#i even remembered when it aired and saw some clips of it and was like “damn one piece go crazy huh” and it was etched into my mind

[maskedchip]

when she's wiling to turn into a devil to protect and fight for her friends 😍🥰🤩💗💖💗🌸🌺🌷🤩🥰🥰🌸🥰🌸🌺🌷🌸💖💗

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it. 

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack. 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s. 

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun. 

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best. 

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening. 

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him. 

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either. 

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins. 

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no. 

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

[cheesecakethots]

Maybe your intuition was right about this job.

You were broke, only a few days away from having to live on the streets, streets where dangerous men lurked waiting for an opportunity to snap up young women like you.

You remember shivering at the thought, and so when you saw a job opportunity at some nearby hotel, you thought you were saved. It paid pretty well considering you were only coming in to be a cleaner, but you were quick to realise why.

Gangs and mafia had wormed their way into the very foundations of your city. You were hired to clean and keep your mouth shut if you saw anything. Up until now, you hadn’t seen anything, thank god.

Despite your guilty conscience, you continued working, making a habit of bringing in headphones just so you could block everything out.

You regret every decision you’ve made that has led up to this moment.

You’re practically plastered against the wall, eyes wide and body trembling. The headphones you usually wear are still blasting some pop song, but it’s practically white noise compared to the sounds of crying, screaming and groaning.

It’s a bloodbath. Quite literally too. You can feel pools of it soaking into your cheap shoes, which doesn’t help the sickness in your stomach.

The man, if you can even call him that, still hasn’t noticed you. You won’t be surprised if he turns around and reveals himself to be some bear-man mutant thing. He’s fucking massive, despite the fact that he’s currently sat down, boredly snapping bones. You’re extremely lucky he hadn’t heard your mop drop to the floor after you walked into the carnage.

Fucking move! Move! Move!

You don’t. You stand still like an idiot.

“Are you going to say anything, little lady?”

Now you just might throw up.

He turns his head to the side and watches you with one eye, a grin on his lips. He chuckles a little, before standing.

By fucking god he’s huge. Your knees become wobbly within an instant.

“Hm. I don’t think you should be here, girlie.”

“I-I work here,” you stammer out.

He raises an eyebrow, turning to face you a little more, the grin on his lips widening.

“Is that so?”

He stands to his feet, casually crushing the head of some poor man under his boot. Your eyes divert to the ceiling, struggling to find a spot that isn’t covered in splatters of blood.

“I gotta admit, you don’t look the type to be working here.”

There’s a spot. It’s grimy, and there’s a dull light that looks like it has dead bugs in it.

“I-I need the money, and it’s only- it’s only cleaning.”

Another wry laugh, “Cleaning, huh? Tell me, do you think you can clean all this?”

The light flickers a little. Someone should check that out, but not you, you’d be hopeless with it.

“Maybe for a raise,” you mumble.

He laughs again. That’s good right? He must think you’re funny. Or maybe he thinks the thought of splattering your intestines across the wall is funny.

The spot on the ceiling becomes all the harder to focus on when he’s right in front of you, tall enough to reach your line of sight despite the fact you’re basically looking straight up.

There’s a bit of blood in the toothy smirk he wears, a fact that makes your stomach sink even lower. “You not gonna run?”

You don’t even realise you’re crying until you hear your own pathetic sniffles, “Wha-What would be the p-point?”

He pouts mockingly, the amusement in his eyes clear as day, and you flinch harshly at the sight of his massive hand raising towards you, a sharp breath of air entering your lips and your headphones clattering to the floor.

The hand slowly pats your head, and the heaviness of it reminds you of the fact he could so easily crush your skull. You can feel the blood from him dripping into your hair.

“You’re cute, you know that? In a bit of a pathetic way.”

How lovely of him. You’re not really sure if you should say thanks.

You gulp, and it scratches at your dry throat painfully. “I-I won’t te-tell any-“

“Ya got a boyfriend? Maybe even a girlfriend?”

Only spluttered and clipped words leave you, and so you settle for shaking your head.

The hand on your head crawls down your face, akin to a spider, before eventually settling on cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, I figured. I mean, no offence. If I had a pretty thing like you I wouldn’t let you work in a place like this,” he motions to the hellhole behind him, before glancing back down at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Hell, I doubt I would even let you out of the house. You’re too cute for your own good.”

God. Why didn’t you just tell your coworker to find someone else to cover? Why, why, why?

A rough thumb wipes under your eyes, creating a thin layer of blood, sweat and tears on your skin.

“Awe, no need to cry,” he coos, and you yelp when his other hand encircles around your waist, tugging you against him.

“I’ll take care of ya.”

[herejusttosufferalong]

I think L gave us a lot of hints/messages about what might be going on post-premiere in that Jimmy F appearance. Let’s note that this was after Papgate, after his and N’s social media posts in the fallout period, and after Milan if I am remember correctly? The more I think about it the more I think his team crafted the content we saw to reset his public image, explain some things, and encourage the audience to give him some grace. It was damage control/positive PR/but also some explanations for what we are seeing.

First off, he came off relaxed and confident, a big contrast from how stressed he looked when he had been papped. I think they were also trying to portray him as a friendly and relatable regular guy who had suddenly been thrust into fame as a heartthrob and romantic lead.

Him running from the carriage scene music/talking about how he is not used to the level of fame and exposure and recognition that has come with the success of the show (barber story, needing security in Brazil).

The reference to JB passing down the guide that was called “How to fall in love in front of 82 million people” - more messaging that it is difficult to have that level of scrutiny and specifically when playing a romantic lead when you have insane chemistry with your costar.

The romantic lines, read B-ton style (these are so L/N coded and reference things L or N have brought up in interviews, with the exception of “East Peasy Lemon Squeezy.) We’ve got:

Espresso lyrics - song with significance to the ship, also what L was listening to getting ready for the London premiere, Honeybee, come get that pollen lyrics

“Penelope, we were on a break!” -this is the biggest hint right here of why L was papped/appears in a relationship with another woman after we have seen his and N’s chemistry jump off the screen for 6 months and also in the show itself. THEY (N/L) WERE ON A BREAK. I don’t think he wanted to be on a break, but they were, and I think they’re now on another one while he tries to get his affairs in order. And note that he says “Penelope,” not Rachel, which would be the accurate pop culture quote. Which doesn’t really make sense because he and P are never on a break during the show unless you count the time she stops writing to him and he goes off the rails. Penelope is code for N. Also he is referencing the R/R relationship/timing issues again.

Then the Barbie quote. I think this somewhat addresses him being attached to a strong beautiful powerful woman (LWD or N, take your pick) and that dynamic of potentially being overshadowed and having to find your own self worth in order to handle it . I don’t think that last part about being her Ken was scripted (JF even gives him a wtf look and then it gets cut when it airs), but he made it clear he is happy being her Ken. He basically claims his ass as hers on National TV without meaning to.

I think the interview didn’t have purposeful mention of N for a reason, he was trying to emphasize his role as a B-bro and an actor and romantic lead in his own right, and connect him to the other male leads, and the clip they chose showed that.

He then follows up with a social media post confirming a late night/non-work/non PR beach walk with N and said security guards. I mean… that was a date, and for him to post that in the face of everyone saying he had hard-launched A and he and N were “all PR” is crazy. They also have to be aware of all of the Brazil reports and speculation.

I think the messaging was: This is level of fame and exposure is new, he’s figuring it out, give him a break. Also, everything is okay between N&L so don’t worry, there may be reasons for why what we are seeing doesn’t make sense but they are figuring it out between them.

Would the general audience pick up on all of that? No, but the hardcore fans would so they layered it all in there. Maybe his PR team isn’t that dumb afterall?

I know there’s speculation N was there- I don’t know if she was but her immediate like definitely showed support and that they are still a team. Wouldn’t surprise me if she had a hand in some of that strategy.

I think this is the first in depth analysis I have ever seen on the JF appearance that I mostly agree with.

Thanks for sharing 💜🥃

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Prologue

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader Summary: You ran.

It's what you did in life. It's all you knew how to do. You ran, ran, and kept running and never stopped, because if you stopped, it meant you were trapped, chained, a bird with shredded wings in a gilded cage.

So, how did you end up here, tucked away into a little village in rural Japan, falling into the depths of two black holes with no way to escape?

How could you run from this? From them?

…Would you? CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: this is just the prologue chapter, sort of exposition. No bois in this one (technically), but I'm posting chapter 1 at the same time as the prologue. As a heads up, my most comfortable place for posting my longer fics like this is ao3. You can find more of my blurb thoughts on there. I'm not the best at tumblr posting, so forgive me pls ;-;

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 9.4k

You’ve always likened yourself to a kite, but less pretty and enjoyable.

Every time you glanced at a kite in the children’s toy section, or watched as thousands flew in the sky during festivals, your eyes stung and something bitter and uncomfortable twisted in your gut. In a way, you saw yourself in them; fragile little creatures tethered to the earth by no fault of their own. So easy to snap – to break.

They were always trapped, chained down, forever bound to either get reined back in after one had their fill of fun, or to fall like tragic angels to the ground when the winds died, and they would once again be unable to travel free amongst the stars where they belonged. All thanks to the threads wrapped around their very bones, far too strong for something that looked so thin and prone to fraying.

Yet nobody ever did release the chains. Who would willingly free their prized, imprisoned bird?

Of those pretty, unfortunate kites, you lamented with them. 

You, too, were pinioned to solid ground. Your wings were clipped, feathers torn from flesh one by one until you were born in a body that could no longer fly. Responsibilities, duties, relationships – they all kept you drowning in a suffocating pile of down-stuffed pillows, filled with plumes that were once yours. They progressively got heavier and heavier, locking your limbs between illusions of comfort and safety, sitting on your chest and flooding your mouth until you choked and gagged and couldn’t breathe.

You were different from kites, sure, beyond the very obvious things. You weren’t a pitifully flimsy, inanimate toy, left forgotten in some closet, awaiting the one day you’d be remembered, taken out, and allowed to taste the breath of deities themselves again. But if you could glide in the wind like they could, oh, nothing would bring you more joy, more solace, even if you were still tied down. All for just a kiss of freedom.

You ached to be detached from everything and everyone. An untethered kite, a fledgling bird learning to fly, a paper lantern that glowed its very joy from within for all to see.

Paper lanterns.

You couldn’t stand paper lanterns, because you yearned so deeply to be one. How wonderful it would be to have a warmth alight inside you as you rose to the heavens, lighter than air. 

You envied them. 

They made you nauseous with longing.

They made you want to stretch your fingers high and try to catch one within your palm like a cascading star.

They made you want to reach your fist past your throat and rip out your heart barehanded, just to make the accursed thing stop pounding so goddamned hard in your stomach as it sank lower and lower with each additional candle that got to join their family of stars beyond celestia. 

Because, for fuck’s sake, you belonged up there, too. Free, flaring, blazing and flickering so spectacularly that philosophers would wax poetic about you for ages to come.

It wasn’t fucking fair for you to be stuck on Mother Nature’s spine like this, burdened by the neutron star in your body that just grew more and more dense, urging you to dive into the ocean and let it snare you into its depths. You didn’t choose to spawn with a spirit disconnected from the flesh that acted as its prison, you didn’t choose to be jailed like this.

So, why?

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you were drawn to kites. You pitied them. You pitied yourself.

You weren’t a kite. You didn’t want to be one, to have your boundless form fettered down. But when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, that’s all you could ever see staring back at you. A kite with faded, worn out paints that barely clung to the tattered paper, feebly held together by thin strips of bamboo that had been aged and mottled from the inside out by time.

You hated paper lanterns. You hated kites. You hated yourself.

As the years dragged on, from the moment your brain snapped into your body with the sudden realization that you were a conscious, living, breathing person, those ugly feelings festered and spread like a fungus that refused to abate even a trace, just a second so you could catch a breath of fresh air that didn’t reek of mildew.

The seconds spanned on for eons without prejudice, destroying your cells at the molecular level with each passing birthday that trudged reluctantly along.

In the back of your mind, the sensation of being asphyxiated by your own feathers that had been shorn away from you etched itself deeper and deeper into your psyche. You became restless, antsy, the variegated world around you fading rapidly. Colors you once saw as a child, before you could latch the inherent sense of wrongness in your chest to a concept, gradually dulled until all you were left with was a world tinged heavily in gray.

The streets you were raised on grew denser, despite the amount of people living on them never actually changing noticeably. The verdant grass of your backyard turned into a dominating presence everytime you laid your eyes on it, unruly and all-consuming, demanding an undivided attention you did not want to give. The orange beams that hung over black asphalt instilled a sense of panic in you that wasn’t there before. 

You used to be fond of walking around your neighborhood in the middle of the night, when you rightfully should have been sleeping. An inverted circadian rhythm suited you well when you were young, unaware that the crushing sensation under your sternum would only get worse. 

Now, though, the thought of straying out where there wasn’t enough light to see straight ahead made sweat form on your chest and palms while your teeth clattered from a nonexistent chill.

Everything caved in on you. Not in a rush, not in a cataclysmic flood. No, you didn’t discern you were fighting for air until you were already gasping fruitlessly. Lost, terrified, unsure, you could only bear witness to the collapse of your own mind.

Then, one day, a soft voice whispered in your ear.

Run.

It wasn’t a threat, not some ominous warning of death looming over your shoulder. It was a suggestion, an offering, an olive branch towards that freedom you coveted. It was salvation. 

Who were you to ignore the hand of deliverance?

The first time you changed your scenery, moved elsewhere, even if it was only a few streets away from your childhood home, felt incredibly liberating. After so long that you had forgotten how it felt, you got the chance to gulp down air as if you had surfaced from beneath the perdition sea after spending your whole existence beneath it. 

Color returned to your world, excitement formed anew, everything felt right. Achromatic wastelands turned into kaleidoscopic meadows, fulgent and lucid. You savored it, reveled in it, frolicked and danced and lived.

…It didn’t last. 

Not long. You exhaled, and it all vanished, sand swept away by an uncaring and spiteful hand.

Once you had become used to the environment, when you no longer had to actively remember where your flat was, or how long it took to get to the store, everything was washed out; water dumped on a painting that had yet to form defined shapes.

That crushing sensation had returned, and with it the reminder that, as much as you wished you weren’t, you were a kite. Tethered, perpetually confined, worn bamboo strips and thin paper threatening to rend under the drag.

Thus, you ran again. A new town, a new city, a new skyline. Euphoria nestled cozily under your breast like a second heart, purring contentedly as it curled up on the nest of blankets it created for itself.

New places, new faces, new people. All of it was fascinating to you beyond measure. It interested you to no end to learn about other human beings; their thoughts, their perspectives, their preferences. What they despised with grit teeth and barely restrained anger clenched in trembling fists; what they loved so dearly that they could never drown beneath the same waves that followed your heels, tide rising progressively. 

They glowed from within, bright and budding and vibrant. Their eyes flickered with life, glazed so clearly that stars sparkled in the depths of their hues. You were drawn to them, a moth to mesmerizing fire.

You felt free. You rode that high as much as you could, for as long as it would allow.

Until a realization struck you with the force of a bullet train one night. A man hung onto your arm, easy laughter shared between the two of you as you let him take you home. Alcohol tinged his breath, but not enough to give him anything more than a slight buzz. He was a total gentleman through and through, and you listened with eagerness as he spoke about his upcoming work project, his excitement palpable with every word. 

His hand linked with yours, fingers intertwined, his warm palm engulfing yours. There was a comfort in that transient window of time, one you held to your heart. It was so unfamiliar, so addictive. And as you stopped before your door, having completely forgotten of your lack of wings, you waited with bated breath for him to slant into you.

A pair of infirm lips, minutely chapped and tasting of wine, pressed against yours, and dread exploded in your gut.

He pulled away from you, lovestruck in the way his eyes shone as he looked into your own, and reality crashed down on you with horrors in three measures, shattering like broken glass in the vortex of your conscious thought.

When you stared at him, watched the way he opened his mouth to speak, you made the connection.

“I really like you,” he had murmured to you that night, nearly shy. Yearning. Hoping.

Paper lantern.

“I want to ask you out properly.”

Tether. 

His words sank into your skin like ice, digging deep, burrowing into your marrow.

Kite.

The illusion of pellucid skies of the richest shades cracked, the lush plains you fantasized of often turned to barren heaths, and all those tormenting feelings came back to choke your breath with a vengeance. Sickly fingers wrapped around your throat, sunk into your mouth, dug past your gag reflex, wrapped around your ankles and wrists until you could barely lift your feet just to move forward. 

You remembered with great disdain what you were. You had managed to sever your thread by running off from the pod you were born in, but it wasn’t a clean cut. The string hung off your fragile wooden bones loosely, just waiting for somebody to grab and yank, to shred your freedom away from you once again, to leave you knotted around a pole to sit like decoration and stay.

You were not free.

You were not a paper lantern. You did not gleam from your soul like he did. You did not pour light from your heart and words and touch.

You’d do anything to forget that, to prove that sentiment wrong, to show the world that you weren’t a rock thrown into a pond. You’d do anything to change the narrative, to force a rewrite. So, you did what you always did.

You ran.

You found somewhere else to live, blipping off the radar unannounced. One moment you were there, the next you had cut your lingering thread an inch shorter, following the wind blindly like a duckling to your next destination.

Each time you settled down somewhere, you had this silent hope: maybe this is where I’ll be happy.

You clung to that hope, fervently ignoring the screeching whisper in your ear that said otherwise. The next place was never the final one. It never would be, no matter how hard you tried to delude yourself into believing you weren’t a lost soul, unable to move on. Some pathetic ghost you’d make, if you weren’t one already.

Whenever you let yourself rest for a heartbeat too long, the rope you had trimmed ever shorter was skimmed too close by too-warm fingertips, and you fled again, and again, and again.

That’s all you seemed to know nowadays.

Perhaps proven now, as you sat on a train in a foreign country, absentmindedly watching rural landscapes race past the window. Your knuckles pressed indents into your cheek, the sensation unpleasant and nearing on painful, though you had stopped paying any mind to it a while ago. Your thoughts laid scattered at your feet, and you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up.

Rather, the white matter of your brain was being filled with the empty, buzzing tune of songs you’d heard a hundred times over playing through your earbuds at the loudest volume possible. It made things easier to manage during this grand, several-thousand-mile-long trip. The less thinking you had to do, the better. It was the absolute last thing on your bucket list, loitering just under the cutoff line, hoping to sneak in a few words you refused to listen to.

You couldn’t let yourself regret this. You wouldn’t.

Not now, not after you’d already dropped everything and dissipated beyond the welkin’s gaze. You had only one place you could go to at all now, and you were already on your way there.

So if you had to blast your eardrums out to bridle the whisper-shouting voices spurned by overthinking, so be it.

Rice paddies blurred by, blending in from one farm to the next. The sun reflected off the waters the stalks soaked in, absorbing the warmth the light provided and feeding the plants with the fruit of life. Somewhere along the way, you had begun counting each field you passed for no particular reason.

You thought it’d lull you to sleep like counting sheep, subconsciously desiring to sink into a dreamless abyss and catch up on the hours that had been eluding you every night for months up to this point, given how far away you still were from your destination. But your cerebrum was not kind to you, and your body refused to succumb to the tempting allure of nothingness.

Thus, you remained as you were, counting paddies as the day never quite moved forward. The sun dwelled high, trying to glare down on you, but it couldn’t get the angle right to invade the shade of your tiny cabin room on the train.

It stayed stuck to the center of the sky, mighty and proud. But then, after what seemed like only a few seconds, you blinked, and suddenly it was hanging off the horizon’s ledge.

With a slight jolt, you realized the train had decreased in speed, and was continuing to lose momentum as it approached an isolated station, all alone in the countryside. You checked the time on your phone, your eyes feeling unusually heavy and sticky. It was only early night, but you were worn down to your sinew.

Right. Jet lag. You had hopped on a plane and traveled to the other side of the planet on a whim, another desperate attempt to grab onto the concept of freedom you craved. It didn’t take you longer than a week to find a small house deep in the pastoral lands of Japan, where mountains wrapped around the valley like a scarf. You chose Japan, if only because you learned the language when you were studying abroad some years ago.

It resided in a town of such a low population, blissfully around 600, it was a wonder you could even find a train that took you this far to begin with. Of course, that meant the house was decently rundown, with a community small enough to consider it unnecessary to repair. You couldn’t care less. All that meant to you was that it was cheaper to buy it outright than rent a more maintained structure. Buying it was a risky move, given your track record of up and ditching the last bed you slept on without any hindrance, but, at this point, you were tired.

You just wanted to be somewhere for longer than a month or two. Maybe owning a house was contrary to your desires to be unbound, with no board to pin your tattered and thin wings to, sure, the pros far outweighed the cons.

Cheap shelter, little to no people, far, far away from anywhere you’d been before. Three for three.

It’d still be a 45 minute drive or so before you actually got to your new residence, but you weren’t in any particular rush. You chose the most isolated place on purpose. Less people, less deafening sounds, less claustrophobic, brutalist structures that loomed higher and higher.

Less chance of being tied down.

With a hiss and a loggy wheeze, the train settled into place, jostling you as you got to your feet and stretched your arms above your head. The muscles in your back and shoulders twinged from sitting in the same position all day, and your legs stung like sparklers, but it was nice to work your joints properly again. After tucking away your phone and earbuds, you tugged your luggage down from the overhead rack with a grunt.

