#(even if i have slipped a couple of times bc i am human)

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

i'm overwhelmed by the amount of positive comments i got on my latest fic! my heart goes out to all the survivors of sexual abuse, and i'm glad my fic has helped many of you process your own trauma. <3

[somebluemelodies]

almost gave up on writing this bc all my progress got deleted over a couple weeks ago but i am nothing if not determined (read: a stubborn shit) so i finally came back to rewrite cross-posted to ao3 here :>

As a kid, Roier was obsessed with the sea. He loved everything about it. Including the merfolk.

Every book about mer and their lore he could get a hold of, he read. They fascinated him to no end.

It's why he's never trusted the Federation. Why he never told his abuelo about his fascination. Roier knows what they do to the mer they capture.

His abuelo is a long-time Federation officer, and he remembers overhearing many a work-related discussion at night when he was younger, or reading his classified documents when he wasn't home.

The Federation "studies" mer, asking people that if they ever see a mer, to report the sighting to an officer. And by that, they experiment. All under the guise they preach to the public of "studying" them.

(Deepsea mer get it the worst. Labelled as aggressive, human-killing monsters, the Federation has made everyone fearful of them. Roier pushes everything he's ever read about a captured deepsea mer to the far back of his mind.)

(Surely they can't be that bad, can they?)

When Roier was old enough, he took off to live a life on the sea. A pirate, if you will, because that's what the Federation calls everyone smart enough to not conform to their overbearing ways. And he's been thoroughly enjoying his life ever since.

As it stands currently, he and the rest of the crew - friends, really - have been docked for a few days now for reparation and selling purposes. He tries to ignore the fact there's a plethora of Federation officers wandering the town, with a base of operations just outside of it, and instead spends much of his time wandering up and down the beach.

It's what he's doing this late afternoon. About to walk past a cave, a slight glint in his peripherals has him glancing into the mouth of the cave and freezing in his tracks.

Roier finds himself staring at a mer, who appears to be tangled in a net. Their tail almost looks black, but under the light of the sunset, he realizes the scales are actually the deepest emerald green he's ever seen. Looking around to make sure no one - no officer - is watching him, he slips inside.

His boots in the shallow water catch the attention of the mer, whose head snaps up at the sound. Piercing blue eyes almost seem to glow in the dim light, glaring daggers at him, and Roier freezes, holding his hands up. "I just want to help! I'm not here to hurt you or something. Can I help you?"

(Can the merman even understand him?)

The silent question is answered by the snarl on the mer's face gradually dropping, followed by a hesitant nod. His eyes continue to follow Roier closely, though, who tries to mask his surprise at the fact he's just been comprehended by a mer.

Kneeling next to the mer, he's able to make out more detail. Most notably, a bunch of scars, be it a long, thin one stretching across the bridge of his nose or the sheer amount littering his arms.

(It looks like there are more on his torso, but his arm is covering the lower half. Alarmingly, Roier swears he sees red underneath, too.)

(One step at a time.)

Roier pulls out his dagger, and starts the process of carefully cutting the merman free from the net. While doing so, he notices one signature detail of the net.

It's white.

"Did the Federation try to capture you?" he asks, sparing a brief glance up at the merman's handsome face. "And you managed to escape?"

(Focus. Focus.)

The mer nods. Roier sighs. "Fucking hate those guys, man."

He perks up a bit, as if to say "you too?" and the pirate offers a small smile in turn. But it fades after a moment. "I know what they do to you guys. It's not fair."

Silence befalls them, save for the slicing of his dagger against the net. It takes a bit, but he's finally able to pull the netting off of the mer and toss it off to the side.

The mer looks some semblance of thankful, although it turns to a grimace when he goes to move his arm that's been wrapped around his stomach this whole time, and it resumes its original place.

Roier frowns. "You're hurt. Let me see."

He doesn't move his arm, though, and it takes Roier gently prying it away so he can inspect the damage. Doing so reveals some type of stab wound, but from what, he isn't quite sure. It's not life-threatening, that much he also knows, but it's certainly bad enough to warrant concern.

(And he's very concerned.)

But he quickly realizes yet another problem. Said problem being that he has no medical supplies on him. Granted, he could go back to the ship for some, but that means either running into another member of the crew or worse... someone else stumbling upon this mer.

(Is it worth the risk?)

"Okay, bad news," he speaks up again. "I don't have any supplies to help you on me, but I might be able to--"

Roier is cut off by watching the mer reach for a satchel he didn't even realize the latter had. "Oh, shit-- Do you have your own supplies?"

The merman nods, but before he can take out any of the supplies on his own, the pirate is reaching out to take the satchel. "I can help you again," he offers. "It'll be a lot easier than trying to fix yourself, you know?"

He seems surprised by the offer, but holds out the satchel after a few moments, watching him with a look Roier can't quite decipher.

(Apprehension? Fondness? Incredulousness?)

(All he knows is those bright eyes are a lot less scary than they've been made out to be.)

The patching-up process takes a little longer than the untangling, and Roier has to light up the lantern he brought with him now that the sun has set, but he finally finds himself wrapping the mer's torso, sitting back slightly on his knees to inspect his work. "I think that should do it. Just... be careful, okay?"

Another nod, and Roier takes another few moments to study him. Between the glowing eyes and the scars, the slight rips in some of his fins, thinking about his initial attitude...

"Are you a deepsea mer?" he asks after a beat.

The mer freezes, watching him closely and seeming to scan him for any signs of hostility. Roier only looks back at him, though, making no subtle movements, and he finally nods slowly.

Roier hums. "I figured. But for all the Federation talk about you guys being ugly monsters... you look like the opposite." The merman looks stunned. "You're... very pretty, you know? Handsome."

(Beautiful, even.)

It's his turn to be surprised when the mer smiles for the first time. A relatively small smile, but one nevertheless, and it's one that makes something warm start to bloom in his chest, everything feeling just a little fuzzy.

The mer then picks up his satchel again, rummaging through it until he pulls something out. He grabs one of Roier's hands, holding it up and gently placing something smooth in his palm before closing his fingers around it.

(Roier mourns the loss of the brief contact, and then immediately mentally kicks himself in the ass for the fact.)

("Please be careful, okay?" Another nod.)

With the high tide coming into the cave, the merman is able to start making his way out with relative ease, sparing a brief glance back to Roier and waving before disappearing under the water with a glint of emerald under the moonlight.

For several moments, he stands there in silence, processing. And then, he looks down at his hand, opening it.

A sizeable piece of dark green sea glass rests in his palm, and he can't help the smile that etches its way onto his face.

The pirate carefully pockets it, and, on his way back to the ship, can only hope to whatever god is listening that this isn't the end, but only something just beginning.

[doonarose]

I see your "they didn't speak for years + flashbacks to the two times they tried" and I raise you: they meet for what looks like the first time after years, aziraphale with angels behind him and crowley with demons behind him (bc he Duked up as you put it) and they appear to be angry at each other, barely speaking to each other at this official meeting, but then we get a series of flashbacks revealing they've actually been meeting in secret all this time and planning everything, their own side (+humans) against heaven and hell. But they haven't fixed their relationship yet or even talked about it, no time for that until the second coming is averted.

I am so fully here for this. But also... and I'm fuzzy on this because I think I thought of it this morning at 4am as I was trying to fall back asleep. What if they hadn't found time to fix their relationship in all their secret plotting, but had managed to find some time for making out because do we really think Aziraphale's going to be able to stop himself? I mean if Crowley doesn't (and Crowley won't)?

So like, a desperate, frantic, talking-over-the-top of each other, snarling and sniping and clashing type meeting in the back corner of a dimly lit pub. And absolutely no acknowledgement of the fact that Crowley's eyes are still in agony behind the glasses, nor the fact that Aziraphale hardly notices because he's stuck staring at Crowley's mouth, and then his hands, and then his mouth again. Coming up with the 'save the world' 'work together because we have to' plan but every single moment they are together risks everything and they know that. And then no words, plan in place, on their feet and out the front door of the pub, Crowley first and Aziraphale a couple of feet behind. It'd be pitch black night, strong winds and sleeting rain and Aziraphale would grab him by the wrist, spin him around and busy his other hand in Crowley's hair to kiss him fiercely, quickly, much quicker than last time. A shock to both of them, nothing on purpose or planned or rationale and then Aziraphale stops, pulls his mouth back but leaves his hands still grasping Crowley close. And then Crowley meeting him halfway, something rough and needy slipping from his lips across Aziraphale's tongue as they really kiss. Long and deep and demanding, sating unquenchable thirst as best they can even though they can't acknowledge it, can't fix anything, not in the confines on their current existence, can't even really be doing this, it's such a risk, such a poor use of their little time together, and yet, they must.

And then Crowley pushing Aziraphale back, gently, absurdly gently, with hands petting over him, smoothing his waistcoat and straightening his tie, all of it with the weight of that once-confessed caring. Before they turn and head off in opposite directions with no idea when they'll see each other again, and no idea what any of it really means. Except that it - them, the world, this existence - feels like it means everything.

[prettysweetprettysweet]

was anybody else a teenager when Brokeback Mountain came out? god that movie's journey was an exhilarating and terrifying experience for me as a gay kid. i was 14 when it was released. it might as well have been the First Gay Movie Ever. i was obsessed with tracking its progress, from Focus Features optioning the script to Heath and Jake being cast, all the way through to the Oscars. i taped and rewatched the Logo promo special on it dozens of times as well as the Oprah special, and hid the tapes under my bed. i watched every single major awards show. i read commentators opining in award show editorials that the movie wasn't good and the only reason it was getting attention was because it was about gay cowboys. i swelled with pride and a bone-deep gratitude listening to Heath talk about the film and his character. that recent quote that goes around now from Jake reflecting that Heath wouldn't allow people to make fun of it or demean it in any way - I love to see it because he really was so bold and clear about it that I realized it even at 14 years old. he felt like a protector to me.

i realize now i was using it as a barometer to gauge the homophobia around me. i listened in like a fly on the wall whenever people around me talked about it. it was always jokingly and sometimes cruelly. there was a period of time at my school where boys were printing out the promo poster, cutting out photos of other classmates and pasting them onto Heath and Jake's face and then sticking them to lockers. the first time i saw one i was walking down the stairs and glanced up and saw it posted on a bulletin board. it felt like a slap to the face, completely out of nowhere. without even thinking i went from seeing it one fraction of a second to ripping it off the wall the next, and i balled it up and threw it in the trash. i did that with every one I saw (covertly, making a mental note of them during the day and using bathroom trips during classes to take them down).

when i went to see it in theaters (after school i bought a ticket for another movie bc i was underage and then slipped into the theater quietly) i was one of five people in the audience. two of them (a couple) ended up walking out after the sex scene. for the entire duration of the screening this teenage boy showed up every twenty-or-so minutes to pull the heavy entrance door open and then shove it shut, creating a huge cacophonous bang that scared me senseless the first time it happened. i was absolutely bowled over by the sex scene. i was bowled over by the intimacy of every scene between them. i didn't contextualize it at the time but it was because i had never, ever seen a piece of media that imbued a portrayal of affection, love, and desire between men with such sincerity and humanity. i swear it rewired my brain. i later bought the dvd from a knock-off dvd seller on the street in Manhattan for four dollars and hid that as well.

when Heath Ledger died i cried for two days straight, which I tried to hide unsuccessfully. for some reason the fact that I was crying over him made my step dad very angry and he harassed me about it and complained to my mom all day. i didn't pay any attention to him and continued to grieve the loss of someone that, as a kid, i felt had directly acknowledged my struggle with the shame and fear caused by my homosexuality, and facilitated bringing my identity into focus in a caring and deeply thoughtful way. brokeback mountain was an extraordinary experience for me because on one hand, it pulled out the ugliness and hate that existed in my environment, but on the other, it gifted me my first real feeling of being seen and understood. the memory of that experience is so strong and visceral to me still that I'm not able to watch the movie anymore without triggering waves of intense emotions, and because that overwhelms me, I don't watch the movie anymore. but i have so much affection for it. i am filled with affection for it.

[quidfree]

Weird question: In both Papenathy and Todobaku, who would notice first if their partner got replaced/possessed by an imposter (presumably with malicious intentions) and how?

this is sooooo fun as a q actually but i could go on abt it forever bc IT DEPENDS ON CONTEXT. so im trying to be very restrained here and just go w the overall most likely outcomes. but know that i am so into this hypothetical mwah

papenathy:

this took me some vacillating bc we get several canon bits where richard thinks he has everything figured out and then francis yanks the rug out from under him / turns out to have a better read on richard than richard has on him. BUT because richard is marginally less self involved i think he has to take the win here bc francis literally didn’t even notice his being shot while in the same room as him.

