#this job seems like heaven after that so don’t come crying to me about how the freezer makes your job the most cruel thing on earth🙄y | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yunyunrin · 2 months

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Chapter Two : Holy Fool

genre : horror, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, enemies to lovers, alternate universe, slow burn

pairing : angel!reader (gn) x kingofhell!???, other side pairings

chapter warnings : arguing, crying, flashback, panic attacks, religious themes, yandere themes, anxiety

wc : a bit over 10k

A/N : here we go!!! everything from here on out is going to be a bit more fast paced so i’m excited for that 😣 and i finally got the motivation to edit! if i left out any warnings on accident let me know!

MDNI

holy fool masterlist | chapter one | next

“Glory be to God, Amen,” you recite to yourself as you finish your prayer, quickly looking around to find a familiar face.

“Angel Blossom!” Poppy shouted a little ways away from you as she walked towards you after the prayer, granted her choice of volume garnered some stares from the other Angels. Poppy didn’t seem to mind though. As long as the prayer was over, it was okay to be happy in the prayer hall.

“Hi my darling Poppy, how are you today?” you asked. Poppy seems to be in a cheery mood tonight, more so than usual.

“I should be asking you that, Blossom,” Poppy replied. You know what she is talking about, tonight is when you head back down to Earth for your first assignment. You haven’t been back down to Earth since that night all those years ago. Not even thinking about the content of that night since a day or so after you returned to Heaven after the fact. Listening to Poppy was most important to you then, and it is the same now. Although you are having much more trouble not thinking about it since Angel Zen has told you about your impending assignment a few weeks back.

“I’m doing okay, nervous,” you respond. You and Poppy have now made it back to your shared room.

“It’s okay to be nervous, it is your first assignment. You will do well. Come on, let's go wash off before we head out,” Poppy ushers you quickly out the room once you gather your clothes towards the communal showering area. You both walk in and there is no other Angel there. Everyone has washed off already, but you and Poppy are washing off again.

Poppy and Angel Zen are still the only ones who know of your past as a human. In the years since becoming an Angel, you’re allowed to be around the others now, but you choose not to be close with them. Of course, you’re cordial, but you couldn’t risk them finding out anything, so you stick to Poppy. You’re truly grateful for Poppy, you don’t know what you did to deserve her. One day, you told her that when you were alive, you would take hot showers when you were stressed or nervous and ever since then when you are nervous or stressed, she takes you straight to the showers to relax.

Initially you never thought you’d be able to get used to the new life you had, thinking that your experience on Earth would make you too bashful for some of the things that Angels are accustomed to. Quickly it became something you got used to. For example, the communal showers do not have any dividers; you’re seeing everyone the way that they were made, but it wasn’t weird. You and Poppy have had many conversations over the years as you washed yourselves like you are now, but it is no different from the talks you have when you are in the comfort of your shared room.

“Your assignment, the family has had two more kids since you have last seen them. A three-year-old and a newborn,” Poppy informs you as she walks to the mirror to get a better look at drying her hair with her towel.

This hurts your heart a bit, you know not everyone has a bad life but from what you have learned in the past couple of months from Poppy, this situation was not too good. You wish you could give the mother the strength to leave, but your focus is on the children and your only job is to protect them to the best of your ability.

“Thank you for telling me, Poppy. Where are you going for your assignment tonight?” You question because Poppy herself is also getting a new assignment tonight.

“I’m going to Cana-da-da-da,” Poppy laughs at you, “apparently they are a sweet family. The grandparents live with the family and one of them will be getting diagnosed with cancer soon. I will be there long enough to help with the blow it will bring to the grandchildren,” she drops her shoulders once the information leaves her mouth. Poppy is a very emotional Angel that always takes things to heart. That is what makes her different from many of the Angels you have encountered. The others aren’t often phased by what they see, just doing their assignments and coming back to pray. A routine they have perfected over time, but Poppy is unique. You’ve had to comfort Poppy a lot because she feels everything from everyone around her.

Once you and Poppy are done washing off, you return to back to your bedroom. “Listen to me Blossom, everything will be okay with the kids. They are strong, I wouldn’t lie to you,” Poppy stated before you both were about to take your leave. “You will be okay, I promise. You can always talk to me through your bond and I will come in a second, now go to those kids,” Poppy pats your back, and you nod at her before transporting to the home of your assignment.

—

It’s been four years since the air of the Earth has hit your skin. The family from four years ago lives in a new place now, as you transport yourself in the entryway you take in the surroundings of their space. It’s small, a kitchen/dining area, a small living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Poppy’s words are replaying in your mind as you walk to the children’s room. “You’ll be okay Blossom,” you mumble to yourself. The room is small, a bunk bed and a crib. The kid you last saw four years ago taking the top bunk while the toddler is on the bottom bunk, and obviously the baby is in the crib. You move to get in the bed with the toddler, cradling him in your hold. Poppy told you that is what she did, as he is prone to nightmares and this is all that helps.

The children are asleep, and the house is quiet, which leaves you with one thing to do. Think. Four years ago. You physically cringe at the memory and your stupidity. You are certain that if Poppy’s hair wasn’t permanently a bright golden color that it would have grayed instantly that night.

You’ve learned a lot since then, you could understand why Poppy was worried. Even if you had brushed against the man, you would have been a fallen Angel that instant. That goes for touching any non-human unless they are an Angel or a child under the age of twelve. Also witches, even the human ones. You didn’t really understand the witches, though, you knew some who practiced when you were alive, and they were some of the kindest people you knew. But that’s the rules, and you can’t do anything about that.

You still didn’t know anything about the Kings of Hell. You couldn’t genuinely ask because to every other Angel in Heaven, you already knew. Angel Zen was not someone you wanted to talk to more than you had to, and you knew how Poppy felt talking about them. You just hated feeling ignorant, your ignorance is what put you and Poppy in danger in the first place.

Although you feared how the family would fare during your shift, you were more afraid of seeing him. You know it is not a sin to find people attractive, but is it when they are a King of Hell and you’re a Guardian Angel? His sharp jawline and the singsong voice he used when he spoke to you, “shut up Blossom,” scolding yourself for thinking of him. He has definitely forgotten you by now and if he did remember you, it is because you were a Heavenly being who didn’t know he was a King of Hell.

Morning comes quickly, and your assignment shift is almost done. The kids slept soundly, now there is one thing left to do before you go back. Pray over the children. You fall to your knees in front of the window of the room and put your hands together, “God, please protect this family, —” Cinnamon. Cinnamon fills your nostrils and your hands start to tremble. “No, not now, please not now,” you say to yourself before finishing your prayer.

The smell of cinnamon and the feeling of his eyes on you has not left since the beginning of your prayer. This can’t be happening, you think to yourself as you walk to the kitchen, hoping that their mother is cooking breakfast with cinnamon or perhaps lit a cinnamon scented candle? You enter the kid’s room defeated as neither was happening. The feeling of him is strong, but you can’t see him. But you aren’t looking, your eyes have been tightly shut since you entered the room, finding solace again with the toddler. Instead, hoping that this time your nightmare will go away, but it does not.

“I know you are there but please not today. Please — leave me alone,” you begged into the thick tension of the room. You weren’t expecting it to anything, especially for the presence to dissipate as soon as you were finished speaking. He let you off the hook today, and for that, you are grateful.

—

As you enter back into Heaven you find yourself going straight to the showers in hopes that Poppy has already been back and showered, but as you walk in you see that that was, in fact, not the case. Poppy looks like she has not started showering yet, but the only available spot was right next to her. It isn’t like you would rather not see her, you did want to see her. But you can’t tell her that you felt him. She still hasn’t mentioned that night even when she saw your nervousness before your assignment. Could she have truly forgotten?

You make your way beside Poppy and turn the showers on, warm water instantly hitting your skin. You aren’t sure how the Earth changes your scent, but you know that it does. Even if it is a little bit. “Blossom, how was your first night on assignment?” Poppy questions, the suds from her shampooed hair falling down the side of her face.

“It went well, they had a pretty good night, thankfully,” you answer politely, not meeting her gaze.

“I’m glad. You smell not like how I did when I came back from their assignment?” Poppy inquires. You can feel her eyes on you, and you begin to feel small under her gaze.

“What do you mean?” you ask, hoping that your ignorance will help you with the incoming questions that you know you will receive from her.

“You smell like cinnamon. How come?” her voice is noticeably down a few octaves. Shit, she is on to you. You immediately start thinking of an excuse, anything to save your ass.

“Right before I left for assignment, their father used the bathroom, I’m assuming his stomach had gotten upset from something he consumed the night before. Before too long, the whole apartment was smelling… Not good. His wife woke up a short time after and lit a candle, probably cinnamon,” you chuckle to yourself and move to rinse your hair, “I’m thankful she did, if she didn’t, I would likely smell a lot worse…” you told Poppy, hoping that your lie was enough to fool her.

Poppy nods her head and the rest of the time you and her spend showering was met with silence. After your shower ends, you go to your room to make sure you have everything you need for your prayer. Some Angels take holy books to pray, others take holy memorabilia, others take nothing. It just depends on the mood and the Angel. Tonight you opt to take a holy book while Poppy just makes sure she looks presentable enough to walk into the prayer hall. ‘You know you can tell me anything, Blossom’ Poppy shares with you through your bond. You look at her and smile, showing that you understand and that you will. Your second lie in Heaven tonight, wow you really are the best Angel, sighing to yourself at the hidden thought.

You and Poppy walk shoulder to shoulder into the prayer hall before going to your respective spots. You and Poppy cannot pray together in the prayer hall due to the difference in your ranks. You are the lowest ranked Angel, while Poppy is a few ranks higher than you are. The prayer hall is beginning to fill with Angels which means the official prayer will start soon, but that does not stop other Angels for beginning to pray earlier. You have been in his prayer hall continuously for the past few years, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. The hall is long in length and width, plated with pure gold. The floors are marble and there are cushions of red velvet that act as a barrier for when you fall to your knees during prayer. Contrary to your belief beforehand, there are no statues of Angels because wouldn’t that be weird? Apparently.

The orchestra music pauses, causing you to come back to reality from your thoughts. A high ranked Angel, like Angel Zen for example would start off the prayer and then the remainder of the time Angels would pray about what you feel you needed your attention, or God’s attention. You had three things you wanted to pray on. The first was your ability to lie in Heaven, your faith itself, and —. You pause your last thought. Your prayers go directly to God, and you aren’t sure you want God to know about this yet. But if God is all knowing, then you shouldn’t have to pray about it anyway, right?

After your years of being an Angel you’d expect to be a fierce believer of God, but you are not. You took steps further than you had when you first became an Angel but probably not as much as Poppy would hope. You believe in God, but you don’t feel the need to worship him, you know he exists but is he really worthy of your worship? What makes him more worthy of it than Lord Hades or Lady Athena? This is how you were different from the thousands of other Angels in the prayer hall, you believed in every God’s existence. Your belief would render you an Omnist Pagan, which is why you could never speak of it. That’s why your best friend Poppy could never know that the Angel she worked to help become a pious God-fearing Angel, was a Pagan. During times and thoughts like this you wish you had Dina, where you could speak freely.

—

Although you believe this way, you have a tremendous amount of guilt. You were given a second chance by people who worship God and you could not even worship him in which others feel he deserves. Lying in a space that it was forbidden to lie, and no one was the wiser. You sat here during prayer and prayed the best way you knew how to change the way you thought, to think like Poppy. That’s what you prayed for. But year after year, nothing changes and occasionally, you don’t feel bad. You’re praying about it, so now it’s out of your hands. You know it truly is not, but that thought helps to keep the guilt from consuming you entirely.

Before you know it, the prayer is over and Poppy is making her way to you. The walk back to you and Poppy’s shared room is quiet but comfortable. You walk in first, and Poppy follows and closes the door once she enters. You sit at your respective beds, allowing your bodies to truly rest after the long night of your assignments and the prayer that followed it.

“What do you intend to do today?” Poppy asks cheerily.

“I think that I will sleep for a couple of hours, then clean for a bit, and I think that I will also read some scriptures. How about you?” you ask while glancing at the Angel.

“I think I will go down to Earth for a bit and bring the holy feel to a couple of churches. You know you don’t have to sleep, right? Angels don’t need to sleep to function,” Poppy clarifies, like you didn’t already know. Ever since becoming an Angel and after those first couple of nights, you truly haven’t been tired, but you still sleep. It helps pass the time and if you’re being honest, you hope that one day you will dream. It hasn’t happened, but every so often you wish that you would be allowed to live the way you wanted through your dreams, but you have not been granted that wish.

“Yes Poppy, I know. It is just something I miss from Earth, it’s grounding. Plus, I only do it for a couple of hours. It isn’t like I do it and then wake up to pray and go to assignment. I guess it is a guilty pleasure, you could say,” you retort back

Poppy doesn’t seem too amused with your response, but you were being honest. Sleeping for a couple of hours wasn’t hurting anyone. “Praying is grounding, Blossom. And that guilty pleasure is what we’d call a sin on Earth,” Poppy jitters, her fists clenched.

“Napping isn’t a sin for people on Earth, Poppy,” you clap back while massaging your temples, your voice beginning to sound volatile.

“It is when you nap and aren’t tired that is what God would consider Sloth, Blossom. Don’t try to tell me what is and what is not a sin. Don’t forget who—” Poppy cuts herself off before saying her last bit, looking up at you with glossy eyes at the thought of what she was about to say to you.

“Is the real Angel,” you say, finishing the sentence that she was going to say. Poppy doesn’t normally share her thoughts with you, opting to keep them to herself. But at that moment, she was too angry to keep herself in that white bubble that she finds comfort in.

“That isn’t what I meant, I’m sorry I thought that. We all struggle, we are all tempted. Every Angel is, if we were not there, would be no fallen Angels. Although what I said about the sin being considered Sloth was true, I really cannot judge you for it, as what I struggle with the most is wrath. You have seen it more than I’d have liked. Please forgive me, don’t take what I say out of anger as truth. Only you know your true intentions, all we can do is try to be better. It doesn’t all happen at once,” Poppy says with an apologetic tone. You can’t lie that what she said and thought didn’t hurt your feelings, but you knew she was sorry. You know that much. If you had seen half of what she has seen, you would likely struggle with wrath too. After the argument, you feel nonverbal, so you opt to go and give her a hug to show her that you aren’t mad. You both stay like that for a while, and for once, Poppy lays with you. You aren’t sure if she falls asleep, but you wake up in her arms. You know this is her way of apologizing and if you’re being honest, you’re grateful to have been held after what you have been through during your first day of assignment, even if she doesn’t know what truly transpired.

—

Once you wake up from your nap and Poppy goes to do what she had planned to do during her free time, you decide to go back to the prayer hall to read the scriptures. To anyone else, you would be just an Angel reading the Bible. Which would be true, but you’re reading for a slightly different reason. Who are these Kings of Hell. No one has told you nothing. You think it is crucial for you to know, you have learned of one of their existences, and you don’t think you want that to happen in that way again. Poppy said they don’t normally come out, and the man that night didn’t correct her, so it must be true. But what if they decide to come out one day, and you simply don’t know. You still haven’t encountered a Demon since that night. Obviously, you know how to spot one, but if a King of Hell can look like, not a Demon? Then how are you supposed to know. You felt that same man last night, but you still don’t know his name. Aren’t you supposed to know their names, and it gives you leverage over them? You think about that, you aren’t sure how true it is, but you remember it being talked about from the second Conjuring movie. You laugh to yourself, getting information about Demons from a movie that you saw before you died. Comical.

You read for hours and find nothing. Obviously, the seven sins themselves are talked about, but not the Kings who rule over them. Why are there eight Kings but seven deadly sins? This makes no sense, and you wish someone would just tell you. “Angel,” a gruff voice calls from behind you. You look behind your shoulder to see none other than Angel Zen himself.

“Yes, Angel Zen,” you reply softly to the man who seems to be in a good mood currently.

“Reading scriptures for fun?” he questions, an eyebrow raised. You don’t even know if this Angel has the capability of being in a good mood. Alas, you keep a curt smile on your face while speaking with him.

“Not for fun, but to learn. You can never read too much when it comes to scriptures,” you answer, hoping that the conversation will end soon.