You were hopeful that there’d be taxis outside the station, and that you wouldn’t have to walk to the village. Who knows how long that would take. You’d probably keel over after the first mile. The thought made you snort while you squeezed down the aisle, suitcase with your bag stacked on it rolling behind you, purse strapped across your torso. The conductor – a sweet, older man – nodded silently to you as you disembarked, waving a farewell to you, which you returned. He was nice, you remembered him greeting you when you first boarded. 

He didn’t talk much, just a polite, “welcome aboard,” while the ticket collector pointed you in the direction of your cabin, which you greatly appreciated after hopping off a plane and hurrying your ass over to your required station. You were too spent for conversation.

Leaving the station was much easier than you expected. Unlike your home country, where you could get lost just by turning 45° to the left, Japan seemed to prefer neater environments that were easy to navigate. And, upon stepping out of the building, you rejoiced at spotting a few variously colored cabs waiting along the curb. Outside of one stood a man, roughly in his 50s or so, who waved you over.

“Need help getting somewhere, miss?” He questioned, and you nodded as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your emails to find the one confirming your purchase of the listing. 

“Yeah, could you take me here?”

He glanced down at your screen when you showed him the address and chuckled quietly. “Well, that’s a surprise. Last time I visited that house was some twenty years ago to take the owner to the station, rather than from.”

You blanched nominally. Twenty years? Had your house really been abandoned for twenty years? The listing claimed it was only ten max, that estate bastard. A sigh left through your nose. Too late to deal with that now, you figured. “I just purchased it.”

The man nodded as he popped open the trunk and assisted you in slotting your luggage inside. “You look like you’ve come from far away. It’s rare for foreigners to choose to live in such a distant location. Not a fan of the city?”

I fucking hate cities.

“Something like that, yeah,” you assented, thanking him as he opened the back door for you. 

You appreciated his efficiency as he wasted no time dilly-dallying around. As soon as he was buckled up in the car, he was on the road, taking you down the last leg of your trip. The world outside the window streaked by in shades of violet and blood orange as the sun hovered on the edge of the skyline, reluctant to rest for the night.

“Ah, apologies. I’m Hayato Kazuhiko, you may call me Kazu, if you prefer,” he quickly introduced himself, and you followed suit. “Why’d you choose this little village of all places? It’s very small.”

You hummed. “That’s exactly why I chose it. I’m not a big…people-person, if you know what I mean.”

The older gentleman chuckled lightly. “My wife is the same,” he nodded as he peeked at you via the rearview mirror. “She had to visit the small town I used to live in one day, and it was love at first sight for us. She was immediately drawn to country life, and we’ve lived out in the neighboring town here ever since.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-five years,” he nodded, and you could see the pure love and devotion in his eyes as he spoke about his spouse. It was wholesome, and softened your heart a sliver. 

He was surprisingly relaxing to listen to. Pleasant voice that didn’t grate on your ears, a few stories shared about his wife, the occasional tale about some significant structure or location. It was calming, in an odd way. He’d point out a shrine or hiking trail you’d pass by, and offer to take you to them one day to teach you its history and meaning, and you actually considered it.

It could’ve been the harmless nature about him. Even as night descended and you could only really see his silhouette, inspecting him reminded you of your father, but…better, for lack of an accurate word. You weren’t afraid that he’d suddenly raise his voice, or take you down a suspicious road – or, hell, back to the train station to send your sorry ass right back to where you came from.

“Mr.–” you cut yourself off and cleared your throat, mildly embarrassed about slipping back into your mother tongue. Japanese honorifics were something you continued to struggle with. “Hayato-san, do you have children?”

He gave a mellow laugh and shook his head slightly. “Please, just Kazu is fine. And I do, three of them, in fact. A younger son, and twin girls about your age,” he estimated roughly.

So the fatherly air to him you picked up on wasn’t imagined. That brought you a form of reassurance you couldn’t distinctly name.

“My twin girls are all the way up in Tokyo,” he continued, chest puffed with pride, “and my son is still in highschool, causing chaos.”

“Chaos?” You raised a brow.

“Yes, but not the type you’d think,” he hummed. “He’s a gentle child, but his kind nature means he’s unfortunately quite gullible and gets himself into trouble.”

A voice, the faint echo of a memory long lost, intoned in the far reaches of your lucidity; someone shaming you for getting caught up in an issue that wasn’t even your fault. Your stomach twisted with dread, and your head snapped to peer at Hayato, expecting to find disappointment shining in his eyes when you studied them through the rear-view mirror.

Except, there wasn’t any.

Concern at most, a crease in his brow as he warred within himself between protecting and helping his kin, or letting the kid learn on his own. There wasn’t any disappointment, or anger, or exasperation. You could see him reminiscing as he stopped talking, focusing more on the twists that followed the mountain’s curve, and all you saw was just…love, and happiness.

The churning in your gut settled, instead replaced with a sense of hollowness. Not the kind that made you sick; rather, it was like you had a gap in your chest where a puzzle piece was missing, while his was filled with a perfectly fitted heart.

Bittersweet, possibly, but only distantly so. You felt happy for someone who was borderline a complete stranger to you, someone you shouldn’t even care about beyond tipping him well for driving you to the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, but you did anyway. 

Maybe I could have had that too, your thoughts mutedly supplied, if I was normal.

Then again, you didn’t want that, not really. Though you couldn’t tell if that was just who you were as a person, or a result of the coals perpetually under your feet, it didn’t change your mind.

Nothing could.

You were sure of it.

Smooth concrete eventually became a densely packed dirt road when Kazu turned off the main path, the car vibrating as the wheels rolled over loose stones and gravel. It didn’t last long, thankfully, as the shabby looking pile of wood came into view, albeit dark since the stars overhead were too dim to illuminate anything much.

“Where we are, miss,” he spoke as you both climbed out of the vehicle and met at the trunk. He opened it to retrieve your luggage, and you pulled your wallet out of your purse and counted off a few bills, wondering what the right amount to give to him would be.

It was hard to translate currency worth when things were valued differently in this country. Your trip abroad was a long time ago.

“Is this enough?” You peered up at him and held out the bills.

He took one glance at them and chuckled deeply. “That’s far too much, really,” he replied as he pulled only two of the strips out of the small stack you were holding. “Be careful with your money while you adjust to the currency of this country. Do you need assistance with your luggage?”

“Oh,” you analyzed the remaining money in your hands before tucking it back into your wallet. You really hoped he took the right amount needed and didn’t undersell himself. “No, I’ll be okay. You got me here in one piece, that’s all I could ask for.”

“Are you sure?”

Your head bobbed as you inspected your suitcase and bag, popping out the handle. “Yes, I am. Drive safe, Kazu-san. Thank you for taking me here.”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Please, it’s my job. You are pleasant company.”

“Likewise,” your lips rounded into a smile as you bowed politely. It was small, and you were tired, but it was genuine, the first one you’ve had for a long while. “Goodnight.”

Kazuhiko waved his hand in farewell, bidding you good dreams as he climbed back into the taxi and drove off, leaving you alone.

Your lungs deflated.

The air here was crisper, stinging your throat in a pleasant way as you inhaled slowly. Faint hints of pine and sap drifted across your senses. Nothing indicated any heavy stenches of smog or gasoline or gods know what litters the streets of every downtown city you’d been to before.

It would probably take you a while to get used to, and you oddly didn’t want to, if only so you could admire the fresh fragrance every time you stepped outside. Your muscles relaxed, surprising you as you hadn’t noticed just how tense you were until you were perched outside the front gate of your brand new (old) lodging.

Turning to face it, you groaned upon the realization that it was on a hill. Said hill was tiny, mind you, but a hill nonetheless. You found you couldn’t give much of a shit right now, just yearning to lay down and pass the fuck out for a while. Maybe the rest of tomorrow, too. A few weeks, actually, if you were allowed to choose. A coma sounded wonderful.

“Home sweet home,” you mumbled to nobody in particular as you pushed open the gate and virtually jumped out of your skin at the near shriek it gave. Okay, it had to have been longer than 20 years, that was loud. 

With your heart fluttering rapidly, you made a note to deal with it (and everything else) later and trudged up the incline, almost eating shit and dying when the toe of your boot caught on the edge of a stepping stone. Another thing to add to the “deal with later” list. You had a feeling it would just keep growing exponentially.

Finding the key was easy, for better and worse. It simply sat in the door knob’s lock, very safe and secure and definitely not putting your house at risk of…what?

There was nothing in there, evident when you pushed open the front door, which wailed just as loudly as the fence gate. You felt the blood drain from your face. Sure, the interior was empty, but the house was a wreck. Peeling walls, strange, crusty scent, and a sticky floor at the entrance that made you grimace when your sole pulled off it like velcro. You knew that it was custom in Japan to take off your shoes at the door, but fuck that. Absolutely not. You were not walking in any part of this house either in socks or barefoot.

Everything was virtually pitch black as you delved further in, so you depended on your other senses, and the ability to smell was one you wished you didn’t have. Your nose wrinkled as various rotting odors welcomed you, making you immediately regret going through all this.

Morning. You’d deal with it all in the morning.

Practically sneaking on your tip-toes, you explored the open space, trying to find the room that smelled the least and was passable to sleep in. Granted, there were really only two actual rooms down a hall going opposite of the kitchen besides the restroom and washroom, but the bigger one seemed decent.

At least you had a sleeping bag and wouldn’t be conking out on the bare floor. You went through the motions of prepping for bed mostly by habit, doing the bare minimum seeing as you didn’t have much of a choice. You brushed your teeth with the water from your tumbler, located and unrolled your sleeping bag, and climbed under the rustling top after yanking your shoes off, zipping it up as far as it went. 

Admittedly, the setup was kinda janky, but it got the job done. 

You couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas.

With your head plopped on probably the least comfortable pillow you had found to bring with you (also the only one that would fit in with the rest of your shit, it was practically a pillowcase filled loosely with sporadically placed lumps of stuffing), you closed your eyes, and your body finally let sleep take over.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Morning was not pleasant. Surrounded by the musty scent of gods-know-what, back aching from the restless sleep you got from your pitiful sleeping bag and the hard floor, you were groggy beyond belief and desperate for fresh air. And a massage. And a cigarette.

You didn’t smoke, finding the heavy and pungent funk nauseating, but the temptation was there. You felt you gained a little more understanding of smokers.

Brushing the thought aside, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and rubbed the heel of your palm against the sore spot on the side of your skull. You would have believed someone replaced your pillow with a rock if you hadn’t intimately known that lump of fluff. Or, rather, lack thereof.

Red lines, tender to the touch and tingling a little, were pressed onto the arm you laid on for most of the time you slept, causing you to hiss when you traced your fingers against them. It seemed to be barely past dawn when you reviewed what was out your window, leaving you questioning just how long you slept, if at all.

Figuring you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyway, you shoved yourself out of ‘bed’ and groaned when every joint in your body popped and every bone creaked. Hell, you weren’t sure you’d be able to sleep tonight again. Not here, anyway. More problems for future you.

She’d certainly be happy about that. She already had so much shit to handle.

The growl of your stomach reminded you that food was something you needed to consume to continue living. 

Reluctant as you were to do anything, you figured going out by starvation was 1) probably not the best idea, and 2) you wanted to be out of this dingy torture shed.

What was unfortunate was that you, like a smart person, didn’t bring anything more than snack bars and those weird trail mixes with the fruit cubes that you just threw into your bag without much care. It was really the only motivation you needed to walk your sorry self out the door. 

After you brushed your teeth and changed your clothes, of course, being very careful to not let anything touch the floor.

Stepping out of your home through the shabby and creaky door with your purse slung across your chest, you were met with the grandiose sight of mountains surrounding you on every side. They rose high, aching to brush the sky and touch a star, just one, just once, just for a second. Covered in thick greenery, you figured the faint yet present scents of cedar, pine, and other woodsy tones were carried down into the valley from the steep inclines.

You couldn’t see any of these details nearly as well when you were dragging your tired ass to this place with ink covering the sky in a thick veil, but it truly was breathtaking.

Had nature always been this green before?

Having only done some cursory research on the village – namely, population – you didn’t bother giving yourself time to actually inspect photos of the tiny rural town. From what you’d seen anyway, pictures could never do it justice. A velvety breeze brushed against your cheek, prompting you to tuck your hair behind your ear and pivot towards the direction the gale came from.

Your breath left you in a silent ‘oh’, mesmerized by the incredible view of the rising sun you had. It shone valiantly and radiantly through the gaps it had carved out between the towering peaks itself, illuminating the land in shades of brilliant gold with its splendor.

For perhaps the first time in your life, you felt…nothing.

Not a sense of hollowness, nor a void in your chest, no.  A peaceful kind of nothing, as if not a thing in the world could take your mind away from this newfound elysium you found in sharing the morning’s shine with its source.

Invisible fingers caressed your jaw, threading through your hair with the gentle touch of adoration, as if you were delicate.

You hated to be treated like you were easily breakable, as fragile as glass, but this sensation was consoling, rather than degrading. The wind cherished you, not akin to a brittle figurine, rather as someone who was beautiful and worthy of gentleness unsullied by pity or licentious intentions. As if you were someone to be worshipped and revered.

A mother combing her fingers through her daughter’s hair, humming a lullaby only she knew the tune of.

Perhaps it wasn’t impossible to find what you were searching for. You didn’t know what it was exactly, a question without an answer, but it gave you a place to start.

With a deep breath swelling behind your ribcage, filling your soul with air untouched by sickly city pollution you were so accustomed to, you turned and began heading down the beaten dirt path that led into the heart of the village. The early summer warmth was pleasant on your skin, not too hot given the time. It seeped into your cold fingers and made them ache a little less with each minute going by.

While the town you had chosen was visually quite a bit older in style, with smaller structures dotted about reflecting traditional Japanese designs, there were some modernities. Electricity was, fortunately, one of them. 

Based on the fact that you found and bought the listing online, you figured there was likely a way for you to get your hands on some Wi-Fi here, too. You’d probably die without it.

The nearer you drew to the center of the population, the denser the structures became. Not to say they were rubbing walls, but neighbors were only a short few steps away, compared to the distance between your own house and the one closest to it.

Minka houses in significantly better condition than yours spanned either side of the road as the terrain shifted from soil to asphalt. They were beautiful, and you bet that living in that kind of house in this kind of place was either absurdly expensive, or dirt cheap, with no real in-between. You were personally on the latter end of this, which probably wasn’t a good thing. 

Doomed by the narrative once again.

Off in the distance on an elevated surface, you could see what you thought was a Wayo Kenchiku temple, if you had to guess. Its overlapping roofs were a deep green in shade, nearly black. They protected the desaturated brown walls of the building, and you were taken aback by how easy the temple was to see from where you were.

It sat across a wide river, one surprisingly calm as you approached it. It rushed along, springing with glimmering waves that shimmered under the light and frothed white around raised boulders. Despite it coming across as fairly deep, you could see clear through to the bottom, with the water itself being a refreshing shade of clear blue. A bridge spanned the rift, made of sturdy wood that had dark railings protecting either side of you, matching the aesthetic of your surroundings.

The bridge whined under your weight, but didn’t shift, giving you some reassurance that you wouldn’t go crashing through the planks. It led into the most packed section of the whole area, with structures built closer together, bearing a more modernized likeness, while retaining its unique characteristics.

In truth, though you remained apprehensive, the voice that scratched at the back of your skull everywhere you went and pestered you to run, run, run, had quieted. You hadn’t registered it, the silence, too focused on taking in your new surroundings as a serene blanket covered the thoughts that usually pranced wild and free in your cranium, putting them to rest with a whispered mercy:

This feels right.

It didn’t take you long to spot what you figured was the local grocery store. The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside, peering at what products you could see on the shelves and aisles from where you stood. Being an anxious little creature, you double-checked to make sure you had your wallet, as well as the translated bills within. Last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in a place where everybody knew everybody.

Reassured, you chose a random aisle and headed down it, skimming the products to see if any of them appeared even vaguely familiar to you. Besides cans of soup and tubes of Pringles, there wasn’t much for you to grab onto. Sure, there was ramen, but you didn’t have a way to boil water. Cereal and milk, maybe?

Shit, no, you didn’t have any cutlery or dinnerware. Unless you wanted to be a sad raccoon and eat raw cereal straight from the box, but you weren’t that desperate.

Yet.

Mentally crossing out your options as you went through them, you nearly knocked over an entire row of items when you almost ran into an older lady who stood in the middle of the strip, watching you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You hopped back a foot, raising your hands in front of you placatingly. “I-I didn’t see you there, am I in your way?”

The woman laughed and shook her head, her smile reminding you of a grandmother that’d sneakily give her grandkids candies while their parents weren’t watching. “You’re quite alright, I was actually wondering if you need help?”

“Oh, uh…” Bashfully scratching the back of your head, you glanced at the various bags of foodstuffs beside you and debated your choices. Say no, when it was painfully obvious how green behind the ears you were, or set down your pride and ask for assistance.

Your stomach chose for you, warning you to suck it up and get food before it began eating itself.

The woman’s chuckle was heartier the second time around, her eyes glimmering with mirth as she motioned for you to follow her. Feeling a bit like a scolded child, you trailed after her while she wove her way around her store towards the produce section at the back. She pulled a random fruit from the thunder-rain-shelf-thing (you honestly had no idea what it was called) and rubbed it against her apron before handing it to you.

“Eat,” she insisted.

You blinked rapidly, peeping the fruit, the sign for it, then her. “How much…?”

The lady waved her free hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Eat, I insist.”

You were going to argue further, but a deep cramp in your gut had you sinking your teeth into the sweet and wonderfully-textured treat. As embarrassing as it was, you borderline moaned as you chewed, quickly taking another bite. Whatever it was, it tasted divine.

This time, when she directed you to move with her, you followed without hesitation. “Thank you so much,” you mumbled as she pulled out a chair from behind the counter and urged for you to sit on it.

“It’s nothing, I can’t let you go hungry, now,” she swept away your worries. “You’re new here,” she stated, rather than asked.

You nodded through another bite, waiting until you swallowed before continuing the conversation. “Yes, I got here last night.”

“Oh? Are you visiting someone?”

“No, I moved here.”

Her brows raised. “Really, now? Who are you staying with?”

Mid-bite, you stopped to address the matter. “Oh, no, I’m not living with anyone. I purchased the house just outside the village.”

The way her eyes widened was nearly comical. “That place? Now, that’s a surprise.”

If you had a nickel.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that now,” your lips tugged into a frown and you stifled it with another chomp into the sweet object in your hand.

At that, she simpered mutedly. “I apologize. I’m merely awed that it was still standing, let alone that someone had bought it. Last I heard, there hasn’t been anyone living there for, oh, maybe 20 years or so.”

The realtor, that dog. He did lie to you after all.

You scornfully hoped he was enjoying spending your money.

Picking at your cheek with your free hand, you looked away with a nervous giggle. “Yeah, it’s…not in great shape. I have a lot of work cut out for me.”

“You’re going to try to repair it?”

“Yeah. Keyword being try.”

“I’m not sure that’s a wise choice.”

You sighed. “Me neither, but I don’t have much of a choice now.”

The woman shook her head, smiling regardless. “You let me know what kind of help you need. There are plenty of handymen in this village of ours, I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you, but…I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” you pouted, hurriedly introducing yourself.

“Just call me Granny. And I won’t take no for an answer, missy,” okay, now you really felt scolded. “I won’t stand for you trying to fix up that cluster of wood by yourself, it’s far too dangerous. And you shouldn’t be staying there while it’s in that condition, either. Give me a moment, let me find someone you can stay with.”

Panic rose up in you and you waved your hands frantically in front of you. “N-No! It’s fine, I’ll– I’ll figure something out, really, don’t worry. Please.”

Granny eyed you suspiciously, her hand hovering over the landline on the wall. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! It’s fine, I’m fine, I promise.”

Her eyes remained squinted, even as she lowered her arm. “Alright, if you say so. But if you need any kind of help, big or small, come to me right away, okay?”

Relieved you wouldn’t have to interact with more strangers, you nodded and deflated. “I will.”

“Promise me, young lady.”

“I promise.”

She grinned brightly and ruffled your hair. “That’s a good girl. Let me pack you a few things to take with you so you have something to eat.”

“Ah– wait, I…I’m not very good with currency yet,” you halted her sheepishly. The prices were still confusing as fuck to you. Man, how the fuck were you going to manage this when you get a job? If?

“Nonsense, it’s on me. I won’t charge you.”

Sorry, what? Did she do that for every person she met five minutes prior?

“But– but that’s not–”

“Finish up your peach,” she asserted as she was already walking away with a bag in her hands that wasn’t there a second ago. What was it with grannies and having some weird, innate magic?

Your eyes darted down at your half-eaten peach, surprised to learn that it wasn’t some foreign fruit you’d never even heard of before, let alone tried. It was an exceptional blend between succulent and rich; easy to bite into and chew without pouring juice all over yourself.

The fuck kind of peaches have you been eating before?

Sensing you might be buying these often if they were this good, you had well-nigh inhaled the rest of it by the time Granny came back with a stuffed bag.

“Here you go, dear,” she held out the shopping bag to you, which you took graciously after tossing out the peach pit into the small trash can by the counter.