HOW richard would figure it out is actually the difficult bit here. bc francis can be sneaky / cruel / manipulative as setting demands so none of that would be ooc per se. i think either the ominous impostor just overdoes it personality wise (à la fanon francis lol) and is like, too flirty or too clingy or too whatever and richard gets hives, or it’s one of those minute detail things. like the impostor actually is a very studied copycat and there’s nothing overt, and every mistake just feels like normal human weirdness, but then in some intensely specific situation fake francis does something like use a shoehorn when francis always slips his shoes on with a finger to the heel, or henry goes on one of his grammatical monologues and instead of shooting richard a speaking look from across the room francis isn’t even listening and richard just gets this sudden screaming alarm bell ringing in the back of his head. his way of testing the theory is by having someone call francis and see if he lunges for the phone or not.

if this is in established couple territory itd be easier bc theyre more in tune. lots of more little things to pick up. especially the uglies theyve gotten used to working around. fake francis doesn’t cover his abused wrists enough or doesn’t steal richard’s well-worn hampden shirt for bedclothes sometimes or doesn’t press down on the well-healed bullet scar with gentle cruelty.

also if francis is the one who clocks an impostor i feel like it’d be comically fast for a really petty reason. like fake richard being too normal. or actually straight! “oh i could tell it wasn’t you right away he was entirely unattracted to me”

todobaku:

this is tougher on who would notice first bc they both very well could. i guess again it depends on how good the impostor is at acting like them. bc i feel like katsuki would be the underrated victor at detecting shouto acting just a fraction off, but if the impostor is really good then probably fake shouto would be harder to read and so shouto would call it on fake katsuki first.

how they figure it out depends on if the impostor is good, again. in their case i assume it’s a villain w a quirk type situation (doesn’t toga literally shapeshift) so if it’s a sloppy impression i expect they catch on within like five minutes of entering a room and waste no time in attacking the impostor as everyone else there protests in shock. afterwards when people ask how they knew so fast theyre just like… “todoroki would NEVER coordinate his shirt and his shoes that well.” or “i smiled at bakugou when i walked in and he smiled back. it was like a nightmare.” PR tries to run with a heartwarming friendship narrative despite these quotes.

if the villain is better than that, as above, the noticing is in the subtleties, and bc theyre both ptsd-laden hypervigilant professional superheroes who have been fighting together since long before they were friends i think maybe it’d be out in the field that they’d catch on. shouto stands next to a bakugou who doesn’t roll his shoulders just-so before locking into his gauntlets and immediately goes silently hyperfocused, just waiting for the next slip-up to confirm his gut feeling. katsuki watches a todoroki pull a combo move starting from the wrong side and does the same.

[having-conniptions]

KinnPorsche ep 13 Rewatch Rambles:

The op always gets me so pumped

OH HOLD ON OH FUCK I NEED TO PAUSE 1 SECOND INTO THE EPISODE BECAUSE I KNOW VEGAS IS ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING THAT MADE ME HAVE TO PAUSE 5 SECONDS INTO THE EPISODE THE FIRST TIME AROUND BC I NEEDED TO COLLECT MYSELF

I AM NOT READY

SO I'LL JUST BE STARING AT VEGAS AND PETE HOLDING HANDS AND LOOKING SOFT AND PRETTY

Also I wanna know when and how Vegas put the one handcuff back on Pete's wrist I NEED TO KNOW

"Do you know how sexy you are?" WELL VEGAS DO YOU KNOW? BECAUSE AAAAAAAAAA *yeets myself into the sun*

And Vegas' thumb gently stroking Pete's palm?? why is the most unhinged couple also the most sensual and soft one I am going to flip

Vegas honey you're still a freak

The way he looks at Pete, the way he smiles at him... 😭❤️

Omg the "lunch with dad" scene aaaahhh the awkwardness

Also the lack of communication between Kinn and Porsche YET AGAIN

VEGAS COOKING FOR PETE AND HAVING HIS INGREDIENTS PREPPED AND READY TO GO LIKE THE WIFEY THAT HE IS

AND HE LOOKS SO HAPPY WHILE DOING IT 😭❤️ and the food looks sooooo good

Sorry I'll be very annoying about VP in this ep

Homophobic Dad™️ interrupts yet again and Vegas goes straight back to hurt little boy mode (but with a touch of sass this time)

Kinn trying to communicate but being unable to do so without flirting is so on-brand

Side note: Porsche bounces his leg when he's stressed

TALK TO EACH OTHER

Nooooo I can't go through the VP drama again

When Vegas sits down next to Pete and they look at each other you can tell something has changed for both of them. Something has shifted. Holy fuck this hurts

Vegas trying soooo hard not to lose it in front of Pete even though it wouldn't be the first time, the shift in their dynamic and Vegas' fear of vulnerability making him overcompensate with anger and violence, Pete switching from "hopeful" to "just fucking kill me" because all he really wants is to get out of there, with or without Vegas, dead or alive, he's confused, he's overwhelmed, he's hurt, he's ashamed, WILL THIS COUPLE EVER STOP MAKING ME INSANE? NO

Again Tankhun is the only one with at least one braincell

VEGAS' FACE WHEN PETE SAYS "NOT EVEN MY HUMANITY" HE LOOKS LIKE HE'S ABOUT TO PASS OUT HE REALIZED WHAT HE'S DONE AND AS SOON AS PETE STARTS WITH THE SELF-HATE VEGAS IS SCARED OUT OF HIS MIND HE IS SO SCARED TO HURT HIM EVEN MORE SO SCARED TO LOSE HIM

The harder you hold on to something the more it slips away huh

The way Pete gingerly touches Vegas' face one last time before apologizing and knocking him out I AM GOING INSANE

Khun's funeral outfit kinda slays

If I fully believed Pete was dead I'd cry like that too

Porsche hiding behind Kinn's back by climbing him like a tree will never not be funny

This show switches between angst and comedy so effortlessly istg

Speaking of which, back to angst.

"Tell me who did it, I'll handle it right away" oooooh but Pete doesn't want that does he

"Please believe me. I'm asking you" 😭😭😭 basically please stop asking bc I don't know how much longer I can hold it together if I have to keep lying to you

Kim come on wtf did you expect

THE POLAROIDS 😭 they were together for longer than the show made it look like huh?

Kim fucked up but still it hurts to see him cry

And then it cuts to Vegas sitting alone in front of TWO (2) plates with rice and several bowls of toppings

AND THE WHOLE TIME THE BREAKUP SONG IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

And Vegas is crying into his rice and Pete is crying into his noodles and I am suddenly obsessed with Pete's hands

PORSCHE! TALK TO KINN YOU IDIOT

Pete looks so good wearing jewelry aaaaa and that shirt (I want it) he's so pretty wtf

"And this is for Pete." Porsche is literally bestie goals I fucking love him

"I was blinded by the adults" newsflash Vegas you're an adult too

"SHOOT ME!" whyyyy does VegasPete have to hurt so fucking much

Pete ugly sobbing into Vegas' shoulder was so fucking raw

Porsche knows Kinn's schedule by heart awww

Kinn "meeting" Porsche's parents and immediately shit-talking Porsche hahahahahah

SAPPY KINN AND FLUSTERED PORSCHE 😭❤️

Oh I almost forgot about the balcony pool scene

I can NOT see this scene the same way ever since I noticed the huge "Deutsche Bank" sign in the background it's too distracting 😂

The way Porsche softly caresses Kinn's face while he sleeps and then gets interrupted by a text from Vegas 😭

Kim is worried 👀

Scumbag uncle is still a scumbag but at least he was telling the truth

Wish we could have explored the Vegas & Porsche vs Kinn & Pete dynamic more tbh u know just for the angst

Someone gotta tune that piano

Not Korn having Porsche believe he's Kinn's cousin for a hot second

[cosmicsnowleopardcrusader]

I saw a furry brown skinned male feline lyran (same color as my new brown eye shadow ‘fawn’ from glossier) and he had huge blue/grey eyes and hair dreads exactly like lil durk - that matched his furry skin color. He was so vivid. His energy felt so kind and caring and careful.

I also remember being on a tram that turned into a magical bus - then a pod of 1– that I was flying so vividly- there wasn’t really anything to hang on to, I was basically close to falling out the whole time it felt. In my current earth life, Ive been on a mission to lucid dream more and more— and to consciously catch myself mid-dream so I could see things from a new perspective. I DID THAT WHILE I WAS FLYING!!!!! I was like whoa I’m back in the dream flying and I’m aware of it happening. So We were trying to escape. I was with dad Jack and someone else at dads we had a team of AI or dark programmed people who claimed to be watching us- the soldiers included guys my age plus older guards. I was soooo horrified and scared in the dream… like pure terror. I was afraid to die.. just the pain, not the death itself. I wanted it to be over with.

At one point I was standing where dad’s old playground was and a massive rectangle piece of what HAD to be tenants of a space station blown to bits (and what felt like the size of 2 cruise lines wide / long) that was about to be slammed down onto the ground (not sure by what— I feel like it was just humans and crazy ancient giant war planes in the sky so I can’t tell where the evil source was. I saw the giant cement like war scrap coming down to be slammed (slow motion like a video game) and knew it was gonna miss me but when it slammed down I saw hundreds of thousands of people get smushed. Some even just injured and not killed- which scared me even more in the dream. I knew once I died, it wouldn’t even hurt and I would flow right I to another life or place. I knew I was in a dream in that way. I just wanted to die so much so the horror would be over, but I kept escaping and surviving. Looking back, if this was a movie, there’s no way I would’ve survived. Time after time the evil kept coming in the dream and I was terrified. Until all the sudden, everything seemed to be over, and the military guys were just actors trying to book flights home lol.

At one point I remember dad and Jack still alive, it was suuuuuper rainy and slippery at one point and I was scared dad was gonna slip and fall.

And at the end I had found a new love who seemed so familiar that our hearts telepathically knew we were destined to be together and we didn’t have to say any words. Im sad to wake up from that part of the dream bc it felt as real as the terror.

At some point the experiment during the battle was over and I survived through attacks and I was vibing with one of the men who was hired to be there— a soldier of sorts— it’s almost like they were actors… and the war scene was over— anyway I fell in love with him at first sight, we had a kiss toward the end and after the kiss I overheard him tell his other female teammate “I’m goin to Omaha” which meant he was booking a one way flight to stay with me and start a new life— bc I had felt that connection with him and I felt safe. And I felt like he was real now and not the soldier from earlier lol. I remember the female soldier he told kinda rolled her eyes and laughed like “really soldier” but it felt perfect and I felt sooooo connected with him even when we weren’t in the same room.

In the end of the dream, once I figured out I’m still alive and not meant to die in that game, I went thru my things in my room I was staying in, only took a couple things, I remember thinning- “oh where I’m going I don’t even need any of that”

Why am I always packing / heading back to Omaha at the end of every dream?!

The man reminded me of Mikey Purlingy— my cubs bleacher buddy I meant last summer lol

[realthoughtsrawemotions]

I’ve had this awareness of a voice inside my head ever since I was about 8 or 9 years old. It would get really judgmental and I would get irritated at this judgement. It was like I was at war with myself all the time. Throughout my childhood I learned to build confidence through praying to God. I was raised Catholic but could never relate to the man in the sky. I just deeply held that voice in my head and trusted that it was God. God was like a benevolent best friend to me. When I needed to make a tackle in football I prayed to God quickly closed my eyes and to my disbelief I would make the tackle and was taken care of. I lived like this all throughout my teenage years as I learned to trust this voice inside. This helped tremendously with wrestling and jiu jitsu.

I was also exposed to the movie the Secret at around 14 years old. This really helped me connect with this voice inside and trust in the Universe. With this spiritual wisdom and my religious upbringing I was able to overcome many obstacles throughout high school and succeed in many areas, including school and athletics. Towards the middle of my second year of University I fell into a deep depression and I didn’t know why. I had moved from British Columbia to Alberta and thought that Edmonton was the problem. So I walked away from a full ride scholarship for wrestling back home with my parents hoping to get a scholarship at SFU back in BC. Of course I fell into an even deeper depression. I now had no team support and I felt distant from all my friends. My grades dropped dramatically and I actually got to a point where I wasn’t wrestling as much.