“That is correct, Angel. The orchestra will start soon, so go get ready for prayer,” he instructs before shooing you away with his hand. After the interaction, you walk to your room to get clothes before walking to the showers. As you enter the orchestra, music begins to play, and Angels begin entering the showers. As the showers fill, you begin to wash off with the soap and wash rag. You know the whole point of no scent in the soap is so you will only smell like your scent, but every so often you miss being able to wash yourself with soap that smelled like cotton candy or something magical like that. As you finish your shower and are leaving to go back to your room to get ready for the prayer, Poppy comes in. She smiles at you brightly before going to the shower that you just occupied. If you see her tonight before your assignment, it will only be briefly after the prayer.

The walk to your room was short, and you didn’t really have much to do to get ready for prayer. You decided to bring a cross with you this time instead of the Bible. Honestly, you’re a bit nervous to going out tonight, so the cross will help with your fidgeting during the prayer. If you’re being honest you want answers, but you know the likelihood of you getting them is not strong, but you just wish you could know what everyone else does.

—

And just as quick as the prayer started, it ended just as swiftly. You’re used to looking over your shoulder to see Poppy, but she hasn’t quite made it to you yet. She’s walking your way and as you go up to meet her, she walks right past. She didn’t even look your way. You look around for the only other Angel that you know, Angel Zen. Once you find him, you make brief eye contact before he moves his gaze back to the Angel he was just speaking to.

You sprint back to your room to find Poppy. Once you enter, you see her back, as she is clawing through the drawers with an urgency that you haven’t seen in years. “Poppy,” you cried out, tears threatening to fall down your eyes. She turns around and glances at you but does not make eye contact. Without a word, she is gone. Likely having transported herself to her assignment.

You fall to the floor, your lower limbs having given out on you. Your throat feels like it is closing, and your spit is falling out of your mouth as you sob. ‘Poppy, what did I do wrong, please Poppy’ you ask through your bond, hyperventilating in the position you find yourself in. You try to get up to go to your bed, Poppy having decided not to respond to you. As you’re walking to where your bed sits, your vision gets no better. Your sight is going in and out, and your head is getting lightheaded. You feel your body give out, you come back to reality as soon as your head hits the floor, only having passed out for a few seconds. You opt to lay there because you know you are not strong enough to hold your body up right now. You think of Dina, and how she would help you during your panic attacks.

“Hey Dina, we have the same schedule this week,” you cheered, happy that you and your best friend will see each other a lot the following week. Your best friend jumps up and down with her hands cupping her face, sharing the same excitement. Working at the bakery shop was fun, especially when it was the graveyard shift. All you and Dina did was bake throughout the night, and doing light decorating. The morning shift would come in and do more thorough decorating.

“The owner said we have to bake this huge cake tonight, to not even worry about the small stuff, that he would come in and bake those later in the shift,” Dina says with wide eyes.

“Jeez, how big is the cake?” you question Dina, never has your owner came in to make baked goods. Your manager, sure. The owner? Never.

“We’ll have to see once we get there,” Dina says, and you both walk out the door with pep in your steps because you have got to see what this cake is all about.

“Dina, this is not what I was expecting,” you say with your mouth agape in shock. This cake has so much to it. It’s a gigantic house, three stories. Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, and strawberry were the flavors that you had to use. But not one part of the cake had to be a certain flavor, but one room in the house had to be a swirl of all the flavors? What an odd request. “I feel bad for who has to frost the cake, they want eight different colors for their frosting. They also want it swirled for that one room,” you tell Dina, still in shock.

“Who even ordered this anyway?,” Dina asks while looking at the ticket, “Kang Yeosang”, Dina says while popping her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Well Kang Yeosang better tip us a million fucking dollars Dina,” you laugh to yourself.

“He better, he definitely has a lot of money. Now let's get to baking, the owner of the whole bakery didn’t say not to worry about anything else tonight for a reason.

You and Dina spend the next twelve hours baking the odd request, whenever it got hard you found yourself cursing the man who ordered it because truly, why did he need such an absurd cake? Alas, you have finished baking everything, now all that is left is for the other bakers to frost it and put it together. You really hope this Yeosang dude likes this cake. And will actually pay for it. It would be unfortunate if he didn’t.

As you and Dina move to leave the kitchen, you bump into the table and one of the pieces falls on the floor. You gasp and look at Dina with fear in your eyes, which has replaced the sleepiness you were feeling prior. Your legs begin to give out, and you begin to hyperventilate, and your heart is beating so fast that you fear it may fall out of your chest.

“Hey lovie, you’re okay, listen to my voice,” Dina says in a hope to calm you down.

“I fu-fuc-fucked it all up Dina. I’m going to g-get fired, and I can’t get fi-fired,” you choke out, stuttering on your words as spit begins to still in your throat. Dina rubs your back and engulfs you in a hug, making sure that the fluorescent lights of the room are out of your line of vision.

“Hey, I know it is frustrating, but mistakes happen. And what fell on the ground was sphere shaped, no one will be mad at that for falling. There is a reason why no one orders sphere shaped cakes,” Dina coos into your ear softly, still rubbing your back, “If anything, we should blame the man who ordered the cake. What was his name? Oh right, Kang Yeosang. It’s all his fault. Big ass cake for a small ass bakery shop,” Dina mocks, causing you to laugh into her chest.

“I’m sorry Dina,” you mumble, having calmed down.

Dina playfully turns her head, “Nothing to be sorry for lovie, now I’ll go tell the owner, and you can put in four more sheets of vanilla batter in the oven. The other bakers don’t even get here until another hour, it’ll be okay,” Dina says soft but clearly before leaving the room.

The owner wasn’t mad, but made a mental note to put the spheres into a container so they wouldn’t fall again. The cakes are ready before you and Dina leave for the day, so you take them out of the oven so they can cool before leaving with Dina after clocking out. You and Dina walk together with your arms interlocked on your way home, ready for the sleep that you are about to have.

“I miss Dina,” you sigh to yourself. The memory is a fond one and it helped you calm down after your panic attack. You haven’t had one in a while, but when you did, Poppy was the one who helped you through it. Now, she caused it. But you don’t dwell on the thought for too long, you know you’re already late to your assignment. You just wish you knew what you did wrong.

—

The kids appear to be sleeping soundly in their beds. “It should be a good night,” you think to yourself before situating yourself next to the toddler. You opt to sit on the floor and just play with his hair instead of laying with him, you hope this will keep his nightmares at bay just as well.

You wonder if he will come again tonight. You sigh and roll your eyes to yourself, still not knowing what name to put with that man you saw four years ago. “Why can’t I just know his name?,” you mumble to yourself quietly. And like he knew your thoughts and could hear that whisper the scent of cinnamon began to fill your nostrils. You close your eyes and try to ignore it. It is hard, the scent has gotten strong in a short amount of time. You wonder if the kids can smell it? Surely, they have to. After a minute or so, you’re hoping that he — or at least the scent, will go away. The noise of poking at the window startles you, causing you to look that way. The same man from all those years ago is situated on the other side, you meet his gaze, and he smiles cheekily at you.

“Come see me Cherry, it’s been a while,” he urged. You think about it, you have been wanting to know more about him, but you aren’t supposed to speak to him. You could call Poppy and tell her a King of Hell has found you again, but she definitely does not want to talk you right now. “Please, Cherry,” the man begs, asking again. You get up and walk to the window, being mere inches away from the man, the only thing separating you was glass that you knew he could break if he really wanted to. You look at him, but he doesn’t make eye contact, he’s studying you, taking in your features after all these years.

You can see he is about to speak, about to ask you a question and fear suddenly envelops you. He pokes at the window to get your attention, nodding his head to the side to ask you what’s wrong. You break the eye contact suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Hey Cherry, let me—,” you shut the curtains in his face before he can finish his statement, “Come on,” the man shouts in shock. The man’s reaction causes you to laugh, and you can’t seem to control your laughter either, replaying what you think his face would’ve looked like in your mind. “Cherry, you think this funny, but I have been waiting to see you for years,” the man stumbles over his words, obviously shocked that you closed the curtains in his face. “So you can come over to see me, but you can’t speak?,” the man inquires, hoping that you will answer. He doesn’t know that you’ve already situated yourself back with the sleeping toddler, but his continues efforts to converse with you do make you chuckle. “Okay you may not answer me, but I’m not leaving,” he says one last time before going silent.

He stays true to his word, the longer the night goes the more sparse his attempts at talking to you are. He does, in fact, not leave, the smell of cinnamon fills your nostrils until you transport yourself back to Heaven. He doesn’t even leave when you pray over the children throughout the night, he was one persistent Demon.

—

Once you are back in Heaven, you go straight to your room to get ready for your shower. You don’t expect to see Poppy, and you are correct. She isn’t there and neither are her things. Not even your bed. You contemplate being sad for a second, but it isn’t worth it. You shrug at the sight before going to the showers to wash away the smell of cinnamon that you know lingers on your skin.

Once you enter the showers, there are only two open. One next to Poppy and another next to another Angel who you do not know the name of. You had always showered next to Poppy because you aren’t allowed to be friends with any other Angels, but if she can be petty, then so can you. You walk right past Poppy, and you can feel her eyes on you, but you don’t pay her any mind. ‘What are you doing, Blossom,’ the nerve she has, speaking through to you through your bond. You don’t reply or give any indication that you even heard the thought, continuing to wash your hair and your body quickly. Once you are finished, you walk back to your room. You’ve decided to bring your Bible and your cross with you to prayer today. Your cross to squeeze in your hand and the Bible to remind you that you are, in fact, in a prayer hall.

You walk to the prayer hall, taking your normal spot. You actually try to pray with everyone else today because if you don’t, you think you may blow up. ‘Blossom,’ you hear through your bond with Poppy. It takes everything in you to not whip your head around and look in your direction, but you don’t. You keep your composure in the prayer hall, you hope that prayer is done soon because you feel like you need to scream into the void of the Earth. ‘Angel Blossom to you, only speak to me if it is important,’ you reply through your bond.

Once the prayer ends you book it straight to your room, you definitely need to scream into the pillow. Once you enter your room and shut your door, it is being reopened just moments later. Poppy is standing in the doorway, where she stays for a few seconds before fully coming in and closing the door behind her. “We have to talk,” Poppy exclaims, taking a few steps towards you.

“No fucking shit, Poppy. Of course, we have to talk,” you bite back, venom lacing your voice.

“You don’t curse in Heaven, Angel,” Poppy replies, her forehead creasing with anger.

“And you’re in Heaven too and that hasn’t stopped you from acting like an asshole, so that’s that, Poppy. Nice talk,”

“Don’t be like that,” Poppy replies, her face having became softer in the past few seconds.

“Don’t be like what? Be forced to be someone’s friend that someone isn’t allowed to have more friends besides you. Hmmm.. What else? Oh! Out of nowhere, stop talking to them and move out of your shared room for the past few years in less than twenty-four hours after ignoring them! Yes, let’s not be like that, Poppy,” you hiss, not caring for who could hear you at that moment.

“You got too comfortable, and my rank increased. I had to move,” Poppy says, glancing at the floor.

“Too comfortable? I live uncomfortably in here,” you whisper this, just loud enough for Poppy to hear.

“I’m sorry. We still have our bond, so call if you need. I couldn’t answer today due to being in a meeting, but don’t call for me unless it is urgent. And for God’s sake, tell that Demon to leave you alone. Don’t fall because of him,” Poppy says with urgency in her voice.

“You weren’t in a meeting. I saw you leave. Don’t lie to me, and what Demon are you talking about” you question Poppy.

“Don’t play stupid, everyone can smell his scent on you. He’s the King of Hell for crying out loud, his scent lingers even if you don’t touch him. And I needed to go to an important meeting, excuse me for having misspoke,” Poppy retorts.

“Whatever Poppy. Maybe if you actually talked to me before assuming stuff you would know I haven’t talked to nor felt that Demon. The reason I smelled like cinnamon today was because the kids mother made a homemade cinnamon inspired dish and their father got mad, and he threw them at the kids because the two youngest started to cry,” you respond, the lie easily falling from your lips. You glance at Poppy, and she is believing it. “And I stepped in front of them so they would have time to move out of the way so they wouldn’t get burned by the hot food. Of course, it still went through me, but it distorted time just enough to give them enough time to get out of the way. So excuse me for doing my job as a Guardian Angel, Poppy. You can tell anyone that story who doubts me. They know just as well as you do that Earthly scents linger. So stop projecting your worries onto me, I can handle myself,” you say to Poppy in a mocking tone, laughing to yourself as you speak.

“You can handle yourself so well, very funny coming from the one who killed themselves,” Poppy hissed.

“Get out,” you shout at the Angel before throwing the wooden cross in your hand at her, she teleported just in time to not get hit by the cross. You aren’t even sad at her statement, but just angry. You feel betrayed, she knew how much that fact about yourself haunted you, but she used it against you in a moment of anger anyway. If you knew better you would say that wasn’t her at all.

—

During your leisure time between assignments you didn’t have to stay in Heaven. You opted to do so because of the dangers that you had been warned of, but now you don’t really care. So you decide to go out to Earth during your spare time, albeit you find yourself on the peer. You lean against the new wood that was used to fix what you broke all those years ago.

“Cherry,” after hearing the nickname that you have come a bit to accustomed to when you ventured down to the Earth, you whip your head around towards the voice. The man leans against the peer with you, his body is turned towards you and not the water. You look back out the water instead of answering him, taking in the smell of the sea. “Still not talking to me pretty?,” questioning you softly.

“I would, but you’re a bit mean,” you exclaim, still not moving your gaze towards him.

“I am not!,” he says in a surprised tone, which makes you look at him. You giggle at his reaction, his mouth opened in shock at your statement. He definitely was offended.

“A King of Hell isn’t mean? I should talk to the other seven to let them know you aren’t doing your duty of being a big bad wolf?,” he rolls his eyes at you dramatically, turning to look at the water.

“Okay now you know that is not what I meant,” he retorts.

“How else was I supposed to take it then?,”

“I am not mean to you my little cherry blossom,”

“I feel flattered,” you say sarcastically

“You should,” the man says before taking a couple of steps, “what are you even doing down at Earth when you aren’t on assignment?,”

“It isn’t forbidden for me to come down to Earth during my free time you know?,”

“Yes, I know. But it is odd, coming to this space in specific,”

You know why it is odd, the peer is empty when it would normally be full of people. “How come?,”

“You really don’t know?,” he questions you. You shake your head no to him in response.

“A few years back, someone drove off the peer. The city fixed it but no one ever really comes besides paranormal investigators and teenagers who decide it’s cute to do a Ouija board,” the man explains.

“That’s so sad,” you say sorrowfully, “Does that person ever answer their calls? You know the teenagers and paranormal investigators?,”

“No,” he sighs, “they were always an enigma,”

His words pique your interest, you had never really talked about the surroundings of your death before. “How so? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” You question.

“Well to me, they were an enigma from the start. I wanted to see the body because when someone dies they have a marking that shows if their soul went to Heaven or Hell. For Hell, it’ll have that marking with a number, the number showing which ruler you spend eternity with,” he pauses to look down at the ocean, “the person who killed themselves had the marking of Hell with an infinity sign and the sign of Heaven,”

The revelation that he makes to you makes the blood in your body run cold. You’re glad that he was not looking at you, and you were not looking at him because the look on your face would have given you away instantly.

“That is really strange, did you try looking for them?” you question, thankful that the anxiety you felt could not be shown in your voice.

“We never tried, Heaven is quick to come to find the people who are meant to go there. I just wonder what they said when they saw the symbol of Hell with an infinity sign next to us. None of us Kings could ever figure out what that meant,” he sighs, “Did you ever see them?,” he questions.

“No, if I’m being honest I don’t think any Angel has,” they definitely haven’t, no one knows your true story. “But for something like that, I don’t think it’d be made known,”

“You’re right. They have a memorial plaque at the entrance of the peer. Did you see it?,”

“No,”

The man gestures you to follow him down the peer towards the entrance. The plaque has a picture that you and Dina had taken together a couple of months before your death’s, both of your names, with a simple “Rest Easily” engraved on it as well.

“I thought there was only one person who passed away in this tragedy?,” you ask while looking at the plaque.

