#DEDICATED . THE MOST HES EVER HAD TO BE IN HIS LIFE AND LOOK WHA HAPPENED TO HIS BEAUTIFUL CREATION. RRGRHHGRRRAAA!!!

[eebie]

HIS FUCKING CARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ll bet this is why Caliborn hates John

[whatisreggieshortfor]

First Words

You’re born with the first words your soul mate says in your presence. Yours enlightened you to realize something about yourself along the way.

Atsumu x trans!m!reader

Dedicated to @littlexbimbo for letting me bounce ideas off him 💛

No matter what your arm said, you doubted you’d ever meet your soul mate.

Your life had consistently been a mess from the beginning, your soul mate probably belonged to the person that was supposed to get your body at birth. You were born in the wrong one.

You’d known from an early age. You never felt a girl, never felt comfortable in dresses like your friends, never felt happy when your relatives would say you were beautiful, and you hated being told to be ladylike.

When you were in middle school, you found the term. Transgender. Suddenly the words scrawled on your arm made sense.

It took arguing, with your parents, with the school board, with your teachers, but you were finally, finally, going to be referred to as a male student.

Your old friends from middle school cut ties for the most part, some had said that you were changing just because of your soul mate words, but you ignored them. You’d felt happier in the last year of middle school than you had the rest of your life.

High school was better. Most of the students didn’t know who you were, so they didn’t have that opinion, or really any opinion in the matter. And then you decided to join the community at your school. The club wasn’t big, or even considered a legitimate club by a lot of the teachers, but there were a couple that would defend the students who joined. You became the president during your first year because other members were afraid of having that label. You wore it proudly.

You only really had friends in the club, not trusting other students to drop your friendship when they learned the truth. And so went your life at Inarizaki.

For a year, you didn’t invest yourself in anything but the pride club and schoolwork. But when you started your second year it was like you couldn’t stop hearing about the volleyball club. Supposedly the Wonder Twins™️ were in your year, but you could never remember meeting them, which didn’t bother you. You figured they couldn’t be hard to miss with the way people talked about them.

But you were wrong.

You had been walking to school, not paying much attention as you stared up at the clouds, when you tripped over your own feet and thudded into someone’s back. The boy groaned while the one next to him started laughing. “Sorry!” You offered. “My own two stupid feet. If I don’t watch them, they trip everyone!”

You didn’t notice the two boys freeze at your words before you settled back onto your heels and walked away.

Two periods into school, you heard rumors that someone was looking for you. Or more specifically, the guy you ran into earlier was trying to find the person that collided with him. You weren’t particularly excited to tell people it was you, it wasn’t worth getting your ass kicked over running into someone. You almost made it through the day without issue. Until you went to use the bathroom.

“L/N? Shouldn’t you be using the girls room?”

You rolled your eyes to yourself upon hearing one of the very few people that remembered you from middle school. You started turning around, about to snap back when a voice cut you off, “Ya blind or somethin’? That’s a guy.” Your eyes immediately skidded over to the boy that stood there, glaring down at your bully, and you couldn’t get your mouth to work. Eventually the bully gave up on the stare down and stomped off, leaving you gaping at your rescuer. He turned to you with a sigh, “I been lookin’ for ya all day, ya know?”

You tugged your sleeves further down your wrists, “Do we know each other?”

“Naw, not yet.” You narrowed your eyes at him, and he looked almost nervous, “Ya actually ran into ma brother earlier.”

“Listen, I’m not trying to fight you guys-“

“Wha-? No, no, it’s what ya said when it happened.” He held his arm out, shirt sleeve pulled up, words glaring at you, ‘Sorry! My own two stupid feet. If I don’t watch them, they trip everyone!’

“Sorry. I don’t…have words.” The guy deflated, almost like he’d been building himself up for this moment and he was exceedingly let down…or maybe relieved?

“Alrighty. Sorry to bother ya.”

Before you could stop yourself, you asked, “What was your name, by the way?”

“Atsumu. Miya Atsumu.”

A few minutes later, you stood in front of the bathroom sink, staring down at the words on your arm, ‘Ya blind or somethin’? That’s a guy.’ You shook your head, “I’m sorry, Atsumu. You’re better off if you don’t know.”

You couldn’t stop seeing him after that. It was like you every time you turned around, there he was. You decided that maybe another activity would take your mind off lying to your soul mate, so you allowed your counselor to set up a meeting with a team captain that was looking for a manager.

You wished you had changed your mind before you entered the gym.

Kita was nice enough, introducing you to the team and explaining it was going to be a test run of your skills to see if you could handle the job. But you didn’t expect to find Atsumu there.

Looking back, it would have made sense, if you had ever bothered to learn the names of the Wonder Twins™️. Now every day you made sure the sleeves of your club jacket were pulled down over your arms, which most people didn’t question. Even when wearing short sleeved shirts, more often than not the words would still be covered until their person was found. People were worried that someone would just read their words out loud, and then those first meetings would be confusing. So the team didn’t ask you about it. And you didn’t tell. You couldn’t help but notice though, Atsumu left his out in the open. Some of the team had commented that he didn’t used to, but he never addressed why he stopped hiding them. You’d witnessed more than a few times that his fangirls would trip over themself in an over the top dramatic way and say the words to him when they landed at his feet. His response was always the same, gruffly telling them to be more careful before he walked away. The girl would pout about it, and the next one in line would try her luck. You’d always heard that he was a flirt, but you never saw it, and he’d had plenty of opportunities to showcase it.

Something you didn’t take into account when you started managing the club is how the soul mate bond can make you fall for each other, whether you try or not. In the two months since you joined, you’d seen Atsumu thriving on the court, like most of the people that liked him, but you also saw more than that. You saw him get into stupid fights with his brother, saw the multitude of videos that Suna had for blackmail, saw him whine about being hungry, angry when his sets aren’t hitting right, confused about homework, cracking jokes at nobody’s and everybody’s expense. There weren’t many facets of Atsumu that you didn’t know anymore.

You started getting concerned when he started working himself even harder than normal. Volleyball was his life, you knew that. You didn’t quite understand it, but you accepted it. Seeing him in the gym two hours after practice should have ended was starting to weigh on you. At first you chalked it up to being stuck there until he finished, and then you started seeing how raw he was pushing his hands.

“Miya, you need to rest.”

“Can’t.” He didn’t pause, moving right back to his serving practice. You sighed at the response. Since that day in the hallway, he barely says five words to you at a time.

You stood in front of him, watching him huff in frustration as you got in the way, “Can you at least take a break and let me tape your fingers? If you keep going like this, it won’t be long before you can’t go anymore.” He didn’t seem to like the statement, pulling a mildly bothered face before he nodded. You pulled him to the bench, getting to work as you closely examined the damage he’d been doing, “You’re gonna need to ice your fingers tonight, okay?” You glanced up to realize he’d been looking anywhere but you. “You okay, Atsumu? I know volleyball is important, but why are you hurting yourself for it?”

“Have to.” You waited, hoping that just this once, he’d give you more than that. But when it became clear he wouldn’t, you asked.

“Why do you have to? You’re one of the top setters in Japan.”

“I need ta be the best.” He still wasn’t looking at you, and you didn’t think he was even aware of the slight grip he took on your fingers, until his eyes suddenly snapped to yours, “I need ta push myself so that I can deserve ma soul mate.”

“I-“ You froze with wide eyes before you shook your head, turning back to his fingers, “Don’t be an idiot. If your soul mate can’t appreciate you without you needing to hurt yourself, then they are the one who’s not deserving. You’re a really good guy, Atsumu. Don’t think you need to change.”

“Clearly I do. Soul mate don’t want me.”

You replied quietly, more to yourself, “Maybe it’s that they want you too much, you big idiot. They don’t want you to suffer for being with them.”

“Shouldn’t I get ta decide that?” You felt the pang to your heart as he moved away from you, slowly tearing down the net and putting the balls away. The conversation faded away.

The day after you had a plan, but you were juggling with the idea of backing down. You felt guilty. Atsumu was insecure about the soul match and you could’ve helped him feel better but you didn’t. Practice rolled around as classes let out, and you stiffly pulled your jacket off, folding it onto the bench. The players took notice immediately, watching as you picked up your clipboard. Two sets of eyes focused on your revealed words, one with no thought to anything else.

As you moved about your daily actions, you could feel the eyes burning into you, and you braced yourself as you began to pass out their water bottles. Words on clear display as you held out Atsumu’s last, watching as he processed exactly what he was seeing. “I don’t know how you could think someone wouldn’t want you, you moron. Wha- Hey! Atsumu!” He didn’t reply as he tossed the bottle down, grabbing your arm and hauling you over his shoulder to take you outside of the gym.

“Why did you lie to me?”

You fiddled with your fingers after he set you down, figuring he deserved the truth, “I didn’t want to, okay? It just slipped out. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to deal with the shit I have to.”

“Shouldn’t I get a say in that?”

“I know. But-“ your hands flailed, “I’m not like you! Okay? You weren’t born in the wrong body, with a daily reminded on your arm that you aren’t right. I was trying to keep you from that.”

You watched the faux blonde sigh, “Aren’t right? Do you even know how perfect you are?” With wide eyes you stared at his soft smile, “Ya ain’t like me, but that don’t mean that ya aren’t right. Ya put up with me and ‘Samu fightin’, you can get Suna ta wake up and practice, Kita ‘nd Aran practically wanna adopt ya. Ya got a whole family in there that wanna help you when someone makes ya feel wrong. Ya just gotta let us in. Let me in. Because I’m not going anywhere now that I found ya.”

“Aren’t you bothered? That I was born-“

“You were born ta be exactly as ya are. Don’t let anyone tell ya different.” You hugged him as he smiled, and no one on the team questioned it when the two of came back with hands held.

Atsumu’s fangirls had been annoyed, some going damn near feral, when the news spread around the school, but the team never let you face it alone. Atsumu even took it upon himself to act as your bodyguard, while simultaneously boosting the popularity for your pride club. When you asked why he cared about it, he would just grin and say it was because his soul mate did.

Masterlist

[sunasbabie]

-ˋˏ with me ˎˊ-

paring: atsumu x reader

genre: angst/fluff

synopsis: all atsumu wanted was to be with you through it all

masterlist

it’s been years but atsumu still thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world. when he saw you tonight it was like seeing you for the first time. you always took away his breath whether you just woke up and your hair’s all over the play or after you’ve made yourself look all pretty for a date with him. he never gets tired of seeing your face.

and here you were wearing the most beautiful smile he’s even seen on you. talking to his old high school teammates. you were with suna telling him how you’re surprised that he went pro, cause out of all the people she didn’t expect him. you’d laugh at the lame jokes he was making. he wished it was his jokes that you were laughing at and wished that you were with him tonight.

osamu approached his brother placing a hand on his shoulder, “ya know y/n happier now” he stated as if it weren’t obvious to atsumu’s eyes.

“i know, all i ever wanted was for y/n to be happy” but i wanted you to be happy with me

his mind wanders back to the time that he got the offer to play for the black jackals.

atsumu came running in your shared bedroom holding his phone showing the screen to you. “i made it y/n, a professional team’s recruiting me to be their setter.

you jumped at him happy that he made it far and he made it big “oh my god ‘tsumu, that’s great” you squealed as he spun you around and placed you back on the floor.

“i’m so going to throw a party. will ya help me plan it?”

“of course baby, anything for you”

but your mind wandered, will he have time for me when he’s playing in the big leagues? will he feel bad that he barely has time for me now that all his time is dedicated to training and playing volleyball? will he still be there for me when i need him? will he regret his decision to date me? will i hold him back from achieving his dream?

you pushed your thoughts aside first, trying to decide where to hold atsumu’s celebratory party.

it was a week after he got the good news, atsumu was on top of the moon. getting to celebrate his achievements with his friends and family but most importantly you, the love of his life. never has he felt this in love with a person before, not even his past relationships. it was different with you, he felt like he was on top of the word and he could do anything as long as you were by his side. nothing you could say or do would upset him, but that’s what he thought before he heard the words he dreaded to hear from you come out of your mouth.

“let’s break up atsumu” he could literally hear his heart break over those four simple words.

“wha- why, y/n please tell me you’re drunk and just joking” he grabbed your hands in an attempt to make you admit it was only a joke. but you kept a straight face indicating that you were sober enough to tell him this.

“i’m serious atsumu, i want to break up. this” you gestured to the two of you “us, it’s just not working out for me anymore”

atsumu was in tears now he almost had everything he wanted but what did this have to happen when he almost reached his goals. why did you have to break up with him, why was this happening to him.

“please tell me why, just tell me anything i can do to fix it. i’ll do anything baby just don’t leave me” he was begging now and miya atsumu never begged and you knew this after spending so many years with him.

“i - i just don’t love you anymore atsumu. i can’t be in a relationship that’s one sided. it’s not fair to you or me” when he heard this he didn’t believe that his heart could break even more but it did, your words cut through him like knives.

