#I think I've gotten it figured out by this point and the pain has gone away :D So who can complain!
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your hand is touching mine and i can't stop myself from taking it & Yoongi
thank you for the request! i've had this sitting in my drafts forever, so it gave me an excuse to finish it (and why it's so long dgkjd one day i will learn what a drabble is). i hope you enjoy it. <3
i call this yoongi's romantic comedy of errors.
pairing: yoongi x f. reader
genre: friends to lovers, miscommunication, fluff/comedy
warnings: reader is taehyung's sister, they're coworkers, yoongi is really bad at asking people out on dates someone pls help our boy, some swearing. this was long and i was too lazy to edit it, so if you see any mistakes no you didn't.
wordcount: 2100
taking valentine's day drabble requests here ♡
Yoongi reaches for his wallet, cheeks aching from hours spent laughing.
He’s glad he did this—took a chance, asked you out properly. There’s none of the usual awkwardness that comes along with nights out, none of the dread of having to turn someone down, none of the guilt. No, this had gone well. Better than he ever could’ve imagined, and instead of preparing his trademark I had a great time, but… speech, he’s trying to figure out how to ask you out again without being a floundering, incompetent mess.
But then you reach for your wallet, too, and Yoongi—
“What are you doing?” he laughs, aiming for casual.
It works. You laugh softly, quirking an eyebrow. “Getting my card so we can split the bill.”
The words are out of his mouth before his brain can catch up. “What? I can’t let you pay on a—”
Everything comes to a screeching halt. A record-scratch moment. Because he finally figures out what’s going on, sees the way your eyes widen in panic at Yoongi calling this a date. Surely, he’d been clear enough when he asked you to dinner. He had to have been. He distinctly remembers wearing his best shirt into the office that day. He’d even worn the expensive cologne—the one he’d carefully rationed because you’d complimented it before and he didn’t want it to run out before he got a chance to use it properly.
No, he couldn’t have been that dumb. Still—he wracks his brain, tries to remember how he’d worded it, except now he’s in survival mode and everything’s coming up blank. So he does the only thing he can think of—“I can’t let you pay for your birthday dinner.”—and lies.
What a fucking idiot.
“Yoongi,” you say slowly, like you’re talking to the idiot he most definitely is. “My birthday isn’t for another four months.”
The laugh he forces out can only be described as a hellish witch cackle. “I know that,” he insists, “but I just figured why not, you know! Who says you can’t take your friends to birthday dinners four months early?”
You’re nearly stunned into silence. “But this isn’t even our traditional birthday dinner restaurant.”
“I wanted to try something new,” he answers, even though it comes out more like a question. He had wanted to try something new, and look where that’s gotten him. “Hoseok said this place was nice.”
“Yeah, but Hoseok’s been with his partner for eighty years.”
Yoongi’s laugh is pained, now. No more witch cackle, just the dying wheezes of a man running out of excuses and time. One of his favorite things about you is how smart and unwilling to put up with bullshit you are. A week ago, he never would’ve entertained being on the receiving end of it, but now it’s all he can do to tread water. “Oh, really?” he asks, playing stupid. “I didn’t think this place had, like, partner vibes.”
“There’s a little candle on the table,” you deadpan. “There’s a woman in the corner playing a violin. It absolutely has partner vibes.”
“Maybe I just wanted to splurge?”
Your stare is pointed, gaze full of suspicion. “Did you, now.”
There’s a moment where the light breaks through the clouds. Clarity, and Yoongi doesn’t make the same mistake twice. You’re not buying anything he’s selling, so he’s not going to force it. This wasn’t a date for you. He’ll tuck his tail between his legs and take the loss, and it’ll hurt, sure, and it’ll be one of those things that keeps him up at night years into the future, the embarrassment agonizing, but keeping your friendship intact is more important.
So he just sighs. Hands your credit card back to you and ignores your protests. “Of course I did,” he answers. Tries handing the envelope with just his card inside to a passing waiter, but you throw your arm into the aisle to stop him.
“Quit playing with me and tell me what’s going on,” you snap. “You’re being weird and I don’t like it.”
The waiter side-steps your arm and says, “Please unhand me, ma’am.”
(God, Yoongi’s going to have to triple his tip.)
“Shut up, Taehyung, I’m not even touching you.”
(Quadruple it, by the looks of it.)
Taehyung just sighs. “Fuck you, dude. I didn’t bother you the entire time you were on your date, and now you wanna mess with me when I’m just trying to cash out and go home.”
Yoongi says—“Oh, do you know him?”
—at the same time you say, “He’s my broth—what do you mean my date?”
Taehyung looks at you the way you’d looked at Yoongi. “Do you know where you are right now?”
You snap your fingers. “Because it has partner vibes, right?”
“Definitely has partner vibes,” Taehyung agrees. “There’s little candles on the tables.”
You turn to Yoongi. “I told you!” All he can do is shrug. Candles aren’t really his thing, mostly just ambiance, so what does he know.
Taehyung looks between the two of you, clearly running numbers in his head. How to not lose his tip, probably, or maybe envisioning what Yoongi would be like as a brother-in-law. No, wait—
“Okay, I’m gonna go. This is really weird and you’re both very stupid. Bye.”
You roll your eyes. “Yoongi’s just—”
“I literally do not care who my sister is dating! It’s none of my business!” Taehyung calls over his shoulder, much to Yoongi’s horror and the dismay of the rest of the patrons.
Once he’s gone, the two of you sit in awkward silence. He’s surprised you’re sticking around. The night has turned into an absolute shitshow, and Yoongi wouldn’t blame you a bit for leaving, though the fact that you haven’t has him hesitantly optimistic. Maybe he can salvage this, figure out a way to explain the miscommunication in a way that doesn’t sound condescending, because I’m sorry I thought I asked you out properly makes you sound like a dunce who can’t comprehend when they’re being asked out properly.
What a mess.
It’s not until Taehyung returns with his card, he’s tipped 50%, and he’s moving to put on his jacket do you speak. “Was he right?”
“Your brother?” Yoongi asks reflexively. You nod and his palms get all sweaty. “Um. I’m not really sure how to answer that.”
You snort. “Honestly, for a start.”
“I—okay,” he acquiesces. “Maybe not here, though. People are still staring and it’s making me want to throw up.”
The two of you move to his car. He turns it on and lets it idle, turns on your seat warmer and the heat because it’s cold outside and he’s already sweating buckets so what difference does it make. He’s got the anxiety shakes, anyway. And it’s not lost on him that this is new, too. Before, the two of you always met up in the city. Separate cars, separate ways. He’d picked you up tonight. Right at seven, just like he’d said, so he can’t figure out where everything had gone sideways.
“Okay, I’m just gonna—I did think this was a date,” he says. Feels good to get it out there, he supposes, but the way your jaw drops doesn’t make him feel too great.
You snap it shut. “Oh. Okay.”
He picks at his dress pants. He knows the fabric is expensive but not what it is. The salesperson at the store said it was one of their best and the charge on his card confirmed it. He’d bought three-million won pants for a date and he’d managed to fuck it all up. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Huh? What d’you mean for what. For thinking it was a date when it wasn’t.”
Friendships have survived worse, right? There’s a guy who works with both of you who divorced his wife of ten years and they still go on vacations together all the time, so the two of you are going to be fine. Shit, would Yoongi be able to go to Saint-Tropez with you after a divorce? That’s some heavy shit. That’s almost insane, he thinks. Does he have that kind of maturity? Is it maturity? The guy works in the communications department, so maybe he’s just… good at that? Maybe Yoongi should’ve asked him for some pointers.
“Can I just ask,” you start, and it’s the way you turn in your seat, angling your body towards him, that activates his fight-or-flight. Yoongi’s anxiety is not built for this kind of confrontation. Not at all. “What made you think it was a date?”
“My pants are three-million won,” he blurts out.
“You thought this was a date because… you’re wearing expensive pants?”
He groans. Bonks his head against the steering wheel and nearly has a heart attack when the horn beeps, far too loud for this parking garage. “No, it’s not just the pants. I thought I’d been very clear when I asked you to dinner that it was, like, a date. And then I almost said that and you looked really panicked, like you’d rather be buried alive, so I lied and said it was a birthday dinner even though it obviously wasn’t, and then your brother—and, yeah. I don’t know. Clearly I’m not as good at this as I thought I was.”
“Okay, first of all: yikes.” Yoongi nearly wails. “Secondly: Yoongi, you said you don’t date coworkers! Why the hell would I have thought this was a date?”
“In my defense, I said that a long time ago.”
“And never rescinded it!” you argue back. “Why would I think that’d changed?”
“Well—because!” Your stare is blank. “Because I picked you up—”
“I told you my car is in the shop three days ago—”
“And I’m pretty sure when I asked, I said, do you want to go to dinner with me—”
“Sure,” you concede, “as friends! We always go to dinner together!”
“But…” He sighs, runs his hands down his face. Might as well rip off the bandaid. “My pants.”
“Yoongi, all of your pants are expensive. You make an ungodly amount of money a year.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he tries again.
You groan. “Yeah, and I’m supposed to give you a gift.” You run your hands over your face, and it’s really stupid, Yoongi thinks, because you’re wearing makeup. Did you always wear makeup when the two of you went to dinner? He can’t remember. He knows “no makeup” makeup is a thing, so he’s not all that confident he could tell what is and isn’t makeup, and it hits him for the millionth time this evening how bad he is at this.
“Look,” you continue, “let’s just… go somewhere else.”
“Maybe you should pick, since…” He gestures vaguely at himself.
You nod. “Yeah, good idea. That new ice cream place is close. We could go there.”
Yoongi glances out the window. It’s cold outside. A little gray, too, so it’s probably going to snow, considering it’s the middle of February and it’s been unseasonably cold, even for winter. But it’s not an outright rejection. It’s your idea, and if he dares to think it, the look you’re giving him is hopeful. He’s sure the wires in his brain will overheat and start crackling at the mere thought of you wanting to spend more time with him, so he’s agreeing before he can think twice. If his fucking pants are three-million won, they better keep him warm.
He doesn’t know what to do once you’re out of the car. Does he try to hold your hand? Does he loop his arm through yours? Throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you against his side? He’s already ten steps behind. He’s got a few centimeters on you, but your legs are longer, and it’s a little embarrassing, the hurried waddle he does to catch up. And he must sidle up too close, because your hand brushes against his.
Still warm, even though it’s going to snow. Even though you aren’t wearing gloves. All he can think is that the two of you are on your way to some new ice cream place because you wanted to go there, even though he’s put you through the ringer tonight, so he exchanges his stupidity for bravery. Closes in a little more, smiles when you look up at him and cock an eyebrow.
Because your hand is brushing against his, and he can’t stop himself from taking it.
For the first time all night, he knows it’s the right move when you smile.
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Wow, this was amazing. I could never read anything (not even a tweet) this little asshole puts on paper and I really appreciate you taking the bullet on this.
As I read, I wanted to put in post-it notes for things I wanted to comment on. I don't remember them now, but it all comes down to the same thing:
Omid Scobie is full of shit. No one contacted him about the Queen dying. If they did, he'd have gotten it out there that he knew it was coming before it came so he could be important.
Omid Scobie doesn't have contacts left in England. He just makes shit up at will.
Omid Scobie is seething about his loss of importance. When MM came along, his ticket to stardom was in hand. It now lost. All is lost, I say! And he will never stop trying to make everyone pay for his loss of perceived status and access to gossip.
