#why do i have mush instead of a brain and fear instead of. idk. not fear

[ghostofasecretary]

okay okay okay FINE

it would be great to continue burying my feelings in busywork but we *are on a time limit*

i don't. want to do this.

i don't want to apply again! i don't want to deal with rejection or bad offers again! and it'll be so exhausting!!

and. i mean. i'm so scared of things going well also. because then i have to--to take my newfound not-resilience, my lowered tolerance for personal suffering, and my desire to enjoy my life, and marry that into schoolwork. i feel like i am less curious and more content these days and i don't *like* it and most of it is due to pain making me smaller, not an ambition or desire to have day after day fade into monotony punctuated by my three hobbies and, sometimes, my friends. ...that's a little ungenerous to me, i have maybe five hobbies. and also lots of chores.

but i'm.

i'm *doing bad.*

okay, that horrible annoying prompt, you know the one. imagine a future where you are happy.

i'm married to someone i really like and i come home to them and we're easy with each other and they like my food and do the dishes for me and we have nice sex. i read a lot. i translate poetry. i have enough nice walks and museum time and music and interesting conversations that turning my stress into poetry is easy and i also figure out how to write poems when i'm happy. my friends are close by. i have delicious meals and a moderate amount of luxurious foods, things that are a Line Item on the budget and not just, y'know, beans and tomatoes and onions and [any leafy green]. i like getting dressed and i thrift/change out clothes more often than i do now. i do my [side gig] once or twice a month and the marketing is low effort and the work is fulfilling. i teach. i read. i write. i figure out what help other people can give me and i ask for it and i keep in practice so i don't pause when it's crunch time. i have enough money that i don't worry about being unemployed for two or three months and i have enough income not to worry about rent and i save for retirement. i travel to see friends an extravagant two or three times a year (but just once or twice would be okay, too). i go a few years without something deeply wounding me so i have more of a cushion when the next crisis hits. i'm not afraid of being happy or of wanting things. i present information to people semi-regularly and practice and learn to work different kinds of crowds. maybe i try music, or comedy, or gardening, or rowing. i dunno. i'm practiced at practicing my languages and i have fun with it and i *let* myself have fun with it. i don't flinch from texts and emails. i go to bed and i wake up early feeling rested and i have really satisfying breakfasts, preferably with company.

it's embarassing to want to be married. like i know it's normal, actually, but--ugh. really? me? unfortunately: yes, really me.

the thing is, if i were married and had more money and did more [side gig] and didn't flinch from emails and had fun with *the thing i deeply love actually when i'm not running from it, why do i DO THAT* this would be pretty close to my current life.

so. like. if i were happier and more stable i would be happier and more stable. cool. what was i wanting to get from this, again?

reasons to apply to grad school.

1. you'd be good at it. it's really fun and satisfying to do things you're good at.

2. there are worse ways to start a career where you write and teach and translate poetry than getting a PhD.

3. dating feels completely unmanageable right now because where is my life even GOING, where might i even LIVE, it's unbearably hard to imagine looking for someone to build a life with when i have, like, [actual career path that takes years to build and a lot of grit and LUCK] hovering over me on one end and [idk being a human somehow?????] on the other and i don't know which one i'll pick. or have put in front of me to walk down. or whatever. i'd like to be committed to trying to be an academic or committed to simply Not doing that, before...before.

4. [sunk cost factory so many hours can't stop now]

okay. and reasons not to apply?

1. it's expensive and i don't qualify for any fee waivers and i REALLY TRULY do not have money to burn right now. it's not *dire* but i am, like, next month heading towards a worse financial state than i've been in since i was 15. 18 at latest. and that's *scary.*

2. grief! fuck it! sorry i have emotions but it was kind of crushing in 21-22 to have everyone be like "oh yeah you'd be great at this you'll have your pick you have a very bright future" and then not get in, and last year to have "wow yes we love you please come to our schools" and not get enough funding to *go,* and so much of 2023 was just. waiting. screw that, so much of THIS YEAR was waiting. my whole summer job i told people i was going off to do my MA because at the time of my interview i really really really thought i would still get funding and, hahahaha, nope. and i didn't want to tell people because they'd be weird about it. so instead i was weird about it and felt bad and feel bad. someone smarter than me can probably tell me how i could've sliced that one better but i'm just crying on my housemate's downstairs couch because it feels pretty bad to have hope crushed like that.

also typing this out i DO feel like an entitled prick. sorry. i'm just privileged and lucky and beautiful and smart and ~special~ and a depressed little guy who's had PTSD on two separate occasions, minimum, and is more functional but still pretty fucked up. like all the time.

3. i burnt myself on purpose for spite and justice and no real gain whatsoever, at my first job out of college, and it was an experience and i learned things and one of the things i learned is that it SUCKS and i DON'T WANT TO DO IT AGAIN. and doing a PhD is, like. notoriously "this is a bad experience that makes you crazy." documentably a bad experience that makes people crazy. actually.

and what if i drop out?

then you drop out and find a way to move forward. both your parents did. your uncle did. plenty of people you know dropped out of college or MAs or PhDs. life doesn't end. maybe some people's hopes are disappointed but that's a them problem. your own hopes are disappointed but not trying at all because you're scared you'll fail is. Not a great look?? not something i want to do, particularly.

what if i have a psychotic break (again)?

then you drop out. or take a leave of absence. and either it'll go away or it won't and you'll deal.

yeah but i really don't want to be more disabled.

then drop out before your mental health gets that far down the drain. you were suicidally depressed and mega traumatized for *years* before those two scary weeks in high school, and after the first few hours you basically knew what was happening even if you didn't believe it, and regular degular antidepressants fixed it. you haven't *been* regularly suicidally depressed in years. a bit during The Dog Incident and a bit when you raised your med dosage too high in 2023 and a bit this summer and a bit lately, but not very much. there's a difference between "panic what feels like every day and wanting to die, like, once an hour" and "eating three meals a day, procrastinating, and going 'ugh i wish i were dead' when something especially stressful comes up." not saying it's not on the same spectrum but it is a light to dark scale and you know where the divisions are. and neither of those are "having Stress Pain and chanting "kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me i want to die i want to die i want to die" constantly and especially loudly when you have to walk up the stairs or eat food." which, again: has not really happened ever since you got on antidepressants.

4. ...it feels really bad and embarassing right now because i'm *behind* and i don't have a lot of academic curiosity right now and i haven't written in forever and i don't like putting words on a page and i have to look these people in the FACE and tell them i'm qualified when i Cold Lasagna Hate Myself 1989! i'm not! up for this! i'm gonna have to drag myself over hot coals and stay up late! and how do i expect to do grad school if this one little thing is making me throw such a giant fit!!!!

hi. oh my god.

babe.

give yourself a hug. literally visit a friend and get a hug if you must. rudely invite yourself to someone's house for emotional support. whatever. i don't care. holy shit.

it is, according to the calculus by which i have always made decisions, okay to feel like HOT GARBAGE while you do things as long as you get them done. you can yell! you can say you're awful, just the worst piece of shit, how dare you exist all you want! "feeling bad in the short term is okay if you feel good in the long term" is not a great life philosophy when applied over *months and months and years and years,* i grant you. but i do not think "twelve hours, tomorrow" is the same thing.

and you can have your friends take you out for ice cream once you get it done.

and this week you'll go teach first and second graders for the first time ever, and prepare some poetry and translations, and fuck up your homework, and probably fail to feel good about your life, but it will be YOUR LIFE. WHICH YOU'VE DECIDED TO LIVE. EVEN IN YOUR DREADFUL BACHELOR STATE OH MY GOD WHAT IS W I T H MY DREAMS

so. go text your IRL friends.

done.

congrats. you have Asked For Help. if your IRL friends cannot provide ask T and then D and then C and then G/E. or a group chat. you never know.

maybe also. call your mom and make a plan. she's probably free.

okay. cool. have Had Some Feelings. seems better. than what i have been doing. go me

go take outfit photos and make apple cider and go to bed

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our time chapter 4 (The sheer amount of times I’ve had to scream into my pillow to make it through this chapter is kind of ridiculous tbh, but it’s fine. Pure enjoyment 😭🫶🏻):

“You don’t know what it’s uh, what it’s like to live with me so we should probably not jump into that yet.”