I remember one day I was so upset my friend took me from the gym in the middle of our workout and took me to a wharf alongside some water. I spilled my heart out that I felt like a loser and that I couldn’t get a girlfriend. That I had no value in life and everything was slipping away from me. I told her that after my grandpa had died a couple years prior that I was never able to truly be happy and that I lost my spark. I lost myself. As I was saying this a crow appeared and inched its way closer to us. It got within an arms length away and bobbed its head towards us. We could both feel the presence of my grandpa in that crow and suddenly I started crying uncontrollably. My friend held me and I completely let go of everything. All the grief. All the pain. I just let it all go in that moment. I got this sudden urge to bring flowers to my grandma from my deceased grandpa since it was Mother’s Day that day.

After that day my life took a completely different trajectory. I gained an immense amount of confidence and I became absolutely fascinated with esoteric knowledge and was just a student of life. I dove even deeper into law of attraction books with a childlike fascination and joy. I met my current girlfriend a week after that day. We’ve been together almost 7 years (May. 13, 2017). I was able to get back in the flow of life and became motivated to start going back to wrestling practices and got onto the starting line up for the SFU wrestling team. I turned my GPA from a 1.8 to a 3.6 and I finally had the courage and confidence to get certified as a personal trainer. Instead of being stuck in between degrees (kinesiology, behavioural neuroscience) I fell in love with psychology and took so many amazing fun courses and graduated with my psychology degree. Without going into too much further since even since this time I have suffered greatly and couldn’t really get into every experience without making this a novel.

I am currently going through a spiritual depression. A dark night of the soul. May of 2023 I had an extremely profound mushroom trip where I was asked if I wanted to meet God and see Heaven. A deeper voice outside of me that was witnessing me asked me this question. My human head nodded yes. The voice added “if you wish to meet God and see Heaven then you must also meet the Devil and see Hell”. Again my human head nodded and off I went on my journey. I suddenly could see everything. I could see behind houses and into the sky. The world looks so much bigger and more intricate. I became immensely present. I walked into a cemetery and immediately felt the weight and the energy of this place. I started to feel a deep sadness and almost got completely wrapped into it. I was worried I would lose my mind completely. I surrendered anyways. Then I suddenly had a realization that I don’t have to stay here. That I don’t have to stay in hell and that hell is a state of mind. Hell is what I experience when I become toxicly attracted to my desires and deathly afraid of my fears. I realized that I could still experience all the beautiful things in life I just had to walk the middle path. I could live life from a place of service and gratitude. I could love everything with my entire heart and see the beauty in everything. I walked over to a park and fell of the ground collapsing with joy. I stopped trying. I truly let go and surrendered. I didn’t even want to put in the effort to keep myself upright. I had a smile so wide on my face. I actually couldn’t remove it nor did I want to. I let of all of my worries and fears. I was truly blissful. I looked up into the sky and saw Heaven. The sky and clouds swirled with sacred geometry. I saw God in the sky too but it wasn’t a figure. It’s so hard to explain but it was like a feeling but deeper. It was a knowing that everything was perfect. That everything in my life was led up into this moment and that I was one with everything around me. That I could rest in the moment for infinity and I could go back to the source.

Again I was given a choice. That higher voice of consciousness that spoke to me earlier. Interestingly enough it was the same voice I heard as a 9 year old boy and the same voice I trusted and called God in my teenage years that led me through football, wrestling and jiu-jitsu. That voice asked me if I wanted to go back to earth and go back to my life or go back to the source and stay in infinite love forever. That voice was very kind. It reminded me that even if I go back to my life that I can always come back and ultimately all of humanity and everything in creation will eventually come back to the source as one. Enough lifetimes and lessons and pain and joy and eventually we will all merge back into the source. Into Heaven. And that if I ever wanted a taste of this Heaven after going back to my life I can always go within and there will find it. Then I started laughs loudly with joy and I fell over again with complete amusement and happiness. Heaven was inside of me this whole time. Man has looked up to the sky and the stars and yet it has and always is so close. Right inside of us. Inside of me. I concentrated my energy into the middle of forehead. That’s how close Heaven was to me. I chose to go back to my life fully knowing that I would get hurt again by my own desires and fears. I knew now that this was all part of the divine plan and that ultimately it would all be ok and that we would all be led to this living divine source one day and to enjoy this beautiful and challenging experience of being human.

Since then I have struggled a lot. I’ve had highs and lows and again it would be hard to get into specific without making it a novel. Currently I feel like I’m at a crossroads in life. I know that I have this source within me and that it’s in all of us. I still hear the voice within but lately it’s been more of the ego speaking. I am aware of it so at least I’m conscious but it’s been hard to connect with God or true awareness/consciousness. Sometimes on this journey it gets so lonely. It’s weird I’ve hard experiences of oneness yet at times feel so disconnected with everyone and everything. Sometimes I can connect with others very deeply and often times with nature very deeply. Still I feel this longing to understand this voice and to let the voice of the ego go. It gets really loud in my head sometimes and I want to get clear and let go of my demons and my negativity. I am determined to find peace in this world and to understand this voice inside and make friends with it once again. This is my journey of self discovery. This is my life.

[moonchildstyles]

I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort and vamp Harry. I love the idea of this bond they have, that maybe he can feel when something’s wrong with yn, like especially something physical. Like maybe he’s in an important negotiation with an art curator, so when yn slips on some ice while out running errands she doesn’t want to bother him and calls Niall from the hospital. But Harry is starting to panic because his head is killing him and pain is radiating all the way from his right ankle up to his hip. He’s already trying to wrap up the meeting when Niall calls like, “don’t freak out, buuut…” and you know he would be out that door and fretting over his little human. Or maybe he had to take a quick trip to Italy and gradually throughout the day his head is feeling fuzzy and his chest hurts. And it doesn’t help that yn isn’t answering her phone! So he send Niall over and, well, yn is nearly delusional with a fever. Maybe she has like pneumonia or C**** and Harry’s trying to rush back because he did not live through centuries of plagues and diseases for his love to get ill on his watch. And just a lot of fretting and fussing and cuddling. I just miss my devoted vampy!

Omg wait wait wait🥺🥺🥺🥺 like maybe it’s not a super clear indicator like he can’t be like oh shit her arms broken or something but he just knows when something is a little off like it’s esp strong in the days after he bites but omg the thought of him going out to Italy for a quick trip and she opted to stay behind bc she’s just feeling a little exhausted from traveling already this month so she wants to sleep and she’ll see him in a couple of days:( but soon that exhausted feeling turns into her head hurting all the time no matter how much water she drinks and how much she sleeps and then she has a runny nose and her muscles ache and a sore throat and she’s just :( oh no:( h still has a couple of days until he’ll be home and she doesn’t want to worry him bc she knows how frantic he gets when she’s even just a little dehydrated so she ends up calling Niall like okay please don’t tell Harry yet but could you possibly run to the store for me and pick up this this and this I don’t feel good and but before she finishes it’s just…it’s hard to like acknowledge that she isn’t feeling good bc her head hurt so bad already and just hearing herself tell someone how bad she feels she gets a little teary and sorry Niall I just don’t feel good and I need some stuff but please don’t tell Harry yet:( and ofc Niall is so understanding and she can hear his concern when he asks “and u don’t want me to tell h? Are u sure?” And I’m sure I’m sure! I’m going to tell him soon he’s just busy rn I don’t want him to freak out and they both know that he does Freak Out but even tho she can tell niall doesn’t really want to keep this from him he still tells her okay I’ll be over soon w all ur things and y/n ends up falling asleep after but it’s h that’s starting to restless when he’s in the middle of a private consultation with a client like his head feels lots of pressure and his throat aches the way it does when he knows he’ll need to bite in a couple of days but he knows that’s not right he bit y/n just before he left so then he starts getting worried bc if this is what he thinks it is….so he excuses himself for a moment calls y/n only to have all of his calls go unanswered and now he’s getting really nervous bc what if something happened he should have stayed home w her or told her she needed to come with him and ofc his worst fears are that something terrible has happened and even tho she’s wrapped up in his scent 24/7 now that one of the blood children got a whiff and now he’s going to come home to a horror scene and oh god he should have stayed at the manor this isn’t even important who cares ab this fucking painting he needs to go go go and he’s already going back to the consultation prepared to cut it short and go home and then h gets a call and he’s thinking it’s y/n until he sees Niall’s name and what? He snaps bc now is not the time!!!! And Niall just sighs and now don’t get upset but….and Niall doesn’t get to finish before h is all What!!!!!! Is wrong w y/n what happened let me talk to her I need to know she’s okay and Niall’s like okay okay I’m not w her rn she’s sleeping at the manor but she’s pretty sick she could barely talk when she called me earlier was telling me how she didn’t want to make u worry since you’re not home and h…if he wasn’t so sure his heart was just a block of ice in his chest he would have sworn it broke in half as he tried to keep his tears back bc his love didn’t want to tell him she was feeling sick bc she didn’t want to bother him what kind of mate is he????? So he just very calmly is “okay. Thank u for telling me” and hangs up the phone before he’s back in that meeting and I have to go I’ll call you at a later date and that’s it he’s got nothing else on his mind but his love and getting back to the manor and taking care of her the way he should but he keeps calling and leaving messages and sending texts the whole way home telling her he’s on his way and that he loves her and he’s so sorry

and he’s just a nervous wreck constantly monitoring if the fuzz in his own head gets worse or if his throat feels any drier in case she’s feeling worse until he’s back at the manor and in their bedroom and he sees her under a lump of covers just her hair sticking out and some medicine and water on the bedside table and he’s so relieved he feels himself tear up now that he can hear her heartbeat and her breathing and god he hopes she’s having wonderful dreams bc she deserves if she deserves so much:( and when he crawls on the bed w her and feels her forehead and the fever she’s got he feels a bit of guilty pleasure bc this means he can wrap her up in his arms and not worry ab making her chilly from his skin and he’s slipping under the covers w her burying his face in her neck and kissing all over her pulse and telling her he loves hef sososos much even tho she’s still asleep but he just…he’s going to take such good care of her when she wakes up he knows it he knows exactly the soup to make her and he’ll make sure she takes her medicine and drink water and he’s skin to skin contact can make her feel better too so he’s already planning how he’s going to shower and cuddle w her and just 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I love him🥺🥺 

[sugarybitterness]

teenage dream - natasha romanoff x reader

request; hi!!! idk if you are taking song requests, but could I request some nat x reader based on teenage dream by katy perry??

word count; 1,386

warnings; black widow spoilers!! mentions of past abuse, trauma and experimentation

a/n; tooth rotting fluff bcs i am forever and always soft for natasha romanoff!! hope y’all enjoy this~ feedback is always appreciated <3

i know you get me, so i let my walls come down // you brought me to life

growing up as a hydra experiment meant you had a pretty nonexistent childhood. the team believed that it was your shared lack of childhood that allowed you and natasha to be so close. the team weren’t all wrong, the fact that both of you had a similar past definitely helped you have a deep mutual understanding of each other. but it was also the thrill of it all, because when you were together, you both felt so free, so alive. you felt things for and with natasha that you never even knew the name of.

natasha has seen you at your worst, literally. beaten and close to death in a hydra cell was not the kind of first impression you’d wish to have with anyone. you’ve seen her at her worst too, when she’s so overcome with emotions that her automatic response was to shut down. but you never pushed, you just made sure you were there, ready to give her whatever she needed or wanted. turns out a lot of times she just wanted to be held, your arms were her safe space. both of you had your walls built high but when it was just the two of you, the walls came tumbling down and you knew that no one else would see you like natasha did.

now every february you’ll be my valentine // no regrets, just love

you used to hate february, because it was the month you got adopted by hydra agents with the promise of a family but instead you were made into an experiment. ironically, you were saved on the 14th of february, something you didn’t learn until you were dragged out by natasha to go shopping for a gift for yourself. she explained that she wanted to commemorate the one year mark of you being rescued and joining SHIELD, who were you to say no? as if you could ever say no to natasha to begin with.

you ended up getting your ears pierced and went home with a pair of emerald green gem earrings which reminded you of natasha’s eyes. you never took them off, not until she gave you another pair of earrings a year later, just that it was no longer just the anniversary of you meeting, it was also a valentine’s day gift. it became a trend, for her to get you earrings every year on the 14th of february. except for the one year she pulled out a ring whilst on one knee to propose. of course you said yes, no regrets, no hesitation because it was natasha and when you were with natasha all you could feel was love.

you and i, will be young forever // you make me feel like i’m living a teenage dream

it was safe to say that your inner child came out when with natasha. with the others, you were always hesitant to act out that way in fear of being judged. but for some reason unknown to you, it was never like that with natasha. while the red room took away most of the redhead’s childhood, natasha clung to several memories from her time in ohio or when she was sent undercover for certain missions as child. she knew that unlike her, you were kept in a cell, the most normal thing you experienced was the classes you had with other kids, kids who eventually didn’t survive hydra’s experiments.

so natasha made it a point to do things with you, bringing you to amusement parks, arcades and all the fun things you had missed out on. not only does she enjoy seeing your childlike wonder, being able to bask in such moments of normalcy feels like a dream most days.

let’s run away and don’t ever look back

loud laughter echoed through the halls as you ran away from wanda who was hot on your tail. you had stumbled onto her cuddling into vision, fast asleep whilst the android was watching a sitcom. you had snapped a picture but accidentally left the flash on, so now wanda was chasing you down to get you to delete said picture.

you made a sharp turn and collided straight into natasha who was quick to steady you. when you heard your best friend’s shouts way too close for your liking, you hurried behind natasha, using her as a human shield. wanda rounded the corner and she gulped visibly when she natasha standing there, an amused smile on her face.