“you can keep the apartment, after all you pay more than me. i’ll just get my stuff out as soon as possible” you removed your hands from his grasp because if they stayed there any longer you might just break. “i’m doing this for him” you repeated in your head until you believed it.

“no ya can keep it, i’ll just find another one, after all ya were the one who found this” he managed to tell you. he was breaking on the inside but he loves you enough to let you go if it makes you happy, even if it breaks him in the process.

“i’m really sorry atsumu”

he saw you walking closer to him with a smile of your face as if you didn’t break his heart 2 years ago. but in those two years all his hard work paid off when he won his first ever league and the best setter award.

“hey atsumu, osamu” you nodded at the both of them.

“hey y/n” he heard his brother say while he just nodded at you “how have ya been?”

“oh i’m great, i just received a promotion at work. actually i’m about to head home, i still have work tomorrow. see ya” you waved at the both of them as you turned around ready to head out.

“i can drive ya” it was like atsumu’s mouth had a mind of its own the words just flew out of his mouth.

you turned back around surprised that your ex had offered to take you home. you smiled politely at him “it’s fine you don’t have to-“

“no i insist, it’s already late. who knows who yer going to run into. wait here i’ll go get the car” he was actually serious with this, he didn’t want you going out late. even after all this time he still cares for you and that will never change.

you got into his car. the whole ride was almost silent, only the engine of his car was the sound that you could hear and the occasional passing of cars.

“so where am i taking ya?” he finally spoke while he took a glance at you.

“umm, it’s the same. you know where we used to share um... the old apartment.” you mumbled quietly but loud enough for atsumu to hear.

when the two of you arrived at your apartment complex you invited atsumu up to your apartment out of courtesy.

“hey uhm do you want to come up for a bit maybe i’ll get you some water, tea or something” you offered.

he smiled at your attempt but he knew better than to let his hopes up. “yeah, sure why not” he shrugged.

the elevator ride up to your floor was silent, even the walk to your unit. you opened the door letting atsumu in.

atsumu took notice of the place, it was almost the same as he left it two years ago, you barely did anything to it.

“so water, coffee or tea” you asked as you entered the kitchen.

“just some water please” you heard him reply.

atsumu was suddenly reminded of the day you broke it off with him. it was in this exact place and room. it was like he was reliving that dreadful day all over again.

“why?” you heard atsumu ask. you turned around puting the glass of water on the counter, it reminded you of the day you broke up with him, it was in this exact place and room. he had to know.

“why?” you heard him ask again, this time louder.

you turned around to face him putting the glass of water on the counter top. maybe it was time to tell him the whole truth of why you broke up with him. he was already at the top of his game and he had nothing to lose.

“i did it for you ‘tsumu” you said, your head low as if you were ashamed

“what do ya mean? did ya do it just to mess with me, break my heart after getting some good news?” he flailed his arms up, exaggerating his point

“i did it because i was holding you back atsumu, let’s be honest you wouldn’t have made it this far if you were still with me.” you paused walking closer to him “i’m so proud of you ‘tsumu i knew you could do it”

his heart was breaking again was that really the reason why you broke up with him? so you could see him succeed? but what about him? sure he got everything he wanted but you weren’t there.

“i wanted ya to be with me through every step of the way though” he took a deep breath “i wanted to come home to ya and tell ya about my day. i wanted ya to be there for me whenever my team lost. but most of all i wanted ya to be there with me when i won. if ya were with me i wouldn’t ask for anything else, but ya weren’t. all i ever wanted was to share everything with you. i wanted ya to be there for me when we won and i wanted to share my victory with ya because yer the one who’s always inspired me. i didn’t care about anything else except for ya.

you took a minute to process what he said to you, were you really being selfish when you broke it off with him. maybe so but there was no guarantee that he would have achieved all this with you by his side.

“i’m sorry atsumu i rea-”

“i still love ya y/n, i never stopped,” he interrupted you.

you didn’t know what to say, of course you still love him you never stopped either. all you wanted was the best for him.

he came closer and cupped your cheek in his hand “tell me ya still love me y/n, tell me ya still want me. tell me i’m not the only one feeling this way”

you let your hand sit on the hand that was cupping your cheek “you’re not the only one ‘tsumu, i still love you”

that was all he needed to hear before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

you pulled away hugging him by the waist “stay with me for the night”

he hugged you closer “what about forever”

[jasontoddswhitestreak]

what died didn’t stay dead

(originally posted by vormirjumper)

dedicated to @starsvck and @artipotter hope u enjoy this <333

summary: the last thing you remember was fainting in wakanda thinking you saw your own fingertips turn to dust only to wake up in a world where natasha romanoff no longer existed. inspired by marjorie by taylor swift

content warning: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, set after endgame, angst, mentions of death, trauma, their relationship ending on a bad note, trust issues & previous steve x nat, (WANDAVISION SPOILERS AT THE END)

‘моя любовь’ = ‘my love’ in russian <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (please lmk if anyone written something similar to this! & if you want more nat content lmk!)

masterlist

PART TWO

You forced your eyes open.

Pulling yourself up from the ground you glanced at your arms in confusion. You swore you saw your own hands turn to dust before fainting. You glanced around to take in your surroundings eyes widening in shock as you saw the hundreds of Wakandan's you fought beside minutes ago appearing out of dust. You stared speechless as you watched people materialise out of thin air, the dust forming into fingers, then a whole hand and eventually becoming a person who's mirroring your exact reaction.

You felt guilty about the first thought that came across your mind.

'Is Nat okay?' You panicked while rushing to look around, ignoring how you spent the last few years loathing her to hide your heartbreak.

You were an avenger since the beginning. The two of you were on the same team during the airport fight which wasn't surprising due to your history together. Despite the slight age difference between the two of you, your personalities worked well together which is why you got along well, so well in fact that those platonic feelings you thought you had for her developed into something more and somehow you found yourself in her bed many times in her arms with your bodies pressed against one another's, struggling to catch your breath, bliss written all over your face. Your legs were intertwined with hers as you embraced the warmth radiating off her. You refused to acknowledge the unspoken tension in the atmosphere due to the fear of speaking out about your feelings and end up ruining what you had. You couldn't help but let the insecurities build up as you gently caressed her cheek, her eyes met yours back in adoration, full of what could've been love.

But you knew she once looked at him in the same way.

"I love holding you in my arms моя любовь." She muttered, as she stroked your hair gently, you hummed in response, not trusting your own voice. What you both had felt right, you didn't want to ruin it, you didn't want to label what you had together due to the job you both have. Being an avenger doesn't exactly mean stability, anything could happen.

You remember the panic you felt when Ultron took her, the chance of losing her filled you with dread, but you also had faith. You knew how strong Natasha was. Your faith gave you strength and it kept you alive, Nat admired that about you.

The two of you fit together well, whether it was on the field or outside of the field. You could predict each other's moves and although telepathy isn't either of your powers, you know what the other was thinking. You made her better. You helped her wipe out the red in her ledger and when everyone's files was exposed to the globe you were right there by her side comforting her as she feared the reaction from everyone. You were there for her when nobody was and you stood by her side no matter what. Those feelings were reciprocated, you knew Natasha would've done anything for you.

She would even sacrifice herself for the possibility of you coming back.

Then the Accords happened and Nat betrayed the Accords, ending up on the run with Steve, Sam, Wanda and Vision. You were left alone at the compound with an injured Rhodey.

"How could you do this?" You spat out, voice full of hatred as you watched Natasha let Steve and Bucky get away. Your pistol shook in the palm of your hands, pointed directly at Natasha who lowered her own onto the ground, allowing herself to be defenceless.

"It's not that easy моя любовь, you out of all people should understand that." She explained, and you scoffed in response. The pet-name which once caused a flutter in your stomach now fuelling the fire that's building up. All the insecurities you felt during your relationship suddenly turned to hatred. You should've expected this, you should've expected that after all this time she would've chosen Steve over you.

"I guess you'll never change." You responded flatly, admitting defeat. You silently walked passed her and climbed out of the rubble that was created, allowing a wall to be in between the two of you not knowing you tore a piece of her heart as you did so.

That was two years ago.

You thought you'd never have to see her for a long time. You hoped you wouldn't have to see her. Clearly things never go the way you wanted it to go as you found yourself staring back at the person who once owned your heart.

"Well, you guys look like crap." Rhodey teased, wrapping the fellow avengers in his arms as you stood to the side, awkwardly watching the scene in front of you while fidgeting with your fingers. The atmosphere in the compound was comforting, it's been a long time since you've heard so much laughter in one room despite the war that's brewing.

Natasha, who was now blonde but as gorgeous as ever, hesitantly approached you. The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to make the next move.

"Romanoff." You nodded, greeting her before moving away to greet the other Avengers, missing the way she muttered the now bittersweet name she specifically picked you.

"моя любовь..."

Did she really love you? Or was it just for revenge? You believed that love blinded you, you managed to convince yourself that your love wasn't enough for her and that's why she left you. Your relationship with her died. It was over. You thought you buried it all, all your feelings. But you were wrong, when your eyes met her green eyes all those feelings came back to life, flowing through your veins.

After all this time you still loved her.

But your feelings for her weren't the only thing you couldn't bury.

Within an hour of reuniting with the Avengers, the team found themselves on the quinjet travelling to Wakanda. You wouldn't have said this out loud but you had faith that everything would be okay, Nat was finally by your side after all these years.

You felt as though nothing could go wrong.

That was a couple hours ago you estimated, you glance at Wanda who appeared a couple feet away from you the tears were evident on her face.

"Where is he?" Wanda cries out, clenching her fists, you saw the scarlet red energy glowing around her. You knew she must've been talking about Vsision who should've been on the ground next to her. "Wha- why does everything look different?" You realised, noticing the damages caused by the battle has disappeared. The grass was greener as ever. The corpses of the creatures you fought were no longer on the ground.

It looked as though the battle never took place.

You ran over to Wanda, helping her up from the ground when you hear someone call your name out. "That sounds like Sam." Wanda points out as the two of you held each other up.

"Wanda!" Sam called out.

"Come on, we gotta go! They need us! The fights not over yet!" He shouts from a distance, the two of you made your way to the direction you heard his voice come from, you saw all the superheroes surrounding him and a man in a red cloak. "What about Nat? Or Rhodey?" You questioned, looking for them in the crowd. You missed the sympathetic glance the man shot you before waving his hands up in the air, creating a yellow ring in the air that transformed into a portal.

"We're going to fight beside them right now." Sam confirms before flying through the portal.

The compound was completely destroyed. Your home was crumbling apart. Thor looked completely different, Tony had grey hair and Natasha was nowhere to be seen.

You wanted to finally tell her, tell her that you loved her with all of your heart.

You fought beside hundreds of Avengers that day, but you couldn't help searching for one specific Avenger. You ran over to Clint who was on the ground struggling to fight off a bunch of creatures, saving him within moments.

"Thanks kid." He pant, out of breath from all of the fighting. You smiled at him in response, reaching your hand out for him to take which he gratefully took, lifting himself up. "Have you bumped into Nat on the battlefield yet?" You asked, hopeful. There were hundreds of people fighting so you didn't expect to find her easily. The smile on Clint's face fell.

In that moment he relieved everything that happened moments ago. Flying to Vormir with Natasha, climbing the cliff with her, reminiscing about Budapest. And the way he witnessed her body hit the ground, the crack echoing so loudly he managed to hear it more than just once. He glanced down the cliff and saw her lifeless body faced towards his.

His closest friend. The person he trusted with his entire life. The person he named his son after. The Godmother of his kids.

Gone.

Just like that.

"I need to do this for her Clint, she's моя любовь." Nat whispered to him before smiling back at the oldest friend she had, pushing away from the cliff and inevitably falling to her death.

You found out what happened to Natasha, hours after.

The Avengers won, but at the cost of the lives of the people you cared the most about, the person you'd do anything for and the person who owned your heart the minute you met them. Clint broke the news to you, he felt as though you deserved to hear it from him.

"She loved you till the very end." He finished after explaining what happened on Vormir. You felt as though you couldn't breathe, like your soul was crushed and pulled away from you.

Natasha Romanoff was dead and there was nothing you could do about it.

She never got to hear that you felt the same towards her.

"I didn't think the ending to be so soon." You struggled to hold back a sob, holding the letter Clint gave you tightly in your arms. Scott somehow found a letter on the ground while trying to save Clint, it was slightly damp and covered in mud. But it was written for you in Natasha's handwriting.

You couldn't bring yourself to read the letter even nine days after the blip. You had to live in a world without her, a world where people drag her name through the mud even though she is the reason they're still standing. You adjust to a world without Natasha Romanoff and reading a letter she wrote for you months ago wouldn't help.

You regretted everything. You regret spending those last few years in anger, you should've stayed with her, you could've told her how much she meant to you. You could've told her you loved her, you could've held her in your arms once more. You would do anything to have her in your arms once again.

