#though I guess it's good to be reminded sometimes (cause it justifies that I had my gallbladder removed. yeah it fucking sucks now but damn

[running-in-the-dark]

eww I'm sorting through photos from my old phone (not the last one, the one before that. five years later....) and there's a bunch from all my hospital stays and it's making me feel really bad 🙃

#really not good times #I was in soooo much pain #all the time #I don't want to remember that #though I guess it's good to be reminded sometimes (cause it justifies that I had my gallbladder removed. yeah it fucking sucks now but damn #it was SO MUCH worse before...) #anyway I'm not gonna delete them I think 🙃 but I won't look at them now. or maybe ever again. but I'll still keep them #personal #I honestly don't even know which phone these are all from. I must have reset it at some point and saved them before that because it's very #random/weird times lol

[goddessofroyalty]

I love your Zaun family au... And It just hit me while reading one of the scenes that the girls get to grow with Viktor as their older brother!

That is so cool! I'd LOVE to read some interaction between them, like when they first arrived in the family or just bonding time or him being a bit of a role model for Powder since they have similar interests!!

Brief thing of the three talking about Viktor leaving below (which I guess more just shows the dynamic they get). There's a longer thing of him and Powder/Jinx coming tomorrow it's just had a bit of word count creep.

You can read about the girls joining the family (although Silco’s POV) here

As much as I know a big draw of this AU to me is having Silco and Vander be Viktor's parents I feel like it's having Viktor be the girls big brother that really solidified my want to include him. Between the fun banter and comradery you can get between him and Vi (especially considering their respective Piltite partners) and Powder getting to grow up in the shadow of a genius big brother (and the advantages and disadvantages of that) I just feel like there's a lot of potential to play with there.

---------------

“You’re really moving up there?”

Viktor glances up from his packing to his sisters now standing in his doorway. Vi’s expression unreadable as she watches him pack, Powder clinging at her hip like she tends to when not trailing behind Silco.

“I am. The Dean has personally organized a place for me at the Academy. It would be rude not to accept.” Viktor will admit he would take the place even if there was no social reasoning for it. The opportunity to access Piltover’s knowledge and resources is too good to turn down. To be able to build the things he currently can only dream of and hopefully better the lives of everyone in Zaun through it.

“They’re cruel though,” Vi says as Viktor returns to his packing.

Viktor knows his sisters understand better than most just how cruel Piltover can be. They are only his sisters because of it. Their distrust more than justified.

“I know. But I do not believe they are all like that.” Dean Heimerdinger certainly hadn’t seemed cruel from Viktor’s correspondence with him. Perhaps blind to just how wide the gap between the two city-halves had become but not consciously cruel. “Even if they are I am tougher than I look.”

“I didn’t mean-“ Vi starts. She is so full of protective bravado that Viktor sometimes needs to remind her that while his legs are not as strong as hers are he is he much older than her and does not need her to come to his defense.

“I know,” Viktor cuts in to prevent his sister’s self-chastisement. “I am just saying – I know what I am doing and can handle whatever they throw at me.”

“He’ll have Silco with him too,” Powder adds. “He won’t let anyone be mean to Viktor.”

“Exactly.” Viktor won’t tell them that he plans on keeping his relation to the Zaun Representative quite. He wants his achievements to be on his own merits and not just because of whose child he is. “And I will visit on the weekends.”

“Every weekend?” Vi demands.

“Most weekends.” Viktor may want a social life separate to his family’s associates.

Vi doesn’t seem happy about it but she doesn’t push it.

“If I hear that anyone is being mean to you,” she says instead.

“You will come hurt them I know.” It is why Viktor will not tell his family if anyone is mean to him. Their peace is too fresh and it would be too easy for them to decide to take up arms against Piltover again.

He is doing this to help Zaun while not having to worry about losing his family to violence. He will not have it end in being the cause for more violence.

“Good.”

“Where will you be staying up there Viktor?” Powder asks.

“The dorm.”

“They better give you nice roommates,” Vi says.

“Ah, actually they are private rooms.” In some ways Viktor is looking forward to the quiet and privacy. Nobody able to go through his room and stuff just because they were bored or curious.

“Will you be lonely?” Powder asks and Viktor can only shrug because he might be. He has never known a life without living practically on top of his family. “We’ll have to visit you.”

“Powder you know we’re not meant to go Topside,” Vi says, because despite Silco being up there nearly half of his time their parents still worried about possible retribution for the Rebellion targeting their kids. Viktor knows that is their biggest concern about him studying up there as well.

“But if it’s just to visit Viktor is should be fine,” Powder argues.

“We’ll talk to Vander about it,” Vi says. And Viktor will talk to Silco after he’s settled in because it would be good for his younger siblings to visit Piltover.

If they really are going to bridge the gap between Zaun and Piltover they need to have people travelling between the two halves more. And his parents have always said the best way to lead is through example.

#Zaun Family #Viktor Arcane #Jinx Arcane #Violet Arcane #Arcane #Ramblings of the goddess #Q and A with the Goddess

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

Sincerely, Your Fellow Choi

@yyxgin Happy birthday, my beloved! I know this is way too late to be justifiable, and I have no real excuse. Just life and oversights, but never once do I want you to think I forgot about celebrating your birthday <3 It was literally on the list of things I most wanted to do this year—celebrate an amazing friend like you. So I hope you enjoy!

.

.

.

April 16th, Saturday 11:55 PM

For the past couple of weeks, I've been getting an email every Sunday at 12AM exactly, like it's scheduled.

Taehyun kept telling me not to open them 'cause they could be viruses, but I'm dumb (as he likes to playfully remind me), so I didn't listen to him.

I opened one a few weeks ago, which led to opening all the ones I'd received up to that point. And now I'm sitting here, anxiously scrawling down whatever I can while waiting for the next one to show up. My leg is shaking like crazy.

They weren't spam like I originally thought. They're very well thought-out and written with love. Each email is an instruction manual of how to fall in love with (Y/F/N).

I wouldn't say we're friends, but we know each other from high school (which is something I've tried to leave far, far behind me), and we talk sometimes.

We have one or two overlapping classes, but we're not lunch buddies by any means necessary. She's nice enough. I remember her making chocolates for me once for a school-wide Secret Santa thing we did.

They were pretty good. Nothing to write home about, though.

But for some reason, someone out there who signs off all their emails with the phrase "sincerely, your fellow Choi", seems to want me to think that she's got a massive crush on me and we're a match made in heaven.

At first, I thought it was silly—maybe a prank from one of her friends or something. But y'know how you just get vibes sometimes? It just feels too absurd not to be true.

I'm not saying I've fallen for her just because of a few emails, but I am saying I've learned a lot about her through these email, and I can't really tell if that's creepy or not.

How is it that I've never once noticed her before reading these emails? She's been walking in and out of my life for well over 6 years, yet I've never given her a second thought.

She was always just there, doing her own thing. She had her friends, and I had mine—if you could really call them that. None of them cared enough to keep in touch with me after high school.

I don't know why this random Choi is trying to get me interested in this girl from a past that I'm trying to forget, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't working.

Oh! Hold up.

The new email just came. Gotta go—I'll try to write more tomorrow.

April 18th, Monday 10:31 PM

Okay, so obviously, I forgot to write more yesterday. My bad. But no one's ever gonna see this anyway, so it's okay.

This works out though, 'cause I did something kinda crazy today. I decided to join the art club, 'cause (Y/N)'s a part of it. Taehyun thinks I'm insane, and Kai kindly reminded me that I can barely draw a stick figure, but I think this will be good for me in the long-run.

I can get closer to her in my own time, and I can see what she's actually like—not just what the emails want me to believe.

And maybe I can finally face high school again in a new light. Maybe now that I'm an adult, I won't be so scared.

April 19th, Tuesday 6:22 PM

Art is way harder than expected. I thought I'd pick it up pretty fast, but nah. I was wrong. This looks like chicken scratch.

On the upside, I talked to (Y/N) today. She could tell I was struggling, so she scooched over and whispered some shading tips while the team leader went over the assignment. She even offered to give me some drawing lessons on the weekends.

She didn't ask why I joined an art club, even though I'm a terrible artist.

It was nice. She was nice.

And she wasn't like how I remembered. I remembered someone more rambunctious and self-assured, and I guess that's why she always intimidated me.

Not to say she's not self-assured now, just more quiet about it. I can't tell if she's grown up, or if she's changed.

I also can't figure out why I haven't done either of those things yet.

April 23th, Saturday 3:00 PM

I had my first drawing lesson with (Y/N) today. She's such a good artist—it's kind of scary.

The emails keep talking about this hidden crush she's got on me, but I don't know if I fully believe it. I don't think I make her nervous at all.

She just smiles and talks and hums while she sketches. I don't seem to have an affect on her. She's just nice to me, like she is to everyone else.

And for some reason, that upsets me. The emails have been so accurate about everything else—her favorite colors, her hobbies, her favorite song, her allergies—yet it feels like they got her feelings for me all wrong.

I don't know why I'm upset about this. I've already told myself I'm not catching feelings, just seeing for myself what all the fuss is about. But still... I'm a little disappointed.

I guess I just expected more.

May 24th, Tuesday 8:01 PM

Wow, I kinda forgot about this. It's been a while since my last entry, but don't worry—it's for a good reason. (Y/N) and I have actually been hanging out a lot these days, and it's been fun.

Most of the time, it's for club things or art lessons, but sometimes we walk to class together or grab some coffee. And remember how I said we weren't lunch buddies? Well, we are now.

And we get along pretty well! She's funny. And I'm starting to think the crush thing might be more accurate than I thought.

I don't have any solid proof, but sometimes I swear I can feel her staring at me when she thinks I'm not paying attention. And she's always respectful of my personal bubble, yet tries to sit as close to me as possible without touching.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, or maybe it's my man brain trying to convince me, "oh yeah, dude. She's for sure into you", but either way, I'm kinda hoping I'm right.

In these few weeks I've spent truly noticing her and having her in the forefront of my life instead of on the sidelines, I've realized that I wouldn't hate it if she had a crush on me.

In fact, I'd be honored. She's cool.

May 30th, Monday 7:45 AM

This is gonna be a short entry 'cause I'm already late for class, but I just had to jot this down real quick in case I forget.

I think I figured out who the 'fellow Choi' is. The emails reminded me that (Y/N)'s close to that jock guy, Choi Yeonjun. They've been friends and neighbors since they were little, and he went to the same high school as us, just a year ahead.

I vaguely remember him as one of the hooligans she used to skateboard around with, but the memory's fuzzy.

I've seen them hanging out before, but I didn't realize they were that tight. If there's anyone who would know that much about her, it'd be him. I'm gonna confront him tomorrow, so we'll see what happens.

May 31st, Tuesday 5:53 PM

Yeah, so that whole confronting thing? It didn't go so well. I now have confirmation that he's not the fellow Choi, but I also have a bloody nose, so I don't know if I've accomplished anything.

It was a real 'one step forward, two steps back' kind of situation. From what I've seen of him around campus, he seems like a very chill, friendly guy, and you can tell he cares for (Y/N) like a brother.

So you can imagine my surprise when I said 'hi' and his first reaction was to grab me by the collar, shove me against a brick wall, and sock me in the nose.

What I hate most was the eyes it attracted. I just know there's gonna be rumors about us fighting for (Y/N)'s hand or some crap.

All in all, something tells me he doesn't like me. He told me to stay away from (Y/N) if I didn't have the 'right intentions'.

His exact words were, "The Chois in her life have already given her enough shit, and if you add on to that, I swear to God, I'll break so much more than your nose."

It was definitely a change from the guy I'd seen ruffling (Y/N)'s hair and giving her noogies while complimenting her latest artwork and calling her a nerd.

I'm scared and angry, for sure, but also just confused. I feel like there's more to this story that I'm not getting or hasn't been revealed to me yet. I feel left behind.

And also, I wish he'd been more clear as he threatened me. What are my intentions supposed to be?

'Cause I think I'm falling for her. And if that's not Choi Yeonjun approved, how am I just supposed to just stop these feelings from growing?

Would it even be possible at this point?

June 2nd, Thursday 9:10 PM

I emailed back the fellow Choi the other day. I wanted to see if they knew what I did to hurt (Y/N) and Yeonjun in the past.

They never answered.

June 13th, Monday 11:11 AM

(Y/N) made Yeonjun apologize to me. Not gonna lie, it was a little gratifying to see that tough guy all humbled and grumbly while she glared up at him and demanded an apology.

All-in-all, even though it was forced, he seemed pretty genuine. He even asked how my nose was doing. I told him it wasn't broken, and I think (for the most part) there are no lingering hard feelings between us.

Except for the ones he's hiding from me—the ones that I assume have been there for a long time. And he must've said something to (Y/N), 'cause she's been weird too. Not mean or cold, just distant. Lost in her thoughts, even when we're together.

I wonder if he brought up some memories from the past that she'd forgotten or repressed. I kind of resent him for that a little, 'cause things were going well between us, and now I don't know what to do with my feelings.

They're getting too strong to keep inside, but would it be insensitive to confess now? I don't even know anymore. I'm so confused.

More than anything, I just wanna know what I did. I must've been either really self-absorbed or incredibly insecure in high school, because I'm coming to realize that I never really noticed anyone.

It was always just me in my little bubble, and even with my friends, I never let them get too close. As I'm writing this, I also kinda realize that I'm the only person stopping myself from making genuine connections with others.

And that pretty much decides it for me. I'm gonna confess to her this weekend—just you watch.

June 19th, Sunday 10:30 PM

Today might be one of my favorite days ever. I spent the whole day with (Y/N), and for the first time in a while, it didn't feel awkward.

I would kind of consider this our first date. We went out for breakfast, then we talked for hours and realized, "Oh, we should probably get lunch." And after lunch, we didn't wanna say goodbye, so we decided to go for a walk. "Work off the calories," she said.

By that time, we were hungry again, so she invited me to her dorm for an improvised snack dinner. It certainly wasn't gourmet, but it was tasty, and it was fun to make it together.

She looked so pretty. She didn't even do anything special—she just looked nice. So I told her. Then one thing led to another, and I was rambling and going on and on, and then I finally got it out.

Those three words I'd been trying to spit out all day. "I like you."

And guess what? She likes me too. She actually, genuinely likes me. And before I left, you know that she did? She gave me a kiss on the hand.

Not on the cheek, not on the lips, but on my hand. I've never gotten butterflies like that before. It's so weird to think that now... I have a girlfriend. It's wild.

It was really cool seeing her place, too. I remembered her skateboarding back in high school (hard to forget with the emails proudly remind me every five seconds), but she actually has medals and stuff from competitions she entered in with her old team.

Yeonjun was on that team too, apparently. She had a framed picture of them proudly showing off their second place trophy with their arms slung over each other's shoulders.

Cute picture. A little small for the frame, though. Maybe I should get her a new one.

July 10th, Sunday 12:15 AM

I think I just got the last email. It felt ominous, like a permanent goodbye. "I can't have her back anymore, so I'm leaving it up to you. If you haven't fallen for her at this point, please at least just be her friend. I'm sure Yeonjun's all she's got. Be good to her."

And as always, signed off with that 'sincerely, your fellow Choi'. I'm not sure why, but when I read it this time, I got goosebumps all over my body.

It was like I'd been talking to a ghost. They were there, and then they were gone—like a cool breeze or a puff of smoke.

It feels empty.

September 3rd, Saturday 9:45 PM

(Y/N) got mad at me for the first time today. We were doing some studying at her place, and I was admiring the pictures and medals on her wall while she was in the bathroom.

But I'm a klutz, so of course, I ended up knocking something over. It was that framed picture of her and Yeonjun. The glass shattered and the back fell out, and I swear I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

All I could think was 'shit, shit, I just broke the important thing', and like a little kid, my first thought was to get rid of the evidence.

Now, realistically, there was nothing I could do about the glass in such a short time, but I thought if I could just pop the panel back on and make sure the framing wasn't damaged...

But that's when I noticed the picture, slightly peeking out from the broken frame. It was too small because it had been folded.

I wasn't trying to pry. I wasn't trying to look at it.

But it was there, unfolded right in front of me. And I could see that in the previously folded up corner, (Y/N) had her arm wrapped another guy. A guy with longish black hair, his nose scrunched up by a big, toothy grin, and a skateboard pinned under his arm.

The three of them looked so happy together. A perfect little trio. And when I looked at the guy, I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity.

When (Y/N) finally came out, she blew up at me. I couldn't tell if it was because of the fact that I broke her frame, or because I saw the other half of that picture.

Now, (Y/N)'s not a petty person, so if I had to guess... I'd say it was the latter. I wanna know who he is. I wanna know why he feels so familiar. And I wanna know why he hurts her so much.

So much so that she would fold him out of a picture, but not find it within herself too throw it away.

But I'm dumb, so I didn't say any of those things. We just argued. I stormed out.

I regret it.

September 7th, Wednesday 4:32 PM

We've made up. That's what we say, anyway. But it's awkward, with just a hint of tension.

I've tried talking it out with her, asking about that guy, but she says she doesn't want to talk about it.

I'm not experienced enough for this. I don't know what's right. I don't know when to push and when to let it lie.

I'm scared to mess this up.

Soobin laid dead asleep in his room, disturbed by an incessant tap-tap-tap.

With a groan, he rolled over in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp and instinctively checking the time on his phone. Two in the morning. He groaned again as the tapping only became more insistent.

In his bleary daze, he managed to glance at the window, doing a double-take as he saw a shadowy figure outside of it. His eyes widened, pulling the sheets up and over his nose as slowly as possible. The tapping stopped, and he could’ve sworn he saw the figure sigh.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a notification.

“It’s me, coward,” the notification read.

With a start, he jumped up, swinging his window open with expert speed, successfully shocking the person on the other side of the glass. “(Y/N)!” he gasped, grabbing her wrists and pulling her back towards him as she lost her balance.

He reared backward, pulling her into the room and landing them both on the bed with a thump, Soobin splayed flat on his back and (Y/N) nestled somewhat comfortably into his shoulder. “What were you doing on the roof, you idiot?” he asked, hands instinctively going to rub up and down her back.

“I didn’t wanna wake your roommates...” she said sheepishly. “They probably heard me scream, though.”

Soobin shook his head, biting back the chuckle that rose in his throat. “Nah, don’t worry too much,” he said. “They sleep like rocks.” He took a moment to bask in the silence between them. This was the most carefree they’d been together in a while. “So what brings you here this cold evening?”

She propped herself up a little, examining his face with a hint of something in her eyes. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but maybe guilt? She cupped his cheek. 

“Have I ever told you why I like you?” she asked softly. Soobin only shook his head. “It’s ‘cause you care so much more than you think you do. You’re so humble, and you always underestimate yourself, but you’re the coolest, most kindest guy out there.” He felt butterflies whirl up in his stomach like the first time she kissed his hand. “I just needed to tell you that.”

Soobin could feel himself tearing up, but he willed himself to suck it in. “Well... Thank you,” he said. He wanted to say anything else. He wanted to list all the reasons he liked her and how he’d started finding peace and self-acceptance through her, but no words came out—like a blubbering fish out of water.

“Can I introduce you to someone?” (Y/N) asked, seemingly to instinctively know that he wouldn’t be able to get anything out.

Soobin blinked in confusion. “What, like... right now?” he asked.

She nodded. “If we don’t do this now, I’m worried I’ll get too scared again.”

Now, he could give a million viable excuses on why he couldn’t go. He’s tired, he has early morning classes, it’s nearly freezing—but none of that mattered. He wanted to do whatever she wanted to do.

It’d easily been an hour, and they were only getting further from the familiar territory of their campus grounds. Soobin could feel himself dozing off again, but he urged himself not to. Even if he felt like shit in the morning, he was gonna stay awake for this.

“Where are we goin’?” he asked from the passenger seat of (Y/N)’s dumpy old car that stubbornly refused not to die, like a spiteful great-aunt.

“We’re almost there,” she said cryptically, gripping the steering wheel ever so slightly tighter. “Just give it a sec. It’s on the left.”

Soobin blinked hard and mussed up his hair, trying to make himself more presentable. He was still in his pajamas, so the least he could do would be to look awake. He glance at all the signs as they passed by buildings, each one of them not likely to be their stop.

When she finally slowed down and flicked on her blinker, Soobin’s heart dropped, the words ‘columbarium’ staring him in the face like the barrel of a gun. “(Y/N)—” he started.

She shook her head. “Don’t say anything yet,” she instructed gently. “Just wait till we get inside.” She took a pause while she put the car in park. “And hold my hand. I haven’t been here in a while.”

With her hand tightly grasped in his and the car locked behind them, they made their way into the building. Already, it was a sad, humbling atmosphere—seeing all the urns, photos, bouquets, and letters from family pinned up on the wall. There was so much love and sorrow, all contained in one place.

Finally, (Y/N) stopped in front of one specific niche. ”Meet Beomgyu,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “One of my best friends, and your fellow Choi.” In the picture frame behind the cage of glass stood a very familiar boy with longish black hair, a toothy grin, and a crinkled nose.

Soobin looked at her with wide eyes. “How did you—?”

“You left your diary at my place,” she said. “I’m sorry I was nosy, but I couldn’t help but read it. And by doing that, I realized how much I’ve been making you suffer on your own, and I’m so sorry.” She gripped his hand tighter, making eye contact with him. “Will you forgive me?”

His heart ached. “There’s nothing to forgive, honestly...” he said, voice barely above a whisper. It felt rude to speak any louder in a place full of the deceased.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, y’know,” she said. “It’s not a fair relationship if we’re always walking on eggshells around each other. So I’ll share some of my scars with you tonight, and you can share yours when you’re ready. I might not get all your questions answered, but I'll start.”

He felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t help but feel grateful to Choi Beomgyu for leading him to such a great girl.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I promise I'll do the same for you later.” He looked back at Beomgyu’s picture. The longer he looked at it, the more bits and pieces of memories from high school came flooding back in.

(Y/N), Yeonjun, and Beomgyu. The kids who always rode into school on their skateboards, zooming past everyone on the way through the front gates while laughing and shouting jokes at each other. Soobin was pretty separate from their friend group, but out of all of them, he was most familiar with Beomgyu.

He was the class clown. Everyone loved him, and he loved making everyone laugh—even at his own expense. Yeonjun was always the one to back him up with a smile on his face, even when he called him a dumbass. And (Y/N) was always the one following quietly behind them, cleaning up thier messes.

But she never seemed to mind. She didn’t even care that as they walked down the halls, people would call out “Hey, Beomgyu!” or “Hey, Yeonjun!”, but no one ever called out for her.

“Tell me about him,” Soobin said.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How’d you become friends?”

She cracked a little smile, though he could still see the pain lacing it from the scabbed over wound on her heart that had yet to fully heal. “Yeonjun and Beomgyu were nextdoor neighbors, I lived across the street,” she said. “Their mom’s were best friends, and I moved to the neighborhood with my folks later on. Y’know how moms always want you be comfortable and have friends you can count on?”

Soobin chuckled. “For sure,” he said. “Even if I got a terrible report card, my mom’s first instinct was still to scold me on how I didn’t put in enough effort to make friends.”

“My mom was the same,” she said. “So about a week after we moved in, she said, ‘C’mon! Let’s go say hi to the neighbors’ sons!’ I was shy and I didn’t wanna go, but God, am I glad I did. They were both at Beomgyu's place, and as soon as I got through the front door, they dragged me upstairs to play Mario Kart and then outside to shoot each other with nerf guns.”

Her smile grew, more genuine this time. “I didn’t have time to be nervous, not with their hyper-active asses. From that point on, we basically grew up together. They were like my big brothers. Whatever they did, I wanted to do it too. That’s why I started skating, y’know.”

“Now, Beomgyu... I don’t even know how to describe him. He was like a whirlwind, y’know? He was crazy, confident, a little overzealous at times, but sweet. He always remembered the little things about you, and even though his loudness could be a little annoying at first, once he went quiet with you, you felt like something was missing."

She sighed through her nose. "I miss his voice," she said rawly, as if she hadn't allowed herself to admit that for the past couple of years.

“The three of us went through life, did everything together, talked about how we were gonna get matching tattoos once we graduated, and then one day, we were all skating—practicing for a competition, actually—and Beomgyu fell.” Her voice grew quieter at the end. 

“Beomgyu never fell. He said he felt dizzy and his head hurt. We thought he must’ve hit it on the way down, so we rushed him off the the hospital—a bunch of scared teenagers. And that’s where they discovered it. A weird hybrid type of acute myeloid leukemia.”

Soobin squeezed her hand tighter. She appreciated it. “Most people live at least 5 years after being diagnosed, but Beomgyu didn’t have that time. It was too late and too developed. He had a little under a year.”

Soobin’s heart ached. No wonder it was  painful memory. She lost her best friend when she was just a kid. “That must’ve been awful for you,” he whispered, stepping a little closer to her, just to let her feel his warmth.

“It was,” she agreed softly. “What’s worse though is that I spent those last 6 months lying straight to his face.”

 Soobin gave her a questioning look.

“Yeonjun cornered me one day. Told me that Beomgyu had been in love with me for a few years, but I never even noticed,” she said. In Soobin’s head, that made sense. And it explained the affection behind the emails’ tone. “And he never confessed ‘cause he didn’t wanna mess up our friendship, and then he thought he’d lost his shot, ‘cause I started crushing on you.”

“But Yeonjun looked me straight in the eyes as we stood by a vending machine in the hospital at almost 11:30 one night and said, ‘Beomgyu’s gonna confess to you tonight. Please accept him’.” 

She let out a dry laugh at the memory. “I didn’t know what to say. It’s not that I was disgusted by the thought of being with him or that I was particularly hung up on you—I just thought you were cute at that point—but I just didn’t feel... anything. No sparks. And that’s not how love’s supposed to be.”

“So I though I’d turn him down gently,” she continued. “Knowing Beomgyu, I thought he’d be happy to just get it off his chest, and then we could spend his last few months as we always had. The unbeatable trio.”

She leaned her head on Soobin’s shoulder, feeling drained and tired. “But when I got into his room, he’d prepared flowers, and balloons, and a handwritten letter, and a big romantic speech, and I just... 

She nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I didn’t have the heart. He’d never had a girlfriend before, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was all my fault. Maybe he was waiting for me and I just never got to that point. So I accepted him. I’ve never seen him look so relieved. He almost cried.”

“So I went six months... Pretending to be in love with him. But I think he knew. I think he knew my heart wasn’t in it, and that’s what made it even worse. He would apologize all the time with that sad smile on his face, and it just made me feel even worse.”

“So I tried harder to be a good girlfriend, made myself feel even worse, argued with Yeonjun all the time ‘cause I felt like he was only thinking about Beomgyu, and overall, I just screwed everything up. He had less than a year left with us and I wasted it lying to him. I didn’t even do it well. It all felt pointless.”

“Especially when I knew for sure he knew. He told me he was gonna repay me someday for helping him live out his short dream, even though it was hard for me. I guess he held up his end.” 

She looked up, meeting eyes with Soobin, his dark orbs damp with sympathy. “He gave me you, the crazy bastard. Guess he knew five years would probably be enough for me not to totally hate myself anymore,” she chuckled. “That way, I could love properly again.”

She looked back at the niche, staring intently at Beomgyu’s portrait, as well as the smaller pictures laid out around it. Pretty much all of them had herself and Yeonjun inside of them, right next to Beomgyu and his dopey grin.

“He never let me kiss him,” she said. “I tried, but he never let me. He always joked and said ‘cooties’, but I know it’s ‘cause he didn’t want me to waste my first kiss on a lie. He was good like that.”

Without him realizing it, Soobin had started crying. Not a harsh sob or a broken whimper, just thick tears pouring out of his stinging, red eyes. He couldn’t tell if he was saddened by the story or thankful for the gesture.

Wordlessly, he faced the niche, giving a deep bow. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for giving me your best friend. I can tell how much you love her.”

In that moment, the air changed. It felt warmer.

Maybe somewhere out there, in a different timeline or dimension, Beomgyu was flashing his dopey smile, happy that another one of his hair-brained schemes worked out. 

#kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #kpopidol #txt #tomorrow x together #soobin #choi soobin #beomgyu #choi beomgyu

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #???? #y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

[aetherarf]

So as my first request, if possible and you feel comfortable, I would like to ask for something with diluc, kaeya ​​and childe with a fem reader who had an abusive father. I don't care how he was abusive, you can choose which one favors you best. And with that, I would like to know how the characters would react by discovering this or how they would deal with the traumas and the reader's fear. Anyways, whatever you think is best 💓

Hello! Also I think I'll go with somewhat different one's each time... ( Diluc gets the short end of the stick again ). Also... I will admit, unless I tackle gender-based topics, I write men and women Readers the same...? You can easily read it as GN but I'll probably just default to GN terms since men and women both suffer from abuse and Gender is a complicated thing that doesn't fit into these writings. [Sorry if I disappoint!]

Edit: forgot to put a summary oopsie

[[ WARNING: ANGST, ABUSE MENTION, RAPE MENTION ]]

[[ Summary: You loved him, you loved him with your whole heart... but no matter your love, you had to eventually tell him what broke you, and caused you to act this way

Total Word Count: 1'880

Childe Word Count: 544

Diluc Word Count: 734

Kaeya Word Count: 602 ]]

Childe

Childe considered himself a pretty affectionate guy--He liked innocent wrestling, tickle-fights, and if he had his way, he'd have his hand on you every second of the day, on your hip, around your shoulders, holding your hand, or even just having your pinkies intertwined was enough.