Glancing into the bag, your lips shifted downwards. It was filled with a few different fruits and veggies, a couple bags of snacks, but mostly packaged food that looked like it could be eaten as is without needing to worry about cooking it. Your guilt skyrocketed. “Granny, this is too–”

“Don’t worry about paying. Save your money for the repairs of that home of yours.”

Your head shot up, eyes widening. “I can’t–”

“You can because I say so, young lady,” Granny puffed out her chest proudly, using a motherly tone that easily put you in your place, much to your bafflement. You didn’t even listen to your own mother like this. “Come back in the evening, I’ll have something cooked up for you.”

“You really don’t–”

She made brushing motions with her fingers, shooing you off the chair. “Off you go. There’s a lovely little pergola in the park, go have breakfast there. Just turn right when you leave and keep walking straight.”

Flustered, you let her push you along out the door, your confused brain trying to catch up. “Granny–”

“I’ll have a list of handymen for you when you return,” she informed you right as she managed to get you out the door. “Explore the town while there’s still daylight!”

And just like that, she was back in her store, sweeping with a broom that you swear materialized out of nowhere. You stared at the shop for a good minute, blinking dumbly until you processed whatever just happened.

You still weren’t wholly sure. You went in, expecting to grab a bag of something random to ‘feed’ yourself with, and left with a bag full of free food from a woman who spontaneously decided to give it to you. 

The fuck. She’d go bankrupt if she just kept giving strangers sustenance off her own back.

Your own feet seemed to carry you along as you exhaled through your nose and took her instructions to heart. Too late now, you’d feel bad if you went in and returned everything. It’d be insulting at this point, and you were hungry, anyway

A cooked meal did sound lovely as well, discomfited as you were. You had never met your own grandmothers – not in person at least, so you had no idea if grandmothers were simply like that or not. Regardless, you had a feeling she was going to fill that role in whether you liked it or not. 

Luckily, you were drifting towards like. She did give you free food, after all, and was going to find help for you. That part you were more apprehensive about, however, stubbornness and introversion making you want to be stupid and attempt to pick up carpentry out of nowhere.

All you could do was try to accept it and sigh, taking in the sights, stores, and dwellings as you walked past them and towards the park. A couple shops caught your eye, particularly a clothing boutique, and what could possibly be a hardware store. You weren’t certain, and didn’t want to find out yet. The prospect of entering one and facing the big ass sign that said ‘you don’t know what the hell you're doing!’ was too daunting to approach for now.

It didn’t take you long to get to the park. In fact, it was such a short walk that it bemused you. A population of 600 people seemed larger on paper than it was in reality. Most of the town was behind you, granted, but the uncanniness was uplifting, in a way.

It didn’t feel claustrophobic. The trees in the park were closer together than some of the buildings outside it, and they smelled so good that it knocked you back a step. The entire wild garden carried the fresh perfume of sweet and fresh vegetation, from blooming flowers scattered about and the grass underfoot, to the rustling leaves above. You couldn’t recall the last time you were in a park, let alone one that was as vibrant and alive as this one.

The pergola was easy to find. It resided in the center, right beside a large pond that you saw was filled with koi fish when you got close. 

They swam to-and-fro, carefree, intermingling, playing, and searching for food. 

Your stomach twisted when you made an unintentional connection in your mind. They reminded you of kites. Pretty, ultimately trapped.

The koi fish, however, didn’t seem to mind one bit. Not that you could understand fish language. They just went about their business calmly. It perplexed you, didn’t spending their lives in a single body of water bother them? Didn’t it make them depressed?

Could fish feel depression?

Shaking your head to rid it of the peculiar journey your mind had gone off on, you set the bag down on the table under the pergola and settled into one of the chairs, reaching to dig through your options. Of the items present, you opted to munch on a sandwich Granny had tossed in with everything else, bundled in saran wrap and clearly made by her.

While you were skeptical of pre-made food bought in a grocery store like this, one sniff had you biting into it ravenously. You were way hungrier than you thought as you devoured it, trying to will yourself to slow down enough to at least savor the taste of it. Your earlier guilt and trepidation disappeared three bites in, and you were now very much anticipating Granny’s handmade cooking if this was the kind of sandwich she was capable of creating.

You questioned again if all grannies were like this, or if you lucked out. Either way, if it meant you didn’t have to struggle with food for the time being (or ever, if Granny let you mooch off her forever), you didn’t mind getting spontaneously adopted by her at all.

About halfway through your meal, the koi fish in the pond caught your attention again. They were gorgeous animals, graceful and sleek with scales that twinkled iridescently when the sun flickered over them from between the gaps in the canopy above. They had you mesmerized, sights focused solely on them as they showed off.

Maybe they had managed to hypnotize you, because you decided to tear off a piece of the ham, rip it into tiny pieces, then throw it towards the pond. There was a large splash as all the fish rushed towards the food, making you snicker.

A sort of childish glee bloomed within you, persuading you to indulge them a smidgen longer before you finished off your food. The park seemed like a sacred place where nothing could touch you, where the lands would remain lavish and healthy, and where you could let all your worries fade away.

Arcadian – that was the best way you could describe it. Placid, halcyon, grounding, mellow. You could go on and on, really, but you–

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled when you sensed that someone, or something, was watching you. Heat grazed against your nape, slow, measured breaths right behind your ear. A kiss from a pair of soft lips that never reached your skin. A demanding presence wrapped around your figure, a prey caught in the trap laid out precisely by a steadfast and salivating predator.

Ghostly fingers slid down your shoulders, crept over your forearms, and encircled your wrists, holding them in place with a deceptively lax hold. Something firm and wide pressed against your shoulder blades, keeping you between it and the table.

Your heart kicked in your throat, preventing you from swallowing anything more than a tiny gasp.

And, like the cornered quarry you were, you shifted slowly to peek from the corner of your eye, avoiding any sudden or abrupt movements. You expected to find a beast hovering over your shoulder, eagerly anticipating your reaction. 

There was nothing. 

Only foliage greeted your wide-eyed inspection, expansive and untouched since you came here. The feeling of being hunted on had evaporated as soon as you checked, and though uncertain of this verdict, you chalked it up to being in totally unfamiliar territory. A result of a soundless, featherlight brush of wind, a critter in the foliage envying the fish you fed, lasting no more than a sigh.

Your brow furrowed as you searched through the plant life, seeing not even a hair out of the ordinary. That dovish sensation the park carried returned like it had never left to begin with, coaxing you to let it go and relax.

Maybe that was your cue to leave.

You shook off the lingering sensation with a shiver. Everything was okay in the wooded pasture, and as tranquil as your surroundings were, you knew you’d have to face the elephant in the room eventually.

You dusted yourself off as you got up to dislodge any lingering crumbs, carefully packed everything back into the bag, and took one final look around. This place would become your safe haven, you determined. Already, you were thinking of coming back, the memory of your adrenaline spiking fading rapidly. Imagining returning here gave you that minor push you need to fill your lungs with courage and turn to head back out the way you came.

You could explore the town later. Right now, you needed to address the state of your new stead and gauge what laid ahead of you first. Maybe it’d give you at least an idea of what you required to get started on all of this, though you doubted you’d come out of witnessing it in the full glory of the sun knowing more than you did now.

Absentmindedly, the milieu filtered into your subconscious, automatically noting small landmarks here and there to assist you in finding your way around the streets while they still confused you, until you had learned to traverse them and knew every path and alley like the back of your hand.

(Just in case, you assessed the back of your right hand. You know, to reacquaint yourself with it.)

Glumness overtook. You knew you probably wouldn’t stay here for too long, no matter how much you liked it. You could fix up the house, flip it, and head off someplace else again in pursuit of something that probably didn’t exist.

It’s always been this way for you. The same old pattern, the same old story, the neverending book that looped in on itself over and over, caught in a wormhole where the exit was the entrance.

So it was easy to convince yourself to not get attached to the valley, nor the people, nor that damn sticks-on-bricks abode. Not even the grass filled with flowers and protected by tall trees you had already found yourself longing for.

It was easier this way. This was all you knew, after all.

You had it all figured out.

Didn't you?

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[thesharktanksdriver]

The star above wano still shining (platonic)

Sorry for the long wait on another determination. I’ve had uni, my wisdom teeth being pulled and other things going on so life has been pretty hectic. I’m still working on the law and Corazon part but somehow wrote this in like 2 days. Sorry if some people are out of character, I haven’t yet made it to wano so I went off of mainly clips online and the one piece wiki. Also I haven’t written in awhile so I’m probably kinda rusty, so sorry for that lol

U guys get some crumbs of lore for waiting so long And As always everything is platonic.

Guess which character is my favourite based on how long their section is lol

Warning: child death, described gore, spoilers for wano, don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled for some parts of wano. Read at your own risk

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

You once remember wano being a place of peace the first time you visited it all those years ago

Roger had went to the country to recruit Oden from Whitebeard and in those days you found yourself enjoying the beautiful island

It was a place you’d considered ever laying low in if the time came

And though it wasn’t a long stay there you had throughly enjoyed the land in which the sprawling greenery and light pink of Sakura created an indescribable beauty

It had been so long since you’d been there

So much so that you hadn’t realized you had woken up there once more

Wano was shrouded with an air of oppression upon the people you once saw flourish

Oden despite his short time on Roger’s ship had taught you alllt about the place he called home

And whatever happened here was certainly something that wouldn’t happen under his eye

So you go off to investigate yourself

Feeling yourself drawn somewhere you can’t quite place your finger on

Black Maria

For a long while you walked aimlessly within wano, sticking out like a sore thumb due to your clothing

While everyone else wears kimono’s or yukata’s your just in full on pirate gear

It isn’t exactly the best thing since it seems travellers here weren’t exactly common

So much so that you decided to try and stick to alleyways and quiet streets during the night

But even then the city was bustling, though it did still give a better opportunity to blend in

And it’s there sneaking through alleyways and criss-crossing from place to place you end up behind a brothel

The beautifully dressed women on break taking a look at you with lidded painted eyes that were quickly filled with worry

Bruises and scrapes covering your legs, unwashed hair with things stuck in it along with the clear clothes of a foreigner within the land where no one could leave of get in

The pretty women quickly drag you in the brothel, making sure to avoid occupied rooms and taking you to a spare one as they got to work on sprucing up your appearance

Even giving you a patterned yukata if your own

The hiding your old clothes away beneath the floorboards as they whisper amongst each other

And it’s then after they quickly finished a large blond woman enters through sliding shoji doors

Raging Anger appearing in her eyes before they land on you

A small child with bruises still on your small form and bandages that covered some of your cuts

Her anger disappeared as does the geisha woman who silently gives you a look “don’t tell her”

It is there you meet the woman Black Maria, the owner of this pleasure house and apart of the Beast pirates

You’ve heard of those pirates before, how people shuttered at just the name itself as if it were a curse

But as Maria gently looks you over, large hands examining your bruises with a gentle touch you can’t help but think you probably got lucky

Especially when seeing the initial anger that then bubbled away

Manicured nails making sure not to cause you more harm as she grazes over wounds

It’s there she asks where your parents were and you answer truthfully, that their long gone and it’s been you on your own

You didn’t think it was possible but her eyes softened more, a turquoise blue reminding you of precious jewels

She contemplates for a minute, then eyes then hardening a bit as she asks you if you’d like to work for her as a delivery/message bringer and you agree

Working under Maria is certainly an…odd position

Though you worked delivery for Sengoku at Marineford working for Maria is much different for you

Especially since the horned woman seems to coddle you

When she’s not entertaining customers or doing her work she often spends her time with you

Helping style your hair with ornate hairpins or picking out patterned kimono’s for you to wear

Fretting over your scraped knee’s as she chastises you in being more careful

Teaching you to play the shamisen and being proud when you pick it up with flying colours

Singing you to sleep on the nights you find yourself restless

She reminds you of a mother, maybe not your own but an extremely dotting one

But despite all this you still see some of her cruelty towards others

Though it’s not directed at you, you’ve sometimes run into her punishing others

Getting a sick glee from hearing screams and bones crack beneath flesh

It’s disturbing…especially when she does completely switches when your around

A distinct contrast from the motherly persona she puts on for you

Kissing your forehead good luck in the morning as you set out to deliver before then killing someone in cold blood just minutes later

In some ways it’s terrifying but by now on the sea you’d seen and met so many people that it’s lost its punch it might’ve when you initially set out

So you go off, delivering her letters and such to others in the beast pirates ranks

A golden hairpin of a spider crawling across a branch of flowers added to your obi to signify your protection and status as her messenger

When you come back to her personal residence she pats your head and then tells you to eat up the meal she’d had prepared specially for you

It’s nice, perhaps even a bit nostalgic for you

And after checking you over she sends you to bed in a renovated room she gave you that’s near her own

She says it’s more convenient that way, for you to be onsite and close for when she needs more deliveries

But she doesn’t tell you about how she checks on you in the night when your small cries while asleep can be quietly heard through the thin walls

Doesn’t say how she personally threatened the other commanders that if they lay a single hand on you she’d deal with them herself

Doesn’t admit how she itches with a sort of possessiveness in knowing you work for her when others begin to gain a curious interest in the small fearless child she now calls her own

She likes the gentle feeling of warmth you give her heart

Likes how she can find herself to be kind and caring with you

Enjoys the fact you value her company over business or pleasure

When you smile at her it’s genuine

And the woman who weaves webs decides that one day a new spider would take her place

Perhaps you’d take that role

But for now your her dutiful little messenger

A cute little treasure she’d take good care of and nurture as if you were her own child

Because perhaps she considers you that

When a mother spider catches a brightly shining firefly in her web, she’s hardly content in letting it go after all

“Which would you like for today?” Black Maria questions as she holds out several folded up kimonos. Each look to be high quality, all with patterns and warm comfortable material to protect from the wano weather.

You look up towards her, tilting your head a bit in confusion. “Are you sure I need so many? I’m just your delivery-“

“Don’t be ridicules dear” she cuts you off, then placing a gentle hand on your head. Normally she’d ruffle it but she had already put in the effort of styling it and didn’t want to ruin her work. “You work for me. And I can’t have my precious little messenger underprepared for the weather. Besides, I have plenty spare kimono that are wasting away not being used.”

“I’ve survived with worse before. One time I was forced out in minus 10 weather while in nothing but shorts and a shirt”. That might’ve not have been the best thing you could’ve said cause her expression shifts to horror. “But it’s fine though!-“

She sighs, then lightly flicking your forehead. “Whoever did that to you better be dead or else.” She holds out the kimono again “no ifs, ands or buts. Now pick”. Under her fierce and loving gaze you choose one of the folded bundles, a dark blue kimono with the pattern of fireflies in a field is the one you decide on

Sasaki

You meet the green haired fishman when delivering a letter to him while he was drinking

It was right before your mandatory lunch break Maria practically forces you to have when hearing that you ran around all day without stopping

So after delivering the letter you decided to stay with the relatively laidback looking who invited you to join due to his curiosity

You find Sasaki to be a relatively odd figure, not only for his relatively lax demeanour but also his burning ambition

He wants to become an All-Star within the beast pirates ranks by defeating one and taking their place

As does his colleague Who’s-Who

To be honest you haven’t really cared to learn the hierarchy of this crew

All you knew is that it seemed like these “All-stars” were the highest on the chain besides their captain Kaido

Speaking of which, Sasaki talks about him quite a bit while sipping his sake

The clear alcoholic liquid being chugged as if it were water

Sasaki holds him in a high regard, but for others on the crew…not so much

Sure, there were a few that had earned his respect for them but in others he seemed to find them too haughty

Luckily for you it seems you’ve gotten on his good side

his easygoing and your calm mix well together, a laid back charm between the two of you despite being very different in other regards

It’s due to this that on your breaks the green haired man seeks you out

At first it’s the occasional asking if you’d like to join him for some food as you start your break

But later devolves into practically kidnapping you to join him and his subordinates to party

Typically at parties adults aren’t too keen on letting you sneak some alcohol but the fishman either doesn’t care or thinks it’s funny until Black Maria and more responsible adults are on his ass about it

Speaking of which, Maria can’t help but be a little exasperated that of all people it had to be Sasaki who was the first to get attached to you

Something he rubs in the face of others later on

And uses as a sort of leverage? Your not really sure how that happened but he’s definitely holding that above Who’s-Who and Ulti as if it were a gift from the gods

But either way you find him to be fun, especially when asking him about his devil fruit or his time as his own pirate crew

Both things he talks about in high regard

While on the sea you’d actually heard about his crew, and though you’d never met them it does pique your interest

Especially since how can someone as prideful as Sasaki go from being a captain of his own crew to being an underling to another?

It’s odd

But something kinda intriguing since something like that happens very rarely

Since typically the captain is killed

But instead Sasaki was able to rise in the ranks

He’s not at the top like he wants but it would be somewhat naive to say he isn’t powerful or lucky in his own regard

His devil fruit also interests you cause….dinosaurs!!!

You’d got to see some firsthand on your couple of times waking up on little garden (and then being quickly eaten by said dinosaurs if Dorry and Brogy weren’t there)

But getting to see one that doesn’t actively try to kill you is super cool

Especially since you get to examine without being stomped like a pancake

Sasaki seems to take pride in how amazed you look, especially when you start spewing out Triceratops facts

Some from first hand experience like “did you know they have the capacity to tear off your head if the wanted too-“ and “their hardened skin allows for defence against other predators!”

To be honest after a long while of using his devil fruit the amazement effect of it had worn off

So having someone fawn over it is kinda nice

Sasaki feels appreciated by you, like he’s being listened to when he goes off on a partially drunken regal of his pirates days

And in a similar fashion Sasaki listens to you

For a unassuming kid you talk as if a library of knowledge was directly in your head

Along with that you seem to throw safety to the wind like the time you almost got into an arm wrestling contest with Ulti before he had to drag you away

Because who in their right mind would do that when she for sure would somehow accidentally kill you

You have guts for sure, something he definitely respects

But also leaves him worried shitless because what’s next? King have a tea party with you or something?!

Him and Who’s-Who made bets about whether that would happen or not and he has his good booze on the line if you somehow make that happen

And he prays that won’t happen for not only the sake of his booze and his own sanity

“Oi kid! Wanna join for some lunch?”

“I have one more letter to deliver-“ before you can finish the horned man picks you up by the scruff of your kimono giving a laugh.

“Eh don’t sweat it. I can send someone to do it for you after. You’ve been on your feet all day, you need a break”

Who’s-Who

Similarly to Sasaki, Who’s-Who is a relatively odd but interestingly determined figure

You had delivered stuff to him a few times but actually get to know him through Sasaki’s forced lunch breaks

He’s stone faced at first

But over time you see the chipping away of his somewhat serious disposition

Especially when people seemingly get on his nerves and his anger flares up

He has…quite the barrage of insults, so much so that the typically loose mouthed Sasaki covers your ears

But to be honest you’d probably heard worse with your years on the sea

Anywho (hah) you listen to a lot of his rants about his backstory

Specifically something to do with CP9? It was something government and marine related

Sounded vaguely familiar but to be honest you typically forget about the specifics of most things and people after a certain amount of time

So you just nod along as he keeps going off

Until he starts getting into stuff about history that’s blatantly wrong

Specifically about fishmen

So you correct him and that ends up in a landslide of rebutting his points with hard facts

And in that verbal exchange despite his biting tone you keep calm and explain what was wrong

And seemingly because you stood your ground he gained a liking for you?

Your not sure how but you guessed he thought you’d be a pushover (it depends on the situation)

But for a kid who’s job was being a messenger you seemingly proved yourself to him in some weird convoluted way

Though that might’ve also been because you answered some of his questions about some myths he had been interested in

The sun god and the star god

Apparently he’d heard about the two while in jail, the stories giving him hope of one day being free and having the power to achieve his goals

Two enigmatic beings that surpassed even you in how old they were

Two shining beacons acting as hope for the hopeless and shackled down

Giving people the power to rebel and achieve their dreams

Even you hadn’t heard too much about the two, just odd myths here and there

But with what you did have seemed to satisfy the pink haired man

But that brought up the question of how you knew those myths

Something you don’t really reveal and just write off as “heard it somewhere”

But at this point Who’s-Who didn’t care enough to question it

Let alone try and get you into trouble when you’ve been one of the only people to actually be able to give him more information

So he’s satisfied

At least for now

Sometimes you run into him on your way to deliver things and he joins you for a bit of the way if he has nothing to do

You slow down a bit to a brisk walk as he leisurely follows suit

Conversation following quickly after on a wide variety of topics

He’ll be damned to admit it but your way too good of a kid to be stuck here

Let alone be kinda working for the beast pirates considering their reputation

But he supposes that every has their reasons

And it doesn’t seem like you’d be able to leave anytime soon considering Maria practically dotes on you like your her own flesh and blood

But he won’t say that aloud

Not when the blond woman would throttle him

And you’d probably look at him all confused

For such a mature kid your still pretty naive and clueless in some departments

I mean come on! Do you not see how the scariest woman on the damn island is basically wrapped around your finger

She almost attacked Sasaki for sneaking you some sake and it was only because of you politely asking her not that she didn’t

He’s definitely partially convinced you have some sort of friendship devil fruit or something

That thought is only becoming more prominent when you somehow befriend Ulti

“So you and Sasaki want to become an “All-Star” right? How does that work?”