I think the above quote confirms my suspicions 😭😭 I don’t even remember that line from my first read through but that’s probably just bc my un-observant reader-brain was like “huh okay *forgets it two seconds later*”. I believe he’s talking about his alcoholism (I’m not saying it’s confirmed bc miss Brinny doesn’t confirm it in the warnings for chapter 6, but yeah)? My guess it that this was the biggest reason why they were rocky even before Nabi or Haru’s kidnapping

Jungkook said something about them (he & Y/N) being together, which further proves that he and his and OC’s parents are hoping they’ll get back together.

Jungkook’s hesitation to get with Y/N physically despite how bad they both want to, makes a lot more sense now, as well. We can assume that he’s more against it because of the fact that they’re divorced and technically not together (plus they haven’t been talking), and not only because he’s worried she’ll get overwhelmed, though I’m sure it’s a factor. I wonder if Jungkook assumed she was overwhelmed about their marriage because he suspected she remembered something relating back to his drinking? Or something along those lines.

Pingsu. Pingsu, Pingsu, Pingsu. This cat is important, for whatever reason. I think, anyway, since he(?)’s one of the only things OC remembers from before the amnesia. Maybe something happened around this time (relating to JK and Y/N’s marriage? Since JK said they had only been married a few years at that point) after JK’s mom got Pingsu that engrained his presence into her mind? That or her brain was like “yeah you love this cat he isn’t a threat all good”, idk.

I wonder if the shadow she (the OC) remembered seeing/ saw by the window in this chapter was the person who kidnapped Haru? Like maybe they scouted out the area before kidnapping him and Y/N remembers something like that? Or, whoever this person was, he was after either JK or Y/N, because of Jungkook’s case. I’m not entirely sure.

I forgot to mention this, but in I think it’s chapter 2, Jungkook mentions how one of Y/N’s favorite animals is the koala, and I’m pretty sure that had something to do with Haru, as well. Maybe his favorite animal was a koala, or he was clingy and that reminded her of koalas.

Pretty much sums up my thoughts this chapter. I have the inkling suspicion I missed something, tbh. I’ve been doing these right after each other, so I might be mushing chapters together in my brain, or I might just miss things because I forgot about them by the end of the chapter.

Again; bad memory lol.

P.s: I really love the way you write your dialogue especially, I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but you really know how to insert emotion into dialogue and it’s wonderful!

🤍🤍🤍

chapter 4:

1. so that line has multiple purposes :) yes it can be used solely for his fear that she will know he has a problem with drinking and his whole home life is a mess but also, him being nervous because it’s also a lie—because she does know what it’s like she just doesn’t remember

2. yn’s and jungkooks parents (we will meet them soon) all want them together because they hate seeing they’re children cope with the possible death of their own child suffer all by themselves:/ instead of at least leaning on one another

3. yes jungkook is very against doing anything physical with her because of the current circumstances. he struggled and felt weak giving in to her so easily (in his eyes) because he does love her but he also knows how wrong it would be

4. pingu was used to show she does have her memories tucked away in there and how she could remember a cat but not her son—that’ll get touched on more too later

5. the shadow, another mystery like the lake and the boat. unfortunately yn isn’t sure if the shadow was her imagination, a memory or if it happened in that moment

6. it’ll get confirmed later but a pretty good guess so yes 🥰 she will make that realization herself soon too

thank you!!!! dialogue is my favorite part to write so 🥺 <3

[crystaldahlias]

What Comes After Madness and Fear?

Just a short fic really, because I’m supposed to be asleep and I am tired, but like I just got new prescription glasses, and they have made me v dizzy. Like, it’s being tired but not. Idk. This is like a mess, so yeah...

Anyway, just an exploration of Fundy, especially adding with the idea that he doesn’t have Yogurt here because this is supposed to be a villain Fundy fic. Because I just want him to go feral, pls.

Sorry also if this feels not “my vibe” or something. I was tired when I wrote this, and my brain is essentially mush if I’m tired and we just got back from a long trip and again with the whole prescription glasses (I have had the same prescription for like two to three years so adjusting to the new ones gave me a bad headache).

But yeah, trigger warning: apathy, comparisons with Wilbur and his death, and character slowly becoming a villain... er, okay, I do not feel comfortable really calling this a villain fic because quite frankly, Fundy needs therapy. So not exactly a villain fic... but he is becoming apathetic... so...

Also, note, this is written under the POV of c!Fundy. So if Wilbur is painted in a bad light here, that’s because it’s in a character POV.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36360613

Fundy feels the warmth, and thinks that Wilbur had been right all those years ago.

When Wilbur had asked his own father to kill him, maybe he had been right, at least Fundy saw why now.

He thought he could be better.

But now, standing in the wreckage of his home, burning to ash right before his very eyes, he thinks that he never really moved away from his father’s shadow after all.

So, yes, Wilbur had been right.

He thinks of his dad now, as he stands before the crater of his home, and wonders if this was supposed to feel euphoric.

Wilbur had been happy those last few moments, he thinks.

Then again, he’d lost his mind a long time ago. It was Doomsday when he’d given into the madness and taken the so few items that New L’Manburg had.

He’d had his fit, he was done with madness.

But what came after madness?

Fear.

His nightmares had haunted him. They still do, in a way.

He holds out his hands to the fire, feels their warmth against his skin.

All he can think about now is sleep.

What comes after fear?

Apathy?

Maybe.

His dad had been right to leave when he had.

Why stick around for emptiness to come in?

To seep away any trace of manic joy or panicked realization that had filled the heavy emptiness in their heart?

Fundy feels empty now.

No.

All Fundy wants to do right now is to curl up near his home, and hope the flames spared him another day.

And so, he does.

---

He thinks he should feel something when he sees Wilbur.

Fundy is aware it’s too late to feel anything other than envy.

It was the second emotion he’d felt after he’d burned his own house down.

The first had been gratitude that Quackity had found him, taken him in when he had been lost, unaware of what to do after what he’d done. He had given a home in a land filled with light. Had given him a role that he had gladly taken on.

At least the nightmares had grown to be useful.

He didn’t care for them anymore, they’d long since sucked away any fear that he could feel.

Besides, the pay was worth a few hours of dreams.

Seeing Wilbur now though, he was envious of how happy Wilbur seemed to be.

He’d touched Fundy’s shoulders, a wide grin on his face that Fundy just wanted to burn right off.

Wouldn’t be the first time he’d burned something of Wilbur’s.

His dad holds him, tells him he’s sorry.

He feels a third emotion bubble up in him.

Amusement? Pity?

He can’t say.

Instead, Fundy pushes Wilbur away. This time, sure of himself.

And for the first time, he feels the sun on his face. Wilbur’s shadow no longer shielded him.

The smile falls from his dad’s face.

He lets one form on his.

He tugs the black hood over his face, eyes glowing yellow despite the warm sunlight that illuminated them both.

This purpose, an Oracle’s purpose, was his own.

Not one paved by Wilbur.

No, this was his path.

He mimics Wilbur’s movements, placing his hands upon the man’s shoulders.

Fundy leans closely, words a whisper against the wind.

“I am free of you and your choices.” He pauses, “As you have been freed from mine a long time ago.”

He should feel something.

But then again, what was there to feel that he hadn’t felt before?

They’d been in this dance before.

With Wilbur letting his hand go no matter how desperate he’d tried to reach for him.

Now Wilbur was reaching for him.

Fundy felt nothing.

He let the man’s shoulders go, breathing at last.

“Goodbye.”

But maybe

Maybe he’d severed himself just a little bit too late.

Oh, well.

At least he was free.

Unaware of the new chains that bound him to the city of greed and to a man who thought he could have everything, but really gained nothing.

Or maybe.

He was just too tired to care anymore.