Sometimes it felt as though she was still there, laughing at something she saw on the TV. You always felt her presence around you after she passed away, it felt as though she never died. It felt as though a part of her lives through you.

You sat in the passenger seat of Wanda's car, staring at the Sword logo plastered on the side of the building, you could feel the letter in your back pocket, dying to be read. Wanda made her way back to the car, face flared in anger, tears threatening to spill.

"Wanda?" You called out as she got into the car, turning on the ignition but not pulling out of the car park. She sniffled quietly, wiping her eyes before glancing back to you. "I saw him." She responded, her eyes glancing to the folded paper on the backseat of the car, she could see the faint colour of red that was in the shape of a heart. "But they're not letting him have a funeral." You realised, looking back at your friend, heartbroken. "I figured at least one of them deserved a funeral, it's not fair. It's not fair that the world can just go on like nothing happened and we don't get to mourn the people we lost." Wanda rants, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to drive.

"They both deserve a funeral." You agreed solemnly, remembering the fact that Natasha's body is at the bottom of a cliff in space in 2014.

"Where are we going now?" You asked, wanting to distract yourself from that thought. You felt as though you and Wanda were left to mourn your loved ones alone as the rest of the avengers scattered across the country.

"To the only thing I have left of him."

The two of you sat in silence as Wanda drove, you stared at the shrubbery outside the window before closing your eyes and resting your head on the window, allowing yourself to drift off.

It felt like it was only seconds later when you felt the car turn harshly, you opened your eyes and glanced around in confusion when you saw that you pulled into a quaint town, you had only just missed the town sign plastered with the words "West View." You watched the pedestrians walking by, noticing how some of them sat on their own with no one to comfort them similarly to you and Wanda.

The two of you pulled up to a plot of land with the foundation of a house on the ground, it looked at though the house never had the chance to get completed.

"Stay in the car, I won't take long." Wanda reassured you before reaching towards the back of the car to grab the folded up sheet of paper and getting out of the car. You nodded, staring at the built house next to the plot of land.

Your mind wanders as you stare at the home. You think about Natasha. You think about the future you could've had with her, living together in a quaint home like the one in front of you. No stress about being an avenger, just the two of you and your family. You softly smile as you imagine Natasha's reaction to wanting to adopt 5 cats, knowing she was more of cat person. You imagine holding her hand while walking down the street and watching movies with her in your shared bed. You wanting to stay in for the day and watch movies to ignore the real world outside and her letting you.

You think about what could've been.

A heart wrenching scream snaps you out of your thoughts, you rush out of the car and look for Wanda but is blinded by a scarlet red light that knocks you unconscious.

Your eyes open on command.

The room you stood in was black and white. It was a nicely decorated living room with a dining room connected to it, you couldn't pinpoint which decade the interior was from, too preoccupied by the woman standing in front of you.

Although the lack of colour in them, you could recognise those eyes from anywhere, that smile that you've wished to see was right in front of you. The dress she wore matched the decade and decor of the room, her hair curled up neatly. Natasha stood in front of you, reaching her hand out towards you waiting for you to take it.

You hesitantly reach out towards her, happiness flooding your emotions. She pulls you closer to her, welcoming you into a hug. The palm of her hands are warm as they rested on your back, you could feel her heartbeat as you laid your head on her chest, melting in her arms.

"Welcome home моя любовь."

[shoichee]

omg cngrts on 100!!!! <3 u deserve it!!!! hii how are you??? ahaha hows genshin going for you?? also for ur milstone event, can i request kise ryota with prompt 19 or 20, i cant decide between the two, so ill leaave it to you!! <3 i hope youre doing well 💖💖💖💖

dhfiuseyghieaugh tysm ily reeeeee <33 been playing genshin nonstop to keep my sanity from my uni papers SEND HELP

Kise x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 2851

prompt list here

Note: we need more manga Kise, i repeat, we need more asshole Kise

»»—————　☼　—————««

How could this happen? How could he, the veteran of receiving female attention, be so careless?

He only saw you as an intrigue. A challenge. Perhaps a friend at the very most.

How did this happen?

Kise slightly grits his teeth before he quickly exhales, bringing his hand to rub out the tension in his neck. His mood had not gone unnoticed by his fans around him.

Ah, shit.

“Ryōta!” one called out, her tone dripped in saccharine. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you been pushing yourself lately?” another one chimes in.

“I can come with you to the infirmary… surely you’d have trouble!—”

“Move—I asked first!”

“H-hey! Quit being so snappy—!”

“Stop.”

He instinctively sends a glare at the mob out of irritation but then stops himself to quickly etch a sweet smile of his own for them. No matter how much he hears these words of concern, he hears nothing but empty wind. Hanging around girls was supposed to be a fun pastime. A challenge. Nowadays, his mind doesn’t bother to register any of their names, their faces. All their voices that come out of their mouth have become constantly replayed recaps; their chatters have become equivalent to those of flocking pigeons. “Don’t worry, everyone! Basketball practice has just been tough, is all. You’re all so kind to worry for my health, though! Thank you!”

Squeals rang throughout the courtyard as they hung onto his every word. Predictable.

As he firmly separates himself away from the group and leaves off with a cheerful facade, he quickly turns around to make a break with a brisk walk. Where to, exactly? He doesn’t know, but anywhere that didn’t have people around would be godsend.

His mind always returns back to you. You, who he thought would be the cure to his social life, just as Aomine and Kuroko were to his life of sports. You, who respected his personal space. You, whom he had meaningful conversations with during breaks sometimes. You, who he felt like he can drop his facades around recently and just entirely be himself.

As cruel as it was, he once challenged himself to make you fall for him. A sick, twisted game that would cure his boredom and give him something to look forward to other than practice. Something to keep him on his toes throughout the beginning of high school. You, who wasn’t honestly that special, other than the fact you treated him differently, unlike other people. Hell, even the adults are wrapped around his finger. What’s not making you fall head over heels for him? His curiosity continues to grow exponentially the more he spends time with you; never once did it get satiated.

Was it his ego that you bruised up? Was it his competitiveness kicking in at the thought of experiencing a type of “defeat?” Was it the unsaid uncertainty in his heart that is currently panicking of the thought of entering a whole new territory with new emotions and thoughts?

There is nothing special about you. You were only a challenge. There is nothing special about you. Once he figures you out, your game, you would just be like everyone els—

“Ow!”

“Ah, sorry! My bad, my bad! Are you alright? I’ve been a tad dizzy lately, here let me help you, oh…” As he rambles in a slight fluster, he immediately jumps back into his chivalrous side, immediately clasping a hand to help them up. Expecting to see another faceless individual, his eyes widened when his mind registered a pair of eyes staring inquisitively at him. Your eyes.

“Are you the same Ryōta I know?” you stifle a laugh. “Since when were you so quick to ever help me out without complaining my ear off?” When they say his first name, it has always sounded off, sickening even. He still could not comprehend why he, despite hating the sound of his first name rolling off of people’s tongues, insisted on you using his first name. Strangely, whenever you call him out so sincerely, he couldn’t help but always jerk back in genuine surprise at how… nice it felt.

He only let you use his first name to force a sense of closeness. This was only to accelerate the forming of a bond between the two of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more than a challenge. Nothing more than an asset to accomplish it.

But every time he has had these thoughts lately, his heart spiked with painful palpitations.

How did this happen?

His swirling thoughts halt when he feels your hand against his forehead. “You said you were dizzy earlier, right?” you said worriedly. “You don’t seem sick… have you been eating properly?”

You were tippy-toeing to try to reach his height, one hand grasping his shoulder for support while the other was feeling his temperature. And oh, you were so close.

This was a game you were playing, too, right? You must’ve known this entanglement was all just a challenge and you wanted to play along for the fun of it, right? But these thoughts quickly cease as you separate yourself from him to give him the usual physical distance.

What sort of game were you playing? Tug-of-war? Cat-and-mouse chase? Two can play at that game.

“Hey…” he looms over your figure, leaning closer to your face. “Maybe you’re the one making me dizzy, after all?” His sharp eyes search for any subtle signs you give off: your facial expressions, body language, your reactions.

“What?” Your eyes widen at his abrupt advance, worried eyes quickly turning into one of confusion as you scan Kise’s face for any other subtle signs of his own.

There was no way you could have good intentions. There was no way you could have genuine concern for him. There was no way you would be hanging around with him, unless you had some ulterior motives of your own.

After all, he chose to get to know you for the most selfish reason. How could he ever bring himself to tell you that this precarious friendship you two shared was built on the premise of deceit on his end?

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to see your reaction.” And with that, he ruffles your hair playfully before he continues to walk to his intended destination of the school infirmary.

“You’re definitely sick!” you call out, rushing to catch up to him. “You’re acting really strange!...” Your voice—he wishes he could tune it out just as easily as the rest, but you were right… he was acting strange. He couldn’t believe he can distinguish your features from amidst a sea of people. Your voice amidst a clutter of noises. Your warmth amidst all the sunlight, clothing, and body heat he’s ever felt. The same warmth encapsulating his own hand.

What sort of game were you playing?

“Here! Follow me,” you said, tugging his hand forward as you take the initiative to lead him. “If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be walking around alone. What if you collapse?”

What sort of game were you playing?... Was having the most scrunched-up brows and worried eyes part of the rules? He tightens his lips into a thin line at the sensation of his heartbeats again.

As you tug along his hand and lead him down the hallway, his mind drifts to the moments you two have shared for the past few weeks. When you bumped into him and succinctly apologized before excusing yourself… when he approached you constantly every chance he got during breaks to figure you out… when he saw you efficiently defending yourself against his dedicated fans… when you first approached him after he exited the lockers to congratulate him on a home game win before you turned to Kasamatsu to talk of club affairs with the council… when he first heard you actively cheering his name on the stands… when you inopportunely saw him weeping about Kaijo’s loss at the Winter Cup and successfully comforted him…

With each progression in his thoughts, his hand suddenly feels warmer against yours, his heart rate thumping faster, his eyes growing more out of focus as he gazes at your back, and then your intertwined hands. Maybe he really is sick.

“Are you alright?” you asked, turning to face him as you both keep walking. “We’re just about here.”

He says nothing as he keeps his face straight ahead. He doesn't trust himself to keep it together after that slipup with his fans; messing up in front of you would be certainly disastrous.

“Is there anyone here?” you softly called out, tentatively sliding the doors open. There was no one, but they were probably on a lunch break before coming back soon. He hears you sigh before you tug him in completely into the room. “Sit here, and I’ll look for some ice packs, at least… I don’t know if that would work, though…”

As you let go of his hand to try to rummage through the drawers, his hand instinctively holds you tighter.

Shit.

“Ryōta?...” you said. “Do you wanna lay down instead, I’ll look for something for you to—”

“... (y/n)-cchi, stay here.”

Shit. Kasamatsu was right: he needs to learn how to shut his godamn mouth.

“Ryōta,” you shyly mumble. “That was the first time you addressed me with -cchi at the end. Don’t you only use it with your old teammates?”

Shit… shit, shit, shit.

He can’t slip up, and he’s fucking up three times in a row? He’s losing his edge. There’s no way he’ll lose now… not when he’s come so far.

“... Do you know what you’re doing?” he exhales, dropping your hand to run his hands through his locks. “You’re driving me insane…”

“Me?”

“What games are you playing here, I swear to god—there’s no reason for you to care this much for me like this—”

“I do have a reason,” you replied, averting your eyes to feign looking for those ice packs. There you go again, acting coy… that’s what he chants to himself anyways.

“Wha?~ You’re keeping secrets from your friend, already?” he coos, trying to gain back the momentum. Yes, that’s right…you are only considered a friend. “It’s kind of cruel to bring it up but then decide to not divulge them, y’know?”

“It doesn’t take much human decency to worry and care for another,” you smile. “Even more so for a friend.”

You finally turn away to continue hunting for anything useful in the cabinets, while Kise silently watches you from his chair. Silence settles between the two of you.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking,” you start, handing him a glass of water, a wet towel, and ice packs. “I don’t want for us… to be friends anymore.”

It took his entire self control to not jump from his chair to grab you and interrogate you into oblivion. But why? Did you realize his true intentions? Did you hate his guts after all? Did you accomplish your own objectives and deem this friendship no longer useful?

Why does he even care about any of this?

“You’re… joking, right?”

He really expected for you to burst into laughter and call it a prank or tease him about his unfiltered reaction at your words, but your eyes have now become determined and very serious.

You weren’t joking.

“Ryōta, I’ll just get this out of the way first things first, but I know that you only see me as some type of trophy to go after… for a while now.”

How did this happen?

“It’s just the way you look at me sometimes seems off,” you said. “It’s not obvious to others, but we’ve spent almost every day with each other for a while, so I’ve kinda noticed… Honestly, that only solidified my initial impressions of you being a complete asshole.”

Why does his heart feel like it’s going to shatter?