“Either Kaido elects you himself or you prove yourself by defeating an All-Star and taking their place”

You nod, then asking “so who do you wanna beat?”

He smiles “doesn’t matter, as long as I become an All-Star is the goal”

Ulti

The cutesy and hot tempered young lady is one you run into by accident since Maria didn’t trust that she wouldn’t blow a fuse somehow if you had to deliver a letter to her

But nether the less you both meet

And seemingly like Black Maria she finds you to be cute

Which means you have less of a chance to be victim to being attacked by her unless you reallly provoked her somehow

But luckily you haven’t! Especially when you can see subtly gestures as to when she gets irritated

She gets volatile pretty quick but it’s just as easy to be able to calm her down when you call her “lady Ulti”

She seems to like the idea of being a polite lady of high society and maturity

So much so that when she’s not angry she tries to fit this image

And she also seems to like cutsy girlish things

Both of which you indulge her in which gets you in her good graces much to everyone’s shock and amazement

To be honest you don’t really get the deal? This might be you just being desensitized to this kinda stuff but she’s honestly not to hard to deal with

Calling her “lady Ulti” or buying her a few cute charms with some of the money Black Maria gives you seems to placate her anger in most instances

Something that others seem to be thankful for

Though she’s a fierce-some pirate with a temper she also enjoys some of the more simple things in life

She likes to have tea parties with you and do mundane things like shopping or having her hair braided

Perhaps due to being the older sister and caretaker to her brother after their father died she hadn’t had much a childhood to experience such things

Not that you mind, you can’t even really remember your childhood before taking to the sea

Your parents faces blurred and distorted, voices lost like whispers in the wind, their warm hugs dissipated into cold nothingness

So you enjoy your time with her, reliving a time of innocent happiness just as she does

She gets a bit over excited at times not realizing her strength like the time she almost crushed your spine in a hug

But she slowly begins to realize how in comparison your much more fragile than her and others around her

Page one definitely helps her with this quite a bit, especially considering she was like this when they were kids and back then she also had to regulate her strength around people (aka him with her death hugs)

Speaking of her brother she actually pretty happy she’s found a friend?

He’s not really sure how it happened but he’s genuinely happy for her, (also cause she doesn’t cling to him as much, she still does occasionally but now your her main target lol)

She acts a lot like how a sister would

Though she’s sometimes bratty she’s still caring and mischievous in a fun way

Often dragging you away to play games or browse through the shops nearby

It’s honestly pretty nice (when she’s not angry)

But with this comes some genuine moments with her

After their dad died Kaido had taken her and Page one in

As the eldest she decided she needed to step up

And while she did do that she felt like she lost time in enjoying her childhood, of spending time with her brother and forming genuine connections

Being in the beast pirates is a constant power struggle

People always trying to climb to the top no matter the cost

She’s lost a portion of herself in establishing stability for both herself and Page one

Now trying to make up for it even if he saw her clingy affection as annoying

Because at heart she does care

She cares a lot about the few who’ve made the effort to see her

And even if she snaps like a twig when things don’t go her way she doesn’t really mean to

It’s just how she reacts and she can’t really hone it back despite her attempts to do so

But you see that when others don’t

And she deeply appreciates it in her own way

So when she barges in and takes you shopping it’s her trying to show how she appreciates the efforts

Or when she picks you up and sits you atop her shoulder so you can see above the crowd and not get lost

Black Maria is certainly in for a surprise when she finds the two of you having a tea party but decidedly joins in

It’s odd seeing Ulti so happy without snapping in the span of a few minutes but Maria is pleasantly impressed

Though she does get a bit annoyed when Ulti then starts hounding her to send more letters so she has more excuses to play Hanafuda with you (you let her win each time)

Everyone seems to pity your eardrums for when she squeals in joy

“Hey lady Ulti, do you wanna get matching Omamori charms?” You say holding up two of the small luck charms, she turns to you eyes widening with delight.

“Kya!! Really!”

“Sure, it’s why I asked”

Yamato

You met Yamato completely by accident not knowing who he was or why he was in the walls

But at this point you don’t question anything as he freezes in place and you just ask “yo…are you alright? Should I go orrrrr?” In which shakes his head

And then you leave

But then a few days later he finds you while on your way back to Black Maria’s

In which he talks to you

In many ways you find Yamato to be aspiring as you feel his determination burn brightly and strong

He’s faced adversity yet he stands tall admits it all

And….well seeing him idolize Oden and even pick up his mannerism is kinda oddly comforting to you

It must have been years (how many exactly you don’t know) since you last saw Oden but it feels like yesterday

You remember talking with him on the Jolly Roger

Remember him regaling proudly of his homeland and of the Whitebeard pirates who welcomed him aboard

Remember his goodbye to the Roger crew and his joyous hug before stepping off the ship into what now feels like a shadow of what used to be his home

And now your faced with someone who acts like him

Oden was a friend who felt like an old one despite how little time he truly spent with you

And as quickly as he came into your life he was gone like many others you’d met, and all the same it stings and burns like acid

You’d never met his family like he promised

Never had that giant feast he promised Shanks, Buggy and you when you’d all visit

Never got to fulfil in fully raising Momonosuke

Never had the chance in fulfilling his life before his spark was snuffed out

But as you talk more with the young prince you see that while he isn’t Oden himself it certainly feels like in some sense your talking a bit to Oden again

Seeing how Yamato seemingly fights against his father

Against all those you’d somehow come to know while technically working for the beast pirates is inspiring

Especially considering how strong they all are

You didn’t need to see them fight to know how powerful even non All-Stars were

I mean, Kaido wouldn’t be named an “emperor” of the sea and was able to conquer a nation if he wasn’t a powerhouse

Yet Yamato keeps fighting

Because Yamato wouldn’t back down…no he couldn’t back down

Just like Oden wouldn’t

You have to sneak out to hang out with the red horned prince but no one really bats an eye

Not when they just assume your being a kid

So at night Yamato and you hang out

And you tell him your experiences with Oden yourself

And much to your surprise he believes you

He believe you wholeheartedly so much so that it makes you confused

Until he pulls out an old book, partially withered by age yet loved and cared for to keep its contents in surviving longer

And in that book in which Oden wrote while on the high sea with the likes of Whitebeard and Roger

He mentioned a young sailor child that was on Roger’s ship, one he nicknamed within the book as “Chīsana hoshi”

Little star

An affectionate nickname the Daimyo would give to you

The mysterious child whom told stories of the stars and of tales untold

One with what felt like great burning stars in their eyes and wormed their way into the hearts of many

One that sang with the sea and knew secrets untold

To be honest you’d be more touched by the sentiment if Oden didn’t tact on to the end a stick figure drawing of you

Cause wow….for someone who was well educated and wrote so eloquently he really just outed you with a stick figure

Speaking of which, you’d gone years without there being proper photos or drawings of you to escape the world governments attention

But it’s a stick figure

A god damn stick figure

You can’t tell if your upset or kinda impressed

Either way it’s safe to say that Yamato hounds you with questions

But you can’t say you don’t enjoy it as it refreshes your memory a bit

Something you never mind especially when you find yourself remembering details your quickly forgetting over the years

And Yamato seems to notice this as you go blank for a few seconds trying to remember

The slow look of horror as you find yourself not being able to recall some moments

Some things completely lost to the static of your mind and time

And the ecstatic enthusiasm faded from Yamato seeing how broken down the more you try to recall

And realizing you can’t

So he instead shifts the topic

Talking about his yearning for freedom

Anything to take your mind off remembering

And it doesn’t work until he mentions a catalyst to this

Ace

“Ace…as in Portgas Ace?” You question warily watching as Yamato’s expression lights up. He practically springs up, taking out a small piece of paper you recognize as a vivre card

“You know him!” He exclaims excitedly.

“Yeah i helped raise him” you say pulling out the small sun charm as Yamato’s eyes widen in surprise.

“WHAT?!?”

King

Once more you meet him via deliveries but Maria gives you a fair warning about him

Announce your presence and do not go in without his permission lest you end up as ash pile on the ground

Fun

Though probably not one of the worst ways to die

You’d know that personally

But anyways you end up where his office should be

Never going this far into the fortress before now

To be honest the layout was a bit confusing but you made your way after asking a few passerby’s for directions

Them then giving you pitied stares as you go on your way

This guy can’t be that bad right?

And then arrive at the office announcing yourself with mail for him from Miss Black Maria

Keeping the honourifics just in case

For a moment there’s silence and then you hear movement

And the squeaking of something?

Why was there squeaking? Was he in leather pants or something-

And then the shoji doors open

And wow…..you didn’t expect that

Is he in…did you interrupt him or something???!??!

Your staring at this leather wearing head to toe dude with spikes and shit and- did he have a live flame in his back??

Yeah…this is weird even for you and that’s saying something

You hand him the letter and quickly scurry off

Not noticing the flame above him shining a bit brighter than usual

But he does

That’s Odd? Is what he notes to himself

When you deliver to him again it’s relatively the same routine as last time

Though you notice he pays closer attention

Watches your uncomfortable expression as you wait for him to take the letter and let you leave already

And when he does you scurry off again

For some reason though it happens again

His plume burning brighter than it usually would, an almost golden yellow colour rather than the typically orange and red he was used to

That hadn’t happened before

And now looking at it again did the fire begins to change shape?

But that….no he muses to himself that can’t be

It sounds vaguely familiar to something he once heard before the testing and before he lost his homeland

A legend whispered as comfort from a mother he can’t remember in his sleep

Something about a star and its burning flames

But king shakes his head

He’s suspicious but he doesn’t have much to go off now especially since the legends of his people are mostly lost

Besides not even he can remember the myths of his home

Barely old enough to even walk before being stripped of it and shipped off by the world government for testing

He wouldn’t be able remember much let alone remember it actively

Let alone know about a god they used to worship when barely anything is known of them compared to that of Joyboy

Plus your just some kid Maria took pity on, one that a few of the others seemed to have also taken a liking to

Nothing more and nothing less

But something deep in him told him the opposite

Like a small lick of a flame from a candle in the dark

A quiet glow in the sea of shadows

Faint and minuscule but there

Like a single star in the midnight sky, there shining but small and alone

…or at least that’s what this emotional constipated bird man says at first

Because you had apparently survived your delivery to King without being turned to ash has led to other messages being sent through Maria to you to him

Maria was enraged at first but you somehow talked her into it along with the fact that she gets more profit by charging for this service

Soo…. You end up meeting the learning wearing giant of a man

And somehow make conversation with him

To be honest not even he’s sure how it happened

It just did

Cause he asked about how your parents felt about this and it went into a long discussion with you

Specifically about how

A) their dead

B) you don’t remember them

And C) it’s been so long on your own you didn’t even remember where your home was

All of which he understands more than anyone else

To be honest that small question opened a floodgate in him he didn’t expect nor want

But either way it was opened and he couldn’t close it

Because every time he looks at you now he sees himself

Eyes that have seen too much for their age

Eyes that used to be wide and full of wonder reduced to that of tired ones

But unlike him at that age you don’t have the resenting anger he did

To be fair he perhaps had more to be angry about yet it also leaves him confused

How did you turn out the way you did despite it all?

A child who ended up in one of the worse environments possible yet thrives

A child who befriended or got on the good sides of notorious criminals and killers

A child despite seemingly loosing everything still keeping the spark to still find happiness

He sees in which you enjoy the rain despite the cold chill it leaves and the threat of sickness

Watches as you feed your packed bento from Maria’s cooks to a murder of crows even when your stomach grumbles

Observes while you keep strumming a guitar or keep walking even when your feet or fingers bleed

In a lot of ways your like him yet also the complete opposite

And it leaves him confused

And makes him watch

And-

“You don’t have to watch from the shadows you know?” You say not looking up from feeding your crow as he perches on your outstretched finger. You sit on the edge of the railing of a balcony, dangerously close to falling with a simple breeze “I don’t mind the company”

“You noticed me?” The lunarian man mumbles walking out from the doorway and stands by the rail as you continue to feed the bird. He watches the small winged creature, it caws in curiosity at his arrival and tilts its head curiously at the sight of his similar wings.

“You’re not too hard to notice to be fair….but it was your flame that sounded me off. It’s subtle but it’s there” you turn to look at him, petting the feathered little friend. “You notice that kinda thing after a while of being on your own. Even the smallest shift in the wind can alert your mind, giving the hope that someone else was there…but I get the feeling you know that already”

“I do”

A smile appears across your face. “Great minds think alike” your tone is somewhat joyous yet he hears a somewhat sad edge “don’t they Reggie?”

“Reggie? Is that the bird?”

“Yep, raised him and the flock myself!”

“You…raised them all?” Red eyes look out to nearby tree’s, at least 40 beady eyes stare out at him.

“Found them half dead after some villagers tried to kill them. Bad luck or whatever, but sounds like whack superstitions to me” you hold out Reggie to him (leaving out that these were the descendants of those same birds) “wanna hold him?”

King reluctantly takes the bird, the small gentle creature hopping onto his finger. It reacts….positively to him? Much to his surprise. King goes silent for a few moments, watching the midnight feathered bird then rubs its head against him. “I’m confused about you”

“Oh?”

“How are you the way are despite everything?” It’s a broad question “aren’t you angry at the world?”

You give a laugh “of course I’m angry. It took a long time to realize I was, so much had happened to me” you go a bit quiet at the last part but suddenly perk up again as you add “but I’ve met so many good people, seen so many beautiful things. And maybe…just maybe that makes me more content than it does angry. Don’t get me wrong, I still get upset but I have people there for me, some kinda healthy ways to deal with it I guess”

Reggie nudges king as the All-Star goes a bit quiet watching as you then stand on the balcony railing. He quirks an eyebrow beneath his mask, what are you doing-

“Wanna see something cool?” Before he can answer you raise out your arms leaning back dangerously, things practically go in slow motion for him as he races to grab you before you can do your trick

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?, do you have a death wish or something?!?”

“death isn’t that bad? There are worse things than death, believe me. But I was gonna-“ dear gods if he didn’t have white hair already then it would be after that

After that king for some reason keeps thinking about that moment

More specifically your mindset of death

And what the fuck have been through?

But he’s not wondering that in concern of course (definitely not)

More-so curiosity and how it could benefit Kaido (of course)

So he keeps thinking about it

And you

And ends up worrying that you’ll do something stupid again so he goes to find you

And make sure you didn’t do something stupid again that killed you

And wondering if you know how many near misses with death you have on a daily basis

So he goes back to watching silently

And…then joining you when you point out you know he’s there

And it’s not his fault that you seem to ease up to his company

And that you aren’t as annoying as his colleagues (when your not doing near death stupid shit)

And-

Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck

He quite literally goes through the 5 stages of grief

First is denial, of course he didn’t care for you

You were just some kid Maria employed and it was just more convenient to make sure you stayed alive- oi why the fuck is queen trying to drag you on stage for his stupid concert

Second is anger, and he’s unsure if he’s angry at you, himself or the situation because honestly how could he possibly somehow get attached to a kid of all things?! Let alone a weird one that seemingly relates to….him and loosing a home he doesn’t remember

Third is bargaining, no! He’s in control here! He’s can just stop talking with you and stop worrying….wait didn’t you just say you were gonna go out in the beast infested forest

Fourth is depression, because oh god he’s attached. The literal only other person he’s attached to is Kaido for obvious reasons. He didn’t think he needed other attachments to others but now he cares and god does it suck when you a god damn extrovert who’s also a magnet for trouble

And finally is acceptance, because he’s attached now god damn it and it’s simultaneous yours and (mostly) his problem

To be honest you don’t really mind at this point

Coming to enjoy his more quiet company after getting over his…odd attire (something which you now poke at him for)

Plus his wings and fire was cool

Oh! And his rad devil fruit too!!!

Dinosaurs were cool in general so it’s definitely an A+ in your books

Not gonna lie the dichotomy of chill sweet kid that everyone has a soft spot for and literally the scariest dude out there is one you find hilarious

Especially after you walked past a confused Sasaki who got a “yo” from you and a death glare from king

It definitely causes heads to turn while king doesn’t care you just find it funny as hell

You find him to be like…a scary big brother

Sure, he rolls his eyes sometimes at your jokes but you know he cares in his own ways when he stopes you from falling down another flight of stairs Cora-style

He seems to express this by just being around you, listening and protecting you

It’s nice

And also gives you the warning that he’s more attentive than most others

Honestly he seems to have a sixth sense for when you try and hide yet another scrape or cut

Like you could have the smallest splatter of mud on your kimono and he’s already figured out you fell earlier

and then calling you an idiot before dragging you to the nearest doctor employed by his crew

It’s honestly impressive and a bit worrying

So you definitely are careful about some of the things you say

But you still tell him stories

Regal your woes of adventures but frame them as being on Wano

And he listens to them all the same

Soaking up your words

One day you give to him a charm fashioned of moonstones, a small piece of gold you carved into a small star,and spare feathers of your crows whom had come to immediately love him (especially perching on his shoulders for warmth)

And in return he give you one of his feathers, one freshly plucked from his wing that you later turn into an earring

What you don’t know is that of the little things he’s remembered of his home is that the gift you gave him was something akin to a lunarian’s gift towards a close friend

He knows at this point with his flame still turning a bright gold and changing shape it can’t be coincidence

But for now he leaves it be

That can be answered later

Especially when for once King feels like Alber again

A lone boy who lost his home who yearned to find someone like him

And though he didn’t find another Lunarian he found someone else instead

But that was fine for him

“This may be a weird question, but do you ever wish you could fly high enough to touch the stars?” You asked one night looking up towards a brightly shining night sky.

Alber looks up for a moment wings involuntarily flexing at the thought of it “it’s all I ever wanted”. It had been a dream of his ever since he had been locked away and prodded at, to fly so high to the stars that would comfort him with their warmth compared to his barely flickering flame. To let a god whose name he can’t remember hear his prayers.

You both share this silent moment both realizing something about the other

For you it’s how his flame shines a light gold, dancing as they formed a familiar four pointed star you’d yet to forget

While for him it’s the fact that for a moment he sees in the depths of yours eyes the brightest star in the sky that used to reside over his home

Queen

Once more you get a warning from Black Maria about him and you think it can’t possibly be more weird than king

You walk in on this dude having a full on concert whilst the crowd of beast pirates roar in cheers for him

Somehow you begin to believe that maybe Kaido hires the most insane weirdo’s out there

Like Roger literally sometimes found random people on the street and asked them to join

But this, this is a new level of finding people

He also gives you kinda off vibes

So you stay clear, handing the note to one of his men and asking forgot it to be delivered when his performance was done

Dodged a bullet there

Though you would admit his song was kinda catchy

…separate the art from the artist? Nah, he probably did some war crimes or worse

Next time your not so lucky though

Catching him just before his concert as apparently one of the lead guitarist flunked out due to being too hungover

Queen, not being to keen to really talk to anyone because this would fuck up his concert and he was very very fucking upset over that

Like borderline really dramatically upset about it

I mean, you guess you can’t blame him but still

He was taking it a bit far by throwing someone against the wall though

You’d rather not start a civil war if Black Maria heard he accidentally squished you like a stress toy so you step up instead

Taking the lone guitar held up by a relatively scared pirate and take a Quick Look at the sheet to memorize it after a minute or two

Looks like your deliveries would be on a bit of a pause until this was done

You just thank whatever gods there are that Maria is a forgiving boss (to you at least) and that over your many years alone on the barren sea you picked up just about every instrument you could and mastered them (partially to pass time and keep sane)

Though this was also partially due to Brook and the Rumbar pirates

Turning to the still scared shitless assistant yelling at him to tell you what you need to play

Which seemingly gets the attention of the large blond who was now looking down at your curiously

Picking you up by the scruff (why did everyone do that and why was everyone so damn tall here???) to get a proper look at you

Inquisitively trying to figure out just exactly who you were before seeing the hairpin Maria gave you

But then that brings up new questions

Ones he’s about to ask before you tell him that you’d fill in for the first half of the show as long as he’d get someone for the second half and take the mail you have for him

He quirks a brow asking if your any good

And just say that your rusty but good enough to get the job done

With that he puts you down, somewhat relived that at least you’d be somewhat competent

And with that the crowd keeps cheering waiting for him to come on stage

You tie up the sleeves of your kimono for more movement and ready your hand movements

It’s been awhile since you played guitar or even a bass but it would have to do

You would always prefer you ukulele anyways but you were decent with other instruments

So with that you enter the stage via a staircase up and through a side door

Just before queen is literally launched on stage

And then you begin as the crowd goes wild

Typically when you’d play you were by yourself so you could never really gauge how good you were

Like sure, you could sometimes see your progress but in other times it all sounded and played the same

In a sense it was lonely but filling at the same time

You were always a solo, yet it filled the sound of the quiet waves and relative silence you’d normally experience

A silence that sometimes became chilling as you laid there

Days to weeks on end

With no one

With nothing but memories

With nothing but your mind to fill it

It’s why you had found yourself taking to so many hobbies

If only to fill time and oblivion

You’d hands move on their own as you pick up on what was slowly lost to you

Becoming more complicated and impressive as you find yourself having fun with it

You even pull off a few tricks if only to make the show better

Might as well show off a little when you have people to show off too

Queen keeps singing as do the chorus of fans

Eh screw it

Lifting the guitar behind your head is more a challenge due to its weight rather than you playing it

You’d perfected the party trick after many many many attempts and practice

And after a moment of getting used to it again the muscle memory kicked in

The crowd goes wild and your not sure if it’s from Queen or your performance

Probably Queen

You close your eyes in concentration

It was easier that way when getting into the groove of it for you

Closing your eyes and concentrating

Just letting yourself play as the world around you faded out into a darkness that you’ve familiarized yourself with

Keep going even if your sweating buckets

Keep playing even if your things go numb and bleed

You dealt with worse

There was that time your hand was chopped off and you were left to die

To bleed out

You know the feeling Almost intimately

The pain

The drowsiness

The want for sleep

And then finish

Your hand strums down and the final cord rings out

You open your eyes and ears to the crowd silent for a moment

And staring at you

As does Queen and the others on the stage

Wow were you that bad-

Deafening cheers then ring out and you stand there looking around confused for a moment

Then spotting the new guitarist frozen and almost paper white, he must’ve been horrified at your performance

Hand him the guitar you pat his back

Giving him a small smile and a “break a leg out there” before rummaging through your pockets to hand Queen the letter

You look to the still cheering crowd and their hands already raised to catch you

Giving a peace sign to performers on stage and then you dive into the crowd

Letting them throw you into the air before catching you again multiple times, then eventually get you to the door

Not long later Queen tries to get you to sign a “music deal”?