However, you flinched. Every time he ever tried to make a motion towards you, you flinched, and i you didn't flinch, your eyes widened in shock.

You would apologize, and he tried to dismiss it, It's okay, you didn't do anything. I'm sorry for scaring you.

And he left it at that. But, you were sitting next to him, and he yawned, trying to casually wrap an arm around you, but as soon as he touched your shoulders, you yelped, flinching and staring at his offending arm in shock... and then, slowly, you took deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you said, exhausted, "I didn't mean to jump."

Childe put his hand on his lap... and he frowned.

"You didn't do anything wrong... but... can I ask... why you flinch from me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side a little, "Normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but... I guess after seeing it so much, I wonder if I've been hurting you on accident, or... if you just don't trust me. I don't like... feeling bad all the time."

You shook your head, grabbing his hand--you were always better when you initiated it, rather than him, "You-Of course not. You've never hurt me, you're always good... it's just..."

Childe looked at you, expectantly, "Just...?"

"... I-I got hit a lot, in the past. I... don't think I've gotten over it. But-you didn't do anything, it was just... him."

Childe's face... darkened. His eyes--they seemed almost empty as he stared for a moment, his hand slowly shifting to grab yours, firm but gentle.

"Who hit you...?" He asked, completely serious... dark.

"It-Childe, you're scaring me."

He blinked once-twice, and that horrific expression disappeared, back to his sweet, charming, slightly-dumb self.

"I'm sorry, snowbird. But-Who hurt you? What happened?"

You hesitated... you'd have to tell him eventually, and there would never be a more perfect time than this.

"My-my father. He... He was a very angry individual. Any slight irritation, and..."

Childe, slowly, lifted your hand to his mouth to press a gentle kiss upon the back.

"You don't have to keep talking if it's too hard," he said, with a smile, "I get it... But-It must be hard to live like that, right?"

You nodded, "It's... awful," you admitted, "I hate it. I don't like feeling scared of you... Even if... No, wait..."

"I get it," he reassured, even if he didn't hide his pained expression well. "I'm a Harbinger... I can get you the best consoling and therapy that money can buy... I can't help you, i mean, talking me me won't help that much, but... Would you do that for me? I can set it all up, I promise... I just need you to go."

You stared.

"Will you go with me, the first time?"

He hesitated.

"Well, I probably won't talk much, since I want it to be about you, but... I'll go. I'll make sure no one as much as lays a hand on you ever again."

Diluc

You and Diluc got along well. You both enjoyed cuddling, but sometimes you slept back-to-back, not from any sort of lack of intimacy, but you just didn't want to cuddle.

You liked to cook together, Diluc oftentimes taking the lead. When he was alone, in the safety of your home, he was quite soft spoken, never raising his voice, and he was gentle whenever he touched you--He truly was a gentleman to his core.

But as you both lie in bed, Diluc reading a book as he furiously squinted at it, you reminded of his worsening vision, you sighed softly.

"Diluc," you said, and he lifted his head, surprised, before he looked down at you. He didn't say anything, just waiting for you to speak.

"... Are you disappointed? With me? With us?" You asked, months and months of fear finally coming out--you couldn't even be upset, or sob, or fuss, you just felt tired.

"What?" He asked, staring at you for a moment. "No. I'm happy. Are you... Disappointed?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper, barely able to hold in his fear.

You pushed yourself up, "No, no, I just... You know what people do when they're together."

Diluc stared at you blankly, waiting a response. After a few second too long, "Oh," he said, "... Do you think I don't love you?" He asked,

"No, no, I meant-sex. I just... We've never done it. Are you... Disappointed?" You asked. He shook his head,

"No. I have you, I don't need sex."

You were quiet for a moment.

"You don't want to... Have sex with me?" You asked--you didn't know whether to be pleased, to know he loved you so dearly that he didn't care for that, or to be insulted.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't want to have sex with anyone or anything, really. If you wanted to, I could... Come to terms with the idea. It's not you, I just... Sex doesn't... Appeal."

You sighed... Were you relieved? You still felt an agonizing pain in your chest. "I get it--and... I guess not, I'm happy with us." You said, smiling as you looked over his face... He, however wasn't smiling.

"You're lying," he said, stating it so plainly that it sounded like a fact, "You brought this up because it was upsetting you."

While lying, you put your arm over your eyes... focusing on breathing, as to not sound choked up--strained.

"I just... I don't know. I was-I was scared you'd ask."

He set everything off to the side, and instead laid down beside you, gathering you up in his arms as he held you close--his hand gently running up and down your back.

"Are you afraid of sex?" He asked... "... If it makes you feel better, I am too."

You looked up at him, staring for a moment.

"I... I was raped," you said, without realizing, "By... my father. He-He was... drunk. It happened... more than once. I don't think he ever remembered, he was-he was so good to me when he was sober, but..."

You hid into his chest, hiding from the world.

"I'm scared," you whined, softly, "I'm tired of waiting for it to happen... with you."

Diluc pressed a kiss atop your head, "... I would never do that, and I don't drink." There was a long moment of silence, "... You have told me about your pain, and... I believe it's only right I tell you of mine. I... Have a similar story," his voice was shaking, as he was struggling to even think... or to talk.

"It was not by my father, he was a good man... But-I... had a friend. Someone I... once cared for. I was drugged, and..."

He swallowed thickly.

"I was aware. I could feel everything, but I could not control my body. I... I understand why you are afraid. I think, I'm afraid too."

You held him close.

"I don't want us to be afraid anymore."

You could only nod at that, closing your eyes as he held you--But, somehow, despite all this fear, you felt so safe in his arms.

"Do you think... we should talk to someone? A professional?" He asked, "I... I never told anyone, but... It... Might be good. For both of us."

"I think so, too." You pressed a kiss over his heart, "Can we go to bed, though, like this?"

"Of course, my blossom."

Kaeya

Kaeya considered himself pretty keen--He noticed how you would, oftentimes, try to desperately explain and justify doing anything. You were minding your own business, reading? You'd try and justify it, "I just... had a hard day. It's not anything bad, I promise."

And he's usually reply with that signature smile, "You could be reading porn and I wouldn't mind, you know."

You laughed it off, but there was an edge of fear in your voice.

Fear.

You were always afraid, and he wanted to fix that. So, he took a day off, just to prepare everything. Some nice candles, a good dinner, some fine wine... And when you came home, he hugged you, held you delicately like you were made of glass. You had a lovely dinner together, with sweet smiles and gentle kisses...

Until the two of you sat together, and Kaeya, lightly, rested his hand on your leg.

"I... Figure you're in a decently-good mood, right?"

You were, it was nice... but you were terrified about what he was going to ask.

"I wanted to you about something... why are you so... scared around me? I don't mind what you do, you can read what you want and do what you want, you don't need my approval for anything... except maybe sleeping with others, but..." He sighed, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" He grabbed your hand, holding it with both of his own, "I want to make this right, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

...

How could you respond?

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm... just afraid. Old habits die hard, I guess," you laugh, but it's broken and forced--Kaeya does not laugh.

"Why?" He asked, voice low, "Are... is something threatening you? Blackmailing you? If you just tell me, I can fix it. I have my ways."

"No, it's... not blackmail." You tried to think of how to word it.

"If I may guess," he said, "Has someone... hurt you in the past?"

As you looked at him, eyes wide and vulnerable... he knew he hit the nail in the head.

Suddenly, you poured it all out.

How, everytime you did anything, even just looked at someone for too long, how he would yell at you, punish you for anything you did. Reading a book for your studies, he would threaten to burn it, you desperately having to convince him of its innocuous nature, hiding anything you wanted to keep safe.

How he'd scream for hours at a time, until his voice was hoarse and you were terrified he'd make good on his promises that you'd die by his hand.

As you spoke, Kaeya had only stopped looking at you for a single moment, to grab a box of tissues to set upon your lap, "Go on," he said, when you hesitated.

And, now you leaned against his shoulder, slumping... weak and exhausted. He, slowly, wrapped his arms around you, letting your head fall to his chest as he squeezed you close.

"I... I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, love,"

For a moment, he was quiet.

"I don't know how to help, but... I know someone you can talk to. Help you... Get through it. Therapy."

You lifted your head, looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Will you come with me?"

He hesitated.

"He's safe... But I'll go with you a few times until you can trust them, okay?"

You, weakly, nodded. "Okay."

"For now... Do you want to go to bed?"

Weakly, you smiled, "Only if you keep me safe from my nightmares."

Kaeya smiled back-"I'll do the best I can."

#genshin impact #diluc #childe #kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #bark writes #angst #angsty bark #hurt and comfort #// took me awhile...

[littlemissnoname13]

Three Days With You - Part Two

Summary: Draco has a rather interesting day planned for the two of you. Joined by familiar faces, old wounds resurface leaving the two of you with more questions than answers.

Warnings: smut,mature language and scenes, drinking, a fair amount of angst, mentions of blood

Word count: 3000

A/n: it’s 4am and I’m sleep deprived. This series is a bit plot heavy as opposed to WOS. I tried so very hard to fit everything under the 3000 word limit I’ve set for each part.

Song that plays as they dance: Fade into you by Mazzy Star

Part one | Masterlist

~~~

Sometime around Umbridge’s reign of terror, 5th year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

With his arms folded, Draco casually reclined against the wall and he watched you write lines with Umbridge’s quill. He tried to keep a straight face but it was hard not to wince as he watched the words etch themselves onto your skin.

It seemed that Dolores Jane Umbridgde wasn’t really fond of you. In fact, he was certain she despised you just as much as Potter.

This was your third consecutive evening in detention and as a member of the inquisitorial squad, he was tasked with the duty of keeping an eye on you.

And while you did a moderately decent job of keeping a straight face through the searing sensations, he could sense that you were clearly in pain.

“Murtlap essence.” Draco said quietly and you dropped the quill and turned around to look at him. “It should help with the abrasions.”

“Why are you talking to me, Malfoy?”

Draco arched a brow at your question but internally, he too was pondering why he was talking to you.

Nobody talked to you.

You always spent most of your time scribbling furiously into what looked like a diary of some sort. You barely had any friends and most of his so-called friends were very upfront about their disdain for you and your muggleborn heritage.

“Why can’t I talk to you?” He finally asked, walking up to where you were seated.

“Are you asking me or are you asking yourself?” You quipped and went back to writing lines with that wretched quill. You always seemed so unbothered by everything.

A part of his brain was telling him to shut up and another part of his brain was trying to come up with a witty response just to impress you.

“I’m asking you.” He sighed in defeat before crouching down next to you to look at the gashes on your hand. “Why can I not talk to you?”

“Hm, let’s see..” You said with a bit more salt than you intended to. “Your Pure blood ideals that classify people like me as mudbloods, the prejudice, not to mention Umbitch who wouldn’t be very pleased to see you talk to me while I’m writing lines for her.”

His fingertips ghosted over your cuts, barely making contact with the blood as he contemplated running outside to look for some murtlap essence himself.

“Dont.” You winced when his skin made contact with the cuts. “Just don’t. I don’t need your pity.”

His eyes caught sight of yours as you pulled your hand away and he immediately felt uneasy at the sight of them. It was a kind of wistfulness, a type of yearning and nostalgia for something that never was. Something that never could be. And it somehow made him want it even more.

Draco lifted his hand, letting his fingers brush against your cheek and he heard you reflexively draw in a sharp breath.

He found himself leaning in to capture your lips in his but you hesitated.

“It wouldn’t be justifiable if something happened in between us.” You whispered, leaning an inch away from him. “It would be highly inconvenient for you if someone found out.”

“Then I guess, no one must know.” His voice was hoarse before he crashed his lips into yours.

How was he ever going to explain himself if anyone found out? His whole life, he was taught to be repelled by your kind. He was, however, anything but repelled.

He was swallowing all of the little whimpers that you made and he was revelling in the feel of your smooth skin underneath your shirt.

How was he ever going to justify the way he was slowly allowing his fingers to trace your inner thighs before pushing your panties aside to press his finger into your wetness.

Gods, the sounds you were making when he pushed a finger inside of you.

Why were you allowing him to touch you like this?

Hair tousled, shirt unbuttoned with your breasts falling out, legs spread open for him to see. For him to claim.

“Is this okay?” He asked before taking a slow lick up your soaked cunt and you raked your fingers into his hair and gripped hard as you nodded eagerly.

One taste of you and instantaneously forgot everything that was expected of him. It didn’t bother him what type of blood ran through your veins. The way he wanted to kneel and worship your pretty and wet cunt was more sacred than the entire bloody sacred twenty eight.

When he finally lined his hardened erection up against your entrance, he noticed that you had suddenly tensed. Your hesitation was notable in the way you tilted your head and stared at the floor like your life depended on it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, using his index finger to tilt your face back to him. “Tell me, y/n. Do you want me to stop?”

That was the first time he’d used your given name and saying it made his ears turn hot.

“No—No I don’t want you to stop.” You whispered, still refusing to look at him. “It’s just that—I’ve never..”

How could he have been so dense?

The way you were digging your nails into his arms, your whimpers, and the way you winced when he pushed his fingers inside you should have told him that you were a virgin.

He caressed your cheeks slightly and dipped his head lower to press a kiss onto your forehead before backing away.

He didn’t want your first time to be with someone like him, during Umbridge’s detention of all places with your cuts still bleeding and seeping into the cotton of his white shirt.

“Draco don’t.” You whispered his given name softly and grabbed him by the arm before he had the chance to walk away. “Don’t go.”

“But y/n—”

You pulled him in and pressed your lips on his before he could reason with you.

He had the choice to walk away from you, from all this but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt different with you.

He asked you one more time before lining himself up against you. And when you gave him a soft and breathy “yes”, he pushed.

Your walls clenched him in and you tried your best to repress your tearful whimper by biting down on the exposed part of his shoulder.

He made sure to be gentle with you when he made the first few thrusts.

Soon enough, your grip on his arms loosened. Your cries morphed into tiny little gasps and moans of his name and you began to kiss the same place you were previously biting.

And at that very moment he knew you had surrendered yourself to him.

Wholly. Completely. Entirely.

At the particular moment, you belonged to nobody but Draco Lucius Malfoy and he—

~~~

Present day, Pilgrim’s Inn, 9:27 Am

Draco, fixing you both a cup of coffee, stilled and snapped out of the flashback inside his mind when you let out a small grumble in your sleep and reached towards his side of the bed.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself when he noticed the visibly annoyed look on your sleepy face when all you felt were pillows and sheets.

As much he wanted to sit and watch you sleep like a mega creep, it seemed like a good time to wake you up.

~~~

He was still wearing the same trousers and black shirt from the previous night when your eyes fluttered open. Only this morning, the shirt was buttoned halfway, exposing most of his chest and torso. The sleeves had been rolled back and you felt your stomach twist into a knot at the sight of his dark mark.

It served as a constant reminder that you only really had three days with him.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, Draco stood up and walked towards the bed with a ceramic mug filled to the brim with coffee causing your lips to twist into a grateful smile.

“Drink up.” He said as he sat down on the chair next to you. “We have a long day ahead of us.”

After a big gulp of the coffee, you put the mug on the bed side table and looked at him.

“We do?”

“Of course we do.” He motioned towards a turquoise box on top of the dresser, sounding giddy and excited. He almost sounded like the carefree and careless Draco you loved to hate from the first few years at school.

You quickly threw the duvet off your body and scurried towards the dresser; the floorboards of the inn creaked as you did so.

“What’s in the box?” You turned your head back to look at him.

Draco’s cheeks were flushed and he was watching you with darkened eyes. His firm grip on the mug made his knuckles turn pale and you only realized you were standing in front of him naked when you saw the growing bulge in his pants

You ignored your own blood rush to your cheeks while you unwrapped the box to see what he was so excited about.

It was an oxblood red dress, with the softest fabric you’d ever touched. Long flowy sleeves and a plunging neckline, it was strikingly gorgeous.

“A Dress Draco?” You raised a brow at him.

“For our very first date. And for later..” he smirked and you scanned the entire dresser to find an appropriate object to throw at him.

“That’s some way to ask a girl out and must you always think about sex?!” You accused even though you were thinking about it too and reached for a book he’d left on top of the dresser to throw at him.

Before launching the book his way, you paused to examine the book on your hand that read Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage. It was only then that you realized that more than half of the books he had in the inn were about potions and alchemy.

How could you have not realised? Potions was the only subject he really seemed to enjoy at school.

Even during the nights you spent together back in school, you’d prop yourself up on his bed, wrap a sheet carelessly around your bare body and watch him stay up late to work on his Potions homework.

You’d always encourage him towards a career in potion making and he’d smile wistfully at the idea before turning to look at the snake and skull tattoo on his forearm. With a vacant look in his otherwise mercurial eyes, he’d remind you that he would have liked that if the circumstances were different.

You dropped the book back on the desk and instantly flung yourself into his arms.

~~~~

When he felt you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, Draco stiffened.

The way you were holding him made it seem like you were already saying your goodbyes and he felt as if someone had repeatedly used the cruciatus curse on him. He couldn’t bring himself to think about his life without you in it.

He wasn’t ready.

Draco quickly sorted out his scrambled thoughts and placed his oculomancy walls up as high as he could.

“As sexy as you are naked, I’d very much like to see that dress on you.”

You slightly sniffled before walking back towards the dresser to slip the dress on. The way you struggled with the zipper was adorable to him and he helped you zip it up with a crooked grin on his face.

Considering the present situation, taking you outside of the inn was risky so he’d taken it upon himself to arrange a perfect little lunch at the inn itself. Complete with vintage wine, a lavish main course and a decadent dessert to top it all off.

Sure, it took another huge wad of muggle cash, and coaxing the owner but the look on your face when he fed you a spoonful of chocolate mousse was worth it.

He was going to be the best fucking boyfriend on the face of this planet even if it was only for three days.

Draco took your hand, kissed you on the knuckle, guided you to the table, pulled your chair out for you and tried his hardest to not stare at your cleavage for more than thirty seconds.

Thank Merlin for all of the etiquette training he had to undergo when he was younger!

~~~

The two of you didn't really get around making much progress on the rest of the items on Draco’s itinerary filled with cliched tripes like reading poetry to each other and slow dancing to a song playing on the vintage turntable in the far corner of the room.

You’d never taken him for a romantic but he was adamant on the idea of finding “your song” from the tracks on the record that was spinning round and round.

When the both of you finally stopped bickering and agreed on a song, he stood up in front of you and offered you his hand.

Fade into you. Strange you never knew…

The chorus went as he took the lead and swayed you slowly across the room, careful not to trip on furniture.

Both of you barely made it to the end of the song and you weren’t even surprised.

~~~

“Gods you really do look beautiful in this dress..” he let out a low growl when he stopped dancing to pin you against the mattress and attach his lips to the pulse point of your neck.

To his utter surprise, you wasted no time in yanking his belt buckle.

“I need you…Draco Lucius Malfoy.” You pleaded as you started to pump his length in your hand. “I need you now.”

Urgency was dripping through every syllable that left your lipstick smudged mouth. Arousal was seeping through the fabric of your panties and Draco was afraid he’d come just by watching you like that.

“Say it again..” he whispered as he attached his mouth to your firm nipple. “Please—y/n, just say my name like that again..”

“Draco…”

With no hesitation or remorse, he pried your legs apart and pushed his cock right where it belonged inside of you. The way your body reacted to the motion drove him insane.

He often questioned his place in the universe, it was a constant battle between light and dark, between right and wrong.

But with you, he always felt like he belonged.

“You’re going to make me come…Draco..”

He buried his face into your hair and continued to fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

It was never like this with anybody else for him. And it was never going to be.

“I love you.” You whispered as you succumbed to your orgasm, heedless of the way your words would affect him.

How could you say those words out loud so often and not care about the consequences that came along with it?

“Don’t be selfish..” He groaned, feeling his own high approaching at the sound of those words. “Don’t you dare…”

“I love you.” You moaned, louder this time. “I love—”

He silenced you with a kiss before you could say it again. The weight of those words were always too much for him. Especially when he knew he had less than seventy two hours with you.

Draco began to think about all those years of childish games and wasted time as strong stinging sensations prickled up on his skin.

First, at the pit of his stomach. Then, on his left forearm.

He’d been called upon.

~~~

“Do not leave this inn. You understand?” He warned as he quickly redressed. “I’ll have someone sent over to look after you.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” You protested as you wrapped the sheets around your body and got out of bed. “I don’t need a babysitter,Draco.”

His eyes darkened and his expressions hardened as he heard your words and you gulped when he stormed over to where you stood.

“Listen to me carefully.” He gripped hard onto your shoulders and shook you. “Stay put and only open the door if you hear three knocks.”

It took a second for you to let his words sink in but you slowly nodded.

His cold hands cupped either of your cheeks and his forehead pressed up against yours; desperate and frantic eyes stared back at you.

“I have one more thing on my itinerary for us.” He said, conjuring the best smile he could give you before leaning in to press a slow and soft kiss on your lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

You held onto his words, dressed yourself in one of his sweaters, paced back and forth in the room, made yourself a cup of strong black coffee and even read through his extensive collection of books.

After what seemed like an hour, you heard it. Three very precise knocks on your door.

Very anxiously, you opened the door to find a brunette boy giving you a Cheshire Cat kind of smile.

He casually leaned forward to squeeze you into a bone crushing hug as if you were a long lost family member and you scrunched up your nose, awkwardly hugging back.

“I believe a proper introduction is long overdue.” He said as he let go. “Theodore Nott.”

“I know who you are.” You mumbled as you stepped back to let him in. “I have seen you in class.”

“Great.” He smiled as his eyes danced around the room to look at the books, the coffee pot, the turntable and the remains of what used to be the dress Draco got you.

A bright pink flush swiped across your cheeks as Theo disapprovingly shook his head. “I know you both spent half of the day shagging but please tell me you managed to do at least five activities from the itinerary!”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because I had to unfortunately sit and watch him put the blasted itinerary together.” Theo sighed, as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the coffee pot before reaching for a tiny flask inside his jacket. “Occulumancy aside, Ferret is also rubbish at hiding things from me.”

You let out a snort when you remembered Draco the ferret.

After your laughter simmered down, Theo took a rather cautious step towards you before offering you his flask.

“Nothing happened between him and Pansy that day y/n.”

Your heart started to ache as your mind started recollecting that day. That goddamned day.

“And you’re telling me this now because?”

Theo sat down on the floor and patted the empty space next to him with a sad little smile on his face.

“Closure.”

(To be continued….)

~~~~~~

Part three preview:

The two of you laid peacefully next to each other one top of a picnic blanket he’d conjured, somewhere in the middle of a forest clearing

The stark black sky was littered with a million shimmering stars. Protective wards were in place and the air was saturated with the scent of pine wood and moss.

From across the blanket, Draco reached for your hand and gave it a little squeeze and you turned to your side to get a better view of him—his silver hair giving the moonlight a run for its money.

“Lyrids.” He smiled, pointing his index finger at the sky as meteors started falling from the sky, one after another…

TDWY tag list: @nicofiliac @emma67 @kimberlyxmalfoy @palecaramel @letoof @ameliasbitvh @sycathorn-slush @dr4cking @malfoyswifeyy @arzfia @icedlattewithalmondmilk @alisslahey @lieswithoutfairytales @dracoslittlesunflower @dmalfoyswhore @serpentesonagli @dracomalfoys-wh0re

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Love,

A very sleep deprived and delirious vi

#draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fic #draco angst #draco lucius malfoy #draco series #draco x reader smut #draco x you #draco x reader #draco smut #three days with you #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy

[licuadora-nasir]

Thoughts on Eldarya ANE Episode 6.

Ah, yes, this great moment where I have to truly think about one of the reasons why I'm obsessed with fictional characters and realise that it's full of plot holes and incoherence. Great.

This is quite large, so I've splitted the ramblings in several topics, therefore, if you want to read about an specific subject, you just have to scroll down and take a look a the titles lol.

Erika

To begin with, let’s talk about Erika. I’m glad this episode inserted internal dialogues to give her development and personality, but there are some things I don’t get. How’s that you do not miss the place where you’ve lived more than 20 years? You have literally been one year and two months awake in eldarya.

That crap about how useful and appreciated you are here? At the beginning they saw you as some kind of hindrance, and now you’ve become both a myth and a legend, a tool, they don’t worry about your mental health nor Leiftan’s.

Basically, they’re relieved that you’re here again so you can fix their new and growing problems, to add insult to injury, you’ve been sent to a mission where if you hadn’t magically (and I said magically cause the sparkling guard already knew Leiftan wasn’t going to help her) recovered your powers you would have almost died several times. To pinpoint, I’m kinda disappointed this hate towards Lance has already ended. You literally despised him yesterday.

Koori

Koori, well, makes me very nervous. Yes, please do not come to roast me, I fully understand that this mission is a trigger to all her traumas, stress and anxiety, but there are behaviours that doesn’t justify it. The peebles, for example. In the battle, it was a delicate situation and it wouldn’t have been convenient to tell her how dumb she has been, but I dont agree with the “Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault thing”, yes, yes it is.

You almost end your life because of the stupid peebles, and you knew they were dangerous for both you and your crew and you still kept them after being told to drop them. Very unprofessional. What I did like was her new growing friendship with Leiftan. I feel like those two might get along.

Leiftan

At first, I did understand Leiftan’s attitude. It’s completely understandable that he needs time to think about his well-being and mental health, but there are things that I can’t stand. One thing is that you do not want to use your powers and hurt people (whether enemy or not) and another is doing absolutely nothing, which is worthless.

Leiftan is completely capable of managing in any situation with or without his powers (please, he was part of the sparkling and managed to kill several people disguised as a stupid lorialet), and If he had wanted, he could have helped Koori waking her up, try and assist Matheiu when the kitsunes were after him OR KEEP EDGAR SAFE with a low-key profile. However, his great decision was running to the boat leaving his crew in a dangerous and mortal situation. Lol.

Yes, it was Huang Hua’s fault for forcing him to go to that mission but he isn’t dumb, he knew what to expect from this situation.

Nevra, Lance, Mathieu.

I don’t have much to say about Lance and Nevra? Yeah, it was utterly cruel leaving Edgard to froze to death, but honestly? Coming from those two I’m not surprised lol. It was a logical and a stupid decision, cause I don’t know what they would have told Huang Hua as an excuse of why the two most powerful men in the guard coouldn’t find a solution to get a human in the boat. Guess you’d have to eat less, but after living in a world where food and water used to be racionated, I think you’ve been through worst lmao.

I liked how they expressed that Mathieu was very worried for his friend, during the whole episode we’ve seen he was genuinely concerned about Koori and how he appreciates her.

Edgard.

Edgard is a great example that explains that Beemoov does know how to write characters, but sometimes I don’t know why but it seems that they don’t feel like doing it. We’ve get a character with humanity (You cannot convince me that Erika and Mathieu act like humans lmao), that has reacted as any other human would have done in his circumstances, suffering cold, hunger, fear and dirtiness. I’ve liked him since pretty much the beginning, I’ve even become fond of him.

Honestly, even though it has been heartbreaking and expected, my favourite scene it’s his death. During the whole episode Mathieu and Erika have been trying to cheer him up, to calm him down, while they’re hope about saving Edgard and show him the world of Eldarya (starting with the companions while Erika, Edgard and Lance were having a conversation) was sinking. Damn., even I for a moment was hopeful.

The moment where Ophelia appeared and said that one of them was going to die while Edgard was terrified freaked me out, but it freaked me out in a good sense.

His assassination was… Scenic. After all those promises Erika made to the man, telling him she would keep him safe and sound, Tenjin threw a dagger at his throat in the middle of their departure, and Edgar falls dead. Gardienne doesn’t even have and opportunity to process how all her expectations are shattered when she was dragged to the boat, leaving Edgard's lifeless body on the snow. A reminder of how Eldarya is a cruel world where humans doesn’t have a place. A very dramatic moment, one of those that characterize Eldarya and that I missed so much.

Conclusion

In a nutshell, the plot’s development has been slow, there have been a lot of filling about useless explanations of obvious things that could have been replaced with MORE MOMENTS with the LOVE INTERESTS, and the last dialogue with d¡the crush… LMAO, come on let’s be honest, I’m glad they didn’t forget this is an otome, but was it really the moment after that failure of a mission? HAHAHAHAHA, oh goddamn, you better give me the flirting soon or I’ll drive mad Beemoov. A slow episode but with good moments.

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya a new era lance #eldarya ANE #eldarya episode 6 #eldarya 6x2 #lance #eldarya lance #lance eldarya #leiftan #leiftan eldarya #eldarya leiftan #nevra #nevra eldarya #eldarya nevra #mathieu #eldarya mathieu #mathieu eldarya #koori #eldarya koori #koori eldarya #erika #eldarya erika #erika eldarya #gardienne #gardienne eldarya #eldarya gardienne #my ramblings #my rambling #beemoov

[multimetaverse]

HSMTMTS 2x01 Review

New Year’s Eve was a great way to return to HSMTMTS especially after such a long gap. Let’s dig in!

Vladimir Lenin once said that, ‘’ there are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen". It’s been almost a year and half since S1 ended but this past week has seen revelation after revelation as the fandom has resurrected itself and promotion for S2 kicked into high gear: Joshua Bassett came out, Frankie and Joe confirmed that they are a real life couple, Larry seemingly confirmed that S2 will only have 11 eps rather than the 12 initially ordered, and perhaps most importantly Olivia revealed that she and the main cast are under contract for 4 seasons and made clear that she’s leaving the show as soon as her contract is up.