“But…” you continued. “Recently, you were just… different. You were still stupid, sure. But you’ve laughed so much more and supported me when I needed it most. I’ve never laughed this hard until I met you—you make me wheeze out the ugliest laughs, as I’m ashamed to admit. But I want to be able to support you too… like, it feels that this whole thing you’re trying to put up when you meet with other people… it must be exhausting, right? I know you first acted that way with me. I can understand and kind of relate to that, so you can always talk to me alone if you need an ear.”

“Why are you telling me that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” Kise flatly asks. “You’re clearly correct about everything about me. You could’ve just left a long while ago. Did you have to pretend to care, too? Go ahead, aren’t you going to gossip about this to everyone?”

“What? No! I’m not done talking yet, idiot! I wasn’t pretending anything! Can you just stop projecting yourself onto me and listen up? Even though you’re such an asshole sometimes, er—all the time, the time we spent together has grown to be genuine, and I know you felt it too!... so well, I know you’ve heard these words so many times from other people, but…

I like you. That’s why I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. But I know you don’t reciprocate these back, so I just wanna tell you to get it off my chest… that’s all.”

He is absolutely stunned.

You’ve confessed to him, didn’t you? He got what he wanted. He won his little challenge. But why doesn’t he feel the adrenaline, the excitement, of it all like he normally would? His heart beated painfully erratically like how his team suffered a bittersweet loss at the games. Especially when you turned away to leave after you gauged his silence as rejection.

“(y/n)-cchi! W-wait!” He fumbles to grab for the warmth of your hand again. “You just confessed, right? Don’t you have to hear what I say?”

You simply shrug in response, but nonetheless, you turned back around to face him and await his response.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to pull you into a tight embrace and put his head on your shoulder. He pours his innermost thoughts and his emotions out, your shoulder slightly muffling his words, but you still understand everything he had spilled. He finally apologizes for everything he’s done, reassuring you that you don’t have to forgive him, though you kept telling him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. He finally breaks away from you and hangs his head low and exhales. He finally lifts his head to make eye contact with you. His eyes burn with intensity and the usual confidence he bears, although you note the tinge of nervousness behind his pupils.

How did this happen? How did he ever grow so attached to you? And since when did he grow mature enough to concede his defeat?

“I think I’m in love with you…” His words trail off, and his confidence disintegrates away when he realizes that he is no longer the receiving end of a confession.

… and that scares… the crap out of me.”

“You think you’re in love with me?” You stare at him incredulously. Kise squirms uncomfortably under your scrutiny. He’ll admit it, it was the lamest reply anyone could’ve given. You honestly deserved better.

His thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly guffawed and slapped your hands to your mouth to try to stifle your hysteria.

“Hey! I spilled my entire heart to you, don’t just laugh… damnit, hey! It’s not that funny!...” he protests, but after unsuccessfully trying to get you to stop snickering, he sulks back into his chair and huffs with the reddest face.

“Ah… A+ for honesty, at least,” you breathed out. “I thought you were gonna be eloquent about this, since you’re used to this sorta stuff and all…”

“Shut it.”

Kise buries his head into his hands, but you gently pry them off in an attempt to see his embarrassed state.

“Were you really actually sick, though?~”

“Shut uuuup, alreadyyy.”

“I inherited this personality from you, y’know.”

Huh, it seems that you really do know how to be coy, after all.

“Can you two please see yourselves out? The infirmary is not a place to hold your secret rendezvous, especially with this inappropriate behavior.”

“(y/n)-cchi, run!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!”

In a hurry, Kise grabs hold of your hand and makes a break out the door, dragging you behind with the school nurse trailing far behind. Even if he suffered a loss once again, he still won the complete monopoly of you and your genuine care and warmth for him.

Was it really a loss, though? He doesn’t think much of it now that his head feels clear when he shares these moments with you.

He supposes he misjudged you when you were truly special after all. Déjà vu just hits him like a truck when he fondly thinks about his ex-mentor Kuroko, and how similar you are to him.

[the-void-i-scream-into]

White Tulips - a JunJin fanfic 3/3

Full Story: Part 1, Part 2

Hey my beautiful readers. Thank you so much for sticking around till now. I was honestly so terrified of posting this fanfic because I had never done that before but everyone’s response has been so kind to me. Thank you.

This is the final part. I hope you all enjoyed the story. As always, this chapter is dedicated to the Shooters GC who are the best people on Tumblr.

Quick Info: The songs used in this chapter are You Were Beautiful by Day6. Park Yoona who plays Sujin said in an interview that she liked Day6, specifically this song. Haru by Royal Pirates is a personal favorite of mine. It has the same theme as True Beauty that in real love, things like looks don’t matter. The final song that Seojun sings to Sujin is Half Moon by Dean. Hwang In Yeop who plays Seojun stated that he liked this song in an interview.

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Romantic Trope: Haters to friends to lovers

Word Count: 16.2k [this one is LONG]

Rating: T

PART 3

i.

“What have I done?” Sujin pulled at her hair in frustration.

The deal she had made with Han Seojun had been the on account of the many shots of soju she had taken. It was only when she had sobered up the next morning that she realized, with horror, just what exactly she had promised.

It was a bad idea. On paper it sounded plausible; two people suffering from the same pain could empathize with each other. But in reality, going through a heartbreak meant that you needed someone to support you, not the other way around. Trying to support someone whilst being in pain yourself was hard. And in this particular case, it would be impossible. Mainly because the people Kang Sujin and Han Seojun liked were with each other.  

Sujin could see her and Han Seojun’s fledgling friendship going up in flames before it had even had a chance to fly. She would always want to talk about Lee Suho and he would resent that since Suho was the one dating Jukyung. Seojun would want to talk about Jukyung and Sujin would find that annoying for the same reason.

It was a recipe for disaster.

“Yah, gimme your number.” Sujin had demanded last night, handing Han Seojun her phone after he had agreed to her stupid proposal. Seojun had obediently entered his number at her behest. She programmed her number in his phone as well.

“There. Now we can text each other if we ever need to talk.”

“Ya, why am I Gangster in your phone?” Seojun had protested when he had saw her type it out.

Sujin had chuckled, drunk on soju. “Because you’re a gangster, you gangster.”

“Is that so?” Seojun proceeded to type away furiously into his phone. He held it up for Sujin to see.

“Princess? Are we kindergarteners?” Sujin had frowned.

Seojun stuck his tongue out. “That’s what you get for naming me Gangster.”

Sujin had retaliated, editing his contact. “Here!” She held up her phone.

“Wha-What? Twerp?”

Sujin blanked on the argument that had proceeded after this but she knew they did argue. To the point that the owner of the tent bar kicked them out. 

Now Sujin was stuck with the contact named as Twerp on her phone and she had no idea what to do with it. Should she text him? Should she delete it? Should she just pretend last night didn’t happen?

She knew she should choose the third option. Or even the second. But her hand itched to send Seojun a text and see if he really was up for hanging out.

All day long Sujin kept checking her phone, looking for any new messages or missed calls she may have received. All she got were some memes from Suah and everyone else’s responses to those messages on their group chat. Han Seojun had also responded with a laughing emoji. Which meant he wasn’t too body or occupied to text Sujin.

Then why wasn’t he texting her?

Why do I care?

Sujin knew why. It was because she had no body else to talk to about what was bothering her. Normally, she would have called Jukyung but this time, she couldn’t. Jukyung’s giant engagement ring kept flashing in her mind over and over. It even plagued her dreams last night.

Sujin needed to occupy herself. Her current jobless situation wasn’t helping things either. She quickly fired a text to Suah to see if she was free to hang.

Sorry Kang Su! Me and Taehoon are going to visit his parents. Suah had replied.

Sujin looked at her list of contacts. There was no one else but Han Seojun who she could ask. Reluctantly, she texted him.

I’m going to the batting cages. Wanna join me?

Sujin pressed send before she could stop herself and was immediately filled with deep regret she saw the “Seen” check appear.

One minute, two minute, fifteen minutes passed. He didn’t reply.

“Guess he wasn’t interested.” Sujin lamented. It would have been nice to have someone to hang with, but given the obvious rejection, she had to make do with just lonesome herself.

Kang Sujin wasn’t exactly a prodigy at sports, but she was considerably better than most. Batting happened to be one of her strong suits.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

She hit each ball with graceful ease. Her brows were furrowed in focus. Her breathing controlled and steady. Sujin had learned long ago that sports aided in dealing with her rage and frustrations. It was a way to release all of her worries in a healthy manner and channel inner peace.

Thwack! Thwack!

She hit again and again, not caring about the score, just wanting to get the shot.

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Huh?” Sujin carelessly turned and her surprise at finding Han Seojun standing in the adjacent batting area was only thwarted by the ball hitting her in the torso. She yelped in pain.

“Oh, gwenchana?” Seojun asked in concern.

“Aish.” Sujin held her side and moved out of the way of the pitching machine. She gave Seojun a scathing look. “What are you doing here?”

“You asked to meet here didn’t you?”

“People normally respond to invitations to confirm they’re coming.” Sujin checked herself for injuries before resuming her batting position.

Seojun was quiet. “I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to meet you.”

Thwack! Sujin hit a ball. “Oh, yeah? What made you change your mind?”

Seojun picked up his bat, not responding. The pitching machine on his lane whirred to life. He hit his ball. Thwack! “Did you see the video Jukyung posted?”

“Ah-nee.” Sujin replied. Thwack!

“She posted a bridal makeup tutorial.”

Sujin missed the next ball. And the one after that. Seojun could feel her gaze on his back but didn’t dare turn. From his posture Sujin could sense hostility. Which was fine, she hadn’t invited him here to talk. She invited him here to vent. She resumed her batting.

“I scored higher than you.” Sujin informed with a grin once they were done.

“Good for you.” Han Seojun said, unimpressed.

He still seemed on edge. Sujin had tried to engage him during their small breaks between the game but all he had given her were clipped answers.

“Did you watch the entire video?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel?”

“How do you think I felt?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just hit the ball.”

Sujin didn’t know how Seojun was when they had parted, but she herself felt significantly better. She went home with a peaceful mind and even discovered that she had gotten a call from a prospective employer. They asked if she could come in for an interview the following week. Perhaps things would be getting better from now on.

Or perhaps not.

The interview had gone horribly wrong, especially after the interviewer realized who she was. Sujin had expected a polite rejection but instead the interviewer had decided that she deserved a lecture on bullying from him.

“You know. I was bullied too as a kid.” The interviewer had said.

The experience had left her shaken. Was this going to be her life from now on? Would she just be kicked out of society just like that, over a badly reported gossip article?

Sujin’s hands ached to be washed but she refused to even think about it. She needed an outlet and she knew exactly what she wanted. It was then that she got a text from Han Seojun.

Let’s meet.

Sujin told him where to show up.

“You know jujitsu?” Seojun was surprised when she had invited him for a match.

“Don’t you?” Sujin said, clad in her white Gi. She had been warming up when Seojun had arrived clad in jeans and a hoodie. He had a cap on underneath the hood.

“I don’t fight with girls.”

“And what if a girl fights with you?”

Seojun chuckled incredulously.

“If you can laugh like that then you can show me what you’ve got, no? Or are you afraid you’ll lose like you lost in the batting cages.”

“That wasn’t a competition.”

Sujin smirked, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Seojun rolled his eyes and went to change out of his clothes.

Smack! Down Han Seojun went. He had gone easy on Kang Sujin for the first round because she was a girl. But she had immediately disarmed him and thrown him over her shoulder. Grinning like a wolf, she immediately took the fighting position again, leaving Han Seojun to recover on the floor.

“First one doesn’t count!” He argued.

“What’s wrong, Han Seojun? Can’t even fight against a girl?”

Seojun got up, “Alright. I won’t be going easy on you anymore.”

“Fine by me.”

Sujin attacked first, Seojun quickly blocked her, wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to push her down. She wrapped her legs around him and swiveled him around so that he fell. Then she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling at his arm.

“You fight without strategy.” Sujin said through clenched teeth as she tried to keep him down. Seojun managed to turn her entire body over, releasing himself.

“Fighting is about instinct. Not strategies.” Seojun went for the attack this time. Sujin blocked him but he easily maneuvered around her, throwing her down and pinning her in place with all his strength. It was an awkward position to be in, but he didn’t care. He would not let her win.

“Anything without a strategy is doomed to fail.” She grabbed his collar and adjusted her leg to flip them over. Now she was keeping him down.

“Nope. Instincts always win.” He weaseled out of her grip and they parted.

Sujin took fighting position again. She easily jabbed and smacked him around while Seojun blocked haphazardly. She was precise and focused, knowing exactly where to hit and how.

In her mind, she wasn’t fighting with Han Seojun. She was fighting with her interviewer. She jabbed and blocked and kicked the man who had sat and judged her without even hearing her side of the story. It was cathartic to let this all out. And if Han Seojun got hurt in the way, then she didn’t mind.

