#everyone wants to know how it ended and that clamouring for the truth is only adding to the stress she’s feeling

[dreamaboutwhathappens]

using “we hereby conduct this post mortem” as promotion leading up to the album, from a song where she herself was trying to figure out how it ended, knowing full well everyone was hoping to hear every gruesome detail about how it ended…… genius

[thisissirius]

must i imagine you there [ao3 link] eddie/buck, eddie week day three: competence + “we’re getting out of this.” bombs. hurt/comfort. fear of death. drama :))))

“Buck,” Eddie says, “stop moving.”

It’s a testament to how well they work together that Buck immediately stops. “What?”

Eddie slowly sinks to his knees, studying the device they’ve inadvertently disturbed. “Shit.”

“Eddie.” Buck’s still not moved, and Eddie relaxes a fraction. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a bomb,” Eddie says, because Buck deserves the truth. “Motion sensors. That red light on your chest?”

“The trigger,” Buck says. It’s the lack of inflection that hits Eddie. “You should go.”

Eddie ignores him, reaches for his radio. “Cap, you there?”

There’s a crackle from the other end. “Diaz? You okay?”

Buck shakes his head. Again, Eddie ignores him. “We’re in the basement. Cap, there’s a bomb.”

“You need to move!”

“Uh, not happening, Cap. It’s motion activated and it’s trigger point is right on Buck.”

______

The bomb itself is rudimentary and obviously self-made. Eddie spends the whole time voices crash over the radio in a cacophony of noise analysing it. Buck’s staying still as he can, breathing heavy, and it’s all Eddie can do to focus on the task at hand. 

When he spots the timer, his heart sinks. 

“Cap,” Eddie says. Then, louder, “Captain Nash!”

The voices stop. 

“There’s a timer.” Eddie meets Buck’s eyes. They’re round, scared, and it breaks Eddie’s heart.

Bobby’s voice is shaky when he comes back on the line. “How long, Eddie?”

Eddie closes his eyes. “Not long enough for the bomb squad.”

______

“You have to go.”

“Shut up, Buck,” Eddie says. The radio is next to his knee and he can hear Bobby, Hen, and Chim on the other end arguing with someone else. Eddie knows they won’t get help here in time. 

Buck makes a noise and Eddie looks up. Anger wars with terror on Buck’s face. “You have to go.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No. I’m not leaving. I can defuse this.”

Buck looks more terrified than Eddie's ever seen him. "You were a medic!"

"We were walking into IED fields all the time," Eddie explains as he bends down, studying the homemade device. "You think I didn't learn how to defuse a bomb on the off chance I might have to?"

"Eddie," Buck says, and he sounds wrecked.

"Hey," Eddie says, looking up at him. He lets his confidence shine through; he might not have faced this particular bomb before, but he needs to do this or Buck's dead, they're both dead, and they have a kid to get home to. "I'm not gonna let you die, you hear me?"

Buck doesn't say anything.

Eddie stands smoothly, hands up in front of him. Less to protect himself and more so that he shows Buck he's taking this seriously. "I'm getting you out of this, Buck. I promise.”

“It’s not that.” Buck’s eyes drop to the bomb, then back up. He swallows, shakes his head. “You can’t do that in time.”

“I can,” Eddie says. There’s no other option; Eddie isn’t leaving Buck here to die.

Buck sounds angry when he says, “You can’t stay and watch me die!”

I can, is on the tip of Eddie’s tongue, but he doesn’t say. He peels off his gloves and lets out a shaky breath. “Cap?”

“Eddie,” Bobby sounds strong but concerned. “You can’t do this.”

“I have to,” Eddie says, watching the time tick further away from them. “Buck doesn’t have that long.”

Bobby doesn’t want him to do this; the brass probably don’t want him to do this, and the bomb squad definitely won’t, but Eddie’s not about to let his best friend die because of red tape. “Eddie, if this goes wrong—”

Buck dies. 

The words ring out and Eddie refuses to acknowledge them. 

“It won’t.” Looking up at Buck, he begs him to understand. “We’re getting out of this.”

“Chris,” Buck says, a pleading note to his voice. 

Eddie nods. “You think I wanna go home, look him in the eye and tell him I left you alone?”

Buck’s eyes widen, his lips parting and he closes his eyes. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Eddie says quietly. He shifts closer to the bomb, tries to get a grip on his emotions when his hands shake. He can’t afford anything to go wrong. 

“Eddie.” Buck’s voice is quiet. “If you stay—”

Eddie shrugs, peeling back the debris from around the device. It’s not unlike some of the shoddily made IEDs when he was in Afghanistan. At least the ones he remembers taking apart and putting back together a hundred times until he understood them. Blowing out a slow breath, he ignores the timer, the red light hovering over Buck, and concentrates on the device itself. 

“Tell me about Mango,” he says, when the silence draws on too much. 

Buck huffs a sigh. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m trying to distract us both,” Eddie admits. “I need you to talk, Buck.”

Silence. Then, quietly, “You’ll watch me die.”

It’s not what Eddie wants to talk about and he feels chilled. Swallowing down the urge to snap back, he’s suddenly glad for the kit they brought with them. “Shit.”

“Eddie,” Buck says again, louder. “Please—”

“Buck,” Eddie snaps. “Neither of us is dying, but if I can’t get this bomb to stop, I’m not leaving you to die alone!”

________________

Eddie sheds his jacket. 

It’s hot; sweat running down his forehead and he can only imagine how Buck’s doing. 

The bomb is complex, but Eddie can do this. The timer won’t let him rest for a second more than he needs to. Buck’s breathing heavy. Bobby and the others have stopped talking. 

Silence descends and Eddie takes a deep breath. 

“I’m having a niece,” Buck says, breaking the silence. 

Eddie sends him a silent thanks, and exposes the wires. “Yeah?”

“Maddie told me last night,” Buck explains. His arms are straining from holding still so long and Eddie wishes he could go faster, but he can’t get this wrong. “I was gonna tell you later.”

“They have a name yet?”

Buck shakes his head carefully. “No. I keep trying to convince them Eva is a great name.”

Eddie laughs, sticks the clippers between his teeth and gets his fingers between the wires. The light is dangerously close to his left hand and he takes a few deep breaths. “Why not Edie?”

There’s a laugh there, Eddie knows, but Buck keeps still. “Fuck you. Not while I’m near death.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says. He cuts one of the wires, biting at his bottom lip. 

It takes Buck a little longer to speak; Eddie cuts another wire, thinks he’s narrowed down the one for the timer. He doesn’t wanna cut that one. “I love you.”

Eddie pauses. “Don’t.”

“Please,” Buck says quietly. “I need to—”

“You think I don’t know?” Eddie glances at the timer, then looks up at Buck. 

Buck swallows. “Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head, focuses back on the task at hand and cuts another wire. “Don’t say goodbye,” he says, through gritted teeth. “Please.”

“I love Chris,” Buck says, plowing on as if he can’t hear Eddie loud and clear. Eddie ignores him, tries to pick up a bit of speed because he can’t do this, he can’t. “He’ll be a good cousin.”

Oh.

Fuck no. “Buck.”

“You’ll be a great uncle,” Buck says, his voice wobbling. “Mango’s lucky.” Then, quietly, “I���ve been lucky.”

“Please,” Eddie whispers again, fingers trembling as he narrows down the last couple of wires. The timer’s picked up speed and he can feel worry clawing at his chest. “Buck—”

Buck sobs and Eddie’s heart shatters. “I’m lucky you came to LA. That you listened to Bobby. That you—that you were mine, even for a little—”

“No,” Eddie snaps, isolating the last wire. “You’re not dying and you don’t get to—”

0:10. 

“Eddie—”

0:07. 

“No, stop—”

0:05.

“Eddie!”

__________

“You can let go,” Bobby says. 

Eddie blinks, stares down at the device, then up at Bobby. “Bobby?”

Concerned, Bobby slides a hand down Eddie’s arm, takes the clippers from hands that won’t work. “Eddie, you with me?”

“Buck,” Eddie says, forcing himself to shaky feet. 

“Outside,” Bobby says. He meets Eddie’s gaze, holds it. “You checked out.”

Eddie collapses forward and Bobby catches him. Eddie can’t stop the trembling, from gasping out Buck’s name. 

“You did it,” Bobby says, holding him. “You did it, Eddie, you can breathe.”

_______

The water washes away almost everything. 

The heaviness remains in Eddie’s chest and he can’t stop the racing of his heart. 

When he comes out of the showers, he sits on the bench. 

Buck’s at the hospital, everyone clamouring to make sure he’s okay. Eddie feels adrift without him, like he’s gonna float away if he doesn’t find something to ground him. He’s talked to Chris; made sure Carla can drop him off when he and Buck make it back home. If Buck wants to go with him. He doesn’t know if—

“Hey.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. Buck’s crouched in front of him, hands on Eddie’s knees. 

“You keep checking out on people,” Buck says quietly. 

“You’re okay,” Eddie whispers. 

Buck nods, then breaks, surging forward and dragging Eddie into a hug. Eddie holds on, buries his face in Buck’s neck. “Eddie, fuck, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. He holds on, revels in the feel of Buck beneath his hands. 

When Buck pulls back, he presses a hand to Eddie’s face. He’s shaking, Eddie realises. That, or Eddie is and they’re just a mess of shaking and heavy breathing. It should be gross, but it just means they’re both alive. “If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Do you,” Eddie starts, cuts himself off. “You can’t ask me to leave. Ever. You can’t ask me to leave you alone.”

Buck stares, then nods quickly. “Okay. But you, you think I wanted you there? Chris needs us both, okay?”

Eddie nods. “I couldn’t leave you,” he says again. “I can’t do this if you’re not right next to me.”

The kiss is expected. The hand to the back of his head is soft. 

The ground beneath his feet is solid.         

[curekibouka-writing]

Thread and Thunder (chapter 1/3) (Twst fanfic)

Summary: (Spoilers for Silver’s birthday personal story) Lost your ways in horrid weather, but follow the thread, you’ll find each other.

Genre(s): Family, mild angst

Word count of chapter 1: 1020

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: A 3-chapter fic revolving around young Silver finding out he is a human, unlike Lilia. Chapter 1 focuses on Silver, chapter 2 on Lilia, and chapter 3 is a resolution for them both. Will probably update weekly. Enjoy! ^^

Also posted on ff.net, quotev and ao3

Chapter 2 here Chapter 3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Unhear

That all too familiar baritone voice bursted out in a booming fit of laughter, “Ahahaha Silver, my boy, don’t tell me you never noticed?! Well, I suppose it is beyond a wee thing such as yourself. Hmm, perhaps I should’ve made it clear...”

The child gawked blankly at the man whom he had called father for the entirety of his young life, his fingers still hanging on the round edges of his ears. His eyes asking the further question that his lips had forgone.

“You’re a child of man, a human!”

“A ‘human’?” he repeated the alien word.

“Yes, and I’m a fae. You are not of my kin, dear, I took you in when you were a tiny newborn.”

The continuous laughter blended with the thunderclaps outside, sending a tingle through the poor child’s already jumbled mind. Without taking a moment to think, he sprinted out into the raging storm as fast as he could.

The thunder muffled what came after the laughing, though Silver didn’t know if he had the capacity to hear anything more.

He ran without stopping, exposing himself to the weather. As if expecting the gales to sweep away this knowledge he didn’t want, as if hoping the rain would wash away the question he regretted asking.

Yet the adrenaline only took away the strength in his legs, not the storm in his mind. He plonked himself down next to a sizeable tree trunk, now deep in the vast woods after dark, panting, lip quivering in the cold.

The truth still echoed in the thunder. It clamoured everywhere, so very deafening, striking into him a cacophony he barely understood. He creased his brows, huddling up tight.

Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human—

His eyes shot open to a tickly sensation on his ankle. A rabbit, braving the downpour, nuzzled against him. He gingerly picked it up in his hands, now noticing a sprig of berries between its teeth.

“.....for me?” Silver inquired. The rabbit uttered an affirmative squeak.

“Thank you...” he couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Soon, more critters gathered at his feet, piling up acorns, twigs, and even a rare Luminous Flower so that he could see in the dark, all in the hopes that dismay would cloud their friend’s iridescent eyes no longer.

“Thank you everyone. But you should return to where you belong. Look, you’re all drenched now because of me.” Silver petted them one by one, grateful to their kind gestures and sending them away.

His right hand paused on a fawn’s head, his fleeting smile now gone as he felt around the its ears, pointy ears.

The animal stared back at him, anxious. Was the gift it offered unsatisfactory?

Silver ran his hand down its neck tenderly, putting it at ease, reassuring the young deer that it was nothing of the sort.

It poked at his cheek with its snout, seeking a reason for his distress.

“Well… if you all belong in this forest,” he mumbled, “I wonder where I belong.”

The fawn’s countenance lit up, biting on his sleeve and yanking him to the direction from which he came. But its eagerly swishing tail soon drooped when it realised he wouldn’t budge.

Silver shook his head laggardly, his eyes glancing down to avoid the fawn’s expectant gaze.

It backed off from Silver’s sleeve, about to bleat its query, instead came the bleat of a doe demanding her young to return to their thicket.

He can see his reflection in the little deer’s eyes, but he chose not to look as he petted it once more, gently stroking its pointy ears, “Run along. Back to your family.”

It trotted to its mother, a spring in its steps, reminding Silver of how he had tackled his father in a hungry embrace after returning from picking berries just yesterday.

The doe nudged her fawn beneath her, sheltering it from rainwater. Now flashing before Silver’s eyes were the countless times in which his father made sure his sparring wounds were tended to, his shimmery hair was clean from dirt, and his growling tummy was fed generously.

In the shades of the thicket, the young deer slumbered snugly against its parent’s torso, no doubt conjuring up lovely fantasies in its dreams. And how would Silver’s borderless dream world be whole without father’s vibrant and curious tales?

Nothing but happy memories flooded his mind — but how much of them were lies?

‘Father and son’ was a lie. What else?

He didn’t want to find out. No matter how pleasant a dream is, it will fall apart the moment you realise you’ve been dreaming, cracking like glass to reveal reality little by little. The more your sight lingers, the more fabrications you begin to discern.

Then run.

And ran he did. Once again, the wind in his hair and rain in his face, plus a Luminous Flower in hand.

If he had never looked, he would’ve never doubted it. Happy memories can remain happy memories. Lies can remain as truths that were just never exposed, never questioned.

Clawing at his ears, his breathing grew more erratic as he sped up.

Then look no more. Linger no more. So that nothing more would fall apart.

The thunder rumbled, yet it sounded somewhat distant now, and so did the laughter that echoed with it. He could’ve sworn that voice was blaring and daunting not too long ago, yet it seemed like little more than a thread slipping through his fingers now.

He tried to hold onto it, then it was as if the fawn yanked on his sleeve again, jolting his feet to a halt.

It bleated, then came his own voice, interrogating, “Why aren’t you going home?”

“Because…” he choked on his breath, perhaps he was exhausted from running.

Because that was not home?

Because he was not family?

Because a fawn belongs with a doe, and a human does not belong with a fae?

The droplets that rolled down his cheeks were warm. “I… don’t know…”

The flower’s light faded. Now he had lost his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of Chapter 1

[cardinalnuggets]

Not Letting Go

Pairing: Ayna x f!mc Word Count: 1951 Rating: T Summary: Adrenaline is really great at numbing the pain. Set just after the end of FA. Prompts: "bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go" Tagging: @robintora @brycesgirl @heygmicheelle @saratustra4 (if anyone else wants to be added let me know!)

Of all the kisses they had shared, Kennedy was sure this one was the best. It was far more chaste than those they had shared earlier in the night, but the meaning behind this one was everything. This kiss was freedom from secrets, and from hiding. This was them being open and basking in the truth of how they felt for one another. They no longer cared what anyone else thought; only each other.

A giant weight was lifting from Kennedy’s mind with each brush of Ayna’s lips against hers, but there was an anxiety in the pit of her stomach growing and growing. There was no doubt in her mind that this was the right decision for them, but the level of scrutiny they would now face would be staggering. The invasion of her privacy since the “scandal” was bad enough, but now that they had a face and a name, Kennedy doubted they would know peace for quite a long time.

And of course, the second their lips parted, there was an explosion of noise from the press before them.

“Kennedy! Who’re you kissing?”

“Is this the woman from the scandal? It wasn’t Evelyn was it?”

“Are you two together?”

The noise was overwhelming, most of the questions nearly indecipherable. Ayna’s hand clasped tightly in hers was the only thing grounding her, the only thing stopping her from running.

“You can do this,” Ayna mouthed to her, squeezing her hand quickly in hers.

With a deep breath, Kennedy nodded and turned to the press. She raised her free hand in the air, asking for quiet. Several long moments passed before the uproar faded into background noise, each and every reporter champing at the bit to hear what ever scraps she was going to give them.

“I have a short statement to make,” Kennedy began, in a voice more confident than she felt, but she was used to running on adrenaline and faking until she made it at this point, “and time for a couple of questions.”

Every single reporter leant forward, eager to not miss a single word. It would have been an amusing sight if they weren’t all waiting to splash her private life all over their newspapers. The silence now was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of a camera shutter.

“This is Ayna,” Kennedy gestured towards her with the hand not wrapped around hers and watched as Ayna gave a cautious wave, “she’s my girlfriend.” God, Kennedy thought, that feels so good to say out loud.

Momentarily, they were blinded by the flashes of cameras as each paparazzo clamoured to get the perfect shot of this “historic” moment.

“We’ve been seeing each other for some time and have decided it’s now time to let the people of Rutherland know. Although we are excited to share this happy news with you all, we would ask for privacy and understanding. We are, after all, only human. Thank you.”

The silence broke then, replaced with chaos and uproar as everyone screamed their questions at the couple standing before them. Kennedy tugged Ayna closer so they could each draw strength from the other.

Raising her hand again for silence had little effect, so instead Kennedy shouted, “If I can’t hear the questions, I can’t answer them.” That soon calmed them, and she couldn’t help the little grin of triumph that slid onto her face in place of her usual polite mask.

“You in the red skirt, you may ask your question.”

“Is she the same woman you were photographed with in the lake a few weeks ago?” She didn’t miss a beat.

“Yes.” It was Ayna that answered, in a voice so calm that Kennedy would have thought she’d done this a hundred times before.

Shooting her a soft smile, Kennedy raised her arm again before the pandemonium could restart.

“And you with the blue suit, you can have the final question.”

“Thank you. Can I just start by saying congratulations?” His voice was smarmy and Kennedy instantly regretted letting him speak. Not wanting to seem impolite, though, she threw him her signature fake-grateful smile. “Why now?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why wait until now to go public? Why not when the scandal hit? Or when it was clear that it couldn’t be easily brushed under the carpet?”

There were a hundred answers to this question, all starting and ending with Kennedy not wanting Ayna’s name to be dragged through the mud. She knew that as soon as the press figured out that Ayna was her TA, she could kiss her career goodbye. Nobody deserved that, especially not someone as kind and caring as her girlfriend.

“That was down to me, I’m afraid.” Once again Ayna spoke up before Kennedy had the chance. She turned to Ayna with wide eyes, questioning with her gaze if she was sure about this. She nodded subtly, squeezing Kennedy’s hand gently. “I wasn’t prepared for a life in the public eye yet. I asked Kennedy to give me time to adjust, which she has done. I’m in awe of her for the way she has handled this alone and respect her so much for all she has done to keep me sheltered.”

Kennedy melted hearing Ayna talk about her with such tenderness. Wrapping an arm around her waist, she couldn’t help but stare at her in wonder. As much as she was glad to be out in the open now, she was done sharing Ayna with the world for tonight.

“That’s all we have time for I’m afraid,” she announced, barely sparing them a glance as she led her girlfriend towards the embassy. The chaos as they turned their backs was unparalleled, but neither of them seemed to notice, focussed as they were on getting back inside.

“You were amazing out there,” Kennedy whispered, grinning stupidly at Ayna.

Letting out a long breath, she turned to Kennedy with a strained smile. “I think that was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No. Absolutely not.” As if to reinforce her claim, she reached behind her back to squeeze the hand resting on her back. A wince scrunched her face up as she did so and she immediately pulled back, holding her hand in front of her face. “Whoops,” was all she murmured, wincing again.

“What?” Kennedy asked, gently taking her hand between her own. She didn’t even need to bring it any closer to see how raised and raw Ayna’s knuckles looked. How had she not noticed this before? It looked so painful.

“I must have hurt it fighting Winston off you. The adrenaline must have numbed the pain.”

“Ayna!” Kennedy all but scolded. She stared at her girlfriend wide-eyed before letting go of her hand. “Go and wait in the room we were in earlier and I’ll go and find some ice or something. The swelling is only gonna get worse the longer you leave it.”

Ten minutes later Kennedy pushed her way into the room, her arms laden with an ice bucket, cloth napkins and a first aid kit. Ayna was sitting on the ottoman in front of the bed, her expression a mixture between pain and sheepishness. Kennedy hated seeing it, hated knowing that it was because of her that she was in pain. If she’d just learned self-defence from Tatum or been smart enough to see Winston for what he truly was before he could best her, then Ayna would be fine.

Shaking it off because she needed to focus on helping Ayna get better, she sank to the floor by her girlfriend’s feet, depositing her things next to her.

“Hey,” she said softly, “how’s the hand?”

“Sore,” she replied with a rueful smile, “I’m sorry.”

Kennedy looked up at her in alarm, her hands absently stuffing ice into a napkin. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

Ayna shrugged, then lifted her injured hand a little. “This.”

“You got injured protecting me. You don’t have to be sorry. You probably saved my life tonight!”

The soft smile on Ayna’s face only faltered as Kennedy gently cradled her hurt hand with one of hers and pressed the ice to the raw flesh. She hissed, gritting her teeth through the sting.

“Sorry.” It was Kennedy’s turn to apologise this time. She hatedseeing her in pain. “It’ll get better I promise.”

“I’d do it again, you know.”

“Do what again?”

“Fight someone to save your life.” Her voice was serious, and Kennedy knew she was being serious, but still there was mischief dancing in those dark eyes. Kennedy revelled in both. It was thrilling knowing that someone cared about her so much that they wouldn’t even think twice about getting hurt so she wouldn’t. But she also loved that Ayna would turn it into a joke to clear the tension from the air. She truly was spectacular.

Leaning up, Kennedy met Ayna’s lips in a lingering kiss, feeling the strain dissipate from them both. “As long as you know I’d do the same for you,” Kennedy murmured as she leant her forehead against Ayna’s

“Deal.” She smiled warmly as Kennedy readjusted herself to check on the swelling under the ice. “It might be better to make sure your bodyguard is always with you, though.”

Kennedy laughed as she reached for the bandages and began wrapping them tightly around Ayna’s knuckles. “I think you’re just as capable as Tatum is when it comes down to it,” she joked, sending her a cheeky grin, “but you’re right, I just didn’t think I would need protection around Winston. He pulled me so far away from everyone before I’d even realised he’d done it.”

“Why would you think you needed protection? You’ve known him your whole life.” Ayna’s free hand raised to cup her cheek, thumb stroking against the skin. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kennedy. He was the only one in the wrong.”

