#But it's just the things and people that really stick with you

[steddieprompts]

part 2 of this thing

The rest of the night the two sat on the couch, ate icecream and watched shitty comedy movies. Steve finally got Eddie to watch Major League and Eddie had to admit it was his favorite sports movie so far.

Eddie fell asleep on the couch as usual and Steve covered him with a blanket before heading to his room for the night.

They didn't talk about the situation with Tommy after that night. In all honestly Steve was happy to see the back of it as well as Tommy himself. Seeing him again was such a violent flashback to the person he was before... he didn't like thinking about it. He hoped Tommy loved New York so much he never stepped foot in Indiana again.

Of course Steve could never be that lucky.

It was a Monday night and the apartment was sweltering.

"I thought Daryl said he fixed the AC?" Steve said, fiddling with the knobs on the unit.

"Daryl says alot of things" Eddie's voice echoed from where his head was stuck in the freezer.

"Let's just go to the movies. At least their AC works," Steve grumbled.

Eddie pulled his head out of the freezer. "I'm in." He agreed and grabbed his wallet off the counter as he followed Steve out of the apartment... before shoving the handful of icecubes he snuck out of the freezer down the back or Steve's tucked in polo. His screech was so loud old lady Laski stuck her head out of her apartment to yell at them.

"Sorry, Muriel!" Eddie said through his cackling before they shoved their way out of the building.

Inside the theater the air was crisp and cool.

"Genius, Stevie," Eddie said, flipping his hair over the back of the seat and sliding down until his ass was almost off the seat. "I gotta pee," he announced and immediately stood back up. Jesus Christ he heard Steve mutter. "You want popcorn?"

"Nah. I'm good." Steve hummed as he closed his eyes.

After the bathroom, Eddie went to the concession stand and got himself a popcorn (large, because he knew Steve would steal some) and Steve a Sprite with extra ice.

When he turned away from the counter he nearly dropped it though. Across the room, just coming in the door, was Hagan.

Why was he still here? Shouldn't he be back in New York by now?

Eddie decided to ignore him... and the other guy he was with, some jock type Eddie faintly recognized from high school. He headed back towards the theater doors, but he wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped.

Before he could get into the theater, Tommy sidled in front of the door.

"Well look who it is," Tommy smirked at him. "Out without your little body guard?"

"Body guard? Who, Steve?"

"I know he was lying to protect you. I can't figure out why." Tommy said, taking a threatening step toward Eddie.

He had about enough of this.

Eddie mirrored Tommy, taking a step forward and getting obnoxiously close to his face.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Eddie said his name like he felt so so bad for him, "Steve, the love of my life, is right in there." He tilted his head towards the door, "And believe me, he wasn't protecting me the other night, he was protecting you."

Eddie stared him down for a second before suddenly sticking out his tongue and making a guttural hiss. Tommy startled and jerked back into his jock friend. "Enjoy your film... and try not to think about what's in the dark." Eddie said sweetly before slipping into the theater, but not without hearing Tommy mutter "Freak" as the door closed.

Eddie hustled back to their seats, nearly spilling half the popcorn on the way.

"Steve!" He whisper yelled as he came down the row. He didn't really need to whisper, though, as the only other people in the theater were a couple teenagers in the back. "Steve!" He said again as he plopped down in his seat.

"What? Is that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got you a Sprite, Tommy is here." Eddie said all in one breath. Steve nearly choked on the sip he took. "And I might have talked to him."

"Eddie..."

"And I might have lead him to believe that I cursed him or something. Hissed in his face."

"Wha... why?"

"He called you my body guard. Oh, and you're the love of my life now."

"Body gu... wait. awww you love me??" Steve said, sickly sweet and batting his eyelashes.

"Madly, darling," Eddie replied in his worst trans-atlantic accent. Steve chuckled.

"He seriously said I was your body guard?"

"Yeah he thinks we're pretending."

"Well fuck him."

"That's what I say," Eddie grumbled. He didn't like being called a liar even when he was one.

At the back of the theater the door opened and Steve peaked behind him through the seats and low and behold... Tommy Hagan.

"It's him," Steve grumbled.

"Huh?" Eddie asked, distracted by the movie previews.

"Tommy." He turned to Eddie. "You haven't suddenly developed boundaries in the last five minutes have you?"

"No, why?"

Steve surged forward, pressing his lips to Eddie's and cupping his jaw. Eddie made a surprised noise before pressing back, his hand finding Steve's waist, fisting his shirt.

After a few seconds Steve pulled back, meaning to look over at Tommy to cement the deal, but he got... distracted, watching Eddie's eyes flutter open, seeing how they danced over Steve's face as he processed.

"I see what the big deal is now," He finally said. Steve let out a soft chuckle, still enraptured by Eddie... and wasn't that a thought.

Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder, picking Tommy out in the dark, the light of the screen highlighting him. Slowly Eddie wiggled his fingers at him in a little wave.

Steve finally looked back at him, just in time for Tommy to storm out of the theater, his new cronie following behind.

"Wow," Eddie mused, "That worked surprisingly well." Eddie looked back at Steve, "You think he's jealous?"

"Dude!" Steve whined before sliding down in his seat.

"Think Tommy wants a little King action?"

"If you don't stop, I'm leaving you here and you can walk home."

Eddie cackled, settling down as the movie started.

But Steve couldn't concentrate. Kissing Eddie was... nice. To be fair, Steve hadn't been with anyone in a while but... that wasn't entirely the reason. He felt something he hadn't felt in a while. As cliche as it sounded... he felt a spark.

Maybe Eddie had felt it too.

The movie went by too fast but when they stepped back outside the sun had set and the heat had dissipated. Tommy was no where to be found.

As they drove home, Eddie was strangely reserved. They talked about the movie, about going to work in the morning, but the conversation didn't take any wild turns like they usually did. Steve didn't even have to scold Eddie for sitting sideways in the seat.

When they got back into the apartment Eddie didn't flop down on the couch or root around in the fridge, just said he was gonna head to bed before going into his room. Steve looked at the clock. It was only 8:30.

He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He brushed his teeth, changed his clothes, sat down and turned on the TV, but he couldn't ignore how strange it was. And it wasn't hard to guess why.

He shook out his shoulders before he knocked on Eddie's door.

"Yeah?" Eddie called from inside, Steve could here him quietly picking at his guitar.

"Can we talk? Please?"

The guitar stopped and Eddie opened the door, already in the ratty black Sabath shirt he usually slept in.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry... but I'm not."

"About what?"

"Kissing you like that. I should have... given you more warning."

"It's alright, Steve, I'm not mad."

"Maybe not, but something is wrong."

"It's fine, Steve, don't worry about it."

"No," Steve's hand shot out as Eddie tried to close his door. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I just... Please just talk to me, okay?" His hand dropped from the door, but caught Eddie's fingers on the way. He tangled them together before asking softly, "please?"

Eddie looked at their hands before saying "What is this?" He looked up at Steve taking a steadying breath, but it barely got rid of the tightness, the wobble. "What...?"

"Eddie, I know how this started but I can help but feel maybe... I dont know. I think there's something. Maybe we've been ignoring it."

"Are you fucking with me, Steve? Because I can't..." Eddie hated how his throat was closing up with fear, with hope.

"I'm not, I promise you," Steve stepped forward, tightening his grip on Eddie's hand, "I've never felt so at home with someone, so happy, and kissing you... Eddie. I can't let this go unless you tell me to."

Eddie swallowed, swallowed again, until he got enough courage to lean forward, softly, gently, and pressed his lips to Steve's for the second time that night.

The kiss was soft and gentle until he felt Steve smile against his lips and he couldn't hold back. He felt himself laugh as he pressed forward, Steve pulling him back until they hit the wall across the hall, laughing when it took Steve by surprise. They broke apart, Steve peppering kisses up Eddie's cheek to his temple.

"You uh," Steve said through a smile, "You want to go out sometime?"

Eddie threw his head back as his happiness and relief burst out of him in a laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart," Eddie smiled at him. "Let's go out."

[ode-to-fury]

Thinking about post veilguard rookanis like I always am and today I'm mulling over Illario and Caterina's reactions because like... there's been very many discussions about whether Caterina would like/dislike accept/not accept Rook and I don't think it's that simple. I think at first she assumes it's casual like it's always been for Illario because surely Lucanis wouldn't be that stupid? Surely he wouldn't fall in love and give himself that big of a weak spot? And then... Rook sticks. They get engaged, they're planning a wedding, Rook is already helping with First Talon things and it seems like that is actually the one thing making it bearable for Lucanis. And how the fuck is she supposed to handle that? Her poor little boy... is Rook good enough to stay alive for him? Should she kill Rook now to avoid heartbreak in future? Lucanis... what have you done?

And then Illario... man what would Illario think? Here is his cousin who has never shown any interest in the myriad of people Illario has seen show interest in him (because lets face it Lucanis is a handsome man there had to have been some Crows going 👀👀) so of course when Rook happens he probably thinks like oh it's a first love infatuation thing I remember when that happened to me. Three months from now I'll have the old Lucanis back and then... thag doesn't happen? Rook is a Dellamorte now. For so long it's only been the three of them and now... Cousin, you're really in love? I just like thinking about the idea that both of them don't really click how deeply Rookanis care for each other until it's way too late to do something about it

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: 10 fun facts about your future spouse

Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you 10 fun facts about your partner/future spouse. I hope you all enjoy it!

FREE READING: a subscription to my Patreon before February 7th, no matter the tier, will give you a free question of choice. I updated the overall look of my patreon so feel free to look!

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel > PATREON Masterlist [NEW]

The extended version (10 more fun facts) of this reading can be found on my Patreon, the link of which is here

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

1. They would love to draw you as their muse;

2. They enjoy shows that have incredibly dangerous and insane stunts (because why would you want to do that);

3. They can be very catty when it comes to their words if they’re annoyed; giving shade like a high-schooler;

4. They love their alcohol, but it has to be a specific kind;

5. They enjoy beautiful gardens and would love to have one to tend to themselves (but they aren’t good at it at all, you’ll probably be helping in the future);

6. Your future spouse loves thinking back to their high-school times with old friends, re-experiencing all of it;

7. Your future spouse is open to learning from mistakes and growing from past experiences;

8. Your future spouse would love to sleep in the forest with you sometimes; just you two, or your little family if you two have kids, in the forest with some fire and marshmallows on sticks;

9. They think a fun date in the future for the two of you would be picking fruits from trees;

10. They love acting as a joke; they have a whole alter-ego.

Pile 2:

1. Your future spouse enjoys driving cars a lot; they love the feeling it gives them;

2. They have a very small friend group (around 2 friends), but they’re so close they’re basically siblings;

3. Your future spouse has a tendency to let things go their way and just see what happens, even if preparing would’ve been a better idea;

4. Your future spouse will constantly giggle if they’re drunk;

5. They really enjoy cats, and most of guys their future spouse’s have had a cat when they were younger;

6. They find celebrating birthdays difficult and will act a bit ‘against’ it, but secretly they do enjoy it;

7. Your future spouse is good at imagining things (they prefer to imagine fantasy scenario’s);

8. Your future spouse loves being with friends and having a fun drink;

9. They will be causing mayhem to get a reaction out of you simply because they are bored;

10. They have a decent amount of influence on people; but they only really use it to fuck around and have fun.

Pile 3:

1. Your future spouse can enjoy a good book every once in a while;

2. They enjoy stargazing through windows something (they don’t prefer the outside often, given they get cold very quickly and dislike a ton of layers in order to do so);

3. They like circuses;

4. Your future spouse sometimes has nightmares, they’ve had this their whole lives. They have more then usual, and enough to be an issue in their lives;

5. Even though your future spouse will claim they’re not superstitious at all, they will always make a wish at a falling star;

6. Your future spouse loves to think about moral problems;

7. They would enjoy it to have a fish as a pet;

8. They’d like to sit in a dark forest alone and not do anything; they see the situation as something very peaceful and nice;

9. Your future spouse is very detail-oriented;

10. Your future spouse is often at the back near a wall at bigger gatherings, preferring to see everything instead of standing in the middle of it all.

[batbirdies]

To add to this. I totally understand the philosophy of “safe foods” as despite having a broad palette I have gone through periods of bad stomach and related health issues where suddenly everything grossed me out and I could barely make myself each much of anything. You shouldn’t feel pressured to push outside that zone if it gives you anxiety or there are obviously extenuating circumstances surrounding why you don’t eat anything but three or four foods like stomach upset and health related problems where the “safe” is extremely literal.

But outside of that it is still good to be curious. And it is still good to try new things! If a big part of your issue is trying foods in front of other people because you can’t hide your disgust reaction etc, start buying onsie towsie things here and there and trying them at home. And give yourself permission to throw it away if you still hate it. Or find someone to give the rest of it to if that bothers you.

Or take home your friends leftovers from that restaurant and try the meal when you are alone.

Even try just licking something instead of putting a whole bite in your mouth if you’re really concerned. That will give you a hint of the flavor without it being very strong and can at least indicate if you really really don’t like it and shouldn’t try anymore than that. Or if you might go “hm I cant taste that much” and try a little bit more. Also you are allowed to spit things out if you really hate them!

But it is truly good for you to expand the things you eat, for your health, for your life experience, for the lowered anxiety it can bring socializing when other people cook!

It is not always going to be doable, but I have found a lot of people really resistant to trying new foods is partially just because they have been constantly pressured into and then when they gag or cough or hate something and feel the need to swallow it anyway heightens anxiety and irritation and makes the entire experience bad from the get go so you never want to try anything new again and are immediately wary and defensive anytime someone brings it up. So to those people who do that- cut it out!!! You’re not helping!!

And to those who stick to safe foods - you’re allowed to, but if you approach things in a different way than you are used to and give yourself permission to get rid of the single portion of whatever you bought just to try instead of forcing it down - I think the experience can be much improved and you might actually find new stuff you like.

It is so good for our brains to experience new things, especially as we age when our lives become more routine and we just aren’t encountering new things all the time like we do as kids. If it can’t be food, and sometimes it can’t - still really try to find new things to experience regularly!!

My 30-something wisdom is that your palate is constantly changing so don't assume because you hated a food 10 or 20 years ago you still will. Most radically, your taste as a little kid is not indicative of what it will be as an adult-- I've known too many adults who still refuse to eat anything but chicken strips and ketchup because they're still basing their taste on what they experienced at 8 years old and so have cut themselves off from the entire world of adult taste. In my case, my taste for savory foods, especially vegetable dishes, "bitter" foods, and more complex flavor combinations has really expanded. I didn't like mushrooms as a child or for most of my 20s, but around 28 suddenly they worked for me. I started enjoying dark chocolate around 25, especially paired with fruit flavors. I've never been hugely fond of eggplant but discovered that in a sauce or roasted in butter and oil its delicious. I've always enjoyed fish but in the last 15 years I've discovered a passion for it, salmon especially. I've learned to recognize the tastes of herbs and love putting them into everything I can (currently I'm most enthusiastic about dill.) I'm also suddenly crazy about all kinds of sandwiches. And I'm still trying olives every couple years in case suddenly they start working for me, though sadly no luck on that front yet. So basically, expect that your taste is going to change in adulthood and expect that it will keep changing. And you can also work to develop your palate by exposing yourself to new flavors and combinations and cuisines, opening you up to even more foods you might never have liked before. So keep trying new and old foods, because you never know when you might suddenly start liking something new or discover a new way it can be prepared or a new texture it can come in. Don't wind up imprisoned in a world of chicken strips just because you haven't tried anything else since 3rd grade, you deserve better.

[wcnderlnds]

we're venus and mars, we're like different stars | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: you're a pink guard and find your annoying best friend in the games. ・❥・word count: 1.8k ・❥・warnings: drug mentions, death mentions, lots of swearing because its thanos. ・❥・ authors note: okay, this is a whole series i've been working on for a few days now and i'm hype for it so hopefully everyone enjoys it as much as me!! we in for an idiot best friends to lovers slowburn.

‘The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later.’

With a heavy sigh, you handed your phone over to the guard standing before you for safekeeping. It was pointless anyway. Su-bong wasn’t going to answer but you wished with your whole heart that he would. The last conversation you’d had with him worried you. Things hadn’t been going great for him lately but the way he’d been talking had really concerned you to the point you’d almost considered ditching your duties and sticking with him but you couldn’t. You’d made a promise many years ago and if you didn’t keep it, things wouldn’t end well for you. There was nothing you could do but hope and pray that your best friend was okay. It would only be a week until you could see him again at least.

Security checks to get into the games always took forever but finally you’d made it through, passing them with flying colours. They were very strict about, well, everything. They took your devices, patted you down just in case you were wearing a wire and questioned you for the passcode. Everyone who had taken the job to be a guard was told the code, never to share it with anyone else. It was so they could sniff out anyone who was trying to sneak in. There had been an incident three years ago where someone had disguised themselves as a guard, infiltrating the games. Since then security had been taken up a notch. 

Making your way to your small room, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to Su-bong. Hopefully he wasn’t doing anything stupid but knowing him, he probably was. Stupid was his middle name at this point. With a sigh, you pulled on your pink jumpsuit, the mask with the infamous square on it donning your face and you were ready for the games to begin. 

Crowds upon crowds of people filed through the stairs to where all the photo booths stood. This was the calm before the storm. These poor people had no idea what was coming. There was a part of you that felt sorry for them, the urge to almost tell them what was about to happen forefront in your mind. You couldn’t, though. In this place, doing the job you were doing, you had to be strong. Feelings in this place didn’t end well. That’s why whenever you were here you shut down. You became the person that was cold, calculated. Someone that abided by the rules and didn’t feel any remorse. It was the only way to get through. The only way to make this easier on yourself.

A commotion caught your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes glanced over to where it was coming from and instantly your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. The room suddenly started spinning, your hand reaching out to the wall to steady yourself. This could not be real. A wave of nausea hit you, the contents of your stomach threatening to resurface as you watched your purple haired best friend surrounded by a group of his fans.

It was no secret that Thanos needed money but how had he ended up in here? When you last spoke to him yesterday, he said he was probably going to try and find a few gigs to earn a bit of cash. His rap career had taken a bit of a downfall when he lost all his money thanks to MG Coin. It had all gone downhill from there. He started taking drugs, acting erratic like he wasn’t even on this planet. It broke your heart to see him so broken but no matter how many times you had tried to help him, he’d always denied it. That was the thing about Thanos; he was stubborn to a fault.

You had to get it together. As a guard, you couldn’t show weakness. Being weak was what got you killed and that was something you refused to let happen. Nobody would catch you slipping. You stood up straight, your heart still feeling like it was at the bottom of your stomach as you watched the scene unfold. You could handle anyone in here but him. If anything ever happened to him….

His voice echoed through your ears asking you if you wanted to be in the picture. Behind your mask, you rolled your eyes before explaining that it was only one person at a time. Making a cross with your arms, he waved everyone else away. He really didn’t give a damn. His face was etched with frown lines, his lips were constantly turned downward. It took all of your strength not to reach out to him and hug him. At that moment, he looked like he needed one. Or maybe you just did. Watching him walk away only made the beating of your heart increase tenfold knowing what he was walking into.

—————

Was he serious?

Your fists clenched at your sides as you watched Thanos pop one of his pills in his mouth from the control room. Eyes fixated on the screen as the dumbass chased his high rather than dealing with what he’d just witnessed. Understandably, watching someone die right in front of you for the first time was traumatic but what was he thinking taking one of those pills in a game like this?

Maybe you were also a little mad at him for flirting with the girl the second he’d laid eyes on her. It wasn’t surprising — he was a flirt, a player but you thought he’d have enough sense to realise nothing about this place was normal. The feeling of jealousy that had bubbled up inside you when you saw it wasn’t new. It happened all the time whenever he spoke of the girls he’d hooked up with. Your blood would boil while your brain would come up with ideas on how to get rid of said girl. It was solely because he was your best friend and you were scared of losing him. That’s all. Besides, he was the same way whenever you flirted with anyone. The amount of fights you’d had to talk him out of due to him being jealous of the guys you’d hooked up with were insane.

You were transfixed as you watched him dancing and jumping around the field. Oh, you were going to kill him. Never mind this place doing it, you’d take it into your own hands. He was really testing your patience. His reckless behaviour was something you’d found amusing in the past but now when his life hung in the balance, you hated it. The exhale you released when he finally jumped over the finish line was loud enough for a couple of other guards to hear. Nobody questioned you, though. The perks of being higher in the ranks. 

During the dinner hour, you made sure you were on duty in the main dormitory. Even if it was against the rules — something you always tried to stick to in here — you needed to talk to Thanos. So, when you caught him heading to the bathroom, you followed. Once you were close enough, you grabbed his collar and pulled him to a secluded corner.

“What the fuck?” He groaned as you pushed him against the wall, his head hitting it. Not hard, he was just dramatic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, pulling your mask off. Thanos’ eyes widened in an almost comical manner. Was he high and imagining you?

“Obviously, I’m dreaming right now. Bet in two seconds you’ll be on your knees su-“ You glared at him almost daring him to finish that sentence. “I’m joking. I’m joking, damn. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here is the better question! Are you out of your mind?” You released your grip on his collar, taking a step back.

“Relax, I’m good. Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, baby. Now, answer my question. Why are you here and wearing that fuckin’ outfit?” His eyes scanned the pink jumpsuit, his fingers pointing at you. He couldnt wrap his mind around the fact you were here let alone as one of the guards. His sweet, caring best friend being one of the people who shot anyone who lost was something he was going to have a hard time accepting.

“…I work here every year. Have been for about five years now. It’s good money and helps keep me afloat. I’m not proud of it, okay? I hate it here, I hate this whole thing but… when an opportunity shows up, you don’t ignore it.” Your mask was held in your hand by your side, eyes glancing down towards it. 

Thanos held his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “Ain’t judging you. I just pushed three people so if you’re making money by killing people then whatever.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Ah, but it is. Are you or are you not killing people here?”