“There was only one, but both of them died that night. They were best friends. The dispatch call was made public, I just don’t think they could live without her,” his words sting, but they hold true. “You know, their dad got on the television crying over their death,” he states, voice having now gone monotone.

What the Hell. What in the actual Hell. “I just think that, if you’re a good dad, your child wouldn’t disown you, you know?,” He looks at you after he stops talking.

“I agree, did he say they didn’t talk?” you question.

“Yes, the whole interview was a bit bizarre. I just know Hongjoong will be the one dealing with him once he dies,” he grumbled.

You look up at him, a bit confused about what he means by the name. Who is Hongjoong?

“Hongjoong is the King of Kings when it comes to Hell. Although seven of the eight of us rule over specific sins, he rules over them all. He’s the most important one,” You nod at his explanation, deciding not to ask more questions. He will tell you if he'd like.

“Where did she go?,” your curiosity getting the better of you once you focus back on the plaque.

“Her death was something different, difficult to explain. But let’s not talk about it,”

This saddens you, he wouldn’t have a problem telling you she went to Hell, so you don’t understand why he is being so secretive now.

“May I ask you a question, Mr. King of Hell?,” He chuckles at the name you gave him, but nods at you nonetheless.

“Still don’t know my name?,” he asks, and you nod, looking away as the embarrassment creeps up on your cheeks.

“Can you take me to where she is buried?,”

“Which one?,”

You weren’t expecting him to ask that question. “Dina,”

“Yes, we’ll have to walk through since I cannot teleport you there,”

“You’re right about that, I’d have nowhere to go if I became a fallen Angel,” you joke.

“You’d come to Hell with me,” he remarked like it was obvious.

The rest of the walk is spent in silence until you come upon a cemetery. Once you get to her grave, your body almost becomes too much for your feet to handle. You hold your composure, you really wish the Demon wasn’t with you right now so you could cry.

“I don’t feel anything,” you whispered. You sit down at her grave, before your feet end up failing you.

The Demon sits down next to you, but far enough away that you wouldn’t be in danger of touching him. “You don’t usually feel anything, Cherry,” acknowledging what you whispered to yourself.

You get up quickly, the feeling of the cemetery becoming too overwhelming. “I need to go, thank you for today,” you muttered quickly before transporting yourself to back to Heaven. You didn’t even give him a chance to speak back, but you really didn’t feel like crying in front of a Demon today.

—

You arrived in Heaven right on time, the orchestra having started mere moments after transporting into your room. You didn’t realize how long you had been out, but at least you weren’t late. You do your usual routine, no Poppy in site. Not that you really cared too much, but you still looked for the familiarity. She also hasn’t graced the prayer hall with her presence either, which is odd.

If you’re being honest, you really do miss Poppy. Being bonded with her means that you miss her subconsciously, as she to you.

“Everyone listen up,” Angel Zen announces, “I want to make sure everyone is paying attention today as God has a message that, I think, would be crucial for some of you to hear,” he makes eye contact with you as he says it which causes chills to run up your spine.

“Everything you do, God knows. Every conversation you have, God hears. Everything you feel, God feels. Everything you see, God sees as well. Every single Angel in this room is privileged to be an Angel. Don’t forget it. Don’t be reckless,” Angel Zen commanded.

The rest of the prayer goes by as normal, but you can’t shake that feeling that you get when you think about the words that Angel Zen said to begin the prayer. It’s a reality check, you can’t keep doing what you are doing. After finding out the information that you did earlier, you truly think you’d be fucked. The symbol of Hell with an infinity sign? You’d surely be in the deepest pits of Hell right now if it weren’t for your Guardian Angel.

Once the prayer ends, you walk to your room to retrieve your cross and your Bible to take with you on assignment, you can’t take any more risks with that Demon. Although you’re nervous, you have a job to do.

—

Once you arrive at your assignment, you find the baby is awake. You have always had a soft spot for kids, so you are grateful that you are a Guardian Angel for them. You don’t want the baby to cry, so you do your best to help the baby girl fall asleep quickly.

The knocks on the window shock you, almost causing you to scream. Your energy is enough to wake the kids up if you are not calm, so it is really irritating when that Demon scares you. Seriously, you have to ask him what he did with his scent. You didn’t smell it when he was with you earlier. At least you knew he was coming then. You ignore it, but his knocks do not pause. Eventually, you walk up to the window.

“Go away,” you ordered, trying your best to sound serious.

“Let me in,” he requested.

“No,”

“After everything I did for you today?,” he asked with a pout.

You hate that he was right, he did a lot for you today. But you did bring a cross and a Bible… so maybe he can’t come near you anyway. You flash the Bible and the cross at him, to which he rolls his eyes. Now that was rude, you thought to yourself.

“That doesn’t bother me. I’m not a vampire,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Fine, come in,” you mutter under your breath, instantly he is in the room with you. He smirks at you after getting his way.

“What are their names?,”

“The kids? I’m not telling you,” you stated.

“And why not?,”

“Because you still haven’t told me yours,”

“Wow, you would think they would’ve told you our names, or at least mine after I scared the living daylights out of your friend,”

“You’re telling me,”

“Take a guess, you could get it right,”

“Hmm… You want to know what you look like?,”

“Yes,”

“You look like a buffoon,”

“That’s mean,”

“You asked me to guess,”

“You’re not like any Angel I’ve ever met Cherry,”

“For my sake, please don’t elaborate,”

“I won’t,”

For a while, the two of you don’t continue the conversation. You sit in the silence for a while, you hold the hand of the toddler while the Demon sits by the crib, watching you.

“Which sin do you think I rule over?,” the Demon asks.

“Well, you said that all of you don’t really come out often, but out of the seven sins it would make the most sense for gluttony and lust to come to Earth. And you’re a bit of a flirt, so I’d say you rule over lust,” you answered, not expecting to be correct. One thing you have learned over the years is that not everything is as it seems.

“Correct,” he said happily.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting to be right,”

“You’re smart Cherry,”

His compliment makes you blush, and you’re glad that he doesn’t tease you. “Their names are Eric, Sebastian, and Ariel. Like The Little Mermaid,” you say to distract from your nervousness

“It fits them perfectly, don’t you think?,” he questions, looking back at the crib.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“My name is Wooyoung,” his voice trembled as he spoke, like he was afraid that his name would steer you away. His name was beautiful, and you couldn’t hide the grin that plastered your face once he told you his name.

“You have a beautiful name,” you reassure him.

“Are you afraid to say it?,” Wooyoung quips.

“If I say it three times will you show up?,”

“No,” the man chuckles, “I can show up when you say it once, if you say it with the intent of wanting me to show up,” Wooyoung informs you.

“That is nice to know, no one really tells me anything,”

“Do they really keep Angels ignorant on Hell and its beings?,” Wooyoung questions.

“Yes, at least me,” you tell him, not caring about the cons of doing so.

“May I ask you a question Cherry?,”

“Yes,”

“Why do they keep you ignorant, if they know a King of Hell is out to get you?,”

“They probably want you to take me away,” you say before realizing the words that have fallen from your mouth. You put your hand over your mouth like it would’ve taken back what you said, but it wouldn’t. The tears fall from your eyes before you can stop them.

“Cherry, please don’t cry. Why would you think Heaven doesn’t want one of its Angels?,” he says, trying to comfort you.

“I can’t say,” you whisper, looking up at the man who is now a lot closer to you than he previously was. “I’ve already told you too much,”

“You can tell me anything and everything,”

“I can’t,”

“Why can’t you?,”

“Because, you’re a King of Hell, and I’m a Guardian Angel. That isn’t a good combination,”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,”

“What do you want with me anyway,”

“Do you remember what I told you the first time we met,”

“That you were searching for the love of your life?,”

“Yes, what does that have to do with me Wooyoung?,”

“Just listen to me, the eight other Kings and I are destined to have the same lover,”

“You are all dating each other?,”

“No, we are all destined to be with the same person,”

“Like a poly relationship?,”

“Yes,”

“So eight people dating one person?,”

“Yes, Cherry,”

“Well I am happy for you, but I’m still confused on how I am involved, do you need me to help you look for them? I figured you’d have enough people who’d be willing to do that for you anyway,” you scoff.

“Cherry, it’s you,” his words leave you baffled. There is no way you are a soulmate to a King of Hell, let alone eight.

“Get out,” you hiss.

“Let me explain,”

“Get out,”

“If you wish, but I’ll be near, you know that,”

“Get out,”

—“Cherry, please don’t cry. Why would you think Heaven doesn’t want one of its Angels?,” he says, trying to comfort you.

“I can’t say,” you whisper, looking up at the man who is now a lot closer to you than he previously was. “I’ve already told you too much,”

“You can tell me anything and everything,”

“I can’t,”

“Why can’t you?,”

“Because, you’re a King of Hell, and I’m a Guardian Angel. That isn’t a good combination,”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,”

“What do you want with me anyway,”

“Do you remember what I told you the first time we met,”

“That you were searching for the love of your life?,”

“Yes, what does that have to do with me Wooyoung?,”

“Just listen to me, the eight other Kings and I are destined to have the same lover,”

“You are all dating each other?,”

“No, we are all destined to be with the same person,”

“Like a poly relationship?,”

“Yes,”

“So eight people dating one person?,”

“Yes, Cherry,”

“Cherry, it’s you,” his words leave you baffled. There is no way you are a soulmate to a King of Hell, let alone eight.

“Get out,” you hiss.

“Let me explain,”

“Get out,”

“If you wish, but I’ll be near, you know that,”

“Get out,”

—

It’s been an hour or so since you kicked the man out, and you should feel bad. You just couldn’t grasp how he came to that realization. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him. You haven’t even known his name for a full day yet, and he’s telling you that you’re destined to be the soulmate of eight Demons? As a Guardian Angel? He is out of his mind.

You begin to cry out of frustration, you knew his interest in you was weird, but you didn’t expect this. You are glad he found you when you were an Angel and not a human because had he found you earlier, he likely wouldn’t have hesitated to take you back to Hell.

He surely didn’t think it through, he could end up hating you. Or the other Kings. Then what? Do they kill you? Torture you for eternity? For someone as old as him he should know better. He should have known you would never go with him.

As soon as the sun comes up, you know it’s time for you to go back. You hope he will leave you alone, and you hope to put this behind you.

—

As soon as you reach Heaven, you go to find Angel Zen. As much as you hated asking for help, you knew you needed his. You go to the prayer hall, not even bothering to shower yet. You see him talking to another Angel towards the front of the prayer hall.

“Angel Zen, I need your help,” you shout, causing the other Angel to run off somewhere.

“Why are you in here unbathed?,”

“I apologize, but I need your help,”

“What do you need?,”

“I need a new assignment, I need something else to do, please believe me,”

“Why is that?,”

“Please, I have already lost everything,”

“Once you start playing with fire, you need to learn how to hose yourself off,”

You fall to your knees as sobs begin to fall down your mouth, you didn’t know what else to do. You don’t know how to save yourself, you’re alone in this battle.

“I will see what I can do, it is challenging to find an Angel to take your spot. Every Angel has its purpose. Angels fall every day, so it makes it harder. But you are strong, resisting lust’s charm. I will try since you are such a strong little Angel. But next time, don’t mess with something that you know you can’t handle,”

Relief fills your being as you hear that Angel Zen will help you. Although he was still his same unkind self, he was willing to help you. A human quality of stubbornness helped you in a time of need, which you are grateful.

“Now go shower. Never come in the prayer hall with the smell of Earth on you ever again,” Angel Zen commands as he points to the exit of the prayer hall. You are out instantly, going straight to get your clothes and going to the showers. You wash off the contents of the day before going back to the prayer hall with your Bible in hand.

Once you enter the prayer hall, you sit down in your assigned spot. You begin to read the Bible to pass the time before the actual prayer starts. You have to become more serious with this — more believing. Or Angel Zen’s help would have been in vain. If anything, you know when to be grateful. Even though you are sure that your relationship with Poppy is irreparable, her faith in God is admirable as an Angel. You aspire to believe in the way she does, maybe if you did you wouldn’t have gotten in this mess at all.

Once the prayer ends, you feel empty. Poppy is still nowhere to be seen and instead of her walking up to you, it is Angel Zen.

“I have been able to find a replacement but not for tonight. Can you handle one more night on your assignment?,” Angel Zen questions.

“Yes, sir, I can handle one more night on assignment,” you answer honestly.

“Okay. Don’t let the Demon become any of the wiser. Come to me after you finish the assignment,”

“Yes sir,”

After your conversation with Angel Zen, you go straight to your room to recuperate. Perhaps now, you can become more focused on what is more important. Maybe you can see Poppy. But at least you know that after tonight, you will no longer have to see that Demon again.

tags:

@multifictionx @pre1ttyies @hecateslittlewitchling @adorawritesalot @unlikelysublimekryptonite @loumin908 @kirbrary @sunasmoke22 @ylak @yoonshiiu

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 7 months

Text

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Me: i think pre-journey Sun Wukong is an alcoholic

Hello yes, as previously stated, on my first re-read of jttw, this time reading it out-loud to my brothers and I gotta say i’m noticing WAY more this round. It’s slow going but we just read chapter 5 and I have not stopped thinking about it. (This is completely unedited and written in one sitting after cleaning for like four hours so forgive me for my grammar mistakes or any misremembered stuff, I’m swirling thoughts around in my head like orange juice in a wine glass.)

Chapter five is when he gains the title of Great Sage Equalling Heaven, gets the job of peach watcher, eats said peaches, crashing the banquet, drinking the wine, eating the pills, heading back to FFM, heaven surrounding Flower Fruit Mountain and basically laying siege and the subsequent battle. All the Yaoguai generals get captured and the only ones who are left are The Great Sage and his monkeys. As I’m reading this out loud to my brothers, I notice there’s a tone shift. To be honest I thought I was imaging it but MAN this is where Monkey King changes. Like, up to this point, he’s been pretty chill in all honesty. He’s thrown his weight around, he’s been a little unhinged, but there’s been a childlike wonder about him and just a genuineness in everything he does. He’s loved learning, he's loved people, he’s loved making friends. Even at the start of the chapter, he just loves hanging out with the celestial deities that they don’t think he should be socializing with, hence why they give him a job.

And the rest of the chapter he’s just drinking. He just keeps going and going and laughing and laughing. And he shares the wine with his monkeys and his demon brethren and when heaven comes knocking and his monkeys are panicked he waves them away. The mountain is surrounded? We’re being threatened? It’s fine, it’s fine, have another cup! Have another cup! He keeps drinking until they break his door down, and like a drunkard he stumbles to his feet yelling about how rude that is and goes and beats them easily. Because he’s so immortal now he can drink as much as he wants and get drunk enough on immortal wine that he should be dead but all it does is make him more and more immortal and more and more drunk. He’s different at this point. The tone shift is the most prominent when he comes back and his monkeys tell him all the yaoguai sworn brethren and their armies and people have been captured. They cry and then they laugh because he is unharmed as ever and they’ve lost everyone else. And from once caring about the community and those under his rule, suddenly the Great Sage’s reply is that it’s fine because no monkeys were taken. Let’s eat and sleep. And drink. He has no concept of when or how to stop. He drinks wine.

Then he gets his hand on the immortal wine. And, listen. He’s already gotten the peaches by this point. He’s a little off already, but he still has that just… lack of object permanence that he always has when he’s in heaven, but he still seems pretty Monkey King. Up until the wine. Then things start to shift. He gets his hands on the immortal wine and he gorges himself on it. He’s already taken the best of the best of the peaches and left the rest, likely because they can’t compare. And now he’s gotten the best of the best wine. The best of the immortal, celestial, heavenly wine. You cannot get better. And he just keeps drinking it. He drinks until he’s so drunk he gets lost on his way back to the peach orchard. He’s so drunk he stumbles into Lao Tsu’s palace and just… eats immortal pills like fried beans. Just pops three gourds of it into his mouth one by one until they’re gone. He was so drunk that once he starts to sober up, he panics a little. He panics and he leaves. He runs back home because he knows he’ll be in trouble. And when he gets back home, a couple centuries have passed and they throw a party like always to welcome him back, having been dutifully waiting for him the whole time. And he tastes the wine and it’s disgusting to him. His monkeys tell him he’s tasted heavenly food and wine, nothing on the mountain can compare to that now. And without even a second thought, he goes right back to the place he just fled from, just barely sobered up, and he steals a bunch of the wine that he didn’t get to and brings it back.

