#so maybe that’s just how I grieve? it doesn’t hit for a while?

[oasisofgalaxies]

Gonna be honest here, my dreams have been hyper realistic as of late. When I wake up I can tell that yea a tornado actively targeting me would never happen in real life, but at the time it feels really real. The only way I can tell the difference in a dream is by looking at a clock, clocks are never right in my dreams. They’re erratic, display things like 9:60, 13:40, or spin wildly if it’s analog.

And I think the scariest part of getting the news that Techno passed was the fifteen minutes I spent staring at my clock, begging it to be wrong.

[phas3d]

Celebrity Crush|| Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: suggestive jokes (all)

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you're either friends or enemies and they see you freaking out over your celebrity, making them jealous. they search them up only to find out that the celebrity looks almost exactly like them

alternative :: your celebrity crush looks nothing like them

DRACO (enemies)

Your group just watched the newest movie that came out

Ever since then, you couldn’t stop gushing about how hot the villain was

Although the villain was an awful person, you still went on rants about how fine he is

Your friends kept laughing at how out of pocket your jokes were

“I can fix him I swear, just give me a chance” you grieved as if someone died

"I'm gonna get on all fours and start hitting my chest like a gorilla if he keeps looking this fine" you said with passion, not scared of the whole school hearing you

Draco, despite not wanting to say it, was extremely jealous as he gripped his fork extra hard as he heard you

He was a dick, why didn’t you like him? Maybe he wasn’t hot enough? He’s always been slightly insecure about his appearance

The second lunch ended, he ran to the bathroom and secretly looked up the actor

But as he looked at him… he realized he wasn’t too far off from the actor

Their faces were almost completely different but, they both had short bright blonde hair, cold blue eyes, always wore green, and had similar body types

From seeing that, he smirked to himself and got an ego boost

He goes to sleep with a fat ass grin on his face

He won’t directly say the actor looks like him, but he’ll know it deep down

TOM (friends)

Although Tom could stand being around you, he wished he could mute you out

You two were studying together in his room

Or… he was studying while you kept replaying the same edit of some random celebrity

“He could take my eggs and eat it like skittles”

Tom has literally killed and tortured people but he still widened his eyes slightly at your comment

He felt a small bit of jealousy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared of losing his only friend or because he liked you

(It’s because he likes you but he’s not that emotionally aware)

Tom has always been nosy, so he tilted slightly to see your phone

That’s when he saw a man with pale skin, brown eyes, and wavy brown hair

But beside those basic attributes, he also had the same nose as him along with a resting bitch face

He doesn’t show it, but on the inside he felt much calmer

It gave him a small sense of hope that maybe one day, he could actually be seen as attractive by someone

No one has ever confessed or even liked Tom romantically throughout his whole life due to his insane hobbies

He sleeps a little bit better with the thought that maybe someone could like him

And he really hopes it’s you :)

MATTHEO (enemies) (I made this so long on accident... whoops)

You two clash constantly due to Mattheo’s class clown behavior and your goody-two-shoes attitude

He was always cracking mean jokes and bullying your friend group since you were kinda nerdy

You despised him and have beaten his ass multiple times (with magic) but he still doesn’t learn his lesson

But that's mainly because he thinks it's hot when you beat his ass and yell at him

Once again, he was walking towards your group to pick on you guys once more, especially you

But that’s when he heard you freak out over some random character

At first he thought it was just some lame anime character, that's how you usually are

But when you start showing your friends the photo-card in the back of your phone, he realizes it’s a real person

Instantly, he's pissed and jealous of a stupid piece of paper

He stalks you until you repeat the celebrities' name so he can google him and ruin his career

But once he looks up the idol, he sees that he also has dark curly hair with deep brown eyes

He actually researches and tries to learn about the idol more so he can take note on what you like

That's when he learns that the idol is known as a funny and protective person, just like him

He giggles to himself and decides to be insanely cocky

He prints out a photo of himself in the same pose as the idol, rounds the corners, and even puts his own signature on the back

The next day, he hands it to you and is smirking to himself

But... surprisingly... you didn't know it wasn't the idol????

You smiled widely and freak out, you thank him and quickly put it in the back of your phone case

From that, he smiles insanely widely. Not only at how cute you were from freaking out, but by also knowing he's on the back of your phone without you even knowing

THEODORE (friends)

He's always known you were a fangirl but it was normally for weird things

You've had a few celebrity crushes over the years, but it's never been this extreme before

"GOD I WANNA LIVE IN HIS TOILET!!!" You shouted as you stared at a photo of the celebrity

Theo never understood how people got so attached but he was curious

How hot was this guy for you to like him THIS much? and why was he so jealous?

Theo has always been confident in his looks since he pulls bitches left and right

But, for some reason, he's suddenly strongly craving your validation

He asks you to show him the celebrity, only to see an almost exact clone of himself

Light fluffy brown hair, green eyes that were the same shape as his, thick brows, and a strong jaw

Theo smiles lightly and shakes his head, you perceived it as him making fun of your crush

You hide your phone from him and proceed to watch a pile of edits of this man on loop

Although he didn't get the hype of being a fangirl, he supported this one

He researches the celebrity during his free time and tries to become more like him slightly

Of course, he doesn't change anything drastically

But he might get the same shirt or shoes as him

LORENZO (rivals?) (can you tell he's my favorite?)

You and Lorenzo were constantly at the top of your charms class within the entire school

Both of you have constantly gone head to head with each other just to compete for first place, only to tie for it together

There was no hatred or extreme feelings, just a fun rivalry that was oddly flirtatious at times

While you were in the library with a few friends studying, you suddenly start slamming your fist on the desk

Lorenzo was often in the library in order to check out new books to read in order to beat you

He looked over, worried that something bad happened

But all he saw was you on the floor, as if you melted, with your phone held high showcasing a man

He was curious as to how you got to the floor so fast despite banging on the table only 2 seconds ago, but he didn't care

Many people in the school shipped you and Lorenzo, but you both always denied it in order to not make it awkward

But, Lorenzo has liked you for ages. Despite that fact that he's a fuckboy, he would give up everything just to kiss you

"I would save his nail clippings and make a necklace out of it" You said in a harsh whisper that made all your friends hold back a laugh

Lorenzo was shocked, he's never seen you be so vulgar

He felt slightly hurt, not only by the fact that you were freaking out over some celebrity but also because he's never seen you act like this with him

"The things I would do for this man is un-ex-plain-a-ble" You aggressively whispered as you slammed your fist on the desk again

The librarian came around and told your whole group to shut up, which made Lorenzo happy

He decided to do his usual routine, he walked up to you and flicked you on the head as a joking gesture

You wince and hold your forehead, that's when he looks at your phone and sees the name of the celebrity

He repeats the name over and over and over and OVER in his head until he gets to his dorm and instantly searches him up on his phone

That's when he sees how similar he is to the celebrity

At first, he was doubting it since he didn't want to be cocky

But he told Theo and Theo instantly agreed, saying the celebrity looks just like him

Sharp jawline and cheekbones, fair skin, soft light brown hair, brown eyes, and even the same body build

He smiled to himself, feeling a bit of self love for himself from seeing how similar he is to your favorite celebrity

He's always been slightly insecure of his body build due to most of the guys in Hogwarts being buff as shit while Lorenzo was slightly more lean

But seeing the celebrity be called the heart-throb of the year made him really happy

After he knows all of this, he's much more confident around you and even finds subtle ways to bring up how he knows your type

Uses this as evidence against you to make you blush during petty arguments

[hannie-dul-set]

CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!” 

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort  lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?” 

“how should i know? i’m not them?” 

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?” 

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!” 

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze. 

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?” 

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet. 

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

© hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[obsessive-valentine]

Yandere!vampire x GN!Reader (HC’s)

Growing tired of a lonesome life he sets eyes on you but you can’t ever imagine yourself growing to love such a monster, he isn’t to worried believes you will come around at some point, he’s fine with waiting for a couple of centuries. For now he will just hang around and admire his first and only love; Possible Stockholm syndrome?

No one, not even you, will ever know why you were taken from your house in a beautiful but sleepy European town during dusk; but people came up with theory’s. Most agreed upon was you had been taken by the monster who’d been terrorising the village people for years now, and there was nothing they could do about it. So the case was closed, your loss mourned, then life went on thinking you were dead amongst the other random victims of the beast.

But to him you were anything but random or a victim for him to slaughter, only he knows ‘why you’. No one made it to the manor house, he resided in, alive not even him being dead himself; no one until you.

He’d kidnapped you fairly fuss-free, the only consequence was the nasty bump on the back of your head rendering you unconscious but manageable. He laid you in silks and vintage furs on a capacious bed with gold a painted frame and placed ice on your head in an attempt to soothe the ache in your skull.

You were scared into submission by the creature for the first few days - you could have mistaken it for the devil himself with red eyes that bored into your soul and sharp threatening teeth. He responded in short sentences, usually stern and held a disinterested expression that made his eyes look more menacing than he truly was. It was confusing to decipher what he wanted from you, he didn’t seem to want blood but neither to happy about your unwilling company.

“I wanted you, so I took you. Lets not complicate it”

You’d come to learn that he wasn’t unhappy with you at all that was just the sort of face he has, being isolated for uncountable years meant his emotional awareness and expressions had grown rusty to say the least. You’d learn he just liked to be in the same room as you, he didn’t toy with you or worse, he came to sit in the corner of your bed room one in a while and read or write while you busied yourself with one of the many things he gifted you (found laying around in a draw unused for many years) or slept.

In fact he let you get away with a lot like how you’d try everything from retaliating verbally or physically but he’d only respond with a scowl of disapproval or a strong grip around your wrist briefly to remind you just who he was. He knows all about the grieving process having been through it and seen people go through it over and over, so he’d let you grieve over your lost life but doesn’t appreciate when you get really rowdy; bringing you back to earth with tough-love.

...

At some point during the first year of being kidnapped you’d given into harsh-reality, noticing there was no chance of escape as he hears your every foot step, and that even if you did there would be nowhere to go. Seeing you become more obedient encouraged him to soften a bit more, to meet you in the middle, and you let him grow closer after noticing his intentions couldn’t be that bad since he had yet to hurt you or bite you.

There are still arguments, nights where it would all become to much for you and you’d blow up in a emotional rage, demanding you go home or ‘what his intentions are’ and why did it have to be you specifically. So he’d let you hit and shout until you grow tired and your throat sore, wordlessly he’d pull you into his chest where you’d be forced to stay for the next hour. Doesn’t really take anything to heart during these arguments, he knows -at most- a centuries time you will be happy and love him maybe as half as much as he loves you.

Other nights his frustrations get the best of him and he shouts back, demanding ‘you get used to it’ that your friends and family stopped looking for you long ago and he’s all you have now etc. You’d storm away to your bed and he’d sit frustrated in his chair for a while before quietly entering your room and joining you in your bed to hold you and whisper apology’s, making sure you fall into a peaceful sleep before he leaves.

Forced bonding through board and card games!

Of course he sleeps in a coffin, a luxurious one in the room next door to yours, and he wants nothing more than for you to sleep in there with him but wouldn’t bring it up until your inevitable turning where he make you a vampire just like him. You didn’t think he would let you die and leave him to wallow in heart break for the rest of eternity did you?

This man has had so much time on his hands that he’s messed around with most every hobby, most recently (almost a century) he’s taking a liking to the violin. Sometimes he plays while you sleep and no longer around to entertain him (downstairs, as far from your room to not bother you) and sometimes the muted melody wakes you up for a moment or weasels it’s way into the dream you are in. It comforts you a bit, chasing away the eerie silence followed by creaks and scratching of the old manor house that would make sleep harder to come by and even harder to keep.

[arcadiabaytornado]

Chloe Price is such an agonizingly realistic portrayal of grief. 

Her grief isn't beautiful or poetic. It isn't a single tear running down her cheek as she thinks back on the past with a smile. It isn't a quiet pain she bears alone to not "burden" her loved ones. It's not a dull ache that's easy to forget. It's hateful and raw. It's agonizing and seemingly never-ending. It's loud and off-putting. It's grief. A word for when you still have so much love for someone that you can no longer give it to.

That lingering love makes you irrational. Sure, it's not fair for Chloe to blame Joyce or William for his death. William didn't know. He didn't choose to leave her that day, and Joyce didn't know either. She didn't make the decision to take a father from his daughter. Yet, maybe it's easier to blame them, because if it's their fault, then there's a reason. It means his death wasn't just a senseless act by a universe that seems out to get her.