Your head hung low in shame. It’s true, you were. The money you were earning came at the cost of people’s lives. Thanos reached out, his finger on your chin tilting your head up so your eyes could meet his. The concern in his matched your own. He could be high as a kite but he would always make sure you were okay. In his shitty life, you were the only thing that mattered. The thing that got him through the days.

“I know you know what you’re doing but be careful, you hear me?” His tone was stern, his deep voice causing little flutters in your stomach.

“I should be saying that to you. Don’t go getting yourself killed, Su-bong. I’ll try and help you as much as I can but there’s only so much I can do,” your voice was barely above a whisper as his thumb brushed against your cheek. He’d taken a step closer, his breath fanning across your face. He was a touchy-feely person, he always had been but never before had his touch made you feel like this. You put it down to the situation you were in. The pounding of your heart and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were nothing more than nerves, obviously.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble for little old me, Senorita. I’ll be fine,” he winked, his signature smirk on his face. “I really need to piss, by the way. You gonna let me go, guard?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside. However, before you could pull your mask back on, Thanos pulled you into his chest, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and the other around your body as he hugged you close to him. You could hear his heart pounding against his chest, your own matching his rhythm. As your arms wrapped around him, you couldn’t help but wonder if you both really would make it out of here alive.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @justsisse @djarindroid @angelofbooksworld @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @sassyyoyo @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind @belladonna-303 @seunghyunwifey

[animamii]

Angels Get Their [Chicken] Wings | Toji Fushiguro

another au origin story of lockedup!toji x sweetheart!reader

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

The air is thick with smoke and cheap perfume, the low hum of music vibrating through the dimly lit club. Toji slouches in a worn leather chair, one arm draped over the back, the other nursing a glass of bourbon. Swirling it absentmindedly. His dark eyes flick lazily over the girls twirling on stage, their slow, sultry movements barely holding his attention. He’s seen it all before.

Then he notices her.

Perched on one of the high chairs near the bar, she sticks out like a sore thumb—like a goddamn angel who took a wrong turn and ended up in hell. A cute little outfit hugs her figure, sweet but entirely out of place. She’s not here for the show; she’s not vying for attention or throwing cash. No, she’s eating. Picking at a plate of food like she’s sitting at a cozy diner instead of a dingy strip club.

Toji furrows his brows, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The hell is a girl like that doin’ in a place like this?"

Curiosity burns through the haze of bourbon, and before he even registers it, he’s on his feet. Moving like a predator with no real prey, he saunters over, his heavy boots making little noise against the sticky floor. He leans against the table she's sat at, tilting his head as he takes her in up close.

"You lost, sweetheart?" His voice is low, rough with amusement. "Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone eat a damn meal in a place like this."

She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes, lips still wrapped around a forkful of food, and Toji suddenly wonders if he just found the most interesting thing in this whole damn club. She blinks up at him, chewing slowly, as if genuinely processing his words. Toji watches as she swallows, then dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin before answering.

“Well,” she starts, her voice light and sweet—too sweet for a place like this. “The food here is actually really good.”

Toji’s brows lift. He wasn’t expecting that. He expected nervousness, maybe even fear. But this girl? She just smiles at him, unbothered, like he’s not some imposing stranger who’s way too interested in her presence.

“You eat at strip clubs often?” he asks, leaning a little closer, forearm resting on the table. The scene is oh so contrasting, Toji facing the shadows, face barely visible in the dimness. Whereas her face seemed to glow under the slowly strobing-colored lights that shined towards her. Toji swears he can see a halo floating above her head.

She shrugs, taking another bite. “Not all of them. But this place? Their wings are top tier. Plus, the make the best fried pickles in town.” A dimply smile appears on her face as she pops a fried pickle chip into her mouth.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Cute.” He watches her, amused by the way she swings her legs absentmindedly, so damn comfortable in a setting that should have chewed her up and spit her out.

“You come here alone?” he asks, scanning the room out of habit. He doesn’t see anyone watching her, no jealous boyfriend or overprotective friend lurking in the shadows.

She nods, cheeks full from another bite of food. “Mhm.”

He scoffs amusedly, lip tugging to one side with a smirk. “You got a death wish or somethin’?”

She tilts her head, expression still impossibly sweet. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

Toji grins, sharp and wolfish. “Nah, sweetheart. But not everyone in a place like this is as nice as me.” She giggles at that, and Toji swears it’s the most out-of-place sound he’s ever heard in this dingy club. Like a damn bell ringing in a haunted house.

“Nice?” she teases. “That’s not the vibe you give off.”

Toji smirks, amused by her boldness. Most people knew better than to poke at him like that. But here she was, all soft edges and sweet smiles, like she had no idea who she was talking to. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care.

“That so?” he muses, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Then what kinda vibe do I give off, sweetheart?”

She hums in thought, tapping a finger against her chin. “Hmm… dangerous.”

Toji grins. Smart girl.

“And yet, here you are, sittin’ all nice and comfy next to me.”

She shrugs again, unfazed. “I dunno. You don’t scare me.” Something dark and intrigued flickers in Toji’s eyes. She doesn’t scare easy, huh?

“You probably should be,” he murmurs, just loud enough for her to hear.

She just smiles, takes another bite of her food, and looks at him with those wide, innocent eyes. “But then we wouldn’t be having this fun conversation, would we?” Toji huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Yeah, this girl? She’s trouble. Trouble wrapped up with a pretty pink bow.

Toji watches her, lips curling around the rim of his glass as he takes a slow sip of bourbon. She doesn’t squirm under his gaze. Doesn’t shy away like most would. Instead, she just keeps eating, twirling a fry between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. The damn audacity.

He sets his drink down with a heavy clink. “You always this bold, sweetheart?”

She grins, tilting her head slightly. “Only when I meet someone who piques my interest. There's something inter”

Toji chuckles, low and deep. Interesting. That’s a new one. He’s been called a lot of things—dangerous, terrifying, a goddamn nightmare—but never interesting.

“You got a name?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the bar.

She hums, lifting her drink to her lips, it's not even alcoholic, just a shirley temple with too much syrup. “Maybe.”

His smirk widens. Oh, she’s playing with him now.

“You’re a little tease, huh?” He leans in, just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore. She smells sweet—like strawberries and something warm, maybe sugar or dulce de leche. It’s all wrong for a place like this, too soft, too damn inviting.

She doesn’t move away. Just meets his gaze with those wide, curious eyes. “Would it kill you to be a gentleman and introduce yourself first?” Her pink lips turn into a small, almost teasing smile.

Toji lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, sweetheart. Name’s Toji.”

She perks up, finally setting her fork down. “Toji… That’s a cool name.” For a second she looks him over, repeating his name in her mind. Toji, Toji, Toji... It has a nice ring to it.

“I know,” he drawls, a little cocky. “And you?”

She presses her lips together, as if debating whether to answer. Then, finally, she sighs dramatically. “I guess it’s only fair. I’m—”

A crash echoes from the back of the club, cutting her off.

Toji’s body tenses on instinct. He doesn’t even think—his hand goes to his waistband, brushing against the familiar weight of his weapon. Old habits die hard. With vigilant eyes he glances toward the noise, spotting some idiot getting shoved against a table, drinks spilling everywhere.

Just a bar fight. Nothing he needs to worry about.

But when Toji turns back, sweetheart is watching him with an unreadable expression. Not scared, not startled. Just… observing. Like she caught something interesting in that split second.

“You always this jumpy?” she asks, resting her chin on her hand.

Toji snorts, letting his shoulders relax. “Tch. Habit.”

She hums like she’s not fully convinced but doesn’t push. Instead, she picks up her plate again, casually continuing her meal.

Toji leans back, eyeing her with something akin to amusement and curiosity. “You’re real calm for a girl sittin’ next to a guy like me.”

She giggles. That sound again. Soft, light, so fucking out of place. “Maybe I just trust my gut,” she says simply, the prettiest smile on her face.

Toji raises a brow. “And what’s it tellin’ you?” In all honesty he's so confused by her. The soft, seemingly innocent way she looks, she's sweet and tender but isn't fazed by any of the maliciousness that radiates off of him. It freaks him out a bit.

She pops another fry into her mouth, then smiles at him like she’s got him all figured out. “That you’re dangerous, but not to me.”

Toji stares at her, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then, after a beat, he lets out a low, rumbling laugh. “Sweetheart, you got no idea what kinda trouble you’re askin’ for.”

"Ohhh I think I know exactly what kind of trouble you are, Toji." Her voice is like sugar to him, and he's waiting for the next time he gets to hear his name roll of her tongue in that candied drawl.

Toji watches her, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. This girl is something else. Most people—smart people—would have taken one look at him and kept their distance. But here she is, sipping her sugary drink like she’s not sitting next to a man who could snap her in half without breaking a sweat.

He leans in just slightly, elbows resting on the bar, voice dropping into something lower, something meant to dig under her skin.

“You got a thing for danger, sweetheart?” She must have if she's in a shady place like this, even if it's for their damn good lemon pepper and parmesan wings.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shrink back. Instead, she taps her fingers against her glass, girly acrylics making soft sounds against the cup. Long lashes fluttering, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe,” she muses. “Or maybe I’m just good at knowing who’s worth being scared of.”

Toji huffs out a laugh. Cocky little thing. “And you decided I ain’t?”

"Yup, my intuition is telling me that I'm safe. Don't gotta thing to worry about when it comes to ya, I feel it in my heart," she places her dainty hand over her chest.

"That so?" Something inside of Toji softens as she says that.

She nods, completely sure of herself.

Toji leans back, his smirk slowly fading into a more genuine, intrigued expression. Her confidence in trusting him—of all people—was both surprising and... refreshing. It was rare for anyone, especially someone like her, to feel that way in his presence. Most people would’ve sensed the danger, the raw unpredictability that lingered around him. But not her. She was too calm, too sure of herself, and he couldn't quite figure out if that was a foolish move or the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

His gaze softens ever so slightly as he watches her, the flickering lights casting a warm glow on her face, making her seem almost untouchable. The contrast between them—the dangerous aura he exuded, and the sweetness she carried—was something he couldn't look away from.

"You sure about that?" he asks quietly, eyes locking onto hers.

She smiles that little, too-sweet smile of hers, the one that seems to carry a secret she’s not sharing, and nods again. “I trust my gut. It’s never wrong.”

Before he can press her further, the bartender swings by, wiping down the counter. “You botherin’ my best customer, Fushiguro?”

Toji barely spares the guy a glance, eyes still fixated on her. “Tch. She don’t seem too bothered.”

The bartender shakes his head, chuckling. “She’s here every week. Sits right there, eats her food, minds her business.” He glances at her, amused. “But looks like she made a friend tonight.”

Toji hums, rolling his glass between his fingers. “That right?”

She just smiles, unfazed. “Maybe.”

The bartender chortles, moving away, and Toji lets the silence stretch between them for a moment. Then he rests his chin in his palm, watching her with something between curiosity and amusement.

“You really come here for the food, huh?” Toji looks down to see her little feast, a bunch of appetizers. Wings and fried pickles, mozzarella sticks and fries.

She nods. “Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Not the entertainment?”

She glances toward the stage, where a girl is languidly spinning around the pole. “That too,” she admits, shrugging. “They work hard. It’s kinda nice to just sit and watch.”

"I don't think I've ever heard someone admire strippers in that kind of way," Toji chuckles again, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink. He’s starting to see her in a new light. Most people came to places like this to get lost in the chaos, to escape. But her? She seemed like she was here for the simplicity of it all, for the food and the show, without all the mess that came with it.

"It takes a lot of skill and strength to do something like pole dancing and stripping. Both physical and mental. Plus they dress really pretty," a small, admiring smile sits on her lips and she watches the girls dance on stage.

“You got a good head on your shoulders,” he remarks, watching her with a newfound softness. “You're too kind. Not many people like you would last long in a place like this, especially not alone. You don't seem like you belong here.” Toji's eyes flicker over her again. She looks fresh as a daisy, perfect in this place full of weeds.

She meets his gaze, her expression soft but unwavering. “Maybe I don’t,” she agrees. “But I like to think everyone belongs somewhere, even if it’s somewhere unexpected.”

Toji tilts his head, intrigued by her answer. Most people would be rattled by the place, maybe even scared, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t scared of him either. That was... new. “You really not worried about me?” he asks, leaning in just slightly.

She just smiles, a little mischievous now. “You don’t scare me, Toji. I told you. I trust my gut.” Something stirs in him at her words. A strange warmth mixed with a flicker of respect. Her confidence—it wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t naive—there was something genuine about it, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He leans back again, eyes never leaving her. “You're somethin' else, sweetheart.”

She grins, dipping a fried pickle into ranch, “Guess we both are.”

The night drags on, the club’s atmosphere shifting into something hazier, maybe even a little shadier. The lights dim further, the music slows, and the crowd thins to the usual stragglers—lonely men nursing cheap drinks, exhausted dancers collecting tips, sniffers going to do lines in the bathroom, and the occasional drunk stumbling toward the exit.

But she is still here. Sweetheart. Sitting pretty, sipping her drink, looking like she belongs in a cozy café rather than this rundown joint.

And Toji? He’s still watching her.

He isn’t sure why he hasn’t walked away yet. Maybe it’s the way she’s completely unbothered by him. Maybe it’s the way her voice lingers in the air, light and teasing, a stark contrast to everything he’s used to. Or maybe he just likes the idea of something soft sitting so close to something dangerous.

“So,” he muses, resting his forearm on the tabletop as he angles himself toward her. “What’s a sweetheart like you do when you’re not sittin’ in a place like this?” Toji had never cared to get to know people—hated it honestly—but he was oh so curious about what this pretty little thing does when she's not in an ugly place like this.

She hums, tapping her nails against her glass. “You mean, when I’m not eating overpriced wings in a strip club?”

Toji smirks. “Somethin’ like that.”

Leaning back slightly, her doe eyes flicker to the stage where one of the last dancers of the night is finishing up. “I work, go to school. I read. I go out sometimes.” She glances at him, lips quirking. “Nothing as exciting as whatever you do though.”

Toji's eyes widen for a split second before he chuckles, low and deep. “You say that like you know what I do.”

She tilts her head, playful but observant. “I have a pretty good guess.” Plump, pink lips wrap around her straw as she takes a long sip of the drink that's just as sweet as her.

“Oh yeah?” Shifting closer, Toji rests his chin in his palm. “Let’s hear it, then.”

A slow exhale leaves her lungs, watching him like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “You carry yourself like someone who’s always watching his back. You sit where you can see the whole room. You don’t like people sneakin’ up on you.” She twirls the straw in her drink. “You’re dangerous but controlled. Not reckless. So… I’d say you’re either in some very shady business, or you used to be.”

Toji just stares at her for a moment. Then, a slow grin stretches across his lips.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, letting out a short laugh. “Ain’t you a sharp little thing?”

She returns his grin, taking another sip of her drink. “So I was right?”

Leaning in, Toji's voice dips low. “Maybe.”

A satisfied hum vibrates through her chest. “Figured.”

The bartender passes by again, wiping down the counter, and Toji takes the opportunity to order another drink—for her this time. She blinks when the fresh glass is slid in front of her, tilting her head in question. It looks just like the shirley temple she was sipping on earlier, but lingers with the scent of vodka.

Toji just smirks. “On me, sweetheart.”

She raises a brow, but there’s amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what do I owe you in return?”

Toji taps his fingers against the wooden table, watching her with something unreadable. “Just keep talkin’ to me.” Her lips curl, and Toji swears it’s the most dangerous thing he’s seen all night.

“Deal.”

The drink sits between her fingers, untouched for a moment as she studies him. The club hums around them, but Toji barely notices anymore. The distant bass, the murmured conversations, the occasional clink of glass—it all fades into the background. All he sees is her.

“So,” she starts, picking the vodka-soaked maraschino cherry out of the glass. “You gonna tell me one of those stories now?” Dangling it a bit, she takes a bite, the syrup and vodka dripping from her lip, which she quickly licks with a swipe of her tongue.

Toji smirks, resting his chin in his palm. It almost looks adoring, really. “That eager to know my business, sweetheart?”

Leaning in slightly, she mirrors his posture, her expression playful but steady. “You offered.”

Damn. She got him there.

He exhales through his nose, debating how much he wants to give away. He could make something up, spin a little tale, see if she’d buy it. But for some damn reason, he doesn’t feel like lying to her.

“Hm.” He rolls his glass between his fingers. “Alright. I’ll give you somethin’ light.”

She perks up, smiling as she props her elbow on the bar. “I’m listening.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he swirls the remaining bourbon in his glass. The amber liquid catches the dim light of the club, casting warm reflections against his fingers. “There was this job once,” he starts, his voice slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring the memory. “Some rich asshole wanted a guy handled. Nothing fancy, just in and out. Easy money.”

She hums, propping her elbow on the table as she watches him with interest. “And?”

Toji lifts his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a deliberate clink. His eyes gleam with amusement. “And it was easy… until the guy’s wife walked in.”

Chin resting in her palms, her brows lift, interest sparking in her expression. “Oh?”

Toji huffs out another chuckle, rubbing his jaw as if he can still feel the impact of what happened next. “Yeah. She was holdin’ a fuckin’ frying pan. Came swingin’ at me like she was in a damn action movie.”

Her reaction is instant—she gasps, covering her mouth with her fingers, but it does nothing to muffle the laughter spilling out. “No way.”

“Toji’s honor,” he says with a lazy smirk, lifting a hand like he’s swearing on it. “Damn near cracked my skull open. Had to duck real quick.”

She’s still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, love makes people do crazy shit.”

She tilts her head, resting her chin against her palm, still grinning. “And what happened after that?”

Toji snickers, rubbing a hand over his jaw before reaching for his drink again. “Left the guy tied up, made my exit, and let the missus deal with him.” He takes another sip, savoring the heat before adding, “Never took a job on a married man again. Too much trouble.”

She’s still grinning, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s actually kinda funny. You know, that kinda reminds me of this movie.”

"You talkin' bout Tangled, sweetheart?"

She blinks, caught completely off guard. “Wait—you’ve seen Tangled?” There’s a tinge of surprise in her voice, like she can’t quite picture him—a towering, scarred, broad-shouldered hitman—sitting through a Disney movie.

Toji shrugs like it’s no big deal. “’Course I did.” He glances down at his drink before muttering, “Really like that green fella, the lizard.”

Her lips part before a laugh bubbles up. “The chameleon?”

“Yeah, whatever the fuck he is.” He waves a hand dismissively before taking another drink. “I like ‘em.”

She shakes her head, still giggling. “I just… I can’t believe you sat through an entire Disney movie.”

Toji smirks, looking her over with a lazy kind of amusement. “What, big bad Toji can’t enjoy a damn cartoon?”

She grins, tilting her head playfully. “I dunno. Just figured you’d be more of a Godfather or Scarface kinda guy.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, even a guy like me needs somethin’ lighthearted every now and then.” He gives her a pointed look. “Not like I got a lotta folks sittin’ me down for movie night.”

Her smile softens just a little, something unreadable flickering in her expression. Then, she perks up, grinning again. “Well, since we’re already on Disney movies, I’m dying to know—what’s your opinion on The Lion King?”

Toji exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Ain’t even gonna start with that one. That movie’s got more family trauma than me.”

She bursts out laughing again, and for a second, Toji just watches her, something warm curling in his chest. He likes the way she laughs—soft but full, like she’s not just being polite. Most people look at him and see something to fear. Something sharp and dangerous. But her? She's over here talking Disney movies with him.

“So,” he finally drawls, stretching his long legs out. “My turn.”

Her laughter fades into a curious hum as she blinks, tilting her head slightly. “Your turn?”

Toji straightens just a bit, his elbows still resting on the table as his scarred lip curls up. “Yeah. Told you a story. Now you owe me one.”

She hesitates for the first time all night, lips parting slightly before pressing together. Toji catches it—the flicker of uncertainty, like she’s debating whether she should play along.

Then, after a beat, she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I don’t have any stories about frying pans and hit jobs.”

Toji chuckles, low and rough, shifting slightly in his seat. “I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”

She hums in thought, tapping her nails lightly against her glass before her gaze flicks back to his. There’s something playful there, something challenging. Then, after a moment, she leans in, lowering her voice like she’s about to tell him a secret. “Okay… how about this?” Her lips quirk. “Once, I walked into a bar, and this really dangerous man bought me a drink.”

Toji snorts, shaking his head. “Real funny.”

She grins, clearly pleased with herself. “It’s still happening, so I haven’t figured out how it ends yet.”

There’s something about the way she says it—something light, teasing, but with just enough truth underneath to make him pause. He watches her carefully, studying the way she tilts her head, the way her fingers absentmindedly trace the condensation on her glass. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hesitation, just that same quiet curiosity that’s been there since the moment he first spotted her in this place.

“That so?” he murmurs amused, voice dipping lower.

She nods, slow and deliberate, lifting her glass slightly in a silent toast. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and see.”

Toji huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat. Trouble. This girl is pure trouble.

The club is quieter now, the air thick with the lingering scent of alcohol and now faded perfume. The neon lights overhead flicker intermittently, casting an uneven glow over the bar. Most of the patrons have trickled out, leaving only the stragglers—some finishing their drinks, others too lost in inebriated conversations to notice the late hour.

Toji stretches, rolling his shoulders before settling back into his seat. He’s still watching her, the pretty little thing sitting across from him, grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Like she isn’t sitting next to someone most people would cross the street to avoid.

He taps his empty glass against the counter once before looking at her. “Guess it’s gettin’ late, huh?”

Following his gaze to the clock on the far wall, her doe eyes slightly widen as she makes a soft noise of surprise. “Damn. I didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy enjoyin’ my company, sweetheart?” Toji can't help but smirk for the umpteenth time that night.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his dark hair. “Flatter me any more, and I might start thinkin’ you like me.”