I wonder how much of chapter 5 he spends drunk out of his mind. Just barely sober enough to process his mountain is at war again. He’s so immortal by this point, it’s no wonder he’s so confident he’ll win. He probably feels as immortal as a thousand suns and moons. A couple thousand demons are nothing in the face of that. It’s fine. He was already loud and confident in his power by this point. I still can’t believe the Jade Emperor just put a monkey right next to the most delicious peaches ever and didn’t expect him to eat any of them. Like, genuinely bro wdym you didn't see this coming. That’s like giving a kid their favorite cookies and saying to look after them but don’t eat any of them without giving them an end time frame of when the watching ends or telling them if they get to eat any or not. I have such a rudimentary understanding of jttw at times, I’m not a super deep thinker, I do think about stuff, but other people’s takes are definitely gonna be more complex that mine. Reading chapter five and remembering when he was nabbed and escorted to the afterlife, I can’t help but look at this monkey and think maybe he would have done a few things differently if he was thinking clearly. Because I don’t think he was entirely there during chapter 5. I think he wasn’t focused or thinking about anything beyond beating the guy in front of him and getting back to another cup of heaven. It feels like Sun Wukong is missing. He’s still there, he’s powerful beyond comprehension, but it feels like he’s missing. His return to his monkeys after a battle doesn’t really feel triumphant. I have such a visual of him descending in his armor and looking like a god, untouched and pristine. But he remains untouched, even by their reports of their allies being captured. He feels untouchable.

Most of this is just me rambling, but clearly Sun Wukong had an alcohol problem before chapter five when he pretty much drank himself to an early grave then fought his way back to life. With Immortal wine though, there’s none of that need to end, there’s no hangover, just bliss. And boy does it show. I’m not sure if this was intended in the writing but OUGH I haven’t stopped thinking about the change that comes over Sun Wukong when he gets his hand on the wine. When he’s in heaven that’s all that matters. All that matters is that he has the best of the best. His monkeys are always there and praising him if he ever wants to come back. He doesn't even bother to think about how his absence affects them. He cares that he wasn’t invited to a party. He cares about his monkeys, we know this. But by gosh if he doesn’t feel like an untouchable deity in chapter 5. No wonder this dude felt like he could take on Buddha. I don’t think there’s a minute during the Havoc in Heaven where Sun Wukong is sober. He’s drunk on the agony of immortality. It’s in his bones and not even a furnace used for that very thing can burn it out of him. Sun Wukong is a hundred thousand suns and moons.

But Buddha is everything.

And that’s how he’s beaten.

I’d say a couple hundred years is enough for some of that immortal wine to burn through that monkey’s system. It’s putting him in a, albeit very harsh, time-out. It makes a lot of things make some more sense when I’m thinking about it from the view of an addict. The circlet is about self control. Once he has it, once he’s more at peace, it vanishes on its own because he doesn’t need it anymore. He doesn't need that 30 days sober chip taped onto his forehead to remind him every time he sees his reflection in a bottle. Sun Wukong is very smart, but he doesn’t really bother with self-control. It gets in the way of having fun. He drank wine and didn’t bother with any inhibitions or self-restraint. He did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted however he wanted with whoever he wanted. Why control himself or his cravings or killings or anything of the sort? Drink more wine! Laugh! Have fun! Meet people! Come get drunk with him! Why bother with decorum or etiquette or anything of the sort? He’s fine with how things are until people start to look down on him, and then he feels the need to prove they can’t do that.

Okay, I’m rambling now and thinking about the potential of modern retellings with this kind of approach so I think I’ll end it here for now. I’m just thinking very hard about alcoholic Sun Wukong and am going slightly insane over it. Yeah, other people have probably pointed this out before, it’s probably so common, it’s just my first time really thinking about it and I find it so heckin neat. WHAT A GREAT BOOK YOU GUYS. Alright, enough of that for now, I’ve gotta get ready for bed and do prep stuff for tomorrow so, have a goodnight you guys, Knox out o7

#knox rambles #Sun Wukong | Monkey King #journey to the west #jttw #alcoholic swk #me on my absolute nonesense #im sleepy now #and thinking of modern aus #i have cleaning to do and sleep to get goodnight #ngl i feel like im reading it for the first time this round its really neat #okay peace out

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thaliafrais · 2 months

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Just made a Looking Glass Fanfic on the true ending cause it makes my heart hurt and I wanted to create something out of it. If you still haven't played it yet, this might be some kinda spoiler so I suggest playing that first~~ But still it's up to you! It's your life after all, can't bother you enough. Anyways, have fun!

Characters:

Aoi Yuuta and Aoi Hinata

Summary:

It startled the boy when the alarm suddenly went on. He looked up at his phone and saw that it was already 00:00 and there's a note saying “Special Day” reminder on his calendar. He smiled and looked at the Gravestone in front of him. “Happy Birthday, Aniki.”

A Happy (?) Birthday

It was March 4 at 11:25 in the evening and a boy sat down on the plain grass as he put down the belongings he brought on his sides.

“Hey Aniki, It’s been a while. How’s it going up there? I miss talking to you, I have a lot of stories down here.”

“Tetora brought you this gift, he was planning on giving you another one tomorrow. It was a teddy bear, not sure though ‘cause it’s wrapped. He really loves you doesn't he? I’ll put this one here okay?”

“This is from Sora, a figurine of your character in the game you two are playing. He says something like ‘This character reminds Sora of Hina ' or something like that. It seems like he misses you a lot too, he’s your best friend after all. I’ll put this here~~”

“This is from Midori-kun, he also brought you a teddy bear… Are teddy bear gifts a trend now? Maybe ‘cause you're sleeping? For eternally though. I’ll also put this one here alright?”

“This flute was from our senpai’s in light music club, they brought you some flowers too~ A beautiful one indeed. I’m sure you would like this, they definitely know your preferences, as expected to our senpai! I’ll put this down here.”

“Hm~~ A lot more gifts from other people. Aniki, you have a lot of friends huh? There's so many people who love you. I’ll put their gifts here okay?”

“It’ll be our birthday soon. But I’m the only one here, but hey I guess people in heaven celebrate their birthday as well huh?”

“Here, I brought you your favorite cake. I designed it myself! See these icings? There’s you and me in here. You're saying that I did a great job up there right? I wrote you a song as well, I’ll sing it tomorrow on our birthday live. I know you'll listen to it, wherever you are, you're still my number one fan. Haha~ I won’t lose to their gifts, I’m your precious thing after all.”

“Come to think of it, I used to be so annoyed whenever you call me something like that.”

“Didn't think I'd miss hearing those…”

“Anyways, so Aniki, I’m doing fine now. Not still used that you're not by my side though.”

“But I’m not scared of the monsters anymore. Don’t worry about me, just rest well there okay?”

“This is the first birthday that I’ll be celebrating without you…”

“I’m fine now but I’ll be lying if I said that I don’t miss you.”

“I miss you a lot, really… if there's such a way in the world where I can see you again, I would gladly take it.”

“Though I know it’s impossible, but hey Aniki… I won't forget you anymore, I’ll remember you until I take my last breath.”

“I’ll keep my promise.”

“Hey, you said that you hate seeing me crying so I’m trying my best not to.”

“It’s kinda hard but… after a lot of practices, I’m not a cry baby anymore~”

“Don’t laugh up there Aniki. I know you are laughing now—”

A sudden email message popped up to his notification. The sender was… Aoi Hinata.

“Huh?”

He clicked the email message right away ignoring the other notifications popping up to his phone. It was a file along with other documents. The file caught his attention first and he downloaded it and went to his gallery after.

It was a video.

A video sent by his brother from heaven? Wow, that would be fantastic ‘cause that would mean that they can still talk to each other. Or maybe this is one prank of people who want to see him scared or confused, but who would do that? The random thoughts vanished to his mind as he looked at the video for a few more seconds and clicked the play button.

He watched the video and saw his brother's room. An orange haired popped to the screen from below covering their face. It was his brother, the sudden appearance of it made his heart ache but he ignores it as he continues watching the video.

“Booh!!” the figure said on the video as he finally showed his face, he was smiling. “Are you surprised? Yuuta-kun~ Happy Birthday!! I recorded this video because the moment you watched this, we're probably not together anymore.”

…

“But see~ I won't forgive myself if I don't greet you on special days! Even if I’m not there anymore, I should still be the one who'll greet you first~!” The figure smiled proudly while chins up.

“Anyways, here's my gift~~” the figure gets something under the table, he then went up again and showed a chocolate cake with the icing on top, it was them together.

The boy who was watching covered his own mouth and fought against the tears almost falling with every fiber of his being.

The figure points the icing on the process “This is you, and this is me~ I didn’t have the time to make it so accurate but hey, this is already good, right~?” the figure smiled wide. He then paused for a while and smiled with cross eyebrows on his face. “Hey Yuuta… I hope you're not shedding tears there.”

The boy sniffled as he heard that on the screen, “I-I am not!”

“But I kinda hope you do…”

“Eh?”

The figure looked down, not facing the camera. “I wanted you to grieve and not forget me for the rest of your life. Also, think of me from time to time but… I don’t want to see you hurt either.”

The figure laughed and smiled, looking at the camera “Pretty messy right~? I don’t really know myself.”

“I don’t want to see you hurt, moreover because of me. I love you Yuuta. If I were to choose someone in this world, the answer would always be you. You're the most important person in my life.”

…

The boy paused the video and his tears managed to escape from his eyes then swiped it right away. He pressed his cheeks and took a deep shaky breath. “Get a grip ‘self’, aren’t you supposed to be keeping your promises?”

He took a deep breath again and again as he looked at his phone and clicked the play button.

“Well anyway!” The figure went near the camera and whispered “Yuuta-kun, I will leave messages on your email along with this file. Make sure to open each one every occasion alright?”

A sudden loud noise can be heard on the back of the screen. It’s like a glass got broken on the other side of the room and the figure looks out for a while. “Ah… dad’s at it again.” he then looks back at the camera “I guess that's it.” he waves at the camera and said “Bye Bye Yuuta~”

“Wait!” the boy said and that was when the video ended. He was devastatingly disappointed by the sudden stop of the video, he kinda wished it was longer or so he could watch the video for the rest of his life. But that would be impossible so he slowly held the screen where the figure on the screen was waving, he could feel the tears welling up. The tears he was holding for whoever knows how long finally escaped to his eyes. He was staring at the screen, maybe if he stared long enough, he could bring the person inside the video back to life. “It’s so unfair… you told me not to cry but you gave me this…”

He bit his lip hard and took a shaky breath. “I-I thought I was fine…And yet, I couldn't keep my promise… I’m sorry Hinata.”

“I— I really miss you so bad. I want you here… Please come back.”

The boy let himself cry for minutes until he couldn't shed tears anymore.

“I was lying to myself… this would never be a happy birthday without you.” he sniffled as he scrolled to his emails and clicked the one that his brother sent. He saw a lot of documents queued after the video file. He clicked the first one and saw a message.

Happy 17th Birthday Yuuta-kun! I hope you're doing well, I love you~

He clicked the next document.

Happy Halloween Yuuta-kun! You're a good kid so you definitely deserves a treat~

and clicked another.

Merry Christmas Yuuta-kun. Are you doing well?

and another…

Happy New Year Yuuta-kun! It’s been a year now but I know I still love you! I hope you'll have a great year ahead!

and other more.

Happy Valentines Yuuta-kun! I love you so much!

Happy 18th Birthday Yuuta-kun~ How’s your debut going?

And so on… it was so long though he reached the document where it said Happy 100th birthday. “Really Aniki… he’s thinking that I could go that far ahead?”

The boy chuckled under his lips and exhaled. He then looks at the gravestone once again and holds it. “I’ll be fine now, I may be crying always but I can keep on going so rest assured.” he smiled and took a deep breath and smiled.

“Happy Birthday Aniki, I love you too.”

#looking glass #2wink #hinata aoi #yuta aoi #enstars #ensemble stars #fanfiction #writeblr

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narrynukezankielover · 1 year

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Finally finished season 2 (I was putting it off because I really didn’t want to cry since I knew what happened). I LOVED l the season. It’s so romantic with all the touches and looks. It’s amazing. I tried to get my thoughts together so I’m sorry if it’s hard to understand.

Ep 4 is my favourite. It’s what I call the trust ep. It’s easy to trust one another when you both have powers but to literally put your life into another persons hand when neither of you have powers and the person shooting the gun has never shot a gun before takes a LOT of trust and considering it happens on the same day that Aziraphale realizes he loves Crowley I’d say it takes a lot of trust and love. I think the amount of love and trust between them is going to come back big in season 3 (plus Crowley said the miracle that him and Aziraphale did on Gabriel worked a bit too well yet it was just a small miracle. I think they will realize how powerful they are together and that is what will stop the big war. I think they are so powerful because of that love, trust and maybe demon power with angel power.

As for ep 6 it made me think more than any other ep. It also left me with some questions. The Metratron (I don’t know how to spell it) said “one prince falling makes a good news story” so is Crowley the only higher up angel that’s ever went to hell? What happened in the first world war that made Aziraphale use his halo? When Crowley met Furfur and the angel in the wheelchair (I can’t spell her name so I’m not going to try) he said he didn’t know who they were. Whether he’s lying or not it doesn’t make sense that he didn’t pretend to not know the Metratron when he asked him if he knew who he was and when he talked about the last time he seen him Aziraphale knew who he was right away. We also know that they do wipe angels memories if they are being punished. I wonder if when Crowley went to ask god his questions Aziraphale went with him to try and convince him not to ask the questions but he didn’t get to ask her the questions he met the Metratron instead (Crowley did seem a bit jealous that Job got to ask god questions. Plus the Metratron did say something to Aziraphale about Crowley always asking questions) then he was the one that sent Crowley to hell and tried to wipe his memories but maybe Aziraphale stopped it before he lost all his memories because he didn’t want Crowley to forget him. It would explain why he remembers some people but not all people. Maybe I’m over thinking that part.

The last 15 minutes made me bawl even though I knew what was comeing and I’ve seen parts of it online I still bawled. You can tell after the kiss Aziraphale was struggling with his decision (I’m also thinking that kiss was a protection). He wanted to stay with Crowley but he also wants to go to heaven to change things the way him and Crowley think heaven should be ran. Even outside before he gets in the elevator he’s still trying to decide and by the looks of it he was going to go with Crowley until the Metratron said something about the second comeing. All of a sudden Aziraphale knew if he went with Crowley now the universe was screwed. He knew he had to stop all of that from happening. Crowley usually protects him now he had to protect Crowley. When he’s in the elevator you can see him comeing up with a plan. I don’t like some of the hate Aziraphale gets for his decision to go to heaven but if you think about it he has to go to save everything and everyone including Crowley.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley x arizaphale #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands

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im1nobody · 10 days

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Mission Failed

TW: Christianity, Death/Afterlife, Transphobia

Adora sets his body down gently standing, “Marlo! Marlo, I’m so sorry,”

“How do you know that name? Who are you?” Marlo looks around, seeing his body on the floor, “what am I? I thought I was dead?”

“You are dead. You’re a spirit now. I’m your guardian angel Adora I can show you to heaven now if you want. Or we can say goodbye to your family and friends?”

“Heaven? But, I’ve sinned. I thought I was going to hell. I was bad,” Marlo says confused and voice shaking. Death is hard for many to understand.

“Oh no, most people go to heaven, it’s only really bad people that go to hell that would inhibit the peace of Heaven and the afterlife. You will be judged but you haven’t done anything nearly bad enough to go there. Maybe a class or two before you’re free,” Adora explains rushing to assure Marlo he’s not damned. “We can say goodbye to your family and friends before we leave if you want,”

Marlo looks down at his body bleeding out and paling before shaking his head. “No thanks, I don’t think I can,”. Adora nods holding out her hand and Marlo and her head to heaven.

Adora was upset about failing her mission, about Marlo dying and having to bring him here. She knew she had a heavy price to pay and it loomed over her head. She tried pushing it down wiping the tears coming out of her eyes.

