#it becomes clearer day by day that he is simply not normal about machines

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Benjamin, you are worthy in the eyes of God.

It is said amongst all the angels that of all the creatures available on earth and above and below, through all of creation, through all of life!

You are God’s favorite.

And I would think it’s so cool for you to come over sometime and we could hang out on the couch and order a pizza, and maybe watch some anime together.

It’s been a while since I rewatched Gurren Lagann.

So maybe this weekend if you’re not to busy, you could pop by.

But no pressure or anything I know we’re all very busy these days.

Thank you, Benjamin. I love you.

Audio source

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Keep Breathing (standalone)

Summary:  Edge can handle this. He can. All he has to do is keep breathing.

Notes:    I forget where I saw it, on twitter or discord, about Edge being unable to understand what he felt when he saw Stretch. This is what sort of evolved from it.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Papcest, Angst, Feels, LV Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence

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Breathing, that was what was important. In, out, deep, slow breaths. It took a few before the icy Snowdin air seemed to help smother the fire currently burning in his chest. Edge kept it up, slow breaths, in and out, and he didn’t have lungs, but he still needed air, his magic greedily incorporating the oxygen as the sense of smothering he’d felt in the Swap brothers’ house faded.

His bones felt hot and achy, the snow beneath him melting and soaking into his trousers as he sat curled up on the ground behind the house, out of view of any passersby on the streets. Not far away he could hear the crunch of footsteps and words blurred by distance, pedestrians heading to the shops or perhaps Muffet’s for a treat. Their laughter was clearer, unknowing that he was close by and listening, and Edge buried his face into his updrawn knees and did not wonder at what they might think if they saw him here, if their concern would turn to fear with a simple Check.

It was rare that he made such a foolish mistake. If his brother’s lessons hadn’t taught him caution, then life in Underfell certainly had. One was cautious or one was dead, there was little room for error. Although foolish was far too sedate a word for this. Insanity might be closer, to come here to this softer world with his LV still sizzling in his soul. He’d thought it was safe, that it had settled enough or perhaps wished it so desperately to be true that he’d convinced himself it was.

He should have known better.

Bounty hunters were supposed to restrain themselves to the deeper parts of Snowdin woods where no one lived, only existed, those who lumbered about with their minds lost to their LV. Supposed to, but anyone willing to bounty usually had high LV themselves and the irony that they would probably become what they hunted in the end was not often lost on them. When they were teetering between hunter and hunted, anyone unlucky enough to cross their path could be the one to set them off and send them over the brink. Edge’s luck had been especially poor today to come across a hunting pair while checking the traplines and if he’d been only slightly slower, a fraction less dedicated to his training, he would have simply been more dust added to their growing pile.

He hadn’t killed them, though it had been a near thing. Only taken them down to one HP and left them panting in the snow to either drag themselves away to try healing or perhaps finish each other off. Either way, they were likely as good as dead, but he refused to take them over the line. His own LV was already high enough, he shuddered to think of the amount of XP that would come from killing a hunter, much less two. He hadn’t stayed to see which option they chose, only hurried back to Snowdin proper without trying to seem as if he was hurrying. The walk had seemed endless, fraught with peril as anyone who dared check him would find him vulnerable. No one did, their ingrained wariness of the guard keeping them from trying their chances.

He’d arrived home with no fresh XP, but his soul still felt as if it were lit on fire from deep within, crying greedily for more. He likened it to a voice in the back of his skull, one that grew louder with every LV up and made cold demands for more payment in dust. He’d learned to ignore it, mostly, except for these moments when his soul felt as if it was swelling in his ribcage, hovering hot and bloated in his chest, and wresting control back seemed to take longer every time.

He should have called Blue then to cancel their cooking lesson, offered his regrets and made plans for another day. He should have and hadn’t, selfishly telling himself that he had it under control because he hadn’t wanted to cancel. He’d wanted to come to their shared cooking lessons, wanted to be here in this world with its abundant supplies and residents that walked the streets easily without having to peer out their front doors before stepping out into crisp air that didn’t taste of bitter, lingering dust. The same air he was so desperately inhaling now.

Tacos were the order of the day, a simple dish with a thousand variations. He’d been helping Blue chop up the brisket that’d already spent the day roasting slowly in the oven and he'd absently reached for a scrap of gristle that would otherwise be heading to the waste bin, only to have Blue playfully slap his hand away.

"Ah, ah,” he’d laughed, his starry eye lights bright and amused, “you'll spoil your appetite."

And in that one split second, his control broke free of his increasingly tenuous grasp and he'd nearly struck back. He could still see his intention in his mind's eye, to slap this little aggravation out of his way, how dare they lay a hand on him when they should be cowering at his feet, how dare they, how—

He'd reeled it back in almost instantly, but the damage was done, the urge lingering. He wouldn’t allow it control. He couldn’t. Edge turned on his heel and walked out, ignoring Blue's confused calls for him to come back, he was only teasing, Edge…?

He ignored it all, hasty strides taking him out into the cold snow, fleeing as if the hunters were still scrabbling at his heels and not one small, confused skeleton. He’d gone, one hand clawing at the front of his shirt to let in some much-needed cold air and didn’t stop until he was around the house at the back door that led downstairs to the machine. His boots slid in snow hardpacked from so many others walking through it and he’d slipped, falling heavily to the ground. His flight back to Underfell paused as he crawled over to lean against the house and all he could do was heave in long, slow breaths to ease the aching burn in his chest.

Around him, lights were coming from the windows of the other little houses, cutting through the darkness. Artificial dusk had fallen at some point after he’d arrived, and those houses were filled with Monsters who had no idea who was in their midst. Their souls weren’t like his; they were innocent, as pure as Blue’s, and—

Blue.

He’d been so confused, apologizing profusely even without knowing what he was apologizing for. Edge would have to think of something to tell him, some excuse for his poor manners. Better for Blue to think Edge rude than the alternative; that he’d very nearly beaten him bloody in his own kitchen for the tiny sin of teasing. He needed to get and keep control over himself, and right quickly. Any moment now Blue might come looking at him, all innocent, solicitous concern.

He didn’t want Blue to see him right now, didn’t want anyone to see him. But the voice that suddenly came was from no one he’d considered at all.

“you okay?”

Edge whipped around to see Stretch leaning around enough to peer around the corner, his lower half still concealed by the house. One of his ever-present cigarettes was smoldering between two fingers, ash falling from the tip into the snow, so much like dust—

“What the hell do you want?” Edge snarled, his guilt suddenly swirling with the tension Stretch always brought with him. There was something about Stretch that had simply irritated him at first sight, something that he couldn’t put to words. It couldn’t be his lazy ways or his attitude or even his way of dress. Sans was much the same and he didn’t provoke the same reaction. But there was something, something in his enigmatic smile or the cant of his hips that made Edge’s soul stir in a way reminiscent of LV. Like now, fanning the already agitated heat inside him even hotter.

Stretch only shrugged. He’d always taken Edge’s dislike of him in stride, offering the occasional sly insult and little more. “just what it says on the box. are you okay?”

Someone of the science mind might find it interesting that all of them sounded so differently. Papyrus’s voice was surprisingly nasally for someone who had no nose, and Edge’s own ranged into higher pitch, almost a screech at times, and it took considerable effort to keep it to a lower tone. The low rasp of Stretch’s, like velvet polishing marble, was surely a sign of the Universe’s bizarre sense of humor; he didn’t deserve such a voice to use while he snored his life away.

“I’m fine,” Edge said shortly.

“uh huh. fine. you’re always fine, huh. bet your ass you are.” He exhaled smoke through his nasal aperture and it wreathed his face, his cigarette glowed brighter as he took another drag. The glowing ember briefly illuminating his face, giving it an eldritch cast and making his resemblance to Edge even more uncanny than normal. "even when you’re not.”

Did he know what Edge had been thinking? Difficult to say with him, there were times when Edge envied that carelessly bland expression, so difficult to read, even for his own brother.

“Am I supposed to be grateful for your concern?” Edge asked instead. “I see you looking at me. I know what you think of me.”

“yeah?” Stretch said mildly. “you think you got the inside scoop of what’s on my mind?”

Edge closed his mouth hard and turned away. No, no, he didn't and that was part of the problem, wasn't it. He didn’t know what went on in that head, couldn’t begin to guess. He only knew that despite sharing a face, it was nothing like what was in his own.

Stretch finally stepped around the corner entirely, sauntering closer and seeming not to notice Edge’s barely stifled flinch even as he snarled, “Get that filthy thing away from me—"

He trailed away as Stretch tamped out the cigarette on the bottom of his sneaker before he could finish, tucking the remaining butt into his pocket.

Stretch sat down next to him, seemingly equally unperturbed by the snow soaking into his clothes and Edge’s unwelcoming expression. Not touching, but close enough if one want to reach out a hand. Or a fist.

“what am i thinking,” Stretch mused, “hm. tell you what, let me give you a quick rundown. right now, i’m thinking that i wanted to check on you ‘cause you ran out of my house like you were getting chased by a bony bat out of hell. even my little bro’s most creative cooking ain’t that bad. i wanted to make sure you're okay.” He shrugged, an easy roll of shoulders. “that's it, it's not that deep.”

That was untrue. The fact that he came out at all meant something and Edge didn’t understand what. Unless his goal was to keep Blue away, a sensible choice if that were so.

Stretch didn’t wait for him to gather his wandering thoughts. "you think you know what’s on my mind? let me tell you something. you come from the wrong side of the multiverse and shit is rough for you, right? you think i don’t get that? you think that sitting here cushy in my slice of the universe means i don’t get what it’s like for you?” He tipped his head towards Edge, half a smirk lifting the side of his mouth and Edge wondered if he were being mocked. “well, you’re right. i don’t. but only takes one look at your face to guess that.” His hands didn’t seem to know what to do without their usual vice. They rested on his knees, his thumbs rubbing absent circles against the coarse material of his cargo pants. “i don’t know what it’s like to live in your ‘verse and you only think you know what it’s like in mine. we’re that much alike, ain’t we.”

“I have LV.” And you don’t was left unspoken.

“i know. but i’d be the last person to judge you about that.” His smirk twisted into something almost bitter, some humor that Edge couldn’t place. “the very last.” Stretch sighed and climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the base of his spine as he arched. He held out a hand and after a moment, Edge took it. his gloved fingers against Stretch’s bare ones. ”come on, my bro’s been working hard on his weird ass tacos. ‘preciate if you could choke down a bite or t—hey!”

His yelp was loud, echoing then lost in the cavern overhead. The moment he was on his feet, Edge pushed Stretch against the house and finally that casual façade cracked, his sockets startled and wide as Edge pinned him against the wall. That hot, heavy feeling in his soul surged again, overwhelming the linger dregs of LV and all Edge wanted was to wipe away that easy smirk, touch the untouchable.

Only that startled expression changed into something else, unexpected and unreadable. “well, now, didn’t know this was already on the menu.”

“What?” Edge only managed that single word before Stretch kissed him, full and hard, right on the mouth. His teeth were already parted and Stretch’s tongue slipped smoothly between them, moving against his own. Edge might have expected the taste of cigarettes and it was there, a little, the slightest taint of ashy nicotine. That taste was quickly swallowed up, engulfed, transmuting into unknown honeyed sweetness and warmth.

Stretch’s hands were resting on Edge’s chest, his bare, bony palms flat against his uniform shirt, bleeding warmth through the cold air around them and it was too fast, too much. Edge jerked back and stared speechlessly into Stretch’s face. His eye sockets were half-closed and within them, lights burned, their normal pale hue tinged with a strange cocktail of orange and blue.

His mouth moved as Edge stared, reforming that lazy smirk before he said, “you wanna go right here or take this up to my room?”

The words made no sense to him, nothing but pointless yammering. Then he realized he still had Stretch pinned against a wall, pressed to him from chest to pelvis.

Oh. He thought Edge wanted sex. He didn’t, that wasn’t why, but the actual reasons were fuzzy now, distorted. Why had he pinned Stretch to the wall? He was no longer certain. That confusing roil in his soul whenever he saw Stretch only surged harder as if straining inside his ribcage, LV only a careless afterthought, drowned out by the taste of sweetness lingering on his tongue. He breathed in hard through his teeth, but the cold air didn’t deaden that tingle, the burn shifting from his soul to his mouth. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, he couldn’t—

Edge backed off, almost stumbling as he stuttered out, “I…I didn’t…”

That easy sultry expression shifted, Stretch’s gaze narrowing. “no, you didn’t, did you. pity,” he murmured. He dusted himself off as if to sweep away any lingering traces of Edge’s touch, already reaching into his pocket for his lighter and cigarettes. “welp. on we go, then, to dinner and probable indigestion.”

All Edge could do was follow him, noting that his back was infuriatingly dry while Edge could feel his own snow-wet clothes clinging uncomfortable to his bones.

Stretch turned the corner and abruptly stopped, wariness dropping briefly across his face before it smoothed away. Edge didn’t think, pushed in front of him automatically to face whatever threat dared to invade this world and instead found his own brother standing there.

With his slouching stance and his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, some might mistake Red for harmless. It was a mistake few survived and even Edge was wary of that casual menace. Red’s gaze narrowed as he looked at them, crimson eye lights sweeping over them both. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the tip digging into the gold one. “heya, ashtray. whatcha doing out here with my bro?”

The lazy warning was unmistakable, and Edge stiffened, already bracing himself to take the brunt of his brother’s temper. Stretch only stepped around him, flashing that careless smile as he tucked a cigarette into the corner of his mouth. He cupped his hands around the flame of his lighter, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he said, “nothing i wouldn’t do with you.”

“that ain’t much reassurance.”

“heh. wasn’t trying to be.” He strolled on, skirting around Red with an extra sway in his narrow hips as if he was just another obstacle in his path and left Edge to deal with his brother.

The moment he was out of sight, Edge swung around to glare at Red.

It had little effect on his brother, it never had. He only offered his own shrug, the roll of his shoulders infuriatingly similar to Stretch’s. “just makin’ sure you ain’t gonna lose your head, boss.”

Edge narrowed his gaze, hissing out, “I don’t need your help!”

“no?”

The word was soaked in doubt and Edge stormed past him, ignoring whatever else Red said as he went back into the house where Blue was surely waiting. There were apologies to be made and tacos to be eaten. At least whatever it was that Stretch stirred in his soul had settled his LV, that heat was banked back, for now. He could handle anything else that came his way, he didn’t need help from anyone, not even his brother, and if seeing Stretch sitting at the dinner table made him inhale slowly through his open mouth, his mouth watering not from tacos but from a memory of sweetness, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if that taste lingered, if that strange feeling still sat heavy in his soul.

None of it mattered, so long as he kept breathing.

-finis-

[yandere-sins]

Wish

Yantober List! Feel free to participate at any point :3

Kudos to everyone who knows the song (; That aside, I used this chapter to go into a new aspect of Rhys, and I hope it gets clearer by now that he’s lost his grip on reality. Thank you for reading1

»»————————————  ♡ ————————————««  

“A dream is a wish your heart makes.”

The soft voice on the TV didn’t manage to wake you up completely. Only the gross humming of Rhys, who was ‘preparing’ dinner at the small kitchen close by the bed, forced you to groggily open your eyes, the ceiling above you as bland and unimpressive as always. 

When had been the last time you actually dreamed? Every time you woke up, something was happening, so you kept forgetting about your nightly adventures. Maybe your body didn’t even want to remember, understandably, considering what kind of underlying impressions your dreams must have shown you. If you had to guess, your last - real - dream had been to escape from here. Your new one was that the pain in your body would eventually stop.

Rhys had been gone all day long, leaving you behind in your pitiful restrictions, the painkillers failing somewhere around midday and making it almost unbearable to be alone. He had actually convinced your parents to take him to that one house he was talking to you about the other day, telling them you were on a weekend trip with friends when they asked to go and have a look spontaneously. Judging by his humming, he was in a good mood now.

“It was charming,” he chuckled, side-glancing at you as he noticed you were stirring awake. “Sure could stand a new coat of paint on the outside, but it was clean, not too big, just right for us. There are two rooms upstairs, for living space and sleeping. A kitchen, a bathroom with a bathtub, and plug-ins for washing machine and dryer. It even has a small storage room for the soup cans.”

Laughing, he tapped the cans he kept buying and storing by piling them from the floor next to the stove, their metallic sound pinging through the room. “The store below isn’t big, but it has everything we could need, including a back-office and secure windows.”

Filling his kettle with water, he put it on, the familiar, stinging sound of boiling water soon filling the room. Grabbing his phone, Rhys walked over to you, holding it up in front of you. The screen was so bright, you had to blink a few times to get accustomed to it. “It has a garden, but the really amazing thing is… Look at it, Baby.”

When your eyes finally adjusted, you saw the deep blue ocean water behind three familiar faces. Someone must have made a picture of Rhys and your parents while they were there, smiling and happy. “The ocean is just a three minutes walk until you get to the stairs that will get you down to the beach. Isn’t that amazing? Maybe I will pick up surfing if we move there. Do you think I’d look cool?”

Giggling like a little boy, Rhys hummed happily before he turned away again, tending to the instant noodles he had prepared. The kettle switch flipping over as it reached its height, and you heard him pour out the water, the spoon clacking as he stirred the soup. “I think it will be perfect. Your parents think it will be lovely for us too, they hope we’ll be able to buy it, but with the good word they put in, I don’t think that’s unlikely.”

Rhys sighed. “It’s a wish come true.”

Bringing over the big bowl to the side of your bed, he snagged some noodles with a spoon, blowing to cool them down. “I wish you could have gone with us, but I know you are tired. Maybe when you are feeling better, we can go have a look together on our own.” Side-eying you, Rhys smiled. “That is, if you promise to be good for course.”

There it was again, his little reward games. As if saying ‘if you are good’ would actually make you comply with him, give you the epiphany to ‘behave’ like he wanted. It was the same with the noodles he ate in front of you, fully knowing that your stomach was growling. For as long as he could, he’d keep you unsatisfied just so you’d rely on him again for everything, out of your own free will. 

But whatever intentions there were between you two, they’d never be able to be fixed into the future he wished for.

Even if your life was bound to him for the rest of its pitiful timespan, you’d never willingly become what he wanted. Maybe in a few years, you’d stop fighting him. Perhaps you’d even live normally, but you’d never forgive and never forget. Never ever would you love him, not even close like he loved you. And if the chance arose, you’d always leave without a second thought.

To some part, you believed Rhys knew it. 

Even if everything would seem perfectly fine and your life would go on into a normal, daily habitual way, you’d never be happy or entirely what he imagined you to be. Even if you behaved and acted on his whims, cuddled him, had sex with him, it would never be the same as a consensual relationship between lovers. But by now, he had long discarded the reality in favor of his delusions, wanting nothing more than to seem as perfect as you had been at the beginning of your relationship.

“Hungry?” he asked, and you gave him a deep breath and a weak shake of your head. Setting aside the bowl to ungag you, he lifted your head. The movement gave you a new pang of headaches but knowing you’d get something to fill the emptiness inside of you was worth not collapsing. 

“I want to take you there,” he mused, slowly bringing the spoon to your napped lips. “I want to walk the beach with you and watch the sunsets for the rest of our life. Together.”

All you could do was quietly slurp your soup. There was no right answer to this. No matter what you said, he’d either get upset because he couldn’t believe your lies anymore, or it would disgruntle him. And so, you simply ate as he offered it to you, his wishes leaving his lips while you felt your own being pushed further and further into the back of your head, fearing that one day, you might not be able to remember them after all.

Continue

[writearctic]

Denying Love - oneshot

⚤︎ doctor!Yoongi & female reader

✔︎ uh… pretty much angst (but pt. 2 will have loads of fluff)

⌨︎ 3.6k

pt. 1 | pt. 2

hi hi !! this is part one of a two part soulmate series for yoongi. i really wanted this whole thing to be one part, but life decide to become busy… so here’s part one!

In high school, you met your soulmate. 

Well, you didn’t meet him per say. All soulmates dream of their special someone. Not consistently however. When about to meet for the first time, the couple would both experience vivid dreams- or rather, soon-to-be memories. But you were lacking clarity. 

You see, in these soulmate dreams, according to your best friend, Nayeon, you are supposed to see your soulmate’s face. You never have. And at 25, you were facing the reality that you never would. Nayeon met her soulmate when she was 21 at a college party. “I saw him so clearly in my dreams. And then, when I really saw him, it was so much clearer. Like deja vu- better a thousand times better.” You recalled her saying. Your dreams were so clear that some days when you’d wake, you’d realize how real they felt. You’d see his back, his shoulders, everything but his face. 

Being a fashion designer, you were busy but on your own schedule. Since you were fairly new at the full time job thing, you signed with a brand called Ailahns (aiee-lawns) as a designer. However, you were a “behind-the-scenes” designer which meant you wouldn’t fully receive credit. It worked for you as someone who needed the pay and didn’t fathom the spotlight. You’d frequent the places you’d see in your illusions during the free time you had hoping to meet up with your love. 

At 25, you were past the average age of meeting your other half. When you first began experiencing these vivid dreams in high school, you were thrilled. But now, having those ether-real views of someone who seemed like a fantasy almost daily was starting to take a toll on your health. 

“Does it ever stop hurting?” You sobbed into your best friend’s shoulder. 

“No y/n. You just start getting used to it,” replied Nayeon. She brought her hand to your head and began dabbing off the sweat with a wet cloth. “Look, y/n… I think you should- Y/N!!“ 

Your eyes flickered open then harshly shut. You slowly opened your eyes once more only this time, you were aware of the bright lights and the beeps of the monitor to your side. 

"Y/n, you’re awake.” Nayeon took your hand as she spoke. 

“What happ- am I ok?” You couldn’t remember for the life of you what happened. 

“You had another dream again. It must’ve been bad since you fainted on me.” Nayeon’s hand gripped yours a little tighter. “The doctor said you just had a panic attack and you’re likely not getting enough good sleep. I think he’s right too since you’ve been having more aggressive dreams and all." 

"I don't… I don’t remember,” you muttered. “What?” “Nayeon, I don’t remember the dreams. I don’t remember him. I didn’t even figure out who he was or what his face looked like! I’ll probably be alone for life now!” Your voice was shaking along with your body; you were panicking. Is this what you planned for me, fate? To be alone and in pain? 

“Y/n, calm down!” Nayeon called for a nurse as your EKG machine showed your heartbeat dramatically rising. 

“What happened?” Nurse Kang asked as she barged into the room. 

“I’m not sure.” Tears brimmed your eyes as Nayeon continued speaking. “She just woke up and was completely fine. Then, all of a sudden she just-" The door swung open, and your breath finally returned. Your heartbeat immediately dropped to normal. 

"Doctor Min, are you alright?” Nurse Kang asked as she saw the distressed doctor tumble into your room. 

“Wh-at happ-ened?” The doctor panted as he stepped closer to you. His gaze quickly shifted from you to the nurse. 

“It’s you.” Your eyes widened as your heartbeat steadily rose again out of joy and disbelief. 

“I’m a doctor if that’s what you mean,” he responded rather coldly. “No. I-I mean, you’re him.” All of your dreams came back to you the moment he walked into your room. This must be the deja vu Nayeon talks about, you thought.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” He turned away from you and quickly spoke to the nurse. “I’ll get Doctor Park since I’m causing her stress." 

"Actually, sir, you managed to calm her heartbeat by simply walking in. Perhaps you should switch to her doctor." 

"For my sake,” his stern gaze pierced your heart as he looked towards you as you trembled. This isn’t right, you thought. Love can’t be this cruel. “I can’t treat someone like her. I can’t care for someone who thinks I’m someone else. It’s not good for her health either." 

He turned to leave but paused when he heard your voice. "Min Yoongi, that’s your name. It’s beautiful,” you muttered a little too loud. 

“Y/n, how did you… he’s-” Nayeon wasn’t given the chance to finish when Yoongi slammed the door on your words. “-my soulmate." 

Your doctor was kind and professional, and you thought he did his job well. However, he wasn’t the person you wanted to see. Every time Doctor Park opened your door, your heart would speed up only to fall at the realization that he wasn’t Doctor Min. He requested you to stay for two more nights in case the dreams returned. 

They never did. As a precaution, he required that you see a psychologist to help you. “Here’s his card. Our doctors pass his name to their patients; he’s a favorite among patients and the doctors.” He gave you the card as you laid in bed. “I’m hoping you don’t come back.” He smirked as he walked away. 