Tilting her head, she watches him with that same mischievous glint she’s had all night. “And if I did?”

Toji holds her gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He could play it off, tease her right back, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets the moment settle, the air between them thick with something unspoken.

Then, finally, he exhales, grabbing a few bills from his pocket and tossing them onto the counter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.”

She raises a brow. “What, afraid I can’t make it to the door on my own?”

“Nah,” Toji says, standing up and stretching lazily. “Just wanna make sure no one else tries to scoop up my company before I’m done with ‘em.”

An airy laugh leaves her lips as she shakes her head, but she slides off the stool anyway. As they make their way toward the exit, Toji’s hand naturally finds its place at the small of her back—not pushing, not pulling, just there. A quiet kind of possessiveness, the kind that says he’s keeping an eye on her, whether she needs it or not.

Outside, the night air is cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the club. The street is nearly empty, the distant hum of traffic the only real sound cutting through the quiet.

She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. “You know,” she muses, “I don’t usually stay out this late.”

Toji hums, lighting up a cigarette and taking a slow drag. “Yeah? What made tonight different?” He finally gets a good look at her. How tiny she looks compared to him, her arms wrapping around herself as she shields herself from the soft breeze of the late night.

She glances at him, something playful yet sincere in her expression. “Guess I just wanted to see how this story ends.”

Toji exhales a slow stream of smoke, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “And?”

She smiles. “Still figuring it out.”

Toji shakes his head, smirking as he flicks ash from the end of his cigarette. “You’re trouble, sweetheart.”

She grins, and Toji finds it fucking adorable. “Yeah, well… I think you like trouble.”

He chuckles, low and rough, before nudging her forward. “Go on, get home before you really start testing that theory.”

She takes a step back, watching him like she’s committing him to memory. Then, with a playful little salute, she turns on her heel and walks off into the night.

Toji watches her go, taking one last slow drag of his cigarette before huffing out a laugh. He realizes he didn't get her name, but he knew he wanted to get into just a little more trouble with his little sweetheart.

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

another meet cute but I triedddd to make reader more softer. keyword 'tried' bc I always love when she keeps up with Toji. oh whaleeee!

[arbitrarykiwi]

Hiiii I was wondering if you had any thoughts about mean nam gyu :3 holding your head down into the pillows and plowing you from behind even when you cry!!! And like trying to reach behind you to slow him down and he just grabs your arm 😵‍💫 sheesh I just know he can fuck someone through the mf mattresss I’m like going insane

You Can Take It

do I have any thoughts about mean namgyu??? OH BOY DO I!!!! Lemme tell you when I got this request I was jumping for JOY!!! I could not stop thinking about it. I just know, I FEEL IT IN MY SOULLLLL, that this man could fuck you dumb into the mattress EASY!! He definitely also has a huge thing for fucking you until you cry

Warnings: smut (18+), in the squid games, rough sex, fucked dumb!Reader, exhibitionism (fucks you in the main room) choking, spitting, oral (m and f recieving), deepthroating, name calling (slut/whore), dirty talking, dacryphilia (he fucks you till you’re crying), read at your own risk

You found yourself pulled into a group with Thanos, Nam-gyu, Semi, and Min-su. It wasn’t really your idea, you remember after the first game, and after you voted to continue playing, Nam-gyu had approached you.

Well approached isn’t very fitting. He had grabbed your wrist as you were passing by, pulling you back to him. He simply said, “You’re sticking with me. You’re mine.” And you weirdly agreed.

You hung around him and the rest of the group from then on out. He was super touchy- always wanting to be near you but…he was also mean. He would scoff at anything you said. Try to argue with you over the smallest things. But then he would ruffle your hair, rub his thumb against your cheek to calm you down after the second game. It was weird. But hey, you needed all the people in your corner you could get.

During the game of Mingle, after multiple rounds and the players getting increasingly frantic as tensions rise, the group number was 3. When Thanos grabbed Min-su and Nam-gyu into his side you were sure you were going to die.

You were pulled away by a stray group of two men, rushing you to a door. You never got to see how Nam-gyu was fighting out of Thanos’ grasp to try and team up with you.

When the game was said and done you found yourself hurrying back to the purple hair you caught in the crowd- because where Thanos was, Nam-gyu would also be. After the game all you found yourself wanting was to be near him. It was weird. You figure the trauma of this hellhole made you bond to him in some odd way.

He was colder than usual, he allowed you to be near him, to lean on him. It was embarrassing, really. All you wanted was some sort of comfort or attention, a hand on your shoulder or even a him ruffling your hair like he normally did…but nothing.

So eventually when lights out came around, you made your way to your bunk. You sat down on the edge of it, looking down at the concrete and your white shoes- well used to be white now they are a sick red color. Dried blood. You stand up and begin kick off your shoes, stretching once done to try and ease the ache in your bones.

You straighten up when footsteps approach. The lights dim but you can make out the bold white ‘124’ of the jacket patch. “Nam-gyu?!” You ask in a whisper, surprised.

“You really are dumb aren’t you?” He growls, taking steps closer to you. His gaze is dark, angry. It’s also mixed with something you can’t pin point. Your face turns into a scowl, moving to back up with each step he takes towards you. “I’m not dumb.” You retort, “What the fuck are you even on about??” You say in a hushed voice.

“That stunt you pulled at the game today.” He says through clenched teeth, backing you against your bed, the back’s of your knees hitting the sides of the metal frame, nearly making you fall down. “What part of sticking with me do you not understand?” He growls, his face a few inches from yours.

Before you can even think to move one of his hands grabs your face in a bruising grip. It hurts, you’re sure he could break your jaw if he wanted to. You suck in a shaky breath, he’s so close, the metal of his rings sting your skin in an ice cold bite, was he always this hot?

What the fuck are you thinking??

You shake your head of the thought and furrow your eyebrows, realizing what he meant. “It was 3 to a room. You and Thanos had Min-su.” You hiss out, “I was also grabbed- pulled away. I wasn’t about to fight it and get myself fucking shot.” You growl out, was he really that serious?!

Ever since you he pulled you into their odd group he wasn’t the friendliest to you. It was weird, he was oddly protective but he would only ever scoff or mock anything you said. Sure he said ‘you’re sticking with me, you’re mine’, but with how he treats you, like you’re an annoyance for joining the group- why the fuck would he care if you went another group during Mingle.

“I told you…” he growls out in a low hushed rumble, tilting his head to look at you better. In the light that seeps through the windows of the doors at the front of the room you can see him taking in every bit of your face, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he breaths in a breath. “…to stay with me. ‘N I would have thought you were smarter, could follow directions…” he whispers, coming closer so as he speaks his lips brush against yours.

You chock it up to the days of carnage around you changing you into a different person- because you have no idea why you’re not slapping him, you didn’t usually take shit like this and you’ve gotten into plenty of fights, you could fight him off. But you don’t.

Instead you find yourself feeling so very hot, a warmth beginning to blossom deep inside you; a feeling you know all too well. To say you’re a little ashamed is an understatement…but fuck, you might die tomorrow. That thought of death looming over your shoulder throws most of your dignity out the window. And you succumb to the delicious feeling in your lower stomach that you’ve been trying to fight.

“That being said I came to teach you a lesson.” He says, pulling back from you the slightest bit to look down at your lips- admiring how they’re slightly parted, allowing him to feel your shuddering breath against his skin. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine…and I’d say I’d made a good claim on you, told you, you were mine from the get go, yes?” He hisses in a hushed tone through his teeth. The tone of his voice, one you have never heard when you were around him before. It’s deeper, rougher, desperate even.

It has you speechless, thighs squeezing together without you even thinking about it. When you don’t respond his hand connects with your cheek. It’s not hard, it’s quick and sharp, a light sting to get you to focus. And as fast as his hand connects with the flesh of your cheek, it’s back to jaw in the same bruising grip as before.

“Y-yes you did.” You choke out, and he grins in response. “Thaatssss riiighhttt.” He draws out in a heinous, mocking tone. “So I think ‘s only fair that I teach you a lesson on how to properly fucking listen right?” His smile widens, his hand not on your jaw comes to settle on your lower back, pulling you against him.

You only bite your lip and nod, your hands grounding yourself on his chest. “Good.” He laughs, and then he’s on you in an instant. His lips collide with yours in a rushed, nearly frenzied motion. It’s involuntary, but you whine into the kiss.

His hand drops from your jaw, both hands moving under your jacket and shirt to grab at your waist. His hands were warm against your cold skin. You could feel the multiple silver rings, the metal nipping coldly at your skin.

He was unforgiving to say the least, the kiss had you incredibly hot. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth expertly, tasting all your mouth had to offer. You don’t even realize one of his hands has removed itself from your hip and has attached itself to your throat.

It’s a rough grip, enough to make you let out a choked gasp, eyes shooting open as he pulls away from the kiss. He can see the way your pupils are dilated from the way the dim light catches your eyes. He scoffs, “So pathetic…you enjoy this. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?”

You open your mouth to speak but he interrupts, his other hand gliding across your waist and moving down your stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of his sweatpants. “Mhm…” he lets out in a low growl, fingers untying the knot of your sweatpants stings.

“‘S all you needed, someone to set you straight. Probably so worked up because no one’s fucked you like the whore you really are…” his grin widens, his eyes never leaving yours, his hand on your neck squeezing; the other hand is dipping under the material of your track suit sweats and under your panties.

His hand splays across your pubic bone before running his long slender fingers through your folds. His eyes widen when he feels just how wet you already are. “Yeahhh….” He drawls out, almost in a hushed coo, “‘S exactly what you need, ain’t it?” His fingers rub against your entrance, playing with your folds for a couple seconds before gliding his fingers up and against your clit as he draws his fingers out of your pants.

He pulls his fingers up in front of your face, spreading them out so you can see your arousal web between your fingers in thick, sticky strings. You let out a strangled moan, it’s a silently sound due to the pressure on your neck.

He chuckles softly, bringing his fingers up to your open mouth and shoving them against your tongue- forcing you to taste yourself. Your lips instinctively wrap around his ringed fingers, sucking the digits into his mouth, tongue swirling around to clean his fingers off.

He hums in approval, “Trying to win me over, huh, sweet thing? Tryna be good…” he laughs, his fingers shoving themselves further down your throat. You gag around them, making him let out a low moan. “But it doesn’t work like that…no….you still have to be punished sweetheart….needa show you that I meant it when I said you are mine.” He rasps, a hungry, lustful look in his eye.

In a second he’s pulling his fingers from your mount and picking you up, tossing you onto the bed. He’s onto of you in a second, straddling over your form. His hand presses against your throat, just admiring how his hand look against you. It trails down your sternum, over the swell of your breast before gripping at it harshly through the material of your shirt and bra.

It has you arching up into him, a soft moan falling from your lips as a plea for more. He’s lifting his hand, grabbing the hem of your shirt and bunching it up, lifting it up above your bra. He sits back on your thighs, looking down to admire you.

“Prettiest set of tits I’ve ever seen..” he growls, hand not holding your shirt up working to pull down your bra. When your tits are out on full display he sucks in a breath, head diving down to capture a nipple into his mouth. He’s biting and sucking relentlessly, his other hand on your other breast kneading the flesh in his large hands.

It was a while since you felt any sort of attention like this and with the situation you’ve been stuck in the past couple days, it’s like an itch that’s finally being scratched. It’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You let out a large sigh, arching into him.

Your hands come up to entangle in his hair, trying to press him even further into him. His teeth and tongue are relentless, lathing over your hard nipple and working around suck bright red marks into your skin.

He pulls back with a wet ‘pop’, smiling down at you with the same wicked grin he’s had since this whole thing started. Like only he knows just how truly ruing you were about to be.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you…” he says scoffing down at you. “Going to fuck you dumb so all you remember is my god damn name.” He growls. Suddenly he’s moving off of you settling at the foot of your bed, kneeling, and as he moves he’s pulling you up into a kneeling position to mirror him.

“But can’t fuck you right now…” he growls, hands gripping your face, squishing your cheeks together. “No… that would be a reward not a punishment…” he chuckles, his hands drop to push down on your shoulders. You know what he’s trying to insinuate, you comply, sinking down onto all fours, facing towards him so his hard, clothed cock is directly in front of your face.

You look up to him, the look in your eyes making him laugh in a low, degrading tone. He’s gripping the back of your head and pressing your face into his erection. It’s filthy. He’s smushing your cheek against his cock, rubbing it up and down, the fabric of his pants feeling abrasive against your cheek.

“Just needed someone to set ya straight….no one’s ever put you in your place.” He hums down at you, you’re looking up at him with an angry glare but you’re not pulling away. “Awh…what’s that look for?” He laughs, “you’re jus’ provin’ my point sweetheart, you’re nothing but a brat who needs the attitude fucked out of ‘er.”

He’s pulling your head back far enough for him to grip at his pants and underwear pulling them down. His cock springs out, falling against your face with a hearty ‘plap’. You can’t help the gasp that you let out, both feeling it and seeing it for the first time.

His hand moves to the top of your head as he holds you still, his other hand on your cheek, using thumb to hold his cock on your face. He’s thrusting back and forth, dragging his thick length along your face. You hate that it makes you all the more hotter. You can feel the way your panties stick uncomfortably to your cunt, your arousal surly begging to soak through your track suit pants.

Yet you still look up at him with the same defiant expression, like you hated him. But he knew you didn’t. “Keep that expression, girlie. Just makes me harder.” He growls pulling his hips back. His hand that’s not holding your head grips the base of his dick, rubbing the leaking red tip over your lips. “Actin’ so mean and angry when you’re just achin’ to suck my cock ain’t ya?” And in response, you part your lips.

“Heh…yeah you are.” He muses lowly, pushing the head of his cock into your warm lips. He removes his hand from the base of his cock, grabbing the hem of his shirt in his hands and pulling it up out of the way. You keep staring up at him, watching as his head throws back and his chest heaves as he draws in a large breath.

He pushes his cock deeper, letting out a low groan as he draws his hips back the smallest bit to only sink back into the heaven that is your mouth. Your tongue flattens out, taking more of him in, relishing in the taste of him on your tongue. His hand that rests on the top of your head wastes no time to push you down the length of his cock. You let out a choked sound of surprise that only makes him laugh.

“You really thought I was gonna go easy on you? Are you that dumb?” He scolds, grinning down at you wickedly, your eyebrows furrow at his words, letting our muffled sounds of protest as you look up at him with a scowl- or the best one you can make with his cock shoved in your mouth. “Yeaaahhh…” he drawls out, “keep looking at me just like that…” he continues through gritted teeth as he pushes his cock further into your mouth, the bulbous tip beginning to press at the back of your throat.

You let out a muffled gag around his cock, the movement of your throat only allowing him to sink further in. Yet, he realizes your hands are still by your side- you’re not even bracing against him or trying to jerk off the length that’s not in your mouth.

“Ahh look at that. Maybe you are good for something if you can’t listen. Good fucking cock sucker ain’t ya?” He laughs, rocking his hips a couple times before pushing the back of your head hard- sinking your mouth all the way to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone.

You gag around him, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, your eyes screwing shut. His hand that’s not on your head comes in contact with your cheek in a few quick, sharp, taps. “Oh no, open your fucking eyes and look at me.” He orders. You obey, your eyes opening, glaring at him from tear soaked lashes.

He tilts his head, beginning to pull you up and down his cock, making sure every time he sinks into your mouth, he’s sinking balls deep. His heavy balls hit against your chin with every thrust. “That’s it, looking at me so angry when you’re gladly taking my cock down your throat” He mocks, pushing you down so your nose brushes the dark hairs that surround his cock. You choke around him, muffled gags of protest just causing more spit to bubble up and escape your mouth.

He pulls you completely off of him, you’re turning away and coughing, spitting, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. His hand in your hair roughly jerks your head back to look at him. “Did I say you can get clean? You really don’t know how to fuckin’ listen.” He growls, before you can react, he’s spit directly on your face and shoved you back down on his cock.

You moan out around his cock, it pains you how much being used like this turns you on, but fuck does it feel so good. When you look up at him this time, your eyebrows aren’t furrowed in anger- but upturned in a desperate look as if you wanted to do nothing but please him.

“Thaatss it..” he growls, his words slurred, eyes trained on you as he fucks his dick impossibly deeper into your tight throat. “You just like being’ used, fucking slut.” He says chucking, pressing your face all the way to the base of his dick to make you choke again. “Say it, say you like it.” He says lowly, drawing his cock put your throat ever so slightly.

With watery eyes you try to speak around his cock, responding with an ‘I like it.’ But it just comes out as garbled chokes, the words hardly able to be made out but it’s exactly what he wanted. “Yeahhh you do, fucking bitch.” He says, thrusting his cock in and out of your throat in a brutal pace.

And you just take it. You can feel your cunt dripping in your pants, the sticky arousal that weeps out of you coating your inner thighs.

You’re sure the other players around you can hear the debauched, wet, sloppy sounds you were making as you suck his cock, taking him in so greedily despite the tears welling up in your eyes and the lack of breath available to you that his cock in your throat causes.

He reaches the hand that’s not in your hair down to cup your jaw, chuckling darkly has he hooks his thumb in the corner of your mouth. It makes you so embarrassed. It causes even more drool to slip out of your mouth and your mouth to ache even more than it does. “See, now you’re not looking up at me all pissy, just needed a cock in your throat to calm ya down.” He laughs, shaking your head side to side on his cock by the thumb that’s hooked into your cheek.

You whine out around his cock, your drool beginning to cover your shirt, the white fabric becoming visibly darker and beginning to stick to your skin. He pulls his thick length out of your throat, a large amount of bubbly spit being pulled away with it. You gasp, catching your breath.

“Bet you’re fucking soaked you slut. I just know choking on some cock gets ya’ all nice n’ sloppy.” You bite your lip and whine silently, you don’t want to agree but you know it’s true. Your panties are stuck so uncomfortably to your cunt, your arousal now soaking through your track suit completely- leaving a dark wet patch all over the crotch and inner thighs of the fabric.

He’s quickly turning you back around away from him and pushing you to all fours once again, his hand is pressing on your back forcing you into an arch. You can feel his hand run up your spine and grip at your hair.

Your face is shoved into the mattress, it’s rough, causing you to fall over with a choked whine ripping through your throat. He’s leaning over you, his thick cock grinding itself up and down the valley of your ass, his head right next to your ear. “I knew a whore like you would love to be manhandled, isn’t that right?” His words are a mocking, almost evil titter, hissing into your ear as his hips rock against your ass. You can feel his erection through his pants.

You’re infinitely glad that your bunk was one in the far corner of the large room, the shadows of the other bunks and the dark room shrouding what you know was surely about to happen. You know you’re horrible for even thinking this- but you’re also thankful that the many bunks around you weren’t all full, a large number of the people who used to surround you were killed off by the second game.

And he knew that. When lights out came, and he knew he had to teach you a lesson. He took his opportunity.

He’s hovering behind you, his hands running down your back, to your waist, and then your ass. His hands quickly move back up to the waistband of the tracksuit and pulling the material down your legs to be bunched around your ankles.

You try to turn your head to look at him but his grip on your hair tightens, it’s relentless and mean- you’re sure some strands of hair were ripped out. But it only causes your cunt to weep desperately, arousal only beading and dropping in thick, gooey strings onto the sheets.

“Nuh-uh..” he growls “you’re not calling the shots here.” He emphasizes his words has his hand pushes you deeper into the plush pillows. “You’re going to sit there, like the compliant slut you are. N’ you’re gonna let me use this sweet cunt, isn’t that right?”

The fingers on his other hand that wasn’t in your hair run softly over your ass, it’s a strange soothing motion. As his hand runs lower though, it’s soon apparent that the feather light, almost delicate motion was just to throw you off. His hand comes in contact with your pussy, giving it a hard slap.

You cry out, body jerking forward. His palm grinds into your clit, a delicious pleasure awarded after the sharp sting of the slap. “Fucking answer me.” He growls, his hand that’s manipulating your face to pull it out of the pillows some, allowing you to look at him.

“Y-yes, mhmm.” You whine out desperately, your head trying its best to nod despite his hold on your scalp. He lets out a low chuckle, feeling your hips push back into his hand. He got you exactly how he wants you. No more of that bratty attitude. No more talking back to him.

“No fuckin’ shame…just desperate to be touched” he chuckles out, sitting back up, his hand pulls back from your pussy, sticky ropes of your arousal stringing his hand to your cunt. “Haven’t even done anything and you’re drenched. That’s how much of a slut you are? Hm? Just so needy for some cock.” He mocks, his fingers running through your folds.

He’s simply addicted to the sight of your swollen cunt, desperate to take whatever he gives and just continuously spilling milky white arousal. The sheets below you are stained a darker color, a pool of evidence doing nothing to help your case.

You can only whine, “P-please, p-please.” You chant out and he only laughs. “You poor thing..” he chides, sitting up and leaning over you to smile wickedly at you. “You want it bad? Huh, sweet thing.” He says, his voice oddly softer, his hand gently brushing your hair back out of your face.

He looks at you tenderly, mirroring your pout. You nod, tears starting to build up in your lashes having been needing him inside you for so long. “Mhmm.” You hum out, rocking your hips against his palm that cups your pussy. “Want it so bad… wan’ you.” You mumbled out, looking up at him like some kind of doe eyed prey.

“Should have thought about that before you decided to be a fucking bitch.” And the wicked grin is back, he’s going to take his time with you.

His hands grip at the globes of your ass, letting out a low growl. He pushes forward, spreading you open nice and wide for him. You can’t help but to shiver when the cold air of the room hits your pussy. It’s embarrassing, you can’t see him but you know he’s just staring at your weeping hole.

“Such a cute lil’ pussy…” he hums out, making sure you can hear his words. Two of his fingers run up and down your cunt, lightly petting at your clit. You bite your lip, a muffled ‘mhmm’ coming out of your mouth as you feel his fingers touch exactly where you needed him.