However, that's what his death was. It was a senseless accident. We don't know what happened, but it's never implied the truck driver did it on purpose...it just happened and left Chloe so angry. She doesn't know who to blame but knows she wants to place it somewhere. We see that in this scene. At first, she blames William, then she blames Joyce, then says she has to blame them, or it's her fault, but it's not.  

More Undercut

Then we have Max, an agonizingly realistic portrayal of someone who doesn't know how to handle their friend's grief. Max grieved William too. However, she could move on from his death, while Chloe stayed in that moment, leaving Max not knowing what to say to bring her back to the present. Because what can she say? Nothing she says will make it better. Nothing she says will bring him back. Yet, she is clear-headed enough to know that William and Joyce don't hold the blame for his death. However, Chloe isn't ready to face that yet, so Max’s words just make her more upset. 

And that’s not the beautifully poetic thing to do. According to how grief is often portrayed, she was supposed to smile and go “Well jolly gee Max. You sure are right. I’m deeply apologetic for allowing my grief to effect me outside of one scene.” But she doesn’t do that. Because, as I said, her grief is angry and raw...and...real. It doesn’t just go away because Max is uncomfortable and trying poorly to defuse. 

I think about the way Chloe’s grief is portrayed everyday. It’s maybe of the most hard hitting deceptions of grief I’ve ever seen, and I’m so glad she’s a character I found when I was navigating my own grieving journey.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

It burns, doesn't it? [Pt.22]

genre: mafia!au, angst

warnings: mature, mafia activity, illegal business activity, non-explicit sexual/sensual content, toxic relationships, mentions of drugs, smoking, m*rder, language, and suggestive language, an attempt at a slow burn. If this content could potentially trigger you, please proceed with caution or do not proceed♥️

pairing: jungkook x reader x (yoongi)

authors note: It has been a long time, but I'm back☺︎ will come back to edit this later ! Please see my master list for previous parts <3

word count: 6k+

summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the heartbreak, betrayal and lies, you’ve emerged with a purpose—you’re apart of a family now. They won’t let you lay down and die—no matter how much you want to

━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━ 

He was ripped from his sleep by the corrections officer who hated him the most. Couldn’t stand that attitude, that body full of ink and a grimace forever plastered on his boyish face.

“You have a meeting with your lawyer, get presentable,”

A few months ago, he would have shot back a snarky remark or maybe even stayed in bed. That rebellion simmered out not long ago, there’s not much fight left in him now. When he was let out, given a roommate, and left to socialize amongst the other inmates—he got into a bad fight. He took more damage than the other guy.

He found out that a notorious arms dealer was shot and killed. Word on the street is, it’s Jeon Jungkook’s fault.

Jungkook went into shock, numb. He got hit in the head so hard that he went unconscious. He would learn to be grateful for that state of unconsciousness. It was either that or erupting in a hysterical fit.

Now, sometimes he cries in his cell at night and sleeps all day. He never ate the provided meals before, but now, he at least picks at it. It’s evident in his just slightly hollowed cheeks, he’s lost some weight, 

He simply nods at the grumpy officer and drags himself up and out. This is not a reality he ever prepared himself to experience, he took his family for granted. Namjoon was there, he would always be there, that’s what he thought. He did not want to grieve here, not in this hell—maybe it’s what he deserves.

The officers take him to shower alone while the other inmates are still locked down, he’s become a sort of target. For his safety, this is what has to be done. He gets dressed in the same dingy outfit and they take him to the room.

Junghyun shortly after.

“Jungkook, are you okay? You look,” He scans him over, “not good—like shit to be honest.” Jungkook only glances up briefly.

“They told me you were in an altercation and got beat up pretty bad,” He takes a seat, eyes scanning him over, “Are you okay?

“I’m fine,” He mumbles.

“Alright,” He sighs, “Mr. Choi will be in soon, he thinks you have a good chance of getting out.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls him by his affection title for the first time in years, eyes trained on the table, “Don’t do this.”

“I’m going to help you, whether you think you deserve it or not, you’re my brother,”

The silence pangs, and Jungkook doesn’t even look up.

“Look,” He rests a hand on Jungkook’s bruised knuckles, “I just want to get you out of here, okay? And maybe we can find Kim Y/n-“

“Sorry I’m a bit late, had a few documents to submit,” The lawyer walks in with a nice suit and slicked back hair, “it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon,”

“Likewise,” Jungkook replies in a dull tone.

“First, let me ask you a few questions,” The lawyer takes a seat, snatching a few papers out of his briefcase before setting it aside, “I know you have mafia affiliation but to what extent?”

“What do you mean?”

“Could we say that you’re associated or an active member? And if so, how long?”

“I-…I don’t want to do this,” He stands to his feet, cuffed hands pushing him away from the table.

“Jungkook,” Junghyun gives the lawyer an apologetic expression as he goes to whisper something in Jungkook’s ear, “what is going on with you? He has to know these things so he can build your case.”

“I don’t care about the fucking case,” He grits his teeth, “whatever deal you’re trying to make with me, it’s gonna screw me over in the end, and you both know it,”

“Excuse me, but Jeon has a call,” one of the administrative officials peeks in.

“From who?” 

Both Jeon’s say in unison.

“He says he’s an uncle of yours.”

They look at one another, both their father was an only child and their mother had one sister. They don’t have an uncle.

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━≾ 

3 months ago

His hands fell from your face, leaving your skin bare to the cool air, “I need to get back out there.”

He steps away from you, unlocking the bathroom stall door. You place your hand over his larger hand before he can fully open the door.

“You probably shouldn’t be seen with me like this…” You trail off, not wanting to further explain. You look at him with weary eyes, and the idea of someone seeing you two walk out of the bathroom together crosses your mind. “I’ll stay-“

“I don’t care who sees us,” He corrects you without hesitation, “let’s go.”

He walks out anyway, leading you out of the cramped stall. The states you get churn your insides. You force yourself to ignore the curious stares from the women inside. No one pays you any mind once you leave the restroom. If anything, they act like they don’t you.

When the hostess notices Yoongi approach with you by his side, she opens the doors with much haste.

“We got the last bid, I went 5 over but it was worth it,” Taehyung is the first to speak and he glances at you. Yoongi nods, ensuring he sits beside you despite your stiff body language.

The night went on and you remained quiet.

Feelings of regret crept their way into your mind. You proclaimed your love to a man before, who said he would die for you, the man you once lived for. But you’re not bound to him anymore, it’s hard to get used to. He abandoned you, he made you feel like a liar—he was insecure, and so were you.

The drive back home was painfully awkward. You rode back with Yoongi and the consequences of your actions started to eat you alive. He won’t even look at you, it just embarrasses you further, forcing you to perseverate. 

"About earlier, in the bathroom," You begin, not prepared to say much more than that.

“It was just a kiss,” He speaks low, to keep this conversation from the driver, "don't look too deep into it."

“Ok…” You gaze out of the window, the engine and the occasional passing of streetlights distract you enough. ≿ ━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━≿

The house had fallen into a hush over the past few months, and security heightened significantly. More members were assigned as round-the-clock guards. They patrolled around with vigilant eyes, their fingers never far from the cold metal of their guns. 

Yet, amid this fortress-like home, you found peace. The house staff have embraced you as if you were a long-lost member of the family. They treat you too well, providing clean linens like a hotel, and tasty meals, making you feel like royalty.

Ayeong has especially made this transition easy, she's the reason you're able to get up every morning and find purpose in something. 

When you arrived at the estate, you grappled with a sense of loneliness and haunting thoughts. It was Ayeong's compassionate and motherly nature that extended a gentle hand to pull out of that dark place. 

With ample free time at your disposal, you found yourself shadowing her through the day, mainly in the kitchen. 

She listened to you, not out of pity, but because she wanted to know you. In the delicate ebb and flow of conversation, she provided insights into the complex dynamics of the household. Yet, the lessons extended far beyond cooking; they touched on life, love, and, most intriguingly, the enigmatic figure who led it all, Yoongi.

You’ve unintentionally given much of the kitchen staff a break, making yourself her designated sous chef. It’s been nostalgic to get scolded when you over-season the dish she left you alone with, to get praised when your spontaneous flavor combinations taste good. She’s warm with you, taking you in like a granddaughter.

“Oh wow, this is so good,” Boyoung, her 10-year-old grandson who accompanies her every now and then smiles brightly, “how can you cook so well? This is better than nanas!”

“Boyoung, don’t say that!” You laugh, a bit flustered, “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“But it’s true! It’s better-“

"Ok ok, thank you," You shake your head, "Go wash up and I’ll fix you a bowl before you go.”

“Ok!” He runs to the bathroom with haste.

Just as he runs out, Ayoung comes back into the kitchen. “Between you and I, that little boy is going to be spoiled rotten,”

“He won’t be a kid forever,” You stir the pot gently, “it’s ready by the way,”

“Perfect, I was just about to let Yoongi know,” She notices how you always look a bit disinterested at the mention of him, “maybe I can get him to eat outside of that cave of his for once, I swear he’s a spitting image of his father, bad habits and all,”

“Yeah,” You agree awkwardly, “well, I’ll go wash up and I’ll be back,”

“Could you let him know? Tell him he needs to come out, I’m not bringing it this time,” She shakes her head, adamant, “he needs to come up for air,” 

You grit your teeth, “You want me to tell him?”

Ayeong has tried to get you two alone for the last few weeks. She seems to want to see him loosen up a bit, the stress he’s under tends to pull him away from what’s good for him she says. But he hasn’t said more than a simple greeting. You haven’t pursued a conversation either, he’s been too busy. Uninterested in anything that could even be close to a distraction, that includes you.

“If you could, I need to make sure Boyoung washes up this time,” She walks off to the washroom, leaving you with that daunting task.

The leather office chair knows Yoongi better than anyone these days. He’s been buried deep in the contracts, numbers, and logistical crap. Hoseok normally does this but he’s out on a short leave, a family emergency. So he’s doing it all, taking it all on his shoulders—it hasn’t been easy.

A knock on the door takes him from his thoughts. 

“Come in,” he expects to see Ayeong so he only glances up briefly, but he does a double take. There you stand, stepping through the door, and he softens at the side of you.

“Hi,” 

“Hi,” He repeats, “is everything ok?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, dinner is ready,” 

He's still in a dress shirt but the tie is long gone, as well as a few buttons unclasped. You forget that despite the illegal discrepancies of this job, it's still a business, they have to look the part.

He fixates on you for a moment, this is the first time in a while that he’s just looked at you. That dress, one he hasn't seen in ages. Of all the things you could wear, he would have never expected to see this.

He's brought back to his childhood for a blink. When his father was happy to have a son, not just a successor.

His mother would put on this dress sometimes, his father said it brought out her eyes. This dress—he remembered her in it when they were happy. At this moment in time, he remembers what it was like to feel real happiness. 

"What?" You question, bringing attention to his gawking. 

"Thank you," He breathes out, eyes dipping down into his papers again, "can you ask her to bring-"

"You look tired," You cut him off, "You should come out and eat with us, it'll be nice, plus Ayeong said she won’t bring you anything if you don’t agree."

He cocks his head to the side. "Us?" 

"Her grandson, she had to watch him after school," You grin to yourself, "I'm surprised you didn't hear him running down the hall,”

"Right, right she told me about that," He sighs, glancing at the piles of paper that he'd rather not spend any more time with, "I'll join you, just let me close this up, I'll be out shortly."

"Alright," Your eyes brightened a bit and he could swear you were hiding excitement, "I'll let her know."

When you enter the kitchen, Ayeong notices your attempts at hiding a smile. “What did he say?”

"He'll be out shortly," You head to the sink to clean up the remaining few dishes, and that's when you notice her seating arrangements. 

"Ayeong, you only set the table for two?“

"I completely forgot! I have to take Boyoung to his mom, she won't be able to pick him up tonight,"

She planned this shit. You bite your inner cheek, keeping your irritated remark to yourself. "But I promised Boyoung he could have some of what I cooked, he's gonna be upset-"

"Already packed him a bowl," She definitely planned this, "I can't believe he agreed to come out, do you know how many times I asked him to come out of that stuffy office? He's as stubborn as a mule that one," She removes her apron, hanging with the others near the pantry, "I never thought it was possible—he must have a soft spot for you.”