“This place is crazy… it’s so nice. Am I allowed here? I was told I was wrong though. Will I get wings like you?” Marlo asks looking around and following Adora through the afterlife process.

“Of course, you’re allowed here. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reassure you that you were worthy. You weren’t being tested, you didn’t fail,” she responds, “I’m the one who failed,” Adora mumbles under her breath sadly.

“You did fail. Macey, I will be filling out your paperwork, Adora has reports to finish,” Alice says walking over to the two.

Marlo looks like he was shot in the heart looking between Adora and Alice. “His name is Marlo. I know I failed but please don’t harm him more.” Adora speaks up her eye blazing down

“Marlo…yes. Well, come follow me, Marlo,” Alice says coldly walking away as Marlo follows his hope seemingly fading.

Adora watches hiding her tears before going back to her dorms. She sits at her desk and grabs her journal to start her reports beginning to cry. The tears stain her cheeks and the pages as her body racks. Why did it not work, why did it not help? What could Adora have done to help him?

A knock on her door forms and Adora wipes her eyes looking up. “Come in,” she says trying to keep her voice stable and from cracking. The door cracks open and one of her roommates Ariel poked her head in. “I heard you crying, I just wanted to check on you,” She says softly.

Adora forced a smile nodding, “I’m alright I guess, I took a difficult job and I failed. I feel so bad for him,”

“The first job you flunk is always the worst. But bringing someone to the afterlife, and seeing them experience coming to heaven for the first time is nice too. Try looking towards the positive,” Ariel hums smiling before waving and leaving the room.

Adora wipes her eyes nodding. Think of the positive, she can do that. Marlo seemed happier to be here. He seemed reassured that he wasn’t bad. He seemed better after coming to the afterlife.

Adora sighs softly smiling to herself and picking up her pen to begin her reports. She begins with the mission report, stating the facts of his past, his state, his family, friends, and being, even his death and passage. It took a couple of hours to write down everything. What she learned, what she tried, and where she went wrong. It was difficult, and heartbreaking at times, but Adora finished the mission report with full detail and accuracy.

Next was the failed report. The report goes into detail about why she shouldn’t have haggled this job, why she failed, and why she should have taken Alice’s offer to just push to priority. Adora takes a stretch before beginning knowing that this report will hurt her more; worst of all though will be waiting a whole year before helping more people.

In the morning Adora dresses getting ready for the day like any other and leaves the dorm to hand in her reports.

“Adora!” she hears someone call out. Looking over she sees Marlo running over in his new white attire.

“Hi Marlo, how was your first night?” she asks smiling. Marlo’s hair had changed shorter and his chest had flattened.

“The paperwork was difficult but I woke up like this! I look… I look like a boy. I got enrolled into a class about sin too but Alice said I lived a good life,” Marlo says smiling brightly.

“That’s wonderful Marlo. I’m going to Alice right now to turn in my reports,”

“I’m going to look around more before my class. I’ll see you around Adora,” Marlo says before leaving.

Adora smiles softly walking to Alice’s office. She knocks softly before opening the door. “Alice, I brought the reports from the last mission, both of them,”

“Thank you. You can leave them on my desk. Your correction classes start in a week for you to grieve,” Alice responds barely looking up from her task. Adora nods walking in and setting the reports down. “The schedule will be sent to your dorm in a couple of days,”

“Thank you, Alice,” Adora mumbles before leaving.

A week to grieve? Adora has a lot to think about, sure, but she doesn’t feel as bad as she did before. Marlo feels at peace now and he feels happy in his body.

Marlo runs up to her, “I’m out of class Adora, and I was wondering, can you bring me back to say goodbye now? I’m ready now if I can,”

“Hm, I’m sure we can, let me double-check with Alice first,” Adora responds kindly, heading off to the head guardian angel's office.

Adora knocks with Marlo right behind her. “Come in,” the cold voice answers. Adora and Marlo open the door stepping inside.

Bowing her head slightly Adora begins, “Alice, we were wondering if we could go down so Marlo could say goodbye to his family and friends now,”

Alice watches and stands from her desk. “Yes that’s fine, but I’ll be accompanying you two,”

“Thank you miss,” Adora responds smiling looking over to Marlo.

Marlo smiles nervously nodding. Alice walks over and they leave towards Marlo’s home.

Walking in first Marlo goes to find his dad, he isn’t in the living room or his room. Marlo takes a deep breath before walking into his room. Marlo sees his dad on the phone shaking. His body is gone but the blood is still stained there, and the hair that was chopped off layed on the floor. “Yeah, I’d appreciate you coming down Mom. I should have seen the signs,” He says his voice shaking.

“He…he’s sad? He cared about me?” Marlo said tearing up watching.

“Of course he did, you were his child, the only thing he had left after his wife passed, but he was still dealing with that loss,” Alice explains.

“He never showed any care. I never noticed, anything,”

“I was blind Mom I know. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I should have listened. I need you,” Marlo’s dad continues on the phone, tears welling in his eyes, his voice quivering.

“Would you like to say anything to him?”

“Can I? Will he hear it?”

“He won’t hear it per se, but he’ll feel you here,”

Marlo nods softly walking over to his dad. He places a hand on his dad’s shoulder.

“Bella will watch over her now, I know she will,” He says softly into the phone.

Marlo tenses slightly before nodding, “I’m okay now Dad, I’m okay now,” he turns back to us and nods.

“Anyone else to visit?” Adora asks tilting her head softly.

“Lynne and Oliver, I want them to know it’s not their fault,” Marlo says hiding his face, tears falling.

“Very well, they’re at school,” Alice says walking over to Marlo’s old school. Lynne and Oliver were in a hallway, skipping class. It’s understandable after the news the school probably told them. Suicide awareness was always big at school.

Lynne was crying in her brother's arms. Oliver was holding her tight tear stains on his face. “We should have listened, it’s our fault,” Lynne cries holding on tighter.

“We should have listened. But he’s at peace now… he’s with God now,” Oliver responds.

Marlo is taken aback by his friends calling him that but smiles sitting in front of them. Marlo embraces the two in a hug tightly. “I don’t blame you two. It’s okay, don’t blame yourself please,” he whispers. The three embrace for a while before Marlo backs away nodding. “I’m ready to go back,”.

“Let’s go then,” Alice says. Marlo nods as Adora watches the twins cry holding each other. The three return to heaven. “Bella, she’s your mother, yes?”

“Yes,” Marlo responds wiping his eyes.

“If you want I can see if I can find her for you. It’s easier to process the grieving with someone else,” Alice responds giving one of her rare soft smiles.

Marlo smiles back sadly nodding, “I haven’t seen her in so long, I’d love that,”

#angel oc #oc #angel #original character #story #angel original character #original story #adora and xander'

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omniblades-and-stars · 11 months

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>> Message Received from its.sophie.please.open

>>Attachments Received: accounts.database; contacts.database; journal.txt

>> Help me. Coordinates: Feros>Latitude: -70.52834, Longitude: -76.86462

>> Voice Message Received from its.sophie.please.open

>> Play Message

>>Transcript: [Female voice begins speaking softly] Krios … um … fuck. Can't believe I'm doing this. I need your help. I walked into a trap. So stupid. Don't know how long I have before they find me. Some crazy bitch after revenge managed to pull one over on m- [startled gasp] shit.

Human, Amanda Olana. Apparently, I killed her brother a couple of years ago. I don't know how she found out. Don't know how I didn't make the connection before I got here. Oversight of the fucking century. Didn't think anything about being hired by some wannabe warlord. How many criminal empires have I been hired by before this?

She's … um … she's taunting me with calls and messages. She knows I'm here.

I'm fucked, Thane. Stuck in a goddamn closet, just waiting for a literal fucking mercenary army to find me … No way out. Only have one gun and a knife. Was supposed to be a quick in and out job. No games. Ha. So stupid, was gonna "play it safe."

[Sharp inhale, crying]

I sent the coordinates ahead of this. I know I don’t deserve it, but please, come for me? I don't think she'd go through all this trouble if she didn't want to make it last, hurt me real bad first. You know me, I can handle pain, it doesn't scare me. And it's not my first rodeo with torture.

But fuck, [hard sobbing] I'm scared of dyin'. An assassin who's afraid to die, fuckin' stupidest thing. 'Specially with how we carry on.

[Deep inhale, exhale]

They'll be here soon. I'm gonna take as many out as I can before they get me, so it may end up a moot point if I eat a bullet or piss someone off too much. I don't really expect you to come, but I've got no one else to even ask. If there is an afterlife and you don't come for me, I won't hold it against you. I've more'n earned this fate. I know that.

I … uh .. sent my account information, my contacts list … in case this is it for me. There’s one contact, Demetrius Freeman, wire him the money in the account under the name “Sophia Romero”. He runs a charity to help homeless kids like I was once. Do whatever you want with rest. Just want my final act in this world to be something good. Been too long since I did something good.

[Shakily, while crying] Sent my journal too, just want someone to know who I am. Been alone for so long. Probably gonna die alone now. At least this way someone can mark my passin’ in a way that means something.

I … I know I'm rambling, don't know what else to do. Nice to know someone's gonna hear what might be my last words, I guess.

Do me a favor, Thane? I know I’m asking a lot of you. But if … um … if I don't make it, or you decide not to come for me, will you go visit momma's grave for me? She's buried at Elk … Elk Gap Memorial Gardens in Elk Gap, Tennessee, North America. Earth, obviously. [crying] Her name is Hannah Shepard, S-H-E-P-A-R-D, in the English alphabet.

There's a honeysuckle plant growin' on a … a fence near her plot. It looks kind of wild, it's a plant with little yellow and white flowers. I know you'll recognize the smell before you see 'em.

Put some on her marker for me, they were her favorite. Tell her that Marcy missed her, but I probably didn't get into heaven, she won't see me again. You have my permission to carve my initials next to her name. Closest I'll ever be to her again. Ah … shit …

[Her voice falters, only crying can be heard.]

Now you know who I am, where I'm from. I tried to hide it … from myself mostly. Sad little orphan from some hick town in the mountains. Seems so stupid now. Who gives a shit where I'm from? Hell, most aliens don't recognize our accents, and I don't have any family to protect. Just my own fuckin’ pride. Don't even remember why I started pretendin' to be someone else, tryin’ to hide my accent. It started before I became a killer.

They're gettin' closer. I'll make every bullet count. Try to hold on as long as I can after they catch me.

I'm sorry, Thane. For puttin' this on you, and for everything else. I hope you'll pray for my soul if things go more fucked than they already are. Kind of hope that your afterlife is real.

Always liked the sea.

Goodbye, Thane. Hope I see you again, and not just because you're the only hope I've got.

[Deep inhale, exhale]

[Singing, shakily] You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.

[Whispering] Fuck, I'm so scared.

>>End Transcript.

#wip #I just like making myself sad #Is that my voice?#Yep #2nd version of this #Still working on the actual story

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purplespacecats · 11 months

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can't let go; nothing makes sense; hold on, hold on, hold on

or: an izzy girl's attempt to come to terms with the finale

first of all: i am still deeply upset. we all agree the pacing was batshit, and i'll expand on why nothing will make me okay with how rushed izzy's death was. but i want to accept that it happened, and i want to be okay with it, so i've been reading a lot of other perspectives and doing some reflection of my own in order reframe it in a way that makes sense to me.

i'll get the most negative stuff off my chest first.

listen. i know there were budget cuts, and fuck hbo for that. but djenks said that they knew when they wrote season 2 that it would be eight episodes. so it was their job to write an 8 episode season, not what felt like a ten episode season awkwardly condensed into 8. that's definitely a reasonable expectation that the writers failed to meet. with the amount of screentime and the budget they had, they could have made better choices. giving izzy's death less breathing room than fucking karl's was not fucking unavoidable, it was a poor choice.

and that's really what hurt the most. because i'm okay with being heartbroken over a beloved character dying. good stories make you feel deeply. but a better story would have given us time and space to grieve. it feels way less shitty if i'm crying over a character death along with the characters left behind. but we didn't have time to grieve with the characters. the story moved on immediately, which made me feel like the audience was expected to get over it just as quickly.

it was like, bam bam bam death burial wedding happily-ever-after, and i was still sobbing about the heartbreaking death scene when the credits rolled, when apparently i was supposed to maybe shed a single tear then be laughing and happy for lupete (whom i adore and whose wedding i was looking forward to!!! which i couldn't enjoy through my tears!!) a minute later. and it really sucks to feel like i just wasn't supposed to care as much as i did. that, to me, is why this character death felt not just sad, but hurtful.

because i don't think i was wrong here for feeling too deeply. like, djenks had said he didn't expect people to love izzy so much in s1, but he was happy about it because he loved izzy! so to then take that character and give him an arc to make sure everyone loves him, give con fucking o'neill a gut-wrenching death scene monologue to break all our hearts with, and then just... flip the switch back to comedy less than a goddamn fucking minute after izzy's last breath. was a terrible fucking writing choice no matter how you slice it.

i understand people who chose to give up on this show because of this. hell, giving up a show when your fave dies is valid even when it's well-written! but i, personally, want to keep loving this show. so while i'm always going to hate that izzy's death was so rushed, i can accept that it was a poor choice that hurt my feelings in a show that i want to hold onto because of the joy it's brought me.

so, other than the horrendous pacing, i'm trying to make sense of izzy's death so i can accept it. here's what i've got so far.

i really appreciated rowenablade's meta on how they got the impression that izzy's death was probably planned from the very beginning, when izzy hands was but a twinkle in djenks's eye, but his s2 development seems to have been written in later. to quote them,

What I think wasn’t planned? Was the blossoming of his character that we got. I think all the love that got poured into the character was thanks to Con, and the cast, and the fandom. And I think when the writer’s room was given this task of killing Izzy off, because that was always his fate, they moved heaven and earth to reassure us that they had grown to love him as much as we did. All those moments where he touches joy, where Con’s warmth and humor shine through? I don’t think those were planned from the beginning. I think Izzy’s death was, and that’s why for some, this hits a bitter note.

reframing it from the perspective of writers who knew all along that izzy was fated to die at the end of the season is so helpful, because i can absolutely see how, from their perspective, they made the season a love letter to izzy hands because they wanted to give him a proper send-off. and the idea that the death was planned from the beginning but the character development was written in later explains the thematic inconguence i felt between izzy's death scene and his arc this season.

i've also seen multiple people floating the idea that izzy's death fit with his s2 arc in that he died to protect his family that he loved, and others disagreeing vehemently because izzy's death was accidental and didn't change the outcome. but i see it differently, because izzy presumably chose to lead the fuckery knowing that walking ricky into the camp was the most dangerous job. he knew it would put him at close range with the british soldiers at the moment their guise was revealed. so i think it was very in-character of him to take on that danger for himself, rather than staying back and letting anyone else risk their life. and this plan is framed as the crew's only idea to escape with their lives, and a long-shot at that. so, yeah, i can see that as izzy dying to protect his family.

and i've been thinking about izzy's apology and what it meant to izzy. because yes, i absolutely agree that he did not owe ed an apology. /ed/ canonically agrees that he's the one who owed izzy an apology, not the other way around. but izzy doesn't want to hear ed's apology in his final moments. he's already forgiven ed, and it doesn't matter if ed "deserves" it, because /izzy/ deserves to let the pain go for his own benefit.

similarly, in-universe izzy's apology to ed wasn't for ed's benefit. ed didn't want an apology from izzy. but izzy is /dying/, so this is his only chance to get this off his chest. over the course of his arc this season, he very clearly has changed his worldview and approach to piracy. it makes sense that he would be reflecting on his past choices and feeling like he had gotten it wrong for all those years. not just ep 10 or anything in s1, but making ed feel like he had no choice but to keep being blackbeard even when ed felt like he was "just treading water, waiting to drown." and also re: "feeding ed's darkness," i do see that in s1 in that ed seems to make up the plan to kill stede to get izzy's approval and make him stay, knowing izzy understands that ed is done with being blackbeard but still wanting to end it in a way izzy will approve of. then ed literally tries to force himself to kill stede despite having already started falling for him because he feels like he needs to be the killer izzy wants him to be. so that apology wasn't for one cruel moment in s10. it wouldn't make sense to apologize for that after ed made him eat his toe about it, quite frankly. but izzy is reflecting on his entire life with ed, and he wants to expunge the regrets he's been dwelling on as he's learned and grown with the crew of the revenge. he wants to make sure ed understands that he's proud of who ed is becoming now that he's ready to leave blackbeard behind, and that ed has the approval he so desperately wanted from izzy. in that moment, he needs to believe that ed will be okay and happy without him there to support him. and yeah, okay, i'll hand it to jenkins on this one, because now that i'm writing this i can see how ed's daddy issues fit in here.