“Doesn’t take much to get you dripping does it?” He says with a laugh. “Just running my fingers over your clit and being mean to you..” he says, pausing to spread his two fingers, moving your lips aside to show your clit fully. “..makes your little cunt cry f’me…” he says watching with a trained eye as a new thick, white drop of your arousal pushes out your entrants and runs down, collecting on your clit.

He hunches back over your arched form so his mouth is right by your ear. “How filthy can you be? I mean really, letting me use you like this…here? Sobering all over my cock and whining like a bitch in heat when my fingers are touching your pussy…do you not have any shame?” He rambles in a low gravely tone as his fingers just play with your puffy cunt.

It’s feather light touches that have you gripping the pillow and trying to push your hips back into his fingers for more. He just laughs at your desperation, pulling his hand back and siting back up so he can have a perfect look at you.

His hand pulls back from your sopping heat and he spreads his fingers, admiring how messy his hand already is. His palm and fingers glisten with your arousal, a wet shine that has his cock pulsating angrily in his pants. He wants nothing more than to sink balls deep in your tight cunt- but that’s what you want, and he can’t give you what you want.

He spreads you open, his hands gripping harshly at your ass, spreading you wide so he can truly see the mess he’s made of you. The stretch causes your back to arch, pushing your hips back towards him, calling out a weak cry of his name.

One of his fingers stretches to circle around your tight hole. It’s a light touch that has you shivering. It’s not nearly enough to drive you to the release that you desperately needed. His eyes are fixated on your pussy, fingers dancing along your entrance, watching as you clench and spasm around nothing.

“If I knew this is all you needed to set you straight…” he mumbles, a single finger pushes into your wet cunt, a moan is ripped from your lips as you finally get what you needed most. “…I woulda done this the first day here. Made sure you knew who you belonged to.” He rasps, his single finger beginning to pump in and out of you.

He’s entranced by the way his finger disappears in your tight heat to be pulled out covered in your milky white arousal. When he pushes his finger back in, feeling your tight walls suck him in, gushing even more syrupy wetness out, his tongue is licking at his lips.

“So tight..” he mumbles, his hand that’s nod busy fucking you still holding your ass, fingers clawing into your flesh to keep you spread open for him. “How are you even going to take my cock, pretty girl? Gonna have to get you ready, hm?” He coos at you as another finger begins to push into your entrance.

The stretch of his two fingers is enough to have you moaning out a choked call of his name. His fingers move expertly in you, scissoring themselves and working you open. You’re gushing around his hand, covering his pale fingers and knuckles with your wetness. It makes every thrust of his fingers into your cunt a noisy, sloppy wet sound resonates. Anytime his fingers slam back into you, another sob is wracked through your body.

His fingers spread themselves, opening your hole up to him. You can only whine and hide your head in the pillows, you don’t think you’ve ever been this vulnerable and for some reason you’re allowing it to happen at the worst time and in the worst place. You can hear a low, gravely rumble come from his throat when he watches your pink cunt gape around his fingers, entranced at the way he can see your cunt try to clench around his fingers that hold you open for him. He leans in and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted when his tongue dives deep into your pussy between his spread fingers, licking around your walls like he’s already addicted to the saccharine taste of your cunt.

He pulls back with an obnoxious slurp that has you whining in embarrassment. He sits there for a moment, basking in the taste of you on his tongue. And you’re fucked, because he thinks it’s better than any high he’s had. No drug rush could compare to the euphoria the taste of your cunt gave him.

He’s on you in an instant, mouth engulfing your cunt and sucking your clit into his warm mouth. It’s filthy. His nose is pushed into your entrance, rubbing into you and sniffing like a dog. When he releases your clit, his is tongue laps at you in large encompassing licks, you can tell it’s not for you but for him. It’s like he’s drunk off your arousal. Every loud, obscene slurp and shake of his head has you crying out, your hips circling back onto his face.

You can tell he’s truly just eating you for the sake of tasting you, teasing you relentlessly by never running directly over your clit. He’s around it, tip of his tongue just millimeters away from when you needed it most but he never gave you that sweet release. Every bit of arousal that spills from your abused cunt is swallowed greedily by him.

You shake and writhe against him, fingers tearing into the bedsheets as you try to catch your breath. But he never lets you, so just have to sit there and choke out sob after sob as he slurps at your pussy.

When he pulls away you cry out, trying to push your hips back, seeking out the solace that was his tongue. He’s standing back up and placing his hefty cock against your ass, still wet with your spit from taking him down your throat it allows him to slide easily between your ass cheeks. He’s humming to himself, the image of your perfect ass underneath his aching cock. The plush of your ass squeezing against the side of his length as he rocks against you.

“You gonna stick with me from now on, sweetheart. Gonna fuckin’ listen?” He says, his voice softer than usual. You can hardly form a coherent thought let alone string together an answer. You nod your head dumbly. He growls, his hand connecting with your ass in a painful smack, hard enough to imprint his hand into your flesh, the skin becoming red and raised. You keel over moaning out a broken sound that was probably his name- it was so shaky and wrecked you couldn’t tell.

“Use your words. C’mon now I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already acting like a dumb whore.” He says in a low rasp, hand smoothing over the area that’s raised in the shape of his palm. “Y-yes I will…” you sob out, pushing back against him. “‘M yours!” You whimper, turning to look back at him.

He raises an amused eyebrow, “ohhhhh….” He says in a sweet coo, gripping your ass roughly with both hands, “That’s it, didn’t even have to ask you to say it…good fucking girl….”

He’s suddenly drawing his hips back and lining up with your dripping hole. He’s pushing in without any restraint, bulling his fat cock into your cunt until he’s balls deep. You’re sobbing out into the pillow, it doing little to muffle your wrecked sounds. He’s so fucking big it feels like you’re being split in half. You feel him so deep inside you, you feel like he’s going to permanently etch the shape of his cock into your walls.

His head is thrown back, his hands gripping into the plush of your ass, nails breaking skin. The heaven that is your tight cunt granted him just what he needed to get him through these games. You’re so wet and so warm and you’re squeezing him So. Fucking. Tight.

“Knew this sloppy cunt would be perfect f’me.” He hisses as he begins to slowly draw his hips back. The drag you feel when his thick length pulls out of you is intense, it has you nearly sobbing into the pillow below you.

And just when you think you’ve adjusted to the violent stretch that he imposes on your cunt, his hips begin to pound into you. You’re surging forward, biting your lip so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood as you try to keep quiet. It’s useless though, the wet sounds of skin slapping on skin and the thick smell of sex is enough to give you two away regardless of the noise you make.

He’s fucking brutal. Both hands are releasing your ass and moving up to your head, his thumbs are overlapping each other while his other fingers tangle into your hair. He’s shoving your face, hard, into the thin pillow of your bunk, every sharp thrust of his cock deep into your swollen cunt has you surging forward on the bed. You can’t even move, not one bit, the two hands on the back of your head pushing you down so hard you can’t even twist your head. All you can do is sit there and take it.

Your cunt is gushing around him, every thrust of his hips sound off a wet sloshing sound. “Making a mess out of my cock you filthy fuckin’ thing.” He growls, positioning his hips into you at a pace that has you seeing stars. Every time his balls slap against your clit, pushing his thick cock deep into your tight walls, the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix. “Can you hear your sloppy cunt?” He muses into your ear, his hips drawing out slowly and jackhammering back into you in long, deep thrusts, making sure you hear every wet squelch of your pussy.

It’s a punishing force that makes you begin to sob out, your hips driving back to meet his thrusts pathetically as tears begin to well in your eyes. His hand pulls your head off the pillow the slightest bit, using your hair to yank your head to the side- shoving your head back down into the pillows with a harsh movement of his hand when he maneuvers your face where he wants it.

When he sees your face streaked with tears and your lashes clumped in wet bunches a wicked and sadistic grin creeps across his face. “Oh!? You fuckin’ cryin’?” He laughs, his thrusts becoming even harder, the wet slap of his pelvis against your ass becoming so rough it nearly stings every time he connects against your ass. “What happened? Thought you could take it. You’re a big girl aren’t you?” He mocks.

You can’t even speak to respond, you’re quite literally being fucked dumb. All you can do is cry and take it. It felt so fucking good but it was too much. His hands still at the back of your head, fingers gripped tightly to your hair and using it to drag you back into him, it leaves you no where to run.

You reach back behind you, your hand trying to push at his torso, crying out a choked moan, “H-holy fuck! P-please ‘s too much.” You beg your hand desperately pushing against his stomach, though it does absolutely nothing to stop the relentless jackhammering of his hips. He just scoffs, adjusting himself quickly, his hands grabbing both your wrists and crossing your arms behind your back.

“Nuh-uh you’re not running away from me, you’re going to fucking take it.” He growls. He’s able to hold both your arms behind your back with one of his large hands, his grip was definitely going to leave purple and blue hues on your skin. His other hand is back on your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair and hauling you upright- your back flush with his chest, “Gonna. Take. Every. Fuckin’. Inch.” His words are punctuated by long, deep strokes up into your cunt that split you open. When he finishes his sentence he stills balls deep inside you, grinding his cock into your cunt.

Tears soaked your face, your eyes were red and puffy, and raw pussy was still being abused by his thick length that grinds slowly in you. You let out a sob, your face turning to the side to try and look back at the absolute beast of a man that was fucking you dumb. His hand releases your hair, coming up to latch onto your throat.

He hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can look at your face, when he sees your tear stained faze, drool covered lips and hears the pathetic breathy whines that flip between ‘too much’ and ‘harder’, he lets out a deep moan that makes your body shake against him. “You look so pretty cryin’ f’me.” He muses, the hand on your neck trailing up your jaw so two of his thick fingers could push themselves into your mouth.

He presses his fingers deep into your mouth, pressing on your tongue and holding your jaw open. Drool just pours out of your mouth, dirtying the white shirt you still had on even further. It was sticking to your skin, the warm, wet damn fabric becoming see through as you keep messily babbling around his fingers.

“Just taking whatever I give you,” he hums happily at your debauched state, “Messy fuckin’ girl, you just love getting fucked dumb by me don’t you?”

Your eyebrows are upturned and you nod in response as you try to thrust your hips back to get him to begin pounding into you again. “You think you deserve to cum?” He’s mocks, his hips slowly driving up into you in short thrusts. He finally removes his hand from your mouth for you to respond. You look at him, your eyes desperate, “F-fuck yes…please. I need to-“ you choke out a whine when he begins to slowly pick up his pace, “I-i need to cum. Ohmygod please!” You babble.

He stares at you for a moment taking in your fucked out state. Usually you were so bratty, so defiant, a scowl or quizzical look always on your face- not now. No, now you’re looking at him like he’s got your life in his hands, like you’re utterly devoted to him and that’s what exactly what he wanted.

“Mhm…yeaahh…” he hums, leaning over to kiss you, it’s slow and meticulous, a drastic contrast from the erratic way his hips hammer his cock deep into your pussy. “You look like you deserve it now, go ‘head and cream on my cock you slut. Let everyone here know who makes you feel like this.” He murmurs in a low, tantalizing voice.

His hand drops from your neck to your clit, rubbing furious circles around the neglected bundle of nerves. You’re straight up sobbing now, it’s so fucking much. His fingers on your clit, the relentless way his thick cock abuses your cunt, and the way he’s dragged out your release for so long makes you cum so hard your vision goes dark.

You’re gushing around him, crying out his name as he uses his hand still holding your arms behind your back to drive you down onto his dick, riding out your orgasm. He’s following right behind you, the way your cunt spasms around him, like a vice that’s trying to suck him in and keep him there, makes him cum deep into your pussy.

“Gonna cum so fucking deep in your slutty cunt..” he growls out. You fall limbless against him shaking as you feel him pump you full of his thick cum, and as he gently thrusts up into you, riding out his own orgasm, you can feel it being pushed out of you. There’s so fucking much. And he’s letting out the most beautiful sounds in your ear as he cums and cums, hitched breaths and low groans of your name spill out of his lips.

Both of you are breathless, he holds you against him, rocking his softening cock into you a couple times before pulling out. You hiss from the movement, the absence of his cock filling your pussy makes you feel so empty now. Before you can look back at him to say anything, he’s pushing your arms into your back and forcing you to fall back forward.

His hands are back on your ass, spreading you for him so he could see the mess he made of you cunt. Your whimpering and writhing against the sheets, any sort of stimulation of your pussy is overstimulating. “Quit complaining.” He growls, eyes entranced by the look of your abused cunt- red, raw, puffy and covered in a mix of your arousal and his cum that was pushed out of you. He grins to himself hands massaging inwards, pushing towards your pussy, you moan out, hands gripping the sheets desperately.

His movement causes his huge cum load to begin to drip out of you. The feeling is filthy, you’re whining and shaking against his touch. His fingers move to scoop the large glob of his cum that was dripping out of you, two fingers intruding into your pussy to fuck his cum back into you. “If you were as good as I thought you were you would have kept it all in and we could have avoided this, sweetheart.” He laughs.

“But you-“ you go to talk back, to rightfully blame him for making it spill out of you but he cuts you off by removing his fingers and dragging his tongue up your cunt once before pulling back. “Enough of that.” He scolds, a hand smacking against your pussy.

He scoots back and works so haul your pants and underwear back up your body. “Gonna keep these on the rest of the night, you’re gonna sleep with my cum leaking out of you like the whore you are…” he growls, leaning back over your arched form so his lips are right by your ear “Then tomorrow you’re gonna meet me in the morning for the next game and stick by me…isn’t that right?”

You nod and look up to him. He places one last kiss on your lips, it’s oddly soft compared to the rest of what just occurred. He’s brushing your hair out of your face and pulling away slowly. He doesn’t waste time, he’s hauling himself off your bed, tucking his soft cock into his pants and headed back over to his bunk.

You collapsed into jelly on your bed, finally beginning to catch your breath. You couldn’t think, your head foggy, the only idea in your mind was the one that involved immediately going to Nam-gyu’s bunk in the morning. Maybe he’d reward you for listening so well.

If what just happened was a punishment you could only excitedly imagine what his reward would be.

OH M GEEE this was so scrumptious to write. I hope yall enjoyed!!! Requests are still open im makin my way through them slowly but surely! I also wanna start letting yall know what requests I got cookin up next everytime I post a request

Next up I got more thangyu content!! First I got one just about the general dynamics of the relationship out of the games (gonna be sfw with little nsfw snippets)

Then… you guessed it MORE THANGYU!!! It’s gonna be them passing’ you around like a blunt, complete nsfw

After that…MORE THANGYUUU BABY!! I got a wonderful ask for a thicc!reader x thangyu smut with double penetration and lots of love for thighs n tummy’s

Thank you guys as ALWAYS!! Your support means the world - <3 kiwi

[brutallyboned]

I think there are a lot of reasons this happens. Like OP said, honing 'finishing' skills rather than drawing. Another thing is the need to just get a lot of work done out of fear of becoming irelevent, coming up with a workflow you can do over and over again, and sticking to it. I feel like I'm trying really hard to break out of this now, doing a lot of gesture drawing without erasing--pushing myself to do loose and dynamic work, completely ignoring my typical workflow, but I always feel it trying to pull me back in. What's worse is that that work isn't going to get engagement. Very few people give a shit about seeing my gesture drawings and practice and most non artists don't really understand how vital it is to improving as an artist. The more time I spend on it, the less time I can make fanart that I can post, BUT the better that fanart will be in the longrun.

Also very frustrating to see all of these people not getting what OP is saying--those attitudes are in part what makes us feel like "I don't have the time I need to work on these things, I need to make fanart with 100% of my drawing time because people don't get it"

nothing sadder to me than when an online artist posts a side by side of the same picture from 5 years ago / redrawn this year, and the first one is fluid and energetic and full of character, and the second one is flat and static and clean to the point of sterility

[primofate]

Once upon a time there was this fanfiction that I read... [Genshin Spin]

TW: Death, angst, misunderstanding

It was a very, very long time ago, maybe in 2008. I can't even remember what anime it was anymore, but I'm taking those memories and that idea and spinning it into Genshin.

If anybody knows which fanfiction I'm talking about, please let me know as I would LOVE to read it again.

Pick a Genshin Character of your choice.

In the story, you were arranged into a marriage to him for efficiency's sake. As all arranged marriage tropes go, you gradually and actually fall in love with each other.

However, before the wedding happens, you find out that there's something undesirable about him.

For instance, Tartaglia's thirst for battle and his connections with Fatui.

Diluc's guardedness, and how you always felt like you never got the whole of him.

Wriothesley's past. How he has killed people.

Alhaitham's lack of emotion and his logic first approach.

Scaramouche's terrible mouth and lack of respect for anyone at all.

Xiao's unwillingness to open up to you.

Zhongli's experience which far surpasses yours. Sometimes it's like you're not even on the same wavelength.

He gives you a chance to back out of the arrangement. And you, being young and fearful, decide that there is still much of the world for you to see and more people for you to meet. This man can't be the one you'd spend your life with.

So you leave.

Years pass and the more you see of the world the more you realize that no one in this world is perfect at all and, strangely, you find yourself yearning for someone your heart already knows. Your past, arranged lover.

Sure, there were a lot of things wrong with him, but there were also a lot of things wrong with you and when you finally find him, he's even more guarded than before.

He did really take a liking to you back then, so now as he sees you approaching again, you can't blame him for the caution that he shows.

You don't exactly pine for his attention nor his love. But you accepted that you had to start all over again.

You start by getting to know him again, what he's been up to, what he likes to do, what his goals are in exchange for stories of your own. You support him as much as you can, and fondly take care of him as you did before, maybe even more.

Truthfully, to someone looking from the outside, it pretty much looks like you're clinging on to him and in some senses, you are. You took him for granted back then, but you're now willing to repay that mistake with genuine love and care.

Until one day, the enemies you've made come looking for him. You've just been sticking to him real close these days that it's hard to get a hold of you alone, when it's easier to bully you.

So, your enemies feed him lies.

"Duke Wriothesley, correct?"

"Master Diluc, right?"

"Iudex of Fontaine,"

"Former Geo Archon,"

"Balladeer"

and proceeds to tell them a secret that only you would know.

"Y/N? She's disgusted that you killed your own parents."

"She thinks you're pathetic, grovelling over your father's death,"

"Uncaring. Justice always comes first over everything else,"

"You bore her, talking about history the way you do,"

"Pah! Why would she bother with someone rude like you, really?"

and your enemies deal the final blow.

"We've paid her to follow you. Why do you think she's come all the way here looking for you again? You don't really think it was for you? All your secrets? She's sold them to us for a hefty price. Enough to cover her for a lifetime,"

and perhaps it's hard to imagine him believing it on first thought. But this was a man you had already turned away from once and then just happened to reappear into his life randomly again.

So the next time you come looking for him, smile on your face, packed lunch and all... He looks at you with a cold gaze, and accuses you of things you had no idea about.

"Leave. You've made yourself clear,"

"Get lost. You're even more disgusting than I am,"

"I know you're being paid, so cut the crap,"

"You can stop acting now,"

And you... Poor you who really just wanted to gain his favour. Who really just wanted a second chance to love him again, try to ask him what he means but he responds with despise.

"I know why you've been following me. Stop acting like you care and leave,"

Hurt, you leave without further questioning him. Not even a day later, your enemies come knocking at your door. Finally, you're alone.

Finally, they can make a move without worrying about that pesky man of yours.

And finally... they kill you. Just like that, in your own home.

Fortunately, he knows your new address.

Fortunately, he comes looking for you after a few days of mulling over his words. Perhaps he just had to hear your side of the story first. He didn't let you talk last time out of anger, but maybe this time it would be clearer.

Maybe this time it would be different.

Maybe this time...

...

...

...it would be the end.

Does it fit into a Genshin context?

If this is a trope, what trope is it?

What similar tropes like this have you read and liked? Would love to read them :D

Kinda reminds me of a MAFIA thing and I feel like it fits more into that but for the life of me I CANNOT find the fanfiction anymore. It used to be on fanfiction.net

:(

[inumkii]

mha boys working at a bakery

included: bakugou, kirishima, denki, shouto, and a little dabi feature

okay this prompt except its not awwww cute baker au! inspired by my old job, it was a bit miserable but i try to look back on it fondly

bakugou’s one of the bakers, almost always opening at 6am. there's a rare occasion where you're scheduled to open with only him and he's there early, prepping the dough with faint classical music playing in the background. opening shifts with him (and shifts in general) can be quite nice because he tends to mind his own business while you cover the counter, but you have walked in to him yelling at denki for leaving the scones in the oven for too long. i would say he’s pretty quiet when he bakes as long as no one else gets in his way. feel free to talk about whatever as he bakes because for you, he’ll silently listen. for anyone else, he’s complaining that they’re distracting him- unless! two people are talking mad shit or gossiping on the clock, he’s secretly listening in.

saturday morning opening shifts are your favorite because the two baker and two counter combo is almost always bakugo, kirishima, mina, and you. the reason why you put up with the miserable opening hours is because kiri and mina loveeeee to gossip about everything they’ve learned throughout the week between your coworkers and bakugou chimes in with additional information that no one else knew. you guys are surprised every time but he just shrugs it off.

kirishima is a sweetheart who does all the tasks that you don’t want to do. ask him to cover mopping tonight? done. need the stack of 50 sheet trays carried to the back? he’s taking care of it. he’s normally baking in the morning but he’ll close from time to time and you always know you’ll be out early when you see his name on the schedule.

denki takes closing shifts more often because he likes to call dibs on the pastries that didn't sell that day. he works at the counter more than baking,,, we all know why.. but he insists he can do either!! for everyone’s sake, especially the customers, you stick him behind the register.

i do think large group orders freak denki out so you have to stand next to him and help him ring them up every time. you really can't tell if he's pretending for the sake of having you by his side or if he genuinely can’t do it. (its a bit of both)

you guys have a closing checklist where you have to sign your name next to every cleanup task after completion but you and denki both hate doing the same things. so he’ll be a pain in the ass and sign his name prematurely on random tasks so you’ll get stuck on mopping duty. sorry. this is getting self indulgent but your personal favorite task is to take the chalk board advertisement for the bakery back inside at the end of the day. after a 7 hour shift, its a nice thirty second walk outside. somehow denki finds out that you love that task so he starts beating you to it. its gotten to a point where someone will innocently ask if anyone's taken in the sign for the night and there's a split second where you guys look at each other before immediately racing out the front door to see who can get to it first.

shouto is a gentleman!!!!!! he’s always there in the daytime, takes the 9-4 shifts mostly. hired as a baker but he took the counter once and he really charmed those old ladies popping in for their morning muffin so he’s kinda been defaulted to the front. you’ve been guilty at handing the phone to him when a wholesale order has gotten too confusing and he’ll kindly take over. he’s become the face the regulars see the most when they walk in due to the nature of his shift times.

you mostly catch shouto for an hour or two when you work closing shifts, coming in around 2. some nights, by the time you realize you need to take out the trash, its already dark outside. the dumpster walk isn’t necessarily far, but its not pleasant nor does it feel very safe. but when you go to check the trash, you realize shouto silently took them out before he got off his shift a few hours ago so you didn’t have to walk out in the dark. he’s never scheduled closing shifts, but if someone needs it covered + he sees that you're the other closer, he’s quick to offer. walks you back to your car too.

there’s a coffee shop in the same shopping complex that your bakery is friendly with. by the end of the night, any leftover pastries get put into a ziplock and handed over to them in exchange for a free coffee. the mysterious barista who’s name tag reads ‘dabi’ is always the one to thank you for bringing over the treats and making your latte. he knows exactly what you're gonna get every time he sees you walking up to the front of the cafe. he sends you off every night with a wink and your coffee in hand

(you aren’t aware that dabi is related to shouto at all. its never been brought up and they're mostly on different shift schedules. so when shouto hears about your closing night exchanges, he starts shifting his schedule just so he can accompany you. and to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he’s not going to pull anything funny.)