Kennedy nodded slowly as she finished wrapping Ayna’s bandage and tied the ends together to stop it unravelling. She knew Ayna was right, really she did, but she couldn’t help but feel stupid that she’d let someone get the best of her like that. In hindsight, she could see all the signs pointing to Winston’s odd behaviour which she hadn’t thought twice about at the time. She really should have known.

“Thank you,” Ayna whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Kennedy’s hair.

“It was the least I could do,” Kennedy murmured back, cradling the newly wrapped hand in between both of hers.

She lost herself in thought then, of everything that had happened tonight, of everything that had happened since she had arrived at Vancross. So much had happened – lots good, and more bad. But sitting here quietly with her girlfriend, she knew she would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant she could feel the hope and the happiness she felt while in Ayna’s presence. That was worth everything.

“Shall we?” Ayna asked after they’d sat in silence for several minutes, Kennedy steadfastly refusing to let go of her injured hand.

“It’s been an emotional night, I wish I could just stay up here with you. Alone.” She let out a deep sigh before heaving herself to her feet. “But we should go back. People will notice if we don’t come back.”

“At least we don’t have to be apart even once now that everyone knows,” Ayna reminded her with a smile, offering her good hand.

“Hmm that’s definitely the highlight of the night.”

Hand in hand, they walked back down to the ballroom to re-join the party, not once straying from the other the whole night.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 4

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Sexual abuse (skip to the solo ". . ." to skip that part)

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - Breaking Out of Hell

Song Qingshi finally connected the child with the red tear mole in his memories and the peerless beauty on the golden bird frame.

Someone eavesdropping on their conversation clapped his hands and laughed: "Xie Que is really wicked. It must have been so amusing to see when the little apprentice discovered the truth."

Since Jin FeiRen had cultivated immortality, he had received countless beauties, but he was still excited about the moment that Yue Wuhuan entering the door: "That year, when I was eight hundred years old, I received countless congratulations, so I held a feast on this Langgan stage and invited all my friends to celebrate together. Xie Que also came with Wuhuan. He seemed to tell Wuhuan that he was going to send him to Golden Phoenix Manor to learn sword fighting. Wuhuan was overjoyed. When Xie was absent, he took out the spirit bead and asked me to inspect the slave. His incredulous expression was really cute. . ."

Jin FeiRen casually played with the long hair of the boy in white, forcing him to look at the beauty on the golden bird stand, and then told everyone about the past events:

At that time, Yue Wuhuan had just grown up, wearing the Yuelan clothes that all immortal disciples liked, with a sword on his waist, his hair tied with a simple white jade crown. His body had a clean smell, his facial features were exquisite, and his phoenix eyes were clear and innocent. He had dignified manners, unlike someone with a mortal origin, but like the young son of the immortal family.

He earnestly bowed to the immortals at the banquet and then told Jin FeiRen that he was already in the middle stage of foundation building and that he would work hard to master his sword at Golden Phoenix Manor in the future, and live up to Master's expectations and become like Mo Yuan. The powerful sword repair. At that time, everyone laughed, and there was an ambiguous atmosphere that was built from the laughter. Yue Wuhuan realized that there was something wrong with their laughter and wanted to retreat. Jin FeiRen had already walked down, lifted his hand, studied it carefully, and laughed: "Such a beautiful hand is not suitable for swordsmanship. It's more suitable for serving people."

Yue Wuhuan's face turned pale and he desperately retracted his hands.

Jin FeiRen let go and smiled: "Immortal Xie, since you have brought some excellent goods, you must let me inspect the goods."

The people in the room also clamoured and demanded to inspect the goods on the spot.

Yue Wuhuan watched as his master took out a red bead. He turned his mind, and lost control of his body. He desperately tried to prevent his trembling hands from reaching his waist and threw his most treasured sword away like trash. Long sword. Then, his belt fell, and the layers of Yuelan's clothes faded away. His self-esteem was destroyed in front of everyone, and his dream of cultivation was crushed to pieces.

All sounds of the dinner stopped, and all eyes were staring at the beautiful scenery.

Jin FeiRen couldn't help but straighten up.

Yue Wuhuan was struggling in this controlled state, wishing to die on the spot. He looked at his master in pain, his beautiful lips squirming, and begged silently. Xie Que finally walked towards him and gently stretched out his hand, just like when he touched his head every day to praise him.

Xie Que gently pulled off his white jade crown.

The white jade crown fell to the floor and smashed into pieces. The long, slightly curled hair dropped down to his waist like a waterfall, covering the enchanting Acacia Seal on his pale back. The despair and helplessness in the dark golden phoenix eyes were enough to arouse any raging thoughts. The red tear-shaped mole made people feel allured, and the originally beautiful boy was turned into a seductive collectable.

The more Wuhuan struggled, the more his head lowered to hide himself away in embarrassment.

Xie Que grabbed Yue Wuhuan's long hair and pulled it back fiercely, forcing the ashamed young man to raise his head so that everyone could see one of the best beauties of the country.

He smiled and said: "My vision is never wrong."

. . .

The sound of the flute resonated further, and the depth of the sadness in that lingering sound became more devastating.

Song Qingshi's throat stiffened from sadness, and he was left a little breathless. He gradually understood the meaning of the words Yue Wuhuan said by the river bank. He seemed to see himself locked in a physical prison from his past. He shouted every day, but no one could hear his cry for help.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. He already knew the answer.

He wanted to save was this bruised beautiful bird with his strings of scars.

Song Qingshi began to think wildly about how to naturally whisk this boy away.

The song ended, the flute stopped, and the remaining notes curled away into the wind.

The guests had already been enthusiastic from the song, and now some were even making fools of themselves.

Jin FeiRen got up and announced boldly: "This is the toy that Golden Phoenix Manor will give to you all immortal friends tonight. Please enjoy!."

Song Qingshi was startled and looked back worriedly. Yue Wuhuan only raised his eyebrows. It seemed that he was used to such a scene. He indifferently cast a wink at the immortal beside him, his beautiful calves stretched out under the feather skirt, shaking the bells on the golden shackles on his feet. He swayed them towards everyone as if inviting them to taste.

The Hidden Moon Sect's Young Master looked at him with desire. He raised his hand to grab his foot and wanted to tear off the feather skirt and drag him off to the side to play around with.

Suddenly, there was an exclamation from outside the hall, and the maids and servants fled one after another. A demon tiger rushed into the hall. Its eyes were red, staring at Yue Wuhuan, roaring in a low voice, as if it saw some delicious prey. Yue Wuhuan’s eyes began to glaze over as if he had been drugged. It was like he didn't know what fear was. He actually walked towards the demon tiger, closer and closer, seeming not to know what it was. . .

LingBao Xianzun said in surprise: "This is the show my friend arranged tonight? Such flair!"

The guests were full of drunken spirit. They were getting extremely exciting and started cheering.

The white-clothed boy finally couldn't help standing up. He pushed Jin FeiRen away, and shouted: "Stop! Don't do this! This sort of show. . . is too much!"

Jin FeiRen was a little puzzled. He had arranged a demon tiger hunting slave game tonight, but he was only going to use ordinary slaves. Why would he ever be willing to use such a stunning beauty as Yue Wuhuan? But now the atmosphere of the guests was too energetic. Yue Wuhuan knew how to ensure the guests would not be disappointed and keep the energy. The accusation of the youth beside him also made him feel like he lost face, so he sneered: "Why not? You just have to open your eyes and take a good look. If you dare to disobey me, I'll let you have a go against the beast."

The white-clothed boy's face turned pale. He opened his mouth, but he dared not make any more noises.

Seeing him approaching, the demon tiger became even more frantic and lost its wit. He grabbed Yue Wuhuan's shoulder and bit down. Yue Wuhuan’s shoulder was torn open with a big, bloody mouth. He finally woke up from his dazed state and drew back. The demon tiger still continued to grab and bite at him, trying to tear up what was trying to escape in front of him.

Song Qingshi racked the original body's memories until he found a suitable attack spell he could use. He turned the Underworld Ghost Fire into a needle as thin as cattle hair and shot it at the demon tiger's body. The demon tiger raised his head and roared, and the thin needle that should have been hit its neck hit its leg insted.

Fortunately, the poison of the Underworld Ghost Fire spread quickly in the demon tiger. The demon tiger instantly grew stiff and fell on its side After a while, it turned into a boiling corpse and evaporated.

Song Qingshi got up and walked towards Yue Wuhuan who was lying in a pool of blood. He quickly sealed the wound and pressed a few acupuncture points to stop the bleeding.

Yue Wuhuan was trembling in pain. He kept panting, his beautiful face was covered with blood, and he looked like a ghost. Looking at Song Qingshi, there was no joy of being rescued, only deep resentment and despair. Finally, before he passed out, he said in a soft voice that was almost inaudible: "I was so blind. . ."

Song Qingshi put a spirit pill in his mouth to keep his heart working.

Jin FeiRen came over and was very displeased: "Song Xianzun, why did you kill my demon tiger?"

This demon tiger was his most valuable treasure, capable of human intelligence, and able to protect his master. Much more valuable than a tired slave.

Song Qingshi put himself back into the character of the original body, and said coldly: "I want him."

Jin FeiRen smiled and said, "Was Xianxun actually moved by this display?"

Song Qingshi replied: "I will use him to test my medicine."

He wanted to use Yue Wuhuan to try various miraculous medicines to restore his body to what it used to be!

Under Song Qingshi’s deliberate misguidance, Jin FeiRen was completely fooled. The advantage of the wood spirit root system was that the natural body had a strong resilience and was a good choice for medicine refiners. Medicine Master Xianzun’s behaviour was like immortals that flew through the sky. It was hard to guess what he was thinking. Since the demon tiger was dead, there was no point in investigating it, so it's better to take this opportunity to have Song Qingshi owe him a favour.

Song Qingshi took out a bottle of his immortal pills from his mustard bag, and didn't really count out how much he took out. Instead, he directly handed them to Jin FeiRen as compensation. Refining pills were extremely beneficial to practicing cultivation. It’s just that the materials were extremely precious, and they were very hard to come by. Pills refined by the Medicine Master Xianxun himself were even more of a rarirty. Considering this was compensation for the demon tiger and a slave he was tired of playing with and might now even make it. . . this was a very sincere offer. . .

Song Qingshi was afraid that he would reject the offer, so he thought about it and then said: "This tiger has been drugged. He was overly vicious and had become deranged, so it couldn't be left as was."

Jin FeiRen hurried down the steps, erased his spiritual thoughts from Yue Wuhuan's bead and transferred them to Song Qingshi. He thanked him for discovering the tiger's madness and killing it without injuring the guests on the court and ordered someone to investigate the demon tiger being drugged.

Song Qingshi courteously paid his farewells to Manor Lord Jin and rejected his enthusiasm for sending him home with some beauties.

He picked up Yue Wuhuan, who was seriously injured and still unconscious and stepped out of this hell of jade carvings.

In hell, there were still many souls that still couldn't escape. . .

Behind him, the carefree laughter grew farther and farther away.

The blood on Yue Wuhuan's face has been wiped away, and the crow feather-like eyelashes are tightly closed, trembling slightly, fragile and beautiful.

When Song Qingshi looked at him, his heart gradually became firmer.

He suddenly remembered the story his mother told when he was a child:

There are thousands of fish from the tide pushing them into the shallow puddles on the beach.

He has no way of saving all the fish. He can only release the dying fish in his hand to the freedom of the sea.

"Because this fish cares."

[cottonwoolsocks]

Roman’s Berry Jam

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: It was only a matter of time before the next Side was given their own Crofter’s Brand jam, and there was little surprise when it was awarded to Janus. Janus deserved it. No Side was more fitting. At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

Or; Remus makes his brother a present to try and cheer him up.

Word Count: 2969 Genre: hurt/comfort, canonverse Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus, others mentioned Relationships: Creativitwins, platonic Janus & Roman & Remus

Warnings: food theme, slight gory imagery mention

If I need to tag anything else, let me know!

inspired by this post by @julia-loves-cupcakes because there was no way i could just leave roman like that :(

disclaimer i am thoroughly confused by the correct terminology for this wonderful fruit spread (jam? jelly?? confiture????)(/j), so i shall be referring to it as ‘jam’. hopefully that clears up any related confusions!

———

It came as a surprise to no one when it was announced that Janus would be getting the next Crofter’s flavour. He was well liked, and quick-witted, and a Dark Side, which made for a diverse branding appeal following Logan, the stoic and straightforward Light Side.

When Thomas told Janus the news, Janus had shocked everyone by practically bursting into tears as he clasped the jar, eyeing it as if it may break and scanning the room for any signs of a set-up, a prank, a cruel fabrication. But Logan and Patton, the only other Sides present, had simply smiled, and congratulated him, and voiced their approval. The simple glass jar became almost symbolic of Janus’s acceptance and place in the group.

Janus deserved the achievement.

No Side was more fitting.

At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

It would have been ludicrous for Roman to assume he would be next. After all, Roman? He was just another Light Side like Logan—just another character who had been there from the start: who was the same, really, in the eyes of business and branding.

And besides—Roman berries just didn’t exist.

Loganberries were the ideal signature, and snake berries the perfect next equivalent—neither recipe contained either of the named fruits, but that was insignificant to the wider appeal; it was sufficient for display, and advertising, and portraying a certain image, which at the end of the day was what was important.

Roman understood the importance of appearances. He understood why Janus was the ideal next choice.

Janus was suave, had an eye-catching colour scheme, already had well-established snake symbolism in his character. Snake berries were the serendipitous berry on the cake: the apposite mark of his acceptance into the group, the fitting next step in their story as Janus became more popular, as his character gained traction amongst fans.

Roman knew it made sense. He knew it was the rational next step, and that no Side was better suited, and that it was only practical that it was Janus who was to bear this particular crown.

So why, pray tell, was he so disappointed?

He had just assumed, he supposed, that he was more important. More popular. That the loyal prince who had been present from the beginning, who had been star of the show, loved and adored from the get-go, may hold even the smallest of loyalty cards over any who came after.

He had reasoned—foolishly, it seemed now—that his red, white, and gold design, the one he had designed so carefully to raise to perfection, would be ideal for any future product or design or endeavour that could come about—that it balanced the perfectitude of his character, of his design, yet was still bold and eye-catching enough to have an aesthetic impact. 

He was a prince. And princes were popular, and celebrated, and loved. 

...Weren’t they?

Roman’s hand slips away from the banister at the top of the stairwell as the light catches the label of the jar clutched in Janus’s fingers. He sees how happy, how thankful Janus is, and remembers how Janus is nice to him, Janus is his friend, and he would never wish ill upon his friends.

But as his eyes linger on Thomas’s proud face, Logan’s expression of approval, Patton’s excitement, the way Janus’s gloved hands cradle the jar—he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. 

Of spite.

His hand slips away from the banister, and he turns and walks back along the corridor, back to his room, suggestions of a night of Disney movies dead on his lips and a request for Patton’s baked cookies forgotten, despite how long he had puzzled the previous evening to make sure everything was organised just right, that nobody would be busy, that he had no projects due so he could spend as long as possible with his family.

They know tonight is movie night.

But they have other things to think about now. Other achievements to celebrate. Such opportunities did not come by frequently, and often swept past in but the most fleeting of chances. 

He understands. He does.

The door clicks as Roman pulls it shut, collapsing onto his bed and not even flinching as his ankle clips painfully against the bedpost. He breathes in the scent of his duvet, familiarity easing the tension in his shoulders just a fraction as he screws up his fists and eyes.

Princes just aren’t as popular anymore.

It is almost an hour later when there are a flurry of knocks on his door.

He has been listening to the clamour downstairs for some time now, to the celebrations, the cheesy pop music Patton has no doubt judged befitting of the occasion. Roman assumes they don’t want him there, and to be quite honest isn’t sure he wants to go and find out if there is truth in such an assumption, isn’t sure if the celebrations and Janus’s smiling face will simply be too much too soon. He knows he is being selfish—that Janus deserves this, at least—but it’s hard to feel truly happy for someone's achievements when they stand as one of the few things you thought you maybe, just maybe, had a shot at.

There is a rush of air as the door swings open and someone takes a few steps inside, trips, and stumbles inelegantly forward with a barrage of emphatically placed swear words. Roman’s head snaps up, trying subtly to dry his eyes with his uniform sleeve and hoping the redness from the tears that definitely hadn’t been running down his face until only ten minutes prior could by now be passed as exhaustion.

“What do you want?” he snaps, because when does Remus visit him other than to pull a prank, or tease him? Roman is not in the mood—that much he hopes is clear to his brother from his tone and impassive expression. Since Janus’s acceptance into the Light Sides, Remus had largely been keeping himself to himself, popping up to share his usual quips and comments but never lingering longer than necessary, making it even more abnormal for the Dark Side to be making one such entrance now.

Remus looks up, grinning and oblivious to Roman’s disapproval as he straightens his jacket to its usual devoted dysregulation and clips the eyeball decor on his shoulder back into its rightful place.

“Made you a gift!”

Something small and hard and exceptionally pointed makes a target of Roman’s eye and he cries out, batting it away and shielding his face as antagonised tears threaten to escape. He curses, scrambling upright and muttering obscenities under his breath as he glares at his brother.

Remus offers him a grin and a thumbs up as he tries and fails to surreptitiously rectify the rumpled carpet. “No worries, Ro!”

As the pain in his eye begins to subside Roman gingerly pulls his hand away, blinking through the protective tears at the still-vaguely-fuzzy outline of the offending object.

The jar, he finds, fits snugly in his palm, and through the angled glass Roman can see a red, gelatinous substance which on a good day may vaguely resemble jam, if he didn’t know Remus better than that. Scrawled words adorn a label smeared across the front, and although the letters are barely legible, years’ practice decoding his brother’s handwriting on strategically placed, lewd sticky notes and witty comments on the corners of old magazines allows him to more or less determine the phrase:

Roman’s Berry Jam.

Alongside the words is a large heart which looks to have been traced upwards of fifteen times in colours Roman wasn’t even aware could clash quite so horrifically, and a small, golden crown adorns the ‘R’ with a ruby gemstone fixed centre of the tallest spike. The red substance is smeared over most available surfaces and when Roman glances down, he sees it has, naturally, also found its way onto his previously pristine bedsheets—but he can’t find it within himself to mind.

“Is this…?”

“Roman’s Berry Jam! I thought you deserved some, since you are the brave and daring Prince Roman!” And then, more quietly, “You looked disappointed when you saw J get his jar.” He shifts from foot to foot, energetic demeanour fading slightly to something more sombre. “Is it… Did I do good?”

The lid comes off with a satisfying pop as Roman twists it, and the smell of something indistinguishably fruity fills the room. 

He almost smiles but forces his face to stay neutral, afraid his delicately arranged mask of indifference will shatter the moment he shows even a sliver more emotion. Remus moves to perch on the edge of Roman’s duvet, kicking his feet back and forward off the edge of the bed. They hit the floor with each backward swing, creating a rhythmical, thunk, thunk, thunk against the carpet as Roman tentatively dips his finger into the substance.

“What’s in this, then?” Roman offers, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a more eloquent sentence. He is appreciative, truly, but whenever a situation such as this presents itself he always seems to find himself deflecting with a joke or a well-placed distraction, no matter how much this frustrates him. “Blood? Brain juice? Cat guts?”

“All things I did consider,” Remus replies, holding up a finger, “but no. Real berries, real jam! Of some sort. Not sure what sort. There are looooads of berries in the mindscape, you see, so it probably tastes like butts, but I was rather hoping it would be pleasurable—” 

“Remus.”

Roman turns to face his brother, offering a watery smile as he clutches the randomised berry mix to his chest. The red is smeared all over his hands and his duvet and his white uniform, and somewhere in the back of Roman’s mind a voice is telling him it will stain, but he simply thanks the voice and pushes it aside in favour of holding the jar even closer.

“I love it.”

Remus’s face visibly eases, a smile swelling as his shoulders relax. “Wonderful; I was sure you were going to say you hated it.”

Roman’s face morphs to one of confusion. “Whyever would I say such a thing?”

Remus’s foot rubs restlessly against his leg as he taps each of his fingers against one another, and examines the ceiling.

“People usually hate the stuff I make.” 

In spite of the weight of his words, Remus’s face gives nothing away, as carefree and animated as always as his fingers dance and his feet drum steadily against the carpeted floor. A pang of regret pierces Roman’s chest, because he knows it is true. Has always known it's true, has even taken part, takes part in pushing his brother’s creations down—he practically leads the parade.

But now Roman is thinking about it, Remus portraying a face of constant playfulness inaccurate to his true emotions is no different to what Roman does constantly, is it? Putting on his brave and courageous face to disguise his insecurity?

Roman somewhat reluctantly tastes the jam.

“Sweet bear of Crofter’s,” he mouths around it. “This is outstanding!”

“Of course it is!” Remus fires back, but the anxious way he surveys Roman’s expression says otherwise as he scours for distaste or disgust or tomfoolery. “It is Roman’s Berry Jam, after all! And nothing subpar of perfection could be named after our dearest Prince!”

Roman isn’t so sure about that, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Truth be told, he has missed his brother—little as he may rise to admit it. The tears of frustration have receded, leaving in their place a wateriness that he hasn’t felt in all too long, come from happiness, and thanks, and appreciation for those whom he loves.

“Say, would you be interested in a Disney night? Perhaps I’ll even allow you to share my jam.”

Remus grins. “I had disembowelment plans, but I think I can postpone them, for you.”

***

They are halfway through The Little Mermaid, a mixing bowl of Roman’s Berry Jam snug between them, when three sharp knocks echo against the wood of the door. Sharing a glance with Remus, Roman takes a generous scoop of jam and shovels it into his mouth before lodging the spoon upright in the bowl and motioning for Remus to pause the movie as he approaches the door.

Perhaps it was Patton, finally wondering where Roman has been for the whole evening, or Logan to come and share the recent good news he doesn’t know Roman is already painfully aware of. Roman even wonders if it could be Virgil, come to escape from the loud pop music still blaring from the living room downstairs to request a quiet Disney movie or for he and Roman to spend another evening painting each other’s nails, and a myriad of excuses were already running through his brain for how he might decline.

The very last person he expects to see standing uncharacteristically apologetically in the doorway is Janus.

“Buzz off! We’re vibing!” Remus calls from Roman’s bed, catapulting a spoonful of jam for good measure which drastically misses either possible target and instead splats sadly against the doorframe.

A smile tugs Roman’s lips, deciding Remus’s comment speaks enough for the both of them and turning to see what exactly Janus wants from him now.

He’s your friend, the little voice in the back of Roman’s head reminds him, which he is beginning to realise sounds awfully like Patton. His achievements are not an excuse for you to be unkind.

“Good evening, Roman,” Janus says, expression giving little away as he regards him evenly. “I would like to…apologise.”

Roman’s hand slips from its perch on the door handle, brow creasing in confusion and a healthy serving of distrust.

Janus releases a measured exhale, and continues, “I didn’t see you at the top of the stairwell earlier this evening, when Thomas presented the Crofter’s. I’ve been trying to get away all evening since then, but”—he sighs frustratedly, and his eyelids momentarily flutter in distaste—“the others were...adamant that I remain downstairs to celebrate. I was not only just able to slip away as I convinced Patton to change the music to something less repugnant.”