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Get Me To Church, I’ve Done So Many Bad Things It Hurts

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: you guys, idk what this is. I only know it’s not what I initially planned. Title is from Sinéad O’Connor’s song “Take Me To Church”, which hijacked this story’s initial plot. It reminds me of Wilhemina, and it’s a very good song <3

Word count: ~ 5 400

Your brain no longer was a brain but fucking mush. Mush that stunk and made one want to throw up at first sight. You had not been able to get a good night’s sleep since you had been sent to Outpost 3 a few months ago. You were running on a few hours of rest snatched here and there and on the disgusting, weird food cubes. At this point, when someone talked to you, you would gap at them until your brain suddenly gave a start and registered their words. Your body felt twice its weight. It was hard to concentrate, hard to think.

Days went by looking exactly alike. You would get out of bed, meet the others, try to have a talk, listen to the same song over and over again. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Stare at a book maybe, open it, stare at a page, fail to understand a single sentence. You would wait for time to pass. Complain with Coco or Andre or that guy whose name you couldn’t remember even though you had been living together for months now. One day, Coco and you decided to exercise by running up and down a staircase, but you didn’t last more than five minutes before you dropped on the floor, panting. You didn’t try again. You lacked the motivation.

Sit at the table, eat your cube. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Go to bed. You were going crazy. You could no longer tell what was real and what was a figment of your imagination.

In truth, there was one thing at least you knew was real. The butterflies in your stomach every time Venable – freaking Venable, of all people – so much as walked into the room you were in.

It was terrible. Why her, why you, you did not know. The only thing you knew was that you were falling hard for her, for that sadistic, mean, scary woman.

In typical mush-brain fashion, you couldn’t string two sentences together when she would ask you a question and her dark eyes would bore into you. You would laugh stupidly or give one-word answers. You would trip over your own feet when you passed her in a corridor.

So, really, it wasn’t a surprise when you realized that she hated you even more than she seemed to hate the others. For starters, she never looked at you. When she did, her eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Icy winds and all that. And when she talked to you, her voice was always so condescending, so sarcastic, as if she knew you were the most idiotic idiot at the Outpost. She probably wondered every minute of every day why you had been chosen to survive. It was a mystery to you, too.

But then – but this was part of your imagination. It must be. There was no rational explanation. For the wistful look on her face you had caught a glimpse of, once, when you had turned and shot her a glance. She had been staring at you. Or for the faint blush that had risen to her cheeks when you had accidentally – accidentally? – brushed past her, way too close to her, on your hurried way to the bathroom. Or for that one time, that blissful, ethereal time – but that had been a dream, it must have been, you had passed out from exhaustion and dreamed – when she, coming out of her room, and you of yours, had paused with her hand on the doorknob, and raised her head, met your eyes, and smiled. Not her mocking, cruel smile. But a fond, almost shy smile. A genuine smile, reflected in her eyes. This you were sure you had dreamed. Were you?  

You were falling for her. Love, intimacy, would make things more tolerable. You craved a strong, true connection with someone, and part of you was convinced you could have it with her.

In the past few evenings Venable had made a habit of joining you in the music room as you whiled the time away before bed. She wouldn’t say anything, merely sit and read a book. The first time she had done it, you and the others had exchanged half surprised, half worried looks. What was she doing? Studying you? Deciding which one of you she would cook for dinner? You didn’t know. Her presence had made you all uncomfortable at first, but now you were used to it. You ignored her, just as she ignored you.

She always, always sat facing you.

And you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. Marvel at the beauty and neatness of her. Your eyes would travel down her body and the butterflies in your stomach would go wild and your head fill with want. For. Her.

Her eyes never met yours, not even once.  

One evening as you sat brooding and she sat reading facing you, and the others chatted about some boring things, and the music, the music went “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”, you abruptly jumped on your feet to stretch your upper body. The sudden movement surprised Venable, who looked up at you. You met her eyes and gave her a goofy smile. She scowled.

“In your mind you have capacities,” you heard yourself sing to the music.

“But do you, Y/N?” Venable sneered.

That shut you up. You straightened up and glared at her. “Do you have, like, a problem with me?” you asked in an annoyed voice.

“Do you mean apart from your obvious lack of brain cells?”

“Why are you always so mean?” you heard yourself whine.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Venable cooed. “Poor you. Look at you, standing among the few who have been allowed to survive the Apocalypse. Do you really think I should feel sorry for you?”

You considered that. “No,” you grumbled.

“No, Ms Venable.”

You didn’t know what came over you then. Probably it was a mix of exhaustion, anger, frustration and want. Your hands clenched into fists. In what was both the bravest and stupidest moment of your life, you retorted, “Bite me.”

Someone in the room gasped, and then chuckled. Venable’s eyes went wide with shock. Heat flooded your cheeks.

You were dead meat, you knew that. So really you couldn’t make things worse by adding: “I’m sorry. I meant, bite me, Ms Venable.”

Impressive. You were a genius. Gosh, you needed sleep.

You couldn’t meet Venable’s eyes. Instead you stared at Andre, who was gawping at you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Coco give you a thumbs-up. You smiled shyly at her.

“Right,” you said. “Um. Goodnight.”

You hurried out of the room before someone could call you back. Your heart was beating too fast in your chest, but you couldn’t really understand why. You needed sleep.

You closed the door of your bedroom behind you and collapsed on your bed.

**

You couldn’t sleep.

It was always the same: you were exhausted all day, but the minute your head touched your pillow, your brain roared back into life. Someone in your head turned the light on. You were wide awake.

You groaned and turned on the bed. You didn’t have the slightest idea what time it was or how long you had lain under the sheet. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been a century. You turned again, forced yourself to close your eyes.

Bite me, Ms Venable. Damn it, you were such a fool when you were exhausted! You had survived the bloody Apocalypse and now you were about to die for something so, so stupid. Venable was probably plotting your death right now. She would order you out of the Outpost and condemn you to a horrible death among the repugnant creatures that haunted the nuclear winter outside. In your current state, you wouldn’t last a day. You’d trip over something and break your neck or get stabbed by the first hungry person you’d meet.

Fear clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t feel like giving up on life yet. Even if the world as you had known it was gone, even if there was almost no hope of a bright, safe future. God, you wanted to live.

You sprang out of bed before you knew what you were doing and ran to the door. Locked it. Looked around the room for things to build a barricade with. The chair would do, and if you could move that huge chest of drawers –

You heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards you. And something else, unmistakable. The sound of a cane.

Shit. Your whole body froze with fear. Then your hand automatically reached for a decorative statuette close-by, that had sharp angles and that you could use as a weapon if need be. The footsteps grew louder and came to a halt at your door.

You waited, heart hammering in your chest. Venable must have a spare key, of course she must. You stared at the doorknob, expecting it to move, expecting the door to open, on Venable standing tall and threatening and radiating off anger and satisfaction. How so very beautiful she would look.

Nothing happened.

What was she doing? You couldn’t hear anything but the mad pounding of your heart. Had you imagined her footsteps? The sound of her cane? But you had been so sure –

One of your hands came up to press against the door. Fingers splayed out, palm pressing against the cold, hard surface. To try and feel her through the wood.

You waited. Your heartbeat was drumming against the wood. And it was slowing down, and your eyes were fluttering closed, for she was here – just behind the door, and you could almost see her, her eyes on the doorknob, the spare key in her hand, her lips slightly parted. It was as if your soul had connected with hers and now they were softly singing to each other.

There was a sound like a sigh. Before you knew it you had unlocked the door and opened it.

Venable stood in front of you with her left hand in the air, a few inches further to the left than yours had been. She met your eyes in surprise as her fingers curled up. She lowered her hand, and schooled her features.

You decided your safest option was to play it cool.

“I thought I heard a noise,” you said, assuming a casual expression.

“I was on my way to bed,” Venable answered. A pause. “I saw your light was on through the gap under your door.”

She didn’t sound particularly mad or threatening. Relief flooded your chest. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill you, after all. Maybe you’d been over-reacting.

Her eyes fell on the statuette you were still holding.

“What’s this?” she asked very slowly. Her eyes met yours again. They were dark, her eyes. The darkest eyes you had ever seen.

“What’s this?” she repeated, louder. You started.