“What does he mean by that?” You asked Nurse Kang. 

“Doctor Park says that often. He means it’d be sad to see you back in a hospital again.” She sighed as you nodded your head. “Here are your night pills; I’ll see you tomorrow to help you check out.” 

After taking the pills, you instantly fell asleep. But, rather than seeing Yoongi in your restless slumber, your dream that night was blurred- one you couldn’t see much of at all. It was nothing like the dreams that formally attacked you in the night. This one was calm and moved slowly. Someone, a male, reached towards your shoulder and gently grazed it as he tucked you in. It was nothing like the tormenting nightmares you’d been experiencing since you were a teenager. As you woke up to the shallow beeps of the EKG to your right, you sighed in content. I’ve never felt so rested before. 

That morning when Nayeon came to help you check out, you felt calm and relieved that your night terrors were finally gone. You felt perfect. That is until Dr. Min walked by you, not bothering to spare a look. You peered past Nayeon and traced his figure as it melted away. Your heart felt a soft but sharp ppang.

“Y/n. Y/n!” Your friend called.

“Hmm?” 

“Are you alright? Do you feel ill again?” 

“Ah, no. Sorry. I was lost in thought. Are we ready to go?” 

“You just need to sign the release papers.” She ushered you the papers followed by a pen to sign. 

“Thank you, girls. And y/n, I hope you recover well,” the receptionist smiled brightly as if she were trying to help your now ruined mood. Nayeon and you thanked her and headed to her car. “Are you alright?” 

“I’ve not even been out of the hospital for five minutes and you’re already worried,” you laughed. 

“No, y/n. I saw you look at him as he passed by. Are you alright?” Her question was firmer now. Your gaze shifted from the window to your hands that scrunched the fabric of your shirt. 

“Yes, Nayeon. I’m nervous about my future now. I mean, I’ve never felt so free, yet so attached at the same time. It feels like part of me is missing. A part I never even had.” 

“Maybe this is fate’s way of telling you to focus on other things. Like your career,” she suggested. You hummed in response as her car left the only place you’d ever see your soulmate. Or so you thought. 

The dreams began in his sophomore year of high school. 

At first, he neglected them. Sure, it was nice to know there’s someone destined for him, but unlike his friends’ dreams, he couldn’t entirely see you. Your face was a mystery to him. After a while, he became obsessed with finding out who you were. He went to Jin, a friend of his, who was studying psychology in college. 

“I need to figure out who she is,” Yoongi pleaded. 

“I don’t know if you’re meant to, Yoongi,” responded Jin. “The fact you’ve not seen her at all yet is likely something fate has decided for you.” 

“But, I don’t want to be alone.” A tear dropped from Yoongi’s gentle lashes. The thought of having the same dream forever would only be a harsh reminder that he was indeed alone. 

“Yoongi, you’re gonna be a doctor, man! There’s so much more to life than love. You wouldn’t even remember the word ‘lonely’ since your days will be crowded with people in your reality. And as a doctor, shouldn’t you know that no pill takes away a broken heart?” 

Jin was right. There are limited opportunities for him to take his mind off you. Throughout college, Yoongi worked hard. As a medical intern, he asked questions frequently and worked diligently under his elders. Jin really was right, he felt; however, Yoongi took Jin’s advice too far. Rather than adding more work to his schedule, he filled his schedule into only work throughout college. 

“Yoongi-hyung, you shouldn’t overwork yourself,” Taehyung remarked.

“I’m a doctor, Tae. I’ll know better than anyone when I’ve reached my limit,” he growled. Yoongi was not the social butterfly he was in high school. His world was his work- until he graduated. After graduation, Yoongi was offered a doctor promotion in the hospital he interned with. Of course, he gladly accepted. Being able to control his hours and truly be in charge of patients, Yoongi felt powerful. It boosted his pride- a little too much. 

Jin, now a licensed psychologist, invited, or rather forced, Yoongi to his office. Yoongi, without hesitation, stretched out along Jin’s emerald green, leather couch while Jin sat on his modern POANG chair. 

“So, how are you?” Jin started. 

“I’m fine. A bit busy, but fine.” 

“And how are your dreams?” 

“The same. I always see her but never her. Some mornings, I’ll wake up in a cold sweat yet feel overly hot and tired despite at least 6 hours of sleep,” replied Yoongi. 

“Are you eating and drinking well?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. When was the last time you woke up in the night due to your dreams?” 

“It happens at least once a week.” 

“And remind me- what does she look like?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“I don’t mean her face, Yoongi. I know you can’t see that.” Jin chuckled. “How about her hair maybe. Her figure? Her hands?” 

“I don’t know, Jin. And honestly, I don’t care.” 

“How come?” Jin’s expression changed. His eyebrows curled together, and he stopped vigorously scribbling notes on his pad that tended to be scribbles of butterflies or ladybugs. 

“I stopped minding her. I might sound unlikely or impossible to you, Jin. But, I see her in a way that I don’t. I recognize her since she’s the only thing I’ll dream of again.” 

“So, you’ve lost hope of ever seeing her thus why you don’t register her presence in your illusions, right?” 

“I gave up hope last time I was in this office and now you want me to get it back?” 

“Yes.” 

“What kind of psychologist are you?” Yoongi was tense. He sat up from the couch and stared into Jin’s eyes. 

“One who cares about his friend.” 

Yoongi scoffed. “Since when?” 

“Forever. You might not know it anymore seeing how your schedule’s fairly packed, but we take the time to ask you if you are, despite already knowing the answer.” Jin or someone from their friend group would always text Yoongi plans they made to get together. Yoongi denied all invites. “You’re so busy, Yoongi, that you’ve lost yourself. When I said to make yourself busy, I didn’t mean make yourself unavailable.” Jin insisted. “And I never once told you to forget her. I wanted you to see her as a goal you’d have to truly live to achieve.” 

“Bullshit.” Yoongi began pacing from wall to wall running his hands through his hair. 

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” 

“And I’m seriously trying to avoid it!” Yoongi threw his hands in the air. 

“Just sit down!” 

“Why? So you can lead me into messing up my life?” 

“Are you insane, Yoongi?” 

“Try me.” 

“It is my job to guide people into a better, safer, place. I under no circumstance asked you to lose yourself. Yet alone her.” 

“As a doctor,” Yoongi scoffed as he mocked Jin’s words from their last visit. “Shouldn’t you know you can’t lose something you’ve never had?” Yoongi sneered at him. 

“You’ve lost the one thing you did have Yoongi: hope for her.” Jin stood from his chair and looked at his watch. “Our session is over.” 

“Finally,” breathed Yoongi. 

“Oh, Yoongi, as your friend, would you like to come over and watch Bongo Cat memes with me and the guys?” Yoongi slammed the door. “You didn’t answer!” Jin shouted back. “Guess that means he’s a maybe.” 

_The more I trust others the more they mislead me. _Yoongi was pissed. He mistook Jin’s advice and led himself to forget you- the most important person to him. I can’t even see her anymore. He returned to the hospital rather than his home that night. He didn’t want to be alone. He was afraid he’d fall asleep and face the reality that he’d let you go. 

“Doctor Min, you’re back.” Nurse Kang was surprised to see him back on his night off. 

“I figured someone could take my help or company,” Yoongi shrugged as he picked up the patient files. He pretended to look through them, but he was still lost in thought. I don’t even know her name. How can I- 

“Doctor Min. It’s a shock to see you here tonight, but I’m glad you are,” Doctor Park announced. “Grandpa Choi has been refusing to take a shower tonight. He says he won’t take one unless you, and strictly you, help him. Apparently, you’re the gentlest.” 

Yoongi hummed and nodded at his senior and started towards the man’s room. 

“Doctor Park? Your wife is on the phone. She’s telling me it’s rather urgent,” Nurse Han insisted. The doctor sighed and walked towards his office, “I’ll take it in my office.” 

Yoongi was already towards the end of the hall when someone shouted for a nurse. He watched Nurse Kang race towards a room and knew she would take care of it. He opened the door to the staff stairwell and climbed up. Ppang. “What the-” He leaned against the wall as he clutched his chest with his free hand. Suddenly, you were in his mind. He wasn’t dreaming so why could he see you? 

Although you were blurred in his thoughts, he saw everything around your silhouette. You were standing on a platform- a runway of sorts he figured- surrounded by LED lights and camera flashes. His heart was beating hard and fast. He turned down the stairs and yanked the door open. He ran down the hall to the room Nurse Kang had stepped in just moments ago. He burst the door open. 

“Doctor Min, are you alright?” Nurse Kang asked him the second he lunged into the room. 

“Wh-at happ-ened?” He panted as he stepped closer to you. His heartbeat stilled and echoed the beats on your EKG machine. 

It’s you. 

And you were beautiful. He’d never seen your face and here he was believing he didn’t want to. But how could he live without seeing your precious face? His eyes met your gentle eyes and a soft smile curled on your lips. Shit. He felt his face getting hot. He quickly turned to Nurse Kang and took the file from her hands. He embedded himself into your chart. ‘Name: Y/f/n. Age: 25. Concerns: trouble sleeping, vivid dreams, fatigue, fainting spells.’ 

“It’s you.” Your voice was soft, and it made him weak. This isn’t real, Yoongi. She’s not here. This isn’t her. He composed himself and briefly met your lovely eyes. He coughed; “I’m a doctor if that’s what you mean.” 

“No. I-I mean, you’re him.” Your delicate words made his breath hitch. Would you stop talking?! He was angry. He changed. Not purposely of course. But he didn’t want someone, let alone you, to come into his life and ruin his perfect career. He didn’t know how to trust others enough for love. He closed your file roughly and shoved it towards Nurse Kang. 

“I’m sorry, Miss. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” His eyes tore away from you and faced the nurse. “I’ll get Doctor Park since I’m causing her stress.” He made it appear like he was worried about you, a patient, and rushed here to see if Nurse Kang could handle whatever reason the girl seated beside you yelled for help. 

“Actually, sir, you managed to calm her heartbeat by simply walking in. Perhaps you should change to her doctor.” And be around you more?! No way, his mind screamed at him. 

“For my sake,” he turned to look at you once more with a cold grin, “I can’t treat someone like her. I can’t care for someone who thinks I’m someone else. It’s not good for her health either.” 

He started towards the door and placed his hand on the handle only to stop when he heard your voice again. 

“Min Yoongi, that’s your name. It’s beautiful.” He shivered as his name slipped from your perfect lips. He looked down at his coat; he wasn’t wearing his badge. Shit; now I find you, and now I don’t want you. 

The girl to your left spoke: “Y/n, how did you…” Don’t you dare say it! His face was red in anger. His hand that rested on the door handle was now sweaty. His pulse was beginning to rise. He didn’t feel safe now. Your friend slowly turned towards him, eyes wide. “He’s-” 

The sound of the door slamming muffled all chances of her being heard. He was so harsh that for a second he wondered if he broke it. But that didn’t matter to him now. What mattered was getting away- from you. He leaned back on the door for a moment to catch his breath. He stood there a moment too long as he heard your trembling voice breathe: “My soulmate.” 

That’s it. He darted towards the floor’s lobby. “Nurse Han, sign me out. I’m going to catch up on some sleep,” he ordered. He was already down the public stairwell so that Nurse Han couldn’t stop him. 

The next morning when he woke, he realized the dreams were gone. He no longer had to see you. What a relief! He flopped back on his feathered mattress and sighed. He reached for his phone and called the office. He asked for a day of absence to rest. 

He called Jin next: “Jin! Let’s get together. You, me, everyone else. I’m finally free!” That night, he met with all 6 of his friends. He was carefree, and he’d never felt so alive. 

“So~ care to share how you got over her?” Namjoon asked as he sipped his glass of soju. 

“I denied her as my soulmate. A flat-out rejection.” 

“You what?!” Jin choked on his cola. “You met her?” Jimin prodded. “Wait, you rejected her?” Jungkook questioned. 

"Yea. But, I regret it. I panicked over the idea- no, the reality of it actually being her. I was lost in the idea of what we haven’t been to even see the picture of what we could be. I was angry and wanted nothing to do with someone who has brought me nothing but pain." 

“You want to get her back?” Jimin asked. 

“Yes. Yes, I really do. I’ve not even given this love a chance.” 

“Don’t worry, Yoongi-hyung,” a grinning Taehyung began, “We’ll help you get her back!” 

When he returned to his shift at the hospital the next day, he subconsciously avoided your room. It wasn’t until the end of his shift that he found whatever courage to finally face you. As he creaked your door open, his tired eyes beamed upon your sleeping figure. His steps were cautious and slow as he walked towards you. “Please forgive me, y/n. I need to learn how to trust others before trusting you and our love,” he whispered. His fingers brushed against your shoulder as he pulled the bed cover over you. 

The following day he unfortunately saw you. He walked past, not even glancing towards you. He knew you’d turn to look at him. He went to his office, closed the door, and slid to the floor. He sobbed. His heart hurt. “I don’t have the courage to fix my selfish mistakes. I’m not even sure how to,” he cried. 

He reached for his mobile and dialed Jin. “J..in.. I messed up.” 

“I know, Yoongi,” the phone spoke. 

“I want to.. No.. I need to change now, Jin.” 

“You will, Yoongi. You will.” 

He felt like a coward hiding from you as he watched you leave out his office window.

[itisannak]

Unexpected (Ashton Irwin Angst/Fluff)

Summary: (Y/N) finds out she is pregnant after her breakup with Ashton. Based on Angst Prompt #35: "About the baby... It's yours." (Request) (Words: 4.6k) ( Part 2 ) (Warning: While editing this, I started crying in the last paragraph, so, brace yourselves.) 

"Check the boxes that correspond to your symptoms and the doctor will call you in shortly." The nurse instructs me, handing me a form and a pen. I gulp thickly, trying to get rid of the lump that has nestled on my throat, while my hand shakily tries to grip on the little clipboard. She smiles at me before leaving, letting me drown in the silence around the waiting room. No one is here, and my mind is divided on whether or not this is a good or bad thing.

I scan the list quickly, my eyes refusing to focus on one item. My palms feel sweaty, damp, and warm as my head feels heavy and dizzy. 'When was your last period' 'Are you experiencing fatigue' 'Are you experiencing dizziness'' Are you experiencing any irregular food aversions' 'Are you experiencing cramping'... The list feels like it goes on forever; my body is trembling, this is so wrong...

The door opens and inside walks a couple; the woman looks around 4 months pregnant, cradling her belly as the man helps her sit comfortably on the chair. They both look happy, smiling at each other as their hands stroke the protruding bump. Definitely, the empty room was better.

"Mrs. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse announces, motioning me to walk inside the office. I hand her the form, which she puts along with some other papers in my file, and then hands it to the doctor who is sitting behind the desk. I sit on the armchair in front of the desk and stare at my hands as the doctor looks at my labs and checklist. "Well, from what I have in front of me, it looks like you are pregnant, Mrs. (Y/L/N). Your hCG is on the same levels as a third-month pregnancy. And your last period seems to fit. I would like to perform an ultrasound to make sure that we are facing pregnancy and not something serious." The doctor says to me. I tense up, feeling like someone is spilling cold water on my spine. "Are... are you sure that my results are correct? Maybe there was a mix-up..." I ask, digging my nails in my palm. The doctor looks at me in a way that shows she is trying to be compassionate but does not spark any feelings of it inside me. "We will confirm it with an ultrasound. But it is very unlikely to be wrong, based on your labs and symptoms." She replies. "Can we do it now?" I ask, composing myself together. "If it is what you want, yes." She assures me. I nod my head, closing my eyes and praying for all of this to be a joke.

The nurse hands me a paper gown and walks me to the examination room, prompting me to change as she walks out. I am left alone for barely 2 minutes, but to me, it felt like a century until the doctor walks in. "Are you ready?" She asks me as I lay on the examination table. "Yes." I simply reply as she preps the machine. "I am going to go transvaginally, to gain a better, clearer picture. You will feel some pressure but it will go away very soon. Spread your legs a little more for me." She instructs me, helping me scoot a little closer to her. "Take a deep breath." She prompts me, breathing along with me. I hold my breath while she does everything, waiting for her to tell me whether she was wrong or not. "There it is. And we have a heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?" She asks me. I feel tears brimming in my eyes, threatening to spill. I hesitate between my options, the news falling heavy on my shoulders. "Can you tell me how far along I am?" I ask and she nods. "Looks like 13 weeks." She replies. "I would like to hear the heartbeat." I reply, closing my eyes and covering them with my hand. The loud thud echoes in the walls, filling the room with it. Some part of me feels happy, screaming excitedly at the sound of my fetus's heart. "Is it... Is it healthy?" I ask. "Normal measurements, strong heartbeat. I would say yes." She replies. "I will give you a minute to process this and see you in my office." She states, getting up and walking out.

I gather my thoughts together, along with all the courage I have in me as I take the steps to the office. "So, I would like to talk to you about your options. First, you can..." She begins but I stop her. "I know my options, doctor. I wanna carry this baby." I state weakly. I can't believe I am saying those words until they are actually out of my mouth. "In that case, I would like to give you some prenatal vitamins, to make sure you and your baby continue to have a normal pregnancy. This far, everything looks good, and I would like to keep it that way. I want to see you again on week 17 for the next check. Do you have any diseases that we should worry about? Any family history that could be hereditary?" She asks me. "None that I know of." I reply. "Father's side?" She asks me. I feel like I have been punched in the gut, stomach twisting as I think of him. "No." I utter and she nods her head. "Great. You take your vitamins, avoid non-pasteurized foods, raw meat, or fish, take plenty of rest. If you drink or smoke you should consider cutting it. No heavy exercise, no activities that wear you down. On the next visit, we will draw some blood and urine, and then have an ultrasound to see if everything is going smoothly. If anything happens to you, you call me, no matter what time it is. Any questions?" She asks me. I feel overwhelmed with information, head buzzing already. "Can I have a picture of the ultrasound?" I ask and she chuckles. "Of course."

I lay on my couch, barely keeping my eyes open now; I've gotten heavy, moving has become a struggle and I am getting tired just by walking from my bed to my couch. All nausea that I skipped on the first few weeks is coming to me now, punching me in the gut all day long; the person who named it morning sickness was a fucking moron. "Can you at least start kicking? Or moving? It's the fun part..." I protest, poking around my stomach. In just a couple of weeks, I have developed a bump, nothing big, but surely it makes my clothes feel tighter. The doorbell ringing makes me groan, knowing that I will have to abandon my comfort, which I have just found, to open the door. I drag my feet along the floor, fixing my top to cover my belly, making the material stretch over the protruding stomach.

I open the door, finding Calum behind it. I stare at him shocked, eyes quickly landing on my stomach to meet his gaze. He stares with his mouth open, eyes going wide. I simply gesture him to come in, which he does, letting me shut the door behind him. "Ashton wanted me to come over and look for some clothes he has left here, said he needs them back." He says after a moment of complete silence. "Yeah, I have them in a tote for you. Let me get it..." I reply, walking to my closet and picking up the bag with my ex's clothes.

"How long?" He asks me. I don't even bother asking him what he is talking about or playing it dumb. "15 weeks..." I reply, not looking at him. "Does he know? Is that the reason you broke up?" He asks. "Calum..." I sigh and he shakes his head no. "He doesn't talk about it. And you haven't been around a while. Just tell me, I am still your friend." He almost demands. I stare at him, breathing in as I try to calm myself. "He doesn't know. I found out just 2 weeks ago. It's too late for us and I decided to keep it, raise it myself. And that's my final decision." I shake as I let out the words, a shiver running down my body as I feel my eyes brimming; stupid hormones. "2 weeks ago? How did you miss that?" He asks me. "Calum, I was sad. I didn't know what was normal function and whatnot. Can we fucking stop this conversation? I've had enough self-pity to last me the rest of my pregnancy." I snap. Calum stares at me shocked; I've never talked to anyone like that before. "Right. Are you both ok?" He asks me, softening as he speaks. "We are. Well, I am nauseous and tired, but the baby was fine last time we had a check-up." I sit on the couch, feeling like I am getting tired every second I stay standing. "Alright then." He smiles at me. "Swear on my baby's life that you won't tell Ashton. Or anyone." I place my hand on my stomach tenderly. "(Y/N), I can't do that. He has the right to know about it. Maybe that will change things, maybe you two will get back together." He takes his pleading eyes. "No. I don't want him involved and I am not asking anything from him, so he doesn't have the right to know. For all he cares, I just fucked around after him and got a baby, if he ever finds out about it. And for sure I don't want him back just for the baby. It was pretty clear we don't have a future together, so he doesn't have a say in this. It's my baby, mine. Just mine." I almost burst down in tears, trembling as I stare at Calum with tear-glazed eyes. "Ok, ok, you are right. At least, just let me help you. You don't have to be alone in this, and I certainly don't want you going through it by yourself. Let me help you, run your errands, come with you at doctor's visits. Just let me do that." He sits next to me, hugging me and running his hand over my arm. "Not on doctor's visits. But I'll take all the help I can." I mumble and he nods. "Is there anything I can do for you now? Anything." He suggests. "I have been too tired and dizzy to go grocery shopping. Can you do that for me?" I ask him and he nods. "Anything, darling. If it means I get to be the godfather, of course." I know he is just teasing me, and I can't help but laugh; I haven't done that in a hot minute. "God, you are a tough negotiator, aren't you, Hood?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

Once more, I find myself sitting alone in a waiting room full of expecting parents, mothers, and fathers quietly chatting about their babies, stroking their bumps, and sharing their thoughts together. Every time I am here, I get reminded that I am going through all of this by myself, every time I leave the doctor's office, I have to stop myself from driving to Ashton's place and telling him.

My hand rests on my stomach, rubbing my thumb over the top of it. I really want to cry, I wish Ashton was here, supporting me through this. "Ms. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse calls, exiting the examination room. I pick up my purse, walking fast inside. The nurse helps me get on the table, fixing my clothes and placing tissues on the edge of my blouse and jeans.

"So, (Y/N)... Your samples came back, I will give you some iron supplement for your iron levels. But other than that, everything looks good. And your weight should go up a little, but nothing that worries me for now. How are you feeling?" The doctor asks me as she takes a seat on the little stool by the exam bed. "I feel nauseous, almost all day long, and so tired..." I reply and she hums. "Iron will fix the nauseousness and that will give you a little more energy. Shall we take a look at your baby?" She asks, grabbing the bottle of gel. I nod my head, sitting up a little better so I can take a look at the screen. "You are 17 weeks, right?" She asks me and I hum. "Crown to rump, the measurements are great; 5 inches long, 5 ounces and a quarter heavy, which is really nice, up to the standard... And the heartbeat is still, very strong. Mommy is doing a good job. Do you want me to tell you the gender?" She asks me, looking up to me; I freeze for a second, thinking about it. "Sure..." I mumble and she smiles. "It looks like you are having a boy." She cheers for me, giving me a big smile. My heart drops to my stomach; a part of me feels warm and happy, a baby boy is something Ashton and I always dreamed of, and another part of me fears the moment I will look down at my son's face and he will remind me of his father.

"Brought you pizza and some groceries... How was the doctor's visit?" Calum asks as he places the pizza box on the coffee table; I have given him a copy of my keys, just in case I need him, so it is nearly normal for him to drop by whenever he has a spare hour. "Thank you. It was fine, the doctor gave me some iron capsules and told me I need to put on a little more weight, but everything is ok. I found out the gender today." I state as he takes a seat on the couch. "Really? Boy or girl?" He asks, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Boy. 5 inches tall and 5 and a half ounces heavy. Really strong heartbeat." I reply and he hums happily, smiling so big that his cheeks look chubby. "Darling, that is amazing. Congrats." He cheers, pulling me in for a hug. "I guess so." I huff, falling back to rest my back against the couch cushion.