(the tragedy of edizzy: ed needed izzy to be his daddy dom, but he was stuck trying to be the sadistic dom that izzy needed instead. this is how steddyhands can still win)

what i still don't fully understand is the narrative role of izzy's death. part of that, i think, is just due to the aforementioned thematic incongruence of izzy's death scene with his role in season 2. in season two, he represents overcoming trauma and found family. he spends the season learning new ways of being and adapting to a changed world. but, apparently, the symbolic role of his death was preordained in season 1 and didn't take any of that into account. his death was, i'm told, a symbol of the old world of piracy dying and of blackbeard dying so ed can move on.

but in life, izzy encourages ed to move on from piracy and leave blackbeard behind because he knows that's what's best for ed. love for stede is what drew ed back into piracy in episode 8, after he left piracy in episode 7 with izzy's blessing.

so like, i can make sense of some of that with the idea that the death scene and its intended narrative role were planned out from the beginning and izzy's season 2 character arc was written in after, but i still don't fully get how it makes narrative sense. and i would love for people who are saying izzy's death, while tragic and rushed, made sense for the story to chime in here. what am i missing, or what do y'all see differently?

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #rip izzy hands #ofmd meta

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j-graysonlibrary · 1 year

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Fort Heaven Chapter 4

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full Chapter 4 under cut

Chapter 4

Some female indie singer played over the radio and filled the space of the coffee shop when the idle chatter of customers wasn’t covering it up. At most, the place could seat maybe forty people and there were around fifteen at the moment. It was also after the lunch rush and people tended to be at work at this time.

Evon didn’t have to go into the office on a daily basis and, while he wasn’t getting paid for it, he was still technically doing work. It just happened to be work that had come about as being deeply personal.

He adjusted the knitted cap on his head and shuffled his coat around to get more comfortable. Across from him, Russet seemed perfectly cool and not anxious a bit.

As soon as Yasmine heard that they would be meeting to discuss work at the new coffee shop in town, she decided she’d be doing independent research and would “meet up” with them later. It was transparently intentional.

“I got coconut milk. Hope that’s okay,” Evon said before coughing a little because of a crack in his voice.

“I’m allergic to coconuts,” Russet responded and crossed his arms.

His appearance alone was enough to distract Evon—especially since he was wearing a pair of glasses that accented his features in just the right ways. But, the panic of seemingly trying to kill the man took those thoughts over.

“You are? Since when?!”

Russet, with a smirk on his lips, didn’t say anything for a second and then picked his coffee cup up. “I’m just messing with you.”

First there was relief and then irritation—though the irritation only went so far. “You jerk.”

“What? It was too easy.”

“Meanie.”

“Meanie?” Russet questioned with a laugh. He took a sip of his drink and then sighed. “So, are you willing to listen to anything this ‘meanie’ has to say?”

“Sure; that’s why we’re here. You wanted to talk.” Evon pointed out and centered himself. If he and Russet could just bicker back and forth then things would at least feel a little normal.

“Right,” the man agreed. “I want to let you know—since we’ll be working together and all—that I have no ulterior motives. I’m not doing this because of any feelings you think I might have for you. Let’s just clear that up now and get it out of the way.”

“Well you’d already made that pretty clear,” Evon remarked with a grumble.

“Then why ask me to do this?”

As much as Evon did like him, he still had a limit to how much of his ego he could handle. “You think I asked you to help because of…that?” He shook his head. “No, I just know you’re good at what you do and you would help us get this done the fastest and with the most efficiency.”

Russet raised an eyebrow but whether or not his pride was hurt was hard to tell.

“Alright so I suppose it’s unnecessary to talk about it.”

“I don’t mind not talking about it but…you are being a bit dodgy, aren’t you?” Evon’s words put him on edge.

It had been an issue he’d always had. Evon was irritating, juvenile, a cry-baby, and honest to a fault but he somehow always knew how to get under Russet’s skin. Something about him just bothered him and the older he became the more he had an idea of what that one thing was. He just didn’t like it.

Almost a year ago, a mutual friend of Evon, Trinity, and Russet had a birthday party and invited around twenty people to a nightclub. It was a weekend so the place was quite packed which made it hard to stay together as a group.

Evon didn’t know as many people as Trinity did and Russet, unfortunately was on that same boat. Stephanie, the birthday girl, had friends with a lot of affiliations with Trinity’s jewelry story so a lot of their conversation ended up being work related.

“Leave it to the thirty year olds to go to a club and only talk about their jobs,” Evon mentioned loud enough to where his voice was heard.

Russet wasn’t far away and, as one of the people who had shown up the earliest, he’d already had a few drinks. He slid closer to the younger man so he wouldn’t have to yell. “Yeah, at least if I did my job here it wouldn’t be weird.”

That got him Evon’s attention. “It would be if you hauled around a giant camera from your studio.”

He laughed before fishing around for his phone. After pulling the camera option up, he pointed it at Evon. “I still have this.”

“Are you filming me?”

Russet nodded. “I can make a documentary.”

“About me?” Evon asked with a raised brow before laughing. It was pretty clear to him by then that the man had been drinking already.

“It’ll be called The Reality of Adulthood,” he said and waved a free hand off into the air with a dramatic flair, “A tale about Evon Sparks: The social butterfly who could no longer make friends at a party.”

The younger man’s jaw dropped. “Ass!” After they both laughed, he pointed out, “I’ll have you know I just got here. I could make friends with anyone I wanted.”

“That’s no good for my documentary.” Russet looked almost like he was pouting.

“So you just want to film me…doing nothing?” Evon asked and then looked off to the side with a roll of his eyes. “That’s thrilling. Why don’t you go bug Trinity?”

“She’s ignoring me,” he answered and walked closer as Evon started to take a few steps back.

The bar wasn’t that far away so they both squeezed into a spot and got drinks. Russet ordered for both of them and grinned. “I’ll pay.”

“Thanks,” Evon responded in kind, “So why do you say she’s ignoring you? You two get into a fight or something?”

Russet shook his head. “She’s busy with her girlfriends. There’s nothing here for a guy like me here…except the alcohol.”

“So that’s why you’re drunk,” the younger man mentioned lowly to himself.

“I am not drunk,” he’d somehow managed to hear him. Regardless, Evon gave him a disbelieving look. “What? I’m not!”

“You’d only be talking to me this much if you were impaired.” It was a joke though there was a bit of truth behind it as well.

Instead of responding to that statement, Russet leaned over and poked Evon on the side of the head and then proceeded to play with a few curly locks of hair. “We should do something more fun.”

The dim lights in the club hid the embarrassment on his face well and, in a rare event, Evon was also able to keep his voice level.

“Like what?”

It was a dangerous open ended question but the answer was quite innocent. “Go have a nap. Maybe get ice cream.”

Evon laughed at the sweet suggestion and bit down on his lower lip. Then their drinks arrived which distracted him. “You don’t want to stay and have more drinks?” he asked.

“This last one and then we leave,” Russet said, sounding rather sure of himself.

It would be Evon’s first and last drink of the night and the glass was rather small so they weren’t there for very long. And, since Russet was quite drunk, Evon drove. He took him back to his townhouse since, at the time, he was living there alone.

That was according to Evon anyway—and a few clips on Russet’s phone the next morning. Russet didn’t recall being in a car at all but did recognize when he was in Evon’s home. He was given water—a lot of water—and some pain killers.

Another time period was lost but Evon said not much happened anyway. There was a bit of TV watching though, after a while, the camera movement and colors started to make Russet feel nauseated. He remembered that. Sort of. He also remembered Evon going up to his room and then following him after a few minutes.

In his drunken state, he wasn’t questioning his thoughts and he wasn’t trying to restrain his impulses. To that point in the night, the most trouble that had gotten him into was filming boring and useless video on his phone. Walking up the stairs to get into bed with his best friend’s little brother was certainly the worst thing he did but, besides some hazy memories from a dream, he didn’t do anything more.

Waking up in his bed was a shock and sent a chill down his spine. Evon was dead asleep but he had rolled over on top of Russet’s arm and trapped him. Then, when he tried to slide his arm out, he woke up the other man.

Evon’s brow furrowed and when his eyes opened and focused, he looked just as terrified as Russet felt.

“Oh…you’re up…” he said with a crack in his voice. He must have noticed the unease on Russet’s face so he quickly went to explaining. “You don’t remember crashing here? I brought you here after the party and you fell asleep pretty quickly.”

It lined up with his memories but he still had the feeling that there was more. “We didn’t…um…?”

Evon shook his head. “No. Of course not.” He laughed dryly and played it off as a joke.

“Of course not,” he agreed, still having an off feeling.

But they hadn’t spoken of it again. Evon had his own secrets he was keeping to save the older man from embarrassment and himself from knowing the only reason he’d receive any attention from Russet was under the influence of drugs.

It was best for both of them, Evon knew, if Russet didn’t know that they’d kissed…or rather that Russet kissed him. The hard part came now that he’d brought it up and seemed to actually want to talk about it. Maybe he remembered or maybe he just wasn’t satisfied with the answer.

He was tempted to reveal the truth but he also feared it would put their deal in jeopardy. So, he figured the best thing to do was to lead Russet into telling him everything he knew or at least allow him to air his grievances and then base his answer around that.

Lying would take all of his effort since he was awfully bad at being dishonest, but he was ready to attempt it.

“So what’s the issue you want to talk about?” Evon asked and braced himself.

Russet glanced down at the table—his coffee cup specifically. “I had just been thinking that, you know, whatever happened then that we just forget about it. If anything did in fact happen.”

He was still dodging and it was borderline painful to listen to. “Do you think I lied when I said nothing happened?”

“Yes,” the man answered surprisingly fast. Even if it was true that he did technically lie… “I know it wasn’t a big one but I know something did happen and I just want to say that I’m choosing to forget about it and you should too.”

Evon almost laughed but it would have been both condescending and kind of depressing. “Okay,” he said simply instead.

“Okay.”

A long moment of silence passed while they both finished their coffees and Evon tried not to think about the night he was now supposed to simply forget. He couldn’t, of course, but he almost wished he could. The kissing, the feel of his hands against his face, his arms, and his bare stomach. It still made the hairs on his body stand on end.

To the relief of both of them, Yasmine called with news on a confirmed interview and would be on the way soon to meet them. Having her there would give them something to be distracted by and, more importantly, it would get them all closer to being finished with this little project.

#fort heaven #my novel #my writing #writeblr #lgbt writers

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fardell24b · 1 year

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The Youngest Barksdale - Part 8

Ten months earlier

When I told Mom about the classes she asked me to investigate the Principal as well as participate in them. I couldn’t ignore her request. I knew by then that there’s something up with Ms. Li. I did hear about what happened with Val. Back on topic.

Upon arriving at school, Quinn met her friends. She hadn’t yet told them about her mother’s suspicions about Ms. Li. She wasn’t sure that she would trust them to help. But with the previous night’s talk, she considered telling at least Stacy. She was sure that Sandi wouldn’t be helpful in that manner, given that it seemed that Sandi didn’t like the fact that she was trying to assert herself within the Fashion Club.

“Quinn!” Stacy called.

“Coming, Stacy,” Quinn said as she came over.

“So, Quinn, you think you going to get in?” Sandi asked.

“Yes!” Quinn said. She knew Sandi was just out for herself. She turned to Stacy. “Before the class I want to talk to you about something.”

“What?” Stacy asked.

“Not in front of Sandi,” Quinn whispered.

“Sure.”

“What was that?” Sandi asked.

“You don’t need to know.”

As the Modelling class was later in the day, Stacy was able to take Quinn aside during lunch. “What was that earlier? Sandi has been glaring at me in some of the classes.”

“It’s about Ms. Li.”

“What about her?”

“Don’t you think it’s unusual for a High School to have Modelling agents visit?” Quinn asked.

“You’re right,” Stacy realised.

“And my Mom says that she has anecdotal evidence of other sketchy dealings.”

Quinn had already said that her mother was a lawyer. Many times. “That she can’t prove?”

“That’s right.”

“So, she wants you to use the classes to dig up dirt, as it were?”

Quinn nodded.

“Like, why does she want bulletproof skylights anyway?”

“No idea.”

“All right, ladies, your worst enemy is at the end of the catwalk. The one who stole your boyfriend. She has fallen and broken her leg. Your job is to tell her, without words, that you've come to watch them cut it off.”

‘Perfect motivation, there,’ Quinn thought as Sandi and Stacy walked out. She then followed them, after a plump girl.

“Ah, Quinn, that is excellent. You appear truly to be savoring another's misfortune,” Romonica praised.

“Thanks,” she responded with a glare.

“Now, girls, you're little kittens in an animal shelter. You have to look sad and helpless so someone will adopt you, or else it's kitty heaven.”

“That’s so sad,” Quinn commented.

“I get the idea that he's been there,” Stacy added.

“It’s certainly an interesting example,” Quinn considered.

The sessions started off well. Then…

Quinn saw Brittany crying in the audience as she came out on the stage. ‘Sorry Brittany,’ she thought, with a glance in Romonica’s direction.

“Girls, your runway work is truly superb. Now, let's try a little ensemble posing. Might we have some male volunteers from the audience?” Romonica asked.

She saw Joey, Jeffy and the other one come running onto the stage.

“Very good,” Romonica said. “Any more?”

Claude then called Kevin up on stage, and things went down hill from there.

She then had the boys strip off their shirts and for the girls to rub their chests. I made an excuse to run to the bathroom. It was then that Ms. Li called it off. I don’t know how Kevin was briefly employed by them.

Present

Daria was shocked at what her niece had revealed. She said so. “Again, nothing directly against the Principal, just the Modelling Agency.”

“You’re right,” Quinn said. “They viewed us as something Vending, rather than who we are.”

“Vendible,” Daria corrected. “But you’re right.”

“I realised that later,” Quinn added.

“That’s Good, Quinn, but I’ll have to find something else to use.”

“True. In any case, I have some things to work on.”

“Trying to get through a game?” Daria asked as she turned to the bedroom door.

“Not just that,” Quinn said with a slight giggle

“Of course not,” Daria said in a lighter tone.

#daria #daria morgendorffer #fanfic #quinn morgendorffer #sandi griffin #stacy rowe #this years model

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

Text

HUMIDITY & HEAVEN

tags: camp counselor! touya au, non-canon universe, quirkless au, college student! touya who is just some guy and has a summer job as a camp counselor, i think reader is referred to as ‘she’ and ‘girlfriend’ once, purely self indulgent bc yuna mentioned it to me and i couldnt stop...can u tell i work in childcare | wc: 2.4k

The air is so hot that it feels heavy in your lungs.

It’s the hottest day of the summer. You feel the heat radiating from the metal of the swing-set you rest against. Touya silently leans beside you, bucket hat on his head as he swings his water bottle around in hand.

“How are yours today?”

Touya takes a hefty swig of his bottle. He offers you one with a wordless lift of his hand, but you shake your head. You watch his piercing duck in and out between his teeth as he chews on his chapped lower lip.

“Annoying, as usual. We already had two fights and a bathroom incident, and it’s only…” he trails off, patting his pockets for his phone to check the time.

With yours in hand, you beat him to it, “10:47am.”

“Fuck,” he groans, tilting his head back against the pole of the swing-set in agony, “it’s not even noon, yet.”

You scrunch your nose with a chuckle at his dramatics, before closing your eyes in agreement. “It’s gonna be one of those days,” you declare.

The two of you watch the campers run around in silence. Little legs carry them as fast as they can go around the grassy fields and over the littered tree stumps. A ball catches against a soccer net. Heavy footsteps clank around on the sturdy metal of the playground equipment.