As if on cue, the bubbly pop music echoing from the living room switches to a more sombre jazz number, and Janus’s eyes flick towards the stairwell.

“I find it important that I inform you I did not orchestrate tonight’s turn of events, and quite frankly I believe it unjust that you were not, at the very least, consulted on such a decision, especially given your earlier enthusiasm.”

Remus tosses another spoon of jam, this one smacking directly into the centre of Janus’s bowler hat.

His eyes flutter closed as he visibly bites back a retort. 

“Remus, kindly desist.”

Remus cackles and begins to load another spoon, but a subtle shake of the head from Roman has him sighing dramatically, choosing instead to sulk as he plops the spoon into his mouth. “Jam war,” he mumbles disappointedly.

Janus gives Roman a curt nod of thanks, adjusting his gloves and turning to leave, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Well, that’s all I came to say, so I shall be on my way.”

“Janus, I—”

Janus turns, looking puzzled and a little perturbed as his nose crinkles slightly. Roman rocks back on the balls of his feet, and comes to a decision, avoiding Janus’s gaze as he offers his next words.

“Would you care to join Remus and I in our Disney marathon?”

Janus’s eyes flick to one side and he waits for a moment, as if expecting for Roman to change his mind or for Remus to come charging out with another spoonful of jam aimed at his head. 

When nothing of the sort occurs, his expression softens. Just a little.

“Yes. I would like that.”

Roman steps back to allow Janus through the doorway, and swings the door closed behind him with a click.

***

Remus stretches his leg out further, sprawling himself ever wider over the space available to him which consists approximately of his third of the bed and as much of Roman’s space as he can liberate without being apprehended. His jam is a success, he is spending time with Janus again, and the genuine appreciation emanating from his brother is almost palpable. Just for good measure, he smears a little of the jam onto Roman’s nose. Just to remind him he’s still there.

Roman’s nose scrunches as the substance makes contact, but he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead, he just elbows his brother softly, achieving more of a gentle sway while crushed under most of Remus’s weight. He smiles, and takes another spoonful of jam.

Janus shakes his head fondly. He hasn’t seen Remus nearly as often since being accepted by the Light Sides, and much as some of Remus’s more...inventive antics...used to irritate him, he has found himself missing his constant predictable unpredictability. It is nice—refreshing—to see him again: especially without the usual weight of all the words yet unspoken between them. But that is business for another time.

Roman supposes that, even if he hasn’t got his own Crofter’s flavour just yet, Remus’s Roman Berry Jam is certainly the next best thing, even with the assortment of greenery he had found in the spread that he isn’t entirely sure was intentional. It was better, even, because Roman’s Berry Jam comes with a complimentary friend-brother combo (cuddles included), an eve of Disney movies, and, finest of all, the feeling that however much he may feel he isn’t good enough, or liked enough, or successful enough, he is appreciated. And for now—for this one, anomalous evening—that is all that he needs.

[mythicamagic]

Yo! If you're still doing the sesskag kiss prompts, can I ask for 17 or 23? Thanks! 😊

17: a kiss on the underside of the jaw.

----

He was a fool.

Sesshoumaru readily admitted this to himself at the cost of his pride. He truly was a fool.

Insidiously, the miko had wormed her way into every orifice of his mind despite every line of steel defence. There was no place where he was safe from her now.

Therefore, when she was away from him for a week- a cold, quiet week at that- but then proceeded to extend her absence longer, Sesshoumaru found himself stoically grim-faced and silent. Troublesome thoughts niggled consistently, worsening the longer her return delayed. But he was not sulking. Absolutely not. Nor brooding.

"Mi lord! Gah! I have found you at last!"

Well if she thought he was going to travel all the way to her, Kagome had another thing coming. He was not her faithful lapdog.

"Lord Sesshooooumaruuu?"

Yes, he was going to wait right there, sitting at the base of a tree. And he'd stew. Unless of course this mildly irritating green blob kept annoyingly darting up and down in front of his relaxed vision. Sesshoumaru lunged for it.

"Ach! Amn… Goof mornith' milord!" Jakem choked.

Sesshoumaru blinked and released him. "So it was you. Why have you come, Jaken?"

"There was no pressing matter exactly, sire. It's just that your mother...well she made some very rude remarks at your expense. I thought I should come here and get the story from you concerning why you haven't been at the Western Stronghold too much lately. Then I can set her straight!"

Golden eyes narrowed. "You presume to interrogate me?"

"NEVER MI LORD!"

"Inside voices, Jaken," he muttered flatly.

"Oh, forgive me," the kappa bowed. "Naturally you don't have to explain yourself, but what should I tell her in your absence?"

Sesshoumaru trailed his attention back to the cave he was sitting not too far away from. He refused to sit within it and pine. He'd been rather busy patrolling all week. He couldn't help it if his feet led him back to their spot at the end of the day, resulting in a haphazard attempt at watching over his territory.

"Tell her that what she suspects about my involvement with the woman is true," Sesshoumaru said calmly. Jaken started choking without any help from him now. "However, none may speak ill of the miko. That includes Mother."

"S-sire… I didn't want to believe it from the gossiping kappa demons, but did you really…"

Golden eyes slid shut.

"R-right, I'll keep my mouth shut. Well then, I shall relay your message at once!"

Watching him faithfully waddle away, something compelled Sesshoumaru to speak up. "Jaken."

"Yes sir?" he stopped.

"... This current arrangement will likely not last much longer," he uttered softly. "You may relay that too."

Jaken's cheeks glowed as he seemed pleased- so Sesshoumaru pelted him with a rock.

How irritating that the concept should bother him. However, he had the sinking feeling that Kagome would outgrow the need for him soon. Directing ageless attention to high branches where sunlight filtered through, Sesshoumaru took in a long breath. Sharp claws twitched.

He wondered what he'd do when she inevitably called for their little arrangement to end. Would he accept it with grace and dignity? Or would he lapse into old habits and become something jealous, dark and obsessive? Would he covet her- steal the miko away for himself despite her protests?

She likely thought that little encounter in the carriage had been a passing fancy on his end. Better she think that- than know he'd been watching her for some time. Sesshoumaru couldn't say when it had started- he'd merely been taking more notice of her.

And then he'd been trapped within Kagome's barrier.

It had happened about a month after her return to the past. Sesshoumaru had been minding his own business, walking through the forest with the intent to visit Rin, when he'd sensed a barrier be erected. It spread over a large distance in a dome shape, glowing bright pink.

Sesshoumaru had reached out to touch it- only to hiss and feel his own power stir, recognising how it potentially matched his own in strength. Then he'd heard a shout, and noticed the miko.

Kagome was fighting- alone no less. She launched arrows into lunging youkai and raced through the trees, not even noticing him. Something had piqued his interest, and he'd observed her the remainder of the fight as a hoard of demons kept coming.

When it was down to the last two oni demons- Kagome, bloodied and panting- had snapped and ordered them to 'wise up!' and 'get with the program!' He wasn't sure they really understood. However, she gestured around her to the carnage, telling them to back down unless they wanted to end up like their brethren.

And, miraculously- it had worked. They shifted and lowered their weapons, before reluctantly turning around and leaving. Kagome smiled and chose that moment to drop the barrier. It was then that Inuyasha's distant shouts could be heard.

Sesshoumaru's eyes had remained wide. Because he noticed- he noticed the split second of something unnamed on Kagome's face after hearing his half brothers swift arrival.

"I know you were just tryin' to protect the villagers but your damn barrier kept me from coming in, idiot! Look at you, you're a mess! You coulda died!"

"Oops," Kagome had giggled, waving it off.

She'd done it on purpose.

The miko had recklessly and selfishly created the dome with the express purpose of keeping everyone out. She had desired to kill the attacking demons on her own, without aid or interference.

And she'd taken charge so fast of two beings who were easily twice her size and potentially deadly in a fight.

Sesshoumaru's eyes had darkened and plumed red. Instincts clamoured in a rare moment of intrigue and desire. Fuck's sake, she was so fucking gorgeous.

Pale lips twitched and curved up at the sides. Yes, he truly was a fool for involving himself with her. But she'd been exquisite and wonderful in his hands, perfect in her capacity for cruel teasing and soft glides of her fingers. Kagome could also engage his mind and wits, challenging him and inviting the Daiyoukai to play and have fun with her. How silly. How...refreshing she'd been.

Were they all like that? Humans? He'd never made love to a mortal before- and wagered he never would again.

Hearing a foot drag over the earth, Sesshoumaru stiffened against the bark of the tree. Standing, he inhaled a lungful of her fragrance, before sliding his hungry gaze to hers.

Kagome looked changed after two weeks.

She wore what he understood to be 'red skinny jeans' along with a white shirt tucked in- giving her an appearance reminiscent of a priestess and yet not. A small sword had been tied to her hip, and a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder. Her hair had been partially tied back in a half ponytail.

Sesshoumaru slid his gaze down to the sword, recognising Totosai's work. The miko approached him radiating confidence, and he walked with slower steps.

Ah, it had happened sooner than expected. A shrivelling, sinking sensation shamefully welled up inside his chest. Instincts resisted the thought, chanting; 'mine, mine, mine!'

But the truth of it was there in her kind, guarded eyes. When they stopped before one another, she reached up on tiptoe and brushed an achingly gentle caress of lips against the underside of his jaw in a youkai expression he'd taught her- Sesshoumaru bit the inside of his cheek.

What are you apologising for?

His claws automatically slid around her wrist, expression flickering.

Kagome gave a wan smile. "...We need to talk."

[fremedon]

Brickclub 1.5.3-1.5.5 (but mostly “Vague Glimmerings on the Horizon”

I didn’t have anything to say that hadn’t been said about either of the last two chapters. I know originality is not the point of this readalong and I’m trying to get better at posting even when I have nothing new to add. So let’s talk about Javert!

First, though, let’s detour and talk about Valjean, who embodies the bishop’s ideal mayor from all the way back in 1.1.3: “He ended disagreements, prevented lawsuits, reconciled enemies. Everyone recognized his authority as judge.” Earlier in the same paragraph, we are told “there came a time around 1821 when the words ‘monsieur le maire’ were uttered at Montreuil-sur-mer with almost the same expression as the words ‘Monseigneur l’évêque’ had been uttered at Digne in 1815.” And yet he seems to have had as little moral influence as the bishop—despite all his homespun wisdom about nettles, and all the people flocking to M-s-m to consult him, there are very few people following his example, and those few, like the sanctimonious deputy, are doing so out of ambition and competition.

And then we meet the one man who has still resisted this “contagion of respect” that had infected the whole area: Enter Javert.

We get a great physical description, and also a kind of puzzling one, about having the air of authority without baseness—given what else we know about Javert, how does he escape the baseness? He is a CRIME BABY, A BABY MADE OF CRIME (thank you Mellow, that will never stop being funny). Baseness is what he’s got to work with.

Aaaand we get a ton of furry imagery, more than with any other character. He’s called a tiger, once—possibly the only negative cat reference in the book—but for the most part, he’s associated with canids: mastiff, fox-man, dog-man, and, most notably and chillingly, the dog son of a wolf, who if not killed by its mother will grow up to eat the rest of her young.

I’m really fascinated this time through by just how much of the language used about Javert in his introduction is going to be echoed in other characters. Even this image of the dog-child-of-a-wolf will be used again—by Éponine, of herself, in the standoff outside the Rue Plumet house. There was a good conversation about Javert and Éponine’s parallels on the Discord recently—including the fact that they switch deaths; Javert gets the self-drowning foreshadowed for Éponine and she gets shot at the barricade as he was supposed to.

I’m going to keep coming back to that, and to the idea that Javert’s story, or his fate, has gone wrong—has been derailed* long before he is, or allows himself to become, aware of it. And almost from Javert’s first page, he and Éponine are yoked by this image of a story that went wrong even before birth: the dog son of a wolf, permanently shut out from its own society, at odds with its parent, locked in a death struggle with its siblings.

That metaphor makes a fascinating frame for Éponine’s zero-sum game with Cosette—and for the idea we were talking about, about how a loving foster family would certainly have shared her fortune. Javert, we are told, “Would have arrested his father for escaping from prison and denounced his mother for contravening the terms of her release from jail”—but he only does this metaphorically, by proxy. Éponine will very literally turn on her own parents to guard society in the form of Cosette and her happiness.  

(*Oh, and look, the derailment imagery is here too: “He had introduced a straight line into what is most tortuous in the world.”)

The other character the language of his introduction evokes is Enjolras, for whom he will be set up as an actual opponent. Javert “is a spy as other men are priests.” Enjolras, of course, is the other character who gets the priest imagery, starting in 3.4.1 with his “priest of the ideal” and his variously translated “pontifical et guerier” nature.

In the same paragraph, we are told that Javert had “an understanding of the police like the Spartans’ understanding of Sparta”; in “How Jean Can Become Champ,” we get Spartan and priest juxtaposed and the juxtaposition called out: “this bizarre composite of Roman, Spartan, monk, and corporal, this spy who could not lie, this virgin snitch. ”

Enjolras is also the other character (with a couple exceptions, which I’ll come back to) who gets the Spartan references. Moving from Donougher to Rose, which I have in a searchable ebook: “Enjolras, we know, had something of the Spartan and the Puritan” in 4.12.3; and in 5.1.17, “Enjolras gravely ruled over [the barricade] in the attitude of a young Spartan dedicating his naked blade to the dark genius Epidotas.”

Given (a) the Corinthe and (b) everything, classical references are another thing that are almost always significant in this book. And aside from a few uses of lowercase ‘spartan’ to mean ‘spare’ or ‘frugal,’ there are a few other references to Sparta, all quite late in the book:

5.1.2, talking of real and fictional insurgents: “They were in the early hours of that spartan day of June 6 when, in the Saint-Merry barricade, Jeanne, surrounded by insurgents wanting bread, answered all the combatants clamouring for “Something to eat!” with, “What for? It’s three o’clock. At four, we’ll be dead.”

5.1.12, talking of the National Guard: “ Blood was lyrically shed for the good of the cash register; and the shop, that vast diminutive of the homeland, was defended with Spartan gusto.”

5.1.20, insurgents again, doomed ones this time: “They are but few; they have a whole army arrayed against them; but they are defending right, the law of nature, justice, truth, the sovereignty of each man over himself, from which no abdication is possible; and, if need be, they will die like the three hundred Spartans. It is not Don Quixote they have in mind, but Leonidas. And they forge ahead and, once they are committed, there is no going back, so they rush headlong, hoping for an unheard-of victory—complete revolution, unbridled progress, the betterment of the human race, universal deliverance; and, if the worst comes to the worst, Thermopylae.”

And then, 5.2.1, “The Intestine of Leviathan,” on our first introduction to the book’s real main character or at least its most important metaphor: "For we must flatter no one and nothing, not even a great people; wherever nothing is lacking, ignominy sits next to sublimeness; and if Paris contains Athens, the city of light, Tyre, the city of power, Sparta, the city of virtue, Nineveh, the city of wonder, it also contains Lutetia, the city of slime.”

To be Spartan, then, is not only to be virtuous, but to defend virtue—however constructed, even the bourgeois virtue of the National Guard—with one’s own life.

Other Observations: “A good social education can always elicit from any soul whatsoever the usefulness it contains.” Well that’s a damning comment on the dirtbag students.

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

*jhs / hanahaki! au/ 🌙☆

*4.5k written 

Summary: Hoseok desperately wants to continue your guy’s friendship despite his girlfriend Soo-min hating you. What he doesn’t know though is that even just being friends will kill you.

A/N: After much consideration what started off as a one-shot then two-shot, shall now have three parts. Thank you everyone for your patience. I appreciate all the support given to me.

—————————————————————————————————

White orchids spill from your mouth as you heave into the toilet only to miss. A minute passes before you collapse onto the cold tile floor of your restroom. Your eyes stare blankly at the white mocking flowers splattered with blood. How fitting for the product of your disease to be such a rare exotic flower. Most people who suffered from Hanahaki threw up roses or lilies, but you got orchids. It is as life wants to personally point out that your first and only time falling in love with someone is doomed.

Forcing the remnants of blood and flowers back into your throat, you stood up on shaky legs. It was 9:10 am last time you checked, and time you spent throwing up has  fucked up your morning schedule. If you don’t change soon you’d undoubtedly be late to your morning class. “Come on (Y/N), you can do it. No stupid flowers are going to-”

“(Y/N)! Are you ready?” a familiar jovial voice calls out, causing only more flowers to fall from your lips. 

Quickly you slam the door to the restroom shut, locking it for extra measure. Your mind races trying to figure out why the object of your affection Jung Hoseok was here. Sure he used to walk you to class every morning, but only to make his ex-girlfriend Soo-min jealous. Soo-min hated you with a passion. Which is why when Hoseok and her broke up, he thought fake dating you would be the best way to get her back-and it worked. 

For three months you faked a relationship with Seoul University’s  ‘sunshine boy’. At first you felt awkward not being a people person and Hoseok was under the impression that you were some sort of monster. Eventually though you two passed those hurdles. Hoseok broke through your icy barriers, he became your first friend and through him you began to make other friends. Everything went perfectly except for the fact you began to fall for him. 

 It started slow, but you could feel the symptoms progressing each day. His love began thawing the ice around your heart. Then a seed  planted itself in it sprouting leaves that grew like ivy. Soon after flowers escaped your mouth the sure sign of an unrequited love. Your love for him was real. Probably more real than anything Soo-min could give him. However Hoseok felt oppositely hence the Hanaki disease. 

“(Y/N)? Are you in there? “ Hoseok knocks. “It’s kind of late to be getting ready. Did you oversleep?”

“Yeah.” You croak. “I just got up. What …what are you doing here, Hoseok? Didn’t you and Soo-min get back together?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to, but you can’t help not to ask. You need to know for sure, before you make any decisions regarding your Hanahaki, you need to Hoseok got his wish. “….we did, but that doesn’t we can’t still be friends-”

    His answer both hurts and relieves you at the same time.  

“It means exactly that, Sunshine boy. You can’t be friends with me. You can’t even talk to me unless you want Soo-min to hate you.” You say, hardening your heart.

   Hoseok isn’t the type to abandon a friend for girl. Not even if he’s only known them for a few months. Which is why you need to be the bad guy here…for both your sakes. “(Y/N)…” Hoseok says.

     Taking a deep breath you opened the door coming face to face with the cherry haired boy you loved. His dark eyes gaze at you sadness radiating through them. You have a feeling he knows how right you are, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. “We can’t. Being friends with you will only cause pain and trouble for us. Trust me.” you reaffirm.

    Hoseok shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Not for one second. You are my friend whether Soo-min or anyone else wants you to be or not.”

       A vine shoots out at his words coiling tightly around your rib. It takes everything within you not to double over in pain as it bruises muscle and bone. You are so far gone, any sort of relationship with Hoseok will kill you. “What about what I want? What if I don’t want to be friends anymore? What if I am tired of dealing with you and everyone else?’ You snap uncontrollably. “I don’t want to do it, Hoseok. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Alright?! “

   Hoseok doubles back a crushed look on his face. “Alright. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone then.”

   “It is.”  You say looking away . You can’t handle the expression on his face. It hurts more than anything the Hanahaki does to you. A ray of sunshine like him should never be anything less than shining, especially not at the expense of an ice queen like you. 

    Later that night you receive a visit from Yoongi, Hoseok’s best friend/fraternity brother and the only other person who knows about your disease. The blonde haired boy arrives with an assortment of medicines, books, and pamphlets revolving around Hanahaki. It’s a sight that makes you both laugh and cry at the same time. “I heard you broke up with Hobi.” Yoongi says as he enters your dorm.

    You snort, shaking your head. “We weren’t really dating to begin with, so how can we break up?”

    “He looks awful. Almost as if you murdered his whole family in front of him.”  Yoongi mentions. “Seriously I’ve never seen him so upset. Not even when Soo-min broke up with him.”

      You look down ashamed. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but I-”

  “You had to.” Yoongi finishes knowingly. It’s only been a few days since you revealed to him your secret, but already Yoongi could see the damage done to you by this disease. You are paler than normal, skinnier too with dark circles under your eyes.  Your lips are chapped and your hair lost whatever shine used to be there. Overall you look like shit and Yoongi feels so fucking guilty for not noticing sooner. 

     “He’ll kill me.” You whisper sadly. “Just by being around me, this plant will grow and strangle me to death. It’s not fair-especially for Hoseok, who didn’t even ask for my affection.  So I have to stay away for both our sake.”

    It sucks, but you don’t doubt sunshine boy will bounce back. You’re merely another side note in his novel of a life after all. “Have you decided what to do yet?” Yoongi asks, looking over the pamphlets. “They have tablets that are supposed to reduce hanahaki growth, but they aren’t a permanent solution.”

     “There are only two solutions to hanahaki disease: death and surgery.” Tears well up at the thought. Neither option is preferably, especially since you know first hand the consequences behind them.

        “I hope you aren’t seriously thinking about death. I mean I get that you love Hobi, but it’s only a feeling. It’s not worth your life.” Yoongi says, his dark eyes pinning you with a look. “Besides it’s not like you two can’t be friends afterwards.” 

   Your lips curl into a bitter smile at his words. Memories of a vacant stare and careless question of ‘who are you?’ flash before your eyes. Yoongi’s naivety is not his fault. The horrors behind hanahaki surgery are such that even doctors belittle its effects. After all who wants to hear that the person they loved will be forever erased from their memories?

     And  like that night three days ago you confide in Yoongi about your horrible truth. “Hey Yoongi…have you seen someone go through hanahaki surgery?”

      Three hours later Yoongi stumbles home wanting to throw up. Your words play like a never ending loop in his head gripping tightly to his heart. ‘My parents suffered through Hanahaki disease when I was little. My mother died from it and my father forgot everything.”

  His knees buckle as he steps inside the frat house. For once it is silent. No one up playing video games in the living room, no loud music blasting, or groups of people conversing simply silence, something Yoongi can’t tell if he’s grateful for or not. On one hand he could use the distraction-the noise to blare out your tearful story, whereas on the other hand Yoongi’s glad no one is around to see him like this. 

    “Fuck.” he whispers to no one. “Fuck. Fuck..Fuuuuccck.”

He’s haunted by the calm expression on your face as you whispered. ‘Everyone thought my parents had a happy marriage. After all, my father loved my mother and she always smiled but I guess not all smiles equal happiness…my mother loved someone else. Who? No one knows. She never gave any indication of fancy someone other than my father. No one knew until I found her propped up against the toilet, roses sprouting from her lips like some macabre painting.“

  Seven. Seven fucking years old when you found your mother dead, yet you spoke as if she simply gotten a cold. If he didn’t know any better Yoongi would’ve thought you to be soulless. However the orchids clamouring out of your own body only proves  how much of a heart you did have. “Hey, man is everything alright?” Hoseok’s voice comes, as he steps into view.

    He’s dressed in his normal sleepwear, a white t-shirt and boxers cladded in cartoon birds. His hair is disheveled which normally meant he was sleeping, if not for the purple bruises decorating his neck. Anger flashes through Yoongi at the sight. Soo-min must be over, that fucking bitch. “Fine. Sorry for waking you up.” 