Omid Scobie, who once looked like Omid Scobie, is one to talk about racism. When you spend thousands and thousands of dollar, pain, and time to look as white as can be, you lose your credibility. Well, whatever credibility you might have once had.
Omid Scobie, shut the fuck up about Diana and William. BRFRumor, you nailed it. William actually knew his mother. I am OG Diana. Adored her then, adore her now, will always adore her. That doesn't mean I think she was perfect or an angel. I think she was a woman trying to maneuver her way in the world, a world owned and operated by men, like so many women before her. She was sensitive and she was real. She genuinely cared for people and causes. She genuinely loved her husband and was in way over her head in the situation she married into. She was indeed complex and complicated, and she made some really stupid, nasty mistakes when she was divorcing, as many do. William knows and accepts all of that about her - and still adores her. Harry doesn't even know who his mother was. He adores his idealization of her and he and OS make that out to be Harry and only Harry knowing and loving his mother. Harry would never dream of actually trying to figure out who is mother was. It's all coattails shit with all three of them: H, MM, OS. They want to bask in Diana's reflected glory. Psh. Instead, all they've done is turn all kinds of people against Diana since they insist they are like her. Not one of them is anything like her.
Okay, I've gotten myself so worked up on this last one I can't remember the rest. :) Your ending was brilliant. If only I could remember what it was. :)
Thank you for taking the time to do this! It's a brilliant piece of work!
Yeah, Scobie's chapter on Diana is an interesting one. It's all over the place so you just want to tell him 'Get to the point, man!'
But I think his point is this: Diana has been the face of the royal brand for so long, whether it's the idealized Diana of her 20s, the global force for change and good in her 30s, her fashion and style, and/or her tragic death) that the Palace no longer wants her there. So they're trying to discredit her to where she no longer "is" the royal brand. It won't work, is Scobie's conclusion because like "her statue's reflection in the palace pond...depending on the light, her true story briefly vanishes but always reappears."
He seems to suggest that it's Harry and Meghan's struggles with the BRF that keeps Diana's true story alive (because they've gone through similar things) in spite of William, Charles, and Camilla.
And for Scobie to believe William thinks there is no place for Diana in his monarchy, it does point to Scobie not having any sources left. Or, as anon points out, making shit up for the drama. Because William's made it clear there's a place for his mother's memory in his future. He just doesn't browbeat us to death with it the way Harry does.
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For the ask game: 1 and 13. Have a good day sir Achilles 🫡
thank you my friend 🫡 this is long. im putting it under the cut. for the record i have chosen achilles and patroclus.
the character everyone gets wrong
i could for real pick any character for this so im glad i've gotten this a few times. let's start with achilles though given the spirit of the ask and how deeply mad it makes me that people get him wrong so often, in so many ways, with such total confidence. the biggest and worst way is when people think he's bloodthirsty or cruel by nature, or when people think that because he acts with such callousness that proves he's a simplistic killing machine or lacks human emotions. to be clear this isn't a speech in defence - this is not about me saying he's a "good person", it's just that that's not the heart of why he's so violent and the distinction is important to me because it informs basically everything he does.
achilles is 1) is a hyper-competent fighter 2) feels emotions in a big way and 3) tends to externalise his sadness grief guilt etc as anger and then violence because it's easier to feel and to experience than all the other stuff. that, and the one time we really see him fight in the iliad is when he's going on a crazed rampage where he IS bloodthirsty and destructive. so it's really easy to look at that and conclude that he has no feelings or just really likes killing, because we don't see anything else. the rest of his character is implied rather than shown and it's really easy to miss. but for me the heart of why the iliad is so heartbreaking for achilles is that the rampage shows the breakdown of achilles' character, not the core of it. it's exactly so tragic because that's actually not who he is. it's not that he isn't violent or hasn't killed or that he has reservations about taking lives, but you can see in earlier events that something is different. for example we are told that achilles when he defeats enemy soldiers is actually perfectly happy to spare and ransom them rather than killing them, which tells me he doesn't fight to kill, he fights to win. that's not hugely different in terms of the outcome, given it is in a war context where defeat and death tend to mean the same thing, but it IS different from a personality and character perspective, because it tells us achilles is at worst indifferent to human life rather than actually being driven by a desire to take it. better? worse? doesn't matter, not my point - just different. and, actually pretty unique amongst all the soldiers we hear about. that makes achilles one of the less bloodthirsty soldiers in the iliad, even if he has one of the highest body counts of the army. diomedes, for example, and even arguably patroclus, are shown with more active bloodlust than achilles.
but that changes in the rampage. it's very explicit in the case of lycaon (one of priam's millions of sons) because achilles meets him in the rampage and we're told that achilles has actually captured him once before and chose then to ransom him. lycaon supplicates him again this time and begs for his life once more. achilles then tells him that before patroclus died, he preferred to spare trojan lives and ransom them, but now that patroclus is dead, things are different. then he kills lycaon. so here we see the change. achilles used to fight to win, because he had no active desire to destroy or cause pain, he just didn't care if that happened on the way to achieving glory. he was driven by victory, pride, vanity, even the fun of fighting. but now patroclus is gone, so he's driven by guilt and grief. he fights to kill. he doesn't do that out of heartlessness or callousness - he does it out of pain. what i'm saying is that when he's out there taking lives, it's not because he has no feelings, it's because he feels too much. hence, the breakdown of his character: the rampage is achilles at his absolute lowest moment lashing out in the only way he can figure out how to do, and it proves that whatever achilles is, he's not a simple killing machine.
just pausing my diatribe to add that there's a lot more to this! the violence thing is just one example. people sometimes see him as cold and unfeeling or simplistic because of the way he reacted to agamemnon and briseis, the fact that he is willing to turn on his own people, the fact that he won't fight to save their lives - all things he does in great selfishness with really tragic and significant consequences, but also all way more complex than they appear from looking at it. if i start on why the "sulking in his tent" thing pisses me off we'll be here for like ten years and you'll need a horse to escape me. i'll just leave it. you gotta trust me.
back on the bloodlust: it's really significant that patroclus is the turning point, because patroclus plays a key role in grounding achilles to humanity and all aspects of mortality. once patroclus is gone, that moral center is gone too, and we begin to see the breakdown of this half-divine figure into a character so struck with deeply human emotions he can't figure out how to hold that he ironically can't maintain his humanity anymore. there's a lot going on and it makes achilles an extremely complex character with very complex feelings, so it drives me absolutely up the wall bonkers when people see him and go, oh there's the guy who fights and kills a lot, he was really mean when we saw him, he sulked in his tent and has no compassion, let's just reduce him to a simple fighter who only cares about himself and that's the end of his motivation. there's a lot of bad things you can say about achilles and have them be perfectly true. he's very selfish and very proud. but he's definitely not a simplistic, mindless, bloodthirsty warrior. that really misses the point of him.
13. worst blorboficiation
okay let's talk about patroclus.
there's this fanon phenomenon that happens a lot with female characters, especially where they're the only female character (or only feminine character) in a group of otherwise masculine figures. it's a very particular kind of girlbossification that turns them into a hypercompetent mom friend who always has their shit together, is secretly better at everything (especially fighting) than all the Guys, and likes to roll their eyes at how immature and silly Their Boys are! i don't need to name examples. you know. you Know.
it happens to male characters too, though, in specific circumstances. they usually have traditionally feminine skill sets and they're often noted for being maternal, caring, or kind. as if to compensate, fanon tends to aggressively exaggerate their competence in all areas. patroclus in the song of achilles was famously portrayed as not very battle-ready, which yes is characterisation i did not like, but a lot of iliad and patchilles people REALLY REALLY didn't like it and now everyone makes a REAL POINT of pointing out how competent patroclus is on the battlefield. and he IS! HE IS! i think, though dont quote me, he has the highest named body count in the iliad. so like, you will never see me arguing against the idea that he's an extremely strong and competent warrior and that his compassion is a choice rather than a product of weakness. im firmly in that camp and i could go on about it all day. but it came with this whole host of Sassification where suddenly it wasnt just that patroclus is one of the best greek soldiers, it was No seriously guys, Patroclus is a BOSS XD. Also, he's the one holding the braincell. He's really sassy and sarcastic and he has Achilles whipped. Etc. Etc.
which, the same way this irks me when it happens to female characters, just annoys me so much. it kind of lessens the impact of how legitimately great and unique patroclus is as a character because it feels like a constant defence against an argument that isn't even necessarily being presented, at least not anymore. when you're constantly trying to make a point with reference to the idea that everyone thinks the other point is true, it weakens the point. patroclus is great. he's one of the best greek soldiers. he can wreck shop. he's exceptionally kind and he's known for being compassionate and caring, which is super significant to the iliad's narrative and themes. i love him. he does NOT have the brain cell. if he ever had it, apollo knocked it out of him the second or third time he tried to climb the same wall he'd just fallen off.
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Could I get Cass killing a monster, only to realize it's her S/O turned?
Ohh, painful. Of course!
Cassandra Dimitrescu killing a monster, only to realize it used to be her s/o.
(Gender neutral).
Warnings: blood, violence, death.
Masterlists here!
"Go away, Dani. I don't want to be bothered right now."
"You haven't let me bother you for forever now!" Daniela whines. She has to raise her voice quite a bit because the maiden Cassandra is torturing won't stop screaming. "Why have you been especially grouchy lately?"
"I haven't been."
Daniela spares a glance at the growing collection of dead maidens and crystalized Moroaice around the cellar. Almost all courtesy of her sister.
"...Right. You know—"
"If you don't leave, I'm going to tell Mother what actually happened to her favorite wine glass."
Daniela gasps, "You wouldn't."
"Care to test me?"
After a moment of consideration, Daniela lets out an overdramatic sigh. "Fine..." She throws her arms up and meanders her way back upstairs.
The screams of the maiden peter out. Her movements still.
"Dead already?" Cassandra mutters, her sulkiness still far from lifted. "I had a feeling you'd be a bore..."
She refuses to admit what has her In such a poor mood.
(It's you).
You stopped writing.
You stopped visiting.
She doesn't understand.
Did you fall out of love with her and decide to cut things off without another word? Like a coward?
What if you never truly cared for her at all? What if you were using her all along? That better not be the case. Cassandra will drain you of your blood if it is.
Could you have gotten yourself injured? Sick?
She's sorely tempted to go down to your house and the village and find out.
Unfortunately, she can't. Her mother will kill her if she finds out she went outside while there's still snow on the ground.
...
Fuck it. Cassandra can't stand another second of this.
In the dead of night, she dons the thickest clothes she owns, puts on a heavy cloak (which you're always so insistent that she wears when you think it's too chilly outside), clips her quiver around her waist, grabs her bow, and sneaks out.
The cold immediately hits her like loads of needles sticking her over and over again. She soldiers through it. Thankfully, the journey isn't a long one.
Your home is dark. The curtains are drawn. At such as late hour, that's to be expected, though.
Your horse is gone, the door to its stable left ajar.
Spots of blood mark your small porch. Your blood. Cassandra would recognize it anywhere. Not a good sign.
After the time that's passed, no other clues remain. A dead end. Hm.
Cassandra marches over to the house across from yours and pounds on the door.
It takes a few minutes, but someone eventually comes and opens it a crack. "Who's there...?" As soon as the villager sees the tall, dark figure on their doorstep, they immediately begin to close it.
Cassandra slams her open palm against the wood, stopping them short and promptly forcing her way inside.
