#but then just. finding out there’s a song about grieving a dead little girl on that same album as that song she adored

[longleggedsocialist]

at this point god actually wants me to kill myself

[orshii]

Will I Ever See You Again? CHAPTER 3: Bad Decisions

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader

Warning: cursing, violence

Word count: 4,1 k

Summary: You were left alone with your brother, Yunho, and his best friend Hongjoong, after your parents' death. Yunho had someone to grieve with, but you? You had no one as your brother and his best friend pushed you away, singing becoming your only savior. There was one rule that Yunho made inside his friend group: “Don’t touch my sister”. And for this reason, Hongjoong had always kept his distance. But one night, you find yourself in danger. And from then on, Hongjoong does not leave your side. He is suddenly overprotective of you, and your relationship shifts and becomes fraught with tension and unspoken feelings, with secrets lurking beneath the surface and a painful past haunting you. Will you find out the secrets your brother and best friend have been keeping away from you? Will you be able to finally free yourself from your cruel past?

Will you fall in love amidst the chaos around you?

A/N: Uhh...sorry it took me so long to update but I have to write my thesis as well and I hate it...I just want to write anything except that pls:'(...so things are slowly unfolding in this chapter, and they are getting closer a little hehet. I am not 100% satisfied with this chapter but it is what it is. I hope you like it tho. Enjoy reading! :') <3 p.s: I'll try to update sooner, but I can't promise...also listen to this song, as it is included in this chapter. tyy, byee.

Taglist: @bvidzsoo @vixensss @deltamoon666 @scarfac3 @chatsgotmytongue

@xiang-zalea @cookiesandcreammy <3 (taglist is still open)

  I was at Mist, sitting in one of the chairs opposite the stage, I was listening as another band was playing, Yeosang was sitting next to me, and we were waiting for our turn. I really tried not to look to my right side as the girl from yesterday night, was clinging to Hongjoong, they were sitting on a sofa pulled next to the wall. I side glanced at them at the same time when Hongjoong leaned close to the girl, grabbed her chin, and kissed her slowly. Suddenly he opened his eyes, just to look at me with fiery eyes, which made my heart rate speed as he still kissed the girl. That poor girl did not know, he wasn't into her. I just locked my eyes with his, not leaving it for even a second, as he imagined me in the place of the poor girl.

I thought of our kiss the other day and to be honest I don't really remember. I have only some little flashbacks in my mind, as he was looking at me, fighting with his thoughts, and kissing me. I don't know, what came into my mind that night, I can blame it on the pills and the alcohol, but if I'm honest I just wanted to play with him. I like to break the rules, and I like to break people, my intention was only to break him because I knew he wanted me, he just couldn't and I made him do it. I don't care if it makes him feel bad, I was long gone in caring about other's feelings. I didn't care about my feelings then why would I do that with others?

Darkness hugged me again as I stepped on the stage. This is the state where I step into another world, leaving behind my problems. When I'm in the dark before the lights turn on, I feel like I'm me, I'm myself for minutes, letting my emotions break free and when the lights turn on, I just give my soul to the music.

I leaned close to the microphone to start singing my feelings out.

♪ There's a war inside my head

Sometimes I wish that I was dead, I'm broken ♪

At first, only Jongho followed me with the drums, sounding like thunder. Then Yeosang joined us, leaving little sparkles behind with his guitar like a fairy.

♪ I'm tired of trying to be normal

I'm always overthinking

I'm driving myself crazy

So, what if I'm fucking crazy ♪

The beat started to slowly quicken as San followed the loud drums giving power to the songs as I sang my soul out, leaning forward to let my voice out.

♪ Just 'cause you say I'm crazy

So, what if I'm fucking crazy

I'm gonna show you ♪

I sang as my eyes met with Hongjoong's, the girl next to him hugging him, then leaning to his ear and she whispered something to him. But Hongjoong looked only at me the whole time, our eyes attracted each other like two black magnets. He was holding a can of beer in his hands and glared into my eyes like he was obsessed with me like he wanted to watch me for eternity.

♪ Loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath

I'm gonna show you

Yeah, I'm gonna show you crazy ♪

I sang as Hongjoong’s words echoed in my mind from the night he kissed me.

‘You are crazy’

Loud clapping woke me up, stepping back into real life, as the four of us stood in one line to bow for the crowd. I think this was one of our best performances. I loved it, felt like I was finally alive, and felt like some life crawled through my veins after a while.

As we finished our performance, we gathered together to celebrate. However, our moment of triumph was interrupted when strangers began to approach our table, offering congratulations. We were so surprised by the sudden attention we got. A tall guy came to me and congratulated me as we cheered our glasses together, and when I drank the sweet whiskey, my eyes met again with a familiar one, he stared at me as I couldn't read his face, the girl still clinging to his side.

I lifted my glass towards him into the air, lifting my eyebrow cheering my glass in the air, then I drank the remaining alcohol from my glass, as he watched my whole scene, his eyes sending me red warnings towards me as to stop it. I don't know what cruel game are we playing, but this suddenly seemed like who's gonna be more jealous.

≫The lights were never showing your face

Darkness took over you as fate≪

It's Friday finally, and we were done with classes as we walked home with Yeosang until we said our goodbyes and parted ways. I searched my headphones from my backpack and I let the music flow through my body, feeling every inch of the melody.

The sun beamed down warmly, a welcome contrast to the cold winter that had gripped the town. Spring crawled slowly through the world, bringing life into our little town with some beautiful flowers, the wind blowing away the remaining cold and slowly the sun warmed up the ground giving hope to the plants. Spring is always the time when I think it brings hope to the people's hearts as well. A hope for a better life, a hope that gives you the power to keep going, the feeling of hope, to never give up.

Lost in my thoughts, I navigated the familiar alleyways on my way home, accompanied by the music echoing in my mind. Suddenly all I felt was that I was being pushed against a wall a strong hand on my throat and all I saw was a man in front of me shouting at me, I couldn't hear him as my headphones were still on. My breathing started to quicken I didn't know what was happening. The guy, who still squeezed my neck as I slowly wasn't able to breathe, grabbed my headphones as he realized I didn't hear him.

"Fucking shit are you listening to me?!" The man said angrily, his voice low as he suddenly released my throat. He was wearing a black mask I only saw his dark eyes; he seemed young.

"What the fuck do you want?" I suddenly got some courage to speak as my voice was a bit raspy from the neck grabbing.

"I need you to deliver a message to your brother and his little friend." He stepped close to me pushing me against the brick wall.

I remained silent as he continued. "Tell Yunho that we know who he is, we know whose son he is, so stop doing whatever he is planning to do. Or next time we won't be nice, this is his last chance." My heart started to beat so fast; I was afraid it might jump out of my chest. What did he mean by 'I know whose son he is'? Why the hell did he mention my father? Who died three years ago, not knowing how. Why the hell did he bring him up?

"What do you know about my father?" I demanded; my voice tight with urgency.

"Ohh." He laughed. "He died as a hero, sacrificing himself for you and your brother." The guy smirked in front of me while talking about my father. "Didn't you know it? Your brother kept it from you, didn’t he? Keeping you in a cage to not find the truth." He slowly caressed my checks. I felt disgusted as he touched me. I couldn't control myself anymore, there were too many emotions swimming through my mind, and I just lost control over myself.

"Fuck you!" Adrenaline boiled through my veins as I suddenly spat on his face and punched him with all my strength. He suddenly held his right cheekbone where I hit him, his eyes filling with anger as he pushed me against the wall and suddenly slapped my right cheek. I felt as blood streamed down on my face, just like sad tears.

The guy was surprised by his actions as he stepped back.

"I don't want to do it again so, please tell Yunho." He told me this like he regretted hitting me and just ran away.

I was just standing against the brick wall, slowly slipping to the ground, staring at the opposite wall. Emotion drained from me, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake. Tears escaped from my eyes, which I didn't even realize, mixing with my blood slowly drying on my face. I just couldn't believe what this guy said.

Did Yunho really know how our father died? Why did he keep it a secret?

Why won't he tell me anything?

So many questions, yet no answers to be found.

Suddenly I felt pressure from my throat as I started coughing, leaning to my right side as my lunch came back, landing on the ground. This brought me back a little into real life as I realized I should go home.

Lost in thought, I resolved not to involve Yunho. With determination, I made my way home, he wouldn't tell me the truth anyway, so I needed to find answers myself. I arrived home and I quickly showered, washing away that fucker's touch from me, the dirt from his hands.

I planned to search for some evidence, for anything which is going tell me something about all of this shit. I stepped into Yunho's room; I knew he wouldn't be home until late at night. I looked around in agony, not knowing where I should search. I thought it was good to start with his laptop, I sat on his bed and opened his laptop, there wasn't a PIN code, he is such a basic human. I searched through his files and opened a few, but there wasn't anything. Just when I saw a suspicious folder, I heard the bell ringing, it was angry, and someone pushed it continuously.

"Shit." I closed the laptop quickly and ran down; on my way, I grabbed a cap and organized my hair so the wound on my cheek wouldn't be seen. Whoever was it I didn't want them to think Yunho may hurt me.

"Coming!" I shouted to whoever was in front of the door, to stop ringing that bell, my head hurt enough already.

I opened the front door and saw a furious Hongjoong standing there, not waiting for me to fully open it, he stepped inside pushing me aside.

"Where's Yunho?" He asked walking around furiously.

"He is working, he'll be home only at midnight," I said looking at Hongjoong as I tried to understand what was happening.

"Fuck." He said running his fingers through his hair and mixing the two colors of his hair.

"What happened, Joong?" I started to feel worried a bit.

He suddenly stopped, and that's when I saw his face. Which was all black and blue, some fresh cuts on his lips, on his eyebrows, the blood long dried. On his cheekbone, there was a slight cut, that seemed to be made with a sharp knife. I gasped at him as I pressed my palm to my mouth.

"Just don't ask, please." He said as he saw my expression.

Fuck this isn't good. "At least let me treat your wounds, please." I looked at him concerned.

He just nodded, so I took his hands carefully to lead him into the kitchen. He sat on the stool next to the kitchen counter, so he was now a little shorter than me. I searched for the first aid kit and when I found it, I stepped between his spread thighs, he then locked me with his thighs pulling me closer to him. I looked down at him concerned when I gave his wounds a closer look, my cap still hiding my eyes.

I pulled out a sanitizer and cotton from the box so I could treat him. Silence took over us as I was pouring some liquid on the cotton and slowly, I reached it into the wound on his right cheekbone, just where mine was. He hissed a bit from the contact, but his eyes never left my face, as he analyzed my behavior. I didn't dare to look into his eyes, I kept my focus on his wounds instead, moving the cotton to his soft lips, which were wounded now, he parted his lips so I had more access to them. When I was done with his lips, I moved forward to his left side, as I felt his hands carefully squeezing my waist. That was when I looked at his hands and his knuckles were bruised as well, from the defending. He tried to look into my eyes, leaning down so he could see my eyes, as I reached the cotton to his red knuckles that screamed, he did not let himself fall for even a second. I hid behind my cap, as I felt his sharp glare.

"Why are you hiding?" He got suspicious and reached his hands towards my cap. "Don't hide your beautiful eyes, sugar." I grabbed his wrist, preventing him from taking off my cap.

He just looked at me, slowly figuring out something was off. I had no time to react when he quickly pulled off my cap, revealing my face, which really wasn't a big deal. But he made it like it.

He just stared at me, with round eyes, looking at the little red wound on my cheek.

"What the fuck happened, Y/N?" He stood up, I saw his body suddenly start to tremble, his blood was boiling.

"It's nothing, really, Joong please, just calm down," I said slowly feeling terrified seeing this Hongjoong.

He stepped closer to me until my back hit the fridge. Cold ran through my back, spreading through my whole body. He held my jaw carefully, tracing his thumb over the little red wound.

"Who did this to you?" He asked in a low tone; I never heard him like this before. Suddenly I felt like I was in front of the Devil.

"Did I ask who did that to you?" I pointed at his wounds.

"That doesn't fucking matter, Y/N!" He shouted suddenly. "Who was it tell me! I'm going to kill them." He hit the fridge next to my head. I squeezed my eyes shut from the sudden impact, starting to breathe heavily. I wasn't scared, I was terrified seeing him like this. But I knew his anger didn't tend towards me. He was pissed because someone hurt me.

"Hongjoong, you are scaring me, please calm down." I looked at him as tears started to appear in my eyes.

He looked at me, surprised, then stepped back from me, leaving me with a cold feeling. "Shit" He rubbed his palms into his face, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's happening to me." His eyes were full of regret. “When something happens to you, I can’t control myself, Y/N!”

I sighed, feeling the weight of the encounter. “It was a man,” I confessed, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn't see his face, but he had a message for you, " I said looking down at my hands, I tried to remember what he exactly said. "He said something about that plan, to tell Yunho to stop it because they know who he is and shit like these…and…he said something about my dad Joong, they know how he died, do you understand?" I was so confused I didn't even know what was I saying as I started to tear up.

"Fuck, they don't know shit, don't believe them, sugar." He stepped closer to me, to peck my red wound on my cheek. "I think those who attacked me were from the same gang." This was the first time he said some information to me. "Let's wait for Yunho and we'll figure it out." He said caressing my cheek slowly.

≫When your dark side leaves

I'm falling for you deeper≪

I nodded. "Let's drink something." I suddenly offered, trying to break this tense atmosphere. 

Hongjoong frowned at me. "Really?" I saw a little smile appeared on his lips.

"Yeah, I think we can use some, nah?" I turned around to grab two wine glasses.

"I guess." He said watching me as if I might disappear at any moment.

Pouring out the red wine, its hue resembling blood, I made my way to the living room with the bottle in hand. Hongjoong followed me and sat down on the other side of the couch. I looked at him, after sipping the red liquid from my glass.

I tilted my head looking at him curious. "Do you ever smile? I never saw you smiling?"

Well—that was a lie, but I never saw him smiling because of me.

He suddenly chuckled at my question. Oh My God, and that was the sweetest melody I ever heard. He hid his lips behind his palm. "Yes, it happens, sometimes."

His face grew serious as he drank from his glass, downing it in one go before pouring another. I did the same as he poured into my glass too. He turned towards me and laid his head on the back of the couch.