Before you refute any of her nonsense, she's out the door with Boyoung waving goodbye with that adorable smile. 

"Sorry, it took me a minute," Yoongi appears around the corner with rolled-up sleeves, "everything smells great." He takes a look around, surprised to only see you, and only two seats set up at the dining table.

"Ayeong just took Boyoung home, she didn't tell me they weren't joining…” You try to hide your disappointment with a nonchalant tone, "if you want to take your plate I'll just eat in my room-"

"I don’t mind having dinner with you, I could honestly use the break from work,"

"Oh, ok…” You nod with a timid smile, "You can sit, I'll fix the plates,”

"You don't have to do that,"

"It’s alright," You persist, "I don’t mind,”

He does as he’s told and sits at the head of the table, patiently waiting for you.

“Here you go,” You sit his plate down after yours, “sir,” You joke, trying to lighten the mood, “is it weird that all of the staff call you that?” 

“No,” He looked amused, not expecting your playfulness, “it’s protocol, except for the elders of course,”

Quickly, you say your grace and take your first bite. It’s safe to say this is the best meal you’ve ever made. 

“Wow, this is good,” Yoongi takes another bite with furrowed brows, “what did she put in this?”

“I cooked,” You stammer a bit, “do you like it?”

“Did you?” He gives you a look of approval. “It’s good, better than Ayeong’s if I’m being honest, but don’t tell her I said that,” He makes a playfully serious expression, causing a genuine laugh to spill from your lips

“Thank you,” He can see the blush forming on your cheeks, you're grateful he doesn't bring attention to it, “I’ve been helping her for a few weeks, it’s been nice getting to know her,”

“She told me, you’ve been a nice change for her and the other staff,” He sets his fork down, “they’re happy to finally have a normal person to dote over,”

“Normal?”

“Oh, I guess I’m getting back to my normal self then,” You’re proud to say that out loud, there was a point where you never thought you’d say that.

“Your dress,” He comments on the last thing you thought he’d be interested in, “is it new?"

“Oh,” You subconsciously touch the fabric, “Ayeong told me I could pick something from one of the closets, was that ok?” 

“Of course, I only ask because- ” He stares at the necklace on your chest for a moment, his heart jolts, “it looks nice on you.”

“Thank you…” You blush, not having expected the compliment.

When Yoongi speaks, you’ve learned that his words are his true feelings. He doesn’t care to sugarcoat much and he doesn’t talk a lot, but what he does say is meaningful.

Dinner continued in comfortable silence. Surface conversation would come and go in between bites, keeping any awkwardness from settling. Soon, the plates were empty and before you could get up to take the dishes, one of the staff came by to take them during conversation. You furrow your brows, wanting to clean up after yourself.

‘Ana, I’ll get it-‘

“Miss, it’s my job,” She smiles, eyes pleasing for you to let this go, it looks good for her to be insisting in front of the boss anyway. You give in, not wanting to make her feel obsolete in front of Yoongi.

“The food was great and you were,” He pauses for a moment, “you were good company.” 

“You too,” You grin from ear to ear, “we’ll have to do this again,” 

“Definitely,” He offers a real smile before disappearing back to his cave.

As you make your way back to your bedroom, you’re met with the youngest of the housekeepers, Yaerim, Ayeong’s niece. She’s taking the rest of your dirty clothes from the bathroom basket. A task you’ve warned her to stop insisting on; it’s the least you can do.

“Oh, hi Y/n, I’ll be out of your way! I was just getting your clothes washed up.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” You exasperate, “if you show me how to use the washer, I can do it Yaerim,”

“With all due respect, the boss asked me to take care of you, so that’s what I’ll do,” She offers a kind smile, “I wouldn’t want to upset him, I’m fairly new so this is my first time meeting him…”

“He asked you to do this?…” 

She nods.

“You should have told me sooner, you don’t need to do this for me, I can do a lot for myself actually, I don’t have anything better to do.”

“To be honest,” She sighs, leaning against the wall, “there aren’t many people my age working here so…It’s nice to be around you- I’m sorry, is that weird to say?”

“Not at all, I like being around you too,” You smile, “I don’t have any girlfriends, I haven’t for a while,”

“Well, we can be friends then!” She exclaims, “I’m 19 and this is my first job, auntie was nice to offer this to me, I don’t have experience doing much else,”

“I used to clean with my aunt before she went back to nursing, I enjoyed it,” You take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, “I eventually found something I was passionate about and went to college.”

“Did you graduate?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Her expression turns grim. “Oh, was it a financial thing or was it just not for you?”

“Neither, it’s a long story,”

“I’m not too busy, are you?” She makes a valid point.

That night was the first time you had ever told anyone about your life. There were moments where she looked stunned, others she had to push her tears down. 

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾ 

The news ran rampant on the streets. Notorious arms dealer, Kim Namjoon, was shot and killed in an ambush. Jeon Jungkook was there, he was supposed to die, not their leader. There was a price on Jungkook’s head, it was something everyone knew but no one spoke of. Every day, tensions grew between Jungkook and the group. It was unsaid but painfully obvious, that he was the boss’s favorite even with his wavering loyalties to the job. 

Namjoon’s memorial is today. 

The family came and you could see where he got his looks from, as well as his demeanor. They all mingle, but Yoongi spends a particularly long time with Namjoon’s mother. 

“How could this happen?” She presses a hand to his shoulder and Yoongi purses his lips, looking down solemnly. “I feared this would happen one day,“ She began to weep and you stayed far from the group after that.

After a while, you find yourself outside to get some fresh air, the woman beside you must have had the same idea.

“How did you know him?” She pulls out a cigarette, not bothering to light it yet.

“It’s a little complicated.”

“Hm, he was my brother…” She glances at you, the cigarette lit In between her fingers. “I knew this might happen one day, but I could have never prepared for it—it doesn’t seem real.”

“Can you ever prepare for losing someone? I’ve lost a few people in my life and I’ve never felt prepared…not even a little bit.”

“Comforting.” She scoffs.

“Y/N,”

You look back and see Taehyung lingering in the corridor and beckoning you to come to him. With a heavy sigh, you walk over, excusing yourself politely. 

“What?” 

“You’ve met Geongmin,” He stares, as the woman from another life blows puffs of smoke in the air, he never knew her to be a smoker. “I need to talk to her, privately,”

You glance back at her and just as soon as you open your mouth to say something, he’s making his way over to her. That’s a relationship you never knew of. Namjoon’s sister and Taehyung, you could see that—perhaps.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,”

“He’s my brother,” She turns to him with a scowl on her face, she wears red lipstick and her cheeks are just as red from the cold, “I didn’t hate him.”

“We haven’t talked in a long time,” He leans up against the patio railing, “it’s been too long, I think,”

“The last time we talked, you were off your meds,” She drops the cigarette in the ashtray, “Namjoon can’t make excuses for you, now both of our favorite people are gone.”

“I’ve missed you,” He confesses, staring off into nowhere in particular, “even more now.”

“Don’t,” She frowns, “I just happen to be the only one left…it’s only convenient to miss me.”

He’s in the car, sitting across from Akane.

“It has to be some elaborate joke…” 

“The shot wasn’t at close range, from what I heard, it could have been a misfire,” Yoongi concludes, “either way…he’s gone, I was with him when he left us.”

“How are you handling that? You’ve known him since you were kids…”

“In this world,” Yoongi sighs against the phone, “it’s just another work day.”

“Who’s taking over the arms business?”

“It can run itself with a few signatures from me, I’m thinking about Taehyung, he knows the business well, he was an understudy,”

“Hm, well, I heard about Jeon Jungkook, what do you plan to do about him?” 

“Nothing.” He takes out a cigarette from the case in the drink holder.

“Cold,”

“He got himself in that situation, he can get himself out. He caused a lot of problems, for innocent people,”

“I didn’t know you cared that much about innocent people,” She scoots close to the door, resting her hand on the handle before showing him an amused smile, “didn’t think you had a heart for people like that.”

She exits the car and he signals the driver to head out.

He glances at the driver who nods, preparing to pull out of the parking space. That’s when Yoongi glances out of the window and sees you approaching the moving vehicle. You were supposed to come with him earlier, you’re late of course.

“Stop the car,” Yoongi scoots from one side of the back seat to the other, to make space for you. He quickly opens the door, letting you slide in.

“Hey, I didn’t see you walk out,” You let out an uneasy breath, "sorry,"

Yoongi puts out the cigarette and you glance at him, knowing if it was for you.

“You’re fine,” He doesn’t say anything after that, he instead takes out a folder and starts reading. You glance over at it, reading a few names.

“We’ll be there within the hour, sir,” 

Yoongi seems a bit solemn, that’s a usual sight to see lately. Soon, you arrive at the destination and you still have no clue what you’re doing here. When he neglects to invite you into where he’s going, you simply watch him leave the vehicle and disappear inside.

“Miss,” He looks at you through the rearview mirror, “don’t be worried, the Min’s have to make difficult decisions and they can be rather quiet, they always have, no need to worry.”

You offer him a smile. He wouldn’t know that your feelings for Yoongi are mixed, that you worry about him in a way you probably shouldn't. In no time at all, you see him walking out with a woman by his side. Yoongi abruptly opens the car door.

“What is this?” You frown.

“I’m dropping you off,” He glances at the woman he brought out, “Sal will pick you up later.”

“Who is she?” You eye the woman.

“Heize, she’s doing me a favor,” upon hearing that, you ease out of the vehicle, “she’ll take care of you,” He presses a reassuring hand to your back, guiding you towards the woman. 

“Let’s go ahead inside, the tests are going to take a while.” 

Tests?

“What do you do exactly?”

“I work in identity,” She walks you inside a small office space, “did he not tell you why you were here?”

“He doesn’t tell me much,” You shrug, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all, “I also didn’t ask.”

“We’re making a new identity, as a precautionary measure.”

You didn’t expect to be giving blood, urine, and saliva samples today. After waiting a considerable amount of time, Heize dismisses the girl she had drawn your blood and leads you back to her office. She’s a quiet person. She doesn’t say much, doesn’t look too long, doesn’t move too fast—she sort of a book-nerd type, unsuspecting.

“How long have you known Yoongi?” 

“Years.”

She neglects to look at you, too busy typing away at her computer. 

“How long have you been doing this?”

“A long time.”

You nod to yourself. “Has it ever…Failed? Has someone’s identity been revealed even after all of this?

She pauses, finally looking up at you. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Shouldn’t I know what the risks are? It is my life,”

“There are risks to everything, it’s no different than being issued a passport, what are the chances of getting your name misprinted?”

“Not high… but not zero.”

“We'll, can’t argue with that,” She shrugs.

You had no clue, but Yoongi had this all planned out. 

Your way out, your final departure from this life. 

You’ve adjusted to some sense of normalcy at his family estate. You read, you cook, clean, and take care of little things around the house. It feels natural, normal. Life here is never too fast or too slow.

It felt reassuring to have someone around, to have stability—and consistency. After a hard day, his comfort was normally found in a glass of whiskey or the next readily available alcohol. Cigarettes, once a reliable source of solace, had dwindled into a boring pastime. After the memorial, he lit one for the first time in what seemed like ages, extinguishing it swiftly as you joined him in the car. 

Now, he prays to heaven for grace, knowing that this new coping mechanism would ignite Jin's wrath if ever unveiled. Grace or no grace, deep in his heart, he knows Jin would have his head if he knew the truth.

You step into the office after a gentle knock, knowing your entrance would be granted either way.

“Hi,” You wave, seeing that his tie is still tight around his neck, and cuff links are still secured and shiny.

“Hey,” He offers a half-hearted greeting, “did you have dinner yet?”

“No, is that the only time you want to spend with me?” You ask a genuine question, your expression timid as you avoid direct eye contact.

“Course not,” He gently closes his laptop, reaching up to pull off his slowly suffocating tie, “but it is a bit of a routine now, isn’t it?” His gaze dips down, seeing that you haven’t changed out of your formal dress. 

“You should get changed, I should be done by then.”

“I think I’ll wait a bit,” You purse your lips, l don’t get to dress up very often,” You rub the hem between your fingers, “I like to enjoy it while it lasts, don’t you?”

When he neglects to give a verbal response, you step closer to his desk, leaning up against the side closest to him. He shakes his head, an endeared expression on his face, now fiddling with buttons on his collar shirt.

“Well, don’t you?” You tilt your head.