“Oh, uh.” You raised the statuette to your chest and shrugged. Play it cool. “I don’t know why I’m holding this.” You tried to laugh. It came out nervous and foolish. “Must have been sleepwalking or something.”

Venable’s gaze was boring into you, piercing your skin, piercing your veins, piercing your bones. You felt too hot suddenly. You laughed again. Then it finally dawned on you.

“My light isn’t on,” you said.

You always kept one candle burning when you slept, but its light was very faint. There was no way Venable could have seen it from the lit corridor.

Her face didn’t change. “It’s not?” she said in a toneless voice.

You shook your head. “I’m afraid not.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin. Her grip on her cane tightened just so.

“Were you planning on attacking someone with this?” she asked, nodding at the statuette.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” you answered, holding her gaze.

“I cannot think of any other use you could have for it.”

“Well, maybe I was.”

“Has someone threatened you?”

You scoffed. Gave her a look as if to say the joke wasn’t good. She narrowed her eyes uncomprehendingly.  

“Um, let’s see.” You folded your arms as you pretended to think. The statuette dug in your chest. “Maybe I’ve gone just a little bit too far with someone who’s quite obsessed with hierarchy.”

A small, incredulous laugh escaped her.

“You thought I was going to –“She didn’t finish her sentence, her laugh lingering on her lips as the incredulity reached her eyes.    

“Well,” you retorted, leaning your hip against the doorframe, “you did have those two Greys shot the other day for making love.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “For breaking one of your rules. So excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly safe right now.”

The smile vanished from her face. She closed her mouth, stared at you. Your eyes shifted to her lips. Back up to her eyes. You licked your lips.

“I wouldn’t have you killed merely for being stupid,” she said after a short moment.

How were her cheekbones so sharp? Her eyes so dark? You swore whomever had made her was the most talented artist and the cruelest asshole in the whole goddamn universe. How many years it must have taken, how much sweat, how many skills, how much patience and love, to make her.

You cleared your throat. What had she just said? Called you stupid. Wouldn’t have you killed. Something like that. You couldn’t remember.

“My light wasn’t on,” you said mechanically, “so why did you stop at my door?”

If the question surprised or unsettled her, she didn’t show it.

“I thought it was on,” she answered without missing a beat. She paused. “You thought I was going to have you killed?”

“Um, maybe.”

Her eyes fell on the statuette again. When they met yours, you swore you saw something like sadness deep into the black. She blinked, and the sadness disappeared.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “You should go to bed.”

You realized you didn’t want her to go. What if you invited her to come in? What if you told her about your insomnia, and asked her to help you while the night away? Merely have a talk with her. Merely sit by her side, and watch her, and share secrets with her. Show her you weren’t as stupid as she must think you were. You could light dozens of candles and watch the light dance on her face. Have her relax, make her laugh. And maybe if things went well, at the break of dawn you could lay your head on her lap, and certainly then sleep would find you.

You assumed a nonchalant expression. “Well then, goodnight to you,” you said with a smile that hurt your mouth.

She nodded, turned and walked off.

You listened to her footsteps fade away. You let out a long, shaky breath, and closed your door.

For a very long time you stayed with your back against the door, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. The sadness you had seen in Venable’s eyes haunted you. You tried to think of something else. What you would do tomorrow. Boring. That summer holiday you had spent in Spain with your best-friend. Venable’s hair in the flickering light of the candles. Venable’s face. Venable’s eyes. How you absolutely adored the fact that she could stand up to anyone. Venable’s eyes. The sadness in her eyes.

You groaned. You had half a mind to bang your head on the door to knock yourself out and finally get some sleep. Perhaps you could go to Venable’s room and apologise. Tell her you hadn’t meant to question her authority. You’d like to see her again.

It was a stupid idea. Lack of sleep made you so, so stupid. She would be angry, would order you out, slam her door in your face, maybe hit you with her cane. You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You tip-toed down the corridor till you reached her door. It was slightly ajar, which surprised you. Heart beating fast, you opened it just enough to peek into the room.

Venable was sitting on the floor by the dark fireplace, her head bent, her hands joined on her lap. What was she doing on the floor? Surely the position couldn’t be good for her back. Then you noticed that her lips were moving, forming silent words, as if she were praying. Her eyes were closed.

The flickering light from the candles threw shadows on her face. Patches of black and red and orange vacillating and oscillating. Touching her face, fleeing to the walls. You watched her in silence, at a loss for what to do or what to think. You heard her sniffle, saw her raise a hand to wipe her cheek.

There was something so fragile about the scene in front of you. To see this woman who was always so proud, and so strong, and so dominating, murmuring silent words to herself on the floor in the dead of night. Or maybe those words weren’t for herself. Maybe they were addressed to someone else, whoever would listen, whoever would take the time to stop and lend an ear. Was she asking for strength? For mercy? Salvation? Her back was leaning slightly forward just like the backs of worshippers you had seen in churches.

Her lips stopped moving for a moment. She opened her eyes to stare unseeingly at the wall in front of her. You saw her bite her lower lip, saw her take a shaky breath. The silent murmuring started again.

You scratched your arm nervously. You knew you should leave, and erase from your mind this private moment you had no right to witness. Part of you felt like a thief. But your legs seemed to be frozen. You could not move them.

So you watched her. At one point she coughed softly, and the next two words came out loud enough for you to hear them: “Let me...”

Was she praying? You didn’t think she was a religious person. Why should she be? She had helped bring on the Apocalypse and had not received so much as a word of complaint from God. You squinted at her in the dim light, your body instinctively leaning towards her, your hands coming up to grip at the doorframe. Your heart was pushing against your ribs as if it wished to burst free from your chest and wrap around her.

Venable paused, sighed, went on murmuring. Once again her words reached you. “…soothe and let it save me so she can think it acceptable to love me.”

Your clammy palm slipped on the doorframe, unbalancing you. You gasped in a breath. Venable’s head jerked to the side. Her eyes locked with yours.

You could have screamed. Surprise then anger then fear flashed across Venable’s face as you took a step back, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you tried to find something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. For a moment there was only silence, and you and she holding each other’s gaze.

Venable’s face closed up. She stood up, supporting herself on her cane, so calm, so composed. It was impressive, the tight grip she kept on her emotions. Always so perfectly in control of herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a firm voice.  

“I –“you stuttered, “I – I’m sorry, I just – I, uh, saw your light was on.”

That was a risky answer, and you knew it. But today had been crazy, and any minute now Venable would unleash her wrath and it would destroy you. You had nothing left to lose. So you held her gaze, her inscrutable, unreadable gaze, admiring even now the flickers of candlelight that danced across the black.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you heard yourself say, your voice coming from far, far away. “I’ve not been able to sleep for quite a while. So I roam the corridors to try and distract myself, and I saw your light was on.” A pause. “What were you doing?”

Venable’s expression didn’t change. She took her time to answer, and you waited, waited for the inevitable anger, the inevitable punishment. You felt too distanced from yourself to be afraid.

“That is none of your business,” Venable said eventually. She turned away from you. “Go back to your room.”

That brought you back to yourself. Your soul crashed back into your body.

“Is that all?” you blurted out. “Go back to my room? Aren’t you going to, like,…” You didn’t finish your sentence, but she must have understood, because she turned to face you and shot you a somewhat outraged look.

“You seem so very certain I mean to hurt you,” she said sharply.

“Er, well.” You folded your arms on your chest and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “In the last few hours I disrespected you and burst into your privacy. And, no offence, but you don’t strike me as a kitten kind of person.”

“Kitten?” she repeated.

“Yeah, you know.” You brought a nervous hand up to scratch your head. “Fluffy and cute, cuddly and helpless.”

She stared at you as if you were stupid. “Kittens scratch you for no reason.”

“Yeah, but...”You shook your head at yourself.”Never mind, don’t mind me. I’m too exhausted to think straight.”

Long seconds passed. None of you moved. You both held your ground, staring at each other. Waiting.

Your mouth opened again. “I don’t know whether I should run away from you or towards you.”  

She didn’t react. Didn’t answer. She kept staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you repeated. “May I stay here and sleep with you?”

Her expression did shatter at that. She blinked in surprise, then in consternation.