"(Y/N), have you thought... about telling him..." Calum looks at me softly, gulping thickly. "Every time I drive back from the doctor. Or whenever I can't sleep at night because of the extra belly... But I told you, I don't want him back just because of the baby." I reply. I watch him contemplate for a moment like he is scared of spilling his mind. "What is it, Cal?" I sigh and he shakes his head, brushing me off. "Nothing." He mumbles, knitting his eyebrows together. "You don't look like you have nothing to say. Just tell me." I sigh frustrated, looking at him interrogatively. "Ashton has a girlfriend now. He seems ok, happy I guess. I don't think he is coming back." He shrugs, trying to sound comforting. "One more reason not to tell him. He has moved on, this will complicate things. It's better that way." I reply; I feel my throat dry up, a knot forming on it. "I am sorry." He seems sympathetic, truly sorry. "Don't be. It's not your fault he moved on." I reply, biting my tongue as I try not to break down crying in front of him. "Yeah, but I told you he did." He mumbles under his breath. "It's ok, Cal, I promise. Can I have some of that pizza? Just the smell makes me salivate." I point at the box and he nods. "Can I ask you something?" I ask Calum as he gets back from putting my groceries in place. "Sure." "Why are you doing this? I mean, why are you here, helping me, treating me so nicely?" I ask him while he sits on the couch. "I am not in love with you if that's what you are asking. You were there for me at my darkest moments, and I want to be here for you now that you are going through this. I know it can get hard, and I know it can be harder if you are alone. And I don't want this for my best friend... Nor my godchild..." He giggles at the end, making me laugh as well.

I can barely walk from the front gate of Calum's house to his door, the now huge belly getting me off balance. Every morning I wake up, I swear that I will pop, so even walking is hard now. But since little peanut is about to come, I decided to get Calum a little something, officially ask him to be the baby's godfather. He has truly been my rock, helping me through everything even though he gains nothing out of this. He opens the door for me, smiling brightly.

"Hey, mama. Looking good." He cheers as he moves to help me stand straight. "Thanks, I am trying my best. Sorry for dropping by with such short notice." I apologize as we walk in, closing the door behind. "It's fine. You could have just called me and I would come over, no need to come by now that you are due." He states, helping me sit down on the couch. "I wanted to get out of the house. And walking helps with labor, and nowadays I will do anything to get this little guy out." I chuckle and he hums. "Can I get you anything?" He asks and I nod. "Just some cold water. But before you go, I want to give you something." I reach in my purse, fishing the little gift bag out. "You shouldn't have." He coos and I shake my head no. "This one was really needed." I hand him the gift and wait for him to open it. "It's small, but I wanted you to have it." I state as he opens the small bag. He reaches in for the box, fiddling with it before opening it. "World's best godfather... Wow..." He chuckles. "I never really asked you officially, so here you go." I smile and he coos. "It's great. And it's a great honor to become this little fellow's godfather. I promise to do my best." He leans down to hug me, rubbing his hand over my back.

I wince as he pulls back, jolting a little at the sudden cramp. "What? Did I squeeze you too hard?" He asks me. "No, I have those little cramps today. I'll be fine, don't worry." I assure him, resting back. "Ok, I'll bring you the water. Try to relax..." He walks to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch, with Duke whining as he begs for a pat on the head.

I reach down, giving the pup a scratch behind his ears. I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen, spreading from my lower stomach. And then I feel wetness spreading down my thighs, making me goggle. "Cal..." I scream, panicking as I try to sit up. "What?" He shouts back, peeping from the kitchen. "Something is wrong..." I whimper, feeling my breath become shallow. "What do you mean wrong?" He asks worriedly, rushing to me. "I think my water just broke..." I wince, the pain only worsening. "Fuck... Oh, fuck..." He brings a hand to rub over his face. "I think I messed your couch, I am so sorry." "Yeah, I don't care about the couch right now... A human is about to come out of you..." He helps me stand straight and breathe a little better. "I think I should head to the hospital..." I let out after I finally ride through the pain. "I am driving you there." He suggests, picking up my purse and his keys and phone as we walk out. He lets me put my weight on him as we walk slowly out of the door, knowing that rush movement will not really help.

"Cal? (Y/N)?" I hear someone call, a voice almost too familiar, yet so alien. I raise my gaze, finding Ashton looking at us shocked. I let out a scream, partially due to a contraction, partially because the universe literally chose the worst moment for me to stumble upon Ashton. "Breathe..." Calum reminds me. "Are you going to keep staring at us, or help me get her in the car?" Calum barks at Ashton who scans me in an effort to figure out what is going on. He hesitates to touch me, which only makes me feel more awkward; as if that was needed right now.

Holding my son feels rewarding, after all these hours of labor. He is fast asleep after being breastfed, but I refuse to hand him to the nurse, I refuse to let them take him away from me, even if it means they are taking him to the nursery so I can rest. "Ma'am, I promise he will be fine. I will spend the night with him, I swear." The nurse pleads, huffing in frustration. I am on the verge of crying, but finally give in, handing the bundle of joy back to the nurse. "He is so tiny... Please be careful." I sniffle, looking over as she puts him in the little bassinet. "We will bring him over again in the morning... Try to rest a bit." She suggests, rolling him away.

I sit in silence, thinking about how it will be now that I will have a little human totally depending on me. Up until now, I thought that the hardest part would be being pregnant, but I have barely been alone for an hour, and my heart is already aching that he is away. "Do you have a moment for a visitor?" Calum knocks on the door, almost hiding behind a huge bear. I chuckle, wiping away my eyes as he comes in. "Did you see your godson?" I ask, smiling at him. "He is gorgeous... You are a hero, really." He leans into peck on my forehead, leaving the teddy on the armchair next to the bed. "I begged them to let him stay in the room with me, but they didn't listen..." "Probably for the best, you need to rest." He replies, smiling at me. "You too. You shouldn't have stayed so many hours." I state but he brushes my comment off. "I wanted to. I had to make sure you were both fine." He explains and I nod. "What did you tell Ashton?" I ask, looking at my fingers. "Nothing. I told him it is your story to tell. He is actually waiting outside with me. (Y/N), I truly think you should tell him." He sighs. I feel my eyes brimming with tears, my heart dropping to my stomach just at the thought. "Isn't it a bit too late?" I ask and he shakes his head. "Never too late." He assures me. "You are only suggesting I tell him because you are tired of helping me." I joke and he chuckles. "The choice is yours, darling. But I will never be tired of helping you or the baby." He softens, pressing his lips on my forehead.

Calum walks out after a while, leaving me alone again. I fix the pillow behind my back, grabbing my phone from the nightstand next to me, hoping to distract myself until the adrenaline from the labor subdues and I finally feel sleepy. "Do you have a minute for me?" I hear someone from the door of the room, making me avert my eyes from the phone. The voice alone causes my heart to jump out of my chest, a familiar warmth spreading in my body. Even after so long, even after all these months of not being in his presence, I still feel the same as I did every time I saw him. "Come in." I smile, letting my phone back on the table. He is hesitant, I can tell, walking inside slowly, calculating where he should sit.

The is a moment of silence between us, no one even daring to take a breath. "It's good to see you after all these months." He is the one to break the silence, making me nod my head. "You too." I mumble. "I wondered why you disappeared, our friends found it strange you caught off from them. Now I see you had your reasons to do that." He mumbles, still not looking at me. I take a deep breath, my head feeling dizzy as I think of a way to let it out. "Congrats on the baby." He smiles at me, looking at me for the first time since we started talking. "About the baby... It's yours..." I barely whisper the last part, my body trembling as I finally admit it. "I know." He responds. "How?" "I did the math in my head when I saw you at Calum's house. And I saw the baby. He is my spitting image, and I felt it in my bones that he is mine." He replies and I let out a shaky breath. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asks me, putting me on the spot straight away. "I wanted to... Every time I left the doctor's office, I wanted to come and tell you. But I always postponed it... And then Calum told me you have someone new in your life, and I really didn't want to ruin it for you. So, I decided to do everything on my own. Either way, I made the choice to keep him without asking you or taking your opinion. I want you to know that I am not asking you for anything, you don't have any obligation to us." I rush to explain, making him chuckle. "I have someone in my life, yeah. But this is my kid too, and I told you I felt him in my bones he is mine, I want him to be mine. And I know you are not asking for anything, but I want to be in his life, I want to be in yours, help you with everything you need. I know we are not together anymore, but he was made out of love, he is a product of true love. I know you and I will not be together as a couple again, but the baby, this baby will have both his parents, and he will get love from both his parents." He assures me, reaching to take my hand in his. "Thank you." I whisper. "You don't have to thank me. Listen, the next few days will be a PR nightmare, people might call you or contact you for a comment. Let me handle all of that. Don't get tangled in this mess." He suggests. "I don't think I will have time for that, either way." I chuckle. "Does he have a name?" He asks but I shake my head no. "No... But he has a godfather. I chose Calum, he was there for me throughout this. I know you don't mind." I reply and he laughs softly. "I don't. Either way, he would have been the godfather... Do you have everything you need for the baby?" He asks me, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, everything is ready, Calum will bring me my bag tomorrow." I reply, yawning a little. "I should get going, you should rest. Do you mind if I come again in the morning? I want to see the baby again." He asks me, unsure of how I am going to respond. "Not at all. Come straight here, so you can hold him if you want." I suggest and he nods. "I would love that, thank you." He gives me a smile, standing up from the chair. He leans in, pressing a kiss on my forehead before he turns to leave, letting me by myself once more. Only this time, yearning for the moment I will see him again.

My Masterlist /  Part 2

[fandom-necromancer]

Special places

This was prompted by the awesome @valyurse! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

It was evident Detective Gavin Reed wasn't a man for gossip. Sure, it could be interesting, even more so if one was a goddamn asshole with no real interest in socialising beyond his personal circle. He didn't know when he lost interest in rumours; he was pretty sure that it was Elijah's fault though. In any case this was the reason Gavin was more or less oblivious to the precinct talking about Nines in hushed tones. When they thought the android was out of hearing range, they started whispering so loud even Gavin silenced them from time to time. He hadn't heard what they were talking about, he wasn't interested, and his brain supplied the fitting filter, but that constant background noise was starting to form a real nasty headache. They looked at him as if he just declared Connor president, but at least stayed silent for a bit. Gavin counted it as a success and got back to work without thinking about it.

'Hey, Nines, any thoughts on the Williamson case?', he asked into the room without looking up from the papers he was rearranging for the hundredth time already. He needed new input, a new perspective, hell he would be fine just talking to the android right now. It was one of these days that didn't want to pass at all. The minutes crept along, stretched endlessly. But there was no answer. 'Hey, Nines, what-' He started repeating himself. Maybe he just hadn’t heard him. He looked up in the process just to find his colleague's seat empty. Immediately he started scanning the precinct for his trademark straight posture and crossed arms behind his back. But although the tall android was like a beacon, Gavin failed to find him.

'Hey, anyone seen the tin-can?', he called out to the other officers in the bullpen and most shook their head. 'Thankfully not', officer Person said then and earned a few chuckles. 'What's that supposed to mean?', Gavin snarled coldly. 'Ah, just this... you know.' 'No I don't.' And suddenly he could see how Person had realised he should not say what he was about to. 'What is it that has you thankful the toaster isn't here?' 'Come on Reed, you know that's no secret.' Still trying to wiggle himself out of his grip, but Gavin was having none of it. 'Please, then tell me. If it isn't a secret, then I see no reason why you shouldn't tell me.' 'It's just his attitude. You know that. How he's all “beep boop, I'm a robot, let me tell you a story how I found out humans need nutrients“. Come on, no one wants to hear that. If he can't talk normal, he could just not do it. I mean, it must be awkward for him, too, right?'

Gavin didn't know what overcame him, but there suddenly was a cold rage inside him he hadn't felt ever since being partnered up with the thing. 'Officer Person, how about you shut the phck up? Because clearly, you don't have anything important to say, either. Also, I'm pretty sure that's racist or something.' 'What do you care?', the man called back at him, although Gavin had already thought to have successfully put him in his place. 'You were pretty anti-android a year ago. What do you care so suddenly?' Gavin whirled around and beat his hands on the man's table, enjoying how he flinched in turn. 'He is my phcking partner, Person.' He straightened himself again and spoke into the precinct as a whole. 'Really, it tells a lot about you guys that the city-known asshole has to stand up for him. But hell, if no one else does I'll be damned not to. Now where the phck is my damn android?' No one answered him, but Gavin hadn’t expected anyone to. God, there really was a reason he kept few friends and them very close. He just stormed off, thinking about where he would go to when he was an android without a social module and that seemingly everyone was an asshole to.

The toilets were his first thought, but there was no reason for a machine to be there. So maybe not. The break room was empty, and Gavin quickly ran out of options. There only was the archive-room left, but would that tin-can really choose the one place Gavin always fled to himself? It was worth a try and Gavin made his way downstairs. The light was switched off, but that wasn’t a problem for the android. Gavin contemplated flipping the switch, but decided not to, as he walked deeper into the room. Of course, he couldn’t see shit, and this must be ridiculous should the android not be here. But if he was…

‘Gavin you need the light to see.’ ‘Nines?’ Gotcha. ‘Yes, Detective?’ ‘What are you doing here all alone?’ Suddenly a little rectangle of light glowed up and illuminated the palm underneath as well as the surrounding area together with that red LED, the light blue and crimson contrasting each other. But Gavin could see again and quickly made his way over to the android. ‘Filing some documents.’ Okay, that was an obvious lie if Gavin had seen one. ‘Nice. Need some help?’ ‘That would be nice, thank you.’ They “worked” in silence and complete darkness, taking out completely random documents and putting them back in their exact same place. ‘What are you really doing down here. Be honest with me’, he said, as it was becoming clearer, Nines wasn’t going to talk by himself. ‘This is my special place. A place to go when you have nothing interesting to say and your stories are boring.’

‘Oh, that’s… nice.’ Gavin had hoped the android wasn’t aware of the others conception of him. But of course, he was. Military grade detective android. What had he expected, really? ‘Everyone has one, right?’ Nines had stopped in his tracks, the android simply was frozen right there and then, his face the only moving part as he cautiously sought Gavin’s eye contact. ‘Hmm? Yeah…’ Gavin grew uncomfortable under these eyes. He was used to them evading every look and if once crossing the same path being emotionless like the glass eyes of a puppet. Now there simply was too much emotion in them. He swallowed hard and pushed the document back into its place. ‘Yeah, I actually come down here, too.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Oh, you know… When I can’t contain myself. Gonna keep that collateral down, am I right?’ He chuckled to play over the awkwardness of it all. Did they really just have this conversation? ‘We all have our limits, toaster. Not just you.’ 'Are you down here because of this right now? Because you have reached your limit?' 'You could put it like that. No, you know what? Yes, it's exactly like that.' 'Do you want me to leave then?', the toaster asked. 'No. Stay.' 'May I ask what happened?' 'Someone hurt a friend of mine. Can't let them get away with that.' Gavin chuckled and waited for the penny to drop.

'Oh, I see', Nines answered in a way that proved he absolutely didn't get anything. 'You know what, toaster? I don't only have one special place. Would you like to see the other one?' 'If you want to share it with me Detective.' 'Perfect. Come follow me!'

 Gavin walked out of the archive-room, Nines following close. He walked up the stairs and only came to a halt at the edge of the bullpen. He held out his hands to point at the entirety of it. 'This is also a special place of mine, toaster. The special place of mine to be a complete and utter asshole to everyone and especially those who wronged me and my friends.' With a smirk he leaned closer to the android. 'I don't know about you, but I think this space has room for two. How does that sound?' He leaned back and stared into the faces of his co-workers grinning devilishly, before looking back up to the android to see his reaction. It would be exaggerated to say Nines was always expressionless, but Gavin had never seen a smile that big on his face.

'That sounds very nice.'

[youllallriseintheink]

Early Ink Hell, Chapter 3

---Sammy Lawrence---

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, my lord finally came, seeping through the doorway into our prison like a creature of liquid salvation. He took his sweet time, strolling through the rows of cages and reaching through the bars to give each ink creature a gentle touch. They screamed and writhed as though they were in pain. Ingrates. I thought that I could handle it better. At a certain point he heard another ink creature- I couldn't see which, but I'd guess it were Alice- ripping a vent off the wall, but that merely distracted him from the task at hand. When he finally reached my cage, I dropped to my knees and held out my hand for him, humbled. I'll admit- I was wrong about being better than them at accepting his gifts, but only because of how much it burned. It was a burning- a melting- searing through my entire body! I screamed. I cried. But I looked into his... where his eyes would have been... with love, and I held onto his hand until I finally lost consciousness.

---Susie Campbell---

Alice attempted to consume me as I watched the ink demon tormenting the other ink creatures, saying that if I turned myself over to her, she'd protect us. I didn't listen. The vent was thick enough for me to crawl through, and so I made my way out. I honestly should have thought to do this before, but I guess nothing greases the wits like desperation. At times, the vents were so steep I was more climbing than crawling. Finally, I came to an outlet. I heard voices- human voices! Still, I chose to stay still for a moment, make sure that whatever those voices belonged to, they meant well. Finally, I saw it- a group of people. Real, in-colour, people! I pushed against the grate, but it wouldn't come off.

"Over here!" I called out, and they came to my aid.

---Sammy Lawrence---

The next thing I was aware of was a steep drop to the floor. It took me no time at all to figure out where I was- I was at the gates of the ink machine room. The ink machine was chugging along furiously- as though it was jammed. I supposed, if it was being made to reproduce all of those ink creatures at once, it would make sense that it was overworked. There was butcher gang trio in the corner of the room, but no other ink creatures. As well, the room's textures had not gone back to normal, and neither had my disgustingly inky, black body. My lord must still have still wanted me for something. To spread the word perhaps! The butcher gang trio looked fairly intact, and coming out physically appropriate and coming out with the correct dominant presence tend to go hand-in-hand, so I approached them.

"Excuse me? Would you have a moment to talk about our future saviour, Bendy?"

The Charley turned to look at me, turned back to the others, and said, "that's the guy who helped kill me! Let's get him!" and with that, they were chasing after me, but thankfully not very quickly, with their short little legs. After turning a few corners, the sound of their chattering died down. I found myself in the music department, which was strange, given that I didn't recall the ink machine chamber being so close to it. I felt the need to go someplace private and regroup my thoughts, so I did the ritual to open up my sanctuary. Thankfully, it worked. At least some things about this world remain unchanged. Just as I'd struck the last cord on the violin, right down the hall from my sanctuary, I heard a scream. I turned, and learned exactly what had become of Norman Polk.

---

I wasn’t sure how long I’d spent huddled in my sanctuary. Days, probably. Maybe weeks. The last thing I remembered before that was running from the monster that had once been Norman Polk. I have sealed myself up here for protection, and to wait for my lord's commands. I had only twice ventured out of my sanctuary. The first time was to take an extremely wishful try at the front door. As I would have assumed, it was locked. The second time was to gather up a cutout of Bendy and as much Bendy memorabilia and supplies for my rituals as my arms could carry. During both times had been late at night, and I made as little noise as I could, in an attempt to avoid others. That encounter with the Butcher Gang had showed to me that that I would be none too loved by anyone if I came out now.

So if not to convert others, what was my purpose? What did my lord want of me? No matter how I tried, I couldn’t seem to figure that out, nor figure out what had happened. But Bendy must have had something to do with it, surely. At no time in which we practiced Satanism together had I gotten the impression that either of us was capable of something like this. Bendy, a creature capable of manipulating ink, and that I’ve long speculated to be the reason the ink machine was capable of the impossible, was the obvious candidate for why the world and my body have betrayed me. It might have been a long-shot, but I nonetheless found myself praying to a Bendy cutout, knowing that Bendy could hear me through it. After enduring days of its silence, I began to beg it for a response.

Maybe this was Bendy’s revenge for imprisoning him.

I could remember all the screaming from when the studio had just newly turned sketchy. It had gradually calmed down- perhaps people finding a way to escape, or simply adjusting to their new life. One highly muffled call, however,  coming seemingly from directly beneath me, was still there. It hadn’t moved in days, so it most likely was trapped.  What could have been directly below me? I was on the bottom floor (although it seemed that the geography of the studio was shifting). The only thing that came to my mind was the sewers. The sewers! Jack had mentioned hiding in the sewers to get away from the noise of the ink machine. Well, that did it- I had to find Jack. And at least in the sewers, I was unlikely to run into anyone.

I got up at once and headed for the sewers, grabbing an axe along the way for protection. The sewers didn’t smell of sewage anymore, only ink. I passed a desk that must have been set up by Jack, assuming it wasn't just another example of the studio rearranging itself. The call was getting clearer- I was sure it was Jack’s voice now, and it was definitely a call for help. Finally I came upon him. He was laying on his back, his leg caught in the gears of some machinery that looked to be from the ink machine. I dropped the axe and ran to him. Jack screamed again, and it occurred to me that I currently looked like an inky abomination.

"Shh... it's alright, Jack. It's me, Sammy Lawrence. I'm here to help you."

“Sammy. Oh, thank goodness. Please help me out of here.”

“Of course. How?”

“There’s a lever on the wall to your right. If we’re lucky, it’ll make the gears turn the right  way, and this machine will spit my leg out. If we aren’t lucky, well,  turn it off quickly and hand me the axe. Alright?”

I agreed,  and did as I was asked, looking carefully at the gears as I gently pulled the lever. Thankfully, the gears were attempting to turn the right way, and with my help, Jack was able to pull out his leg. It looked thoroughly crushed, but at least it was still attached. According to Jack, it didn’t even hurt. It was also covered in gooey ink.

“How did this happen?” I asked.

“About the same time that the place went sketchy, the machinery started  growing. I went to investigate, and- just my luck-  the ground just opened up beneath me, and the next thing I knew, my foot was caught in gears and getting dragged halfway up the wall. Thankfully, it seems like it’s calmed down since. Hasn’t moved at all in many days.”

“Days? Oh, Jack. Come back to my sanctuary with me. You must be starving.”

And that’s what we did. Thankfully Jack was still able to walk, albeit with a limp. Once we were safe in the sanctuary and had some bacon soup in our stomachs (though Jack seemed to struggle to choke it down. I tried to ignore that- lack of appetite and aversion to liquid were symptoms of ink infection), Jack finally asked that uncomfortable question:  “Sammy, I know you were, uh... messing around... with Mr. Drew. Do you have  any idea as to what happened here?” There was no accusation in his  voice, but I still felt under attack.

“No. I had nothing to do with all this!” I snapped, before I could stop himself.

“I’m not accusing you. I just know you know about the supernatural. Don’t you have any idea at all?”

“Right. Apologies, Jack. I do have my... ideas, but they’re something I have to  work on myself. Anyhow, they probably hate me out there, but you don’t  have that problem. You’re better off finding other people to live with, out there. But let’s at least get the ink off your foot before you go.” Hopefully it was merely on his foot.

Jack attempted to claw the ink from his foot, but it was as though it was endless. All his efforts  gave him was a clawed-off foot. And by the looks of it, no pain. The ink then re-attached  itself to his ankle. “S-Sammy? Did you see that?”

I nodded in resignation resignation, then knelt down to examine the infected area. In addition to his foot being gone and replaced by an inky stump, Jack's entire calf was purple, with inky black veins reaching up into his thigh. Those gears must have caused an open wound, which allowed the ink to get in.

“W-what’s happened to me?”

“Jack..." I looked into his eyes. This wouldn't be easy to say. "You've been infected by ink. We need to amputate your leg, or you're going to end up looking just like me.”

"Oh... Well, where are we going to do that? D-do you think ink creatures can smell blood?"

"I don't know. I guess, the best thing we can do is to find where there's people, and failing that, get you to the infirmary and do it ourselves. But first, we should get to a bathroom so you can drink some water. It is honestly a miracle you aren't totally transformed by now, and even more amazing that it's progressed this slowly while you were dehydrated."

---

The two of us had been walking in silence a while when I decided to try and tell Jack the truth. If anyone would listen, it would be him. It took him quite a while to figure out the sanest-sounding possible way to explain everything. “Alright, Jack. Maybe I should tell you my ideas. You see, the ink machine is supernatural, and it’s not just that little thing that we lift up with chains. There lies a much bigger one- the size of a church- in the basement. Joey and I were the only ones who knew of it, and we used it to make supernatural creations. And at the very core of the machine, something is trapped. I’ve heard it pounding and scratching at the walls. And Jack, Joey and I had practiced the occult together before, but the things this ink machine let us do were beyond any of that. Towards the end, Joey even told me that it was the forces that be that were making me look like this. The creature calls himself Bendy. He sees through cutouts, and he controls ink,” Sammy examined Jack’s face for signs of disbelief. Thankfully there weren’t any yet. “And it gets even more bizarre. I think that Joey Drew imprisoned one of the old gods we used to pray to. Enslaved it so we could do the impossible with the ink machine. And all this is just a sign of it having full control of its powers again. Through the cutout in my sanctuary, I’ve been begging it to let me go. Jack, if we get it on our side, it will set us free.”