“Hm,” He leans back with a deep sigh, “never really thought about it, I suppose it’s nice,”

The longer he’s gotten to know you, the less he desires to be alone.

His life has been everything nonstop, all the time. No time to wade in his thoughts, and daydream about a better life. He used to chastise himself for even thinking about a life without the mafia. He’s never lived a peaceful life, free from strife and trauma, so much fucking trauma. If he were honest, even a taste of it used to scare him. If he were to indulge in even a glimmer of a normal life, he would desire it. He’d kill for it. But he can’t enjoy a life like that. He doesn’t deserve peace, how could he? He’s stolen it from so many people. And here he is, trying to return it to one of his many victims.

There’s another knock at the door. 

“Supper is ready,” Ayeong says from outside the door.

“Ayeong, can you come in?” He beckons her inside, “I need to speak to you for a moment,” 

You quickly get the message to give them some privacy and you slip out, closing the door behind you.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow,” He gets up to stretch his legs and roll his sleeves to his elbows, “take her out for a bit, she can get clothes, anything she needs.”

“Of course,” Her face lights up, “she’d like that, but Yoongi in all honesty, this doesn’t seem like it needed to be a private conversation.”

“It’s not necessary that she know I’m having you do this,”

“I’m sorry,” She regrets this as soon as it leaves her mouth, “but why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Fine,” She huffs, not hiding her disappointment, "I’ll take her out in the morning.”

“Stay out until after 9, and I only need essential staff here tomorrow.”

"Very well," She turns to leave but stops to look at him. He's already staring down at one of his contracts. "…You know, it wouldn't hurt to tell her how you feel, a woman deserves at least that-"

"Don't," His tone is stern but mindful to be respectful, "don't start that."

"Yoongi, I can’t want better for you?" She stares, disappointed in his avoidant antics. "All I’m saying is, think about letting your guard down and enjoying someone for once, while you’re still young, your father missed out on that-“

"Is that why you put her in my mother's dress? Do you want me to reminisce on the past, give her up to delusions like my father did to my mother?” He quips.

“Your mother loved your father and he changed,” She defends, “she happened to choose that dress, I had nothing to do with that-“

“And the necklace?”

“Necklace?” She pauses dumbfounded. “Yoongi, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, I’m not trying to trick you into anything if that’s what you think-”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not arguing about this…” He presses his temples, “I know you mean well but she's not going to be here forever, as soon as I can get her out she's gone, and she’s not coming back. Don't get attached, I only say this for your sake,"

She grits her teeth, holding her tongue for what she really wants to say. The last thing she needs is an angry Yoongi. "I care about her, I just want the best for her, after all she’s been through.”

"You don’t think I want that too?” He steps over to the window, looking over at the pristine garden and pool that he rarely touches, “I know what she’s been through, better than anyone...”

“I know you probably don’t believe it, but you are capable of experiencing love-“

“You’re dismissed,” He ends the conversation with a sharp command, already having given her tremendous leeway in this conversation.

You sit at the dining room table, moving your Brussels sprouts around, sipping your wine. This routine of having dinner with him almost every night, it's something you look forward to. 

You knew the subtle looks, the lingering gaze when the other wasn't looking, the laughs—it was a calumniation to something.

"Ayeong," You catch her trying to dash through the kitchen, "is he coming? I've been waiting, my food is cold..."

"Oh," She forced a smile, "I'm sorry dear, I’m not sure, he didn’t say," She leaves the kitchen with a swiftness.

You drop your fork on the plate—suddenly you've lost your appetite.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾ 

You waited until most of the staff finished their shifts when the guards left the inside of the home and only patrolled the grounds. That’s when you snuck out of your room to confront him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Yoongi's gaze lingered on you when you emerged from the doorway of the dimly lit room. It’s drafty, the window cracked slightly and you see Yoongi there, sitting with not a care in the world.

You continue. “You didn’t come to dinner, so I thought maybe I did something wrong…”

"I didn't come to dinner because I got caught up," Yoongi explained, his voice low and measured. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The silence that followed was full of tension, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. A sense of displacement gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, not wanting to show it.

"You could have at least said something," you retorted, crossing your arms in defense. "Ayeong had to tell me."

“I apologize…Now can you come here,” He beckons you over, gesturing to the couch, “we should talk.” 

You do as he says, walking over to sit a small distance beside him. "About?"

“How are you liking it here?” He throws out his question. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, I like living here," 

“Good, I’m glad.” 

On the coffee table beside him, you see cigarettes and a lighter. Impulsively, you reach across him to grab the lighter, and the cigarette box and slip one out. You stare at it for a few seconds, twisting it between your fingers, with the lighter in one hand. Albeit awkwardly, you ignite the flame and hold the white stick to it. The flame danced as you lit the cigarette, it caught fire, and his eyes cut to you, finally curious.

You bring it to your lips, heart racing and nose scrunching at the smell alone. You open your mouth and inhale, very quickly coughing like a first-time rebellious teenager.

“Don’t finish that,” He takes the cigarette from your hands as you struggle to catch your breath. “I avoid doing this shit around you, now you want to try it?” He takes a drag like a pro, blowing the smoke away from you. "It’s a bad habit."

“I know,” You look at him with a playful smile, reaching for it again. “you used to do it all the time,"

“What did I just fucking say?” He smothers it in the ashtray, his displeasure evident, “It’s not funny, don't touch that shit,”

“Why?” You counter, “I’m no different than anyone else here, so can smoke if I want to,”

“Not with me,” He scoffs, almost amused, “there are other ways to relieve your stress,”

“Yeah I’m sure,” You mumble, eyes tracing over his grumpy features. “But I don’t think you would know of any,”

Without a word, he makes his way over to the bar cart. There’s a decanter sitting on the top and one thick crystal cup. He reaches inside a drawer and pulls out another glass. It’s hard to tell what the drink is but when he brings both glasses, his nearly full over to the couch, you question his method of stress relief. 

He hands you the cup and goes to walk back and forth near the window, casually sipping his.

“Seriously?” He nods, predictably. You bring it to your lips.

“You don’t have to drink it,” He sighs, taking a quick sip. He walks back to sit back beside you, black strands cascading around his face like silk curtains when you look over.

"You think alcohol is better than a cigarette?" You questioned, a wry smile playing on your lips.

“It’s the lesser of the two evils, to me.” He picks his glass up, nursing it his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.

As you started to rise, ready to escape the uncertain atmosphere, Yoongi's hand closed around your wrist, holding you in place. "We're not done talking," He stares up at you, hand not losing its grip.

Reluctantly, you take your seat back beside him. “What is this about?”

“I want you to know,” He stands to his feet, strolling over to the window, “I’m traditional, that’s how things are supposed to be done in the mafia. Whatever the fuck Namjoon and your brother have done, it’s not like that, even I got a little slack.”

"Okay,” You walk over stand beside him at the window, glass in hand, “why are you telling me this?”

“The family you choose comes before anyone else,” He empties the contents in his glass in one chug, then takes yours, “I defended your brother for a long time because of that code, he defiled it and took advantage of me,” He continues, “now I consider you family, in your brother's place.”

“Oh…what does that mean exactly?

“I’ll make sure this organization supports you, I’ll provide protection for you as long as you live," The weight of his words linger in the air.

"Whatever you decide to do with your life after this," he added, "even if it's against your brother, your relatives, anyone—you’re protected." the finality of his statement sends a chill down your spine.

“Even if I’m not with the group, you would still be there for me?…”

“Absolutely,” He downs the rest of your drink and sets it on the window sill, “without question.”

"You’ll be there?” You scoot to stand between him and the window, wanting further clarification.

“Yes,” He gazes down at you and his palm finds its way to your lower back, “I’ll be there for you, in a heartbeat.”

Your eyes dip down to his lips before landing back on his eyes. But only a few seconds, you expression shifts, and the sparkle in your eyes dims. “Jungkook used to talk like that..."

Yoongi's demeanor shifts subtly, a shadow passing over his eyes.

"Did he?" He knows very well that Jungkook spoke like that.

“Yeah,” You step away from him, “I still think he has those feelings for me..." You look down in thought, "I find myself thinking about it, what he would say to me if he wasn't in prison,”

"You're not bound to him anymore, you have to start living like that,” He says gently, “he doesn’t control you, not anymore.”

"Honestly, I miss him sometimes...” You admit, your voice tinged with regret. “That's crazy, isn't it?"

"It’s not crazy Y/n, he was a major part of your life," He sighs, accepting that whatever heat that might have been kindled is long gone. "it's not easy to forget about someone like him,”

“Yeah, it’s not…”

“But it’ll get easier,”

When you stare at him with a look of relief and naivety, he begins to sober himself. You’re not just anyone looking for attention, not a one-night stand he’ll never have to see again —you’re much more than that. You have a pre-existing weight in his life now. Anything that happens gets carried into the future of the relationship.

It would be nice to have this, wonderful even.

[marie-swriting]

Everything Will Be Okay | Let's Go Home - Emily Prentiss [2/2]

Masterlist

Part one

Part one - two (french version)

Summary : You've been grieving Emily's death for months when Hotch and JJ tells you what truly happen the day of her death.

Warnings : spoiler 7x01, angst, grief, mention of Doyle, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.2k

Song inspiration : Where's My Love by SYML

Everyday is the same thing. Waking up, pain, work, pain.

The piercing sound of your alarm clock screams in your ears. Grumbling lightly, you open your eyes with difficulty. Everytime you feel the cold sheets next to you, you wonder where Emily is before reality hits you. Emily is not, and will never be, by your side anymore. You sigh then look at the ceiling as if you were expecting for the energy to appear. Every morning, the second you wake up, you’re more tired than the day before. Since Emily’s death, the idea of a relaxing sleep has become an utopia. Emily never leaves your mind. Every second is a painful reminder you’ll never see her again.

You turn on your side, Emily’s picture on your nightstand is smiling at you while you struggle to take a deep breath. Everyone keeps saying it becomes easier with time, yet it seems to be the contrary.

After several long minutes, you finally manage to get out of bed. You do your morning routine whilst ignoring the pain in your chest. When you’re drinking your coffee in the kitchen, your eyes are set on the chair in front of you, the chair where Emily used to sit.

After her death, you didn’t have the courage to sell your shared apartment, even if the memories this place holds were like a stab in your chest. Besides, you couldn’t feel at home in the apartment you had taken after your break up so coming back to your old home seemed to be the best choice.

You drink every sip of your coffee slowly, your mind lost in your thoughts. As soon as you realise it’s time to go, you put your mug in the sink, grab your bag and go to work.

At work, you are totally isolated from your colleagues. At first, they left you on your own, judging that was what you needed. After a while, they tried to include you more in the conversations, to invite you for a drink but you always declined. You do what you have to do then you go home where Emily isn’t waiting for you even if you only dream of one thing, for her to come back home to you. Every day, you hold back your tears as best as you can without succeeding. 

Everyday is the same thing. Waking up, pain, work, pain.

As for Emily, the routine is the same. Every day, she does everything to survive whilst looking for clues to arrest Doyle. She is losing herself in her quest and in loneliness. She doesn’t know if one day there’ll be an end to it, she hopes there is one. Emily also thinks back to her old life; she often thinks back about the team; she often thinks back about you. She wonders if you understood the reason behind her sudden breakup now that you know Doyle was after her; she wonders if you know she bled just the same as you did the second she said those hurtful words. No matter how many times she tells herself she did the right thing by breaking your heart, she hates herself for the pain she caused you. She doesn’t dare to imagine your reaction when you learned about her “death”.

However, Emily holds on to the hopes of coming back to you. She wants to believe it. She wants to believe she will leave all of this behind her and she will be in your arms again.

Emily keeps a low profile, staying hidden from everyone, even those she loves, even the one she considers as the woman of her life. Every day, her heart bleeds while reminiscing about everything Doyle stole from her.

Everyday is the same thing. Waking up, pain, work, pain.

A September night, you leave work, exhausted. You’re slowly trying to make efforts to have a normal life back so you’re a bit more social though, doing this tires you out even more. Emily is still on your mind however you don’t want the pain of her loss to dictate your life anymore. You have to move on. It’s not healthy to isolate yourself that much and you know it.

Whilst you’re in your car on your way to your apartment, your phone rings and JJ’s number appears. You frown as soon as you see her name, she hasn’t called you in months. 