“Uh, I mean, not like that,” you stammered. “I mean sleep as in actually sleep. Uh, get some shuteye.”

Venable let out another one of her small, incredulous laughs. “No, you may not,” she answered sharply.

“Right, of course. Stupid me.” You tried to laugh, ended up choking on your own spit.”Sorry. Uh, forget about all this.” You quickly turned to go.

“You need to get a grip on yourself,” came Venable’s voice. You stopped.

“Gosh, I know,” you breathed.”I’m sorry.” You waited. No reply came, so you started to walk away.

“I may have a few sleeping pills, if you think they can help,” Venable called after you.

You turned on your heel and rushed back into her room. “Yes, please, I’d be very grateful. Thank you.”

Venable nodded, walked into the ensuite bathroom. You heard the sound of a drawer opening, some fumbling, and then she was back into the room holding a small pill box.

She dropped one pill in your extended hand. “Try this tonight. I can give you more tomorrow if it works.”

“Thank you,” you breathed. Your fingers curled around the pill as her eyes bore into yours. You almost reached out to touch her cheek. Almost.

But then your breath hitched. For that was it, wasn’t it? Her punishment. Her revenge. You glanced down at the pill in your hand. Poison. It had to be.

You glanced back up at her, and your thoughts must have shown on your face, for her eyes momentarily glazed over with the same sadness as before.  

“This is hydroxyzine,” she snapped.

“Right,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

“Do you think some of my rules are too harsh?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked at her. “Well, I mean…” You paused a second, considering. You chose honesty.” Most of them are useful, I’ll give you that. But, Ms Venable, the copulation rule? People being shot for, what, loving each other? Finding comfort in each other?” You took one step towards her, growing irritated. “Those two Greys didn’t deserve death. They did nothing wrong. And what’s so bad about copulation, anyway? What’s so wrong with affection? Intimacy?”

You paused, waiting for her answer. Her eyes were very big and shining in the candlelight. They were different, now. It was that sadness again. She looked almost sad.

“Tell me, what’s wrong with this?” You reached out and laid the pad of your index on her right wrist. She tensed up, her hand tightening around the knob of her cane. Her eyes grew bigger still.

You swallowed, refusing to lower your gaze, as you slowly ran your finger down her hand, circled one of her knuckles, moved to the next. You could feel her shaking under your touch, her skin soft and hot.  

“This never hurt anyone,” you said softly. Her brow tightened, just so. She made as if to withdraw her hand from your touch. Your finger stuttered, your eyes questioning hers. Well, maybe affection had hurt her. Undoubtedly it had. You could read it in her eyes.  

You removed your hand, but she captured it in hers and brought it up close to her mouth.

“We cannot possibly take the risk of having to deal with a herd of babies, can we, Y/N?” she said very slowly. Her breath grazed your knuckles and sent a shiver down your spine. Her grip on your hand was strong.

“We can’t, Wilhemina,” you heard yourself say.

Wilhemina. How did you remember her Christian name? She had told it to you exactly once, on the day of your arrival at the Outpost. Months ago. And it wasn’t a very common name.

“But then again, Wilhemina,” you went on, “you and I would never have this problem.”

Venable brought your hand up to her mouth, her gaze burning into yours, and sank her teeth into your skin.

“Ow!” you yapped. “What the…”

She tightened her grip on your hand to hold it back. A smirk crept up her lips.

“Bite me,” she said, her mouth hot and damp against your skin. “That’s what you said. So, here.” She did let go of your hand, then. You held it protectively to your chest, smoothing it over your shirt. “Happy to oblige.” She turned away from you.

You watched her in consternation as she bent over her bed, apparently rearranging the pillows. Her teeth had left a row of white marks on your hand. A moment passed, until she straightened up and met your eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” she said, almost teasingly. And with that she sent you off.

**

“You’re still alive,” Coco said in surprise the morning after.

“You’re very observant,” you mumbled, slumping onto the chair next to her. You still felt a bit woolly because of the hydroxyzine. But at least you had slept.

“You’ve been observing our Earth”, sang the female voice from the radio.

“This song will drive me crazy,” you groaned. “Can’t we turn it off?”

“And we’d like to make a contact with you,” the voice retorted.

You straightened your shoulders as Venable walked into the room. Her gaze immediately fell on you. You held it, not sure what to think of the night before, her helping you, her biting you for God’s sake – mechanically you massaged the back of your hand where her teeth had sunk. And those words you had overhead. They had been addressed to someone else, but you couldn’t help but hope she had been talking about you.

You thought you saw something in her eyes, eagerness perhaps, as she walked towards you. She stopped in front of you and tapped her cane on the floor.

“Good-morning,” she said. You gave her a smile in answer, then lowered your eyes to study your nails. You could feel her gaze on your face.

“How did you sleep?” she went on in a casual voice that sounded just a tiny bit strained, as if she were uncomfortable or nervous.

You squinted at her, fighting back an amused smile. “I slept well, thank you.”

You were vaguely aware of the hush that had fallen upon the room. There was more to it, too, some sort of tension, expectant and apprehensive, a holding of one’s breath as one waits for something the nature of which one isn’t really certain of.

“We’ve been observing your Earth, and one night we’ll make a contact with you,” the robotic, distorted alien voice burst out.

“Good,” Venable answered. “I am glad to hear that.”

A pause. The pause stretched.

“Maybe now some of my brain cells will finally kick back into life, “you prompted.

Venable blinked. “We can only hope so,” she answered after a while.

The smile you had been holding back danced across your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Coco shoot you a perplexed look, saw her contort her face as if to ask, “what the hell is happening?”

Venable’s cane tapped on the floor. “Everyone, please,” she called, “I have an announcement to make. Some good news for you all.”

Excited whispers filled the room. You straightened in your seat. Venable waited until she had everyone’s attention, and then spoke with pride in her voice. “To renew with tradition and entertain you, we will now have board games nights. Whist, backgammon, chess.”

Was she… actually trying to be nice? Giving you all something to look forward to? A bit of fun, to help pass the time? You almost gawked at her.

She’s trying, a voice whispered in your head. What was it she had said? Make it acceptable to love her. You were vaguely aware of the tears that sprang to your eyes.

“Excuse me,” Coco blurted out, “I thought you’d said ‘good news’, not ‘you’re now officially living in a shitty Jane Austen novel’.”

Venable glared at her. You caught just a flash of pain in her eyes.  

“I think it’s a good idea,” you retorted before Venable had time to. “It’ll keep our minds distracted.”

“I don’t even know what whist and backgammon are,” said Andre. “And I’ve never played chess.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Venable sneered. “It will be the perfect opportunity to inject some knowledge into your vacuous brain.”

“Not as vacuous as that,” Andre retorted angrily, “seeing as you filled it with my boyfriend’s own brain.”

You had never seen Andre stand up to Venable before. Like the others, he had been too scared of her to dare contradict her. But now his voice was openly belligerent, his eyes shooting daggers at her, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair as if he were contemplating standing up. Something had changed, and it didn’t take you long to realize you were the cause. Or rather, Venable’s behavior to you. You had been insolent to her, and she had not punished you. She had not even verbally abused you.  

“What will it take,” Venable enunciated, “for you to finally understand me when I say that I did not feed you Stu?”

“Then where is he?” Andre growled, jumping to his feet, “And what was in the fucking stew?”

“Alright, okay, calm down,” you spoke, rising too, and holding out a hand in front of Andre. “I’ll teach you chess, okay? I know chess, I can teach you. Just, relax, man. Gosh.”

Andre glared at you. You raised your eyebrows at him. For a minute he stayed still, hands clenched into fists, and then he let out a breath and moved back to his chair.  

Coco threw her hands up in the air. “Board games nights it is,” she said sarcastically.

You turned to Venable. She was studying you, her expression strange, as if she could not quite decide between anger and gratefulness.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she said, her eyes locked with yours, “I do not need your help when it comes to dealing with idiots.”

You took your time to answer, to think of the right words to say. A smile crept up your lips again, and this time you let it.              