“natttt, y/n took an unflattering picture of me!” wanda whined as she glared at you. you rolled your eyes in response.

“it was a cute picture!” you defended yourself, arms snaking around your fiancée’s waist, knowing wanda wouldn’t dare cross the redhead. natasha just shook her head as she prepared to play peacemaker between the two of you, this happened more times than she could count but she also knew you and wanda would go back to normal within a couple hours or so. the two of you always acted like siblings, teasing each other and getting the other riled up.

my heart stops when you look at me

it was finally the day. after months of planning and praying that no alien invasion would disrupt your wedding, you were finally getting married to natasha. it was a simple ceremony, just the two of you and the avengers family as well as natasha’s family. when natasha received the strange red color vials from yelena, she was quick to track down her younger sister. much to the team’s annoyance, natasha insisted that she wanted to do it alone only allowing you to tag along because god knows what you would’ve done if natasha snuck out behind your back. you and yelena became fast friends, and after the red room was properly destroyed she was recruited into the avengers.

now, as clint walked you out of the back door of tony’s lake house to where the ceremony was being held in his backyard, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped in that very moment. natasha was dressed in a beautiful white dress, it was simple and fit her body beautifully. natasha took one look at you and willed herself not to cry, you looked absolutely breathtaking and she couldn’t believe that you were hers.

i finally found you, my missing puzzle piece // i’m complete

the ceremony went smoothly, and now it was time for the vows. natasha gave hers first, and her grip on your hands was tight as she spoke. when she was done, you were quick to pull her hands up to your lips to plant a soft kiss on her knuckles. taking a deep breath, you started on your own vows.

“natasha romanoff, i vow to be with you through all the good and the bad. to be with you at our happiest times and also at our lowest. you saved me all those years ago, at a point in time where i thought that being in a cell was going to be all my future had to offer. you saw something in me that not even i could see, you believed in me when i didn’t even believe myself. everyday, you continue to save me, love me and for that i am so eternally thankful. i finally found the one person that makes life worth living, you’re the one that makes everything make sense, you are my missing puzzle piece. you complete me in a way i never thought plausible. so thank you for never giving up on me and i vow to be with you through it all, to always be with you whenever you need me. to make you your coffee just the way you like it or tea if it’s late and you want to relax. i will always treasure you and love you, thank you for being my everything, for forever and always.”

when the pastor finally pronounced you two as married, you met in a sweet kiss, tears slipping down both your cheeks.

in a lifetime where it felt like love and a life such as this was simply a dream, the two of you found each other and made dreams become a reality.

[c-is-for-circinate]

So as close as I am to fully escaping Hades for the first time, I figure I might take this opportunity to write down a couple of things I'm scared of from this ending. The story is so good so far! But I have seen good stories before! And there are patterns, right, patterns it's so easy for even good stories to fall into, so yeah, I have fears, and they mostly come down to Hades himself.

(Yep, this one got long again! People seem to be enjoying my game-reaction rambles, so, for your enjoyment under the cut: themes of separation and reunion, predictions for what Zagreus is the god of, and a whole lot of discussion of familial abuse dynamics, how they're depicted in fiction, and the work it takes to change them in real life. Stay warned! Stay safe!)

(ALSO, I still haven't made it past the first couple of chambers in the Temple of Styx, so no spoilers in the reblogs/comments please! Yes, even though the whole post is me going on about predictions and hopes and concerns about the path the story might take. I WILL GET THERE SOON.)

It has been really interesting watching some of the stuff the game is doing with themes of parting and reunion, and how that corresponds to life and death. So many of our social links are about reuniting estranged loved ones: Chaos and Nyx, Eurydice and Orpheus, Patroclus and Achilles. Hades is estranged from Olympus, Persephone left. And every time we leave, or try to leave, it is both an attempt at a parting (and Meg and Than are so hurt by that goodbye, or lack thereof) and an attempt at a reunion with our mother. Every time we die it's a reunion, every time we die it's fun, it's great, we get to go back home and check in with all of our friends and be impressed by whoever made Employee Of The [Timeperiod] and sell fish to the cook and put down yet more rugs. (My Zagreus has something of a rug addiction. What can you do.)

It's at the point where I feel pretty secure in stating that Zagreus is going to discover eventually that he is both life/death/rebirth god, and god of partings and reunions. Both halves of both of those things. People leave each other when they die and re-find their loved ones in death; you go away from one group of people to come back to another; you have to depart to return, and I really think that's where we're going to end up with Zagreus. He's going to reunite his various friends with their loved ones, he's probably going to restore communications between Hades and Olympus and even Persephone, he's going to reunite with his mom, and he's going to come back to the Underworld before he leaves to see everyone up top all over again. And of course the vehicle for all of this coming and going is death, because death is the ultimate departure and reuniter. (This is absolutely a religious concept containing a whole bunch of "oh hey our culture has a lot of Christian influence, doesn't it", Greek trappings aside, but that's fine, it's a game made in 2018 not 300 BC, these things happen. They keep calling the Underworld 'hell' and 'infernal'. It's all good.) Of course he's a cthonic god. Of course he bleeds, because you have to bleed in order to die, and Zagreus has to die again and again and again. That's his whole thing.

Thing is, though, looking at those themes, I am also continually aware of the fact that some partings are for a really good reason. Some partings should not end in reunion.

Yes, of course this is about Hades the abusive dad. I have been talking about Hades the abusive dad basically non-stop since I started playing this game, where did you think this post was going.

There are a few things I'm nervous about, separate but related, and at the core it all comes down to, I'm not okay with it if we learn why Hades got to be this way, and Zagreus forgives him as we-the-audience are meant to do, and Hades promises to do better, and nothing concrete about the situation is forced to change. Actual, meaningful, practical, logistical, non-hypothetical non-metaphorical change, not just for Zagreus but for Hades himself.

Because I know how this story tends to go, in fiction. Fictional abusive parents (especially in fantasy/sci-fi stories) tend to come in two types: 'coerced their offspring into actual murder with a side of physical abuse and optional unethical lab experimentation', or 'this was here to create character conflict, we didn't mean for it to read as actually abusive, this parent just has flaws to make them a good character, we swear!' Hades isn't the first type--we have never once seen Hades strike his son, or anybody, or even come out from behind his desk--which means that the fear is, always, always, in every piece of fiction, that he's the second. That the writers are going to decide that the right response to his abuses is remorse, forgiveness, and one really good conversation. That they don't realize it's abuse in the first place.

And, like. They have to know, right? They have to. They can't have done this by accident. (Sometimes, writers get so close by accident.) They can't have done so well at drawing out this situation simply by going, 'well, people are meant to fear this god, so they'd probably react like this, and I guess based on what I've seen in other stories or vague acquaintances they'd then do this,' and never put the name on the situation. Every single time we leave to the tune of a Hades word-flash, he's being dismissive, insulting, and sometimes downright cruel. He is cruel. They have to know!!!

But oh boy have I been consuming media for a lot of years, and oh boy have I run into a lot of writers who don't know.

Reconciliation is such a loaded word, but stories about dysfunctional families really do love it. Stories based around themes of reunion are primed for it. And of course, it's nice, it ties a happy ending off with a sweet little bow, everyone gets to be with the people they love and the family is safe and nobody gets hurt, but so rarely have I seen stories that show the actual work required to rebuild those relationships in a realistic or meaningful way. So rarely do stories trying to build that happy ending actually let the victim of abuse set and maintain boundaries. The character never gets to actually just cut the damn ties to the thing that hurt them. The character so rarely even gets to be safe.

And it's so hard in this game specifically, because "THERE IS NO ESCAPE", because every single thing about this game says that the story's not over when Zagreus gets to the surface, that no matter what he's going to have to come back. It's so hard, because this is a game about reunions. I am not going to get an ending where the abused kid trying to flee his toxic home and abusive dad actually gets to leave and stay gone, not in this one. And that hurts (I have watched and supported and done my best to help multiple real-life friends get the fuck out of homes like that, and stay gone, I have seen how hard it is, how complicated, how awful, and there are never stories for that), but I can live with it, if I get an ending where Zagreus is at least safe. Where things change. Where they really change.

Which is why I need actual, concrete, material changes in the logistics and power structure of the Underworld for this ending to be okay. Understanding why Hades is Like That doesn't cut it. Remorse doesn't cut it! Because look, even if Hades wants to do better, even if he admits he's at fault and tries to be better, he is still set up in a position as an all-powerful tyrant, and trying to become a better person is hard. There is nobody around who can keep him in check when he starts backsliding, which he will. Even if he doesn't want to, he will.

Because people are people, and it's really difficult to break patterns! Especially if everything around them stays the same. Hades is going to slip at some point, be cruel, be callous, be tyrannical, no matter how much of an effort he's making. Not to mention, it is STRESSFUL to face your own crimes and improve, it sucks, it feels bad. And what do habitual abusers do when they feel bad? What's the only coping mechanism Hades appears to have established for dealing with his own shit? That's right, it's inflicting suffering on everyone else around him. (This is why it doesn't really matter what circumstances drove Hades to act this way, why it can't matter--I believe that he is suffering, but he copes with that suffering by inflicting additional suffering on everyone around him, everyone who relies on him, and that's still true no matter what made him feel bad to begin with.) So then we just get a great old guilt-->lashing out-->more guilt-->more lashing out merry-go-round of abuse even as Hades is trying to change. That's how these things work. And yes, change is possible, improvement is absolutely possible, but the environment needs to change first. The system that enables and rewards Hades for acting this way can't stay in place. Things need to actually change, with people who are around to support Hades in his growth and also check his power, people who have power of their own to stop him. And however it happens, for this story with this protagonist with these goals to feel like a happy ending, Zagreus needs to be safe.

It would be okay, though a little disappointing, if those changes were mostly based in magic and fate and, idk, divine mind-control. (This story has been so grounded in actual human dynamics that a fantastical solution to a realistic problem would feel like a letdown, but if it actually solved the problem I'd be okay with it, more or less.) It would be okay, though a little disappointing, if the responsibility for bringing Hades to heel fell upon Zagreus and Persephone, if the two family members who he hurt badly enough that they felt the need to run away from him entirely now had to shoulder the burden of helping him fix himself. (There are definitely ways to write that dynamic better and ways to write it worse, and I think I trust these writers to land on the 'better' side of the scale, but I still don't love the implications.) I think I'd be pretty into it if Hades took a vacation off to Olympus to Work Out His Shit with his own family, while a coalition of Meg, Nyx, Thanatos, Zagreus, and Queen Persephone took over running the Underworld in his absence. I think we might end up getting some combination of those things. I'm hopeful. I think these writers might know what they've written. I think they might have a sense for what it'll take to fix.

But yeah, I'm nervous. (Nervous enough that I might switch to God Mode just to get through, combat has started getting really tedious instead of fun, I want to know what happens next, and this is a game and there is no shame in making it more fun for myself by making the boring parts a little quicker and easier.) I've seen so many stories go wrong. This one has done so much to earn my trust. We'll see if it breaks.

[crowleysqueenandlucislover]

Break Down

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Cas x Reader

Summary: The boys go out to the country to help you with your broke down car but a bad situation blossoms into something beautiful.

Warnings: None

Notes: I wrote this as a very ‘in-the-moment’ thing. It probably won’t make that much sense at points, maybe even drag, but i thought ‘what the hell let’s just write’. You’ll figure it out but the reader is bisexual (with a preference towards women) but has always has a special something for a certain angel so i hope it’s okay with everyone and y’all still like it!