"Do you know you have beautiful eyes?" My heart started to race all of a sudden. "It's mysterious like a dark forest." He looked at me with sincerity. I think the alcohol already hit him. It was funny seeing him like this.

"Oh, so you are a Shakespeare now?" I said teasing him. Downing the wine from my glass to reach for the bottle to pour another, he did the same as I poured for him as well.

"I was a Shakespeare all my life." He said as he closed his eyes and smiled. His sudden smile caught me off guard. Was this the same Kim Hongjoong who had been shouting at me just moments ago? "I write music since…I don't know a long time ago."

I was surprised at that. "Really?" I asked as my face showed how surprised I was.

"Yea" He stared at his hands. "I wrote some for bigger companies."

"Wow, I didn't know," I said respectively. "That's really a big achievement."

He lifted his head to look at me. "Thank you."

"Recently…I don't know, I kind of write something in my mind, but I never wrote it down, and… it may sound weird but I hear a melody as well, which I never heard before. I never tried writing something before." I tried to explain to him my weird thoughts.

"It's not weird at all, I had times when I wrote a whole song like that, but as soon as my brain extended it, I wrote it down quickly. You should do that too." He sipped from his glass.

"Hmm, okay I will. I would be glad if I could write a song, it seems fun." I said to him honestly, staring right next to him into a blank point.

"It is, but it has the bad sides too. The process of music-making is tiring. You have to listen to it a thousand times and change a lot of things so that in the end, it is going to be perfect. But it's worth it, I can promise that." I never heard him talk this much; it was strange. I liked this side of him. He looked so soft and nice, with his black hoodie, the sleeves, and the hood close to the color of beige, the hood now on his head, and black sweatpants hugging his legs tugged up on the couch. I felt like I wanted to hug him, which was strange.

"Mhhm, I'll try doing something," I said laying my head on the couch's back, turning towards him. I slowly started to feel the effects of the alcohol, my body was lighter.

"Since when do you sing?" He did the same as me looking at me curiously.

My heart started to beat fast at that question. I looked down on my hands. "Hmm, since I was seven…maybe." Unwanted tears started to appear in my eyes as I blinked them away.

"Your voice is so beautiful; I get chills all the time you are on the stage." He complimented me. I lifted my head and smiled at him. "Why do you sing?” He asked while his eyes never left me.

It was always hard for me to talk about this. "My mother discovered I can sing, so she was the one pushing me in this way. I fell in love with everything that's music, and since my mother died…" I stayed quiet for a second, trying to be able to talk. "After she died, it was my only escape," I said, my fingers toying with the glass, my breaths shallow and uneven.

It was a long time ago since she took her own life, I was only 12 back then, but how could I forget her beautiful smile, as she looked at me proudly every time I sang? Every time I stepped on the stage, I saw her beautiful face smiling at me and saying 'You've got this'.

Abruptly, Hongjoong's presence pulled me from my reverie. "She would be proud of you." He smiled at me sweetly, reaching his hand to my cheek, and caressing it.

I stared at him as if I didn't recognize him. "Thank you."

We stared at each other for a moment. "Does Yunho's rule affect you?" I suddenly broke the silence. He took his hands away from my face, sudden change went through him, as I mentioned Yunho's name. It really did affect him. He turned on the couch leaning against the back, staring at the blank TV.

"So, it does." I acknowledged as I drank the remaining wine from my glass and I stood to put the glass down. As I turned towards him, he lifted his head, his gaze piercing into mine.

 As if he knew what I was planning. I walked towards him and slowly straddled him staring into his eyes the whole time. I left my hand on his shoulders as he did not move at all.

"Why are you doing this?" He was struggling I could see it in his eyes.

"Because I know you hold yourself back, for a reason of a stupid rule, my brother made," I said leaning closer to his face. "You can't hold back for too long, Joong." I whispered on his now bruised lips. A surge of anger coursed through me at the sight of his injuries, a protective instinct rising within.

I saw as his eyes got softer, he slowly reached his right hand towards my lips and brushed it with the softest touch I ever felt. He stared at my lips desperately.

"What do you want, Hongjoong?" I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"I want to kiss you." He whispered a little dazed from the alcohol.

I reached my hands to his face to cup his face into my hands. "Then do it," I whispered into his lips as they almost touched his, it felt like a bad decision, but I couldn’t think about that when that's all I had to say, and he grabbed my waist to pull me closer to him, his lips finding mine finally, and I felt complete again.

≫You complete me like black the white

I complete you like fire the water≪

I didn’t even realize back then how it felt to kiss him, because I'm sure it hasn’t felt like this. Our lips moved together like it was destined together, slowly, passionately. His kiss conveyed a desperate longing as if he never wanted to part from me. I felt his bruised lips against mine, as his tongue went through my parted lips, inviting mine for a dance. His hands slowly found their way under my shirt, running his fingers through the line of my spine, I arched my back from his touch. It never felt so good, his touch was like a sin I could commit anytime. I reached my hand to his nape, and slowly teasingly ran my fingers through his hair, mixing the colors, as his lips escaped a moan, that sounded like the melody that was playing in my head rent-free.

All of a sudden, I heard two car doors slamming. I departed from Hongjoong immediately as he heard the sound as well, looking towards the front door with round eyes.

"Yunho is with his motorbike, right?" He asked looking back at me.

I nodded.

 "Fuck they followed me," Hongjoong said as he stood up quickly his hands still holding my lower back. We heard two loud bangs on the door.

"I know you are there, open up or we will break the door." A low voice shouted from the front door, and I started to panic.

<Previous Part Next part>

[call-sign-shark]

Little Lamb part. 2 || Arthur Shelby x Reader x OFC

Summary: You discover that Arthur is already married when you are faced with his wife. Worst, she seems to already know about you. Did she see you flirting with her husband? (Yandere! Arthur Shelby x Reader x Yandere!OFC)

TW: (for the entire short series) Toxic dynamic, polyamory relationship, murders, torture, graphic depiction of violence, heavy allusion to smut, obsessive behavior, possessive!lovers, angst and horror. Inspired by the song The Things I Do For Love by Bludnymph.

Words: 1.3 K

Notes:

✞ 0 proofreading, it's also prolly bad written but it's just a little something I write for fun.

✞ Heaven in Reader in the ongoing Arthur x You series Heaven in Your Eyes.

PREVIOUS PART

Six months ago.

She hasn't stopped crying since they came back from the doctor's office. With his long and bony fingers lost in her wild silver mane, Arthur gently massages his wife's scalp in a desperate attempt to chase her troubles away.

"It's goin' to be okay, love." His usually loud baritone voice had turned into a tender hush. Gathering all his protective nature to remain the reassuring one, he presses a kiss on top of her head,

"No, it's not! What's wrong with me?!" She roars through her sobs, her fists weakly hitting Arthur's chest in frustration as her pain blends with a self-targeted rage. Usually, Heaven Shelby is not the emotive kind — quite the opposite, the young French girl's tears were as scarce as the most precious stones, only falling from her aquamarine eyes when the situation was truly catastrophic. Arthur himself could hold count of the few times she cried on a single hand. Yet, she seems unable to stop, her face hidden in the crook of her husband's neck and her salty tears dampening the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't fucking say there's someth' wrong with ya." Trying his best to remain gentle, Arthur shifts a little before cupping her doll face and then forces her to face his stern steel-blue eyes. The look she gave him, filled with inconsolable sorrow, broke his heart into pieces.

How he hates watching her in pain — it makes him feel powerless and boiling from the inside because, this time, there is literally nothing he can do to fix it. Nothing his fists can destroy, nothing his kisses can heal. All he has is words, and God knew how bad he is with them. "I don't care if ya can't have a baby, what matters is you. Only you." Still, he tried, wiping her tears and the remnant of her mascara with a soft caress from his thumbs. “Please stop crying…”

"But you've always wanted to be a father." She said through gritted teeth, her fleshy lower lip trembling and her eyes overflowing once again as she fought against another wave of uncontrollable sadness, "The night of our wedding I promised I'll give you a family and look at me! Look at me Arthur! I can't even be pregnant! This is... This is fucking unfair..." Her voice cracked. Unfair that John could spawn a whole football team. Unfair that Tommy got Grace's pregnant after fucking her only once when she came back from America while she couldn’t for the life of hers. Arthur let out a long exhale through his nostrils before wrapping his arms around her waist again, forehead pressed against forehead and eyes locked together in a tender embrace.

"Listen, little one. I don't care about babies. Don't care about anything in all this fucking world as long as you're by my side. If you can't have children and wanna grieve about it well it’s fine with me, but if you do want one we'll find a way. I promise we’ll find a way.”

"Arthur told me about you." No matter how patient and calmly she expresses herself, you can't help but feel each of her words like painful razor blades.

Discreetly behind the bar, your grip clenches around the wooden counter for you are convinced your legs wouldn't handle your weight if you let go of it. "Made me curious about this new pretty barmaid, even though the last one ended up dead and cold. Gun wounds in the chest area are pretty deadly. I truly hope you'll last longer."

As you stand there, eyes wide open and face dropping a few shades paler, an overwhelming wave of terror crashes through your body and leaves you petrified. Every muscle tenses, locking you in place as your heart pounds furiously in your chest. You don't know what it is about her — the frozen beauty, the frightening discourse, or the faulty contact in her eyes when she smiles — but it made cold sweat trickle down your spine. . "Oh, eeerr... I—" You try to speak but your brain just doesn't cooperate and your breath remains stuck in your throat. All the confidence you've built these past few weeks is destroyed in one batting of her doe lashes.

She notices it.

Hell, you're so obvious that everybody does.

"Hey," She says, her creepy smile withering and the ice of her iris melting, "I was just messing with you, little Lamb." Nimble, she leans over the bar and reaches for your face, her sly fingers offering you the most gentle caress you've ever felt grazing your skin. Her flesh is cold, smooth like marble, but despite everything the physical contact sends warmth into your soul, and in consequences your body quickly retrieves its ability to move, "I'm sorry, I knew I was terrible at making friends but not that much." The white-haired doll winks before stepping back to give you more space to breath, concluding her sentence with a little candid chuckle.

"Oh no, it's my bad!" You quickly replied, a sense of utter guilt washing over you for having thought she was being a bitch by trying to scare you, "I haven't got much sleep lately and it makes me quite sensitive. You've done nothing wrong." With a grateful exhale, you close your eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of safety as well as the fragrances of her refined perfume that envelop you. A shy smile finally enlightens your face.

"I wish I'd look as pretty as you when I'm sleep-deprived but unfortunately, I turn into a goblin when I don't have my beauty sleep." Her joke sweeps away the remaining tension and snatches genuine amused laughter from you. Heaven finally offers you one last smile before making her way to Arthur, who was sitting further, far too busy talking with John and Finn.

"Hey! Your glass of wine!" You call her.

"It's yours! Cheers, babe." She replies cheerfully, almost singing as she leaves your side.

You've tried to hate her, you’ve really tried, but you couldn't.

She didn’t make it easy either.

During the same evening, each time you came to the Shelby table to refill their glasses, you ended up quickly distracted from the pain of seeing her all snuggled up against Arthur's chest by how kind and bubbly she was when you were around. Always complimenting you and eager to chat with you — little insignificant and transparent you. So much that a part of you felt horrible at the thought that you have been flirting and planning to get involved with her husband. When they left the pub late at night -or rather early in the morning-, you found a ridiculous amount of money on the table, and under those banknotes was a little bracelet made of daisies, their stems carefully intertwined together by skilled fingers.

Did you wear it? Of course, it was made with love.

In the days that followed this unexpected meeting, Arthur's wife came to the Garrison and always left a homemade something for you to eat since you had told her that you struggled with eating more than one meal a day due to your financial problems. The food wasn't just good, it was certainly the most delicious dishes you had ever tasted. France, they say, has one of the finest gastronomy in the world and you learned the veracity of this statement the best way. It didn't take long for both of you to become friends first, then inseparable after some time.

Alongside this very unexpected friendship, Arthur's demeanor toward you hadn't changed the slightest — which didn't help forgetting about him. Every slight touch, every smile, and every word exchanged made your heart race in your chest the same as before, if not faster.

Lost and torn by the conflicting feelings of a friendship you genuinely cherished and your growing affection for your best friend's husband, you felt like your own reflection in the mirror was judging you. But if there was something you weren’t it was wicked.

Maybe that was why this battle between desire and loyalty had led you to stutter the following statement to the white-haired and crystal-eyed angel:

"Heaven, I'm so sorry. I think I am in love with Arthur."

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[scarabjewels]

Corpse Bride had the PERFECT ending.

SUE ME.

The number of people who wanted Emily to be Victor's endgame, with myself included, have a similar issue or lack of growth with Emily's arc throughout the movie.

Clinging onto the idea of love, to the point of forcing it onto someone. I'm calling us and her delusional.

She also went through a sort of roundabout response of the stages of grief: grieving her life.

Shock and Denial

She knows she's dead, and yet she delusionally believed she was still a young bride waiting for her groom

Emily was murdered and Barkis, her now ex- fiance, took her dreams with her life. My theory is that after she died, she had to grieve his betrayal first. She probably coped by clinging on to her dream, convinced that she had just found the wrong guy, and that the right one would come eventually. While we see she is popular in the underworld, she was not able to find a young enough suitor or one that sparked her interest.

She also exhibited extremely idealistic scenarios of her finding the right guy. Hey, the girl was murdered the last time she took a chance on an impulse. While her pattern of falling hard fast still exists, she probably convinced herself that Victor was better because she had no dowry to present for him to take and leave her, yet he still asked her to mary him (despite being an accident), so it must be "true love". This is the kind of behaviour a loottt of people with reoccuring similar toxic relationships tell themselves, I know because I was one of them.

Emily was our hot dead girl with the delulu issues. She was in denial of the reality of the situation, even when she was aware of this.

Pain and Guilt

Notice how when Emily has a fit about Victor seeing Victoria, she said the words "you should've thought of that before you asked me to marry you" and he responds "don't you see it was a mistake, I would never marry you". The silent blinking and realization of Victor's lack of tact, out of so much frustration, and Emily's small glimpse of what kind of person she had become, was perfection. She obviously knows she was holding him captive, but she was denying the truth until the wedding. It was painful for Emily, but her reality is so twisted that she can only see her pain before Victor.

