making me feel like this?  I’m not the one who’s supposed to be catching feelings here, okay?  You’re supposed to have a crush on me! So, why does my head go all fuzzy when I look at you?  Why do I immediately smile when you laugh?”

“Aw, that’s cute. Kuroo’s got a little crush,” you cooed, leaning on the railing next to him.

“This isn’t fair.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?  Falling in love with somebody who’s just going to reject you with a smile and an ‘I’m sorry?’”  You smirk at him, watching as about a hundred emotions cross his features.

You had done it.  You had beat him at his own game and he never even noticed you were playing.  Kuroo’s cheeks begin to warm and he hides his face in his hands so you can’t see the frustration and embarrassment of finally being bested.  

“How’s it feel, Kuroo?”  You purr, your words filtering directly into his ear, the sensation of your body pressed against his causing his breath to grow unsteady.  He’s pulled from that moment of temporary bliss when you lean back against the railing and smile at him.  “You’re my bitch now.”  The sweet tone of your voice matched the cute smile on your lips, looking genuinely proud of yourself that you had won.

“Okay, yes.  I’m your bitch now.”  Kuroo rolled his eyes, letting himself laugh a little.  Boy, was Kenma going to get a kick out of this later.  He slid closer to you so your shoulders were pressed against one another, his amber eyes cast towards you.  “So.”

“So?”

“So, do I get to take you out or what?”

“Friday.  I’ll see you at seven.”  You push yourself away, moving towards the door to your apartment.  “Don’t be late,” you say, winking at him as you walk inside, closing the door behind you, one smitten kitten in your wake. 

[anotherkindofmindpod]

I just read both interviews, Part 1 and 2 of Jann Wenner's Rolling Stone Interview of 1971. It sounds as though John and the other Beatles DID have a realistic gripe about Paul taking over, directly projects, handing out musical assignments, etc., etc. and I'm sure he had the ego by this point to match! I would probably have become irritated by Paul as well. And no hints or even reading between the lines of John being emotionally hurt by Paul with regard to loss of intimate relationship.

Hello and thanks for writing in, Listener!First, I’d like to point out that we haven’t reached the Lennon Remembers portion of our Break-up Series, and will dig into it much more thoroughly in a future episode (stay tuned!).  

Presumably this ask isn’t in response to anything we’ve actually discussed on the podcast, in which case I feel that I should explain that what we do on our show is reevaluate conventional wisdom and contextualize public statements within the realities of actual behaviors. In other words, not taking things like Lennon Remembers at face value is AKOM 101.

If what we were doing on this podcast was as easy as simply reading the most infamous interview John Lennon ever gave (the one upon which the conventional story of the Beatles break-up is founded), it wouldn’t be much of a podcast or a very groundbreaking analysis, would it?

Second, I’d like to mention that listeners/readers can hear the entire (3.5 hours!) interview on You Tube.  Very evocative with audio!  Wenner’s editing in the print versions often make John sound more coherent and less vitriolic towards everyone but Paul than the audio reveals (i.e. the shitty comments about Paul are always printed but the ones about George, Brian, etc often aren’t).

Next, we’d like to state the usual disclaimer (which everyone is probably already aware of but is a good reminder anyway!):  John later disavowed this interview.  In fact, he was so angry at Jann Wenner for publishing it as a book, it apparently created a permanent rift between the two.  You may choose to view/value this interview as John being super honest, but please consider that in this allegedly “truthful” book/interview, John:

claims George is musically/creatively inferior to John

declares the McCartney album “rubbish”

reveals his belief that he and Paul’s confidence levels are intrinsically, inversely related to one another

says George was so aggressively rude to Yoko that John wished he would’ve punched him over it

proudly admits that he “maneuvered” the other Beatles to get Klein in as manager

bemoans the fact that everyone says Brian Epstein was so great “just because he’s dead” and that Brian cheated and robbed the Beatles

makes derisive comments about “fags” at least five times in the printed version alone and calls Lee Eastman “a wasp Jew, man, that’s the worst kind of person on earth.”

admits to lying in interviews and deflects accountability on the basis of being “just a guy” who mouths off about stuff

As for Paul, John is admittedly all over the place, swinging fairly wildly from nostalgic (reminiscing about having “a good mind like Paul’s” on his side and co-writing with their “fingers in each others’ pies”) to bitter (”Paul thought he was the Beatles,” etc).

As for the accusations that Paul was tyrannical, we’ve addressed these before (particularly in Break-Up Episode 2).  Just as Geoff Emerick, Michael Lindsay Hogg and Doug Sulpy (and even John, when he was feeling more generous) have articulated, we too feel that Paul stepped up and led the band in a time of need and deserves unequivocal credit for that.  We believe much of the subsequent complaining from the other Beatles is akin to the kind of griping one directs at a colleague who gets promoted (“who died and made you king!?”) and while some of it was likely based in genuine irritation at Paul’s communication style, much of it was probably petty.  This is why we are looking at the situation from all angles, to get a better sense of what is reality v. spin.  In any case, we don’t dispute that there were power struggles within the band.Any reader is free to choose John’s side in any/all of these battles.  But our overall takeaway from this particular interview is that John was unloading a lot of pent-up rage; against teachers, fans, Aunt Mimi, his mum, critics, Paul and anyone else who didn’t properly recognize his genius and praise him for it.

“That’s what makes me what I am. It comes out, the people I meet have to say it themselves, because we get fuckin’ kicked. Nobody says it, so you scream it: look at me, a genius, for fuck’s sake! What do I have to do to prove to you son-of-a-bitches what I can do, and who I am? Don’t dare, don’t you dare fuckin’ dare criticize my work like that. You, who don’t know anything about it.”

Based solely on Lennon Remembers, one could reasonably believe John didn’t like anyone but Yoko and Allen Klein (of whom he also speaks with reverence).  Fortunately, John gave a million other interviews in his lifetime, so even though this one is given a disproportionate amount of weight (probably b/c it is the most inflammatory and “raw”) we can compare John’s comments, behavior and art over a broad spectrum of time.  We feel this gives us a better, more thorough and more authentic portrait of John’s POV.  This is a good idea with ANY public figure, but especially important in John’s case, since, by his own admission he has a tendency to say what he feels in the moment and doesn’t necessarily stand by his own statements afterwards.

John in 1976:  “I get a bit absolute in my statements. [laughs] Which sometimes get me into deep water, and sometimes into the shallow.”

To your other point, our overall impressions about John’s feelings regarding  “loss of an intimate relationship” with Paul certainly do not hinge on Lennon Remembers, nor have we ever suggested they do.  In fact, LR is commonly used as the primary proof-point by McCartney detractors and Lennon/McCartney deniers (those who willfully and sometimes passionately  ignore and/or deny the deep love between John and Paul, as described by John and Paul themselves and everyone in their lives) that Paul was a tyrant who destroyed the Beatles with his massive ego.  

We have never disputed the existence of Paul’s ego.  But consider this: John refers to himself as an egomaniac REPEATEDLY throughout this interview.  Why is there a loud faction of people who consider John being an avowed egomaniac perfectly reasonable (sexy even!), but find it unforgivable that Paul is the same way?  Consider these excerpts from Lennon Remembers:

Do you think you will record together again?

I record with Yoko, but I’m not going to record with another egomaniac. There is only room for one on an album nowadays.

How would you assess George’s talents?

[…] Maybe it was hard for him sometimes, because Paul and I are such egomaniacs, but that’s the game.

Who do you think is good today? In any arts…

The unfortunate thing about egomaniacs is that they don’t take much attention of other people’s work. I only assess people on whether they are a danger to me or my work or not.

[Tangential]

But the Beatles were artists, and all artists have fucking’ big egos, whether they like to admit it or not […]

Yes, John rants repeatedly about Paul’s ego during this interview- while he simultaneously declares his own genius and artistic superiority over others. We find it mind-boggling how this irony continues to evade some people, but there it is.  

George Harrison has repeatedly complained about BOTH John & Paul’s egos (and their shared ego IRT “Lennon/McCartney”), but again, this is often ignored in favor of singling out Paul as the villain.  

Furthermore, it’s helpful to bear in mind when consuming Lennon Remembers that John and Yoko had received training in media-messaging by this point and were very savvy at Public Relations.  We know from people close to them that they drafted their stories in advance before offering them to the public. This fact, combined with Lennon’s tendency to “mouth off” means we have the right and responsibility to question and examine John’s claims rather than simply  parrot them mindlessly.