At first, she tried to stay in touch with you but you pushed away everyone so much that she eventually stopped, judging you’d come back to her when you’d be ready. Penelope acted differently, even if you ignored her, she kept sending you messages to make you smile - and it worked sometimes. Rossi was also there for you, helping you with your grief as much as he can. Him and Penelope are part of the few ones who stuck by your side. You never had the courage to fully push them away.

After some seconds of hesitation, you end up answering to JJ - a horrible sensation of déjà vu in your mind except this time, she can’t give you news worse than Emily’s death.

“Hey, JJ, everything alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I just wanted to know if you could come to the BAU.”

“Why?” you question, anxiety taking over your body.

“We have to talk to you.”

“About what? Nothing serious, I hope?”

“No, everything is fine, don’t worry.” JJ assures you with a calm voice. “So, can you come?”

“Yes, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

You quickly turn around and drive to the BAU whilst you search for the reason why JJ absolutely wanted to see you.

Arriving at the BAU, JJ greets you and invites you to follow her in Hotch’s office. You’re completely confused. Hotch has his normal grave face but so does JJ and that worries you. No matter what they’re about to say, it’s probably more serious than what JJ suggested. You’re sitting in front of Hotch, JJ standing next to him, then he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/N, we asked you to come because we have something important to tell you. As you know, Emily went after Doyle when he targeted her. In order to arrest him, we had to make a complicated decision.”

“What decision?”

“After her fight with Doyle, Emily was actually stabilised at the hospital.”

“What do you mean?” you question, confused.

“Emily didn’t die.” Hotch informs you, taking you aback. “She survived and-”

“Stop,” you drily interrupt, standing up. “It’s not true. It cannot be true. She is dead. You said it yourself, she never made it off the table.” you retort to JJ.

“We had to fake her death in order to protect her.”

“You’re lying.” you scream, pacing at the opposite of the room. “Emily died six months ago. We buried her. I literally saw her coffin getting under the ground just like you did. You can’t tell me that since the beginning, she was alive.”

Your breath quickens as you try to make sense of what they just told you. You can’t understand how all of this is possible. You’re betrayed, hurt, sad, angry but also relieved. Emily might be alive.

“Y/N, we understand it might be hard to come to terms with this information-” JJ tries to say.

“No! Learning she was the target of a terrorist was hard to come to terms with, what you’re telling me, it’s just madness! If it’s true, why didn’t you tell me before?” you ask with a shaky voice.

“Her death had to be believable.” Hotch answers, stoic. “Emily was in Paris with new identities we knew nothing about for her safety.”

“Doyle had to think she was dead for her own protection.” JJ adds with a calm but firm voice. “Everything we did was to protect her and the people she loves, including you.”

“And you waited six months to tell me?” you reply, angry. “You let me cry her death for six months for nothing? Everyone knew except me?” you mutter with teary eyes and pointing at yourself. 

“No, JJ and I were the only ones who knew. The team only learned about it recently. If you want to be mad at someone, it has to be us two, not the others.”

“Why tell me now then? Emily is probably still in danger because of Doyle.” you question, confused.

“No, not anymore. Doyle is dead, Emily came back to DC.”

After hearing Hotch’s last sentence, every negative emotion disappears from your body, relief and impatience being the only ones sticking by you. If it’s true, if Emily is indeed alive, you have to see her now.

“She came back?” you repeat, shocked. “Where is she? Is she here? I need to see her right now!” you order, getting closer to Hotch and JJ.

“I’m going to get her.” Hotch informs before leaving his office. 

“Y/N, we’re really sorry for lying to you.” JJ admits, getting closer to you. “Trust me when I say we didn’t like to lie to all of you. It was hard, especially for Emily. She had to be alone for several months. It would have been too dangerous for her to communicate with us.”

As soon as JJ finishes talking, the door opens on Hotch and Emily appears behind him. You put your hands on your mouth when you see Emily. You can’t believe she’s in front of you. You tell yourself you must be dreaming. You've dreamt too many times about this moment so many times, maybe your distress is now making you have hallucinations?

“We’ll leave you alone.” Hotch says before leaving and JJ follows him.

“Hey, Y/N.”

As soon as you hear Emily’s voice for the first time since the split up, you realise it’s really her. Emily is really in front of you, alive. Tears stream down your face and in a second, you’re in her arms. You hug her while you’re sobbing. Emily holds you tighter, tears on her face as well. She strokes your back to calm you whilst you enjoy the feeling of her body against yours, while you smell her scent for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. Emily is really here and nothing else matters.

You stay in each other’s arms for a moment then, you break the embrace though you keep your hands on her arms. You’re afraid she might disappear if you let go of her.

“I thought you were dead. I was sure I lost you.” you sob, looking at her face.

“I know and I’m sorry. I caused you so much pain and I’m sorry. I wish things had gone differently.” Emily apologises, putting her hand on your cheek and wiping some tears.

“You’re here now, that's all that matters. You’re here and you’re not going anywhere, right?”

“Never again.” she confirms, smiling. “I will always stay here. I’m sorry for the way I pushed you away. I was just so scared Doyle would go after you. I don’t know what I would have done if he had attacked you.”

“You don’t have to explain anything. I know why you did it, it’s okay.” you affirm, stroking her hair.

“Still, I’m sorry for everything I told you. I shouldn’t have said I didn’t love you because it’s not true, I loved you and I still do.”

At her last sentence, you feel your heart exploding because of all the joy you're feeling. In the span of a few minutes, you’ve lived everything you thought was lost forever. You thought you’d never see Emily again, never hear a voice again, never touch her again, she’d never say ‘I love you’ again.

“I still love you, too.” you smile, a new tear running down your cheek. “Despite everything that happened, I couldn’t forget you.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Emily begins, nervous, “ but I’m dying to kiss you right now, can I-”

Before she can finish her question, you press your lips against hers. Your kiss is full of passion and love. You need each other right now. You move your lips against hers while Emily gets you closer to her. Nothing else exists around you. It’s only you, Emily and your lips moving together. You both know you should deal with everything you’ve been through first before acting as if everything was normal but you can’t help it. You missed Emily just like she missed you and your love never stopped existing. You can always deal with everything later, right now, you just want Emily close to you. When you need air, you stop kissing, a loving smile on both of your faces.

“I thought I’d never kiss you again.” you say softly.

“I was afraid of this, too. We have a lot of kisses to catch up on.” Emily affirms with a grin.

“Oh, I agree, so we should keep doing it. Let’s go home and we’ll be able to resume peacefully.”

You look into each other’s eyes, a big smile on your lips. Emily takes your hand in hers and at this touch, all the pain you had this past six months is now behind you.

Of course, you know all this story will leave a mark both for Emily and you. The path to find a normal life again won’t be easy but after everything you’ve been through, you can do it. Together, you can, no matter the obstacles.

“You’re right, let’s go home.”

Part one

Masterlist

Tag-list : @emilxprentiss

[dragonrider9905]

Hunter is not a villain for his caution….What did you take away from Ep 16?

A lot of people have been vilifying Hunter these past few episodes and while we love characters, they have flaws. I’m not saying he doesn’t. I can make fun of Hunter and will definitely call out his flaws but people are putting a lot on his shoulders. Do you not think he’s doing that as well?

“When will it be enough” when he’s talking to Echo. This statement seems cold but maybe he wasn’t talking snotty like us fans are doing so that’s why we took it that way? Fans are at each other’s throats. I saw disagreements but both loved and respected each other. Maybe he wasn’t saying “when will you have saved enough people” but rather “Echo when will you be at peace with all you’ve done?” Because Hunter knows this isn’t a winning fight. He knows the guilt Echo carries. Notice how it’s not a problem for Rex? He asked Rex once why fight and Rex has a totally different aura about it. He just knows it’s what he’s supposed to do. Echo is passionate and angsty. He’s driven by another force. Echo thinks about his time on Skako Minor a lot, as shown in S2 by his comments. How much has he shared with Hunter? Hunter still looking out for him?

I already shared a post about Hunter’s cautions about Crosshair’s warning here.

“I don’t know if it’s worth it” we literally watched Tech fall to his possible demise. THIS IS WHAT HE WAS AFRAID OF. The man wasn’t saying Crosshair wasn’t worth it, but maybe this chance was a foolhardy one to take and wait it out till they had a better one. He knew how sketchy it would be and it’s his call. He wasn’t going to take it lightly because the brothers and sister who are all he has left in the galaxy might be taken. The man is literally paralyzed in fear. We’ve seen him running and not facing problems. It’s not good but it is his coping mechanism. He’s not being mean, he’s choking up and dying inside. And he doesn’t argue when everyone of their own free will wants to go because he does want his brother safe.

“We’ve decided to settle on Pabu” he wasn’t giving up on Crosshair folks. Do you think Echo would drop the hunt not just for Crosshair but because there is a base full of clone prisoners somewhere? They thought Hemlock was killed in the explosion so there’d be time. He was a prisoner now not a lab rat. Once Echo had news, he’d probably share it and they’d bust their brother out. In the meantime….they are grieving Tech! Hunter literally shut down! His face when he told Omega he didn’t make it?! His eyes? And Omega didn’t handle it well when Tech fell OR when she woke up, adding to the fact SHE almost died. Think about someone you lost/almost lost. I know my thinking got emotional and protective when I was in that situation with people I knew.

Hunter is going after Omega, and is seemingly more determined to find her than Crosshair because he has nothing left to lose. Find Omega and find Crosshair. Omega was Hunter’s weakness in a way. If she wasn’t with them, he might have been more along Echo’s line of thinking earlier. Now that she’s taken, that last scene? Hunter’s face, man? That guy is out for blood. It is the first spark of determination and not tiredness in a long time. He’s getting his muster back. The baddassery is about to get real because he’s freakin sick of his family getting torn from him. Hunter needed to be pushed this way for the sake of his character writing. He needed to come to a breaking point. He lost so much when he was desperately trying to hold it together. That’s why he was so cautious. He didn’t want to see his brother fall. He’ll dream of this and blame himself because he sent Tech. He won’t sleep well because he’ll blame himself for Omega getting caught because he chose to go back to Cid’s right after her Almost dying. Sitting by her bed? That was one worried dad. So you expect him to want to keep fighting after she was hitting him because Tech didn’t make it?

We as fans need to stop thinking the worst right away. We need to be kinder and more cordial. We don’t have to agree because that’s the fun of it, to debate friendly certain ideas but the intense hatred for fictional characters who have real human flaws (which is what makes the writing intriguing) needs to end. You don’t have to like him, but please be fair, that’s all I ask. Crosshair has done plenty but it’s forgiven and overlooked (I love the man too guys, but let’s be honest, he’s morally grey.) we’re all grieving. I love Tech and that really hurt to see. Whether or not he’s really gone, I don’t know. But we’re all grieving so I understand being hurt.

I just needed to let it out.

[quinntell]

Hi so uh little rant 

(I am absolutely terrible at grammar and such so if it’s fucked up don’t mind it please)

Ok so I’ve noticed how no one talks about how /fit/ is alone, like /no one/ really talks about it. I think the reason the characters and the viewers and even q!fit himself overlooks it is because q!fit has always been alone. Pac is used to company, and when mike his platonic soulmate and richarlyson his child went missing he wasn’t used to it. The comfort that he had known most his life was taken from him so suddenly. But with fit he has always been alone so there would be no reason for him to be hit so hard by all of this right? WRONG. my man was in a wasteland where the moment you got attached to something it was gone, and then he came to a place that’s wasn’t so hardcore and He was not only allowed but  ordered to take care of something, he was hesitant and a little annoyed at how he had to take care of some egg he was just supposed to complete his mission and finally have at least a little peace , but slowly he started to get attached to the little boy and eventually that kid became /his son/. But then his partner, the man he was supposed to team up with, the man who was supposed to be his partner in parenting their child left without even a goodbye or a real reason as to why he left so he had to tell his son and everyone on the damned island that he left to get cigarettes. Of course fit isn’t really all that bothered by it, I mean he’s used to being alone and he barely knew that guy. But still…maybe he should monitor his future friends. just to make sure they don’t dump their responsibility’s on him of course. But time goes by and he for the most part forgets his absent partner. 

Then his son loses his first life. 

And then it became Ramon before the mission. He would never say it fully out loud but he would give up the mission and just about everything for that kid, it was /his/ kid, dragon be damned and he wasn’t going to let this kid be alone. He wasn’t going to let his kid be alone. 