Your not sure what that is but King quickly intercepted by kicking the door down and burning said paper

He’s still trying to get you to preform again

“If you think that was good, you should see my ukulele game. It’s my favourite” you say picking up the same guitar you preformed with last time, distantly in the crowd you see Sasaki, Who’s-Who and Ulti who seemingly dragged along Page One.

“Kid, I don’t think that will make you much money” Queen responds as he readies himself

“It’s not about money, it’s for fun. Besides, I’m not that good at guitar anyways”

“Say that to the crowd”

Kaido

While staying in wano and traversing the place of the beast pirates home you’ve noticed an odd pulling sensation

You noticed it when you first came to wano, but as you got closer to the layer of beasts it got stronger

Pulling and directing you deeper into the almost literal lions den

You’d yet to find out what it was but you’d sometimes come closer to it

As if it moved within this place

But today you’d have the opportunity to perhaps find it, apparently Maria wanted to drag you along to a meeting issued by Kaido himself

Why? Well you weren’t all that sure but it was something along the lines of Kaido’s curiosity and her deciding that it was best for you to get more Involved

Whatever that meant

You had the feeling she was wanting you to officially join

Something of which that others seemed to agree on

Normally when this would happen you’d have somehow died or run away but…your not sure what’s holding you back this time

Maybe it’s that mysterious pull

That’s what you chalk it up to yet you know there are other reasons

Maria for sure is one

King is another

Both for some reason are people you can’t quite want to say goodbye to

But you know it will come eventually

So you push the thoughts away for later

Maria eagerly dresses you up today, doing your hair with the upmost precision

Gently directing your head while she adds she light touches of makeup

She looks proudly at her work (or is it you?) before explaining what the meeting was about…pirates politics or something

You didn’t really get it but just nodded along as she giggled

Booping your nose and saying all you had to do was just be there

Which you were more than fine with

So you go with her

Deeper into Kaido’s territory

That odd pull getting greater and at the same time somehow weaker

Like a frequency on a radio

You hadn’t even noticed it but your now at the door to the meeting room

King crouched down to be closer to your eye level asking if your ok

You haven’t even noticed how much of a daze you were in

You nod, just saying your alright

He accepts it but clearly still has a bit of worry

And in you enter

Everyone but Kaido inside

Page one being Ashley’s with hugs by Ulti

Sasaki and Who’s-who glaring daggers as Queen and then King

Maria has you sit down beside her, cooing over how adorable you apparently look

Ulti then joining in

Other in the room giving you pitied stares

But that’s before shoji doors slide open

And everyone straightens in their seats

For a moment there is silence

And then

You hear your name

Looking up you catch eyes with the somewhat elusive Kaido but for a man who’s said to be bloodthirsty and stoic his face is molded into that of guilt?

Guilt, surprise and perhaps a tinge of sadness

Everyone’s eyes are on you now but all you can focus on is Kaido’s

Pools of gold tinged with recognition

He knows you

Or rather knew you

You try to think back

He knows you, you must’ve met him before but…you don’t remember

you didn’t remember him…..

You don’t remember

You don’t remembeṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t remembė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t rememb̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t remem̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t reme̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t rem̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t re̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t ̸̮̓́̎̊̉��͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don’t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don ̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You don̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You dơ̶̗̱̅̑̒̅͂n̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

You d̵̯̰̈́̐̈ͅơ̶̗̱̅̑̒̅͂n̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

Yoų̶̛͚͈̫̯̻̩͙̍̾͠ ̷͍͇̮̙̼͙̤̜͊́͗̓͠d̵̯̰̈́̐̈ͅơ̶̗̱̅̑̒̅͂n̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

Yö̶̹͕̩͓͉̤̲̟̟́̾͜ų̶̛͚͈̫̯̻̩͙̍̾͠ ̷͍͇̮̙̼͙̤̜͊́͗̓͠d̵̯̰̈́̐̈ͅơ̶̗̱̅̑̒̅͂n̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

Y̸̢̰̼̟̱͉̏̇͊͠ö̶̹͕̩͓͉̤̲̟̟́̾͜ų̶̛͚͈̫̯̻̩͙̍̾͠ ̷͍͇̮̙̼͙̤̜͊́͗̓͠d̵̯̰̈́̐̈ͅơ̶̗̱̅̑̒̅͂n̷̡̰̰̳̳̥̲͎̅̒’̴̛̺̋́͌̌̓̍̃̇̂t̸̺̪͈͔̮̫̉͊͆̓́̔̎͘͝ ̸̮̓́̎̊̉̕͘͠r̵̬͈̣̭̎̾̔͗̓̕͜e̸̤̎m̴͕͈̥̣͌͑̈̚e̵̢̟̤̠̥̓m̴̨̛̼̺̤͙̑̿͗̔̉̀͜b̶̧̝̕ė̵̡̬̰͓̜͚̰̤̯̈́̀̒̎ṙ̶̖͖͍͖̺̹̗̘͖̔͜

Your forgetting more and more

You know some things have been a bit foggy but you didn’t think you’ve forgotten someone again

How many times this has happened you’re not sure, is this the first? Or one of many?

You didn’t want to forget

But you had already forgotten your parents

Your home that now resembles an empty house within your mind

The distinct smell of something wafting in the air that’s familiar and sweet and warm and forgotten to your taste buds

Their voices muffled like hearing them rooms away, hearing but never distinguishing just what their saying

Your neighbour’s like blots of colour through the window as they tend a garden

Your old friends…..But did you have any in the first place?

You don’t know

You don’t know the answer to any of those questions anymore

But with the look in his eyes he knows you

But you don’t know him

And some sort of fear wraps around your heart

Squeezing it

Sweat running down your shaking form

Like a fawn in the jaws of a bear

Your head pounds with unease

You don’t know what to do

What are you supposed to say? Sorry I can’t remember you cause I’ve lived so long that I’ve began to forget stuff?!?

What do you do?!?

His eyes says he wants answers but even if you give him one you see the outcome

You see a possessiveness

Like a dragon and a horde

You’ll be stuck here like wano’s resident with the only difference in your case being that your given a special status

Like a prized pet

So

You run

Maybe it’s the cowards way out but this was coming either way

No matter how hard it always is

You knew this wasn’t forever and now your forced to do this

You have to die yet once more

Running through the halls with Kaido and many of his commanders on your tail isn’t a fun experience

But your small

And quick

And have ran for your life too many times to know your advantages here

Ducking and slide across wooden floors

You manage to loose them all after a small bit of running

Them splitting up to find you quicker

It’s too bad it ended up like this

Too bad you couldn’t leave on good terms

Or find that pull

But now comes the end

It’s ironic that it’s the balcony you sat on with king that one day

One that you were gonna jump off of regardless but now it’s not a trick where your crows would’ve caught you

And it’s even more iconic now that it’s king that notices you stand and then fall from that edge

But like before he catches you

Hand grabbing yours in an iron grip

His flame sparking up intensely

Your not sure what he’s feeling or what he’s saying

All you can focus on is static

And saying a small “I’m sorry” before slashing his hand with Maria’s hairpin

It cuts at the leather, for a moment you feel his human skin before you slip

Let go

And fall

His flame sparks up once more coming to the shape of that familiar four pointed star you’d see in moments once more

Gold light engulfing your vision

There’s a crack and then pain

And laying on the cold hard ground as blood pools

Reaching a bloody hand up you hold a small spark

Warm and familiar as you feel Maria pick you up in her own

It’s odd but she had been the closest thing you could compare to a mother

You wish you could’ve told her that but the spark holds your attention

Cradled in your palm

You bring it close to your chest in which it collides with

Sparks shoot out at the collision

Before a calm washes over you as cracks begin to form and you break away

“Oden?”

[b0xerdancer-writes]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 5

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that he's already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander, cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol, parental abuse, death, murder, arguing. Not proofread.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,570

Notes: Rhys and reader talk things out, Lucien is a soft boy and gives the best hugs. Shit starts getting real.

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

I had only ever been in Rhys’s office a handful of times since he took over after dad. He had remodeled it, gotten rid of any feeling that father had left in that room.  It felt so much colder to me in here now, it sent chills up my spine as I sat in the padded leather chair. The room was empty around me save for my bag that housed my book from earlier and quiet, eerily quiet that had me raking my eyes across every shelf, every nook, and every cranny in observation. 

Eventually the door creaked open and Rhys entered with a tray of cookies in one hand, I could hear the giggles before I saw him. Small pale hands wrapped around Rhys knee as  he tried to shoo Nyx off while he ‘had to deal with some work stuff’. Eventually the child relented, his wide eyes locking with mine like a deer in the headlights; before Rhys handed him half of a cookie and he scampered off.

I had always been distant with my family, it had started with our parents. Rhys favored our mother and saw our father as a bad person but it was the opposite with me, I favored our father and our mother despised me even threatened to clip my wings herself if it would get me out of her hair; I had ran to Rhys crying that night and he didn't believe me but when I told father the yelling within the house could be heard in every room. Rhys’s visits had become scarcer and scarcer after that, then he was sent to Windhaven and mother accompanied him. 

Then into the picture came Cassian and Azriel. I had nothing against them in the long run but they seemed to follow Rhys’s ideology too closely. They saw me as an expansion of my father, and oh how Rhys had told them about him but that I wasn't nearly as bad just needed a steer in the right direction. The only person who had seemed to see me as more than a daddy’s girl at this point was Eris, everytime father and I would show up in Autumn Court it was like a breath of fresh air and he just accepted me as I was. Eris had put his all into learning my interests and favorites, making sure he remembered them and surprising me with little things that I had mentioned here or there to him. 

It went downhill after the death of my mother and sister. I had never met my sister. At that point father insisted she and mother stay in Windhaven and after she reached a certain age then he would bring them to Velaris. We had been in Autumn when father got the news, I remembered the panic as Eris and I rushed back up to the Forest House, we had barely stepped through the gardens archway when father pulled me from Eris’s grasp; I had twisted my ankle in the rush and Eris was steadying me, I barely got the goodbye out of my mouth before we were winnowing. 

I had been to Windhaven only once or twice before my sister's birth. Father had warned me to stay away from it as most of them were brutes and that someone as gentle as I was had no business being there. I felt the chill before I saw the cause of it, as we appeared in windhaven the sight of a torn up cabin greeted us. Rhys was collapsed in the snow on his knees, Cassian and Azriel either side trying to comfort him but grieving themselves. At father’s appearance the boys stilled and tensed either side of Rhys, Rhys looked up at father’s approaching steps. My own smaller ones behind his, blood was splattered on the snow around the entrance and on Rhys’s hands. The grief in my brother's eyes and the blood was enough for me to guess what had happened to a degree. They were dead, murdered I surmised by the violence around me. Father held his hand out in a motion I knew meant to stop and stay where I was, and he pushed through the cabin door; the smell of death and iron was thick but disappeared as soon as the door closed. All three males shot me a look of sympathy and pain as I placed my own hand on Rhys with a small sad smile meant to comfort him in my own way. 

I had hated to admit it to myself but I had accepted her death a long time before it had happened. I had accepted it the night she had threatened to rip my wings from me, she had bruised my shoulders with the strength of her grasp as she shook me and screamed at me. The day she moved back to Windhaven was a relief to me, it no longer felt like walking on eggshells, but I would never tell Rhys that.

Father came out of the cabin tense, it must have been brutal whatever it was. To others the look would seem incredibly cold, and I would bet Rhys thought that as well but to me I knew what was happening behind his cold exterior. He was accepting grief, he  might not have loved her nowadays but he had wanted to once, then she simply saw him as a captor and never gave him a real chance and that she was simply doing her duty to her high lord, and had only ever been cold to him. He had told me that late one night after we returned from Autumn Court, a night the bond in my chest ached so desperately I had ended up crying in his arms. 

Father steeled himself for a moment, but yet patted Rhys’s shoulder as he walked by towards where other illyrians had started gathering including the camp lord. He exchanged words with them before he nodded at them and shook hands with the camp lord.  A few minutes passed before he was pulling Rhys to his feet with a simple shoulder pat and with a nod he pulled me into his side and we were winnowing back to Velaris. I didn’t hear anything else about Windhaven, Rhys, or mother for a while after that.

Before I knew it, my father was disappearing into the underground portion of our court to discuss business with his brother.  It was nearly a month after mother’s death before we visited Autumn Court again, when we finally did and I was meeting with father in the living room, He was looking at me sadly even though I was ecstatic  if I had done my math correctly it would be announced today that Eris and I were to be engaged and wed soon after that. I had simply summed up the sadness in his eyes as the fact he was sad he would be letting me go, the grief of a father losing his daughter to a husband. I could not have been further from correct.

I should have sensed something was off when Eris didn't greet me as excitedly. Instead this day would be full of tears and my stunned silence until I made it home. Eris had cried in my lap as he told me and begged me not to hate him or leave him. I had known about his fathers abuse growing rapidly with every one of his brothers that had been born. I had made a deal with him then and there that I would never be able to hate him, that I would never leave him alone, and that I would always be there. 

When we had winnowed back into the house, all I did was simply sink to the floor as the sobs began to wash over me. Father had wrapped me in his arms and sat on the floor with me rocking, apologizing repeatedly begging me to forgive him. He had sobbed into my hair as he held me that he couldn't lose me too and that though I had every right to hate him that he'd figure out some way to make it up to me. It would never return to the way it had been now that Mor was in the picture.

It had been a rough night after that, the pain in my chest made it hard to sleep, so I had gone down to warm some tea and honey to dull the ache and lul me back to sleep. Instead as I rounded the corner into the living room I was greeted by the sight of Rhys and father touching foreheads, father had one hand wrapped around the back of Rhys’s head pulling him to him. They had both looked up as I entered, they were dressed in fighting leathers black as the inky sky outside. Father had simply beckoned me over and lifted my head by my chin with a sad smile, I had learned that meant something isn't sitting right with him, something was making him anxious. He mentioned they would be back in the early hours of the morning and patted me on the shoulder as Rhys and him disappeared into the world around them as they winnowed, it left a smell like fresh roses. I had understood what was going on without him saying anything, he was going to get revenge for his mate. A pit quickly grew in my stomach, as I stirred the honey into my mug of tea. 

I had stayed up for them that night, anything past Rhys showing back up alone, the obvious signs and scent of becoming Highlord clung to him, was a massive blur. Blood clung to him, and he had given me a sad look and shook his head, I had screamed and sobbed, Rhys had held me there silent and covered in blood as I cried, like he had cried for mother. 

I had become a loner after that, Azriel and Cassian moved into the house, it wasn't as quiet anymore but it had stopped feeling like home that night. Rhys updated the wards around the house, no more winnowing in or out anymore, and said it was for protection. Shortly after that Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys were dragging Mor into the house as she bled out, the scent of autumn clung to her skin.  I had rushed past them out towards the balcony, manifesting my wings to rush down to Velaris so I could winnow to the Autumn Court, to mine and Eris’s spot. I had comforted Eris that day, rage bubbling just under my skin.

I had become bitter with Mor since I had heard the lie she told, since the second she began slandering my mate. I grew closer with Azriel, and Cassian slowly yet surely till I could consider them brothers myself. I couldn't remember when we picked up Amren along the way, but she made life in the house more bearable. Then Amarantha came and I lost my brother for 50 years. I had bought an apartment after a week of hearing Mor bitch at every dinner, after a week of Cassian and Azriel being distant and emotionally unavailable. I hadn’t been at the house  when he showed up murmuring about his mate, I hadn’t even known till the next day when he showed up at my door murmuring about how I moved but he needed me and was asking me to move back into the house; I sold the apartment without a second thought and was back into my old room, Mor was still everywhere so I opted to stay in my room. 

The next few years of my life seemed to rush by, Feyre, Nesta, and Elain joining our circle, well Rhys’s circle. At the beginning I had gotten along with feyre well, and I was still thankful to her for rekindling the flame in my brother but when Elain had treated Lucien the way she did I had snapped at her, I still saw Lucien as the shy young male that hid behind Eris’s legs when he first introduced us. My breaking point with Elain was when Lucien returned from a rough time in Spring and needed a good hug; I had pulled him into one and Elain, despite openly confessing she wanted nothing to do with him and clinging onto Azriel’s arm, had made a comment about how I must have been desperate to go after a male with a mate. It was after she had seen me and Azriel laughing both sweaty and laying on the floor by the training ring and had made a comment about how Azriel was taken and that I needed to stop trying to whore myself out to him.  Azriel had shot her a look of surprise at her answer, and had defended me in saying that wasn't what was happening but shortly after that I stopped training with them entirely. 

Lucien and I had gotten our own apartment shortly after, it had been my idea due to the suffocating feeling the House of the Wind had become anymore, he agreed since he was looking into getting one himself anyways. Elain shot me a dirty look anytime I was in the same room as her nowadays, but wouldnt say a thing to me after I yelled back at her and called her some not so pleasant things. Nesta had completely stopped talking with me after that, and Feyre rarely did anymore unless it was on Rhys’s behalf or on business. Needless to say that due to that strain, I had never been close with my nephew and had only seen him a handful of times since his birth.

I was shaken from my thoughts as Rhys held a cookie out to me, the promise ring on my hand glinting as I reached to take it. Rhys pulled the cookie back, dropping it onto the tray as he grabbed my hand from the air. He turned my hand every which way to observe the ring. 

“Eris really out did himself here really.” It was meant to be under his breath but the tone it came out in sounded poisonous. 

I pulled my hand back from his quickly. “Yes he did, is there a problem with it brother? I agreed to help him.” I’ll admit it came out as a hiss.

Rhys lifted his hands into the air in surrender. “Woah, woah, sorry didn't mean it to sound like that. Just made me realize how desperate he really is.”

“He's trying to reform his court Rhys! He might have to take a few more steps to do so than you did, but you did the same thing when you took over after father died.” A low blow admittedly but it worked.

“Sorry, you're right. I just wanted to check where you are standing on all of this. It's a big ask of you.” His voice was calm,his voice he used for business, void of emotion. He sat the cookies on his desk and took a seat in his chair opposite me.

“He told you I agreed, So you know where I stand. He has always been a close friend to me, if he needs my help why would I tell him no.” He didn’t need to know the whole truth.

Rhys took a deep breath in and dropped his head into his hands. “Your right, you two have always been close. I just thought tensions might be high after your blow up at Rita’s.”

My blow up?

My.

Blow.

Up?

I growled and stood quickly slamming my hands onto his desk and he leaned back in his chair with a flinch as he looked up at me. “My Blow Up? Rhysand. It was you who allowed them to speak to him like that. Do you believe my judgment to be so flawed that I can't decide who I trust with MY well-being?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, just you went off on everyone at that table. Including Mor, and she deserves your anger least, it was him who let her come into harm's way.”

I saw red for a second as the growl rumbled in my chest and I slammed my talons into his mental shield and he hissed at the contact. “Rhysand, mother above, you are the daftest fucking male I know. To fucking high on your horse to realize you are no fucking better than him. None of you are. Do you even know the truth behind what happened to those two? I guarantee you don't because if so you would be giving Cassian looks of pity, not Mor.”

Rhys slammed his own hands palm down on his desk and stood up, looking down on me to try and intimidate me into calm. “No better than he is? Please that male is nothing but his father’s son. Why would I give Cassian looks of pity? Because Mor used him? We all know that.”

His talons scraped along my shield but I didn't even wince, one thing father had made sure I was thoroughly trained on was daemati powers, from the second the power had manifested in me. It was one subject I was confident I had a one up on Rhys in.

I scoffed loudly, a bitter laugh falling from my mouth as I raked my talons across his shield again, a warning and a reminder. “You absolute fucking hypocrite Rhysand. Nothing but his father’s son? Look in the fucking mirror, or the fucking ouroboros for all I care and you will see you are the exact same. Didn’t you make a whole point when you became high lord, especially with the Court of Nightmares actually, that you were just as cold as you said father was? Did you not step back and put Feyre on display under the mountain like how Mor was on display just to save you and everyone here?”