I really enjoyed this premiere, it felt like picking up right back where we left off. I’m guessing that S2 was originally supposed to premiere around Christmas or New Year’s but the holiday decorations and real Utah snow add a charming aesthetic to the ep. Tim Federle deserves credit for giving HSMTMTS more of an ensemble feel which is no easy feat with a cast as large as this show has. It likely won’t last due to covid restrictions  but at least for tonight we got to see all the characters hanging out together acting like a real group of friends.

The dialogue tonight really reminded me of Glee and I think I mean that as a compliment. Miss Jenn in particular seems to be doing her best April Rhodes impression minus the alcoholism. 

The rini scenes tonight were lovely. Perfect gift was a great song and I loved the rini duet during the music in me as the world faded around them leaving just the two of them. The Harry Styles reference is funny in light of Josh’s coming out interview. Of course, it’s hard now to separate Nini and Ricky and Olivia and Josh. Their chemistry shines through as 2x01, 2x02, and possibly parts of 2x03 were filmed pre Jolivia breakup which seems to have happened around summer 2020. Whether they can keep that same chemistry later on in S2, not to mention future seasons, remains to be seen.

A major theme tonight was communication and clearly Rini need to work on theirs. Poor Ricky had to learn that Nini’s moving to Denver the night before she leaves town which has to remind of him of his mom effectively abandoning him. Ricky saying that he’s never gonna breakup with Nini ever again sure sounds like foreshadowing for a disaster though the odds that this time Nini initiates the breakup are pretty good. 

I’m glad that the show is continuing to delve in the Bowen’s divorce story with their house being sold and Ricky and his dad having to move into an apartment. Divorce is expensive and the division of assets typically leave people less well off. Mike Bowen needs to work on his communication skills but he’s rocking that beard; it takes him from depressed divorced dad to depressed divorced daddy.

Seblos was cute and in a nice change of pace Disney doesn’t seem to be cynically teasing them then cutting their scenes. It was refreshing to see them just being a couple and to hear Carlos casually refer to himself as gay. In that regard tonight’s ep didn’t seem like it was a Disney show at all and it’s major progress that there are now two main gay characters on HSMTMTS. We learn that Carlos is rich which seems likely to be a source of conflict with Seb who comes from a large farming family.

Bet on It was really fun and I liked that Ricky apparently couldn’t stop singing it. The medley of HSM 2 songs was fun but I’ll be real with you wildcats, I never thought HSM 2 or 3 were nearly as good as the first movie so I’m not sad that they’re doing something else this year.

Wild that Big Red’s mom also calls him Big Red. Salt Lake Slices seems poised to be a big part of S2 both as hangout spot and work location for some of the characters. Redlyn are sweet together but sometimes Big Red comes off as a closeted gay guy which isn’t ideal for a het pairing that is supposedly a big part of S2.

Nice to see Gina so excited to have sleepovers with Ashlyn. We know from 2x03 that Gina contends with being single on Valentine’s day and from her glances at Ricky tonight she’s clearly not over him. Tim’s playing with fire and I can only hope he knows what he’s doing. I liked the little detail of Kourtney having AOC on her vision board, it feels true to the character (hopefully AOC gets elected president one day if the USA doesn’t collapse into a fascist dictatorship or civil war before then). EJ’s beard has got to go but I like that he seems committed to being a better version of himself; very doubtful his plan to go straight to Duke like his forefathers doesn’t change by the end of the season. 

Derek Hough did a good job of playing Zach as a subtly condescending man who managed to swiftly undermine Miss Jenn’s confidence, we’ll see what he and North High bring to the table.

Looking Ahead:

Next week are auditions for Beauty and the Beast, we know Ashlyn gets the role of Belle and EJ has conveniently removed himself from the running for Beast which presumably clears the path for Ricky to take the lead. There’s been some controversy over the casting choices and I’ll save my comments about it for the 2x02 review.

We get to see Lily who looks like a meaner version of season 1 Gina, we’ll see how much depth she actually ends up getting. Howie is introduced in 2x03 and Antoine likely shows up later on. Jack likely shows up towards the end of the season.

Howie seems to have a connection with Kourtney though the character synopsis does say he gets close to a wildcat or two which certainly leaves room to slide him into Gina’s plot. We know Antoine is into Ashlyn so that’s another love triangle to look forward to. Jack was described as having wanderlust and most of the cast seems not to have filmed with him so I think it’s likely that he plays a role in convincing EJ to take a gap year rather than head straight to Duke. 

A translation leak on TikTok reveals that in 2x03 Gina is sad that she’s only gotten a Valentine’s Day gift from her mom. A brief clip from the promo shows up her on her porch at night holding a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that’s supposed to be from a secret or semi-secret admirer than it has to be from either EJ, Ricky, or Howie. If it’s a platonic gift then it could be from anyone, we’ll see what Tim has up his sleeves.

Nini moving back to SLC is a question of when not if. It’s going to be very difficult to bring her back in a way that’s justified and also doesn’t leave the time she spends in Denver looking like a total waste. Frankly, I’d rather the show just bite the bullet and bring her back with as little fuss as possible.

We’re possibly around a quarter way through HSMTMTS given that the mains have 4 season contracts and presuming that the show is not cancelled earlier. At the very least the show will be radically different after S4 if they try to continue it as Olivia has made very clear that she’s going to leave asap to pursue her burgeoning music career full time (notably she’s only done the bare minimum of promo for S2). 

Looming over the remaining seasons of HSMTMTS is what the professional relationship between Olivia and Josh looks like especially since in many ways the show is built around Ricky and Nini. Off screen relationships have often caused on screen problems and dating a co-worker is rarely a good idea since even clean breakups leave lingering resentments. Obviously the Jolivia breakup was not clean, Driver’s License, Deja Vu, and Good 4 U (which is a certified bop) were clearly written from a place of hurt and in some ways were written to hurt. It’s no surprise that Joshua has dropped his duet with Sabrina Carpenter from his EP; someone on his team at least is trying to stop the damage to his reputation. There’s a decent chance that Olivia’s songs becoming such hits has irreparably damaged Joshua Bassett’s reputation among the same pool of largely young women that he’s targeting his music towards thereby cutting off his music career at the knees. If nothing else this behind the scenes drama should keep things entertaining for a while.

Until next week Wildcats 

#HSMTMTS #Rini #Seblos #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Carlos Rodriguez #Seb Matthew-Smith #Gina Porter #ej caswell #HSMTMTS Reviews

[yesvaldemarharder]

Yandere Arcana

Ayo so um.. with 723 followers I really be expecting people for more input on things I should write (requests, ideas, convos, etc) but um.. I guess not? Lol. Anyway since I’m basically writing for like a couple people (people who actually respond to my work cause I like that. If you just like and reblog that’s fine but I still like hearing what people have to say about my work. If your shy don’t be.. I literally don’t judge..) I’ll go ahead and write scenarios for Yandere Arcana. If y’all want more of this just tell me. I was almost tempted to do nsfw lol!

I wanna say that I haven’t played the game enough to finish anyone’s route and while I want to, ya girl broke so picking choices is something I have to wait a while for as well. (The cost on those coins and I can’t even get a Valdemar route??? What type of shit-)

If any of the characters seem ooc I apologize I just really wanted to write this so um.. yeah.

I guess I’ll take the time to part a warning right here: If you don’t like yanderes or anything of the sort I suggest you don’t read this! I would do the ‘below the cut’ thing but I’m all honestly I don’t know how to.. so here ya go!

You have been warned!

-

Asra

Asra is a tricky yandere. He knows you well enough to get into your head.

He may take times to keep a distance from you but whenever he messages you or comes back he always makes sure to show you so much affection just so you hopefully don’t question anything.

He’ll act like something to you matters to him, and usually they do matter but if you’re talking about a love interest or something he’ll act supportive but will really be a bit annoyed on the inside.

Depending on your love interest he may get upset or simply will smile and try to ‘help you get them’. Don’t let it be Lucio or Julian.. he’ll be furious.

If he acts like he’s happy to help and your LI disappears then he probably did or didn’t send them somewhere where neither of you two can meet again. Like a portal to a dark cold place or something.

He’s like a snake.. or even a fox. He’s the magician for a reason.

Nadia

Nadia probably won’t even hide how much of a yandere she is.. okay maybe just a little.

She’s the countess, what does she need to hide? She’s also meant to be with you and you’re supposed to love her no matter what. Nadia seems to be a bit of an oblivious yandere. Not aware that what she does for you is rather scary at times.

She showers you in gifts. Some of the cutest clothes just to basically play dress up with you like your some little doll. She doesn’t like it when you turn down a gift and while there’s a couple times she’ll get frustrated in the end she’ll send the gift to you late at night with a sweet not hoping you take it.

While she usually ask for your input against other’s, when it comes to someone who isn’t much use to the palace or her especially sniffing up on you she’ll usually deal with them.. whether banishing them and having them get hunted down throughout the forest like some sort of game.

She can be ruthless, and when she’s really in a bad mood it’s hard for her to listen to anyone. Don’t beg for her not to kill off someone because she most likely will act you didn’t say anything, kiss your forehead, and will proceed with the execution.

Also gets really touchy with you when her sisters are around..

Portia

Portia is usually a very carefree chick but while she can be easygoing she can be rather on guard about you.

It’s not often with you, because she doesn’t want you to know the bad things she’d do for you, but every once in a while she’ll ‘joke’ about killing for you. She’s caring and always makes sure you’re safe so you don’t question it until she actually does it when you have a suspicion that she did it..

Will cry and manipulate you into believing she’s innocent because seeing fear on your face towards her makes her scared. She was just doing what was ‘right’, of course her terminology of right is different from yours tho.. that’s why she lies about not doing it.

You’ll trust her and while you’re still a bit nervous she’ll work on that making sure to check up on you often. Once she gains your trusts back again she grows to be a lot more sneaky.

Rat poison is probably what slipped into the man’s tea after her kept messing with you but who knows?

Julian

Julian can be much like his sister but instead of growing emotional to defend himself he grows serious. It’s so different from his usually jokingly self and reminds you of the red plague times so you can’t help but apologize for accusing him.

He may not have killed Lucio but he’s definitely took a couple people out for you. Most unintentionally but still did it anyway. That guy couldn’t swim and Julian simply didn’t hear him crying for help.. it’s okay though cause you did say he had a weird vibe about him anyway, obviously Julian agreed.

He can be clingy, needy, and touchy. If you don’t know about the yandere in him you love it and you loving it just manages to feed it more. If you do know about it and you’re scared he uses his touches to try and calm you down. To have you let your guard down.

He’ll use his self hate against you for many different reasons now. While he does hate himself he found that you usually encourage him or try to make him feel better after he talks about himself too much. He’ll use it on you to stop you from running away from him because your morals are far better than his at this point and he knows you’ll stay to try and help him.

When you find out that he’s been killing people you’re terrified and even though you know you should runaway and leave.. you also can’t help but want to help him.

What if he’s actually innocent like he was with Lucio? (Definitely not.) What if the depression got so bad and he couldn’t help himself? He needed help and only you could help him.

He’ll chuckle sometimes at how cute and silly you are. With how he is he knows you won’t be going anywhere and he’s perfectly fine with that because had you did think of running away he’d just chase you down and use he’s depression against you to make you feel bad for leaving and to bring you back to him.

Lucio

The coliseum was made for a reason... Lucio likes a good fight and anyone touching you, speaking with you, or even looking at you can make him want to have one.

If it isn’t a physical fight it’s a fight with words (which he isn’t that good at but his smugness makes it pay off)

He’s a hopeless romantic type of yandere and unlike his wife he actually doesn’t recognize or acknowledge the bad sides of himself. He either doesn’t to face them or actually thinks cutting that servants throat for huffing in your presence was justified.

You honestly can’t tell but hey, you’re scared. He’s a Count though... THE Count.. if he’s your yandere it’s going to be hard to get away from him without getting hunted down. He’ll make sure to keep an eye on you. (much like Nadia)

He’ll lock down the whole palace if it means keeping you in place. If you do manage to escape he’ll be highly impressed honestly before he’s goes hunting you down. When he finds you he’ll make sure the palace is locked down a lot tighter then it has been before.

Muriel

He definitely starts out as a silent stalker type. Muriel isn’t really attracted to anyone before you and even though he is interested in you he makes you come to him.

I believe he’s actually one of the nicer yanderes but he does have his moments of being possessive.

He doesn’t want to hurt anyone unless it’s absolutely needed.. wouldn’t want to kill anyone for something silly.. of course not.

Ok! I’m at the courtiers! Now these ones might be sadder because I have a lot of headcanons for them. Mainly the horsemen and I do believe Valerius doesn’t have much story on him either so yeah.

Volta

Volta’s an absolute sweetheart. Tis is all.

Nah I’m fucking with y’all, it’s a yandere post.. anyway while Volta is a sweetheart she can’t help but be a bit possessive over you. Unlike the other courtiers her emotions come out a lot more and with her past she never thought she find someone like you.

Now that she has though it’s hard to separate the two of you..

She clings to you, cry for you when you’re gone for too long, feeds you if she’s really into you..

People don’t really see her as a threat and that’s only until she threatens to eat them.. when she gets like that people make sure to leave you be because the really aren’t sure if Volta will actually do it but with that bright playful but warning look in her eyes they don’t want to put it past her.

Vlastomil

Vlastomil kinda has that same oblivious energy in him as Lucio or Nadia however it may seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong but he really does.

He’s a demon, he knows how to play with humans but the thing is what he does is just him trying to understand himself better. Before you he only cared about his worm and now you were here.

He pretty much treats you like he treats Wriggler.. you’re very dear to him and let anything happen to you he’ll make sure everyone around knows how he feels. Whether it’s crying, shouting or simply anxiously looking for you.

He fears with other humans you’ll either get taken from him or get hurt but them and neither one of those are things he’s ok with obviously.

He’s a tricky demon, he may trick you into believing his morals verses your own.

“I love you dear! That’s why he has to go.. you don’t want him to hurt you yes?” He’ll manage to make you believe that everything he does is for you. If you have any sort of trauma he might even use that against you so be extra careful.

Valerius

I can see Valerius being much like Muriel but worse. He likes to stalk and watch you from afar until he can figure what’s the best route to take and going about getting to you.

He’s almost relieved you come to him first. The relationship is rather.. bumpy. At times he’ll be grumpy for no reason and sometimes you can get tired of that but anytime you threaten to leave him he gets you into bed a second faster and distracts you.

I can see him either being a good or bad yandere.. there’s no in between. Either he knows exactly how to keep you to himself or he struggles doing so which only frustrates you. You can say he takes some of that frustration out on you but he tries not to because the last thing he needs in to tell Lucio you ran off and have a bunch of guards chase you down.

Oh that’s right, Lucio helps him when it comes to reeling you in and keeping you their. It’s scary but how are yo to go against the Count and his Consul?

Valerius might say some really cruel things to you to make you stay. He doesn’t want to even think about you leaving him. The second he saw you was the same second he fell for you. He might question his own emotions a lot but after a while of simply stalking or having other people stalk you and report back to him, he can tell it is you that he wants.

Vulgora

Vulgora is one of the bad ones you can get. Their aggressiveness and bluntness can be scary so when you need to escape them not many will be willing to help you. Many might even be on their side out of fear of what the war demon can do.

I feel like Vulgora is one of these two yandere types if not both.

Either the type that uses anger as a way to express themselves even if they don’t want to. Like, they care very deeply about you but they are one of the courtiers who don’t understand these emotions.. it frustrates them to not understand and it makes them angry. They try not to take that anger out on you and usually ends it with taking the life of a mortal.. or a couple considering one isn’t enough.

The other type is the yandere who can’t hold their temper and simply wants you because they can have you. It’s a possessive thing.. no one can have you but them.

They won’t hesitate in killing for you and if you ask or grow scared they would try to say they didn’t do it. They’ll be honest. What are you going to do about it.. fight them? Leave them? Oh darling they believe you’re too smart to do something stupid like either one of those..

They’ll leave their mark on you, usually biting because even if there’s very few beings with teeth like theirs in the palace everyone know the deep marks belong to someone dangerous and usually people put a distance with you.

People might be scared of you for simply being trapped and stuck with them. Poor thing..

Valdemar

Go ahead and just pass away sis, we ain’t making it away from this one..

In all honesty Valdemar might be the worse yandere out of this group. Vulgora following after as well as Lucio, Vlastomil, and maybe Julian..

Now it’s either they don’t care about your feelings at all and well make sure you know it or they care far too much to let you out of their sight. Valdemar might be persistent to test on you and might do it even if you don’t want to but also they might grow worried about your safety if they do do it.

You’re like their precious little specimen and no matter what you do they are always watching. You can’t even escape them after death because they are death. There’s simply no escape.

It’s been centuries since they’ve felt as strongly for someone as they did you and that person didn’t make it to where they are now.. they refuse to let that happen again..

If you try to run from them they’ll have beings chase you, they’ll make you run for your life and when you come crying for help they’ll cackle in your face. They want you to know you can’t live without them and once that’s drilled into your head they’ll never allow you to ever get away.

#arcana game #the arcane game #count lucio #the arcana asra #julian devorak #the arcana game portia #nadia satrivana #the arcana muriel #quaestor valdemar #pontifex vulgora #procurator volta #praetor vlastomil #consul valerius #yandere #yandere arcana #x reader

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

CW: mentions of PTSD, mentions of alcoholism and past abuse, mentions of past toxic relationship

Taglist @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon

The thick fog that hovered above the ground made the forest seem like the scenery out of a gothic movie. Not that Alastair minded, he felt at home among the trees, in the darkness. He and Thomas had met after breakfast before Lucie or Cordelia had woken. Alastair had always been an early riser and he was glad to see Thomas was too. More than that, though, Alastair was a poor sleeper. He had frequent nightmares and so far he’d found nothing that helped. Not even his stuffed hedgehog, which he was ashamed to admit he still slept with.

‘Look. Over there,’ Thomas pointed, his finger aimed at the ground.

Alastair followed his gaze and saw a small hedgehog, walking along the shrubs. Hedgehogs were nocturnal creatures, he knew, it wasn’t common to see them during the day, even in early morning. It was adorable.

‘Aw. I love hedgehogs, they are my favorite animals,’ Alastair said with a small smile that was rare these days.

‘They suit you,’ Thomas agreed.

‘How exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, you’re prickly and need to be handled with care or you’ll sting, but when you can look past that you’re actually adorable.’

Thomas’ cheeks flushed a dark red. ‘What I mean is,’ he began, but Alastair interrupted him with a grin.

‘Adorable, huh?’ he said.

‘I guess so,’ Thomas said. ‘Cordelia told me you still sleep with your stuffed animals. She said your favorite is a hedgehog.’

‘Little traitor,’ Alastair said.

‘I sleep with mine too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have several owls. I just sleep more comfortable that way. I need something to hold on to.’

He was surprised Thomas didn’t judge him. He felt his father would have, had he known, but he’d been too drunk to notice.

Alastair’s smile returned. ‘Now that is adorable. To tell you the truth, I keep mine around to protect me from nightmares.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Does that work?’

‘Not really. But at least holding onto something helps me relax enough to fall asleep.’

He could lie awake at night sometimes. Lately, Alastair was always tired. He did what was expected of him during the day, but he never felt rested or energetic. Even after a long night sleep with minimal nightmares, he woke tired and staying in bed didn’t help.

They talked about all sorts of topics, history, books they read, what Alastair’s first year at university had been like. Thomas told him about previous summers, which they’d usually spent in Spain. He’d spent enough time there to be fluent in Spanish now, partially because his parents had studied there and his father liked to speak Spanish at home. Alastair was surprised how easy conversing with Thomas was. He’d always struggled with making small talk, with keeping the conversation going, but Thomas didn’t shy away from more serious topics and seemed genuinely interested in what Alastair had to say.

He and Thomas continued their walk, and Alastair could tell something was bothering Thomas. He was tense, his shoulders a bit hunched. Alastair had learnt to sense when people were anxious or tense and tended to get nervous himself whenever that happened. He wondered if he’d always been hypersensitive to other people’s moods, or if he’d learnt after having to anticipate his father’s moods and then Charles’ for such a long time. He narrated a description of his surroundings to himself in an attempt to ground him in reality, to calm down enough that he could help and support Thomas. He felt useless, what was the point in being able to read people if their anxiety bothered him so much?

‘Are you alright?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Why do you ask?’ Thomas asked, his voice uneven.

‘Because you seem anxious about something. Is it about me? Are you still mad about what happened at school?’

Alastair had always been more tolerant around Thomas himself, but he’d treated Thomas’ friends awfully. All he felt right now was a horrible guilt and regret for what he’d done. For how he’d justified his actions, telling himself that it was better than being bullied, that what he did wasn’t as bad as what other students had done to him. All empty excuses, and it had never been alright.

‘It’s not about you,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand why you did it, but I know you were going through some difficult times. Besides, it happened so long ago. James and Matthew are still upset, I think. But they’re not here. I don’t think Matthew would like it much here anyway. He prefers to spend his holidays shopping and drinking at bars until late night.’

Alastair tensed a bit when Thomas’ mentioned Matthew’s drinking the way he always did when alcohol was mentioned. Once he’d been able to take care of his drunk father with little emotion, pushing everything to the bottom until he was sure his father was alright and Cordelia wouldn’t discover he wasn’t ill. Nowadays even mentions of alcohol or drinking tended to make him feel sick, as if an invisible hand was clutching at his stomach, at his heart. Just breathe, he told himself.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not supposed to mention alcohol around you, am I?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I take it everyone knows, then?’

Alastair still found it difficult when people knew about his disorder. It was difficult to ask for adjustments, to admit a weakness and ask people to not drink in his presence, to ask people to change their own behavior for his sake. He knew most people wouldn’t be willing to do that, and he’d much rather not ask and pretend everything was fine. But eventually he’d had to admit to himself he just couldn’t handle being around people drinking and alcohol was so normalized in Britain it was difficult to avoid sometimes.

‘Not the particulars,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But Mr. Herondale warned us that we shouldn’t drink, nor discuss alcohol when you’re there.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair said. ‘As long as I don’t see you drink, or smell it on you, it’s fine.’

People talking about alcohol could be difficult, but he could manage. He would. Matthew Fairchild was across the sea, and him drinking alcohol didn’t harm Alastair. It wasn’t his problem.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘It’s not easy, but it’s alright. I can handle mentions of drinking,’ Alastair said.

He hated how some people who knew about his diagnosis had started to walk on eggshells around him, like he was a bomb that would explode the moment someone said something wrong. It made him feel like he was fragile, broken, like there was something horribly wrong with him, when Alastair desperately tried to convince himself that wasn’t true. Deep down, he knew it was true though. He knew there was something wrong with him and that he wasn’t normal and would never be.

‘You don’t have to,’ Thomas said. ‘Look, I don’t think you want to talk about it and you don’t have to. But if you want to talk… I’m here for you, alright? I can promise I am a good listener.’

Alastair nodded. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you,’ he said in an attempt to deflect.

Alastair took a sip out of the flask of water he’d taken to carrying with him. Ever since starting paroxetine, he often had a dry mouth. He’d also gained some weight. Risa in particular was very happy with that development. Before starting his medication he’d been underweight, often unable to eat because of his nerves. Aunt Risa had worried about his weight loss, and had been very happy when he had started eating again and gotten back at a normal weight.

Apart from that no side effects, and Alastair was mostly glad his medication didn’t cause any sexual dysfunction because he’d heard that happened sometimes. Even if he didn’t have a boyfriend now, he guessed he wanted one someday. He tried to ignore the voice in his head, reminding him that no one would want to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t worth the effort. Charles had often told him he was difficult to love, that other people wouldn’t bother, and Alastair had believed him. Part of him still did.

The effect taking antidepressants had was only partial, paroxetine on its own wasn’t enough to treat PTSD, but when it came to this specific disorder it was the most effective out of all antidepressants. Alastair had agreed to give it a try. Two months in, it was definitely better than nothing and he had more good days, but he hoped the EMDR treatment he would be starting after the summer was more effective.

‘It’s something that happened yesterday,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can trust me to keep your secret,’ Alastair promised. ‘But you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

‘You know your cousin Jem used to fight the evil creatures of the supernatural, right?’ Thomas asked. ‘And your father too, before…’

Before he’d started drinking. People who knew about his father’s past as a hero sometimes said it was the price he’d had to pay, for seeing so many horrors and fighting for so long. Alastair hated it, it made him want to scream. What about the price I had to pay?

It was what had set him off when Jem had come over for dinner, not aware that anything was wrong with him. His cousin had talked about the struggles of life as a hero, the effects it could have on someone. Later, Alastair had learned his mother had become so desperate she’d confessed Elias’ addiction to Jem and had asked him if he could convince him to seek treatment.

Jem had agreed, and had used Elias’ past heroism as a gentle way to bring up the problem, but Alastair had felt as if Jem was trying to justify his father’s addiction and by extension what he’d put his family through. He’d screamed at Jem, at his father, at everyone present really. What about the people surrounding such a person? What about the people who were hurt when a hero’s burden became too much, did they not matter? Horrified at his own outburst, Alastair had ran to his room and attempted to calm himself by putting on Metallica and turning up the volume until he could block everything else out. When Jem had come upstairs, Alastair had expected him to be angry. Instead, Jem had been worried. It was the first time someone had realized his moodiness wasn’t just a “turbulent adolescence”, as his parents had long thought.

‘Yes,’ Alastair said. ‘When I was younger, my father would tell me stories about the creatures he’d fought and defeated.’

Once he’d loved listening to his father’s stories. Once he had sat down in his father’s lap and asked him to tell him about the incubus in Greece, or the kelpie in Scotland. Now he only wondered if his father had been drinking already back then. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten out of hand.

‘Well, I can see them. What I mean is, I have gift that makes it so I can see anything without having to learn at all. My mother and my oldest sister Barbara have the same gift.’

Alastair nodded. ‘So does my aunt Risa,’ he said. ‘She taught me and Cordelia how to see.’

There had been times in his life where he’d felt like Risa was the only person who cared about him. He hadn’t dared tell her about his father’s alcoholism, desperate to keep his family together and in one piece, but she’d been there when he needed her. No one else had done that for him. She used to take him to see the gnomes play in parks, since she didn’t have a garden of her own. She used to cook and bake in her kitchen with him. Risa was a cook in a local Iranian restaurant and had taught him everything she knew about making good food.

‘Yesterday, I walked into the woods and I encountered the washing woman. They say seeing her is an omen of death, although in my case it could just be that she didn’t intend for me to see her, but with my gift I see her anyway.’

‘I’ve heard of such creatures,’ Alastair said. ‘You must not approach or they might attack and paralyze your legs. But if you can sneak up on them, they are said to grant a wish.’

Alastair thought not so long ago he would have given it a try if he’d seen such a woman. He might have asked her to fix his family, or at least fix his father’s alcoholism. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure what he’d ask for. Fixing his father’s alcoholism wouldn’t cure his PTSD, it wouldn’t allow him to love or trust his father again, wouldn’t erase the past years. Perhaps he would ask for a cure for his PTSD, but he didn’t think such a thing existed, he wasn’t sure what exactly the result of such a wish would be. Nor did he know who his father would be without his addiction. He did not think his father would love him sober either. The best he could hope for was that EMDR treatment would help him.

‘Well, I ran,’ Thomas said. ‘But not before it called out to me. Warning me about some unpaid debt from my grandfather who made all sorts of deals with dangerous creatures.’

Alastair had heard plenty of stories like that from his father. There were all kinds of creatures that generally left humanity alone, but could trick people into making deals with them. It usually ended badly, and sometimes required intervention.

Alastair tried to think, was Thomas in danger? He’d always known about the supernatural, of course, but preferred to stay away from it. Cordelia was the one who had been given their father’s magical sword, and although Alastair hated the idea of her living the kind of life Father used to live, it suited her more than it suited Alastair.

‘From what I learnt, deals with supernatural entities often go wrong,’ Alastair said. ‘Is your grandfather still alive?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I never knew him. Apparently he turned into a giant worm and uncle Will, uncle Jem and uncle Gabriel had to kill him. My parents are trying to look into it a bit more, but it’s difficult since my aunt has all his journals, his possessions, and isn’t willing to share. According to my father, his mother died as a result of his dealings, and my cousin Jesse might have too.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to think. He had heard some vague stories of the Lightwoods and Herondales who used to fight dangerous creatures, but had no idea a relative had made such deals. Of course, he didn’t think his father had been involved in this. His cousin Jem had carried cortana for one of two years before retiring and giving it back to Elias.

‘I think something might be after me,’ Thomas added. ‘I was often sick as a child, and so was Jesse. No one could figure out what was wrong with me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t remember you being sick often when we went to the same school. You were always there, trailing behind me, I would have noticed if you were absent often.’

‘I grew over my sickness when I was almost fourteen, we met soon after that,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of took it for granted, since no one could tell me what was wrong with me I figured it was normal I’d grow over it eventually. But I got better around the same time Jesse died, and then my aunt Tatiana, Jesse’s mother, came by our house and yelled at my parents that it should have been me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘And you think that means that your cousin dying had to do with your grandfather’s debt?’

‘My aunt believed it, at least.’

‘But what does that have to do with you getting better?’ Alastair asked, not sure if he could make sense of that theory.

‘Well, both Jesse and I were sick. I didn’t know him well, Tatiana kept him away from us, but he did know Lucie and she told me his symptoms were almost exactly the same as mine.’