-

additional all might as my boss: early morning opening shifts are your worst enemy just because you cannottt be bothered to wake up earlier than noon, so when you do, you come in having just woken up ten minutes before. your boss catches you one morning and stops you for a ten minute rant about how you should be more confident with your bare face! and makeup is a social construct, so feel beautiful with yourself!! and you think its sweet but you didnt even notice how you weren’t even wearing the usual makeup look. thanks greg. i guess. he means well.

[urbeachboy]

consider : you, who are too aware for your own good . .

you, who’ve recently moved to Gotham, a 19 year old uni student working a part-time job at a local café, trying desperately to make ends meet. you really don’t bother with all that vigilante and supervillain junk, always get home before 12:00 and stick to crowds.

but after a close call, getting nearly mugged and yet saved by a certain masked vigilante- red robin, maybe, judging by the red and the big yellow R on his chest- you think, ‘hey, this looks an awful lot like that one rich kid of Bruce Wayne’s.” and in an adrenaline-induced daze, you blurt out just what you were thinking; “You’re Tim Drake.”

He was only silent for a while (it was difficult to read him, even without the eye-mask- though you hadn’t seen him without it. It’d be much easier if you did) before he’d brushed you off with a small laugh and left you to walk home. Let’s say he kept a close eye on you that night.

The next morning, you woke up after a horrible dream and a terrible headache. The first thing you do; go to your phone, search up ‘the Waynes’. Compare each image of each individual to each image of each vigilante frequenting in Gotham and.. oh god. You’ve been proper enlightened. Will the cops be after you? No, you won’t tell anyone! They have no reason to!

Maybe the vigilantes will be after you.

..No! They’re meant to help people. They wouldn’t do something like that. Not to you.

However, the lack of danger in your path and the pitter-patter of footsteps on the roofs (the ones that are closer to the ground, at least) each night while walking home, sounding different everyday (though there’s almost a pattern. Mondays, they’re barely there, but you know it is. And it’s not belonging to one pair of feet. Tuesdays, they’re almost airy, but quick. Not like they’re running, more like they’re walking faster. Wednesdays, they’re a bit heavier, like the person’s a bit bigger, but that can’t be right. Thursdays, they’re familiar. Fridays, they’re like the tuesdays but they’re definitely running. And Saturdays, they’re not there. You think they’re not, at least- but you can feel the eyes boring into your nape, and you’d like to trust your instinct.) beg to differ.

Now, on a scale of one to ten, how absolutely fucked are you?

[crowley-winter-boots]

I would like to add my own take to some of these/further expand on what you have written.

Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls:

I've literally walked out of stores in the mall with unpayed items. Check for the chunky plastic white tags on it, or a silver sticker with a black dot: these will set off alarms when you leave the door and they are very difficult, if not impossible to take off without getting caught by employees. Supermarkets are more iffy, I've never stolen anything from one, but they have more cameras there. Small stores in malls typically don't, at least not any I can see, which I'm fairly certain it is illegal for stores to have hidden cameras. Wear baggy hoodies, you can slip something in your sleeve quickly. Basketball shorts, parachute pants, other bottoms with large pockets are great for slipping something in unnoticed. Also, DO NOT dwell on something too hard. It will make it more likely to get caught- act natural. A lot of people go into the mall just to browse, so it's perfectly normal to walk out without having bought a single thing.

Put stickers everywhere:

It is incredibly easy to make your own stickers. It is better if you have some artistic ability so you're able to format the sticker sheets properly, but it's fine if you don't have those skills. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, you'll have to rotate the images in weird angles and look for patterns of where one nook fits into one cranny. Repeating patterns are good, too. You just need sticker paper, a printer, and an app that you can import photos into and create the sticker sheets: I personally use Procreate, but that's because I use it for artwork and it was the easiest option on hand for me, personally. Ibis Paint X is free, a bit difficult to import photos in my opinion, but it works. I'm sure Word could work as well, though not as well. The less white space, the better, but make sure to leave enough room between each sticker as to have even borders all around. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was that I would accidentally overlap some stickers or make them touching.

Learn how to sew:

Here is a punk fashion tip: USE DENTAL FLOSS. I know, it sounds weird, but it's a great option. Cheaper than thread, you can buy it in bigger quantities, it lasts longer, it's sturdier, and overall just a really good option.

Furthermore, since I mentioned a punk fashion tip, I want to add my own way to protest here, as well as other DIY things you can do.

Battle vests/jackets are excellent. I'm making one, as well as my own patches to add to it. DO NOT put political statements or LGBT-oriented things on the back: this can, and will, put you in danger. Not only will you not see someone coming at you, but if someone sees it from the front, they are less likely to actually harm you since you can see them coming. There are some other punk DIY clothing you can make, including crust pants and just homemade patches to add onto something else. You also don't have to fit the "punk aesthetic" to be a punk: it's an ideology.

Some more punk fashion tips: You CAN paint on clothes and fabrics. Just add equal parts fabric softener to equal parts acrylic paints. This will prevent the paint from getting crunchy, make it last longer, prevent it from chipping, allow it to stretch with the fabric, and make it machine washable. You can also make homemade pins: acrylic paint, bottle caps, soda tabs, safety pins, modge podge, and a lot of hot glue. Put the safety pin through the soda tab, and glue the soda tab down with hot glue. Drown that shit in it- may seem unnecessary, but hot glue is stubborn with metal and does not want to stick. Do this BEFORE YOU PAINT, I made the mistake and everything peeled off because it warmed up and stuck to my table. When you're done painting, seal it with Modge Podge: it's a type of glue-like substance that seals paint, makes it shiny, prevents it from chipping and peeling, and makes it last longer.

Engage in art

Art does NOT have to be good. Art is about having fun and expressing yourself. It takes YEARS to become good at it, but even then there is always room to improve. Don't downplay your own efforts because someone else has skills you don't yet have. Get creative. Bring out those cheap art supplies extended family bought you on a whim when you were in grade school. Cut things up and glue them where they don't belong. Spill coffee on it, crumple the paper, and destroy it before using it as your canvas.

Be loud and obnoxious

This is one I'm adding in here myself. The right wants to claim queer people are shoving their agenda down their throats, but then wave MAGA flags and ask for heterosexual pride month? Wave those flags of yours, wear way too many (stolen, or DIY ofc) pins of pride flags and pronouns. Wear pride flags like capes. Dye your hair crazy colours, put on crazy makeup just to go out to the store. Being visible not only pisses off people that don't want to see us, but it also helps other people feel seen and safer. THIS CAN BE DANGEROUS. Like I said with the battle vests, YOU CAN GET ATTACKED.

I've been wearing my transgender pride flag to school. Pride flags are banned from being hung up, but nothing in the dress code prohibits it. This weekend, I will paint "WE THE PEOPLE" on the back of it. Teachers have pulled me aside only on the second day of wearing it, asking why. I've been called an "it" (doesn't misgender me anyway, I use it/its so jokes on them), someone (pitifully) attempted to throw food at me, people have been shouting "what the fuck" and "is that a trans flag?" in the halls, people have been sideyeing and staring at me. There have been good reactions too, of course, but I'm sharing my bad reactions to further imply doing this can be dangerous. I live in central Texas, for reference.

The negative reactions, since they have not directly harmed me, I choose to find funny. I laugh it off. I want people to see that being trans isn't something that can't be erased from existence. I want them to see people like me are not going anywhere.

Survive and be safe

Another personal addition- but DO NOT give up. I know that things are bad, and that things will get worse. But living is one of the things you can do to stick it to them. Listen to "Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance", that song can probably explain this as well. Do not stop fighting, and do not stop living. Be safe, don't put yourself in unnecessary danger in this fight, because it's going to be a big one. Make sure your mental health is good, and if it's not do what you can to improve on it. Don't let the government tell you that you don't have a place here; because you do. Fuck the government. Queer people have existed since before the Ancient Greeks, it's visible in nature all around. Lions and hens have been known for transitioning to male without actually having the male reproductive systems. Penguins and walruses have been known for homosexual relationships. America is built upon immigrants- the original Americans ARE immigrants because they came from Europe to colonize these lands. America wouldn't exist without immigrants.

I hope the expansion on what Kurohe had written is alright/helps out! Be safe out there and be yourself. Don't water yourselves down for the sake of people who don't want to see you thrive.

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step

Also, resign your amazon prime subscription.

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: this used to also say airports, but i've been told it's way too high risk as it's considered a federal crime. Thanks for letting me know)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[hyucksos]

heavy is the crown — mark lee

pairing: mark lee x f!reader genre: fantasy/supernatural au, crime-action, angst, romance wc: 14.9k synopsis: a series of visions lead you to mark lee, a seemingly normal human boy with no ties to the world of the gifted— your world. as such, you're concerned as to why you keep seeing him in your dreams, and the army of wraiths that just can't seem to leave him alone despite him being powerless... or so you thought. as he joins you at the academy, you learn that there may be more to this mark lee than you thought there was. taglist: closed | @/yoonohswife @morkleesgirl @cosmoshyu @barbie4jin @sthwaaberry @ohmytyong

You had no idea what Taekwondo was. At least, not until today.

According to Donghyuck, it’s a form of martial arts, similar to the combat training you go through at the academy every day. You weren’t actually sure on whether to believe him or not considering Donghyuck is Donghyuck and his whole life before joining the academy sounded like a jumble of lies (you learnt not to trust him wholeheartedly after he convinced you that bananas were considered a delicacy in the outside world. He made you eat them with a knife and fork for a full week).

But now, as you’re sitting amongst the sea of heads in the stands overlooking the arena below, you think that Donghyuck might just be telling the truth this time.

You tug on the gloves that hug your hands and forearms, the latex that sticks uncomfortably to your skin not at all helping in easing your nerves. You rarely step foot outside the academy— not like it’s ever been restricted; you know being in unfamiliar environments could potentially spike your elemental, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally committing arson or anything like that. As much as you hate your gloves, you know they keep you safe, which is why you keep them on.

Weirdly enough, nobody seems to pay you any mind; not with your gloves, not even with the bulky silhouette of your hanbok-like uniform you knew you should have changed out of before coming here. It’s as though you’re invisible, everyone’s eyes fixed on the arena below.

“The next match is about to begin. In the blue corner representing Blue Wave Taekwondo, here to show off his agility and skill— let’s give it up for Jeno Lee!”

You startle when the people around you cheer loudly, and you slowly bring your own hands together to join in on the applause. You can’t really make out the athlete’s face as he steps into the ring, most of his features blocked by the helmet he dons. You’re curious, having never seen a sparring match that required this much gear before— then again, you suppose that's just how it goes for an ordinary human sport.

“And in the red corner, known for his speed and precision, Kick It Dojang’s very own Mark Lee! Let’s give him a warm welcome!”

The buzz of the crowd fades into the background the moment your gaze lands on the boy decked in red and white, but you don’t register it until a second later— not until he straightens his back after bowing to his opponent, and his eyes meet yours.

A sharp pain suddenly hits your temples, and you hiss as your head falls to your hands. Immediately, the world starts to warp.

You’re looking at the boy from your visions, the boy you now know as Mark Lee. His head lies in your lap, lifeless, his skin pale and cold. Shadows swirl around you, whispering things you don’t understand.

“Mark,” you breathe, voice trembling. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.”

But nothing.

The whispers grow louder, your own voice feeling like it's being drowned out by their presence. Your chest starts to tighten with the weight of the darkness—

The vision cuts off abruptly, and you’re left breathless as your eyes refocus to the arena before you. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but Mark is still in the ring, already in the midst of sparring with his opponent.

Your visions of him was what led you here in the first place, each one like fragments of a puzzle pulling you closer and closer. They're mostly brief, but you know they mean something, especially because of the shadows that would often surround him as they hiss with intent you couldn't decipher.

But this one was different.

For the first time, he had a name. For the first time, you saw him up close— vulnerable, his life resting in your hands as the wraiths closed in around you both.

It felt like the collision of two separate worlds that were never supposed to merge, and you know that this was no ordinary vision. Whatever it is that just happened... it was only the beginning.

And you knew you needed to let Mark know.

Mark bounces his head to the music blasting through his wired earpieces, his eyes trained on his scuffed Converses as he walks. He's been told it's a real bad habit, to not watch where he's going (especially when he couldn't even hear his surroundings most of the time), but he swears he's working on it. Plus, his headphones aren't even the noise-cancelling kind, so he's still able to hear what goes on around him, albeit only partly; like right now.

Mark stops in his tracks, pulling out one of the buds from his ears as he looks behind him.

Nothing.

It's been happening a lot recently, to get the sensation of someone whispering in his ear only for him to look up and realise that he's alone. He's tried brushing it off as a gust of wind— even a figment of his own imagination— but he knows better than to believe that, not when the night is too still, too quiet, and he's far from losing his mind.

He also knows better than to ask if anybody's there— he's seen enough horror movies to know how badly that would end for him.

Perhaps walking through the park at this hour wasn't his best idea in the first place.

Mark stares idly at the barely-lit pavement for a few seconds more before bringing his earbud back to his ear, turning back around to resume his walk— only to be met with you.

He stumbles backwards with a startled gasp, his phone almost falling from his hand before he realises that no, you're not a ghost.

You’re the girl from earlier.

Of course, Mark remembers you. How could he not, when you're the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of spectators? It was odd enough as it is for him to be distracted right before a match, but there was just something about you that pulled him in; Mark couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Maybe it was your odd choice of attire, the traditional Korean-inspired silhouette of your all-black trench coat that cinched at your waist, or maybe it was the latex gloves that caught his attention first.

Either way, he’s feeling it again, that magnetic pull that renders him unable to look away, and it's not just because you're pretty— it feels as though there's literally something weighing him down, pulling on his chest.

Before he could question it, he notices your eyes lose focus on him, settling on something behind him instead. You’re the first one to break the silence.

"Duck."

Mark frowns. "What?"

In a split second, you're already ripping off your gloves, a flame roaring to life in your palm before you hurl the fire over his shoulder.

Mark’s confusion morphs into a split-second horror as he instinctively ducks, stumbling over his own two feet as he hears the air behind him fill with an otherworldly screech. Still, he dares himself to look over his shoulder, just in time to see multiple shadowy figures burst into flames before dissolving into nothingness.

The sight only causes Mark to fall on his butt, his neck snapping back towards you.

“What the hell was that?” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “And- what- what did you just do?”

You let out a shaky breath, flicking your bare wrist before you put on your glove, almost nonchalantly. Almost like you didn’t just shoot fire out of your hands.

Oh, maybe he is losing his mind.

“I’ll explain later,” you say, glancing around the deserted park. “We need to go. It’s not safe here.”

“No. No, no,” Mark stammers, breathless as he pushes himself off the ground with a shaky hand, his knees almost giving way. “There’s no later. What the hell is going on? Was that- was that real? Did I just see you- what are you-“

His voice is rising now, panic clear in his tone, but you don’t have the luxury of soothing him yet— not with the danger still lingering. You sigh softly. “Mark, just listen to me-”

“Listen to what?” he cuts in, his voice shaking. “You just threw fire. At a... at a thing I don’t even have a name for! This- this isn’t normal!”

You knew this wasn’t going to end well if you don’t act fast.

Clenching your jaw, you shut your eyes momentarily. “Renjun,” you mutter, almost in defeat. “A little help, please.”

There’s a moment of silence before the Chinese boy appears, stepping out from the shadows as if he had been waiting for his cue. His expression is calm, but his eyes narrow as he takes in the scene— Mark’s pale, terrified face, along with your desperate one.

“Really?” Renjun raises a brow. “You couldn’t handle this on your own?”

“Not now," you hiss, glancing back at Mark who looks like he’s seconds away from collapsing.

Renjun sighs, muttering something under his breath before stepping closer. His hand glows a faint green as he grabs Mark’s shoulder and reaches for you.

For the second time that night, Mark could barely register what was going on— only this time, his world starts to spin, and the ground disappears beneath him.

Soon, everything turns to black.

Mark wakes up to a bare ceiling and a pounding headache, no sign of you or that other boy with the glowing hands whose name he could barely even remember.

He lets out a relieved exhale. So it was all just a bad dream.

“Huh. She didn’t tell me you were hot.”

Mark startles at the new voice, almost falling off the bed as he sits up, his neck whipping to his left.

He doesn’t recognise who he’s looking at. The boy looks to be around his age, maybe a little younger, with chestnut-brown hair that falls messily in his eyes. He’s seated casually in a chair right next to the bed, leaning forward with an almost unnerving curiosity that makes Mark feel like he’s a rat in a lab experiment.

One thing that Mark does recognise, is the attire the boy dons, similar to the one he saw on you. Up close, he could make out the intricate design embossed in the silk material of his shirt, and it looks just like the top-half of a hanbok, except with a modern twist.

So it wasn’t a dream. Everything that happened was real. Mark feels his head start to spin even more.

Where is he, and who are you people?

“You’re at the academy. We’re… uh, I don’t really know how to answer your question without freaking you out even more, so I’m probably just gonna leave that to someone else, but I���m Donghyuck.”

“What?” Mark rasps, his eyes squinting in confusion. He didn’t actually say that out loud, did he?

“Oh, my bad,” Donghyuck quips, not really sounding all that apologetic as he leans back in his chair. “You didn’t, but I heard you anyway. Usually I’d have to be touching your arm or something, but I guess this could happen too if the other person’s energy levels are like, skyrocketing through the roof. And my knee was kinda touching your blanket, so there’s that. You’re a nervous guy, aren’t you, Mark? Huh, wait- that explains the crash course on personal space…”

“Hyuck.”

Donghyuck halts his rambling to glance over his shoulder, and Mark follows his gaze to see you.

In the midst of his confusion, he’s slightly relieved to see a familiar face. Even if said familiar face could shoot fire out of her palms and… well, killed whatever the hell that thing behind him was.

“Well, that’s my cue to go. Duty calls!” Donghyuck sings, slapping his palms on his thighs as he stands up. “See ya around, Bruce Lee.”

You spare Donghyuck a warning glance when he walks past you, and you know he’s ignoring you on purpose as he whistles his way out the door.

“Sorry about that,” you mutter as you approach Mark, opting to stand at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?” You ask tentatively.

“Confused. Sore. Mostly confused.” Mark shakes his head weakly, his dark hair falling in his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“Well, you passed out, and rightfully so. Non-Gifted bodies aren’t usually able to withstand the forces of teleportation, but seeing as you made it through…” you trail off before clearing your throat, telling him your name before you continue. “This is the academy. It’s a place for… people like me; people with abilities. And that thing you saw back there— they’re Umbras. Wraiths that feed off energy. They’re dangerous, and they were after you.”

Mark’s brows knit together. “Me? Why me? I don’t have… abilities, or whatever it is you’re talking about. I’m just a normal guy.”

You hesitate as you choose your next words carefully. “I thought so too. But I’ve been having visions of you for weeks, Mark, and it wasn’t until today did I realise that my visions of the Umbras and you… they’re all connected.” You start to pace around the room. “You have to be possessing some sort of energy for them to be after you in the first place. Are you certain you’re powerless?”

You stop right in front of him, and Mark stares at you like you’re crazy.

“Um, I’m pretty sure.”

You huff in frustration, running a hand through your hair. You know that it isn’t his fault, but he isn’t giving you anything to work with.

“So, uh, the fire thing you did back there. That was your ability, right?”

You turn back to Mark, who’s still looking at you. He’s taking this surprisingly well, you think, though it does seem that he’s still recovering from shock.

“Yes. I’m a pyrokinetic. We all have different abilities here. Donghyuck's is psychometry, and if you remember Renjun, he teleports.”

Mark nods slowly. “So you’re kinda like Elsa, huh? But with fire instead of ice? Wait, no- you’re Azula.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Who’s Azula?”

Mark parts his lips before he closes them, uttering a quiet nevermind under his breath. You notice the flush that creeps up his neck, and for some reason, the sight brings a warm sensation to your own cheeks.