The essence of guilt came when she was given the option to poison Victor to forever be tethered to his marriage to her. With guilt, there is kindness, and her kind heart shined before guilt. She couldn't bear to kill him for her dreams because she genuinely cared and loved him still. Another time was the wedding scene. She had second thoughts and finally realized that she was taking Victor and Victoria's chance.

Anger and Bargaining

When she caught Victor seeing Victoria, not only was she pained, she was blaming and angry at Victor, as in her eyes he was cheating on her, when all he did was to escape from her, because duh, he is held against his will.

Going back to their argument, while Emily felt jealous and envy, she subtly wished she was alive. In the lamenting musical scene "Tears to Shed," she accepted her death a long time ago but envied Victoria's main asset that she can never compete with: being alive.

Depression to upward turn

Emily's lamentation of being dead and that Victor will eventually leave her, being lonely again, was evident during the Tears to Shed song and just before the infamous chemistry induced piano scene.

While we see her depressed, she had calmed down and was able to be serenaded into a neutral mood again.

Emily was in this stage completely when Victor and her were gathering everyone and getting ready to get married upstairs.

Reconstruction and working through

Emily was in her full delusions of her dreams finally come true, but her reconstruction stage flashed when she was delivering her vow and saw Victoria watching.

My own little headcanon is that she saw herself in Victoria, and she saw herself as Barkis, taking her dreams away.

She stopped Victor drinking the poisoned wine and finally spoke her truth, the raw truth that Emily is seeing the reality she is in and what she has become.

Her dreams were taken, and now she is the one taking from someone else, and she hated it. She loved Victor so much, but he wasn't hers. She brought the Vs (keehee) together, deciding to call off the marriage.

Now, facing her past is probably her final stage of reconstruction. She meets her ex-fiance and is able to protect Victor from him in the midst of the two men's showdown. She was absolutely disgusted and hated his presence, pointing the sword and telling him to get out.

The karma probably hit best when Barkis drank the poisoned wine, his last words showing how full he is of himself. He was dealt with by Emily's underworld friends soon after he died.

Acceptance

While Victor and Victoria were finally in each other's arms, Emily smiled with bittersweetness and began to walk away. Victor stopped her, attempting to keep his promise. Emily reassured he already did. He set her free, and now it is her turn to set him free.

She literally walked the aisle alone. She accepted the truth, the past, and the present. Her only future was to move on.

As a sign of moving on, she tossed the bouquet that eventually landed on Victoria's hands. With her last breath, she bursted into butterflies. Finally free.

My Conclusion

I think a major theme in Emily's arc is letting her delusion get the best of her, almost portrayed humanely. Just an observation, aside from the art style of Tim Burton, Emily looked lowkey deranged? While Victor looked tired and scared, Victoria had wonder and curiosity, and Emily looked low key crazy and held on to what little sanity she had left. I think the reason why I couldn't see that aspect as much is because she also looked so beautiful, sounded sweet, and looked delicate, albeit being a red flag and literally a horrifying, decaying reanimated corpse.

Corpse Bride really was Emily's story, told through Victor's perspective. Let's be honest, if it was from Emily's perspective, it would be similar to 500 days of summer, an unreliable narration from a delusional protagonist. That is the difference between her, Victor, and Victoria. They saw what was actually going on.

Victor was already a developed character, in my opinion. He was just a young man living with anxiety. He liked Victoria at first sight and wanted to get married. He was kind and musically inclined. He was much more of an established person than say a character needing another character for their development like Joel from Eternal Sunshine (that's a read and I meant it). So was Victoria, she was a young woman who wanted to get married, looked forward to getting to know her betrothed more, and was quite outspoken and courageous. They were just bothe caught up in an arc. Emily, albeit the different girl, was probably the one who needed a manic pixie dream man, and she got Victor. She really needed character development.

One more theme the movie has is what a broken heart can do to you. Emily loved and was betrayed. She clung to an impossible dream even after death. Victor saw the opportunity for a rebound the minute he heard Victoria was going to get married to another man. Victoria was in total shock when she was going to be betrothed to someone else and accepted to help her parents, but also stood up for herself from Barrkus the minute he showed his intentions of marrying her.

I really loved Emily realising what was happening, it took her a good minute but she got there. I also loved that Emily and Victoria never got into some kind of argument or showdown, seriously I feel like that would have happened in early to mid 2010 fantasy romances, ehem Twilight (I hate the story and the characters but it was entertaining hot garbage). It was a graceful story of love and let go.

I'm sure we have a collective head canon of Victor's and Victoria's first daughter to be named Emily.

[phaedraismyusername]

It's September and we're in a heatwave so instead of choosing violence here's some oppressive summer gothics to match the abysmal autumn vibes

The criteria - they have to be hot and humid, they have to be gothic in nature, dark in content, and they have to at least flirt with the paranormal

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo

This follows Andrew as he moves to a college across the country to step into his dead best friend Eddie's old life as he desperately tries to prove that he must've been murdered. Haunted, both figuratively and literally, angry and grieving, Andrew sets off on a path that leads him to question everything he ever thought he knew about himself and their history together as he fights to accept who he is, who Eddie was, and maybe tries to learn how to live without him. Fast-paced, dark, and super gay.

Water Shall Refuse Them by Lucie McKnight Hardy

After the death of her little sister, teenager Nif and her family move to rural Wales for the summer in an attempt to escape their grief. Set in the 1970s during a heatwave the isolation and oppressive weather quickly start to take their toll. With an emotionally absent mother, a father with a wandering eye and a needy younger brother, Nif becomes convinced she's stumbled across her own kind of magic, before catching the attention of the strange boy across the street. Think Shirley Jackson, definitely not YA.

Dark and Shallow Lies by Ginny Myers Sain

Now, this is YA. We follow 17 year old Grey as she returns back to her tiny hometown in the Louisiana Bayou for the summer 6 months after her best friends mysterious disappearance. In a town that claims to be the 'psychic capitol of the world', someone must know something, right? Full of secrets, lies, and a boy who steps out of the forest with storm-bright eyes, this was a quick and twisty atmospheric read.

The Hacienda by Isabel Canas

When political upheaval gets her father executed and his family is left in shame and destitution, Beatriz decides she'll do whatever it takes to find security in her life again. When a handsome Don proposes, Beatriz jumps at the chance to accept and move out to his countryside estate with big plans for the future, but it doesn't take long before she's spending her nights terrorised by a mysterious entity inside her new home, forcing her to seek help from the strangest of places. The imagery is creepy, the tone is tense, there's a hot priest, what more do you want?

Cold Moon Over Babylon by Michael McDowell

Probably the darkest book on this list, and definitely the oldest. When a young girl is brutally murdered within sight of her home, it starts a chain of events that will see a family destroyed, secrets and lies exposed, and a vengeful creature that looks almost human to rise from the river as the town that surrounds it starts to crumble. The people are unlikeable, the book is old, the content is Dark - you've been warned.

Ghost Wood Song by Erica Waters

Also YA but this time for the bisexuals. Shady Grove can call ghosts from the grave with her music, just like her daddy could, but everyone knows that only trouble comes from playing for the dead. When her brother is accused of murder, Shady decides to embrace her birthright and use any power she can to clear his name. It's sweet, it's sad, it's lyrical, and there's a little bi love triangle sprinkled in to sweeten the sorrows. It's also a debut!

[q-gorgeous]

She's Almost You

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 861

warning: major character death

"The same kind of music / haunts her bedroom / I'm almost me again / she's almost you" - Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier. Whatever this line evokes. @jessaverant

yoyoyoyo

“Danny!” Jazz shouted. He was falling from the air. He’d been shot with a weapon by their parents. It shorted out his powers. He couldn’t get his transformation rings to appear. He couldn’t fly. He was too high in the air. What could they do? 

The sound when he hit the ground would forever haunt her. 

~~~

Danny’s funeral. A little girl standing at the back of the crowd. Jazz didn’t know who she was but she bore a striking resemblance to the boy they were burying that day. 

Sam and Tucker introducing them to Danielle. Dani. She was a clone. A clone of her brother. She was the same as him in nearly every way. 

She came to say goodbye to him. Her only real family she’d ever had. She flew all the way here just for him. Where did she come from? Where would she go?

They couldn’t let her go off on her own. Not when she was staring up at them with his sky blue eyes. 

~~~

His favorite song. 

It played behind what used to be his bedroom door. 

Jazz knew that they couldn’t have sent her away. Not a 14 year old child who had only really been alive for 2 years. But she didn’t realize how much her brother would haunt them with her here. They were so similar. From the type of music they listened to and their aspirations to the dark speck of blue in their left iris. 

Jazz would see her walking the halls at home or at school. She’d see her flying around town and all she could see was her brother. She’d see Danielle out of the corner of her eye and she thought maybe her brother wasn’t really dead. Maybe he didn’t really move on. Maybe he was still here. 

Maybe it had all been a dream. 

It felt like Jazz was living in a nightmare. 

~~~

Jazz was starting to feel like herself again. She finally put in her college applications after waiting a year. She was ready to continue her studies. She shouldn’t put it off any longer. She’d had her time to grieve.

But she knew she really hadn’t grieved. Not with Danielle here. She thought maybe going away would give her some real time to grieve. If she was somewhere where she didn’t see his face all the time.

She shook that thought off. Her sister was happy she was going to school. Danielle wanted to get to know Jazz. But Jazz hadn’t been herself for a while. She wanted to try though. She wanted to be a sister again. A good sister. Danielle looked at her like she put the stars in the sky and she wanted to do just that for her. 

Jazz just had to find her own stars again. 

~~~

She’s almost you.

Jazz watched as Danielle fought the ghost king. Jazz had heard the story about him from Danny. That he had been locked back up in his sarcophagus. That he’d been defeated. But it took nearly every bit of strength he had. He almost died. And he needed help to do it. And now Danielle was up there doing it on her own. No ghost friends. No allies. No suit.

Just her. 

She was holding strong but Jazz could see she was getting tired. Their parents were trying to put together something, anything that could help her. But they didn’t have the time. They would run out of time. 

She was too much like Danny. She jumped into danger and ghost fights just like he did. She took on too much responsibility like he did. This wasn’t something she had to do but she did it anyway. 

Then, the ghost king struck Danielle out of the air. She hurtled towards the ground and all Jazz could do was thank the heavens or whatever god existed that Danielle was still transformed. That she still still had her powers. That she would be able to take the hit when she skidded across the pavement and smashed into a building. 

But Danielle didn’t get back up. She lay there. Unmoving. 

Jazz started to run. She couldn’t lose her too. Not after losing him. She couldn’t lose him twice. 

But then Danielle raised an arm and pushed herself up off the pavement. Jazz skidded to a stop. The look she wore was one Jazz had seen Danny wear countless times while fighting dangerous ghosts. 

Danielle glared up at the ghost king and shot back up into the air. 

She flew circles around him and beat him until he was somehow weak enough to pull into a thermos. Jazz stared at her in awe. Marveled at finally seeing Danielle be different from Danny. Defeating a foe without the aid of anything. A foe that Danny almost died defeating even with the help he got. 

Danielle floated down and touched onto the ground. She stumbled her way towards Jazz, hardly being able to keep one foot in front of the other. 

She collapsed into her and Jazz shook as she held her sister. Her parents' shouts echoed from down the street. 

She was okay. Danielle would be okay.

[pidgebeats]

cassidy peña - tlou oc

He’s one of them, she thought, no matter how much he tells his little sob story. I should leave him.

theme song

trigger warnings: character death, but not described very detailed.

CASSIDY was born in Mexico City. She was 12 on Outbreak Day, and her parents rushed to take her to America, thinking it would be safe there, but it was not. They travelled far in a little car to get her and her brother to the Boston Quarantine Zone.

When Cassidy was 16, her mother ran away from the Zone, leaving her, her grieving father, and her 18-year-old brother. She did not cope very well with this and ran away to join the Fireflies when she was eighteen.

She served with them for four years, until she was twenty-two, and then escaped from the Zone with the girl she was crushing on, Emilia, and Emilia's boyfriend, Noah. They travelled to the outskirts of Kansas City, and, in a horrible smuggler attack, Noah was shot and killed.

Cassidy fled with Emilia to a little log cabin in the woods that was kind of undisturbed by infected, but it was then she found out she was expecting. They fell in love over that short time, but when Cassidy was fully head-over-heels and completely ready to care for a child that was not hers, she found Emilia dead, hung by her neck, a snake carved into the tree next to her.

She was hell-bent on revenge for her late lover and her unborn baby, and so travelled to Oregon. She had recognised the snake: it was the symbol of a cult, she'd read about it back in Boston. She did end up finding them, and in a horrible state of mind where nobody could be freed, she managed to murder a significant number of them before finding the catalyst: a man, the same age as her, who seemed to be almost taken prisoner. His name was Jason, and he became Cassidy’s rock very quickly, helping her take down the last of the hostile cult members and convincing her to get to the next state over, Washington.

He knew about the Fireflies. I heard there’s a group that takes in Firefly refuges, he’d said, and that had sold Cassidy. If they could just find the girl that they needed to operate on, the auburn haired one, then maybe everything would be alright – they could cure people, meaning Noah and Emilia’s deaths wouldn’t be in vain.

In Seattle, Cassidy and Jason rode around on horses he had acquired when she had come down with a horrible fever until they were shot off of them, and they fled to an abandoned hotel. There, unbeknownst to the two, was a girl: she was an escaped Seraphite, another cult the duo had yet to discover, and she tried to attack them.

She warned them, and Cassidy had a row with Jason, but ultimately, they decided to take her in. Her real name was Aubrey, but she insisted on being called Star. She had dirty blonde hair and scars carving their way up her cheeks, and she referred to zombies as demons. She was also only 15.

They travelled together, but Star was far too hesitant of joining the Washington Liberation Front, and after meeting a rather violent blonde who tried to kill Star, they decided not to join up. Cassidy ended up regretting this for years to come. They headed to Wyoming, hearing of a settlement.

Jason seemed to be getting horribly sick during the journey to Wyoming. It had started just after they had encountered some infected in Montana, and Cassidy anxiously glanced at him very often. It wasn’t until one day later that Jason stopped dead at the border to Wyoming and showed Cassidy his leg. There was a horrible bite on it, angry and fungal, and Cassidy knew that must be the end of his journey.

She said they’d leave him behind, that Montana must have scenic places to die, but Jason begged for her to just kill him. Shoot him herself. Maybe it would have some resonance with her, he’d said, seeing as he had been a prisoner of the cult she’d taken down all the way back in Oregon. Maybe she should have just killed him then.