The villager stumbles back. She grabs a fistful of their sweater before they hit the floor. "Tell me about the home across from you. What happened to the human who lives there?"
"A-a monster attacked weeks ago!"
"A Lycan?"
The villager only stares up at Cassandra, eyes wide with fear. She then remembers that villagers don't call them that.
"Was it man-like?" She joggles them. "Describe it!"
"N-no, it had the body of a large wolf and-and the face of a human. I've never seen anything like it before!"
A Vârcolac? Cassandra has yet to encounter one of those. They're a recent (accidental) creation of Moreau's.
Hopefully, it didn't kill you. You can defend yourself. Since you tend to go out in the very late hours of the night (which is how Cassandra met you), she went out of her way to make sure of that.
Perhaps after being injured, you took shelter elsewhere. Perhaps you're still recovering.
"And where did both of them go?"
"Ran off into woods!" The villager points to the area in question.
Cassandra releases them and walks off.
She heads straight for the trees.
She isn't going home until she finds you.
She's still formulating more theories when she hears rapid, heavy footfalls approaching.
Cassandra whips around and draws her bow.
The beast coming towards her matches the description that the villager gave her.
She probably shouldn't stick around for this. Not in her current state. The cold has rendered her movements stiff and near clumsy. She can't turn into her swarm. She's setting herself up for a potentially nasty injury.
But she's also setting herself up for her first Vârcolac kill, and this could potentially be the same one that attacked you.
The arrow strikes the Vârcolac.
Its fast.
Its agile.
Cassandra tries to keep her distance from its claws and teeth, firing off more arrows whenever there’s a window of opportunity.
She manages to get a few nasty gashes on her arm and thigh, but she's fine otherwise.
Now reminiscent of a pincushion, the Vârcolac collapses on its side and crystalizes. Dead. Just like that.
Cassandra lowers her bow and approaches the remains.
In the chunks of crystalized Vârcolac flesh, bones, arrows, and shredded fabric that used to be clothes lies a silver chain. Close to the base of the skull.
Cassandra freezes in her tracks.
She recognizes the pendant attached to it. She made it for you.
Hoping that her eyes are playing tricks on her in the low light, Cassandra drops to her knees and hurriedly picks the item up.
"No."
This is your necklace!
"No, this can't be..."
The chain could have just gotten caught in the beast’s fur. Maybe this isn't you. It can’t be you.
But, upon closer inspection, although beyond dirty and nearly amorphous, the scraps of fabric are vaguely reminiscent of things Cassandra has seen you wear before.
...This Vârcolac is you. Was you.
And now, Cassandra has...
She...
She tries to control her breathing, which is growing increasingly unsteady.
Keep it together.
Deeps breaths.
With the necklace still in her grasp, Cassandra rises to her feet.
A harsh cry tears its way from her throat, more reminiscent of a wounded animal than anything else.
She hardly remembers half of her trip back to the castle. It’s nothing but a blur.
She doesn't even feel as though she's piloting her own body anymore.
It's nearly dawn when she finally makes it back inside.
"Where have you been?" Great. Bela noticed her absence. Just what she needs. "It's still winter, Cassandra. You could have died out there!"
"Save it for someone who cares," Cassandra hisses.
"What's your problem?" Ignore her. Ignore her. Keep walking. Keep it together. "What was so important that you had to go out? Will you stop—"
"Don't touch me!" she snaps, throwing her sister's hand off her shoulder. "It doesn't matter where I went, what I did, or what I saw! And even if it did, it's none of your concern!"
There's a tense pause.
This time, when Cassandra continues on, Bela does not follow.
The maid staff is lucky that none of them encounter the middle daughter as she heads for her room, for she would slaughter all of them on the spot.
Upon reaching her destination, she slams the door shut.
She rips her cloak off.
She throws her weapons to the floor.
And then, she gently sets down the makeshift bag she fashioned from the scraps of your clothes. Your bones rattle.
...Cassandra doesn't know why she brought your bones back.
Sure, it's not unusual for her to take them. She has plenty around her room. But those... Those are like trophies and souvenirs.
And this... This is you.
Cassandra supposes she just couldn't find it in herself to leave you. Parts of you, since the crystals and bones are all that remain.
This isn't reversible.
You are gone.
She will never get to see your smile again.
Never get to hear your laugh.
Never get to listen to your stories or dreadful jokes.
Never get to write you another letter or read yours.
Never get to hold you close.
Never get to take in your scent.
Never get to listen to your heartbeat.
Never get to truly spend time in your presence again.
With your necklace still in her grasp, Cassandra slumps back against the door and slides down it until she's on the floor. She draws her knees up to her chest.
It's fine. This is all fine.
You were nothing but a pet. A pet. She has had more than a few of those before.
You were nothing special.
You weren't.
Or at least, that's what Cassandra's going to keep telling herself.
She’s not going to completely breakdown.
She’s not going to cry.
That’s what she’s going to keep telling herself.
#resident evil x reader#x reader#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#resident evil village#cassandra dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#resident evil 8#resident evil 8 village#cassandra dimitrescu x you
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Mishka refuses to go away lol
I realize I'm basically just emptying my brain on here at this point, sharing my thought process about Mishka and Nikolai, but anyway... If you're not into my ramblings, feel free to scroll past. I've put it under a cut for your convenience.
So, I think I've finally figured this out...
When Mishka comes to Japan to visit Nikolai, it's December (around Nikolai's birthday, which is the 18th). He's able to go there because he's currently on the short-term injured list and has gotten permission to travel during the few weeks he's not actively playing. Of course that means he can only stay in Japan for a short time... but what an amazing short time it turns out to be.
It's also around this time that Nikolai and Ginger are thinking that maybe they're meant to be together and decide to see how that goes. Mishka returns to Canada, with Nikolai making no promises about their future, but he's a hopeless romantic and an eternal optimist, so he hasn't given up.
This is Mishka's final season as a professional hockey player, and by spring, he's ready to retire and hang up his skates. He needs knee surgery that he's put off for far too long, and it's scheduled for late spring/early summer (think end of May/beginning of June).
By spring, Nikolai and Ginger have concluded that they're probably not meant to be a couple after all. They love each other deeply, and their connection goes beyond a typical friendship, but they're convinced they'll never get past being best friends. Nikolai realizes he thinks of Ginger in a similar way to how he thinks of Natascha, his sister. He would move heaven and earth for Ginger, but he doesn't want to be her boyfriend.
He realizes he loves Ginger, but he's in love with Mishka.
He and Ginger have a long, serious talk about it, and he discovers that she feels the same way about him. Originally, she thought there might be something more, but like him, she doesn't want to change the nature of their friendship. She doesn't have any siblings, but she says if she did, she'd want a brother just like Nikolai. Neither of them feels hurt or disappointed by their decision, because there's nothing stopping them from continuing their friendship. They can still be together as much as they want, with no relationship obligations tying them down.
They decide to keep their "breakup" a secret from Anya, so they don't tell anyone except the people closest to them.
And then Nikolai receives a message from Mishka, telling him about his surgery. Mishka's going to have to be off his feet for a while, but the problem is that he has no family in Canada and no friends close enough that he feels comfortable asking for help. Luckily, it's the off-season for figure skating as well, so Nikolai is free to go home.
Nikolai, who's still homesick after seven or eight months in Japan, is desperate for any excuse to go home. Eden isn't so keen on the idea, but he can't imagine causing a scene over it because that would just make Nikolai feel worse. As a favour to Nikolai, Ginger offers to let Eden train with her while he's gone, if Eden doesn't want to go home as well.
In the end, Eden decides to go home too, to be with his parents and sister. He's not happy about leaving Charlie and Haru, but it's not as if he isn't coming back. (Mishka pays for Nikolai's airfare, and Eden's parents pay for his).
Nikolai has no idea what Mishka is going to need, and he's never really had to take care of anyone to such a full extent before, but he's determined to do his best, whatever is needed. Nikolai and Mishka decide that Mishka should stay at Nikolai's house because Mishka lives in a walk-up flat above a shop. At Nikolai's place, the guest room is downstairs, and there's also a complete bathroom on the ground floor, so it'll be much easier for him to manage.
Mishka is dramatic about being in pain, so the first several days are difficult. Fortunately, there are lots of people they can call on for help, including Beth-Anne and Natascha, and Nikolai's grandfather who absolutely adores Mishka and spends hours just sitting with him and reading to him while Nikolai trains with Eden, runs errands and gets stuff done around the house.
Once things settle down, they find that they're able to focus on reconnecting.
Mishka doesn't want Nikolai to return to Japan, and deep down, Nikolai doesn't really want to either. Unfortunately, Nikolai doesn't feel like he can make that decision on his own. He promises Mishka that he'll come back as soon as he can.
I've actually been thinking about how Mishka might be a study in contrasts to some degree. I think he fits that old meme 'looks like he could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll'.
Physically, he's a big person; not just tall (193cm) but also really broad and muscular. He looks intimidating, and is the sort of person who other people generally give extra room to pass on a sidewalk. But, the thing is, Mishka is actually very quiet and gentle and he's shy to the point of being timid. He may be assertive on the ice, but in everyday situations he's easily intimidated and not always confident.
Based on physical appearance alone, one might assume that Mishka would be the protector, but it was actually Nikolai who more often protected him. Mishka is the one who panics when he gets lost or hears unexpected loud noises, and the one who wants to rescue all the stray animals and who cries at sad movies. He loves to cuddle, and finds it regrettable that he never gets to be the little spoon.
He likes to claim that Nikolai "rescued" him, and thinks they were destined by fate to be together.
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THE EGG IN THE BELL JAR
A POEM I WROTE TO REFLECT UPON MY YEAR
It's such a strange state of mind. In that hang time between Christmas Eve and New Years, as every year draws to a close, drawing to a crawl sometime after the anniversary comes around of the day that I was born in late October after 9/11 to a world that mightn't yet have realised just how it was going to change, in that hang time between Christmas Eve and New Year's Day I ask myself, well, how did I get here? And just where am I going, and why?
As a trans woman who mostly still presents male, as a Marxist who's not yet done more than read the books and change the way they think, as a nascent little philosopher reading, page by page line by line when I can be bothered to read Schopenhauer or Zappfe or Leopardi, those pessimists who thunk themselves into corners, figuring it all out and using too many words to say that it's really not very good but can't even have the distinction of saying it's all pointless. As a nascent artist figuring it all out and learning the trades who's so long struggled with creative block, as a victim of mental illness and physical illness and chronic pain and complex trauma, who can't decide whether her first brush with death should be marked as the fever as a baby that she barely survived or the first time her brother picked up a weapon in his violence acted out upon her or that time a few years after Mum (we were so very close) vomited up her blood and died that she wrestled there for months in the bed she'd slept with mother in for far beyond her childhood years and thought up a plan and decided that suicide really WOULD be the better option and saw the headlights of the car upon her at night cutting the dark until she could feel them and then walked home. As after all this still a lonely bastard. I ask myself again.
It's going to get worse. Mostly things beyond your control, but some things you choose to do and the path you choose to follow, walking a line across the knife's edge the hard way when the precipice is just right there on each side and you can see your destination drawing up to a point beneath you as you walk. I'm mentally strong enough that through all the things I've been through that everyone from the past doesn't matter and that no one in that falesly imagined cruelly imagined cruelly inflicted but cruelly real future gives a damn about if I won't pay them therapist's wages or wages paid in art and clever words that most won't read. I'm mentally strong enough that after all that I keep choosing to take the path of most resistance. Even past the point when I can't get the drugs to numb myself anymore. Why is my brain strong enough now to keep ticking? To not learn its limits? To endure all the things that it does to itself? And why is it weak enough to do those things in the first place?