He clears his throat. “So, that explains the gloves?”

You glance down at your hands, fingers wringing one another before letting them fall to your sides. “Well, yes. They help to keep things under control. My ability can get a little unpredictable if I’m not careful.”

“Unpredictable how?”

You hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. You weren’t even expecting for him to be asking this many questions— most people didn’t— but you figure that’s probably because something that’s ordinary in your world must seem extraordinary in his. “Fire isn’t exactly forgiving. It doesn’t listen well, and if I lose focus, it can spread. The gloves act as a barrier, like a safety net.”

Mark is a silent for a while. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

The question surprises you, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. You’ve never had anyone ask you that before. “It used to,” you admit. “But I’ve trained for years to handle it. The pain doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

Before he could respond, you clear your throat. “You should, um, get some rest. I’m sure Headmaster Kang would want to talk to you after this. Do you need anything else?”

“No, no, I’m good.” Mark finally glances away, letting out a slow exhale as he rests on the headboard behind him.

You nod before excusing yourself out of the room, your gloved hands instinctively rising to your cheeks. They’re still warm from before— oddly warm. It’s strange, because you’ve always only been able to conjure heat with your palms, so you’re not sure if this is some new side effect… or something else entirely.

You’re sure it’s the former. What else could it be?

Mark has never had that many friends growing up. Sure, he’s constantly surrounded by people— an inevitability when his entire life is just training after training, and tournament after tournament— but even then, he still finds a way to keep to himself. There’s enough pressure trying to succumb to his own expectations of being the best athlete he could be, and the last thing he needs is the added weight of others’ opinions or distractions that could potentially pull him off course.

That, and the fact that he’s been told that he’s far too awkward, but that’s never been a problem for him— at least, until now.

Donghyuck is chattering away at a speed Mark couldn’t really comprehend, Renjun only nodding occasionally to show that he’s listening as he sips on his soup. You, on the other hand, don’t even seem all that interested, barely even reacting to Donghyuck's story about how he accidentally overheard someone’s entire dream during a nap the other day.

With both you and Renjun’s lack of reaction, he’s starting to think that this is just how Donghyuck is on a day-to-day basis.

“I swear, I wasn’t even trying this time,” Donghyuck exclaims, gesturing wildly with his spoon. “One minute, I’m dreaming about ice cream, and the next, I’m trapped in this weird universe about werewolves mating. Do you know how traumatising that is? What kind of fantasies is she having?” He visibly shudders. “Ugh. Should I go through solar confinement so it stops?”

“Hyuck, come on. Why would you want to put yourself through that?” You finally speak up, concern lacing your tone. “Plus, I doubt it’ll do much to help with your… questionable dreams.”

“It wasn’t even my dream!” Donghyuck whines, and it is only when Mark notices the small upturn of your lips does he realise that you were just pulling your friend’s leg.

It’s the first time he’s seen you smile. He thinks it’s kind of nice.

“What’s the solar confinement?” He finally asks, letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“Oh, just this lovely punishment Headmaster Kang came up with." Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "You stand in the sun for hours, no shade, no escape. Supposedly it 'clears your head,' but I think it’s just a slow way to turn someone into a human oven. Huh, I think I’ll take werewolf dreams over that any day.” Donghyuck shudders again. “But hey, speaking of the headmaster, have you met him yet?”

“Yeah. Yesterday, actually.” Mark spares you a glance. “He told me that it’d be better for me to stay until we figure out why the wraiths are after me. It’s safer that way. That’s why I’m still here, I guess,” he chuckles awkwardly.

After you left Mark at the infirmary yesterday, you went straight to Headmaster Kang to inform him what had happened. You brought Renjun along with you, mostly because you were terrified of being reprimanded for bringing in a Non-Gifted to the academy, but Headmaster Kang took it surprisingly well. You suppose it was the urgency of the entire situation; the Gifted and Non-Gifted are supposed to coexist in two separate worlds, and now that one is beginning to bleed into the other, there seemed to be only one way to contain it: by bringing Mark in.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Don’t worry about it, though. The Umbras won’t be able to get to you here,” Donghyuck assures. “But seriously, your energy must have been super strong for them to reach you in the first place.”

“Oh, I’m not- I’m not a Gifted,” Mark corrects him. “I mean, I don’t know. That’s what we’re trying to figure out, I guess.”

“Woah, really? I kinda thought that was how I managed to read you yesterday without even touching you,” Donghyuck hums, curious. “Mind if I read you now, Newbie? Maybe that could help in finding your elemental.”

“Oh, uh- sure.” Mark outstretches his palm across the table hesitantly, and Donghyuck places his hand on top immediately. As much as Mark was expecting to feel something— maybe a small jolt of static or any other kind of sensation— it’s surprisingly painless, and Donghyuck withdraws his hand with knitted brows.

“Weird. It’s all fuzzy. I can’t see anything,” he mumbles. “I wonder what changed.”

“I have ADHD,” Mark admits. “Maybe that could be it?”

“Ah, yeah!” Donghyuck clicks his tongue, snapping his fingers. “A lot of things going up there, huh? I get it. I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually. You know, I was a late bloomer, too. Got my abilities at twenty. I got admitted to the psych ward because people thought I was crazy, when the whole time I just had abilities. Headmaster Kang bailed me out-“

“He didn’t bail you out, Hyuck. It wasn't a prison.”

“-now here I am!” Donghyuck finishes off his speech, ignoring you.

You shake your head, scoffing in amusement, and the table is finally silent when everyone returns to their food.

If Mark wasn’t aware of his surroundings then, he definitely is now.

The dining area isn’t that big, housing only about twenty other people or so— most of which are casting him less-than-subtle stares behind their bowls. He gets it, though— in a school this small, word definitely would have gotten out fast. He’s sure the students here wouldn’t be too thrilled to learn that a Non-Gifted is among them, and the fact scares Mark by a little.

“Ignore them,” you mutter from beside him when Renjun and Donghyuck escalate into yet another argument. Mark knows you aren’t referring to them.

He chuckles. “You read minds too?”

“No.” You snort. “Your face says it all. They just aren’t used to seeing new people, is all. You have us, Mark. You’ll be fine.”

If it weren’t for the smile you gave his way, Mark is sure he would’ve had a hard time believing you.

✦ ✦ ✦

Scratch that— Mark doesn’t think he’ll be fine.

Seated uneasily in the headmaster’s office, he couldn’t help but to feel out of place. The walls are lined with dark wood panels and rows of ancient books, the kind that seemed to know secrets no one dared to ask about. For some reason, he finds it difficult to tear his gaze away from them, specifically the one with the weathered, leather spine tucked away at the very end.

Mark has no idea why he's staring at it intently— it could be because out of everything else in this room, that odd-looking book seems to be the most interesting. He must have been looking at it for too long, because for a fleeting moment, the book starts to glow, only for it to disappear after a blink.

Mark takes that as a sign to look away. His body must still be struggling to adapt to everything that's been happening in the last 48 hours to the point of him seeing things.

He had been called in right after breakfast, where he had to split ways with you, Donghyuck and Renjun as you carried on with your daily activities. The floor-length windows of the office gives him the perfect view of the academy grounds below, where students are scattered across the courtyard as they practice their respective abilities.

Instinctively, his eyes search for you, quickly spotting you alone at the edge of the training field. A flicker of fire ignites in your palm before it disappears completely.

“Mark.” Headmaster Kang’s voice brings him back to the present. Mark looks away from the window. “Let’s go through your background again. Where did you say you were from?”

“Seoul, sir,” he answers stiffly. “But, uh… I don’t really know much about where I came from before that. I was adopted when I was a baby.”

The old man purses his lips in thought. “And your adoptive family? Were there any unusual experiences growing up? Any unexplained phenonema that could suggest why you might be a target for Umbras?”

“Umbras,” Mark repeats, the term still foreign on his tongue. He shakes his head. “No, sir. At least, not that I know of. I mean, my parents have always joked that that I was… emotional, I guess? They said that I had this weird way of making everyone around me feel what I was feeling,” he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I don’t suppose that would explain why shadow demons are chasing after me now?”

Headmaster Kang smiles, the upward tug of his lips softening his otherwise hard features. Admittedly, the gesture helps in making Mark feel a little less jittery, though the sharp glint in his eyes remain stern.

“Listen, Mark. The world of the Gifted is vast and enigmatic. Each of my students here possess their own unique abilities that sets them apart from the rest. While it is not common for abilities to manifest at your age, no one has ever ruled out that possibility.” He leans back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. “The Gifted have existed for hundreds of years now, yet there are still so many things we can’t explain due to the nature of our bodies. They’re constantly changing, evolving, defying the boundaries of what we think we know.”

The information is a lot to digest, so Mark doesn’t say anything.

“You can start off by looking into your biological family. See if they have any ties to our world— that might give more insight as to why these things are taking place. The library is free for you to visit, and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask me,” Headmaster Kang continues. “For now, we’ll focus on integrating you into the academy. You’re going to need this-“

He pulls out a drawer, taking out a neatly folded fabric before setting it on the table. Mark recognises it instantly.

“I understand you practiced Taekwondo before coming here. Discipline and control are central to martial arts, qualities that align well with what we value here.”

Mark nods, unsure of how else to respond. “I’ve been doing it for years. It’s… grounding.”

“Good. Then that foundation will serve you well.” Another faint smile flickers on Headmaster Kang’s face as he nods towards the uniform. “You’ll begin training tomorrow. Even if your elemental remains dormant for now, it’s important to cultivate focus and discipline. Those qualities may unlock more than you realise.”

Mark nods slowly, picking up the silk material. The uniform is heavier than he expected, like it carries the weight of something much larger than himself.

“Thank you,” he says softly. It feels strange to be grateful for something he didn’t ask for.

The next couple of days seemed to pass by in a blur, at least for Mark.

Life had settled into a strange rhythm; he would spend his mornings in physical training, afternoon in power control (something he didn’t even have, leaving him to do more physical training), and evenings sparring under the watchful eyes of the instructors. As gruelling as it was, it gave him less time to think about the wraiths that were after him— or why he was even here in the first place.

The midday sun beats down on the training grounds as students gather to observe the mock battle that was about to begin. You spare Mark a glance, his face passive as he waits for your instructor’s signal, but you can feel it— the sharp undercurrent of nervous energy radiating off him, and it prickles on your senses like electricity.

You blink, trying to shake it off, but it’s hard to ignore the sudden wave of unease that settles around you, almost like a weighted blanket that only grows heavier with each passing second.

Your force yourself to regulate your breathing, not realising that you’re on the verge of hyperventilating until you hear Mark calling your name.

“Hey, you okay?” He turns to you, eyes wide with concern as he ducks slightly to look at your face. You can feel his fingers circle around your wrist even despite the latex barrier between your skin and his fingertips, but it doesn’t do much to bring you comfort.

You part your lips to answer, but nothing comes out. “I-“

“Mark and Younghyun, to the center of the ring,” your instructor’s voice calls out, causing Mark to inhale sharply as he reluctantly lets go of your hand. He casts Donghyuck beside you a look, who nods in understanding as he pulls you closer towards him.

“You alright?” Donghyuck mutters quietly, his arm still around your shoulder.

You nod wordlessly as you exhale, the heaviness finally leaving your chest. With your vision refocusing, you’re only now realising that Mark is no longer beside you, already standing at the edge of the ring as he prepares himself for the first round. “Just- felt lightheaded all of a sudden.”

Donghyuck is silent for a while until he speaks up. “I felt it too, you know.”

You tense as you turn your head to face him, but his eyes are not on you, rather, on Mark. You didn’t even notice how unusually grim Donghyuck is being, unlike his usual self, and that instantly tells you that something is wrong.

“I can’t read you at all.” He finally looks at you, his hand tapping your shoulder before he drops it completely. “Same thing happened with him during breakfast the other day, remember?”

You swallow. “But Mark said he had that- that thing. It’s a condition, right?”

“Yeah, but I literally managed to read him through his blanket on his first day. Could practically feel the nerves bouncing off the guy.” Donghyuck looks around before he exhales, dropping his voice. “I think his elemental has something to do with his emotions. You felt it, I felt it. And now that he left, the feeling’s gone. Don’t you find it weird?”

“I…” you trail off, shaking your head as you try to piece things together in your head. “It’s just, his energy shifts, right? Are you saying that it’s more than his emotions just affecting him… it affects everyone around him as well?”

“Exactly. It’s not easy to balance both your energy and emotions, especially when you don’t know what’s happening. I’m betting that’s why he’s been out of touch with his abilities.” Donghyuck nods towards the ongoing match, and you follow his gaze, looking at Mark and Younghyun as they circle the ring, waiting for the other to throw the first move.

This isn’t the first time these two are sparring each other. You don’t know Younghyun that well, nothing more than the fact that he’s a shadow manipulator, and that he has a particular habit of taunting Mark every chance he gets. They’re always subtle, but you can tell it gets under Mark’s skin every time— including now, as you could tell based on the downturn of his lips.

“Come on, Lee,” Younghyun calls out, voice dripping with mockery. “Thought you’d put up more of a fight. Or are you too scared to use your powers? Oh, wait,” he snickers to himself.

Mark’s jaw tightens. The comment is meant to get a reaction— and it’s working. Without warning, he throws the first punch, a straight fist aimed right towards Younghyun’s face.

The boy only barely manages to sidestep, the contact knocking him off-balance momentarily. The air starts to grow heavy, more volatile, and with the way Younghyun’s smirk drops slightly, you know he feels it too.

Donghyuck might just be right.

“Nice try.” Younghyun recovers quickly. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that,” he says lowly, stretching out his arms as he directs his own shadow towards Mark, the silhouette solidifying before it lurches foward and grabs a hold of Mark’s limbs, pulling him down harshly. He loses his balance, the sound of him hitting the ground making you gasp.

“Oh, c’mon!” Younghyun laughs as he stands at Mark’s feet. “Are you just gonna keep lying there like an injured lamb? Tsk. Powerless,” he taunts some more, garnering a few chuckles from the crowd.

Mark didn’t seem to like that.

“Shut the hell up,” he grits as he gets up. The air around him seems to hum, thick with unseen energy. The crowd falls silent, their laughter replaced by gasps of alarm, but Mark doesn’t notice it— until it happens.

A burst of white light explodes outward as he lunges towards Younghyun, the energy radiating like a shockwave, causing the latter to fly backwards before landing on the ground with a loud thud. The air still crackles with tension as Mark stumbles back, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest as he looks at his hands, trembling with the unfamiliar power.

“What the…” he whispers to himself, slowly looking back to his opponent who still lies unconscious, the only reassurance of him being alive the faint rise and fall of his chest. Relief washes over Mark for a moment, before it’s quickly overshadowed by the feeling of dread as the murmurs around him grow louder, the words “dangerous” and “unstable” cutting through the noise.

He looks around helplessly, before his eyes land on you, already looking at him with concern painted on your features. You step towards him, but Mark stumbles back, his stomach churning.

“Mark,” you say softly, but he shakes his head, feeling his eyes burn with tears he knows he shouldn’t let fall in front of you, so he does the next best thing:

He runs away.

✦ ✦ ✦

You find Mark in his room, his back turned to you as he frantically packs his bags.

“Wha- are you leaving?”

Your voice causes him to stall before his hands fall in defeat, and he finally turns to you.

Based on the redness of his eyes, you know that he’s been crying, and the sight tugs on your heartstrings. It’s a deep, unshakeable sadness that wells up in you, and you know it isn’t his emotions bleeding into yours this time— it’s all yours.

“I shouldn’t be here anymore,” he says weakly, his voice hoarse. “I can’t— not if I’m hurting people along the way. I didn’t mean to hurt him-“

“I know. I know, Mark.” You step towards him slowly, and he lets you, though he’s quick to avoid your gaze as he looks at his shoes. “It’s not your fault.”

The lights in the room start to flicker as he takes in a shaky breath, the dim glow struggling to stay steady. With each passing second, the flickering intensifies, plunging the room into near darkness before the bulbs flare brightly.

“Look at me?” You plead, gently cupping his jaw to tilt his face towards you. His tear-filled eyes gaze longingly into yours, and you make sure he doesn’t look away as you drop your arm, tugging the glove off your other hand.

Conjuring a small flame in your right palm, you raise back your hand, letting it hover steadily between the two of you. His eyes naturally follow the fire that dances in your palm, the orange hue reflecting in his glassy irises.

“Breathe,” you say gently. As the flame pulses and sways in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing begins to match its cadence, each inhale and exhale drawing closer to the calm tempo you’ve set for him, until the room eventually stops flickering and returns to normal.

“Your abilities don’t make you a threat, Mark.” Your voice wavers, but you hold his gaze, feeling your own tears well in your eyes. In a way, Mark Lee reminds you of yourself— alone, misunderstood, burdened with a gift you never asked for. You understand his fear, because it mirrors your own; and it’s taken you years alone to realise that it doesn’t define nor destroy you.

“It can be tamed,” you continue softly, and the flame in your palm steadies, its gentle glow casting shadows across his pained features. You fight back the urge to hold him, to smoothen out the worry between his eyebrows, and tell him that it’s alright. So instead, you settle for a smile, hoping that your words are able to convey what actions couldn’t.

“Just like mine.”

You’re looking at Mark again, only this time, he’s standing at the other end of the room, far away from you. His features are illuminated by the moonlight breaking through the cracked window next to him, his fists glowing faintly with a power he’s only beginning to understand.

You try to call out for him, but your voice comes out as muffled. The towering shapes that surround the two of you feel vaguely familiar, along with the dust that swirls in the air and the faint smell of musty paper, but the way they’re constantly twisting and blurring into nothingness makes it hard for you to pinpoint exactly where you are.

One by one, the Umbras start to appear, and you can’t see Mark anymore with how quickly they’ve encircled him. The air is heavy, suffocating, and that’s when you hear it; a familiar voice:

“Engulf him.”

The shadows start to hiss, the sharp noise growing louder and louder with each passing second. Instinctively, you bring your hands to your ears, only for pain to flare instantly as your skin burns on contact. With a gasp, you let your arms fall, and that’s when you notice the absence of your gloves, your palms raw and red.

An estranged cry leaves your lips as the burning sensation starts to spread beneath your skin, causing you to fall to your knees. You want to call out for Mark, but you can’t, your lips feeling as though they’ve been sewn shut so tightly that you can’t do anything else but to stare helplessly as the Umbras consume him.

You jolt awake with a scream, clutching your arms as the phantom burn lingers. It was just a nightmare, but not just any ordinary one— it was another vision.

The sudden banging on your door causes you to jump out of your skin, and you’re hesitant to move from your bed, given the state of your own frantic self. It is only when you hear the familiar voice at the other side do you finally stumble to open it, and you’re instantly met with Renjun’s panicked face, his fists raised and glowing.

He sighs upon seeing you, dropping his hands. “God, I was literally about to break into your room! What took you so lo- are you crying?” Renjun halts amidst his rambling when he takes in your tear-stricken face, something you didn’t even realise until he pointed it out.

“I just, uh, had a bad dream,” you mutter, quickly wiping your eyes with your bandaged hands. You had switched from sleeping with your gloves on to wrapping them with gauze, something Donghyuck had taught you when he noticed how irritated your skin would get after wearing them for a full day. You still have yet to master wrapping them perfectly, the fabric currently falling apart at the seams, but at least they keep your palms covered.

Renjun shakes his head, as though snapping himself out of distraction. “Listen, it’s Mark.”

Your heart drops upon hearing his name.

Renjun continues. “Something’s going on. I noticed his door was left ajar when I left my room to go to the washroom, so I knocked to see if he was okay, but he wasn’t inside. I don’t know where he is.”

You swallow hard, and it feels like bile has risen in your throat at the thought of your vision coming true. You shove past Renjun wordlessly, stumbling into the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He calls out after you, but you don’t respond, your feet carrying you towards the end of the corridor. Your steps only falter when you reach a junction, and you close your eyes as you try to steady your breathing. There’s a tug in your mind, like an invisible string that’s pulling you towards the shadowy corners of the academy, and that’s when it hits you: the cracked window. The dust. The smell of old paper. 

“Are you seriously not gonna answer me?” Renjun pants when he catches up to you, clearly annoyed. “I know you’re worried, but running aimlessly won’t help you find-“

“I know where he is,” you cut him off, turning around.

Renjun frowns before his expression eases into one of realisation. “Your visions…”

You nod before taking off towards the east wing, not looking behind to check if he is following after you.

You don’t remember the last time you visited the old library— or anyone, for that matter. Since the fire that ravaged the east wing a few years back, the entire area was deemed unsafe, left to rot after the surviving books were moved to a newer wing.

But it wasn’t just the fire that left the library abandoned; more so, the rumours that followed. The timing of the incident had been too coincidental, perfectly lining up to the time when your abilities first spiraled out of control. No one had ever outright accused you, but the rumours were enough to make you feel their suspicions.

You’d avoided the place since, the unspoken blame too much of a weight for you to bear. But now, as you approach the charred doorway, your stomach churns at the thought of stepping back inside.

Taking in a shaky breath, you push the heavy door open, the hinges creaking as it reveals the forgotten library.

It’s there, just like you envisioned earlier, which is why it doesn’t take you long to spot Mark, standing in between the bookshelves as his eyes and fists glow a bright white. Dark shapes swirl around him like smoke, some darting towards him only to be repelled away at the last second, as though he’s being protected by an unseen force.

Now this, you didn’t see in your vision.

“Mark?” You call out, your voice trembling as you slowly inch towards him, but Renjun quickly catches your wrist.

You turn to meet his worried gaze. “I don’t think- should I go call Headmaster Kang?”

You stall. “If we tell him, I’d have to explain how I know. You know he doesn’t know about my visions,” you reply hesitantly, wriggling your hand out of his grasp. “I can’t afford to do that right now.”

“Yes, but-“ Renjun is insistent before he lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing that nothing he could say would change your mind.