And you knew everyone in the room would be able to hear you. But you didn’t care. Blame it on the hydroxyzine. Blame it on the freaking interplanetary and most extraordinary occupants. The world had ended. You were exhausted. And you were falling for her.

When you spoke, your voice was a singsong, as insolent as it had been the evening before. “Why, fuck me, Ms Venable. I know that.”

[silkylious]

Safe (Kaminari Denki x Reader)

Warnings: slight angst/insecurities, comfort, fluff Pairing: kaminari denki x reader Prompt: #58 “You make me feel safe”

A/N: idk why but i hc that kaminari is actually very insecure but jokes around and shit as a coping mechanism. can you sense the self projection here. hope you enjoy this, it was very fun to write!

You sprung forward, eyes wide awake with alarm. Your mind struggled to catch up with your body; phantom sensations still lingering on your skin, static scenes of vibrant blue flames scorched into your brain as your heavy breaths died down into a slightly more regulated rhythm. This was the fifth time this week. It’s been two full months since the training camp, two full months since you’ve moved into the dorms and you still weren’t over it yet. The nightmares just wouldn’t stop.

You plopped back down on the mattress, exasperated and thoroughly annoyed at having your precious slumber cut short. Again. Honestly, for such a prestigious school, U.A. has probably the worst counseling team you’ve ever seen­– or haven’t seen, because despite several of your classmates showing painfully obvious signs of trauma, the school staff has barely stepped in. You huffed at the administration’s incompetence, turning on your side to glare at nothing in particular. A ping interrupted your train of thought, drawing your attention to the device laying on your nightstand. You snatched your phone, unlocking it and immediately squinting at the brightness before checking the time. Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who.

Pika pika⚡: [image] [image] [image]

some maymays for when you wake up 😌😌

You: they’re called memes ffs

Pika pika⚡: you’re awake??👀

You: no.

The message was left on seen, though the interface of the messaging up was replaced by that of an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile stretched your tired features at the picture of you and Kaminari grinning at the camera. You accepted the call.

“Why are you up?” His voice came through mildly distorted but still as loud as ever, too loud for three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t sleep,” Your answer was slightly muffled by a yawn, betraying just how exhausted you were. The silence that proceeded was deafening, neither of you uttering a word, but you could faintly hear his even breathing. It was oddly calming. You sigh, lids blinking to fight off your drowsiness.

“…You’re still having nightmares?” Words tinged with worry, his voice was much quieter now, gentler. If anything, Kaminari was a great friend. He’d proven that to you time and time again. He was the only one that could tell when you were drowning in hushed misery, seeing through your well-constructed front like it was second nature to him. For someone so astoundingly moronic, he was extremely socially intelligent, and even observant when he wanted to be. And for the umptieth time, he’s showing you just how easily he could pick up on the small traces of discomfort in your voice, the silent plea left unspoken from your lips.

“Yeah…” The reply didn’t come out as resolute as you’d wished it would have been. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how hard you willed yourself to level your tone in hopes of fending off his concerns, you knew it would all crumble at some point. Go figure your strong façade would fall apart in front of him. It’s always been him. For some reason unknown to you (yet), confiding in him just felt right, secure.

More silence ensued.

Denki was a natural at detecting people’s emotions, but that’s as far as his expertise would go. Sure, he knew how to encourage others, pushing them past their insecurities was as easy as breathing to him. With bright, golden hues and an obnoxiously dorky grin, all he had to do was utter a few optimistic words and that would get the job done. But comfort? Vulnerability? That was so far beyond the shallow waters he’d grown accustomed to. Sentimentalities weren’t his thing, he simply didn’t posses the wisdom and eloquence needed to deal with such situations. His immediate reaction would be to crack a joke, fruitless attempts at lightening the mood but he knew there was a time and place for jests, and this wasn’t one of them. Awkwardness and half-hearted jabs were his immediate reaction… because that’s how he dealt with his own problems too.

“Hey… can I come over? We can play animal crossing or something,” You sure as shit wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in this state. You needed a distraction. A friend.

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you even care if we got caught?”

A light chuckle. “No,”

“Exactly. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead, he stared at the blank screen of his phone before flopping onto his back. Why you’d be so open with him of all people when he saw just how uneasy around his other classmates, he didn’t know. The list of people he thought were more deserving of your trust was almost unending, and he wasn’t even close to the top of it. One thought brought forward another, each one getting progressively more deprecative, and the sloppily sewn patch over his self-doubt started to tear, ripped off its poorly embedded stitches. He was confident in himself, until he joined class 1-A that is. He just felt… there compared to his peers. His body was nothing to laugh at, but his build was still considerably lean compared to the people he was around. The fact that such a talented, hardworking person had taken interest in him was frankly baffling. He wasn’t as flashy as Todoroki, or as powerful as Bakugo, or as brainy as Midoriya. He was just him. Lackluster, average him. It only added insult to injury when he’d witnessed how they looked at you. They pined for you, and he couldn’t blame them. He craved you too. But god, the nagging thought that you were wasting your time hanging around someone like him, that he was stealing you away from people who were (in his opinion) glaringly more worthy of cherishing you than him, it just wouldn’t go away. You had so many stronger, smarter, better options out there that he couldn’t help but be reminded of how lacking– inadequate he was compared to seemingly everyone else. And yet you chose to get close to him. In a superhuman class full to the brim with prodigies and workaholics, you picked him. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

He was fished into reality and away from his sea of self-doubt when he heard three consecutive knocks on his door. Just how long had he laid there, wallowing?

The door creaked open and you were greeted with the glorious sight of Kaminari in a Pikachu onesie, a ruffled (adorable) tuft of electric, blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. You snorted.

“Nice pj’s,”

Denki blinked, looking down only to realize that he hadn’t changed out of his onesie because of his overthinking session. An embarrassed chuckle escaped him as he scratched at the side of his cheek, a lopsided smile and a cherry tint creeping up his complexion.

“What can I say, I always have to be on brand.”

You loved that about him. He seemed so laid-back, uncaring, willing to roll with whatever punches were thrown at him, playing off jocular comments and rude insults alike with practiced ease. Giggling past him, you situated on his bed, ready to forget about your nightmares and just have fun with your friend. And if Denki was a genius at anything, it was having fun.

Hours flew by at the pace of minutes, it was now six in the morning, the sun had begun to show its yellow glow and you’d spent the entirety of dawn kicking Kaminari’s butt at Mario kart, sharing laughs and fleeting touches. He liked this, you liked this. Despite knowing that he wasn’t by any means the best suitor for you, he couldn’t halt the need to monopolize you. How could he, when your very presence (unbeknownst to you) shoved his insecurities unceremoniously into the backseat in favor of enjoying the moment with you? He hadn’t a clue how you did it, but you always managed to shoo away his doubts just by being there, and he selfishly couldn’t (and wouldn’t) let go of that. You immersed him in riveting ventures of the now, miles and acres away from his overbearing thoughts. All without even trying, without even knowing it.

It was the weekend (thank fuck) and sleeping in sounded like heaven on earth right now. If it weren’t for your nightmares. The fear of recounting those horrid memories in horrific detail again barred your eyes from sleep, regardless of how spent you were. Apparently, Denki’s spidey-friendship senses kicked in again, because he immediately noticed the apprehension on your face, the stiffness in your movements as you were preparing to leave. He knew exactly what was up with you, and he couldn’t let you leave like that, it would eat him up for days. He grabbed your wrist as you turned for the door.

“Do you wanna stay?”

Maybe it was your exhausted mind finally turning into mush, or maybe it was the softness in his voice, the docile concern in his eyes that made you agree on staying. Your compliance surprised you both, honestly. You were both very aware that you wouldn’t have accepted the offer had it been anyone else. But in retrospect it seemed rational. After all, throughout the whole night, not once did you think back to the horrors that would visit you in your sleep, not once did you feel the crippling anxiety clawing at the frayed edges of your psyche. Instead you felt secure, sound. Safe. And you came to an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of sleep that scared you, maybe it was the impending loneliness, isolation and uncertainty that you’d often experience without him.