“What’s your activity this afternoon?” his voice breaks up the comfortable silence you’ve been held in.

“Friendship bracelets, you?”

He grumbles, “Fuckin’ kickball.”

Yikes. Suddenly, friendship bracelets don’t sound too bad. You don’t mind the activity, as it usually consists of a silly group of girls who bother you about foolish things like their current crushes and favorite movie characters. Plus, you get to sit in the cafeteria with air-conditioning. Meanwhile, Touya’s stuck hustling outside with rough-housing boys and humidity that feels borderline criminal.

“My condolences,” you half-heartedly tease.

Touya grunts in response, unimpressed with how his rest of the day seems to be planned out. Sure, he doesn’t want to make friendship bracelets, but he’d take sitting on the cool cafe floor with you and a few other campers over playing kickball referee any day.

A group of voices captures your attention, and Touya’s follows soon after. A few campers, mixed in ages and interests, are beckoning Touya over to where they play.

You recognize the kids. They’re well behaved for the most part, aside from the occasional jokes going too far and bad attitudes from long days in the sun. They’re calling his name and waving him over with their little dirt-covered hands. With a scan of their crowd, the two of you are quick to recognize that they don’t need anything—no one’s crying or hurt, no blood or tears or frowns on their faces. They’re most likely bored and looking for their favorite counselor to torture.

With a smirk, you nod your head their way, “I think you’re being summoned.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Maybe, but I’m ignoring them until I have no choice.”

His comment gets a laugh out of you, and he’s grateful. Maybe you think he meant it in a way that would succeed in him spending less time with his kids, or maybe you’d actually read between his lines and see that he meant it as a plan to spend more time with you. Either way, he buys his time.

It doesn’t last long, as it’s not even two minutes later before the group is now making their way over towards him. They giggle and prod his sides, teasing and grabbing him to come play with them. Their cheeks are blushing and plump, which mentally reminds you to reapply their sunscreen within the next hour.

Eventually, Touya succumbs, “Okay, alright, I’m coming. Get your grubby hands off of me.”

The little bodies pull him away from you, much to Touya’s dismay. You let him leave you with an enthused look adorning your face.

You call to him as he’s practically dragged away to the playground, “Have fun with kickball later. Hit one out of the park for me, will you?”

“Yeah yeah,” he waves you off with a quick flick of his middle finger before recollecting himself in front of his little ones. “Why don’t you make me a bracelet while I’m at it?” he jokingly suggests.

You decide to take him up on his offer.

...

Outside time eventually comes to an end and the counselors round up their groups, bringing lines full of tired and sweaty elementary schoolers into their next events.

The kids have a choice between multiple different activities. You’re not surprised to see your usual friendship-bracelet-buddies making their way over to your assigned table.

A group of girls bobble their way over. Talking one another’s ears off, they’re just as energetic and bubbly as they were when they walked through the doors this morning. You can’t help but bitterly wonder how the heat doesn’t tire them out.

One of the girls notices you and is quick to softly elbow her friend, getting her attention with a not-so-silent pssst! The girls exchanged a few excited looks before one of them takes a seat next to you and asks for a piece of string to begin her bracelet.

Kids are weird, so naturally, you think nothing of it.

Time passes as it usually does. The girls keep themselves busy with a few comments or questions for you every now and then. Eventually, the girl beside you calls your name once more.

Expecting her to ask for help with weaving her bracelet or to complain an inquiry of when lunchtime is, you turn—but the question that leaves her mouth is one unprecedented.

She smirks, almost as if she knows something you don’t, before teasing, “Are you and Touya married?”

Giggles erupt in the circle formed around you as the camper drawls out the end of her question into a high pitched shriek. You slightly wince at the abrupt noise before continuing to weave the yarns of your bracelet.

“No, we aren’t married.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Another round of giggles bubbles throughout the group. As if their joy was contagious, the handful of girls bounce off of once another’s reactions at the taboo topics of love and dating.

“No, he’s not,” your reply is a bit winded, but you're entertained, nonetheless, “who said that?”

Another tiny camper jumps into your space while eagerly bouncing around on her heels.

“Someone said they saw you guys kissing by the slide!” Her tiny curls bob up and down as she practically crawls out of her own skin with excitement.

You smile at her innocent enthusiasm before urging her to sit back down and work on her bracelet.

“Well, that’s a lie,” you assure them, “I wouldn’t kiss Touya. He smells.”

The girls release another gaggle of outrageous laughter, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve won by making your little six-year-old friends smile so hard. They go wild at your response, some of them agreeing while others merely hide their giggles behind their palms.

“I’m gonna tell him you said that!” one camper beams as she points an accusatory finger at you.

You shrug with mischief as you place a few more beads onto your string, “Be my guest.”

...

The hottest day of the year eventually comes to an end. The very last camper is picked up by their guardian, and the remaining counselors are officially off the clock and sent home—just to do it all over again tomorrow.

Touya waits for you by the back door of the building. He likes walking out with you at the end of the day. He claims it’s a thing of habit, that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time, but you know it’s because he likes to make sure that you get to your car safely.

It’s still muggy outside as you go through the back entrance. The sun may have set, but the humidity persists.

He lingers by your side as you make your way to the parking lot. “Rumor has it, I smell,” he scrunches his nose in distaste.

You cough back a laugh and Touya raises his eyebrows at your failed attempt of hiding your amusement.

You brush it off with a shrug, “Sometimes rumors are true.”

He grins. “Well, in that case,” he positions himself in front of you so you stumble on your own steps, “rumor has it, we kiss underneath the slide everyday. Any truth to that one?”

You roll your eyes before walking around his lanky frame.

“Nope,” you simply state, “I think I’d remember kissing you by the slide.”

‘‘Why? ‘Cause I’d make it worth your while?”

You scoff. “No, because I don’t have short term memory loss.”

You finally reach your car and Touya leans against the driver side door, blocking it to prevent you from climbing in and leaving him mid-conversation. Though he’d rather die than admit it, he’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you just yet.

As if you’ve read his mind, your next question has him soaring.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He presses his tongue against the metal of his piercing as he cockily throws his head back, “I haven’t even left yet and you’re this excited to see me, already?”

You press a hand into his side as you push him off of your car. He chuckles when you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment.

“Yeah,” he steps aside, letting you reach around for the car’s door handle, “yeah, I’ll be here tomorrow.”

You smile at him, and it’s the one he loves, the one he’s oh-so-very familiar with. The one where you pretend to be annoyed with his antics, but the childish gleam in your eyes gives you away.

“Okay,” you softly smile. Touya eyes the bead of sweat dancing along your hairline. Though the two of you are in desperate need of showers, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He sticks his hands into his pockets, “Y’know, there’s still time to bring that rumor to life. It’s not too late.”

“Touya, I am not kissing you beneath the slide. Take me out to dinner first,” your response is meant to be sarcastic. It’s meant to poke fun at his silly request, to redirect the pressure since the implication has your throat running dry.

However, Touya surprises you, as he always seems to do.

“Alright, I will,” he decides.

Your eyes snap up from the handle and to his own. You bore into them, to see if he’s joking, if he’s pulling your leg just to hit you with a classic, you should’ve seen the look on your face!

He doesn’t. He remains silent as he awaits your response.

A bit shocked at his blunt request, your mouth remains ajar, “Really?”

Touya simple nods. You see his smile meet his eyes as he laughs beneath his breath. He opens your car door for you, and ushers you inside with a silent wave of his hand.

You find yourself nodding in return at his wordless actions, “Sure, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you conclude as you climb into the driver’s seat. “Meet me by the slide.”

Touya simply gives you a thumbs up, for he’s afraid that if he speaks, his voice will waver like a tiny camper’s when they get too excited.

Before you close your car door, you reach into your bag and hand him something. He doesn’t look down to see what it is until you’ve driven away.

Once your car is out of his line of sight, his eyes flicker down to what sits in his hand.

A flimsy bracelet woven of string into braids makes a circle in his palm. The colors of red, pink, and white dance along one another through the entirety of the strings. In mismatched beads, with letters of all different fonts and sizes, reads a simple word.

Smelly.

...bonus scene!

The clock on the wall reads 8:21am, meaning Touya’s been working for an entirety of two hours and twenty-one minutes. It feels like he’s been withering away in the confines of the building for eons, now.

One camper returns from the bathroom in a new change of clothes, since he wasn’t able to make it to the toilet on time. In the corner of his eye, Touya can see two other campers bickering with their hands and exchanging harsh words. He expects it to escalate, preparing himself to intervene once someone starts to cry.

The morning has barely begun and he’s already exhausted.

He hears the whiny voice of one of his youngest campers at his side, before he feels a weak tug on his t-shirt.

“Touyaaaaaaa,” is dragged out in a nasally song from a boy by his feet.

He’s quick to bark back without any real bite, “What now?”

The boy’s expression quickly turns devilish, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Touya furrows his brows at the unexpected question. Not caring enough to play mind games with a five year old, he shrugs. “Depends, who’s askin’?”

“Is Y/N your girlfriend?” the camper clarifies with a cat-like grin.

Touya’s heart stops beating for a moment, just a moment, before he decides that this could be fun.

“Yeah, actually. She is.”

With an excited yell, the boy wastes no time shouting the news to his fellow peers, causing a ruckus and feeding the fire that is a classroom of feisty kindergartners in the summertime.

The group around him is quick to ignite with chatter and screeches. Tiny little I told you so!’s and How romantic!’s fill the conversations erupting around him.

Another camper tries to jump on his back, Touya catches her with a stagger as he hoists her upwards while she clings to his shoulders, “Do you guys like, kiss and stuff?”

He smiles to himself, before sliding her out of his arms, “Oh yeah, everyday. You guys don’t see us by the slide?”

“Ewwwwww!” ricochets off the walls of the building. The kids laugh themselves into oblivion, and Touya fans the flames.

“We kiss by the swings sometimes, too.”

Another obnoxious chorus of shrieks and fake gags commences.

Yeah, it might’ve been a rough morning, but Touya’s gonna have a fun day.

#not proofread we die like men #touya todoroki #dabi #touya fic #dabi fic #touya fluff #dabi fluff #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader

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sleepyrouge · 2 years

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truly do not mind me i’m just thinking about older!kirishima (like mid-late 30s) having the same routine every morning that involves going to the same coffee shop after his gym workout and:

-you’re always there bright and early every morning despite being grouchy as hell at having to wake up early (but you get to control the music this way so it’s okay)

-always give him his coffee w a smile no matter how long the line is (because that’s red riot and he’s tall and strong and cute)

-but heaven forbid your co-workers ever find out bc the teasing would be merciless

-one day he figures out that you’re a student at a local university

-then everyday after that he’ll ask you about what you’re learning in your classes and it’s endlessly fascinating to him (much to the chagrin of the little blue haired lady waiting in line behind him to order)

-and it’s incredibly endearing to him listening to you gush and sometimes gripe about the american lit class you have to take

-but like in his free time kirishima starts looking up stuff about literature to talk to you about because he just loves hearing your voice especially when it’s still kind of soft with just a touch of sleep in it

-so the next morning he’s telling you very seriously about this theory that he absolutely came up w himself that shakespeare wasn’t just one man but a collection of writers and you just stand there with this completely lovestruck look on your face

-and like at this point kirishima notices that you always have your hair and nails and makeup done really nicely and just generally always seem to have an air of having it all together (but hoo boy if he knew) and he thinks it’s really cute how distraught you get if any of the ingredients for the coffee drinks get spilled on your apron

-and then you have to take another job as a waitress

-because you’re completely broke bc you’re astronomically bad w money and spending it on asinine things like your hair and nails but you’re hell bent on getting your classical lit degree without help from ur parents

-so u get a job at a cute little restaurant

- and lo and behold who comes in one night but kirishima himself with a few of his hero friends and he makes a little joke like “what are you doing, following me?” and you get all flustered but he tips well and lowkey flirts w you which his friends howl about once they leave

-and he starts finding excuses to come eat at the restaurant whenever your working like “oh, i forgot to thaw something out” or “oh, ants got into my pantry” but you really don’t mind because he’s so easy to talk to and will just let you go on and on about anything that you need to and try to give you advice

-and he comes in one night and gets a table by himself near the kitchen and when he’s reading over the menu, he hears you crying on your phone to your landlord (🤮) about how your rent would be late this month but you promise to have it soon

-and so instead of you being his waitress that night, he sits you down and makes you tell him about all of your financial problems and offers to help you pay your rent this month because he understands and your focus really should be on your studies

-but you just go on about how it might be easier to afford things if you didn’t feel the need to spend money you don’t have on stuff like your nails but you explain that you feel like you won’t be taken seriously without it

-and so kiri offers to pay for that instead, anything to make your life a little easier (lowkey a sugar daddy but without…the sugar)

-and so that’s how you end up going on little shopping dates with him every few weeks and he lets you pick out new clothes for him and stuff for yourself and he’s so patient and he listens to you complain about your crazy eighty year old love themes in spanish lit professor and how he’s absolutely killing your interest in neruda and kirishima quietly adds that name to the list of things you talk about to look up when he has free time

-and all this time neither of you realize that you both have feelings for each other and kirishima just keeps chugging along, only a little insecure that you’re quite a bit younger than he is and the situation you’re in could be easily misconstrued, especially by the media

-and yet that doesn’t stop him from waltzing right into the coffee shop one morning during your shift and telling you about how he accidentally bought a second ticket to a shakespeare musical coming to town and “would you be interested in going to see something rotten with me? it’s okay if not!”

- so you go to see the show with him and while it’s absolutely a good time, you’re in a sour mood the whole time because you always do your best to look as presentable as possible and as calm and collected as you can around this absolute gem of a man and if this was even a date, he’s shown absolutely no interest or inclination of making a move on you so you’ve just gotta be unloveable, right?

-kirishima picks up on your shift in mood and after the musical he asks you about why you’re pouting because the show was an absolutely knock down-drag out time and you end up blubbering through your tears and mascara (that kiri helped you pick out) that you thought there was something wrong with you or maybe you were asking too much of him to like you back

-and then on a busy nighttime sidewalk in the city he ends up confessing his feelings for you and you feel like a fool in the best way

#was staring at the ceiling thinking of my own potential grad school financial implications and ended up w kiri brain rot what is new #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #older!kirishima #jeni writes

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michwritesstuff · 2 years

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Times Like This (Top Gun: Maverick: Bradley Bradshaw)

ok forgive me! i’ve been in a t-swizzle mood so every song i hear inspires me to write something for you guys. This is a short one, which I usually have problems writing cause I never know when to stop, so hope you like it! :))

summary: female reader (she/her) x Bradley Bradshaw Being with Rooster was never going to be easy. As you both were pilots you understood the danger that surrounded your job, but somehow he always made it seem like it was life or death. With him, you never knew if he was going to come back, and sometimes you weren’t sure if you wanted to deal with the back and forth, the up and down. It was all just too much. Not to mention that you weren’t officially together… notes/warnings: angst? word count: 406

It was times like this when it felt like being in love with Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw would kill you. Felt even more dangerous than the years you spent assigned to strike fighter squadron VFA-151 Vigilantes with Hangman.

You knew the risks that your job entailed; you were both great pilots who risked your lives every day. But something about having someone you could lose was even harder.

As training for this special detachment seemed to get even more mentally and physically demanding, the only comfort that could be found was within your teammates. They were the only ones that truly knew what you were going through.

Everything with Bradley was so easy, it started off with casual hook-ups. Just moments to let the frustration out.

But as time passed, it felt like so much more. Bradley knew you on a level that no one else had even came close to.

You used to joke that you’d die for him, not realizing how much it meant for him to say he’d do the same for you.

Everyone warned you, they said the road gets hard and we’d get lost if we were led by blind faith.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After a particularly rough day where he nearly killed himself and Maverick in training by breaking the hard deck and barreling towards the ground in his plane is when you really felt your heart hurt.

You almost lost him, and if it wasn’t because of training it would be because of this mission.

He couldn’t exactly talk to you when you got like this.

A screaming match about how stupid and careless he was being, pushing and shoving him against the door while you stabbed your finger in his chest before you could do anything but cry as he held you.

And he would hold you so tightly that you could barely breathe, but it felt like Heaven.