And then more time passes, everything is fairly quiet and normal, well as normal as quesadilla island can be, yes he don was kidnapped once but all it took to get him back was a weak dungeon it was nothing

Then he was told his son would leave and never come back. He was told he had only had 6 days left with Ramon from a fairly traumatizing video. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make those 6 days count. 

Then the 6 days pass and he accepts that he will be alone once again. And he goes through the day grieving but pushing on, moving forward and so on. Besides he doesn’t have time to dwell since there are new members here, most of them don’t seem like they will be that much of a problem, and there are two who seem to be fans of his work he did while at 2b2t one of them seems particularly nice

And guess what! His son is back, Ramon is back! He’s not alone! But now his son is cracked. He needs to be extra careful now especially with the so called ‘federation’ that claims the kids were returned safely 

More time passes, and his son is a fairly good engineer! All is (for the most part) well , he’s making friends with those two Brazilians (known as tazercraft) and they tired out to be quite the trouble makers, he doesn’t fully trust them but they are friends- real friends not just ones he has to be friends with in order to make his mission easier 

Ok I realize im ranting too much so I’ll sum it up

Fit is supposed to be used to being alone, but it slowly starts to get to him, he’s starting to not be used to being alone to the point he now has separation anxiety instantly, almost everyone he has genuinely cared for on this island has disappeared or been kidnapped at least once, and he can’t take it anymore, he’s trying his best to go back to not caring but he’s getting closer and closer to a particular Brazilian (pac) and he’s not sure what to do, he said he’d take baby steps but even those seem too fast, and now his son and everyone else’s is gone, and they have no clue where they are and only a bit of a clue if they are ok. 

But I’m just saying that without Ramon, if we don’t count pac fit is alone, him and phill are friends but he’s not close enough to tell him about his mission and the same goes to tubbo, especially tubbo actually, since the kid is a big trouble maker (be it on purpose or accident) and has his own suspicions on fit himself

Pac has the other favela members but fit has no one is what I’m trying to say 

[livinggeekchic]

I’ve been thinking a lot more about Harvey on my most recent reread of Purple Hyacinth. He is set up as this kind of bumbling but good-natured kid, whose death hits us hard—only for us to later find out that he was a spy for the Phantom Scythe all along. And we, like Lauren, feel betrayed.

But we are given clues that everything is not as it seems. To start, Bella tells Kieran that Harvey was eliminated because he wasn’t useful.

That got me thinking about this set of panels. March and Hermann are having a conversation about Lune. This is surely information that the leader would be interested in hearing about. Harvey is in the perfect position to listen in, walking by with a stack of papers. But instead, he hightails it out of there. If you zoom in, you can see the “spinning” of his feet, he’s booking it so fast out of there.

So while he was a spy, he either wasn’t a very good one, or he didn’t really want to be one. We also see Harvey mentioning that he has to do his best for his grandpa--is it possible that his grandfather needs money, and that's why he's doing it? This is just one possibility of many. Kieran says as much to Lauren, after she tells him that Harvey was a mole. Kieran knows there are many reasons someone might join the Phantom Scythe, but Lauren is still thinking in black and white--right and wrong. While it makes sense that Lauren feels betrayed, she's failing to grasp the nuance of the situation.

Nothing showcases this better than Harvey’s funeral. We see Harvey’s grandfather violently sobbing, obviously devastated. He says “you didn’t need to try so hard.” (Another indicator that Harvey was likely making choices for his grandfather’s benefit.)

And how does Lauren react? Her expression here doesn’t look like one of sympathy, or even pity. She looks shocked and almost affronted. She’s so consumed by her hatred of the Phantom Scythe, for what happened at Allendale, that she can’t even see Harvey as a person. She can stand by and watch his close family member grieve, and all she thinks is, “they don’t know what I know.” But regardless of what misdeeds Harvey committed, he was still loved. He still deserves to be mourned.

She calls him a traitor. She’s almost disgusted by the fact that everyone is mourning him. But was he really a traitor? How much information did he actually give the Scythe? He was "useless" after all. Even if he did help the Scythe stall the APD's investigations, we know he wasn't this inherently evil character. He was genuinely concerned for his coworkers' safety. Lauren tells us that he never lied or showed any signs of being part of the PS. She sees this as evidence that she was blind to the truth, but I think she's actually blind to the fact that not everyone in the PS is "the enemy." Their motivations can be complicated.

In S1, Lauren views Kieran similarly. He’s an assassin, and therefore, he is reprehensible. She can’t understand why it's so important to him that he kills only when ordered or when it's the only solution. She doesn't really attempt to unearth his reasoning for wanting to take down the leader, beyond asking about it just once. She is inflexible, and rigid in her thinking: good people don't work for the Phantom Scythe. But of course, we come to see that it's more complicated than that.

A lot happens in S2 that helps open her eyes to this, which I won’t go into now. But I will leave you with a quote from Kieran in episode 93: “all these years within this wretched organization have taught me…it’s not a monolith. Not everyone agrees nor is aware of what is truly going on.”

Perhaps Harvey truly didn’t know the half of it. Maybe he was given a chance to provide for his grandfather and took it. Maybe he was told that the Scythe was helping the poor, and he related to that struggle. Maybe he was told they would only use the info he gave them to protect themselves from the APD, and wouldn't ever go on the offense. Ultimately, we don’t know. But what I do know is that if Harvey was outed as a spy in S3, I think Lauren would try harder to understand.

[amailboxlemur]

Season 3 thoughts about mental health

So the mental health aspect of young royals has always been massive to me because my own brain doesn’t like to function particularly well at times. It’s also clearly what draws Edvin to wille and he portrays it so well. I want to get a few non wille things out of the way first though:

August eating disorder: touched on, but not dived into too deeply. Really interesting how he seems to think it’s completely normal (there’s something great about being hungry, calm the mind etc) but right away Simon is just like “nope, that’s not healthy��

The Queen: this year is really catching up with her. I can’t help but feel there’s something physical going on with her as well, whether it’s caused by stress or made worse by stress. Either way, I love the idea that truly no one is able to “handle” it the pressures of this position.

Ok now Wille:

I want to start with the fact he’s taking steps. He’s really trying. When Sara returns to school he does check in with Simon and does his best to support him. After the rock incident he calls the Royal court immediately to try and get Simon security. After the protest, he acknowledges that he and Simon and different but that he’s learning from Simon.

Right then is I think somewhere he had a big opportunity for growth. When Simon mentions charities he could care about, he mentions mental health or lgbtq+ rights. Both boys immediately focus on lgbtq+ but I think mental health is a better fit for wille at this point. He’s been going to therapy, and he seems at least vaguely aware that it’s anxiety that affects him. Falling in love with Simon is all well and good, but I never got the impression wille was overly concerned with his queer identity. (Neither has the show for that matter. There are queer characters but the main themes have always been class and mental health). But they have their little argument about lgbtq+ advocacy and never really circle back to the mental health thing, which is a shame. Wille ends up picking the path of least resistance and going with “sports and health”.

Wille has always had a temper. We’ve known that from the very first scene where he head butted someone in a club and kicked off this entire chain of events. But this season he really starts to break down with the fight with august. I can’t help but feel like the “pair” counselling isn’t the solution here. Like August deeply violated Wille and I genuinely think that being in therapy with someone abusive isn’t helpful. Being around August so much is actively making Wille’s mental health worse. Is he even still seeing Boris privately?

So that leads us to his meltdown at the end of episode 5, where we see a deeply traumatized Wille letting it all out. He’s been raised by his boss (and Kristina admits that). he’s grieving his brother while grappling with the fact Erik wasn’t perfect (and maybe wouldn’t even like him, have I MENTIONED how much that line BROKE me??). His privacy has been violated, he was outed to the world and put in a therapy situation where it was borderline made to seem like he was equally to blame in their “relationship”. Wille is NOT in a good space mentally and Simon is right to be afraid for and of him. He’s right to hit the pause button.

So where do we go from here? I’ve been an abdication truther and this season further confirms it. What Wille really needs is a break and some hardcore (solo) therapy.

[edsanon]

I don’t feel like drawing, so have some platonic Lumi and Alastor headcanons :

They met via Rosie. They had seen each other before, Lumi accidentally helping Alastor taking down on an Overlord, but they officially met via Rosie.

Lumi is terrible at social cues, but they are good at picking up patterns, which is how they can read people, Alastor was no match for that.

Alastor is thankful for that, since Lumi can pick up on people, and Alastor can use that to his advantage to strike deals.

Lumi died in 1917 at 18, while Alastor died in 1933 at 35(ish). They often joke that they could’ve met each other had they lived in the same country, and how they could’ve been around the same age had they died at the same time.

Lumi and Alastor don’t exactly show vulnerability, if at all, so for one of them to show vulnerability, the other will have to show that first. It’s truly a mess.

During the time where Alastor disappeared, Lumi genuinely thought that he had died. They grieved and continued on with their life- until they saw the commercial for the hotel and they recognized him.

Lumi has their little family down in hell : twin sister, younger brother, youngest sister and mother. They do not get along with their mother. Their younger sister and father are in heaven.

Alastor doesn’t really like the twin sister, can barely handle the younger brother. But the youngest sister ? Who is a cannibal ? He adores her ! He doesn’t like children, but Yu is an exception, he secretly spoils her to no end.

Speaking about baby Yu, she resides in cannibal town with Rosie, Lumi visits often.

Alastor believes in discipline that involves hitting children (it’s canon), but he knows better than to hit any of Lumi’s siblings.

Being friends with Lumi made of Alastor a cat person. He hates dogs already, so a friend who is a cat and purrs and smells like happiness and all the best things ever ? Count him in.

Husk dislikes Lumi for this very reason.

Speaking of Husk and Niffty, Lumi likes them, they don’t understand how Husk hates being a cat, they’re apex predators after all, and they like Niffty, and Niffty adores them so much.

Lumi showed her a katana they use when they train with their students, ever since then they became one of Niffty’s favorite person.

Alastor has witnessed how they train their students, they were a samurai after all and he was curious. Let’s just say that watching them gave him new torture ideas with how rough and hard that training looked (He quite felt bad for that one student who had to start over 500 swings because their body wasn’t correctly placed in Lumi’s standards.)

Lumi reads Alastor better than a lot of people, so they know that he loves and craves attention 24/7 among other things. So when the attention is striped away from him (like in episode 5 where Mimzy turned her attention to Lucifer) Lumi is here to give him some attention (“So you used to dance ? Maybe I should accompany you to one of your outings then, I’d like to see that for myself.”)

Which Alastor appreciates immensely.

Lumi has a set of rules they follow to stay on Alastor’s good side.

Alastor was very sour when he learned that Lumi had a partner when they were human. They are the one to always give them the attention he wants and needs, to always praise him in some way, who can understand him like nobody else, he doesn’t want their attention away from him.

In reality when the partner comes along eventually, Alastor has now 2 people hyping him up and giving him attention when he needs it.

And this is Lumi’s partner we’re talking about, when Alastor latches out and tries to make the partner jealous (“I’ve stayed with them for the last 80 years”) instead of being met with anger and jealousy, he is met with patience, gratefulness and understanding. (“I see. Thank you for taking care of them, I am glad they found a friend who cares for them the way you do.”)

Alastor taught Lumi how to cook, and cooks for them sometimes.

And Lumi taught Alastor French. He had a good start, but it could’ve been better.

Lumi speaks 9 languages, and they are native Japanese.

Alastor had to teach himself how to hold chopsticks, and Lumi had to teach themselves how to use a fork.

Whenever Alastor notices that Lumi isn’t doing great (aka they start to melt because when their emotions are too much they become magma and they start to melt), he takes them on a walk in the Bayou side of his room.

Alastor and Lumi fought Adam together, they got severely hurt together and left to lick their wounds together.

Lumi has tagged along on a few radio broadcasts of Alastor, it’s just them sitting next to him, listening and purring quietly.

Alastor loves the sound of their purrs, he wants Husk to make the same sound.

Lumi started to use pet names such as “honey” or “baby” after hanging around Alastor and Rosie as much as they do.

Alastor often calls them “Lumi dear”, and occasionally “Darling” (he found out that the nickname snaps them out when they are panicking or experiencing a flashback of some sort)

Lumi nicknames Alastor “A-kun”

[mckinlily]

I kinda really want a de-aged au where Jason “No More Dead Robins” Todd has to deal with all his brothers when they were first joining the Bat/Wayne family and has to try (and consistently fail) to keep them from becoming Robin. 