It's such a strange state of mind. Such a strange state of affairs. In some writing I did previously, I can't remember the context, I keep having the vision of an egg inside a bell jar.
You're a mad inventor, or a sorceror, an alchemist. You've ingeniously found a way to put all the energies of an explosion within an eggshell. Of course, this miracle can only exist in that state for an instant before the shell can no longer contain it and it breaks and blows you and maybe whoever is around apart. So you put it in an ingenious little bell jar, worked up from thin glass. The bell jar stops time, like someone has paused a video and gotten up off the couch to wander out the door distracted, and time goes on in space all around it. Anything just slightly too careless or cruel, you worry, could shatter this marvellous assembly to pieces and the rest of the world would only see the violence. See a mad sorceror, a mad man in a dress, who was silly and learned through all his life silliness and should've known better but now is gone, and some will say what a shame and maybe some will say good riddance. But anyways The World, seeing only the violence, and being well accustomed to violence and energy far greater than that little spark which is all that you can muster up and scratch together, well it just turns its head to the past and moves on. You are left with this miracle, just this explosion within an egg inside a bell jar, and so you put it away so care-full, on a pillow, with the other little kitsches in your cabinet. In your drawer by the pillow where you rest your tired head, and until you fall asleep, restless, to face the sun again you ask Yourself,
Well,
Why?
And then you write a little in your diary and you shut your eyes again.
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Uphold - LotCF & transported! Reader
a/n: idk what came over me but when i got my senses back a whole day has passed and I've written 12 pages
Warnings: might be ooc, male reader, use of prince for reader (like how in some they call the duke's children prince/princess yeah like that), there's romantic feelings involved but it wasn't that touched upon, i might've messed up the timelines, novel spoilers (but i think they were quite vague), if you hate soft characters then reader is not for you, bit of angst, death, Alberu and Cale focused
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
If there's something missing in the warnings let me know so I can add it
Any form of interaction toward the post is appreciated <333
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‘It hurts’
Red. All you can see was red.
Was it your blood? Was it someone else's? You have no idea.
Dying. You know you're dying.
This war has been going on for too long. Too many have been lost. Your family, friends, acquaintances. Almost all of them are gone.
Except for one
Cale Henituse
He's the only one left in your life, and you’re the only one left in his.
And now you’re dying. About to leave him.
‘Ah till the end I haven’t said my feelings’
Maybe it was for the best. You aren’t quite sure yourself. All your brain can register is the stinging pain in your chest along with the pounding that just keeps on getting worse.
Red. Everything was red. Still you can make out the silver armor with a bit of red hair sticking out.
You try to weakly reach out your hand towards the blurry figure you know too well. Not sure whether you’re reaching the right place. In spite of that you still reach out, hoping to at least feel his warmth for the last time.
“...I …I’m so rry”
Tears were probably flowing out from your eyes. You weren’t quite sure from all the blood on you but it felt like you were crying.
‘I’m sorry for leaving you alone’
‘I’m sorry for not telling you my true feelings’
‘I’m sorry for even harboring this feelings’
’Just for everything, I’m sorry’
Sadly you don’t have the energy to even speak those words.
Aside from that you believe you have no other regrets. You tried your best with the war. Try your best to uphold your family name. Protect the country, the world.
“Don’t, don’t talk. Save your energy help will come soon. Your crown prince hyung is on his way”
Were there tears flowing down from his face? You weren’t sure. At this point even your hearing was fuzzy.
It was too late to be saved and both of you knew that.
“D on’t le ave, plea se. Just ..just stay w ith me till the en d”
“Okay okay, I’m here I won’t leave you. Your other hyung is nearby too, just hang on.”
Frail, bloody hands gripped strong, shaky ones. For the last moments of your life you just want to be at peace and spend time with your childhood friends. Something you haven’t gotten the chance to do ever since the war started. You think the times you’ve seen your crown prince hyung’s face can be counted on one hand.
“I’m here, your other hyung is here. I’ve also called a healer.”
You didn’t manage to catch his next words clearly. But you can understand that it’s him apologizing that he can’t use the star of healing on you. You’re aware that it’s no one’s fault. He used the star of healing earlier and it wasn’t a waste so that’s good with you.
Black spots fill your sight and your hearing becomes more fuzzy. Your grip on Cale’s hands was getting weaker and weaker.
“Hyu ng …Alberu hyung. Ple ase ta ke care of the king dom.”
‘I’m sorry I can’t continue to take care of it with you.’
You know you’re time was almost up
You have a lot of regrets but you know it’s no use mulling over them now
But still. Before you pass, maybe you can say it softly.
Before you rest eternally
Before you depart forever
“I ..I love you”
‘So much that leaving you hurts more than dying’
Not sure how you managed to say those three words coherently. You were glad to be able to convey your feelings at the last moment.
With that, the black spots have fully dominated your sight and the world seemed so quiet and peaceful.
‘I died…’
‘I’m sure I died’
Waking up with a slight jolt you see yourself inside your room. Specifically, you’re inside your room at the Henituse state.
“Is something the matter young master?”
Ron was standing by your bedside with a tray of tea and your favorite sweets. He looked like a concerned old man. But you know better after finding out his an assassin.
“... oh.. Um Ron, what’s the date?”
Confusion and dread filled your entire being. Sure you have a room at the Henituse territory as you seem to practically live there, but you haven’t been at this place since the war broke out. That and you were sure Ron left the Henituse family a few years ago.
“...The 29th day of the 3rd month in the 781st year of the felix calendar. Is there a problem, young master? You seem to be sweating.”
If it was Cale it could be passed as him being drunk. That wasn’t the case with you though. You were always the rational one between the two of you. The one reeling the problematic young master and preventing him from doing great damage. So of course if you’re the one asking people are bound to be concerned.
“I.. I had a nightmare. Please get me something refreshing to drink. Ah, but leave the tea.”
Being the ever attentive butler Ron is, he already has a towel ready and was wiping the bullets of sweat that has gathered on your wake after getting your permission. He also already told someone to prepare your bath and get a drink from the kitchen.
You just let everything happen in a daze. You weren’t sure what happened or what’s going on as the servants helped you bathe. But you were sure that time turned back.
It turned back a day before Cale met the soon-to-be renowned swordsman, Choi Han.
The ever capable butler Ron observed as the other servants attended to you. It has been almost an hour since you woke up but you still seem to be out of it. He was sure that nothing happened yesterday as he personally watched his two puppy young masters.
For some reason though, two cute puppies are suddenly acting strange.
Well it might really just be a nightmare but Ron was still suspicious.
“Young master Cale will be dining with everyone for breakfast. Shall you do the same?”
“Huh? Oh? Cale at the breakfast table? Sure I’ll go too”
“I shall make preparations then.”
The old man was still concerned yet he still followed orders and started preparing so the duke’s son could join breakfast.
‘Something’s weird’
‘That’s not Cale’
Yes it’s Cale but at the same time it’s not. As if someone took over his body. No one else seemed to notice it so you kept quiet.
As you ponder on how that could be possible you remembered something.
“Young master, I don’t have much left in this world so I have to tell you something.”
“Auntie Jour please don’t say that. Cale will be sad.”
“I know, that’s why I need you to take care of him when I’m gone. Both of your souls are special, that’s why you have to remember that even if one day you wake up and Cale doesn’t seem to be our Cale you still should take care of that Cale.”
“But if it’s not our Cale then why should I help him?”
“Because it’s probably our Cale’s plan. I know I may sound odd to you right now, but I believe that you’re a bright child. Everything will make sense in due time.”
Not long after that the news of Jour’s death reached your ears. It was also the start of your best friend acting like trash after the count brought home a new family.
You knew that every action Cale takes has a meaning behind it. Years of knowing each other and having each other’s back solidified the trust the two of you have.
And that trust is exactly what you’ll believe in. Trust and the late Countess Jour’s words.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a forehead coming in contact with yours.
“You seem to be sick, you should’ve stayed in bed.”
“I didn’t know.. I’ll do better next time”
Excusing yourself from the dining room, you tried to make your exit and go back to your room. Your legs seem to have other plans as not even 5 steps in it gave up on you.
Thankfully, Cale has quick reflexes and managed to catch you in time.
‘Stupid weak body, stupid regressing thingy’
Embarrassed, you wanted for the ground to swallow you whole. You didn’t even know this guy and you already showed your stupid side within the first hour of meeting him!
“You know your body was weak, why did you even bother?”
“Ehehe I’m sorry hyung.”
“Haizz, just make sure to rest. We’ll inform the duchy about your condition.”
Giving him a toothy grin, you got out of his embrace as a maid came to help you go back to your room. No matter how shameful that incident is on your end, you got to know that the new Cale seems to know quite a bit about this world. But it’s not enough as his etiquette is lacking. You would probably need to help him with that.
Your Cale might be trash but you know he still has class.
Unfortunately your plans were put off as you were in and out of consciousness. Regressing seems to take a lot of toll from your already weak body. Well, for you this is better than war.
Even though you were mostly in charge of tactics, there were still times you had to go out to the battlefield yourself as your forces were too little compared to the White Star’s forces.
‘-10/10 wouldn’t recommend it. I especially hated how I always get a fever after a month of fighting.’
You get chills just by thinking about it. Ron, the one Cale assigned to take care of sick you, seems to have misunderstood and thought that your cold is getting worse.
“Oh no, the young master seems to be shivering. Get a new blanket while I change the basin water. Also ask Beacrox to prepare soup for him to eat.”
Contrarily, you actually felt hot. Not that you’re in any condition to talk so you just let them do your thing as you lost your consciousness for the nth time.
Thus you spent a few days like that. By the time you got better to the point where you can play again Cale seem to have a new companion.
“...This poor dongsaeng got sick for a few days and you already found someone to replace him huh?”
Surprisingly there wasn’t a scar on your friend's ‘beloved face’ as he calls it, even after meeting Choi Han. Instead, the man you know as the youngest swordmaster seems to be following Cale like a stray kitten waiting to be adopted.
Meanwhile Cale Henituse didn’t even hide his done everything with expression as you circle Choi Han. The count’s eldest son just sighed at the two of you, not even giving you a proper response as he opted to drink tea instead.
“Hey you! Why are you slouching huh? Sit up straight and hold your cup properly! Wipe that stain on the corner of your lip too. I know you can feel it. Aish this hyung, how many times do I have to nag you about your manners! You didn’t even offer me tea like how a true gentleman is supposed to do! You may be trash but I won’t let you devolve into a full on barbarian and forget your manners!”
Needless to say, the part that implies you always nag about these things are lies. Original Cale didn’t need to be reminded of any of these things as he was naturally refined. Not the same can be said about the man in front of you though so you can only make up the excuse of nagging to try and teach him.
Luckily, even though Cale showed you an annoyed expression he still did as you said. His willingness to absorb every word you say makes you think that this will be easy. Even though he was muttering about how your choice of words weren’t formal in the slightest bit.
“NO I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE HUHU THIS ISN’T EASY AT ALL, TAKE ME BACK! I SAID TAKE ME BACK”
“Young master please don’t push yourself too much. Our young master Cale will worry if you get sick again.”
“No.. just give me a few more minutes to finalize this. Cale and the others are working with no rest. I have to do the same and catch up.”