‘And it’s not a genetic disorder?’ Alastair asked.

‘No one else in the family was sick, just me and Jesse,’ Thomas continued. ‘I got tested for pretty much everything they could think of, all negative. They couldn’t find out what was wrong with Jesse either. My grandmother already died as payment for what my grandfather did. So it’s not that farfetched that Benedict owed them a grandchild or something and they had to choose between me and Jesse. Except Jesse’s death wasn’t enough, and now some creature came to warn me I’m next.’ Thomas looked resigned. ‘I think I’m going to die.’

Alastair took Thomas’ hand, hoping that would not be too forward. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he said. ‘I have never heard of debts being passed on to next generations, or going on for so long. From what I’ve been told, it usually ends when the person who made the deal dies.’

‘Not in this case,’ Thomas said. ‘Jesse got lost in the woods where he lived and died. People searched, but no one could find him until he was already dead.’

Alastair could tell Thomas was getting more and more anxious and Alastair wasn’t sure how to help him. He couldn’t say for sure that was Thomas was saying was wrong, even if he still tried to think of more mundane explanations for what was happening.

‘But getting lost in the woods is not supernatural, is it? If we strayed off the path here, it could be a while until we found our way out.’

‘Yes, but the woods where he got lost weren’t big like here. Realistically, they should have found him much sooner. That’s weird, unless there was magic involved. It wasn’t particularly cold either, it happened during spring.’

Alastair had to admit that was odd. Not all forests were big enough to get lost in and die. Even here, he suspected if they didn’t make it back, people would raise alarm soon enough and find them long before they could die of natural causes. Of course, their chances of surviving a couple of days might be better than those of a twelve year old boy.

‘Could the entity that claimed Jesse’s life have picked him over you because you have the sight?’ Alastair speculated. ‘That’s something you inherited from your mother, isn’t it? Jesse didn’t have that.’

‘It is,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘No one in my father’s family has it. It feels kind of awful, doesn’t it? That I lived and got better because Jesse died?’

‘That’s just speculation,’ Alastair said sharply. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over things we can’t prove. But there is something we could do to gather more information.’

‘Beyond convincing my aunt to give us those journals?’ Thomas asked.

‘So, I haven’t done this with someone else in a very long time. Perhaps it’s best I show you.’

Alastair chose a neutral memory. He had considered a happy one, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable sharing any of that with Thomas, not yet. Besides, he didn’t have many happy memories. It had to be nice, with his ability, to have infinite happy memories he could revisit at any time. Instead, Alastair mainly got caught in the bad ones. He picked a memory from a lecture on the history of socialism. Alastair remembered being horrified at some of the comments other students had made, only later had he realized Charles probably agreed with them. But that wasn’t the point right now. Instead, he showed Thomas a bit of the start of the lecture. The professor was animated, talking about the subject like it was the most interesting thing ever.

‘Was this at university?’ Thomas asked when they were back in the woods. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I showed you a memory of mine. Not a particularly interesting one, but it gets the point across. I can revisit any of my memories.’

‘That must make it easy to study for exams,’ Thomas said, but it wasn’t accusatory. Alastair sometimes felt like using his ability was cheating, but what was the point of having a magic memory if you didn’t even use it?

‘I do need to remember where the information I need is. So if I don’t remember the answer to an exam question, but do remember which lecture it was discussed, or which book, I can go back there. Fortunately, I am also good at studying and usually know where to look.’

Alastair had a whole library inside his head. At home, he kept a list of every book he ever read to organize it.

‘But how will that help?’ Thomas asked. ‘Is there anything you remember?’

Alastair’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘No, not related to what’s happening to you. But you have your memories. Perhaps your parents remember things, details they didn’t think were important at the time. I can help you rewatch your own memories, help you recall things you might have forgotten. It is something that I do not usually do, as it feels rather invasive. But if it helps save your life, I’m willing to give it a try.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, of course. You can look in my memories all you like if that’ll save me.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fanfiction #fic #the last hours #tlh #tsc

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 2

This chapter runs a little long so I'm sorry about that, but it's all essential I promise!

Also, I want to thank (again) those who messaged me like two months ago to give me insight on maternal instincts and emotions. You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of you who'd reached out to help. This is the final result of that, and I sincerely hope I brought justice to your advice! <3

chapter index

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“Sota.” God, she seemed so crushed, so unstable. To him, somehow, seeing her this way always made her appear so small and fragile, and it was on one hand that he could count the amount of times he’d actually seen her like this. Her head was hanging and she wasn’t making eye contact. Like, she felt shame on top of her anguish.

“Kagome, climb. I’ll be right behind you.” He promised as reassuringly as possible.

Finally, she moved. Kagome pulled her sleeve over her wounded palm and then grabbed the ladder, her shaking fingers gripping tighter than normal to prevent her from incidentally falling with her current, unsteady state. She went as fast as she could to get to the top, ignoring the adrenaline-dulled sting on her left hand until she reached the sturdy, wooden flooring of the treehouse, and crawled inside. Sota was quick to follow her up as soon as he was clear, always faster than she’d been up the damned thing.

He was cautious as he approached, watching her as she stared at the ground she sat on between her parted thighs. Kagome’s back was against the wall, but her shoulders were slumped forward, defeated.

“I’m fine now.” She softly mentioned. “You don’t have to worry.”

“You don’t have to lie.” Sota returned.

“I’m just a in a bit of shock is all.”

“It’s not your fault.” He said after a brief moment of silence. Kagome hung her head a little lower. “It’s not, Kagome. You can’t control everything, especially what you don’t know. You can’t hold yourself responsible for another conjurer getting killed.”

“Sota, stop. Please.” Kagome was beginning to cry, he could hear the wetness as she spoke, though she continued to hide her face and hold her breath.

“You put too much on your own shoulders, sometimes. It’s not right.”

“I didn’t choose this.” She whispered tremblingly.

“No, you didn’t. So, you’re allowed to not know what’s going on, and you’re allowed to not know how to fix things, and you’re allowed to make mistakes, and you’re allowed to not be the hero. That doesn’t make you a villain, though. And, it doesn’t put you at fault.”

Kagome broke then, sobbing as she folded forward, her arms clutching over her chest to hold herself securely. Slowly, Sota scooted himself closer, gently unfurling his older sister just enough to have her rest against him, her head on his shoulder while he held her and provided warmth. She cried so hard she coughed, shook, and nearly hyperventilated, but Sota did as their parents had done with them when they cried. He stayed still, didn’t budge, rubbed the length of her back with his fingers, and waited patiently for the stress to filter out of her system.

“You know,” Kagome spoke between trembling breaths that rocked her chest, a lingering affect from the hard cry. “I think we’ve got the roles reversed here.”

“What do you mean?” Sota asked.

“I’m the big sibling. I’m the one that’s supposed to be comforting you.” She lightly giggled, shaking her head and sitting upright as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

“You’re also the crybaby of the two of us.” Sota shrugged.

“Says the sissy.”

“You call it being a sissy, I call it not getting my butt kicked in the middle of town.” He teased. “Those are also referred to as, survival skills.”

Kagome chuckled, her throat cursing her for the slight aggravation even that had caused, but she ignored it. It wasn’t all that bad. Not in comparison to the headache she was now sporting. Feeling a little crusty on her face, she took her sleeve and wiped again, noticing a good helping of dirt come off on her shirt.

“Oh, god.” She groaned, continuing the motion to clean off her face of what she knew were the remnants of somewhat-dried mud. “How bad do I look right now?”

Sota frowned slightly, shaking his head. “I don’t feel like you want the answer to that.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Awful.”

“Nice.” She shrugged her brows, giving up on any further attempt at cleaning her face. She could feel the filth on her clothes, in her hair, on her forehead. It was taking extreme effort not to look at her stained sleeves and her soiled hands. At this point, she didn’t even feel the cut on her palm anymore, completely muted by everything else.

“I can’t -“ The serious expression was back on her face, brown eyes drifting to the far, low wall as she receded back into her guilt-riddled mind. “I can’t believe that I ever thought that just by being present, I would be able to prevent another’s death when all I did was stand there.”

“What are you talking about? You were never prepared for something like this.” Sota countered.

“No. I guess I wasn’t, was I? I always thought if someone was falsely accused, I would immediately stop it. But, there was actually another conjurer all along. I had no idea. And, I just - it happened so fast.”

She noticed her little brother flinch minutely, his own eyes falling to the floorboards they sat on. It must have been so hard for him to watch, too. It was terrible, and he had to witness it all from the sidelines, no doubt holding their mom back while watching his sister get yanked away by the hair and thrown against the wall, only making matters worse. Knowing him, he was probably holding his breath the whole time, hoping she wasn’t found out as a conjurer, herself. And yet, here he was comforting her because he knew she was scared. He must have been terrified.

Reaching over with her non-wounded hand, Kagome softly ruffled his dark hair, waiting until his attention wandered up to her.

“Sorry.” She whispered.

“It’s okay.” Sota shrugged. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I - I just had to try something. You understand, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t really be Kagome if you didn’t.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re kind of notorious for never minding your business and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’re also a little reckless, extremely impulsive, and have a bad habit of not thinking of the consequences of your actions until after you’ve already done the thing.”

Kagome’s mouth hung agape, taken aback by her apparent reputation. “Hey.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

The thing was, she couldn’t. She knew these details about herself, it was just a hard pill to swallow when it was all bundled into one. So, she huffed in defeat instead, nudging his head away.

“Just, next time, can you fight back? At least a little?” Sota asked, chuckling. “How are you supposed to help bring Naraku down if you can’t even manage to throw a punch?”

“Why are you harping on me so much? Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

“Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean you get my support by default.”

“That’s exactly what I’m supposed to get.” Kagome argued.

“It’s kind of embarrassing actually. The name, ‘conjurer,’ alone, is intimidating, but on you it’s like -“

“Finish that sentence and I will flatten you.” She threatened.

“How?” Sota laughed. “That’s that problem, sis! You can’t fight! Your power move is your backtalk, and you can’t even speak without your voice cracking right now, so what the hell are you gonna do?”

Without missing a beat, Kagome shoved the heel of her palm into the center of Sota’s forehead. It wasn’t strong enough to push him back or hurt him by any means, but it was definitely the perfect amount of force to shock her brother and shut him up, the pre-teen now too busy laughing and rubbing the spot of his head she’d just offended.

“Punk ass.” She huffed.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I was just kidding!” Sota smiled, the expression slowly fading to one of interest. “So, mind if I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Kagome couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of the question on his tongue, given he was just teasing. She could tell, though, with the change in tone and the look in his brown eyes, that his curiosity had been curbed for long enough now.

“How’d you do it? The test, I mean. How’d you manage to hide that you were a conjurer?”

“I hide it every time.” She reminded him, kind of dismissively.

“Yeah, but no other time was like this? They narrowed the age group, and I don’t think they’ve ever strategized to this degree. It was like a foolproof plan; they seemed so confident. I mean, they even got…” He stopped there, unable to finish that sentence. “I just don’t really understand what happened.”

Kagome sighed, giving in what she felt was too easily but also justified, crossing her legs to sit a little more comfortably as she braced her elbows on her thighs. It’d been a secret for a while, and though she’d hoped it’d stay that way for a while more, she wasn’t about to attempt to lie to Sota when he would not only be able to see right through her, but also deserved the truth. “They were going for our receptors to stress. They typically do that every time, except not to this extreme. By cutting us, with our fight-or-flight response already revving, the pain and undeniable evidence of physical danger is kind of like a kick to our adrenaline levels. Throw in their darkness against our natural instinct for light, and you’ve got yourself a mess. To be honest, I don’t know the exact science behind it; this is just the only explanation that makes sense to me. So, when I saw them go about it with the first girl and figured out exactly what they were trying to do, I knew how to counter.”

“Wait, what? How?” Sota asked, almost more confused than before.

“I’ve - um - I’ve been practicing.”

“Practicing what, exactly? What’s there to practice?”

“A multitude of things.” Kagome stated. “Like, sensing demons, how much power is necessary to kill one, how to purify, how much is too much and how much is too little - because situations vary, how to channel my power into my arrows, and in this case, how not to react at all.”

Sota’s lips slowly parted in slight awe. “You can do all that?”

“Sort of.” She replied, giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I struggle with a few things still, but I’m not helpless.”

“Who were you training with? You know someone who can help?”

“No, not necessarily.” She shook her head. “It’s just been Miroku, Sango, and I.”

“What?” Sota’s brows furrowed considerably, appearing upset as he processed her admittance. “You guys were - since when!? You guys have been training and I was never a part of it!?”

Kagome sighed, head falling back for a split second in exasperation as she received the exact reaction she’d been expecting. “Sota, I’m sorry, okay? We couldn’t get you involved, though.”

“Why the hell not!? You know how badly I want to learn how to use a sword, and I never got to train with papa and uncle like you guys did!”

“Because, we’re doing this for a reason. It’s not just to keep up with what papa was teaching me, it’s to get way better than I was ever expected to become. Papa was teaching me basic skills, and yes, he really helped ground me when it came to channeling my spiritual power into my arrows as I shot them, but that was it. I wanted - no, needed - to get better, and develop my conjurer abilities for the sake of myself, you guys, and everything happening around us. Would you rather me be defenseless?”

“No, of course not, but -“

“Then, okay!” She cut him off. “Now I’m not. You weren’t included because we didn’t want you to know, Sota. We didn’t want anyone to know. Mama doesn’t know, Sango’s dad doesn’t know, no one knows.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Kagome! This isn’t fair!” He argued, cheeks hued with an angry pink.

“You want to talk to me about unfair!?” Kagome shouted, her own face growing hot with frustration. “You don’t know the half of it!”

“Hey, you’ve at least got some powers to work with! Throw in your bow and arrow, and you’re set! I don’t have crap! Papa died before I was old enough to learn a damn thing, and Sango’s dad’s too much of a stickler to train boys younger than fifteen!”

“First of all, watch your language! You’re still a kid!” He huffed at her stern tone, and she could literally see the annoyed rebuttal on his lips, so she continued before giving him the chance. “Second, I like how one minute you pity me for my powers, and now all of a sudden I’m lucky to have them because you somehow think you’ve gotten the short end of the stick!? Pick a side, you selfish brat! You should enjoy the fact that you don’t need to know how to use a weapon, Sota!”

“You had your first lesson when you were eight!”

“Is this about me, or is this about papa?”

“It’s about the fact that I feel useless!”

“You don’t need to know how to fight to be useful!”

“I might have been able to save you today if I did!”

Oh. Oh.

Kagome took a moment to compose herself, exhaling heat from her tightly-clenched throat as she re-evaluated her younger brother’s reasoning for being so mad. She’s known how badly he’s wanted to learn how to fight, and she’s known that he would resent her for multiple reasons when and if he found out the three of them had kept up the training their fathers had started them on. As much as she would have enjoyed including him, it was for his own safety that she hadn’t. They were doing something dangerous, and truthfully, it was only in preparation of something even more dangerous. Sota didn’t need to be involved in that mess. He deserved to be free of that stress and responsibility. She’d even said Miroku and Sango shouldn’t be involved, but that easily went ignored as if she’d never brought up the argument in the first place. Her cousin and she were incredibly close, he was as protective of her as an older brother would be, and Sango was, admittedly, the biggest help of all, being the most skilled in combat, demon knowledge, and with weapons. Without them, their patience, their observations and constructive criticism of how she could better her techniques, and even their willingness to learn alongside her and offer suggestions, she most likely wouldn’t have gotten this far. Not on her own.

She felt like a total ass for calling Sota a selfish brat. She’d assumed his point of view was more superficial, when all he really wanted to do was contribute. All he wanted to do was help her when she’d gone and gotten herself into trouble. She knew better than anyone how entrapping it was to feel so helpless in dire situations.

He wasn’t looking at her anymore. Sota was defiantly staring at the wall behind her, his arms crossed over his chest to silently communicate that he was peeved. Which wasn’t at all necessary. She got the point.

“Alright, I’m with you.” Kagome tried. “I understand where you’re coming from now.”

Sota looked further away.

“I was only trying to keep you safe by excluding you.”

Still no response. Knowing she was clear to make an aggravated expression, Kagome slowly and dramatically rolled her eyes, leaning away so her back and head rested against the wooden wall.

“I don’t think you’re a selfish brat.”

“I don’t really care whether you do or don’t.” He finally spoke, but his attention remained diverted. “You always try to dismiss me by calling me names, and it’s just your way of neglecting to see my side of things.”

Big words for a twelve year-old, Kagome had to admit. And, as much as she wanted to fight him on his statement, to deny his half-true accusation, she bit her tongue.

“You had your first lesson when you were eight.” Sota repeated, this time steadier. “I didn’t get that. I didn’t get that time with papa, the skill training, the confidence, the knowledge, none of it. By the time you were my age, you had something to work with. You weren’t really supposed to use your power, and the training papa gave you was more to manage it than anything, I get that. But, even if you take that away, you could still shoot straight. I don’t even know the right way to hold a sword. I don’t know the first thing about a blade. I don’t have the slightest idea how to pull an arrow through a bow and make sure my shot counts. You know what I know how to do? Stand back, stay quiet, and hold mom’s hand.” He finally looked at his sister, his brown eyes, a degree lighter than hers, deep with animosity. “You don’t know the first thing about what I felt today, and you want to call me selfish? You promised not to do anything stupid, and you ran out blindly, started talking about Kikyo like it was a casual topic, and got manhandled by a demon three times the size as you. As if it wasn’t traumatizing enough to watch a girl get murdered just a few feet away from me, I almost had to watch the same happen to my own sister within the same timeframe. You talk about feeling horrible for just standing there and watching a stranger get killed, well think about having to stand there while your family is the one being threatened. I understand that you didn’t ask for the circumstances that you have no choice but to deal with, but we’re riding the waves alongside you, sis, and just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean I don’t deserve some consideration.”

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Kagome softly said. “My intentions for keeping you out of it weren’t to belittle or disregard you by any means, Sota. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as I need to: I only wanted to keep you safe. You’re my little brother. That’s my job. And, what I’m doing is dangerous. And, crazy. But, it’s something I have to do. You don’t. So, that’s why I never wanted you mixed up in it. Yes, you’re involved in the mayhem of these inspections, and I can understand how it’s frustrating to feel so powerless, but I’m going to be honest with you, no matter how much experience you have, that’ll never change. Even the demon slayers can’t stop them; you’ve heard what Sango’s dad has said. Miroku can fight, but you watched him take a beating, too. He got it worse than I did, all because he was trying to stop them from hurting me. What would have happened to you?” Kagome shook her head as the idea of her younger sibling getting kicked in the side and pummeled into the wet dirt filtered through her mind. She blinked her eyes shut as if to block the images from coming again. “No. Sota, I can’t have you getting hurt like that. I’m sorry that you feel it’s unfair that you don’t know how to protect yourself, but that’s just the way things have to be for now.”

Sota had calmed some, she could see it in his face. He was never really the kind to stay mad. Not for long, at least. Sota was the sort who got it out of his system in one swing, and was level-headed enough to see another’s point of view thereafter. He took after their mom. Kagome, on the other hand, constantly had her temper pointed out to her. She was definitely more passionate, more dramatic, more hot-headed, and held the thrown for sass in their family. She was her father’s daughter.

Kagome scooted an inch or two closer to her little brother, nudging his arm. “You aren’t useless. A weapon doesn’t define your worth.”

“Easy for you to say. You can fight. Apparently, better than I thought you could.”

“I mean, just look at what you did for me today. Look at what you did for mama. You’re so patient and kind, and you brought me all the way here as quick as you could so I could cry in private. And, I’m positive you did your best to keep mama as calm as possible. You think the act of holding someone’s hand through something difficult is simple, but it’s not. It’s grounding and supportive. Sota, that’s a lot to offer. Not everyone has the heart that you do.”

“You’re corny.” He murmured, leaning against her shoulder.

“Alright, I’m done being nice to you.” Kagome dully remarked, her attitude quickly shifting, though she was unable to fight her own, small grin. Neither of them moved away, and she allowed him to rest against her, thankful that he didn’t mind the mud she was covered in. It was a little late to think about it, anyway; he’d held her earlier, which got some on his own clothing.

The silence between them was comfortable. The thunder was oddly soothing. Her mind was relaxing finally, her nerves returning to their normal state. What once was cushioned with epinephrine and numbness was now beginning to ache and burn. Still, she made no move to head home just yet. Kagome was in no rush to go back to reality.

“You said this was something you have to do. Training.” Sota mentioned, his voice somewhat hushed. “Why?”

Kagome didn’t answer; not immediately.

“Why, Kagome?”

“You know why. I can’t be expected to help fight against Naraku if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Wait, but you’re -“

Kagome nodded.

“So, you’re really gonna fight?” Sota breathed.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

She didn’t answer, which was basically all the answer he needed.

“Kagome, are you about to do something insane?”

“I - I am.” She confirmed.

Sota sat upright, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. He took a moment, waiting to see if she would explain herself, but as her plush lips remained closed, and her stare held steadfast, he read what was on her mind. He’d been in the room during her countless retellings of this phantom Kikyo telling her the responsibility was theirs. He knew there was a possibility that Kagome would take that to heart. He knew that she wanted to help defeat Naraku. That all entailed the same result. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Kagome took in a slow, deep inhale, nodding as she exhaled. “Yes.”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of it?”

“No.”

He sighed, hanging his head for a moment in a defeat that came much easier than she would have ever predicted. “So, when do you guys go?”

“It’s actually just me.” Kagome admitted, sitting up to match his body language. The ache in her hand was growing, so she unconsciously switched back and forth between twiddling her fingers and clenching her fist to distract herself from the cut that no longer bled. “I know I said the three of us were training for a reason, but Miroku’s hurt. And, Sango’s not going to want to leave Kohaku on his own. She’ll want to wait until her dad gets back. So, I’m leaving tonight. On my own.”

Just as she finished her sentence, a huge rumble of thunder roared overhead, shaking the little treehouse they resided in. Sota’s attention shot out the door by instinct, drifting back to her as the noise died down. “Of course, you are. At least wait out the storm, will you?”

“Alright, yeah.” Kagome scrunched her nose slightly. “I’ll wait it out as long as I can.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I’ll come back.”

“You promise?” Sota held out his pinky to her.

She couldn’t help the warmth that flooded over her, a small smile curving at her lips as she stared at his finger. Finally, she took it with her own. “I promise. In return, you have to promise not to tell anyone. You’re the only person who knows I’m going. Keep it that way.”

“Gonna be hard to keep it a secret if you’re literally missing, sis.” He mentioned.

“I meant, until morning.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell them until I’m gone.”

“Deal.” Sota begrudgingly obliged, pulling his pinky free. “Come on. We should get back before it starts raining again. Mom’s probably doing that thing where she’s going crazy with worry so she’s smothering Miroku. By the way, he’s gonna kick your ass when he finds out.”

“Language.” Kagome tiredly reminded him, following him over to the edge.

“What are you gonna do? Fight me?” He jokingly mocked, beginning his climb down the rope ladder. Once he was far enough away, knowing she couldn’t do anything to him even if she wanted to, he continued his mindless taunting. “I don’t care what you say, or how much training you swear you’ve done, I still watched you get your shit rocked today.”

“I’m gonna spit on you, you freaking dweeb.” Kagome threatened, inching over the siding of the floorboards as she watched him sway slightly on the rope to hurry down. He knew she was serious, and she liked seeing the panic on his face.

When his feet met the ground, Kagome positioned herself for her own climb down, having to be more careful than before with her hand. She figured, in fact, that climbing up the way she had didn’t help her situation any. She may not have felt it in the moment, but it was easy to tell now that the gash was swollen and highly irritated. Kagome had to move slow, hooking her left forearm through the rope instead of grasping it with her fist.

“Don’t fall, okay? Be careful. I’m right here to catch you.” Sota assured from below. Kagome appreciated the protective offer, but she knew damn well that Sota would be more of a cushion to break the fall since he lacked the muscle - and size - necessary to prevent it.

“You know, your mood swings give me whiplash.” She said through stressed breath. “One minute you’re nice, the next you’re teasing me, the next you’re nice, and the next you’re yelling at me.”

“Yeah, and you’re mood swings give me a migraine. So, I guess we’re even.” Sota countered. It was actually a fair response that Kagome couldn’t even argue against, instead bobbing her head back and forth in agreement.

Her boots reached for the ground, and she felt Sota’s hands instinctually grasp her low back as she gained her footing. As a silent thank you, she ruffled her brother’s hair, notching her head in the direction of their home.

“Will you teach me how to use a sword when you get back?” Sota asked, walking beside his sister. “At least the basics? Please?”

“I don’t know what ‘bow and arrow’ mean to you, Sota, but I’m crap with a sword.” She replied.

“But, you have a knife.”

“Hate to break it to you, but this is definitely a scenario where size does, in fact, matter.”

“What - wow.” He laughed.

“I can teach you how to shoot. Or, maybe I’ll be able to convince Sango to teach you how to use a sword. She’s awesome with one.”

“Miroku may be better off convincing her since his tongue is always down her throat.”

Kagome was the one to laugh that time, cringing slightly. “You’re probably right. Either way, this is only when I get back and if things have calmed down.”

“It’s you. You’re the most stubborn person I know. I know for a fact things will be better when you get back.” He said, approaching the front door of their home and stomping the mud off his boots.

“You do?” Kagome smiled, feeling encouraged.

“Well, yeah. You literally won’t have it any other way. I’m assuming if anyone tries to stop you, you’ll just claw their face off with your unyielding temper.” Sota replied, looking at her with a grin as he made a clawing gesture with his furled fingers.

Kagome deadpanned, entirely unsurprised by the last jab he served her. She raised her fist, quickly jerking it back in an empty threat to hit him, and he threw the door open to run inside.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re back.” Their mother breathed as soon as they’d appeared, rushing over to them from Miroku’s side on the couch.

“Sorry.” Sota spoke for the both of them, his serious demeanor returning. “We just needed a moment. I know it was a bad time to run off, but -“

“Sota, honey, don’t worry. I understand.” Their mom assured. “Are you two okay.”

“Yeah.” He answered, and their mother’s attention diverted to Kagome.

“Yeah.” Kagome echoed, giving a curt nod.

“Come here.” She walked over, her cold, gentle hands cradling Kagome’s jaw as she turned her face about to check for damage. Kagome knew it was fruitless, though. She was filthy. Still, she looked at her as if her vision could see through thick, dried dirt. Her hands glided down Kagome’s left arm and to her hand, inspecting the cut on her palm. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

“But, Miroku.” Kagome mentioned, peeking over her mom’s shoulder at him. He laid on the couch, his arm planted over his eyes with a light blanket covering most of his body. He was shirtless, looked clean, and seemed almost comfortable, though she could see that a mass of deep red and purple had made home on his ribs.

“I’m on drugs. Leave me alone.” He grunted, not even peeking over at them.

“I gave him some herbs so he would be more comfortable.” Her mother smiled.

“The strong stuff?” Sota asked, taking a seat at their circular, dining table.

“The good shit.” Miroku said.

“Where’s Sango?” Kagome asked.

“Well, she wanted to take Kohaku home and get cleaned up, herself. I invited them to stay, especially for dinner, but you know Sango. She’s as independent as ever.”

“She’s fucking hot.” Miroku murmured.

Kagome cringed and groaned, eyeing her cousin. His perverted grin was unmistakable, even from behind his forearm. “You’re on drugs. Shut up.”

“Come on, dear. I just drew up a fresh bath; you’re timing couldn’t have been more perfect.” Her mom pulled her, guiding her to the bathroom where she shut the door behind them.

Carefully, her mother helped Kagome undress, peeling the muddy clothes off of her, overly cautious not to hurt her since she wasn’t sure what state her body was in. Kagome, knowing this provided a sense of comfort for her mom - caring for her in her vulnerable state - allowed her to do as she pleased, taking things just as slowly. Truthfully, her aching muscles, now more noticeable than ever, were as grateful for it as she was.

The water was hot as she sunk into the tub, plugging her nose and dunking her head entirely. She took the rag that was offered, gently cleaning off her face and body as her mom took to washing her hair.

“Mama, I’m sorry.” Kagome softly spoke through the silence.

“Shh.”

“I didn’t -“

“Shh.” Her mother hushed her again, gently massaging her scalp with her fingers. “All that matters to me is that you’re okay. Nothing else, Kagome.”

Kagome sighed, leaning back into her mom’s touch. “I am.”

She bundled up in a towel after drying off, her long, raven hair, though still dripping, beginning to wave as it fell over the front of her shoulders. Her mother once again gently tilted her head back and forth to inspect the damage, running her thumb over her cheek. When she extended Kagome’s neck, Kagome couldn’t help but wince slightly, the swallow she’d unintentionally done at that exact moment sliding down her swollen throat uncomfortably.

“We’re lucky he didn’t crush your trachea.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Kagome whispered with a wry grimace as her mom released her to look at her hand. Kagome tried to swallow her hiss, but couldn’t stop it from sliding off her tongue, her mouth hanging open as her mother stretched out her palm to observe it closely.

“Sorry.” She breathed sympathetically. “It looks irritated. Definitely inflamed. I’ve got the salve out on the table. Let’s get you dressed so I can clean and bandage it up.”

“Are you gonna have to amputate it, doc?”

“Unfortunately, that is a possibility.”

“What?” Kagome’s expression shifted to fearful shock, studying the red cut on her hand as her mother giggled.

“I’m kidding.”

“You said it with a straight face and everything.” She whined.