Cassidy was forced to shoot him. Star was the only thing she had left now, and the girl didn’t seem very happy. She refused to talk to Cassidy, and maybe the self-loathing of the woman stopped her from trying to rekindle their relationship. If she wants to run away, she’s very welcome. I won’t stop her.

They stayed in their silent little dance until they got to Jackson, where a very angry-looking woman had pointed a gun at them as soon as they tried to pass the gates. They had taken away Star’s bow and Cassidy’s machete, but, after Cassidy confirmed that she would be taking care of Star and that the girl was seventeen which meant no school, they were let in, being allowed to live in a nice little house next to a park.

Slowly growing closer again, Cassidy and Star went on patrols together, and when Star came to eat with Cassidy at the dinner table, that sealed it: they had made up. Star was like the child that Cassidy had never had – or, had almost had – and she often wondered if the girl saw her the same.

She knew that she would never recover from any of her losses – not Jason, nor Emilia, nor her mother – but she had Star, and maybe she helped her heal. She never thought about the Oregon cult or the pistol she had shot Jason with, burning the stupid thing, and she finally knew peace.

[letmeexplaineverything]

        It was late. Most of the Dream Kingdom was fast asleep, and the full moon was shining bright... But evidently, at least two people were still awake.

        Magolor had been inside his cart, hard at work planning, when he heard the sounds- the faint melody of a mournful song, just outside. Despite his best efforts, he knew he wouldn't be able to focus like that. With a groan, he resigned himself to floating out the door and past the counter to see who else could be up at such an hour. And there was Taranza, sitting on top of the cart and singing to himself. He sighed and shook his head. Of course he was up there again.

        He poked his head up to the Shoppe’s roof. “Dude, you know if I take this thing with me, you’re going to have to find a new perch, right?”

        Taranza jumped. “What are you doing up at such an hour?!”

        “I was working on travel plans.” Magolor went to sit next to him. “What are you doing up at such an hour?” He smiled mockingly.

        “That’s none of your business,” he hissed, almost reflexively, before averting his gaze- a difficult task for someone with so many eyes.

        Magolor rolled his own two eyes. “Well, can I at least ask what you were singing?”

        Taranza didn’t turn back to face him, but his golden eyes strayed onto him. “The Blossom’s Memorial. It’s a old Floralian folksong,” he muttered. “It’s about loss, as framed through the withering of a flower. I didn’t think anyone else was awake, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

        “Ah. That sounds... poetic.” He leaned back, gazing up at the night sky. The full moon’s light made it hard to see the stars that he’d grown to find comfort in. “Kind of ironic, if you ask me.”

        “Pardon?”

        “It is ironic, isn’t it?” He cocked an ear. “Describing loss in such a pretty way, when it’s rough, messy, and leaves you wishing you'd done something more, that you’d told them just how much they meant to you...”

        He caught a glimpse of Taranza’s horns twitching in the corner of his eye. “How uncharacteristically sensitive of you,” he cooed.

        “Hey, I've been through plenty,” Magolor objected, “I just don’t like to mope. There’s plenty of other things for me to do, y’know?”

        Taranza stared at him with half-lidded eyes- his white ones, at least. The rest were as open as ever. “Isn’t that unhealthy?”

        “Hm?”

        “Not letting yourself rest a bit so you can feel, and just working through the pain?”

        Magolor’s ears pinned back. “I’m just trying to make things better for myself instead of blindly grieving.”

        He didn’t look convinced. “You yourself said you were working on travel plans. How is running away from here going to bring back what you lost?”

        He clenched the end of his cape. He wanted so badly to snap at him, but he knew that would only make matters worse. “... You won’t blab to anyone, will you?”

        “Maybe I should, but no.” Taranza held out one of his many hands. “I swear on it.”

        Magolor hesitated. The two of them weren’t especially close... But then again, Taranza was no gossip, being rather closed off from the townspeople. It’s not as though he was in any place to badmouth him about this, anyhow.

        Taking a deep breath, he shook his hand. “As I’m sure you know, I’m a traveler from a very distant land- one you won’t find on any maps. But I didn’t come here by choice.”

        Taranza tilted his head. “Were you seeking refuge?”

        “Not exactly.” He leaned his cheek on one hand. “I made some mistakes, and that got me ripped away from my family. I’d call it banishment if it wasn’t likely everyone thinks I'm dead...”

        “I must say, I never took you for a family man.”

        “I wouldn’t say I am one.” Magolor shook his head. “It was just me and my little girl for the longest time.” His gaze dropped down to his hands. “And now, it’s just me.”

        “... I'm sorry to hear that.” Taranza placed two of his hands on his back. Magolor tensed, open hands balling into fists. His eyes were beginning to burn.

        “I don't need any pity.” He rubbed an eye. “I’m going to get back to her. I just need to retrace my steps, so to speak...”

        He removed his hands from Magolor’s back, letting out a short hum. “Well. I wish you luck, then.”

[eruditetyro]

Ronan

what if you grow up in paradise with a mother who loves you and a father who loves you and you learn irish folk songs on multiple instruments and when you're little you want a little brother and then you wake up and one is outside your bedroom door. you play tennis. you can take things out of your dreams, just like your father can. this is something that is strange about you but the strangeness that you find more preoccupying and keep more of a secret even from yourself is that you like boys. your life is full of strange impossible things and music and love. one day when you are a teenager you wake up and you find your father who you love dead in the driveway and suddenly your life changes very drastically. your mother falls asleep and your father's will bans you from paradise and you go to war with your older brother because none of it is fair and he is now the only authority figure left to represent the unfairness. you steal your father's car. you have a friend who has bought a warehouse and instead of moving into the school dorms you move in to his strange project. you are full of constant grief too big for you to hold and it makes you hard and sharp and reckless. your friend catches you shaving your skull in the bathroom and he cleans it up for you, the back where it's hard to get it all one length by yourself. you drink. you street race. you pump music louder than anything through your speakers and let the bass take over for the beating of your grieving heart. you can take things out of your dreams. you are so afraid that the nightmares will kill your friend. your friend gains another friend, a boy whose hands you have to tear your eyes away from. the four of you, you and your two roommates and this boy, you are on a quest. the quest isn't yours but it's something, it depends on the existence of magic, something you have no trouble believing in. it is something to think about that does not hurt your heart. you always tell the truth because the secrets you keep are so big and you can't understand why anyone would lie when they didn't have to. your secrets pull at your gut. your past pulls at your gut. your days are filled with school, questing, tennis, church. your nights are fraught, dangerous sleep and dangerous sleeplessness, sitting up with your insomniac friend, street racing when you need the rush, drinking when you need the dulling. one night you fall asleep and it very nearly overwhelms you and your friend has to take you to the hospital where they stitch your arms back together and tell you you are lucky you lived. you cannot tell anyone that it was not a suicide attempt, because no one can know that sometimes when you dream the dreams come back with you. your heart is behind steel walls. you do not trust anyone fully. you are very, very tired. you have made yourself to look like a knife. you have made yourself to look like a weapon. you do not have room inside you for any more hurt and you keep your hair sheared close and you keep your words sharp and every so often you and your older brother beat each other up in parking lots with the boxing skills your father taught you back when he was alive and this is the closest you get to mourning him together, this anger directed at each other. and every sunday you sit together at mass. and slowly your friend's quest develops, and the forest from your dreams is a part of the Virginia landscape, and there is a girl in your group now whose family are all psychics. you do not trust them. you ask them for something true and the one who answers tells you a secret killed your father and you know what it was. you leave immediately. you have a baby raven you are taking care of which came out of your head when you were drunk and sleeping somewhere where potential nightmares wouldn't kill your friend. the forest from your dreams does not follow the typical rules of the Virginia countryside. your friends receive the new magic with wonder. they are careful with it. one of your friends has been dead the entire time you've known him.

the impossible surrounds you outside of the secrets you keep. the boy that pulls at another of your secrets swears his hands and eyes to the forest. your group of friends is as impossible as you. you realize you trust them with your own impossible secret. you tell them you pulled the baby raven out of your dreams.

(AND THEN you finally start getting POV chapters.)

[layingeggs]

Beat Bloodborne PSX. Great game. Fantastic dysphoria simulator.

Trying to persevere in a dead world. Stopping to rest in every sparse safe haven you can find. Coming across others doing the same thing. There's this unspoken connection between the two of you that goes beyond just interest in mutual survival. But whatever that connection is, you will never speak it. You will only watch, bear witness, eventually see them die.

Most of them don't even get to die human. Don't even get to die as their authentic selves. You have to bury someone you never truly knew but what you're actually grieving is the life not lived.

But I think the worst part is that they repeatedly dangle characters in front of me that I'd desperately rather be than the Hunter.

(Honestly, it's the same thing with a lot of other Fromsoft games. How on earth are you supposed to face down Crossbreed Priscilla without begging her to let you stay and live in her world? Why is that not even an option? You know why it's not an option! Because you are playing as a character who is chronically incapable of reaching out to people they want to reach out to! You are playing as someone who is not alive, does not live, will not live, drifts through everything in a dissociative haze. Try to make sense of it all, fail, and then die. This is the person you are occupying in these games.)

Good grief, I even found myself longing for the Winter Lanterns. They are very beautiful. Their song is beautiful. There is something about their embrace when their kill you that is comforting.

One particular death I died stands out to me. I was trying different strategies and different weapon types, searching for some method to kill. My Frenzy meter filled up and I died on the spot while I was still pumping a Winter Lantern full of quicksilver.

She was approaching me. And she reach me finally just as I died from Frenzy. She stood there and watched as I screamed and bled out and crumpled to the floor unmoving. Then she looks up. Relaxes. Turns around and walks away singing her little song.

The me who died is not the real me. The real me is the girl who walked away. The one who is singing her song. That's where you can find me if you know where to look.

[basiccortez]

A Song Unknown: Chap 5

synopsis: what happens when the girl-next-door comes home after 3 years with a little boy who looks an awful like the boy in a band

note: finally an update! thank you for being so very patient with me. Also, keep sending in anons! They make me smile:) (even the unhinged ones) p.s I forgot that I had a playlist for my vibes:)

warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of depression

A Song Unknown playlist

The thought weighed on her heavy. "Would TJ forgive me?" Sam has assured her that he would but Y/N wasn't convinced. She didn't even know where to begin to explain to a 3 year old that the man he thought was his father really isn't his father. TJ had never called Tayler "dad", he was always just Tayler to the little boy. Y/N guessed it was because deep down, TJ knew that Tayler really wasn't his dad. The two looked nothing alike. Tayler had blonde hair and green eyes, while TJ had the dark coffee colored eyes and curly brown hair.

Sam and Danny had insisted on spending her last day in Michigan with her, before she would be packing up to drive back to Nashville. Sam had told Julie about finding Y/N in the bath tub last night. Julie had talked to her daughter this morning, asking her if she would stay longer. But Y/N wanted things to get back to somewhat normal.

"What's your plan when you get back?" Julie asked her daughter as she prepared TJ's breakfast.

"Back to work," Y/N responded monotone.

"Have you talked to Tayler?"

"Yesterday morning,"

"And what did you say?"

"He's busy, working on the album. We've got a lot of things to get done. I've got a new talent coming in for their first writing session. I've got instrument recordings to accomplish, plus a new band coming in to finish their pre-write,"

"Y/N-"

"What?" Y/N snapped looking at her mom, "I need things to go back to normal. I can't just let this whole thing. . . derail my life,"

Julie nodded and handed Y/N a packet, "I had a collauege at the firm draft this. It's just a sample of what you might be hit with, I think it's best you read it over and ask questions on what you don't understand."

Y/N furrowed her eyes at the envelope in front of her, "Child Custody agreement? What... why would you give me this!?"

"Things are going to change whether you like it or not, Y/N. You'd be foolish to not prepare yourself for something like this. I put the number of a good attorney-"

"NO!" Y/N yelled startling the whole house, "Over my dead fucking body am I going to pull my son into this mess. Jake is just a fucking sperm donor, he's not a father!"

"You didn't give him-"

"Don't even finish that sentence,"

Julie looked appalled and set her coffee mug down, "I am not sure who the hell you're talking to, but remember, you're in my house. You might be a mother, but i'm still yours, young lady," Y/N bit her lip and turned away from her mother, "I know you made your choice for what you thought was best, and you know i support whatever you wanted to do, but Jake is now in the picture. He's a fighter and so are you, and you need to be prepared."

"He can't take him away," Y/N said, her voice cracking. Julie looked at her daughter, and saw the young scared girl breaking through her tough outer shell, "You know how messed up I was after dad. . . TJ gave me a reason to live. Jake can't fucking take my reason away,"

Julie rushed over to her daughter and held her tightly. Y/N had never told Julie about those first couple months she spent in New York. Y/N made the choice to go to New York after her father died a month before high school graduation. She couldn't stand being trapped within the four walls of the home his laughter once echoed through. Julie supported her daughter, even though it broke her to be alone, but she understood her. Everyone grieves differently and for Y/N, that was running to a new city.

"He won't take him completely away, but you'll have to learn to share. If you guys can work something out without going through the court, than that's great but just know if you can't. . ."

"I know," Y/N answered quietly, "I gotta take him his breakfast,"

Julie nodded and stepped aside as Y/N took the toast and oatmeal she had made for TJ and set it down on the table. She had prayed he didn't hear her yelling in the kitchen and that Sam and Danny had distracted him. Danny held the little boy on his lap, as they pieced together a puzzle and Sam was flipping through one of the children's books.

"Everything okay?" Danny asked when Y/N sat down.

"Yeah," Y/N said setting the plate down in front of TJ and kissing his forehead.

"He wants to come over," Sam said looking at the girl. Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "I can take TJ to my parents house if-"

"No," Y/N responded, "He can come over."

Sam nodded and texted his brother that he could come over. Jake must have been waiting outside the front door, cause as soon as Sam put his phone down, his older brother was walking through the door. Y/N refused to make eye contact with him, as he walked over and greeted TJ. Josh sauntered in after him, and kissed Y/N's forehead, grabbing a seat next to her.

"How are you feeling?"

"I didn't try and drown myself in the bathtub," Y/N said, knowing exactly why he was asking.