Whispering “What would you do if I just left like that?”

He would move your head from his chest, using his thumb to ghost over your lips.

All it took was the one touch and he’d have you crumbling before him.

He could make everything better with his touch, all the displaced anger and frustration would melt away.

You loved him, so deeply it hurt.

You weren’t prepared for what this mission would bring, and it terrified you to think about it.

Regardless, you were prepared to worship this love.

a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

#teentvimagines #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #miles teller #miles teller top gun

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messers-moony · 3 years

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One in the Same | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: Reader notices Draco going through the same pain as her ex lover and desperately wants fix her faults.

“Mr.Malfoy, can you stay after class, please?”

“‘Course, Professor Black.”

An average day in second year. Professor Black - Y/n - taught History of Magic after Professor Binns decided his time was up. Too long of teaching sleeping students who could care less about his lessons. However, once Y/n took over the position, kid's grades improved and people were no longer sleeping. She made things fun and inventive.

After class time was up, everyone filed out of the classroom aside from the blond Slytherin boy. Draco has always been on the good side of Professor Black. She was always extremely kind to him despite his rather sour attitude at times. But Draco was always hesitant to initiate a conversation to really speak his feelings to her. But this was the first time she had him stay after class.

Y/n pulled out the chair in front of her desk as he sat down. His white-blond hair and gleaming blue eyes. His young face, not yet defined. Y/n with her h/c hair and curious glinted e/c eyes.

“Draco, I want to start this by saying I don’t know what your home life is like.” Y/n began, “I went to Hogwarts with your parents, though, and he wasn’t always kind. Your mother was cordial with me, though.”

“If you don’t find me intruding, what’s your home life like?”

“I- Um- It’s good.” Stammered Draco, “Father and Mother are always kind.”

Y/n’s eyes glinted with curiosity, “Lucius tolerated me.”

“Tolerated you?”

“I married one of his best friends.” Y/n chuckled, “He didn’t have a choice.”

Draco tilted his head, “Sirius?”

“Oh heavens no!” Y/n exclaimed, “Regulus. Sirius Black's brother.”

“My- My dead cousin?” He queried.

She nodded, “Yes. I married Regulus right after graduation. His parents weren’t thrilled, but he loved me so, here we are.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What were his parents like?”

“Horrible. The worst.” Y/n spat, “Sirius got the worst of it, but Regulus did occasionally too.”

“Walburga and Orion were awful. Using the crucio curse is not a great punishment for kids.” Draco’s eyes widened, “Both of them had scars from the curse. Sirius ran away at sixteen, and Regulus was used as their puppet. So used that at the age of eighteen, he felt like he had to prove himself. Which inevitably got him killed.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“Well, would you like my honest answer or my Professor answer?”

“Honest, please.”

“Between you and I, I still haven’t gotten over it.” Y/n shrugged, “I see something that reminds me of him, and I’m back at the start all over again. It takes time, and it’s taken plenty of time, but here I am, doing what I love. Teaching kids.”

“Anyways.” Y/n smiled, “You’re dismissed. I’m sorry I took up your time. However, if you ever feel the need to speak with me, let me know. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Draco picked up his bag, rustling as he stood up. The blond boy was still digesting all the information he gained. He couldn’t believe that his cousins got the crucio curse for a punishment. He thought his parents were bad. Theirs was way worse. Draco was about to walk out of the classroom but turned last minute to look at his Professor.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Draco?”

“There’s-“ He swallowed, “There’s a Quidditch match this Saturday. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. If you have the time, I’d like you to come.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.” Y/n smiled.

He walked out of the room without a second stop. He felt better about himself now. He had someone who genuinely seemed to care about him. Draco didn’t trust her just yet, but he wouldn’t be opposed to speaking with her as he had just now in the future. Professor Black had always been open and honest with her students. Perhaps that’s why kids liked her so much.

Saturday arrived quicker than Y/n would’ve hoped for one reason. She, herself, didn’t own any Slytherin-colored merchandise anymore. But there was a box in her quarters that she brought with her to Hogwarts every year. Regulus’s old clothes meaning all his scarfs, ties, button-ups, pants, hats, etc. Y/n couldn’t seem to get rid of them. Frankly, she didn’t want to get rid of them either.

Carefully she pulled the cardboard box from the top of her closet. Taking a pair of scissors and breaking the tape seal she had put on it multiple years ago. Inside laid many pieces of the evergreen and silver cloth. Y/n’s hands gravitated to the green and silver scarf. Bringing it to her nose, she was shocked. It still smelt like him. Godric, this was going to be more challenging than she initially thought.

Nonetheless, she put it around her neck along with her button-up and tight-fit pants. Y/n put on the green gloves, much too big for her but had fit Regulus perfectly, the tie, and the scarf. It brought her a sense of nostalgia. It made Y/n feel like she was a fifth-year going out with Regulus on a date to Hogsmeade. But she wasn’t fifteen or in fifth year. Y/n was a Professor and a full-grown adult. And Regulus was dead.

The game was going well for Slytherin at the beginning. But like most Quidditch games, things can change rather quickly. Ravenclaw was studious. That was for sure. They played skillfully. Y/n sat in the Professor stands with the rest of her colleagues. She sat between McGonagall and Flitwick. But white-blond hair caught her attention in front of her. Lucius Malfoy was here spectating his son.

McGonagall nudged her, “Where’d you get the Slytherin gear?”

“Regulus.”

“How have you been, dear?” McGonagall questioned softly, “It’s been a whirlwind, but nothing I can do will bring him back, so ‘m still here for him. It’s what he would’ve wanted.” Y/n replied.

Minerva placed a hand on the girl's knee, “If you need anything, let me know.”

“‘Course, Professor.”

The game ended tragically. Slytherin had just tied the game when Cho Chang had caught sight of the snitch. Sadly, she was able to grasp it before Draco. Leaving Slytherin with two-hundred and thirty points while Ravenclaw ended with three-hundred and eighty points. Lucius seemed furious with this conclusion and stormed off the stands. Y/n knew something was up, so she followed him.

She came up in a deserted hallway in Hogwarts. Draco stood - now changed into the usual Hogwarts robes - and his father stood before him. From the view she had, Draco’s back was to her, and his father was towering over the boy.

Lucius had a cold and icy voice, “You are insufferable!”

“You had one job, Draco! One! Catch the damn snitch.” He scolded, “Perhaps you were too daft to figure that out?”

“‘M sorry, father. I didn’t mean to. Honest.” Draco was pleading and begging for mercy; it made Y/n’s heartache at the familiar words.

“Mum, Dad, I seriously didn’t mean to!” Regulus had cried after breaking a vase, “Excuses, excuses, they won’t get you anywhere in life, boy!” Orion shouted.

Tears collected in his silver eyes, “‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!”

Walburga pointed her wand at him, “Crucio.”

Lucius scoffed, “Malfoy’s don’t cry, wipe those tears.”

“Should‘ve sent you to Durmstrang. You come to Hogwarts and forget everything I’ve ever taught you.”

“Father, I really didn’t mean to! She just got there faster than me.” Draco begged.

Y/n saw it before Draco did. Lucius raised his palm slowly, and Draco flinched. Y/n saw the pale hand rise into the air, and without a second thought, she ran in front of the young boy, taking the blow that was meant for Lucius’ son. Draco heard the sound but never felt the impact. Carefully he opened his eyes to see Professor Black standing in front of him, a hand on her cheek.

“How dare you get in the way!” Lucius yelled, “How dare I? How dare you for trying to leave a hand on your son!” Y/n retorted her bright cheek red from impact.

Draco was appalled, “Draco is your son! Not a toy or a puppet, and I will not stand for this!”

“You don’t have to, half breed.” Lucius seethed, “As you said, he’s my son. Not yours.”

“I could give less fucks!” Y/n exclaimed, “Draco is my student. I will not be having you lay your hands on my students.”

Lucius scoffed, “Where’s your child, mm?”

“Right, you don’t have one.” Lucius answered, “Because your blood-traitor of a husband decided to get himself killed!”

“Regulus was not a blood-traitor for trying to right his wrongs!”

“Regulus and Sirius were no different from each other.”

“Leave them out of this!”

“Oh, so it’s still a soft spot for you?”

“So help me, I’ll-“

“Petrificus Totalus.” Draco stated while holding his wand, causing his father to fall to the ground, paralyzed.

Y/n stared at the body in shock, “Draco.”

She didn’t even have time to reprimand him before he burst into tears. Y/n turned quickly and embraced him into a much-needed hug while the boy sobbed on her shoulder. Y/n’s hands went through Draco’s white-blond hair gently while he let every emotion out. She pulled away and wiped the tears on his cheeks.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Y/n informed, and Draco nodded, “Th- Thank you, Professor.”

Y/n smiled and sent him off to the Slytherin common room, leaving her to deal with Lucius. The Professor dragged him to Madam Pomfrey to deal with. Later that night, in her quarters, while brushing her teeth, she noticed the considerable bruise covering her left cheek: Blue and purple hues mixed to create a dark blue-violet looking color, almost grey.

Sixth year was now here. Y/n’s fourth year of teaching at Hogwarts, and she couldn’t have asked for a better job. On September 1st, she went through the floo-network to arrive in her teacher's quarters. Looking at the time, it seemed that students were just about reaching onto the grounds when a knock sounded at her door.

“Come in!”

A blond boy, much taller, defined face, and grey eyes had just walked into her teacher's quarters, “Good evening, Professor.”

“Good evening, Draco.” Y/n greeted smiling brightly, “What's on your mind, sweetheart?”

Draco didn’t know where to begin as water collected on his lower lash line, and gently he pulled up his left sleeve. Godric, it felt like deva Vu all over again.

“Y- Y/n.” Regulus called through his tears, “What’s wrong, baby?” Y/n asked, sitting beside him on the four-poster bed.

Regulus couldn’t help the tears that helplessly fell down his cheeks. His eyes were silver and blurred. Cheeks flushed and hair knotted. This past summer had been a shit show for him with Sirius running away and just everything that had gone on. Regulus had never felt this hopeless before.

“I- I need your help.”

“Of course, anything, baby.”

He swallowed, “Just know that I’ll love you forever. Okay?”

“‘Course.”

Gently, he released a breath of air and pulled up his left sleeve. The combined snake and skull only meaning one thing. Regulus was now a death eater to the Dark Lord. Tears sprung in Y/n’s eyes but not because of disappointment but because of worry. She didn’t know what she would do if Regulus were to be gone.

“They forced me!” Regulus pleaded, “Please, please don’t leave me.”

Regulus was weeping, and Y/n took him into her arms, “Shh, shh, I’m not disappointed. I’m just worried about you.”

“I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna do this.” Regulus whimpered, “Please help me.”

“I’m gonna help you ‘m love. Don’t worry.”

“What happened this summer?” Y/n asked as Draco pulled back down his sleeve.

“Auntie Bella.”

Draco was trying so hard to swallow his tears as his Professor was now face to face with him, “Draco.”

How was her voice so sweet and calm, almost like she had done this before, “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s being human. Let it go, darling.”

Just like that, the dam broke, and Draco was a sobbing mess again. How was it that Professor Black had always managed to feel more like home than his actual parents? What had his mum done for him while Bellatrix was giving him the mark? She had just stood there watching pain contort on his face. Y/n felt more like a mother to him, more like family to him.

“Shh. Shh. You’re safe here, Draco.”

“They- They want me-“ He was choking on his words, and Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders, “Take deep breaths and then explain. Okay?”

He began to inhale and exhale air at a slow pace, “They want me to-“ Draco swallowed, “They want me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Okay.” Y/n stated, letting out a breath of air, “You and I will get through this.”

“You- You promise?”

“I promise.”

Perhaps it was instinct now for Draco to stay after in her classroom. After every lesson, Draco would visit her in her classroom just to be in her company or to talk. What was it about Y/n that drew these people close to her? Ones with broken souls who believed that couldn’t be helped. Was it her kindness? Perhaps it was her caring nature—too many variables to pinpoint.

The moment Y/n heard crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, she knew something was wrong. Approaching cautiously, she saw Harry Potter doing the same behind Draco, who stood facing the basin, dried tears on his cheeks. Everything happened too fast for Y/n to understand. But when Harry spoke an incantation that left Draco bleeding out on the floor, everything changed.

She was jumping into action hastily, falling to her knees beside the blond-haired boy while Harry was almost in tears at his mistake. Y/n took her wand out and began muttering spells to heal the boy's chest. Harry was now in a heap on the floor, tears filling his glorious emerald eyes while the Professor took care of his harm. It took ten minutes before the bleeding stopped, and Y/n turned to face Harry.

“Harry.”

“‘M sorry. I- I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad I was here.” Y/n replied, and Harry looked like a mess, “I need you to go to the Gryffindor tower and not speak of this to anyone, okay?”

He nodded and stood up sluggishly. Harry left the bathroom, leaving Y/n with an unconscious Draco. Sighing heavily, she picked up the boy and lugged him to the hospital wing, where he was taken care of. The following day an owl was pecking at Y/n’s window, leading her to wake up and take the note from the owl’s foot.

“Draco won’t stop calling for you.”

Y/n freshened up, brushing her teeth, hair, and a change of clothes before making her way to the Hospital Wing. It was quite a ways away from. Her section of the school, but if Draco needed her, she needed to be there even if it was six o’clock in the morning. Her shoes made a light tap along with the wood as she walked and hesitantly opened the big door to the infirmary.

“Oh, thank Merlin!” Madam Pomfrey said with her hand over her heart, “Draco has been asking for you, my dear.”

She gave a tiny smile as Pomfrey pointed to where Draco was lying. Carefully she stripped back some of the white curtain and pulled a chair beside his bed. Y/n took his hand in his. It was cold and pale. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine holding Regulus’ hand in the same exact way after a horrible Bludger accident.

An hour later, Draco finally woke up, “Mornin’ sweetheart.”

“Professor, you- you came.”

She smiled, “You called for me, of course, I’d come.”

Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position, his grey eyes locked on her warm e/c ones, “Sorry, I just, didn’t expect you to come.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel okay. Little sore but nothing I haven’t been through.”

Y/n smiled sadly, “I knew a boy just like you, you know?”

“You did?” Draco asked, and she nodded, “I did.”

“Could you tell me about him?”

“Well, he was strong, smart, and closed off. His home life wasn’t too great either and was forced into being what his parents were too.” Draco looked eager for more, “Eventually, he realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. He no longer cared about his parent's approval. He just wanted to be him, but by then, it was too late.”

“Too late?”

She nodded, “He was already in too late, so he did the only thing he thought of. Betraying his parents, his family. He was so caught up in what he was doing he didn’t realize what he was doing, and now, because of that, he’s no longer with us.”

“But you aren’t too late, Draco.” Y/n stressed, tightening her grip on his hand, “Let me save you. Let me help you.”

Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes, “Please.”

Y/n took him in her arms and rubbed his back soothingly, “You aren’t alone. I’m here for you.”

It took months, but everything was over. It felt like time had stopped. Y/n could remember the terror standing outside of Hogwarts as the death eaters stood on the other side. Narcissa was calling for him - the boy who had no choice - and Draco was panicking as Lucius began calling his name.

Draco swallowed and shook his head.

It was the feeling of relief that brought Y/n solace. Draco took the step that Regulus took, and she would make sure he didn’t pay for it. The relief felt like a breath of fresh air now that the war was over. Y/n had stepped into the Great Hall panicking, hoping, praying that he was okay. At that moment she saw it.

He was crouched in the corner. People were glaring at him all around. Draco saw. He saw the Weasleys crying over Fred. He saw Harry look empty, staring at Remus Lupin and Nymphadora. The way Lavender Brown’s parents sobbed over her dead body. He saw the way Dennis Creevey was yelling and screaming in pain at seeing his deceased older brother. Draco could remember how close they were.

Nonetheless, he stood up and ran into her arms: his solace, home, and safe place. Draco couldn’t remember what it felt like to be held this tight. He dug his nose into her neck and just remembered to breathe. She pulled away to see a small smile playing on his lips. Y/n cupped his cheeks gently.

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Y/n smiled, “I can't explain how proud I am of you. You did it.”

Draco smiled and leaned into her hands, “Thanks, mum.”

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