Sujin and Seojun fought for a long time, both sweating and panting with exhaustion but neither relenting.

“I’m still winning Han Seojun.” Sujin said with labored breath.

“We’re not done yet.”

Smack! Down Han Seojun went. Again, and again, and again.

“Had enough?” Sujin asked as they parted.

“Never.”

Seojun attacked. Sujin easily blocked it, kicking him in the chest. The mat was slick with their sweat. Sujin didn’t see Seojun slip and fall to his knees. She only spun around to deliver a roundhouse kick to his torso. But the kick would have hit him in the face. Except, except Han Seojun caught her ankle just in time. The force of it nearly knocked him down.

“I can’t let you hit my face.” He said with a half smirk.

“Wae?” She asked with a flick of her brow.

“It’s a precious commodity.”

He pulled Sujin by her ankle, bringing her leg to his side. She fell on him, using his shoulders to brace herself. Their noses were almost touching. He cupped her calf and grabbed her sleeve to hold her in place.

It was too close. Sujin’s mind went blank. And that was the opening Seojun needed to throw her down.

“I won that round.” He grinned, standing up.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still ahead.” Sujin’s face still felt hot. She got up and straightened her Gi. “I think that’s enough for today.”

Seojun nodded. “You hungry?” He asked. After the workout she had just had, she was ravenous.

They went to a nearby convenience store where they got ramen. Seojun watched in surprise as Sujin hungrily chowed down.

“What?” Sujin asked.

“You are a very unexpected girl, Kang Sujin.” Seojun took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair.

Sujin smiled and stirred her ramen. “So, what happened this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you ask to see me today? Did Jukyung post another video?”

Seojun hesitated. “Last time… I was in a bad mood. But you seemed like you wanted to talk.”

Sujin gave a slow smile. “What? You felt guilty?”

“Yes.” Seojun said unabashedly.

“You know we don’t have to talk. Maybe we can just keep each other company.”

“Sure. That seems fine.” Seojun looked at her critically. “But something was bothering you today.”

Sujin bit her cheek. “I had an interview today.”

“Didn’t go well.” It wasn’t a question.

Sujin told him, about how her interviewer treated her. About how she feared she may never get a job again.

“Ah-nee, how can people be so ridiculous? You already settled the matter didn’t you? Then what’s everybody’s problem?” Seojun’s outburst warmed Sujin’s heart. It felt good to talk and share. It made Sujin feel lighter. She wondered if she could return the favor.

“You didn’t tell me what you thought of Jukyung’s video.”

Seojun’s face fell. “Ah. That.” He leaned back and sighed. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah.”

Seojun’s face was a strange combination of pain and admiration. “She looked beautiful, didn’t she?”

Sujin’s voice was small. “Yeah, she did.” And Suho probably thought so too.

“They’ve been together for so long. Marriage was inevitable. But now that it’s happening… I don’t know. I just feel… honestly I don’t even know what I feel anymore.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t imagine how I’m going to attend the wedding.”

“My mom’s inviting the two over for dinner to celebrate. Imagine having to sit through that.”

“Yikes. Does your mom know how you feel?”

“Of course, she does. But Lee Suho is my best friend and she’s happy for him.”

“Well… I’m always here,” Sujin held up her phone, “just a text away. If you need me.”

“What I need right now is more food.” Seojun got up.

“Aren’t idols supposed to diet?”

“Not when they’ve had their ass kicked twelve times. You want anything?”

“Nah. I’m full.”

While Han Seojun went inside, Sujin checked her phone for any messages and emails. She had applied to a dozen non-profit companies. None of them, except the interview today, had gotten back.

“Omo. Isn’t that, that girl?” Someone said loudly.

“Yah! Shhh!”

Sujin looked up to some mean looking high schoolers gawking at her. There were three of them but the one standing in the front was clearly the leader. The girls to her side was trying to keep her quiet but unsuccessfully.

“It is! Look. Its that woman, Kang Sujin! Wah! I never thought I’d meet someone I read about online in real life.” The leader girl came forward, crossing her arms.

Sujin stood up to her full height. The girl was shorter than her, but she was undeterred. Sujin half admired her courage.

“Can I help you?” Sujin asked in a measured tone.

The leader girl stared Sujin down. “Check out her audacity. Should someone who’s hated by everyone be talking like that?” The girl spoke in banmal.

“I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So why don’t you leave?” Sujin suggested. These kids were younger than her, although by not much. They looked like seniors who might have been held back a year or two.

“Why should I leave? You leave.”

“I was here first.”

“This is my usual place. My boyfriend’s coming here to meet me.” The girl said self-assuredly.

“Then let him come. There’s enough space for the both of us.”

“I don’t think so.” The girl got right in her face. “You’re the girl who seduced our Seojun Oppa, aren’t you? Don’t you know that you almost ruined his career by doing that?”

Sujin laughed at the thought of Han Seojun being someone’s Oppa. He always seemed so childish to her.

“Oh, you think its funny to ruin someone’s career?”

Sujin tried to explain calmly, “No, no. I wasn’t—"

The girl pushed her, “Women like you are everything that’s wrong with the world!”

The old Kang Sujin would have kicked this rude girl’s ass by this point. But Sujin was trying to be a new Kang Sujin, one that didn’t hate easily. Sujin sighed. “Kid, just leave me alone.”

The girl poked her finger in Sujin’s shoulder. “And what if I don’t?”

Sujin raised a hand and the girl flinched. But Sujin only stroked her head. “Youngster, you shouldn’t be so rude to people.”

“Like you were to Lim Jukyung?” Sujin’s face hardened as the girl taunted, “What? You guys are friends now? Who would buy that bullshit? People are you are such trash. You go around flaunting your beauty, seducing our idols. Trash like you doesn’t belong here.”

“Yah, stop it!” The girl’s friends warned from behind.

“Chaeri, you’ll get into trouble.”

Chaeri didn’t listen. “Leave! I don’t want people like you here.” She told Sujin.

It was one thing to be nice. It was quite another to be weak. And Kang Sujin was anything but weak. “You want me to leave?” Sujin said. “Then make me.” Sujin stood her ground, glaring at the girl.

Chaeri smiled. “Okay.” She reached over to the half finished can of soda that Han Seojun had left on the table and poured it over Sujin.

Sujin closed her eyes to calm herself. Don’t engage Kang Sujin.

“Here you go, b****.”

Alright, screw it.

Sujin’s eyes popped open enraged. “What did you just call me? B****?” She grabbed Chaeri’s hair and pulled.

Chaeri screamed, “Yah! What are you doing?”

“I was going easy on you since you’re a teenager. But now I see you need to be taught a lesson.” Sujin kept her grip firmly on the Chaeri hair as the girl struggled to break free. “Listen carefully. Just because someone has allegedly done something wrong doesn’t mean you get to take justice in your hands. If you see something wrong, you speak up about it. If it’s happening in front of you, you stop it. But you don’t go around harassing someone without even understanding the full story, arachi? If I’m a bully, then go tell the police and have them investigate. Calling me names and bothering me only makes you another bully, not an avenger.”

Sujin let go. Chaeri ran and cowered by her friends who looked at Sujin in fear.

“Now get out of my sight. And don’t let me see you girls again.”

The girls ran away as Sujin watched. She didn’t enjoy what had just happened. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Was I too harsh?

“Remind me never to piss you off again.” Han Seojun came to stand by her.

“Mwo-ya, were you watching? How long were you here.”

“I came out when I saw you grabbing that girl’s hair.”

Sujin frowned in worry. “I wasn’t—”

“I know.” Seojun came forward, eyeing her head. “I heard the speech. Did they do this?” He pointed to her wet hair.

“Ugh. Yeah.” Sujin groaned.

“Let’s go inside. You can clean up.”

Sujin used the convenience store bathroom to wash out the soda from her hair. She dried off with some paper towels but her head looked like a mess when she was done. She tried to smoothen it down but then it stuck to her face weirdly.

In the store, Han Seojun was signing an autograph for the store clerk. “Ya, gimme that.” Sujin came up behind him and took his cap off from him, putting it on herself. Han Seojun didn’t bat an eye lash.

“Here you go.” He told the clerk.

“Thank you. My girlfriend will really appreciate it.” The clerk beamed.

The convenience store entrance rang as they exited.

“You can keep that cap.” Seojun told Sujin.

“Ah really?”

“Yah! Are you the one who harassed my girlfriend?”

Seojun and Sujin turned. The high schooler, Chaeri, was standing there with four hulking boys, all looking like miscreants with their mean faces and unkempt clothing. They seemed older than high school kids, more like college students. The girl’s friends were notably missing. It was just her and the four thugs.

“Han Seojun,” Sujin whispered, “you leave.”

“No.” He said casually, yet firmly.

“You could get into another scandal, you idiot!” Sujin hissed.

“No.”

Sujin clenched her jaw. “Listen to me, you dolt. You’ll—”

“Omo! Is that Han Seojun?” Chaeri was staring, eyes wide in wonder. “It is! Oh my God, Oppa! Is that you? Why are you here?” Chaeri’s eyes passed between Seojun and Sujin. “Oppa, are you actually dating this girl?” She asked, sounding betrayed.

“You know this guy?” Chaeri’s boyfriend asked.

“He’s Han Seojun. He’s an idol.”

“He’s not with me.” Sujin declared as she walked up to the group, putting distance between her and Seojun. “We just coincidentally met inside.” She stood resolutely with her shoulders squared, not showing an ounce of fear.

Seojun walked up and stood Sujin. “I am with her. So what? You got a problem?” He asked Chaeri.

Sujin’s face contorted in exasperation. Han Seojun, you idiot!

The boyfriend looked amused at the situation. “Aaah. I see now. You think that just because your boyfriend is a big shot idol that you can do whatever you want?”

“That’s not what happened. Your girlfriend here harassed me first.” Sujin explained coolly.

“Oppa, she’s lying.” The girl said. “I was just walking by and she started pulling my hair.” 

Sujin scoffed. “What an obvious lie. You gonna believe that?”

“I don’t see why I have to believe you.” The boyfriend replied.

“Why would I attack her without any reason?”

“Oppa, she did it because I was a fan of Han Seojun.” Chaeri looked at Seojun, “Aren’t you going to defend your fans?”

Seojun tilted his head. “My fans don’t go around harassing my friends.”

Chaeri’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Also, no real fan would damage their idol’s reputation but causing a scene like this. Don’t you know it reflects badly on me when say I have toxic fans?”

Chaeri’s face contorted in anger. Sujin gulped, “Han Seojun, shut up.”

“Oppa, you’re going to just let these people treat me this way?” Chaeri pulled at her boyfriend’s arm.

The boyfriend leaned down to Sujin, “Listen here ahjumma, you hurt my girlfriend. That action is going to come with consequences.”

Seojun grabbed the boy’s collar, pushing him away from Sujin. “You can’t call yourself a man if you threaten women like this.”

The boyfriend laughed, before he went in for the punch. Seojun dodged it and kicked the guy in the chest, sending him backwards. Chaeri squealed and jumped to the side. The other three thugs went for Seojun and Sujin.

Sujin brought one of them down with a spin kick in the face. The other two boys were on Seojun. Sujin kicked one of them away and dragged him further by his hair.

It was difficult for Sujin and Seojun to keep up. The thugs, while young, were still huge and more in number. Sujin took her time to size up her opponents, hitting and dodging accordingly.  Seojun fought in his typical instinctive manner, taking many hits but also delivering his own. 

One of the boys had Seojun backed up in the corner and by this time the boyfriend had gotten back up. Seojun didn’t see the boyfriend, but Sujin did. The boyfriend picked up a stick lying on the corner of the street by the garbage cans. Two thugs were on Seojun now, holding him back as the boyfriend raised the stick, aiming to swing it right in Seojun’s face.

In that moment, Sujin forgot all about fighting with strategy. All she could think of was saving Han Seojun. She ran into the boyfriend, taking him down with her entire body. She kicked him in the groin, causing so much pain that the boy’s face became red. Han Seojun, and the two thugs holding him back, were staring at her speechless.

“I won’t let you hit his face.” She told the boyfriend. Then, giving Seojun a sideways look she added, “It’s a hot commodity.”

Seojun took this opening to break free and kick the thugs away. Sujin swung the stick and hit one of them in the back. The last one standing decided to be smart and ran away.

Seojun and Sujin looked at each other, and the high schoolers lying on the ground, moaning in pain. They had won and it felt good. Seojun looked at something behind Sujin. She followed his line of sight and found Chaeri standing by the corner, recording everything on her phone.

Sujin walked up to her. “Give it while I’m being nice.”

“I’m recording this too you know.” Chaeri said insolently.

Sujin smiled. Then spun around to kick Chaeri, except she missed her face by an inch.

“Ah, how sad. I missed.”

Chaeri just stood, frozen in place. Seojun walked up, pulled the phone from her hand and smashed it to the ground.