If you are genuinely interested in our take, we recommend our Break-Up Series. We think you will find it well-researched and thoughtful, even if you disagree with some of our conclusions.

Or if you simply dislike McCartney and find him “irritating,” that’s fine too.  Not everyone has to like everyone!

For additional discussion/analysis of Lennon Remembers, I recommend any of several threads on Erin Torkelson Weber’s site, the Historian and the Beatles.

the flawed lens of Lennon v. McCartney

Jann Wenner’s bio

how Rolling Stone shaped the breakup

discussing a podcast appearance

Thank you so much for this ask!  It is always a pleasure to share information.  Have a wonderful day.-The AKOM crew

[babyredriot]

Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes can’t always expect the same behavior

The Bakugo Katsuki the angry man of my dreams turned 16 today. SOOooOOO to wish his goody-two-shoes a happy birthday I have to write an idea I had down. 

~I’m really sorry if this isn’t good this is my first time posting some of my writing, I got inspired by angry bois birthday~

What was the harm of letting loose this weekend with some of your old friends from middle school?

Catching up with old friends always had its perks, reminiscing on the good ole’ days before you had to endure backbreaking training at UA everyday

Before you had to compare your own quirk to your friends every second of the day

Before that blonde bastard made his way into making you feel like the most confused person in all of Japan

Catching up did have its perks, but drinking and letting your mind spiral was a whole different thing

Your friends reminisced on how you were always the one who was destined to end up there, making you feel very gratified

“So Y/N, do you know that green haired kid” Your friend would giggle. “I saw him at the sports festival, is that the boy that you seem to always get angry about whenever we call you?”

Your mind would flash back to the boy being talked about. You wished Midoriya was the boy that was constantly on your mind. It would be so much easier

‘Speaking of Midoriya!’ Your drunken mind would wonder off. ‘He’s training in the woods right now with Iida’

“No, he’s not but if you want to go meet him we can gooo explore the woods. It’ll be an adventure, c’mon lets gooo!”

Your idea was thought to be a very good one from the drunken crowd

You walked into the forest with your arms wrapped around one another singing all of the J-Pop songs that would come to mind. 

“Shitty Hair! I told you that we were going to spar next!”

You froze

nonononononononononononononono

Your friends squealed

“ITS BAKUGOU, FROM THE SPORTS FESTIVAL! OH MY GOD YOUR EVEN HOTTER IN PERSON! WHY IS YOUR HAIR SO SPIKEY?!

shitshitshitshitshitshitshit

hiding behind a tree seemed like the smartest thing to do at this point

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU”

“Hi! I’m Kirishima! Are you guys okay? You smell like two-week old sake.”

“ITS THE ROCK GUY OH MY GOD Y/N YOU DIDN’T TELL US YOU KNEW THE ROCK GUY!”

“Y/N?” Kirishima would say with genuine curiousity

Your whole head felt like it was stuffed with cotton as you felt your puppy dog friend round the tree, and look down at you hiding behind the tree before buckling over with laughter

“Bakugou, you have to come over here and see how drunk Y/N is!”

Your whole body lit aflame with shame as you tried to silence Kiri by standing up and trying to wrestle him to the ground, slapping blindly at his hair and face which only made him laugh more

Bakugo would come over and just stare at you for awhile, making you feel like a small child while your oblivious drunk friends laughed at Kiri who was trying to entertain them now

You were infuriating to him

How dare you not have the same morals as him and work your hardest 24/7 to be top hero when you had so much potential.

He grabbed your arm and would drag you back to the dorms as you would cry out and get very angry drunk at him

“Fucking boomy boy! Let. Me. Go!”

“Where are you taking her?” One of your friends would call out after you two

Kiri would tell them all that Bakugou was just taking you back to the dorms for training. He knew that Bakugou would never hurt you

You would get back to the dorms and be shoved into your room with a now seething ash blonde boy

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!”

“WHATS MY PROBLEM! WHATS YOURS? YOU HAVE EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE IT BIG AND YOUR OUT GETTING DRUNK WITH SOME EXTRAS?”

“I JUST WANTED TO HAVE SOME FUN! LIKE I USED TO BEFORE I CAME HERE AND EVERYTHING IN MY MIND REVOLVED AROUND SOME GOODY-TWO-SHOES, BOOMY BOY!”

He froze as you continued to yell and flip him off. You slowly climbed in your bed and VERY ungracefully passed tf out

The next morning you woke up with a horrible aching headache. You thought about the night/afternoon? before you fell asleep and felt a long groan leave your body

shitshitshitshitshit

You told boomy boy you liked him because your drunk brain said it was a good idea

You rolled over and looked at your bedside table that was adorned with two notes. One that said ‘Drink Me’ and one that said ‘Take Me’, both written in extremely good handwriting

You found a smile growing onto your face, figuring that you knew just who left them for you

needless to say you walked out of your room that morning and found the ash blonde making you breakfast. all while grumbling about how much of an idiot you were. 

“No-one whose that important to me is ever going to do that. Not if you are going to be in my life.”

it was the last time you blew off training for drinking

[allaroundcringey]

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 2 ~ Eavesdropping

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Summary : After a few years John Watson was left no choice but to call his old school mate Amelia Harold. The matter of the call you ask? Sherlock's drug problem. What started out as a simple phone call to help out his friend turned out to be so much more: it gave Amelia Harold a chance to find out who deemed her father guilty of murder. Full of friendship, truth, heartbreak, suspense, and love this story showcases what matters most in life: your friends and family.

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

A/N : Just want to pop in and say that I plan on making a master list for this series once I get a few more chapters posted! Also- I think my schedule for posting will be every Sunday since a weeks worth of time ensures I can put out good chapters. If I feel the compulsion to post earlier than that then I will. Enjoy chapter 2!

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Both scattered across the ground due to the velocity of the explosion, Amelia and Sherlock quickly got themselves back together enough to stand up again. Sherlock looking nonchalant, Amelia was forced to question his odd behavior after such an event.

"Does this stuff just... normally happen around here?"

"Yes. Now if you would show yourself out that would be lovely." Sherlock said, flipping his night gown with his hand and heading towards his room. Before he could make it far Amelia stuck out her hand to stop him from going any farther.

"I'll leave when I please. And you'll be polite to me since I am company of John's. And I don't take bullshit from anyone especially from Sherlock Holmes. Understand?"

With a silent nod and look of defeat Sherlock sat back in his chair. Amelia could have left when he told her to since she had no reason to stay but she could not stand Sherlock being rude to her again. The main thought she held was how John was able to put up with such a creature.

In an attempt to clear the silence, Amelia spoke up. Sherlock clearly had the same idea since he started to speak at the same time. With an awkward stare, Sherlock spoke up again.

"Why are you so sensitive about your father?" He said bluntly. In truth he didn't mean for it to sound condescending but like many other things he'd said, especially that night, it did.

"How about you learn to shut your mouth and understand that not everyone is an open book. You definitely aren't." Amelia replied with a scoff.

"I only meant to make conversation." Sherlock snapped. Amelia had had a big enough dose of Sherlock for the night (if not a lifetime) and decided to see herself off. Wondering whether she should say goodbye or simply leave she decided on the latter to avoid more tension.

On her way down the stairs making her way around the corner, she caught a glimpse of Sherlock from where he stood near the window. He looked almost lonely. No, he definitely looked lonely. Contemplating on if she should go back up there he caught her staring and immediately put on a facade and slammed the door shut.

~

Today being a day off work, Amelia made her way straight to 221B that morning. She peculiarly found that this morning had been the easiest for her to awake since the traumatic events in her early adulthood. Not wanting to acknowledge the sudden, and frankly scary, change she blocked out the thoughts by what today could hold.

Hopefully John could finally have a moment to sit down with her and explain what he had phoned her for in the first place. What on Earth could Sherlock possibly need from her?

Hailing a cab outside her flat she knew that soon enough she would find out.

~

Pushing her way past the emergency crew outside 221B, Amelia found herself walking up the steps almost as if she had been there many times before. 221B had that affect on people.

When she arrived to the sitting room she found a new face sitting in John's chair. Sherlock of course was sitting in his own chair and John was standing near the desk.

"Hi, did I walk in on something? I'll come back later if you'd like." Amelia spoke directly to John, avoiding the curious gaze the new man cast upon her.