Many things happened while you were with this new Cale. The past that you knew was completely rewritten by him and everything was going well thanks to that.
You also did your best to help subtly. He doesn’t know that you regressed nor does he know that you know he's a transmigrator so you can’t just present yourself and tell him you also know what happens in the future. Additionally, his knowledge about ancient powers and races seem to exceed your own.
Still, that didn’t stop you from giving him hints about things he didn’t seem to know and guiding him. Especially when it comes to formality and people that your Cale knew personally.
Fortunately those formalities aren’t needed that much any more since you’re currently in the middle of war and not only did the Henituse household become a duchy. Their eldest son, Cale Henituse, also formally became the crown prince’s sworn brother.
Throughout all this you have been balancing your responsibilities as the youngest son of your duchy and helping Cale and his group out. Sure it was taxing and no one, not even yourself, knew how you managed to do all that work but it was very rewarding. As time passes on you slowly understand why the original Cale left this world in this new Cale’s hands.
‘Thankfully I didn't develop feelings for him. Once was enough. Two times is cringey’
One of your worries when you first regressed was the fact that you might develop feelings for Cale since he and your Cale act so much alike. As time passes though, you only seem to see him as a dependable but always annoyed older brother figure. Sure you miss the Cale that you know and you know to yourself that you still love him.
But it’s because of that love that you respect and understand his decision. It’s because of that love that you willingly helped this new person Cale left without hesitation and no expectations of a payment except for the betterment of the world.
Additionally, the people Cale gathered are good people too. Everyone’s friendly and are willing to help you to the best of their abilities. So all is well and good.
“Ron told me you wouldn’t budge so I came to get you myself.”
Sharp, reddish-brown eyes came into view as his hands took away the document containing your messy writing. His tone was nonchalant as usual but concern within those irises can be seen clearly.
“I’m sorry hyung. I got carried away with making plans for the next attack. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
You cupped his face as if hoping your touch would make him forget just how you neglect yourself.
At first Cale was a bit overwhelmed with the amount of skinship you have to offer. Sure he has read it on Birth of a Hero back at Earth but experiencing it was different.
Cale Henituse’s closest friend who’s 3 years younger than him and the same age as his brother, Bassen Henituse. The kid is always sticking close to him. No matter how dangerous the situation is or how busy the young man seems to be. But even if you’re younger than him, he didn’t feel like he was babysitting you at all.
‘Well the book did say that the two of them stood on equal grounding despite him being younger and despite Cale being the son of a count and him being the son of a duke.’
That doesn’t mean that the prince didn’t act his age. Poor young master Cale is always the subject of the man’s pranks. He is also very touchy. Holding hands or simply grabbing the edge of his clothes when they go out. Clinging close to him at every formal gathering like balls and banquets. Whining and getting jealous whenever he sees Alberu pay more attention Cale or Cale pay more attention to Alberu.
“I have no other friends aside from you two, and you guys didn’t even become friends for that long! I was friends with the two of you first so have to pay more attention to me and not leave me out!”
You would say whenever Alberu deliberately ignores you just to see your cute cheeks puff up in jealousy. Despite your pure and childish antics, there were times where Cale was amazed at your abilities. To the point of almost suspecting you.
Sure he has read about how smart and hands on you are at everything. But that can’t explain the times that your deduction of the enemies moves are scarily accurate as it was one on one. Also for someone who was raised with a diamond spoon you seem to know a lot about wars, especially strategizing for one. As if you have experience in doing that sort of stuff.
“...Are you still angry? I said I was sorry. I’ll take care of myself better. Please don’t tattle on Alberu hyung.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about it but thanks for the idea. I have a meeting with him after dinner. I'm sure he’ll be happy to hear from you.”
“No! Hyung! I said I was sorry, please! He’ll make me stay with aunt Tasha again, hyuk!”
Desperately grabbing at the redhead eating steak, you tried your best to beg him to change his mind. Regardless of the big possibility of getting scolded by Alberu, and most likely your family as he will for sure tell them, you still can’t help but laugh. During your first life when the war broke out there were little to no mundae moments like this as everyone was always on edge.
‘It’ll be nice if things stay like this forever’
Perhaps you jinxed yourself when you softly spoke to yourself about your hopes and dreams of maintaining the relationship you currently have with your hyungs and Choi Han. Because it seems as if that won’t be possible since the universe was never on your side.
Clammy hands fidgeted and tried to find a pen and paper it could scribble on. The three men and the one baby dragon in the room know that that’s your nervous reaction. Even if it wasn't, anxiety was audibly written on your face.
“Don’t be nervous, we just want to clear some things up with you.”
Hands scribbling on the pen and paper Choi Han gave you with all of your attention focused on them. You wanted to retaliate that opening the conversation by mentioning the original Cale didn’t help with your uneasiness. But you didn’t think you’re in the position to talk so you settled on scribbling more, unintentionally letting some of your inner thoughts out on the poor paper.
“Instructor is right, we aren’t angry, okay? It’s just that Cale said that the God of Death told him something that we need to confirm with you.”
Alberu tried to speak as softly as he could. He knew that you weren’t great with confrontation since the two of you were kids. You always tried to have someone that can speak up for you in case you have the tendency to clam up when questioned. But that isn’t possible right now. You’re the only one who can confirm the god’s words and answer their questions.
“That imbecile god told me and I quote
[If you have more questions about White Star and his forces it’ll be best to ask that young duke kid with you. Oh and take care of him or else the Kim Rok Soo now will have both of our heads]
That heavily implies multiple things. I’m sure I don’t need to explain each one to you, you’re a smart kid.”
It felt as though you’ve been caught red handed. Cale was right he didn’t need to explain further for you already know what the god was talking about.
Scared as you were, that didn’t stop you from explaining your situation to them. From Cale’s mother’s words to you regressing and confirming that Cale isn’t Cale through the few and rare books about regressors and transmigrators.
Furthermore for the first time since time was turned back, you finally confined just how hard your first life was. How hard it was to experience dying. The pain on your abdomen that you swear you can still feel sometimes. How you still caress the spot where you were brutally stabbed by Sayeru, the bear tribe king. For the first time in a long while you were completely vulnerable. All the tears and pain that have been holding themselves back finally let themselves out as you hug Raon as if he was a stuffed toy.
“Human, the little prince fell asleep.”
Red, swollen eyes with cheeks marred dried tears, your sleeping face resembles a poor child. Despite your arms being loose now, the balck dragon didn’t make a move to get out of your hold. On the contrary he tightens his hug as an offering to comfort you in your sleep.
“Dongsaeng, please continue taking care of him. We all know that he is a smart but fragile child. Even if he knows you aren’t the original Cale Henituse he definitely looked up to you like you're his older brother.”
“Haaa… Who do you think took care of that kid for the past two years since he got permission to tag along with me.”
Their conversation ended when Choi Han picked up the sleeping figure along with the dragon who refuses to let go so he can place them in a proper bed. Before the three of them left to further talk about business Cale and Alberu didn’t forget to advise their people to not let the man work until further notice.
“So that’s what you look like? Is that how my hyung looks too? Wow hyung you’re quite the looker yourself!”
The people inside the cintamani, especially Kim Rok Soo, were speechless as you gushed about them upon seeing them the first time.
“Yes yes now shut up and focus on your work. If you don’t finish filling those documents on time the duke said he’ll personally come to take you home.”
“Rok Soo hyung, are you seeing how your other self treats me? His so mean”
“He sounds right though, you have to finish the work unless you want to suffer the consequences.”
“Rok Soo will be Rok Soo”
Pouting, you went over your desk with Raon to finish the work assigned to you. Your family has been lenient on you with the paperwork as of late. They know just how hard the work you're doing with the crown prince and the young commander’s group. But they didn’t want you to forget how to handle territory affairs so they still assign you a bit of paperwork here and there.
You know that they’re doing it out of concern for you. You even understand where they’re coming from. Still, that doesn’t stop you from whining and kicking whenever you see your personal assistant enter the room with paperwork from the duchy.
In no time paperwork was ceased, your aide who used to hold a pen went back to holding a sword.
“My prince, I’m a knight first and foremost, therefore your safety is my priority. Playing assistant was just like a part time ”
Those were the words of comfort your kneeling knight told you while preparing for the Puzzle City war.
The whole thing was like the roller coaster on earth Rok Soo told you about. One moment things were looking good for your group, then the next moment someone on your side will become heavily injured. You tried to go to the front lines too but your gravely injured commander, Cale who’s suffering from his plate being broken for the second time, stopped you. Even though he didn’t manage to get his intentions out, you fully understood his unspoken words.
Raon is most likely the one who’s going to take over his work. The dragon is capable, great and mighty as he calls himself, but he was also used to being on the front lines. That’s where you step in, so that Raon can keep a clear head and keep the flow of communication smooth running. You have to be there as the second brain and back him up.
Like that, your side held out while Cale was recovering.
Events that happen after seem like a fever dream to you. Your hyungs and just everyone in your group seemed to be more unhinged than usual. Well they have been more unhinged since your Alberu hyung got his hands on a gun.
But thanks to those unhinged plans and crazy actions, everyone got past the hurdles that came your way. No matter how hard the Sealed God and White Star’s forces tried, you always outsmart them.
“Don’t, don’t speak. Just let me have this moment.”
You speak against the sturdy chest of your hyung who now goes by the name Kim Rok Soo. Partly it was because you were too embarrassed at the thought he’ll bring up your confession. At the same time you really just want to have a few moments of silence and embrace the hyung you haven’t seen for so long.
“Yes yes I won’t speak”
“You’re still speakingggg”
His laugh vibrated in his chest making you, the one holding onto him, feel ticklish. He might look different, sound different but you know that he's still your best friend. Your first and last love in both lives.
No matter how annoyed you are with the God of Death and his shenanigans, you’re glad that he gave you this chance. The chance to see your best friend again, even if it was possibly for the last time.
Silently, you listened as the two men spoke to each other. As you listened you were also enlightened as to what happened. How Cale and Rok Soo exchanged positions. The deal made with God of Death. Why Cale- you guess he goes by Rok Soo now, chose to go and live on earth.
“It’s time to go back.”
Hellos always ended with goodbyes, and this meeting was no different. You wished you could spend more time here. There are still a lot of things you want to say. Stories you want to share. But that’s selfish and you know it.
“Hopefully we can maybe meet in our next lives. Then perhaps we can straighten things out between us then.”
Rok Soo whispered softly as he kissed your forehead goodbye. Too stunned to speak, you could only hold your forehead while running back to Cale red faced.
“That explains why you were so willing to go with his plans even when he left without an explanation.”
“Shut up! Shut up! It’s not like that!”
#Spotify#trash of the count's family#lout of the count’s family#tcf#cale henituse#lcf#alberu crossman#lotcf#totcf#choi han#raon miru#tcf x reader#lcf x reader#tcf fic#lcf fic
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in your opinion, what becomes of sonic the hedgehog in his adult years? (or just later in life?)
(cw for talks for mortality and such)
I've adopted a lot of my adult Sonic headcanons from @sonicaspeed123, mostly the fact that... well, y'know what they say, live fast & die young. Sonic is very much a mortal, and considering the kinda life he leads he certainly gets a serious injury in his 20s, and I'd be stunned if he makes it to 30 (yet considering the crazy feats he's accomplished, there's a chance he'd push 40). Regardless, he knows for a fact Eggman will live longer than him, or at least has a successor prepared in the event he kicks the bucket (Metal Sonic?), so he considers Tails his own successor. He works hard to prepare the kid for a future of world saving while still letting him be a kid, something he himself didn't get - preparation or a normal childhood.