Like there’s some random magic user who casts a spell for [hand wave plot necessitated reason here] and Jason is just chillin doing his Red Hood thing, but when the spell starts to take affect, Bruce is off world on some League mission so Jason ends up having to handle it all on his own.

First to show up is Dick. Or rather, tiny, grieving, baby Dick. Jason’s first surprise is that baby!Dick isn’t the cheerful, happy, carefree kid Jason always assumed he had to be. No, tiny Dick is angry. He’s bitter and snappish and hell bent on finding—and killing—his parents’ murderer. At first Jason is selfishly pleased to find out Golden Boy wasn’t quite so golden after all and encourages getting vengeance, take that, Bruce! This only lasts like a day, though, because Jason realizes, feelings about the One Rule and his personal moral code aside, encouraging a nine year old to kill is seriously messed up. 

So Jason’s next step his to take Dick back to his second favorite safe house and tell him to stay put while he tracks down whatever/whoever did this to Nightwing and fix it. 

This plan hits a snag because guess what tiny, nine year old Dick does not do? Tiny Dick does not believe Jason when he says he’s his brother from the future. Tiny Dick doesn’t care if he is in the future. He’s still going to find his parents’ killer and end him. Some guy with a weird helmet isn’t going to stop him. Jason discovers this when he runs across tiny Dick leaping between buildings in Crime Alley while on patrol.

Jason drags him back to the safe house and locks all the doors and windows. He runs across tiny Dick again three blocks later. He returns Dick to the safe house. Dick is out again in less than an hour. How is this possible?! Jason is Bat and League trained, he knows how to secure a location, how can he not contain ONE (1) small circus child?!?!!

And yet. Dick keeps escaping. He has tentatively accepted that he isn’t in his time and his parents’ murderer isn’t around at this time for him to confront. But this has only led him to the conclusion that he needs to help Jason fix this so he can go back to him own time and get his revenge. No, Jason cannot stop him.

(Really. Jason can not stop him. Jason is starting to wonder if the creation of Robin was much less Batman taking on a child solider as his partner and much more a desperate attempt to keep eyes on an insane child escape artist.)

Then baby Tim shows up.

Baby Tim has noticed that Batman has not been around and that Jason seems to be acting in his stead. Baby Tim has concerns. Baby Tim’s solution to this is to confront Jason—the six foot two jacked man with guns as baby Tim helpfully (accusingly) points out—and demand to know his relationship with Batman. Jason is so flabbergasted, he spends twenty minutes splutter-shouting at Tim about self-preservation and acceptable risk and ends up bundling up the kid in blankets in the spare room and ordering him to take a nap. And then locks himself in his own room to scream to himself about eleven year olds who sneak into Crime Alley to confront crime lords with guns.

Jason also maybe tells (demands) baby Tim to never, ever become Robin when he wakes up (and goes straight for the coffee. Good to know some things never change). Tim seems a little baffled, eyes going wide at the suggestion that he could be Robin and oh, whoops, Jason just accidentally gave him ideas, didn’t he? Luckily, Tim listens and agrees to home.

(Or at least, so Jason believes.)

Meanwhile, Dick has gone off on his own again. He not going to wait on adults to get back to his own time. And Jason left his notes open on his computer anyway. Jason is only sort-maybe-totally panicking by the time he tracks own his older-turned-much-younger brother in the worst part of Gotham. How did a tiny child get so far on his own?!

Finally acknowledging that he won’t outclass his stupid golden older brother even when he’s nine years old, the ass, can’t he let Jason have this one thing?!, Jason talks Dick into sticking with him to solve the issue. Jason tells himself it’s because he can be persuasive and charming when he wants to be. He’s pretty sure it’s actually because tiny Dick doesn’t trust him to share relevant information if he isn’t right there with him. Whatever. At this point, if it keeps the tiny terror in his sight, he’ll take it.

Jason does insist on getting Dick decent gear if he’s going to follow Red Hood through the streets Gotham (How did Jason get to this point?! He can’t be becoming Bruce. He REFUSES. He blames this angry gremlin child—who just smiled at him and it was like seeing the sun for the first time after winter, and what the hell is wrong with him?!?). Jason figures they’ll drop by the Batcave and snag one of Damien’s first costumes. Jason finds out where the original Robin name came from. There are tears. Jason will not admit they weren’t just Dick’s

(Oh, is that was Nightwing threw such a fit when Jason first put on the Robin suit? Jason thinks he owes him an apology or two for the grudge he’s held over that. Also Bruce deserves a good punch to the face.)

Eventually the tears are temporarily on hold, but Dick refuses to wear any of Damien or even Tim’s old suits. Jason gives in and tries to get him to at least wear darker colors. Dick refuses. Jason tries to get him to wear pants. Dick still refuses. Jason doesn’t understand how he’s losing an argument with a nine year old, but he is. Badly.

(Somewhere, Bruce is laughing at him, Jason just knows it. He owes Batman so many punches.)

So now Red Hood is somewhat desperately tracking down the rogue spell caster with a brightly colored shadow that is alternating between impish laughter and moods so dark it worries Jason. He really needs to get his big brother back. He’s patting himself on the back for at least keeping Tim out of this…

When he finds out Tim’s version of “don’t become Robin” is to follow them around as a civilian with nothing but a camera. He hasn’t changed clothes since Jason last saw him and his questions about where he’s been are disturbingly evasive. Jason abruptly remembers that eleven year old Tim didn’t live at the Manor yet and with the status of Drake Manor now—Jason’s questions become more desperate. Tim’s answers become more worryingly evasive. 

Ok, so now Jason two reckless, de-aged baby brothers to keep track of. This time, it only take five instances of Tim climbing out a window (he swears baby Dick is giving him hints, the dick) for Jason to throw the kid into a bulletproof suit (at least this one agrees to pants) and dragging him along with them. 

By the time Damien arrives, (even more) bitty and murderous, Jason throws the towel in. Somehow Dickface transformed the murder gremlin into a semi-functional human being by making him Robin, so Jason shoves a suit at him, makes up some bullshit about “right of passage” and “earning a place next to Batman”, and lays down the rules of being Robin. Namely, no killing. Jason doesn’t know how he became the one enforcing the No Killing rule but 1) He really doesn’t want to deal with getting stabbed by the Demon Brat and 2) They’re…kids. And no, Jason isn’t changing his moral code. Some people need to die, and he stands by that. But… But he doesn’t want kids doing the killing. Taking a life is heavy, and he doesn’t want his brothers to have to carry that. Not now. 

…Maybe not even ever.

(Is that what Batman and Nightwing—? No. Nope. Shutting that down. Not examining that.)

 Good news is that Damien does follow the no kill rule, and there are not attempted murder attempts. Damnit, Dickface was right, baby-baby Damien does bleed a need for acceptance in the most stabby and murderous way possible. Underneath the snobbery and death glares, he is desperately trying to meet all Jason’s expectations. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still an incredibly difficult kid. 

And while Jason has the sense, or at least self-preservation instincts, not to try to keep this on in the house (by this point, he’s grudgingly moved to staying at the Manor and begged Alfred’s assistance and home-cooked food), Red Hood is still out in the field with three baby Robins. Damien is certainly most trained and best equipped of the three and, theoretically, in least amount a danger. But he also keeps diving into conflict, sometimes in fights that Jason hadn’t even intended to be involved with, out of some combination of pride and misguided belief that leaping into outnumbered fights will lead to a closer chance to meet his dad.

(And the reasoning behind that doesn’t make Jason sad. It doesn’t.)

Jason lasts maybe two days before he’s breaking out the emergency communication and calling Bruce to come home and manage his Robins. Jason’s message left on the Justice League servers are 90% swear words and death threats and he probably landed himself back on some sort of watch list again, but he needs to make sure Bruce drops the damn mission and comes home right now.

(Jason doesn’t know it and wouldn’t believe it if he did, but Bruce would come home if Jason asked for help with a paper cut. It’s his son and Jason. Coming to him. For help. For all his faults and mistakes with Jason, all Bruce ever wanted was to help his son.)

Bruce zetas home immediately, and Jason has the satisfaction of seeing Bruce isn’t actually all that more effective at keeping his actively insane brother out of the field either. Bruce does have experience with his sons at this age though and, though he can’t keep them from Robin-ing, is at least better at getting through to them in other ways at these ages than Jason. He, with the help Alfred (it’s mostly Alfred, tbh), manage to wrangle the tinies enough that Batman and Red Hood can make a break for it to take down the rogue magic user. 

(Bruce may have pulled in a LOT of League resources to find them. For the sake of his second son’s clearly-frazzled sanity.)

Once everyone is back to normal, Jason maybe nearly cries when adult!Dick immediately jumps in to mediate whatever argument/fight that Tim and Damien promptly starts up. He definitely embarrasses himself by hugging his older brother when he’s back to his cheerful, adult self. “We are never talking about this, Dickface. Never.”

Dick is too busy cooing over Jason being “such a good big brother!” to listen. Jason shoves him at the Demon Brat because he is DONE with being responsible for crazy preteens and Dick deserves it after the hell baby him put him through for the last week and change. Tim makes a beeline for the Batcomputer, already rambling about all the cases he dropped while he was inadvertently transformed into his younger self, clearly entering a hyper fixation fugue state and Jason will have yank him out of it in—

Wait. No. That’s Bruce’s problem now. Jason is not getting involved.

(Keep telling yourself that, says a voice in his head that sounds annoyingly like Dick. Jason kindly tells it to fuck off.)

Bruce is hovering in that “I want to talk to you about something but would also rather have all the bones violently ripped from my body than express that with words” way, and normally Jason would rather remove his molars with a crowbar (yeah, that crowbar) than be alone with Bruce when he gets like that. But after over a week of being responsible for increasingly insane baby Robins, Bruce’s company is honestly the most preferable and isn’t that sad.

But then Bruce opens his mouth like he’s actually going to say something, possibly something infuriating like “thank you for looking out for your brothers” and Jason can’t have that, so he starts yelling. It starts something like "What were you thinking making kids Robin?!” and “How couldn’t you stop them?!” and “WERE THEY ALL THIS INSANE!?!!”

The answer is yes, yes, they were. Bruce is only slightly amused by Jason’s reaction to what has been, for nearly twenty years now, his daily life.

After Jason has yelled most his stress out and been assured, yes, this is just the normal response to children, what the hell, Bruce says something like, “it was the same with you.”

Jason’s death glare would be more effective if he didn’t pull it out every time he talked to Bruce. As it is, Bruce is remarkably unaffected. And even goes on to add, “Robin was how I convinced you to stay.”

And Jason would love to deny it, yell at Bruce and remain blind, but he’s exhausted and drained and just completed a crash course in yeah, kids are really fucking hard, actually. 

And thing is…he remembers. He remembers being a street kid suddenly taken in by Batman. He remembers being scared and cold and hungry and having no understanding of what kindness meant. No comprehension of the idea of someone who would simply want to help. For nothing in return. Being Robin—it gave him a reason. A purpose and job to tell, to tell himself he was earning his keep, to keep his mind from jumping to other, so much worse uses for a young boy. 

It does fix everything. Jason isn’t magically slotted perfect back into the family. He’s still mad at Bruce for a whole laundry list of things. But for the first time… maybe putting kids in costumes to fight crime still was an irresponsible, crazy, stupid thing to do. But it wasn’t like Jason was able to do any better.

Turns out his brothers are just really fucking insane, actually.

Guess that’s what made them family.