"No it is totally fine. I was just wrapping up anyway. Mycroft Holmes, pleased to meet you." Amelia could tell the smile he put on was fake, and he simply just wanted to get on with the matters that brought him there.

"Amelia Harlod."

"Are you John's girlfriend?" Mycroft asked which received a howl of laughter from John and Amelia.

"Oh my goodness you think I would want to be with this lad?" Amelia laughed, pointing her thumb at John, gasping for breath.

"Mycroft we've been friends since primary school only having recently reconnected again. Nothing of the relationship sorts." John explained so Mycroft could understand.

"Oh. Sorry to imply anything." Somewhat embarrassed, although trying to hide it the best he could, Mycroft turned back to Sherlock. "Maybe you can get through to him John. Or even possibly you Ms. Harold. Sherlock I don't think you understand how urgent this case is."

Tuning out since she felt it wasn't her place to listen, Amelia looked on at the damage that was caused to the flat due to last nights events. All of the previously skewed decorations were truly thrown all over the place now. She questioned whether it was safe to be in the flat at the moment but decided either way it didn't matter. She would have gone in no matter the answer.

Drawn away from her investigation of sorts, she found that Mycroft was getting into the details of the case he wanted Sherlock to take.

"Andrew West was found dead on the train tracks this morning." He stated.

"Tried to kill himself?" John questioned, even though that seemed self explanatory.

"Seems like the ovbious solution but no. West was believed to have held the plans for a missile defense system that are on a memory stick. These are now missing."

"That's not very clever."

"Assuming they have any brain's, it's not the only copy." Amelia added into the conversation, with a look of approval from Mycroft.

"Yes. Indeed that is the case." Turning his attention from John and Amelia he faced Sherlock. "You need to find these plans brother. Don't make me order you."

"I'd like to see you attempt that." Sherlock answered with an eye roll.

"Think on it." Mycroft insisted, that seeming to be his goodbye to his brother. Walking towards John he shook his hand and said his departures to him.

"Goodbye Ms. Harold it was nice to meet you. I hope I'll be seeing more of you." Mycroft added then promptly left the flat.

Annoyingly Sherlock played an ear splitting tune on his violin to match Mycroft leaving.

As soon as Mycroft was out of ear shot John started in on Sherlock. "Why did you tell him you've been busy? Your schedule is completely free to the point it's making you go mad."

"Why not?"

"So it's a rivalry between you two, a sibling rivalry? I wouldn't put it past you." Amelia thought out loud.

"You've known me for a day don't make assumptions." Sherpock answered, dragging the 'day.'

The ringing of Sherlock's phone started cutting off the argument that was bound to happen if the conversation lingered. He immediately picked it up and extanged a few words with whoever was on the other side.

"Ah. How could I say no." He hung up the phone and got up from where he was sitting to leave the flat. "Lestrade called to summon me. Are you coming John?"

"Yeah I guess so." John stuttered throwing a questioning look towards Amelia not sure what to do.

"Oh don't stand there looking like a lost puppy. Come along if you must." Sherlock said frustrated. Amelia wanting to say no just to retaliate but realizing she had no other plans for the day was forced to listen to him, and she followed the consulting detective and blogger out the door.

~

Not returning to the flat until late that night, the three of them were simply exhausted. Sherlock didn't bother to make conversation before heading straight into his room and closing the door behind him. Not that he would have in the first place. Finally having a moment of silence to speak, Amelia and John sat in the sitting room. Sherlock not being there to reprimand her, Amelia sat in his chair.

"I'm sorry it's taken so long to sit down together." John sighed as he sank into his chair.

"Nothing to worry about. I actually had a bit of fun today." Shifting in the chair so her elbows rested on her knees she looked directly at John. "I know you wouldn't have phoned me without a purpose. Not to just catch up."

"I'm sorry for that too. I know I should have called earlier not just when I needed you. I hope you can forgive me because truly I am so glad we are talking again."

"John of course I forgive you. It's my nature to not stay mad at anyone, you know that. Now tell me what you need because I'm getting impatient." Amelia replied with a light laugh.

"It's not widely known to the public but Sherlock tends to not have the healthiest of coping mechanism. Particularly when he's bored."

"Like he was yesterday."

"Yes, exactly. I know that when things with your father went down," Amelia took a sharp inhale at the mention of him as John continued on, "you experienced some of the same things. To put it bluntly I was wondering if you could help Sherlock get over his drug addiction. He says he can easily do it on his own and all other sorts of excuses but something that complicated can't be done by yourself. I'm sure you would understand."

"You would understand also. You were always there for me." Amelia commented with a sad smile, reminiscing on the past.

"I know it's a lot to ask and if you think it will be triggering in any way-" before John could finish Amelia cut him off.

"Even if it is I know how to handle myself. And I can see that you clearly care for Sherlock a lot. And although I don't want to admit it, I see why you care. Of course I'll help in anyway possible."

"Amelia you never cease to amaze me. Thank you again." John said as he got up to hug Amelia. Only staying in the hug for a moment, they released each other when John spoke up once again.

"I know you don't love talking about it but you do know if you need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to your father you know you can come to me. Right?"

"Yes John. I appreciate it." Amelia sighed, which then turned into a yawn.

"You can stay here tonight if you'd like since it's late. Cabs don't usually circle around here at this hour."

"That would be lovely John."

"You can have my bed if you'd like." John offered gesturing towards the upstairs bedroom.

"Well now, that would just be confirming Mycroft's suspicions John! The couch is just fine in all seriousness. Now get to bed." Amelia lightly slapped John across the shoulder in an attempt to shoo him off. After an extange of goodnights, John was off to his bed.

Alone again, Amelia sat on the couch and rubbed her face with her hands. After all these years it was still hard to openly talk about her father. Not wanting to think about him longer she gingerly laid down on the couch, calling it a night.

~

After he heard the final noises of the couch moving, Sherlock sat up from where he was on the floor next to his door with a hard look on his face. Eavesdropping was a bad habit of his. After learning the new information on Amelia and that her intentions were truly good he felt remorse for treating her rudely. He wasn't sure how to make up for his actions. In typical Sherlock fashion he didn't feel comfortable or right saying sorry. Deciding to sleep on it, Sherlock laid down in his bed. Alone again.

[darks-ink]

Commission for @pyre-9! A crossover between Danny Phantom and Psych.

---

Absentmindedly crossing the street, Shawn considered the situation he found himself in. Working a case all alone, in an unfamiliar city. No Gus to rely on.

Sure, he could handle the investigation himself, but it just wasn’t the same without Gus. They were a team for a reason!

He continued walking. According to the people he’d asked, his destination should be glaringly obvious. The Fenton household was apparently rather recognizable. It was also a bit of a mess, based on the warnings people had tried to give him. “Don’t go there,” they’d said, until he explained that he was an investigator, that he needed to talk to Danny Fenton.

A bright light caught his eye, and he stopped to take it in.

Well. People definitely hadn’t been wrong about the Fenton house being easy to find. What a sign!

Shawn quickly made his way over, running over the details of the case again. What he wouldn’t give for a Gus, who could keep all this stuff straight for him. But, alas, Shawn had come to this city for a food festival, not a murder investigation, and Gus hadn’t been able to come. Maybe if they had known that Psych would find a private client, Gus would’ve been here, but that obviously hadn’t been the case.

No point in reminiscing about it, though. Game face on, and go!

He rung the doorbell, plastering on his serious detective face. This was a murder they were dealing with. Serious business!

The door swung open, a teenager looking out. Male, messy black hair, visibly tired. Surprised to see him.

“Good day, Mr. Fenton,” Shawn introduced himself, a grin creeping onto his face. “I’m Shawn Spencer, from psychic detective firm Psych. And you are Danny Fenton, witness. Can we talk?”

“Uh…” The boy glanced behind himself, grimacing. Strange behavior. Suspicious. “Sure, I guess, if we can talk outside.”

Freaking out, almost paranoid. Very suspicious. But no clear reason… “Why?”

“You clearly haven’t heard about my parents,” Danny snipped back. Definitely tense, definitely freaked out about something. “They’re… kinda crazy. Ghost hunters. Very paranoid about strangers.” The boy paused, then tacked on, “And they will jump in and start blathering on and on about ghosts.”

Well, that seemed to line up about right with the advice all those other people gave him. “Right. Of course. Outside, then?”

Danny nodded, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. “So, um. You’re here for that murder, then?”