Sonic's always been disabled (chronic pain) but he's ignored it his whole life, until it gets too bad to ignore in his early adulthood, and/or he makes it way worse through his recklessness. When that time comes, he starts using mobility aids - he's initially very depressed about losing some mobility, but he gradually becomes completely accepting of and accustomed to it, though he still pushes himself too far sometimes; walking without crutches on his worst days, literally jumping out of his wheelchair at the first sign of a Badnik, I mean he's Sonic, middle name Goes Fast, he'd run on a broken leg - and he probably has! Depressingly, he doesn't care about the long term negatives of pushing himself like that because even he knows he'd never see the big five-oh without a miracle.
Because of how aware he is of his mortality, I'd bet he'd hate the idea of long term committed relationships. There's some he absolutely couldn't avoid, like taking Tails under his wing, but when it comes to romantic relationships... He's on the aro spectrum to begin with, but even then, he'd never subject the people he does feel a connection with to his lifestyle. Especially Shadow. Sonic loves Shadow's company, and his softness, and his smile, his morals, the way the moonlight sparkles off his eyes, the infinite sweetness in his ever-rare laugh... but the longer he thinks about living life with him, the more depressed he gets. He refuses to be another Maria, he cares about Shadow too much to let that happen. Sometimes he feels guilt for allowing himself to be such a close friend in the first place - hell, during depressive episodes he considers himself a greedy asshole for befriending anyone to begin with. He's the kinda guy who refuses to even cry around his friends, but he knows for a fact he'll eventually die around them.
I don't know how exactly he gets over those feelings. Probably by reminding himself that, for what it's worth, he's a great friend in the moment; he's the best father- I mean, brother, that Tails has ever had, he's gotten Amy and Knuckles out of their own emotional pickles from time to time, and he's really cracked Shadow's shell. The list goes on, but when he's gone, he knows that that's what they'll all remember. That's what everyone will remember. And they'll appreciate that, even if it hurts to lose him.
He doesn't want to die, but in his mind it's a balancing act: He has to be as good of a friend as possible to counteract the pain of losing someone so close, but paradoxically, in becoming so close, he only makes that pain worse. That's how the depression spirals start.
He probably goes on a year long journey of self discovery at some point during his mid-life crisis at 20, learns to process all this stuff and recognize that there's only the moment, and you never go anywhere if you always dwell on the past or worry about the future. Every world has its end. I know that's kinda sad, but that's why we gotta live life to the fullest in the time we have. At least, that's what he figures.
Anyways thanks for coming to my "Sonic dies young" TED Talk.
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Fic Master List
Figured I'd collect it all in one place - and this way it's clear which stories go together and which stand alone.
Overwatch - while this is all technically OW fanfic, I've created most of the backstory. You don't need to have played the game at all to understand the stories.
A Soul That's Born in Cold and Rain-'verse (in chronological-ish order)
Fairy bread - Very first RoadRat fic I ever wrote. In which Roadhog is sick and Junkrat manages to take care of him.
The fire don't know - in which Junkrat gets sick and struggles with whether he can trust Roadie in this new vulnerability.
part 1, part 2, part 3
Once warmed my hands over a burning Maserati - in which everything feels wrong after a plan gone bad, and Junkrat wants to do the right thing for a change.
part 1, part 2, part 3
The shape that I'm in now - in which Junkrat doubts and Roadhog helps him feel better.
I fretted fire - in which it's bushfire weather and Junkrat keeps watch.
Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves - in which the roles are reversed. Roadie finds himself in trouble and Junkrat has to bail him out.
Be as you've always been - in which Junkrat acts first, thinks later, and has some regrets, and Roadhog is haunted.
O Tidings of Comfort and Joy - a little, fluffy, melancholy Christmas fic.
Buried in a burning flame is love and its decisive pain - in which Junkrat and Roadhog join Lúcio, Hana and other members of Overwatch on a holiday trip, and it brings their relationship to a crisis point.
part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
My heart as spent as ashes - in which Junkrat and Roadhog have to face their past, to see what they can make of the future.
part 1
It's All Fun and Games-'verse (these are pretty much purely fetishfic. Not much plot.)
Don't you ever tame your demons - in which Rat comes down sick and discovers something unexpected about Roadie.
part 1, part 2, part 3
Let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised - in which Junkrat and Roadhog attend a fancy party and Rat uses the opportunity to tease Hog. Hog doesn't take it lying down.
part 1, part 2, part 3
I am the offering and the fire which consumes it - in which Junkrat and Roadhog rob a Hindu temple and Junkrat discovers an allergy.
The 'verse where Junkrat, Roadhog, and Lúcio are together
Be Still My Indelible Friend - in which Roadhog is sick and just wants to be left alone. Doesn't he?
Offer Me My Deathless Death - in which Lúcio invites Junkrat and Roadhog to a Cosmic Mass, everyone must get stoned, and fun is had by all.
Love's Perfect Ache - in which Junkrat gets caught stealing, and is suspected of taking advantage.
I wish I could put the blame on you-'verse (a different depiction of Junkrat/Roadhog. This is not a healthy relationship, necessarily. But it is kinky. And fetishy. Mostly porn-without-plot)
I'm going all the way down, I'm leaving today - Roadhog's gotten all he needs from Rat and says he's moving on. Rat gives him everything, to keep him. Dom/sub, allergies.
My lips may promise but my heart is a whore - Junkrat's itchy and pushes Roadhog to get what he wants. Dom/sub, allergies.
The Sandman
Fly down into the endless mysteries - Just before closing time, Desire pays Hob and Dream an unexpected visit, and leaves them a gift. This is unattached to my other Sandman fics.
To love what is lovely, and will not last - Hob and Retired!Dream celebrate the longest night with a gathering of friends. As usual, Hob wishes for more.
A Thing in Me Still Dreams of Trees - Written for Sicktember 2022 day two prompt, homesick. Morpheus escapes the fishbowl and finds himself yearning from home, even once he's returned. (no pairing in this fic.)
The Leaves Dream Now - After Morpheus' escape from the fishbowl, though still dealing with lingering consequences, he visits Hob, searching for shelter from storms within and without. (Dreamling, but can be read as platonic.)
The Magnus Archives
It couldn't be had, what he wanted to hold (part 1) - post-series, somewhere else? somewhen else? A holiday, a cabin in Scotland. Everything's perfectly normal, isn't it?
Your hand in mine, we walk the miles - tiny ficlet originally written for @caramelfuzz bday. A moment where Jon discovers a shred of humanity left in him, imagined between eps 162 and 163.
There's no time in the bardo, no time in the in-between - a post-ep200 idea of Jon's experience in the bardo, a liminal place between our life and the afterlife.
Comes the summer rain - a short Jon/Martin safe house fic
D:20 - Fantasy High - this is (very) loosely based on Dimension:20's live action tabletop RPG. All the actors are adults, and I've written the characters as adults. Can also be read as O/C's.
The Dreams in Which I'm Dying - Twenty-some-odd years after the events of Sophomore year, Fabian faces down one of the last pirates of the Crimson Claw. It doesn't go well, and he goes to Garthy O'Brien for a port in the storm.
Worn out places, worn out faces - As proprietor of a pirate brothel, Gold Gardens, Garthy is the one who takes care of others. Can they learn to receive care?
The only heaven I'll be sent to - "Lovey, there are a plethora of ways in which I enjoy getting down." Garthy discovers a new way.
Lord of the Rings
Light of Some Kind - a very rare foray into f/f writing. Not sneezefic. The reality of marriage is different than Eowyn has imagined. She finds comfort and understanding in Arwen.
Bandom ah, the dreaded RPS. While this is technically based on Ed Vedder of Pearl Jam, and Anthony Kiedis of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, it can be read as O/Cs.
Saw things so much clearer - on the anniversary of the Roskilde festival, Ed deals with grief and self-recrimination. Anthony helps him see more clearly.
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Just needed to vent for a second about my situation:
Okay so about a month ago I made a post to multiple accounts (I don't think I made one here, mostly it was to inform people of late messages to the other accounts) about my living situation and complications due to it. I just wanted to say that as of now, my mom has saved my childhood home and I'm going to be staying there for the time being.
Over the last 2 months, the people I was going to move in with have been having complications with their own living situation. I'm going to be vague in this post bc it's just a vent, but I needed stuff off my chest.
So one of my friends (that I've been close friends with since middle school) is engaged to someone. This person I have become friends with, but I didn't like them at first due to their personality. I have grown to accept it and I've been good friends with them since. The fiancee's mom I am also friends with, and I have grown fond of. I was helping them bc their landlord is a real prick and has been making them paranoid for months, and gave an eviction notice for things that weren't called for. They recently had trouble with another roommate that screwed them over, so we all planned to move somewhere bc I was gonna lose my house anyway. I don't have a job rn, and I am $3,500 in debt as this post is being written. They said they would help me on my feet, helped me get a phone bc my line had been disconnected, and said I would pay rent once I got stuff figured out. I am forever grateful for their help.
I am an alcoholic and I have mental illness. Around the time of this discussion, I had a relapse and it severely messed up my relationship with my fiancee. I decided to go sober again, and as it stands, today I am 47 days sober. I am very proud of myself, but I have been struggling lately to stay that way. I am severely depressed, severely anxious, and my BPD has been so bad since the last day of my relapse. During the last day of the relapse I had gone to the friends birthday party where I blacked out, and it caused a major argument between me and my fiancee, and I am currently making amends with what happened and growing from it.
With all of this, I have been ill. I had a stomach pain around my diaphragm, and a numb tongue. I had gone to the doctor and got started on medication. I have my second doctor visit tomorrow, and although I don't have the pain, I have been struggling to eat, drink, or move around a lot. I only get out of my house to go to AA, and I have been getting an extreme pain in my spinal area. The stress of everyone around me made my symptoms worse at the time, so I barely spoke to people during this time if it wasn't urgent.
However, that had gone disrespected, as I was in a group chat consisting of me, 2 of my friends, the friends fiancee, and my fiancee. The group chat was meant for ranting, but turned into people coming to me to rant privately and instead in the group chat posting memes and spamming. I had asked multiple times for the group chat to stay for ranting, which was disrespected, and so I muted the chat. In the past, people would ask if it was okay to vent to me, which I would give a yes or no based on my mental state, which then turned into me being the only one asking and them ranting whenever. I have struggled talking to people due to fear of abandonment bc of this.
I decided not to move in with those people due to multiple reasons. The friends fiancee's attitude, and how it kept triggering me and my own mental health were beginning to affect my sobriety. In their house there was alcohol and weed, and I told them before it shouldn't bother me as long as it wasn't in reach, but then had been on my mind a lot while there. I don't have a car, and I like a specific AA meeting because it's smaller, and my social anxiety isn't as bad bc there is at least 3 faces I recognize every time I go. I felt like a burden on some occasions, asking if they could take me. It had gotten to a point where the last time I saw them, I planned on taking the bus bc of the fiancee's attitude, and I didn't want to cause an issue, and they took me and I cried during the meeting.