“Yes,”

You laid there, facing each other, a considerable distance between you. No words exchanged, yet you could tell there was a lot on his mind. He decided to voice it all in one question. He knew you were smart enough to catch the underlying self-doubt in his vaguely worded inquiry. Whether you pointed it out or not was entirely up to you, however.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

The articulation caught you off guard, you’d never seen him so… unsure before. Your mind raced with the different possible implications behind his wording, though you decided to quell them all with one single sentence. You smiled, soft and lazy, moving closer to seek out some of his warmth.

“You make me feel safe, Denki.”

And he really did. Even though you came to the revelation mere minutes ago, you accepted it swimmingly, it felt right to do so. It startled you how ready you were to embrace the newfound feelings, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kaminari was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t expected that response from you and he honestly still couldn’t rationalize it completely either. But for now, the budding feeling in his heart trumped over his ever-present uncertainty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[writebusofdoom]

For proof that I dream in ridiculously detailed fics, have this summary of my dream last night:

Voldemort must be defeated by a mother. It has been prophesied by more than one seer. Unfortunately, the last mother (apparently in the world? Ok, subconscious) is Narcissa Malfoy, who was just sent on a mission and hasn’t returned. Fearing her dead—she isn’t, but it doesn’t actually come up again—six of the remaining order members do a ritual to bring back a mother, ostensibly Narcissa.

The six are: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Hannah/Susan (my brain... mushed them together?), Arthur, and Dumbledore. They do this ritual with the help of a relic of Susan/Hannah’s family, thus her sort of random presence in the main character crowd. Each of the six gets a glyph, seemingly random, but Harry positions himself to get the one that means “death” bc he’s a martyr. Ron gets a “menopause” glyph, don’t ask my why.

Well, either the ritual was translated wrong or Dumbledore is an asshole, and instead of bringing back a mother, both Hannah/Susan and Hermione become pregnant, and Dumbledore dies instead of Harry. After further study, it turns out Harry now IS death for the purposes of the ritual and must kill the mother after she defeats Voldemort. Of course, he doesn’t know which one of the newly pregnant women he’ll have to kill.

For further pain, although I didn’t dream this part, Ron and Harry fall in love with the two girls (idk which) and it causes angst, and Arthur is in the background like “why”

Why does my brain do these things?

[itshaejinju]

In Her Sister’s Shadow | Fairy Tail Fan Fic | Chapter 1

SO @stunninglyignis here is that fic I was talking about the other day (or last night or super early this morning? IDK my brain is MUSH today. I blame Gladio pillows.) This can provide a bit of a distraction for you. I realized that I did not post the more smutty version on DA more of the pg13 one so the full smut one is somewhere in the unknown. 

So enjoy lovely!!! Also a little picture of her basic looks can be found here: Dez 