Her mother merely kept her smile, her fingers finding the ends of her daughter’s hair and running them through. During the silence, she couldn’t stop herself from traveling higher, twisting the waving locks, fixing her messy bangs, and then combing her now-trembling fingers all the way through the length of her hair again. She’d realized she was fidgeting in a sense, losing her composure, but the fight was no match. Her chin quivered and her bottom lip jutted out slightly as she pulled Kagome into a tight hug and pinched her eyes shut, trying everything she could to keep the terrifying image of her daughter in that little girl’s place at bay.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” Kagome gently asked, holding her in return.

“Nothing.” She lied, though she convincingly held her tone steadier than she felt.

Kagome could feel her fear, her anguish, and the relief that they were together right now. She could understand, much like Sota’s disturbance, how difficult it must have been for her mother to witness everything that had happened today. None of it was easy for anyone, so Kagome tightened her grip, sullenly resting her chin on her mom’s shoulder.

“Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so brave.” She finally caved, openly crying, shaking into her firming hold.

It only took that one sentence to bring Kagome to crumble, herself. Her expression twisted sadly and hot tears washed to her eyes, spilling over as she hid her face in her mom’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t always feel like I need to protect you from the world, Kagome. It sometimes feels like I need to protect you from yourself. How can I do that? You’re always ready to sacrifice yourself for others, always ready to fight battles that aren’t yours when your own is hard enough. I don’t know how to save you from this. Any of this.” Her mom sobbed. “I had no choice but to stand there and watch you get hurt, and I just… I can’t do that again, Kagome. I can’t - I won’t…”

“I’m sorry.” Kagome cried, voice faltering worse than ever.

“If I could take your place, I would in a heartbeat.”

Kagome fervently shook her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“I would.” She nodded, leaning back and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I would be able to protect you then. You’re my little girl. You’re good, and you’re pure, and you’re feisty, and you’re strong, and you’re brave, and you’re beautiful, and you’re resilient, and you’re kind, and the world has no business hating you.” She wiped her thumbs back and forth over Kagome’s cheeks, clearing the fresh tears that streamed down her face while her bottom lip quivered.

Kagome’s mother took a deep, unsteady breath, pulling her closer to place a sweet kiss on her forehead before looking into her glossy eyes again. “I know I can’t, though.” She whispered. “And, I will never ask you to be less than what you are. So long as you stay alive. Please.”

Kagome nodded, sniffling, hardly able to see her mother’s face through her tears. She could feel the heat building, and no amount of swallowing helped, a dense lump growing in her swollen throat and air clogging in her lungs as if she’d lost the ability to properly breathe. Her fingers quaked and her muscles felt weak, her legs slowly folding to bring Kagome’s pitiful figure to the ground. Her mom followed, shushing her, pulling her close and petting her hair to provide as much comfort as possible, but nothing helped pull Kagome out of it. She was lost to the darkness in her mind, the burning in her veins, the image of the young girl still on the ground, cold, bleeding engrained behind her eyelids for her to vividly see.

“I just - I just wanted to save her, mama.” She brokenly sobbed.

“I know, baby. I know, you did.”

“She deserved to live.”

Her mother rocked her back and forth as soothingly as possible, lulling her with a gentle shush as her daughter got the pain out of her system. It tore her apart to know her daughter’s innocence could never be spared. She felt nauseous just knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, or make it better, or heal her broken heart.

“I tried. I - I tried. I tried.” Kagome kept repeating, her brain on loop and unable to filter anymore words free. Like a broken record skipping, scratching, on its last leg before the music is shut off.

Kagome’s mother wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. Quite frankly, it was irrelevant. Her daughter was quiet now, resting her head on her thighs, her towel-draped body curled on the bathroom floor, eyes blinking drowsily as she zoned out. Every now and then, she’d see a tear escape from Kagome’s eye and glide over the bridge of her nose. Her own tears had stopped, her cheeks dry, lips tingling from the hum of the melody she continued to comfort her daughter with. She knew and accepted, as difficult as it may be, that there was no physically protecting Kagome from a thing. Not Naraku, not demons, not the world, not fate, and not herself. Kagome was a fighter, and Kagome was the light that made your day better. Kagome was an angel and a beast all in one. And, if all she could offer was her lap, her solace, her arms, and her song to bring her daughter some form of peace, then nothing in the universe could stop her from providing it.

“I am so proud of you, little bird.” She whispered, raking her fingers through Kagome’s almost-dry hair, thick and wavy and neatly pulled away from her face. “You always try to do the right thing, no matter what. Your bravery may scare me, but that’s only because I’m your mother. Your bravery also amazes me. You’ve grown from this little girl afraid of spiders to a woman still afraid of spiders that will challenge demons without so much as a second thought.”

Kagome gave a weak giggle, snuggling just a little closer to her mom. It wasn’t often that her mother used her father’s nickname for her, but when she did, it was one of the most comforting things that seemingly quieted the world around. The thunder didn’t even stand a chance. With the heavy droplets of rain spilling from the edging of their roof to splash in the puddles on the ground, the pitter-patter hitting above them to create a continuous white noise, Kagome was finally stabilizing and grounding down to actuality.

“Spiders are gross.” Kagome muttered.

“I agree.” Her mom giggled. “Eight legs is just excessive.”

Kagome groaned, muffling her laugh. “And, don’t even get me started on centipedes.”

“The worst of all multi-legged insects.”

Slowly, Kagome lifted herself off of her mom, smiling slightly as her mother continued to comb her dark locks from her face.

“Your bangs are getting a little long.” She mentioned. “Want me to spruce them up tonight?”

“Please?” Kagome asked, nodding.

She grinned, caressing her daughter’s soft cheek. “Let’s get your hand wrapped and some food in your belly first.”

Kagome finally picked herself off the floor, following her mother out of the bathroom and parting in the small hall where she insisted she was well enough to dress herself. As soon as she shut the door to her room, Kagome released a deep and dreadful sigh, resisting the loud groan that could have easily accompanied it as she braced her weight on the wood of her door. Her decision was easy to make in the moment, while she was pinned to a wall, angry, and horrified, but after watching her mother breakdown, she struggled with it now. Leaving everyone behind for an undetermined amount of time would be extremely difficult. Leaving her mama behind to hurt and worry was the worst feeling in the world.

Because, truth be told, despite the promise she’d made her younger brother, there was no telling if she’d actually succeed.

There was no telling what she’d encounter beyond her village’s limits.

There was no telling anything.

Kagome wasn’t naive. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew she had no idea what she was getting herself into, that there was no direct path to her objective, that there was no given timeframe to count on. Hell, she didn’t even know what Naraku looked like.

Overall, she knew that she knew nothing. Other than she had to try.

As heavy as the guilt weighed to upset her mother, her family, in this way, Kagome wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for not trying. It was like rolling over, belly up, surrendering to more deaths, more chaos, more abuse and oppression. It made her stomach churn and her heart race. It made her blood boil from the fire building up in her abdomen.

She wouldn’t say she didn’t care about what happened to herself, because that wasn’t true. There were plenty of reasons to tend to her well-being, and no matter how reckless she naturally was, she vowed then and there to be as careful as she could. Leaving didn’t mean she was going to parade her powers about, nor openly proclaim that she was a conjurer. She was bold, not stupid. She would be cautious, watch her step, mind her P’s and Q’s, but take no shit when it came down to it.

Fine line, thin line, grey area and all, this was the best Kagome could offer right now.

How was it possible to be so dead set and confident on a decision while second-guessing yourself? Kagome could feel these negative thoughts slithering through her mind, reminding her that she wasn’t as physically strong as Sango, and she wasn’t as clever as Miroku. Running aimlessly through a region of unknown was idiotic, and she would be lucky if she wasn’t killed within two days. The loudest voice of all told her that she would never be able to take down Naraku on her own. And, she was a fool to think otherwise.

Kagome took a deep, steady breath, sighing out even slower as she tried to ease those thoughts away. She busied herself, lighting the candle on her nightstand for some extra light and dressing in some comfortable pajamas.

“Is this what you want?” She quietly asked herself, staring at an empty bag she’d splayed on her bed. When she pictured herself putting the bag away, saying no, and walking out of the room, she felt wrong. It felt wrong. When she pictured herself packing it with some clothes and necessities that could only be saved for last minute, she felt terrified. But, it felt right. “Yes.”

So, she discreetly went about her room, collecting a few items of clothing to alternate through, especially undergarments, little things she may want along the way, like something to tie her hair back with, a brush, and the fresh box of matches in her drawer. Her bag had plenty of room leftover, which was planned, and she tucked it under her bed - next to which she placed a pair of dark pants, a green blouse, and her most comfortable, short bodice. As far as materials were concerned, Kagome was ready to go.

She stopped as her fingers gripped the handle of the door. Her decision, though right, was nerve wracking. She felt sick, scared, discouraged, and she wasn’t even on her way yet. The thoughts, the plaguing negativity, like a flashing, red light going off and distracting her from her objective, were what was deterring her strength. She needed to silence them, needed to sway them for good.

You aren’t as strong as Sango.

No. She wasn’t. That was a straight fact and there was no competition. Sango was a badass, came from a line of badasses, and lived by the motto, “kicking ass and taking names.” She was fast, though. Kagome was nimble and reacted almost as well as Sango would. She deserved credit in that area.

You aren’t as clever as Miroku.

That was only somewhat true. Miroku was sixty percent brains and forty percent brawn. Sure, he was smart. Kagome, on the other hand, was resourceful. Miroku was cunning, and Kagome was witty. Miroku could talk others into doing something, while Kagome could talk herself and others out of trouble. Together, they were a pretty good team, but they could still survive apart.

You’re going to get yourself killed. You don’t even know where you’re going.

If she was meant to do this, then she’d pull through. But, she’d rather die trying than accept life as it is. Kagome could figure this out. By no means did she believe any part of this would be easy, but she refused to believe it wasn’t possible.

You will never be able to take down Naraku on your own.

Kagome let that one sit for a moment. It wasn’t to let it eat at her, it was more to feel it out. Would she? Honestly, when she pictured it happening, the scene was a blur. Naraku was there, he just didn’t have a face or a body. Kagome could feel it though, the sensation overwhelming in her gut. She would, no doubt, meet Naraku at some point or another. The only thing was, peculiar as it may be, she wasn’t alone. Her intuition was showing her not just one, but a number of people at her side. All of them ready to end things with this horrible, wretched demon. It may be the conjurers, but something told Kagome to wait and see. So, she gripped the knob of her door a little tighter, a little more confident. The thought gradually became impertinent. She wasn’t worried about facing Naraku alone, because she wouldn’t be alone. From what she’d like to guess, to hope, far from it.

“Don’t touch it, Sota.” Kagome heard her mom say as she wandered out toward the living room.

“But, he said he couldn’t feel it.” Sota responded.

“For real, Auntie! I can’t feel a thing.” Miroku declared. “It’s like magic.”

“No, it’s like medicine. Eat your soup.”

“How much did you give him?” Kagome asked skeptically as she joined her family, side-eyeing her cousin as he smiled goofily from his spot on the couch. She was surprised to see him sitting up, and even more surprised from his apparent bleary state that he hadn’t dropped his bowl yet.

“Well, I might have given him a dash more than what’s recommended.” Her mother sheepishly replied, hiding her face as she scooped stew into a bowl with her ladle.

“A dash?”

“A pinch.”

“How much is a serving?”

“A - um - tablespoon?”

“Mama, why was that a question?”

“Mom, how much did you give him!?” Sota guffawed, leaning forward over one of the chairs at the table.

“Look, he doesn’t feel any pain, so as far as I’m concerned, I gave him enough.” She defended, cheeks a deep shade of pink.

Both Sota and Kagome failed at biting back their humor, doubling over from laughing so hard. She glanced at her cousin, her complacent, happy, clueless-looking cousin and sauntered his way.

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?” She sweetly asked, giggling.

“Pretty good.” He nodded, grinning wider. “Definitely can’t complain. This stew is delightful.”

Kagome bit her lip, bating her breath as she turned on her heel to look at her mom. “Mama, he said ‘delightful.’”

“Yes, I heard him.”

“To die for.” Miroku dramatically added.

Kagome resisted her knee-jerk reaction to take the loosely-gripped bowl from his one-handed grip, seeing he was clutching it just tight enough to keep it from spilling. She bit down on her bottom lip harder, trying as hard as she could not to laugh as Miroku took a long and loud slurp of food off of his spoon. Behind her, she heard her little brother snort into his arm, trying to stifle himself, too.

“How you feeling? A little high?” Kagome queried.

“High? No, I’m sitting.”

She lost it then, laughing so hard she wheezed, clutching her sides and folding over again.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” Kagome’s mother sighed as she set two bowls of soup on the table. “Yes, your cousin is heavily medicated but at least he’s comfortable. Now, come eat, please.”

“Hey, mom, can I have a pinch over a serving of whatever was on his menu?” Sota asked, taking his seat and gesturing to Miroku by pointing his thumb over his shoulder behind him.

“You may not.” She said, unamused.

“It’s for science.”

“Yeah? Tell me one scientific thing you know.” She tested, her level expression holding strong.

Sota froze, mouth hanging agape as he pondered, his brown eyes drifting away from his mother as he grew nervous. “Uh, rain - rain comes from clouds.”

“Mhm, good job. Eat your food.” She dismissed. She pulled out the chair next to Kagome as she sat at the table, bringing the disinfectant, salve, cotton balls, and bandage wrappings closer. Once Kagome got situated, swallowing what remained of her laughter and pulling her bowl of stew closer, she ushered for her left hand.

“It can wait, mama.” Kagome said. “You should eat, too.”

“I would feel much better knowing this was taken care of first.”

“Then, I’ll do it myself. You don’t have to worry.” She stated sincerely, but with the slightly sad slant of her mother’s eyes, she regretted the innocent suggestion immediately.

Who was Kagome to deny her mother a simple, tender, and loving act that would most likely, in turn, provide her with a sense of comfort? As much as Kagome didn’t want to think of the circumstances of their evening, or the happenings of their day, it played a significant role in the lack of glimmer in her mom’s eyes. She couldn’t prevent the harm that Kagome endured today, but she wanted to clean up the mess.

Steadily, Kagome turned her wrist palm-up and slid it over the wood of the table toward her mother. She let her do as she pleased, once more studying the inflamed wound while Kagome minded her own and blew on the spoonful of stew in front of her mouth. She was lucky that she hadn’t choked as she gasped at the same time she’d taken a bite, hearing the sizzle from the disinfectant while her mom continued to use a generous amount on her cut.

“I hope they don’t make this sort of inspection a habit.” Her mother grumbled.

Kagome kept her mouth shut, feeling like her mom was passed the sad and disturbed stages of the incident, and had transitioned to the angry phase. Her mom wasn’t the type to outright express her frustration. It was more visible in her body language and the deeper set tone she’d carry. She often busied herself with something, like cleaning or cooking, in an attempt to either distract herself or keep from coming off harsh in any manner. It was a classic way to dissipate her anxiety so she could come out of it calm and collected. Kagome figured tending to her hand was a two-birds-one-stone sort of deal.

She swallowed the stew on her tongue, allowing the heat from the meal to glide down her throat. It was slightly painful, but simultaneously soothing. She knew it wouldn’t be a comfort like hot liquid to a sore throat would be when you’re down with a cold, but it was still mildly satisfying to feel it go down. She avoided the large chunks of meat for the time being. She knew her mom would be happier if she ate everything in her bowl, but swallowing anything more than liquid right now just wasn’t appetizing.

Kagome peeked over at her little brother, not at all surprised to find him looking back. He held a wary look in his eyes, a brow slightly cocked, and she knew it was due to the way their mother had leaned her face just inches away from Kagome’s wound, little huffs of agitation coming from her nostrils as she paid close attention to clean every little centimeter of the surface. It wasn’t big by any means. Sure, it was larger than Sango’s, but her hand, itself, was relatively small as it was, and the gash went from the center toward the side. Maybe two inches at most, and angled crookedly. There was no way into their mother’s head, but Kagome was willing to bet she was being diligent for her own peace of mind as well as the fact that Kagome had not only gotten a good helping of mud in the cut, but also another’s blood. It was important to be thorough, and Kagome wasn’t about to complain. Not with the life of her palm in her mother’s hands.

Sota made a very subtle gesture at Kagome, one that wouldn’t catch their mom’s peripheral vision. He pointed in her direction then made the “OK” sign with his fingers, asking if she was alright. Kagome responded with a tiny nod, fighting back a wince when her mom tightly wrapped up her hand from the base of her fingers to her wrist after slathering it in ointment.

“Not too tight?” Her mom inquired, giving Kagome her hand back.

“Nope. It’s perfect. Thanks, mama.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but it’s bearable.”

“Okay, love.” She stood, kissing the top of Kagome’s head. “Eat as much as you can. At least some of the vegetables, please. I’ll make some tea. I want you all in bed soon.”

No one had an argument for her. Not even Sota. It was typical of him to want to stay up, but tonight, no matter what the time actually was, it felt exceptionally later. Again, Kagome found herself looking over at him, unsurprised to find him returning the stare. The end of their night also meant their goodbye. And, she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. How could she convince him that everything would be alright? How could she make him drop the obvious concern so the rest of their family wouldn’t notice and ask what was wrong? The only thing she could think to do to rest his anxiety was to smile. So, she did. Kagome gave her brother a small, reassuring grin, but all it worked to do was make his eyes fall away. Much like their mother, he busied himself to hide his emotions, bringing his bowl up to his face to drink the remainder of his broth.

The tea was like heaven, the hints of chamomile and honey the most comforting to her throat. The house had grown quiet, the tension from outside beginning to trickle in. Miroku rested his back against the arm of the couch, still seemingly pain-free. He’d only taken a couple of sips of his tea before closing his eyes and releasing an unsteady sigh, and Kagome wondered if there was a bit of discomfort he wasn’t showing, if the medicine was making him drowsy, if he couldn’t stomach anything more, or all of the above. Sota, Kagome, and their mother all continued to sit at the small table, embracing the silence. Much like she’d expected the moment the demons left their village, there wasn’t always going to be something that could be said. There wasn’t always going to be something that could make them forget, because there was no possible way to do that. What had happened - the terror, agony, heartbreak, and failure - it all was going to demand to be recognized.

The thunder had calmed momentarily, the rain still falling, though not quite as hard. And, as if the universe was working to solidly confirm that Kagome’s initial assumption was correct, a dreadful, broken, gut wrenching cry was heard from several homes over.

Kagome’s attention shot toward their door, her heart dropping into her pelvis. It was the mother of the conjurer grieving, releasing her sorrow, and Kagome could only imagine the horrible feeling of having to inhabit a house where her daughter could no longer dance around, and play, and laugh, and bring the joy a nine year-old girl naturally does.

She missed the thunder immediately. She missed her cousin’s natural instincts to lighten the mood with terribly-timed and inappropriate jokes. She missed yesterday when this misery had yet to exist.

“Oh, your bangs.” Kagome’s mom said, louder than her typically soft tone, as if to both busy herself and distract them all from listening to the crying. She decidedly spoke every word that came to mind, announcing her thoughts and letting them fumble off her tongue to keep her children’s attention as she stood from her seat and wandered about the room. “Now, where did I put those scissors? You know, when Miroku still trusted me to cut his hair, I thought it’d be a good idea to use a bowl to shape it. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. I pictured it coming out as this neatly-tousled look since his hair naturally holds some waves, but that was certainly not the case. Miroku, you remember this, right?” She paused for his answer, turning around from the little drawer she rummaged through to find her nephew giving her this distasteful grimace.

“Do you realize we almost went fifteen years without mentioning that?” He muttered.

“Oh, hush. It wasn’t that bad.” She dismissed with a meager wave of her hand, going back to shifting about as she sought out the scissors.

“You gave him a bowl cut!?” Sota chuckled. “No wonder he doesn’t trust you to cut his hair anymore.”

“No, no, that wasn’t the kicker. Tell them, Auntie. Tell them what you did to me.” Miroku grumbled. He was groggy, his body feeling stiff and heavy as he melted further into the couch, the medicine leaving his head and flowing through the muscles of his arms, torso, hips, and legs. But, he knew what his aunt was trying to do, and this was all he could offer to contribute to the conversation and keep words flowing to help drown out the crying that haunted their town.

“I - uh - oh! Here they are!” She said brightly, presenting the scissors. “I accidentally missed.”

“Missed?” Kagome asked.

“I missed.” Her mom nodded.

“She missed.” Miroku confirmed.

“What did you miss?” Sota asked skeptically.

“The hair - his hair. I missed - I missed his hair. Um, you know how I take the strands in between my fingers and trim the ends beneath? Well, instead of that, I went above. Above my fingers. By a lot.”

“Wh- how!?” Kagome pressed.

“I was a little distracted. And, apparently, your cousin knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Well, Auntie, how about I give your hair a trim and we call it even? No pun intended.”

“Hah! How about not.”

“What were you so distracted by?” Sota asked.

“Your father. He was - uh - talking to me.”

“He was shirtless, you heathen!” Miroku shouted, his voice cracking from the emphatics.

Kagome stifled her snort, her attention landing on her mother’s reddened face, who could only give an awkward grin. She started laughing at both the embarrassment on her mom's cheeks and the fact that something like that had ruined Miroku’s hair and trust.

“Oh my god, is that why you wore that hat for, like, two months straight!?” Kagome asked, her mouth hanging agape.

“She had to even it out the best she could while both of our dad’s laughed, and let me tell you, the style did not suit me.” Miroku replied.

“I thought it was cute.” His aunt shrugged.

“Well, you would. It was your handiwork.”

“It was more that your cheeks were so round, and your head was so big, so super short hair really helped make it pop.”

“Hey! I did not have a big head!”

“Yeah, you did.” Both Kagome and her mother chimed synchronously.

“Awe, man. No fair. I don’t remember any of that stuff.” Sota groaned.

“Sorry, Sota. I think that happened when Miroku was, what? Seven?” His mom said, unsure.

“Eight.” Miroku corrected.

“Right. So, Kagome would have been five or six, and you would have just been born.”

“Actually, I think you were still pregnant with the munchkin. Explains why you were so thirsty for -“

“Ah! Okay, no! I was not thirsty, first of all! Second, how are you still so inappropriate right now? Go to sleep! Kagome, let me see your bangs.” Her mother directed, clearly flustered and ending the subject there.

Kagome couldn’t help but back her seat away as her mama approached to sit beside her, the wooden chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “I’m gonna have to ask you to calm down first, thank you very much. Considering how easily distracted you’ve been proven to be, I’m not sure this is such a good idea with your current state.”

“Fine. Sota, would you do the honors?” Her mother sarcastically asked, sliding the scissors across the table.

“Gladly.” He grinned.

“Wait! No! Why would he do it!? Why would your first suggestion be to hand the scissors to him!?”

“Would you like me to trim your bangs?” Her mother cocked a brow, a slightly proud smile curving her lips.

“Yes, please.” Kagome grumbled in defeat, scooting her chair back to where it was and presenting the hair at the front of her brow.

“That’s what I thought.” Her mom giggled, taking the scissors back from her son and kissing Kagome’s forehead. “Sota, go hop in the bath, please. I want you clean and warm before bed.”

He nodded, rising from his seat, and as he went to walk by, she stopped him, pulled him down by his arms, and planted a sweet kiss to his head, as well.

Steadily, she spruced up Kagome’s bangs, even going so far as to shorten up the little layers she’d given her a while ago at the sides of her face to frame her jaw. Her daughter was serene beneath her touch, fully trusting, and she thanked the tea and the loudening rain for soothing Kagome’s nerves from what they were in the bathroom.

The crying from the mourning mother was, once again, drowned out for the most part. Now and again she could be heard, and quite frankly, she felt the mother should be heard. She should be heard all over the country, the world, and her cries should echo in the ears of the demons who had the gall to take her baby from her. Her wailing should be the only thing they’re sentenced to listen to for the rest of their days, and if they have ever done this to another, all those mothers should play over each other. Like an infinite ringing of misery for only the assailants to hear. She could imagine their prideful smiles at first, but like anybody else, they would eventually fall to their knees and beg for the agony to end.

They had the audacity to call humans selfish. Humans, at least, had hearts.

“There. All done.” She grinned, placing the scissors on the table and dusting the trimmings of dark hair from Kagome’s shirt. Gently, she cupped her daughter’s cheeks, staring into her big, brown eyes for a moment before leaning forward and kissing her forehead again. “Let’s get Miroku into bed.”

“Don’t worry about it, mama. I’ll get him. I can handle it.” Kagome said, turning around to glimpse at her resting cousin.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright. I’ll make him a little mixture that’ll help him sleep through the night. I’ll be in the room in a moment.”

Kagome stood from her seat, sauntering over to the couch were she softly rubbed her fingers over Miroku’s sternum. He didn’t move, so she tried again, whispering his name. When he didn’t rouse that time, she tapped his collarbone, knowing, for whatever reason, that he hated being touched there. Miroku cringed, like a shiver was running down his spine, and squished his shoulder up closer to his ear to stop the weird sensation.

“Hm?” He grumbled.

“Come on, time for bed.” Kagome continued to whisper.

“Why can’t you ever wake me up a normal way?” He asked as he very slowly began to sit up, his voice raspy.

“Because, I don’t want to.” She replied simply, noticing his slight flinch. “Are you in pain?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Too late.”

“It’s not that bad. It comes and goes because of the medicine.”

“All depending on your positioning, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, let me help.” Kagome extended her hand to him, and when he took it, she gripped it tight, pulling it closer to her chest for stability, and firmly grasped his elbow with her other. “Ready?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and holding it in as he pushed his legs to stand and she yanked him up the rest of the way. It was all he could do to swallow the gasp of pain his throat went to release by reaction, only allowing an airy hiss to glide from his lips. He wrapped his arm over Kagome’s shoulders once his feet got situated beneath him, knowing she could handle the weight he braced on her. His muscles just weren’t working with him - whether it be due to discomfort or just a lack of mobility. He blamed the medicine for the latter. He felt lightheaded as soon as he was vertical and had to really take a moment to shut his eyes and gain his bearings. His cousin was patient though, standing still, holding him up with only minor swaying, and waiting for him to initiate the walk forward.

With only a few stumbles here and there, Kagome managed to get Miroku into his and Sota’s shared room in one piece, slowly and carefully lowering him onto his bed at the far end. She helped him get situated beneath the covers, making sure he was comfortable as he allowed his body to sink into his mattress.

“Mama’s gonna come in with more medicine for you.” She said softly. “Bet you miss your high now, huh?”

“It was short-lived, I’ll admit.” He chuckled.

She giggled in return, taking a moment to find the matches and light a candle in the corner of the room for just a little extra light.

“Hey,” Miroku spoke. “Come here.”

“I wasn’t leaving yet.” She mentioned, shaking the fire of her match out, setting it in the trash, and walking back over to him. Cautiously, Kagome sat on the edge of the bed beside him, giving a meager smile.

“How are you?” He asked with sincerity, and it was clear he was referring to what had happened earlier that day.

“Don’t ask.” She said.

“Too late.” He bounced her own reply off of her.

Kagome couldn’t find it in her to give an answer to that question. She felt an immense amount of guilt for everything going through her head, for her decision to head out on her own, and especially for the beating he’d taken earlier. He was down for the count, while she was the one who’d gotten him into that trouble. Yet, she was perfectly fine, walking around, with only a soreness in and on her neck and a throbbing headache that would, no doubt, go away quicker than the ache in his ribs.

“Are they broken?” She asked, avoiding his own question.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so, but we gotta wait for the doc to determine whether they are or not.”

Kagome nodded in acknowledgment, bowing her head and eyes for a small moment before looking back into his dark blue irises. “I’m sorry.”

“I knew that was coming.” Miroku chuckled. “Shut up. You know I don’t blame you.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” She shakily replied.

“So, you were the one who kicked me repeatedly?”

Kagome winced at the visual.

“You were the one who ordered the demons to attack me?”

“Miroku -“

“You were the one -“

“I get it. No.” She interjected, stopping him from taking her mind back to the scene.

“But, it was because you ran out in the first place that the whole thing happened, right? That what you were gonna say? And, also because you mentioned Kikyo, which was how the whole thing escalated so drastically?”

“Is it wrong?”

“Yes and no.” He stated with a shrug of his brow. “I mean, would I have gotten my ass kicked if you’d stayed in line? Maybe not. But, that’s much worse, in my opinion. That means we all would have just stood by and watched. It’s almost as bad as the culprits if you think about it. And, you mentioning Kikyo isn’t that out of pocket. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. Saying something like that, as impulsive as it may have been, and as dangerous as it had proven to be, doesn’t put you in the wrong. You had solid and good intentions. You didn’t expect anything that had happened today, so get your head out of the toxic mindset that I know it’s sitting in. Focus on what I’m saying, okay? I ran in to try to get him off of you because you’re my family. I’m going to protect you the best that I can. Not once did I think, ‘Oh man, there goes Kagome, getting herself into trouble again.’ My thought process was, and still stands, that they had no fucking right to touch you. The only thing going through my head was to make sure he didn’t kill you. And, I took an ass whooping because I wasn’t strong enough to handle them. Apparently, brute strength isn’t my forte.”

Kagome couldn’t stop her little laugh from escaping. She shook her head, her little grin remaining as she bowed down to rest on her cousin’s chest, not quite placing much of her weight on him.

“You know damn well that if I felt something was your fault, I’d tell you. Bluntly.” Miroku mentioned, rubbing her arm.