“I can’t go back to confinement, Jun,” you say quietly, and Renjun looks away.

“I know,” he mutters. “At least let me call Hyuck?”

You nod hesitantly, and Renjun gives you one last look before he raises his fists, conjuring a portal and disappearing.

You turn back to Mark, keeping your eyes on him as you unravel the bandages on your hands. You let them fall to the floor before you raise your arms, your palms heating up instantly.

As though sensing the shift in the air, the Umbras turn to you, and you barely notice Mark’s protective barrier start to flicker uncertainly before the wraiths lunge towards you at full speed.

“Not today,” you mutter through gritted teeth as you flick your wrists, sending a jet of fire through them before they screech, eventually disappearing into nothingness.

It feels never-ending, and you know you’re growing tired as the heat of the flames intensify the more you attack. Still, you ignore the pain that sears your skin, letting the adrenaline take over until the last of the wraiths vanish with a hiss, and you finally allow yourself to drop your arms.

You pant heavily, only now registering the state of the charred library shrouded with smoke; as though the fire from years ago had come alive before your very eyes.

Your knees buckle, and despite the pain that seizes your entire body, you crawl towards Mark, shifting so his head could fall to your lap. His lips are pale, body unnervingly still, but he’s still breathing; albeit shallowly.

“Mark,” you croak, your trembling hands hovering over his face as though you’re unsure of what to do with them. Your bandages are somewhere on the ground behind you, and you don’t want to accidentally burn him by touching him. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.”

This scene feels oddly familiar.

You fight back a choked sob, but it doesn’t do much in stopping the tears that fall down your cheeks. They burn, like acid, and you quickly wipe them away with your sleeves.

You vaguely hear someone calling your name behind you, registering the familiar voice of Donghyuck before he skids to a crouch next to you. You tilt your chin to look at him, and his lips part in shock upon taking in your face.

“Help him, please.” You cut Donghyuck off just as he’s about to say your name, and he swallows before nodding grimly, beckoning for Renjun to come over.

You scoot away to give the boys some space, and your eyes fall to your hands on your lap. They sleeves of your shirt partly obscure them, but the burns still peek through, a stark reminder of the flames you wielded, and a haunting proof of how your even visions aren’t able to save Mark.

Mark thinks he’s going crazy.

He had woken up in the infirmary with no recollection of what had happened, the marks on his skin the only evidence that something did actually happen in the time he was unconscious, but that isn’t even the worst part.

The worst part is that he hasn’t seen you since he woke up, and neither Donghyuck nor Renjun is telling him where you disappeared off to.

He finds himself in Headmaster Kang’s office instead, and the downturn of the man’s lips tells Mark that he isn’t here for a casual chat.

“So tell me, Mark. How did you find yourself in the old library?” Headmaster Kang rests his elbows on his desk as he leans forward.

Mark swallows nervously, his head hanging low. “I- I’m sorry, sir. I don’t remember.”

Headmaster Kang nods. “I understand that you’re still trying to adapt to your abilities, which might explain why these things are happening. How has training been going for you? Good?”

“I-“ Mark pauses. The answer is at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t possibly admit that to the headmaster, can he? How could he say that no, nothing has been going well for him ever since discovering his abilities, that his life has turned to literal shit since the day he knocked that kid Younghyun off his feet?

Despite his struggle to answer, Headmaster Kang smiles, as though knowing exactly what it is he wanted to say. Mark wonders if the he could read minds like Donghyuck.

“We’ve never had an Umbra attack at the academy before. This is a first, and I reckon it has something to do with your emotional resonance. As you already know, these things feed off energy, which could explain how they’ve managed to break through the perimeter.”

Mark clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” Headmaster Kang shakes his head. “This is a school. An instituition. I never want my students to feel unsafe at the one place that’s supposed to protect them.”

Mark nods, not really sure where the conversation is heading towards.

“That said, a wraith attack is to be taken very seriously. It was fortunate that nobody else got hurt-“

Relief washes through Mark momentarily. That would mean that you’re okay, right?

“-but for the sake of ensuring the safety of the other students, I’m afraid that I’d have to take action to make sure this doesn’t happen again. I hope you understand this isn’t mean to be a punishment, Mark, more so a protective measure to help regulate your abilities.” The headmaster pauses, as though thinking of the next words he’s going to say.

“Solar confinement,” he finally says, leaning back in his chair. “A method designed to stabilise energy levels. It’s been used in the past for students who needed time to regain control over your powers. In fact, your friends have gone through this as well, so I’m sure you are familiar with it, yes?”

Mark stiffens, his fists curling on his lap. Of course, he’s familiar with it— it’s the one thing Donghyuck wouldn’t stop talking about ever since he joined this academy.

“You’re isolating me,” he responds, his tone stiff but measured.

“No, Mark. Helping,” the headmaster corrects. “Think of it as a period of rehabilitation. You’d be surprised what four hours could do in stabilising your inner elemental.”

Mark inhales sharply, knowing that he isn’t left with a choice. “I understand, sir.”

“Good. You can head down to the courtyard and start when the clock hits twelve. I’ll have someone check in on you hourly until it’s done. And Mark?” Headmaster Kang’s tone shifts, the gentleness replaced with a sharper edge. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Mark could only afford to nod robotically before he leaves the office, each step heavier than the last. At the rate he’s going, he’s not sure if any type of confinement could help with the inner turmoil he’s feeling.

✦ ✦ ✦

The headmaster lied.

It only took one hour in for Mark to realise that no, nobody was going to check in on him as he’s standing in the middle of the courtyard, alone and on the verge of passing out under the intense summer heat.

It’s also a weekend, which explains why the academy feels so desolate— not like that would have helped in any way, whatsoever. He’s convinced that this so-called ‘rehabilitation’ is nothing more but a thinly veiled punishment for luring the wraiths onto school grounds; as though he even meant to do it on purpose in the first place.

If it weren’t for his recently-discovered abilities— emotional resonance, or whatever— he’s sure he wouldn’t even be able to make it to the twenty minute mark, let alone a whole hour. And with three more to go, he doesn’t think even his inner elemental could help him with that.

He doesn’t notice Donghyuck walk up to him until the boy taps him on his shoulder, grimacing upon taking in his face.

“Headmaster Kang told me to come tap you out,” he says cautiously.

Mark’s hazy mind barely processes Donghyuck’s words. He’s pretty sure it’s only been two and a half hours, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. His body gives out immediately, collapsing under the weight of exhaustion. A wave of nausea hits him, and before he could stop it, the bile rises quickly in his throat before it spills all over the ground in a violent retch.

Donghyuck cringes, crouching hesitantly before handing him a bottle of water. “Pretty rough, huh?”

“Shut up,” he heaves, taking a mouthful of water before spitting it out. “How come?”

“Um,” Donghyuck seems hesitant to continue, but he sighs eventually. “Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this, so you didn’t hear this from me! But, uh… a transaction, of sorts, has been made. Believe me, I was not on board with it at all, but she was just so fucking adamant-“

“What?”

Donghyuck glances around, as though to make sure nobody is listening. “Someone, made a deal with the headmaster to let her do isolation instead of you doing the full four hours,” he says in a hushed whisper. “You know, someone being-“

“Yeah, I got it, Hyuck,” Mark answers gruffly, getting back to his feet unsteadily as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where is she?”

“I-“ Donghyuck’s jaw tightens before he swallows. “The old library. When she heard that you were going to be put in solar confinement, she marched straight to the headmaster’s office to tell him to lighten your sentence and to give it to her instead. I don’t- damn it,” he sighs, struggling to form his own words as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “She’s been avoiding you. Blaming herself for the shit that went down. It’s like she thinks her visions were promises that she broke, or something. I keep telling her that it’s not her fault, but she just won’t listen. She’s convinced that staying away from you is the only way to keep you safe.”

And suddenly, everything comes rushing down to him. The Umbras that surrounded him, the white light that blinded him. The sound of your sobs, the feeling of his head in your lap. The way your voice cracked when you whispered his name, filled with guilt and fear.

Mark lets out a shaky exhale before he moves past Donghyuck, but the boy stops him.

“Not now,” he grits through his teeth, his eyes flickering upward momentarily. Mark follows his gaze, seeing the headmaster’s shadow behind the glass window at the very top floor. “You’re a walking target now, remember that. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Don’t have to worry about that." Mark shrugs Donghyuck’s hand off his shoulder. "From now on, I’ll just do everything my way.”

You can’t feel anything in your palms.

You’ve been trying to conjure fire for the past twenty minutes, the emptiness in your hands gnawing on the edges of your sanity. It’s not just the absence of heat— it’s the absence of you, and in the suffocating quiet of the old library, it seems that that part of you has been snuffed out.

But this is what you asked for, right?

Mark had gotten hurt because of you; went into solar confinement because of you. If isolating yourself means not crossing paths with him anymore, maybe you could stop feeling the guilt of failing. Maybe you won’t have to see Mark hurt again and know it’s because of you.

Maybe you’ll finally have some peace.

Still, there’s a nagging voice at the back of your head that refuses to be silenced. The voice you heard in your vision, commanding the army of Umbras to engulf Mark— you know it wasn't just another cruel trick of your mind; not when it's so familiar, so authoritative.

You didn't want to believe it, but in the cold, soulless library, the truth suddenly hits you with a sickening clarity. That voice you heard in your vision was the voice you hear every single day.

It was Headmaster Kang.

Your heart thumps wildly against your chest, and you almost miss the creak of the door behind you in the midst of your revelation, only frantically blinking your thoughts away when you see a white light illuminate the otherwise dark room. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Mark.” Your voice is hoarse from disuse. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He ignores you, stepping further into the room towards where you are in between the shelves. His gaze sweeps over the makeshift cot you’ve been using, the scattered bandages, the faint scorch marks on the walls— your desperate attempts to summon even a spark.

You finally turn to him, and Mark inhales sharply upon taking in your features. Your eyes are swollen like you’ve been crying, and the streaks on your cheeks are raw, angry, as though your tears carried the heat of your abilities, stinging your skin as they fell.

Your vision lands on the orb of light that hovers above his palm; small, but bright enough to light the space in between the both of you. “How come?”

“I don’t know,” he replies just as quietly. The light disappears as he puts down his hand, leaving the room basking in a dim light only illuminated by the moon outside. “Guess confinement didn’t work for me.”

You nod stiffly, averting your gaze to the window to your left when Mark kneels before you. He doesn’t miss the way you clench your fists tightly.

“Let me see,” he murmurs as he reaches towards your hands.

You hesitate at first, but you don’t know what it is that makes you give in finally— whether it’s the weight of your own exhaustion, or the way your name so softly escapes his lips that prompts you to extend your arms towards him.

Mark gently takes your hands into his, the warmth of his touch grounding you despite the rawness of your skin. Pulling out a roll of fresh bandages from his pockets, he begins to wrap them.

“You know,” he starts lightly. “I used to do this a lot in Taekwondo. Bandaging hands, I mean. Usually for someone who landed a bad punch.” He glances at you through his lashes, as though trying to gauge if his attempt at humour has landed. “Though I don’t suppose you punched anyone, right?”

You chuckle softly, sniffing as you raise your free hand to dry your cheek. Mark gives you a lopsided smile before he continues, and the both of you settle into a silence.

“Does the headmaster know you’re here?” You ask, just as he’s about to finish with your second hand. Mark replies with a hum.

“I’m sure he does. He’s been watching me like a hawk the entire day. Listen…” he trails off, his eyes fixed on your hand still in his. He’s done with wrapping you up, but he doesn’t let go, his fingers fumbling over yours as though he’s thinking of something. You don’t mind.

“I know this is just how things go here, but do you really think that makes it right? Why does he keep throwing us into confinement instead of teaching us how to control our abilities?” He asks, frustration evident in his tone. Mark finally lets go of your hands, but his gaze lingers on them.

You part your lips to reply, but Mark beats you to it.

“And don’t even get me started on you.” His voice drops as he meets your eyes. “Donghyuck told me what you did. What the hell were you thinking? Throwing yourself into confinement- do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You could feel your tears start to burn, but you’re fixed on not letting them fall as you look down on your lap. “I was just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Mark laughs bitterly. “You think isolating yourself, weakening yourself, is protecting me? You think I’d want that?”

“It wasn’t just about you, Mark,” you argue, though your voice falters. “I just thought- if I stopped having visions, I could stop failing. Stop feeling-“ You cut yourself off when you feel yourself getting choked up, and Mark’s features soften.

“Stop feeling guilty?” He completes your sentence for you, and you nod hesitantly.

“Headmaster Kang doesn’t know about my visions,” you admit. “I knew he was going to send me into confinement if I did, which is ironic because I ended up doing that to myself anyway. But it’s also because-“ you hesitate. Mark watches you intently, waiting for you to continue.

“There’s a prophecy,” you finally say, swallowing harshly. “I didn’t understand it at first. I kept seeing someone surrounded by light and shadows, but the more you showed up, the more it started to make sense. You were the centre of it all.”

Mark’s expression hardens. “A prophecy? What does it say?”

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “They’re all vague, like most prophecies are. But it talks about light and darkness… and someone being consumed by the other. I think- I think they’re about you.”

Something flickers in his eyes. “And you’ve been keeping this all to yourself?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you, Mark,” you protest, almost pleadingly. “And it’s not just that- there’s something else.” You stall, unsure if you should share the next part, but you push forward. “In my last vision… there was a voice. It commanded the wraiths, telling them to find you. Someone’s been controlling them, and I think…” you exhale shakily. "I think that someone is the headmaster."

Mark stiffens, but you continue before he could say something. “There’s a reason why I’ve been keeping this to myself. I don’t know what he knows, but I knew I couldn’t tell him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not until I find out why he's doing this.”

“So, what? You decided to take this all in yourself? You thought you could just fix this on your own?” The anger in his voice has dissipated by now, replaced with a mix of desperation and concern.

You lower your head, the weight of his words pressing on you. “I just wanted to keep you safe. Keep everyone safe.”

“And what if I don’t need saving?” He asks, his voice quieter now. “What if what I need, is for you to be there with me? To help me figure this shit out?”

“I’m sorry,” you choke, tears already spilling down your cheeks at his words. Your features crumple in pain, and Mark seems to notice as he quickly takes your face in his hands.

“No, no. I’m sorry. Don’t cry,” Mark murmurs, his thumbs working in wiping the moisture away.

“Mark, stop,” you croak as you try to push his hands away, knowing your tears would burn him the way it does you. But Mark is unyielding, his palms holding the sides of your head firmly as he urges you to look at him.

“Listen to me,” he insists. “You don’t get to shoulder this all on your own. You don’t get to punish yourself because things didn’t go the way you thought it would. Whatever this prophecy means, and whatever happens next, we face it together. Got it?”

You finally look at him through your tears, and Mark offers you a soft, pained smile as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. He’s looking at you so tenderly, like you aren’t the monster you’ve convinced yourself to be. 

For the first time in forever, you feel a flicker of hope ignite inside you.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Together.”

The door creaks open, and Donghyuck looks up from the paperback he’s holding, brows raising when he sees you and Mark.

“Well, well, well.” He shuts his book, settling it down on his lap before leaning back in his chair, making himself comfortable. “Look who decided to rejoin society. I didn’t think I’d see you until the next apocalypse.”

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, your hands brushing against the bandages still wrapped around your palms. Weirdly enough, it brings you a sense of comfort; less like a remedy for your wounds, and more of a quiet reassurance.

“Donghyuck,” you say quietly, ignoring his quip. “We need your help.”

The boy shakes his head as he stands up. “Nuh-uh. Not until you tell me what the hell is going in that head of yours, little lady. Do you have any idea how worried Mark’s been? How worried I’ve been? Seriously, I thought you’d buried yourself with the way you holed yourself up in there!”

Despite the tension in your body, you still find it in you to roll your eyes at your friend’s nagging. You know that’s just how Donghyuck is; always one for the dramatics. It’s his way of showing he cares, as much as it grates your nerves sometimes.

“Enough, man. She’s here now, and that’s all that matters, alright?” Mark cuts in, and Donghyuck narrows his eyes at him.

“Right. So tell me-“ He gestures between you and Mark. “What’d you do to get her out? Sweet talk her? Promise her eternal gratitude? Or, don’t tell me!“ Donghyuck gasps dramatically as he turns to you. “He gave you some heartfelt speech about how you’re not alone and how devastated he would be if you wasted your days in there?”

Your cheeks heat up as you look away, and Mark clears his throat awkwardly. Donghyuck is snickering to himself, but quickly stops when he registers your reaction.

“No way. He actually did that? I was kidding!” He scoffs, almost in disbelief. “You gotta tell me what you said, Mark. I might need it someday.”

Mark only groans. You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s just embarrassed as you; the subtle change in the air says it all. Based on the growing smirk on Donghyuck’s face, you know he feels it too.

“Hyuck, will you just shut up and listen? We need your help. It’s about the east wing.”

At the mention of the east wing, Donghyuck’s smile falters. “East wing? What about it?”

Mark turns to look at you, and you know that he’s leaving it to you to explain. You take in a deep breath.

“When I was in isolation, I lost my abilities momentarily. But I don’t think it was the isolation that caused that. It was the old library.” 

Donghyuck’s brows furrow. “What? But it works the same way as solar confinement, doesn’t it? It weakens your abilities in general.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.” You shake your head. “Solar confinement targets your physical fatigue— it drains you, making it harder to control your abilities. There was no reason for me to lose mine when all I did was coop myself up in a room alone. The energy in there, Hyuck… it’s different. It doesn’t just drain me, it interferes with the connection to my abilities.”

You turn to Mark. “That’s also how you were able to conjure light in the library, even though you went through confinement. All of this has something to do with the prophecy, I’m sure.”

“Wait- prophecy? What prophecy?” Donghyuck interrupts, confused.

You nod. “Through my visions, I saw a prophecy-“ you pause to gauge his reaction, but his silence prompts you to continue. “Something involving light and darkness. We need to find out what it is and I think the old library has the answers we need. And Headmaster Kang-“ You cut yourself off, his name sounding bitter on your lips. “I need to find out if he’s really behind all of this.”

Donghyuck stares at you for a long moment before he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You guys really know how to ruin a perfect evening, don’t you?” He mutters, though the way he’s already putting on his jacket betrays his reluctance. “And for the record, I’ve always known there was something off about that guy.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, and Donghyuck squints his eyes at you. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet. I can’t believe you kept all this shit from me! You’re explaining everything on the way. And you.” He turns to Mark, who raises a brow. “If you hurt her, I’ll make it my mission to read every single embarrassing memory you’ve ever had. Non-stop. For weeks.”

Mark laughs wryly. “Yeah, alright. You can’t even read me properly.”

“Cocky now, aren’t we?” Donghyuck wiggles his fingers ominously. “Remember, the more guilt you feel, the easier it is for you to be read. So tread lightly, lover boy.”

You try to suppress a snort as you shove past the two boys, stepping out into the hallway to mask your own burning cheeks. “You’re insufferable, Hyuck.”

You don’t see the way Mark’s lips twitch into a faint smile as he watches you walk ahead, nor do you catch Donghyuck narrowing his eyes at him and mouthing, I’m watching you, before stalking after you.

✦ ✦ ✦

The stillness of the night is almost unnatural, but you feel strangely at ease. You wonder if it has anything to do with Mark in front of you, his shoulders loose and pace steady. The air around him is calm, no longer weighed down by the tension that used to betray his every thought. It seems that he’s gotten better at keeping his emotions in check, and for once, it doesn’t feel like you’re walking on eggshells around him.

He stops before the entrance of the old library, glancing behind his shoulder to look at you and Donghyuck. The latter is weirdly quiet, but you don’t blame him one bit. As far as you know, Donghyuck has never stepped foot into the east wing before, the fire having happened way before he even enrolled in the academy. The weight of having to use his abilities tonight must be daunting as it is unsettling.

He steps forward, eyeing the melted doorknob before placing his hand on it gingerly. You hold your breath as he does so, only to gasp quickly afterwards when you take in his reaction.

Donghyuck tenses immediately, his limbs locking as though he’s being struck by an unseen force. It looks like he’s trapped in a trance with the way his eyes roll to the back of his eyelids, chin tilted to the ceiling. You’ve never seen him react this way before, and you know it isn’t normal.

“Hyuck!” You step towards him, only for Mark to pull you back by your wrist. He shakes his head at you, as though to signal you not to interfere just yet. His free hand glows with a soft, white light when he raises it, ready for what might come next.

You gnaw on your bottom lip nervously as you wait for the situation to play out, opting to put your trust in Mark for now. The seconds stretch on unbearably, and you soon notice the faint trickle of blood from Donghyuck’s nose. Before you could react, Mark beats you to it, quickly placing his hand over Donghyuck’s.

The contact immediately breaks him from the trance he was in, and Donghyuck stumbles back with a gasp, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“Hyuck, you alright?” You ask, your arms already stretched out in case you needed to catch him. “Did you see something?”

“Smoke,” he mumbles, his eyes unfocused as though still in a daze. “Black smoke. And… Umbras. Lots of them.” Donghyuck shakes his head, his brown hair falling into his eyes as he wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “This has never happened before.” “I know. I’m sorry,” you say apologetically. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No. You were right.” Donghyuck meets your gaze. “Something definitely went down in here. I saw a book.”

Mark perks from beside you. “A book?”

“Yeah. I could feel that it’s ancient. Enchanted. The problem is… it looked like any other leather-bound book in the ancient section of the library. How the hell are we supposed to find it? I mean, we could probably head over and I could touch each individual one-“

“No, don’t. That’s too much for you to handle, Hyuck. We don’t want a repeat of whatever this was.” You shake your head as you gnaw on your bottom lip, the gears in your head turning as you think of another option.

“We wouldn’t have to do that anyway,” Mark suddenly murmurs from beside you, and you turn to him in confusion.