“Am I going to hear about this online?” It was a rhetorical question. Said with such authority, in that deep angry baritone, that even Sujin felt intimidated.

Chaeri just shook her head.

“Good. Lets go, Kang Sujin.” Seojun led Sujin away by her arm.

“So, like I said. Remind me never to piss you off again.” Seojun repeated. Sujin chuckled. “Also…” Seojun rubbed the back of his head, “Thanks… for saving me back there.”

“Don’t mention it. After all, we have to protect his hot commodity.” Sujin teased. Instead of getting annoyed like she expected him to, Han Seojun smirked.

“You know I never said my face was a hot commodity. I only said it was a precious commodity.” Sujin stopped in her tracks as she realized he was right. But Seojun kept on walking smugly. “I guess you think I’m hot.” He called back to her.

“No way!” Sujin yelled as she ran after him. “No way!” ii.

Things had changed between Kang Sujin and Han Seojun. They were way past enmity now. In fact, Seojun couldn’t even remember the hate he used to have for her. They were also past the courteous co-existence they had sustained for a brief period where they acted polite and nice to one another which was more a sign of them being strangers than anything else.

Now Han Seojun and Kang Sujin really could say that they were friends. Hanging out together had become a weekly ritual. Almost always, it was prompted by something Jukyung or Suho did.

The night of Suho’s and Jukyung’s the engagement party, hosted by Suho’s father, they went to karaoke to sing their hearts out. As expected, Seojun was the better singer. But Sujin wasn’t exactly bad herself. Her song choices were about self-empowerment and having fun. Seojun chose soft, ballads that were clearly about Jukyung.

“One day, my songs will be on a karaoke machine too.” Seojun had wished as they had walked back home.

“And then I will sing it.” Sujin encouraged.

“And ruin it.”

Sujin punched him in the shoulder.

The time Suho and Jukyung announced their wedding on Jukyung’s channel, they went to an arcade. Of course, Sujin beat Seojun at every game.

“Ah-nee, how do you know how to play? All I ever saw you doing in school was study.”

“Just accept it, Han Seojun. I’m better than you.”

“At bragging maybe.”

The time Jukyung got drunk and went around hugging Han Seojun thinking he was Suho, they went for a drive on his bike.

Sujin had insisted that he teach her how to ride it.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Seojun remebered how terrified Jukyung had been when she first rode with him.

“Why would I be?” Sujin asked, confused.

She took to the bike quickly and soon was riding them both around the city without Seojun’s guidance.

“Not too bad, Kang Sujin.” Seojun was impressed. Sujin grinned triumphantly.

As per their agreement, the two looked out for each other when they were with the group, making sure their feelings weren’t too apparent. At the night of the engagement party, Sujin kept covering for Seojun when he didn’t participate in conversations as much as he usually did. She would answer for him or change the subject. On the same night, Seojun had been the one to sneak Sujin away when she was on the verge of breaking into tears when the couple was cutting the cake. No one had noticed the two heart broken friends that night. All eyes had been on Jukyung and Suho.

On the same night that Jukyung had gotten drunk, Han Seojun had been the one to distract Suah when she kept pushing Jukyung into dating a guy she knew from work. And on a separate occasion, when the group was out for dinner and had run into Suho’s father, Seojun had kept a firm hand on Sujin’s back when Lee Joheon spoke at length on how sad he was about her parents’ divorce.

As uncanny as it seemed, it was undeniable. Han Seojun and Kang Sujin were friends now. Oddly enough, no one seemed to have picked up on their closeness, despite the fact that they never hid it from anyone. Sujin mentioned that Seojun had taught her how to ride his bike but the statement went unnoticed for its inclusion of Han Seojun. All Suah and Jukyung cared about was how dangerous it was to drive bikes.

“Han Seojun! Stop being a bad influence on Sujin!” Jukyung had scolded.

“What did I do? She’s the one who wanted to learn. And she’s not so innocent either. Just ask her about how she beat me in jiujitsu.” Seojun had pointed a finger at her.

“You know Jiujitsu?” Suho had asked, ignoring the part about her beating Seojun.

“Yeah. We should spar sometime.”

And so things went on and Jukyung’s and Suho’s wedding date inched closer and closer. But Sujin felt nothing had really improved with her feelings about Suho.

“We should really get to the therapy part one of these days.” Sujin casually said over a cup of coffee. This time, they had opted for a quiet meeting in a café.

Seojun considered her request. “What should we talk about?”

They both drew a blank, neither able to come up with a good starting point. Their feelings were so complicated and tangled that neither knew were to start unraveling.

Sujin raised a hand, fingers spread out wide. “Five questions.” She said, and with each word she lowered a finger, “Who, What, When, Where and Why.” She said in English.

“What’s that?”

“Its how you gather basic information. You ask yourself these questions.” Sujin explained, translating in Korean, “Who is it? What is it? When was it? and Why was it?”

Seojun nodded. “Okay. You first.”

“Hmm… We can skip the Who since we already know who it is. So, what is it that I like about Lee Suho? Hmm…” Sujin had to think for a minute. 

The first thing that popped into her mind was her father. She and Suho both had troubled relationships with their fathers and at the time, Sujin had felt that Suho could understand her better because because of this. But she couldn’t tell Han Seojun that. Having a dysfunctional family made her feel like a freak. She didn’t need Han Seojun knowing about her private problems, even if they were friends. 

So instead of the truth, she said, “He was cool,”  

Seojun scoffed. “Kang Sujin were you that shallow?”

Sujin looked at him flatly. “It wasn’t just that! It was… well, he was always cold to everyone else. But he still treated me better.” Sujin looked at her hands, nervously playing with her thumbs. “I guess I liked how he was with me. And I liked that he wasn’t shallow like most boys are. ”

That answer seemed more acceptable to Seojun. “I don’t think I can distill my feelings to just a couple of traits. I like everything about Lim Jukyung. The way she smiles, the way she ties up her hair, how kind and caring she is with everyone… she just has this warmth about her that just… draws you in.”

“I know what you mean.” Sujin agreed. But there was a little part of her that resented Seojun’s compliments of Jukyung. Wasn’t she kind and caring too? Didn’t she have any warmth?

Probably not. Her father’s voice said. Sujin pushed it away.

“When did you first start liking Lee Suho?” Seojun asked.

Sujin thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I just know that when I noticed I liked him, it felt like I had always liked him.” She sat up straight. “What about you? When did you start liking Jukyung?”

After a pause he replied, “When I started to get to know her. I can’t say exactly when… But I noticed my heart would act weird after she started teasing me about my underwear--”

“Say what now? What underwear?” Sujin perked up. It was at this moment that Han Seojun knew, that he had messed up. He could feel himself get red in the face.

“It was nothing. What I meant was—”

“Nononono, no. Han Seojun, you’re not getting out of this one. Tell me. What underwear?”

Seojun crossed his arms, “I’m not saying a word.”

Their therapy session had ended there. Sujin tried again and again to get Seojun to reveal what the underwear incident was but he kept his silence. He would die before he ever told anyone about how Jukyung had seen him dancing around in his cheetah print underwear.

Han Seojun still experienced PTSD when he heard “Okey Dokey yo!” from anywhere.

iii.

Seojun didn’t know how the fight began. They had met up for dinner after Sujin got off from work. She had taken up various part time jobs to pay the bills. With her being busy throughout the day, dinner was the only time they could meet.

They had been talking about Suho and Jukyung. Seojun normally danced around the topic of what Sujin had done back in high school now that they were friends. But this time she had brought it up herself.

“Do you remember that picture I took of you?”

“Yeah.” Seojun still remembered how flatly she had said You look cool. He had almost admired her audacity back then, and he did so more now.

“I traded it to get the info on Jukyung.” She admitted quietly.

“Ah, even back then my face was such a hot commodity.” Seojun said smugly.

Sujin made a face at him.

They joked about the past, about how Han Seojun hadn’t changed since then, about how Sujin had changed so much. Then, as they walked towards Sujin’s apartment, they got into the serious stuff. About how Sujin just disappeared after the truth about her was revealed, about how Seojun was right that she had only destroyed herself, and no one else.

“I wish I hadn’t done all that. Looking back, I want to kick myself.” Sujin had said.

“You should have shared, about what you were going through. Suah and Jukyung would have understood. I mean, having your father treat you the way he did… it must have made everything harder to deal with. Looking back, I might have acted better too, even helped y--”

Seojun suddenly noticed that Sujin wasn’t with him. She had stopped in her tracks and was glaring at him but Seojun couldn’t understand why.

“W-what do you mean my father’s treatment?” Sujin asked icily, her face was unreadable.

“Well… didn’t he used to beat you and pressure you for—”

“Shut up! Just shut up, Han Seojun!” Sujin suddenly freaked out. And it scared Seojun.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with concern. He moved towards her, but she moved back.

She looked at him coldly. “Who the hell told you about this? Was it Suho? It was Suho, wasn’t it? No one else knows besides him.”

Seojun hesitated. “Actually... that time when I met your mom—”

Sujin blinked rapidly. “So you’re saying that you’ve known about this all this time?”

“Kang Sujin, calm down its not a—”

Sujin spoke through clenched teeth, “What’s not a big deal? The fact that my family is broken or the fact that my father was an abusive asshole? What exactly about it is not a big deal, Han Seojun?”

Seojun was thoroughly confused now. “Sujin-ah.” he called out to her but she kept moving back with every step he took towards her. She was shaking quite visibly.

“Did you have fun, thinking I was so tragic and damaged? Did you have fun pitying me all this time? Did you—” Sujin’s eyes went wide as if she hit a realization. “Ya Han Seojun… did you become friends with me because you pitied me?” She said the word with such acidity that Seojun flinched.

It would be a lie to say it hadn’t influenced his opinion of her. But it wasn’t the only reason they were friends. Surely Sujin had to understand that.

“Sujin-ah—”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Sujin’s lip quivered. “All this time, you’ve only treated me decently because you thought I was some tragic case—”

“You know that’s not true.” Seojun protested but Sujin wasn’t listening.

“—and here I was thinking we were actually friends. Han Seojun, would you have even been nice to me if you hadn’t known?”

“Does that matter?” Seojun asked, frustrated, “We’re friends now, aren’t we?” 

That had been the wrong thing to say. Sujin’s eyes flamed as she suddenly switched. Gone was the shaking and the freaked out look. Sujin was now very calm and cold; calculating in her movements. She gave a sarcastic smile. “Ya Han Seojun. Do you know? I pity you too.”

“What?”

“Pathetically liking someone for so long, whining like a boy over everything, acting all childish, you think that makes you attractive?”

“Ya, Kang Sujin—” Seojun warned.

“I bet Jukyung pities you too.” Sujin stalked up to Seojun. “Ah, that loser, Han Seojun, until when is he going to be hung up on me? I bet that’s what she thinks every time she sees you.”

They glared at each other for the longest time. Maybe too long.

“Kang Sujin… you are seriously messed up.” Was all Seojun said before he walked away; from Sujin and the entire situation. Sujin’s eyes filled with tears which she furiously blinked away.

If Sujin had been more like Jukyung, she would have dealt with this situation maturely. Lim Kukyung would have faced her emotions and not taken Seojun’s sympathy as pity. Lim Jukyung would have been up front about how she felt and not pushed Seojun away. Lim Jukyung would have been better.

But Kang Sujin was not Lim Jukyung. Kang Sujin was a messed up girl.

iv.

“Has anyone heard from Sujin recently?” Jukyung asked the group. They were all gathered for lunch, all except Seojun and Sujin, both of whom had been absent these past couple of get-togethers.

“Wae? Has something happened?” Suah asked.

“Not really. But she hasn’t been replying as much to my texts.” Jukyung pouted.

“You know what Kang Su is like. She’s rarely online. Plus, she’s working all these jobs now.”

“She always replies to me though,” Jukyung muttered to herself as she looked at her chat with Sujin. The one Sujin hadn’t responded to since four days.

“Is Seojun not coming today either?” Taehoon asked Suho.

“Don’t know. He’s so busy with brand practice these days that he barely replies to me.”

“Guys! Sorry I’m late!” Sujin rushed towards the group.

“Kang Su!” Jukyung and Suah welcomed her.

“We were afraid you wouldn’t show up again.” Jukyung said, putting her arm through Sujin’s.

“Kang Su-ya,” Suah said, playfully nudging Sujin’s shoulder, “you’re all dressed up. Did you just come back from a date?” Indeed Sujin was wearing a sleek black pant suit with full makeup on.

“Who went on a date?” Seojun arrived but stopped when he saw Sujin. Sujin held her breath as she waited for him to say something.

“Our Kang Su.” Suah responded. Seojun just flicked a brow but betrayed no emotion. He took a seat besides Suho.

“Ya! It wasn’t a date. I just came back from an interview.” She grinned.

“Ooh! How did it go?”

Sujin kept her silence for a second before she finally burst with excitement, “I got it!” The girls squealed at the good news. “Its at this non-profit that works with providing clean water to under-developed countries.” She showed everyone the website for the company and the work that they did on her phone.