JEEZ! I did not realize how many drafts i had sitting on this page! I’m just posting some of them Bc to hell with it, but if you want to hear the rest of the originally planned story let me know.

Sam finished scribbling his previous note. “And what about the missing books of the Bible. Supposedly there’s 10. Is that true?” “Yes,” Castiel shifted uncomfortably and spoke in a hushed tone. “It’s something that is not discussed among the angels. Like humans who questionably keep an elephant in their room yet refuse to verify it’s existence.” Sam swallowed his reflex to correct the angel and continued to listen. “There was a man in the Bible, Heman, who was famously wise. He contributed 233 words to the Bible but his initial submission was drawn-out. Much of his wisdom was due to earthly influences and as such could not be allowed. The small bit he did contribute was all that could be salvaged.” “So he wrote 10 books worth of high thoughts?” “In a sense, yes.” “And none of it was biblical?” “…Let’s just say, somehow, a man named Adolf Hitler got his hands on these books and-” “NOPE! No i am-i am good; i do not need to hear the rest of that sentence. Thank you.”

Sam stood and excused himself to the kitchen where Dean sat sipping a beer. “Hey.” “Hey.” “How did your nerd Q & A go?” “I learned much, MUCH, more than i wanted to.” “Like-?” “You don’t wanna know.” Sam grabbed his own beer and sat opposite his brother. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Dean’s phone rang.

“Ghostbusters,” Dean smirked proudly before seeing his brother’s disapproving stare. He cleared his throat, “who is this?” Dean’s humor faded from his face and Sam knew exactly who it was, “Hey y/n-”

“Shut it Sam!

No you can’t talk to him what do you want….

I’m not rude just impatient…”

Dean gave a shameful side look down at the beer in his hand,

“No??

Shut up what do you want. You’re still coming to visit right?

You can’t be serious…

y/n you’re telling me you can’t fix your own car?

No i’m not saying that but did you really learn nothing from me?”

Dean let slip a small laugh,

“Yeah you did get better at picking up chick than me…

What? No, no i wouldn’t say it was embarrassing-”

Sam cleared his throat from across the table. Dean rolled his eyes,

“Anyways,

So you need us to come pick you up or something? Drop your car at a shop?

True i could but why should i? You’re not exactly nice to me…

Fine i’ll fix it, but ONLY because you have food and Sam hasn’t gone shopping yet. Plus we haven’t seen Casey in a while. How is she…”

Dean puffed out his chest proudly,

“That’s my little niece…

She’s my niece you know you’re family…

You’re damn right. Alright send me your location and Sam and I will head your way-

what? Cas too?

You know he knows nothing about cars right?

Fine have it your way, we’ll bring feathers…

Alright, see ya soon kiddo.”

Dean hung up the phone and threw out his bottle. “Y/n broke down a few hours away from here with Casey and needs help fixing her car. You good to leave in 10?” Sam stood up and threw out the rest of his beer, “Yeah let me change and get the car loaded up.” “Alright, i’ll get the angel. Cas-!” “Yes Dean.” Cas’ voice crashed into Dean’s ear. “Son of a-! Get ready to leave we’re going to help y/n-” “Is she okay? Is she hurt?!” Dean was taken back by Castiel’s exaggerated concern for you, you had only met a couple of times. “No she’s fine. Her car broke down we’re gonna go help her out.” Castiel’s demeanor softened and he nodded before disappearing.

“Y/n!” You threw yourself into the young Winchester and held him as tightly as you could without hurting the toddler in your arms. Sam gladly hugged you back, savoring the moment. 

The two of you met in college shortly after he started dating your roommate Jessica. You too hid your past from her but hunting became the thing that sealed your friendship with Sam. Long after Jessica’s death, and Sam disappearing with his brother, the two of you kept in touch. After you finished college you opened up a bar in town and every now and then Sam would come through the doors. You’d catch up, have a few drinks, and sometimes even go on a hunt together. Years later you sold your bar and accepted Sam’s offer to move into the bunker. It was the best two years of your life until you took working under cover a bit too literally.

*BACK STORY*

The job was to solve the mysterious murders happening at a large law firm located in downtown Boston. One of the partner’s, Tom, had a foot in the supernatural world and suspected a vengeful spirit was responsible. Not being able to solve it on his own, Tom called Bobby for advise who then called you and the boys. He was able to get you all jobs at the office: Sam was brought in as the new intern, spending most of his time working with the paralegals and associates, taking notes of all the gossip and whispers he came by. Dean was placed in security, learning what he could about the companies history, reviewing security footage, and exploring all of the buildings restricted areas. You were left to fill in the most recent victim’s position of Tom’s assistant. Initially you were interested in one of the paralegals; she was more your taste (reason being she was a ‘she’), but you found more in common with Tom than anyone else. You enjoyed working together and despite your pull towards other women you were falling for this guy. The case lasted a couple of months; it being more difficult than suspected, but it gave you more time to spend with Tom. After a couple of days Tom took you out on a date and after a couple of weeks he took you to bed. You both knew the relationship wouldn’t last but you couldn’t deny the connection either. You enjoyed the time you had together, Tom even going so far as to introduce you to his parents, and if only for a short while you were a normal couple.

The case ended how most ended, with blood and casualties. Tom was rushed to the hospital, barely alive, but was in high spirits having just learned he was going to be a father. You stayed by his side till the end when he died a few weeks later. It’d be a lie before God if you said you weren’t left a little heartbroken, you shared something special with Tom, not to mention you were carrying his child.

A few days later you were asked to meet with Tom’s lawyer regarding his will. He left a hefty inheritance for you and the child along with his beach home that he took you to visit once. He also gave you his grandfather’s 1970 Chevelle in hopes you’d care for it like he did, and one day give it to your child. (Dean of course loved that Baby was getting a sibling and promised to help with the up keep.) It was all yours should you agree to raise your child in the beach home and keep the promise you made him. The lawyer didn’t know what that was in reference to, only that Tom said you would, and you did. Before he died you promised Tom that you would one, keep and raise the baby. Two, give up hunting. Three, to raise the baby away from the supernatural world, but still educate them about it. And four, to tell them the truth about their father and his death. Of course you promised him and you had every intention of keeping it.

After all the legalities were settled and you were fully packed, the boys helped you move into your new home. The house was located in a small beach town far away from the busy city, and more importantly, any supernatural activity. You would live a quiet life, something you’ve always dreamed of, but your biggest hesitation was being so far from the Winchesters. You would rarely if ever be able to see them anymore but you made a promise and knew it was for the best. Once settled in, you said your final goodbyes to the boys then completely cut all ties to the supernatural world. The only hunters you kept in touch with were Sam and Dean but, even then, any word from you was sporadic.

*PRESENT*

The two of you stayed in your embrace for what felt like hours. “God i’ve missed you Sammy!” Dean began unloading the impala, mumbling to himself how he should be the only one allowed to call his brother that.

Cas watched the exchange, lost in his own world. His eyes permitted a foreign sparkle while they gawked over you. His fingers fidgeted with the cuffs of his trench coat and his heels nervously dug themselves into the dirt. He felt himself fill up with a million butterflies whenever he was around you; you made him feel like he could fly again. Dean continued mumbling incoherently to himself until he noticed his best friend. Cas’ face was nothing but smiles and hopeful eyes. His cheeks were a shade of red Dean had never seen before. Cas struggled to loosen his tie. Dean watched in utter disbelief. “Hey,” He pulled Cas down from the cloud he was floating on, “what’s…all this; the hell you doing?” Cas opened his mouth but despite his infinite knowledge, nothing could amount to what he was trying to express. His focus kept drifting towards you like a moth drawn to a flame. Cas only smiled, looking from you to Dean, hoping that somehow his friend could just understand. He wasn’t sure he did but Dean nodded and returned to unloading the car.

You engaged in small talk before handing over your daughter to the gentle giant. He swung the little girl around, “Now who is this little angel and what have you done with my Casey?” The little girl giggled as she soared through the air, “It IS me uncle Sam i’m Casey!” “No you’re way to big!” “Nu uh! YOU’RE way too big!” You and Sam busted out laughing. He put Casey down, “Well you got me there. Let’s go help your uncle Dean unload. I’m sure he could use one of your famous hugs.” The two ran off towards a still moping Dean. You smiled after your goofy family, lucky to have such great brothers.

“Cas,” you could hear the angel shuffling behind you, “why are you acting so awkward?” You turned to face the flustered angel. “I’m, always awkward, y/n. At least, according to Dean, anyways.” “Yes but never with me.” You two share a silent moment, each searching for something in the others eyes. You approach Cas intending to give him a hug but are stopped at an arms lengths. Cas stiffly gripped a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand, unaware of how in your face they were. You took a step back to properly admire his gift. You took them in your own hands, “They’re beautiful Cas.” “I picked them from a field in Tuscany.”“As in Tuscany, Italy?” Cas gives an innocent nod, “The plane ride there and back was not enjoyable for many passengers, myself included. Sunflower’s are still your favorite correct?” You smiled, “Yes Cas they are.” You pulled him into a hug, “Thank you Cas.” He pulled you closer into his chest, relieved to be back in his favorite spot, “Anything for you.”

“Seriously, how many angels does it take to fix a car?” Dean recruited Castiel to help because Sam was having a tea party with Casey. It was funny seeing the worlds best hunter and an angel of the Lord struggle to push a car a few feet. The two finally began working on it but that was three hours ago. You knew your car would be fixed by now if Cas didn’t insist on helping Dean, forcing him to explain every single step ten times. It was charming though, you could see the determination in Cas’ face to help. 

He always tried to fix your problems, no matter how big or small, and sometimes, even when it wasn’t a problem at all. Out of sugar? Cas got you more. Any degree of injury? Cas healed you. Trouble falling asleep? Warm milk, soft blanket, back rub, snacks, playing with your hair, snuggling; whatever you needed Cas got and/or did for you.

It was nice…until it wasn’t nice. God forbid you stub your toe getting out of the bathtub again; Cas appearing in front of a naked you telling you to stop screaming so he could ‘inspect your injury’. That was the first time you’ve ever punched Cas. And of course, every month there he was with your craving of choice, a pair of his sweats that you love to wear, tissues, and whatever movies you wanted to binge watch all night. He usually sticks around until it’s over and accompanies you everywhere you go. 

Every. Where. 

Going to the bathroom? He’s sitting outside the door checking on you every 30 seconds making sure you're wiping front to back. Sneeze? He brings you a new tampon. Should you give anyone any amount of attitude? Cas apologizes on your behalf before explaining your ailment; you learned to do all your shopping before you started. The last straw was when you were shaving in the shower and struggled to get a ‘private area’…that was the second time you punched Cas.

[multiplefandomsblog]

Prince!Kokichi headcanons

request; may I request Kokichi as a prince and his female S/O getting engaged head-canons?<3

warnings; prince!Kokichi, female!reader, reader uses female pronouns, cussing, Kokichi is a fucking dumbass, is scrabble a thing in the royal au? well, it is now! this turned more into scenarios lmfao sorry bouT THAT ACK- unedited and all over the place, kinda passive aggressive hh

note; sorry for the long wait! I also apologize if the royal au isn’t too detailed, or if it even makes sense- I haven’t written anything like this before, so you’ll have to forgive me T_T Thank you so much for requesting tho!

◊ Prince Kokichi is a little shit, we all know that. So you need to know the disclaimers that come with loving a little shit;

◊ c h a o s

◊ Readers be warned. 

◊ Once Kokichi realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he becomes more clingy. He says it’s because he wants to spend more time with you, but he actually spends more time with you so he could try and study you to see if you felt the same about marriage and because he loves you, that too.

◊ He kind of acts like even more of a little shit, constantly teasing you and pretending to get on one knee, only to pick something up. 

◊ “Hey, S/o, there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while…” He fidgeted, faking an expression of nervousness. “Will you…” Your eyes widened, ‘is he going to propose??’ Answer in mind, you started nodding immediately, “Check out my horse’s butt? Mmm, I think he has some sort of anal fizzure, or something, but I can’t be certain-” He watched as your face dropped, a hint of a smirk on his faux-innocent face. 

◊ You cut him off, “No.” Kokichi looked at you in betrayal, “Ehhh? But s/o, you already agreed to it!” Gulping nervously, “I thought you said something else..!” Your suddenly timid voice, barely audible. Kokichi had to move his face closer to yours sneaky hoe,suddenly his voice dropped low, “Hm? What did you think I said?” His chuckled mischievously, laugh sending shivers down your spine. “I am going to throw my shoe at your face.” Kokichi’s earlier teasing demeanour seemingly disappeared after you threatened him, “Aw, S/o-chan is getting feisty- S/O WAIT-”

◊ Once you’ve unknowingly confirmed that you’re as whipped as he is for you(?), he starts his evil plan.