“Yes. You were the only person who witnessed it all happen, Mr. Fenton. What can you tell me?”

Narrowed eyes. Still suspicious, still suspecting. This kid was hiding something, that was for sure. “Aren’t you supposed to already know that? Since you’re a psychic, and all that?”

Ah. A skeptic. Shawn paused in walking to turn towards the boy, placing one hand against his own temple.

“I’m having a vision! Hmm…” He frowned slightly, turning his head down like he was processing it. “Yes, I see… Mr. Fenton, let my rephrase my earlier question. Who else was there, besides you and the victim?”

“A couple people, I guess.” Danny shrugged, playing off the fib. “No one was really paying attention to the victim, I think, besides me.”

Shawn hummed. The last bit was the truth. “How well did you know the victim?”

“I didn’t,” Danny answered truthfully. “I didn’t know him.”

He was switching wildly between honesty and fibbing. Remained suspicious.

“You are aware of the way the victim died?” Shawn asked, and Danny nodded. “Did you see anyone near the victim?”

“Um, a couple of people, I guess.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Definitely a nervous tic, that. “It was kind of chaotic.”

The first part was so-so, but the latter was the definitive truth. This was someone used to lying, although to someone less trained at picking apart said lies. How strange.

One thing was clear, however. There was definitely something going with this kid. He made an effort to answer all of Shawn’s questions, but fibbed on a select number of them.

Well, it was better than the little his client had given him, he supposed. The man had only been able to offer Shawn a name, and a useless one at that. Seriously, he knew that he was supposed to be psychic, but who could find a person with just the name Phantom to go off?

“What can you tell me about the prime suspect?” Might as well go for gold and ask the kid, right? If this “Phantom” was there, then Danny might be able to tell him a little more about the guy. “About Phantom?”

Danny grew, almost impossibly, even more fidgety. “How much do you know about him already?”

“Just tell me the whole story. You’re the witness, after all.”

“Right. Um.” The hand went back to rubbing his neck. “Well… He’s a ghost. Phantom is generally considered to be the protector of Amity Park, fighting off other ghosts, but not everyone agrees with that. Some people think he’s just a pest, because he’s a ghost, and all ghosts are bad.”

Always with the ghosts, huh? The kid sounded like he was telling the truth—or believed he was telling the truth—but he remained worried, remained fidgety. His secret was related to this Phantom person.

“Ghosts, huh?”

Danny laughed, relaxed visibly. “Yeah, I know right? Although I guess they’re not that surprising for a psychic.” Well, that was very pointed. “Amity Park is the ghost capital of the US for a reason. We’ve got tons of them, at all times. It’s almost impossible to stay in this city and not see them.”

How encouraging. How delightful. Why had Shawn even come to this city? The festival hadn’t even been that good!

“Hm. Well, thank you for your time.” Shawn stopped walking, offered a hand to Danny. “You were a big help today.”

“Yeah… Good luck with the investigation, Mr. Spencer.” The kid took the offered hand and shook it. Danny’s hand was almost concerningly cool in his own.

He watched the teenager turn back around, walking back in the direction they had come from. In his mind, Shawn was running through possible theories. One thing was clear to him, however. Danny Fenton was no ordinary witness. In fact, he might be a suspect. Might’ve worked with this “Phantom”.

He needed more information.

---

A flick of movement caught Shawn’s eye and he stopped. The sidewalk had been completely empty; it was getting late.

Was it just him or did the air feel colder, all of a sudden?

Someone was next to him. Someone who hadn’t been anywhere near him, before that tiny bit of movement.

Shawn turned to look. A kid—a teenager—male, with astonishingly white hair and overly bright green eyes. Floating. Glowing.

Well. Wasn’t that something? Ignoring the discoloration—the wig and fancy lenses—it was easy enough to recognize the kid.

“Mr. Fenton,” Shawn greeted him. “Back again?”

Danny flinched, then started fidgeting. Pulling on the edge of the white gloves he was wearing. And wow, wasn’t that an outfit? “I… Call me Phantom when I look like this.”

Did he just— Did he really just go and confirm himself as the prime suspect?

Shawn opened his mouth to point this out, but Danny cut him off.

“Look, I can explain what happened, okay? What you asked, earlier, about who was present… It was just the victim, me, and the ghost I was chasing. Skulker is enough of a pain normally, so I was kind of focused on keeping up with him. And yeah, he passed kind of close by someone, but I didn’t really think too much about it, since Skulker doesn’t usually care about anyone but me. But then the guy started collapsing, and I realized that Skulker had sliced him up.  A distraction for me, I think.” Danny shrugged, an unsettled expression on his face. “I tried to help, but there was— there was nothing I could do. And I heard people coming, so I… I distanced myself and shifted back, and said I saw the whole thing go down.”

Not a lie in the slightest, as much as Shawn hated it. “And this… Skulker?”

“I caught him.” Determined, harsh. No hesitation. “First thing I did when everyone left. I have him captured still. Not sure what to do with him now. Can’t exactly hand a ghost over to the police, can I?”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” He supposed it was a job well-done. It’s not like the client will care that Shawn wasn’t the first to figure out who the perpetrator was; they wouldn’t have listened to Phantom anyway. “I will go inform my client, then. If they want more they can take it up with you.”

Shawn turned around, satisfied, to continue walking towards his client’s house. So the kid was floating, glowing. So the temperature had dropped when he’d approached Shawn. So what?

A cold—freezing cold—hand caught his shoulder. Shawn jerked, but the fingers dug into his shoulder, forcing him to turn back towards Danny.

“You’re not really a psychic, are you?” Danny asked, in a tone of voice that made it clear it wasn’t really a question.

Shawn shrugged off the hand. “Like you don’t have your own secret to keep.”

“Touche,” the kid said, grinning slightly. “Guess we’re at a stand-still.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Shawn straightened himself up. Ignored the niggling feeling of danger that emanated from Danny.

“What, so we keep the other’s secret for our own sake?” Danny hummed, thoughtful. “I guess that that’s alright.”

Danny moved back—like a step backwards, except he just… glided. Floated? “See you around, Mr. Spencer.”

And then he was gone, like he’d never been there in the first place.

Shawn took a slow breath, a bracing breath. Turned back towards the client’s house. He could tell them it was a job well-done, and be satisfied with that.

And he would never ever come back to Amity Park, food festival or not. Ghosts? Never again.

[iscariotsdeputy]

Analyzing Staci Pratt’s Character Arc

    Julian Bailey once said, on February 13th, 2019:  “Yeah, Staci has a real character “arc” and he’s way more complex than he lets on at the beginning…”. And I, Sam, your local Staci Pratt enthusiast, am here to explain why Staci is a deeper character than everyone’s favorite douchebag son. Now, you may look at me and say, “Sam, you dumbass, it simply ain’t that deep.”, to which I say you are completely valid, but you can and should bear with me here for a second. And yeah, you can reblog this if you wish.

    Far Cry 5 opens in the small, backwoods locale of Hope County, a completely fictional place in Montana that’s actually inspired by southern Montana. Early on, it’s set up that there’s this heavily armed religious group that has taken roots in Hope County. And guess what? The cops are doing absolutely nothing about it. That is, until one fateful 2:37 AM. The Hope County Sheriff’s Department and one U.S. Marshal have decided to finally arrest Joseph Seed on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm.

    Now, as you sit in the back of the chopper with Sheriff Earl Whitehorse and U.S. Marshal Cameron Burke, two Deputies sit up front, flying the ‘copter and pressing buttons like it’s nobody’s business. Their names are Joey Hudson and Staci Pratt, for the intents and purposes of this post, I will be focusing on Staci Pratt.

    Not much is known about Staci Pratt pre-game, except for the fact that an NPC says “Deputy Pratt always came off as a bit of a douchebag, but that doesn’t mean he deserves what Jacob’s doin’ to him”. Throughout the first cutscene, you can occasionally hear some wise cracks from Staci, and although less noticeable, Staci does mess around with Joey up front, offering her his flask and whatnot. Now, Staci’s wise cracks come in the form of hazing the Rookie Deputy (“Maybe we shoulda brought Nancy along with us instead of the Probie. These Peggies wouldn’t fuck with her”) or disrespecting Joseph Seed (“Crazy motherfucker”).