He isn’t looking at you, his eyes distant as though he’s deep in thought. Mark swallows before he finally meets your eyes.

“Because it’s in his office. I saw it.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Of course. That’s such an amateur villain thing to do! Hiding a literal weapon out in the open?”

“How did you know it was the one?” You ignore Donghyuck, prompting Mark to continue.

“At first, I couldn’t stop staring at it. Like there was some sort of unseen force pulling at me. But then, it started to glow,” Mark recounts before taking in a sharp inhale. “My abilities weren’t awakened yet, so I brushed it off. I thought I was seeing things. Guess I was wrong.”

Silence stretches between the three of you as Mark’s confession hangs in the air, and Donghyuck is the first to break the silence.

“So… what now?” He voices cautiously.

You don’t need to look at Mark to see the glint of determination in his eyes, the shift in the air telling you all you need to know.

“We pay the headmaster a little visit.”

In hindsight, you should have known that things were bound to go awry the moment it started being too good to be true.

You’re situated in the ancient section of the new library with Donghyuck and Renjun, a mountain of books stacked on the floor around you as you rapidly skim through each one.

Renjun groaned loudly. “Remind me what we’re looking for again? You know I can’t help you guys if I don’t know what we’re doing, right?”

“Something. Anything,” Donghyuck muttered distractedly. He seemed to be considerably more productive than you, only needing to graze his palm across the surface of each book before moving on to the next one. Then again, you’re not a psychometrist.

“Anything you can find on Mark’s biological family, or the history behind his abilities. Or maybe something like…” you trailed off when your eyes catch the body of text in the book you’re currently holding, and your breath caught in your throat. “This.”

The Lee Clan of Jeonju — Rulers of the Resonant Throne 공명의왕좌

The boys were by your side in an instant, peering over your shoulders to read through the page.

“The Lee Clan was once a dynasty of empathic rulers, believed to govern not with force, but with resonance— the ability to weave emotions into power…” Renjun murmured.

“This has to be it, right?” Donghyuck blurted. “Look here. The remaining Lee descendants scattered, their bloodline diluted over the generations, and now believed to have ceased to exist. Yet, an ancient prophecy speaks of a final descendant— one who will either restore the throne or silence it forever.”

The air around you stilled, none of you daring to say anything as you slowly registered the newfound information you just learned.

Mark is a descendant of a royal bloodline— that had to count for something, right?

The double doors barges open suddenly, startling you from your thoughts. Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear— it’s Mark, with a leatherback book in his hands.

“I got it,” he says, slightly out of breath as he approaches the table next to you. You’re quick to abandon the books on the floor as you stand up to move next to him, Donghyuck and Renjun following suit.

“Thank God you’re alive! We almost thought you’d triggered a booby trap or something with how long you took. I told you, you should have let one of us tag along!” Donghyuck chides.

“There was no booby trap, and I’m here now, aren’t I?” Mark answers wryly, setting the book on the wooden surface with a soft thump. There was no reason for him to involve you, or any of the boys in taking the book from the headmaster’s office. Not when the stakes were too high, and especially not when the wrong move could cost you everything.

He glances towards you, and you’re already looking at him with a look he couldn’t exactly decipher. Mark hopes it’s not his own nerves that’s you’re mirroring— he believes he has gotten better at controlling them. Then again, he’s pretty sure he’s still awful at concealing just how much he cares for you.

“So, what are we waiting for? Open the book,” Renjun demands impatiently.

With a deep breath, Mark flips the heavy cover open to the first page, only to reveal…

Nothing.

“What?” He exhales in confusion, quickly flipping to the other pages, each turn more frantic than the last. “It’s empty? Why the hell is it empty?”

“Let me try.” Donghyuck steps forward, all humour gone from his voice as he rests his palm on the yellowed pages, closing his eyes at the same time.

“Shit…” he mutters after a few seconds, his irises glazed the moment he opens them. “I got nothing. Are you sure you took the right book?”

“Yes, Hyuck, seeing as it was the only one that was glowing, I’d say I’m pretty damn sure.”

“Okay, calm down, you guys,” you step in, inhaling sharply. “Look, why don’t we all go back to his office and see what else we can find? And Mark, about your family-“

Your words are cut off by a sharp creak from the doorway. You spin around, your breath catching in your throat when you see Headmaster Kang standing in the entrance, his dark gaze sweeping over all of you.

“Well, well.” His voice is calm, but there's a chilling edge to it. “I suppose I should have expected this.”

“Get out of the way, Kang,” Mark says lowly, stepping forward as he blocks your path.

Headmaster Kang just smirks, stepping into the room slowly. “I don’t think I will. You should have stayed out of this, all of you. This is bigger than any of you can understand.”

Before anyone could react, he raises a hand, and suddenly, a rush of air fills the room. With a sharp gesture, he sends a wave of energy towards you, knocking everyone back into the shelves. You barely even register the pain that sears through your bones, quickly getting back to your feet with your hands at the ready for whatever comes next.

“I’ve been patient, Mark, but this little game you’ve been playing ends now. Tell me what’s in the book.”

Mark’s jaw clenches. “No.” His clenched fists already a glowing white, but you know he’s holding back— holding you back from stepping in as he relaxes his fingers behind his back, signalling you not to do anything. 

Headmaster Kang’s lips curl into a thin smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “You think you have a choice in this?”

With a sharp movement, he raises his arms, instantly unleashing an army of Umbras which come barrelling straight towards you and your friends. You’re quick to conjure the flames in your palms, but Mark is much quicker as he summons a massive shield, just in time to deflect the attack— but not for long.

Mark’s shield pulses and flickers as he struggles to keep it steady, and you know it would only be a matter of time before it breaks. Your lips part. “Mark-“

“Take the book, and go,” he grunts through gritted teeth, glancing at Renjun. “Conjure a portal and get out of here.”

“Are you crazy? He’s going to fucking kill you!” Donghyuck cries.

“He doesn’t know that I can’t read the book. So long as I can keep him distracted, I can buy you guys some time,” Mark pants, ignoring the younger’s claim. He finally turns to you, and your heart drops at the sight of his paling lips— his shield is weakening, and you know it won’t last much longer. “Go.”

You want to argue, but you don’t. You know what he’s asking; the risk he’s taking for you to figure things out.

So you settle for a nod, already feeling the tears burn in your eyes as you grab the book from the table. You barely hear the headmaster’s furious shout before Renjun’s portal opens up, and you step inside.

The last thing you see is Mark’s smile— a tired one, but one that makes your heart swell tenfold nonetheless.

You find yourself in the courtyard of the academy. From the outside, the building looks as unassuming as ever, untouched by the havoc unraveling within. As though it isn’t infested with evil; as though Mark isn’t still inside, holding the line with everything he has.

It’s silent, save the laboured breaths coming from you, Renjun and Donghyuck. You’re still hugging the book tightly against your chest, and you finally loosen your grip as you let you arms fall to your lap.

If you weren’t already staring at it so intently, you would have missed it— the amber glow that seems to emit from within, through the gaps in the pages. Your skin tingles before it quickly starts to hurt, the contact between the hardback cover and your hands burning you in a way you’ve never felt before. 

You release the book with a startled gasp, even kicking it away in the midst of your panic. You vaguely hear the boys calling for you, but you don’t turn to them, your eyes trained solely on the book, now glowing amber.

You let out a shaky exhale before swallowing harshly, pushing yourself off the ground to reach for it once more.

“What the hell are you doing?” Renjun asks.

You ignore him, hastily flipping the book open to a random page. Surprisingly, it doesn’t burn you anymore, and what greets you instead are the once-blank pages that start to fill slowly, bodies of anxient texts and symbols swirling before your very eyes.

“What the fuck?” Donghyuck murmurs from beside you, proving that you aren’t the only one seeing this.

“The prophecy,” you whisper shakily as the words begin to form across the pages, loud and bold.

When the bearer of light and the flame that defies the abyss stand as one, the veil shall break and fate will awaken. By nature's decree, only the fittest shall endure, and balance will be restored.

Silence.

“So you’re the final descendant of the Lee clan? What the fuck? Does that mean you’re related to Mark?”

“No, you idiot!” Renjun smacks the back of Donghyuck’s head, the latter crying dramatically in return. “It means-“

“-that I need to go back in there.” You finish his sentence for him, finally looking at your two friends. “This is why I’ve been getting those visions. Mark isn’t supposed to fulfil the prophecy alone-“ you pause. “It’s because I’m supposed to fulfil it with him.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Mark could taste copper on his tongue.

His vision is starting to swim and his limbs are heavy, but he forces himself to push through. He couldn’t give in now— not when the Umbras are still barelling towards him at a hundred miles per hour; not when Kang is still alive and breathing.

His shield flickers weakly in front of him, the toll of every attack weighing down on his bones. The old library is engulfed in darkness, the light he emits not bright enough, making it difficult for him to tell between wraith and shadow, and his blind attacks aren’t doing much to ease his fatigue.

That is, until he feels a shift in the air; a warmth cutting through the cold.

Of course. Of course, you’re here. As much as he had been counting on you to stay outside, he couldn’t say he’s surprised that you’re back.

“Mark, listen to me!” Your estranged yell cuts through the loud hissing of the wraiths as they burst into flames at your constant fireballs. “I need you to stop channelling!”

The white glow emitting from his palms falter slightly at your words, but Mark doesn’t turn to you. “What?” He rasps as he continues to unleash orb after orb. “Are you- no! It’s too dangerous!”

“Trust me, please,” you urge. “I saw the prophecy. You have to trust me!”

Mark glances at you— just for a split second— but a split second is more than enough; enough for you to know that he hears you.

He trusts you not just with his life, but with the parts of himself he’s never dared to give away. And maybe that’s what scares him the most. Not the battle, not the prophecy, but just how much you mean to him.

Which is why he decides to let go.

He relaxes his hands, and the white light that surrounds him fractures like glass. You see the power leaving not just his fingertips, but his entire being, and you lunge towards him to keep him from falling.

With his shield gone, you conjure your own, the wraiths around you bursting into flames instantly.

“Mark,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel your muscles begin to strain with the weight of your shield. You don’t hesitate to take his hands into your shaky ones even despite the absence of your gloves, knowing now that your abilities won’t hurt him. If anything, it’s necessary.

“When the bearer of light and the flame that defies the abyss stand as one,” you say through clenched teeth, feeling your chest grow heavy with each word that escapes your lips. The air around you starts to shift, but you press on.

“By nature’s decree, only the fittest shall endure...”

Your ears are ringing at this point, and you could barely hear yourself with the shrill hissing of the restless Umbras around you. Headmaster Kang’s strained yell cuts through the noise, and even though you can’t see him, you know he’s getting weaker.

“…and balance will be restored.”

Your shield breaks, and when you finally open your eyes, you’re met with a blinding light— white and amber, burning side by side but never merging. You look at your hands, still intertwined with Mark’s, the glow mirroring the colours you see above you. The Umbras are no longer coming towards you; instead, they surge towards Headmaster Kang like moths to a flame.

Shadows coil around him, clawing and tearing as he thrashes, until his screams are eventually swallowed by darkness and his form unravels into nothingness.

As quickly as they came, the Umbras vanish, leaving only silence and emptiness in their wake.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, your eyes instantly blurring with tears.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

You look down at Mark, his head still in your lap, and you’re surprised to see that he’s already awake and looking at you, a weak smile on his lips.

“You did it,” he says quietly, the awe in his voice stirring something in you. He reaches for your face, his thumb carressing your cheek softly to wipe the moisture from your skin. “S’proud of you. My Azula.”

Despite yourself, you find yourself laughing. You still don’t know who or what an Azula is, but his usage of my made you so giddy, you don’t let yourself think twice before lowering your head and crashing your lips against his.

Mark meets you halfway, and the way he smiles into the kiss tells you everything you need to know.

Despite the steady stream of people coming and going on the academy grounds, you stay seated on the floor of the courtyard, far too exhausted to move a limb. All around you, students carry boxes and bags, their footsteps quick and voices a blur of confused questions and hurried farewells. You can’t find the energy in you to go back inside to pack your belongings, even if it’s to leave this place for good— not after everything that had just unfolded.

“So…” Donghyuck exhales. “What now?”

“It’s gonna take a while for the ministry to rebuild the school. Even then, I don’t think there’s any use in waiting,” Renjun sighs, his head lolling against his hand as his elbow rests on his knee. “Should I go back to China?”

“Can I come with you?”

“Fuck no. You’re a liability. I can’t risk getting stuck at customs because you decided to read the airport staff during security checks,” Renjun mutters.

“I told you, that was one time!”

You let their bickering blur into the background, not really wanting to get involved despite how amusing you think it is. You glance to your left to see Mark, staring into the distance with a content smile on his lips.

“So,” you start. “What are you gonna do after this? Are you going back to your dojang?”

“Naaah…” Mark shrugs, resting his weight on his palms as he leans backwards. He finally turns to you, his boyish grin growing wider at the sight of your face. You don’t miss the pink hue that paints his cheeks.

“I was thinking, um,” he stalls as he tries to find his words. You stay silent, prompting him to continue. “I was thinking of going to Jeonju. You know, find out more about my biological family, and all that.”

You nod in understanding. It only makes sense, seeing as you had only managed to tell him briefly about his ancestors earlier. You make a mental note to pick up the book from earlier later after packing your items.

“Do you wanna come with me?”

His question causes your eyes to widen, and Mark’s smile turns bashful. He chuckles nervously.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course,” he hurriedly explains. “Seoul’s your home. I’d understand if you don’t wanna-“

“Yes, Mark,” you cut him off with a beam. “Yes. I’d love to.”

Mark exhales, a mixture of a relief sigh and laughter. “Yeah?”

You nod, and Mark brings a hand to cup your cheek as he smiles at you softly. You lean into his touch, savouring his warmth.

This is it, you think. As the sun rises above the academy and casts a golden glow over the ruins of the past, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

[grendil9]

"removing the constitution from the website" it's stuff like this that gives hints to goy, just enough to keep the smarter ones quiet and uninterested, that all of the insane "reactions" are indeed the true and sole purpose of "the government" otherwise known as polslop.

You're supposed to say "Uh, actually, they were just taking the constitution down for maintenance". You're supposed to say that. They need you to say that, you dumb slave. The purpose of people talking about how they did that is to make you comment. The purpose of them removing the constitution for a few hours or whatever, and then drawing attention to it in every post by every liberal-team bot on social media, is to make you comment. There was no maintenance, they need your comments. They need your belief. There are no teams, one single entity decides on which funny things to do to keep you commenting, and this is just one of them.

Every "event" like this, is just, quite literally, just a dumb show. Browbeating the weak and innocent into insane beliefs, culminating in self-castration (trans), and demoralizing the intelligent and capable into submission. Making the more perceptive goy say: "Maybe we deserve this dumb show that hurts people and conquers peoples minds, after all look how effective it is on my foolish brothers and sisters."

Polslop's existence renders the masses incapable of unity. There's no chance people who actually believe the dumb polslop, and all the stupid cartoon characters like trump and michelle and biden and shit, and people who don't believe in any of it, could ever really get along outside of immediate necessity. And of course they're so easily mislead already.

The "trump will save us" people are a damned people. Anyone who believes that government is real is going to be left behind by God. It's idolatry. It's a gay drag show with trump making gay drag queen insults for Adult Men to lap up. It just fucking sucks, way worse now that all the pageantry disappeared with Obama. It's just so gay and hopeless and demoralizing. How could you still believe government is real? How can you believe that that wailing shemale bag makes any important decisions at all. What a joke!

As far as I'm concerned if you believe that any single actor or group of actors in any government in the world makes any decision at all, you're defeated. You're ruled by evil. Every politician on earth is a golem with a round golem-male body or stick-thin emaciated golem-female body. They just exist to zombie-walk around on stages with their flabby soulless conscienceless corpses, and beautiful expensive masonic suits, and shoulder-pads, and colorful occult-meaning ties. Sometimes they'll read off a script, written by an AI and approved by a Skeksis boy, to keep you talking and confused and angry.

That is their sole purpose. They take your energy and torment you when you're in the shower or in bed, with their dumb meaningless plotlines that never go anywhere. Distracting and misleading the people. No "news story" they show you publicly isn't planned years and sometimes decades in advance. Or otherwise is just some spur-of-the-moment oneoff joke by some rabbi. That's all there is to it.

If it's on "the news" you can believe without a doubt that it's a planned hoax. There are no exceptions. If it actually happens, it doesn't go on the news. Real events that genuinely happen aren't spread to the public, because real events have too many unknowns. A real event could wake people up, so real events are smothered. Likewise real "leaders" of any kind are hunted down, gangstalked, electronically tortured, and driven to low-energy lifestyles, effectively "removing them from play".

I suppose I can't blame people who suffer the false belief that politics and democracy are real. After all the Skeksis are constantly poisoning the water supply. But it's still an evil thing, and it dominates so many minds, and there's really nothing more to it than just a dumb show.

As an observer from outside of America I'm genuinely quite astounded at how quickly things seem to be ramping up. I don't know why but I believed they would have a cold period where they'd just act like everything is normal before going full with their ideas.

But nope. Straight in to removing the constitution from the website; talking about raiding the homes of immigrant families; removal of the reproductive rights page; saying there are only 2 genders and now it seems they have the intention to make it so women can only get birth control with the permission of their husbands, fathers or a priest.

Thereby completely destroying years of good work for, not only reproductive rights, but women's health care as a whole.

This is only day 2 of the Presidency.

We are in for a long, painful, ride.

[adumbratrapedme]

Osamu Miya x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between osamu and reader.

wc. | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst, teen pregnancy mentions, fluff, etc.

teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

╭⋅OK! you guys havent been dating for long, perhaps just 5 months and the relationship was actually perfect except for the fact that Osamu wanted to keep it lowkey, not even his twin knew. ╭⋅Because i really love this headcanon that says that girls usually went to osamu just to get closer to atsumu or that everytime he liked someone atsumu would frlit with them and stuff like that ╭⋅ So thats why he wanted to keep it lowkey, what if his twin found out and started fliritng with you?? it kinda made u feel bad cuz it was like "he doesnt trust me enough?" but its okay, u understood at the end of the day tbh ╭⋅Anyways, Your first reaction? Pure panic. You went through the five stages of grief in your bedroom before finally accepting reality. ╭⋅ The thought of telling Osamu made your stomach churn. What if he freaked out? What if he left? But a small part of you knew he wasn’t that kind of person. ╭⋅The realization hit him in waves. ╭⋅The first wave was shock—like the world tilted off its axis. ╭⋅The second wave was fear—what would happen to you both? What would people say? How would this change everything? ╭⋅The third wave was responsibility—he wasn’t going to let you go through this alone. Not a chance.

Osamu never meant for things to get this complicated.

When you two first got together, it was supposed to be simple—lowkey, nothing flashy. Not because he was ashamed of you. Hell no. If anything, you were the best thing that had ever happened to him!!. But he knew his brother too well. Atsumu had this infuriating habit of developing crushes on girls Osamu liked, and Osamu wasn’t about to let that happen with you.

So, keeping it a secret had seemed like the safest option. Late-night calls, meeting up behind the gym, pretending to be just classmates in public. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked. At least, for a while.

Then Suna found out.

And of course, he had to be an asshole about it.

"You know, if you wanted to keep it a secret, maybe don’t stare at Y/N like they’re the last onigiri on earth every time they walk into the room," Suna had casually remarked one afternoon, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Osamu froze mid-bite of his lunch. You nearly choked on your drink.

Suna finally glanced up, smirking.

"How long have ya known?" Osamu muttered, already bracing for the answer.

"Since the first time Y/N called you ‘Samu’ instead of 'Miya.'”

Busted!!!!!!!.

That was months ago. Back when the biggest problem was keeping things quiet.

Now? Now things were a whole lot messier...

The two lines on the pregnancy test made sure of that.

Your hands trembled as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the small plastic stick that had just turned your entire world upside down. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. It felt surreal, like you were watching a scene from someone else’s life.

How am I supposed to tell Osamu?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, making you flinch. You snatched it up, your stomach twisting the moment you saw his name.

The hot twin (clearly he added himself like this): hey, wanna meet at the usual spot?

He had no idea.

You typed out a shaky yeah before grabbing your jacket, stuffing the test into your pocket, and heading out, perhaps this was the right moment, right?

Osamu was already waiting behind the gym, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes lit up the moment he saw you. That lazy half-smile—the one that always made your heart do stupid things—tugged at his lips.

But the second he got a good look at you, the smile faded.

His brows knit together. “What’s wrong?”

Your throat tightened. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. The words felt too heavy, too impossible to say out loud.

So instead, you reached into your pocket, pulled out the test, and held it out. It felt blunt to do it this way, but you figured it was better to get it over with now rather than later, if he was going to break your hearth maybe it should be now.

Osamu stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it. Then at you.

“…What’s this?” His voice was steady, but there was something else there. Something uncertain.

You forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

The kind that stretches for too long, making your chest ache.

Osamu blinked once, twice, then exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Shit.”

You nodded, because yeah.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His jaw tensed, his fingers flexed, his eyes flickered with a storm of emotions—shock, fear, something unreadable.

Then, before you could spiral any further, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms.

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding escaped in a shaky exhale as you melted into him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, securely, like he was trying to hold everything together.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured against your hair. “I promise.”

Your eyes burned. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that until now.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Panic still curled in your chest, making it hard to breathe, but then Osamu met your gaze—steady, unwavering. His hands stayed firm on your waist, grounding you, and for the first time since you saw those two pink lines, the chaos in your head quieted.

You weren’t alone in this.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a small, reassuring gesture. “I know it’s scary,” he admitted, voice low. “I’m scared too.”

Your heart clenched.

“But,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, “ya trust me, right?”

You nodded before you even realized it.

A slow, lopsided grin tugged at his lips. “Then we’ll be okay.”

And somehow, despite the panic still lingering at the edges of your mind, you believed him.

Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.