     “I wasn’t really sleeping.” Hoseok shrugs.

“I’ve noticed.” Yoongi says dryly. Logically the blonde knows it unfair to be mad at his friend. It isn’t Hobi’s fault you fell in love with him. Nor his fault that he loved Soo-min…but Yoongi can’t help himself-especially since Soo-min  replaced you. (You might’ve gotten over her bullying you, but Yoongi hadn’t.)

     “Ah yeah, Soo-min got a little wild. She’s never been this possessive before.” Hoseok laughed. “If making her jealous is all I got to do for sex like that, I’ll have to do it more often.”

   Yoongi didn’t even bother faking a smile. Hoseok already knew how much he and the rest of the guys hated Soo-min. “Whatever you say, just keep it down okay? I have a math test tomorrow.”

     Hoseok nods. “Of course. Sleep tight Yoongs! Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

 “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” Yoongi grumbles, walking away. Hoseok’s laugh echoes down the hall as Yoongi heads to his room. It is not until he falls back onto his soft bed that Yoongi allows the final tidbit of your confession to play.

  ‘Forget. That’s what the surgery makes you do. It doesn’t only erase emotions of love, it erases all memories pertaining to it as well. When my father returned from his surgery the first thing he said to me was, ‘who’s kid is this?”

  Forget or die, two shitty options for someone who already had it shitty. Yoongi closes his eyes thumbing the pair of keys belonging to a certain roommate of his. Slowly he slips the key covered in mickey mouse prints off. There isn’t much he can do to help you make your decision,  but perhaps Yoongi can make life a little easier for you. 

      A week passes from that day and Hoseok can’t ignore the gnawing feeling that something is wrong. He knows your guy’s friendship has ended, but the cherry haired boy can’t keep his distance. Not when every cell in his body screams for him to fix this somehow. 

      After three months of fake dating you somehow became a permanent fixture in his life.  He misses teasing you about your bad breakfast choices, or forcing you to eat an actual meal instead of coffee for lunch. He misses the way you listened to him, barely muttering more than ‘uh huh, ok, yeah’; it always seemed like you weren’t listening until you surprised him with a question or comment. 

   Hoseok just misses you period.

Which is why he decided to give your friendship one more shot. Surely if he misses you this much you feel the same. Memories of your callous words from a week ago come to mind tormenting his fear, suddenly Hoseok feels like he can’t breathe. You said he annoyed you, that you were tired of him, but that was just because you were scared of losing him to Soo-min? Once you see how genuine he is, you two will go back to being friends. 

     "I don’t want your stupid apple. I’ve already eaten. ” Hoseok perks up at the sound of your voice. He’s been sitting on the steps of the language building for the past half hour waiting for you. Your name dances on the tip of his tongue. Eagerly he opens his mouth to call out to you but freezes  at the sight of a familiar blonde walking beside you. 

      "A gogurt and a cup of coffee doesn’t count as lunch, dumb ass. Now eat the apple, it’ll help you from getting sick. “ Yoongi says, shoving the red fruit into your hands.  

     Something within Hoseok twists, he finds himself nearly doubling over in pain. A dark ember burns in his stomach, suddenly Hoseok wants nothing more than to punch Yoongi. "She hates apples. ” Hoseok can’t help but inform. “It’s her least favorite fruit. ”

   Both you and Yoongi jerk surprised by his presence. As if on instinct Yoongi steps forward blocking your view from him,  it causes Hoseok’s blood to boil more. “Hey Hobi, waiting for Soo-min?” Yoongi asks nonchalantly. 

     Hoseok bit his cheek suddenly remembering Soo-min has a class right before yours. The two of you share the same major meaning your schedules often coincided. He walked you to class everyday just to show off your “relationship." 

       "Something like that." 

    "Cool. See you at home I guess.” Yoongi nods, pulling you with him towards the door. You barely even glance up at Hoseok as you’re led away. 

    Again something twists violently in the pit of his stomach and the question, 'are you guys together,’ slips through his teeth before Hoseok can stop. The two of you freeze, Yoongi’s fingers tightening around your wrist. Suddenly Hoseok doesn’t want to know the answer.

     "Something like that. “ Yoongi replies, dragging you into the building. 

    Three weeks go by since your 'break up’ with Hobi, and ironically, you find yourself in another fake relationship this time with Yoongi. Unlike your previous pseudo-relationship this one contains nothing more platonic love. There are no fake dates or pet names. Yoongi doesn’t treat you like some girl he’s in love with. Instead he forces broth and anti-growth pills down your throat only to hold your hair back when white petals flow back up from it. He shields you from Hoseok,  Soo-min and the judgemental glances of the world, protecting you from harm. No, Min Yoongi is a god send, but you aren’t in love with him. 

    Sometimes you wish you were though. Loving Yoongi sounds easier than loving Hoseok, but that could simply be wishful thinking. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are two different elements. Hoseok is the warm sun melting away all your defenses, while Yooongi is a winter’s breeze offering relief from the sun’s rays while fortifying your protection. "So the date has been set. A week from now I’ll have the surgery and this will all be over. ” you announce, ignoring the painful ache in your chest 

    The idea of forgetting Hoseok scares you. You don’t want to forget him or the way he’s made you feel. As selfish as it sounds Hoseok is the first person to show you affection in years. Your family basically ostracized you after they discovered your father’s amnesia. While he could learn to love you again the possibility of him remembering your mother ran too high. So instead you lived as his niece with an aunt and uncle who despised you, because you looked like your mother. 

     Yoongi nods, glancing over at the calendar. He can’t help but frown at the date circled in red. “I know this is the only viable solution, but I feel like I should ask you if this is what you really want?”

   "No, but I don’t want to die either.“ You say softly. "As much as I want to hold onto these feelings of love, they don’t really belong to me, you know? Hoseok loves Soo-min. They’re her feelings not mine. ”

    Yoongi’s frowns. “Soo-min only loves herself. You know it,  I know it, and deep down Hobi does too.”

  "Maybe but it doesn’t change a thing.“ You murmur, eyeing the date. Your grip tightens around the mug you hold.  You don’t want to admit but you’re scared; scared of waking up the exact person you were before Hoseok: cold, intruding and alone. 

  Yoongi shoots a knowing glance. "Something else bugs you, doesn’t it? ”

   You take a sip of your tea. “ Don’t worry. It’s stupid stuff. " 

    It’s three days before your surgery that you see Hoseok for the first time in a month. Logically you know you should avoid him even if the appointment is less than forty-eight hours away. However you find yourself staying at the coffee shop, eyes unlocking from the cherry haired boy.  'Just one more glance.’ You assure yourself. 'Something to carry with me onto the operating table that’s all I want. ’

     But it’s more than one glance it’s several long stares, watching as the boy talks animatedly amongst his friends. He looks so happy right now practically glows like the sun. The sight is so beautiful it causes your heart to bear faster. This is what you wanted to see. Hoseok happy and carefree even if it is without you. 

   You smile, ignoring the painful pulse your heart gives when the Hanahaki’s vine squeezes around it. This is how things are meant to be. Hoseok deserves a life filled with equally bright people. He deserves happiness in every form. You aren’t.

     A content sigh escapes you. You swore to Yoongi, you accepted the surgery with no regrets, but that was all a lie. Seeing Hoseok like this though, so free and unaffected by your absence, you can finally let go of the little doubt holding you back. 

    "Order for (Y/N)!” The barista calls out sliding your drink across the counter. 

  You cringe at how loud they are; internally hoping that Hoseok hadn’t heard your name.  Seeing him from afar is dangerous enough, if you actually interacted with him…  You push the thought out of your head, quickly exiting the cafe, completely unaware of the eyes following you. 

   "You okay man? You’ve been staring at the barista an awful lot. “ 

    Hoseok blinks, tearing his gaze away from where you stood. The moment you walked into the cafe Hoseok could only focus on  you. It is like everything else disappeared except for you.  "Yeah I’m fine. " 

"You sure? Because if you like the dude that much, I can get you his number. ” Another, Jo Kwon teases. “Though I think Soo-min would kill both of us- wait! Isn’t that (Y/N) up there? Didn’t you two used to date before you and Soo-min got back together?”

     Hoseok nods barely listening. His focus once again on you, this time watching you leave. Neither Dino or Jo Kwon knew about the dumb deal or how sweet Seoul University’s Ice Queen really was.  While they are good friends, they were nowhere near close enough for Hoseok to feel comfortable sharing his secret. 

  "Gotta say you must’ve been really off your rocker, Hoseok. Dating such a scary girl. “ Dino snorts. 

   "Seriously, I heard (Y/N) got arrested for murdering her parents, but since she was a kid no one believed she did it.” Jo Kwon says. “You know someone should warn Yoongi-hyungnim about her. They’re together now aren’t they?”

    "Something like that…" Hoseok mutters. His chest burns at the mention of Yoongi and you.  While you refuse to even look his way, you have no qualms hanging on Yoongi’s every word and move. It is like Yoongi’s the sun and you’re the earth orbiting around him- it pisses Hoseok to no end and he can’t explain why. 

   "Maybe he just figured she’s an easy lay. I mean a girl like her is probably desperate for attention. She’s probably spreading her legs for anyone who looks at her-“ Hoseok’s fist hits Dino’s face before either one can process what is happening.

  The younger boy falls to the ground with a loud crash, causing everyone to stare at them. "What the fuck man!? You just hit me. ” Dino sputters wide eyed. 

    "And I’ll do it again if I ever hear either of you talk about (Y/N) like that again.“  Hoseok threatens. The anger within him is uncontrollable. He can’t explain it. Especially when it is not only Dino and Jo Kwon who pisses him off, but Yoongi too. Just the mere sight of the blonde sickened him nowadays. 

   "You’re crazy man. She’s a freak and she made you one too!” Jo Kwon says.

  Luckily, all it takes is a warning look to have them scrambling out of the coffee shop. “Assholes.” Hoseok mutters, ignoring the still plentiful stares at him. He reaches for his coffee only to pause when his stomach turns suddenly. Annoyed Hoseok pushes the cup away. He must be getting sick.

   Word of the fight spreads across the campus like wildfire. Fury does not explain the anger Soo-min feels when she hears about her boyfriend’s outburst. In all the years she dated Hoseok never once did he get offended for her sake. Boys literally listed off her body count at parties and Hoseok merely shrugged asking Soo-min. 'why does it matter when everyone knows you’re mine?“

    Mine. The claim used to send shivers down Soo-min’s spine. Yes, she was his. Just like how she owned him. They were meant to be no matter how many times they broke up. It didn’t matter if Soo-min decided to date around a little, because Hoseok would wait for her.  

   At least so she thought until one day Hoseok ended up on the arm of her biggest enemy. Originally Soo-min assumed he simply wanted her jealous- a clever ploy really, after all wherever she went you two appeared. Three weeks later though, you started wearing Hoseok’s hoodies. After that Beta-Tau-Sigma invited you to their house, a privilege which took Soo-min months to achieve, but the real straw to the camel’s back happened when Hoseok threatened her. 

   The cherry haired boy who cared little about gossip finally spoke out against it and not for her sake.  In that moment Soo-min realized the relationship between Hoseok and you ran deeper than she assumed. For the first time in her life,  Soo-min felt threatened in Hoseok’s and her relationship. So she ended it.

   With a bat of the eyelashes and the purse of her lips, Soo-min took back what was hers. Once again Hoseok and her were together while you cried your ugly heart out. Everything went back to normal. Except it didn’t. 

     Hoseok refused to leave you alone. He was determined to have some sort of relationship with you, despite now being with her. Not even you dating his own best friend stopped Hoseok’s unsettling obsession with you. 

   "I don’t expect you to understand, but (Y/N) is someone special to me. I can’t just let her go. ” he told her one night. 

  He was right. Soo-min didn’t understand. Nor did she want to. What Soo-min wants is you gone.  “(Y/N) (L/N), you fucking slut! Stay away from my boyfriend!” She hollers, charging after you. 

    You stare at her confused. The sight spurs her rage more so. How dare you act clueless! As if you don’t know what you are doing? She pushes past the throng of students cornering you against a tree. It’s just her no posse unlike last time. Not that Soo-min needs one to kick your ass.

   Since elementary school, she has worked to put you in your place. The only difference now is the strange attachment Min Yoongi has towards you. Last time he stopped her from teaching you a well deserved lesson. Today however he won’t be able to save you.  “I’m not in the mood Soo-min. ” you mutter, walking around her. 

    She grabs onto your hair yanking it. A small gasp escapes you as you tumble onto the ground. “Well I am. So you are going to listen to me and listen real good you got it?”

       "Fucking psycho. “ you spit.

   Her hands twist, tightening the pull on your hair. You reach up trying to pull away, but Soo-min’s stronger.  "Me? Psycho? No no you’re the heartless ice queen here. You might’ve tricked Hoseok and everyone else into thinking you’re some innocent little girl, but you and I know the truth. You are unlovable.”

     You let out a loud laugh surprising her. “Again with that hanahaki shit? You and our family have been holding that over my head for fifteen years.  My father’s disease wasn’t my fault. Nor was it my mother’s. ”

  Taking Soo-min off guard, your right leg sweeps back, knocking her off balance. She loses grip on your hair allowing you to push back. You stand towering over her. “Love is an uncontrollable force. You can’t choose who you love. Just like you can’t choose who loves you back.”

    Soo-min snorts. “What do you know about love? Your mother chose to love over her daughter, and your father chose life over you too. Meanwhile Hoseok only used you to get me back. He never loved you and he never will-”

    A small cough breaks through her rant. One tiny hiccup like cough that normally would go overlooked if not for a single orchid petal escaping your lips. She freezes eyes locked on the white petal. 

     "You…“  She hardly managed to say the word when you turn tails running. 

     Her body moves on its own chasing after you. She doesn’t want to admit it. Doesn’t want to acknowledge it but Soo-min’s scared. As much as she hates you, you are still her cousin. It doesn’t take long for her to catch up to you. Out of the two of you, she’s always been the more athletic one. Moreover thanks to the disease, you hardly make it  a few feet before heaving a basket of flowers up. 

    Soo-min stares at the blood soaked plants in horror. Full stems. You are throwing up whole plants. "You are dying. ”

     The words come out more blatantly then she intends, but you snort nonetheless. “Yeah, I am. Don’t celebrate yet though. I’m getting the surgery.”

       "You. You are in love.“ She continues speechless. 'But how? I mean who? Is it Hoseok?”

    "Yoongi.“ You correct quickly. "I’m in love with Yoongi. He ah he doesn’t love me though. He loves someone else so we broke up.”

   "Oh.“ Her throat tightens around the word. For the first time ever Soo-min does not know how to react. Deep inside she wants to reach out, comfort you, scream at Min Yoongi until she’s blue however she can’t. Not only does Soo-min know you won’t accept it, but there’s still something within that holds onto her parents’ prejudice 

     "Does he know?” Soo-min asks. 

You shake your head. “No. Nor does he need to. In two days this will all be a forgotten memory.” 

     Soo-min frowns. Her heart squeezes pain at the thought. It’s funny she’s always wanted to see you suffer, but not like this. Despite being little during your parents’ illness Soo-min remembers clearly everything that happened. From the hole your mother cut through you and your father’s heart to her uncle’s empty expression after the surgery. More than anything she remembers her warm fun loving cousin falling into herself. The person who was once her best friend suddenly distanced herself from everyone including Soo-min.

    It is a memory that stirs up something within Soo-min, she hasn’t felt in a long time…: guilt.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Little kitty on the roof who could see spirits- Adrien AUGreste Day 8

So I was gonna do this day but then couldn’t think of anything so I wasn’t going to, then when I was trying to think of an idea of what to do for day 9, I was thinking of, oh dinner for his mom’s birthday and then I thought of Ghost Whisper and when Melinda was thinking about his grandmother when her birthday was coming up and suddenly, I had to do this prompt, but with a much different twist. There is a minor mention of death. Hopefully you enjoy. @adrienaugust Little Kitty on the Roof

“Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady.” Adrien hummed to himself as he walked through campus of his university. He just got out of his Ancient Asian History class and he had time before he’d met with his friends for dinner and he didn’t want to go back to the mansion. He was sure his father found out about him moving out. He didn’t want to deal with that.

“What’s that song you’re singing?”

“Ahh!” he spun around to see a little girl staring up at him. There were a few factors that made something very clear to Adrien. One was that everyone passing looked at him, not her. Another was the clothes she was wearing. They suited the time period the university had first been built. The last one was the burst of emotions he was feeling. Ones that didn’t belong to him, but to the spirit of the little girl in front of him. He pulled out his phone and placed it on his ear before gesturing for the little girl to follow him.

“Oh, me?”

He nodded as quickly as possible before walking off, hoping she’d follow.

“So, what was that song? And why can you see me? I’ve been here a long time and no one’s been able to see me.”

“Let’s just say I’m different. I can see people like you. Come on.”

It was easy to find an out of the way bench so he wouldn’t have to have his phone pressed against his face the whole time.

“The song?” she asked again.

He let out a sigh. “It’s from a legend. My mom has been able to see ghosts or earthbound spirits since she was a child, same time I could see them. she did a lot of research and found a story about the first two people who claimed to see spirits. It’s said that they could do it with these artifacts. The little kitty refers to one who loved the other seer with all his heart. Unfortunately, his lady didn’t feel the same. She actually used the artifacts to bring back someone who died that she’d fallen for. The song is a warning about falling for someone.”

“Oh.” The little girl said. “That’s so sad.”

“Well,” he said thinking about Nathalie and his father’s change in relationship after his mother passed. He loved Nathalie, but it was always a sore spot that his father grew much closer to Nathalie not long after his mother’s passing. “It seems to be the truth. Now, how about you? why are you still here?”

As he listened to the girl explain his story, he thought about what she’d said. It was sad that the seer had one sided love. After seeing what his father had done after his wife’s passing and the extra struggles from just growing up with people thinking he was strange, not to mention the one time he trusted someone with his secret only for it to blow up in his face, it felt all too real. Who’d want to date a guy who saw the dead?

                                ____________________________

Getting woken up at 2 am to a fire wasn’t the best thing in the world. Though according to the fireman who came to corral him and others on his floor out of the building, the fire was taken care of but the interior had collapsed into the next building.

“Keep moving please.”

“Ah!” Adrien yelped as one of his slippers fell off. Before he could get it, the fireman directing them scooped it up and pushed him over to the other side of the caution tape. “Hey, I can walk myself.” The minute he was on the other side, his slipper was thrown on the ground with a tired ‘you’re welcome’ from the firefighter.

Adrien huffed and broke the rules by going on the opposite side of the tape to get his slipper. He’d dealt with rude spirits, but it was always the living that made his temper rise with their attitude. He moved to text Nino and the others when he heard his name being called.

“Adrien! Adrien!”

“Mme. Night? What’s wrong?” M. and Mme. Night were neighbours on his floor. While for the first couple weeks, people had been clamouring to see the former model, the Nights had easily beat the crowds back, all while offering him home cooked meals and checking up on him.

“My husband! He’s still inside!” the woman cried, her white hair seeming perfect for being woken up so early.

“Are you sure? Maybe he went around the corner?”

“No! he’s still in there! He’s at the bottom of the stairs!”

That’s when he felt it, the rush of emotions. Mme. Night was dead, but she wouldn’t move on until she knew her husband was safe. It was the least he could do to help the couple who looked after him.

He ducked underneath the tape again, heading toward a fireman who pulled his helmet off to reveal black hair with faded blue and aqua blue eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Sir, you’re supposed to be behind the barricade.” Adrien could tell from the voice it had been the rude one from earlier.

“There’s a man inside.”

“No there isn’t. everyone’s been cleared out.”

Using the same voice, he did with people who would be stubborn about the messages he had, he said, “Yes there is. Please believe me.”

It must have gotten through because the fireman stopped a passing co-worker and the two went back inside. He let out a breath and ducked back, going to the woman’s spirit.

“It’s on the first floor.” She kept moaning, clearly worried.

“They’re going to find him.”

Not long after, some announcement came through the radios as all the fireman stopped and even the hose was shut off. Everyone stood in tense silence before another announcement came through.

“We get 2, we found them!”

Before he knew it, the firemen came out supporting M. Night, sounding weak and coughing but alive. Mme. Night was fireman carried out and placed on a stretcher, confirming what Adrien knew. She was gone.

“I want you to check on him ok?” Mme. Night asked.

“I will, I promise. Thank you, for looking out for me. I won’t forget that.”

“I also hope you won’t forget how special you are. My husband isn’t going to keep trying to find you someone so you’d better keep looking ok?”

He wanted to roll his eyes, like he usually did when the question came up, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do that now. “I will.”

He watched as she passed where her husband was, passed the same rude fireman who was checking over him with such comfort, he didn’t think it was the same person. She walked into the building and when she walked into the light, the ripple of power caused one of the windows above to shatter. He had to be the only person who didn’t flinch and he noticed a pair of aqua blue eyes looking at him. He looked away, mostly to hide his tears.

Little kitty on the rooftop, all alone without his lady. Being alone seemed to be a theme for him.

                                               _________________

Nino and Alya and even Marinette insisted he stay at the DJ’s apartment longer. It was nice to talk to the only friends he had who knew about his ability and talk about Mme. Night. After the funeral though, with M. Night moving in with his daughter, Adrien knew he had to get back to life. Of course, all the snow and the week long sleepover left his refrigerator in shambles. He needed to go shopping, even if it happened to be pouring out. He was actually glad he didn’t take his mother’s umbrella as a sudden gust of wind turned his umbrella inside out, whacking someone he didn’t see until the last minute. One certain familiar fireman. With all the soot no longer on his face, he was able to see the piercings in his ears and the small holes on his bottom lip.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Please, let me. I can fix that. Remember me?”

“Yeah. You threw my slipper at me.”

At least he looked ashamed. “Tossed.” He looked even more ashamed as he broke one of the pegs, rendering the umbrella useless. He was glad he didn’t bring his mother’s own out even more. “Sorry. I’d be glad to buy you a new one.”

“Uh huh. I hope you’re better at putting out fires. It’s fine though.”

“I’m Luka. Luka Couffaine.”

“Adrien Agreste.” Other than a raised eyebrow, Luka blessedly didn’t ask any questions. “I should go.”

“Where to?” well, wasn’t someone Mr. Eager?

“An umbrella and groceries. I was at my friends’ place for a week and everything went bad, not to mention my place is covered in soot.”

“You know, I’m pretty starved. Let me take you out for something?”

“In this rain? Every place would be crowded.”

“Ever hear of the Umbrella Room?”

The Umbrella Room turned out to be Andre’s ice cream cart, but honestly, Adrien was fine with ice cream for dinner. Luka was turning out to be quite different than he thought. He was actually really nice and cute and he made Adrien feel comfortable.

“Ice cream for dinner, I can hear Nathalie crying.”

“I think she can forgive you.” Luka took Adrien’s wrist, making a circle around it with his fingers. “If my mom saw you, she’d try to stuff you full of food.”

“I’m always happy for a home cooked meal. But I have a feeling it might end up in a few fires?”

Luka laughed. “There’s a reason I joined the Fire Station. I want to be transferred to the Paramedics division though.”