    If you think that Staci calling Joseph crazy is the only time Staci is disrespectful to his elders, you’d be incredibly wrong. Now, it’s not exactly “disrespectful”, but it shows a moment of doubt that Staci has towards the orders of Sheriff Whitehorse. When Whitehorse tells Staci to set down the helicopter, Staci does nothing at first. He just keeps the helicopter completely still and doesn’t move it. He’s completely silent too. Staci does nothing until Whitehorse says “Pratt” and Staci quickly says “Roger that”, like he was snapped out of a thought. So, this is where we set up Staci’s character arc:

    Confusion. Staci’s character arc is moral confusion and also confusion of one’s identity. As of right now, let me quickly state who Staci is: A guy who’s a bit of a douchebag and he doesn’t believe in a word that Joseph says.

    Let’s fast forward to when the Rook eventually goes to the Whitetail Mountains. When you reach these mountains, more often than not, you will hear THIS BROADCAST before you see Staci again. Now, you may say, “Sam, he could’ve just been reading this”. And yeah, definitely, he was reading. The way he stumbles through it and says it so blankly is a very obvious way to say “Yup, that’s false emotion”. So, if I were to put it on a timeline, this had to have been recorded when Staci was first taken in. Maybe within the first week or so of his capture. But, something I didn’t realize at first when I listened to it. Basically, the whole time, it sounds rehearsed. It sounds faked. It sounds like Staci had a gun to his head. But then get to the end. Around 1:10. Please listen close to when Staci says the phrase “Train, Kill, Sacrifice in the name of The Father and The Project at Eden’s Gate”. You hear him, right? Suddenly, he lights up. Suddenly his voice is more gruff, more emotional, more angry. Those cue words, that phrase, and Staci is there again. No stammer. No blank slate. Those are words that Staci believes in.

    So, no matter if he doesn’t believe in Joseph normally, as soon as he hits those cue words, his heart is into whatever’s conditioned along with it.

    While you’re running around the Whitetails, you’ll hear some NPCs talk about Staci.

My favorite thing is that a few people say “Friends might not be friends after Jacob’s done with ‘em.”, “He might never come out of it. The very least he’ll never be the same guy he was before. Not ever.”, “There’s not much of the old Deputy Pratt left. Jacob made sure of it.”

    Alright folks, now we’re at the first time you see Staci in person again. Actually, it’s entirely possible from this clip that Staci is the one who carried your sorry butt to get conditioned. Now, it’s harder to notice because Jacob Seed may believe in culling the weak, but he doesn’t believe in proper lighting: Staci has scars. Staci is roughed up. He went from THIS to THIS. That is the reverse of a glow up. That’s a blow up. In this scene, Staci gets one line: “You shouldn’t’ve come for me. You should’ve run.” Also, the minute Jacob shows up, Staci literally runs to get in his spot. He runs to the back, gets out of Jacob’s way, and just stands there. So, in the time that Jacob has gotten his hands on Staci, our douchebag Deputy has suffered some major wounds to his pride. Believes both Rook and Him were both better off by leaving Staci in the mountains.

    BUT HEY HE GETS MORE LINES IN THE CONDITIONING SEQUENCES HA HA GOD I’M IN PAIN.

    Hey, hello there, welcome to the Time Break (Part I). What’s the Time Break, you ask? This is where I shamelessly yell about Staci’s voice lines because some of them don’t really fit into a specific point in time (You hear them after you free Stace, but these are just like “hey fun fact Jacob eats a kitkat bar the wrong way i wanna die” reminiscing things) , but they really just reveal facts about Staci’s mental state. Hint: It’s not good.

“Jacob took me on one of his hunts. Only we weren’t huntin’ any animals. A couple of prisoners had escaped. They didn’t get far.” FROM THIS AUDIO

Can I point out how at the end of this line, Staci laughs a lil bit? His voice lightens like he’s amused.

Also, Jacob took Staci on a hunt. It sounds like it was just the two of them hunting people down. I feel like it was a way to “”””reward”””” Staci and get him more chill with pulling the trigger on helpless prisoners.

“I had to help round up the wolves. Y’know, to be made into Judges. They were so scared. So scared.” SAME AUDIO AS ABOVE

This is fairly self explanatory, but yeah, this poor man had to round up scared, whining wolves and lead them to their deaths, essentially.

“I had a dream once that Jacob took me on a hunt. We shot some deer and he asked me to skin ‘em. As I was cuttin’ them open, they changed. It wasn’t deer. I...I don’t think it was a dream.” THIS AUDIO

STACI PRATT HAS SKINNED A HUMAN BEING A HUMAN PERSON A REAL ASS PERSON NOT A DREAM LITERALLY SKINNED A PERSON ALIVE Okay, in all seriousness, I believe Staci was going through his conditioning, which is why they changed. Or, worse, Staci hallucinated it in order to justify his behavior. Either way, Jacob Seed stood and watched as Staci skinned somebody alive under the pretense that he was just skinning a deer.

Finally, here’s Staci singing Only You   

    Hey there, buddy. Welcome back from The Time Break. Now, let’s keep moving right along through Staci Pratt’s suffering to the next cutscene, again, this is a one line scene. It’s when Joseph comes to speak with Rook about sacrifices and Rook wakes up to hear Staci “They want you to be strong. One of you will be strong.” And once again, Staci finds himself interrupted by Jacob and as soon as Jacob gets there, Staci moves to stand right in Jacob’s line of sight. First he stands on the right of Jacob, but when Jacob turns, Staci rushes to be on Jacob’s left so Jacob can still see him.

    Now, let’s go to the next scene where Staci has no lines, but he’s there so let me analyze those body expressions and movements. Pardon my French, but Staci is doing his fucking best here. Like, poor dude has to rush to give Rook their mystery meat and then has to shave Jacob’s beard, then washes Jacob’s hands, and then hands the canteen over to Jacob. The most interesting thing here is the whole shaving nonsense because Staci has a literal knife to Jacob’s throat. Staci has a knife, right there, and he doesn’t slit Jacob’s throat open. He doesn’t kill Jacob, even though he has a very good opportunity. Why? The poor bastard was conditioned to believe that without Jacob, he had no purpose. Jacob is the leader. Jacob is strong. Staci can’t do it. Staci is subservient to Jacob in every way. So no, Staci isn’t going to kill Jacob. Staci is lost without Jacob.

    Are you guys ready to commit treason? STACI SURE IS. BUT FUN FACT, I WHOLEHEARTEDLY DON’T THINK STACI THOUGHT OF IT HIMSELF. Let me run through the whole scenario real quick. Staci sneaks out, avoids the guards, goes to Rook, frees Rook, tries to warn Rook about their conditioning, and then shoves Rook onto the truck to free them. Staci thinks he’s being a hero. Staci thinks he’s doing something on his own, but he’s not. Now, why do I think Staci didn’t think of this himself? Because Staci said it himself.

    He (Jacob) gets in your head.

    Now, please tell me, how Staci would evade capture? He yelled at another prisoner that they weren’t strong. He alerted the Judges there because they started barking when Staci freed Rook. Also, it’s funny how there are no guards out there in the cage area. Nobody watching the prisoners. And how there were no guards that caught Staci and Rook on the way up to Jacob’s office. And that Jacob wasn’t in his office. And that there is a bag of weapons there that anyone would have noticed. Jacob sees everything, we learned this early on. He has security cameras everywhere, just like Eli. Anything Staci did, Jacob or a guard would have noticed. And yet, the alarm finally sounds off just as Rook is about freed. And when you wake up, the truck is all abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Staci was set up. Jacob orchestrated that and let Staci run through the motions.

    It was a test. And Staci failed. Staci was weak and traitorous. And we all know what happens to our traitor…

    He’s strapped to a chair. He’s publicly humiliated on TV. He’s strapped to a chair in a cold, wet, dark bunker. He is left to die. He will starve and dehydrate. He will rot. When he passes, his body will get thrown to the wolves. And the video ends with Staci crying to help. And guess what?

    When you find Staci again. It turns out that he has been listening to that video for days, it has to be less than 7 because he would have dehydrated by then, most definitely. Imagine if you were in his spot. Imagine if you were left to die and all you got to listen to was a video of you being called weak and traitorous, and then you crying for help and crying for Jacob to not leave you there. It’s awful. It’s horrendous. And it leads to a major change in Staci Pratt.