"When did you return to town?" A smooth voice called out from over the babbling sound of the river. Turning my head thick strands of scarlet red hair getting into my large brown eyes, the man that looked at me gave me a comely smile. "Why are you sitting there? You could get wet. . ." He said eying the water as if it was some sort of demon. "The rock is dry Loke - come out here there is enough room for two." I called out to him knowing he wouldn't, giving him a teasing smirk. "Hah, right sweetie like that will happen. So when did you arrive back? Can we talk at your place I have something important to tell you." He said shaking his head a little. "Okay, fine Loke. Be a good cat." I said standing up revealing my full-height my lean figure tanned from my long stay from home. The tall lean ladies' man stared blankly noticing that my attire was a bit different than what it was the last time he saw me. Though to be fair it was a year ago and the place I had been working a job in was always sunny and balmy needing not much for clothes, specially if you wanted to stay cool and comfortable. Wearing a pair of short cut off shorts that revealed the pockets some, a tank top that stopped right above the belly button showing off the Fairy Tail tattoo and its bright yellow color. A layer of shell necklaces clacked against my chest as I hopped down into the shallow water splashing it around a bit the long waist length red hair getting wet at I walked across the path. "Well. . .Dezerea you look - good." Loke said sounding stiff and unsure of himself right now - this was a really good friend of his they've been tight friends since he's joined Fairy Tail. "Thanks Loke, though coming from you it's sort of lame." "Yeah - yeah I know we are not each others type." He said rolling his eyes, it was something that had been set firm in stone since the start that they could never date it wouldn't work. It didn't help that Dezerea knew Loke's secret that he was actually a Celestial Spirit that of Leo of the Lion Constellation. Hence why she called him cat only when they are alone though, she knew from the first day she met him said he smelled different than the others and she's not even a Celestial Wizard and she knew it. Though Dez was smart just like her sister. He watched as she ran slim fingers through her long red hair spraying droplets of water around as she did making small little rainbows around her as she did. She is so pretty, even the smallest move of hers is graceful. "Do you know if Mirajane actually took care of my place while I was gone Loke?" She asked looking up at me those chocolate colored eyes staring at me looking so warm. "Oh I dunno it's been a busy year. .  ." He said offhandedly, pushing the glasses firmly up his narrow nose. "So what happened?" I asked as we walked up the hill heading to my small flat. Once in my apartment Loke spent a full hour explaining about what had happened in the past year of Fairy Tail. Our new recruit of Lucy Heartfilia, the attack from Phantom Lord and his Elemental Four. Shaking my head I looked at him from over my cup of tea, he looked worn out as if he was at the end of his strings. "Loke can I have your key?" I asked can't recall how many times I've asked this question it was surely over the hundred mark that's for sure. "You know I can't do that Dezzy. I can't go back and that's final plus you can't access that power. . ." "I can mimic magics better than ever now, Loke. I learned a lot while I was on Helios they for a village full of Okami and Kitsune's know a lot about magic." I said leaning over the table staring him right in the eyes. "I can't do it I must pay for my sin. I am to die soon, my power is waning I'm starting to fade in and out it's quite rough on the body I must say." Loke said with a smirk finishing the last of the tea. "Loke let me try." I begged. "No, sweetheart it's just not working sorry." He said trying to sound suave tossing in a playful pet-name. "So you are just going to leave me like this?" I said pouring more tea for myself, keeping my eyes on the liquid not daring to match his eyes. "You are making it sound like you didn't know that I am running on borrowed time. I don't want to leave you or Fairy Tail but it is time for me to go." "I bet all of your fan girls will be upset." I said with a bitter tone, almost as bitter as the tea. "I told them that I am breaking up with them. I don't want to leave them hanging thinking I will return when there is no way for me to come back." He said softly a self-deprecating smile on his handsome face. "Loke can I at least see it?" "And fall for that lame trick? No, Dezerea I will not let you have my key, I am glad that I found you though I didn't think I would see you again and I was a bit afraid of not getting to say goodbye to you. You are the only one around that knows my secret my true self so I sort of consider you my best friend. Though I wish it could have been more." He said reaching a hand out placing it out on top of mine. I moved my hand away quickly, red blush dusting my slightly tanned cheeks I didn't like that feeling. Getting to my feet I walked away from him, why wouldn't he let me try and help him? Going to the window looking out down the hill through the small forest stood the town that I had been away from for a whole year a lot had changed in that time. Surely nobody missed me I could walk into the guild hall and probably Mirajane will say hello and that will be about it. I'll walk up the second floor to the S-Class Mage floor to look for a new job Laxus will stare at me wondering who I am. He might asked who is the chick showing off a lot of skin. But if anyone does actually say anything they will say her name and not mine. "Can I asked a favor of you?" Loke asked placing a large hand on my shoulder grasping it tightly, placing the other hand on my waist his fingertips grazing over the bare skin. "What, cat?" I asked looking into his eyes catching a bit of my reflection in the lenses of the glasses. "Can I have a kiss? Just one, small peck." He asked in a soft gentle voice it was laced with a begging tone. "A kiss?" I questioned feeling thrown off - he has never asked for anything like that before from me. "You didn't get enough from your girls on your goodbye tour?" "I want one from you Dez." "I bet it's just for the same reason all the other guys who have kissed me." I said bitterly flashing a angry look. "Huh?" "Oh so that's how it would be to kiss her." I repeated what I've heard so many time in my life in a mocking tone pushing away from him. "Dezerea I want a kiss from you not her - she scares me." He said mentioning my sister. "Yes because I'm the non-threatening version of her that is approachable, the desperate one that wants someone to see her as her, so she'll take whatever she gets." I said my voice raising in tempo with my heart that was starting to beat like mad. "No, I want the kiss from Dezerea Scarlet not Erza Scarlet." "Because EVERYTHING is about Erza!" I shouted angrily my anger towards my twin sister rising in my chest and pushing through my lips. "The great and wonderful Erza the beautiful, strong, talented Erza." "No this is about the brilliant, tantalizing, powerful Dezerea." He countered cornering me towering over me hands on my shoulders holding me in place his body pressed against mine. "No. . ." I sobbed feeling scared now. "Yes. I'm going to kiss you whether or not you want it Dez, so close your eyes." He said in a growl, it sent a shiver down my spine as he looked at me with those bright eyes. Instinctively I closed my eyes at that request even though I didn't want to - or did I? I felt a pair of soft lips press against mine, gently nipping at my own, his hand snaked around my waist holding me against him firmly as the other hand pressed on the back of my head. I let out a soft moan, just barely audible but even being in the Human World for three years now the Celestial Spirit still had excellent hearing. Grinning Loke leaned in again for another kiss teeth biting on my lower lip a little tugging a little as he weaved his fingers in my red hair. I pushed him back some I shook my head negatively but he ignored me as his lips darted to my now exposed neck. Sucking on my neck leaving a bright mark on the skin letting out a satisfied growl Loke rested his forehead against mine. "I wish I had enough energy left in me, to give you a proper farewell." Loke said softly hot breath tickling my ear as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. "Yes, it's way too late for anything between us, so stop this torture Loke please." I said softly pain in my voice, why was he doing this to me? "I know I was weak. . .I couldn't care for you in the manner you deserve so I tortured the both of us for so long. I'm not even strong enough now to take care of you like I want to. I feel so faded." He said softly wrapping his arms around me tightly holding me against him. "Don't say those disgusting words." I said as a pit of fear opened up in my stomach was he going to say something drastically stupid? "I wouldn't dream of saying it out loud to you sweetheart. I will treasure this moment for the rest of my short life." "It could been longer just give me your key." I said stubbornly. He kissed me again this time it was full of passion, he was showing me how he felt acting out those words instead of saying them. Why did this feel like a knife stabbing in my heart? Pushing him away I shoved him back rushing out of my flat I left his presence I couldn't take it anymore. Why did I return to Magnolia? I was happy in Helios - no one knew of me no one knew of the Great Erza I was my own person there. Running down the hill I made my way through the town heading to the Guild Hall of Fairy Tail, it was still in the middle of being fixed but it was decently functional by the exterior. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest over the thoughts of Loke and all that he had just told me. Opening the door to Fairy Tail I looked around it was loosely full of people in various stages of self-repair from the recent battle with Phantom Lord and building this place from scratch. There she stood looking tall, bold, brave, serene, beautiful - my sister. Erza Scarlet the Re-Quip Mage S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail Guild. She was at the job offer board she was looking over at the sheet standing next to Gray and Natsu. There was a slender blonde holding Happy the small blue Exceed patting his head as he munched on a fish. She must be Lucy the new Celestial Mage the reason Phantom Lord showed up to Fairy Tail. Walking over to Erza I stared at her for a while before she noticed I was there, the whole guild hall was silent not even Cana was guzzling down alcohol. "I see you still live." I said simply as she locked her chocolate brown eyes at me. Then I walked past her to the Master, I think Erza and I are the only one that calls him that other than that he's called Gramps. Makarov Dreyar is our Guild Master and is highly respected amongst other guild masters. He saved my life a long time ago I owe him a lot, that's why I came back for him. I still owe him once I pay him back I will move to Helios and live amongst the Okami and Kitsune. Bowing down lowly to Master Makarov I pulled out a bag full of Jewel that I earned from the mission that I had just finished. "Master Makarov I return from Helios - here is my payment." I said placing the money to his left. "Welcome back child. The sun land was good to you." He said cracking a smile. "Yes, Helios only saw one day of rain during my mission I think it lasted about ten minutes Master." "I need to speak with you." I heard my sister call out from beside me, her voice sounding strangled. "I think it best you speak with your sister Dezerea it's been a long year." Master Makarov said as I took a step away from Erza. "Who is that? She looks just like Erza she even has that same strong feeling, well not as threatening." I heard the blonde say softly to Happy. "That is Erza's twin sister Dezerea - aye. Dezerea is a S-Class mage just like her." "She does Re-Quip just like her then since she's her twin?" Lucy asked feeding Happy another fish. "No - she's a specialist, sorta." Happy said shrugging his small shoulders. "Huh?" "What Happy is saying is that Dezerea knows a lot of magic she is what they call a Jack of All Trades." Gray said looking over at Dezerea then to Erza. "That's not a Specialist technique Happy - that's just a lump of stuff." She said with disdain in her voice. "Don't listen to them." Erza said noticing the look in my eyes, knowing that I was getting upset with the remarks. "They don't understand." "And you do? Oh wait you have to because you are my twin you automatically know everything about me." I hissed walking briskly out of the Guild Hall. "Dezzy please - there is a new pastry shop that opened down the road a few months ago they have really good cake." She said giving me a smile placing a hand on my arm. "Be glad that I haven't had any cake in a year. . ." I said sourly following her to the shop. We sat in a small corner of the small shop she ordered strawberry cake while I ordered raspberry. The two of us sat in silence eating the cake, forks not touching the plate not a sound being made as we ate. Slowly my twin started to tell me what had happened in the past year, I didn't bother to tell I already heard from Loke I wanted to hear at least two sides of this story. Sometimes Loke tailored things to his own needs - it was in his nature to do so, so I didn't hold it against him. Also in lieu to make sure his secret was never told we made sure not to talk much together in public, he would visit me in private if he wanted to vent some frustrations to me that only a Celestial Spirit would deal with. Another thing that hurt about being friends with him is that it had to be in private, my heart clenched painfully thinking about it. He was going to die soon and he wouldn't let me help him, I needed that key. "So how was your mission in Helios?" She asked after telling me all of the news, pleased with all my planned remarks. "No one knows about you there so I am free to be me." I said simply. "That must have felt really good then, to be free of my shadow. You know I do not condone any of it, Dezzy." She said placing a hand on top of mine. "It doesn't matter if you do or not Erza it just is how it is I will forever be in your shadow no matter what I do. So once I pay off my debt I will leave Magnolia for good they were good to me there in Helios. The Prince wanted me to stay, I told him I would go back once -" "You are done paying off that debt to the Master." Erza finished my sentence not even wanting to start her normal argument about this debt of mine. It had been a long drawn out argument between Master Makarov and Erza for a while they believe I don't owe Fairy Tail anything for saving my life in the way that they did. What had happened. . .it's been four years and I still have not paid for it. "Not yet - thanks for the cake I am tired." I said getting to my feet. I felt a warm pair of arms wrap around me as my sister hugged me tightly pulling me tightly against her body. Letting out a gasp I tried to push her away but she held me so tightly I couldn't move my arms. "I'm so glad that you are still alive. . .I was worried we couldn't get a hold of you at all. No calls would make it through to Helios - I thought you might be dead." She sobbed. "I won't die so easily Erza not when I owe the Master so much." I said softly leaning my head against hers. "Plus you don't seem too worried you didn't go after me to drag me home again." "I told you I wouldn't go after you again after you threatened. . ." She said slowly and quietly remembering the fight we had the last time I attempted to leave. "That I would kill myself? Do you trust that I could be that strong and do that?" I queried. "You are stronger than I am." She said softly squeezing me tightly. "Not in the slightest - I am just your shadow." I said feeling bitter with myself. "Please stop saying those hurtful things." She said pushing away from me some to look into my eyes. "I'm hurting your feelings, dear sister?" I scoffed in a mocking tone. "My heart. . ."She said simply knowing that my heart was hurting just as bad with each word I spat out felt like a knife stabbing into my black spotted heart. "I'm tired I've been on the road for several weeks without stop to get back to this hovel of a town." I said switching subjects. "Let me walk you home."