◊ He really wants to wow his future wife with his proposal, he wants all the other kingdoms to fucking wail because they’ll know they won’t ever be able to top his proposal off. 

◊ Although he’s almost 100% confident you’ll say yes, he still has some doubts. He is human after all, he’s bound to feel human emotions like fear of rejection. Though, as a master liar, he lies to himself, “She’ll 100% say yes, I am amazing after all, why wouldn’t she? H a h a h a-” making him feel waaay better about his doubts.

◊ It’s not healthy, but hey! It works!

◊ He lied to himself so much that he didn’t even think about the part where your dad would kill him- He forgot to ask for his permission beforehand, and he was going to regret it(whooops).

◊ He does months of preparing before his final plan. I don’t want to give it away but… It has something to do with animals. And uh, paint.

◊ Whenever you spotted Kokichi being suspicious, he somehow always successfully lies his way out of your accusations. Mostly charming you and diverting your attention from his sus-ness. 

◊ Kokichi does many, many foolish things to try and catch your attention, and almost never gets caught for it because of his amazing skills at lying. But this time, oh ho ho.

◊ The man had spray painted all the horses, animal-safe paint… I think, spelling out, “will you marry me?” Turns out, horses don’t like spray paint(who knew?), and so they made loud neigh noises while Kokichi painted their huge chests, unwantingly attracting the squire because of the noise.

◊ Once he was caught by the squire, his finger ‘accidentally’ slipped and he fired a gun in the air to scare the horses- Don’t worry! The horses knew where they were going. Prior to spray painting them, he had trained them to go to your kingdom every time they hear gunfire. Which explains why horses always come running to you whenever someone goes hunting-

◊ Luckily for him, the question mark horse waited for Kokichi to hop on before it had run away with the others, leaving enough time for Kokichi to escape and nearly trample the squire- 

◊ When you saw the jumble of horses and letters outside your window, your mind immediately thought of Kokichi. Oh wait, there he was! Your knight in shining armour, riding a distraught horse with a question mark on it’s back. You find yourself wondering, why did you find him attractive?

◊ Though, you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t do flips when you saw his purple head in the crowd of horses.

◊ You rolled your eyes playfully as you saw Kokichi beckoning you down with his hands, smiling when you saw how silly he looked. He was covered in dirt yet you’ve never seen someone so excited.

◊ Trotting down the stairs, your eyes caught sight of Kokichi’s stained back as he desperately tried to get the horses in order. “Kokichi?” Feeling your face heat up as you saw the way he turned and looked at you, he’s unsure how but, you always make him go speechless when he sees you. Maybe you’re a witch? “S/ooooo, why are you so fast?” He snapped out of his daze as he puffed, turning back around to move the horses in order. 

◊ Seeing as how you’re not stupid(and you play a lot of scrabble), one look at all the horse letters and you already knew what was happening. Kokichi peaked back behind him, sneakily glancing at your face that seemed to be… constipated? Wait no, you were holding in a laugh. “... You know don’t you?” He glared at your trembling form, your hand covering your mouth in an attempt to hide your giggles. “N-no, no! Go on, continue and uh, arrange that horse! Pfft-”, you said as you raised your fist in the air enthusiastically. He pouted, taking a couple steps towards you, “You didn’t even try to lie. This is offensive to me, you know?” He said in a faux-disappointed tone, only making you laugh harder. 

◊ He lightly pushed your arm, “S/o, why are you so overly intelligent? All those word games make you seem like a nerd.” You gasped dramatically, “I’m a nerd? Look behind you!” Frustrated(bc bitch knew he lost-), he quickly pecked you with his dirt-covered lips. Once he pulled away, he was granted with your beautiful, flustered expression he had grown to love.

◊ “Just answer the question already S/oooo!” He whined, pulling at your sleeves like a child. “F-fine, fine, I do. I will marry you.” He felt his whole body shiver with relief, face suddenly lighting up and giving you whiplash at the change in his mood.

◊ “Yay! S/o-chan looooves me~!” He leaped into your arms, covering your nightgown with dirt. Though neither of you seemed to care about how dirty and un-noblelike you both acted, as you were both too invested in the other to even think about anything else. Including the horses that were now running away. 

◊ Though he lies about many many things, he is never lying when he says he wants to court you. He’ll say it a million times until you believe him, he doesn’t care, he just loves you so much.

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au ⚬ word count: 15,728. ⚬ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. ⚬ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.

✧✎ synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil he’s managed to attract.

✧✎ a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry i’ve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldn’t figure out how to write in the ‘twist’ or whatever the fuck. you’ll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyus​ as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!

You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.

When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed they’d return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldn’t return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didn’t have your family, you had your friends. 

At least if you didn’t have your family, you had Mingyu. 

As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.

He seemed to disappear alongside your mother’s sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school you’d learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.

Yet when you looked to your mother, you didn’t see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your father’s disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your father’s hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.

Notably, you didn’t start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time you’d ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,

“S-She’s dead, she payed for your father’s incompetence, his greed.”

In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the  distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what you’d just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.

You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyu’s shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.

“We can’t stay here,” You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.

“Gotta keep moving, alright? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Mingyu’s composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, he’d been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadn’t always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.

In fact the first time you’d ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.

Two Years Ago –

“I’ll kill you if you come near her again!”

“Is that supposed to scare me?!”

You’d never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the other’s speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.

“Shit – sorry,” you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyu’s girlfriend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She mumbled whilst biting her nails, “I didn’t know how to stop it.”

“Stop the fight?”

She continued babbling, “Junhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. They’re both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when they’re drunk. I don’t know what to do.”

Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You don’t think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didn’t care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.

In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyu’s relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.

Mingyu was her polar opposite. 

Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, “a gentle giant,” and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring. 

Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.

You kept in mind, a little.

“They’re fighting over you?” You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.

“Yes,” Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, “can’t they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?”

Wouldn’t it be best if they didn’t rip into each other at all?

“Like you said, they’re drunk and stupid,” you opted for the latter choosing.

Mingyu’s mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop. 

As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasn’t a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.

You set a hand on Yeeun’s shoulder, “maybe you should stop thi—,”

Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snail’s pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boy’s black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyu’s knuckles connected with Junhui’s eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.

“G-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!”

“You fucking asked for this, dumbass!”

In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyu’s face, the collision splintering against Mingyu’s brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhui’s hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowd’s bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears. 

You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.

Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?

She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasn’t a viable option.

“Hey!” You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, “what the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!”

Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didn’t know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhui’s hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowd’s cheering turned to hushed whispers.

“Enough!”

Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes you’d never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like she’d been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.

“C’mon, Gyu,” she gritted, “we’re leaving.”

Thanks for the help.

You were tempted to call.

The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.

Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.

Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.

“Oh! It’s… you.” She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.

“It’s me,” you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didn’t she say she was leaving?

Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, “I see you need to get yourself bandaged up.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.

“Well… I’ll be right back then. Just so you know there’s no gauze left.”

“That’s okay, I don’t think I’ll need an—,”

“I’m going to look for some!” Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, “be back soon!”

Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didn’t do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.

“Hey.” He began.

Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m going to fall in love with you.

“Thanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.”

You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, “I think you could have taken him.”

Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. “Fuck this. I hate getting drunk.”

Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyu’s curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.

“How’s your injury?”

“I don’t know, how is it?” He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.

“I’m no doctor, but you might need stitches.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu grimaced. “That fucking sucks.”

You scoffed. “That’s funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.”

Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldn’t suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.

“I’m joking.”

“I know.” Mingyu said. “I’m sure everyone’s gonna start saying he’ll rake my eyes out at purge.”

You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasn’t anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasn’t because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath. 

Of course, Junhui’s reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.

In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.

“Do you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?”

Mingyu frowned. “Sorry, nothing.”

You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.

“Yeeun’s getting gauze.”

“I think I’ll be okay—,”

“Wait!” Mingyu suddenly piped. “This might be super awkward but—,” the boy’s tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.

Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, “M-Mingyu, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said, “this shirt’s old and busted anyways. It’s better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.”

You smiled softly and stared at the floor.

“Here! I’ll even wrap it for you.” He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand. 

Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.

“Now you look like you just got into a fight.”

“Right, because I’m the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.

“That’s something only time can tell.” He purred

Two Years Ago –

When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeun’s heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyu’s. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.

In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.

Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeun’s heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.

Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.

“Think Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?”

“Probably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And it’s not like he’s hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?”

“Yeah. But Junhui’s clique practically owns the purge. They’ll tear your fuckin’ house down if they can find it.”

“…True. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui sho— ”

Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didn’t seem like the type to kill, though you didn’t know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for torture’s sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.

Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body you’d walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.

“Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologized.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.

“Were you leaving?” Mingyu asked.

Yes.

“No, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasn’t... back there.”

“Oh,” he sighed, “seemed like you were in a rush.”

“I was just thinking.”

Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, “about?”

You sniffled. “What?”

“What were you thinking about?”

Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhui’s hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoever’s chest during last year’s purge, about Mingyu’s history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.

“How much I hate essays.”

He nodded. “That must be it.”

Without thinking, you blurted, “what happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?”

He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.

“Well, it makes you look like a badass if that’s any comfort.”

Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. “What’s up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.”

Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.

“Kinda. It doesn’t look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And you’re way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.”

For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didn’t surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.

“Trust me,” Mingyu said, “it wouldn’t make me feel any better if we were matching.” 

His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyu’s usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.

“There’s a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that we’re a couple,” stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, “I was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my hea—”

“It’s fine.” Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“You’re pretty cute y’know? I don’t think I’d mind.”

1 year ago –

You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim.  The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.

You’d never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.

He moved out from his parent’s house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didn’t have a very good home life. He’d supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered. 

You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao. 

However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadn’t stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didn’t have any bad blood with anyone either.

Not that you were aware of.

In the beginning stages of Mingyu’s purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.

However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyus’ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.

“It was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...

Mingyu had to clear his throat.

“I guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasn’t even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I don’t fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just —“

You didn’t allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didn’t just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him. 

And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.

This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.

At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.

All emergency services will be suspended.

Your government thanks you for your participation.

“This is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!”

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the city’s heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didn’t make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyu’s hand like dog’s teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.

“I knew that we weren’t going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!”

You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyu’s backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.

“This way.” Mingyu’s words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.

You hardly registered he’d even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldn’t afford to run any longer.

“M-Mingyu, can we please stop?”

The boy didn’t seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.

The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.

“I’ll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot.”

You stared into Mingyu’s face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.

“Trust me, I know you’re exhausted. We’re gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.” He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyu’s forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.

“Stay put.” Mingyu commanded you.

There was a colder lining to his tone that you’d never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.

“You’re just a kid,” the man taunted, “it’s always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think they’re all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.”

Mingyu didn’t waver. “You should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.”

You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.

The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, “you’ve got the same cockiness as that rich China boy’s little clique. I’m sure you’ve heard about them. They’ll be flocking to the streets any minute now.”

Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldn’t recognize it. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him.”

The man chuckled darkly, “hit a nerve, did I?”

You weren’t sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyu’s behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyu’s height he would be quite slow and lack agility.

However, that was severely not the case, to the man’s dismay more than anyone else’s. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the man’s windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.

At that point you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Mingyu’s breathing was level as he rose from the man’s waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the man’s coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didn’t realize you were shivering.

“Now,” he pronounced, “we’re going home.”

And at the time you believed him. 

Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle. 

You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window. 

And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.

Present –

Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.

There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.

“Look at you,” the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyu’s prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, “your shot may be even better than mine now.”

After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyu’s arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.

“The student becomes the teacher,” you purred, “I even remembered to turn the safety on this time.”

“You’re damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,” the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, “you almost took my kneecap off the last time.”

Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, “can we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.”

“I know, I know,” Mingyu cooed, “a very, very, very dangerous mistake.”

You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket you’d strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.

“You still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?”

The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boy’s lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.

“Sounds fine,” you hummed, “since I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.”

“I love how straightforward you are, baby.” Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.

Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.

You didn’t think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyu’s tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You weren’t really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.

After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyu’s bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you weren’t sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.

You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldn’t bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your ear’s cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.

Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasn’t until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldn’t help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.

And yet, you knew it couldn’t progress.