    When you meet again, Staci says the line, “Rook, are you real?”. This indicates that Staci had been sitting down there, having hallucinations about Rook and other people. When you free him, he falls to the ground. When he gets up, he says that he was weak. He says that maybe he deserved to die, to starve, to be stuck down there. Then, he takes a sledgehammer, and surprisingly after starvation and dehydration, through that sheer adrenaline and strength, he takes that hammer and smashes everything in sight. Then he takes a gun, says he’s strong and that the people who made him strong are now weak. And that they must be culled.

    WOW THAT’S BAD, HUH?

    YOU KNOW WHAT THIS CALLS FOR?

    Welcome to Time Break (Part II). Now, we’re going to see some of Staci’s lines that happen after you free him and get him to the Wolf’s Den.

“We could’ve died. We could’ve died. And maybe..Maybe I deserved--NO, NO, STOP STOP! The weak! The weak must be culled!”

“Maybe we didn’t survive that crash. Maybe all this is purgatory. We have to atone for all the shit we’ve done before we can leave this place. We have to suffer before God will grant us salvation.”

“Train, hunt, kill, sacrifice.”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“Jacob. His experiments. He takes us. Owns us. Speaks to us. He hears us.” THIS AND ALL ABOVE IT IS THIS AUDIO

“He was right! He was right! I knew it! I fucking knew it! Shit, Jesus, help us…”

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” 

“Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” (This happens when the bombs go off)

“It’s just gonna get harder. They want an offering. A Sacrifice.”

“I’m trying. I’m trying my best, you have to know that.”

“The whole time I was locked in that room I just kept thinkin’ about how I got here. Y’know why I became a cop…To get laid! That was it! It was a whim! And then after a while I tried to convince myself that I did it for the “greater good”. To help people. But I can’t. I know that now. Jacob taught me that.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. I don’t even know who I am.”

“I...I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now. Protect and serve? Out here? There’s no law anymore, Rook. Look around! Someone shoulda been here by now! Nobody gives a shit about what’s happenin’ here. We’re on our own. Survival of the fittest. The weak and the strong.”   ALL OF THAT WAS THIS AUDIO

If you resuscitate Staci, he says “You’re like my Guardian Angel!” 

Alternatively, if Staci’s in pain, he’ll beg The Father to stop his pain.

“This place...do you know what it is? A protector from what’s to come. But it isn’t inevitable. He said to me that you could stop it. But only you, Rook...Only you...But if you don’t...if you don’t listen...if you don’t...We’re all gonna die. Either down here or up there. It won’t matter. We can’t stop it...The Father...He sees what’s coming...He’s right…” FROM HERE

“Nobody’s gonna take anything from me again. Ever.”

“You see that, Jacob?! Who’s weak now?!”

“I’m alive, but I’m weak...weak. Need to be strong. We are meat. We are all meat.”

Also here are four fun videos of what happens when you initiate combat with Staci Pratt: ONE    TWO   THREE   FOUR

    Now that we’re free from the final Time Break, let’s talk about the end of the game. First things first, let's talk about the common factor between the two endings, the confrontation with Joseph. This is when Rook turns and sees Joey and Staci forced down on their knees with guns to their heads. Joseph says that you can go in peace and there’s this exchange between Joey and Staci Joey: Go in peace? You’re fucking insane. Staci: Is he? We never should’ve been here in the first place.

    Then, in the Resist Ending, as he sits in the back of the car, Staci screams a Hail Mary and then he yells about how Jospeh was right. How Joseph was fucking right. Also, Staci is sitting right by Joseph as he screams that all, so you know Joseph hears him.

    Now, to the Walk Away Ending, as soon as they’re let go, Staci is shaking as he gets up and has his hands up to show he isn’t a threat. His back is hunched and he makes himself look small and he’s literally shaking like a leaf. Joey and Earl fight and he rushes to get in the truck. Staci sits in the back with his hands in his lap and staring at the floor. He stays silent until Whitehorse brings up coming back and fighting again. And all he does is say “No. No way. I’m not gonna be a part of this. You heard what he said.”

    I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, I really do, but I’ve realized that I seriously need to come to a conclusion here. So, let’s go back to where this all began. We started with Staci Pratt, the douchebag cop who had wiseass remarks to every situation. Though Far Cry 5 follows the arc of a young, Rookie cop who faces something they were never prepared for, there is an arc to Staci Pratt’s character and it’s a path of confusion and not knowing who he is or where he belongs anymore.

    One of the first things Staci does is insult Joseph, and by the end of this story, Staci Pratt believes in Joseph Seed and the Project and culling the weak. Staci’s character arc is so much breaking and breaking and breaking and then being rebuilt in the visage of the Project. In an essence, Staci develops and destroys himself at the same time. Pardon me for a pun, but Staci Pratt is a far cry of the man he once was. As Whitehorse and Joey still fight for the Resistance and loathe Joseph, the same cannot be said with Staci.

    He believes is Joseph, but all of his friends are in the Resistance. He is every single one of Jacob’s lessons, beliefs, manifestos, plans, all shoved into one person. He is a living legacy of the man who orchestrated Eli’s murder and yet he’s sitting there in the Wolf’s Den. And yet, he was treated like shit in the Mountains. He was treated as lesser. Even, throughout this all, Staci’s belonging is a topic that really has no proper place.

    When Jacob Seed said that Staci would die in the bunker, he wasn’t wrong.

    The old Staci Pratt died a long time ago, and now there’s a new man living in his place.

[plumoh]

[NatsuYuu] left behind

Word count: 1678

Summary: Natsume Reiko has to deal with the consequences of her grandfather's doing, namely letting youkais barge into her life.

Note: AO3 link. Day 3 - role reversal for @natsumeweek!

One-shot: left behind

“Natsume-sama! Please help us Natsume-sama!”

Two youkais coming from the mountains beyond Yatsuhara are running, making more noise than necessary to attract the attention of the person they've traveled to see. They abruptly stop and bow down, not wasting any time to voice their request.

“Our territory is being attacked by outsiders, please drive them away!”

There is a long silence, sizzling with confusion, then replaced by mild exhaustion. The sigh is heavier in this quiet space.

“Yeah, I'll see what I can do, but no promises. I have other things to do.”

A round calico cat snorts from his perch on a branch, drawn by the commotion that spiked his curiosity, as usual. The youkais lift their heads, an open expression of surprise on their faces that betray their disappointment.

“You...?”

Long pale hair flutters as a hand pushes it back behind an ear, and a slow grin forms on a curled mouth.

“I'm afraid I'm not as gentle as my grandfather.”

***

Natsume Reiko leafs through the Book of Friends with inexplicable fascination. Sometimes she'd trace the writings with her fingertips, summoning the image of the youkai who held the pencil or the brush to carefully inscribe their name in something that was beyond their expertise. She tries to imagine each one of them waiting to meet again the human they've given up their freedom to—a lot of them, she learned, don't repay kindness with kindness, and will seek more opportunities to abuse it.

“Surely he knew that youkais aren't friendly,” she complains one day after returning a name and nursing a headache from the incessant chatting of the nearby youkais who won't leave her alone.

“Believe me, I told him over and over he was wasting his time,” Madara huffs, licking cookie crumbs off his paws. “Takashi was a fool.”

Reiko isn't one for sentimentality, and has no experience in detecting the inflection of someone's voice depending on their emotions (she herself can't express them). She still somehow manages to hear unspoken words behind Madara's gruff remark, lodged in his throat and unable to come out because there is no point in releasing them.

Against her will, she laughs.

“I guess he was.”

***

“You mean you wanted to become his servant?”

Misuzu's eyes remain unchanged as does his mouth, like he's frozen in a perpetual grin that goes with his high status. His frogs are jumping around Reiko, croaking and being a general nuisance.

“I do not think that 'becoming his servant' was what Takashi aimed at when he asked,” he clarifies with a lilt of mirth. “I simply believed that it was easier to watch over him should he peruse the power he was granted.”

To be honest, Reiko is certain that her grandfather didn't care about the advantages that the Book provided him, and by the look of things, so did Misuzu. There is no way that youkais submit themselves to humans willingly—she can't imagine any of them hand out their name like it's a mere entrance ticket to friendship.

However, that seems to be the case for most of those youkais who smile and joke and reminisce about someone whose life might as well have been nonexistent in their almost eternity.

“He was alright for a man, I suppose,” Hinoe cackles, draping her arm around Reiko's shoulders and bringing her closer, much to the human's disgruntlement. “Fortunately he brought me a cute granddaughter!”