“I know.” She giggled again. “But, I still feel bad.”

“Well, stop.”

“On it.” She grunted sarcastically. As if it were that easy.

“One more thing, and this is the most important part, okay?”

“What?” Kagome asked into his chest, feeling it was safe enough to place a little more weight on him when he hugged her, pulling her closer so he could whisper in her ear.

“Not a single one of us knew there was another conjurer nearby. Don’t you dare begin to think that there was anything you could have done to prevent her death.”

Slowly, very slowly, Kagome pushed herself to sit up. It probably wasn’t the hardest thing to do to guess one of the most plaguing thoughts on her mind - she really wasn’t a difficult person to read - but it was still a thing Miroku could easily point out, even in the most difficult of moments.

“You and your frankness.” She sighed.

“You’re gonna be fine, Kagome.” He reassured her, noticing the way her brown eyes couldn’t meet his. “We all are. This won’t last forever.”

Kagome nodded, not able to respond before her mother came in with his next serving of medicine. She used the moment to lighten the mood a little, giving her cousin a side glance.

“Have fun in your coma.”

“Ha - haha - ha. So funny.” He remarked, cringing at the ill-tasting mixture of ground herbs coming his way.

She wished him goodnight then slipped out of the room, sauntering to her own and getting comfortable on her bed. It wasn’t too long before her mom came in to turn things down and make sure she was comfortable. Kagome had to put valiant effort into not making her emotions obvious when she was hugged close. She had to remind herself not to hold on for longer than normal, or cling tighter, or become the least bit shaky, knowing this was the last time she’d see her for a while.

If not the last time ever.

Kagome took a steadying breath, forcing that negative thought from her mind, and when her mama looked at her, she was as composed as ever. Those bad thoughts had no place seeping through. If she was going to do this, which she was, she was going to have to be as strong as possible.

“Goodnight, Kagome. I love you.”

“Love you too, mama.” She smiled, enjoying her warm touch before she left the room, leaving the door cracked.

It was only moments later that a small knock on her door greeted her, bringing her attention back over as her younger brother snuck through, quietly closing it all the way.

“Hey.” Sota whispered, seeming uncertain where he lingered. Kagome knew what he’d shown up for though, so she crawled out of bed. It’s almost like her welcome served as his initiative, and he moved forward, somewhat hurriedly, meeting her halfway and colliding straight into a hug.

His arms wrapped firmly around her sides, fingers gripping into the back of her shirt as his cheek pushed uncomfortably into the bone of her shoulder. He didn’t care. Sota only pulled his sister closer, unable to take a full breath from the frazzled nerves that kept him from letting her go just yet.

“Come back.”

“I will.” Kagome responded softly.

“Be safe.”

“You, too.”

Sota somehow managed to pull her even closer, holding her as tight as his arms would allow. “I mean it, Kagome. I know you can do it. So, prove it.”

Kagome appreciated the challenge. He knew it was something that got her heart sparking and the gears in her mind turning to find solutions.

He felt the nod she gave, her own arms matching his fervor as they wrapped snuggly around his shoulders. “And, you’re sure there’s no way I can talk you out of this?”

Kagome giggled lightly, shaking her head. “Come on, you’re really gonna say that after giving me encouragement?”

Sota chuckled, himself. “Worth a shot.” He said, finally releasing his sister and taking a step back. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

“I think so. I should be good.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Isn’t that the question of the century.” She stated more than asked, the sarcasm clear on her tongue. Broadening her shoulders, Kagome leveled her expression, her brown eyes locking with Sota’s. “Look, I need you to do some things while I’m gone. You’re going to have to be strong. Don’t worry about having to be strong enough for the both of us in my absence; I don’t want that pressure on your shoulders. But, you’ll still need to amp it up a bit, buddy. Keep mama safe, and help Miroku with the heavy duty stuff - he won’t be able to lift things for a while. Things are going to be tense when they find out I’m gone, so expect a spike in stress levels, okay?”

“Okay.” He gave a curt nod.

“Help mama. I know this is going to be hard on her. Tell her I love her. Please.”

“I will.”

“When and if Naraku’s men come back, whatever you do, do not bring attention to the fact that I’m missing. Hopefully, they won’t even notice, but I made the mistake of standing out today so there is a possibility. If they do happen to notice, make something up. Tell them I’m out at the market or something. You know the drill. And, lastly, I need you to take care of yourself. You can’t help if you’re sick or hurt. Mama would be devastated if anything happened to you, and I’m not going to be around to protect you. So, here’s your first lesson in fighting: prioritize your safety and wellbeing. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” Sota appeared to have stood up taller as he said that, nodding again as his brows twitched with determination. “What about Miroku?”

“He can’t do much in his current condition. Hopefully, he’ll be back on his feet soon, but as of right now, he’s out. We’re covered with wood and food for a while, and Sango and Kohaku will be more than happy to help out - and most likely will without even being asked - but that still means you’ll have to compensate here and there. When it comes to Naraku’s men, he can take care of himself, but he can’t step in for anyone at the moment. Just - I don’t know - do whatever you feel is the smartest thing depending on the situation. You’re pretty clever, so I have faith in you. I’m assuming once Miroku’s back to normal, or close enough, he’ll be on my tail.”

“I figured that, too. Good luck whenever that happens.”

Kagome let out an overwhelmed snicker. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“Anything else?” He asked, seemingly taking mental notes on everything she tasked him with.

Kagome took a moment to rack her brain, unable to come up with something off the top of her head. She kept opening her mouth to say something, her tongue clicking, but she’d stop herself every time because she’d realized she’d only be repeating herself. Resolutely, she shook her head.

“Right. Well, I’ve got things covered here, sis. You don’t have to worry about it. Just focus on your goal.”

“Big words.” Kagome grinned, admiring her younger sibling. “I’m not worried about a thing. I trust you.” She saw his shoulders widen at the confidence she presented him with, observing how his smile was one of pride. “Remember what I said, okay? This is officially your first bit of training.”

“Right.”

“Good. Now, go back to bed. Mama’s still awake, and she might notice you’re up soon.” Kagome said, ruffling her brother’s hair.

“Okay. I guess this is goodbye.” There was a slight waver in his lips, in his tone.

“No.” Kagome gave a scrunch of her nose. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya.” He mouthed, the whisper of his tongue hardly notable. Sota gave her one last glance before slipping from her bedroom, shutting the door on his way out.

Kagome listened to the rain with as much contentment as was possible in the anticipating moment, the thunder never returning from it’s earlier pause. She felt they were on the latter half of the storm that would soon calm and clear away, and figured it would only be another couple of hours before she could slip out and begin her unnerving adventure. Laying her head against her pillow, she got comfortable, eyes on the dancing flame of her candle as she busied her efforts to keep the nervous thoughts at bay. She wondered where she was meant to go and what, exactly, she was meant to do out there. What did Kikyo mean by this being their responsibility? Were other conjurers actually in the mix? Would she meet them soon after leaving here? Or, was she bound to be alone until joining the group immediately before their fight with Naraku? Additionally, how soon was that fight going to be? Tomorrow? Next week? Months from now? Sometimes, Kagome felt that not knowing the answers was the worst form of lack of control to exist.

But, then the earlier thought returned to her mind. What if there were no other conjurers? It didn’t mean that there were no other surviving conjurers out there, it was more like she was the only conjurer Kikyo was in communication with. Was that the case? For some horrible reason, Kagome had the gut wrenching feeling that it was true. When Kikyo said “ours,” she meant Kagome and herself. It didn’t make sense, though. Why? What about Kagome attracted Kikyo’s undivided attention?

It was an idea that Kagome told herself over and over to put to rest. There was no use in figuring out someone else’s thought process. There was no use fighting for control over something she didn’t even know how to gain control over. There was only flowing with the process, trusting it, and figuring things out along the way. What was stronger than the gut feeling that she may potentially be the only conjurer Kikyo was referring to, was that things would eventually sort themselves out. Things would be okay. She just had to take it all one step at a time.

As soon as she’d closed her eyes, Kagome found herself at the base of the tree line at the back of their house. It was dark, barely drizzling, the mud beneath her feet more of a liquid than a clumpy mess of wet dirt. She was dressed in what she wore earlier that day, her hand bleeding, dripping of her own and the child’s blood. Her cheek still stung from the slap she’d received from that monster, her throat aching with the reminder of each finger he’d wrapped around her neck, and her head a confused and clustered mess of unsorted thoughts. She was soaked through, shivering from the anxiety and the cold, and when she looked through the break in the trees, as dark as it was, she saw a woman’s figure looking back at her. She stood beside the rope ladder that led to the treehouse Kagome and Sota’s father had built for them, her fingers hooking around the rope to make it swing.

Kagome blinked profusely, trying to make her eyes adjust faster to the lack of light, trying to make her eyes focus on each detail of the woman several feet away from her. She had skin as light as pearl, the curves of someone a little more mature than she, eyes that were too dark to catch a shred of a glimmer but still, somehow, held the evidence of someone who’d seen too much for her age. Her hair, long, ebony, straight, hanging loosely over her shoulders and down to her hips was the dead giveaway. Kikyo. It was Kikyo.

“You.” Kagome breathed.

“Wake up.” Kikyo said, walking closer. She was dressed in perfectly-fitted pants, a tucked and loose blouse - so loose, it looked like she may have taken a man’s shirt and made it her own - and leather boots that met her knees. Over her shoulder sat a leather quiver filled with arrows, a bow strapped right next to it.

“What?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Kagome, stop asking questions.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course, I do. I know plenty about you and what you offer; you should know that by now. Now, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

Kagome held her breath, waiting for the words this powerful conjurer was about to say. Her stomach twisted and knotted, her lip trembled with nerves she couldn’t fight, and all aching in the rest of her body went silent. This was surreal. It was the clearest she’d ever seen Kikyo. It was the loudest she’d ever heard her. This wasn’t a pre-recorded memo delivered to her unconscious state; Kagome actually felt like she was living out this moment.

“It’s time to go.”

Kikyo stood at the edge of the tree line. At the edge of the forest. Her dark eyes locked with Kagome’s, not a single thing about her unsteady, unsure, or fragmented.

Her lips parted once more, her tone more demanding and direct. “Wake up. It’s time to go.”

Kagome gasped, eyes shooting open as she stared at the weakened fire of the candle she’d never blown out. Had she fallen asleep? For how long?

She listened carefully, taking in her surroundings. There was barely any sound of rain, the house was painfully quiet, and the world outside seemed at peace. Still, her mind was loud, energetic, alive with Kikyo’s statement. It was time to go.

Kagome got out of bed, lowering to her knees to reach beneath and pull her things forward. Hastily, she dressed in her chosen outfit, tying her bodice securely and then shoving her feet into the boots beside her closet to pull up and sit snugly mid-calf. In her little mirror, she fixed up her face and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling as satisfied as one could feel in a spontaneous moment to leave.

And, it needed to remain spontaneous. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to look back at the room, the house, and bask in the nostalgia and happy memories. If she did, the doubt would only have a crack to seep back through. Kagome couldn’t allow herself a moment to wish her family well and say goodbye. Spontaneous meant now, and now it was. It was time to go.

Silently, Kagome pushed her window open after strapping her bag over her shoulder. The air was nippy and she wished she’d thought to grab her cloak, but it hung in the entryway of their home. There was no easy or worthwhile way to grab it. She’d be fine. It wasn’t winter, so no matter what, she wouldn’t freeze to death. Kagome climbed over and out, hanging onto the windowsill until she knew her feet would meet the ground without slipping from beneath her.

It was like the action of leaving simultaneously stole the breath from her lungs and gave her vigor. It was terrifying and happening, but nothing was stopping her right now. She kept her sloshing footsteps as quiet as she could, making her way around the siding of their home and toward the back where she’d seen Kikyo.

She wasn’t there. Kagome wasn’t all that surprised, but the dream had seemed so vivid. It was like the conjurer had literally stood just feet away a mere moment ago, and yet the gap in the trees remained as empty as ever. Still, Kagome pushed herself to follow through, resisting the fluttering sensation in her chest to turn around one last time. To give a mental goodbye. She couldn’t.

Somehow, walking through the forest line felt like she was walking through a barrier of sorts. She’d traveled through numerous times, but this time was different. It was like passing through a wall, the boundary holding everything back but her, signifying the beginning of whatever Kagome was bound to face.

She walked up the little path, her eyes still wandering about, looking for Kikyo. When she’d caught something moving to the left in front of her, her attention snapped that way immediately, surprised with the sight of the rope ladder gently swaying. There was no wind to be had, the drizzle of the ending storm barely making it through the treetops to freckle Kagome’s cheeks.

“Kikyo?” She asked, her voice still raspy from the damage she’d taken - and, she figured it would remain that way for a few days at the very least.

No answer.

“Kikyo, are you there?” Kagome tried again, approaching the ladder and grabbing it to stop the rhythm.

Silence.

“Where do I go?” But, as soon as the question had left her tongue, she felt in her core that she knew the answer. She had a plan to head to the cave they’d always trained at on the far outskirts of the village. That’s where they’d hidden their supplies for the day they’d eventually leave. That’s where her bow and arrows were.

Kagome headed that way, her pace quick. There was no way in hell she was about to be alone in the dark, traveling the woodlands without a weapon to keep her safe. The entire way there, and especially as she got closer, she kept her senses alert. If there were demons around, she needed to be careful. Thankfully, she felt absolutely nothing in the air. She was safe. So, she ran through the entrance of the cave, traveling toward a nook, and pulling out the bag.

She found herself mentally apologizing to Miroku and Sango for, what felt like, thievery. Hopefully, if they ever decided to come after her - which was a terrifying thought, because she couldn’t imagine her cousin going easy on her when they caught up - they’d think ahead to restock. She could imagine them being impulsive, grabbing the items, and heading off without realizing she’d taken some important things, but knowing Miroku, as smart as he was capable of being, he’d realize Kagome wouldn’t walk out empty-handed.

The medical supplies were on the top of her list, so she fished them out and transferred the kit into the bag she planned to carry. Then some dried food they’d recently collected, because she really wasn’t the best hunter. She could catch fish pretty well, but when it came to land animals, for some reason, it was a completely different story. The half-full water canteen was next, and she went ahead and took a sip of it before sliding the bottle to sit at the side of her bag. Kagome shoved her hand to the very bottom of the sack, wriggling her fingers to find the handle to something that must have gotten buried beneath everything else by accident. When she felt the cold end of the metal butt, she grasped for it, pulling free the small hunting knife that used to belong to her father.

It was something he’d always carried on him, something he’d purchased before she was even born, and when his ashes were buried, she’d not-so-subtly stolen the knife away so it wasn’t taken with him. She slipped the sheathed blade into the side of her boot, moving her leg around so it fit comfortably in between.

There was a pocket on the inside of the bag, and she reached in, pulling out a pouch of money they’d raised together doing little side jobs around the area and even outside of town. That one she felt the worst for taking, but there was no way she could do this without something to fall back on. It was for emergencies, and she would be frugal. Once Kagome had grabbed all that she’d come for, she walked to the opposite side of the cave. Behind a large rock, safe and tucked away from plain view, sat Sango’s sword, Miroku’s staff, and Kagome’s own bow and quiver of arrows. She carefully made sure the other weapons didn’t fall as she pulled hers free, adjusting the quiver and bow to sit securely over her shoulder.

Feeling confident that she had all that she needed, Kagome headed out. Without stopping to figure out a direction, she let her feet and gut lead the way, careful of her footing over rocks until she met the muddy path that guided her deep into the forest. It was still pitch black out, the moon hidden behind thick clouds that once roared over their village. Kagome couldn’t move as fast as she wanted at the moment, her eyes refusing to completely adjust, and therefore having to mind what she walked over carefully.

She walked until light began to show over the distant mountains, a very patchy, blue and grey glow greeting the new day. It had been hours and Kagome was fatigued, willing to bet she’d only dozed off for a short amount of time before she left her home. The morning smelled of dew, the clouds above her were thinning, little sections beginning to break away for the first time in several days.

The ground wasn’t as wet here, having apparently managed to travel far enough away from the center of the storm. Her heels didn’t sink into the earth, and the air didn’t smell of rain. Hadn’t in miles. She felt no demonic or dangerous forces around, didn’t hear the wake up call of the animals, and knew she was safe and alone.

The mere thought of wandering further at the moment was exhausting. She’d gotten far enough away from her town, and didn’t recognize a single thing around her. So, she located a small clearing a little ways off of her path, one that seemed dry and cozy enough - relatively speaking, of course. She gathered wood and kindling that wasn’t wet, which was a feat on it’s own; she was ready to give up before she found enough to start a little fire for warmth. And, as Kagome got it going, bathing in the heat it provided as it grew to a moderate size, she leaned back against a tree, snuggling up to herself. Honestly, she’d meant to stay awake. Her intentions were merely to rest until she could gather enough energy to continue on and find an inn of some sort far off. Evidently, her eyes had a plan of their own; a more domineering plan. They grew heavy, they stung with weariness, and they closed of their own accord, dragging Kagome to sleep.

—

Boots clapped against the ground, amber eyes, illuminated and daring, locked on their target. He smiled crookedly, tongue gliding over his fang while he shrugged his brows. His silver hair, held back in a high ponytail, swayed to the side as the hanyou cocked his head slightly, his sword braced over his shoulder.

“Why’d you run?” Inuyasha asked.

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#monster #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #miroku #sango #mirsan #my writing #akitokihojo

[vivithefolle]

Not sure if you already talked about this. (I’m pretty sure you have) but someone seemed to notice that when the trio get into fights, Hermione’s always in the right. Even when she’s supposed to be wrong she always seems to be half right. That kind of bothers me. Especially since it’s evident in the whole Scabbers situation.

I have indeed, on Quora, so let’s move yet another answer of mine to Tumblr!

Hermione is seldom wrong in the Harry Potter books. Sometimes she makes mistakes but those mistakes are either completely swept under the rug or downright ignored.

It’s partly due to lazy writing and partly due to Rowling’s own growing bias in favour of her Author Avatar that was fuelled by Steve Kloves, the primary advocate of the Hermione Granger Is The Perfect Girl Ever line of thinking (an utterly ridiculous line of thinking mind you).

Lizo: Steve, Hermione is a character that you have said is one of your favorites. Has that made her easier to write?

Steve: Yeah, I mean, I like writing all three, but I've always loved writing Hermione. Because, I just, one, she's a tremendous character for a lot of reasons for a writer, which also is she can carry exposition in a wonderful way because you just assume she read it in a book. If I need to tell the audience something...

JKR: Absolutely right, I find that all the time in the book, if you need to tell your readers something just put it in her. There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue. One is Hermione, the other is Dumbledore. In both cases you accept, it's plausible that they have, well Dumbledore knows pretty much everything anyway, but that Hermione has read it somewhere. So, she's handy.

Now this, right here, is the exact core of the problem.

Rowling herself admits it: if she wants the readers to have information, she puts Hermione in the scene. Hermione is our primary means of exposition because, like *grits teeth* Sssssteve puts it, it’s easy to assume that she’s read about it somewhere and it makes sense.

That’s all well and good but at first, if you notice, Ron also gave us exposition about the wizarding world, mostly about its culture. He was able to recall the exact year of the Wizarding Confederation that outlawed dragon breeding in Philosopher’s Stone! He explained what were respectively a “Mudblood”, a “Squib”, and Parseltongue, Hermione doing a little exposition about the history of that last one! He was also able to identify Sirius, after being dragged into the Whomping Willow, as an Animagi!

But then Goblet of Fire happens and you can notice the first change that will exponentially grow through the books: instead of Ron, pureblood Ron, born-before-the-end-of-the-war Ron, lived-through-the-aftermath-of-the-war Ron, identifying the Dark Mark, it’s instead Hermione, muggleborn Hermione, lived-as-a-Muggle-for-most-of-her-life Hermione, has-no-idea-about-the-emotional-impact-of-the-Mark Hermione who looks terrified as the Dark Mark shoots into the sky!

And it only will get worse, by the end of the series, Hermione pretty much knows about everything the plot needs her to know, instead of having to work with things she knows but can’t always apply to the situation:

Suddenly has a deep knowledge of Magical Law (in the will of Dumbledore’s chapter, while we had Rufus Scrimgeour who could have provided it to us, or to a lesser extent, Ron could have explained how a wizarding will basically worked)

Is suddenly an expert at finding edible plants and mushrooms. Apparently books are always the goddamn answer in JKR’s world, you can literally learn anything from them

She can decipher all the Tales of Beedle the Bard (may I remind you that they were written in Runes, okay Hermione may have a few years of Ancient Runes education BUT I once tried to translate a 3k+ story I had written for fun, from French to English, which means I knew what the subtleties and intentions were, I knew which turns of phrase I had to preserve so it would make sense in the end, and it still took me two gruelling weeks to get a satisfying result!)

Has suddenly grown a sense of quick-thinking (escaping Xenophilius’ house, using the jinx to make Harry’s face weird-looking) despite it being the only remaining flaw she had at the time (remember when she turned her back on her enemy while he was still conscious just to compliment Harry, and almost died as a result, even though she had been training in the DA to learn how to fight Death Eaters?) Quick-thinking under pressure can be learned, but it takes time and a lot of work to force your brain to override its instinct - and it’s fine because we’re all human and different. But no suddenly Hermione is the Greatest Strategist Evah™ and those silly boys (who actually were the original quick-thinking ones, and one of them was established as the strategist early on) better be grateful for this literal goddess because she protects them from all harm with her superhuman brain.

Somehow knows about Quidditch stuff - she knows about a Snitch’s “memory-touch”. Why should she give all the answers? Why can’t Ron give us this particular tidbit of information?

And then when we come to something Ron actually knows, the damn narration itself goes “woah a book that Ron has read but Hermione hasn’t??? shocking!! incredible!! Ron is not dumb, somebody call the news channel”. But… is that really so surprising? We’ve never seen Hermione read wizarding fiction or even Muggle fiction. We’ve never seen Hermione with anything other than schoolbooks in her hands. Of course Ron has read books she hasn’t read since she doesn’t seem to read fiction at all!

Sorry, bit of a tangent over here.

There are only two characters that you can put it convincingly into their dialogue.

So, that’s one part of the problem: the fact that Rowling, after making Ron our insight into magical culture and Hermione our provider of knowledge, ended up saying “eh whatever I guess Hermione can tell us everything we gotta know because it’s more convenient for me”. Which is a decision that was not based on Hermione’s character, but simply lazy writing. Long story short, it probably went: “Could Ron explain this bit of trivia? Meh, better make Hermione say it cause she’ll have read it in a book. It’s convenient and I won’t need to bother myself with exploring Ron’s characterisation.”

(And thus completely forgetting that Ron could maybe ask his big brothers via owl and provide us with a good heap of extra advanced knowledge - Bill is supposed to have aced his NEWTs after all.)

The other part of the problem is quite simply that Hermione is more often than not, either painted as a victim by the narrative (which makes more people take her side, classic manipulation tactic), or made to be right anytime it’s about a plot point.

Hermione’s mistakes are never explicitly stated, corrected, or even pointed out as being unethical.

Hermione only gets one mistake expressedly pointed out as being a mistake: her misadventure in Polyjuice Potion. The rest of them? Even her crush on Lockhart can’t be counted as a mistake - people get crushes all the time, based solely on physical appearance, it’s not something awful or terrible (Except when it’s Ron who crushes on someone. Ron crushing on someone is absolutely forbidden, and he must be punished with much ridicule and humiliation if he thinks he can get away with not worshipping Hermione like the goddess she is. The nerve of him, really.).

Throughout the books Hermione eventually morphs into Rowling’s Powerful Angel of Vengeance, that punishes the people who dared to do something she disliked - Rita is silenced but at a very ethically dubious price; Marietta gets scarred for life because she was more loyal to her mother than to a bunch of people her friend insisted she hang out with; Umbridge is led to a very, very alarming fate that is never made clear but some people have ideas and they’re not all very kid-friendly; Ron first is “helped” without knowing it because Hermione can’t be bothered to have faith in his capabilities, then when he fails to dutifully reward her for “helping” him, she causes him bodily harm before actively bullying him for not mind-reading her interest in him; causes even more bodily harm to Ron because that’s how feminism works; etc.

Hermione’s mistakes are always justified through the plot itself (which is lazy writing).

Turning into a cat? Only affects her.

The Firebolt? Scabbers? Well, in the end, it was really sent by Sirius Black and Crookshanks really wasn’t the culprit. Therefore all the feelings that were hurt and all the trust lost are irrelevant because Hermione was right all along.

Trying to free the house-elves? Well, it’s the intent that counts, right? And we’re never told enough about house-elf lore to know whether they’re poor brainwashed victims or powerful Penate-like symbiotes who need to serve a wizard to survive?

Kidnapping Rita Skeeter, trapping her and blackmailing her? Rita may be one foul little beetle, but that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Harry approves? Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then…? A main character can’t have a dubious morality, right?

Manipulating Harry into forming Dumbledore’s Army and forcing him to relive a traumatic event with the same woman she’s kidnapped and blackmail and that she knows he hates? In the end, it all works out for the best and Harry’s hurt feelings don’t matter since it’s all about the greater good.

Using the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge (which poses the highly distressing question of what did the centaurs do to her?), realizing that the centaurs aren’t nice little horsies that are going to gently obey her every orders like good Disney princess’ companions, my goodness could this be an opportunity for character growth - nevermind, here comes Grawp the Giant Ex Machina, saving her arse and protecting Hermione from all that scary possibility of introspection. Thanks, Grawp Ex Machina.

Trying to dissuade a highly stressed-out and irrational Harry from rescuing Sirius by telling him exactly what he needed not to hear, a.k.a. “you have a saving people-thing” which causes Harry to completely go bonkers and go save his godfather without thinking twice? Well she was right after all, it was a trap! Nevermind how mind-boggingly insenstive and inadept at dealing with someone else’s feelings she was being, she was right! That means it wasn’t Hermione’s mistake!… probably. (Geez, I’m sensing a pattern here…)

Endangering Cormac’s life (Confunding him WHILE HE’S ON HIS BROOM) to promote Ron’s success? Oh but that’s so romantic! (Yeaaaah, how romantic to display exactly how much faith you lack in your crush. Top it off with a broken neck and that’s a picture perfect first date!)

Assaulting Ron with magic and causing him even more scars than he already had? But he was being cold with her first, right? And he totally should have known she was asking him out! It’s not like her invitation was even worse than his attempt to ask her out two years earlier! Plus she’s just a teenage girl expressing her emotions, anyone who tries to find fault in this is a disgusting abusive misogynist pig! Ha!

Getting all jealous that Harry is better than her at Potions, then pretending she’s not jealous by claiming that TEH BOOK IS EVIL, HARRY, and giving him the cold shoulder too? But no, she’s right, look, Harry used Sectumsempra and he almost killed Draco, nevermind that he’s very horrified about it! Hermione was right, like she always is!

Hermione Obliviating her parents, which pulls her from the “ethically dubious” zone into the “wow okay I’m pretty sure that this counts as a violation of basic human rights” zone, makes her one of those quirky wizardfolk who have the privilege to control those simple-minded Muggles because it’s for the greater good? But nooo she’s crying about it so it’s obviously very sad and angsty and it shows her devotion to the cause!

Splinching Ron while fleeing from the Ministry? Eeeh, but he’s fine, they’ve got Dittany, he’s good as new!… blood loss? Anaemia? What’s that?

Hermione was wrong about the Deathly Hallows not existing? Um, um, that doesn’t matter, LOOK DOBBY IS DEAD AND HARRY IS BACK TO LOOKING FOR THE HORCRUXES!! Therefore Hermione was right, the Hallows weren’t important for their quest, therefore the Hallows might as well not exist, HERMIONE WAS RIGHT NO REALLY I’VE GOT RECEIPTS -

The books never forget to remind Harry and Ron of their own shortcomings and moments of weakness.

Harry’s wrath and recklessness cost Sirius his life. This is the lesson he has to learn from his entitled behaviour in OotP: actions have consequences, and the greater your responsibility, the greater the cost will be.

Ron’s envy and insecurity lead him astray; they’re used to humiliate, ridicule and torture him throughout the books. They’re supposed to teach him that he’s worth something - but how is he supposed to believe that, when nobody ever tells him he’s worth anything? When nobody ever apologizes to him? When his feelings are taken for granted over and over? When his two friends seem to discard him whenever he does one thing wrong?

Hermione is never punished. Hermione is never said to be wrong, never shown to be wrong, never called out on her behaviour. From Prisoner of Azkaban to mid-Deathly Hallows, she stays exactly the same character. She doesn’t grow up. She doesn’t learn. She doesn’t change. She has virtually no character arc.

The only time, THE ONLY TIME IN SEVEN BOOKS, the only time we have something remotely resembling a call-out of Hermione’s horrible behaviour is with this sole quote in HBP:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

Note how it’s about “girls” and not Hermione in particular, which implies that any girl would do what Hermione does to Ron. Thanks for the generalization, JKR, but I like to believe I’m actually a decent sort of person that doesn’t resort to petty cruelty and exploits my friends’ insecurities whenever I’m angry with them.

Hermione NEVER has to apologize. Hermione NEVER has to learn from her mistakes because she’s always presented as a victim when she really isn’t. Hermione NEVER develops into something more - she’s emotionally stuck at fourteen years old. Even less than that when you consider that her reaction to Ron’s return in Deathly Hallows is to trash him with her fists - and she was going to get her wand!! The utter psychopathic b- wanted TO THROW BIRDS AT HIM AGAIN!!! - and this reaction is an appropriate one for a four-years old girl, but certainly not for a supposedly “mature” seventeen-years old.