"I didn't say that-"

"No, but that one did," Y/N said pointing at Sam. Sam held his hands up in defense and wiped the crumbs from TJ's face, "You plan on staying in jammies all day?" Y/N asked her son, who shot her a bright smile and nodded his head, "Nice try. There's the farmers market today, you still want to go and see if we can find that train you wanted?"

"Yes!" TJ yelled.

"Come on, big man, I'll help you," Jake said and picked his son up from Danny's lap. Y/N watched as they both walked out of the kitchen and ascended up the stairs.

"Are we going to act like you're not being fucking weird?" Danny asked.

"How am I supposed to act?" Y/N shrugged, "That's his son, I've already kept him away for 3 years. I can't keep him away any longer,"

"You also don't need to jump into playing house, either," Josh said and the other two boys agreed, "You're TJ's mom, his guardian. You tell Jake what's up, that there are ground rules. Just because he knows the truth, doesn't mean he gets to dictate everything that gets done. You have a routine and a life, you've had that established for 3 years. Don't let my brother bulldoze shit,"

"Josh is right," Sam said and grabbed her hand, "Don't let him control this situation. I know you want the bright, happy family picture, but don't let that be at the expense of your happiness,"

Y/N nodded, but felt like her head was swimming. She had her mom trying to prep her to share custody and the boys telling her to fight for it. She didn't know what was easier at this point, completely ignoring that Jake was even in the equation, or learning how to adapt to it. She hadn't even told Tayler the truth about TJ's paternity.

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

"Okay, sharks or. . . sea turtles?" Jake asked holding up two shirts.

"Those are box turtles!" TJ said pointing at the shirt with turtles on it.

"Oh, my bad," Jake blushed, "So the box turtles?" TJ nodded and Jake helped him slip it on over his head. Jake pulled his shirt down and ruffled the boy's growing brown hair, "How do you like Nashville?"

"I love it!" TJ said with wide eyes, "Momma and Tayler take me to the studio. And sometimes Momma will take me to Memphis. I like music, Uncle Jake."

Jake didn't know his heart could grow any bigger with love for the little boy in front of him. Hearing his own son talk about his love for music was everything Jake could ever want. His mind filled with images of Y/N teaching TJ about the history of music and her favorite artists and instruments. TJ was like Jake, curious and eager to learn.

"I askeded Momma for a guitar for Christmas, and she said maybe, but I gotta keep learning piano first," TJ said, "I don't like playing piano with shoes on though,"

"Neither does Uncle Sammy," Jake laughed, "Uh. . . what about your daddy, TJ?"

"I haven't met him yet. Momma says he's really cool though, and plays a magical red guitar," TJ explained and went over to his suitcase and found a beat up composition notebook. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the notebook. He could remember clear as day Y/N carrying it around with a vice grip. The very words to many of their songs were down on the lines of the notebook. TJ pulled out an old polaroid of a red '61 Gibson Les Paul SG. TJ handed Jake the picture carefully like it would break.

"Momma doesn't know I took it," TJ whispered, "But she said it's my daddy's magical guitar."

Jake clenched his jaw, trying to bite back tears that filled his eyes. Jake could remember the exact day she took the photo, messing around with her new polaroid camera she had thrifted from a local thrift store. Jake had gotten annoyed with Y/N and Josh fluttering around the basement taking picture after picture, that Jake had yelled at her. He would never forget the look on her face as she was trying not to cry. She had left without telling any of them as the rehearsed, and left her camera on the coffee table. It was later after rehearsal that Jake found the series of photos she had taken, most were of him.

"TJ, I-"

"Hey, buddy! You ready to go?" Sam said bouncing into the room. Sam glanced at the polaroid in Jake's hand and the unreadable expression on his older brother's face, "TJ, why don't you go see what Uncle Josh is packing for lunches. I think your mom said something about a picnic in the park."

"You gots it Uncle Sammy!" TJ smiled and ran past him and down the stairs.

"I'm guessing you still have the others that go with that one?" Sam said gesturing to the picture. Jake nodded and fished his wallet out of his jeans. He pulled out one of the polaroids Sam was talking about. Y/N sat on Jake's lap, the red Les Paul resting on her thighs as she strummed some chords, bright smiles on both their faces. On the back of the polaroid in Y/N's faint, cursive handwriting it read: 'Light My Love'. "I don't know why you waited so long to make a move on her."

"I don't know either," Jake said shoving the polaroid back into it's home, "I just thought, I wasn't good enough for her, ya know. I was just Jake, the wannabe rockstar, and she was Y/N, the next editor of Vogue or some shit." Jake shook his head, "I wanted her to soar, to fly, to do whatever the hell she wanted. I didn't know at the time we would be doing what we are doing. Playing to sold out crowds all over the world. Hell, I didn't even think we'd sell out some of the small venues we played back in the day."

"You're a fucking idiot," Sam said, "You both are."

"Thanks, Samuel,"

"There's nothing you can change now, but be there for her as best as you can. You know how stubborn she is, she's not just gonna let you in with open arms." Sam explained, "It would be different if it was just her. . . but it's not."

"I thought I could just tell him," Jake said, "Tell TJ, 'Hey, I'm your dad,' but I couldn't. I thought it would be easy. They made it look easy in Star Wars,"

"Well clearly it's not, or Y/N would've told you 3 years ago," Sam said and Jake suddenly felt guilty for the way he reacted, "She doesn't hold grudges and you know that. She forgave that dickwad Cody for ditching her the night of prom. She'll forgive you too."

"When did you get so wise, baby bother?" Jake asked Sam, standing up from TJ's bed, "What do I do now?"

"Someone had to be the mediator between you two," Sam joked, "You just be there for her. You guys live in the same city, talk it out, set something up. Baby steps, Jake, don't try and do the whole house thing quite yet."

Jake nodded and Sam threw his arm around his big brother. Jake smiled and they both walked out of the room and down to the living room of the Parker house. Y/N looked absolutely stunning in a maxi white sundress, that made her skin look even more sun kissed than it already was. Her long black hair was tied up in a pony tail with a soft polkadot scarf. Jake thought she looked perfect, as she was kneeling down to put TJ's Birkenstocks on his feet.

"You went with the river turtles?" Y/N asked her son.

"Box turtles actually," Jake said walking over to them, "Little man already schooled me on the different turtles,"

"Uncle Jakey needs to study," TJ smiled and Y/N laughed. She kissed the little boy's cheek before standing back up.

"Alright, everyone ready?" She asked looking around the living room, "Who's going with who?"

"Danny, and Sam are coming with me," Josh said and Y/N nodded slowly.

"Looks like it's us and TJ in my car," Y/N said and Jake gave a small nod, "Okay, TJ, how's your head?"

"Tough!" TJ said and knocked on the top of his head. Y/N shook her head as Jake laughed, "Come on, momma! I want to find the train!"

"Okay, okay!" Y/N said and grabbed her purse and the little boy's hand as he bounded out of the house. Jake followed behind them. He watched over her shoulder as she buckled him into his booster seat, "You want to drive?" She asked Jake.

"Yeah, sure. The farmer's market on main?" Jake asked.

"Yeah," Y/N said handing him the keys, "But you're going to probably want to park on Elmwood. Main will be completely blocked off."

Jake nodded and climbed into the driver's seat of the car. Y/N turned on her aux, and then looked over her shoulder at TJ, "Any song requests?"

"Sugar!" TJ yelled and Y/N nodded. She found the song, cranking up the sound. Jake looked at the title of the song on her dashboard and laughed to himself. He looked in the rearview mirror and could see TJ shaking his head around, completely jamming out to the Fall Out Boy song.

"Am I more than you bargained for yet!" Y/N and TJ both sang loudly. Jake couldn't help the smile that flooded his face. His lips moved and sung along to the words of the song. Jake looked over at Y/N, who's eyes met his.

"Remember when we saw them in Chicago?" Jake asked over the music.

"And Sam complained the whole time, but sang every single word," Y/N laughed, "The best 18th birthday gift a girl could get,"

"First time I kissed you," Jake said and Y/N blushed, "Or you kissed me. I can't really remember, how it all went down. But right at the end of this song."

Y/N bit her lip as Jake found a parking spot. They both climbed out of the jeep, and Jake went to the backseat, to help TJ out of his carseat. He put the little boy on the ground, and TJ turned around and held out his small hand. Jake's heart swelled and held out his larger hand for TJ to grab on to. Y/N glanced at the two as they met her on the side walk.

"I kissed you," She muttered, "It was to shut that blonde girl with the horrible high lights up. She wouldn't stop talking about how hot and 'bangable' you were. So I did something about it,"

Jake smirked and at her, "Bangable?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Jacob." Y/N rolled her eyes and spotted the other three boys walking towards them.

The small group of them meandered through the busy Main Street. Living in a small town had it's perks, everyone seemed to participate in the weekly farmers market. You could find almost anything you needed and wanted from fresh produce, to home made honey. Y/N picked up some jams and honey that she planned on taking back to Nashville. She also grabbed some produce that her mom had on her list. TJ found several crystals and soaps he thought smelled good. Jake dug through record bins to find some that caught his eye.

Jake looked over at Y/N who was smiling brightly at a jewelry vender, her eyes locked on a pair of amethyst crystal earrings. Jake smiled at the vender he was currently at and handed him some money for the woven bracelet in his hand. He walked over to Y/N and gently placed his hand on the small of her back.

"Oh!" Y/N said startled, "Do you think your mom would like these? It's your guys' birthstone,"

Jake nodded at the pair of diamond earrings in her hand, "I think so. What about these, I saw you looking at them?" Jake picked up the purple gem stone earrings that Y/N was looking at.

"Oh, I didn't bring enough cash to get both,"

"I got them," Jake said, "How much?"

"Don't worry about it," The older lady said smiling at the two of them, "On the house. You know, Saint Valentine, the patron saint of all romantics wore an amethyst ring,"

"Did he now?" Jake asked, "Interesting,"

Y/N smiled and handed the lady the money for the diamond earrings. She wrapped up both sets of earrings before handing Y/N a cute gift back. Y/N and Jake walked over to where Sam was with TJ, deciding on which train he wanted to buy. Jake kept his arm around Y/N's waist, and she didn't seem to mind it.

"How's it going, buddy?" Y/N asked the little boy, "You hungry yet? I was thinking we could go to Hudson Park for lunch."

"Why? So you can go skinny dipping in the pond again?" Danny asked with a smirk.

"I was 17!" Y/N said holding her hands up in defense, "And you two," She said pointing to Danny and Sam, "Encouraged me to do it, and then took my clothes!"

"I, am the innocent one in this situation," Danny said and pointed at Sam, "The clothes idea was all him,"

"Was it not funny though when the cops showed up!?" Sam added.

"No!" Danny and Y/N both said at the same time.

Sam rolled his eyes and handed Y/N the toy train that was in his hands, "We couldn't decide between the green one or the orange one, so we got both."

"Yeah!" TJ exclaimed, holding up the orange train in his hands, "Uncle Sammy got them for me!"

"What do we say?" Y/N asked her son.

"Thank you, Uncle Sammy,"

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

The group ended up going to Hudson Park for lunch. Y/N sat back against a tree in the shade, as she watched Jake try and teach TJ how to skip rocks across the water. She looked down at her lock screen on her phone and sighed, the picture of her, TJ and Tayler stared back at her. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. TJ grew up knowing Tayler as his father figure, she feared it would be confusing throwing in another stranger into the mix. She knew kids adapted quickly, but just how quickly was the answer.

Y/N brushed off the thoughts and sat up straighter as Jake came walking up to her. He looked amazing, his white shirt unbuttoned showing off his tan chest, and green skinny jeans that showed off his muscular legs. Y/N had braided his hair while they ate, and he looked almost too perfect with the fallen strands framing his face. Y/N looked past Jake to check on TJ, who was now trying to catch frogs with Sam.

"Kid wears me out," Jake grunted, laying on the soft blanket, placing his head in Y/N's lap. She smiled and her hands went right to his hair, brushing the fallen strands back, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," You answered.

"You're a shit liar, you know that. What's up, seriously, I know it's been a lot in the past few days. And I'm sorry for how I acted about TJ."

"I am the one that should be apologizing," Y/N answered, fiddling with her fingers, "Jake. . . promise me you won't take him from me."

Jake sat up abruptly and saw the tears in her eyes, "I would never do that," He said sincerely, "Your his mother, and from what I can see, he's healthy and happy, has clothes on his back, looks well feed, super fucking smart- which I don't know where he got that from, cause it's certainly not from me-"

"Jake," You said brushing your tears back, "I don't think it's wise to tell him."

"Tell him? That I'm his dad?" Jake said confused, "Why not?"

"He's only 3 and he sees Tayler as-"

"You're fucking joking."

"I don't think-"

"I don't give a fuck. I'm his dad, I'm the father. Don't you think you've kept enough things from me, and you're going to deprive me even more of it?"

"You can be around-"

"But just as 'Uncle Jake'?" He spat.

Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to push away the tears and that sinking feeling in her body. Every thought she had in her mind was going back to Jake dragging her into court and taking TJ away from her. Y/N opened her eyes and looked at Jake, who was fuming.

"I am his mother, and I say, we wait-"

"I know I said I wouldn't take him away from you, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to fight to see my son," Jake said, getting off the ground. Y/N watched as he walked away and back over to the boys and TJ. Y/N looked away from them and wiped her tears away. This wasn't how she expected her last day home to go.

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

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[innytoes]

Trying to write more prompt fic but my brain is stuck in the Rose/Ray/Reggie AU universe, where Reggie is the one who survived the hotdog incident.

Because can you imagine the chaos the show would be in that universe. Julie lost her mom but she still has her Papi and her Dad. She goes to clean out Mom and Dad’s Studio, and finds this old CD. She puts it on, and BAM there’s her ghosts, normal chaos, lots of screaming.

And then Reggie goes to check on her instead of Ray and the guys are like: Wait, is that Reggie? He looks so old. Alex is disgusted. “He looks like a dad.” (Julie: Stop >=( Reggie: Okay, sorry. I’ll leave you be.)

Bobby is super pissed to learn that not only did Luke ruin his shot with the cute bartender girl, but Reggie got together with her instead, and if Bobby had stayed to flirt with her, he wouldn’t have died. Insert a slap-fight between Bobby and Luke.

Luke is not sure if he’s proud of Reggie for making it and becoming a famous artist, or upset because he’s a famous country artist. Alex is just like: so Reggie married a boy and a girl at the same time? Guy had his bisexual awakening like three days before we died and really committed, huh.