“You are all so weird,” Reiko groans, pushing Hinoe away. “This isn't what I thought I'd get myself involved into when I received the stupid book.”

“Then make your life shorter so I can get it.” Madara swipes at her ankle, and she follows with a harsh nudge with her foot that sends him rolling down.

“I still have some dignity, losing to a cat isn't an option.”

Madara goes on a rant about being magnificent and deserving much more than what he's currently given, so Reiko tunes him out as she sips her juice and eats the berries a youkai gave her as thanks for something that Natsume Takashi most likely did. Surrounded by these creatures she grew to view as a thorn in her side, sharing stories and discussing of what qualifies as foolish like they were her own circle of acquaintances, she can't envision what tomorrow will be made of.

***

She's always slept with a weapon of sort next to her pillow to protect herself. It started with a ridiculous toy sword she borrowed from the son of the family she was living with, then a bundle of sticks she collected on the way home, then a soccer ball hard enough to break a wall, and now she grew fond of the baseball bat she found lying next to a sleeping youkai. She never actively went after youkais since they came to her, but the one she followed of her own volition was forced to teach her what they knew about spells and incantations. It was the least they could do after their kind kept harassing her for stupid favors or claiming she would make a delicious meal.

She thought it would stop after meeting Madara, but it only became worse.

Natsume Takashi, her grandfather, were he still alive, would be hearing a piece of her mind for attempting to befriend every single living creature in this world.

Shunned by everyone around him and mocked for his inability to fit into society on top of seeing a world that was invisible to others—Reiko understands he might have left behind the humans altogether to seek comfort in people who wouldn't judge him. She can't wrap her head around his desire to forgive, though.

“Nobody treated him right,” she says to Madara, who feigns disinterest. “A lot of youkais didn't, too.”

Madara is probably just as bad as her at perusing the spectrum of emotions, if not worse; the face of a cat does limit his possibilities, but Reiko is certain that there is much he doesn't tell.

“You understand why he was so stubborn about meeting youkais, don't you?” he retorts with that knowing look she tends to avoid glancing at. “Well, I'm assuming you're smarter than he was.”

You're awfully gentle even if you're insulting him, Reiko wants to say, but just like how she can't admit she still fears she'll wake up from this reality and go back to a life of misery, she can't point out the obvious aching in her friend's heart.

Youkais who come to her thinking she will solve all their problems like her grandfather did often end up bruised and nursing a wounded pride, after they lose to her little games. She much prefers seeing what they are made of before deciding if they are worth her time, and if they deserve having their names back.

(Whether Takashi knew the nature of the contracts remains a mystery, but either way she can't shake off the feeling of loneliness whenever she so much as lays eyes on the Book of Friends.)

“I really don't understand his way of thinking,” she mutters.

Madara lets out an ugly laugh. “Nobody did.”

***

She chases after a youkai to retrieve a trinket they stole from a weaker spirit, and when she does catch up to them she swings her bat and whacks them on the head. The effect is immediate and the thief collapses, whining and complaining about the great power of the holder of the Book of Friends, and Reiko simply chuckles.

“Yeah, we're pretty strong in my family.”

She doesn't ask permission to get back what she came looking for as she plucks it right from the youkai's hands, then turns around to leave. Madara seems to appear from thin air for the only purpose of mocking her.

“You sure put a lot of effort in this one, for someone who doesn't like being used.”

She waves a hand, having learned by now that rising to Madara's baits aren't really productive for either of them.

“I needed the exercise anyway.”

Reiko looks at the cloudy sky, feeling the first drops of rain fall on her nose. She catches movement on her left, and sees the youkai who asked for her help timidly extending a hand. Her lips automatically curl into a soft smile, as she gives the item back.

“Thank you, Natsume-sama,” the youkai bows. “I have one more favor to ask.”

“Your name is in the Book, right?”

There is something particularly strange in taking the name of such a fragile-looking youkai, who probably doesn't even interact much with other people. Takashi has collected names without discrimination, like he expected them all to accept their predicament or the friendship they were offered.

Reiko is different.

“I'll hurry up. I don't want to go home too late.”

Being drenched is a feeling she despises above all (bringing an umbrella wasn't always a possibility), but feeling the trained eyes of Touko-san looking for any signs of sickness never gets easier. Reiko didn't know that someone could be filled with so much love to give, especially for someone like her, who terrorized invisible monsters and drove away those who everyone pretended not to see.

She walks under the safety of a tree's leaves and pulls out the Book of Friends, closing her eyes. The pages flicker and turn, a single one standing out for her to cradle and bestow. She sees warmth, she sees mischievousness, she sees life; she sees everything through the eyes of someone who could have helped. She grasps what loneliness being washed away feels like.

“I'm giving your name back. Accept it.”

She might never understand what her grandfather wanted to do, by leaving his memory everywhere he went. Madara might never forget the gaping hole he can't fill with food, however hard he tries. The youkais might never figure out the amiable behavior a human showed them.

Reiko opens her eyes to the universe of kindness Natsume Takashi has left her, for her to find her way and discover the hidden side of a world she's always hated.

[nothingidputbeforeyou]

Do Not Go Where I Cannot Follow

- fic under the cut, wincest set during early season 3

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432360

Evelyn saw the boys first. No surprise, really. Evvie liked to wake up before her sister and take a stroll around the cemetery, clear the cobwebs from her mind. That saying always made her laugh now. It had been one of her favorite sayings in life. In death, it could be taken very literally.

She had finished a full circuit of her final resting place, stepping over fallen stones and through thick weeds that flourished since the last caretaker had retired 30 years back. A full moon sat low in the sky, not fully risen, huge and orange. As she stopped to take it in, a crashing came from the underbrush that grew wild along the old county road. A howl rose up that would have chilled her to her very marrow if she had any marrow left to chill. Not that she was scared of this rueben. He couldn’t even see her let alone hurt her. But that didn’t stop her from getting a few goosepimples at the sounds he made. She saw the monster silhouetted against the moon and clucked her tongue. She’d seen this fellow before, twice in the past two months. He’d taken to hanging out, looking for the teenagers who invariably wound up here daring each other to sit on The Sisters’ Bench or sneak into the mausoleum.

The beast ran within a foot of Evvie, eyes wild not with the usual bloodlust but with a very human fear. Out of the same thicket came two boys. Not boys, really. Men. Big and handsome, both of them. Evvie had only been about 5’4” in life and the taller of the two dwarfed her by a solid foot.

The other one, no Tiny Tim himself, ran by her pistol in hand. “Flank him, Sammy!”

“On it!” The big man put on a burst of speed and caught up with the wolf effectively boxing him in along the side of the old Straker mausoleum. Cornered, the creature snarled and bared its teeth, obviously preparing to launch itself at the neck of the one named Sammy.

“Do it and you’ll be dead before you get one paw on him, fuzzbutt,” the other man’s voice was as cold and hard as the barrel of the gun he had trained on the creature.

It froze for a second as though considering the words then shook off the hesitation and sprang.

A shot rang out, just one, and the thing slumped to the ground, transforming as he fell into a rather nondescript man in his 20s.

“Did you see that, Sam? One shot, right to the heart.”

“Yeah, Dean. I was standing right here.”

“So you saw how awesome I was.”

Sam sighed. “Yep.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say I’m awesome.” The one called Dean was clearly still buzzing with adrenaline, grinning like a madman.

“Fuck off, Dean. I have burrs stuck all over me from those bushes we ran through and I ripped my shirt. I don’t really feel like indulging you right now.”

He was so focused on picking burrs out of his hair that he didn’t see Dean move towards him like quicksilver, sweeping his legs out from under him, bringing both men down to the moss-covered ground. Sam let out a surprised gasp as Dean wound up on top of him, pinning his arms above his head and smiling down at him with the purest expression of love and need she’d ever seen.

Oh, thought Evvie. So that’s how it is.

“Get off me, dick.”

“Make me, Sammy.”

Sam shifted his hips slightly arching up against Dean. Dean’s eyes went wide and frantic. Sam took advantage of Dean’s moment of distraction by wrapping one of those long legs around Dean’s torso and flipping him onto his back.

“Okay, sasquatch. You win. I get it. Let me up.”

Sam pulled himself up and offered a hand to Dean who was a little slower getting to his feet, possibly due to the amount of subtle adjustments he needed to make to his pants.

Just when things were getting interesting.