I do not currently go to therapy bc of my financial situation, so I have been relying on AA a lot to help me through my situations, as I am struggling to stay clean during all of this. It brought to light my own boundaries and decisions in the process, which I had expressed to the friend during our outing the day of that AA meeting i had previously mentioned. I had expressed how I really felt, and how I felt going forward, and how if something didn't change I wasn't sure of the future. She came to me and expressed emotions on how she truly felt as well, and I was able to explain that during the panic of their situation, I felt like a mediator and I didn't want that. I told them how it made me really anxious and I was worried for them, and how they were going to handle stuff. I told her at the end of the day I'm listening to her decisions and opinions the most bc she is my friend. Without her, the other people in the house mean little to me. She told me she understood. Before this, I had explained on why I wasn't coming over as much, due to the stress of everything and my health. I had said it rudely, and I apologized for that on multiple occasions, bc there is no excuse for my behavior.
A while ago, 2 texts where sent. One from the friend, and one from the fiancee's mom. The friend expressed not knowing what was going on before saying that we (me and the possible other person moving in) where at fault for things regarding the move, and to talk to them. I had called and expressed my emotions regarding the move, once again, and said I was no longer moving in due to the lack of information from the people in the house. I had wanted to do a call on that Sunday (this call previously mentioned was 2 days later) but didn't receive any information on if it was alright to do so. The text from the fiancee's mom didn't make sense, saying about "broken trust" when I had been honest from the beginning.
I am no longer moving, but I am still in financial trouble, and the urge to relapse is so strong I can barely do anything else. My fiancee is the only one talking to me, and I am so frustrated about how everything has come around, I can barely do anything else. My non-alive ideation is through the roof, and I don't think it would matter to anyone, anyway.
Everyone I've talked to about the situation (mostly the people from AA) have said I'm making the right decision setting this boundary for my sobriety, and to just believe it will work out. I feel awful in my decision, and as if I'm doing something wrong, and that I've lost everyone in caring for myself right now. I really want to get better and for people to want me for me, not what I do for them. It's so hard making friends anymore, that I just want to never make any ever again.
I am working on finding a job, and with that I will move out once I get this debt paid off. But it feels so far away, I feel like it'll never happen. And I feel like this could have been avoided if people just took the initiative and just focused on who already gave an answer, not the potentials.
I was supposed to talk the them Friday, but I no longer wish to do so. If I am "breaking trust" by setting a boundary, there is no point in me explaining my decision, because they already made theirs.
I am getting back into my own religion, and have been speaking with mother nature lately and trying to find some answers. I have been talking to my deceased father as well, praying he'll help me keep the friends that are true and reveal people's intentions. I have been speaking with my fiancee a lot to help me through this, and explaining my thoughts towards things and being more open about my dark thoughts and what I am truly feeling. I know I'll make it through this. I just don't know how.
My ED is flaring like crazy, and since I don't have any money it's only encouraging it more. My life feels like I've hit rock bottom. I'm laying on it, just wanting to stand back up and crawl out of it. I know I can. I just have to do it somehow.
I am trying to stay positive about all of this, but it's so hard. I just want to lie down and rot. I have a wonderful fiancee who makes sure to take care of me when he can. Without him I don't think I'd survive this.
I just needed stuff off my chest, and I didn't feel right leaving it on my sad blog, because I just want it out there. I want to be seen and heard, and know that it'll work out. I'm hoping my prayers and willingness for it to work out will let it. I just need a little hope that I can make it through this. Even if it's just a funny picture on tumblr, I just need something to survive another day. I just need another 24 hours. I say that every day anymore.
I just need to be cared for like I care for everyone else.
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no. 1
I have not been on tumblr in years, but returning here to write what will essentially be diary entries feels appropriately melodramatic.
Almost a year ago I got with somebody for the first time. Not just a first time "getting with" - I had never so much as kissed anyone before that (I can't remember if he knows that). At first I was so naively happy. I thought he was cool. As much as it pains me to admit it, I genuinely did like him. And I thought he liked me.
As such, we fooled around a few more times before officially going all the way. It was at that point that everything went downhill, though it should have been much sooner. The sex was bad. Even though I convinced myself in the moment that it was worth going through with (and doing once more...), it was just so bad. Objectively. I was definitely not any good for him, but honestly it was horrific for me. I have a high pain tolerance and do not cry, but I cried just a little then. I don't think he noticed, or if he did, he pretended not to. It hurt in a way that I later learned is not normal. In retrospect I've come to believe those women on tiktok that proclaim that your body tries to reject a partner that isn't good for you; mine certainly did then.
The physical pain was one thing, but you can just lay there and take that. Without exaggeration I can say that that night was the start of the lowest I have ever felt mentally (if not the lowest, certainly the lowest I have been made to feel by another person). He had been so polite in asking if every little thing was alright, and then out of nowhere (that's how it felt) there was a hand gripping my neck and then slapping me. I was in shock. I didn't say anything or try to move because it was such a shock to my system (you could say... a slap in the face... :P). When it was over he told me to go to the bathroom and I had to stay in there for ages, both to collect myself and because I thought I was bleeding out. It looked like a crime scene. I came back, he fell asleep turned away from me, and I have never felt more lonely. Tried to go at it again the next morning and had to stop because my body couldn't take it. He would never fully walk me out of his place and that always pissed me off. Went home on the bus and felt numb. Felt numb for the rest of the day until he messaged with an unfunny joke about how there were bloodstains. The numbness was gone and I wanted to throw up. A month of painfully dry messages sent once a day (and then once every 2 days, then every few), and I did it again. God knows why. I think I believed that it would be better, having gotten the first time out of the way. It wasn't.
I saw him less than 48 hours later at an event, and the first thing he said to me was that he forgot I was coming. I would shoot myself in the foot before saying that to another person. "I do not listen to what you say because you are insignificant to me, and I am going to announce that so you know you are insignificant to me." The hell.
I guess in a way he got what he wanted: he has a fetish and I checked the right boxes, apparently. I was able to figure out that he did on my own, but recently I've been told that his fetish is apparently infamous. Since my hypothesis was proved there, I feel that I can also say he watches too much (any) porn: the out-of-the-blue choking and slapping and general disregard for my wellbeing make me think that at a very essential level he sees women only as objects, and ones for his pleasure at that. I really picked a winner.
In conclusion, this experience is the biggest shame and embarrassment of my life (according to google they are two different things but both apply). I am so horrified that that man can say he's been with me. I hate that it took me a few whole months to be able to decisively say that I never want to touch that man again. I hate that I still think about it to this day. I hate that all the dates I have since went on have gone so poorly that I cannot say from personal experience that not all men are like that. And I know logically that they're not. But the experience has sort of made me asexual.
Will maybe post again on another night where I am overthinking this (lots of nights). Part of me doesn't want anyone to ever read this. Part of me is somehow hoping that he'll read this (I don't think he has tumblr) and realize why I can't respect him (I don't think he has the maturity to self-reflect like that). I have moved on obviously but would still like for it to become a very distant memory. <3
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Been a while since I've posted any writing here, but here we are!
Prompt Song: 30 Purple Birds by why mona
AU: Other Akio is Survivor AU
Words: 982
Summary: Akio has a small 'funeral' for those parts of himself he has lost.
Akio woke at sunrise. The house was silent once more, and he walked to the window to look out at the clouds.
These eyes weren’t his. But he used them. They were his now. He had to keep going for both of them. Yami and Akio...he had to keep going for them.
He grabbed his sweater and put the broken Wayfinder in his pocket.
He opened the window as silently as he could, and climbed out it. He walked out to see the sky better than from inside. He sighed softly and reached into his pocket, feeling the pieces. He closed his eyes for a moment before he started walking, looking up at the sky again. It was a chilly morning, and the clouds reminded him of that day that he had left home the first time.
But he knew he couldn’t go where he really wanted to to do this unless he asked for help, but he couldn’t—
“Where do you think you’re going on your own?”
Akio turned around to see Haru standing there, arms crossed, brow furrowed.
Handy enough. Figured, too. He didn’t know how to reply at first, instead, he looked down, letting out a soft sigh.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Just on a walk.”
“Last time—“
“I know what happened last time!” Akio snapped.
“Oh…” Haru reached out a hand, his face changing in an instant. That was when Akio noticed tears running down his own face.
“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. Will you just...let it go? I feel bad enough.”
“Your...fault?” Haru walked up to him. “Hey, I’m not mad at you for getting hurt, I’m just—worried, and…”
“Stop…” Akio shook his head. He hadn’t told Haru anything. “Will you take me out to the islet?”
“Huh?”
“I’ll tell you all about it as we go. You of all people...deserve to know the truth.”
“Let me tell our folks—“ Haru stopped when he saw Akio’s face. “No...Let’s go.”
They started walking, this time side by side. Akio took a deep breath, looking toward the horizon and the docks in the distance. He couldn’t look down. It hurt too bad...that position was too much to bear…
“Yami’s gone.”
“I...got that feeling,” Haru said.
“And not just Yami…”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t know him. You didn’t get the chance to. You were supposed to, but...I was too greedy…” Akio paused. “The real me. No. The first me.”
“The first you?” Haru sounded concerned.
“Don’t have that ‘you’re crazy’ voice. I know I am. That’s why I’m here, Haru. Because I am crazy.” Akio laughed, but it was pained. “No. That’s not the point. I need to tell him goodbye, okay? He’s dead. Yami’s dead. I need to tell them goodbye.”
“Oh.” Haru was quiet for a minute.
They reached the boat and climbed in, silent for that moment, and Haru began to row.
“He needed someone to take care of him. He wanted to die, and I came to be to keep him alive.” Akio paused. “It was supposed to be for just a little while, just until I found our parents, but…I forgot. He made me forget, because he didn’t want to come back. But he was supposed to come back. I should have made him come back. Because I didn’t, and he wasn’t strong enough to survive the heart fracture. And now I’m all that’s left.”
“That’s…”
“I know. It sounds impossible. That I made it up, or that I’m some kind of interloper, but it’s the truth. But…” Akio knew that tears were falling from his eyes. But still, he just stared out at the horizon. “He was good. Better than me. But he needed help, so I helped...and I forgot that I was ever not here. Until he was gone.
“I wish I had gotten to know him as a friend instead. I wish I could have been like Yami. But...now I’ll never have that chance. He’s gone. And Yami’s gone. My best friend...you’re my in person best friend, but—“
“I get it. Yami was literally part of you,” Haru said.
“Yami deserved better. Yami deserved to live. They both deserved to live. Now they’re gone, and I can’t get them back. They’re gone forever. And…” He sighed.
They reached the islet.
“A funeral. That’s what we’re here for,” Haru deduced.
Akio nodded. “Yeah...They’re dead.”
“I wish I could’ve known them too, if they were that important to you, Akio,” Haru said.
They walked up to the paopu tree. Akio sighed and pulled out the broken Wayfinder.
“Akio, Yami...I’m so sorry.” Akio looked at the pieces in his hands. “I never should have thrown destiny away. If I hadn’t, then...you’d still be here.” He looked out at the horizon. “It all ended...out here on this island…”
He looked at the Wayfinder again. “I can’t fix this, Haru. I don’t remember how it was made. I didn’t make it, after all. The first me did.”
“Oh...Oh!” Haru blinked. “I get it now!”
“Huh?”
“I understand now. That’s all I meant.” Haru sighed. “Why you hadn’t fixed it…” He paused. “I’m so, so sorry that I’ve been so...cold.”
Akio shook his head. “No. I just…” Akio felt the tears streaming again and wiped them away. “Thank you for taking me out here.” He put the broken Wayfinder back in his pocket. He looked back out at the horizon, closing his eyes. The world was the same, he was just stuck there without them. Yami. The first him…
“I’ve never been alone, Haru.”