He flinched but knew I was right so even though he opened his mouth to rebuttal he didn't push through when I sunk my talons into his shield cracking it. “No. You don't get to speak hypocrite. Mor has you all in her fucking pocket in regards to that damn story,” I shoved my wrist in his face, the butterfly tattoo on display. “I made a damn bargain with her when she realized I knew, I told her she has to come clean to you all and especially Cassian, and no I will not explain why it is not my place to tell that story, soon in exchange she promised that she will no longer be slandering Eris and if she catches any of you slandering him she is to shut it down.”

His eyes widened as he looked at the wine red butterfly. “You're his mate. Aren’t you?” His voice was barely audible but I had caught it still.

“How?” My eyes widened, and my talons slipped from their grasp.

“You defend him so viciously, and without a single thought or doubt. You tear down anyone who seeks to tear him down, even if it puts yourself at risk to be hurt. Like I do with Feyre now, or Cassian with Nesta.”

I was stunned into silence. Was I really that obvious?

“That book you were reading, about soulmates and the likeness, you were reading it about him I assume? He doesn't know, does he?”He whispered it, his own eyes still wide. I felt his talons tap on my shield asking to be let in, and I pushed back against him in refusal.

“Stay out of my head Rhys.” I hissed. “When did you realize?” I couldn’t have been that obvious, could I? Both Rhys and Lucien had figured it out within 2 days of me and Eris being back around each other.

“Just now, honestly, I just pieced it together. When you mentioned Feyre and I realized if I had seen all those eyes on her now, I would have reacted the same way as you.” His voice softened as he spoke, as the reality hit him. “How long have you known you were his mate?”

“Since we were 12.” I mumbled and looked down.

“Oh. By the mother, that's why you were always so violent towards Mor. Cauldron we were all so blind to the reason behind your rage. I’m sorry.” He sat down and I felt him pull back out of my mind completely.

I took a step back from the desk, the backs of my knees touching the leather chair. I met his eyes, disdain and anger in my own eyes. “If only it started there Rhys. Imagine if you had lost Feyre to Tamlin right after you had just gotten her here that first time. Imagine the pain that would have caused you, now imagine that pain gets worse every time you have to walk away from her with an unsolidified bond for over 500 years.” My words were venom to him. 

His eyes found mine and he seemed like he wanted to cry. “I… I couldn’t imagine Moonbeam. I’m sorry, though I know my apology is nothing to aid the pain you have felt for that long.” 

I crossed my arms over myself, retracting into myself. I had gotten my anger out, I just wanted to retire to my apartment now, just wanted to cook dinner in the kitchen with Lucien while we sang whatever songs popped in our heads. “Remember that Rhys, the next time you want to judge him, and you mock me for defending him. You and him are two sides of the same coin. I have defended him for over 500 years, I will defend him for 500 more even if I’m putting myself at risk. No questions asked. I vowed that to him when we were younger; the day we were told he was to marry Mor I made a bargain that I would never leave him alone in this world, that I would never hate him and that I would always be there if he needed me.

Rhys simply nodded. “I get it Moonbeam. I’d do the same for Feyre if she asked.”

I nodded and looked at the floor. “I know you would Rhys, you aren’t a bad male and neither is Eris. You just have to see past his own mask. I’ve just been lucky and honored to see past it from the get go.”

Rhys looked at his desk, defeated and probably rethinking his actions towards Eris through again. I picked my bag up from the couch and flung it over my shoulder, I wrapped a couple cookies in a napkin and tossed them into a smaller pocket in my bag. 

As I was about to push the door open Rhy cleared his throat. “Does he know?” I shook my head and he sighed. “Okay. I trust you, you know what you're doing acting like you've been courting him right?”

I let out a sad short laugh. “Actually Rhys I honestly don’t have a clue. But he needs me. He asked me to do this for him, and why would I tell him no? I know I’ll probably get hurt in the long run, but what if it's the exact opposite? What if we go through this whole thing and he realizes one day suddenly that I'm his mate, that it's always been me? I can't give up hope because I might break my own heart. I can’t be selfish like that Rhys. If I get hurt I get hurt, but at least I still have him in my life somehow.”

Rhys nodded. “Be careful, okay? I'll always be here with cookies and the stars.”

I pushed the door open softly and looked back over my shoulder at him sadly. “I hate to burst your big brother and father mentality bubble right now Rhys, but you stopped being there before you left for Windhaven. You stopped being there after mother snapped at me, don’t try to be now please.” I let the door click behind me. 

The walk to the balcony was quick, the early night chill greeted me as I manifested my wings and flew down towards the landing of my apartment. I landed on the metal steps right before the small porch area me and Lucien had set up with a small table and two chairs, the wards whirred as they unlocked and music greeted me as I pushed the door open. Lucien was home, thank the mother Lucien was home, I needed a good fucking hug after that shitshow with Rhys. 

Music blasted from the kitchen, from the little enchanted mechanism Lucien had brought home with him a couple missions ago. His bright orange hair was pulled into a loose messy bun on top of his head, and he greeted me brightly spatula in hand, though once he had looked me over he set it down and rounded the counters enveloping me into a hug.

“You look like you had a shit day, what happened.” He rubbed my back softly.

I would die for Lucien’s hugs, he gave the best ones in the entirety of Prythian. “Rhys found out about the bond between me and Eris.”

“Oh?” He sounded worried

“Yeah.” Simple, easy.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He'd make us spiked cider tonight and we'd forget this evening happened.

“He tried to talk down on Eris.” Anger, yet I hadn’t the energy to be angry.

“You beat his ass?” A sweet effort to make me laugh, and it actually worked.

“Close enough, I put him in his place for sure.” I snickered into his shoulder.

“That's my sister that I know.” He snarked.

I shoved his shoulder and pushed away from him. “I’m not your sister.” 

“Correction: Not yet.” He snickered loudly.

I rolled my eyes at him “I'm gonna go change.” I took my bag off my shoulder, grabbing the wrapped cookies and pressing them to him. He happily took them, popping one into his mouth and sitting the rest on the counter, I sat my bag on the coffee table. 

“Oh!” He waved his cookie at me. “You had a delivery come while you were out.”

“Just my dress Luc, wanna see it?” I raised my brow at him.

“Ohhh there is so much more than ‘Just a dress’ there love. There was only one bag from here. The rest are autumn court tried and true. Gifts from my brother I have no doubt.” He smirked at me.

“Luc… What am I about to find in my room? How much stuff is in there?” I questioned.

“Just your dress, and stuff to get our new roommate adjusted to life in night court.” He hummed smugly.

“OUR NEW ROOMMATE? LUCIEN WHAT AM I ABOUT TO FIND IN MY ROOM?” my eyes widened.

“I don’t know you haven’t named him yet.” He disappeared back into the kitchen and I turned down the hall to rush into my room.

I pushed the door open slowly just enough to peek into my room, low and behold I heard a happy little bark.  A few bags were stacked on my bed, a small fluffy bed was laid on the floor and happily nested in it was a small fluffy shadow hound.

“By the fucking Cauldron. LUCIEN WHAT THE FUCK.” Lucien’s laugh echoed down the hallway from the kitchen.

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbatboydreams @abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638 @azriels-mate2 @sassyslytherinshai

@sparksandstarss @pandabiiissh @saltedcoffeescotch

@cirwin2013 @minnieoo @easchies @melsunshine

@sweetcarolina-24 @florenceivy @inloveallthetime

[trikruismybitch]

Moving On By Letting Go

inspired by clip i saw from the show "scenes from a marriage" and the song "August" by Taylor Swift.

It's raining out just a light drizzle but enough to make the air cold. But here you are bundled up with an umbrella when you walk up to her.

"Hey Nat i know its been awhile but i really need to get this off my chest." You take a steading breathe making sure to collect your thoughts before starting.

"I've met someone else, and it was hard moving on because i always end up coming back to you but this time it's real. Not some fucked up coping mechanism to get over you or forget about you, or to push everything away. She helps me and makes me confront my shit in a healthy way." You wipe your nose. You can't tell if it's from you crying or the cold, probably both.

"So, it's just different" you shrug "An entirely different kind of love" than the one we had you think "I remember, someone saying, that it was like a piece of tape that you rip off and try to reapply. It'll stick again maybe but it won't be like the first time."

And maybe thats for the better. With you and Nat there was always hope for maybes and eventualities. Nothing about your future together was ever written in stone, hope for a future where you both were more than just hero's who loved each other.

But Natasha was stuck in that life no matter how hard you tried to lull her to peace, she was stuck on cleaning the red in her ledger, which is why you guys are stuck the way you are now.

"You have to know I'll never love anybody the way that i loved you" Your voice cracks but you continue "It's a fact. With you, breaking up was never on the table. It would never even have occurred to me." You laugh lightly as if the thought of it was funny. "I just never thought you'd be the one to leave me." Your body racks with sobs. You drop the umbrella to reach out to her with both hands, but she's cold. Why? You always remember her being so warm, yet here she is all thats left of her, a headstone with her name on it and the memories of everyone left who loved her.

[dwindlinghaze]

Hello! Soo I was wondering if I could request a RemusxReader oneshot/blurb with this scenario. Hear me out:

Reader openly talking to the girls about her crush on Remus she as had for years and just being so casual talking about how much she likes him and thinks he's amazing and hot, and how much she loves him (practically me simping for Rem) and she isn't embarrassed cuz she's known Lily and Marlene for years and they're used to talk like that and tease each other kindly (they usually do it to Lily). But they don't know that Remus and the boys are "accidentally" listening to their conversation.

Lmk what you think! Thankyou ly, byebye <3

moon river

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fluff, the marauders being nosy af and eavesdropping, bad writing and not proofread :(

a/n : hello anon!!! ty so so much for the request and im so so sorry for taking so long in writing it. but hey i am here and im at your service ;) i rly hope u like this and it fulfilled what you asked for ☁️☁️

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"[y/n] are you free tonight? or does loverboy has to take you away before midnight?" marlene said, linking your arms together as you two walked inside the common room.

"yes... why?"

"charms."

"charms?"

"assignment."

"oh-"

"yes."

"charms assignment that you need me to help you with?"

"obviously,"

"ah fine," you eyes slowly averted to the smile of none other that remus lupin. your mind goes fuzzy all of a sudden. he was joking and laughing with james in front of the fireplace. "he looks so happy today," you whispered to yourself, smiling.

"aww, you care about his happiness! just make out already," marlene said, wiggling her thick brows.

"that's one step beyond. not ethical," you shook your head in a mocking manner. "where's lily by the way? is she up here already?"

marlene shrugged as she opened the door to the dormitory, letting the warm air hit both of their faces.

later that night, you were helping marlene out on the charms essay and let's just say... it wasn't going as planned.

"marl, it's not how it is. you have to read the whole thing first then make your own summary about it so professor flitwick won't accuse you of plagiarism."

"but there's too many! why isn't there a charms to shorten paragraphs," she whined like a child on the sidewalk when their moms didn't get ice cream.

"liliana, help me over here. marl doesn't want to read,"

"i doing my eye mask, can't stand up," she reasoned stupidly.

"eye masks stick to your under eyes. yes you can stand up without them falling off. i wish remus was here, he can probably summarise four pages in just two minutes, he's incredibly smart," you closed your little tired eyes.

"if remus was here, he wont be teaching me anything, he would be too busy with you," marlene scoffed, although she is teasing.

"that's right," lily agreed. "remember this morning when [y/n] dropped mashed potatoes on his head? he didn't even blame her! he was blushing."

"also in dada, didn't you see remus was basically mumbling a mantra to be partnered up with [y/n], that's so sweet," marlene continued in a teasing voice, her charms assignment completely tossed of to the side.

you think to yourself, a conversation about remus late at night is way more interesting than charms. so you didn't budge. "aw yea he did, i saw," you cheeks turned crimson as you smile.

"isn't he just so... beautiful? i never look at anyone- except for my barbie dolls when i was five- this way. he is just right in every way."

"mhmmm keep going my love," marlene replied, after noticing a slight crack in the door with the marauders behind it. they were appalled when marlene saw them but marlene stays quiet, sending a wink their way.

at first, they were up here because james wanted to return lily's hair clip in which the boy slyly stole during class for this moment. but the others insisted to go up to see her reaction for some reason.

remus wouldn't complain though. he got to hear what the girl he loves for so much has to say bout him when he's not around.

your back was facing the door with your legs crossed over your chest and you hugging them. "his face may be pretty, but i think his heart is way prettier. for god's sake he holds my hand when i was anxious for that history presentation! he knows my needs so well."

"yes, that's so kind of him," lily urged for you to continue so she can tease you about it the next morning in front of remus lupin.

"and the best part is, remus respects women! he treats me like how i treat the girls and women around me. that's the hottest thing a guy could ever do," you dazed out, burying your face in between your kneecaps.

"ugh we love a respectful king, don't we girls!" marlene said purposely loud so remus can hear the conversation wide and clear from the door. his eyes were basically making heart eyes at the back of your head, his smile is like he had just won a contest and to hide that would be so dishonest.

"i told you to get her on a date sooner, she is the one!" sirius nudged remus rather harshly, but he was too focused on you.

"but what i don't like about him is the fact that he thinks he's not worthy of anything. he is. he deserves the biggest apology and happiness there ever was. he is like a moon river. i would roll my ship at night just to see the sparkles that he got. my huckleberry friend."

"isn't that enough to confirm that [y/n] loves you back, remus?" marlene shouted, her vision straight to the door.

your eyes widened in panic as your blood rushed into your cheeks. was remus hearing all of this? oh no freaking way- he can't be!

the door swung open, revealing the marauders who were standing with their jaws on the floor.

"i'm going out," lily spoke up, slipping out the door with james running after her like a lost puppy.

"you better do something," marlene winked at remus as she pushed him inside the room. remus nodded numbly, processing on what just happened. marlene was already dragging sirius down to give their friends privacy.

"hey, can i come in?"

"gosh i'm so sorry you heard all of that! you don't understand how embarrassing it is for me right now. i wish to disappear!" you scrunched your face, mortified by what his reactions may be.

"listen, uh, what you said were- it really makes me happy that you think of me that way because... so do i! i've been scared to say anything because i just- wasn't sure if you like me that way or not..."

"well, you heard it... what am i going to do now," you whispered the last part under your breath.

lucky for remus, he's got super hearing powers due to his lycanthropy so he heard that as clear as the sky is blue. "we can do what girlfriend and boyfriend do," remus answered shyly, playing with the end of your blanket that dropped from your bed.

"excuse me ma'am, you haven't asked me for dinner yet and now we're girlfriend and boyfriend?" you said in a joking manner to ease the tension out.

"okay let's do baby steps. come here, m'love, want to hold my girl," he opened his arms with his eyes closed. does he even know how cute he is right now?

[dani-says-stuff]

You Belong With Me

❥ Back to the Control Center

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: it's a Taylor Swift You Belong With Me songfic... i think that's pretty self explanatory

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language (use of words like "slut" and "whore"), slight abusive relationship between steve and a made up character, slight cringe, angst, fluff, miscommunication, the standard grammar warning~

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You had known Steve "The Hair" Harrington all your life.

Before he was a single mother, the King of Hawkins High, and long before the various girlfriends over the years, there was you.

Back when he was just a nervous little boy in baggy button-down polo shirts and half-brushed bangs hanging down over his brows. Back when he was certain the world was a large, scary place he wasn't quite ready for. Back when his nervous twitchy hands would play with the hemlines of his shorts as he gathered the courage to speak. Back when he was a proud hopeless romantic years away from his first heartbreak, there was you, Y/N, his best friend.

You'd known him for as long as you could remember- in fact, longer than even that. You couldn't quite pinpoint when your friendship began. For all you knew, Steve simply appeared out of thin air one day and the rest was history. 

But he knew. 

He could vividly remember the day, no matter how many years had passed by, Steve would always remember the day he met you.

It was a sunny day on the kindergarten playground, and he was sitting all by himself on the swings, passing time as he kicked the mulch below his feet with his shoes. He was a shy kid and chose to let himself enjoy the quiet when he could.

That was back when his parents were around more often, carting him around to their business meetings and crowded dinner parties. Steve would learn to love the attention later in his life, but at a young age, the noise was terrifying and intimidating. Of course, his self-isolation was a bit lonely at times, but it was worth it. It's not like a child really knew what loneliness was at that age anyway. 

His peace was disturbed when some kid from his class found him in his swing-set sanctuary and decided to drag him into their game of tag. He reluctantly joined the game and found it to be not as bad as he thought. He was a relatively fast and lean kid, which proved to be a huge advantage that allowed him to win the first few rounds.

Steve was being chased by the tagger for the eleventh or twelfth time, when everything went downhill. The lead he'd gained closed rapidly when his shoe clipped the edge of the wood beam separating the mulch area from the grass. He tripped, stumbling over and skidding across the rough, hot pieces of mulch.

The kid behind him didn't seem to care that his target had fallen and had begun to cry as his jeans slowly stained red, the kid only cared that this meant he could win. The boy ran up to little Steve, slapped the back of his shoulder, and was off again. 

At the time, you were playing with a different group of friends over by the tree roots.

It was a strange sort of 'house' game where you 'slept' amongst the trees and went to forage for 'food' or 'magical ingredients' throughout the day. You were bent down, ripping up clumps of onion grass and little dandelion flowers to bring back home when you saw the boy fall. You didn't know who he was, just that he needed help. You dropped the various plants you had collected and ran over to help him. 

By the time Steve had rolled over, off his now-skinned hands and knees, he found you hovering over him. He couldn't speak, he didn't know what to say or what to do, but he knew he was crying. 

You wiped your dirty hands on your pants before you gently took his elbow, helping the boy up to his feet. You guided him inside, spoke to the teachers on his behalf, and walked him down to the nurse's office. You stayed by his side as the woman cleaned his cuts and let him squeeze your hand as she removed the splinters gained from the mulch scraps. 

You didn't remember, but he would never forget how you helped him, stayed with him, and comforted him more as a stranger than those he was close to ever had.  ━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You didn't know for certain, but if you had to guess, you'd say your feelings began shifting somewhere around freshman year. That's when you found yourself praying that maybe he would choose you as the next try at love, not the girl who always waved with a soft giggle from across the hallway. 

But he chose her, every single time. 

It didn't matter who this mysterious 'her' was, because it was never you.

If only you knew, the only reason 'she' was even there to begin with, was because you always seemed just too unattainable in his eyes. 

He only had 'her' because he was so certain he couldn't have you.

You were too good for him, you always had been. You were always the pretty princess he had imagined throughout childhood, far away in the kingdom living up in the castle. Meanwhile, he was only the stable boy or coachman who was lucky to get a glimpse of you.

If only you knew he'd felt that way for years. Years of him hoping you'd change the way you looked at him from friends to something more. Years that slowly began to grate on him, until eventually, he gave up altogether.

Maybe then, you wouldn't be finding yourself struggling through high school by his side, feeling every bit the opposite of the vision he saw for you. 

In high school, he was the king and you were the lowly servant he somehow dragged up to his ranks. You waited, walking eternally by his side destined to be the second choice. The first choice always tended to be the girlfriend- what else would you expect from a boy who just wanted to find his love- who in turn would choose to go hang out with Tommy, Carol, and the rest of the Hawkins's High royalty.

You would then be left all alone in your room whenever the group went to hang out or go to parties. It wasn't that Steve didn't invite you, in fact, he never failed to extend an invitation to you, you just declined.

Tommy and Carol would make sly comments behind your back, and the girl Steve would date usually had some sort of issue with you as well, claiming you were trying to steal Steve away from her... it was easier, in the end, to just not go than to subject yourself to a night of torture that would inevitably end with Steve feeling responsible for your discomfort. 

Things got a little better when Nancy came along. 

She was far more secure in herself than Steve's other girlfriends over the years had been, meaning you were finally able to be around your best friend again without her screaming at you out of jealousy. Nancy was also able to break him away from the absolute assholes he didn't have the heart to separate himself from. 

But then they broke up. Nancy quickly moved on to Jonathan Byers and Steve was left heartbroken once more. 

However, you would've taken Nancy- who was currently on your blacklist for how she treated Steve at the end of their relationship- over Veronica in a heartbeat. 

Veronica, was Steve's newest distraction from his leftover feelings for the Wheeler girl, and your worst nightmare. 

He met her when he was working at Scoops, somehow out of everyone he flirted with over that stupid ice cream counter, she just had to be the one that the words stuck with. 

Imagine the worst bitch you can, and then multiply that by a thousand. Multiple Heather Chandlers bundled up into one absolute demon of a person- that was Veronica Mayer. 

Crimson Lipstick, tight shirts, and skin-tight pants. Long hair she whipped over her shoulder as she struts away. Mini skirts and sleek high heels. She could say or do whatever the hell she wished, she could violently insult others and not bat an eye, but god forbid you said anything mildly mean around her- suddenly she'd become a saint.

Steve had invited you to go see a movie one day, when she decided to tag along last minute. She said the most vile things about the girl working at the ticket stand. As soon as Steve left you two alone so he could use the bathroom, Veronica had leaned down, whispering into your ear as she called the girl an attention whore and a slut just because of her shirt, which scooped the smallest bit when she leaned over to grab the tickets. 

All it took was you snapping back that it was "rich coming from you" for Veronica to bust out in tears. Streaks of mascara making their way down her cheeks. She threw herself into Steve's arms the moment he reappeared, claiming you were attacking and chastising her for how she looked. 