Luke tries to play Julie a little bit of Bright and she’s like: oh, okay so you want to sample... a lullaby. That’s a weird flex but okay?

And Luke is like: what are you talking about? That’s a classic Sunset Curve song.

And Julie is like: my dad sang that to me every night when I was little.

(Reggie didn’t steal Luke’s songs because he can’t bear to play them without his friends there, but he did want to share them with his family.

Don’t think about Rose and Ray listening to Reggie on the baby monitor, crooning ‘life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump, together I think that we can make it' at their newborn daughter when it’s his turn to lull her back to sleep. Because every day he chooses to keep going despite his grief, and he throws himself into the life he built with Ray and Rose.)

In this universe Julie 100% knows how to fiddle. She was going to be part of her dad’s new album, but then Rose died, so Reggie scrapped those songs. And probably has furious phone conversations with the label like: Julie is grieving and if I even get a whiff of any of you assholes trying to pressure her into doing this, I will torpedo my entire career and quit your label, because that is my daughter and she comes before anything else.

Also in this universe when Alex is not around Willie, he’s hanging out with Reggie. Because he hates change but deep down Reggie hasn’t changed at all. So he happily chatters his ear off about Willie while Reggie putters around the house and does the dishes (because he never could sit still during their regular gossip sessions anyway, so it’s like nothing’s changed) and Julie is like: this is new.

And Alex is like: no it’s not, I was his best friend before you were even born, now listen to your uncle.

And of course it all comes out much sooner that Julie’s new band is Reggie’s old band because she already knew a little about them (even though Reggie didn’t talk about them much because of all the grief) and she couldn’t keep that from her dad. And Reggie has a minor breakdown because he can’t believe this, he refuses to, because if the guys were ghosts where the hell have they been the past 25 years while he’s been grieving them, this is a really cruel trick to play on your dad, Julie.

So she sits him down and plays with the guys and woosh there they are, and during the bridge Alex looks Reggie dead in the eyes and says: your beard makes you look like Mr Richardson our 7th grade math teacher.

Reggie shaves it off that evening.

[chasingpj]

𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

"You’re really sweet, water boy.”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,379

warnings: angsty, mentions of breaking down, one curse word

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! I hope you guys like this chapter. If you have any feedback let me know. i've read this chapter over like 1,000 times while editing so i can't even give my own opinion on this chapter lol. i hope someone likes it at least cause i'm a little iffy about this one.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality!”

The singing voices of the Apollo cabin harmonize as Atticus stands in the middle of their cabin, eyes closed with his arms swaying side to side in the air. You sit against the window frame at the end of the room, your lips curl in a soft smile as Harvey prances around his feet, enjoying the spotlight as much as Atticus is. You were glad that Atticus was still up for karaoke night despite his mood. Although you didn’t plan on coming yourself, you had hoped that he would as he needed it as an outlet to let loose. A part of you wasn’t surprised when Atticus was begging you to come with him, insisting that your plan of staying in and sleeping early was too lame for a Friday night at camp. You didn't want to make him upset so you decided to suck it up and go with him. Besides, you did need to get out.

The past few days, you’ve had your nose in books, drowning out your thoughts with everything from studying demonology to enjoying fantasy novels. You’ve been keeping an eye on Lou Ellen as well, noticing that she too was avoiding her feelings by drowning herself with books back to back. And now, as a result of your similar coping mechanism, you two have an exclusive book club where you spend hours reading and mercilessly criticizing Twilight. Meanwhile, Atticus has been up and around, constantly surrounding himself with people to distract him. He seemingly was doing fine on the surface, but it was a facade. Sorrow was radiating off of him like never before. Even if you didn’t have the ability to sense his emotions, his song choice for tonight was a dead giveaway. Bohemian Rhapsody is his comfort song.

“I’m just a poor boy. I need no sympathy!” Atticus sings passionately into the microphone. Cheers break throughout the cabin, and you giggle, joining in, cupping your mouth as you whoop for him. You look over at Lou Ellen, talking and laughing with a few girls across the room. You smile, content that for right now, the two of them are occupied and happy. You, however, couldn’t get into the mood. Sure, the chaos of the Apollo Cabin easily entertained you, but you were having trouble shaking off the heavy feeling in your chest. You frown, your hand coming down to pet the top of Ambrose’s head, the other nuzzling his snout against your leg to comfort you. You look down at him, smiling softly as a silent thank you, and you sigh, hoping to lighten the feeling in your chest, but to no avail, it remained.

A nudge on your shoulder draws in your attention, and you turn to face the boys standing to your left. You meet Lee Fletcher’s bright blue orbs, a smile plastered on his flushed face.

“You’re next!” He shouts over the music, pointing his index finger at you in the same hand he held a red solo cup in. You scrunch your face, moving a little closer to him and the group so they’ll be able to hear you.

“I’m not really in the performance mood tonight,” you say, and the immediate protests from the boys around him made you smile. They insisted that you had to sing tonight and that they were going to make sure you went after your brother. On any other night, you would have agreed, gladly taking the mic. You weren’t a stranger to singing karaoke, and you had to admit you did enjoy it just as much as Atticus did. Last week, you sang an interesting rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls with Lou Ellen, Silena, Katie, and Sage. You were Scary Spice, of course; you wouldn’t have been anyone else. But tonight, you were unable to see yourself singing. Now that the boys returned to whatever they were talking about, you were planning your escape. You tune back into the song, realizing that Atticus was almost finished.

“Nothing really matters; anyone can see. Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters, to mee.”

You take a deep breath for a moment, accepting your fate. It’s only one song, you tell yourself; it’ll be quick. You cringe, expecting to be pushed up to the front by the others any second now. Suddenly, chanting fills the cabin,

“Encore, encore!"

Atticus smiles, bowing like a Broadway actor as the crowd cheers. You sigh, relieved, and you hoped whatever he picked would be able to conceal your exit. There was no way Atticus was going to pass up the microphone, and over the chanting, he announced his next song choice: Dancing Queen.

He’s so depressed.

You didn’t want to miss your opportunity, slowly scooting yourself away from Lee Fletcher and the others. As the instrumental of Dancing Queen fills the cabin, a chunk of people get up from the bunk beds and the floor to dance and sing along. You take your chance now that everyone is distracted, and you walk into the crowd, carefully weaving through bodies.

The cool summer night air was refreshing on your skin compared to the stuffiness of the crowded cabin. The collective singing of Dancing Queen becomes faint as you make it across the camp. You didn't realize how loud the song was while you were in there, and you could just imagine what the other cabins were doing. You couldn’t help but smile at the idea of an annoyed Ares' cabin, all of them with pillows covering their ears in an attempt to drown out the music and screaming.

By the time you reached the beginning of the woods, the disco instrumental was long gone, and you took in the stillness of the night. There was barely a breeze tonight; the only sounds were the faint chattering of campers hanging around the hearth and taking walks. You stare into the forest, uncertain if you should venture by yourself. You hear a soft whine come from Ambrose, signaling you that it was a bad idea. It was a couple of hours away from curfew, and you can already hear the faint roars of monsters. That wasn’t enough to turn you away, though. Your desire to be somewhere silent was more prominent than your fear of the monsters.

You walk in without another thought, your pace slow and slack, and Ambrose unwillingly follows close behind you, checking around to make sure you are safe. As you walk farther in the forest, the thoughts you had sent to the back of your mind were returning with a vengeance.

The departure of your siblings felt surreal. When you had woken up to their empty beds the next day, you had chosen to believe they had left for breakfast earlier than usual and that everything that happened was a dream. Yet, as the days went by, the absence of your siblings became more apparent. A part of you refused to grieve. You had wanted to declare your brothers as monsters and convince yourself that you didn’t care. You had hoped that deciding to hate them would allow you to move on, but even that came with a desolate aftertaste.

You had blacked out in your thoughts, allowing your feet to take you where they wished, and you find yourself at a familiar boulder. You look to your left at the picnic table, staring longingly at it. It was quiet for a moment before the sight of your brother and sisters sitting on the top of the picnic table, their feet resting on the bench, appeared. They sat quietly, Atticus frowning as he looked out in the forest.

“Focus on your breathing. You won’t shift if you’re impatient.” Your gaze snaps in the direction of the voice. You saw yourself slouched in defeat as Alabaster’s hands gripped your shoulders. His green eyes peered into yours.

You were the only one that hadn’t become ethereal after trying for the past 30 minutes. Atticus had transformed on his second try, Lou Ellen on her third, and the others followed close after. But you had lost count, growing more tired and discouraged after every failed attempt. Alabaster noticed you were on the verge of tears, your lip trembling, and he easily saw that you were crawling into a bad headspace.

“I can’t do it,” you sniffled, feeling embarrassed as your siblings waited for you. You were aware they weren’t judging you and had instead been encouraging you the entire time, but you still felt ashamed. The voices in your mind taunted you, making you forget any positive feedback you received that day. You were the weakest link of the group. You were never going to be powerful as your brothers, and so you’ll never be recognized by your mother, it said.

“You can, Y/n. You’re getting too in your head,” Al reassured you, his hands falling to his side, taking a step back. You were confident that he had given up on you, and you didn’t blame him. You looked down at the ground and fiddled with your fingers. It was silent for a moment before you heard him sigh.

“Try again,” he said softly.

You groaned and rolled your eyes at yourself. You were drained from trying so long, and you were ready to accept your defeat and stomp away. You looked at Alabaster again as he patiently waited for you.

You swallowed hard, and you closed your eyes as you heard the encouraging words of your siblings. Their words failed to cancel out the negative thoughts in your own head, though. You were already bothered by the little voice that said you would never transform. You dwelled on being the last one and what made you feel worse was that it was nighttime - when your magic is at its strongest - yet you still hadn’t transformed. Maybe you weren’t as powerful as your brothers gave you credit for. Disappointment swirled in your stomach, clouding your brain, and your fist clenched as you tried to shake off the thoughts in your head. You were well aware that your mindset was holding you back. You inhaled deeply, somehow finding the will to set aside your negative thoughts.

You decided you won’t allow yourself to be the only person who couldn’t transform. You weren’t going to let your insecurity of being the “weakest link” get to you, at least not on that night. You huffed out and felt a tug in your core before your fingertips and toes began to vibrate. You gasped, and your eyebrows furrowed tightly, the vibrating sensation gradually becoming more intense to the point where it almost hurt.

You heard an excited cheer come from one of your sister's lips as the feeling crept up your arms and legs. It finally met your core, and it was as if a ball of warm, electric energy sat right in the pit of your stomach. You opened your eyes, immediately seeing the bright smile on Alabaster’s face. A relieved laugh came from your lips as a few tears ran down your face from your previously pent-up anger.

“I told you.”

You snap back to reality, looking around you to see that you were still alone. No one was at the picnic table other than Ambrose, who was laid down at the foot of it, watching you cautiously. You swore you heard the sound of Al’s voice as if he was right in front of you, but that wasn’t possible. As much as you wished for it to be, you knew your siblings were long gone.

Though you were incredibly grateful for Atticus and Lou Ellen deciding to stay, the dynamic that your siblings had as a whole was something that you wouldn’t be able to get back. Now it was the three of you, left to figure things out on your own. It’s not as if you three were incapable of figuring things out, but you’ll miss your brother's guidance.

You think perhaps if your mother didn’t give them the okay to leave, they would have never left. You couldn’t help but be mad at her, and lately, you’ve been a little petty towards your mom. Tonight, you had decided to go to dinner and dedicate your burned offering to Hestia instead. You’ve been praying to her every night as well, hoping that maybe she’d be able to bring your siblings back to you.

You hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary to inform you if your mother was aware of your silence or if she cared. You also found yourself wondering what she thought of you for not leaving. How could she not visit you? Were you really not worth, maybe, five minutes of her time? Did you have to prove yourself worthy? If so, how? You were yearning to know, but even for that, you were unable to find the answer.

Your jaw clenches, feeling your sorrow shifting to rage in your core. Take a deep breath, Ernest would say, and you do, filling your lungs to their capacity, and you hold it. Think of your surroundings. Meditate on the question: If I erupt, will I hurt someone? If the answer is yes, take a step back, breath in for 10 seconds, out for another 10 until you’re calm. If the answer is no… well, fuck it. Everyone needs to be angry sometimes.

Your head tilts slightly, taking in the clear night sky for a moment. From your peripheral vision, you can see your green aura wildly swirling and flickering around you. You close your eyes, and your chest expands, ready to release the air you’ve been holding. There was no rustling of the trees or grass, no monster screams, no sounds of the surrounding camper. The forest was still until it wasn’t as you let out a deafening scream.

After hearing the news of your siblings running away from camp at the counselor's meeting a few days ago, Percy had made a mental note to check up on you. In the time between his activities, he had checked the strawberry fields, the arts and craft center, even the arena in an attempt to find you. For a moment, he had thought you had left with them, but when he saw that Atticus was still at camp, he knew you had to be somewhere. It wasn’t until he passed by the Hermes dinner table the other day did he decide to ask your brother where you were. By then, you had not shown up for your meals for two days straight. Atticus told him that you weren’t doing too good, deciding to isolate yourself in the company of Lou Ellen. He had offered to let Percy come with him to drop off your dinner, but he had decided not to go.

He figured that you needed time for yourself, and he didn’t want to intrude. He was also worried if it would have been weird to check up on you. Surely, you were friends? You considered him as a friend, right? He hoped so since he had considered you one. He thought maybe he was overthinking it but then he began to worry that you would blame him. He had to do some mental gymnastics to come up with a reason why you would be mad at him, but he was able to come up with something. He would understand if you were mad at him since he is, well, suspected to be the child of the prophecy. So obviously, none of this would have happened if he wasn’t born? Right? He had told Annabeth about it, and from the way she blankly stared at him, he knew that the reason wasn’t solid, but still, he was nervous.

He was surprised to see you walk out of the Apollo Cabin. After hearing that you were hiding away, he didn’t expect you to attend one of the most lively events tonight. From afar, you seemed upset, but you also glinted with determination as you walked with purpose. He was seated with Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia by the campfire, listening to Annabeth ramble about the architecture of the Palace of Versailles to Thalia and Grover. It was her newest hyper fixation, and Percy had been listening though he got a little lost at some point. He didn’t want to lose his chance to approach you, not sure when the next opportunity would be so he quickly finished up the s’more he was eating before getting up from the bench.