By now, Jack was staring at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “Come again?”

“I know that sounds bizarre, but look around you. Nothing of this conventional, and neither will be our escape. The only way out is to please the ink demon.”

“Okay. Well, if that’s the case, we need to tell everyone. Even if that’s not the case, we at least need to tell everyone not to let the ink eat them.”

“I don’t think so, Jack. People will be upset, and-“

A familiar roar emanated from the walls. The projectionist’s roar. We scampered out of the room so not to be cornered and found themselves nearly face-to-face with the monster. “Run!” I commanded, before beginning to tear down the hall. Looking back, I could tell that Jack, limping on his ink foot, was doomed unless something was done. I threw my axe, and in a stroke of sheer luck, it landed in the middle of the projectionist’s head. The projectionist wobbled backward, stunned. Jack tore the axe from the creature’s head, and, in an act of extreme cleverness or extreme stupidity, threw it as hard as he could down the hall. The projectionist turned away from to investigate the sound. At the other end of the hall was a little miracle station. It could barely fit the both of us, but this was a matter of survival. We watched the projectionist idly wander past and stayed in the station for several minutes afterward.

"And what I care about is your safety. I have my sanctuary to return to, and after we find someone to amputate your leg, I will be returning to it."

Jack protested that I should join the other humans as well, and we argued a while, but eventually Jack relented. We walked a bit until, in the far distance, they saw a young woman collecting bacon soup cans. The two of us ducked around the corner, and I whispered. "Alright, Jack. Go talk to her and see if she can bring you to the others. If she can't, come back to me. And if not," I gave Jack a hug, "Best of luck."

Jack hugged him back. "Thanks Sa-"

"Not so loud. Don't scare her away!"

Jack lowered his voice. "Right. I really do hope you join us, though. I bet people will be more forgiving than you think."

With that, he left. I could hear the girl promising to take Jack to a place she was calling "the village." All seemed well, so I made my way back to his sanctuary.

[barryhuff]

Nostalgiaholic - The Remix

When I used to look up at the night sky alone as a child, I imagined a sinister, infinite, black, blanket sprinkled with glitter. Although, when my eyes followed the tip of my Uncle Jon’s finger, as he both traced celestial, stick-figures in the same sky and narrated their mythic, Greek stories, space always transformed from that lifeless blanket and into a destination to be explored. 

Jon, at times, was so inspired by space and space travel, he filled canvases dedicated to the filtered visuals he discerned.  As a dedicated science-fiction nerd, his paintings certainly had their share of stylized spaceships, laser beams, and explosions.  But as an equal part, planetarium-loving, star chart-studying, telescope-owning, amateur astronomer, Jon’s celestial backgrounds were wild, bubbling layers of greens, whites, blues, and reds, instead of a simple, flat, all-consuming blackness. Those paintings showed the cosmos as a tangible, topographic map ready to be explored, and not a deep, infinite sea of loneliness. 

That being said, I used to daily study a picture Jon painted of an astronaut floating upside down in the aurora borealis lights of Jon’s interpretation of space.  The figure held tight to the lifeline coming from his spacesuit at the waist with his left hand.  However, the same lifeline extended from the suit like a piece of floating spaghetti getting smaller, until it vanished in the distant horizon.  His right hand (so big that it appeared to explode from the canvas), desperately reached out for salvation.  

The reflective shield on the helmet hinted at the impending doom of the astronaut.  The reflection didn’t show a ship or even another hand reaching back, instead there were simply more endless miles of lively, colorful flashes of the space setting to die alone in.

No matter how much I wanted to imagine hope for the character, there was none… at least for him.

I often wonder if Jon’s painting was inspired by one of his favorite movies, the 1968 Stanley Kubrick classic 2001: A Space Odyssey.   When it finally, came on network T.V. one Saturday afternoon in the 1980s, I was excited to see it.  Hell, if Jon liked it, I would certainly like it.

False.  It turns out there were two barriers to me enjoying 2001: A Space Odyssey --  Star Wars and silence. 

One summer, my brother and I bragged about watching Star Wars 47 times on HBO.

I thoroughly enjoyed "The Bar Scene".  Especially the part in which a handsome, tanned, mischievous Han Solo (brown, feathered hair parted evenly in the middle) tried in vain to smooth-talk the twitchy-trigger-fingered, reptilian, green-faced, bug eyed, intergalactic thug Greedo (bald head).

Shit, reciting Greedo’s opening line to Han for anyone who’d listen (“Oo-nah too-tah, Solo?”) is still one of my favorite past-times.

In Star Wars, everyone could cover vast distances in the dark, dusty, intensely cold, INFINITE vacuum of space. It’s as easy as a con-artist pulling a few levers, confidently bellowing the order, “Punch it, Chewie”, and going faster than light without having to even buckle a seatbelt.

In reality, distances in outer space were not so easily traversed.

The Earth’s moon is 238,000 miles away. It took Neil Armstrong and the fellas six days to get from Earth, to the moon, and back, all while being cooped up in basically a large, flying port-a-potty. Their spacesuits looked about as comfortable as wearing every outfit in the average American’s good-credit-infused, stuffed closet AT ONCE.

This detail of space travel was not lost ‘Stanley Kubrick’s flick.  Even though there are a beautiful array of stunning special effects, it often felt like the audience traveled each second of the 365 million mile trip from the Moon to Jupiter.  There were no visual cues of a blurring landscape to both gage speed and generate a sense of movement.  The stars are perched in the background like apathetic teenagers forced to sit at the table during dinner, when they’d rather be in the solitude of their own rooms.

Body movements and conversations in the film were also slowed, as if everyone was walking in a filled swimming pool.  Mix in a relaxing soundtrack of orchestral music, and it’s the perfect lullaby capable of depowering my movie-watching enthusiasm.  In fact, the first five times I tried to watch the movie, I would fall asleep at an early scene featuring a space stewardess silently laboring down the aisle in her gravity “grip shoes” on her way to ultimately retrieve a floating pen for a sleeping passenger while composer Johann Strauss’s famous waltz, The Blue Danube, rhythmically chants in the background.

A few years ago, I tried one final time to watch the movie. And this time with the help of a streaming video platform, I was able to pause, re-group, pause, re-group, pause, re-group, and finally watch the movie my uncle loved.  

The striking thing about the movie is how quiet it actually was.  For much of the movie, there are no musical cues to warn of danger or intrigue.  Dialogue was conducted over the subtle drone of machines simply doing their mundane jobs of keeping the enormous spacecraft running during its long flight to Jupiter.   Life and death sequences were not given intense music accompaniment like traditional horror movies.  It’s as if Kubrick was saying, “People’s lives aren’t being scored by some musician to bookmark key events.  Life is merely something that happens -- even in space.”

It’s this absence of audible hints that makes 2001: A Space Odyssey uncomfortably realistic, as if the audience was watching a livestream of a computer gaining sentience, refusing to die (be turned off) and fighting off his oppressors (the flight crew).  

I’ve read that when a “vacuum” exists, somehow all of nature rushes to fill that empty hole.  So it’s funny that many science experiments happen in conditions that closely resemble a vacuum, in an effort to ensure results unweighted by additional stimuli.  Interestingly enough, because the movie is set in the vast, unforgiving, vacuum of space, Kubrick’s storytelling, in essence, becomes an experiment to determine if audiences will stay engaged without the traditional musical trappings.  Indeed, this stark story about the thrilling birth of strange, other-worldly life injected energy into overall science fiction mythology, and also into my young uncle.

Over the past 11 years, I have written a fairly regular Facebook post titled Reasons I Know I’m Getting Old.  When I started this, Facebook seemed to simply be a 21st century photo album, in which many people posted similar, stiff, smiling, posed pictures and inspiring quotes which suggested my extended online community was living their own collective happily ever afters.

But it was boring...

I mean, I loved my kids too, but were only my kids getting whoopings and other childhood punishments?  My wife was awesome too, but was I the only person still having trouble translating to her the humor in my daily fart symphonies?  Was no one else dealing with the often deflating, drudgery of the work-place?  Was parenting a lifelong crap-shoot for me only?  Because there was no connection to what I was seeing on my finger strolls on my phone, I was having a hard time wanting to even own a Facebook account.

Therefore, on April 14, 2009, I conducted an experiment:  How would my friends respond to a post that showed some dissatisfaction?  Nothing political or religious, just everyday grumblings.  I wrote:

“[Barry Huff] is dragging in from coaching his daughter's basketball team only to be greeted by Cap'n Crunch and a [sic] yet another pile of papers to grade!”

It received nine comments (four of those were my own).  And one of those commenters hinted that they understood the challenge of managing the grading paperload.

Facebook soon became a sliver into my reality normally hidden, when I walked into my home and shut the door for anyone who wanted to see access.  Initially, reposting fill-in-the blank lists, or other people’s videos, didn’t interest me.  I just wanted folks to know it was okay to not have all the answers.  Here I was, boogers and all.

But the experiment gathered a more scientific component in March 2020 -- the addition of an actual vacuum.  

In March 2020, the United States of America instituted a national quarantine in the hope of limiting the possibility of infection from the rapidly spreading “severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2)”, shortened simply to the “Coronavirus”.   I suspect that the horrified wails of a certain mexican beer company sharing part of the same name as the virus (after having carefully crafted years of popular commercials associating its product with serene, relaxing beach scenes) are still heard by masked customers now filling their shopping carts with other adult beverages.  Thus ensuring (at least in a few inebriated minds) binge drinking episodes without sudden, beer-birthed, pockets of community spread.

During this quarantine, the noise of my life (reporting to a building to teach, side-hustles, sporting events, car travel, movies, fast food) disappeared.  And with that sudden vacuum, came the desire to collect and revise the writings I posted about the uncertainty of navigating adulthood.

And while I still worry if I have the skill to create something that gives a clearer picture of my true self to my wife and kids, each vignette is a piece of the mosaic of my humanity.  And hopefully, this collection of blessed fallibility won’t be unnecessarily camouflaged during the stories told at my funeral one day, as attendees gulp down heaping portions of smothered pork steak, collard greens, macaroni, and apple pie piled on their sagging, disposable plates.

[maxante]

Full Moon Mycelium Meditation

20th Feb 2020

I had been meditating for a few hours, mostly sitting, and a little walking. I’d moved down to the straw bale house, away from everyone, and closer to the woods. I had a few supplies for day, plus the two magic mushroom chocolates.

There was like a kind of tug of war within me, of when to have them, whether I should wait until later in the day, whether I should have only one, or one and a half, or have both, all at the same, or staggered out.

I found myself just holding them, and looking out at the trees. Then they were being unwrapped. There was the voice calling, saying to just come and be with them, that there was nothing to fear, to just let go, and fully join with them.

I ate one. There was no issue. It was easy, much easier than I thought. Then I unwrapped the second, and realised that I’d be having this as well. It was as though it had the messaged tag “eat me” on it. And so... I ate half of it. Then put it down. Moved away as the message came “are you sure? This will be intense”. And so I attempted to weigh up whether to have more or not. And then I simply found it popping into my mouth, and it was done.

Now it was just about observing and waiting. Shall I stay in, or go out in the glorious day. It wasn’t long, and I had the mat to take out, and my shoes on. I went out, and sat on the dry rocky grass area, behind the straw bale house, planted myself in half lotus and moved between gazing out at the forest, and turning inward with my eyes shut.

After maybe half an hour, I was able to start to feel something on the periphery, that it was beginning to circle me, and to come closer and closer. It was in looking out at the forest that I first realized perception was changing. The trees were shifting, becoming clearer and it was as though they were communicating. I became more and more curious about them, and what they were wanting to share. It was then that I heard the pull to turn inward, and to sit still, quiet with eyes closed.

We are with you now, they spoke, and we have much to share. It is good you have opened yourself up, and allowed us in. But this seems not enough for a full transmission to come. 

It is all that I have, I said. 

No, you have more in the house, they replied.

But it belongs to Carol, I said.

She will not mind you having it, ask her. You will find it is here for you, left waiting for this time. This is the medicine you need. It is the teacher you seek. No others can match the lessons that you need at this time. Make good use of this, and be with us, learn from us, for we have much to share with you.

It became clear that medicine was working now, and it was becoming stronger.

Ah, perhaps we do have enough, they said. This is good, very good you had both.

I am ready, I said, tell me more, I’m ready to learn the next parts. Tell me why it is so.

It is like this because she welcomed the darkness. It had no where else to go, and this world, she knew she could be the container for it to transform. She knew it had to quarantined away. And yet, she knew how dangerous it was, and that it would surely try and suffocate and kill this world. She knew that she had existed long, and this was the thing to do, open herself up, with all her compassion and take it in, even though it would try and kill the world.

Through it’s never ending fascination with dissecting to understand and exploit all that there is, this force was intoxicating mix of an unreal non-stop appetite for devouring all that there is to build something that would collapse in upon itself like the imagined black hole that no one can bear witness, with the snake at it’s core that is forever swallowing it’s own tale. This is it’s mind. This is our mind.

Humanity had been taken over by the machine insect infestation that had grown beyond any limits and had managed to take over the whole world.

If Gaia was to survive, and if humanity was to realize it’s potential and free itself from the machine parasite that was hell bent devouring all and everything that stood between it and the abyss of desolation, then a new kind of consciousness was going to be needed.

We have come to you for this. For just as the machine insect world has overrun the world, so to has the mycelium arrived here, and is working to build and mobilize through a group of humans, to create a different way of life here. Basically, to create life here. The machine insects are devoid of life, because a machine is not alive. It is a machine, seeking to gain power and dominion.

But we, though the mycelium are right now taking over your mind. We are opening all of your channels so that you can perceive what humans cannot ordinarily perceive. And through you, yes, you... we share a message, and change the direction, for you are not like the others. You have opened yourself fully to us, and we have enabled to look through your eyes, and move your hands in this world. You have become us, and we have become you. 

In the week you saw that picture of the ant whose “brain” had been completely consumed and taken over by the mycelium. It had been directed to climb a tree to a certain height, and then it was pierced and overrun at that point by the mycelium. It had simply been the host that would enable the mycelium to use the ants body to fulfil it’s mission, and from that perfect height, the mycelium would push out a mushroom sprout from the ants “brain” and then shower upon all the unsuspecting ants below with tiny spores, infecting all them, and turning each of them in carrying ants that would replicate the exact same process. Each ant was simply the potential host for the power of the mycelium.

Just like this, so are you. Humans are nothing more than potential hosts. And in this world, there is nothing more than the battle between the light and the dark. Between the awakening the ignorance. Between the magic of the mycelium and the power of the machine insects. And since you opened that channel within yourself these past years, you have become a perfect host for us to work through. You have fully opened yourself, and allowed us to work through you. You see what is at stake, and you are willing to go all the way.

Are we really willing to lose such a one as this? They ask each other. 

Look at what he is. Look at how he integrates all of this, and how perfectly he sees the world. He could simply stay here, and live, and enjoy the world.

Or he could be moved in the very heart of the problem. And yes, doing so would lead the final price, but he is already shown he is willing to pay this. And this world here is already on route towards death. The machine insects have nearly consumed this world, and he has already enjoyed much of it. There is nothing new here for him. So better he move into the mission that is laid before him, and become what is needed.

And I heard machines, and sounds. I could hear children playing, and it was as though I was aware of all the goings on in the whole area. My perception had moved to be with that of other families. And I could hear cars moving, and even planes flying overhead. Yes, they coming, scanning, searching, wanting to feel and find out if you are here. But do not be concerned, you are very well hidden here.

Even though I’m in the very middle of all of it! I said. The enemy is all around us. Yes, they said, it’s the perfect paradox, that you are right under their nose, and no one has any idea of who you really are, or what you represent. They look at you, and they see a simple human, they do not see us, they do not feel us, they have no idea what you really are, or who it is that looks out through your eyes and who has the power to move through you.

We have already been busy assembling all the pieces for this next big move. These people you are are working with, you are surrounded by the enemy. They have no idea who they are.

Show me, I said. How will I know what they are really like, what is their nature?

And then I was gone, out of my body, and I was in some strange scene. There was like this amazingly powerful being, tall and dark, but behind it, was like this large hill, it was all green and spiky. And then they both started move in unison. The spiky hill grew these many spiky legs and began dancing them in the sky. The scene while both utterly remarkable, was behind it all, very ugly and disturbing. 

I was quickly out of it. Ah... so that’s what it is. You were showing me them, and how they are. So spiky and barren. I was inside that tall being, and looking out at that ugly spiky world. There was nothing that is like our world here. What I saw through it, was empty and desolate, and yet moving in some mechanised fashion, and it thought this was beautiful and good. And yet, it is clear that is devoid of any true life.

And they showed me other scenes as well, so as that I could clearly see the world from the machine insects perspective. It was barren and dry, a shallow world.

Is this what they want? I asked.

And now I was moved off my mat outside, and I was looking at the forest all around me. It was so so alive, and vibrating in ways I could never normally see. I could feel the intensity of the sun and so I turned more and more to face it. There was this incredible tree in front of me now, with the sun perfectly behind it’s tallest branches. 

And it had me bow. I closed my eyes and bent forward, bending more and more, until my face was in the dirt. Press. Press more and more they said.

Feel this pressure. Feel this tightness. Feel this hardness. And I was aware of the machine. And how they had taken “life” and forced it into a hard defined set of wires and transistors. They had taken all they could and made it hard and pressured. They had forced a fake “life” into metal and made a poor copy that was able to fool nearly everyone into thinking this was how life was to be lived. And my face as now pressed hard into the rocky ground. 

I get it. This is what they want. This is how it feels to be what they want. Hard. Pressed. Nothing. No space. Totally forced into a tight world of darkness, with no scope or place to feel. This is the world they want to create.

And I was then back up again, bolt upright, sitting with my back straight, eyes closed but face turned to face the sun. I could feel the warmth bathing me and bringing all the life back. Everything was blue, an unbelievable alive sky blue that was carrying me higher and higher. And there were levels and levels. This is top. This is single direction. You are with us now. You are with me. We are with you. I am with you. 

And there were those would doubt. Those who would wonder, who is this that I speak with? Who is this I am communicating with? Whose transmissions are these? Can you trust this source?

And to ask this question, is to not know this.

There is no doubt here. This is the ultimate expression here. I am not here. 

This is no -body- here. All is everything. There is the living perception that sees and feels all. And here it is, available and moving through this human form.

Only upon coming back from this height is there the dualistic thoughts of, can this be trusted, is this god, who is god, what is this? 

But while there, there is no doubt, it is as clear as the blue infinity that was revealed as the never ending field behind it all.

And I was as close as it could be. I was seeing the pixels. There they were. I was pressed so close as to see the fine pixels that made up what looked like the world. And they were so beautiful, radiant, and patterned in such a shimmering beauty that it would be hard to believe it was true.

How can I possibly explain all of this? Who can bare witness and explain this? I asked. You can, they said. You are the translator of all of this, to the humans.

And then I felt onto the ground, and with each had found a small stone. And my fingers held and touched each stone, in each hand.

These stones are hard and compressed. This is like their world. The world of the humans infected machine insects. They have become hard and compressed like these stones. And here I am, facing the infinity of the blue light that is radiant beyond all reckoning. How can something so perfectly serene be transmitted to these so dense hard heads of stone? I asked.

You will find a way, and there are those who are coming and looking.

I looked around at the barren rocky ground all around me. There were little shoots and plants trying to live on this hard rocky ground.

This is what it is like for most of the humans. They are living on this rocky, dry land, without much support. 

All the abundance of the world is locked up, held tightly away from the humans. And it is for this reason that the humans suffer. The worlds’ wealth is stored and kept from the people of this world. It is literally the gold that has been dug up from deep under the ground. And it has all been stored away in those central banking vaults, for their fear that if prosperity were to move through this world, the humans would be uncontrollable. 

This is what they fear the most. The machine insects who control the world, they fear a world out of control, where they have no place, because the humans would finally be free. And so the wealth is not made available.

However, this is why you are here, for this. You have the very delicate job of juggling between the machine world that has all the wealth locked up, and your connection to the magic. And between this, you will find a way to release these funds, and bring the world’s natural wealth to it’s people.

[drink-n-watch]

Hello everyone. Please bear with me this week. I am still in the midst of a huge cold and even watching Psycho Pass was a bit of a challenge. Matt, I’m going to have to rely on you for the deep insight even more than usual this week. Oh and if I say anything that makes no sense, please assume it’s the cold medicine talking.

Oh boy, this oughta be a fun one! Strap in guys and gals!

First let me say that to my eye, it seems as if last week was a blip. This week’s episode was largely back to normal regarding character model consistency and art quality. I really didn’t notice anything off. Of course there’s no way I trust myself in my current state to make that assertion so Matt, what did you think of the visuals?

Much improved, not sure if that was because they were a bit smarter with shot composition in this episode–favouring still frames and off-camera dialogue over low quality mid and long shots–but whatever it was worked well for the visual fidelity of the episode.

I thought the episode would have mostly concentrated on the undercover infiltration of Heaven’s Leap and I was excited about it. So it was a bit disappointing to me to have the narrative swing back to Arata and the rest of division one that quickly.

This episode was jumping around a lot, in spite of what people may have thought this episode would be, I’ll elaborate on that later though…

Although I was amused by how sly Kei is. He’s like an ogre, the boy has layers, and it’s slowly winning me over.

A ‘Shrek’ reference? In 2019? For shame, Irina…

The story does indeed seem to be continuing its exploration of the plight of immigrants in a Sybil controlled society and the plot is thickening on all sides. A deep conspiracy is going on with most of our key players missing for unknown reasons and still no explanation for the acts of terrorism all pointing back to the church.

It does appear that a powerful organization is using immigrants to reap chaos and perhaps in other ways as well but so far, I haven’t gotten a handle on why. I’m not sure if it hasn’t been revealed yet or I just missed it, but the end goal is still fuzzy as far as I’m concerned.

From what I can gather, Bifrost (the three people who talk cryptically in that extremely detailed 3D room) are all ‘congressmen’ who have power on par with the Sybil system and can drastically affect anything going on in Japan; from the allocation of public funds to different projects to the plotting of needlessly complicated conspiracies involving religions, kidnappings, and all manner of mischief. Basically, they are demi-gods, playing with pawns in the shadow of the absolute god that is the Sybil system.

Well yeah – I mean I got the basics down, I’m not that sick. I just don’t quite know yet the point of holding Roundrobin games. Is it a purge tactic, simple entertainment, modern day gladiator games? Bifrost is like an evil Sybil computer right? Why is it holding the games in the first place?

Because ambitious people will always want to have power over others and Bifrost is the end goal for such ambitions maybe?

One thing I would love to get more information about, is the larger context of Japan on the international level. I know I say that a lot simply because I think it’s really interesting to see how Psycho Pass’ specific version of authoritarianism would play out when confronted with other governments. However, in this particular case, I think it could help us appreciate the story more as well.

I’m sure they’d get along fine with the US in its current political state. Ohhh~ spicy!

Like I mentioned earlier this season, I was pretty surprised there even is enough immigration into Japan for the possibility of racial/cultural tensions to rise. I would have thought it would be too chaotic and unpredictable a situation for Sybil to allow.

Regardless of how Sybil feels about it, I’m also super curious why anyone would want to immigrate to Japan. It’s an island country so it’s not mere convenience. These people went through effort to go there specifically. That’s a bit unusual especially in the case of hue compromised immigrants which seem to be not uncommon.

What is happening in the rest of the world to make Japan that attractive?

It’s gotta be the secret porn doujin underground, right? I mean that’d be enough to make me risk a clouded hue to live in a Sybil-controlled Japan!

You may have chosen the wrong show to watch Matt…What I mean is considering the danger, why would someone chose Japan? I know Kei mentioned fighting in his home country but his home country is Russia. They aren’t exactly strangers to warfare in our world…. Do you know anything about this?

Do I know anything about what? About Russia, or about Kei being Russian? Or about Kei fighting in Russia? Or warfare in general? Because as far as I know, war… war never changes…

Did season 2 give us any glimpse about the state of international matters?

I try to block season 2 out of my memories… but no I don’t think it did.