When he was a sullen person, Adrien could easily see that.

“I have to ask though. You knew that old man was still inside. How?”

Adrien shrugged. “Lucky guess. I knew them and didn’t see them.”

Luka shook his head, keeping his gaze on Adrien. “No. You definitely knew they were there. Will you ever tell me?”

He wasn’t demanding an answer like most. He was waiting for Adrien to give him an answer.

“One day.”

                                        _______________________

“He sounds like a dream.” Alya teased as he joined his friends for the last bits of lunch before their shared English class. He’d already had lunch with Luka at the fire station.

“He’s…nice. Ok, more than nice. I haven’t felt this great since, you know.”

“Do you think you’d ever tell him?” Nino asked.

Adrien played with his ring. “I don’t know. I mean ‘little kitty on the roof’ and all that.”

“Please tell me you don’t still think that story is true? Just cause you see ghosts doesn’t mean you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. I know you’re are still upset about how quickly your dad moved on, but you know how in love with her he was. And that relationship with they-who-will-not-be-named doesn’t count. We never liked them and you said your mom didn’t either.” Alya said.

It was funny she mentioned his mom. It hurt that she was still Earthbound but he’d been so stuck on the song she’d taught him, she never thought he’d take it so seriously. She told him she wasn’t going anywhere until he saw he could be happy with someone. After his first official date with Luka, she appeared and wouldn’t stop talking about him like the sun rose and set on him. So far, there was nothing to dissuade her but still. It was kinda embarrassing.

“She’s right Adrien. You were so scared out of your mind to tell us and nothing we’ve heard so far says he would be worse than, you know. Plus, it sounds like he’s so gone for you. I don’t see him using any artifact to bring back a dead lover.”

“Well.” He started, remembering the long-haired guy he’d seen around Luka at times. “Not a dead lover. There’s definitely love when I see him, but it’s familial love.”

“Wonder what he thinks of you?” Alya said. “But seriously, forget how this kitty is lonely without his lady ok? You are happy with your lord. So, stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

He didn’t have to see his mother to know she agreed.

So, when Luka called him, telling him he had news one day and he saw that ghost hovering near him, he decided to take a chance.

“Luka, I’m so proud of you! you got the transfer you wanted.”

“Which means I’m a rookie all over again but it’s fine. Medical school was way too much for me but I still want to help people and now I can.” The ghost looked proud of him too. “Adrien, is something wrong?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…this is gonna sound really random, but did you lose someone in your life?”

Luka looked confused. “Um, yeah. My older brother, Sass. Why?”

Adrien took a deep breath. The last time he did this, it blew up in his face and he didn’t know if he could live through that again. “He has long hair, same blue eyes as yours and snake bites. Wearing something an 80s child would be proud of.”

Luka looked really confused now. “How do you know that?”

“This is gonna sound really weird, so just bear with me here ok? I can see ghosts or Earthbound Spirits, as my mom called them. Always have been since I was a kid. The reason I knew M. Night was still inside the night we first met? The spirit of his wife came to me and told me so. That’s why they were both there. She had passed on and she couldn’t let her husband to pass on. I’ve seen your brother around you and…”

“tell him I still remember him stealing my violin. He broke a string and wouldn’t give it back until he figured out how to redo it.” Sass told him.

“You stole his violin and when a string broke, you wouldn’t give it back until you fixed it.”

Luka hadn’t pulled away from him, though he kept shaking his head. “How do you know that?”

“Tell him he actually looks better with snake bites than I thought. I kept poking at him that he wouldn’t wear them as well as I did.”

He told him what Sass said and it seemed to click for Luka. “You can see ghosts, spirits sorry. Mom hated Sass’s snake bites and Juleka wouldn’t even consider piercings until she found some pairs she loved from Mom’s collection. You’ve been doing it since you were a kid?” Adrien nodded, feeling the nerves starting to slip from him. “But wait. I guess you help them move on, right? Sass died when I was 10. Why is he still around?”

“I stayed to keep an eye on my family. Once I knew they were happy, I knew I could go. Luka was there when I died though. He still blames himself.”

Adrien felt for Luka. To hold on to those feelings and still be willing to give a smile. “He stayed to make sure you and your family was happy before he left.”

“He’s still waiting on me, isn’t he?” Adrien nodded, and Luka let out a wet sounding laugh. “God, he’s so stubborn. Please tell me he didn’t tell you to date me.”

“No! no, he didn’t. I’ve been so scared of dating people. Last person I dated and told about my, um, secret, threw it in my face and made me feel like I wasn’t worth it.”

“Then they’re an idiot.” He said like he was stating a pure fact. He couldn’t help but feel his heart warm that. “I’m not going to change my mind about how I feel about you, even if you didn’t see my brother. I haven’t felt as happy as I am now until I met you. I don’t think that’ll change anytime soon.”

Maybe this little kitty wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

[titansandothersrp]

Memories

(This is a compiled roleplay between my Beast Boy muse and the Raven muse of @azarathian . This is a very old roleplay we wrote under different usernames, but I labeled our writing with our current usernames.)

azarathian (Raven):

All around her was flame and slaughter.

The skies above bled crimson down on the city, roaring with the inferno it bore, all ablaze in suffering and screams. Raven stood amid the carnage, upon the brink of a building she once knew, ingesting the horrors of the world unfolding before her. Along her flesh, lacerations of a burning threat laced her thin arms, the porcelain of her thighs. She grimaced against the heat, but could only endure, unable to move. Unable to look away.

In the distance, a throng of screams pierced her ears. She looked down at the rubble and wreckage to see her four friends, small as ants from her stance on the tower. Above the shrieks, a sudden, foreboding laugh echoed in the walls of her mind, only to swell like a chilling crescendo. Her blood curled in her veins the instant those four bloody eyes emerged in the sky, a sick sort of pleasure deep in their stare.

This was undoubtedly hell on earth. And she’d seen it before. She knew its relentless scald like the back of her hand.

When that sinuous claw plunged from above, she could only scream out, wide-eyed as the figures below were crushed beneath its merciless force.

All at once, her eyes were flung open. She launched upright in her bed, breath heavy and quick as it fled from her lungs into the darkness around her. Her pupils were shrunken in her sockets, hands quivering upon the mattress below her as she felt the bead of sweat trickle down her temple.

A dream. It was a dream. Just a dream.

The Azarathian relayed the fact to herself over and over in her mind, determined to calm her senses and bring herself back to the world of reality. Still, she shook in place, welding her eyes shut before prying them open again to gauge the sight of her room. She was safe. She was at home, in her room, and she was safe. She wasn’t in danger. Her friends were safe. That was all that mattered.

After several minutes of sighing out the trauma, the weight still pressed down on her gut like a boulder. She had to get air. She was practically gasping for it.

Immediately, she threw her duvet from her and rushed for the door, intent on the nearest exit she could reach. The clamour she made on her way out caused some noise, but she didn’t stop to think she might wake someone. She didn’t even know what time it was; she only knew it was dark.

The magus finally reached the tower’s main exit. She leaned against the door frame as the ocean wind hit her like a bullet to her skin. It shook her from her fear. Reminded her that she was awake and alive.

Slowly, Raven ambled down the rocks till she found sanctum upon a flat boulder, overlooking the surprisingly still sea. And finally, looking out to the city she knew was unharmed, she could breathe. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Beast Boy lied in his bed, not yet ready to sleep, only resting. Hands behind his head, he thought of Raven for the umpteenth time that night. She was just so amazing, he thought. It felt like anything he once viewed negatively about her, he could put a positive spin on. She was dark, which made her mysterious and interesting. She kept to herself, which made it all the more enjoyable when she joined him. She rarely smiled, which made each one a victory. Then there were the facts that she’s beautiful, intelligent, caring, and strong. His ears twitched as he heard some movement from Raven’s room. Was she awake? Morphing into a cat, he leaped from his bed and placed his ear to the wall. He could hear heavy breathing. It was just a bad dream, he assumed. Hoping she would fall back asleep and forget about it in the morning, he decided to leave her alone. Though he decided on leaving her alone when she exited her room, assuming she needed the restroom or something, he changed his mind when she didn’t return after a few minutes. Having a feeling where she was, he exited his room, then the Tower, to find her outside. Not wanting to startle her, he gave her a “Hey,” before approaching her and sitting down next to her. “You alright?”

azarathian (Raven): Relax. It wasn’t real. It was all in your head. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you, or your friends. Not any more… Breathe… Despite her rational thought struggling to pull her back to the present, her anguish and fear spoke louder. It had felt so vivid. She could still feel the singe of her fate lining her arms in his fire. The night’s chill was almost lost to the memory of cinders scorching in the air. Her skull pulsed, wavering from the truth and lingering to the past. With tense shoulders, she brought her legs up on the rock, arms leaning upon her thighs and hands limp across her knees. Once again, she tried to breathe in the crisp night-tide wind, eyes cast down solemnly to the waves lapping at the island’s bank.

“Hey.”

With a start, her head rose, but she gave no other movement. She should’ve sensed his presence a mile off, but had been drowned deep in reverie.

“You alright?”

Honestly, in that moment, she couldn’t tell whether the boy’s company was a blessing or a curse. Nonetheless, she lacked the will to reject it, merely sighing out as he took a seat beside her.

“I’m fine,” she lied, almost trying to convince herself of the same thing. She’d managed to regain that recognisable tone, level and composed, though her eyes held another story. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy):

“Raven… You don’t have to lie to me.” He knew for a fact that she was lying. Her posture, her eyes, the fact she was even out here… He knew something was wrong. “If you just need some fresh air and quiet to feel better, tell me. But don’t lie and say you’re fine when you’re not.” He hoped she wouldn’t tell him to go away, but he would understand if she did. He gave her the opportunity for some company and that’s all he could really do. “I just want to help. But, if you want, I’ll leave.” azarathian (Raven): In a way, she was grateful for his prying. Now she’d learnt to read his actions in a different light, she could appreciate that he was trying his best to make her feel cared for. Even the fact he said he’d leave if she wished hadn’t gone unnoticed; they really were growing to understand and respect each other better…

“It’s nothing,” she breathed, eyes still clung to the ripples of the sea beneath her feet.

“I just had a bad dream. I needed some air, that’s all.” She hoped the confession didn’t sound too pathetic, nor divulge the essence of fear she’d experience mere minutes before. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Just as he suspected. He appreciated that she told him the truth. “Well, at least it was just a dream, so you shouldn’t have to worry about it. I’ve had to do that too sometimes; get out of bed to clear my head. Especially with those nightmares where you keep waking up, only to realize you’re still in the nightmare.” He didn’t think any less of her for needing to calm down from a nightmare. It meant she had emotions just like everyone else.“You want to talk or anything? It might work as a distraction.” azarathian (Raven):

She knew he was right. She didn’t have to worry about Trigon any longer. Not in the real world, at least. Still, she felt him inside her like he’d never left. A feeling she’d grown used to her whole life, and probably something she would never fully be able to relinquish.

And in honesty, she wasn’t sure how much good talking would do, as the sibyl had never allowed herself to just sit beside another and share her feelings on such a matter. It was too personal. Too deep-rooted. And yet, his inviting words played on her thoughts as they sat below the canopy of cloud. It felt as though they were the only two in the world; as though they could scream if they wished, and no one would ever hear…

Raven bit at her bottom lip in contemplation.

“… Yeah. I think I do,” came her soft and tentative voice, though she truly hadn’t a clue where to begin. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He was a bit surprised that she agreed. Though they had been getting along, she had always been the listener. Maybe now he could be the one to listen to her and learn more about her. “So, what happened?” azarathian (Raven): She pressed her lips together, lost for where to begin. Her brows creased a touch as she envisioned the dream again in her head; a sight she didn’t really wish to dwell on, but still helplessly felt the need to share with the other. “It was about Trigon.” She managed to force out the sentence, and that was all she needed to spur her on with what followed. “He was back on earth. Everything was destroyed, and…” Her voice trembled a little in the back of her throat as the images played before her, almost tangible. “It felt so real. Like he was really here again.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): His eyes widened a bit at the mention of Trigon. He could see why she would be frightened by that. Seeing the planet you and all those you care about destroyed must really take a toll on the mind. He needed to make sure she felt safe. He could only do so much, but he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But it wasn’t real. You already lived through your worst nightmare. And you won. You defeated him and he’ll never come back. And even if he did, you’d just defeat him again.”

“It’s okay to be scared, but you don’t need to be. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll always win in the end.” azarathian (Raven): She accepted the reassuring touch to her shoulder, and her eyes flitted to his direction without actually rising to meet his own. “It’s just… hard. His presence has followed me since I was born. Sometimes… it’s hard to believe it’s over. That he’s really gone.” Despite her fears, she knew her words to be true; for it was over. He was gone. But even having defeated the merciless demon she called her father, he still managed to plague her in her thoughts. In her sleep. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “I guess it would be hard to let go of something that’s affected you your whole life… You were told your whole life you couldn’t defeat him, weren’t you? You were discouraged all that time. And you still did it. Imagine what you could do when encouraged!”

“You can do it, Raven! I believe in you! Beat up those doubts!” azarathian (Raven): Optimistic as ever. If anything, the lively lilt to his words served to tug her all the more back to reality and away from her nightmares. And for that, she was grateful. The events of her fate had happened over a year ago now, yet she imagined it would take a much longer time before she could find true peace with the fact it was over. As he questioned her, she nodded lightly. But when his little peppy cheer followed, she couldn’t help the giggle it drew from her once frowning lips. Finally, she looked to him. “Easier said than done, but I’ll try.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Yes! He got a smile and a giggle out of her! “I’ll be here to cheer you on. I’ll even get pom-poms, if you want!” He chuckled.

“By the way… if you wouldn’t mind… I was wondering… What was your life like before the Titans? We’ve known each other for years and we’ve been talking more recently, but I feel like I don’t know much about you. I want to know you better… If that’s okay.” azarathian (Raven): The smile faded from her face, a look of hesitance taking its place. As a breeze passed between the two, she let a pause linger before speaking up. “What do you want to know?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy):

He noticed her smile fade. Was he pushing it? “Well, things like where you’re from, what your childhood was like, who raised you, how you learned to control your powers. If you’re not comfortable with that, you don’t have to tell me.” azarathian (Raven): She shook her head, assuring him she didn’t mind him asking. She just wasn’t quite sure how to answer; her past wasn’t something she could exactly sum up in a sentence or two. “Well…” She swallowed, hands moving from her lap to press down on either side of her against the rock she sat on. Leaning back slightly, the wind caught the tresses of her hair as she breathed out, searching for where to begin. “I’m from a dimension called Azarath… It’s where I grew up, until I came to Earth.” The latter three questions he’d asked honestly all tied in together. “I was raised in a temple there, by Azarathian monks… they’re the ones who also trained me to control my powers.” So far it sounded like a somewhat decent childhood. Raven didn’t know quite how to explain the intricacies that proved it was anything but. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He nodded slightly as he listened. He could relate to being raised by those other than his birth parents and being trained to better utilize his powers, but he suspected that their experiences were quite different. “Was it nice in Azarath? Was it anything like Earth? You didn’t seem to have much trouble adapting to our culture, like Starfire did. Or did you research it ahead of time? Given your smarts, I wouldn’t doubt it.” He kept his eyes on her, hooked on every word she said. He wanted to know all he could about her.

azarathian (Raven): Truth be told, Azarath had been a place of beauty before the destruction of Trigon. Raven could see the labyrinth of buildings, the glassy spires towering tall in her mind’s eye. But though it was beautiful, that didn’t mean it was nice. For the magus, at least, her home divulged memories of isolation, rejection, and suffering from both her people and her mentors. She was the devil’s child, after all. Her home was the husk of a young girl’s lost hope. It was only upon coming to Earth did she learn what true happiness felt like.

“It was… similar, in a lot of ways,” she began. “My people are pacifists. Their culture has its differences, but it was easy to adapt here. I can’t say I had the same childhood as any other on Azarath, though. I think that makes my perspective distorted from the rest.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He found it strange that he could relate yet again. Even before he got his powers, he most certainly didn’t have an average childhood. “Pacifists, huh? Does that mean they were gentle with raising you?” He thought for a moment. “Or were they strict like some of the religious people here?” He hoped they were kind, but he knew in his gut that they weren’t. If they were kind and loving, why would she have been so cold when arriving to Earth? He frowned deeply at the thought of Raven being mistreated.

azarathian (Raven): She released a long, deep sigh to the wind. She should’ve guessed this question was coming, and yet it still stunted her to think back on her time under the monks’ meticulous hold. “Strict,” she confirmed, a waver in her tone. No point in sugar-coating the experience, she thought. “They trained me every day, from the break of dawn to sunset. They had to. I wasn’t allowed to feel, or I’d be scolded… It was only when I was around six years old that I began to understand why.”

A silence hung between them for a moment.

“They had their reasons. They all knew who I was – what I was. I had to be under control at all times, or else who knows what would happen. So I was kept in the temple where I grew up. I couldn’t leave or see anyone from the outside. It was… not your average childhood. Even by Azarath’s standards.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “And I thought Mento was strict…” He mused aloud. “Not being allowed to feel… That must have been harsh. I can’t imagine living like that… I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a real childhood… But… I suppose the past is in the past. You have your whole life ahead of you now. With us. You can feel all you want with us.” He offered a small smile. “Feel what you want, talk to who you want, do what you want… You have a new life now. Live it as you see fit.” azarathian (Raven): In reality she knew that he had no idea. The experience of her youth was not something that could be fully understood by merely reciting it; in fact, doing so was simply scratching the surface. Still, he meant well. He just wanted to know more about her, and in many ways, she wanted to tell him more about her. “Yeah.” Her heavy tone seemed to settle a touch as the prospect of the future dawned upon her. Her past was just that, after all. Past. Not present, nor future, and for now she could live her life as she wished. No longer burdened by her destiny or her father. Reflecting on this, the weight in her chest lifted and she returned Beast Boy’s smile with her own. “You’re right. And I’m thankful for it.” The girl clung her eyes to his. “What about you?” she asked. “Where were you raised?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): She wanted to know about him? That was a good sign, right?

“Me? Well, believe it or not, I wasn’t raised in America. Not at first, anyway. My parents, my real parents, were biologists. We traveled the jungles of the world for their research. My childhood was spent in Africa, Brazil, India… lots of places, really. Since we traveled so much, I didn’t go to school. My parents taught me instead. They were hoping I’d grow up to be brilliant, like them. So much for that, huh?” He gave a slight chuckle. “That’s why my real name is what it is. They told me I was named after a famous doctor, not the comic strip cat.” azarathian (Raven):

“Really?”

She knew bits and pieces about Beast Boy’s past, but had always assumed he’d grown up in America. California was where he was when she’d met him; she thought at most he’d have lived somewhere outside the city, but not outside the country.

“Too bad you act more like the cat than the doctor, though,” she smirked at him, watching his reaction before she decided to ask more questions.  titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “Yes, really.” Deciding to have a little fun at his own expense, he pouted.

“I hate Mondays!” He gave her a playful smirk. azarathian (Raven): “The resemblance is uncanny,” she drawled. “So, what was it like travelling ‘round so much? Did you like it?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “I liked it. It was all I knew, at that point. I got to meet lots of people, see lots of animals, try different kinds of food… It sucked when I met someone cool and had to leave though.” azarathian (Raven): “Yeah, I can imagine.” It was actually proving very interesting to hear about Beast Boy’s past; she found it hard to imagine him as a child. To imagine him without his powers and living his life before the titans, or even the Doom Patrol. Suddenly all kinds of questions formed in her head, and she was eager to have them answered, if not for anything else then to serve as a good distraction from her own past memories. “And your parents? What were they like?” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy):

“They were great, smart, adventurous, loving… all around great people, really. From what I remember, everyone seemed to like them. They knew a lot of smart and interesting people. They used to show me off.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t very bright, but they had me recite animal facts I knew. I’d always loved animals, even before I got my powers.” azarathian (Raven): His reflective smile mirrored on her face as she watched him and listened. There must’ve been something very bittersweet about discussing his childhood, she assumed. It sounded like he had quite a nice one while his parents were still living. She gave a light chuckle. “Did they show off your ears too?” she teased. But as soon as the words left her, she instantly shunned them, for she realised a second too late that, of course, he wouldn’t have had his pointy ears at that time. Nor his green complexion, nor fangs, nor powers. It had been a stupid mistake, but she feared now she had stirred some of the not-so-happy memories. This unease made itself known in her frown and creased forehead.

“Oh, I mean-” she scoured for a save, but couldn’t find one. “… Sorry.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He gave a weak smile. “Heh. It’s fine. But, no, they didn’t. I only had my powers for a very short time before they… y’know…”

“They gave me my powers, you know. Back when I was around seven years old, my parents were searching for a rare green monkey. They found it… or rather… I found it. I thought it was pretty. It was little and fluffy and green, my favorite color.”

“Being a dumb little kid, I tried to pet it. But, when I got close, it bit me. Then I got sick. Really sick. The bite gave me the Sakutia virus. In order to save me, my parents made a mix of animal… antigens, I think it was? It cured me, but also gave me my green appearance and ability to transform.” azarathian (Raven): “– before they… y’know…” She felt a lump form in her throat, a pressure grow in her chest. But her eyes stayed on him. “Mm,” she nodded in understanding. “It must’ve been a big scare for you all. It’s a good thing your parents were such brilliant people, and could save you. You must be proud to be their son…” Hesitantly, her smile attempted to return, though this time around there was a certain sympathy weaved within it. A brief pause deterred her speech. “And there’s no doubt they’d be proud to be your parents.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “I am proud to be their son, but, do you really think they’d be proud of me? They were geniuses and I’m… not. And they were able to save me, but I couldn’t save them.” He looked a way, being overcome with a feeling of guilt. “There was a flood… about a month after I got my powers. I tried to save them, but I couldn’t turn into any animal that was strong enough. I kept trying and trying, but I couldn’t get them to safety. I watched them drown… before I flew away.”

azarathian (Raven): As she absorbed the story, a frown formed. It was a horrible thing to hear, and she could only imagine what the reality of living it had felt like, and to a child no less. Raven had always known that her teammate’s parents were no longer alive, that they’d passed when he was very young. But until now she had been unaware of the intricacies their tragedy held; that Beast Boy had been present to witness his parents’ death, that his life was almost taken along with theirs in the chaos. The guilt he harboured was evident in his pained expression, and caused Raven’s stomach to churn with empathy for the boy. “Beast Boy,” she said, a hand instantly planted to his shoulder to better keep him grounded. One of them had to be strong here, and though the changeling was incredibly strong in his own right, she undoubtedly had far more practise with controlling her emotions.

“You and I both know that their death wasn’t your fault. Don’t think it for a second.” Her tone was stern and level. It had to be, for his sake, though she could have easily succumbed to the same temptation to release tears. It was against her nature to do so, by now.