“Um, I’ll be back,” he says. The only person who had heard him was Grover, who nodded to acknowledge him while Annabeth didn’t miss a beat in her ranting.

He checked in the usual places you would hang out in, but you were nowhere to be found. He found himself walking along the gravel road in front of the forest. He slows down, turning toward the trees and he hums,

“Did she go in there by herself?” He mutters softly, becoming concerned. It was kind of an unspoken rule that campers shouldn’t venture out on their own.

He looks over when he hears chattering, the wood nymphs slowly making their way out of the forest. They seemed to be gossiping about something as they huddle in a circle right outside of the trees. Percy found it strange that they were away from their homes, especially at this time, and he noticed they all looked a little stunned.

“Hey,” he smiles as he walks over to them. He halts hesitantly, the girls becoming quiet as they turn to him. “Have you guys seen, y/n?”

They exchange looks with each other, Juniper shifting on her feet as she stands in front of him. “Yeah…” she trails off, facing the dark trees. “Just keep walking. You’ll hear her.”

Percy furrows his eyebrows, unsure what they meant by that, but he takes their advice anyway. It didn’t take him long to find out what they meant, hearing your yelling before he saw you illuminating in the dark. He had imagined that you would be upset, but he definitely did not expect you to be yelling at the sky, rapidly throwing blasts of energy at a boulder.

Seeing you like this was odd. It was so different from the calm and collected demeanor that you gave off. He had considered you as the quieter twin. Compared to your brother, you weren’t as out there. He hadn’t seen you have many interactions with Atticus, but he could tell that you took on the big sister role. You just seemed more mature.

“How could you- how could you offer something like that?! I’ve never seen you once an- the first message I get from you is to join his stupid army! You took them from us!” You ignore the burning in your throat and the trembling of your arms. You felt lightheaded, and you didn’t know if it was due to how hard you were yelling or the amount of energy you were burning out. “I HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” You shout weakly, looking up at the sky, hoping that your mother was listening to you. You wanted her to know how you felt betrayed, angry, and heartbroken.

Despite your anger, you still held back on what you said. You were wary not to push too far, preferring to not meet your mother's wrath the first time she visited you. You wanted an explanation; you wanted to hear the orders and the promises she made from herself. But you doubted she would appear.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, your breath ragged, and you wail, blasting the last long beam you were able to muster at the boulder. You stumble from your own force, a sob leaving your lips, and your forearm wipes your tears.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,” you strain in a whisper.

You gasp as you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze in your spot, your heart beating hard in your chest. You were confident that you had summoned your mother. You took a deep breath, ready to face her, but to your surprise, you were met with Percy.

Percy's body tenses the moment you snap your gaze to him, swallowing hard as your glowing eyes bore right into his. He was hoping that his speculations of you being mad at him were wrong. The burning smell from your beams filled the air, and he definitely did not want to be charred up like that boulder. To his relief, he watches your clouded expression soften. He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” He asks, immediately cringing at himself afterward. Of course, she isn’t okay, why would you ask her that?

You sniffle, and you nod, “Yeah, I’m just doing my nightly prayers.” Though you tried to lighten up the mood, your voice was sad and hoarse.

Percy frowns, and he steps over a log in his way. He walks over to you as you plop down to sit on the grass with your legs crossed. Ambrose comes to your side, resting his head on your thigh, and you pet him softly.

“I heard what happened,” Percy’s tone is soft as he hesitantly invites himself to sit beside you. He wasn’t sure you wanted to be comforted right now, but you didn’t tell him to go away, so he took that as a good sign. He hums, looking down at his hands, “Travis reported it during the counselor meeting the day after,” he mentions. “Atticus told me you weren’t doing too well. I can’t do much, but if you want to talk about it, I’m listening.”

You didn’t want to dump everything on Percy, but the genuine concern in his tone made you feel comfortable enough to consider laying all your thoughts out on the table.

You haven't had the chance to discuss your feelings yet. There was a silent understanding between you, Atticus, and Lou Ellen that none of you were ready to bring it up and would rather go along your days pretending it didn’t happen. But as you continued to avoid it, it began to fester like an infected wound.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize for how long you were quiet. In your silence, Percy waited patiently, not wanting you to feel pressured. Every once in a while, he would look over, noticing the flickering of your aura slowing down until it’s absorbed into your body, leaving you both with the soft white light coming from Ambrose’s body. If you decided not to talk about it, he told himself he wouldn’t pry, but he would be worried about you for keeping everything in.

You didn’t know how much Travis had said at the counselors meeting. Your mind was rushing with thoughts, asking yourself where you should start while also deciding if you should be completely honest with him. It wasn’t until now that you were faced with all the conflicting feelings you’ve had in the past few days. They came at you all at once, and a sniffle cuts through your silence. You sigh shakily, resting your head on Percy’s shoulder.

Percy looks down at you, able to make out some of your features in the dark. Your eyelids were a little puffy from crying, and you look exhausted. He frowns as a small sob leaves your lips, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He debated if he should say anything to you. He didn't find that this was a situation where an “it’s okay” was appropriate. Kronos was rising, war was on its way, and Luke was recruiting campers, 5 of those campers being your siblings. None of that was okay. He felt a pang in his chest, grasping on to the fact that you’d be fighting against them when it was time for battle.

“I’m sorry,” your voice quivers. You hated feeling as if you were losing control of your emotions. You didn’t want Percy seeing you like this, and you began to feel embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry,” he shakes his head, and he opens his mouth to say something else but is too stunned when you pull away abruptly. Your gaze is fixed in the opposite direction as you try to catch your breath, hiccuping and gasping softly for a bit. “Y/n?”

“I almost left, and I feel guilty because a part of me regrets not leaving,” you blurted out the confession that was eating you up the most. It was what you were afraid to admit out loud, especially to Atticus and Lou Ellen. You didn’t want to admit that you, the one who found the courage to voice your opinion to your brothers, the one that declared she was staying at the camp, had begun to regret her decision. As much as you wished to not regret it, the what-if questions that filled your mind were hard to avoid. Were you actually missing out on the opportunity to be taught by your mother? Was it true what James said? Was deciding to stay a death wish?

You refused to look at Percy. You were wondering if he thought he was talking to a potential traitor to the camp. You were wondering if he would think of you differently now that you have confessed to having the slightest thought of joining Kronos.

Percy was lost for words, his face flashed with surprise, and he was glad you weren’t looking at him. He didn’t want you to think that he was judging you because he wasn’t; he was just taken aback. The tension between you started to thicken the longer he stayed quiet. His eyes scan the ground, frantically searching for something to say.

“Why did you stay?” He asks hesitantly.

Your teeth chew on the inside of your lip, and you now regret saying anything. You didn’t know if the shift in the air around the two of you was in your head, but either way, it bothered you.

“Because…” you trail off. The list of reasons why you stayed was long, and you didn’t want to go through all of them. You were determined to keep this conversation short, afraid that if you keep dwelling on this situation for too long, you will find more reasons to be angry.

“Because I’m not going to die for a cause I don’t believe in,” you declare. “I understand their side. I understand why they decided to leave. Alabaster was always saying that he wished things were different for us here at camp. I mean, so do I. They also had the approval of our mother, and they were promised to be taken care of if Kr- the Titan Lord wins. I can’t blame them for not giving that up because even I was hesitant to give it up,” you confess.

You sniffle softly, peeling the skin around your fingers before continuing, “But… for the change they're looking for, I don’t think this is the way to do it. Like really? Allying with him? Yeah, the gods are big jerks, but I don’t understand how he would be any different of a leader.” You sigh, “I considered leaving just to be with them, but I couldn’t go through with it. I wouldn’t feel right. I tried to convince them to stay, but they were set on leaving.”

Percy was quiet for a moment, and you found the courage to look up at him. His vision is fixed on the forest ahead before he meets your gaze. “I don’t think you should blame yourself for regretting not going. I think if I were in your position, I would have thought about the same things. They mean a lot to you. They’re your family.”

You nod, relieved that he understood where you were coming from. “Atticus was my last straw. If he had decided to leave, I would have left despite everything.”

“Understandable. He’s your twin,” Percy shrugs. You sigh shakily, your chest feeling a little lighter after being able to voice your thoughts. You felt more satisfied with yourself now. Your challenged morals felt solidified, and you decided with confidence that your choice was right for you.

“I give you a lot of props, Y/n. You were in a tough situation, and it must have been hard to stand your ground, especially since most of them decided to leave.”

“Yeah…” you say softly, and you realize that maybe you should have been kinder to yourself for having that feeling of regret.

“I think it’s really awesome what you did. Doing something like that takes a lot of guts,” Percy says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks…” you say shyly.

A soft smile plays on his lips, and he can tell you were starting to feel better. He was glad that he could help because he understood what you were feeling. He didn’t exactly go through the same thing, but he knew how it felt to second guess your choices and how it was easy to spiral when you dwelled on it for too long.

“You’re really sweet, waterboy. Thanks a lot," you say playfully as you return the smile. Your heart flutters as Percy’s face brightens before sheepishly looking away from you for a second.

He didn’t get compliments like that often. Well, he has, from his mom, but he didn’t count that. It wasn’t the same as getting the compliment from a girl, a girl as pretty as you are.

“I-it was nothing,” he moves his hand in a dismissive wave, and you giggle. “Well… I don’t know if you were done with your ‘prayer,’ but I think you should go back to the party in the Apollo Cabin. I’ll come with you. It sounded like a lot of fun in there."

"Ugh, but they’re going to make me sing,” you slouch, and Percy laughs at the slight pout on your face.

“I’ll sing with you,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows, surprised at his offer. You’ve only seen him at karaoke a few times, and he always stayed on the sidelines.

“You can sing?” You ask, amused. Percy definitely didn’t seem like the musical type.

“Nope, I’m pretty much tone-deaf, but I’ll embarrass myself for you since you had a rough day," he nudges you softly before standing up. You look up at him as he pats down his pants, and you lean back on your hands.

“I’m gonna pick a ballad so you can embarrass yourself even more," you smirk at him, and he stops patting his clothes, squinting at you.

“Don’t make me take it all back,” he jokes. He reaches his hand out to you, and you grab it, letting him help you up from the ground.

“You know, I’d kill to hear you sing a Britney Spears song," you mention as you pat your own clothes down and begin to walk out of the forest, Ambrose acting as your guide by trotting ahead of you.

Percy is quiet for a moment, and you glance over, positive that he's starting to regret his offer to sing with you.

"Please don’t do that to me.”

You laugh at him; the thought of Percy singing a Britney Spears song was way too funny to you. Percy gave you a cautious look, not sure if you were serious or not. “Fine, fine! I shouldn’t take advantage of your kindness,” you admit as your laugh ceases. Percy nods, playfully agreeing with you. “You listen to My Chemical Romance?” You ask, and he scoffs,

“Of course, I listen to My Chemical Romance.”

“Let’s sing Teenagers then,” you suggest. “It’s a crowd favorite. Everyone sings along, so no one has to suffer through your singing. What do you think?” you tease, and you take in his bright smile as he nods his head,

“Sounds good to me.”

masterlist taglist: @nct127bee @xxyrr @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr

[dontfeedmeaftermidnight]

Hey guys!! I'm trying out this new writing app called Dreamily! It's really cool! But this is a little something I tossed together for a test run!

@asknightmareanderror

I also think you would love this app hun! Try it out! :)

Dreams Ballad

Dream wasn't known for being gentle like his brother. The Phoenix was loud, sarcastic, and liked punching things. Dream wasn't graceful, he was a bit of a klutz, hot headed. He could be a little harsh and rude when it came to those he didn't care about. Dream couldn't remember the last time he saw his gentle side unless it was towards his brother, or his child.

When he'd started playing piano, Nightmare had first made fun of him.

"Brother, I love you, but you'll smash the keyboards to pieces! Even I could play it better than you!"

While Dream could have played better, his brother's voice had held such conviction that Dream knew his brother wouldn't be able to play better.

However, as the years went on, Nightmare had reluctantly acknowledged that Dream slowly got better and better- eventually becoming quite the master of the piano. Nightmare couldn't feel more proud of his older twin as he watched him progress, and soon they played side by side together, piano and violin music singing sweet rythems into the skies.

The two Gods played their emotions to each other, from sadness to happiness. The first time Dream had fallen for the arachnid village girl than ran a bakery, Nightmare cried tears of joy. Proud his brother was in love.

Then, tragically, the girl was slaughtered by the humans who held a grudge against the brothers. The grief that hit Dream was so great that even Nightmare felt the anguish echo through his soul. Nightmare vowed to help his twin find happiness, wanted nothing more than to see Dream happy. Yet as hard as he tried, Nightmare simply couldn't seem to get Dream to smile.

Eventually, though, Nightmare found the one solution he could do; he began teaching Dream how to dance. It was hard, at first, but as both of them learned to move together in a comfortable rhythm, it became more enjoyable with practice. They spent hours dancing around their home, laughing and moving until they were sweaty and breathless.

It was a month later that something changed. Dream came across a girl, breathtakingly beautiful.

Dream fell head over heels for her. Nightmare, supporting his brother, did his best to keep the girl alive, and safe, explaining to her what happened to Dreams first love.

That night, Dream and the girl stayed up late talking, dancing, eating cookies... Dream couldn't stop thinking about her. He told Nightmare as much, his eyes pleading with his younger brother to protect the girl he loved.

Nightmare agreed immediately. "I'll make sure she is taken care of." He kissed Dream on the forehead before leaving to gather food.They were inseparable since then. Dream spent every moment he could with the girl, making sure she was never alone, always there by her side. They danced and sang songs of longing, and Dream hoped his dreams came true.

But then, The girl fell ill.

When she died, Dream refused to accept it. He buried himself in work, refusing to let anyone see just how broken he really was. Still grieving the death of his first love, took his anger out on the world as well, throwing himself into battles and fighting until exhaustion claimed him. His brother worried and worried about Dream. The only thing keeping him going was the fact that no matter how many times Nightmare pleaded, Dream was determined not to get help from anyone. Although, after several days without sleep, Dream collapsed, exhausted.

"... I'm sorry..." Dream had kept muttering over and over again. Nightmares heart shattered into a million pieces for his poor brother.