Another aspect that would actually change things quite a bit is the emigration policy which I don’t think they’ve discussed yet. For instance, let’s say that Hue determination is based on some super secret set of calculations (like the google algorithm) and no one can know their own hues until Sybil assesses them. Can you show up in Japan, find out that your one quarter stuck in the bubblegum machine away from becoming a latent criminal and just decide to leave? Is there anything keeping you there outside the financial burden of travelling?

If Japan is letting so many people in you figure they would be letting some out as well to avoid overpopulation but we never really see that. In fact, most people don’t seem to have even travelled outside of Japan (which would make sense) so how does that work?

I think you’re trying to apply too much logic to a show (and by extension its writer) who just wanted to tack on some buzz-worthy topics like ‘immigrants’ and ‘housing crisis’, etc to the world of ‘Psycho Pass’ without you thinking too much about the nitty gritty details. Or maybe the writer is a genius and he’ll answer all your questions in time for the finale!

I don’t know. The writer is probably smarter than me. Besides what I do know of this franchise has always been very nicely constructed. None of these things are essential to understanding the story of course. I just think they’re interesting concepts and would add some nice world building to a season that’s been mostly plot driven.

As the episode came to a close, things were looking pretty dire for Kei. Just as I was starting to like the guy too. And I mean very dire. It strikes me that Psycho Pass may be the type of show that does not shy away from killing off main cast members and now I’m really worries. I will personally be bummed if anything happens to Kei. Maria will be devastated and I don’t know if Arata would even survive it….

Matt, tell me it’s going to be ok!

I mean, Maria got kidnapped to, things are going from bad to worse before our eyes, Irina!

Oh also, Bifrost is deeply involved with Heaven’s Leap. Of course. I don’t even know why I felt the need to throw in a spoiler like that…

Well I mean corrupt religions and corrupt politics go hand in hand, just look at the US… Oh! There I go again being ~spicy~!

So Matt, what did you think of this episode. Is last week still your least favourite?

This episode felt needlessly, almost combatively confusing, presenting itself in a fractured narrative that cut between story beats and flashbacks in such a way to keep itself ahead of the audience as if obfuscation passes for complexity. There was nothing specifically I disliked about this episode, there were some great scenes but they were presented so hurriedly and so disjointedly that on the whole it was hard to fully enjoy the experience. Even though this was a 45 minute episode, not only did it feel like a bunch of plots and subplots were simultaneously emerging, converging and diverting but it also felt like it was rushing for the sake of being compelling but instead ended up just confusing. This’ll be the new least favourite episode (so far). What about you Irina, can you blow past your cold and give us your verdict on it? 

I’m neutral on it. I found it less confusing than past episodes in that motivations were much clearer and I have no issues with intertwining narratives, in fact I often like them. However to me here are a lot of interesting themes being laid out but they are presented in a fairly dull way, in my opinion. So it evens out?

Psycho Pass s3 ep6 – Friends and Strangers Hello everyone. Please bear with me this week. I am still in the midst of a huge cold and even watching Psycho Pass was a bit of a challenge.

[darkobsidianquill]

Harry Potter and the descent into Darkness.

Chapter 22

More than a week had passed since the dark arts and dueling lessons had begun. It was Wednesday, and Harry had slipped away from Ron after lunch, while Hermione made her way to her Ancient Runes class. Harry slipped on his cloak and pulled out the Map and activated it. He saw the second 'Harry Potter' dot entering the castle and heading towards the bathroom where he had made a habit of making his daily switch in. He slipped out past Ron, who was leaning against the wall talking with one of the Beauxbatons girls. Harry rose a single eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he quickly hurried down the hall, under his invisibility cloak, and out of the castle.

Fifteen minutes later Harry was in the manor and climbing up the stairs to Voldemort's study. The afternoon began the same as always. Voldemort was sitting there, already into his meditative exercise. Harry could tell that the Dark Lord was getting very close to finishing the transformation, and was growing more and more curious as to what exactly the man would look like when he finally achieved it.

Harry settled down and began reading a dueling techniques book that Voldemort had had him start reading a few days earlier in preparation for their daily lessons. He kept on going, without pause, even when Voldemort stood up and then sat down in his chair to read through his papers.

As had become normal, Voldemort almost instantly began running his fingers through Harry's hair and all Harry could do was sigh and smile in content.

"I'm curious, Harry –" Voldemort began to speak, nearly a half hour later as he suddenly stood from his chair and began to move towards the door. Harry quickly jumped to his feet as he realized that Voldemort appeared to be preparing to leave the study.

"Yes?"

"I know that you used the accellerant potion and underwent the process to improve that rather impressive body of yours, but I'm wondering if you have been taking measures to maintain it?"

Harry gaped at him as he attempted to process the words that had just come out of the Dark Lord's mouth. Harry's oh-so-eloquent response was a simple, "Huh?"

"Have you been working to maintain your improved body?"

"I... wha... you mean, am I working out?" Harry asked, still confused and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it sounded like Voldemort had just called his body 'rather impressive'.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry, have you been 'working out'?"

"Er... no. Not really, anyway. As I already told you, I used to get kind of physical with my dark arts practice down in the chamber. I would sort of roll around and mock dodge things. To practice falling and improve my aiming while moving. But I haven't gone down there for that in a while, so the only real exercise I've been getting is from our dueling lessons."

Voldemort gave Harry a thoughtful look for a moment before turning and heading towards the door. "Follow me," he commanded simply without pausing in his pace. Harry jogged after him until he caught up and matched the Dark Lord's long strides as the two briskly walked down the hall, down the stairs, and through one of the first floor corridors.

Harry was extremely curious as to what was going on, but knew that if Voldemort was going to tell him, he'd do it when he was good and ready to, and no sooner.

They came upon one of the doors that Harry had long ago sensed a space expansion charm behind and Voldemort opened and entered without even pausing. Harry followed but came to an abrupt halt directly upon entering. What he found was a large windowless, room with a floor that was oddly squishy beneath his feet, a couple of elevated horizontal bars attached to one wall, an assortment of strange contraptions that looked something like exercise equipment, a strange device that Harry thought vaguely reminded him of a muggle treadmill, and a weight lifting bench with a bunch of weights.

"You have a gym?" Harry asked as he gawked at the room. This was probably one of the last things he expected to find in the manor house. It just looked so... muggle.

"Wizards are fools to neglect their bodies as they do," Voldemort drawled as he rolled his eyes and sneered in disgust. "They think that just because they can use magic to do things and avoid menial labor, that they have no need to keep their bodies fit."

Harry turned all of his attention away from the bewildering room, and focused it entirely on Voldemort. He could hear the man slipping into his 'instructor voice' and whenever he did that, whatever he had to say was important.

"The biggest reason that the unforgivable curses are unforgivable isn't because of what they do – there are hundreds of curses that can kill you, control you, and cause excruciating pain – they are unforgivable because of the fact that they cannot be blocked or countered. There is no way to shield oneself from the cruciatus or the killing curse or the imperius – although one with a strong enough will can occasionally break free of the latter.

The killing curse can go through almost all substances. The only thing that can block the killing curse is the body of another living thing. If you have a expendable person around that you can use as a human shield, then you can shield yourself. Otherwise, the only way to avoid any of these spells is to dodge them.

Keeping one's body in shape improves reaction time, stamina, and endurance. If two wizards are of generally equal magical skill levels, the one with the best ability to dodge, and the endurance to last the longest, will be the winner. And since so many wizards disregard the importance of training their body, in addition to their magical training, it is an extremely easy and beneficial advantage to gain."

"How often do you work out in here?" Harry asked, turning his attention back to the room.

"Every morning. I get up fairly early and spend an hour in here each day. I have done so since the morning after my resurrection."

"Oh... wow," Harry said, rather lamely, before he refocused on the room again as he imagined what all the different exercise 'machines' were for. They were obviously of Voldemort's own creation, and had been magically constructed. Still, it was obvious that they were intended for various forms of exercise.

"I want you to join me each morning at 7:30am. Can you manage that?" Voldemort asked, pulling Harry sharply out of his mental wanderings.

"Join you?" Harry echoed in surprise.

"Yes. I think it would do your dueling practice an enormous good if you began a physical training program as well."

Harry's jaw floundered as he searched for the words to respond with that could adequately relate just how the idea made him feel. There were so many reasons to be utterly thrilled with it. For one thing, it gave him even more time each day with the man, who was quickly becoming the central focal point of his life. Any reason to spend more time with the man was welcome. Harry just felt so much... better around Voldemort. Everything fit better in his head. His mind worked faster and clearer. His temper was easier to keep control of. The constant itch and drive to curse everyone he saw was easily controlled. Everything felt better here. The second reason Voldemort's suggestion left him speechless and stunned was the fact that Voldemort had to actually want Harry around more too. Why else would he be offering something that would require Harry to intrude on even more of the Dark Lord's precious time.

He finally gave up on trying to voice his emotions and just nodded his head.

"Good. You can use the time-turner when done, of course. So you should be able to avoid any suspicion about additional strange absences. Obviously robes are far too cumbersome for activities such as what we'll be doing in here. Try to dress appropriately. Loose-fitting clothes are more apt to get caught in some of the devices I've created, so try to avoid them. If you have nothing appropriate, we can transfigure something for you when you come tomorrow.

"Also, I am nearly done with my transformation meditations, but not quite, so I still want you continue to come after lunch," Voldemort continued, and Harry quickly confirmed that he would still be coming for his other usual visits.

"We will continue the dueling practice after my meditation is completed. With all of the added hours and time-turner use, it may become necessary for you to fit in an extra meal, and perhaps a nap. If that become the case you can stay for dinner at the manor, and make use of the same room you stayed in last week, before using the time-turner to return to the castle."

Voldemort continued to lay out the plans for Harry's schedule and Harry couldn't help the wide, warmed smile that spread across his face as he realized how much thought Voldemort had put into his plans involving Harry. He truly couldn't believe the amount of time each day that the Dark Lord was willing to spend with and dedicate to Harry, and he felt a small pang of sadness when he thought about how it would likely all change once Voldemort finally succeeded at his transformation, and brought the other Death Eaters back into the fold. Once he was able to take on his 'scary Dark Lord' look again, he would begin tackling his plans, head-on, and Harry doubted that Voldemort would have nearly as much time to throw away on him.

He pushed back the niggling worry and refocused on the man standing before him, and explaining what some of the different 'machines' were and what muscles groups they worked. Harry was stunned how much the Dark Lord knew about the whole physical fitness thing. What 'muscle groups' aided in what sorts of movements, and what kinds of exercises and movements were necessary to work out each of those groups. But then Harry realized that there wasn't anything that Voldemort did 'half-assed', and realized he never should have been surprised in the first place. Whenever Voldemort decided to learn about something, he buried himself in the topic, and didn't put it down until he was a master of it. The Dark Lord consumed knowledge and skills like a starved man in a buffet. A trait that had always left Harry feeling inspired and determined to master as many things as well.

Harry left the manor that day finding himself feeling both anxious and eager for the next morning's exercise session. He'd never done an awful lot of physical exercise outside of quidditch, and riding a broom really wasn't all that physically intensive – outside of needing a strong grip with both his hands and his thighs. Still, the thought of being physically trained by Voldemort was exciting. He just hoped he could keep himself from acting like an idiot.

– –

Harry entered the 'gym' the next morning at 7:25am. Slipping away from his dorm had been extremely easy. None of his roommates were early risers, as were few Gryffindors, so even the common room was empty when he slipped down under cover of his invisibility cloak.

Getting up at 6:30am hadn't been terribly difficult since he'd been going to bed earlier and earlier lately. Since he'd been living longer days than normal, by the time it was 10pm at night, he had usually gone through enough hours in the day that it would have been after 2am for him. His new tendency for going to bed early had been just one more thing for Ron to gripe about, but Harry didn't honestly give a damn what Ron griped about. He knew he still needed to come up with some sort of strategy for diverting the suspicions of Ron and the other Gryffindors. His little rant to Ron and Hermione had given them the illusion that he was still willing to confide in them, and given them some things to think about. Hopefully enough to keep them from suspecting what was really going on. His evenings spent with Hermione and Ginny was helping to ease some of his fellow housemates concerns about his extreme reclusive behavior earlier in the year, and since he wasn't disappearing away to the chamber for hours a day, he at least no longer appeared to be sneaking off. Hopefully all the changes he had made over the last month would be enough, but he needed to make sure that when Dumbledore started asking his 'friends' questions, over the summer, after Harry 'vanished', that none of them would start telling the old goat that they were worried about Harry's strange Dark behavior.

When he got to the manor, he went to the second floor where the loo he usually used was, since he only knew of the large bath with the sunken tub on the first floor, and there were just far too many unidentified rooms down there to go searching for a 'normal' bathroom. Once on the second floor he changed into the clothing he had brought with him. He had a pair of gray draw-string sweatpants that he occasionally slept in during the winters, and a white sleeveless t-shirt that he had shrunk down so that it was fairly tight against his torso to avoid it catching in any of the exercise equipment. He hoped it would be sufficient. He suspected he was going to need to do some clothing shopping soon. There was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, but he wasn't sure if any of the stores in the tiny wizarding village would carry what he needed.

He left his bag in the study and made his way downstairs to the gym. Voldemort was in the center of the open part of the room, and what Harry saw made him freeze in place in stunned awe. Voldemort was wearing comfortable-looking black cotton pants, and no shirt. He was doing push-ups, and Harry could already see the smallest indication of sweat appearing on the man's back.

The lean, lithe, and only lightly muscled body that he had seen a month earlier had already come a long way. The muscles were more defined now, but not overly so. Definitely not 'body builder' muscles, but this was undeniably the body of a strong, and powerful man who did not slack off.

Harry was stunned out of his dumbfounded staring by Voldemort pushing himself up onto his knees, and then standing to his feet. If Voldemort had realized Harry was staring, he didn't say anything. Instead, he quickly began to go over the schedule for the next hour, and discussing how Harry would work up to certain goals over time. Harry's head was quickly being filled with new concepts and knowledge, and he was being set to the machines he would use.

Voldemort demonstrated the proper way to move his arms while pushing out on one device, and pulling in on another. How to hold his elbows at a certain angle, and what things not to do, to avoid injury. During the demonstrations, Harry occasionally found his mind wandering back to Voldemort's exposed torso, and he found a growing fascination with the way the older wizard's muscles moved and twisted beneath his skin. But Voldemort loudly scolded him whenever he seemed distracted, so Harry quickly learned to pay attention and stay focused.

He returned to the school that morning sweaty, sore, and yet strangely exhilarated. He knew this was going to be hard work, but he was excited for it, too. The rest of the week passed easily enough, and while his strangely lengthened days were really starting to mess with his internal clock, he was slowly growing accustomed to them.

Voldemort incorporated lessons from his dueling into his morning exercises, and vice-versa. The break in the middle of the day where he just sat and read while Voldemort meditated was a welcome break from the action and activity of the rest of his time spent in the manor, and he found himself eagerly anticipating the light conversation and discussions they had after the Dark Lord was done with his meditation. Harry was even beginning to understand why Voldemort read the muggle newspapers.

Harry was stunned when Voldemort began to explain some sort of mass genocide that had been going on the previous year in Rwanda. Apparently before all the fighting was done, more than 800,000 had died during the Hutu-controlled Rwandan army attempt to exterminate the Tutsi minority from the country. Harry had trouble fathoming the fact that in the span of 100 days, over 800,000 people had been massacred and he hadn't heard a single word about it. There were loads of muggleborns at the school – didn't a single one take a muggle paper?

He could understand that most parents probably wouldn't write to their child about horrible African genocides, but it still seemed like such a big deal.

"Yes, but even most muggles are utterly ignorant of what has gone on over there, though," Voldemort said, after Harry voiced his shock at having heard absolutely nothing about this.

"What? How can they be?"

"Few people give a damn about some tiny African country that tried to annihilate itself last summer, Harry."

"Then why are you paying attention to it?"

"Genocide. It's described as the largest act of genocide since the Holocaust."

Harry felt himself freeze slightly, and he was almost afraid to ask the next question. It was one thing for him to kill Rita Skeeter and not feel remorse, but killing an entire race of people was something that he didn't exactly think he could live with.

"Are you thinking about wiping out all the muggles or something?" Harry asked, cautiously.

Voldemort barked out a harsh laugh. "No, Harry. I no longer have any ridiculous illusions about trying to rid the world of the muggle filth."

"You don't?" Harry asked, both relieved and surprised, as he twisted around and looked up at Voldemort, sitting in his chair.

"No, honestly I don't think it will be necessary. They will likely rid the world of themselves, saving me the trouble."

Harry scrunched up his face in mild confusion – not sure what the Dark Lord meant by that, but he didn't get the chance to ask, as older Wizard continued to talk.

"The fact remains, that at one point, I did have some rather ignorant aspirations of killing off most, and subjugating the rest, of the muggle population. Many of my followers will likely still hold some of those aspirations. I simply want to be able to provide them with with concrete arguments as to why such efforts would not only be ineffective, but idiotic, and a waste of our energies. We have bigger problems to deal with that will already require more than enough time and energy."

"Ah... well, that's... a relief," Harry said, turning back and leaning against the chair again.

Voldemort chuckled and let his hand fall into Harry's raven hair.

"Don't think you have the stomach for genocide?" Voldemort snickered.

Harry shrugged. "Probably not. Besides, I don't see the logic in it. Or how it would even work. There are just so many more of them, than us. Sure, we're superior to them, and can do things that they can't even imagine doing, but that doesn't mean that they're weak or stupid. They're still humans, and it's when humans are desperate that they accomplish the most unexpected things. Their science is still capable of some insane things. I mean, they can go to the moon. Magic can't even do that.

"If they found out about us – about magic – and felt threatened... I can only see that being very very bad. We can use magic, but there's just so many more of them," Harry finished with a sigh and a shrug.

Voldemort hummed in agreement and their conversation slipped back into other topics from the newspaper.

– –

Another week had passed and Harry was feeling extremely comfortable with his daily arrangement. He was having a little trouble staying focused in his classwork – having started to find it exceedingly boring. Very little of it had any practical daily value, and he had very little enthusiasm for learning things that would never serve him in his life. Especially when he had the incredibly fascination and exhilarating lessons from Voldemort to compare.

But at least his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes with Barty – or rather, with 'Moody', were interesting. Voldemort had had Harry deliver several notes to Barty, and Barty would give Harry letters to give back to the Dark Lord when he returned Harry's written essays to him. One day in class, 'Moody' had asked Harry to hang around after class to 'discuss his homework'. Moody had acquired an object for the Dark Lord and since Harry went there every day anyway, it was decided that Harry should just take it with him. It was a reasonably small box. Moody had hallowed out a book and placed an expansion charm inside it so that when the book was opened, inside was a hole large enough for the box. He gave it to Harry with the guise that it was something he might find helpful for the next task, and sent him on his way.

While leaving defense and making his way through the empty halls towards the Great Hall for dinner, Harry came across a pair of familiar, hushed voices. He slowed and peaked around the corner towards where he heard the voices and saw Snape and Karkaroff in the middle of a whispered argument. Harry wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, and was about to pull out his wand to use his eavesdropping charm when he was startled by another familiar, and far more annoying drawl.

"Potter, what are you doing?" the annoying drawl of Draco Malfoy came suddenly, causing Harry to jump with surprise at having been come upon without having noticed. Apparently Snape and Karkaroff heard Malfoy's voice because their whispers stopped and they both turned towards the sound.

Harry turned and scowled at Malfoy. Apparently his glare was fierce enough that it gave Draco pause because the blond Slytherin's eyes betrayed a moment of fear and hesitation before they hardened to his normal confident sneer.

Harry was a bit surprised by Malfoy's behavior. The blond Slytherin had been mostly avoiding him ever since their encounter several months prior. Apparently enough time had passed that Malfoy had either forgotten what happened, or decided it wasn't bad enough to continue keeping his distance.

"Malfoy, I really don't have time for you," Harry said with an annoyed sigh.

"So it's Malfoy again? Are you over whatever weird thing possessed you over Christmas?"

Harry snorted out a laugh. "Hardly," he said giving the blond boy a leering smirk that caused Malfoy to straighten a bit and his eyes to widen. Harry snickered at Malfoy's reaction and began to turn away.

"Where are you heading off to?"

"Dinner," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Running off to the mudblood and the weasel?" Malfoy sneered.

"Well, you know. Gotta keep up appearances. Wouldn't want anyone suspecting me of going dark," Harry chuckled.

Malfoy's eyes bugged out of his face and he stood there, dumbfounded for a moment while Harry began to walk away.

"Wait!" Malfoy called out as he jogged after Harry and caught up to him. Harry huffed and stopped. He looked around anxiously, making sure that there weren't any witnesses. There weren't as far as he could tell. Snape and Karkaroff had vanished – most likely to somewhere more private to continue their argument – and the rest of the student body was already at dinner.

"What do you want, Draco?" Harry asked with a resigned sigh as he took out his wand and cast a small privacy ward around them.

"What's up with you? You've been acting normal again lately, but I see the looks you give them. The looks you give everyone. The way you walk, the way you hold yourself. And more than anything else, when I get close enough, you reek of dark magic."

Harry had to take pause of that proclamation. If Draco could tell he'd been practicing the Dark arts, what was stopping the professors? Or Dumbledore? Apparently something on Harry's face gave away his moment of panic because Draco was rolling his eyes and quickly began to speak again.

"Don't worry, Potter. It's only those with a dark affinity who can sense it. Neutrals and Lights only sense the magic of other Neutrals or Lights."

"Even someone like Dumbledore?" Harry asked, skeptically.

"Do you feel his Light magic?" Malfoy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Er..." Harry paused, trying to think if he did. "I think I used to... But now that you mention it, I really haven't been able to feel that same energy that I used to when I was around him."

"Exactly – wait... you used to?"

"Well, my affinity definitely used to be Light. I'm sure of that."

"But now it's Dark?" Malfoy asked, a tremendous curiosity glowing in his eyes.

Harry clammed up and gave Malfoy a hard look.

Malfoy chuckled and smirked. "Smart, Potter. Never admit anything aloud."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've still got a problem though, even if Dumbledore can't sense my Dark magic. My affinity was set to Light before." Harry mused quietly to himself.

Malfoy snorted. "As if anyone would ever honestly suspect the Gryffindor Golden-boy of going Dark. Besides, Dumbledore would only notice the lack of Light magic traces on you. He can't just tell that your affinity has changed. They need a spell for that I think."

Harry glared at Malfoy. "I told you not to call me that. I'm no one's Golden-boy. Besides, you suspected me of going dark."

"Only after you assaulted me," Malfoy said indignantly with his nose turned up.

Harry chuckled and gave the blond another leering look that clearly made him feel exceedingly uncomfortable. "Besides, you weren't the only person I got angry with," Harry said finally with a bit of a grumble. "I was a pretty angry mess there for a while..."

"That's what was going on!" Malfoy exclaimed suddenly, as if he had just made a great discovery. Harry looked at him with confusion, and an expectant look. "You were dealing with Dark addiction, weren't you! And now you've got a handle on it, which is why you're able to pretend to be normal again!"

Harry blinked at Malfoy. "Uh... maybe," Harry found himself admitting hesitantly. "You seem to have some personal experience here... How much Dark magic have you practiced?"

Malfoy scoffed and turned his nose up again. "I'm a Malfoy, Potter. What do you think?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but grinned and snickered.

Suddenly Harry paused and felt his blood run cold. If anyone who practiced the Dark arts could sense that he had practiced them, that would mean that Snape, and Karkaroff would know. Karkaroff was possibly not a problem, but Snape most certainly was.

Thinking back, the Potions master had been giving him some rather odd looks lately.

"How long have you been able to feel the dark magic on me?" Harry asked suddenly.

Malfoy blinked at the sudden shift in the conversation. "Well I can only feel it like... now. Now that I'm right next to you. You have to be really close."

"Shit," Harry muttered as he scowled at the wall beside him.

"What? It's not like anyone in the school who practices the Dark Arts would ever betray another Dark wizard to Dumbledore. And you don't exactly get that close to any of us Slytherins. You don't have to –"

"Snape," Harry said, resolutely.

Malfoy looked surprised, then confused, and then he looked like he was going to laugh. "Don't be stupid, Potter. Severus isn't really loyal to that stupid old man. He's as Dark as they come."

Harry shook his head. "Even if that's true, he hates the ground I walk on. I can see him just loving the opportunity to destroy my reputation as the beacon of the light, and crush Dumbledore's idea of me being the perfect good guy he sees me as."