With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyu’s chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear he’d made you uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong? I wasn’t being too rough, was I?” He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.

“No, not at all,” You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, “I just… Don’t think we should, do it, in a field.”

The hollow grooves in Mingyu’s features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.

“Thank God, I thought I hurt you or something,” he heaved in relief.

Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a man’s windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the wind’s peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.

With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.

“Mingyu?” You hummed.

“Yeah?” His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.

“What’s going to happen with you and Junhui?”

Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.

Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Mingyu said flatly, “are you scared?”

Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.

“N-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.”

“He’s too obsessed with himself to care about me. Don’t worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.” Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips. 

Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purger’s name, you grasped for Mingyu’s hand and smiled.

“Let’s head back into town.”

He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.

“Don’t forget about that, y’know,” you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, “it’s not like there’s a gun in there or something.”

“A gun with the safety on.” He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.

You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.

“I’ll get out here,” you told him, “I’ll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.”

Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.

Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink you’d like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.

Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. That’s funny.

That’s funny.

That’s… funny…

“Order 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.”

To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.

It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs you’d ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasn’t the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.

You didn’t know why you weren’t moving. Mingyu’s words rang in your head.

Are you scared?

Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.

God - I hope they didn’t see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.

Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldn’t ever dream of getting into.

Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasn’t completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.

Finally, you’d reached the cement steps—

But it was too late.

His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didn’t want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.

“You walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.”

“Exercise is good.” You nearly wheezed.

For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.

“You left your coffee.” He stated.

“I realized I had somewhere to be.” You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.

“As anyone would, it’s getting late.”

The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witch’s cauldron.

“I think it might rain,” you said meekly, “are you looking to ask me something?”

Junhui took a step forward. He’d never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhui’s head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.

“I heard you like to purge now.” Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.

Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.

“I was surprised,” he cooed, “you don’t seem like the type… But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.”

Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.

“I’m so elated you found purpose,” his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, “the purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You won’t have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. It’s quite healing,” Junhui purred, “if you ask me.”

It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhui’s hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt just because Mingyu can’t take care of you.”

“I-I trust him,” You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.

“C’mon,” Junhui seemed to taunt, “you know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.” He grinned wolfishly. “Besides, Mingyu doesn’t have the most durable history of looking out for others.”

His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your ear’s cusp, “you do know what happened to Minghao, don’t you?”

Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend he’d hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhui’s shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyu’s car.

You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.

“I’ll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.” Junhui murmured. “I’m sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If you’re wise, you’ll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.”

Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.

Junhui knew that Mingyu didn’t fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that you’d been introduced to the devastating truth. 

The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the car’s sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.

This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.

It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyu’s teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.

Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.

The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.

Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldn’t hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flame 

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.

Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.

For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radio’s static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.

And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didn’t shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow.  It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.

“Here,” Mingyu held out his jacket that he’d tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, “it’ll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.”

“Thanks.” You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.

He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, “where should we head?”

When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, “wherever you want.”

The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyu’s hatred to Junhui’s existence.

You didn’t confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhui’s lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.

Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. You’d slam awake in a cold sweat. At times you’d be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.

You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.

It didn’t take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.

About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.

Mingyu smiled. “The night just started and you already look like you’re over it.”

The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.

“I don’t know if I’m over it or not. I guess I’m thinking about how I’ll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, y’know?”

The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.

“We don’t have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where we’ll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. “I don’t even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, “what way?”

“Melancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?”

Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicle’s speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.

“I don’t even know if I can describe it anymore.” He shrugged.

You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless. 

“Why did you start purging?”

The boy’s canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.

“Because I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You can’t hide from it after that.” 

Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyu’s past.

“Were you friends with Junhui?”

There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyu’s response.

“At one point, yes.” He admitted, his words sounding distasteful. 

You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyu’s bicep. 

“I don’t care if you were. I know you aren’t the same as him, and that this night changes people. You don’t let it consume you like he does.”

Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didn’t get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the group’s masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.

You couldn’t help but note that Mingyu’s eyes had become slightly watered.

“It was never about purification,” he told you, “I never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isn’t the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.”

A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.

“It’s sad he had to grow up like that.” You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent. 

A few minutes later, and you were laughing. “I didn’t mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.”

“I know,” Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, “I can’t blame you for being curious, baby. I just don’t think back on my past all that much.”

He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. “I like focusing on right now, where I have you.”

It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray. 

You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your mother’s life was taken away from her when she wasn’t even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldn’t be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.

Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.

All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.

”Mingyu, watch out!” You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.

At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He rasped.

“I-I’m fine. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” You replied shakily.

Mingyu’s facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyu’s hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.

They’re shooting at the tires.

Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, “this way!”

He’d managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after he’d gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.

Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyu’s head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.

“Hey Mingyu,” the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, “long time no see.”

Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu echoed, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you or anything.” The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.

“Are you crazy, dude?” Mingyu growled. “You shot out my fucking tires.”

Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “I was just following orders.”

You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadn’t been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyu’s palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyu’s hand in a vice grip.

“Following orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?”

“It’s understandable you would think that,” Wonwoo sighed, “but I’m not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.”

“Since when are you supposed to kill me?” Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.

It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhui’s brigade. 

Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyu’s ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the blade’s handle with an unprecedented rage. 

“What are you doing?” Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. “Even after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?”

“It’s nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,” Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, “and he’s promised me some things.”

Mingyu clenched his jaw. “You mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dad’s lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!”

There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out. 

“I tried,” Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, “I went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I haven’t touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?”

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, “Wonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--”

“Just shut up,” the elder interrupted flatly, “maybe today I’ll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.”

It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyu’s shoulder.

“So you’re going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? That’s how you’re going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.

“I know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasn’t felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyu’s best friend too. You weren’t the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasn’t upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesn’t want to dip his hands into, but you’re a real person. Wake up and act like it!”

For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gun’s trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.

Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day. 

Mingyu’s voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. “Jihoon?!”

Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. “Be careful, dammit. She’s the one we can’t afford to bruise up.”

Jihoon’s arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple. 

Mingyu’s gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. “Don’t even fucking think about it, Jihoon.”

Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. “Junhui wants that one,” he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, “alive.”

Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, “So what’s our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?”

You wriggled again in Jihoon’s arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. “Can we not kill anybody?!”

“Calm down,” Wonwoo instructed, “I hate shouting. If any of you shout I’m planting a bullet in your brain.”

“You’re such a bore,” Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.

Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. “A word of advice. Stop struggling and you won’t get hurt.”

“H-He’s hurting me,” you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.

“Lighten your grip.” He told Jihoon.

“I’m not even holding her that tightly!” The boy protested. Wonwoo’s face didn’t crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.

“Lighten. Your. Grip.”

“It’s all pretending! Can’t you see? They’re trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Don’t be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! I’m hardly touching—“

Bang.

Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoon’s forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoon’s body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.

“Well,” Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, “I really do hate yelling.”

Mingyu’s kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.

“He was holding you kind of tightly.”

Mingyu gasped, “no fucking kidding.”

Wonwoo sighed. “I guess I don’t expect to live much longer now that I’ve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have  prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.

“I didn’t follow through on my order. I can’t bring myself to do it. ” Wonwoo mumbled. “We’ll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. You’ll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of life’s many mysteries, right?”

There wasn’t much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon who’d been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.

“Horrendous.” Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.

Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasn’t expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.

“I expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.”

She stepped over a corpse you hadn’t noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.

“Filthy,” Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, “nothing but filth.”

Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldn’t directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.

“There’s my sweet boy.” Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyu’s legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters. 

She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.

“You know, I miss you,” she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, “I’m so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we can’t afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, let’s not let that put a damper on the night. It’s still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?”

You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadn’t opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.

Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyu’s knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.

“Just drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, there’s been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.”

Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.

“She can come too,” Yeeun purred, “Junhui wants to see both of you.”

Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyu’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.

Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.

Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasn’t her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently.  Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didn’t doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeun’s deceit was stronger?

The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyu’s grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other than—

“Junhui,” Yeeun cawed, “you won’t believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. He’s dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.”

She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.

Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat.  

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, “using Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. I’m guessing you took care of the traitor?”

Yeeun cackled, “right though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.”

“It’s a real disappointment,” Junhui huffed, “since the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. We’re ridding the streets of scum, aren’t we?”

Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeun’s gun taunt into your hair.

“The streets will never be rid of scum until you’re over and done with.”

Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.

“And here is the biggest traitor of them all!” 

Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, “how do you suppose you’ll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?”

It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.”

Junhui’s boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeun’s gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.

“You’re very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.”

Junhui’s hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine. 

“Don’t put your hands anywhere near her!” Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.

You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didn’t listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.

“Do you know why I did it?” Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.

“Dd-did w-what?” You warbled.

“It wasn’t because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didn’t even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasn’t sad... But I wasn’t happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!”

Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.

“You’re reborn! Don’t you get it? You’re no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--”

Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.

When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.

Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.

“Like hell you’ll do it!” Junhui screamed.

If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?

Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except – there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.

“Don’t do this,” she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, “I never meant to hurt you. It’s just – you wouldn’t understand why – he didn’t leave me any choice!”

Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He abruptly snapped. “You lie through your teeth like it’s the only thing you’re good for. You don’t love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddy’s security systems aren’t as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?”

She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.

Mingyu lifted Yeeun’s head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didn’t make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhui’s enraged storm of cursing as his companion’s body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldn’t have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhui’s distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.

And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.

Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhui’s knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.

Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist. 

When Mingyu had risen from Yeeun’s corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyu’s. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhui’s knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.

Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.

Well, it wasn’t your jacket, it was Mingyu’s.

Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that you’d used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.

Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyu’s wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasn’t a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhui’s fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.

What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isn’t enough to stop him? I don’t think I can do this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—

“So,” Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, “where’s your little guardian angel now, huh? If it weren’t for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now there’s no one to save you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. Finally, I’m entitled to purge how I’ve always wanted.”

The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.

But it wasn’t worth it to lose Mingyu.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didn’t register that the bullet had struck Junhui’s head until his body collapsed off of Mingyu’s lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didn’t register that you had saved Mingyu’s life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.

The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.

“Don’t try to move,” you heard a rough voice, “stay still as best you can.”

“Mingyu?” You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek. 

His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,” he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, “you fucking saved me, y’know? It’s because of you I’m still here, still breathing. All because of you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Wait… So, I’m not… dreaming?” 

Despite Mingyu’s earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven o’clock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.

“Now would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?” You smiled.

Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldn’t help but notice that Junhui and Yeeun’s bodies had been laid beside each other.

You thought about what Wonwoo had said.

Maybe where you’re going is different than where I’m about to go. One of life’s many mysteries, right?

Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasn’t exactly a mystery where that place was either.

“Mingyu,” you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.

He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.

“Are you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. I’m sure the medical services will be here soon, I promi—“

“I love you.”

Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. “O-Oh – I, um, I – I love you too… But, I think you already knew that.”

A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldn’t evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.

You don’t know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.

You survived the Purge together.

✎ a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.

i haven’t watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!

[angelthebedsheet]

“lip gloss kiss marks”

a/n: im making another oneshot so thank you to my broski jay ❤️

rengoku x genderneutral! black! reader

contains kissing, slapping kyo’s ass bc why not, kyo is technically up at an ungodly hour, reader doesn’t like the outside world, reader is a kyojuro ass enthusiast

modern au. f l u f f and some crack bc i cant resist

lets get it

_______________________________________________

You lazily leaned against the doorway with your arms crossed. You watched Kyojuro put on his white button, admiring how his back muscles moved as he adjusted his shirt. “I can feel your stares burning into my back, my love.” Kyojuro said with a slight chuckle as he looked at you in the mirror. You smiled. “What can I say? I’m simply a sucker for my husband’s muscles. Sue me.” You commented earning a hearty laugh from him. You lovingly watched as his eyes crinkled as his shoulders slightly shook. “Ah. You never fail to surprise me. Casanova in the sheets and a shy lil thing in the streets.” He said as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “It’s called me hating the outside world.” You sang while doing jazz hands.