Dean turned and saw the stone bench that connected Evelyn’s own gravestone to her sister Lydemia’s. He plopped down and developed a sudden interest in retying his shoes probably to hide just how happy certain areas of him had been about the wrestling.

“Dean. Did you seriously not listen to anything I read to you about this place?”

“What? Of course I was listening.”

“Really? Then why did you just sit on The Sisters’ Bench?”

“The what now?”

“That stone thing you parked your cute ass on just now? It’s not just a bench. It connects the graves of two sisters. Lydemia and Evelyn Whitmore. See? Evelyn was younger but she died first in a car accident. The sisters were what people called spinsters. In their 40s, never married, no kids, lived together their whole lives. After Evelyn died in 1949, they say Lydemia killed herself. Couldn’t live without her. The bench says ‘DO NOT GO WHERE I CANNOT FOLLOW’ right here on the edge and if you sit on it during a full moon, the legend says that you won’t be able to get up until morning. Or until the sisters release you.”

“You know that’s probably just one of those legends kids tell each other so they can sneak out here to check it out. Then blah blah blah heavy petting.”

“So why not check it out right now? Try to stand up.”

“Okay but after I show you that I can get up, no problem, I get heavy petting.”

“Hey, I’m fine with that. Are you?” Sam’s eyes held a challenge.

Dean avoided Sam’s gaze and stood. Or tried to. His legs tried valiantly to lift him but his posterior stayed planted right where it was.

“Oh for fucks sake. The ONE TIME a stupid legend is real and we found it.”

“That one Crybaby Bridge out in Washington was real too. Remember?”

“What the hell, Sam. My ass is stuck to a stone bench and you want to reminisce?”

“Just saying. Anyway, no one has ever been hurt on this bench. If they’re dumb enough to sit here during a full moon-” Sam shot a dimpled grin at Dean “-they just stay for awhile. Until they get released or the sun comes up. I’m not sure why the bench lets go of some people early but…”

“Because they’re annoying.” Evelyn’s sister whispered in her ear. “And I don’t want to deal with them for one more second.”

Evvie shivered at the husky timbre of her sister’s voice. “Good evening, Lyddie. Did you sleep well?”

“I did until some four-flusher ran across my grave. Was it these two?”

“No. Or rather yes but only because they were chasing that scoundrel.” Evvie pointed at the dead man lying a few feet away.

“My stars. Would you look at that, Ev. He’s in his birthday suit.”

“I know. But before he was in the all-together, he was wearing a wolf’s skin.”

Lyddie’s dark eyes twinkled behind her cat’s-eye glasses. “That maroon? They got him?? Well, bless their hearts. No more dead teenagers bringing the coppers out here. Guess I should let him up then.”

She moved towards the boys but Evvie snaked out a hand and stopped her, pulling herself up to her full height. Ev might only have been 5’4” but that still gave her 3 inches on her older sister. “DON’T” she yelled.

Lyddie looked taken aback “What’s with you, featherbrain? You want me to leave him stuck there? Why? So you can look at him?” Lydemia’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the man on the bench. “Hmph. A pretty one. You always were a sucker for a pretty face, Evelyn.”

“I went on ONE DATE with Burdette, Lyd. ONE. You KNOW that.”

“”I do know that, Evelyn. Because he was killed in that tragic accident shortly thereafter.”

“You dropped a tractor on him. Some accident.”

“He tried to force himself on you! It’s hardly my fault that when I went out there with daddy’s old shotgun to have a little talk about his behavior, he was working on his tractor, got spooked by the gun, and kicked the jack out.”

“I’m sorry. I feel bad for bringing that up again. I know you’d never...”

“No, I definitely would have dropped a tractor on him but the good lord and Bud’s own stupidity beat me to it. Anyway. If it’s not the view, why don’t want me to let this one go?”

“Oh. Yes. Because they seem to have a few issues that they don’t want to discuss. Maybe a few hours trapped here will cure them.”

“Issues?” A confused look crossed Lyddie’s lovely face.

“I think they’re..well. A little lavender, if you will? And maybe they’re having a problem dealing with it?”

“Oh please, Ev. It’s the 2000s. Plenty of people are gay, even way out here in the middle of nowhere. We’ve seen that much with our own eyes.” she smiled at her sister mischievously. They both enjoyed watching the couples who came here to neck and it didn’t matter what gender those people happened to be. It all broke up the monotony and passed the time.

“Maybe so but something isn’t right. They’re obviously in love but they’re holding back, refusing to talk about it. A little push might be in order.”

Lyddie turned back to where Dean sat on the bench still trying to pull himself to his feet. Sam looked on, clearly amused by his plight. “Great idea, love.”

She disappeared in a blink and while Evvie watched, Sam spun around startled before sitting down hard on the bench next to Dean.

“Lyd! I didn’t mean you should push him!!”

Lyddie reappeared at Ev’s side. “Really? Whoops.” She winked at her sister in a way Evelyn had never been able to resist and Evvie found herself laughing.

On the bench, Dean turned to Sam “What just happened?”

“It felt like someone spun me around and then pushed me.”

“That’s what you get.” he said petulantly.

Sam looked out at the graveyard thoughtfully. “Guess the sisters really are hanging around.”

“If that’s the case, they clearly like me better. I do love ladies with discriminating taste.”

Sam’s snort was scornful. “Like you care.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Need me to spell it out? Okay. You love pretty much any woman who so much as glances your way.”

“Are you calling me a slut, Sammy?”

“If the boots-with-2-inch-platform-heels-that-you-wear-so-you-won’t-look-way-shorter-than-me fit…”

Dean’s face was mutinous but he clamped his jaw shut..

“Well, there’s your answer, Ev,” Lyddie said quietly. “Dean can’t keep his willy in his pants. Sam’s mad about it. That’s not something a good gabfest is going to fix.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Feels like there’s more to it.”  She turned her eyes back to the boys. Dean was regarding Sam with an earnestness that clutched at her heart.

“Look, Sam...you know we can’t do this. You know why we can’t do it. So what...I’m supposed to be a monk? Can’t have sex with you, can’t have sex with anybody ever?”

“Who said you can’t have sex with me? You can! Hell, you HAVE.”

Evvie’s eyes were glued to the boys as Lyddie pinched her arm with glee and whispered, “I am so sorry I ever doubted your motives for keeping them here. This is good.”

“One time.” Dean looked furious. “One slip in all this time. And you DIED not long after that. I think that’s the universe sending me a pretty clear message, don’t you?”

“I didn’t die because we had sex, you idiot. I died because I got stabbed... Wait a minute. Is that what you think? That I got killed to...what? Punish you for fucking your brother?”

The two spirits observing gasped in perfect sync.

“Sam died?” said Evvie just as Lyddie said “They’re brothers?”

“Dean. I died because of the demon. And Jake. And mom’s deal. And a thousand other little things that led up to that day. Having sex with you? Not one of those things. It’s not connected. You know that, right?”

Dean refused to meet his eyes so Sam reached out, physically turned Dean’s head his way. “Do you know that, Dean?” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper now and Dean leaned towards his brother, maybe to hear him better, maybe not. Maybe it was a gravitational force pulling them together from the moon, from the bench, from their hearts. Who could tell?

“Can I pop up and push their heads together, Evvie? Please?”

“What? No.”

“If you let me, I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“You know what? Fine. No popping though. You’ll ruin the mood. Just a gentle shove.”

“Poo. You’re such a stick in the mud.”

Lyddie disappeared again but this time Ev could see her outline against the boys. She was reaching out to make them kiss when they finally caught a clue and did it themselves.

“Ahh,” Evvie let out a happy sigh. “True love.”

Suddenly back at her side, Lyddie laughed and grabbed Ev’s hand. “Nothing like it.”

“Nothing.” She leaned in and kissed her sister softly.

“Hey, Ev?” Lyddie murmured a while later.

“Now you’re ruining this mood, Lydemia! For heaven’s sake, what is it?”

“I never let them up.”

“What...oh goodness. I guess you’d better…” she looked past her sister’s form at the two men twined together on the bench and smiled.

“No. They’re doing fine. It’ll be morning in another hour anyway. And I have plans for you before then, dear sister.” Evvie grabbed Lyd’s hand and pulled her away. She looked back and was surprised to see Sam staring directly at her. He could obviously see her. Which meant he knew exactly what had transpired here. She smiled and gave a small wave. He grinned back, dimples in full force and mouthed “Thank you.”