This seemed to give Malfoy pause, because he looked thoughtful now.

"Hmmm... well, he certainly does hate you."

After a silent moment, Harry huffed and ran a hand through his messy black hair. It was getting longer and shaggier as the months went on, and he was thinking that he probably would start letting it grow out. Voldemort really seemed to enjoy the length. Harry shook his head, refocusing on the problem at hand and letting his hand fall to his side.

"Well, it's something I'm going to have to deal with soon, but for now, there's nothing I can do."

Malfoy gave Harry a long hard look but then nodded his head. "So... so what the hell, Potter? I mean... how did this happen? How did you go Dark? It just... it just doesn't..." Malfoy gave a frustrated growl and shook his head.

Harry began to laugh at the other boy's frustrated confusion, which really only caused Malfoy to scowl at him.

"What!" Malfoy spat angrily.

Harry's chuckled subsided a bit and he shook his head with an amused grin. "It's a very long story, and I highly doubt you'd believe a word of it. But the fact of the matter is, you already know too much. I need your word that you aren't going to start running around the school telling people that I'm going Dark. And if you can manage it, think you can keep an eye on the Slytherins who practice the Dark Arts, who start to notice me too?"

"Why the hell would I do that for you?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry's eyes narrowed on the blond boy for a moment before he smirked. He glanced around the empty corridor again, just for safety's sake. His privacy ward wouldn't let anyone year them, but he still didn't want anyone seeing him talking with the Slytherin boy.

"Tell me something, Draco," Harry began, moving a step closer and causing the Slytherin to tense up and look wary. "Is daddy still loyal to the Dark Lord?"

Malfoy's eyes hardened and his jaw tightened. "My father never –"

"Don't blow smoke in my face, Draco, I'm not stupid. How about this. Where do your loyalties lie? With the Dark? Or not?"

"My loyalties lie with the Dark," Malfoy said, standing tall and raising his nose into the air again.

Harry smirked. "So would you be loyal to the Dark Lord when he returns?" Harry asked in a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned into Malfoy's 'personal space'.

Malfoy looked slightly taken aback, and gave Harry a long scrutinizing look. He was probably debating the dangers of admitting this statement out loud to Harry Potter, of all people – Dark magic, or no. Harry figured he was probably also taking note of the fact that Harry said 'Dark Lord' and not, 'You-Know-Who', or 'Voldemort' – as many people knew Harry had been apt to do in the past. And then there was the fact that Harry had said 'when' he returns; not 'if'.

Finally, Malfoy squared his shoulders and stuck his chin, pompously high. "I would be loyal to the Dark Lord."

Harry's grin widened and he took a step back, giving the blond some of his personal space back.

"Good to hear that Draco."

"That doesn't tell me why I should keep your secret, or why I should watch the other Slytherins for you," Draco spat.

"I suppose it doesn't..." Harry mused, airily. "But it really would be in your best interest if you helped me out. That's what being Slytherin is all about, isn't it? Finding ways to serve your best interests, while making powerful connections and climbing the ladder to greatness?"

Malfoy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "And helping you would benefit me, how?"

Harry paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You remember back on the train ride before first year when you stuck your hand out, offering friendship and I was a stupid little soon-to-be-Gryffindor prat, sitting next to the weasel and I turned you down?"

Malfoy's face hardened and his look shifted to a glare. "Yes, I remember."

"I probably should have taken it and left Weasley behind," Harry said with a shrug. "Did you know the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin? I begged it not to, so it stuck me in Gryffindor instead."

Malfoy looked dumbstruck by this proclamation. He also seemed to be rendered speechless by it, because he didn't say anything in return.

"Anyway, you really should tell your daddy to be prepared, because his Lord is back and will be calling on him soon. Can you do that for me?" Harry said, having suddenly shifted to a playful and patronizing tone as he reached up and gave a light, pat on the stunned blond's cheek before taking a step back and grinning evilly.

After a few silent seconds where Malfoy appeared too confused to comprehend what had just been said, his face went pale, and understanding dawned behind his gray eyes. "You're lying," Malfoy said in a disbelieving whisper.

Harry's smirk only grew larger. "Ask daddy if anything interesting happened to his mark on March 20th. Probably hurt a bit, but it also probably glowed and pulsed with power. That was the night it happened. He's already back."

"How do you know?" Draco asked, but his voice was still hardly more than a whisper.

Harry gave the other a toothy, wicked grin and leaned in close.

"I know," Harry began in a quiet whisper, "because I was there."

– –

"That was stupid and reckless," Voldemort sneered as the two walked down the hall towards the gym.

"I made him swear a wizards oath that he wouldn't tell anyone," Harry grumbled.

"You should have made him swear it before you told him anything of value!"

"Yeah, but he never would have agreed to it, then! Besides, he knows that if he blabbed you'd probably have him killed. He's terrified of you."

"Stupid boy. You just wanted to show off," Voldemort spat and Harry pouted. "Anyway, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh! Right, so how come you never mentioned to me that people with a dark affinity can detect other people with it?"

Voldemort stopped and turned to give Harry an incredulous look before shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I suppose I assumed you knew. Besides, it doesn't exactly work like that. People with a Dark affinity can detect an excess of dark magic use from another person, but they cannot simply tell what people's affinity is. If they could, there would be less value in the affinitatum reveleo spell. Are you telling me that you don't sense dark magic use on others?"

Harry paused and looked thoughtful. "Well, I do, but I haven't encountered anyone who had practiced Dark magic while at school. Just here, and occasionally I can feel it on Barty in class. But I've already told you about my weird magic senses. No one else I know ever seems to sense half the things I do. And I know I didn't feel most of this stuff back when I was blowing through all my magic keeping your soul at bay. So I sort of assumed that most people weren't sensing any of these things."

"That is true," Voldemort said with a sigh. "That was something that often confused me in my youth as well."

"So is there anyway I can keep other wizards with a dark affinity from being able to tell I've been casting a bunch of dark magic lately? I'm really worried about Snape blabbing to Dumbledore."

Voldemort scowled and then took on a contemplative look. He remained quiet for a long moment and Harry found himself suddenly realizing that he still had yet to ask Voldemort about the fact that it was Snape of all people, who had relayed the prophecy.

"Let's continue this conversation this afternoon," Voldemort said suddenly, startling Harry. "This is an important issue and we need to work through it. You're right that it's important, but we don't have the time to dedicate to it now. Gym first."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but quickly snapped it shut and sighed.

"Fine, but this afternoon can we also talk about the fact that Snape was the spy who witnessed the prophecy too?" he said as the pair resumed their journey and quickly entered the gym.

"Yes, that is part of what we need to discuss."

Harry shrugged, glad that this wasn't something he was going to have to drag out of Voldemort through subtle prodding.

The pair quickly slipped into the routine that they had developed over the last two weeks. Harry was reluctant to leave when their work-out was over, but knew he'd be coming back after lunch and that they'd have plenty of time to discuss things then.

– –

"Severus's loyalties are of a legitimate concern," Voldemort began as he leaned back in his desk chair after having just finished his meditation. Harry quickly put away his book and stuffed it back into his book bag before leaning back against the side of the chair and turning his head to look up at the Dark Lord.

"You are aware that he was the spy that provided me with the first portion of the fake prophecy," Voldemort began again and Harry nodded. "Shortly after you were born, and I determined that you were the most likely subject of the prophecy, Severus came to me and pleaded that I spare your mother."

At this Harry almost choked. He turned around and gaped up at Voldemort in stunned silence. "What! Why?" he finally asked.

"It would seem that he was rather infatuated with her. Apparently they were childhood friends. He said that he knew her even before attending Hogwarts."

Harry's jaw floundered in continued shock. He couldn't even fathom what was being told to him. Snape was in love with his mum!

"Since he was the servant who had brought the prophecy to me in the first place, and I still had yet to reward him for that deed, I agreed to try to give Lily Potter the opportunity to step aside. Of course, I would make no such promises in regards to you or your father, but he made no such requests."

Harry snorted. "Of course not. He hated my dad."

"Yes," Voldemort drawled with a smirk. "Many people did."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It is my belief," Voldemort continued, "that he did not believe that I would spare Lily. Or at the very least, she would not be willing to stand aside and allow me to kill you."

Harry's mouth formed a small frown as a blurry memory of screamed voices echoed through his mind.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -"

"This is my last warning -"

"You did give her the chance..." Harry said quietly. Voldemort gave him a funny look, but continued.

"I believe that Severus went to Dumbledore at that point to warn him that you and your parents had been targeted. He soon there after came to me and told me that he had an opportunity to gain employment at Hogwarts as the new Potions instructor. The obvious insinuation was that he could go there to spy for me against Dumbledore. Obviously I was not so stupid as to simply fall for that."

"So you think that it was Dumbledore's idea? He wanted Snape to spy on you for him?" Harry asked.

"Precisely."

"And you think that the reason he went to Dumbledore in the first place was because he wanted to save my mum?" Harry continued with a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"Correct."

"But it failed. My mum died anyway, and I lived. So would he still be loyal to Dumbledore even though he failed on his end?"

"That is the question. I also imagine that Dumbledore would have required some form of proof of sincerity from Severus. Most likely an unbreakable vow."

Harry's eyes widened. "What do you think he vowed? To stay loyal to Dumbledore?"

"That would be the most troublesome. But it is possible it was something else. I can imagine Severus making an effort to avoid a vow such as that. Vowing his eternal loyalties to any one man is simply not something he would ever be stupid enough to do."

"Not even to you?" Harry asked, incredulously. Voldemort just laughed.

"He is a Slytherin, Harry. No one makes life-long commitments in Slytherin, unless they are sure that they can worm their way out of them, should the desperate need arise."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "Alright, so what should we do about Snape?"

"You are correct that his remains a risk as long as we are unsure of where his loyalties lie. He can undoubtedly detect the excessive amount of dark magic on you from our dueling sessions, and a daily cleansing ritual would be far too annoying and time consuming. I am going to need to identify where his loyalties lie sooner than later..." his voice trailed off as his face took on the look that Harry had come to associate with his deep planning and scheming. Harry remained quiet to allow the older wizard time to think, and enjoyed the feel of the Dark Lord's fingers as they slipped into his hair.

Harry was almost lulled into a relaxed nap before Voldemort spoke again. "Alright, I have a plan, but I will need the rest of the afternoon to prepare an object for it. We will have to postpone today's dueling lesson."

Harry frowned for a moment as he felt a pang of disappointment, but he quickly pushed it away. This was more important, and he knew it.

"You will assist me," Voldemort continued and Harry's mood instantly perked up as he was consumed by curiosity.

Voldemort stood up and motioned for Harry to follow. The two quickly left the study and began to head downstairs. Harry was, once again, led to one of the doors he had never entered before and once it was opened, he found a stairwell reside behind it. Harry followed Voldemort down into the manor's basement, that, until that moment, he hadn't even known existed. At the bottom of the stairs was a short hall with only two doors. One of the doors was large, heavy, and Harry could feel it was heavily warded.

"What's back there?" Harry asked as he jerked his head towards the door.

"That is where I have begun to set up holding cells," Voldemort said dismissively as he began walking to the other door.

"Holding cells?" Harry echoed in surprise.

"Yes. The spells and protections are still rudimentary and will need far more work before I can consider them secure enough to make frequent use of them. Although, there is already one person enjoying a stay down there."

"There is! Who?"

"Barty's dear old father," Voldemort drawled with a chuckle.

"Mr. Crouch is down there!" Harry said, looking back over his shoulder towards the door. "Why keep him alive at all?"

"Polyjuice ingredients," Voldemort said flippantly.

"Does he need to be alive for that? Can't you just take a bunch of his hair and keep it?"

"Once the person has died, any hair removed from them is no longer viable for the potion. It's also why Barty has had to keep Moody alive."

"Oh. Huh. I didn't actually know that."

Voldemort continued in his journey as he led Harry through the other open door and into a large open room with rows upon rows of shelves along the walls, several large tables in the center, and a collection of various sized cauldrons. Harry blinked at the room as he finally entered and took it all in. It was clearly a rather elaborate potions lab, and Harry was impressed by the massive inventory of ingredients that filled the shelves.

"Wow," Harry said as he looked around. "When did you have time to build up such an inventory?"

"Mixey has been busy," Voldemort said, turning his head back and smirking at Harry.

"My potion brewing skills are really only so-so, so I can't guarantee I'll be a lot of help down here," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"You will be sufficient, Harry. I simply require a second set of hands. Now, lets get started."

[bethhxrmon]

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again Pt. 1

“Dreaming of you won’t help me to do all that I dreamed I could” - “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” from The Phantom of the Opera

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: It’s five years later.

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, light angst

A/N: Really hope you guys are enjoying this! My update may come later than normal next week due to my personal life. I love hearing from you guys!!!

There wasn’t a whole lot to be done. The small conference between the remaining Avengers was short. Life was slowly moving on. Governments were slowly reforming, some better than others. Harper was asked to go get some papers by Natasha so she could talk to Rhodey on her own. It rose a few questions, but Harper went off anyways.

Namely because there were only a handful of things that Natasha asked them to leave during. It had to be something personal, and Harper figured that they would figure out soon enough.

As much as they wanted to, Harper didn’t listen in on the conversation. Instead they wandered about after getting the papers they were asked to get. Harper checked their phone, seeing Ned replied to their text from earlier. It had been a couple of weeks since they hung out. Not because they were avoiding him, it was just the way things ended up playing out.

After Peter and Annie disappeared with half of the universe, Harper went out of their way to be around Ned. Not because of any feelings, but because they both understood each other the best. And despite Annie's suggestions, Harper never asked Ned out. It just never seemed like the right time to do so. Not to mention they were rarely in the city because of their job.

           Ever since Tony went off to retire from being an Avenger, Harper was out of a job. If he wasn’t going to be a superhero, then he didn’t need anyone around to work on suit designs or anything. Naturally, there wasn’t a whole lot left for Harper until they were speaking with Natasha when they were going to leave and try to find somewhere to go. She seemed to want to do something for those affected by the snap. Eventually, after a long conversation and some crying on both of their parts, Natasha resolved to take some type of action.

From there, Harper became Natasha’s assistant. Between organizing what was left of the Avengers and overseeing the organization that took care of children orphaned after the snap, there was a lot to keep track of. Besides, it gave Harper enough money to get by as well.

Scrolling through their phone, Harper saw some old messages between them and Tony. Those were from over a year ago. Ever since the snap, Harper and Tony seemed to have less and less things to talk about. That was just the way things were.

Instead, Harper went ahead and messaged back Ned. The two of them were messaging about what to do the next time they saw each other. Whatever they ended up doing, it would likely involve them talking about what it would be like if their best friends were still around. If Peter and Annie had come off that ship on that day.

What Harper never asked was if Tony would have been so quick to retire if those two had been okay. It wasn’t like anyone would have an answer anyways. Besides, there wasn’t much use in trying to figure out what-ifs.

It didn’t take much longer for Harper to find the papers and when they made their way back, they could hear Steve talking to Natasha. Meaning that it was likely okay for them to come back into the picture. Even though it didn’t take much deduction to figure it was about Clint when they came back to see Natasha doing her best not to cry.

Much like Harper and Tony’s strained relationship, Natasha and Clint hadn’t really spoken since Thanos either. Well, as far as Harper knew, he was under house arrest during that time. That was her best friend, though. Of course Natasha was keeping tabs on him.

Though, in Harper’s opinion, he seemed a bit beyond repair. Not that they could blame him, losing a whole family was pretty difficult. Except, Harper lost their sister, parents, and best friend and they weren’t an assassin.

Then again, there were probably better ways for Harper to sort out their problems too. Harper probably could have afforded to talk to Tony.

However, it was easier to simply not bring it up.

“Here are those papers, Nat,” Harper said, setting them down on the desk.

It almost seemed like Steve and Natasha were in the middle of something, but they didn’t feel bad about it. Either way, things were just oddly tense. Granted, things had been tense since day one, and now they were still just as worse off as ever.

Well, unless it was Steve talking. The guy was always so positive, and they couldn’t understand how or why. Of course, it wasn’t like anyone would be coming back any time soon. Everyone just had to make do with what was left.

Steve smiled slightly, “There was a pod of whales today. The Hudson’s looking a bit clearer too.”

Harper gave a stiff smile, biting back their tongue. How, almost everyone they cared about five years ago was gone, but, at least the whales were doing just fine. It was rude and they knew it. Steve just had a different way of moving on, and he was genuinely acting like he had moved on. Except, they knew better and so did Natasha.

“Oh, is that the peanut butter with honey in it?” Harper asked, taking a couple bread slices.

Natasha shook her head, “Just regular.”

“Screw it,” they muttered, taking the butter knife and starting to make themself a sandwich.

That was when a sound rang through the room. There was someone trying to call. At this point, it could have been anything. Harper didn’t think it would be anything that actually mattered. Instead, they went to putting their sandwich together and took a bite of it.

Natasha and Steve seemed perplexed by what was on the screen and Harper shook their head, “What’s up?”

“Is that an old message?” Steve asked, not paying attention to Harper.

Natasha shook her head, “This is right now, outside. Harper, look at this.”

Harper nodded, circling around to look at the camera. Only for their jaw to drop when they saw who was on that screen.

“But he’s been missing for five years…” they trailed off, clutching their sandwich, “Maybe you should let him in.”

Just for one moment, Harper wondered if Scott Lang was alive, could Annie still be alive? Was there still a chance to bring back everyone? It would mean that things could go back to the way they were before. That would be enough for Harper to just go back to the city, finish their degree and become a fashion designer. They would probably start talking to Tony again too.

In that moment, Harper knew they would give anything to bring back everyone. Because at the end of the day, they lost just about everything. The only person really left from how things were was Ned. And Harper liked Ned, they really did. However, there was no way he would ever compare to Annie.

They knew that they would never compare to Peter, so maybe that was how it worked. However, Harper also knew that everyone just coming back for no reason wasn’t how things worked. While they would have killed for that to happen, it was impossible.

Which was exactly why all three of them were left wondering what in the world Scott was doing. Something had to have happened, but it wasn’t anything Harper could theorize. The same could be said for Steve and Natasha since they seemed just as confused. Still, they let Scott in regardless of that.

“So… are we gonna let him in?” Harper asked, taking another bit of their sandwich.

A few moments later, Scott was inside and standing in front of them. He was pacing around, almost as though he knew exactly what he had wanted to say five seconds ago. Currently, however, he had forgotten everything he needed to say. That much was blatantly obvious to Harper.

Steve gave a concerned look at Scott, “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just a bit hungry… and am I hallucinating or is there another one of you guys now?” Scott asked, pausing to look at Natasha’s sandwich, “Is that someone’s sandwich? ‘Cause I’m starving.”

On that note, Harper watched in slight amusement as he took the sandwich and started eating it, “I’m Harper, I just work here.”

“Well I figured that, but are you a new Avenger? A lot can happen in five years,” Scott said, his mouth full of food.

Harper shook their head, “Nope, just an assistant. What about you?”

A part of Harper wanted to say everything. How they weren’t an Avenger, but their best friend technically had been. That said best friend was dead, but she was his biggest fan, and if she were alive and there she would have practically begged for an autograph.

Instead, Harper kept quiet and listened to Scott’s story.

           “You guys ever studied quantum physics?” Scott asked, seeming to start off nonchalant.

Steve let out a small, exasperated laugh, “Only for casual conversation.”

“Yeah… I was in the quantum realm and Hope she was my um… she was supposed to pull me back. And then there was… Thanos-”

“You mean the snappening?” Harper prompted.

Scott shrugged, “I guess, but um… she didn’t pull me back and I was stuck there for five years.”

“I’m so sorry Scott, that’s an awfully long time,” Natasha replied, frowning.

“But that’s the thing, it wasn’t. It only felt like five hours.”

And maybe Harper was just being delusional, but that almost sounded like there was an idea. A real point in Scott coming all this way. In being in New York. To tell all of them that there was a way to make things better.

Everyone could be brought back. And of course he would think that was possible. He hadn’t been in this world for very long.

As Scott continued to explain himself, Steve shook his head, “So you want to build a time machine?”

“No! I just want us to build something that could shrink us down to get us through ti… okay, it’s a time machine,” Scott said, a resigned look on his face.

Harper shrugged, “Is it really the craziest thing we’ve ever done?”

“Considering there’s no scientific proof… yes,” Natasha pointed out, sighing, “Look, obviously I want this to work as much as the next guy, but we need to be reasonable.”

They shook their head, “To hell with reasonable! Is it reasonable that half the universe just disappeared at the snap of some asswipe’s fingers? Does that sound like there was any science behind that before it happened? Because it sure as hell wasn’t something on my radar five years ago.” There was a pregnant pause in the room and Harper sighed, “You guys all know what I mean. Thanos winning was impossible, but here we are. What’s the worst that could come from trying this?”

“I swear I didn’t ask… Harper? Yeah, Harper, to sell this for me. But it might be worth a shot,” Scott said, sighing a bit.

Steve nodded slowly, “Maybe we could get scientific proof. We haven’t seen Tony in awhile.”

“Steve, that’s a terrible idea,” the ginger interjected only to cause another awkward silence, “I mean, come on, he has no interest in being a part of this anymore. He made that very clear. What does that say to him if we just march in there, demanding he help us with the craziest possible plan?”

Natasha sighed, nodding, “Harper’s got a point there… he might not want to help.”

“But wouldn’t he want to get everyone back? That’s what the rest of us want, right?” Steve pointed out.

Harper sighed, “Some people moved on… to a point. If you bothered to pay attention to the news, you’d see he’s married and has a kid. Maybe he still thinks about everyone, but he’s managing.”

“So you think he’s just given up?”

“I do, actually. And I feel like I would know better than any of you. Look, I get it, you guys were on the run, but I was the one who worked for him before Thanos. You guys don’t know him like I did,” they pointed out.

Scott looked between the three of them, “Um… do you want me to back out for a sec? I think I should back out for a sec. I didn’t mean to cause an argument or anything.”

“No, Scott, you’re fine. We just need to figure out how to get this to work properly. You’re right, Harper, we hadn’t been around before everything. Still, if anyone would know what to do, it would be Tony,” Natasha said, sighing as she tried to think it through.

Steve frowned, running a hand through his blond hair, “I know… just… wait! What if we all go there with Scott and have him pitch the idea. It was his idea anyways. Why should we try to sell something that we didn’t come up with?”

“I still don’t think it’ll work the way you want it to,” Harper paused before shaking their head, “But screw it, it’s the only shot we really have.”

Natasha looked at everyone, “Well, if we’re all in agreement, then let’s go over and talk to Tony tomorrow.”

“Great! That’s awesome, but um… I kinda came on a whim and I don’t really have anywhere to stay,” Scott admitted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Harper smiled a bit, “Figured as much, come on, there’s enough room for everyone here. I can get something set up for you.”

“You sure? Because I can just chill on the couch or-”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry. What’re we supposed to do with all these rooms for people who stay here when there’s really only three of us who stay here?” Harper pointed out, “Now do you want a room or not?”

Once they got a nod of approval from Natasha, they continued to lead Scott to where all the boarding rooms were. It really was meant to house all of the team at once and then some. However, it was made way before Thanos came into the picture, that much was obvious. There were only a few heroes still left, and Harper could tell that much for sure. They opened one of the rooms, frowning when they saw it was all dusty and empty.

They shook their head, “Sorry, this is a designer’s worst nightmare. If you were staying here, I’d offer to fix it up for you.”

“Why? This is… alright,” Scott said, running a finger across the nightstand.

Harper’s eyebrows rose, “Alright for a medieval peasant. Look, I may be Nat’s assistant, but I’m a fashion designer first, dude. You remember White Swan?”

“Well, yeah! She was one of the only heroes on the west coast,” Scott pointed out, “What about her?”

They smiled weakly, “Well, apart from her being my best friend, I take credit for all the suit designs, and the first one was when I was, like, fifteen and the second, way better one, I was seventeen. I’m, like, a fashion genius. Just saying.”

“Not that you’re tooting your own horn or anything,” Scott said with a weak laugh, “She was one of the-”

“Yeah… she went up to space with Tony and Peter. Tony came back, but they didn’t. Which sucks because I was actually starting to enjoy having Peter around. Like a little brother, ya know?” Harper explained, quickly blinking back tears, “But that’s not important. If this works, they’ll be back and it’ll be like none of this ever even happened. And you can get your lady friend back.”