“My brother is in the outside world.” He sang. “Shut up. Senjuro is my baby and I love him. Baby doesn’t count. I mean strangers and other shit like that.” You said, scrunching your nose. He hummed as he tucked his shirt into his pants. Your eyes trailed down his back to his snatched waist then to the main prize. That ass. Your man had a whole junk in the truck. Shawty was thick. You gotta tap that. You quickly shuffled forward and winded your hand back. You slapped it. He gasped and quickly held his bottom. He looked back at you with a bewildered expression and pink cheeks. “I touched the butt.” You said as you stared at your hand. “Y-Y/N! You can’t just do that!” He exclaimed. “Oh yeah? Who’s stopping me? There ain’t no law stoppin’ me from slapping the absolute dog shit out of my husband’s ass. You can’t just wear those slacks with that glorious ass and expect me not to pounce like a cat. Nu uh sir. You walk into a room and that ass walks in 5 minutes later.” You said passionately as you poked your finger into his chest. He huffed out a laugh as he glanced at your plump glossy lips. He could smell the coconut scent and he already wanted to kiss it all away.

“I walk into a room and my butt walks in 5 minutes later?” He questioned as he gently swatted your finger again. “That. shit. is. phat. It fuckin’ jiggles for fuck’s sake, Kyo! It’s mandatory! Let me get my daily dose!” You reached behind him and lightly patted his butt. He swatted your hand away. “Stop it, Y/N! I have to get ready for work.” He whined. “Need I remind you it’s only like what 5 am and you have a whole hour and a half before you even have to clock in?” You said as you adjusted your bonnet. “The early bird gets the worm! It always sets a nice example to be early and prepared for work!” He chirped before putting on his watch. “Sure, but there’s a thing called being too early which you’re doing right now. I don’t get why we couldn’t cuddle for just a few more minutes, sunflower. The bed is so warm and comfy while outside isn’t as warm and comfy.” You whined as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around you. He cupped your face and used his thumb to gently carress your s/c cheek. “Becauseeee my sun, a few more minutes for you means hours. But, don’t worry! I’ll be coming home at a reasonable hour! So after work you’ll have me and my cuddles all to yourself.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your bonnet. He scrunched his nose and gently moved the elastic band of your bonnet back to kiss your forehead.

You hummed. “Still doesn’t make it better. Kyo I think I’ll die without my proper amount of cuddles and affection.” You said dramatically as you made your best puppy eyes. Kyojuro could feel his resistance breaking as he looked at your big bright eyes that he never failed to get lost in. “I’m sorry, my sun! But I can’t stay as much as I’d like to. You also have to start your day fully as well.” He mumbled. You cursed under your breath. “Fineee I won’t ask anymore.” You looked away and grumbled, very unhappy with the fact your puppy eyes didn’t break him like they did on multiple occasions. He nodded and tilted your face back to him. He looked down at your glossy lips and then back up to your eyes. You smiled gently and nodded, giving him permission to let his own gently meet yours, not caring if your lip gloss rubbed off onto his own.

He smiled against your lips as he continued to press short kisses against your own, moving his arms to fully trap you in a hug. You felt yourself lean back slightly due to the repeated kisses (not that you hated it. No no, it was quite the opposite. Kyojuro’s kisses honestly felt like a drug as his regular scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled your senses.) pressed onto you. He hummed as he pulled away. He glanced at your lips and stared in disbelief. “It... It didn’t rub off that much.” He said, surprised at the durability of your lipgloss. Usually, by the time he was done your lips would be ridden of any balm, gloss or lipstick you wore. But this right here? Props. It was actually Kyojuro proof. “Mhm. I’m wearing a thicker one so I don’t have to keep reapplying after you basically eat my lips off each time. Keeps em soft too.” You mumbled as you looked at his glossy lips. “Smart move, my sun.” He said, letting you go. You slightly groaned at the lost of his warmth. (I mean seriously this man was like a human heater why would you let go?)

After he was finally able to finish putting on his clothes and eating with you, he grabbed his knapsack from the couch. You watched as he adjusted the strap on the bag before slipping his shoes on. As he stood up, you fixed his tie. He smiled at you. “I have to go now, my sun.” He said as he cupped your face with both hands. He pressed a kiss to your plump lips and pulled away. You whined, making him press a couple more kisses. “I love you. Remember to call me if you need anything.” He said as he let you go. You nodded as you watched him turn to unlock the door. You held the door for him as he stepped out. You suddenly got an idea. You smirked as you quickly grabbed the back of his collar, pulling him back. He gasped as you twirled him around, grabbing his tie. “Stay for just a little longer? I don’t think I got my daily dose of your kisses.” You said with a devilish innocent smile. You watched as his cheeks reddened.

“Y-You’re evil.” He mumbled as you pulled him back into the house, closing the door behind him. “But you married me.” You cooed, satisfied he was under your spell. “But I married you.” He whispered as you pulled him to kiss you by his tie. Yeah no, he wasn’t going to come in to work by the time he wanted to leave with your stunt you just pulled. He kissed you back, shrugging off his knapsack. With a light thud, his knapsack fell onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck. He kicked his shoes off and quickly lifted you up by your thighs. You squealed as he walked to the kitchen and set you on the island. “I have to go now, my sun.” You mocked once you pulled away from your liplock. He chuckled slightly. “You’re just a little too intoxicating. You little manipulator.” He joked. “Can’t hate the player, hate the game, sunflower.” You said as you pressed kisses all over his face. “Can you call in late today? Just this once?” You asked as you gave your best puppy eyes with a pout.

Damn you and your puppy eyes. He groaned as he pulled his phone out and sent a quick text before gently tossing it on the counter. “The things I do for you.” He leaned forward to get a deeper kiss in. You pulled him closer.

Kyojuro ended up coming into work slightly late with some glossy kisses marks on his pink cheeks.... He was clowned by Sanemi and Shinobu.

[gt-ridel]

Several hundred words of Half-Life Borrower!AU goodness

(Hi, this is Passportinspection!) Oooh goodness. I actually started writing this as an ask. I really thought what I had to say would fit into an ask. Since sending that anon about having 350 words of thoughts, I ended up getting distracted for a few hours, and then when I came back to this, I apparently had 400 more words to say. I just love rambling what-ifs about AUs. :’>

_

Hi Passportinspection!  Sorry it took so long to reply to this. I had more work than I thought yesterday. >__< I totally agree! Rambling about what-ifs is WAY more fun than actually writing a story. ;;>__> _

These are… not all A-list ideas, and I was very tempted to cut it down to the best bits, BUT I know that if someone said to me “I had 5 ideas for your au but only told you the 2 good ones” I would be extremely interested in hearing the 3 bad ones anyway, so… here it all is. This was written pretty stream-of-consciousness and then rearranged a bit to form my pinballing thoughts into something a little more linear, but, fair warning, it wasn’t edited much beyond that.

_ Ooo, I absolutely want to hear everything! All ideas, good and bad! Are you kidding? (Gets comfy) _

I keep thinking about the end of that “gordon takes borrower!barney with him through the events of HL1” scenario; Imagining gman’s speech at the end, I like the idea of him saying something like, “As for your.. /passenger/..” and both of their bloods running cold. I can’t decide if I’d rather barney actually go into stasis with gordon or not I think it could be an interesting/cute concept- the idea that gman/his employers figured barney was enough of a factor in gordon’s success that they thought it would be wise to keep them together for future “assignments.”

_ Bro I'll be honest, I hadn't gotten that far in the AU because I still haven't finished the game. My only reference for G-man is Mr. Coolatta. So I'll have to at least look the ending up on youtube before I'll be able to give my informed opinion.  But taking it as is?  That would be freaking terrifying. They've met some other scientists and security guards during their escape, but the HEV helmet was a perfect hiding place. None of them ever noticed that Gordon wasn't alone.  But somehow this reality bending creep knows, and it looks like he's not going to let Barney and Gordon just go home, which was basically what they were fighting for the whole time.  _

I’m also thinking about, like.. With Barney in Gordon’s helmet with him, Gordon must be able to feel him tense up and hear his breathing speed up whenever something particularly scary/dangerous happens, maybe even at times faintly feel the fluttering of his heart, and it strengthens his resolve to make it out of there bc it’s not just himself he’s saving. 🥺 Also Barney can provide running commentary, which perhaps soothes both of their nerves a little. Maybe he even helps with some puzzles. :> I also think it’s funny/convenient that that would work really well for an actual video game format. A friend that’s with you wherever you go that sees everything you see but can’t interact with the world but provides commentary and occasional helpful tips? That fits in nicely!

  _ Ha! Something I was thinking about was how Barney has spent his whole life living in the vents and such. He would probably be a perfect guide for Gordon. :3 As for Gordon feeling when Barney gets tense or scared and that fuling his drive to escape, that was ABSOLUTELY one of the reasons I wanted Barney in the helmet.  It would be uncomfortable, inconvenient, and down right dangerous sometimes. But you cannot deny the unique opportunities for deeper emotional exploration it would present. _

…But also, now that I think about it, maybe there are parts where the only way forward is for Barney to slip through a crack in a blockaded doorway and use a control panel that opens another door- that sort of thing. He gets to help with more than just talking sometimes! :> Oh, dang, imagine the part where gordon gets jumped and almost killed by the military. Poor Barney. D: Maybe a factor in Gordon escaping the trash compactor before it crushes him is Barney frantically trying to wake him up.

_ I was defo hyperfixating on what the whole beat down would be like from Barney's perspective a few days ago! Gordon would be at an extra disadvantage in the fight because he'd have to be careful not to accidentally bash Barney between his skull and the helmet while he's being smacked around.  Imagine Barney being tossed all over the small space, maybe ending up pinned when Gordon finally passes out. Noticing when a small stream of blood starts leaking from his friends mouth and soaking into his clothes. Gordon is completely helpless, and so is Barney as he hears the soldiers talking about what they're going to do with the body.  I just think that whole scene and the escape from the trash compactor would be so fun and exciting~ -

Also, unrelated, but I wonder how barney would wake up in city 17, if he did go into stasis with gordon. That is, since gordon is wearing a citizen outfit when he comes out of stasis, barney obviously can’t be in the helmet anymore. Maybe gman elects to move barney to a pocket somewhere instead lol. I’m imagining as soon as gordon is released from whatever effect gman had him under and he’s able to move again, he starts patting himself down looking for Barney (the same way one does when they forget which pocket their phone is in ), bc last he knew Barney was right up against his face and now he’s /not/, and that man SAID they’d be “hired” as a team so /where is he/ because Gordon needs to know he’s /okay/. As Barney is released from the same effect, he probably moves and makes himself apparent, so it’s only for like a second that Gordon is doing that.

_ Once again, I can't speak much to what would happen in a HL2 continuation of this story, but that sounds about right for an initial reaction scene.  Imagine Barney just coming out of it and being in some sort of... bag? being jostled around? He feels a giant hand pat over him from outside and he grunts in surprise. Then the hand rests against him and Barney realizes he's in a humans breast pocket, being held against someones chest as beside him a thundering heart slowly begins to calm. He figures this must be Gordon. He doesn't KNOW any other humans, and he can't imagine that man in the suit would be all that concerned about Barney's wellbeing.  _ 

Barney doesn’t know where they are/who else is out there at all ‘cause he can’t see from where he is, and Gordon can feel him shifting to lean out of the pocket and get a look, and he just puts a hand over the pocket, covering the opening in the process, and applies a gentle pressure for a couple moments, and Barney knows that means he needs to stay put because it’s not safe to come out yet. Thankfully Barney heard Gman talking to Gordon and addressing him by name, so he doesn’t have to worry about whose pocket he just woke up in. He would probably somewhat recognize Gordon’s gait/the feel of his hands at that point, too. As for how Gordon avoids boarding the train to Nova Prospekt without canon barney there to stop him, I have no idea.

  _ YEAAAH that is a good point. Barney is kind of vital for that role. Maybe we can slot a different character into his place. ^__^;; _

Oooh, going back a bit, maybe when the nihilanth is teleporting gordon around in the boss level, or from the very beginning when gordon jumps into the portal to Xen, they get teleported separately and end up in different places? (Ignoring for a moment the parts with portals in Black Mesa ^^;) That sure is an additional level of distress for the both of them during the Big Final Level(s). And then perhaps at the end, part of gman’s speech can be like, “As for your.. companion, you can rest assured he was recovered safe and sssound. After all, you two performed so well, together, it would be ideal to hire you as, a team.” Or whatever

_ Imagine Barney, stranded and alone on Xen, desperately trying to find Gordon, and having his OWN creepy G-man encounter. :U _

Our Barney AUs differ in some exciting ways and it’s fun to play in someone else’s sandbox for a while. :p I’ll probably cut my notes doc down into something readable and post it sometime in the near-ish future.. Either that or actually write the dang fic.

_ I would absolutely LOVE to hear about your AU too! So if you do either of those things, be sure to @ me!  Thank you so much for playing in this sandbox with me. I am ALWAY down to talk Borrower AU stuff. It's just so much dang fun! ^0^