(Yes, because what separates a child from an adult is the ability to reign in your emotions and not succumb to your impulses. Exactly what Ron did when he left the tent (notice that he had drawn his wand, then he left before he could start hexing Harry), he left to calm himself down. Exactly what Hermione fails to do when Ron returns (she has the impulse to strike him and immediately succumbs to it, which proves to us that The Brightest Witch Of Her Age has all the maturity of a very small child).)

All of that, on top of the awful portrayal in the movies which removes all of Ron’s characteristics to stuff them into Hermione and turns her into some impossible epitome of perfection, eventually contributed to the portrayal of Hermione as the one who is always right and knows everything.

Add to it JKR’s own ridiculous bias (“Ron was quite emotionally immature compared to the other two”, yeah right I don’t see him trying to force freedom onto unwilling creatures or making Harry fly into an irrational rage with mere words but you do you, Jo) and the sexist misconception that “girls are innately more mature than boys”, and you get yourself this apparent behemoth of righteousness that was literally the sole reason why those two silly boys survived everything, and don’t you dare criticize this angel of perfection OR ELSE.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger critical #hermione granger #hermione critical #harry potter series #ron weasley #jk rowling #anti jk rowling

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track six

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist | visual by @brockhsmpton​

“Okay so let me get this straight. You have a boyfriend. Your boyfriend is famous. You’re flying to LA with said boyfriend. And you’re staying at his house? Cause he’s 20 and has a fucking house.” 

“Uh yeah, that pretty much covers it.” 

“Jesus, I move across the country and then you decide to start getting interesting.”

Indy flipped her grilled cheese over in the skillet, and then flipped off the camera, getting an eye roll from Charlie that she felt through the facetime call.

“You gonna be okay on the plane?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, trying to push the nagging thoughts from her mind. 

“Indiana. You’ve gotta tell him before you get on that plane. If you can even get on the plane that is.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it, okay?”

Her list of distractions was dwindling as she finished all the work that had been piled on her before fall break, which was really only a long four day weekend. All she had left was an exam that afternoon, and then it would be time to go. 

Grayson had insisted that they take Beks advice, take a trip out of the city to somewhere other than Jersey. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least.

“That sounds fun but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. Her usual excuse for getting out of things that made her anxious was simple. School. Too much homework, upcoming exam, blah blah blah. Usually that just earned her an eye roll, maybe an off hand ‘nerd’ comment too, but then the subject would be dropped. 

Grayson wouldn’t be swayed that easily; and, she didn’t even have her default option. She scrambled for ideas with her thoughts running wild until he reached across the couch and laid his hand on top of hers.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I was thinking about airports.” It wasn’t a lie, but that was only partially the culprit of the knot in her stomach. 

“It’s a straight flight to LA, super easy. I’ve done it way too many times, I know my way around.”

She chewed her lip and he squeezed her hand. 

“C’mon, you’ll love it. LA is shitty sometimes but it’s amazing too. And you can meet Eden finally, she’s always asking about you. And Adele too. And I can show you the house, the pod studio. We can go surfing if you want. I’ll take you to Monty’s.” 

“Gray. I can’t afford it.” 

“Like I was gonna make you pay for it,” he laughed, but she stayed still beside him, unable to find the same amusement. 

“I don’t want you to spend money on me like that.”

“Money doesn’t mean much to me. Doesn’t mean anything to me really,” he shrugged - she couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. It felt a bit hypocritical, for her to be acting like she struggled with money while she sat in her nice Chelsea apartment. But that money hadn’t come from her own pockets - it came with the price tag of guilt and the threat of it being taken away if her dad felt like it, which kept her and her ever shrinking savings account on edge. Money didn’t seem to be a real concept in the Dolan family however, and she tried to remind herself of that while Gray toyed with her fingers. 

He switched to other tactics of persuasion when the silence stretched a bit too long, moving closer and nuzzling into her neck, pressing little kisses to her skin in between murmurs of “please Dee” and “c’mon baby”.

She conceded, gently tugging on his hair to get him to come back to her.

“Fine. But I’m paying you back one day. When I can.”

Grayson knew that wouldn’t be for years, and he liked the idea of her and him that far in the future, so he just nodded and kissed her again. 

Charlie stayed on the line while Indy ate and then moved on to finish her packing, throwing in too many outfits for just four days and four nights, but she wasn’t sure what California called for. It took her a good five minutes of digging to find her bathing suits that she hadn’t drug out since the summer, but she eventually added them to the bag as the final touch and got everything ready. Charlie convinced her to take a few pieces of skimpier clothing in case the ‘vibes were right’, which had Indy blushing bright red and eventually making an excuse to get off the phone before she had to get into her sex life any further with her sister. 

Her breathing settled for a moment when her phone buzzed, a message from ‘gray 💚  ’.

Plane snacks?

Also does coffee make you shit your pants

Cause I’ll get you some for the ride to the airport if it won’t hurt your tummy on the plane

:)

Leave it to him to put a smile on her face even as her stomach continued to turn. She tried to convince herself it was her exam that had her so worked up, but she knew better. 

if 4 years as a barista gave me anything it was immunity in that department

so yes to the coffee pls :)

and just get me whatever you’re getting for snacks please

Gotcha, I’ll swing by and get your bag

Good luck on your exam! Not that you need it

I’ll be waiting outside in the ugly ass truck 💜  I love you

see you soon, I love you too

With that she packed up the last few things, leaving her bag in plain sight before she left for class. She was able to clear her mind enough on her walk, getting herself into ‘school mode’ before she got to the building. The exam went easily, as she expected that it would - it was nice to have subjects like medical terminology that were so cut and dry sometimes. Either you know it, or you don’t, as Nicole used to say. No point in guessing. 

Indy didn’t like having to guess. 

Which was why she had the airport map pulled up on her phone while she stood on the sidewalk, leaned up against the building as she tried to plan out the best way to get to the terminal that they needed. She’d already done this - three times, actually - but it made her feel better anyways. 

She heard the rumble of the engine first, but it only held her ears for a moment. Because then, it was a giggle, and a squeal, and a whispered voice saying “no, that’s them, that has to be them! Who the fuck else would have a truck like that?”

Indiana’s stomach tightened even more somehow at the realization of what was happening. Charlie’s voice rang in her ears - your boyfriend is famous.

They’d never talked about what to do in a situation like this, but she’d seen enough stories about celebrities who hid their relationships to know that ‘undisclosed’ was the default setting. Suddenly very thankful that she’d decided to go with a hoodie that morning, she pulled the fabric up over her hair and dropped her head, keeping her eyes trained upward to watch what Grayson was doing. 

She watched the girls go up to the cab and ask for a photo, which Grayson seemed to happily oblige to, though he didn’t get out of the car. He noticed her a moment later and his smile faltered at the realization that she’d been waiting on him. The girls asked him to give their love to Ethan and then went on their way. Indy held back for a few moments, waiting until they were out of sight before she hurried forward and got into the passenger seat. 

“You must have finished that exam quick, I figured I’d be waiting on you,” Gray teased, but his voice was a bit tight. 

“It was pretty easy, you either know it or you don’t.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t have known any of it,” he laughed, eyes still scanning the street - whether for cars or people, she couldn’t tell. “You ready to go?”

No. “Sure.”

The pair had felt the peace of comfortable silence enough in their relationship so far to know when it was absent, and there wasn’t a trace of it to be found. Indy was too caught up in her own mind to react to Grayson’s attempts to engage her, from the hand on her bouncing thigh to the looks he snuck, eyes darting from the busy road for a moment. She kept her coffee in both her hands - drinking it was counterproductive in terms of her nerves most likely, but the warmth of it was comforting enough for her to justify it. Grayson’s mouth got drier with every exit they passed, and he kept his cool until they got to the pay to park lot at the airport and he shifted the truck into park.

“We don’t have to go you know.”

The dejection in his voice was finally enough to pull Indiana out of her own little world. Her eyes came back into focus as she turned to him.

“Gray-”

“If it’s about the money, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just really wanted to show you LA, cause it’s a big part of me, and I didn’t want you to be stressed about the price of tickets.” 

“It’s not the money.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re pissed about something, obviously, and I’d like to be let in on the secret if you don’t mind.” 

She shrunk under his harsh tone, unsure of whether she should even say anything. She hated when she got like this, and hated even more that she didn’t even have a hope of control over it, despite it being herself, her own mind causing the issues.

“Planes.”

“What?”

“It’s not you, it’s planes. Airports. Flying in general. I just… I don’t like it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ve been on plenty of planes, and nothing bad has ever happened while I was on there.” There was an airiness to his tone, as if it was as simple as his own testimony fixing the entire situation.

“That… doesn’t help.” She didn’t even like the thought of him being on a plane, much less the both of them. She practically flinched at the sound of one flying over them.

Grayson’s wheels were turning, slower than he wanted them to as he scrambled for an idea, anything that could make her feel better at the realization that his words had only made it worse.

“Can I have a redo on that?” 

She looked up at him - at his sheepish smile and the blush on his cheeks, and the next breath she took in was a tad easier.

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling anxious, what can I do to help?”

His tone was so flat that they just looked at each other and then busted out laughing. Indiana couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her laugh when she felt so terribly. It was almost foreign to her - she felt like she shouldn’t be doing it somehow.

“Sorry, that was - fuck that was formal,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “What I meant was, whatever you need, I’ll do. You just have to tell me.” 

“Uh… not going.”

His hand moved to the gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and leave. She placed hers on top of his, holding on when he moved away.

“Kidding.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little serious. But I want to. I want to go, it’s just hard. Having someone with me that I trust helps though.”

His chest swelled a bit at the realization that he was considered one of those people - it was one of the best honors he could imagine being given by somebody that he cared about, probably because it wasn’t something that he gave out easily. He pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the soft skin.

“I’ll be with you then. You can hold onto me the whole time.”

“You sure about that?”

He frowned immediately at that, reaching his hand over to her thigh, running a thumb over the material of her leggings. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’re probably gonna have more fans coming up to you and stuff. I figured you didn’t want them like… knowing about me.”

“I never said that,” he countered, squeezing a bit. “I mean if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but I’m okay with it if you are.”

There was a sincerity to his gaze that conveyed what he hadn’t said - an almost plea for her to be okay with it. And so she was, at least enough for her to give him a nod and a quick kiss before stepping out of the truck. 

He got to her bags before she could, and he was grateful that he’d only brought a duffle. He managed both bags with one hand and grabbed onto hers with the other as they started through the parking lot.

And he didn’t let go a single time, apart from the security scans and her going to pee after they made it through, in which he waited outside the bathroom for her with his arms crossed. Ethan met up with them at the terminal, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see Eden for the first time in a month. He was staying an extra week to get some quality time with her, and he was a constant stream of excitement. Grayson kept his attention on Indy though, trying to read her for any signs that things were getting worse. He kept a hand on her bouncing leg, running a thumb back and forth constantly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple every so often.

“I’m gonna go check something really quick, I’ll be right back. Ethan, stay with her okay?” 

Ethan didn’t question it. He slid over to replace his brother for a moment as he headed up to the desk at the gate. Despite his bubbly charm, Ethan had a calmer nature to him than Grayson did, no matter how hard he tried to exude the same level headedness. It came effortlessly to his twin it seemed.

“Gingerale helps calm me down on planes. Don’t know why but it does,” he mumbled, scooting a bit closer so his arm was pressed up along hers on the small bars between their seats.

He didn’t seem to need a response, and Indy was grateful. She leaned against him a bit more as a silent thank you that he seemed to accept, and they stayed that way until Grayson returned, switching out places again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder immediately.

“I upgraded us to first class.”

“What? Why!?” She spoke for the first time since the car, surprised that her voice still sounded stable. 

“You’ll see. C’mon, we’re about to board. You still sure you want to do this?”

She couldn’t give him an answer, but she stood up anyways and held onto his arm as they scanned their tickets and moved down the jet bridge. He pressed kisses to her blonde hair, ducking down a few times to check on her as they made their way down and got settled into their seats, Ethan settling into the row beside her. 

Indy kept her lip tucked underneath her top teeth, looking around at anything to distract her from where she was as her mind raced, so fast she couldn’t even pinpoint what was making her the most anxious. 

“Focus on me. I’m right here,” Grayson hummed, reaching over to turn her face towards his for a moment. “You’re okay. We’re okay.” 

“Yeah.” There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in her voice. She felt like she was going to cry, and she tucked her hood up over her ears, trying to drown out anything that sounded remotely like an airplane. Her lungs weren’t working how she wanted them to, and she sucked in breath after breath, none of them deep enough to relieve the tightness in her chest. 

“Here. Try this.” 

Long fingers tucked into her hood, moving her hair back from her ear so he could slip one of his headphones in. It fit snugly, and he scrambled to his phone, pulling up his Cudi playlist and scrolling through until he found what he wanted. The familiar intro of Teleport 2 Me, Jamie started to play as the final passengers boarded onto the rather large plane. How had everyone gotten on so fast? It seemed her mind was running away from her, making time move faster, bringing on the inevitable.

“This song makes me think about you, you know. I know Jamie is your middle name but still.” 

She barely registered his words as a few tears snuck out of the corner of her eyes. Even her lips were shaking as she tried to breathe, curling in on herself with her knees pulled to her chest. The flight attendant was nice enough to not ask to see her seatbelt, sensing that she was better left undisturbed.

The guilt started to eat Grayson alive as he watched her struggle, running a hand over her back and leaning over to hold onto her, looking to his brother for support. Ethan’s eyes were wide with concern but he was just as helpless, not even being able to reach a comforting hand across the aisle because of the flight attendants passing by. It only got worse as they began to move - Grayson couldn’t tell if she was shaking harder or if it was just the movement of the plane. 

The only good sign he got was her reaching her hand out in search of his. When he laced his fingers with hers she squeezed so hard he knew his bones were moving in a way they weren’t meant to, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not when he was the cause of her being in so much distress. It put a pit in his stomach, a mixture of the urge to apologize over and over and the wish that he could somehow climb inside her mind and soothe her, make her believe that she would be alright.

So, he did the next best thing he could think of. As soon as they had taken off, which felt like it took hours, he reached to her waist and unclipped her seatbelt. 

“Come here.” 

It took a moment for her to process, but once she understood Indy didn’t hesitate to climb over into his lap, curling up so small that she fit comfortably there in the wide first class seat, head tucked into the nook of his neck as he wrapped her up in his arms. 

“You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” she squeaked. If anyone else in first class heard it, they elected to ignore it. “It’s not usually this bad.”

“Shhhh, don’t. Just close your eyes. We’ll be there before you know it, okay?”

She reached a hand up to his neck, tucking it in against his skin under his sweatshirt as an anchor before she closed her eyes. She wrestled with her mind, trying to override with a focus on what she was physically feeling - his warm skin under her fingertips, the roughness of his beard against her forehead, the change of the song in her headphone. Her other ear was pressed against his chest and she tried to listen for his heartbeat, getting sidetracked when his hand moved her hoodie up barely so he could get underneath to her skin. One finger began to trace.

I-M-S-O-R-R-Y

She shook her head, tilting up to press her nose against him. It was her that should be apologizing, she thought. She hadn’t warned him properly of what to expect. That being said, it was true that she hadn’t had such a bad experience in a while - it only clicked then that it probably had to do with the fact that Grayson was on the plane too. If it crashed and she died, so would he, and the thought of it made her want to hurl. Instead, she clung to him tighter, forming letters by his collarbone with her fingertip.

N-O-T-Y-O-U-R-F-A-U-L-T

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment before he shifted and rested his cheek on top of her head.

S-T-I-L-L-S-O-R-R-Y

She nuzzled closer to him.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

Against her hip, she felt four gentle squeezes, a silent I love you too as they continued through the sky. 

--------------------------

“Jesus. It’s hot. Like, hot hot.” 

“Ethan. It’s Cali. Of course it’s fucking hot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not natural for it to be this hot in fucking October. Anywhere.”

Indy listened to their bickering quietly, catching her breath a little more with each mile she put between her and the airport. It was just her leg bouncing now as she sipped on her gingerale - it had appeared on her tray table at some point in the flight and she hadn’t been able to stomach it until she made it out of the airport and into Ethan’s tesla, which was driven by Adele, a sweet woman with a kind smile and soft voice. 

Grayson sat in the backseat with her, still on alert for any sign that she was anxious, hand resting on her thigh. But he breathed easier as he watched her body finally begin to accept that she was on the ground, and by the time they pulled up to the gate she was almost back to her normal self. 

She enjoyed the feeling of her feet on the hard concrete of the driveway when she got out of the car, feeling a bit like a celebrity when the door swung open over her head. Grayson grabbed the bags and was immediately at her side, taking her hand and leading her up to the door. It wasn’t the first time that Indy had seen the inside of the house - she’d gotten glimpses of it on a few vlogs that they’d watched with Bekah one night. But there was a warmth to the space that didn’t quite read on camera, a familiarity that she realized was traces of Grayson everywhere, from the Cudi vinyls on the shelf to the wood based furniture that he’d definitely had a hand in making. 

“I’m going to get Eden, I’ll be back in… I don’t know how long,” Ethan winked, immediately grabbing his keys and heading back out to the still warm Tesla, leaving his bag off the side of the kitchen.

“You up for a tour?” 

If she was honest, her body was entirely exhausted, and her mind wasn’t far behind. But she perked up for his sake and nodded, taking his hand as he started to guide her through the house. He stopped in each room, showing off little details he’d helped pick out, from the colorful couch in the sunken room off the kitchen to the floating desk in Ethan’s room that he’d helped him install. The podcast studio was the most eclectic of any of them, with a massive wooden table that almost seemed carved around the blue light in the middle - not to mention the hot pink wall of the entrance, which was cut off by a wild jungle wallpaper wall that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Grayson spoke a mile a minute, explaining every step, every change they had made to the house since they’d bought it. Indy’s mind struggled to keep up, to visualize what he was saying, describing rooms she’d never seen.

“Ethan got the master this time around, so my room is a little smaller, but it’s cooler anyways.”

He guided her into a dark room on the right side of the hallway. It was somehow calmer than the rest of the house, and it practically zapped the rest of the energy out of her as soon as she passed the threshold. He showed her the green bathroom, the fancy toilet he’d picked out, his massive and meticulously organized closet. But when she flopped down onto the bed, she knew she was done for. 

Grayson smiled when she hummed against the comforter - the first true sign of relaxation she’d shown since he’d picked her up from campus that morning.

“You tired bubs?” 

“No,” she lied.

“You wanna take a nap?”

“No.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I’m resting, I just need like… 30 seconds.”

“You can sleep.”

“You were gonna show me the backyard though.”

She felt the bed dip down slightly, and then his lips were on her temple.

“The backyard will be there when you wake up. Besides, I need to get some work done anyways, and you’ve had a shitshow of a morning. Sleep, and maybe we can go get dinner with E squared later if you’re up for it, and I’ll take you to the beach.”

“E squared?” She muttered, only half motivated to stay awake for the answer. 

“Ethan and Eden. They’ll be back over in a few hours I’m sure, he’s saving us from having to listen to their reunion fuck through the walls.”

“How considerate.” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, and it made Grayson smile. He moved to his closet, opening the extra drawer he used to store his blankets and pulling one out for her. 

She vaguely felt the weight of the fabric being laid over her, and a gentle hum that sounded like ‘I love you’ before her body finally gave in and succumbed to sleep.

As soon as he knew she was out, Grayson got to work on all the things that he’d neglected in the last month. He made quick work of a full email inbox, a few calls that he stepped out of the room for, a Wakeheart campaign approval that he forwarded to Ethan - something about being back in LA lit the fire under him that always seemed to simmer out in the cool Jersey air. It took less thought, less intention to go into his kitchen, use his preset on the coffee machine with his favorite mug under it. Jersey was home, but LA was home, and he never realized how much he loved it until he was away for a while. His phone buzzed, loud against the counter - a text from Ethan running across his screensaver of the only picture he’d taken with Indy so far. He made a mental note to take more over the next few days before he opened the message.

Be there in 10, make sure everyone has pants on

He liked the message and stood up slowly, closing his laptop before heading back towards his room. He paused in the doorway, unable to help himself as he looked in. 

Indiana was sprawled out across his bed, one of her legs escaping from under the covers. The pillow was tucked under her head, held by one arm while the other reached out to the empty side of the bed, hand splayed out on the fabric. With his phone already in his hand he couldn’t help but to snap a quick picture of her, a sweet memory that he knew he’d want to keep. He felt a little guilty having to wake her up from what seemed like such a peaceful nap, but he also knew she’d be made if he didn’t give her a chance to freshen up before Eden got there. So he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, rubbing along her back until her eyes blinked opened.

“Time to get up sleepyhead,” he teased, keeping his hand on her hip as she rolled over and stretched out in the most adorable way.

“Hmmmm, c’mere,” she grinned, reaching up for him and pulling his lips down to hers. The little cat nap seemed to be the recovery her body needed, a reset that allowed her mind to focus on other things, like how good Grayson looked in the fresh t-shirt that he’d changed into while she was out. He indulged her, moving a knee onto the bed so he could get above her and get behind the kiss.

“Ethan’s gonna be here in 10,” he murmured, but his lips still moved against hers, his relief palpable that she seemed to be doing better. 

“Then we have 9.”

“Eden’s coming too.”

She pulled back with wide eyes, and before he could say another word she was rolling out from underneath him. It took her two whole rolls to get to the other side of the bed, which was almost as endearing to Grayson as the way she scurried to her bag in the closet, immediately pulling out clothes like her life depended on it.

“Baby, it’s just Eden.”

“No, it’s Ethan’s girlfriend Eden. Which means she’s not just Eden, it means she’s very important.”

“Important? You act like this is a job interview or something.”

“It’s a girlfriend interview, which is worse.”

“A what?” He struggled to stay focused on her answer as she pulled her leggings off and wiggled into a pair of high waisted black jean shorts as she spoke.

“When you have a woman in your life, a good woman, who isn’t your girlfriend, they go into protective mode. It’s a maternal thing I think, but it doesn’t matter who it is, they keep an eye out for you. And the biggest threat that those women can see for their guy friend is a new girlfriend. It doesn’t mean she’s gonna hate me, but she’s definitely gonna want to vet me at the least. And I bet it’s worse because I’ll be around Ethan so much so she’ll want to be extra careful. Plus, she doesn’t know me from adam, and...hey. Hey. Are you listening to me?”

At some point in the middle of her explanation she’d taken her shirt off, and Grayson’s mind had gone a bit fuzzy at the sight of her bra - dark purple, with a peek of lace under the cups.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Eden’s nice though, she’s sweet, there’s nothing to be scared of.” 

She turned to him with a frustrated frown that he kissed away when he closed the distance between them, hands moving to hold her bare hips. Her skin was soft and still had a trace of warmth from sleep, and it made him hold on and rub his thumbs against her for a moment, trying to process that she was actually there with him. 

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, and besides, her opinion of you isn’t going to change my opinion of you.” He kissed her forehead quickly and let go so she could get ready. She pulled a tank top on and headed into the bathroom, freshening up until the moment that she heard the front door open, signally Ethan and Eden’s arrival. 

“Do I look okay?”

“Perfect as always,” he beamed, taking her hand and leading her back out towards the kitchen.

“Grayson!” 

Eden came running around the island and barrelled into Grayson like she hadn’t seen him in years. He caught her with a smile, a laugh and a ‘hey evil’, an inside joke that Indy wasn’t let in on. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because she was immediately wrapped up in tan arms, her vision obscured by a curtain of wavy black hair. 

“Hi! I’m Eden, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Hey, Indiana, nice to meet you too!” 

The hug was as awkward as any first hug she’d ever had, but the smile on the boy’s faces made it worth it when Indy pulled back. Ethan was glowing in the way you only glow after you get laid for the first time in a long time, and he’d apparently worked up an appetite, because they didn’t spend more than five minutes in the house before they were headed out to Monty’s. Indy still tried to open the Tesla door like a normal one, barely stepping back in time when it lifted up above her head. To her surprise, Eden jumped into the backseat beside her, forcing Grayson up to the passenger seat next to Ethan. 

“So, you’re in school right? To be a nurse?”

“A doctor actually, but yeah, I graduate in a little over a month with my Bachelor’s,” Indy explained, preparing herself for the questions she was sure to get, being careful to be truthful in her answers without accidentally saying something that would make Eden hate her. Ethan’s girlfriend had a sweet face, peppered in freckles that almost looked faded in her warm toned skin. Her eyes sat large on her face, making her look a bit like a doe. But her outfit told a different story - everything about it spoke confidence and bad bitch energy in a way that Indiana was only used to seeing on LA model’s instagrams. It hit her quickly that it was very much possible that Eden might actually be an LA model, and the thought made her mouth run dry.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer.”

“Oh really? That’s amazing! What kind of work do you do?”

Eden launched into her career, from how she got there to what major brands she’d worked for - some of which shocked Indy. Grayson reached back behind his seat a few minutes into the drive, holding onto her leg and running his thumb along her skin as he balanced listening to his brother and listening to the girls. The energy settled in the cab, and Indy breathed out a sigh of relief at the realization that, for now at least, she’d passed the test. 

It didn’t stop the questions though. A constant stream of information grabs, from her favorite things about New York to her family. Grayson squeezed tight when Eden mentioned her mom, throwing Ethan an unjustified look of annoyance. Indiana didn’t mind, though she didn’t love the look of pity that came over Eden’s face when she let her know that she had passed. But it moved on quickly, on to questions of her apartment, her college, her friends. 

The only pause came when the Tesla rolled to a stop outside of Monty’s, which was packed with a long line outside. Eden let out a small sigh, reaching down for her purse.

“Usual, guys?”

They both nodded, a bit of unspoken tension growing in the air.

“Indiana, you wanna come with? The boys can just circle around.” 

“I uh… yeah, yeah sure.” Indy went along with it, stepping out of the car quickly, trying to look back at Grayson through the window for some explanation, but they were so tinted that she couldn’t even guess what his facial expression was. Eden linked their arms quickly, leading her down the sidewalk and to the back of the line as if nothing had happened. Indy watched Ethan pull away quickly, and swore she could see a very concerned Grayson through the windshield.

“It makes it easier if they don’t have to get out. Too many people, and with a line this long the paps would show up.”

Two brunette girls in front of them turned around, interest piqued. 

“Paps? For who?”

“No one, mind your damn business,” Eden said, waiting until they turned around to melt back into her usual friendly demeanor. 

“I didn’t even think about that. About like, getting recognized I guess. But it happened in New York for the first time this morning, on campus.”

“LA is the worst for it. People see you take a picture with someone and then ask for one even if they don’t know who they are. Well, most people our age know who they are actually, but still. It’s not as bad in other places, just the occasional person. Et-” she cut herself off, knowing the girls were still eavesdropping. “He loves meeting fans but it gets to be a lot sometimes. So I try to help him out when I can. They’ll never ask for it, but they never turn it down either.”

Indy swallowed hard. She said it so casually, as if it was totally normal for the two of them to be standing there while their boyfriends drove around just so they didn’t get mobbed. She felt like a million pairs of eyes were on her as they inched forward in line every few moments. Eden just looked at her nails, picking at her cuticles. 

“Does it ever get… normal? Them being recognized?”

“You learn to ignore it. And they don’t go out as much as you think. We’ll go out to show you around because you’ve never been here, but most of the time they’re home bodies. They kinda had to be, coming out here so young.” 

“I can’t imagine coming out here at 15,” Indy mumbled, shaking her head. 

“They’ve been through a lot. But then again so have you. So has everyone, at the end of the day.”

She was taken aback by the sudden depth of the conversation, but it didn’t last long, because soon they were close enough to the menu that Indy was asking questions. The Tesla circled again while they waited on the food, which came in little brown boxes stuffed into a bag. The girls waited on the curb for Ethan to pull back around, climbing in as inconspicuously as they could, getting settled into the backseat again. 

“Got the goods?”

“You know it,” she grinned. Grayson reached back for Indiana again - he’d missed her in the few minutes that they were gone, and he didn’t realize he’d been anxious until it faded when she was back with him.

“We’re going to the secret beach, it’ll be like 10 minutes, so don’t eat all my fries.”

“I bought us all an extra to share.”

“Atta’ girl,” Ethan said, pressing on the gas a bit harder. 

The secret beach, it turned out, was just a less populated one. But it was peaceful, washed pink by the beginnings of a sunset over the ocean. Grayson couldn’t tell if he was more overwhelmed by the colors in the sky or the feeling of finally having his own girl with him, someone’s hand to hold as he moved down the sand beside his brother and Eden. It had been almost a year of him being a third wheel, and he couldn’t stop looking over at Indy, his girl, who was there with him. 

Her eyes were on the ocean. Sure, she’d seen the atlantic ocean plenty of times, but the pacific was different. It seemed bigger somehow, bluer, and it took her breath away. Food forgotten, she tugged on Grayson’s hand, only pausing to kick off her shoes before she was running down towards the water, laughing when the froth of the waves tickled her toes. Grayson’s shoes were soaked, but he didn’t care as he followed her down the coastline, laughing and yelling, picking her up around the waist and spinning her around, stopping to kiss her hard as the waves crashed. Ethan took a video on Grayson’s phone, a proud smile on his face as he watched his brother light up. Eden rested her head on his shoulder, remembering the days where that was the two of them, when everything was brand new and on fire. 