There was something about knowing that Scott hadn’t even been able to grieve anyone he lost. Something that gave an added hope or delusion to everyone. If Steve and Natasha even began to believe this was a possibility, then that meant they were believing it was a possibility.

Then again, Harper knew nothing about the quantum realm or quantum physics in the first place. It seemed like that was all Scott’s territory for the moment. Hopefully, that would mean Tony knew what to do.

Only, deep down, Harper knew that if there were a way to get everyone back and Tony figured it out, he would have told everyone first. At the same time, being in space like that caused some sort of massive shift they were unable to comprehend. It was possible he hadn’t done anything to bring anyone back.

Except, they doubted it. Regardless of any unspoken fights between them, Harper knew Tony wouldn’t have just given up like that. They stayed standing there in Scott’s temporary room.

He cleared his throat, “You alright?”

“As alright as I’m gonna be. I just… I don’t want what happened last time everyone thought they could fix this to happen again,” they explained.

“What happened last time? If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t need to say anything if it’s too much.”

Harper shook their head, “It’s cool, so Thanos had all the stones. There was this one lady, Carol, she basically led everyone to where he was after… everything. It was supposed to be a piece of cake and a last resort. Get the gauntlet and snap everyone back into place. Turns out he destroyed all the stones.”

“Hey, I know you’re supposed to be an adult and stuff, but… do you need a hug or something, kid?”

There were tears in Harper’s blue eyes and they quickly nodded. Scott stepped over and hugged them, and Harper could hear Scott sniffling a bit too. They all had really lost someone. All of this still felt like a never ending nightmare that they couldn’t wake up from. None of it was fair. Why did one… one thing get to decide half the universe was going to die. No one else wanted this. The one person who had this goal was dead, and everyone else had to live with the aftermath of it all.

At this point, Harper didn’t know where to go from there if Scott’s outlandish time traveling idea wouldn’t work.

It was well past midnight when Harper finally decided to call Ned. There wasn’t exactly a good way to explain what happened that day. Maybe it was supposed to all be completely secret, but how were they supposed to know? Besides, it wasn’t like Harper had ever been one to keep secrets from their closest friends. At least, not completely.

“So… something kinda crazy happened today,” Harper started.

There was a pause before Ned responded, “What happened?”

“Do you remember Ant-Man?”

“Yeah, what about him? Didn’t he disappear with everyone else or something?” he asked, not seeming to think anything of it.

Harper sighed a bit, thinking through their words again, “Well, you see… he showed up today. Kind of out of nowhere. He was stuck in the quantum realm for five years. It turns out everyone in charge of pulling him back disappeared.”

“Oh, that’s crazy. What’s he like?”

“Um… pretty cool, you know, for losing a lot of close friends and family and then everyone still alive is five years older. He’s handling it better than I would’ve,” they said.

The conversation didn’t contain the possibility of time travel. Originally, Harper was going to tell him. But if it didn’t work out, they didn’t want him to be disappointed a second time around. Maybe it was best to keep the disappointment to a minimum. If it worked, they were sure he would be one of the first to know.

Tag List (just ask if you’d like to be added): @flushings-here @moonstruckholland​  @gaypanda​ @upsidedownparker @parkerpuffwrites @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy @ijustdontknowsometimes @dolphinsarecuteandstuff @twilightparker @lcy-thot @buzzinglee

[leighbot]

day three! up quite early for me! i have no solid plan to keep this going for twenty more days but we’ll see :)

a sappy excerpt from my 50 first dates au (and this also fits my think written prompt for day 11 sooooooo i’m using it)

“I want to get out of the house for a bit,” Zayn says, leaning against the doorjamb and peering into the kitchen where Harry is unloading bags of groceries. Finn is clinging to Zayn’s calf, just over a year old and completely obsessed with his baba. “Been reading my journal and feel kind of…”

“Closed in?” Harry offers, pulling back from one of the upper cabinets.

“Yeah.”

“What colours did you read today?”

“Mostly the yellow one… family.”

“There’s a fair a couple towns over; would you want to go for a drive?”

“Can the baby come?”

Harry snorts. “’Can the baby come’,” he repeats as he walks towards them before bending down to pick up Finn. “Of course the baby can come. He’ll love the lights.”

“And the smells,” Zayn says, already dreaming of fried dough. He wants some with cinnamon and some with strawberries.

“Fried dough,” Harry says, smiling wide at Finn. “Baba wants some fried dough.”

Zayn doesn’t know that he’ll get used to the fact that Harry knows everything about him while he knows almost nothing about Harry.

Harry must realise his thoughts because his smile fades quickly. “Sor-“

“Nope!” Zayn says, a little too loudly as he lifts a hand. “A lot of my last few entries made it clear you’re feeling really… guilty, or sommat, lately. No ‘sorry’ allowed today.”

Seriousness lines the corners of Harry’s mouth as he nods. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “Want to get ready for a carnival?”

“I’ll take Finn,” Zayn offers, holding out his hands for his little boy. He’s already missing having him in his arms. “Let’s go get ready, baby.”

~*~

Two hours and plenty of fried dough bites later, Zayn and Harry are sat next to each other with Finn on Zayn’s left in a whirly ride. It’s still early in the evening and they’re far from the only family milling around, though the teenagers are starting to come out in full force. “I’m going to pee myself,” Harry laughs around a particularly fast turn.

“That’s cute,” Zayn snorts, keeping Finn close to his side. He’d apologized the first time they rode this ride, when he kept pressing into Harry’s side. He flushes now when he does it again, his own weight feeling heavy where he’s tucked under Harry’s arm. Harry leans in when the ride slows and coaxes Zayn into a quick kiss before the carnie comes around to check that their cart is empty.

“I love you,” Harry tells him.

Before Zayn can think of a non-awkward way to respond, Finn is crawling over Zayn’s lap and pushing at Harry’s stomach. “No!” he says. “No no no.”

Zayn laughs and pulls Finn away from Harry. “Baba’s protector,” he jokes as he stands, shifting Finn to his hip. “Do we want to go on the Ferris Wheel?”

“Yea!” Finn agrees, fisting his hands in Zayn’s t-shirt. He’s tugged it out of shape, the V-neck more of a U-neck at this point, and Zayn tugs it out of his fist with a few kisses of encouragement.

“Gonna need to go shopping soon,” Harry tells him. “You’ve gone through all of your own shirts and now you’ve ruined mine, as well.”

“Your son did it,” Zayn corrects, smiling easily when he looks over to Harry. “Why don’t you just buy more and I’ll snag them from your wardrobe?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Of course that’s your solution.”

They jump in line for the Ferris Wheel, Zayn bouncing Finn on his hip as the baby begins to doze.

“You’re different today,” Harry notes as they step forward.

“I’m different every day, I suppose.”

“Different-er today.”

“Not so different-er that I know that wasn’t a word.”

Harry blinks before breaking out into a huge grin. “You don’t tease like that very often. You’re fiesty today. Reminds me of the day you proposed.”

“I proposed?”

“That usually takes you by surprise.”

Zayn frowns, turning away. He doesn’t want to think that he would keep Harry trapped in this life but a part of him thinks that Harry already knows this. They shuffle forward in the queue.

“It was the perfect day: we went shopping at a farmer’s market and bought a tonne of fruit and veg. We each had our hands full of things and, at the last stall, you saw a woman selling flowers.”

“What kind?” Zayn asks, enchanted with the story. It’s like he’s being told about someone else’s life instead of his own except that he feels satisfaction in his soul, like pieces of his puzzle are being fitted together and the overall picture is becoming clearer.

“Really ugly ones.”

Zayn laughs, caught off guard. “What?” he asks. He’s too loud for Finn, who wakes briefly from his nap and pouts up at Zayn with his big green eyes. Zayn brushes his fuzzy blonde hair back from his face and rocks him to sleep again.

“There were normal ones, like a daisy and a yellow tulip, but then there were a lot that looked like fancy weeds and a couple that I promise were just leaves plucked off of trees. The whole bouquet was beautiful altogether but really not lovely when you took apart the pieces.”

“Well, stop feeling the need to over-examine everything in your life and maybe all you’ll see are the beautiful, whole pictures.”

“Haha, that’s fair,” Harry says. His hand is a solid weight against the small of Zayn’s back as they step up for their turn. They get into the buggy, one of the big ones where they’re completely enclosed and there’s a bar in the middle of the bucket that keeps them rigged to the machine. Zayn steps in first and doesn’t move much further, forcing Harry to crowd in next to him.

“I wanna kiss you at the top of the Ferris Wheel when Finn can’t yell at you,” Zayn says, his voice barely over a whisper in the non existent space between them. Harry bares his teeth in a playful growl and Zayn laughs and lunges away, mindful of the baby still in his arms.

~*~

They get in their kiss- kisses, really, as Zayn’s lips feel a little chapped by the time they’re disembarking- and Finn doesn’t wake up until they’re walking around the grounds again. They stop for a bit, making up a small pseudo-picnic space on a patch of grass behind one of the rides just before the parking lot begins. They let Finn stretch his legs and toddle between them while he snacks on a fistful of cereal that Zayn doesn’t think actually makes it into his mouth.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Zayn says a few minutes later, his eyes heavy and the only thing he can think of is resting his head on Harry’s chest and taking a late afternoon nap. Then something occurs to him – he remembers something he saw from the top of the Ferris Wheel. “Oh, no, come on. Let’s go.”

“What?” Harry drags out the word, clearly half-asleep himself.

Zayn gets Finn on his hip and grabs for Harry’s hand once the diaper bag is all packed up. “C’mon.”

Obviously curious, Harry links their fingers and falls into step with Zayn. They cross the asphalt and weave through the growing crowds. The sun is low in the sky and some of the lights on the rides are starting to come on. Zayn can tell the second Harry realises their destination, his footsteps falling faster and his hand holding Zayn’s tighter.

“This is… so cheesy,” Zayn admits once they’re stopped. He drops Harry’s hand to rub at an itch on the back of his neck that he’s pretty sure is just a nervous tic.

“This is perfect!” Harry contradicts, nearly running to hop onto the carousel floor. He grabs onto one of the poles as it stops moving unexpectedly and Zayn hops on behind him to help get him steady, Finn between them as they walk about.

“I know which one you want,” Zayn says, nodding at a blue-scaled dragon hovering above the ground.

“Will I break it?” Harry asks, though he eagerly crosses over and hops on. There’s a second pause where Zayn wonders if he’s still worried about it falling but the whole thing stays connected to the metal pole fixed through the dragon’s shoulders and down to the floor.

“Where should we sit, Finn?” Zayn asks, kissing Finn’s cheeks.

“Dadda!”

“Yeah? You can go with daddy.” Zayn passes him over and climbs onto the animal next to Harry, not realising what it is until he’s slinging the diaper bag from Harry’s shoulder across the horn and noticing that he’s chosen a purple unicorn. “Nice!”

“Baba?” Finn asks, looking the wrong way.

“I’m right here baby,” Zayn calls out. He’s close enough that Finn can reach his hand with Harry holding his shorts so he doesn’t over balance. The music starts a second before the ride does and Harry leans his forehead on the pole of his dragon and watches Zayn. “What?” Zayn asks, wiping at his face as if there’s something on it.

“Just can’t get enough of you,” Harry says simply. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Zayn bites at his bottom lip and pulls out his mobile phone. He turns on the camera. “Say it again,” he orders Harry, smiling when he watches Harry’s performer personality come out in the brightness of his eyes. Harry repeats himself for his audience and Zayn turns the view around so he can see himself. “Me too,” he says softly, smiling wide when he sees Harry’s expression change out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t let yourself forget this right now.” He drags the camera in a swoop around him, capturing the lights and sounds from the ride and the people around them. “You’re in love and a beautiful man loves you right back.”

He stops recording and sends the video to his email immediately, not risking losing this one. By the time he tucks it into his pocket, Harry’s stood next to him and is getting his free hand around the curve of Zayn’s jaw. Ignoring Finn’s babbled protests, Harry captures Zayn’s mouth in a kiss a little too long and wet to be decent for public. “I love you,” Harry says when he lets Zayn go. Zayn laughs and pushes his fingers through Finn’s hair to soothe his jealousy. The ride begins to slow and Zayn smacks another kiss to Harry’s mouth.

“I love you,” Zayn says. He knows he doesn’t always say it, doesn’t always get there each day, but he can’t imagine waking up tomorrow and not feeling all of this right now. “I love you, I love our family, I love how happy we seem despite… everything.”

“The baby and I will be here for you every single day,” Harry insists. “Just like I know you’ll be here for us.”

[justaramblingromantic]

ᴋɪss ᴍᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi/EiRin

Type: Canon-divergent AU, Post-series, Lost and Found-verse, Freestyle

Word Count: 2628

A/N: Oops, I forgot Lost and Found. Fifth (and last) kiss prompt. I have no idea what’s going on anymore. Passive aggressive!Eishi is fun to write, as always. Angry!Rindou, even more fun! Ufufufu. Oh yah, rating for sexy-tiemz~

She was staring unseeingly out the car window.

It was drizzling outside, so the scenery went by in a dark, wet blur. It was late evening, the roads were fairly quiet – they were on their way back after attending the opening night of an acquaintance’s new restaurant. They were both dressed formally for the event – he was handsomely attired in a charcoal three-piece precisely tailored to his whipcord lean form, and she was wearing a figure hugging little black dress that accentuated her curves and showed off her long, lithe legs. They made a striking couple, and had received many similar compliments that evening despite her demurring replies that they were ‘just friends.’

He had been silent, letting her speak on both of their behalves. There was no indication whatsoever from him regarding his thoughts on the matter when she glanced cursorily at him. In hindsight, why would he care what other people said? He barely paid attention to anything non-food related for the most parts.

The dinner service had been fantastic. She had nothing but praise for the full course meal, something which her companion had duly echoed with his own, more restrained salutations to their delighted host.

They had left the establishment shortly after, sated by good food and entertaining company, and it was only when they were both seated in the privacy of his vehicle, that he slowly revealed clearer hints of his opinion on the evening.

The atmosphere within the dim car interior was entirely quiet on the way home, but the silence was hardly oppressive or strained. Rather, it was subtly…charged.

Tsukasa was at the wheel and as with nearly everything he did these days, he maneuvered the sleek, expensive sedan with precise, mesmerizing mastery and masculine grace. She sat in the passenger seat beside him in uncharacteristically subdued silence, deliberately avoiding looking at him, an entirely unfocused, distracted air surrounding her. It was as if she was off in her own little world.

Not for the first time, a part of her could not help but contemplate the complex nature of their torturous relationship. She dizzily wondered how it was that they had both ended up in this exact position right now.

Her glowing gold slit eyes slowly glazed over. A growing flush coated her cheeks. Everything felt so dazedly distant at the moment, barely relative.

A soft, unsteady sigh escaped her.

She shifted subtly in her seat, fighting the urge to arch her hips, a slowly growing desperation to relieve that aching, mounting pressure building inside of her, more and more unbearable by the second.

She was starting to breathe faster, a bit more erratically, the rush of blood and adrenaline thrumming heatedly through her veins and making other more…sensitive parts of her throb uncontrollably.

The passing streetlamps briefly cast their waxy, yellowish light on the delicate scrap of lace and silk that dangled loosely around her slender ankle, her panties momentarily abandoned and forgotten like her sense of propriety, completely overtaken by lust and need. Her leg twitched on its own accord, restless. It was all she could do to keep still.

Her driver continued to navigate them along the stretch of Tokyo’s streets smoothly, and calmly ignored her growing fluster and dishevelment. His gaze remain firmly fixed on the road, his noble, aristocratic profile revealing not even a hint of what he was thinking.

She closed her eyes and bit her lips. They were already so red and bruised from how hard she had been trying to control herself. She was starting to quiver; she felt so intolerably hot all over. A breathless moan stole from that rosy mouth. Oh, gods.

This time, he responded to her frustrated little cry. He took his eyes briefly off the road, those lavender irises several shades darker than normal raptly focused on the beautiful redhead slowly coming undone beside him.

“Would you like me to stop?” he enquired mildly, as if he was simply offering a genteel suggestion that had nothing to do with the fact that his hand was currently sandwiched between her trembling thighs, those long adroit fingers of his moist with her honeyed slickness, the digits buried so deep in her and steadily driving her crazy ever since they left the restaurant.

She shook her head jerkily. “N-No,” she breathed, almost whining.

“…No?” His index and third fingers were flexing slowly, deliberately inside of her, thumb brushing against her sensitive clitoris, flicking the wet pink pearl that sat at the juncture of her legs.

“Don’t stop. Please,” she gasped like a prayer. Her hand coming to grip his wrist, blunt nails digging into his skin, her hips rubbing up against his hand for more of that maddening friction. “Eishi…!”

The hem of her short dress was bunched up around her waist, scandalously exposing her soft, rounded flanks, willowy legs and the sensual, lewd sight of his hand possessively cupping her womanhood, slippery and dewy with the traces of her sexual excitement. Rindou squeezed her eyes shut, her head lolling back against the headrest of his bimmer, panting. She writhed fruitlessly against him, trying to get him to move the way she needed him to but to no avail.

He had been cruel, teasing her relentlessly for the last half an hour or so with that hand of his, caressing her soft pink, nether lips with ghostly touches that heightened her awareness of him to the point of unbearable hypersensitivity, deliberately, slowly tracing the folds of her weeping slit, erotically massaging her needy flesh until she was wet and sticky and shuddering with unfulfilled pleasure.

“Let me come, please please please let me come…!” She was begging, and so passionately that he could no longer ignore her calls. A sharp, abrupt turn of the steering wheel later, he pulled the car over by the side of the quiet, deserted road, threw on the hazard lights, and proceeded to get her off properly like she had been wanting him to.

Swiftly undoing his seatbelt, he leaned over, caught her puffy lips with his own even as he thrust his fingers faster, harder into her. She was frantic, her moans muffled by his hungry, lustful kiss, her hips rising in tandem to meet his strokes even as his other hand curled around the side of her waist, holding her down so that he could keep her from squirming away from his punishing pace. Seeing her like this, helpless and entirely under his mercy was doing something to him too, sending deeply primal urges, animalistic instincts and desires spearing through the refined veneer of his reserved, knightly persona. The full, unrelenting force of his complete, undivided attention was overwhelming. She buckled and clutched at his jacket, wrinkling the material badly in her hands but neither noticed. He devoured her mouth and swallowed her smoky cries of pleasure, working her all over and so thoroughly that she was becoming a beautiful, sweaty mess in his merciless clutches.

She did not last long, after being toyed and played with the way he had her. That liquid, molten heat coiling in the pit of her belly grew and grew and grew until she could hardly stand the pressure anymore, and then, it abruptly burst. Her orgasm slammed into her, and she stiffened and howled her release into his mouth, her body jerking, her thighs clamping down hard around his hand, keeping him still as the strong involuntary convulsions of her inner walls squeezed and milked hungrily at his fingers, buried all the way up to his knuckles in her.

Her alluring heat, her explosive, ferocious passion, her heady, irresistible scent, they drove him to an utter, complete distraction. The urge to take her there and then was overwhelming, only barely overridden by common sense and his own self-control. In consolation, he kissed her gasping mouth deep and slow, willing himself to get a firm grip, methodically cooling the restless, ravenous fire stirring his blood. He continued to kiss her as he waited for her to regain herself, even as the tremors of her release continued for some time afterwards, leaving her trembling and satiated. She started to respond, eagerly and amorously, until he pulled away at last, his dampened hand slipping from between her languorously parting limbs.

Spent, she reclined against the backrest and watched with glowing, heavy lidded eyes as he calmly wiped off the evidences of her pleasure with tissue. Then, just as nonchalantly, he resumed the drive back to her place, guiding the powerful machine back on the road to rejoin traffic. There were no words exchanged between them, and the rest of the journey was made in silence. The previous needy, frenetic atmosphere turned calm, tranquil. She was becoming sleepy now, and after wiggling the skirt of her dress back down over her bare hips, she turned and curled up on her seat like a contented and well fed feline, facing him so she could stare at his profile and wonder what his stunningly aggressive energy from this evening was all about. She received no answer regardless of how closely she studied him, and eventually ended up drifting off.

She was roused awake shortly after; they had arrived at the building of her apartment. The car had stopped, the engine switched off. He was still silent, but watching her now with that same glittering, enigmatic expression in his lavender eyes. She shivered under his inscrutable stare, and much to her chagrin, could feel arousal slowly start to build and tingle between her legs once more.

She started to free herself from her seatbelt, getting ready to get out of the vehicle. She licked her lips, still swollen from his ravaging kisses. That dull throb of excitement increased in intensity, just a bit. She squeezed her thighs together, surreptitiously.

“Do you wanna come up for cof-?”

“Rindou,” he interrupted her before she could finish. “Do you let your ‘friends’ touch you like that?”

She blinked at his abrupt, but very quiet question.

“…Huh?” she replied intelligently. Like that? Like what??

“Do you let your ‘friends’ touch you the way I just had?” he repeated with a harder, clipped tone.

“No!” She continued to gape at him in surprise, the dots slowly connecting in her head, as she started to figure out where all his intense displeasure was coming from.

“…Wait a minute; is this all because of what I said at the restaurant earlier?” she uttered dumbly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. So that was really what he was all on fire for! She was still gawking in disbelief, going on the defensive. “What else was I supposed to say? I was taken by surprise!”

And also…

“Did you just get me off in order to prove a point??”

Unbelievable.

He ignored her demand in favor of firing out one of his own.

“Are you ashamed to be with me?”

“No?! I don’t even know what we are!” They had only started this…whatever-it-is thing between them very recently, after dancing around each other for god knew how long, the tension between them building until it had abruptly resolved itself in the only way that mattered. They also both never really spoken about it, and so she had drawn her own conclusion. “I thought that we were having a friends-with-benefits type of arrangement!”

His eyes flashed dangerously at her claim. He would not allow her to think that way. He enunciated his stand with terse clarity.

“I don’t do friends-with-benefits. I’m not that open minded, and most definitely not with you.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“What; you mean we’ve been dating all this time?” Why did no one ever tell her anything??

“Yes.”

“Fine!” she bellowed back, before she could even think better. In fact, she was getting so peeved with him, she didn’t even want to be in this conversation for even a moment longer. One hand scrambled for the door latch, the other reached down to her ankle in an effort to pull her panties free from where it had gotten tangled up with her heel, abruptly recalling its presence. Once she had achieved that feat, she wadded the intimate scrap of lace and silk in her hand and lobbed it straight at his stupid head.

“You know what; for your first official duty as a boyfriend, you can jolly well learn how not to use sex to punish your girlfriend!! Congratulations; I was gonna get you laid tonight but you just went and cockblocked yourself!!”

The door slammed opened; she would have sailed out of the car with her nose high in the air and her back straight like a queen if not for the fact that she was still all wobbly from having his hands all over her earlier. Just one brisk step out of the car and her legs gave out from under her. She went down in a sprawl. Very humiliating.

He swiftly emerged from his side too, long strides eating up the ground as he rounded the front of the car and over to her. She was already struggling to get back up; the short, tight dress and tall stilettos did not make her recovery easy, and since she had just donated her panties to the idiot boyfriend to wear as a hat, she was not keen to flash the public by accident. Good thing he was there, since he proceeded to lift her and set her back down on her feet as if she weighed next to nothing. She tried to bat him away the moment she was steady, scowling belligerently at him.

“I’m so pissed at you right now; get your hands off me, asshole-” she blustered only to be reeled straight into his arms and thoroughly kissed again. He was also grabbing her ass and pressing her right up against the growing hardness between his legs. This pervert; he was getting turned on by her anger.

She let herself be distracted for a good five seconds before she shoved away from him, swallowing down the moan that threatened to escape at his dizzying proximity. She tottered away, wagging her finger at him.

“I’m serious, I’m hopping mad at you. You better be begging for forgiveness if you want to get back into my good graces!”

“Fair enough,” he allowed reluctantly. She wasn’t going to entertain him tonight, and he was smart enough to ease off to let her fiery temper cool down some. “But Rindou; you know I want you as much as you want me.”  

She glowered at him, unable to refute the truth in his plain statement. “Pretty sure I can trade you in for someone a lot less problematic, hmmph.”

Now it was his turn to glare. “I will turn you over my knee.”