“We can’t change what happened. But know that they would be proud of you. Despite all that’s happened, look at where you are now. You should be proud of yourself, too.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He was trying his best to keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He brought his hand to the empath’s on his shoulder. Grabbing it tightly, perhaps too tightly, he tried to find the strength not to break down completely. He took sharp breaths as he choked back sobs, unsure of why he was fighting it in the first place. Raven told him it was okay to cry, but he’d spent so long trying to pretend he was happy all the time. His breathing began to calm and he loosened his grip on her hand, but still held it for support. “I guess I was responsible for taking down the Brotherhood of Evil.” He said trying to stay positive. “I never thought I’d be able to lead like that.” He offered a strained smile. azarathian (Raven): The hand upon her own didn’t go unnoticed, and though her eyes flitted to the sight for a moment, there was a more pressing matter before her. In the space of a mere few weeks, she’d never seen the teen so vulnerable and willing to open up before. And she could now say that this wasn’t the first time her friend looked upon her with teary eyes. His unfaltering facade of constant merriment and revelry was once again peeling back to expose the troubled and tortured boy beneath. She let him breathe, though his breaths came in sobs. It didn’t matter. He needed a moment to calm himself, and she knew this. Sure enough, before long, he seemed to regain himself as best he could for the moment, and it was then that Raven looked on at him with complete patience and consideration. “But you did,” she said. “And you’ve done much more.” Her hand fell from his shoulder as she leaned back and looked out to the sea. “You’re a hero, Beast Boy. I think because we do this sort of thing every day, it’s easy to forget that…” Her eyes found his again. “I’m sorry you couldn’t save them… But you’ve saved so many others since, and for that you should be proud.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He brought his hands to rest at his sides on the rocky shore. Taking a deep breath of the night air, he exhaled, calming down a bit further. He looked to her with a smile. “I may have not been able to save my blood relatives, but I have saved my family more than once; the Doom Patrol, you guys…” He looked to the sea and sighed.

“But that wasn’t always appreciated. Did I ever tell you how I first turned into a large animal?” That was a rhetorical question. He knew he hadn’t. “We were fighting the Brotherhood of Evil; me and the rest of the Doom Patrol. They had a black hole generator. They got caught in some sort of trap of energy that was hurting them and they couldn’t escape from. Mento told me I needed to destroy the generator. It was too big for me though. But, when I saw my team, my family, in danger like that, I was finally able to transform into something big; a T-rex!” He smiled excitedly. “I finally turned into something big! And my first priority was to set them free. I destroyed the trap with my giant tail and freed them! Negative Man took out the generator after that. I was so happy! After years of trying to transform into something big, I did it! I transformed and saved my family! I was so excited when I told Mento I finally did it, but…” He frowned as he remembered what happened next. “He just yelled at me. He yelled at me because I saved their lives instead of destroying the generator, which got destroyed anyway. He told me I would never be a part of the team if I couldn’t follow orders.” azarathian (Raven): “Did I ever tell you how I first turned into a large animal?” Though he wasn’t looking at her, she gave a small shake of her head, listening intently and absorbing the mingle of emotions in his face as he relayed the memory. “He’s a harsh leader,” she stated with assurance. She knew this already from having observed the way he treated his own team during their fight with the Brotherhood. “You have to see things through his eyes. He looks at the bigger picture, beyond his team. To him, they’re second priority to defeating the villain. That’s the most important thing. But we don’t do things his way. We look out for each other, and when that happened for you - when you transformed - that’s what you were doing. Looking out for your team. Your family. … Just because he does things differently doesn’t mean it’s right. You did the right thing, in the end.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “Tell me about it. I lived with him for years. I know what he’s like. He sees the bigger picture… unless you achieve the bigger picture without following his orders.”

He scowled, showing his anger at his former leader. He’d never have talked like this while he was back with the Doom Patrol. Mento would never allow it. “He only cares if you obey his orders, thinking he always knows what’s best in every situation. He acts like you can’t see the bigger picture and care about the smaller one at the same time. I know what I did was the right thing, but it burns me up to think of how he’s supposed to be a leader, but he can’t lead us to do the right thing.” He was on a rant now, one that had been building up for years. “And he cares more about being the Doom Patrol than anything else. We’re supposed to be a family too. Him and Rita? They’re my adoptive parents. Legally, I’m their son. But, did he care? No. Whenever Rita showed me too much affection, Mento would argue with her, telling her I needed more discipline. He’d even get mad when I called Rita Mom. She’s my mother now, but I can’t even call her that in front of him. Is it really that much to ask to be a team and a family?“ azarathian (Raven): Only remnants of how Beast Boy felt towards his adoptive father had shown through in the discord of their battle with the Brotherhood, but even then it had been apparent to any observant eye that he held within him certain dregs of resentment from how the man had treated him in his youth. Clearly Mento wasn’t the ideal father figure; it was somewhat a surprise Beast Boy turned out the way he did considering the strict and steely nature he’d been raised on. In her mind she credited him for not having picked up on the man’s traits, and felt almost grateful for the fact. It just didn’t suit the boy to be cold and sharp. He could’ve grown into someone she wouldn’t recognise as her teammate at all, but thank Azar, he seemed to maintain his true parents’ innate kindness and zeal. “It’s not. And that’s why you’re with us now. We are your team and family. And you don’t do things his way anymore. We have our own way, and that’s all you need to focus on now. Let him lead his team how he sees fit – you’re no longer a part of it.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He sighed. “You’re right. The Doom Patrol are adults. They can speak out or leave the team, if they want to. I didn’t really have that choice… I mean, I guess I did. I did leave eventually. I just didn’t leave sooner because I didn’t want to be a wandering, homeless orphan. It’s not like I would have been adopted again. Who would want a kid who’s green?” He paused. “But, that’s the past, like you said. I have a home now, with the Titans. And I can visit the Doom Patrol whenever I want. I have two homes. That’s more than most people have.” His usual grin returned. “I guess I do have it pretty sweet right now.”

azarathian (Raven): “Exactly,” she smiled, relieved to see that cheerful air return to him. “And if you find yourself hung up on the past again, just try to remember that. Things are different now, for all of us. It’s all worked out in the end. That’s what matters. ”In a strange way, she was grateful he’d shared these concerns with her not only because it disclosed his trust in her, but also because it served as a good distraction from her own burdens that had led her to reflect outside the tower in the first place. She might not have two homes like the boy beside her, but she had her friends, her home, her whole future - all things she had been completely convinced were intangible things. “I guess we all have it pretty sweet right now,” she echoed, quite unlike herself, but in the moment she didn’t care. It was true, after all. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He chuckled, not used to Raven using the term “sweet” in such a manner. Smiling to himself, he watched the sea with a content sigh. He was in a good mood now and she seemed to be too. Maybe now would be a good time to ask something he’d been planning to… “So…” He drummed his fingers against the rocky shore. “Do you wanna hang out tomorrow? I was thinking we could visit that one cafe and you could recommend a tea you think is good. I never really drink the stuff, but you make it look like it’s delicious.” Honestly, he wasn’t interested in tea. He just wanted to go somewhere with her he knew she would like. azarathian (Raven): The little laugh merely deepened the warmth in her smile, eyes soft as they looked to him. She hadn’t understood just how important his happiness was to her. There was something extremely wrong about seeing Beast Boy upset and distressed, and she honestly felt a certain need to amend the troubles in his mind. At his offer, she blinked a touch, a blend of surprise and an unexpected flurry of something else. Something unfamiliar… … Eagerness? For some reason, the first answer that formed in her mind was ‘Yes.’ Nothing more, nothing less. And the realisation of this instinctively shocked the girl, for such a proposal would’ve always led to a solid, sturdy ‘no’. When had that changed?… “That… sounds nice,” she admitted, tactfully revealing but a tinge of the emotional flood stirring within her chest. Behind her ribs, a faint flutter dwelled, though she ignored the sensation as best she could. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Yes! He was celebrating internally, trying to keep the excitement from showing. He didn’t want to put her off with his eagerness. “Alright, tea for two tomorrow it is then~” He stretched with a yawn. He hadn’t slept that night yet and he was starting to feel the effects. “Hopefully, it’s the kind that wakes you up.” He chuckled. azarathian (Raven): If she were to dwell on it, Raven would come to conclude that the arrangement seemed, in short, entirely extraordinary for the two. True, over the past month they’d spent a handful of times together without the presence of their fellow companions, and yet no such thing had ever taken place outside the tower before. Of course, this discluded matters regarding their profession; patrols and the like weren’t exactly considered leisurely. Who knew? Perhaps having grown closer to one another, spending some time just for the sake of it could be nice, after all. Ultimately, there was only one way to find out, and against her reputation, some unknown force was undoubtedly urging her to take the chance. His yawn brought her to her senses, acknowledging how late it had become during their talk. Time was something completely unknown to her in that instant; they could’ve been sat out on the harbour for a mere ten minutes or an hour. Either way, she wouldn’t know.

“Yeah,” Raven returned wearily. “Maybe we should… go back inside. It’s late.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He pulled his sleeve up to check his watch. “You’re right. Jeez. I didn’t realize how late it was.” He stood up and stretched. “Gotta get to bed.” He turned and headed towards the tower. azarathian (Raven): As he rose to his feet, she granted herself one last glimpse of the ebony ocean waves and city lights before following his lead and heaving herself from the rock she’d been sat upon. “Yeah,” she agreed softly, cloak catching in the breeze as she followed his path and quickly caught up to his pace.  Hopefully this time she would be able to get back to sleep with ease. Her mind certainly felt more settled and calm than it had been before the other joined her.  titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): Once inside, Beast Boy gave a “Goodnight.” and headed for his room. Rather than going straight to bed, however, he decided to look for something first. Finding the item, he tucked it away and headed back to Raven’s room, lightly knocking on her door. “It’s me. Mind if I show you something real quick?” azarathian (Raven): “Night,” she echoed quietly, careful not to wake any of the others now they were back in the tower’s corridor. She entered her room and let the door slide shut behind her, but as soon as she took her first few steps she was halted as she heard a light tapping again at her door.  She turned and paced back to the sound, to be met with the same face she’d talked to through the night. “What is it?” she asked, curious. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He smiled. “Something I’ve never showed any other Titan. After the talk we just had, I think you should see it.” He pulled out a photo and handed it to her. The picture showed a man, woman, and young boy. The three were posing in front of a lion enclosure at an animal sanctuary. The boy was pretending to have claws and snarling at the camera while the other two made similar faces. azarathian (Raven): When he took out the photograph, her eyes fell instantly to it, taking in the image it displayed.  The two adults looked like no one she’d seen before, but the child… He looked awfully familiar, in a vague and strange way. The boy adorned messy blonde hair, a fair complexion and bright, baby-blue irises that seemed to light up his entire face.  She surveyed the picture, a twist of confusion burnished in her wandering stare. And then, like a bolt, it hit her. Her lips drew apart and brows rose in succession.

“Is that you?”

Bewildered, the question left her with a heavy resonance that almost filled the hallway.  titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s me. Not Beast Boy, but Garfield.”

“Hard to believe it’s me, huh? And those are my parents, if you couldn’t tell. It was a long time ago, but, if I remember right, we were at an animal sanctuary in Africa. We visited a lot of those when I was a kid. Most people can’t just visit a sanctuary, so I was lucky to get to see all those animals like that.”  azarathian (Raven): Raven’s fingers found one of the photograph’s edges, tracing over the border before gently taking hold of it to get a better look. When Beast Boy released his own grip on the photo she took it as a sign of permission to do so, so she brought it closer to her line of sight, absorbing every aspect of the three figures within. Her face was wistful, and her eyes once again examined the boy in the photo, only to look up and compare to the teen she saw in front of her and had come to know. “Lucky you,” she smirked, resisting the urge to tease. It was just such a rare thing to see him like this; it was almost as if she was looking at a different person, and yet certain features made it clear that they were, in fact, one in the same. She noted the playful way his parents mimicked the lion claws and snarl. “They look like they were really great people…” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): “They were. Even though they were busy people, they always made time for me. They took time from their work to have fun.” He looked at the picture in Raven’s hands with a smile. “I think that’s part of why I am the way I am. They taught me you can work and play. They also knew how to make me smile. It’s funny. Even though she was my mom, she would always tell dad jokes to cheer me up. Dad usually just made faces. They made it difficult for me to ever be mad at them. They always wound up making me laugh.” azarathian (Raven): Somehow it was all seeming to fall into place; why Beast Boy so stubbornly remained the jokester that he was. His parents clearly influenced his personality far more than the trauma he’d lived through had. Far more than Mento’s constant berating. No - the changeling stayed determined even after all these years to preserve the positivity his parents left with him. And Raven was only realising this now… It all made sense. And, honestly, she admired him greatly for it. “Safe to say you’ve inherited that side of them,” the empath smiled. “They’d be happy you have, too. Even if it tends to grate on the rest of us.” It was merely another tease, and she knew he’d recognise it as such by now. titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He chuckled.

“I try~ I try~” He smiled. “Thanks, Raven. It means a lot. I used to worry I was just a goof, but talking about it made me realize I’m more like my parents than I thought. And since they were great, I guess that makes me great too. And hey, some people like the comic relief guy!” azarathian (Raven): “And when you find those people, I’m sure you’ll feel very fulfilled,” she smirked, handing the photo back to him with a light touch so as not to crinkle the corner. “Thanks for showing me. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did.” titansandothersrp (Beast Boy): He smirked right back. “It’s a shame there aren’t any people like that staying in the room next to mine.” He chuckled, taking the picture back. “You’re welcome. Thanks for listening. I don’t get to talk about my parents much. It felt nice. Well, I’ll see ya.” azarathian (Raven): “Tragedy,” she returned with a slight glint in her eye, willingly playing along. “It’s fine. Sleep well, see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned back to her room and once more the door slid shut behind her. As she wandered over to her bed, she noticed the clock on her bedside table read 3:40am. The moment the hour dawned on her, her eyes felt suddenly very heavy. Sleep was calling for her, and this time she had faith that her return to slumber would be a more pleasant one. She hoped, at least. As the heroine slunk beneath her quilt, she allowed her thoughts to dissipate into the air. She no longer had the energy to mull over nightmares of the past; though, if Raven had possessed any energy at all, she would’ve probably found herself contemplating a different matter entirely. No longer would Trigon occupy her thoughts, but the acknowledgement that she had, in fact, agreed to an outing with her green teammate for the following day. Willingly agreed. Because she wanted to. Indeed, had she possessed the energy, this realisation would’ve almost certainly plagued her mind well into the dawn. However, as it happened, the poor sorceress was entirely drained as her cheek nuzzled into the pillow beneath her. Slender fingers curled around the bridge of her duvet, pulling it close to her chin as she lay snug in her bed, slave to the deep sleep overcoming her. [ FIN ]

[xxsanshinexx]

A textbook and you

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader

Words: 3576

Genre: Highschool au

Synopsis: You didn’t have a biology textbook and needed one, thankfully Yang Jeongin was kind enough to share one for the semester.

~

You had no idea how you ended up sharing a biology textbook with Yang Jeongin, but yet here you were; scribbling down the functions and structures of cells before you had to give him back the book for his test. The two of you had different class periods, you having biology late in the day and him right after lunch. It helped make the little system you created function a little easier; however, it still didn’t make the situation any less odder. Juggling the textbooks back and forth between the two of you, one of you getting to steal it for one half of the day and the other getting it for the rest. 

You knew how all of it came to be. You were too lazy to get up on time to get your textbooks from the school and by the time you had gone to retrieve them; it came out that the school hadn’t ordered enough. Now while you were wholly content to try and pass your class without the textbook, you knew Mr. Park only assigned out of the textbook. Jeongin just happened to be in line in front of you during the whole situation and being the kind boy that he is, insisted that you took the book and he would get the work from one of his friends who already took the class.

The only problem about his noble offer was that you couldn’t accept it and that the pair of you were extremely stubborn. This is how you came to the conclusion that you would share the textbook. This is also how you came to sit in the library, furiously scribbling in your notebook as Jeongin tried to review his sticky notes.  

“I don’t think pressing harder on the paper is gonna make you remember the content anymore than regular studying would,” Jeongin chuckled without glancing up from his yellow notes. This was common, the two of huddled over a single textbook; you clamouring to understand the information while Jeongin sat nice and pretty and calm reviewing everything you should’ve had memorized. 

“Jeongin,” You huffed, scribbling down the function of enzymes that roamed the esophagus, “Please shut up.”

You could feel him lean against you shoulder and you sucked on your teeth at the proximity. It was common knowledge that Jeongin was good looking, with a great personality and a sweet smile to match. It was also common knowledge to anyone who looked close enough that you had a crush on the young sunshine since the two of you met in middle school. Thankfully, no one had looked at either of you two close yet. 

He leaned his head against your shoulder and you stared intently at the scientific words that made no sense, trying to distract yourself from the way his breathy laugh sounded so perfect. “You spelled enzyme wrong.”

It was moments like this though that made you regret your taste in men.

“God let me study in peace Jeongin!” You shouted, earning a distasteful shush from the librarian that put an embarrassed blush on your features. “Mr. Park hates me, I have to know all of this even if it’s spelled wrong.”

“Don’t feel special he hates everyone.” Jeongin laughed as he rearranged his notecards to be in alphabetical order. “And enzyme’s has an e at the end.”

“God dammit Jeongin.” You grumbled as you began to add in the e to the word, knowing he wouldn’t stop mocking you about it till it was fixed. “Doesn’t matter if I spelled it write or not the tests are multiple choice.”

“Beomgyu told me this one is written. Might want to learn to spell,” He said and you groaned, slamming your face against the textbook just as the bell rang. It meant your time with Jeongin, and most importantly the textbook, was over. 

“Goodbye to my grades.” You sighed and you felt Jeongin pat you back in an attempt to reassure you. 

“You’ll do fine Y/n, you always do.” You looked up only to be greeted by his mesmerising smile, and you couldn’t help but feel like his words were truthful. “Now, can I have the textbook? I need it for class.”

A pout settled on your lips, “Only if you write down all the test answers for me when you give it back during passing.”

“Sure, whatever you say Y/n,” He swiftly pulled the book out from under your arms and cast you a wink before stumbling off to his classroom; leaving you a mix of emotions in the deserted library. The feeling of lovesickness and dread were not a good combo for anyone, especially not you with your weak heart and closed emotions. Another sigh left your lips as you made your way out of the room, trying to remain optimistic about the rest of your day. 

The last period of the day seemed to come a lot faster than you could memorize what chemosynthesis was. You had spent the majority of you history class reviewing the scribbly notes you had taken during lunch time, mentally cursing yourself for misspelling nearly every word; though you would never give Jeongin the satisfaction of knowing that. 

“I am going to fail~” You sang as you met Jeongin in your normal meeting place, the hallway that was the middle ground between your final classes.

Jeongin just shook his head and smiled, holding out the book for you to take in your arms. “It’s not that hard Y/n.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I’m a genius.”

“I’m not a genius,” He laughed, running his hand through his hair suddenly seeming anxious. “Anyways, I have something to ask you which you kinda have to say yes to?”

You raised an eyebrow at his odd remark and demeanor, “Then why are you even asking me?”

“Fair point,” He nodded and ran his hand up to clutch onto his backpack strap, “Well I uh signed us up to be partners for this biology project Mr. Park is gonna assign at the end of class. We have to make a model of a cell- i think i picked plant- and uh I figured you’d be okay with it. I mean- we already spend so much time together over this class i just uh… guessed you’d be cool if we just paired up for it. I’ll have to see you after school anyways to get back the textbook.”

His proposal had you with a nervous smile on your face, having never expected such a statement. Usually when Jeongin asked you something, it was to buy him food or to slide him the answers for the math exam that he had next period. You didn’t really think he would ever want to partner with you, for anything other than this stupid textbook deal. 

“Yeah,” You squeaked out, Jeongin barely able to catch your words. “That-That sounds good… we can work on it at my house if you want?”

“Today? I can do today after school- if that’s okay of course-” the warning bell rang in the midst of Jeongin’s words and you both looked at each other with wide eyes. 

“I can do today,” You said quickly, watching as Jeongin nodded and began to speedily backpedal in the direction of his classroom. 

“Sounds good!” He called through the sea of late students who were beginning to swarm the hallway, “Text me- oh and good luck!”

His words made you smile as you shook your head, beginning to squirm through the hallway’s traffic to your dreaded last class. At least now you had something to look forward to at the end of the day. And the sticky note that read nearly all the answers are A with a smiley face only added to your sudden happy mood. 

The test was just as difficult as you had expected, but Jeongin’s words of wisdom had you feeling better about your outcome. It made the decisions on answers easier to make and you remember to spell enzyme correctly when faced with written answers. Your optimistic mood only grew as you reached the porch of your house, textbook in hand and a nervous smile on your face. 

“Grandma i’m home!” You called as you walked in, dropping off your things in their respective places as you made your way towards your room.

“How was school love?” You grandma’s soft voice fluttered out from her room and you peaked your head in to find her bent over book. 

“It was good, Grandma.” You said and that nervous smile came back onto your face as you remembered who would be here in less than an hour, “And uh Grandma, I have a friend coming over today so please? Try not to scare them of to quickly?”

It was then she finally looked up from her book, eyes withered with age alighting with interest. “You don’t ask that when just any of your friends come around. Why is this one special? Oh! Is it that Jeongin boy you keep gushing about- you know i’ve still yet to meet him and all you do is talk about-”

You sighed in distress, realizing that you should never tell your grandmother anything, and nodded your head. “Please don’t say anything! He’s only coming over for a project! A project, grandma! Nothing else! Nothing! No weird talk and certainly don’t repeat anything I have said about him to you-”

“Not even how you think his eyes hold the whole galaxy-”

“Anything!” You could hear her mischievous laughter as you continued down the hall to your room, the panic beginning to fill you. Yang Jeongin was coming over soon, your room was incredibly messy, your Grandma was planning something and you had less than thirty minutes to make you and your house presentable. The panicked shriek you let out was loud enough for your grandmother to laugh at as you began your frantic attempt to clean up. 

A soft knocking half an hour later brought you out of your cleaning daze. You had managed to get all the clothes off the floor, the books back on your shelf and your bed made, as well as changing out of your uniform, when the noises rang out through the house. 

“Y/n! Your boyfriend is here!” You grandmother helpfully called as you sprinted down the hall. 

“Grandma! This goes against what we talked about!” You called back as you frantically tried to smooth out your shirt and force the redness away from your face before you opened the door. When you opened the door you were faced with a different Jeongin than you were used to. Instead of the pristine yellow uniform that usually adorned both of you, he was in black track pants, a black fitted T-shirt and his hair was pushed back underneath a beanie. To say your face got redder at the look was an understatement. “Hey Jeongin.”

“H-Hi Y/n.” He smiled as he stepped into your home, slipping off his shoes and sliding his backpack off of his shoulder. “Nice house.”

“Uh thanks,” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly as you began to take slow steps in the direction of your room. “We can work on the project in my room if that's cool- or we could do it out here! Just uh my grandmother’s home so I don’t know if you want-”

“I’m good with anything, I just don’t want to intrude.” He chuckled as he followed you down the hallway. You were quick to notice your grandmother's door was wide open and mentally groaned, knowing that perhaps you should have just left it a mystery about who was coming over. Thankfully, she didn’t make an appearance as you snuck into your bedroom leaving the door open only a fraction so she wouldn’t get suspicious. 