Steve didn't really know what to do, he looked confused as his eyes connected with yours over Veronica's head. It was clear, in his expression at least, that he didn't really believe that you would've said anything like his girlfriend was describing unprovoked. But, rather than say anything, he chose to simply rub her back and console her instead.  

She would do this over and over until you decided, just like with Tommy and Carol, it just wasn't worth it anymore.

You tried to explain to Steve that she wasn't good for him, you tried to get him to see it, but she was never her worst when he was watching... and the boy was forever an optimist. He remained wary of the issues he was told of, but she couldn't really be that bad... right?

Veronica was using that to her advantage, staying in his good graces while she pushed everyone else away from him. At one point, she even claimed that Robin was trying to "get with her" and that she didn't feel comfortable hanging out with the younger girl anymore because of "her obsession with her". 

But, when Veronica had no one left to be snarky with when Steve was around, it was only natural for her to turn it on him. 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

You were in your room reading a few chapters of a book Robin had recommended to you before bed, when you heard a quick tapping against your window. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you would've blamed it on the wind moving the branches of the large tree in your backyard to tap against the glass, but the noise was too consistent for that. You crept out of your sheets, cringing at the cool air, and made your way over to your window. 

When pulling back your curtains, you were met with the somber expression of your best friend crouched on the outside windowsill. You quickly unlocked the window and pushed up the glass, letting him in. 

As he clambered in and fell onto your plush carpet flooring, you were hit with a large sense of deja vu. Steve transformed into his twelve-year-old self before your eyes, sprawled out across the floor huffing and puffing about how that was much harder than he expected. You had mentioned he could've used the door back then, and were met with the very same statement all these years later. 

He turned his head, face screwed up as if his choice were obvious and you were the crazy one, "That would've been too easy. This was more fun..." he trailed off, "And quieter."

You put your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow as you looked down at him, "Steve, we're not teenagers anymore, you can use the front door. I'm an adult, I don't think my parents would care-"

He shook his head quickly, "Absolutely not. Your Dad is terrifying, I'm not risking that." 

You laughed softly, moving to sit on the end of your bed, stopping him the moment he moved to follow you, "Nope." you pushed him back, "Absolutely not, you have dirt all over you from climbing up that tree. You can stay on the floor." 

The boy pouted, looking at you with wide puppy dog eyes, "Oh come on Y/N," he whined, "You used to let me."

You shook your head, standing your ground as you pointed to your bottom drawer, "No dirt in my bed. You can look in there, see if anything still fits if you want to sit on my bed that much."

His eyes widened in horror, "But- but those are from like five years ago." 

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Soon he was sitting beside you in a pair of borderline too-tight sweatpants that ended right above his ankles and an old bright green Hawkins Middle School Swim Team T-shirt that might as well have been a crop top. 

He slumped over almost immediately, collapsing into your side with his head resting against your shoulder in exhaustion. 

You moved your hand up, messing with his soft brown hair, "What's wrong Steve."

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes at your touch, "You were right."

"I usually am." you smirked, "but humor me, what was it this time?" 

"Veronica was a jerk."

You noticed he was talking in past tense... which could only mean...

"She broke up with me." 

You quickly wrapped your arms around him, "Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry."

"Nah, it's fine." he replied almost immediately, "it was a long time coming. Honestly, I should've broken up with her a lot sooner."

You pulled back, looking him in the eyes and scanning over his face, "What happened?"

"To be honest" he laughed breathlessly, shaking his head, "I don't really know."

You both laughed briefly before he tried to explain further, "Like we were at this stupid party right? For some reason, I guess someone drunkenly suggested Karaoke was a good idea - and you remember Tammy? Tammy Thompson from high school?" he continued when you nodded, "Well, you remember how she was. So I mentioned - how we always did - that she sounded like a muppet... and for some reason that set her off. There was a whole argument that was mostly one-sided..." he trailed off, brows furrowed and staring at the ceiling as if it would tell him what happened. 

Steve shook his head and shrugged, reconnecting his hand with your own, "Yeah, no, I have no clue." he brushed it off, "I probably did something though that started it" he mumbled, "I usually do."

"What do you mean?" 

He sighed, dragging a hand over his face, "Well you know," he trailed off somberly, "That's the only thing that really makes sense right?" 

"I still don't-"

"That it's me." he whispered miserably, "Nothing ever works out no matter how hard I try and the only common thread is, well, me. I don't even know what I did, and that's probably part of the issue."

"Steve Harrington, you stop that right now."

His eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you in confusion, "Huh?"

"You are not the issue," you spoke assertively, pulling up from where he lounged against you so he could look you straight in the eyes. You grabbed his cheeks, making sure he was looking at you before you spoke, "I don't know what she said that got to you so bad, but you are not the issue, ok? Nothing is wrong with you. You are perfect, you hear me?" 

He simply scoffed, pulling away from your grasp, "It's not just her." He stood up and began pacing about the room, "It's not just Veronica, ok Y/N? I mess everything up. That's just a plain fact."

"No, it's not-"

"-Yes it is!" he interrupted, trying his best not to yell. "I-I just don't get it. I'm just such a screw up I can't get anything to work out! I mean I've been trying for years and everything just turns out a failure!"

He yanked at his hair as he paced before he sudenly stopped. His hands dropped miserably to his sides as he turned to you, "Why can't anybody love me?" he whispered brokenly, "Is it really that hard for someone to love me?"

"What are you talking about? Plenty of people love you-"

"But not the way I want." he groaned, frustrated struggling to find the words to explain how he felt, "My parents love me because I'm their kid, not because I'm their kid. Nancy loved me at the time, but that didn't last obviously. Veronica loved me because of what I could give her, not for anything real. Tommy and Carol loved me because I was popular, not because of who I was. You..." he trailed off, choosing to simply stare at you rather than feel the embarassment from finishing his sentence.

Your face fell, and your heart dropped. "What? Steve, I love you, what do you mean-"

He looked down, half embarrassed and half shameful. "As a friend." he spoke so quietly you could barely hear him. 

"Exactly." you stood, trying to approach him even as he dodged your advances, "Your my best friend, I will always-"

"See?" he laughed sadly, and spoke in a breaking voice, "You love me, but not the way I want." 

"I don't understand" 

He avoided your gaze, looking instead to your wall covered in Polaroid photos, cataloging the years you both had spent together rather than meeting your eyes. 

His face flushed, he felt, once again, like the shy and skittish boy he met you as years ago. 

"I-" he breathed heavily shaking his head, "I love you. but not the way you love me." he finally looked at you, his brown eyes reflecting every bit of sadness and heartbreak he felt in every part of his soul, "I love you, but not as a friend." he whispered, grabbing your hands, "I love-love you. I'm in love with you." 

You looked up at him and your heart shattered. "Steve-"

He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head in rejection, "I knew it."

"No, no, no" you rushed, holding onto his hands tightly as they fought to slip out of your own, "It just- you've just broken up with Veronica. I want to be with you, but I don't want to be a distraction." 

At that, Steve let out a soft but genuine laugh. The kind of laugh that you felt like you hadn't heard in forever. "Y/N, if anything they were a distraction from you." 

With that, he leaned down, decreasing the distance between your faces. "Y/N?" he spoke softly on an exhale, staring into your eyes, "Can I-"

You didn't give him any time to respond, you smiled wide as you reached up clasping your hands around his neck, "Yes."

You dragged him down, matching giddy smiles adorning both of your faces as your lips connected for the first, and far from the last, time.

[soapoet]

how are you, october?

+3 Taylor Swift songs each because she's striving and so should you.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

Soapy scribbles: I already did a general energy reading for this autumn season here, but there's quite a bit of energies at play this autumn, so I felt the need to look at October specifically as it feels very important.

01.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift ‐ Don't blame me, I did something bad, Red.

How long have you kept the light on? Sitting there, staring at the door, waiting for someone who never seems to come? The radio is on, playing two stations at once. The flower petals all say maybe, not he loves me, he loves me not. You are frustrated and confused, yearning for clarity but outside the sun just won't rise and the only light is the one lit outside your house. Have you given your time at a discount, or is the free trial still running? Someone needs to draw the line in the sand further from the waves that keep washing them away. You want more, and for love to not feel like agony. Red is the colour of passion, both love and hate. I see you wearing their white t-shirt, your heart bleeding and staining it red as you watch them sleep. Safe and sound, whilst you howl to the moon. You're growing territorial. A desperate act to ward off the wolves that prowl your prey. You saw them first, but they don't seem to see you.

It seems as though your thoughts and feelings are silly until somebody else echos them, word for word, and then they're liquid gold. You're not a ghost, but you feel your outlines blur. Where do you end and where do they begin? You haunt their halls, but they're fast asleep and never notice a bump in the night. You've felt powerless, like the quietest poltergeist, unable to move and shake the silverware, never able to rattle the cupboards or the picture frames. Somebody treats you like they would give you their last name, yet make no such commitments, not a single step in that direction. It is all up in the air, and you feel like the rug beneath your feet will get pulled at any moment. Is it not tiring to lie awake, watching the shadows, wondering what beasts may strike if you let your guard down in slumber? Without certainty, you're the one in fear under the covers, certain it wasn't just the wind. Because in your experience, it never really is.

Do not sign the dotted line without examination of the fine print. Better yet, do not sell your heart and soul to someone who will keep you on a shelf, saved for a rainy day, but will not puncture breathing holes into the lid and care for you truly. Do not let yourself be kept for a season, wings clipped and left to asphyxiate in a jar. You have given enough benefits of the doubt, but nobody is so daft, so oblivious, they would not embrace love they find worthy and good. Do not let yourself be kept as an option or as something good enough until something better, new and shiny, comes along. Close up shop and demand full subscription for your time and effort. If they won't pay the price, you'll find better in no time whilst karma chews them out. Especially if you feel like you can't do better, or have felt like love keeps avoiding you and you're somehow faulty and too broken to be loved, there really is someone around the next few corners who won't play you like a game or stick around only in fair weather but your storms too. So don't settle, you deserve better than okay and fine and good enough. For a select few, there really is love here, but may be drowning in addiction or fears of some kind. Remember that you can't help someone who doesn't want help, because change is made when they want change. This change may very well be coming up in the near future, and wrongs may be made right slowly. If this is somebody you love, whether romantically or platonically, even in a familial sense, make sure you keep your head above water and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping another. You can extend a helping hand, but do so when they ask, not because you're expected to do it because you always have. New beginnings in old relationships are possible if you want it.

Additional details: Amethysts, Ayurveda, moths, mixed signals, love languages, uquizzes and other such tests, purple, blue, red, bus rides, tattoos, job offers, writing, poetry, thesis, message in a bottle, missing an ex, addiction, healing, birds and squirrels, starting over, second chances, reminiscing, old photos or journal entries or ig posts, synastry charts, girl in red, Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Kahan, Bishop Briggs, YA book series, maladaptive daydreaming, BPD, lighters, short trips, parties or other get togethers, double dates, life path 8, birthdays, sanrio, studying, Scorpio/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn/Pisces, 3H/4H/5H/12H, Saturn/Mars/Uranus, Lilith/Chiron, 25/89/222/555.

02.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - Gorgeous, Paper rings, I think he knows.

Luck seems to be on your side, or it soon will be. After a long drought, you have stumbled upon an oasis. Prayers whispered in the dark, sometimes choked out by tears, are now proven to have been heard after all. Endless night and harsh winter is over, even though seasonally speaking it's right ahead of us in the northern hemisphere. In your life, however, you're coming out of a very long and hard winter. You have felt cold and lost, sometimes frozen in place, as though your icicle bones and frosted skin wouldn't let your body decompose when you thought you were dead. You were stuck up to your thighs in snow. Every step was a challenge, and harsh winds threatened you like frail branches bending and snapping in storms. Now the snow is melting, trampled into slush beneath your boots and making way for spring flowers to bloom.

Forward movement is happening in many areas of your life. New beginnings are popping up like wildflowers in a meadow for you to frolic in. You're making changes and changes are making you. Immovable objects begin to roll down the hilltop where you've felt stranded like a lone celltower sending and receiving signals. You may have felt in your heart and soul that the winds are changing. Your intuition has been wide open and receptive for some time now, hasn't it? But rooted in place unable to move you have felt unable to take action. That is changing now as not only can you move forward, but things you have wished for begin to arrive like ships to your shores. You sowed and nurtured the seeds and it is time to harvest your crops. If you have dealt with mental terrors and grief, you should see those slowly begin to heal, circumstances improve, and help becoming available to you and you finally feel ready and able to take it.

If you've been engaging in some good old fashioned yearning, know that it's a case of mutual pining. Someone whose freckles, birth marks, or scars you have mapped out like an astronomer the night sky in stolen glances has stolen just as many of you. Either one of you, perhaps both, have been closing doors as of late, gone through endings and made space for the new and found the keys to the doors once shut and chained and locked. There is a distinct sense of leveling up here, like entering a new region in a game at last when the requirements have been met, and you're now free to explore new and unknown territory. I see unwavering eye contact where before it was a game of cat and mouse. I see a church, two people side by side in the pews sharing quiet confessions. Words previously only thought find a voice and get spoken, not to the moon but the heart they were meant for. There can be some secrecy involved, but less like the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet it's keeping something sacred between two souls, keeping each other like an oath. Sheltering a flame, for some of you one rekindled, between four hands and promising to meet in the woods at night. This secrecy is not one grown from shame, but one of dedication. A solid foundation, a home and sturdy fortress is being built or rebuilt in the dark of the night so its eventual beauty and intricacies may be admired by all in the sun. You may have manifested this, or simply known this was inevitable. All you really had to do was accept it as fate and wait for it to unfold. This is a cozy kind of love, but also devout like two souls looking upon each other in reverence. It feels as close as it feels free. There's something to lean on but also room to grow. You hold each other tightly, but loosen the grip as needed, and always ready to catch the other if they fall. For some of you this marks the end of a third party situation, an entirely new love, and for others this is reworking an existing or past love with a new set of rules and making magic together after tough challenges.

Additional details: Full moon, abundance, sudden income, lottery luck, gifts, receiving or giving flowers, dancing, swimming, guided meditations, listening to higher frequencies, therapy or counselling, lists and plans, entrepreneurship, editing, finishing tasks, cats, rabbits and ferrets or rodents, pancakes and waffles, sunflowers and dandelions, espresso, heavy rain, holding hands, nostalgic scents or environments, coughing, PTSD, neurodivergence, artificial intelligence, fidget toys or stress balls, colouring books, arts and crafts, dainty jewellery, body language, law of assumption, dreams, blue, green, black, glasses, kpop, punk, indie, Stray Kids, Ateez, Dreamcatcher, Daft Punk, Sabaton, Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, Virgo/Leo/Cancer/Aquarius/Sagittarius, 1H/3H/5H/11H, Jupiter/Moon/Mercury/Pluto, North and South Node/Ceres, 12/13/33/555/888.

03.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - The archer, Mean, Anti-hero.

Narcissus and Echo, a tragedy of old. You may have been at the mercy of fluctuating between the two. This can be a dance between you and another, or you and your own reflection. You may have pushed someone away. A friend, a family member, yourself, or an authority figure of sorts. Demanding they leave you alone, left them on read or never bothered to open their letters at all, after so long of clinging to their every word. Certain of your independence, a need to put yourself first, desperate self love wholly unrequited. Or perhaps you fought viciously for yourself, but your voice was never heard. As though you always needed someone else to speak your words for them to be taken as right and true. Perhaps you were sent on a glitched quest, "ask your mother" only met with "ask your father", leaving you in the uncertainty of the in between, alone and filled to the brim with unanswered questions and no sense of direction.

You have sought help, asked for assistance, asked all the right questions and really pushed your own cart forwards though it has been uphill. And something or someone always cast stones on your path forward, shoved stick between the wheels to make the process feel so hopeless. There are wounds that you bear that have been left unhealed for years. Still raw and bleeding you dry whilst you try to keep yourself together like cupping water in your hands as it spills through your fingers. But though your path is full of traps and spikes and is uncertain and winding, you know the way forward all within yourself. Because you carry with you the only light you need to find your way. You may cross paths with kind advisors who unseathe their swords to fight for you, and some of them may already be in your life. Those who see the injustice and tear down the thicket ahead to make way for you and protect you whilst you stitch your wounds and ready yourself for battle yourself. Accept the help, encouragement, and follow these kind mercenaries when you get lost. Allow them to carry your burdens when as Atlas you need a break from carrying the world upon your shoulders. Soon you'll be strong enough to do what you need to do. Be better, stronger, healthier, if not for you right now then for those who need you and cherish you and want you by their side in the quests of life. Eventually your actions will prove to be the best for you, and a faint portrait of a future you smiles upon your present self for your decision to keep moving forward.

If you need to put your foot down, do so in earnest. Shoo away guilt and shame, and let go of the idea that you must suffer in silence and weather unnecessary storms, speak when spoken to and follow another's commands so often not in favour of your own well-being. Fight your inner demons, but know you need not fight them alone. Dip a quill in ink and rewrite the rules. Break into the library which holds the book of life and black out that what does not serve you, and take ownership of your own story. If Narcissus treats you poorly, trample him under your foot on your way out the door. He is only a flower now and seasons change, and he will wilt and wither away as you no longer shine upon his petals.

Additional details: Violins, literature, art galleries, sisters and fathers, divorce, babies or children, psychotherapy, CBT, law, changing your name, lgbt+, jazz, classical music, Regina Spektor, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, borzoi, dog videos, playing instruments, writing a book, storytelling, unknown address, exotic animals, spiders, ED, OCD, teddy bears, squishmallows, studying for a test, doctor's appointments, funerals, chill covers/lofi, slowed/reverb/acoustic versions, subliminals, affirmations, lace, fuzzy socks or woolen socks, bruises, house plants, monstera, ivy, pothos, tea collection, cold hands, Taurus/Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Capricorn, 2H/6H/8H/10H, Saturn/Pluto/Neptune/Venus, IC/MC, 17/23/95/11:11/000/444.

[lihhelsing]

Hate That I Loved You

Now complete on AO3!

Part 1 | Part 2 ↓ | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

On the first day of shoot, Eddie is a nervous wreck. He can't handle it. He won't make it. He stays hidden in his dressing room until Chrissy is pounding at the door and threatening to tear it down if he doesn't come out immediately. 

Eddie doesn't doubt her. 

"It was your idea," Chrissy says as she eyes Eddie and how pale he looks. "Roll a joint, take a fucking shot. I don't care. Just get your ass into the studio because we're filming this today."

Eddie nods but Chrissy is too busy walking away from him to see it. She knows it, though. Eddie wouldn't ignore an order like that. 

The first sequence is with Sean. Sean is taller than him and he used to drive a red convertible that Eddie thought was just the coolest. So that's why he's setting a fucking car on fire for the clip. 

Sean thinks it's hilarious. 

The idea is for them to film the whole song with every one of the exes, so they have options. Because Sean, Pedro and David are all from Los Angeles, they go first. Eddie kept waiting for Lou to show up, but he should know better. Lou always liked to be different, to stand out. He and Steve are pushed to day 2, and for the looks of it, it might be day 3, if they can't speed up David's shoot. Eddie's is breaking a stone wall for him. It's metaphorical and it makes him feel good, actually. 

On day 2, Pedro is the only one around before lunch and Eddie actually have a good time with him. He's funny and sweet, just like Eddie remembered, and he keep calling Eddie 'mi amor' which is endearing in a totally platonic way. For a second, Eddie can't remember why they broke up, but then Pedro gets a call from his mom and everything comes rushing back. 

Pedro was already thinking about marriage and building a family and Eddie wasn't really ready. They are in a backyard with a pretty white picket fence and Eddie throws paint all around. Everything gets stained with black, the color Pedro saw as Eddie's heart color. 

It doesn't hurt as much, but it's harder than the two before him. When Pedro goes back to the dressing rooms to wipe the black paint from him, Eddie's mood had soured considerably.

It gets even worse as Lou walks in, looking like a rockstar. Looking exactly like what he is. 

Lou was Eddie's only famous boyfriend and their relationship had crashed and burned in front of everyone. Eddie feels the tug in his chest as he looks at the scene that's getting built for them. 

It's a stage. The Grammy stage. 

The worst part of it all is that Lou doesn't seem fazed by any of it. It's like he barely remembers breaking Eddie's heart at the Grammy's that year. It's like that was just a day, completely forgotten. 

But Eddie hasn't forgotten about it. He hasn't forgotten how bad he felt that day. How heartbroken. How Lou was trying to make everything be Eddie's fault when he was the one flirting shamelessly with other people in front of him. 

Eddie needs a minute. 

In fact, he feels like he needs a whole year to even be able to do that. What a great fucking idea, put himself through the most traumatic thing in his life for the cameras. No wonder people say he has no self-preservation reflex. 

He just walks away. He knows Chrissy saw him freaking out and he knows she will give him a moment to collect himself so he just keeps on walking past props and music equipment and finally the front door. 

Eddie is out. The cold air hits his face and with trembling hands he reaches inside his pocket just to remeber he doesn't have his joint with him since he's already wearing the outfit for the clip. 

A tux just like the one he wore on the fucking Grammy's. His hands fly to his neck as he pull at the bowtie, trying to get some air into his lungs. His vision gets a little blurry as if there's not enough oxygen in the world for him right now. 