She did not know why, but that thought kind of excited her, which was why she held her tongue.

“Rindou. I’m not joking.”

“That’s really rich coming from someone who thinks that I let my ‘friends’ touch me all over,” she retorted snidely, and he could not help the wince at her pointed jab. That had not been his smartest move that evening, even if he had been righteously upset by her assumption. Friends-with-benefits, was she out of her mind? He wasn’t going to settle for anything less than marriage.

She tossed her crimson hair over her shoulder and stalked into her apartment building, but not before giving him that universal ‘you’re skating on thin ice, pal’ look that all erroneous boyfriends were familiar with. This relationship was already off to a great start, it seemed.  

He palmed his face. She was really going to make him grovel, wasn’t she?

And what the hell was he supposed to do with her panties?

[shiobookmark]

Violet Evergarden Movie

... wow, book fans really don’t like this movie huh? Spoilers below. And a linguistic and cultural question for native Japanese speakers.

It was a good movie. I don’t think I was in the right emotional state to watch it unfortunately, it just didn’t explore Violet’s psychology as deeply as I would have liked.  The series really hit the hardest for me when it was exploring Violet’s trauma and survivors guilt. There were hints of that in the beginning of the film what with her insisting she’s no one to be glorified, and that scene with Diedfried returning her hair ribbon. She’s walking past him, away somewhere else and not even conscious of who he is, but when he reaches into his pocket she thinks he’s about to pull a weapon and puts him in an armlock. He forgives her for it instantly, which considering his spitting hatred of her in the TV series is... interesting. Honestly that dropped plot thread is what I find the least forgiveable. Hodgins is understandably leery about letting him anywhere near Violet considering he’s why she was in the army in the first place, but Cattleya points out that maybe their reconcilng is what Violet needs. I’d argue that maybe she needs to stay far the fuck away from her abuser but okay, they both lost Gilbert, I kind of get what she means. 

Now the issue fans of the books seem to have is with Gilbert. In the novel my understanding is that he faked his death, and everyone knew he was alive and kept it from Violet. His goal being that she should learn to live without him, because when she blindly follows his orders she can’t ever be free. Which is admirable, but seeing how much Violet suffers and becomes suicidal with grief, the fact her friends apparently keep up this charade in the novel is pretty heinous. Maybe she takes it better in the novel? In the movie, Gilbert was displaced following the war, ending up at an enemy hospital without his ID tags. A reviewer mentioned that they found it hard to believe he’d be displaced, and that his uniform wouldn’t give him away but: 1. Pretty sure that happens to soldiers all the time in real war. 

2. From memory both sides of the war wore green uniforms, it’s not hard to think Gilbert’s uniform badges were burned and blown away since he lost an arm and was under fallen rock. Afterwards, he drifted to an island that used to be part of enemy territory but had since become independent. They had lost all their young men to the war*, not a single person had returned and the town was dying as a result. He stayed on as a teacher. And he didn’t want to see Violet because despite claiming to love her, despite wanting her to have a happy childhood, to see things that were beautiful and enjoy cute and pretty things, he made her into a killing machine. We can debate about how much of a choice he had, the implication in the series is that Diedfried demonstrated Violet’s killing prowess in front of the higher ups and if Gilbert hadn’t taken charge of her someone less scrupulous would have. But the fact is he felt he’d ruined her life and wanted to stay out of it. Plus her existence reminded him of his failure to protect her, the cruelty he was forced to commit in war and all that stuff. Perfectly sound motivation in my opinion.  Staying on the island was a weird sort of penance, helping former enemy civilians rebuild and educating their children. This particular fan didn’t like this weakness because apparently Gilbert in the book spends his time amassing power and resources to help defend Violet however he can. And this Gilbert is not that.  I don’t love what that implies about novel Gilbert, because while yes, he’s paying her back, it does imply he has an awful lot of control over her future and pokes his nose into her business. Even if it’s to keep bad people off her back it’s not exactly hands off, is it? In the movie he’s characterised as a boy who was drafted into the army young, with all the weight of his family legacy on him, never got any freedom and basically had to carry that responsibility alone. And the idea of having broken a fragile and helpless little girl into a tool of war broke him.  I liked that, to be frank. It really put to bed any lingering doubts I had about his feelings for Violet because frankly even if it is romantic (which aishiteiru would imply) I can’t believe he’d ever take advantage of or hurt her. He seems to have enough awareness of his effect on other people to be capable of not doing that.  Now, the ending. Their future together is left really ambiguous but we know Violet pretty much retired from ghostwriting on the spot and lived on that island with Gilbert for the rest of her days. While people on the mainland are mostly unaware of where she retired to, the people on the island remember her as something of a local hero who helped their people write letters and built their post office into a thriving business that’s still got the highest output (in the country?) even 60 years later.  She may have also taught at the school. The same reviewer had issues with the implication she basically abandoned everyone for Gilbert, but I don’t think that’s the case. Rather she had no reason to continue ghost writing. It wasn’t a passion of hers, she began as a method of therapy and healing, to learn to understand love. Once she’d done that there was no reason to continue. Her writing evolved. She found a place to stay and she’s remembered. There’s no mention of Gilbert at all. She’s on the local stamp in her iconic costume, we have no idea if she married Gilbert, if they were simply lifelong friends, or even if either of them are dead. Did she outlive Gilbert? We don’t know! Now the problem I have with this is a problem I was always going to have: The movie sort of implied she needed Gilbert in order to move on, and she did leave behind her friends in some capacity to be with the one she loved.  I was hoping for a more nuanced ending where it was far clearer she didn’t need Gilbert to survive, but wanted him.  The movie certainly implies that’s the case, as she’s willing to leave the island without seeing him for the sake of the terminally ill boy she made a promise to. Her other relationships take priority. But the ending sort of undermines that with the explanation she stayed on the island with him. Personally I think it’s left ambiguous enough that we can easily interpret it the way we want to.  Which leads me to my question. I’m curious as to if there’s any cultural ambiguity to the word ‘aishiteiru’ at all or if Japanese simply lacks an intense expression of love that isn’t romantic.

Is Violet and Gilbert’s relationship one that delightfully transcends traditional labels, defying the audience to pin it exclusively as ‘platonic’ or ‘romantic’? It would certainly seem to be in keeping with the overall series theme of love that’s difficult to express in words, in the emphasis the series places on familial and platonic love over romantic. Or is this a nuance exclusively created by a Western framework? Where an ‘I love you’ is capable of being platonic, no matter how dramatic the circumstances? Is ‘aishiteiru’ only for Romeo and Juliet, or can it be for friends and family too? Is the series trying to transcend the limitations of its native language? If aishiteiru is usually romantic, is this series trying to use it in a broader context? Daisy writes a letter to her parents and the screen cuts to white text on black that reads aishiteiru, with that editing implying it’s what was written in the final lines of her letter, or at least it’s what she’s saying behind the words. Is it the sentiment? Are they using the phrase aishiteiru as a link between Daisy and Violet, as the series catchphrase, while the loves are supposed to be seen as different?

And if aishiteiru is always romantic, how would a Japanese author write about an ambiguous ‘I love you’? When ‘daisuki’ just doesn’t cut it? I doubt Gilbert would say ‘daisuki,’ would it have as much weight? Am I interpreting it as less meaningful than it actually is? Does Japan have a concept of phillia? Deep, long lasting and intense love between friends? Is there even a line between ‘different’ love? And how does this Steven Universe scene read in Japanese?

This is said as aishiteiru in Japanese, I saw it in a random clip on youtube. In English, he’s clearly addressing Connie and the gems, his family, as he leaves them behind.  In Japanese, would this simply be a romantic confession to Connie? Do you lose that nuance? In English he could be confessing to Connie, but given his general freedom with his affection it’s far more likely it’s meant for everyone. He’d not likely single Connie out as the only person he says goodbye to. In comparison, here’s a similar scene where he says ‘I love you’ to Peridot, who he’s far less close to. I can’t check, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this was ‘daisuki.’

This is driving me nuts please is there ANY ambiguity to this phrase at all? Or is it just normally used romantically? As in a ‘well you could use it platonically. We’d understand from context, but it’d be a bit weird.’

[choisgirls]

*NYOOMS IN* GHOST HINTING GHOST HUMTIMG GHOST HUNTING-Hear me out. By some strange turn of events, Jumin's penthouse has become haunted and the ghost taken Elly captive! *gasp* Its up to the RFA to solve the mystery, protect the world, and most importantly, save Elizabeth the III!! ~Tex (did you like my YA blurb format lolololol???)

Anonymous said:WITH FEARLESS AUTHOR, FOUR! ZERO! FOUR! AT THE HELM, NOTHING CAN GO WRONG! (or can it….?) ~Tex

EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH *EVIL CACKLING* ~Admin 404

WORDS: 3,272

THEME: Rfspook! ^^

PAIRINGS: None yall this is a spook but not spook

Masterlist~

Why did Jumin assumehe could have a nice, normal dinner with the members of the RFA over at hishouse?

Did he not learn fromthe last time Luciel had come over? Did he truly not remember the heart attackhe almost had when the younger man jumped out of the wine fridge with somecheap plastic mask on? It was a wonder how he managed to sneak the mask intohis house. He had ignored the redhead for a solid month and a half solelybecause he scared the daylights out of his dear Elizabeth the Third jumping outlike he did. But now he’s back, along with the rest of the members, and Juminhad to stay on his toes.

He wanted to simplysit down, ease the tension between the group, maybe talk over some wine…

But now, instead, hefinds himself crumpled on the floor, staring up at a large, confusing, blackmass that seemed to be floating above him. Something within him snapped, he wasunable to speak or process the situation. This… fog had taken Elizabeth the Third-his life line- away from him. Ripped away from him right in front of his eyes.

He had a habit ofbelieving only in the things he could see and explain. This.. this was madness.He couldn’t make any sense of the situation and that was infuriating. His mindwas racing through any and all logical possibilities but.. how could he thinklogically if it was something impossible?

The only reason he wassnapped back to his senses was because Jihyun and touched his shoulder lightly.He turned to see his friend’s face now pale from fear and concern for hisfriend on the floor. A quick look to the rest of the room, he can see everyoneelse was just as pale as Jihyun was. Who wouldn’t after witnessing that?

Now, he was angry. Hiseyes fixated on Saeyoung. It had to have been another prank of his. He pulledhimself off of the floor suddenly, causing everyone to jump at his suddenaction. In the blink of an eye, he has the front of Saeyoung’s shirt balled up inhis fist, his face leaning close enough to be intimidating. Saeyoung lookedback with eyes the size of a dinner plate, throwing his hands up in defense,letting his body language ask for mercy from the taller man.

“Whatever you’vedone, whatever trick you have pulled, whatever CRAZY idea you have UPHERE,” he emphasized by tapping the redhead in the center of the foreheadwith his other hand, “You better RECONSIDER it, and BRING ME BACKELIZABETH THE THIRD.” Who knew Saeyoung could turn even paler than he wasa minute ago? It’s not very often that Jumin Han loses his cool, let alonephysically threatens a person. Saeyoung struggled to get the words out, asJumin’s eyes practically bore into his own, looking for answers.

“I.. I didn’t dothat- I don’t know what that was!” he cried out, starting to pry his shirtfrom Jumin’s grip. Zen ran over to try and help get Jumin to let go, Jihyuntried to pull Jumin backwards at the same time. He finally released his shirtand took a step back, watching as Zen stepped protectively in front ofSaeyoung.

“What do youthink you’re doing? You can’t just threaten someone like that! He obviouslydidn’t take your fur ball! Did you miss the fact that we were all standing herewhile that… that THING just appeared out of thin air?” Zen scolded,throwing his arm out to gesture where the black mass had once been. He had apoint, Jumin knew that. But he couldn’t help but think Saeyoung still had somethingto do with this. After all, the redhead was typically known for his prankingnature and mischievous ways. He wouldn’t be crossed from Jumin’s suspect listany time soon.

“Guys do.. do youthink.. that.. might’ve been.. a ghost?” Yoosung choked out, stillslightly shaking where he stood. Jaehee sighed softly before shaking her head.

“Are there trulysuch things as ghosts? Even then, would they be capable of taking a live catand just.. vanishing?” she asked, looking towards the rest of the group,“Shouldn’t there be a valid explanation for this?”

“Jumin, haven’tyou seen a few odd things have happened lately, anyway?” Jihyunquestioned, tilting his head in curiousity, “I remember you telling methat things have been… off.” Jumin’s eyebrows came together in thought,it took a moment to recall what Jihyun was mentioning, but he rememberedvividly.

“The other day,doors kept moving- not completely closing but not completely opening. After awhile, I chalked it up to be Elizabeth playing with them,” he said. Helooked to the ceiling to recall another instance, “I have been hearingthings like someone walking or small cooing sounds, I also decided that theymust have just been linked to some body guards of mine walking around, callingElizabeth.”

“So… Younever… Saw any body guards though, have you? Did you see Elly playing withthe doors?” Saeyoung finally piped up, slightly jumping at the speed theJumin whipped his head over to lock eyes with him.

“Her name isELIZABETH, and no. I never saw these things. Those are just the logicalanswers,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Saeyoung, “What are youinsinuating?”

“Well,”Saeyoung started, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt,“If you didn’t see anything..maybe it really was a ghost?” He put his glasses back on to practicallysee the burning hatred Jumin currently held in his eyes- it made him jump andfeel a little sheepish.

The room exploded intoconversation all at once. Everyone going back and forth, theorizing if it werea ghost or if there were logical explanations for it all- all of the voicesmixing in inside Jumin’s head. The words clash together, every little soundstarted to annoy him. He crossed his arms and hung his head slightly, closinghis eyes and straining to keep them closed. If he could just see all of thethreads.. see where they tangle.. he could calm down and see things clearer-but he couldn’t. He was too… What was this emotion? Upset? He couldn’t tellwhat was real and what wasn’t anymore- he let out a loud groan, to express..whatever he was currently feeling.

Jumin was strung out. Hewas at his wits end. What was in his home; what had taken Elizabeth the Third?

“I have somespare mechanical parts in my car,” Saeyoung announced after some silence.

Jumin, caught up inhis frustration, snapped. “And what, pray tell, is your fuckingpoint?” he spat. Everyone in the room stopped to look at him with wideeyes at his choice of language.

“I… I mean Ican grab them and make some sort of… Ghost communicating device,”Saeyoung offered.

“But what makesyou think it is a ghost? Do ghosts even exist? If so, is it even remotelyPOSSIBLE to talk to them?” with each question, Jumin steps closer toSaeyoung until he’s towering over him, poking a finger into his chest. “Istill think you’re responsible for this,” he growled as Saeyoung gentlypushed on his shoulders to get him out of his face.

“Jumin, I want tofind Elly,” he stuttered once he saw Jumin getting ready to correct him,“I-I mean Elizabeth, just as much as you. Look, I don’t know what the hellthat.. thing, was. I’ve never seen anything like that in person, only movies.But right now maybe.. we should treat it as paranormal? What other choice do wehave?” Jumin knew he was right. He may be.. upset, and it may seemillogical, but now he was ready to believe any crazy theory the younger man mayhave if it meant getting Elizabeth safely back into his arms.

Three glasses of wineand a silent room later, Saeyoung had returned and built a few differentmake-shift machines to talk to this ‘ghost’. It had been an hour, an HOUR, withno response. No voices. No sounds. Absolutely nothing, and it only frustratedJumin more.

“This was acomplete waste of time!” he yelled, getting ready to toss all ofSaeyoung’s equipment onto the floor when he stopped in his tracks. Everyoneturned their attention to a door behind him that seemed to be opening slowly,though no one had entered the penthouse that day, sans those currently sittingat the table. Despite how slow it opened, it seems to throw itself shut,leaving a loud echo throughout the entirety of the penthouse. Jumin slowly satback down in his chair, staring in disbelief at the door. His heart started topound loudly in his chest- he could hear it in his ears. The fear drowned outthe sound of Yoosung’s cries and Saeyoung’s loud ‘I told you so’s. What ifsomething paranormal truly took Elizabeth? What would it want? What could hegive it to get her back?

Jaehee stood up tocatch everyone’s attention. Jumin knew he could count on his assistant to calmthe room and be logical.

“As we have allseen there… is probably something paranormal at work here.”

Maybe he was wrongabout the logical part.

With a heavy sigh, hestands up and brings the attention back to him. Once everyone looks over to him,he takes a few breaths to calm his own breathing before addressing the others.

“Obviously,there’s something at work here. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, wejust.. need to find it. So, let’s take this matter into our own hands, and setoff on a sort of… oh, what do you call them…” he snapped his fingersonce the light bulb flicked on in his head, “Mission. We’ll all go on amission to find out what’s behind this- and find Elizabeth.”

He and Saeyoung,though he was still suspicious he was behind it, sat down and came up with aplan. They would split off into teams. Jumin and Saeyoung would make a team,Jihyun and Yoosung, and Zen and Jaehee. Jumin wanted to make sure each team hada logical perspective on the matter, and he wouldn’t let Saeyoung out of hissight. Each pair got their own separate part of the penthouse to explore; Juminand Saeyoung chose the portion of the home where the most activity has beenhappening.

Jumin explained allthat had been happening in vivid detail for Saeyoung- the footsteps, the doorsopening and closing, the fact that items have been moved even in the slightest.The more he spoke about it, the more he started to lose his grip on anythingthat seemed believable.

Suddenly, the powercut out. He could hear a faint screech from across the home, indicatingYoosung’s fear before hearing Zen yell back to calm down. It was odd that itcut out so suddenly with no storm in sight. Not only had it turned off, but thebackup power seemed to be off as well. They had to continue their search in thedark, at least their path can be illuminated by the moonlight outside.

“Jumin, do youhear that? It sounds like.. footsteps?” Saeyoung whispered, stopping inhis tracks. Jumin strained his ears to hear it as well. It was so soft andfaint, but definitely there. Could it possibly have been one of the others? Thedoor opening and slamming shut in front of the two of them pointed to no.

They ran to the doorand threw it open, looking around to see nothing in there, while a door acrossthe hall behind them did the same thing. This continued down the entire hall,back and forth, doors opening and slamming shut randomly and very rapidly.Jumin felt like he was in some ridiculous cartoon show, running around likethey were. Finally, all of the doors seemed to shut and stay that way, so thetwo of them could stop and take a breath.

“Saeyoung. Whatin the world had just happened. How did all of my doors do that? This is all soridiculous…” Jumin was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Hecouldn’t wrap him head around any of this and at this point, he didn’t want totry. He just wanted Elizabeth back, and Saeyoung could sense that. He wanted tohelp find Elly as much as he could, he couldn’t stand to think that somethinghad happened to her! He guided Jumin into the closest room so he could let theolder man rest a little bit- he could use some time to process it all.

Jumin had just startedto calm a little bit before there suddenly was a book thrown off of a nearbyshelf onto the floor. Before long, there was another flying off the same shelf-then another. Book by book, the shelf emptied, catching the attention of Saeyoungas well. The redhead stepped a bit closer, but found himself having to dodgebooks as they’re thrown at his head.

The redhead hid behindthe taller man as the entire bookshelf emptied itself. They watched in distressas the now empty shelf rocked back in forth- they practically jumped out oftheir skins when the chair behind them also started to move around. Theysprinted from the room, as everything started to shake out of control.

“Saeyoung! Whatare you doing! How are you moving all of my furniture!?” Jumin yelled overthe sound of various items clattering around, watching as Saeyoung’s faceturned from afraid to angry.

“How many timesdo I have to tell you that I’m not the one doing this!” he cried, pushinghis friend backwards into the other room. “Why can’t you just accept thatthere’s something going on here?!” They found themselves in another room,as the door slammed shut behind them. Saeyoung let up on his anger to examinethe door. “It’s uh… it’s locked,” his sentence progressivelygetting quieter due to his concern. “Jumin? Your doors don’t happen touh… lock.. sometimes when they shut, right?”

“No, of coursethey don’t. I wouldn’t subject myself to such a situation- accidentally lockingmyself in a room? Ridiculous. Why?” he inquired, walking up behindSaeyoung and reaching for the doorknob to jiggle it himself, “….It..it’s locked.”

“That’s what Iwas saying. Did you just ignoreme?” he asked. Jumin had, in fact, completely ignored him.

A loud bang againstthe wall of windows caused them to whip around suddenly. There was nothing outthere but buildings across the way and the moon sitting steadily in the sky. Theirview was suddenly obstructed by a black mass as a deep growl was let out intothe room simultaneously. In the blink of an eye, Saeyoung has his arms wrappedaround Jumin’s neck, jumping into his arms, and letting out a girlish shriek.

As fast as Saeyoungwas in his arms, Jumin dropped him to the floor with a loud thunk.

A long, black shapeseemed to snake around the both of their ankles, knocking Jumin to the floornext to Saeyoung- both of them started to thrash and grip the floor trying toresist whatever was dragging them towards the mass.

“Oh my god, we’regonna die! We’re gonna die! And I’m gonna die here with you!” Saeyoungcried hysterically. Jumin growled before swinging his arm in an attempt tosmack Saeyoung for being stupid at a time like this- but he lost his grip andfound himself rapidly getting closer to the mass; he threw his arm out andgrabbed hold of the nearest heavy object. He was scared out of his mind, and quitefrankly was at his breaking point. All of his anger, confusion, emotions in general, just snapped.

“Just what thehell are you?! What do you want? Give me back Elizabeth! I’ll do whatever youwant!” he cried out, looking for something around him that could free himfrom this… things grip. His eyesdarted around while his mind went blank, filling with Saeyoung’s cries andsomber statements.

“Saeyoung! Willyou calm down and help me think! We need to free ourselves. Aren’t you a secretagent? What is your problem!”

“I deal with badpeople, not crazy ass ghosts, dude!”

If Jumin was free tosmack him upside the head, he would’ve.

“Just help mefind something! Anything! To get us out of this!” Jumin looked over tofind a tool sticking out of Saeyoung’s pocket. “There! That.. thing! Inyour pocket! Use that!”

Saeyoung raised hiseyebrow, giving Jumin a completely sarcastic expression full of judgment,“You mean my screwdriver?”

“Is now reallythe time to judge my lack of knowledge on tools? Just use it!” he snapped,watching as Saeyoung struggled to keep his grip on the floor while shoving thetip of the screwdriver between his ankle and this… thing. He shimmied andpried his ankle free before rolling towards Jumin to free him as well. Theblack mass came closer, towering over the two of them- instinctively they threwtheir arms up in defense, getting ready to protect themselves to the best oftheir abilities. Jumin’s eyes widened suddenly- the black mass started to take ahuman-like shape. Was it a person this whole time, and they just weren’t aware?He pulled his phone out and fumbled until he was able to turn on the flashlightand point it at this figure.

The room was silent asthe now illuminated figure had eyes as wide dinner plates and as bright blue ascould be and hair almost as white as Elizabeth’s. Jumin had never seen this…edgy looking person in his life, but Saeyoung seemed extremely uncomfortable.His attention was drawn to the puffy white tail popping out of the arm of thispersons jacket. Elizabeth jumped out of the jacket and pranced toward Jumin,completely nonchalant- almost as if she hadn’t been gone all night with astranger. She was purring, letting out a soft meow every now and then,otherwise the room was silent. The mystery man broke his staring contest withSaeyoung to reach back down to pat Elizabeth on the head before backing uptowards the windows.

“A-ah!Wait-!” Saeyoung called, suddenly there was a gust of wind with enoughforce to make the two men shield their eyes. Once it subsided, there was adevice sitting where the mysterious man once was. The redhead scrambled to gethis hands on it, examining it. It was small, but helped to explain what hadbeen going on. He checked the doors to find little attachments that could openand close them with a push of a button. The weird fog? Projections with a smallfog machine.

Jumin stood now,holding Elizabeth close to his heart and stroking her fur gently while he triedto process the events of this night. Saeyoung explained how everything seemedto have worked but he seemed to be extremely shaken up. Jumin respected that hedidn’t wish to talk about it, but it seemed as if he had seen an actual ghost.

Jumins eyes furrowedtogether as he looked over as Saeyoung. This caught Saeyoung’s attention as helooked back at him, silently quizzing him.

“Saeyoung… howdid those books fly off the shelf and my furniture move?”

Saeyoung and Juminpractically turned to stone simultaneously, mechanically looking back to theroom that previously had everything moving.

The door creaked open.