Jeongin stood in the center of your room taking in all the pictures and colors that adorned it, before turning back to you with a small smile. “Is it just you and your grandmother or?”

“My mom and dad are away a lot,” You shrugged, gesturing to the room for him to sit wherever while you grabbed supplies. “I live here cause it's easier and better school district.”

“So how do you want to do this?” Jeongin questioned, as you laid on a notebook on the bed and took a seat next to him watching as he laid back against the headboard. 

“I barely even know what you signed us up to do,” You shook your head with a smile as you flipped your notebook to a blank page. 

“Then why did you say yes so easily?” The teasing tone was evident in his voice but it still made you fight blush rising to your cheeks. Jeongin chuckled at your lack of response and dug around in his backpack, pulling out a ruffled piece of paper. “We’re making a plant cell model. It’s gotta have everything, cell walls, chloroplast, nucleus-”

“Has to be green.” You added helpfully as you jotted down all the requirements onto your paper, earning a laugh from Jeongin.

“Yes,” he chuckled, setting the paper next to you. “Most importantly, it has to be green.”

“We could do it red if we’re feeling creative,” You said, doodling away as you tried to think of a good model for this project. 

“I was honestly feeling pink. Maybe even a blood orange-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” You laughed, sliding the paper over for him to be able to add in his own ideas. “We can make something blood orange on the model if you really want-”

“You know maybe a champagne pink would look better instead?” You couldn’t help your laughter at his words, “Okay, what about amethyst? A fuschia if you will?” You slapped him on the shoulder, trying to get him to stop as giggles flowed out from your lungs, “Fine, we'll go with cerise.”

“Just do some work,” You smiled up at him, quick to notice the stars that danced in his eyes making him seem all the more lively. You weren’t lying when you told your grandmother that fact. 

Jeongin still filled the time of your peaceful working with color jokes, plant jokes and many things that were able to get you to snicker despite your determined mood. The air surrounding you two was light and easygoing, letting you both chatter about nothing as you sketched out cerise nuclei and periwinkle ribosomes; Jeongin cutting away and organizing as you did so. It was nice, even if words weren’t as prominent as you thought they would be; because they weren’t needed as you cut, colored and organized in silence. 

“I don’t think we’re going to finish all of this today,” You huffed, stretching your fingers that had begun to ache from their constant sketching. 

Jeongin nodded as he held up a handful of mitochondria, letting them fall from his hands in a flutter. “We’ll just have to meet up again to finish all of this.”

You blushed against your will but still managed to scoff, “You want to see me that badly?”

Jeongin gapped at your response and would have nearly embarrassed himself with a response if it wasn’t for your grandmother barging into the room at that very moment. The look she gave you upon seeing Jeongin had your ears turning red and a panic coursing through your veins. 

“Well, hello there,” She smiled sweetly to which Jeongin responded with his own smile, but you knew she was only here to embarass you. “You must be the Jeongin Y/n talks so much about!”

And there it was. You internally screamed as Jeongin’s smile grew a little lopsided and his eyebrow raised in interest. “Oh? Y/n talks about me?”

“You and your pretty dimples and voice. Your jokes and laugh make the conversation a lot too.” She grinned and threw you a wink, which you barely made out through your embarrassment. “I came in just to check in on you two, and meet you very good looking friend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” Jeongin said, through rather tightly as you watched his features dance with too many emotions. Oh God, he had definitely put together you grandmother words and hints. 

“Grandma, can you please leave?” You said with a forced smile, watching as she grinned but nodded; slyness glinting in her eyes. 

“Just yell if you need me, I’ll be knitting in the living room.” Again, she winked with the words you’re welcome lingering on her lips as she shut the door; leaving the once content room in an air of awkwardness. 

The silence passing between you two was thick. Jeonin didn’t so much as look up as he went back to busying his hands with cutting out shapes. You couldn’t blame him, you tried to avoid all eye contact as you furiously scribbled away at what was supposed to be Chloroplasts. You couldn’t believe she had just walked in here and done that; telling him you thought his dimples were cute! She even told him you thought his voice was nice! Why would she do that!? You mentally screamed, feeling like your once positive day had been entirely ruined by the elderly meddling in it; enough so that angry tears began to swarm in your eyes. 

“Did… do you really think my dimples are cute?” Jeongin muttered after several moments of silence, jolting your body back into being rigid with nerves. 

“I uh…” You trailed off, not picking up your gaze from your sloppy drawings, “I…. I might have mentioned it once.”

“And my voice?”

You sighed before speaking, curling up against the headboard facing your head away from his, not having the courage to even look at him. You didn’t want to see the rejection. “I might’ve.”

“Was that the only things you complimented about me? Or was there something else you wanted to say besides my dimples and voice?” His voice was soft, still holding that teasing undertone, as he reached over and gently placed his hand over yours. There were those stupid jolts that festered under your skin; the ones that were there when he smiled at you or did something relatively kind. You didn’t understand why he was trying to coax more compliments out of you at the moment. 

“I’m sorry for my grandmother, I really am. I didn’t know she was gonna say all that stuff and make a mess of the whole day. I know it’s super awkward now I totally get it if you want to just leave- God I kinda want to and this is my own house- but uh just don’t think any differently of me or just please don’t-” You were cut off by the back of your hand being met with feather soft lips. 

“You really think I’m going to shun you for something like this…. Especially when… when I feel the same to you.” His voice was quiet, lower than a whisper, but it was enough for you too snap your head around and meet his star filled eyes. You had never seen them look so sincere, or vulnerable. It was silent as you both stared at each other, not even your breaths made a noise as you stayed frozen, watching how Jeongin still held your hand tightly in his and how his breath fanned against your skin. “Please tell me I didn’t read this entire situation wrong and made a fool out of myself.”

“You didn’t.” You breathed out, forcing yourself to hold onto his hand a little tighter despite your shock. “I just…. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Trust me, neither was I.” His dimple appeared as he laughed, the nervousness from the previous moments flowing out of him. “I never thought a grandmother’s meddling would make me confess of all things. I figured it would’ve been Seungmin’s annoyance.”

“It’s not what I pictured either.” You chuckled, looking back up to the eyes that you loved to stare at, the moments prior finally hitting you. Those eyes liked you back. 

Jeongin tugged gently on your hand, the smile on his face never seeming to go away, “I-I don't think you want to spend our first day together working on a school project, do you?”

“Together?” The words leaving your lips lit up your body with an undescribed feeling. You? Together with Yang Jeongin? It was unbelievable. 

“Yeah… together.” He laughed quietly, playing with your fingers that were still wrapped around his own.

A smile finally rested upon your lips as you felt him fiddle with your index, running a light finger over your knuckle. “You never officially asked me out.”

He shook his head and looked up at you, pure elation written on his features. “Would you, Y/n, L/n, please be mine? Please?”

“Will you give me the answers to the next bio test?” You laughed, gripping his hand tightly in your own, loving the way it felt to finally hold his hand. 

“Already planning on it, love.” The grin on his face at the words show you how truthful he was, and your red face told him you loved the new nickname. He pulled your hand back up to his lips, pressing another one of his feather soft kisses against your skin before whispering against it, “Now how about some ice cream to celebrate?”

Maybe, after all, your grandmother knew what she was doing with the two of you.

[ofhelens]

HELEN WORTHINGTON: AUDITIONING FOR THE ROLE OF LADY MACBETH

oh boy. okay, so without rambling too much..........originally, i wasn’t going to have helen audition for anyone. why would she? with the possible exception of lady macduff, macbeth is full of characters who are totally unlike helen & anyone she’s played up-to-date. plus, the subject of the play is just a little too on the nose for her - and given her self denial at the moment, that isn’t a can of worms she’s looking to open. however, as i was writing this, it became clearer and clearer to me that helen playing lady macbeth would go really well alongside her general trajectory in the roleplay (downhill, like a damn roller coaster) and i could definitely see the “out damn spot” monologue playing well alongside some juicy orson reveal stuff :) also poetically...seeing “the ingenue” go from basically being the embodiment of an angel to playing one of shakespeare’s darkest heroines is...chefs kiss.

 it’s strange to say that my character surprised me...(because im writing them?!) but yeah...helen surprised me!! she’s absolutely terrified by the idea of playing someone who is a little darker, a little stranger - but that’s exactly why she should do it!! i also genuinely think it’ll help her grow as an actor, which is something i really want to see happen. helen is pretty mediocre - but she doesn’t have to be!!! the only way we can grow as individuals is by challenging ourselves - something i’m keen to see heidi make happen.

having said that, i am not ride-or-die for lady macbeth and do not expect her to be cast as her at all!! if orson was casting, helen would be lady macduff without a question (we stan a self aware queen!) - and now that she’s made that point explicit to heidi, i feel like the latter will be way more inclined to cast her as anyone-but-that. if not lady macbeth, i could definitely see her playing one of the witches. essentially, i just need helen to play someone with a little more meat, someone who is darker; meaning that as she tries to nail their characterisation, she’s forced to confront some ugly things about herself and almost deal with the darkness in a therapeutic way.

“Helen Worthington.” She had expected stepping out onto the stage to feel more poetic. There was supposed to be sorrow in finality, grief in endings. And this was it. This was the final time she would audition for a play as an Alderidge student - perhaps her final audition all together. Whilst her peers clamoured for the limelight, she would have been perfectly comfortable making this her swan song. A moment passed. “I’ll be auditioning with Cleopatra, Act 5, Scene 2.” She could still hear Zahra’s words of encouragement in the back of her mind, quelling any doubts.

A brief look of surprise crossed Heidi’s face, she glanced down at her paper, as if trying to match the person she saw before her with words on a page. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Alright...am I to assume you’ll be auditioning for Lady MacBeth then?”

It took a moment for Helen’s mind to make the connection. She shook her head firmly. “No - no...no. I could never play Lady MacBeth...she’s...” Too monstrous. Too big a part. Too much like everything I never want to be. Settling on diplomacy, Helen sighed. “I could never do her justice.” 

This seemed to interest Heidi. “Why not? Looking at your previous roles - “ She shuffled the papers in her hand “- you seem to have done a standout job with Celia. Lady MacBeth isn’t such a jump. Lines wise, at least.”

Helen shook her head, adamant that Heidi see what she did. “Playing Celia isn’t hard. She’s soft. Dreamy. And a character in a comedy.” 

Heidi frowned. “So it’s Shakespeare’s tragedies you’re opposed to? Or being challenged?”

She was so unlike Orson that Helen had to blink twice, just to be sure her senses weren’t tricking her. “No. I don’t like tragedies. Everyone dies. I love theatre because it’s an escape - because it’s a chance to live out someone else’s stories. But why would I want to live like...like Lady MacBeth? She’s a terrible person. She’s a monster. I’d hate to even feel an inch of who she is.” Because what if I’m good at it? What if it’s easy to become her? What does that say about me? About what I’ve done? 

“And being challenged?” A dog with a bone, Heidi continued to tug at the remaining loose thread. “Is it a fear of letting people down? Are you afraid that you’re not talented enough?”

Back against the wall, Helen was forced to confront some uncomfortable truths. The purest of which was this: she never had been challenged. Any malevolent thoughts were packed in dusty boxes at the back of her mind, never to be opened. She was practically adored by her peers. Orson had never dragged her out of her comfort zone. She had no idea what being challenged was like. All she knew was that she didn’t want it. “I don’t know.” She conceded, sighing. “I’ve only ever played Celias.”

“And you want things to stay that way?”

Helen closed her eyes. Her mind was awash with a thousand memories - hanging out with Chandler in between As You Like It auditions, kissing Jonah backstage, laughing with Harry, cooking with Julian...she didn’t want things to ever change. That was why she poisoned Orson, wasn’t it? So that they could stay in a glorious summer, where no one ever got hurt. “Yes. Why fix what isn’t broken?”

Heidi shot her a thoughtful glance and opened her mouth as if she was about to ask another question, before shutting it abruptly. “Alright Helen -” She said slowly, nodding. “The stage is yours.” 

Now nervous about her audition piece, about what it said about her and about whether she’d be able to deliver; Helen closed her eyes. She had never been to Egypt, never even left the country - but conjured the sensation of balmy evenings, a heart full of love and a crown weighing you down. “Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me - “ Perhaps she and Cleopatra weren’t so different. She understood what it was to long for immortality of another kind. You could have even said she was desire itself. It was those parts of Cleopatra Helen chose to emphasise. 

Pretending to shuffle on a robe, Helen stared out into the audience. Cleopatra saw a kingdom.

“now no more the juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself to praise my noble act; I hear him mock the luck of Caesar, which the gods give men to excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: now to that name my courage prove my title!” The love between Antony and Cleopatra, Helen had decided, was ugly. It was brutal. It should not be celebrated. But she also thought she understood it - the sensation of being bound to someone, of loving them so intensely you would do unspeakable, regrettable, things in their name. If someone dared lay a finger on Antony, would Cleopatra burn them to the ground? Helen was sure she would. As she came to understand Shakespeare’s heroine, she began to lose herself in Cleopatra’s skin in a way she never had before.

Opposite her, but unseen by Helen, Heidi sat up a little straighter. 

“I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.” Her kiss brings death. It was a terrifying kind of beautiful. Against her better judgement, Helen’s mind began to wonder...to remember. A wine glass. A toast. Poison. A deceitful smile concealing burning hatred. Who was she to judge Shakespeare’s characters...when she had wrought such destruction...

Lips trembling, Helen paused - momentarily unable to continue with her performance. See, this was why she hated Shakespeare’s dark and decrepit creatures. They drew something carnal out of her...they overwhelmed her, threatening to seize her voice and take it as their own. To be on stage was to be exposed...and this was one reflection she refused to peer into.

Why did Zahra encourage her to use this piece? Did she know something? Or did she just want to see her falter?

Ten seconds later, she regained her composure. Her break did not go unnoticed by Heidi.

Kneeling on the floor, Helen took Iras’ imaginary body into her arms, cradling him as he took his last breaths. Childish and impulsive she may be, but Cleopatra had heart. She wasn’t wholly wicked. Maybe in her performance, Helen could find her a kind of redemption; a thousand years too late.

“Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, the stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world. It is not worth leave-taking.” Was Cleopatra brave to watch Iras take his last breaths? Was she a coward for letting Orson die alone? Panic’s familiar sensation threatened to take a hold of her. Breath quickening, her last sentence was slightly slurred as she raced towards the end, to the moment she could be done with Cleopatra, toss her aside and never wear her face again. 

Her story was not Cleopatra’s. She and Jonah were not Antony and Cleopatra. She was just a role. It was all make believe. 

“See -” Helen began, gentle, but sad. “There’s a reason I don’t get cast as the Lady MacBeth’s of the world.” 

Wearing an expression equal parts confusion and sympathy, Heidi returned her smile. “It’s not your fault you’ve never had an opportunity to dig deeper with your characters. Now that isn’t to say that his comedic characters don’t have depth - but it’s like the other side of a coin. If you want to excel as an actor, it’s important you learn how to play both kinds. Life can’t always be sunshine and rainbows.”

Why not? Knowing better than to vocalise her disagreement, Helen swallowed her words. Idealism never...carried well with people. They thought she was a child, head in the clouds, living in a world of fantasy. Had she been a crueller person, she would have asked them why they were so adamant to continue living in a world of grey. So instead, she nodded politely. “Thank you for letting me audition.”

"Thank you for coming in Helen. And props for choosing something we wouldn’t expect.” Glancing down at her sheet, she tapped her nails against the paper. “You still haven’t told me who you’re auditioning for.”

Her first instinct was to steadfastly refuse to audition for any of them - and let the chips fall where they may. Or even to ask to be moved down a year, to the third year’s comedy. “Orson would probably cast me as Lady MacDuff.” It was the only character she ever could have volunteered herself for. Domestic bliss, it was something she embodied easily.

“Well - “ Heidi said, inclining her head, “I’m not Orson.”

No, Helen thought, you’re not. May that be a blessing, and not my curse.

“Would you toss your hat into the ring for Lady MacBeth?”

No, Helen thought. Not a chance in hell. But then, betrayed by her mouth, she nodded. “I’d consider it.”

As she exited the stage, Helen couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she’d gotten herself into.

[21stcenturyhope]

BTS Imagine // Royalty!AU with Taehyung

Kim Taehyung

summary: your husband felt trapped in a loveless marriage but you would give up all your worldly possessions to change his mind

genre: slight angst, fluff ending

length: 2k words

other members:  Jin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Jungkook

It was no secret how your husband really felt about you.

The only child of a prominent nobleman, your parents had secured you a marriage to the youngest of three princes. You had known from the start that this was no love match but you had hoped that you and your husband would grow to love each other as your parents had done.

But your husband, Kim Taehyung, seemed to hate you with every fibre in his body.

At first, you believed Taehyung felt trapped by your arrangement and that he was resentful towards you for taking away his freedom. But as he continued to show his distaste, his behaviour clearly demonstrated that his detest for you ran deeper than you could ever imagine.

Taehyung was never one to hide his thoughts and feelings. You knew he believed you were vain, spoiled and uncultured. You were hurt that he thought so little of you without giving you a chance to get to know each other.

But what hurt most were the nights he came to your chambers, clearly intoxicated.

On those nights, he whispered such beautiful words into your ears as his hands softly caressed your body. You knew his words held no sincerity but you were desperate to feel some form of affection from the man who you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. So, you continued to let him into your bed, falling for his deceitful touch and hoping that maybe this time he would finally change his mind about you.

It was only when you woke up the next morning to an empty bed yet again that you allowed the tears to fall.

~

“You need to start treating your Y/N better, Taehyung.”

Taehyung was currently playing a game of chess with Namjoon in his private study. The two had settled into a peaceful silence when Namjoon suddenly spoke up. Taehyung was shocked at his older brother’s outburst.

“Our parents didn’t raise you this way. And I can see that this is starting to weigh heavily on Seokjin’s mind. He has enough stress with ruling the kingdom, Taehyung. Will you really add your own personal problems to hyung’s plate?”

“It’s exactly because of how our parents raised us that I behave this way, hyung! I can’t help myself. Every time I see Y/N’s face, I become so livid. Y/N was spoiled as a child and her vanity seems to be unending.”

“What makes you think that, Taehyung? Because you and I seem to know two very different Y/Ns.”

“I know she’s constantly asking Seokjin hyung to increase her monthly allowance. Do you know what she spends it on? Every time she returns from the market, she’s spent nearly all of her money. She buys so many clothes yet I only see her wearing the same few dresses. She buys so many hand-crafted instruments yet I have never heard her play one song. I thought that maybe she was well-educated with all the books she purchases but I have never seen her with a book in hand. She spends too frivolously.”

Namjoon let out a bitter laugh at Taehyung’s revelations.

“Do you have such little faith in our older brother, Taehyung? Do you think he would be so reckless to continue increasing Y/N’s allowance if she really were such a frivolous spender? You know as well as I do that Seokjin hyung takes his responsibility towards the kingdom very seriously.

Let me leave you with one last piece of advice, Taehyung. Speak to your wife and ask her where she really spends her money. Do it before you lose Y/N.”  

Reaching over the chessboard, Namjoon moved his Queen to knock over Taehyung’s King.

“Checkmate.”

~

You nervously clenched the fabric of your dress underneath the table as you dined with your brother-in-law and his wife.

You had met Seokjin shortly after he had become king after the untimely death of his parents. Your father was a very trusted advisor to the late king and Seokjin had come to seek your hand for his youngest brother. Unlike their youngest brother, you got along splendidly with your brothers-in-law and you had come to love them like family.

Seokjin had been especially excited to finally have a little sister and he tended to overindulge you. You often had radical ideas which you were surprised to find out he fully supported, both morally and financially. The two of you grew close and you knew that you could ask him for anything.

Tonight, you had asked to dine with him and your sister-in-law, Hye Na, privately.

“Your Majesty?”

“Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you? We can drop the formalities when there’s no one around. Just call me oppa.”

“Oppa… do you remember the promise you made me a year ago?”

“What promise?” Hye Na was confused but judging by the way Seokjin stiffened, he remembered exactly what promise you were speaking of.

“Last year… last year, you promised me that things between Taehyung and I would change. And that if they didn’t, you would finally grant me an annulment.”

“And tell me, Y/N, where would you go if I did grant you an annulment? Do you think everyone would be so accepting of your situation? That your life would be so easy?”

You could tell by his tone of voice that Seokjin was getting angry but you didn’t take it personally or let it deter you.

“My father left behind a small property in the countryside for me. It will be nice to have a change of pace.”

“I promised your father before he passed away that I would take care of you, Y/N!”

Hye Na grabbed Seokjin’s hand in hers, trying to soothe his anger as his voice cracked.

“Oppa, please don’t worry for me any longer. You have a whole kingdom to take care of. I can take care of myself.”  

“Y/N, can you try giving Taehyung a little more time? You know he’s stubborn but I really do think he’ll start coming around.” Hye Na spoke up as her husband tried to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know how much time I have left to give him…” you trailed off.

“Just until the end of the year. And if he still hasn’t changed by then, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to get my equally as stubborn husband to grant you the annulment.”

“Really?” You looked over at Seokjin, doubtful he would agree to such terms. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh and reached over to pat your hand comfortingly.

“I just want you to be happy, Y/N, even if it means you need to leave. I’ll agree to these terms. Just don’t be in such a rush to leave oppa behind, okay?”

~

The truth was, Taehyung was drawn to you from the moment he met you. But the timing was terrible and his judgement was clouded by grief after the death of his parents. He wanted nothing to do with you, only wanting to wallow in his own misery.

Pained and afraid to open up his heart again, it was easy for him to assume the worst of you. It was at his lowest points when he was completely drunk that he allowed his true feelings to surface. He craved your touch and your attention which seemed to fill the void inside him that his grief had left behind.

He knew that Namjoon’s words were reasonable; he had always been the wisest brother of the three. And so, Taehyung finally squashed his pride and approached you.

“May I accompany you to the market today?”

You were speechless, to say the least. Not once in your entire marriage had Taehyung ever shown interest in spending time with you outside of your chambers, completely sober. You could only nod and allow him to escort you to the awaiting carriage.

You tried not to let your husband’s presence affect your routine. You made the usual stops at the stores you frequented. Stopping first at the tailor’s, you picked up a chest of clothing that you had ordered ahead of time. Your next stop was the bookstore where your packages were already waiting, neatly wrapped up. Stopping at the bakery, you also picked up several dozen sweet treats.

The whole time, Taehyung wordlessly followed you from store to store, only speaking to greet the shop owners and citizens passing by.

“Your Highness?” It felt too uncomfortable to address your husband so intimately by name in broad daylight. “Should I have the carriage escort you back to the palace first? I have one last place to visit before I return.”

“No, I’ll come with you.”

You informed the coachman to continue on to your last destination. When the carriage finally stopped, Taehyung was astounded to see that you had arrived at the orphanage. You had already exited the carriage yourself, too excited to wait for the coachman to give you a helping hand. Hoards of children ran out the front door to greet you excitedly, almost as if they had been waiting for your arrival.

“Your Highness! You’re here!”

“I’m so happy to see you again, Princess Y/N!”

The children all clamoured towards you, their giggles echoing through the front yard as they eagerly waited to be on the receiving end of your hugs. They were clearly on very familiar terms with you.