He wished he could tell his brother that Dream would heal. But the truth was, Dream was already dead. Anger had replaced a hollow, twice broken heart. Dream had told his brother he'd never fall in love again.

When Nightmare had fallen in love, Dream was excited, and he finally smiled. It made Nightmare cry. When Nightmare had gotten married, Dream was sobbing so hard, he passed out and fell into the wedding cake, very much to Nightmares amusement.

Then, it happened again. Dream fell in love too, and he was terrified. Scared that when he blinked his eyes, the taller leviathan would just collapse. So, Dream stayed by Horror's side, the Sin of Gluttony amused, confused, but he just patted the top of His Majesty's head and let him.

Then, that... Thing showed up. Chara. Using Hate, a substance caused for turning souls into monsters, or shattering those souls, killed almost every bring in heaven and hell. The boys had did their best to drive her out, but ultimately failed.

Now, Dreams heart aches. He blinks. No, it didn't just... ache.

He looked down at the grinning, evil bitch, her arm peirced through his chest. Then, she laughs. The sound sickens him more than anything else has.

She steps back, allowing the hole to close. Dream collapses, his body growing cold and dark. His body is cold and dark. A black void. Dream can hear the voices, screaming...

No. This isn't happening! Dream tries to sit up.

He can't die, he's a God, he's immortal, unkillable.

As his eyes slip closed, he hears his brother scream, the world around him started to break due to his brothers unleashed magic. All the while, a sweet melody played in his head. One that he's played for such a long time, the piano notes trilling in his ears.

A ballad of pain.

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter three // didn’t care much how long i lived

summary: bucky receives a lesson on modern music over cheap beers and freshly baked scones.

warnings: mentions of abuse, food, alcohol consumption, character death (sorry)

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: besties...how we feeling about today’s episode??? using this as a coping mechanism :)

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Your record collection was extensive and collecting an unhealthy layer of dust since you had inherited them from your grandmother. It didn’t take long to fish out a Best Of album from the vast shelves, handing over the sleeve to Bucky, who sat patiently on your forest green couch, as you fiddled with the turntable’s needle.

To busy himself, he read over the repertoire of songs listed on the back.

“Let’s Get It On?”

“Usually, a guy buys a girl dinner first, Bucky.” You took a cheeky swig of your beer with an eyebrow raise as he flushed at the insinuation. “We’ll start easy. If I Could Build My Whole World Around You. A criminally under-appreciated love song.”

A bouncy beat crackled through from the speakers as you settled into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. Today’s choice of pajama bottoms displayed little snowflakes across a navy background, despite the heat outside that still lingered into nighttime.

“I like it.” Bucky decided.

“Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell have so many amazing songs together. She might not sound like it on record, but she had a hard life. Abusive, cheating partners. Brain cancer that killed her young. Hard to know what anyone’s going through behind closed doors.”

I’d put so much love where there is sorrow, I’d put joy where there’s never been before.

“I really like it.”

Your apron still hung from your waist, the gentle tick of the kitchen timer in the shape of a grey cat sat by your side. A reminder of the scones you were whipping up when Bucky unexpectedly appeared on your doorstep. You didn’t question him or bring up the late hour. Simply ushered him in with a smile and a beer shoved into his gloved hand.

Bucky feels comfortable for the first time in a long time. Eyes focused, mind stagnant. Your perfume, woodsy and natural, lingers in the air and he has to take a long gulp of his drink just to occupy himself for just a second.

“I’m glad you like it. Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Marvin Gaye. It’s like not liking Queen.”

“Queen?”

The timer rattled on the coffee table and the smell of vanilla and blueberries nipped at Bucky’s nose.

“Saved by the bell! I don’t have the time to berate you on not knowing about Queen.”

You bustled your way back into the kitchen, sliding oven mitts onto your hands as you inspected the oven with a professional certainty. The record out and into the next track as Bucky watched on, your shoulders swaying to the slow tempo. You were light on your feet as you plucked one tray from the heat and replaced it with another.

It was so easy for Bucky to imagine this world as his, with the soft swing of Motown as the soundtrack to your shared afternoons. In a different life, he would come home to your baking, ask how studying went as you swayed in the kitchen together. You would wash dishes next to one another, hips pressed close, and giggle when he would press his sudsy hands onto your cheeks. You would smear remnants of cake batter on his and he would let you feed him dessert from your fingers.

It wasn’t possible, he knew. Probably ever. You would be graduating school soon, off to be an important attorney and he would still just be your across the hallway neighbor who you sometimes shared desserts and pleasantries with. You would find out who he was eventually. Everyone did. You would leave. Everyone did.

You would simply be another in a long line of failed attempts by James Buchanan Barnes.

Still, he thought, we can have this one simple night. Where you don’t know who he is, and he can imagine that it lasts long after he retreats back to his apartment.

‘Heaven must have sent you from above.’ Crooned the lovesick singers on your record player.

As you returned to the living room with another beer and the promise of scones as soon as they cooled, Bucky could only think one thing.

He was definitely starting to like Marvin Gaye.

He was starting to like you, too.

When he returned back to his apartment, hours later with a pile of records you insisted he borrow in his arms and a belly full of blueberry scones, he fell into bed without a care in his mind. It was his first full night of sleep in ninety years.

-

Bucky started appearing on your doorstep more often.

Your number was now saved in his phone and was his most frequently used contact. You were his secret, though, something he didn’t even share with Dr. Raynor. No matter how many times she tried to get him to speak about his troubling lack of acquaintances.

You were the one thing in the world untouched by all the destruction waging a war between his ears, you were easy and simple and God, it had been a long time since anything had been simple. You didn’t mind that he was brooding and a little bit clueless, or his cheesy jokes and complaints about technology these days.

His record collection was quickly growing, though it was still nowhere near yours.

Most of all, he liked sitting in your apartment, at your kitchen counter or on that forest green sofa of yours. Sometimes, you would let him pick a record and tell him everything you could remember about it. Other times, you would read from your heavy law books and he’d pretend to understand the cases and terminology, head resting against the back of your couch, admiring how your brows would furrow in concentration. He’d tell you not to hunch over your book, but you’d insist you were fine, only to be complaining about your neck the next time he saw you.

“I wish I read more actual books, you know? It seems like all I know these days are case studies.”

The next visit he’d have a worn copy of one of his favorite books tucked under his arm. He’d read to you until you’d doze off to the stories of Bilbo Baggins and his team of dwarves, a blanket tucked up to your neck.

Every visit cemented yourself further and further into his identity, until his trips to the used bookstore down the block became weekly and his morning runs became longer as you pushed more and more baked goods his way. You’d kiss his cheek as you said your goodbyes, leaning against your doorframe as he disappeared into his apartment.

He was happy. Positively, unbelievably happy.

-

Two days before Bucky’s next scheduled visit, Steve died in his sleep.

Pneumonia, or something, Bucky didn’t really comprehend any of the newscast beyond the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD’ flashing in bold letters across his television screen.

Sam called early that morning and Bucky just knew. He knew what was waiting for him on the other end of that call, so he shut his phone off and laid back on the hardwood floor of his living room, dead to the world.

He didn’t speak to anyone for a few days, not even bothering with his daily runs or grocery store trips. Your knocks at his door went unanswered, with no trace that you had even stood in the hallway waiting for him other than a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies on his doormat. The only appointment he kept was his therapy, where he stared out the window and counted down the minutes until he could leave. Each attempt on Dr. Raynor’s part to bring up Steve was shut down as quickly as it was brought up.

Finally, a week later, a pounding at the door woke him from a restless afternoon nap.

“Buck, I know you’re in there.”

Sam. Of course.

“These boxes are heavy, come on!”

Sam Wilson took up Bucky’s entire doorway with his broad shoulders, the boxes stacked in his arms taking up the rest. Bucky was quick to usher him in the door, eyeing yours across the hall. He knew one look at an Avenger on his stoop would finally connect the dots for you, and you’d never speak to the Winter Soldier again.

“Keep your voice down.” Bucky shoved the final box through the doorway before securing the lock in place.

Sam surveyed his barren living room, eyes flicking to the crumpled bedsheets gathered on the floor next to his sofa but didn’t linger for long.

“I was worried about you, man.”

It used to be ‘we’, but now it’s just Sam.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky pushed past him to his kitchen, collecting stray dishes he hadn’t bothered to move to the sink before then. He felt Sam’s careful gaze on him the entire time. He hated that. He hated how much Sam cared.

He mostly hated how much it reminded him of Steve.

“Found these boxes in Steve’s attic. Had your name on them so I thought you might want ‘em.”

Bucky swallowed hard, focused on scrubbing the dishes under water so hot it was turning the skin on his flesh hand a violent red.

“I know this is hard, Buck-”

The glass he had been rinsing shattered between his fingers and Sam took a step back as Bucky heaved in uneven breaths. There was a long silence between the two grieving men, neither able to fully understand the other. Sam would never feel Bucky’s ninety-year heartache, the abandonment and fear of the life ahead of him. Bucky would never understand the weight on Sam’s shoulders or his unease at the shield tucked under his bed at home.

“I just want to be alone.”

Sam could do nothing but respect his wish.

“Call if you need anything.” Were his departing words as he showed himself out.

Bucky got to work cleaning up the broken glass.

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[dwellordream]

because i wanted to drop some expanded folklore/retelling/alternate interpretation recommendations:

the mere wife by maria dahvana headley: inspired by the epic Beowulf, the mere wife centers around dana, a traumatized young veteran who returns to her rapidly gentrifying mining home town to raise her son gren. mistrustful of society and humanity in general and terrified of losing gren, dana raises him in near total isolation in the mountains bordering herot hall, the first of many shining new suburban expansions.

as gren grows, he becomes curious about the world outside their cave dwelling and eventually befriends dylan, the troubled son of willa, a neurotic socialite with her own baggage. gren and dylan’s unlikely friendship becomes an increasing risk as they age into teenagers, as gren is everything the pampered, bigoted and fearful residents of herot hall have trained themselves to hate.

the mere wife is an extremely compelling tale of two scarred mothers as it switches perspectives between the privileged and dissonant willa and the hardened but loving dana, both of whom are trying to protect their children from the abuse and trauma they suffered as they grew into adulthood.

also a pretty searing look at police violence, the intersection of racism, classism, and homophobia, and the military industrial complex’s exploitation of impoverished black and brown youth to fight its wars.

i, tituba: black witch of salem by maryse condé: i, tituba is a satirical in one sense but deadly serious in another take on tituba, the slave accused of spreading witchcraft to the young puritan girls of salem.

it tells the epic life story of tituba, from her conception aboard a slave ship headed to the caribbean to her childhood as an orphan raised by her foster mother mama yaya, who teaches her the power of healing and communion with the dead.

while tituba grows up technically a free woman, living in the shadow of the plantations but without an owner, she willingly enters slavery again to be with her beloved john indian, and winds up sold to the cruel and tyrannical reverend samuel parris and transported to boston and then salem massachusetts alongside his terrified family.

i tituba systematically unpacks ‘the protestant work ethic’ of the ‘upright and noble pilgrims’ who carved out their existence on the backs of the enslaved and the indigenous population.

tituba suffers just about every abuse and humiliation imaginable but refuses to allow herself to be dissuaded from practicing her own spiritual practices and actively seeks to show compassion and care towards her captors, despite it repeatedly backfiring.

ultimately she survives the witch trials and finds herself back in barbados, where her final fate as a devoted rebel against the plantation system that killed her parents awaits.

the bloody chamber by angela carter: probably carter’s most well known and popular set of short stories, the bloody chamber is a series of original takes on the most gothic and disturbing of european folklore, from bluebeard and his murdered brides to beauty and the beast to all sorts of werewolf and vampire mythos.

carter’s language is as lush and purple prosey as ever, and she vividly paints a series of terrifying and alluring pictures of decrepit castles and manor houses, unhinged inbred aristocrats preying on the peasantry, vampiric maidens and girls raised by wolves, men turned into beasts and beasts turned into men, and lots of sex, gore, ghostly music, and rustling taffeta.

deathless by catherynne m. valente: yes, endlesssly overhyped by tumblr but still a very compelling take on the russian folklore of koschei the deathless and his mortal turned goddess bride, marya morevna, this time set in parallel with the unfolding of russian history in the 20th century.

valente gives an absolutely merciless look at the spiteful and selfish whims of gods and what it means to give up your humanity for love, as well as a tortured narrative surrounding power and control in intimate relationships and questions of gender roles and sexuality.

deathless is probably a most capital R Romantic romance, mostly because both marya and koschei have heaps of charm and beauty and passion... and heaps of obsession, jealous violence, and power hungry ambition.

wide sargasso sea by jean rhys: should be required reading for everyone who has devoured Jane Eyre, rhys’ novella tells the take of the reviled and scorned first wife of rochester.

born to a plantation owning family whose fortunes are crushed when the british empire bans slavery, antoinette grows up a lonely and emotional child, rejected by her grieving and closed off mother and longing for a family and place in the world.

as a young woman her stepfather arranges her marriage to rochester, who wants what’s left of her inheritance, and antoinette finds herself caught between her island home where she is still seen as the hated daughter of slave holders, and england, where she is seen as an impure creole woman who will never be able to conform to victorian propriety.

although initially hopeful of a loving marriage, antoinette quickly realizes that rochester’s passion for her is propelled by fear and insecurity, which quickly makes itself known as he turns against her, labeling her ‘bertha’ after her ‘insane’ mother and treating her as a mentally unstable invalid and then as little more than a prisoner.

lovecraft country by matt ruff: lovecraft country both skewers and embraces the eldritch abominations of hp lovecraft, and tackles his own inhuman racism head on, through the perspectives of the courageous and clever atticus turner and his eccentric and loyal extended family. their adventures take them all over america and into a series of increasingly horrifying encounters with cults, monsters, and white supremacy - sometimes all three at once.

circe by madeleine miller: not nearly as discussed as its predecessor The Song of Achilles, Circe tells the story of Circe, daughter of the arrogant sun god Helios and by some accounts, the ‘first’ witch and sorceress to walk the earth.

exiled to her own desolate island kingdom after defying the gods, Circe becomes a powerful and infamous enchantress, painted as a villain while the gods, who amuse themselves by tormenting and impulsively rewarding men in turn, are honored and venerated. circe quickly realizes her growing powers make her a threat to mortals and gods alike, and must decide what her legacy will be and if she cares at all.