[theminecraftbee]

did anything in particular make you decide to study grief through solving counting sheep? very much enjoyed chapter 16 but augh my heart

this one’s under a cut because I ramble a LOT here!

so: SORT OF! it’s a long story!

so scs was ALWAYS gonna be about identity. even from day one, when half my original thought was “doing this from three’s perspective would be funny”, there wasn’t a world where the story wasn’t largely about identity, because this is the kind of story you can’t tell at all without it being about that. like it was maybe day two or three of waffling about this au, at least a month before I would actually commit to writing it, that I went “oh three isn’t actually really grian” (albeit in a different way than I ended up exploring it here).

the part about grief came later.

originally, the theme of grief came about because I was trying to decide WHY martyn was about and stealing watchers. that’s when I remembered a common watcher!grian trope: it’s fairly common (at least on the watcher!grian I’ve read, which to be fair is limited) for grian to have assumed the evo crowd was dead and vis versa. and I was like. aha! martyn can be attacking the watchers in vengeance for grian being dead! then I’ll be able to REALLF play with the dramatic irony if already wanted to use, where no one but the audience knew three was grian, because there’s another angle to work at that on!

cue: oh no wait this is about grief again. (see: tumblr post that I’m pretty sure is still semi-viral.)

the thing is, oftentimes “the evo crew thought grian was dead” is played for grian angst, which makes sense in grian-focused angst fics (this is not shade). but I was like. but that’d fuck up the people involved, right. like having your fun mystery game ended by someone actually getting murdered would tear basically everyone there apart, and that’s not even considering that the evo gang isn’t the WORLD’S most communicative people already. so I went… what if I made the story about that? what if, alongside being about three and identity, it was about the evo crew, grief, and how trauma can fuck up your relationships in unique and messy ways?

plus, like. this is a winter soldier fic. a staple here is “the moment steve realizes the winter soldier is bucky”, and while in three’s arc that bit is almost all about it taking the final step to establish its own independent identity, in the other’s arcs, that’s when they have to come to terms with who three used to be. and like, even in a world where three is uncomplicatedly grian, that’s a pretty big grief to have to unpack all over again. but this is a world where three is not grian, where I realized I’d have to tag mcd despite the character who died sort of also being alive, etc. at least there, grief would have to be explored.

also, for the weight of “grian and am I him” to actually hit three, three has to have an idea of how heavy grian is. like, in the original version I had pearl with the line “oh my god why are you grian” as a joke, and three responding “who is grian”. (oh, the early darlings of this au I killed.) but that doesn’t actually hit the same way, thematically, right? because it works best if once the reveal happens, we all know how much of a shadow grian casts.

in that way it comes back to the theme of identity, because identity here is therefore kind of intrinsically linked to grief. that final hurdle three has to cross to figure itself out of “can I define who I am out from under this shadow” doesn’t work unless everyone is really grieving for that shadow, yeah?

and, well, I’m me. I can’t avoid writing grief that long, it’s a theme I tend to gravitate back towards all the time. it makes sense in a fic that ended up actually being somewhat personal thematically that I’d end up back there.

it’s just one of those things. I realized martyn was there to avenge grian and then realized the story all worked so much better if it was about grief.

anyway this was a REALLY LONG RAMBLE but I hope you liked it! a glimpse into my thoughts I guess.

[hugmeimtouchdeprived]

Ghost!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Prologue

A little prologue, I guess? I do want to make this into a proper fic, just a bit busy now so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to write.

English isn't my first language and this is my first fic, so please bare with me!

Inspired by @ghouljams's ghost!Ghost fics!

(Yes I did write something for this previously on a different account but ended up deleting it for reasons)

Content warning: MW3 (2023) major spoilers, major character death right at the beginning, not edited because it's 1am and I'm feeling lazy but really want to post this, please let me know if I need to add more, I'm still new to this!

Soap x reader, this one is from Johnny's POV but the next part will be reader's POV.

Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

It’s odd, really, how quick it all happened. From defusing a bomb to saving his captain to getting shot. He hadn’t even realized he was dead at first, although it should have been obvious in hindsight. No one could survive being shot in the head from point-blank range like that, not even an elite soldier.

Truly understanding what had happened took a while. Sure, he could see his own limp body on the ground as his teammates stood around him, when it was delicately put in a body bag and carried away, but it didn’t hit him until way later. It was more confusing than anything when he tried to tell them he was alright, that he was right there, and nobody would listen. Nobody would even look at him.

He watched as people came in and out of the tunnel for the next few days, doing their investigations and cleaning up the corpses and the blood, until everything went back to normal. Trains ran by as scheduled, workers hustling about.

Johnny was deep in denial for a long, long time. He can’t be dead, absolutely not. Look, he’s right here! Just- just look at him. Please look at him, say something to him. Why the fuck is everyone ignoring him?

No, actually, it’s just a bad dream. That’s what it is. He’s having a very vivid nightmare, one that feels like it just won’t end. But it will. Definitely. He’s going to wake up at base, or maybe back at his apartment in the city, and he’ll go to work and tell everyone about the weirdly realistic nightmare he just had, and they’ll all have a laugh about it.

But days turn into weeks, and he’s still there. It catches up slowly that this is no dream. He’s not going to simply wake up, not this time. He keeps going between absolute hopelessness and uncontainable rage. How could this happen? Sure he knew the risks of his job, that his life could end with little to no warning at any moment. Still, it’s almost impossible to actually comprehend once it has happened. What will his family think when they get the news? How will his poor mother handle it, if at all?

What about his team? They’re trained soldiers, best of the best. They’ve all lost friends, loved ones, teammates. They’ve seen it all before, surely this is no different. Just another Tuesday. No, they’re a family. At least in Johnny’s eyes. They must miss him, grief in their own ways.

And then there’s Makarov. Johnny can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing. The 141 must still be on his tail, if they haven’t caught him already.

Johnny hopes they give him hell. For everything he’s done, and selfishly, Johnny hopes they make sure to avenge him while they’re at it.

Acceptance of this new reality comes agonizingly slow. Johnny tries to force it, tries to convince himself that it’s okay, it was bound to happen eventually. It just happened sooner than he had dared to hope. But that’s how it goes, people die, the world moves on.

He does eventually move around the underground tunnels. He could leave. At least he’s pretty sure he could if he tried, but he doesn’t want to. Maybe someday, but what good would it do now? Watching his loved ones grieve his passing, wondering how the hell they can go on. Johnny knows he was loved. He is loved. And he is full of love, even if he didn’t always show it in a traditional way. But the people around him definitely knew it, Johnny always made sure of it.

And now he’s alone.

He wanders the underground tunnels, watching the trains rush by. Makes sure to step aside when they do, still afraid of being hit. Refuses to even test it if he’d just pass right through them or other solid objects and surfaces (or maybe he does pass his hand or entire arm through some worker in a bright vest, just to see if he can. It’s not like the man will ever know anyway, despite the cold shiver that seems to go up his spine.)

Finding himself at a platform with people passing by at almost all hours of the day feels like a relief. Nobody will still acknowledge him, but the hustle and bustle fills his days with something, and that’s definitely better than nothing. It’s boring and mundane but feels less lonely. He watches as people rush to work, complain about the weather and how the train is late again, teenagers loitering around and kids playing at their parents’ feet as they wait. Occasionally he’ll see some dramatic show of goodbyes and breakups and arguments and heartbreaks of all kinds. He’ll see reunions, online friends meeting for the first time. Even watched some poor bloke propose to his girlfriend. She had awkwardly declined and quickly hopped on the next train, leaving her boyfriend on the platform. Johnny would have felt bad for the young man, if the couple hadn’t looked like they were on their first date.

He makes stories about people, especially ones who take this route often. Wondering where they’re coming from, where they’re going and why. What the lives of these seemingly regular civilians must be like. The single mom who gets on the train almost every day with two screaming toddlers in tow. The young man always smoking, ignoring the glares and the security telling him off. The old woman who comes by alone, often not even getting on a train and opting to sit near the stairs for a couple hours, a few days a week, just people watching. Just like Johnny, he supposes.

That’s how the first months go by. Johnny isn’t sure how long, there’s no point in keeping count of the days, weeks, months. He’s dead, what’s he going to do with that information? Well, he does keep some track of the days, reading headlines of newspapers and articles over people’s shoulders as they wait, just to keep some track of what’s going on in the world outside the tube network.

Yeah, it’s still boring as hell. Faces passing by, day by day.

Johnny is tempted to leave, or at least see if he can. There’s only so many things to see at a train station until it starts to numb his mind. He could probably see the world. Other than war zones and safehouses and such, that is. Do ghosts go on vacations? Can they go on vacations? Johnny doesn’t know much about what ghosts – at least he thinks he’s a ghost, or a spirit of some kind – like him are capable of. Too many movies and stories about the subject, all so similar but oh so different from one another. Guess there’s no better time than the present to find out, huh?

Those plans of leaving for good are quickly forgotten when something – someone – catches his eye one day. Not even sure why, he feels drawn to her, like a magnet. And after just a few days of seeing her almost daily as she gets on a train in the morning and returns later in the evening, it just doesn’t feel enough for poor lil’ Johnny. Whatever this is, he can't just let her be. Especially when, for a brief moment, he believes she looked at him. Actually looked straight at him.

Well, maybe he will try and leave this tunnel, after all.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 🌷This was a fairly quick thing, just because I wanted to get this little fic started, and starting a new project is always the hardest part in my experience. Just wanted to get the ball rolling, ya know? Just getting those brainworms out.

Original drabble | Chapter 1

[batwynn]

Just, I guess, a heads up if you’re wondering why I haven’t been up to my usual productivity outside of the fact that my health is on its way to the Danger Zone again.

Every. Single. Day. I think about how I almost had a safe, good home for my mom and my cat because of the amazing kindness that was given to us from so many generous people. But mostly, it was Eve. She helped plan all of this. She literally bought the house, worked out a payment plan with me that was beyond generous, and helped us get out of a horrible situation. She was there when I needed to cry about the well house flooding and the water pump getting destroyed. She was there to talk about fandom stuff and gardening and how messed up the credit system is. She was there when the wind hit the house so hard it scared us. She was there to be funny and witty and awesome. We talked almost every single day. She was a lifeline in a million ways.

And we had a home that felt secure, because of her. Finally. After years of suffering, and poverty, and abuse. After being homeless for the fourth time in my fucking life. We had somewhere to live that would be ours. Ours and Eve’s. We were so close, and we had all these plans to make something of this place to give back to people. Our food bank farm plans. Our meal delivery plans. Our cat fostering plans. Things we shared a love for and cared about together.

And then the worst happened. She died. Eve died. And we tried to pick up the pieces of these plans, tried to fix what we could on our own. All while grieving for Eve. We grew so many tomatoes and cucumbers and peas in 2022. We donated boxes full and it was bitter sweet because who do we share the joy of that with? We cried when the apple trees arrived, just weeks after she died. I broke down when I used the electric blanket she sent us when the temps got below zero. I couldn’t even think about thanksgiving because we were supposed to go visit Eve and spend it with her that year.

I think about this every day because we don’t have that now. Because of one person involved who just… doesn’t care. And they don’t have to care, really. That’s ok. I never once asked for anything other than a few emails from them, which don’t require them caring about us like Eve did. It just required a few minutes of their time.

But because of that one person not communicating, I am $7k in debt just to have a heat source. A heat source we installed ourselves and that I can’t afford to keep fueled. Because our original plan was to have an electric heat pump. I had an electric credit lined up (because I make so little income) that would have gotten us through this winter. I could have gotten a tax rebate from the state for the heat pump that would have covered almost the entire cost. But, because of that one person not sending an email, I wasn’t able to update the dangerously outdated electric panels to have the heat pump installed. One of which is in a collapsing well house… that also needs to be fixed. All these things require building permits and permission from the home owner. Which I couldn’t get. Because they didn’t communicate all year. And when they finally responded to one of my many emails, all they said was ‘Sorry, I was on vacation.’ They didn’t give any permissions, they didn’t communicate with the insurance, or do any of the maybe five minutes worth of communication I had carefully asked for.

And you know, Eve told me that I would get the house and some money to fix it if she died. To continue our plans in her memory. Something I never asked for. Something I never once even thought about after she said it because, how could she possibly die?

But she did. And I just don’t fucking care about being given these things because I’d burn it all down to have Eve back. I don’t want it at the cost of her. I don’t want it to be this way.

But then there’s my mom, and my cat who are in an unstable home now. That isn’t ours. That isn’t warm. That isn’t safe. That’s owned by someone who doesn’t want anything to do with it or us. And it doesn’t matter if I don’t want it, because if I don’t own this home I can’t get help from all these fantastic programs that help poor people like me to fix our shitty broken homes. So we are trapped here as it falls apart. We’re trapped here, under a massive amount of debt, in a broken, cold house, with no one who can help and no way to get out. Because of one person.

I think about this every day, just going in circles. There’s no way out. I can’t appeal to this person to do anything they obviously don’t want to do. It doesn’t seem to matter what agreements were made or how easy it would be for them to make a huge difference for us. I can’t save up to try to find somewhere else. I can’t work harder/more when my health has gotten even worse. And I can’t keep begging for help online. Not again.

So I’m just here, chewing off my own leg to try to get out and getting no where while my health and sanity completely disintegrate. I’m trying to keep up with everything as best I can, but I know I’m failing. I’m sorry. I know I’m failing.