Everyone congratulated Sujin on her accomplishment. Even Seojun gave her a “Congratulations.” To which she thanked him.

“I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think you’d come.” Suho told Seojun.

He wasn’t going to. But he had heard that Sujin hadn’t been present either and he had figured it would be okay for him to join everyone if she wasn’t there. 

She should have been an actress, Seojun thought as he watched Sujin behave like nothing was wrong.

The conversation over lunch flowed easily as it usually did. Everyone laughed, joked and shared about what had happened since they last met. No one seemed to notice that Seojun and Sujin were not speaking directly to each other, even once. They only spoke to everyone else.

It was only when Seojun was leaving the men’s room that he found Sujin waiting for him and jumped in surprise.

“Ah, ggam-jjak-ee-ya!” Seojun held his chest in shock.

“Aww, the great Han Seojun get’s scared?”

“Only when confronted by pervert girls who stalk boys outside the washrooms.”

Sujin narrowed her eyes. “Shut up! I wasn’t stalking. I was only waiting to talk to you.”

“That’s equally worrying. What do you want?” He said dismissively.

Sujin handed him a keychain. It was his own face made in cartoon form. “Here. I know how much you love seeing yourself.”

“What’s this for?”

Sujin cleared her throat. “An apology. Mianhae, Han Seojun. Last time—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He handed the keychain back to Sujin. She grabbed his arm as he tried to leave.

“At least hear me out.”

“No.” Seojun pushed her arm away.

Sujin’s lips tightened. She grabbed Seojun’s arm again, pulling him with brute strength. “Will you just listen to me you big baby! I’m trying to apologize.” She glared at him.

“Why? I thought you hated me.”

Sujin’s face softened. “I don’t hate you, Han Seojun.” She let go of his arm. “That time… when you started talking about my father, I just lost it. I haven’t actually told anybody about what he did to me. Not even Suah and Jukyung know. All they know is that he was tough on me.”

“Lee Suho knows.” Seojun accused.

“He figured it out on his own. I never actually told him. How could I?” Sujin felt ridiculous admitting it out loud, “How could I tell him that I don’t know what a happy family looks like? I see Jukyung with her dad and Suah with hers and how they have such good relationships, and I can’t imagine being the same way with my father. And that makes me feel like a freak. People already give me weird looks because of my parents’ divorce. If they knew about my father, they’d think that I was crazy… and maybe I am, who knows.”

Seojun softened. “You’re not crazy, Sujin-ah.” 

There it was, that pity on Han Seojun’s face. Sujin hated it but she had come today to this lunch only to apologize to him and that is what she was going to do.

“I am, Han Seojun. Why else would I have said all of those mean things?” Sujin’s voice shook. Seojun moved to hug her but she stepped away. Him comforting her would be too much, she would fall to pieces if he did. She had to hold herself together, on her own. “I’m sorry Han Seojun. I didn’t mean any of it. Not a single word.”

Seojun nodded. “I know.” He felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders and only then did he notice how bothered he really had been about their fight.

“You guys not coming?” Suho asked as he passed by. Seojun and Sujin straightened themselves up and joined the others.

They found the girls giggling at something on Jukyung’s phone.

“What’s funny?”

“Ya Kang Sujin, your nose looks so big in this!” Suah commented. Jukyung turned the phone to Sujin. It was the video of the live event they had done.

“Aish!” Sujin said disapprovingly. “I look so weird in this video.”

Suho and Taehoon leaned over and laughed too as Sujin robotically read off the comments in the video.

“Maybe we can go Seojun’s makeup next.” Jukyung suggested.

“I’m a celebrity, Lim Jukyung.” He said haughtily, pulling the lapels of his jacket, “You can’t just have me on any show.”

Sujin wrinkled her nose at Seojun, “This coming from a guy who didn’t even know the difference between ppt and fitting.”

“That never happened!” Seojun contested. Everyone else laughed.

“Sujin-ah. Maybe I can have you on as a guest next time.” Jukyung suggested.

“Sure.” Sujin put her arm around Jukyung and whispered audibly, “And let’s do it when Suho isn’t around.” The girls winked to each other.

Suho smacked Sujin’s hand away from Jukyung’s shoulder. “Keep your hands off my girlfriend.”

“Sure. But I can’t guarantee she’ll keep her hands off me.” Sujin grinned evilly. Suho’s wide eyed, worried, expression made Jukyung laugh.

v.

Han Seojun fell on his face for the umpteenth time as he tried to hit the ball that Sujin had served. He was lucky they were all on the beach and his face was hitting soft sand instead of concrete.

“Ya, who’s idea was it to play volleyball?” Seojun asked as he brushed himself off.

“Quit being a sore loser, Han Seo!” Sujin called from the girl’s side of the net.

“Just you watch. I will make you eat your words!”

Of course, the boys lost. Suho was too distracted by Jukyung. Taehoon played bad on purpose because Suah said she wanted to win. Chorong was a bad at playing in general. The only two people taking this seriously were Han Seojun and Kang Sujin who ran around covering up for their team mates, as if their lives depended on winning. Sujin in particular refused to let Seojun get a single goal.

“You must really hate Han Seojun, huh?” Suah asked once the game was over.

“No. I just don’t like to lose.”

“Look at her, it’s like she’s going to war.” Jukyung laughed at the fire in Sujin’s eyes.

“Did you piss Kang Sujin off?” Taehoon was asking Seojun on the other side as the boys drank water.

“Nah, she’s just like that in general.” Seojun panted, still exhausted from the game.

A crowd of girls had gathered around their little game, drawn towards Suho and Seojun playing. They had cheered the boys on during the game and now they gravitated towards the two, hoping to get a chance to talk to them.

Suho had brushed them off in his usual rude manner. Seojun had been obliging, especially when they recognized who he was. He patiently signed autographs but couldn’t take pictures since his company didn’t allow them.

“Han Seojun, we have to get back.” Suah had come over to inform him.

“Yeah, just one minute.” The fans kept coming and coming. Seojun realized that maybe he should tell them he has to go. But as much as he wanted, he couldn’t say no to the hopeful girls who had liked the music that he made and had decided his signature was worth something.

“Han Seojun hurry up! We have to move!” Jukyung called.

“Just a second!”

Suho came over and rudely pushed through the crowd of girls. “Yah! Don’t be like that to my fans.” He tried dragging Seojun away but Seojun dodged him and the girls quickly pushed him back.

“Yah! Haven’t you girls had enough?!” Sujin’s voice boomed over the crowd, terrifying everyone. “And you girls over there!” Sujin pointed, “I saw you two return twice! You’re planning on selling those autographs, aren’t you?”

“Ya Kang Sujin—” Seojun began to protest.

“Don’t piss me off.” Sujin warned, “Our trip isn’t a place for you to have fan meetings.” She grabbed Seojun’s wrist and dragged him away before he could object.

The fangirls whispered to each other angrily, but none dared stand in Sujin’s way as she took Seojun away from them.

“Mwo-ya.”

“Who is that girl?”

“What the hell?”

“Come on, I’m hungry. We should get back to the resort.” Suho said when Seojun had joined them. He and Taehoon picked up their things and loaded them in their car.

At a distance, near a food cart, stood Kim Chorong. He watched as everyone got ready to leave. He could see Suah and Jukyung clinging to their boyfriends, his own posse goofing around and Han Seojun laughing and joking with his arm around Suho.

“Did you see how all those girls swarmed around me?” Seojun asked Jukyung. “Ya, aren’t you lucky to have a guy like me as your friend?”

“What lucky? You wasted all our time!” Jukyung scolded.

“Ah, I just can’t turn off my charms.”

Sujin scoffed, pulling a disgusted face, “Where? Where are these charms?” She put her hand over her eyes and mimicked searching.

“Right here!” Seojun replied, puffing his chest. “See how charming I am!”

“As charming as a sea louse maybe.”

“Yah!” The group laughed as Seojun pointed accusingly at Sujin.

Chorong had watched as Seojun pointed at Sujin in a huff while everyone laughed. It was the liveliest that Chorong had ever seen Han Seojun be.

“Chagi, what are you doing here all alone?” Chorong’s girlfriend came up to him.

“Geunyang.” Chorong put his arm around his girlfriend and walked towards the group.

They all went back to their resort, a beautiful location that Suho had paid for as this was the first time that everyone was going together since high school. They were all given shared rooms. Naturally, Chorong shared his with Seojun.

“Han Seojun,” Chorong began as Seojun changed out of his shirt, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Huh? What for?”

“You always used to complain about hanging out with everyone, but I don’t hear you do that anymore.” Chorong said sentimentally.

Seojun blinked. “Kim Chorong did you drink too much sea water? What kind of a weird thing is that to say?”

Chorong came up and hugged the half-naked Seojun, who balked at the gesture. “What the hell?!”

“Do you know how worried I was about you?” Chorong, with his enormous size, did not notice how Han Seojun desperately struggled to break free from his grip.

“Ya! You pervert, lemme go!”

“Ah-nee, look at you now. You said you would never go on an overnight trip with Suho and Jukyung, and yet here you are.”

Seojun stopped struggling. “What?”

It was odd that out of all people, Chorong had been the one to notice. “I’m so happy for you Han Seojun. Th—”

“Han Seojun, Jukyung’s asking if you would—whatthehell?” Sujin burst in and went still when she saw a half dressed Seojun being held by a sentimental looking Chorong.

Sujin betrayed no emotion. Just wordlessly took out her phone and promptly snapped a photo.

Han Seojun tried to push Chorong away, “No! Ya! Don’t you dare!”

“Jukyung is asking if you will sing songs for us. Quickly get dressed and come over, okay?” Sujin went out and Seojun caught a glimpse of her evil smile as she did.

“Yah! Kim Chorong!” Seojun shouted as Chorong finally let him go.

Of course, Seojun would perform. He always did when Jukyung asked. The group clapped at the end of the first song but the only reaction Seojun cared for was Jukyung. As usual, he found her engrossed with Lee Suho instead of him. Seojun couldn’t help but stare at the two.

“You sounded good.” Sujin came out of nowhere, blocking his view of Jukyung. Seojun knew, she was doing it on purpose.

“Too obvious?” He asked quietly.

“Too obvious. Suah almost noticed.” Sujin moved to block Suah’s line of vision to Seojun’s face.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” Seojun said.

“Pay me back with a song then.” Sujin rolled on her heels.

“Nope. Only Jukyung gets to request songs.”

She pfft-ed through her lips, “Mwo-ya. How stingy.” She turned on her heels.

“What song?” Seojun asked. Sujin smiled and turned back.

“You Were Beautiful by Day6.”

“Why not something by my band?” Seojun sounded almost insulted.

“I like Day6 better.” Sujin teased.

“I expected better taste from you, Kang Sujin.” Seojun adjusted the tuning of his guitar, testing the chords.

“Its my goodbye.” Sujin explained. “I’m moving on from Lee Suho.”

“Haven’t I heard that before?” Seojun said skeptically.

“Its for real this time.” Sujin said. Seojun looked up at her determined face.

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. It’s been long enough now. This is my way of making it official. So do a good job, okay?” Sujin walked away.

“I bet I’ll sing it better!” Seojun called after her.

“We’ll see!”

She hadn’t looked at Suho even once during his performance. But then, she hadn’t looked at anyone, just stared out the window. By the end she was tearing up. Seojun saw Suho happen to look over at Sujin.

He’s going to see her cry.

Seojun began to play his guitar loudly and messily, “Yeppeosseo! Yeppeosseo! Neon neomu yeppeosseo!” Everyone winced as he sang, or rather shouted, at the wrong note. But the abrupt bad singing had its intended effect. Suho’s attention was on Han Seojun. It took a second for Sujin to get the message. She sat up straight and wiped her face.

“Han Seojun! Stop it!” Suah yelled and Seojun stopped. “Are you in a rock band?”

Sujin sent him a grateful smile.

“It’s a totally new style of singing. You guys don’t like?” Seojun asked.

“No!” Came the resounding response.

Sujin’s was the only voice that said. “Yes!”

Seojun pointed his guitar at Sujin, head tilted back. “Better than Day6?”

“Much better!” Sujin grinned.

vi.

“YES! I WIN! I WIN!” Seojun ran around the court, pumping his fist in the air as Kang Sujin stared with a flat face and her hands on her hips. After having lost at nearly everything to Kang Sujin, Han Seojun had finally discovered something she was bad at.

“Are you really that happy?” She said, her upper lip pulled up in disdain.

“Ya! How can someone be so bad at basketball? You didn’t score a single goal!” Seojun’s eyes were wide with pure joy, his cheeks uplifted in a wide smile.

“Stop making fun of me.” Sujin fumed. She hated losing.

“I mean, I’ve never seen anyone lose so bad!” He laughed while pointing at Sujin, relishing in her first defeat. He knew he was great at basketball, but he hadn’t expected Sujin to be that bad. Sujin looked away, puffing up her cheeks.