“Settle down, settle down!” You laughed, a bright smile lighting up your entire face. “Or else I can’t give you your presents!”

You gestured for the driver to bring out all the packages you had picked up earlier in the day as the children lined up obediently. You began to hand out the gifts according to what each child has asked for the last time you had visited.

“A new dress for Ye Seo’s doll… let’s see, a new calligraphy book for our studious Soobin…”

As you turned around to reach behind you for the next gift, you felt a small tug at your hand.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Your Highness,” the cute little girl pointed towards the carriage. “Who’s that?”

You had completely forgotten that Taehyung had accompanied you today. Hearing the child’s question, Taehyung came next to you in a few quick strides. Bending down so that he was eye-level with her, Taehyung answered her question.

“I’m her Prince Charming,” he winked.

All the children oohed and giggled at his remark causing your face to flush completely red.

“Alright,” Taehyung called out while grabbing the box of desserts from behind you. “Who would like some cake?”

He was instantly smothered by a hoard of children.

~

After a well-spent afternoon playing with the children, you and Taehyung were finally on your way back to the palace. No words had been exchanged so far as you and your husband silently sat side by side. Without a warning, Taehyung reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips.

“Y/N, words cannot describe how painfully sorry I am to you for misunderstanding you this whole time. I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You’ve shown me today what a caring and beautiful individual you are. I cannot believe how blind I was to have never seen this before.”

Tears filled your eyes and disbelief flooded your thoughts. Was this really happening? Was this really the moment you had been dreaming of all those lonely nights? It seemed like your husband was finally ready to open his heart and give your marriage a chance.

“Will you give me a chance to be a better husband, Y/N?”

Finally letting go of all self-restrain, you eagerly nodded before flinging your arms around Taehyung’s neck and pulling him in for a long-awaited kiss.

~

A year later, you and Taehyung announced that you were expecting your first child.

Seokjin and Namjoon silently exchanged smirks. The eldest was grateful for the well-timed lecture that finally brought Taehyung to his senses and keeping you in the family.

[musingsofawritertatheart]

Unresolved questions...

2nd November, is observed as All Souls Day across the World. It is also known as the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed and the Day of the Dead, it’s a day of prayer and remembrance for the departed souls. On this day, people visit their departed family members gravesite to pray for their souls.

             It has been a yearly ritual, which we have been following since i was kid...to make a visit to cemetery to pray for my grandparents souls. 

            As a kid, i used to think of cemeteries as a place that offers lots of green space and trees. Now, i look it as a place which provides a great backdrop for quiet reflection, peace of mind and closure.

            After spending some time at our departed family member’s grave site. one of us will always be cleaning the stone and pulling the weeds around the cement border, putting departed person’s fav flower on the grave and lighting up candles and spend time praying for that departed soul . Every visit fills me with mixed feelings as many thoughts cross my mind...

             When I see people coming to cemetery on All Souls Day, laying flowers on their loved one’s gravesite...I tend to look at people’s faces. When we loose a loved one, the pain we experience can be unbearable and we sometimes wonder if the pain will ever end. Understandably, grief is complicated and we go through a variety of emotional experiences such as anger, confusion, and sadness.

              When the word “Cemetery” comes up, people generally exchange sheepish looks as it unsettles them. But for me, it is a place that gives a closure to people who are grieving.

              2020 will be remembered as a lost year for most of us. Historians will use it as a reference point. While some of us are suffering the loss of income, livelihood and the simple expected meeting of life’s most basic needs

              More tragically, others will remember this year as the year of losses – much greater losses than a cancelled vacation, a missed graduation or the inability to dine out freely.

               Others are grieving the deaths of family members and close friends – compounded by the inability to gather and remember in comforting ways. Personally, this has been a year of loss for me as well...I lost two of my favourite people this year. One beautiful soul left me in February and other soul left our family in July. My brother from another mother, the love of my life – my Pet, Joey passed away in February and my favourite uncle, I’m extremely fond of...slept in the lord, in the month of July. The fact that I saw him gasping for breath right in front of my eyes was extremely painful to say the least....

               Nothing can ever heal the pain, you feel when your loved ones leave you. At that moment it might look like you will be consumed by this pain and you may not be able to heal from this pain. Loosing a loved one leaves a painful scar on your psyche and try as much as you want ...one can never recover from that pain ...that void will never be filled with anything or anyone...it’s the memories of the loved one that haunts you.

               This void left by the passing of my near and dear ones made me realise one thing though, it’s not the big things but the little things we tend to miss about your loved ones. It could be as simple as getting a morning message from that person or that customary call on your birthday or that small word of encouragement when you are feeling down from that favourite person that you tend to miss. It can also be as simple as being woken up by your loving pet and that wet nose on your pillow and that warm greeting you get when you come home. Somehow your birthdays and other special occasions look less special because of that void left by our loved ones...

              When you experience such tragic losses in quick succession ...pain is inevitable and the will to live is slowly beaten out of your system. Suddenly, HOPE is not that evident anymore. At times like these, it is difficult to pull yourself from this pain that threatens to consume you. During these times, its important to take one day at a time and keep moving ...no matter how hard it may be.... even when breathing looks like a chore and getting up from bed seems like an uphill task...you still pick yourself up and keep going...that’s life I guess. 

               I was totally numb when my uncle passed away in July...it was like the final nail in the coffin...where do u go from here? I was just drifting through life for more than a week ....and then I saw this huge rainbow right next to my balcony and I just knew this was the sign from God or beyond...to move on with my life and that’s when I got back to life ...one step at a time.

              A theory suggested by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross suggests that we go through 5 distinct stages of grief after the loss of a loved one: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance.

DENIAL...When I see families with so much pain in their eyes... could it be that they are still in Denial about their loss.... all though they know what has happened. Sometimes, it takes time to grieve and heal and that quite resignation on their faces conveys a million things....and silently I wish them strength so they can accept this harsh truth and say a prayer for that family....

ANGER....When I see families with a hardened expression on their faces ...could it be that they are still angry towards their loved ones who left them to face this harsh world with added responsibilities. And they have this pent up angst towards god and the world for snatching up their loved one? It can be daunting to live life like this and silently I wish them strength so they can let go of this anger and have peace...

BARGAINING...When I see families that are inconsolable and wailing like small kids ...could it be that they are still not able to accept it and wish it wasn’t true and still have a hope that they might wake up one day and wish this was some kind of a nightmare they are going through? my heart goes out to them and the only thing I can do? Say a small prayer for that grieving family....

DEPRESSION...When I see families with an indifference in their attitude and keep looking at their loved ones gravesite...could it be that they are going through depression? During this phase its hard to look beyond this painful incident and hope looks like a distant word. Not knowing when they will ever recover from this loss of their loved one. It might look like they will be consumed by this pain and never recover ...I wish them strength so they can look beyond this painful time...

ACCEPTANCE...When I see families putting on flowers and lighting up candles with a faint smile on their faces and peace ...I know they have accepted this truth and they have come out of that dark tunnel of grieving and only remember good moments and memories with their loved one...

                  It’s not necessary that everyone will go through these 5 grieving stages. At times, it might look like you may have healed and in the next moment, mere mention of your loved one or some memory pulls you into grief once again. Grieving is never linear. It’s important to give vent to your grief- cry it out, write it out, sing it out, walk it out and talk it out. Give in to the weight of it. Be taken by this storm and let it wash over you. It’s important not to let anyone rush you through this grieving process and unless and until you are healed completely you cannot move on in life. Once you accept the inevitable only then Peace will prevail.

                 As I walk down that old pathway, I could see gravestones of every size and shape mark the landscape in every direction. Off in the distance, I could hear the distant roar of traffic; within the confines of the cemetery, all was quiet, save for the birds and insects. For whether one believes in an afterlife or not, spending time at a burial ground inevitably stirs thoughts of our own mortality -- what life means, whether we are living the life we are meant to be living, and what comes next.

             The invisible presence of the departed creates a kind of vortex of deep tranquillity, silencing the ten thousand insignificant things clamouring for our attention.

             That's the thing about cemeteries: rich or poor, powerful or powerless, known or unknown, all our lives come down in the end to a resting place in the earth. If we are at all sensitive, this kind of proximity to death has an instant centering effect. Like a good meditation practice, visiting a cemetery focuses our attention on what really matters; helping us to discriminate between what is true and lasting from what is transient, and of little importance.

              When you look at life through this prism, the way you lead your life is different. You don’t hold onto petty things like greed, hatred and grudges. If you don’t like someone, just walkway from that person and if you like someone, you speak your mind. I would rather live my life with an “oops” than a “what if” hanging onto my conscience. I guess life is too small to hold onto fears and worries.

              Cemetery visits can bring up a mess of emotions. It takes a few days to “reset” after a visit to the cemetery.

Sometimes, I wonder what constitutes a good life???

         Q) When you are surrounded by your near and dear ones during your last moments on this Earth and leave with a smile on your face...is this considered as a well-lived life?

         Q) When you leave this earth a bit better by creating or leaving a piece of art – be it your songs, your book, your music, your paintings ...can this life be considered as a well-lived life?

         Q) When you raise a good family with kids, inculcating good values and leaving behind a loving family...is this considered as a well-lived life?

          Q) When you have a positive impact on the people you come in contact with on a daily basis and spreading goodwill and positivity in your family, friends and community... is this considered as a well-lived life?

          May be it’s living a life less selfishly, and not allowing this fear of uncertainty to drive us away from gratitude, faith, compassion and hopefulness- are markings of a well-lived life?

As i ponder through these questions, i’m reminded of Rainer Maria Rilke’s quote that I came across some years back...

        “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and           try to love the questions themselves...do not now seek           the answers, which cannot be given to you because you           would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live           everything. Live the questions now”

              I just want to send these questions into this cosmic void...may be life will give me answers, when I least expect them... Perhaps someday there will be some method to this madness we call life or may be not???

Leaving the cemetery, I thanked the dead for returning to me the gift of life.

[atrophiedcompassion]

having watched TROS for the second (and final) time in the cinema, here’s my full spoiler abundant review, also with comments on the nonalogy as a whole.

the movie works a lot better aka is more enjoyable the second time. we know what’s happening and i could relax and enjoy even the dumb moments and allow myself to feel, to be washed into the music and just feel my good feelings towards the finale.

the plot is still dumb as rocks, with the new old villain, resurrected. who not only is back but is giving our heroes a chance to find him before all shit breaks loose. why is the emperor so fucking arrogant?? why did TROS/JJ keep arguably the worst plot from TLL namely the race against a certain but exact time to do something to save the day?

the rey as palpatine still makes no sense. why did the jedi (in particular obi wan) call to her when she has the first force vision back on takodana if rey’s a palp?? JJ truly pisses on his very own movie isn’t he? and the emperor himself, he wants rey dead, twice he tells this verbatim to KR and then comments the rey killing plot was foiled to commander pryde...but then he actually welcomes her with open arms? or did he foresee his new death by rey should she reach exogol still alive? why should this death stick? ugghghgh.

the movie moves at record pace, no time to grieve, no time to catch your breath. the falcon/poe does impossible feats. the trio is united only to trail rey, finn in particular acting like a puppy. the only scene with finn that had any weight and developed his character was the scene with jannah when they’re fixing the falcon. BUT even then...i thought it was fine for the Force to guide finn out of his servitude. but maybe let the other former stormtroopers have some fuxking free will. not the force guiding them. there were so many moments when finn could’ve inspired former fellow stormtroopers to put down their weapons, but no. the spy could’ve been a stormtrooper, not the ridiculous hux doing things out of spite...

the worst scene in the movie? rey going on a fucking stroll on pasaana to meet kylo ren’s ship...and before that, the knights of ren literally posturing on a rock. i laughed out loud in the cinema it was so utterly ridiculous.

it’s all fucking plains, the fucking audience could see rey advancing through ochi’s ship screens. but somehow chewbacca gets captured and there’s a second transporter. the whole scene plays just so we can set up rey’s sith lightning abilities..?? fucking hell.

c3po’s sacrifice works for me. it’s the first moment of the rewatch where i got truly emotional and shed actual tears. and it’s not really cheapened by his memory being restored, since Finn actually mentions r2 might have a backup which 3po dismisses in his usual fashion. so 3po actually believed he was going to be fully erased. and that’s what matters. i found the 3po humour almost on par with the OT, although sometimes poe’s wayyy too aggressive with him. (i mean, poe loves droids, or at least his droid bb8, but is awfully dismissive of both 3po and D-O, just to fill in the han role i guess? it’s overdone)

the fight on the destroyer/kimiji is ok, again rey with the aggressive stance and the reveal is....nothing. rey has NO fucking reaction. she like scrunches her nose a little. she was just told the JJ equivalent to luke finding out vader’s his dad and rey’s just like. oh okay. bummer.

she should’ve fucking jumped like luke did. and maybe be retrieved on the falcon somehow. she should’ve expressed some pain. but no. rey’s just as calm as before. maybe even calmer, now that she knows the whole truth.

the death star sequence. dumb as hell to imagine the dagger has coordinates to the fucking wreckage of DS2??!??! who made it and when??!?!??! but let’s not overthink this. you get force powered rey making the ride with the skimmer and finding herself attacked by dark!rey..and then kylo come by and apparently knows this? because he tells her that now she’s tainted and can’t go back to leia either??!

WHAT THE FUCKKKK does JJ not know how the fucking force works??? i mean was it a fucking inside joke when han says that’s not how the force works in TFA??? uughghghgh. i know TROS is trying its best to almost completely retcon TLJ, but the way the Force was described there, like a balance, decay from where new life spawns, THAT WAS A GOOD THING FFS!!!!

no, JJ thinks that jedi are all pure beings and sith are dark brooding monsters and if a jedi or equivalent has even the faintest connection to the dark side, they’re fucking done!!!!!! (when the FUCKING OT SAYS THE FUCKING OPPOSITE, even a shred of goodness can help you get back to the light)

and if that was SUPPOSED to be KR’s way of getting rey to join him on his fieldtrip to exogol...my god he’s fucking dumb as hell. rey’s resisted his offer every fucking time (altho during the force call on pasaana he tells her he will turn her and she says we’ll see. she didn’t say no lmao), why would she fucking say yeah sure now? just because she had a fucking vision of dark herself??!?!?

still, dark!rey is fucking hot and i will probably cosplay her sometimes soon.

then comes the kylo - rey fight on the death star wreckage, where she attacks him, she’s aggressive, and is bested. and he’s about to kill her (even though he told her he has other plans, LOL) and then leia calls. or her call to her son finally reaches him (no more voicemail) and he falters, drops the saber and is impaled by rey.......who also senses leia’s passing.

and we have ben again and the scene with han solo plays and it’s pretty fucking emotional. but i wish he had said father and not dad. dad feels unearned. father would’ve worked best, especially for such a serious, stoic char like ben, dad is far too playful. i would’ve wanted a moment more of ben mourning his mother too, but the movie’s gotta be done in 30 mins so we have no time for allowing emotional moments to sink in. note: finn & poe are in such a rush to get to leia they don’t even have time to wait a sec to be told properly that she’s fucking dead. fuck you movie.

the scenes with luke are good. of course, luke backtracks all of his development in TLJ (because fuck you that’s why) and apparently everyone knew she was a palpatine but they still trained her because fuck logic? this is just like the PT where they end up training anakin because they made a promise to a dead guy. lmao. and how convenient is that there’s another lightsaber, otherwise how would rey make an x at the end to (presumably) end palpatine?? hmmm. i said the jedi leia scene/flashback worked for me the first time i saw it, but in hindsight, the scene and motivation really takes a steaming dump on leia’s character, a mother afraid of her son and unwilling to help him. fuck you JJ. we never needed leia wielding a lightsaber. we only wanted leia using the force in some way that felt organic to her character. (sidestep: up until attack of the clones? when yoda first uses a lightsaber, i assumed he was enlightened and didn’t need actual weapons to wield the force. well, i hoped leia could be like that enlightened master yoda. but like all bad things in the SW universe, she ended up being as awful as puppet yoda with a toothpick lightsaber, cause how would we know she’s a jedi otherwise????)

so. because she refused kylo, and ended up alone on exogol and with the resistance trapped there, she’s actually considering palpatine’s offer??! and realises she has maybe another option when she senses ben’s there too??! then why the fuck didn’t they go together??!?! oh wait. i forgot she wanted to exile herself on ach-to LMAO.

and still. the whole palpatine plot train-wreck could’ve still worked had they actually used the pretty cool concept of Force Dyad for something good. i mean, KR tells this to rey on the destroyer. but apparently palp can’t do the math and is surprised when he takes a sip of their life essences??! like what the actual fuck, why isn’t palpatine aware of this?? if he (+plagueis) made vader and then he conceived his son. and then vader had leia and leia had ben and palp’s son had rey........why is KR able to put this together and not the FREAKING MASTER PUPPETEER of the whole fucking galaxy??!?!

anyway. back to the force dyad. we have awsome ben solo and rey reunited. ready to fight palps. but no. he freezes them and sucks the life force out of them. maybe the power of the force dyad of light users could be harmful to a sith?!??! maybe the power of a force dyad would help ben & rey resist palp?! maybe the power of a force dyad could be used to defeat palp?

but no. we get ben solo thrown into a pit so that palp and rey could reenact whitney houston’s hit

or, even worse, the year’s most anticipated battle of one liners: endgame. yeah, it was cool to hear all the jedi clamouring for rey, but this could’ve still worked as the jedi finally supporting ben skywalker organa solo for fucking once in the guy’s lifetime.

but no. JJ said fuck ben solo. he’s only good to give the life back to rey, then he can fuck off. i am not a reylo and i am not too bothered by ben’s death, as much as i am by his misuse. i mean, in such movies, we never really have to deal with reformed bad guys making amends. vader died, and so in a way, ben dying too and not having to be courtmartialled is actually convenient.

i have read some analysis where ben & rey being happy together is the undoing of anakin’s sad demise and brings peace to the skywalker line rather than pain and despair and that’s a valid premise, but realistically, ben’s death makes sense. they’d never be happy together in a hut somewhere, because ben still has to pay for a lot of damage. BUT his death is nothing but the crippling of the skywalker line, after a palp had defeated the palps. his death has little meaning in the story. them being a force dyad has little meaning, apart from powering palps back to his rots appearance. lmao

and finally, the death of ben is never mourned, never acknowledged. no-one is even told on screen about his return to the light (maybe maz felt it, when leia’s body vanished...) and his deeds. that kinda sucks. because luke took a moment to have a ceremony for vader, the force ghosts came through. here...we get nothing.

and then rey buries the anakin saber and leia’s saber on tatooine in sand no less (we need a sketch of anakin loudly complaining to rey about this)... and instead of finally accepting herself as being sufficient, she tacks on the legacy name. well done JJ.

(that was me when the credits rolled).

now, i love the OT more than life itself and the films give us meta to fill libraries. they are not perfect movies, but they are good, they tell a wonderful story with amazing characters and i will never stop loving them.

then the PT is made of really bad movies that now, in the light of TROS, surprisingly still come together as a trilogy far better than the ST lmao.

i still believe that the PT undermines and ruins Vader’s redemption in ROTS, because now you know exactly what he did (reminder: killed 30 children) and it’s hard to swallow. in the end, he dies to save his son and takes down the big bad so we can accept that he gains redemption in luke’s eyes alone and not necessarily in the audience’s. but ben solo didn’t even get that. he got thrown into a pit and crawled out only to give rey life lol.

anyway, TFA was okay at first, but i always had a huge gripe, aka the misuse of Leia and the complete silence on her being a Force user. like don’t even need ligthsaber fights from her, just gimme something explicit of her using the Force. she could’ve at the very fucking least sensed KR when he swoops in and abducts Rey on Takodana. but no. JJ fridged Leia from the get go, because he had no clue what to do with her. and then he fucked her character completely with what he believed was the flashback the fans wanted....UFHGHGHGH

JJ also and truly fridged Luke, because he had no idea what to do with Luke and the whole Force legacy either. he wanted to write a fun Han Solo adventure and by gods he did.

so, Luke. the guy vanishes the opening crawl tells us. he wasn’t abducted, so he must’ve exiled himself. people hating TLJ’s so called character assassination when it comes to Luke should point fingers at the real culprit, JJ. how could Luke do such a thing and run away (like JJ wrote him do) if he hadn’t done something significantly wrong?? it had to be FUCKING HORRIBLE. and so it is. because what Luke did was horrible and it set up for the fall to the dark side of poor, conflicted, manipulated and unloved Ben Solo. but had it not been THIS awful, then Luke’s self imposed exile, shame and guilt wouldn’t have made any fucking sense. so, TLJ haters, think again WHO was the person who wrote Luke running away for 10 years and allowing all that shit to happen?? it wasn’t Rian Johnson, that’s for sure. he merely justified the absence in a way that made sense plot-wise and actually character-wise too.

on repeated viewing, TFA isn’t that good, it’s a rehash of ANH and the stakes are never as good as the original movies. we all kinda know the heroes will save the day

TLJ, i liked, but the canto bight plot really falls flat. this is where RJ did some char assassinations: Poe. Poe is the cocky pilot who singlehandedly destroys the Resistance’s arsenal LMAO. and next scene he turns into sexist macho asshole trope itself, with his immediate and unfounded disdain of Holdo and her plans to keep our heroes safe. so he concocts a harebrained plan that doesn’t work. maybe it was intended as a refreshing look over this trope of barely a plan of the heroes always coming to fruition at the very last second, but the way it’s presented, it somehow really undermines all the characters involved, including newcomer Rose. at the start a breath of fresh air in the age of mindless heroics, the voice of reason,  soon enough she too is pulled apart and becomes a sudden love interest...?? she is then reduced to a side’s side char in TROS, but she has space buns, so that’s cool right? that’s what SW is all about, women in space buns. fuck!

and yet, TLJ handled Luke, Leia, KR and Rey wonderfully and laid down some great ideas, Rey having no lineage, the Force Bond between her and KR, the catalyst for KR’s fall to the dark side, the little good in him, as sensed by both Leia and Rey...and set up a finale where, i believed and hoped, KR would be the main villain.

with the trailer spelling the probable return of palpatine, i kinda lost faith in TROS before it even hit the theaters. in fact, my faith in the movie was shot the moment JJ was brought on board.

we had a new villain, another race against time to save the day, and our heroes tell us again and again that it’s fine to share the burden, that they are not alone, that there are more good guys than bad - and when the ARMY OF PEOPLE came to exogol, it’s a wonderful scene. it works for me and it did both times. i know it’s awful that no-one came to leia’s call on crait, but here lando picks up (when lando says hello there, it’s not only panties that drop) half the galaxy, but somehow it still made me well up.

but, despite this very explicit message, our heroine fights alone. she faces palps alone and almost makes a bad decision, is alone in her final battle, is alone at the end. how truly horrible. instead of having ben and rey defeat palps together, rey has to do it alone, out of faux-feminism. it’s sickening. it’s stupid. and that’s not star wars and the star wars message. luke was not alone at the end, he was with friends, with family.

but she’s from a bad bloodline and she should die childless. ughhh. totally not hopeful, totally not satisfying message to have for the finale of the skywalker saga.