Then big strong hands are pushing his hands aside, circling his neck and unclipping the bow tie. It's a fake one, so Eddie could keep pulling at it and he would get nowhere. 

"Take a deep breath," the voice says and it gives him chills because he knows that voice. He dreams about that voice. 

He does as he's being told because Steve always knew what was best for Eddie. 

"You're ok," Steve says under his breath. His hands fall from Eddie's neck and Eddie wishes they were still there, touching him, grounding him. "Just keep breathing."

Eddie does and things start going back to normal, except there's not a normal scenario where Steve Harrington is just standing there in front of Eddie, looking better than ever, with a frown between his brows because he's worried about Eddie. 

No. That should be impossible with how hard Eddie had fucked things up and still, Steve is really there. 

"I, uh, thought you were only coming in tomorrow," Eddie says when he stops feeling like he's going to die. 

Steve shrugs. "Landed a few hours ago, Chrissy said I could check things out."

After that, Eddie has no clue what to say so he just stares at Steve, dumbly. Much to his relief, Chrissy saves him from looking even more like an idiot by opening the door and calling him back. 

"Uh, thanks for doing that. It really means a lot to me," Eddie says, trying not to sound as pathetic as he feel. Steve smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. 

Eddie wants to say more, he wants to keep talking to Steve. Forget the music video and forget the fact that Lou is standing inside, probably pissed at Eddie, he instantly wants to throw everything away as beg Steve for a second chance. 

By the look on Steve's eyes it's like he can see Eddie's intentions clearly, but then Chrissy is pulling him in and waving at Steve like this is normal. Nothing about this is fucking normal and now Eddie needs to survive Lou if he wants to have a shot at talking to Steve. 

[popodoki]

Hey, teacher! Part 8 (Catwin motorcycle au)

Thomas to the rescue x

"My God… is that your friend, Edwin?" Esther sneers, horrified.   

"Oh yes," he acts casual. Like this isn't completely bizarre. "It appears he was able to make it after all." Edwin politely excuses himself, pointedly doesn't walk away at full speed like a man escaping a death sentence.   

By the time he reaches Thomas on the street, at least 7 children have gathered around the shiny novelty of his bike, some of them are actually touching it. One child is gripping the handle bars and making 'vroom' noises. Thomas stands by, looking amused, answering their overlapping questions as best he can. When he notices Edwin, he smiles broadly, winking mischievously.   

Edwin comes to a stop, lifts one eyebrow at him.  

"I've come to rescue you, ghostie." Thomas announces, like its an obvious answer to a question Edwin didn’t pose. "This is real shit, isn't it? There isn't even any music. What kinda picnic is this?" Some of the children giggle at the curse word. "Also, babe, you’ve been here less than an hour and already you look fuckin' miserable." Edwin visibly deflates. He had been under the impression that he'd done a faily good job of hiding it. "Don't curse in front of the children." Is all he can think of. Right after, the realization that Thomas just called him babe comes barrelling through, and that is now all he can think of. 

"Well, come on then." Thomas throws his leg over, sits back on the motorcycle, pats the seat behind him.   

Edwin stares. 

Thomas stares back. 

Edwin’s mouth opens but it takes a second try to form the "What." 

"Come on, we're going home. There’s wine in the kitchen, and I’m pretty sure I saw a real nice vintage record player in the living room." 

"Thomas, I." Edwin shrugs helplessly, at a loss for words. "I can't just leave. And definitely not on that." 

"Course you can leave. Come on, say goodbye to- oops, here she comes." Thomas, vagrant that he is, can't even bother to hide the absolute glee spreading over his face. 

Heart in his throat, Edwin whirls around, sees Esther breezing towards them, a look of murder in her eyes. He braces himself, then deflates like a punctured balloon animal, with a slight wheeze he can’t quite smother behind a hand, when Thomas beats him to the punch, loudly. "Good afternoon! I remember you, tittering about yesterday, yeah? Never quite got your name, mine’s Thomas, Thomas King.”   

"Charmed." Esther clips out, curt, glancing at Thomas’ outstretched hand with disdain. 

"Pleasure's all mine, ma'am." Thomas quips, smoothly pulling his hand back, turning the motion into a tip of a hat that's not there, leans forward. "Say, you had a good look at her yesterday, I got her all cleaned up just earlier,” Thomas pats the bike’s seat, smiles wide, on the edge of too much so, "can I interest you in a ride around the block?" He pats the seat again, tilting his head just a bit to the side, towards her, making sure that Esther catches the challenge, the confidence in the invitation. 

Esther almost reels, recoiling with disgust. "That's a very emphatic NO from me, Mr. King. Edwin, dear boy, do come back when you're,” she waves her hand in the air, gesturing in the vague direction of where Thomas is practically preening, perched on his shining bike, arms crossed, “done, with all this." Her message is clear. Get rid of him.  She stalks away, every muscle in her body so tense, Edwin is surprised she can walk at all. When he turns back to Thomas, he sees him offer a cheeky fingerwave at her retreating back. 

When Edwin gives in to the urge to swat his arm, Thomas laughs and laughs, giggles like a child that's just pulled off a particularly dirty prank, looks just as faux-ashamed only when he fully refocuses on Edwin, and his wide-eyed stare at him. "You do realize, I'll pay for that later?" Edwin whispers from behind his clenched teeth. 

"Ghostie. What's she gonna do? Come on, now's your chance. Hop on." He scoots forward, making room. 

"I told you, I can't. I, I just-" 

"Edwin." Thomas looks him right in the eye, expression serious. "Don't worry. It's just a picnic. It'll go on without you. Who cares about what Esther says anyway? Who cares about the people who would care about what an absolute witch like Esther says?"   

The sound of his name coming out of Thomas's mouth is what calms him. Yet at the same time, his heart rate triples, he feels a surge of adrenaline. "I won't fall off?" He eyes the thin strip of seat behind the other man. It doesn't look at all secure. "Not if you hold on." Thomas starts the engine with a wink, and the nearby hovering cloud of children all exclaim in wonder at the noise, laughing, covering their ears. Some of their parents look decidedly displeased. Edwin takes a deep breath, wipes his sweaty palms on his overcoat, forces himself to throw a leg over the motorcycle, tucking up close to Thomas, an arm around his torso. "Sorry." he apologizes over the din of the engine, though he's not sure for what exactly. For touching him? 

"S'alright, babe. Hold on, we're going to be making a quick exit. The wicked witch is decidedly not happy." Thomas pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket, the motorcycle jerks forward, scaring Edwin half to death. He reflexively clings harder, pretending he didn't make a high-pitched yelp out of fear. He doesn't dare look back, to see people's reactions as the motorcycle roars away. He doesn't even want to entertain the thought of how Esther Finch is going to handle him running off without saying goodbye.   

They've gone through two corners, when Edwin realizes he's still clinging to Thomas, perhaps a little too hard. He tries to loosen his grip, he really does, but every time the motorcycle makes the slightest motion underneath his legs, he's worried that their equilibrium will be shattered and he'll go spiraling to the pavement. Also, it's an easy excuse to hold him without any guilt. This was Thomas's idea, after all. Edwin is blameless for clinging. He presses the side of his face against the leather-clad back in front of him. The smell of leather is divine, and he can feel Thomas's ribcage expanding with each breath. It's nice. It's very nice. Edwin almost wishes he lived further away. 

Thomas pulls to a stop, neatly, in the middle of the driveway. He cuts the engine, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. "See? World didn't end." Edwin releases his squid-like grip on that leather jacket, rather unsteadily dismounts the bike, trying to calm his quaking knees. "Actually, there were a few turns back there that almost proved you wrong." A bucket is placed against the garage door, probably used by Thomas when he cleaned his bike. Thomas laughs good naturedly when Edwin gives it a calculating stare, just for effect. Edwin can’t help but smile, a touch wry, marvelling just a bit inside, how easy he now falls into this, this kind of banter, teasing, with someone he didn’t even know 3 days ago.  

He looks at the bike once more, and it occurs to him, again, that he has just ditched Esther at the church picnic, in front of essentially the entire town. Not only that, but he did it clinging to the back of a man on a motorcycle. Edwin needs a good, big glass of wine, and he needs it now. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Alright, let's have a drink, before I spend any more time thinking about what I've just done." 

Thomas slaps him on the shoulder with a smile, letting his hand drift to the small of Edwin’s back, and leads them both inside the house. 

[solarecliipse]

if i dare to say !

akaashi keiji x reader.

a/n: sooo my laptop got broke, and i had a hard time getting it repaired, which is why this one's coming like a week later than it was suppossed to, but here it is! in some days i'll have the kageyama x reader too, so keep your eyes open. make sure to take care of yourselfs and get enough sleep :)

you can still remember the way he looked at you that day, eyes cold and distant, like a stranger wearing the face of someone you used to know. the words he said, the way he broke you apart, still echoes in your mind like a song stuck on repeat.

“it’s not working,” he had said, his voice devoid of the warmth that once embraced you. “we need to end this.”

you had asked him why, your voice trembling, but he only shook his head, refusing to give out any real answer. “it’s just better this way,” he had said. And then he walked away, leaving you standing there, with your soul shattered into a million pieces.

for weeks, you tried to understand what went wrong, replaying every moment in your head, searching for signs that you might have missed, but all you could find was more pain, more confusion, until you couldn’t take it anymore. you had to let go, even if you didn’t have all the answers.

months passed, and the wounds he left behind began to heal, slowly and painfully. you forced yourself to move on, to build a life that didn’t revolve around him. you surrounded yourself with friends, threw yourself into your work, and even began to rediscover the things that used to make you happy before he came into your life. it wasn’t easy, and there were days when the ache in your chest felt like it would never go away, but you kept pushing forward, determined to find yourself again, to be whole without him, even if it meant staying away from the things you shared.

and just when you thought you were finally getting there, he came back.

you were sitting at a café with a friend, yukie, laughing over some silly story she was telling you, when you saw him. he walked in as if he belonged there, as if he hadn’t ripped your heart out and left you to pick up the pieces alone. 

you froze, laughter dying in my throat. yukie noticed the change of demeanor and followed your gaze. “oh no,” she muttered.

 “what’s he doing here?” you ask in a hoarse voice.

“i don’t know”

he hadn’t seen you yet, and you had half a mind to slip out before he did, but it was too late. your eyes met across the room, and his face lit up with a smile that made your stomach churn.

he walked over, and you couldn’t help but notice that he looked just the same. same tousled hair, same easy smile, as if no time had passed, as if nothing had changed, but everything had changed. at least for you.

“hey,” he said, his voice annoyingly casual. “it’s been a while.”

“yeah,” you replied, your tone clipped. you wanted to say something more, something sharp and biting, but couldn’t find the words.

yukie glanced between you, clearly uncomfortable. “i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” she said, grabbing her purse and giving you a look that said, call me if you need an escape. you nodded, appreciating her unspoken offer, but stayed put. even if it hurt, you needed to hear what he had to say.

“so,” he began, once yukie was gone, “how have you been?”

you stared at him, incredulous. “how do you think i’ve been?” you asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

he winced, as if the words had physically hurt him. “i know, i know. i messed up, okay? but I’ve been thinking about things, and i realized that i want us to be friends again.”

friends. the word hung in the air between you, heavy and unwelcome. you almost laughed at the absurdity of it. “you can’t be serious,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i am,” he insisted, leaning forward as if that would make his words more convincing. “i miss you. i miss us.”

“us?” you echoed, shaking your head. “there is no ‘us’ anymore, remember? you made sure of that.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know i screwed up, and i’m sorry for that, but I was going through a lot, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. breaking up was a mistake, i see that now.”

a mistake. that’s what he called it? a simple mistake, like forgetting to return a phone call or misplacing your keys. not the complete and utter devastation of someone’s trust and heart.

“well, it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” you said, voice shaking. “you didn’t just hurt me, you broke me, and now you think we can just go back to being friends, like nothing happened?”

“i’m not saying we can go back to how things were,” he said quickly. “i just… i miss having you in my life. can’t we at least try?”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, didn’t feel that old, familiar pull. the one that used to make you forgive him for everything, that made you overlook the things that hurt. instead, all you could feel was exhaustion, you were tired of fighting for something that was already dead.

“i don’t think we can,” you said quietly, finally admitting the truth to both of you. “too much has happened, and i’ve changed. i’m not the same person you left behind, and i don’t think you are either.”

he looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and something else you couldn’t quite place. “i understand,” he said after a long pause. “i guess i just hoped…”

“yeah,” you cut in, not wanting to hear whatever hope he had been holding on to. “well, we can’t always get what we want.”

he nodded, standing up slowly. “i’m really sorry,” he said, and for the first time, it was like he actually meant it. “for everything.”

you didn’t answer, instead looking away. what was there left to say? he lingered for a moment, as if waiting for you to change your mind, but when you didn’t, he finally walked away.

after he left, you sat there for a long time, staring at the empty seat across from you. and you should have felt relieved, maybe even proud of yourself for standing your ground, but all you could feel was a deep, aching sadness.

[drearymondays-05]

Drunken Confessions

Jily Week August Day 3: In Vino Veritas

@sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee

The house remained standing in an isolated area, somewhere near the fringe of the forest. It built up the mystery and allure of that singular building which appeared to be deserted. If any person were to try and open the locked gate, it would not open up. The gate was resistant to even some of the most advanced magic. Only a handful of people knew the way in. The atmosphere inside the house was in stark contrast to the outside. Loud music, tabletops filled with foods and drinks and the merry laughter of people brought into life the worn-out walls and clipped wallpapers. Some people were drunk, some lost in thoughts.

James continued his perusal of people till he caught a corner filled with his heart. Sirius and Remus were up to their debates, Peter was looking morosely into a tumbler and Lily was about to fall if her slipping away from the sofa was any indication. He made his way to them leisurely. He was bone-tired after patrolling the entire day at the Department of Mysteries as Dumbledore had asked of him, and then there was the altercation with a small group of Death eaters. This made him late to the party at the Order safehouse.

“There comes our hero of the day”, Sirius announced when he reached there. James sent him a mock salute and proceeded to make himself comfortable. Remus started asking him about the fight. Just as he was talking with Remus, he saw Lily had fallen asleep. “She started getting drunk as she waited on you. She was worried about you,”, Sirius replied when he saw James looking at Lily. James felt a spark of hope and quashed it immediately. Of course, she was worried about him. He was her friend after all. How long till he realized that it was all he would ever be?

Once upon a time however she was his girlfriend. Few months after the beginning of their seventh year in Hogwarts, they had started dating. For James, it was a dream come true moment after fancying Lily for a really long time. He felt like winning all the Quidditch trophies at once, flying high and soaring in the air. All the things in the world could still not compete with the giddiness he felt while dating Lily.

He just did not know that those days were numbered. He could still clearly remember the doomsday. It was a Hogsmeade Saturday when the first attack near Hogwarts took place. The chaos, screams of pure agony, terror in little eyes, and weight of responsibility on his shoulders were new to him that day. He saw how ugly war could be from closer quarters. It strengthened his resolve to take the final step in their relationship by saying ‘I love you’ to Lily. He could not pretend to not love her anymore. He loved her, irreparably and irrevocably. He loved her when her green eyes would search for him across the room and smile that pretty smile of hers just for him, when she would visibly light up in his presence, when she absentmindedly ran her fingers across his palm and all the moments within and in between.

When they met after a bit of calm in the castle from the attack, Lily seemed tensed almost. He saw determination fill her as she took sure steps towards him. “We should not be together anymore”, she had said. James had felt his heart stop with those words. “This is not the time to be dating when muggle-borns around us are dying. I should have been working harder towards stopping this fight not frolicking around as if the world around is roses and sunshine. I need to do more James. I am, I am sorry I cannot continue this with you. Don’t ask me of it.”

James had not. He could not find it in himself to convince Lily to not stop living her life because of all the shit going around. He knew the impact the attack had on her. He saw the fire and thirst in her eyes to actually do something. He did not want to take that away from her. Most of all he understood she needed to fight the war on the frontlines till her need for vengeance and justice was quenched. And also, that she would feel guilty about her cause if she rather spent time with him. And James had wanted to be many things but never a page in Lily Evans’s regret diary.

Sirius had given him serious flak over the stupidity of their break up and that he should have said something. But he could not explain to Sirius that during his time with Lily he saw things he never knew of. The difficulties of just surviving as a muggle-born in their world, the smaller things, the covert judgements daily, snide remarks and the alert even an accomplished witch like Lily had to be in. So, a muggle-born fighting the war was a powerful statement to the world that they could fight their own battles and need not rely on others for it.

So, he had kept quiet and just nodded that day. His ‘I love you’ had died a swift death before even getting its voice. He had sworn Lily that they would always remain friends.

If that wasn’t the most difficult promise, he had made someone! Being Lily’s friend tested his self-control at times. Times when he wanted to kiss Lily with desperate abandon after she returned from Order missions, times when he wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go. It became increasingly difficult to keep his feelings at bay. He just wished Lily would sooner realize that falling in love during this time was not a crime.

Back to the party, James sighed and asked his friends to turn up for the night. He carried Lily up the stairs to the bunk. Once he had tucked her in, he tried getting away but a hand snaked around his wrist. As he turned, he saw Lily smiling at him dreamily. “Lils……” he tried saying but Lily sat up and put a finger on his lips. Merlin save him, that simple touch set his heart racing. “Hey, James!” “Hi”, he managed to say. Lily then went on to do a thorough survey of his face. When she returned to look back into his eyes, she panicked, “Are you hurt? Christ, why do you have to always play the hero? Did something happen?” James managed to soothe her down while murmuring, “Look who is talking.” She evidently paid that no mind as she took his hands in hers, “I am an idiot.”

She started talking to herself, “What did I even gain by pushing you away? It was so stupid. The war is still going on….. Why did I ruin the best thing that happened to me? Stupid, stupid, stupid. …………..” Then her mumble turned her incoherent. James on the other hand was undergoing a kaleidoscope of emotions as she went on. Sorrow, grief then sudden delight, and bliss were all warring inside him. Amusement took the prize whatsoever. Drunk Lily was adorable.

All of a sudden, Lily turned her ire on James, “You knew that, didn’t you? You could have stopped me from breaking up. Why didn’t you?” She pointed her accusatory fingers towards him. “Do you not fancy me anymore?”, she lamented. The corners of his lips turned up into a smile.

She was turning sleepy. He pressed her into the bed and said, “Sleep sweetheart. We will talk tomorrow.” She went to sleep obediently but asked before closing her eyes, “What if I forget?” “I will remind you”, James promised and pressed his lips to Lily’s forehead.

This time he planned on freaking following through on that promise.

[vodkababy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 ,, 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙤𝙘 || 𝐗.𝐎. 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 🧁💐

𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄 ☆

warnings : none ☕️

about : this is like an intro in general where in movies its a starting point??😭 idk tbh but its based off igor’s theme

STORY LINKS

korean - bold italic

♪ “ridin’ ‘round town, they gon feel this one”

the sounds of a car’s engine revved across the late night streets of seoul. his hands effortlessly turned the handles. turn after turn, after turn, after turn, he was met with a red light.

it wasn’t long until cars behind him, beside him started to pile up. he could see everything with his hoodless car. there was another car that went beside his in particular, caught his eye. it was in an indistinguishable color of either pink or white. music like tyler the creator, kali uchis, blasted amongst the speakers.

he turned his head and his eyes were met by a pair of gorgeous ones. her hair was waving in the cold midnight air, with rhinestone heart clips on, the neon lights and signs played part on making her look so breathtakingly majestic. a smile flashed across her face, noticing the handsome young man clearly staring at her and immediately smiled back.

not noticing, the lights have already turned green, all you could hear were cars furiously beeping and the girl’s pink-white car had already dashed across the street; leaving a dumbfounded boy who didn’t even get the opportunity to ask her name.

he drove home, quietly. he turned his music off, and all was heard were the sounds of the wind.

ring. ring.

“min ho, when the fuck are you gonna get home? i asked you for take-out. two hours ago.”

“dae, please get over yourself, you know damn well i didn’t only go out just to run you some errands. i gotta go, i’m close to the dormitory. talk to you later.”

and after that he immediately hung up on his phone.

“happy with your orange chicken?” min ho asked.

“whatever. thanks.” dae answered lazily. with min ho being unhappy with that response he took a can of soda from the fridge earning a question from q.

“since when did you start drinking a can of coke randomly in the middle of the night?”

“well, today.”

“what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“so, i saw a girl.”

dae and q’s eyes immediately brightened up, becoming interested in now’s topic.

“she had this cute car, and she was pretty cute too, i must say.” “but i didn’t get the chance to ask her name.”

“do you remember what she looked like?” q asked.

“yeah, uh, she’s got long black hair but it was curled looking, doe eyes, with long lashes pretty plump looking lips, like they kind of look like they were done BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU THEY ARE NATURAL.” minho held his hands up in defense. with dae and q laughing, he couldn’t help but feel vulnerable at the topic of her. he was smitten with the girl.

“i think i know who this is.” q smiled.

“who? who?”

“if she’s wearing a headband it’s probably eunice, but if she’s wearing those shiny heart clips, its that new girl.”

“what’s her name?” min ho asked with a glint of excitement in his eye.

☆ by isla🪸