“Oh…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
“That I hurt you so badly.”
“Akio…”
“But I’m glad that I saved you. It was...worth it. I think...they’d both be happy with my decision.”
“I...I hope so, too.” Haru nodded.
Akio let out a soft sigh. “Let’s head home before we worry them any longer.”
“Yeah…”
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i've finally gotten to a point in my life where i'm not afraid to speak. where my shadow no longer haunts me. and i don't want to lose that freedom--not again.
was that alva bratt? oh no no, that was just juliette ferrars, a canon character from shatter me. they are nineteen years old, use she/her, and are not aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.
how long has your character been here: at least a year
what is your character's job: college student
where has your character been pulled from in their fandom: going right after the last book
has any magic affected your character: yes, no memories
and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know: ok going to go through a couple of things. some bullet points on things jullette has gone though. her touch is lethal, but she's gotten to a point where she can control it and can actually touch people without hurting them. she's also super strong and can punch the earth and cause an earthquake. badass short girl. but here is her wiki page.
she's had this kind of lethal touch for as long as she could remember. the people that raised her would mistreat her, her classmates wouldn't go near her because everyone knew that she was dangerous.
she only knew her touch could hurt someone, she never knew if she touched another person long enough, it could kill them.
not until she was 14 years old. there was a little boy. he had tripped and fell and his mother was ignoring him so juliette attempted to help him and didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.
she's then locked up until the age of 17. she's completely alone and only has a notebook that she stole to write her thoughts in.
she then gets a roommate and she realizes later, she knows him. i can't remember how long he's there for before some soldiers come one day and she thinks she's going to be killed. turns out adam was a soldier and she's introduced to warner, who wants to use her as a weapon.
she finds out that adam can touch her and through everything going on around her, it feels nice. especially since she hasn't felt another person's touch in such a long time. she and adam escape after a couple of weeks, but when it happens, she realizes that adam isn't the only one that can touch her. warner can too.
gonna ghost over what happens, but they end up with a bunch of people who also have powers. turns out, adam has powers and that's why he can touch her, but they're starting not work and her touch is starting to hurt him. he even ends up needing medical attention because of it.
they end up taking warner aka aaron now, hostage after juliette shoots his father in the legs. shit goes down at this moment okay. turns out aaron and adam are actually half brothers. yeah.
everyone finds out that aaron can touch her too. adam and juliette broke up before this but he's refusing to let go. even though her touch is hurting him now. juliette gets a lot closer to aaron and figures out why he is the way he is. they have moments, even make out before he leaves. but aaron has powers too. adam can disable others powers and aaron can take them and use them.
there ends up being this big fight and julliette is taken by aaron and adam's dad's soldiers and bombs the place all there people are at, killing hundreds before he shoots julliette in the chest.
she almost dies but there are these two healer's and though they can't touch her, they can touch aaron and he can use their power to save her and he did.
she's back in the compound when she wakes up and freaks out a little bit. but aaron helps a lot. when she decides that she wants to kill his father, he's ready for it. he hates his father a lot, but he can't kill the man. he explains a lot of what happened while juliette was there before and why he was so interested in her cause while she can't touch people, his mother has an issue where she can't be touched. she can't even move because of the pain it causes her. she's both the source of the power and victim.
i'll stop here because this is just where i stopped in the third book but please read these books. i need to scream.
#hw: intro#* juliette ferrars \ introduction.#shatter me spoilers#shatter me spoilers tw#spoilers#spoilers tw
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#10 Longing for the future while mourning the past in between coffees
Lately, I have been feeling much better.
I have adjusted my medication, which now actually regulates my pain instead of turning me into a living zombie, gone to therapy a couple of times, and made my bed in the morning.
Not to be misinterpreted. I don't have my shit together. I still can't wake up early even if the flat was on fire, and my eating schedules are merely a mirror distortion of a successful dinner meal plan I've made with my boyfriend.
But we move. We even move faster, now that I've learned how to make brown sugar oat-shaken expressos/lattes.
10:43, first coffee of the day, iced oat-shaken expresso with cinnamon
As I package up a suitcase full of books I haven't looked at in the past year to take back to Lisbon, I find myself looking back at my Bachelors's work and little notes and sketches. I don't think I'll miss it but I'm glad I can hold onto something to remember it by.
One of the things that hasn't gotten better are my measured feelings, or rather the lack of controlled measure. As someone who has always been very sensitive and felt a lot of big loud feelings, I don't understand how I've reached a point where I no longer have this life-ending feeling surrounding closing a chapter and starting another. I used to cry at the thought of not seeing my best friend for a week. And now I'm moving away from everyone and everything, and I feel like it's just a normal Thursday night.
I think I am mourning how much I used to feel rather all of the big changes that are about to happen in the next two months.
11:37, second coffee of the day, refill with more oat milk than coffee
There is this feeling of half excitement and fear of possibly starting my "London Years" (capital letters because it will hopefully be its own big, lengthy chapter) that I can't quite figure out where to store at the moment.
I can't store it in my mind because it takes the excitement out of it - too much logical thinking about the stresses of finding a way to make a living and a house in the midst of a living crisis. I can't store it in my heart because the moment I start romanticising something is the moment I dig my little pitty party grave for when my inner script of expectations isn't met (this is where my birthdays fly to be euthanised). My stomach is a no-go.
I give bits and pieces of this feeling to my boyfriend and my grandmas each week, in hopes they safe keep it for now.
I'm excited to find a home where I can let it run free and not have to pack it away. Just live in it and with it.
#journal#iced coffee#reflection#personal diary#coming of age#therapy#brown sugar#chronic pain#writing
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04:24 AM - Can't sleep again -
I've only had nightmares the past month and I'm so fucking done with everything. The slightest misunderstanding or anything that hurts me drives me into having nightmares. I remember every single one and i can't get them out of my head. I feel so fucking lost and alone. I really can't remember the last time I genuinely felt happy about something. I can't even form normal sentences without breaking my head at this point. I feel stupid just talking because I think there's only incoherent sentences coming out of my mouth. I wish I had someone to talk to who genuinely cares. My communication skills are...gone. i don't know why...some have noticed it, some are pulling away from me and some are gaslighting me why I'm not writing them back or just tell them anything at this point. I doubt anyone will get me...i don't even know myself at this point.
I've been going to the gym and i really enjoyed it but the last month has been hell for me. I've got no motivation and feel so powerless. My mom's health has gotten worse. I spent some time with her today but she was in a lot of pain. It's heart breaking seeing her like that. I'll go to the clinic with her tomorrow and hope for the best. Other then that I've realized how fucked the next couple of month will be. I've got one month to basically finish my Bachelor thesis. I've got 20 pages and I'll need 65 at the end. I need to learn for 4 more exams while writing my thesis. I don't know how to handle all that stress.
I'm searching for a new university for my master's degree... but I just can't find the time nor mental power to actually find one. I've only got 2 places that I'll apply to so far. At this point I'm not even sure that the path I took is the right one in life. Sure, I'll have a six figure job at the end but I doubt that I'll be happy. I need to find a new apartment too. I'm happy that a close friend has offered me his help instantly. I just can't ask people for help because I don't want to burden anyone with my problems. I want to go to Australia and do my master degree there but I don't have the money nor do I want to leave the people I care about here in germany. It's like when I'm gone I'll just lose the connection with them and i won't be able to reconnect it. I'm already losing the connection with some people I was hella close with and that is breaking my heart.
Not sure if I'll go to bed at this point and stay up for two-three days again. I just want to lean on a shoulder or chest and hear that everythings gonna be alright. I always wear my heart on my sleeve but i don't want to do that anymore. It just hurts.
I think I'll go outside and drive around. That's the only thing that makes me somewhat happy at this point because it's like she's speaking to me without any words.
I doubt anyone will read that this post from an anxious hopeless romantic idiot who can't think straight. To anyone else who's made it this far..thanks for listening to me. It really means something to me.
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I know I've brought it up a thousand times but I was watching season 4 and Nancy lying to Wayne is so painful. This man has found a dead body in his home, his nephew is missing and possibly committed a murder and he says he doesn't want to talk to reporters and Nancy Wheeler just comes in, lies, says her paper is small and doesn't have the staff to keep up with the big ones and she's just looking for something, anything about what happened last night. And then after Wayne says that she probably has it all figured out and she counters with "You've been talking to the post, yeah, Chuck Bailey, he doesn't know his ass from his elbow." AND THEN SHE FREAKING SAYS LET ME TELL YOUR SIDE OF THE STORY. And oh my god, it makes me so mad because she lied to this man who again just found a dead body and his nephew is missing and said that I'll tell your side of the story when it comes across that she'll never write it, especially later in the season and Nancy just uses him for information. Does she want to sell it to a bigger paper? Does she intend on publishing it in the school paper? Does she intend on writing it at all? It doesn't matter because she freaking lied to get her information, showing a lack of integrity. If she just lied once to see Victor Creel or they show her having some doubts, I would be fine. My problem isn't with Nancy doing bad things, it's about the narrative twists them into good things or ignores the bad things. Like and Nancy isn't the only character who gets the whole narrative is on their side thing, but she's never been on the opposite end. The show never shows her as wrong. Like with Robin in the library and at Pennhurst is the closest we get to Nancy realizing that she's wrong but she doesn't learn from it. She doesn't see Robin as having her own strengths, she looks annoyed when Robin makes the point that a mystical journal could have the answers they are looking for. And that's fine, but she doesn't value Robin's perspective at Pennhurst, she doesn't learn, I guarantee if they hadn't gotten in, Nancy would have blamed it on Robin's interuption, despite the fact that Nancy's approach wasn't working anyways. Anyways feel free to ignore this, this is just me venting and I have not verified a lot of the information in here except for the Nancy Wayne conversation.
lol this was a few days ago - sorry i haven’t been keeping up. anyway YES seeing nancy and wayne interact is painful! and the narrative doesn’t even fully set it in the painful manner it is- i believe it only has something sinister going on because of what is happening with fred in the background. Wayne seriously has gone through so much and the one person who he thinks is on his side: uses an agenda to get info out of him. someone who also doesn’t fully end up believing him anyway. Wayne doesn’t want to talk to anyone but then gets comforted by nancy’s words in a way with saying that she’ll post his side of the story which in grief and pain: you most likely would turn to that because you want someone to hear your side.
okay but nancy saying that fr shows me that she hasn’t learned a thing from season 3! with the elbow comment like now she’s trashing someone else professionally all to get Wayne to side with her. she’s using her personal bias of someone to get Wayne to talk about something that is traumatic to him. yeah her lying does show a lack of integrity ! it’s also like she specifically used someone’s pain to get some info (and while it did help her out in figuring this shit out- it’s like she very much used this tragedy to her advantage- hell she even lies about why she’s in the trailer park which she lies about checking up on max. which is something that she NEVER did!) same like it’s no the fact that nancy is lying - it’s more of how the narrative goes about it! they just never address it being a negative trait - it’s seen as some heroic act. it’s not! and it would be so wonderful to make it seem as some growth with her but it’s never used in that way.
yeah like nancy isn’t the only one that gets this treatment from the narrative but it’s so present with nancy! i totally agree with that about how nancy would probs blame robin for her blurt out moment if it didn’t work not realizing that her plan was bound to fail anyway like sorry but their plan was so half baked and nothing solid was coming out of that. honestly robin is the true mvp of that pennhurst trip!
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