The duo’s burgers were cold by the time they made it back up the beach, and Ethan had already started in on Grayson’s fries, much to his dismay. But they settled in the sand and ate their food, falling back into the group conversation between bites and swallows.

“So, you’ve been in LA for what, 5 hours now? Are you sold yet?” Ethan picked up another fry from the extra container, dropping it into his mouth.

“It’s gonna take a lot more to sell me on anywhere this far west,” she laughed, crumpling up the paper that her burger was wrapped in and tossing it into the box.

“Has Grayson made you a Jersey girl already?” Eden teased.

“It’s grown on me for sure, but nowhere compares to New York.”

Grayson chewed his last fry a bit slower.

“Yeah? Ethan took me into the city once when we were visiting Jersey but I don’t know much about it if I’m honest. I grew up in Texas.” 

“The city is special once you get to know it. There’s so many different people, different cultures, new places to go. And it’s got all the best hospitals, which just makes me work harder because I want to work in one some day. Plus it uh… it’s just always been home to me. I can’t imagine living anywhere else really.” 

Grayson’s stomach tightened, suddenly very full of food and smaller than when he’d started eating. They’d never really discussed living situations. He racked his brain, tried to remember if he ever mentioned that he was only staying in Jersey until the tiny homes were done. Surely she realized that he was going to come back to LA. He couldn’t tell if he’d subconsciously thought that she would want to move with him, or if he just assumed that they would handle the distance. But his mind was instantly filled with the image of Indy curled in on herself in a first class seat, and he resisted the urge to get up and walk it off as the guilt returned. The sun seemed to set faster, turning the beach indigo as everyone got up and headed back for the car. 

Ethan took an extra moment to fold up the picnic blanket they’d brought, letting the girls get just out of earshot. 

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t go all doomsday on this shit and shoot yourself in the foot. Cross the distance bridge when you get to it. You all haven’t been together a month yet, if you start talking moving across the country she’s gonna freak. Give it time.”  

Most of the time, Grayson despised Ethan’s big brother persona - 20 minutes wasn’t a flex when it came to maturity in his book. But in certain moments, he was grateful for his level head. It helped him breathe a little easier as he headed back to the car, happy to see that Eden had shifted to the front seat. He took the back, a bit annoyed at the space between their seats - another perk of his Porsche, no doubt. But he settled for resting a hand on Indy’s thigh and leaning over for the occasional kiss as they found their way home.

Each couple bid their goodnights despite the early hour, a silent understanding of the do not disturb courtesy to be followed. Indy and Gray bumped hips as they brushed their teeth in the same sink, toothpaste filled smiles shining at each other in the mirror. They fell into each other like they’d done it a million times, even though they could still count on two hands the amount of times they’d had each other like this. It didn’t matter that they were in a new place. Grayson felt the same above her, beside her, behind her as they worked each other up and eased each other down. Their voices echoed off the walls the same, the attempt to stay quiet still there as they tried to give the other couple the same respect that they were no doubt trying to give them. 

The travel caught up with Indy first - she was much less versed in time changes after all, and she fell asleep right after her quick shower, curled up in Grayson’s arms, his nose full of her vanilla shampoo and his mind racing, running laps around two words. New York.

He felt like he heard more about the city in his next few days than he did when he was actually there. They facetimed Bekah the next morning, glad to see that she’d made it out of surgery successfully, and that all was smooth sailing so far. She was ecstatic that her two friends we’re getting a break, and she excitedly showed them the new view of the city she had since her recovery room was on the other side of the hospital.

Indy wore a New York sweatshirt that evening when they went back to the secret beach, and she fell asleep with it on on the couch at home, leaned back against Grayson’s chest. He carried her to bed and kissed her forehead, but his eyes focused on the letters, which seemed to be staring at him in the dark.

They ordered pizza for lunch the next day, after an anxiety filled morning of Eden and Indy in a follow car behind the two of them longboarding with their friends. Eden asked about what made NYC pizza so much better, and it seemed like Indy could have talked for hours about crust and sauce, seasoning and ratios. 

By the third day, it was consuming his every thought, and despite Ethan’s advice to let it play out, he knew he had to talk to her, or at least try to.

Indy was none the wiser. The LA sun had warmed her skin and her mind, leaving little lines of its presence on both. By the second day the house felt less like a hotel and more like a home, and she understood why the boys loved it so much. Eden became more than an acquaintance; she was easy to love, and the interview seemed to have stopped for the most part. But a part of her still itched for her New York apartment, the bustle of the city, the familiarity of campus and Jets and the blocks that she walked down.

She thought she’d hidden it well, but she learned she was mistaken on the last night they spent in LA.

“You’re ready to leave, aren’t you?” 

Indy perked up from where she had settled on his chest. It was routine now, for her to rest against him and trace patterns on his skin before they dozed off.

“Hmm?”

“You’re tracing N-Y-C on my chest. You want to go home.”

“Home sounds nice, the plane ride doesn’t though,” she laughed a bit. Laughing was good. Calm, and put together. “Guess it’s just my subconscious.”

Grayson sighed against her, running his fingers over her back as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t realize you were so attached.”

“To what?”

“To the city.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, it’s home.”

“Home can be multiple places. LA is home, Jersey is home, hell, even Australia is home for me in a way.”

Indy’s neck got tired from craning up at him, so she shifted up to sit with her legs criss cross as he lounged back against the pillows. 

“Well, I’ve never really had to make anywhere else home. New York has everything I need I guess.”

“You’ve never wanted to try somewhere else?”

Indy sighed, finally understanding.

“Gray, baby, it’s not like I hate it here. I know it’s important to you, and it should be. I’m just saying that New York is… well, it’s New York. It’s important to me, it’s where I’ve planned out my future.”

He sat up further, propping up on his elbow, resting a hand on her knee. 

“What does that mean though? ‘New York is New York’. I mean, it’s a cool city, I’ll give you that, but it’s not just that, right?”

It took a moment for Indy to find her words. She’d never really tried to explain it to anyone, but if anyone would get it, it was him.

“It’s my mom.” 

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he opened his mouth, but she kept talking before he could.

“I know she’s not there. She’s wherever she is, I guess. But she breathed New York Grayson. That’s the last place that I knew her while she was still her, and the last place that she knew me. My memories of her live in that city, and when I’m not there I feel like I’m even farther away from her. And I already feel like I’m forgetting little things, because it’s been 4 years now, and I can’t even tell what I can’t remember, and it’s scary.”

Her breath caught in her throat a bit at the realization of what she was saying, what she was admitting. She’d never spoken any of it, not even to Charlie. 

“Leaving would feel like moving on and leaving her behind, and I can’t do that. I can’t.” 

Her face fell into her hands, and when Grayson’s arms moved around her and pulled her close, she let him. 

He held her there until her tears stopped, rocking her barely back and forth until the wave had passed. He thought of Sean, of where he was, and what he would say. And he did his best to take on the heart of his father, to be like the man he so admired - selfless, and good, and strong for others no matter what it cost him. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he spoke.

“No one is asking you to leave. I promise, I’ll never ask you to leave. I promise.”

#SURPRISE HEHE #mixtape #wowza I did not expect to finish this tonight #well #~this morning~ i suppose #please let me know what you think!!! #love you guys! #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction

[itsclydebitches]

Hacked penny isn't over yet I think. Juan did say he can't keep boosting her aura forever, so its more like a bandaid on a stabwound. Is it better than nothing for the situation? Sure, but it's not fixed.

I don’t think it’s over either based on that dialogue, but at this point, no matter what happens in the next few episodes, the arc is ruined for me. Like taking “Salem is attacking Atlas with an unstoppable whale grimm. However will our heroes combat it?” and reducing the outcome to “Ruby’s group did nothing, Yang’s group chose their friend over the safety of the kingdom, and Oscar destroyed it with a weapon no one knew he had before the actual plan we’d been building up could be implemented,” you can’t erase how the show raised the stakes and then shrugged them off, even if we do get something good in the final hour. The damage is done. So how has Penny been treated the same way? 

Penny is hacked right when she’s holding up Amity. Will this mean Ruby’s message won’t get out to the world? No, Penny stays herself just long enough to complete it. 

We see Penny fall, unconscious, as a cliffhanger. Will she be damaged/killed by that fall? Will the Ace Ops be able to snatch her up while unguarded in the tundra? No, sometime off screen Penny apparently woke up again and flew herself to Ruby. 

Penny crash lands among the group, clearly hurt and apologizing for something she doesn’t explain before passing out again. Will the group finally leave to discover whether Pietro and Maria are okay? Find out what happened to cause this? No, they turn on the power so that Klein, the butler-doctor, can do something unnamed to help Penny, since he’s also a scientist, I guess. 

Penny wakes up again and the hack continues. Will she unwillingly use her Maiden powers to hurt someone in the mansion? Like Klein, the very minor character few care about and whose injury/death would provide a distinct consequence to all this? No, Nora calms Penny down by reminding her that she’s... multifaceted? 

Penny is overtaken again and starts to leave, revealing that she is to open the vault and self destruct. Will she succeed in escaping? No, the Hound stops her, knocking her unconscious again (third time, folks!), even though it makes no sense why he’s trying to bring her back. Watts hacked Penny to open the vault for Salem. Salem knows he did this because Watts contacted them. So why is Salem sending the Hound to stop Penny from doing what Salem wants? Why the attempted detour to the whale when Penny is already on track to the end goal? The Hound should have been focused on the group, giving Penny the means to escape. 

So Penny has demonstrated how dangerous she is in this state, has revealed she’s after the Relic, and that she’ll self-destruct upon getting it. Will the group try desperately to find a way to fix or contain her? At least put up a guard to watch over her? No, they’re more focused on Emerald and Summer angst. Jaune seems to just conveniently spot Penny escaping again. 

The group captures Penny and is faced with a (stupid) choice: let her go, or kill her. Will they make that choice in a volume where they continually refuse to make choices? No, Ruby comes up with the nonsensical solution of, “We can combat the technological virus by having Jaune boost what supposedly makes Penny human.” Okay. 

Except Jaune shouldn’t have even been able to do that. Putting aside the growing list of convenient things his semblance can apparently do, he was just as exhausted as Ren back in the whale. They both needed a break and then Ren’s aura broke immediately afterwards. So Jaune should be at the end of his rope, right? No, just a short time later he has enough aura to try to heal Nora and boost Weiss and fix Penny long enough for the group to focus on other concerns. 

With the added issue that that’s still not how Jaune’s semblance works. Every time he uses it  — to boost someone’s aura to heal, to boost a semblance, etc.  — he has to keep doing that for the person in question to experience the benefits. We see it on screen, via the aura itself or just by having Jaune touching them. The moment he removes his hand that boost is lost... yet now, suddenly, Jaune touches Penny for a second and she remains in a boosted state? She’s not completely fixed, no, but they came up with a short-term solution that is illogical on its own while simultaneously ignoring two of Jaune’s limitations: being low on aura and the need to continue boosting someone in order to create that benefit. To justify Penny not returning to the state she was in when everyone was piled on top of her, Jaune should be glued to her side and amplifying her aura constantly  — a far, far shorter solution than what the episode actually gave us. 

There’s no consistency here. There’s no meaning. When Jaune warns that he can’t “keep this up forever” I have no emotional investment in that because this entire arc has been dodging consequences, most recently ignoring established facts to do so. That line is meant to make us worried  — “What happens when Jaune can’t boost Penny anymore??”  — but like “What happens when Penny wakes up??” or “What happens when she attacks??” we already know that there’s no actual danger here. There won’t be any consequences. The show has pulled back too many times before. For the entire second half of the volume the show has gone, “Omg Penny is in danger/is dangerous!” and then undermining those stakes in the most frustrating way possible. Something happened off screen. The butler can fix her. Nora held her hand for a second. She’s knocked unconscious again and no steps are taken to prevent the next escape attempt. Jaune’s semblance bends the rules of this world to implement a temporary fix that doesn’t really add up. 

At this point, the claim of, “Penny is still in danger!” has lost all impact because the show has refused to commit to that danger for seven episodes in a row. 

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #Anonymous

[chaoticspacefam]

wonder if part of why the swtor jedi-sith conflict plays the way it does with “sith stans” and etc because the sith empire are functionally saturday morning cartoon villains - “murder and mayhem await!” compared to the more, i guess, believable evil of the republic/jedi following good ideals to bad conclusions and justifying war crimes

I'd certainly say it doesn't help things, you're right! I have...a lot of issues with the Jedi and their portrayal (especially in the Legends/SWTOR era), but I also recognise that a lot of that is very personal to me and that another fan might feel differently. Long, ranty post ahead so if that's not your deal, skip this one.

TL;DR: thinking critically about the behaviour of the Good Guys bad, I guess, since they're the good guys and you're obviously not allowed to use your own agency to decide something they do makes you deeply, viscerally uncomfortable.  And God help you if you disagree with anything they do and cite personal experience behind your (very justified) avoidance of that rhetoric/teaching, because Bad Things Justified If Good People Do Them and how dare you have different personal experiences and responses. If that's what you do, you're doing fandom wrong /s Also, bad writing choices of the writers themselves that perpetuate toxic, harmful viewpoints and/or stereotypes don't mean anything when said viewpoints/stereotypes are the Bad Guys because...Bad Guys Aren’t Supposed To Be People With Rights, Thoughts and Feelings Too, They’re Just Evil, (cringe)

Disagreeing with someone’s opinions is fine, but if you’re going to deliberately expose yourself to content you don’t like and then attack the person that is making the content because they made it and it upset you when you went looking for it....you are, in fact, the one at fault babes. No one is holding you hostage, you can block tags or unfollow a person (especially me. I really don’t care honest to god, if my posts are not your jam just leave. please.) if you hate what they post so much and are unable to just scroll past things you don’t like to stay for things you do. I’ve done it and will continue to do so, and my fandom experience is happier for it. Also, people are human and sometimes we’re tired and we make mistakes like we miss a trigger tag, and you are within your right to come to the person and point that out, but you are not within your right to threaten them because they made a mistake. Then you’re just a dick.

But I still wouldn't be the one going around (passive) aggressively attacking other fans for disagreeing with my opinions and again, this is based on personal experience, but I've seen a lot more of that stuff from "pro-Jedi" people who seem to be conveniently okay with shit like mass-genocide and cultural erasure because "the Jedi are the good guys and the (OT) Sith are fascists!"

I don't interact with the subsect of fans that do think "the (OT) Empire did nothing wrong hurr durr" unironically (and for good reason, I don't agree with that viewpoint either and the fact that half the time the "defence" of these other fans is "well you're pro-fascist then!!" lmao) but there's a very big gap between the OT Empire which is rightfully a mirror of fascism and dictatorial governments and I do, in fact, raise my eyebrows in heavy criticism and disdain at the writers of the TOR-era deliberately choosing to "justify" the ultimate end being said fascist Empire by making the Sith species (and as always I preface this by saying I am in fact white & therefore know I have priveledge and can only "relate" on a much shallower level as POC fans, but there are places where I do find them more relatable than the TOR-era Jedi which reek of conservative, pearl-clutching Christianity (which I spent way too much of my life having forced upon me by the bible-bashing Evangelists(tm) in my family) to me and I just don't have the fucks to give to spend time fixing something that's honestly traumatising for me to be reminded of):

-heavily Indigenous/POC-coded

-"tribal" and not in a properly-researched and respectfully portrayed sense but in a very deliberate "these people are savage and need to be colonised and "sophisticated" by the More Acceptible (Human) Dark Jedi" even though they had their own society, belief systems, and even had technology - just not in the "socially acceptible, conventional sense" I guess

-perpetuating this by adding slavery and all of that can of worms into the mix too, just to drive home the "evil and bad" prototype ig. I'm not even gonna speak more on this part because it just makes me angry.

-Deliberately giving them more "alien" or inhuman characteristics, which while by itself is not necessarily a bad thing, put it together with all the other things?? Big. Fucking. Oof.

-Were literally exterminated and the survivors selectively bred for ONLY the "bad and evil" traits for not agreeing with the Jedi's beliefs. Their own practises and beliefs were automatically "evil" and "wrong" just because they didn't want to "convert" (sniff sniff, Christianity, is that you?)

A direct quote for those who can't be bothered to click and read the link:

For nearly two thousand years, superstition, loyalty and sympathy were bred out as the two groups interbred, and qualities such as cunning, ambition and affinity to the Force were favored, which shaped Sith society over the centuries.[3][21][22] In the Sith Empire, as time progressed pure-blooded Sith were steadily bred out,[6] resulting in only a few pure-blooded Sith left in the Sith Empire by the time of the Great Hyperspace War.[13] Long after, the true species in the Empire were believed to have gone extinct due to the interbreeding process.

And conversely the Jedi:

-Deny young children contact with their parents, siblings and families from the moment their Force sensitivity shows (hmmmm. )

-Continually and actively support the condemnation and Exile of "imperfect" Jedi, hell, it's even pointed out on Wookieepedia, that any Force sensitive, even those who are not aligned to either faction, but that train with or follow teachings that are not Jedi Approved (tm) is labelled as a "Dark Jedi" by the Jedi Order

Although "Dark Jedi" originally referred to a Jedi who had fallen to the dark side, it could also refer to uninitiated Force-sensitives who received no Jedi training but began their careers under another Dark Jedi. Others were simply dark-side users who did not follow the teachings of the Sith or other dark side organizations.

because "oh noooo you do not follow the way of the Truth and the Light you horrible person how dare you defy The One True Correct Teaching, that makes you the Devil Incarnate no matter what" UGH.

-Continuously push the idea (very heavily) that Emotions Are Bad, which just creates a bunch of emotionally-stunted powderkegs unable to recognise, confront and deal with said emotions (and as I've said, I would know, I was one and maybe still am in some ways lmao) , then blames said powderkeg for exploding because they were never taught how to handle the emotions in the first place.

(Fuck "there is no emotion, there is peace", that's not how people work and never will be lmao)

I don't really know what else to say about this to be honest, because even though I've only been on tumblr about a year now, I'm already tired of this constant "I'm right, you're wrong" finger-pointing between those people in the fandom.

Cause to some of these "pro-Jedi" people it's an unthinkable crime to dare to have a different opinion to them and just want to be left alone, I guess. I've literally been attacked for saying "I don't like the Jedi and find dealing with their dogma too traumatising based on personal experience and trauma from my childhood so I'm going to avoid it but you do you"

I've had American Christians (tm) clap back to that with the ever-wonderful "LMAO bitch you don't have religious trauma, you didn't grow up in the bible-belt, stop trying to be edgy, shut up and go to therapy"

(all of this is sarcasm, for those who need me to spell it out for you. I'm still traumatised by the shit I went through and have to constantly check myself and my own feelings because of the toxic "habits" those teachings tried to push onto me as a child and I have zero tolerance and patience for your (not you, ssalmon, but the royal "you" as it were) victim-blaming abuse apologism "gotchas")

because 1) clearly American Christianity and the bible-belt are the only insidious and harmful subsect of Christianity and it's not like the concept of Evangelism as a whole is inherently toxic, harmful, and traumatising to those subjected to it right 2) Obviously there's a Stated Right Way To Be Traumatised and anyone who falls outside of that (Non-Existent) handbook is "faking it for attention" 3) bold of them to assume that curating my own fandom (and life) experience, and refusing to engage with things that trigger me, isn't something that I literally fucking learned in therapy lmao

Also, I find it funny how these are the people going around attacking people like me, who are literally minding our own motherfucking business, but then claim to preach “love and tolerism” and all this other bullshit. Karen, sweetie, only one of us is going around telling people they deserve to be murdered/stabbed for disagreeing with thier opinion about a videogame and pointing out that “hey, that’s...very yikes maybe don’t do that, step back and calm down” and it ain’t me (true story, this happened a couple of months ago and I don’t wanna dredge the post up because it’s very upsetting to think about) People are allowed to have opinions, and they don’t have to agree with your opinion just because that’s what you think, and the second that you sink to sending people death threats because they don’t share your opinion, you are, in fact, the asshole in that conversation.

It was even funnier because the person in question followed me first, I initially thought they were pretty cool so I followed back, then they threw a massive temper-tantrum and threw a bunch of very upsetting and triggering shit at me without my consent because I didn’t agree with them (I’d even put my opinions in tags on MY blog in an attempt to be courteous and not hijack their post with negativity, in hindsight perhaps I should have made my own post in the first place and I do acknowledge that BUT if that’s all they’d said I would have apologised and moved on, quite gladly, there was no need for them to explode the way they did at me for...making a mistake because I’m a stranger on the internet who didn’t know them & wasn’t a mind-reader and I happened to miss a trigger tag that I didn’t think of at the time lmao)

This post is getting awful long and rambly so I'm going to shut up now, but that's my take on it I guess, I hope that's what you were getting at and if it's not I apologise, I've been taking a huge step back and actively just avoiding any and all major posts related to this discourse as of a few months ago because it just infuriates and upsets me too much, it’s not worth the detriment to my mental health, I’m just here to make friends who are also hyperfixated on SWTOR and have fun vibing and talking about our characters, not get into one-sided morality debates with pearl-clutchers. 🤷

#swtor critical #fandom critical #jedi critical #tw: stabbing mention #tw: death threats #tw: genocide mention #elven rants #elven screams into the void #<< vent-y/ranty tags. block these + any specific faction/character criticals if you don't want to see posts like this #i think i've got all the triggers but if i've missed something just approach me like a normal human being and ask me to tag for it #and i will lmao that's literally in my blog's blurb but Some People can't read ig #🤷 #i'd even tag some of this as #purity culture bullshit #because imo that's what it boils down to in essence #''love and forgiveness the only morally good pure way to live hee hee anyone who does not do this exactly is Bad and Evil'' #i am begging you to find other braincells purity police. and then actually learn to USE THEM. please

[meetmeatthecoda]

Okay so, I wanted to offer my two cents on that ask about Liz’s reaction in Luther Braxton: Conclusion. This is NOT meant as an attack on anyone—I find it 100% valid that the OG nonny (and anyone who related to them, including you dear Coda 💖💖💖) feels the way they do; they can’t control how they reacted to Liz any more than I can control how I reacted to that ask. Plus like, this is all fiction so no harm done? I purely wish to share my perspective, not ~present a counterargument~ or anything like that. :) Apologies in advance for how long this got. 😅😅😅

I get why you would react negatively to Liz’s screaming at Red, but I feel like?? That incident of all the times she’s treated him unjustly was (one of?) the most reasonable. Now, how she continues to act afterwards (regarding the Fulcrum but also, like, for the rest of the show welp) is 100% a continued bad decision in so many ways on her part and reflects terribly on her character, but her reaction in the immediate aftermath?? IDK, I feel the need to kind of defend her, probably because I absoluuuutely saw myself in her when she did that. I’ve (I shamefully admit) yelled, shoved, and even kicked at loved ones when they just wanted to comfort me but their attempts made me feel cornered and small. I’ve made logically unbased and ethically/emotionally unfair accusations against people who’ve done nothing but try to help me when I just needed something to get them away (literally or otherwise). When I just needed to attack something—take out my frustrations and confusion and fear and anger on someone. (And if Liz was like that, she might have latched onto Red as her target because he was the closest thing—physically, emotionally, and even in relation to the cause of that confusion and anger itself.) I have inflicted real harm on people while in an unsettling or unfamiliar mental state—harm that I couldn’t take back even when I could look back with a clear(er) mind and realize I never should have said/done any of that.

(Also, side note: when I first watched that ep and I saw Liz screaming at Red not to touch her?? I’d actually thought they were depicting her as being touch-averse due to the trauma and/or overstimulation, and I was?!! Like, call me badly coping but I appreciate seeing characters not being comfortable or straight-up being aggressive about being touched, even for just a moment, because that is me 24/7. Then of course a few more seconds and it turns out it’s not actually that?? Liz is just repulsed by Red’s Bad Guyness again apparently?? Whenever I rewatch the ep I still choose to see it as overstimulation though because, well… my heart is clearly very talented at choosing comfort characters for me. 🥲🥲🥲)

So speaking from personal experience, coming out of a trauma (or revisiting an unresolved one) is so stressful that it’s only natural to react explosively—even to the extent of unfairness and unreasonableness—in an attempt to protect or heal yourself, whether that attempt be justified or not. And honestly, I could even make the argument that for Liz, her attempt was to some extent justified. Of course Red would never hurt her, but sometimes a person needs breathing space. Like, literally needs. Maybe for the sake of her mental stability/health, Liz should have had her first moments coming up from her trance to herself. Does that make sense?? IDK if I made any sense there; I just know that while I never could have gotten to the place I’m at now without the EVENTUAL professional and personal support I’ve been blessed with, I also can’t fathom how much more mental anguish I would have experienced if I’d had people who knew me (or like, the “closest person” in Liz’s case) see me in the immediate aftermath of my trauma. Just… The state I was in? Yikes, am I glad only I saw myself pull myself together; I’d have had so much more to worry about with others seeing me like that. That might just be me and totally inapplicable to Liz of course, so I digress!

I’m not saying Liz isn’t responsible for her words/actions simply because they happened while she was in utter emotional upheaval and under mental and physical duress—Red definitely did NOT deserve that treatment from her. He did NOTHING WRONG. But with that kind of complex angst comes the inevitably mixed but nonetheless potent reactions of fans, I completely understand that. Everyone has different experiences and thus different viewpoints, and that’s fine and totally healthy in my book. Still, something about that discussion struck a chord with me—you can (and should) hold someone accountable for the harm they do while mentally unstable, but it’s possible and also healthy to do that without, yourself, harboring anger or resentment against them, you know? I had to teach myself (and those around me) that, so I guess I just wanted to put it out there. Again, I don’t mean to start anything and I’m so, so sorry if I inadvertently have. I hope it’s okay that I came here to explain my thoughts (and so wordily too, ack I’m sorry), and if not, I won’t anymore. Thank you for hearing me out this time though, I really appreciate it. :)

Dear anon!! 🤗🥰❤️ Firstly, I want to thank you for your kindness & respect for other's opinions!! This ask was worded in the sweetest, most considerate way & I appreciate it very much!! There's absolutely no need to apologize for having your own opinion & perspective, especially when you share & explain it so nicely, so never fear!! 😊❤️ Moving on to the meat of your ask - which is in regards to this previous one - you make such a good point!! When you look at it that way, the Luther Braxton Post-Memory-Unearthing Screaming Explosion is perhaps Liz's most justifiable negative reaction in the series LOL I guess looking back from where we are now - knowing all about & being completely fed up with all of Liz's awful writing & characterization in the subsequent seasons - it's easy to dismiss her reaction in Luther Braxton as something unreasonable & irritating & unfair to Red (which, to some extent - as you graciously allow - it is). But - as you generously point out - while that's a valid way of looking at it, it's also definitely worth examining from another point of view!! And I think your point of view (in everything ofc, but particularly in this) is so valuable!! I can relate at least on some level... I have definitely snapped at people, even those trying to help me, verbally & otherwise, when I lost my temper & just needed some space!! In fact, I think that's a pretty universal stress reaction & it's not necessarily something to be super ashamed of (but definitely something to be aware of & work on - a good reminder for us all!!) & it's definitely not a stretch to imagine Liz was going through something similar after being effectively water-boarded & having her memories so unceremoniously rifled through!! And, after all, Liz has one thing we generally don't... a perfect, convenient, willing catalyst for all the negative things in her life: Red (however undeserving of that title he may be.)

(And re: sidenote of touch-averse!Liz - Omg, I definitely thought about that being their angle at first too!! While I don't usually default to reacting that way myself [kind of the opposite for me usually LOL] I know that plenty of people do & it's 1000% valid as a coping mechanism & honestly??? A touch-averse Liz would be one of the more realistic reactions she's ever had 😂😭 especially considering the circumstances!! And hey, no shame about gravitating towards that interpretation bc it's 1) less painful for you & 2) you like comfort characters bc you 👏 do 👏 you 👏 but also?? I can't say anything bc the reason that I like that interpretation??? I love the angst of an overwhelmed & touch-averse!Liz unintentionally shattering Red's heart by completely rejecting his well-meaning physical comfort anddddd I'm not sure what that says about me tbh 😂😂😂)

Long story short, anon, you made perfect sense here, not to worry!! You were so respectful & cognizant of others' feelings, thank you so much for that, it doesn't go unnoticed!! You bring such a good point to the discussion with your perspective & outlook & I'm so thankful you chose to contribute!! I loved reading your thoughts & don't worry at all about the length, I appreciate your thoroughness!! (Plus, we all know I'm hardly one to talk, I never use one word when twenty will do 😂) Please don't hesitate to come back to my inbox any time to discuss whatever you like, I always love a little bit of friendly TBL conversation, especially since the show as we know it is so abruptly & unexpectedly over 😭 Yes, still grappling with that, in case you were wondering 🥲 Anyway, thank you again for your lovely ask, anon, I appreciate you greatly, & much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #thoughts #speculation #theories #headcanons #Luther Braxton #mine #ask #anon #thank you for being so respectful dear anon!! #rest assured your opinion & perspective & POV are ALWAYS valued!! #and please come back anytime!! #:D #much love to you my friend!! #<3 #also lol @ me #saying last night that i'd be starting on my inbox #and then just #... #not #lmfao #sorry everyone #and this might be the only one i get to tonight as well #with nearly 30 sitting pretty in my inbox #but rest assured i WILL get to them asap!! #as soon as the stressful times in the Coda household wrap themselves up tomorrow LOL #much love y'all #<333