“Zero!” He made a circle from his finger and thumb, “You got zero! I’ve seen worse players score more on accident!”

“Ah shut up!” She stomped her foot, "I was just off my game!”

“Off your game? Wae? Was my handsome face too distracting for you?” Seojun expected Sujin to come after him with a flying kick, or a punch in the shoulder or even a pithy retort. What he didn’t expect was the deep blush that spread across her cheeks. She looked around, choosing to look anywhere but him.

“Oh my God, jinjja? You got distracted by my face?” Seojun moving to look at her face better.

“Ah-nee-godun!” Sujin yelled, dodging his gaze. “Who would get distracted by those mean eyes?”

“Oh, so it was my eyes?” Seojun purred.

“As if!”

“Ooooooh! You’re even blushing!” He teased.

“I’m red from playing!” Sujin spun around and walked away, leaving Seojun laughing.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! I know it’s not that. Come back Sujin-ah!”

They changed out of their sweaty gym clothes. Seojun was wearing his typical brown coat over black pants and a black turtle-neck sweater. He was ready before Sujin so he waited for her outside.

She came out all dolled up, her hair brushed straight, fresh makeup on her face. She had a white coat over a pretty, pale pink dress. Seojun didn’t understand why she had dressed up so brightly today. She even had heels on. Sujin had denied any special reason when he had asked before so he figured this was just a girl thing that he would never understand.

They had only walked a couple of steps when Sujin stopped in her tracks. “Ah, shit. I think I forgot my phone inside.”

“Why are you so distracted today? Where is your head, Kang Sujin?” Seojun complained. Sujin ran back inside to get her phone.

“Got it!” She came back running.

They walked over to the café that they frequented to the point where the barista recognized them now.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go to the amusement park like you wanted.” Seojun apologized.

Sujin waved a hand dismissively, “Doesn’t matter. It was just a throw away suggestion.”

“But I understand why you wanted to go there instead.”

“You do?” Sujin asked with a tinge of worry.

“Its because you didn’t want me to find out you were bad at basketball, didn’t you?” Seojun snapped his fingers.

Sujin’s face fell. She clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Sujin replied sarcastically, “Ah, you’re totally right Han Seojun. I am so immature that all I care about is winning against a guy who thought Einstein was an appliance.”

“That happened only once.” Seojun defended.

A silence fell between them as their order came. Wordlessly, Sujin drank her iced latte and Seojun sipped his iced Americano. They often had these moments where neither would speak. But it was a comfortable silence. Sometimes Seojun and Sujin just enjoyed each other’s company without feeling the need to talk.

“You know we never finished our five questions.” Sujin reminded.

“Oh wow. That feels like it was so long ago.” Seojun leaned his head back as he tried to remember. “We covered the When. Where… I don’t remember where I fell in love with Jukyung. I think it was the moment in school where she was making fun of my…” Seojun cleared his throat.

“One of these days I’ll find out what that incident was, Han Seojun.” Sujin claimed.

“But not today.” He smiled. “So yeah, I think it was in school. What about you?”

“I think it was at the tutoring centers. I used to go there to study. My father had hit me, and I was in a strange place at that time. Suho comforted me and I guess that was when I realized I liked him. Now you, why did you like Lim Jukyung?”

Seojun leaned back and thought for the longest time. “She was… unexpected. I only started to pester her because I thought she was dating Suho.”

“Yeah, I remember that pestering part.”

Ya, Han Seojun are you a gangster?! Whiplash. Every time Seojun remembered that moment he felt whiplash.

“Since I hated Suho at that time, I had expected her to be hateful too. I thought she was just some vain, mindless girl but… she was the complete opposite. She was kind and thoughtful. She had a good heart and that made her beautiful to me. With or without makeup.” Seojun paused, then suddenly chuckled.

“What?”

“It’s funny. Before, I was never able to pin down what I liked about her. My feelings always seemed so complicated. But now that I see it… it feels so obvious.”

Seojun didn’t notice Sujin looking down at her hands, nervously rubbing them together, “Seojun, do you ever think you coul—” She spoke just when Seojun did.

“What did you like about Suho—oh sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no.” Sujin shook her head. “I wasn’t saying anything. You were asking why I liked Lee Suho? Umm…” Sujin thought about it.

“Lee Suho, has never once liked a girl. Not before Jukyung, at least. There was a time when I was his only friend in school. And I thought… I misunderstood, his kindness as interest. I’ve always been pushed to get the number one position, you know? I always had to be number one. And when I thought that the guy that liked no one, liked me… it made me feel like I was number one, even if I ranked low on the grade sheet.” Sujin looked out the glass wall of the café, out on the street where people were walking, and it was slightly drizzling.

“When he found out that my father hit me, I thought he would see me as a crazy person, or pity me, or judge me for hating my father. But he never did. He only comforted me. He just… understood. And it was the first time that I felt that there was someone else who could understand me and understand what I was going through. That’s why I liked Lee Suho.”

Sujin looked back at Seojun. His mouth had shrunken into a small curve.

“But now he’s just annoying.” Sujin said in a lighter tone, “I mean, at a certain point you start hating people when they appear too perfect, isn’t that so?”

Seojun attempted a smile but it was weak.

“I’m happy now, Seojun-ah. I’m happy that I’m not with Suho. I think its for the best. If I think about it. Suho and I are too similar. We didn’t need more of the same. We needed someone who would help us change. Jukyung helped Suho do that. I could never have.”

“That’s a healthy way to look at it. Though I still think I’m perfect for Jukyung.” Seojun said smugly.

Sujin scoffed. “You think you’re perfect for every girl.”

“Where’s the lie?”

“Here! Yeogi! Here’s the lie.” Sujin tapped her finger on Seojun’s side of the table.

“Ah, Kang Sujin. You have no taste.” Seojun squinted his eyes at her in mock pity.

“And you have the IQ of a sloth.”

“I don’t need a high IQ. My greatest strength is my charm.”

“You keep mentioning this charm but I never see it.” Sujin put her hand over her eyes and began to search around.

They bickered in the café till the barista had to remind them, that they were being too loud. The banter continued as Seojun walked her all the way to her apartment. Throughout the way, Seojun could notice Sujin acting nervously; playing with the hem of her dress, combing her hair again and again, wiping her sweaty palms against her coat when she thought he wasn’t looking. He felt she had something to say to him but he didn’t want to ask what it was. If Kang Sujin had something to say, she said it.

Then, out of the blue, she swiveled on her heel to stand right in front of him.

“Ya, Han Seojun…”

“What?”

Sujin gulped. “Ah-nee-da. It’s nothing.” She turned her back to him.

“Whaaaat?” Seojun whined. “You’ve been fidgeting this while time so you definitely have something to say. What is it?”

“I forgot.” Sujin said, walking ahead, biting her lip.

“Mwo-ya…” Seojun let it go. She probably had more to say about Lee Suho and he wasn’t in any mood to hear it.

“Good night, Sujin-ah.” Seojun said when they reached her building.

“D-Do you wanna come up?” Sujin asked, stuttering a bit.

“Nah. I should go. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Chalga.” Seojun waved goodbye. He had not walked more than ten steps when Sujin called out to him.

“Han Seojun!”

“What?”

Sujin hesitated. “B-Bye!”

Seojun chuckled. “Mwo-ya. She’s so weird.”

Sujin saw him wave and then leave. “If he turns, then I’ll tell him.” She told herself, trying to work up the courage to say what she had been meaning to the entire night.

But he never turned. Seojun just kept on walking and walking till he disappeared into the crowd.

“I like you, Han Seojun.” Sujin confessed to the wind. “I like you a lot.”

vii.

Han Seojun had to be absent for the whole month due to his idol duties. Sujin was glad for his absence. It had given her time to set her head straight about her feelings. She could still vividly remember, that last time she had ever confessed to a guy and that was back in high school. She clearly recalled how Suho had looked at her with disgust when she had said, or rather declared that he would have liked her if she had confessed first.

No. I wouldn’t have.

“Aish! What was I thinking saying all of those things?” She pulled at her hair as she rolled over in her bed. The humiliation of demanding that Suho break up with Jukyung, and ridiculously saying that she would toss Jukyung aside for him was too much. On top of that, she had tried to kiss Suho and he had pushed her away, repulsed. That in and of itself made her stomach ache with embarrassment.

She had a good heart and that made her beautiful to me. With or without makeup.

“Ah out of all people why him?! Why another guy who loves Lim Jukyung?! What the hell is wrong with me?!” Sujin groaned, rolling around in her bed over and over. Was she obsessed with men who were into Jukyung? Sujin felt frustrated with herself and wanted to throw her heart out.

She just has this warmth about her that just… draws you in.

Kind, caring, genuine, warm; none of those things describe me. Good heart? A single search on the internet would reveal just how good my heart is. Betraying my best friend and ruining all of my friendships in the process… who would say I have a good heart?

Sujin couldn’t compete with the shadow cast by Lim Jukyung. Even if Seojun did start to like her, Lim Jukyung would always be his first love. And just like always, Sujin would be second.

Sujin felt a familiar jealousy creep in; a resentment, a hate, an anger. It was history repeating itself. It was Lim Jukyung again. Why? Why did it have to be her? She and Suho had ten years worth of history between them and even that couldn’t compare to how he felt for Jukyung. Sujin and Seojun had only a year worth of friendship, a quarter of which included Seojun hating her.

It was a dark feeling. A heavy feeling. Like a weight in her chest. Sujin carried it with her whereever she went. She was supposed to meet everyone today. Seojun was suppsed to be back. She felt like she would be a coward if she didn’t go. But she felt like she would hate Jukyung more if she saw her. In the end she did go, and that weight in her chest went with her.

Jukyung was outside alone when Sujin saw her. She was finishing up a call.

Why? Why did it have to be her? Whywhywhy?

Sujin stopped in her tracks. No. She thought resolutely. She would not make the same mistake again. She would not let her feelings take over her judgement. She would not lose her friend again. As much as she loved Han Seojun, she loved her friendship with Lim Jukyung even more.

“Sujin-ah! You’re here-Oh?”

Sujin enveloped Jukyung in a massive hug, almost on the verge of tears. Jukyung hugged her back, confused.

“You know I love you, right?” Sujin said.

“Dangyunhaji! I love you too.” Jukyung hugged her tighter.

“I’ll always be a good friend to you, Jukyung-ah. I promise.” Sujin sniffed.

“Oh, are you crying?”

“No, there’s just something in my eye.” Sujin quickly wiped her face while still holding Jukyung so that she wouldn’t see her cry.

But before she could part, something pulled her collar from behind.

An irritated Suho stood, still tugging at her collar, “You’re not stealing my fiancée.”

“I bet she’d prefer me to you.”

“Okay! Okay! No fighting!” Jukyung declared a ceasefire.

“Are we fighting?” Seojun came up, putting his arm casually around Suho. “If it’s a fight, my bet’s on Sujin.”

“Wae. You think she’s better than me?” Suho asked.

“She’s scarier than you.”

“You traitor.” Suho released himself from Seojun’s side hug and went inside, grumbling. Jukyung followed after him.

“What was that about?” Seojun asked Sujin.

Sujin looked at him. His delicate, boyish features, his mean looking eyes that carried a surprising warmth. Her heartbeat wildly like a hummingbird. Sujin felt like she could spend an entire day just staring at his face. And then she felt it again, the quiet darkness that reminded her that she could never be with him. Quite suddenly, Sujin spun around and kicked Han Seojun in the back.

“Yah! What was that for?!” Seojun yelled.

“For being you.” She said and walked in, leaving Seojun bruised and confused.

viii.

You were pretty

The feeling of not wanting anything more

Moments that only you gave

Everything, everything

Everything has passed

But you were so pretty

Seojun hummed the song as he finalized the playlist for Jukyung’s wedding. Of course, he was going to perform at Jukyung’s wedding. It only made sense given his connection to Jukyung and Suho. The fact that Suho’s father was an important man at Move Entertainment also helped make things official.

A part of Han Seojun had wished that Jukyung hadn’t asked him. He was terrified of her wedding day; terrified of what his heart might do to him, terrified that he might feel compelled to run away with her in front of everyone.

Right now Seojun was calm. But it felt like it was the calm before the storm.

“Memories of me, have probably become, a thing of the past for you too, whatever I saw to you, it will all be something, in the past.”

“What’s that? New song?” His band mate asked when he overheard Seojun singing to himself.

“Hmm? No, its Day6.” The song had been stuck in his head since the day he had sung it for Sujin.

“You’re going to play a cover for your friend?”

“Yeah.” It would be his send off to Jukyung. Like Kang Sujin, Seojun was going to put an end to his chapter with Jukyung.

His bandmate put the song on their speaker. After the first verse he declared, “Yah! You can’t play a breakup song at a wedding.”

“Is it too obvious? I was hoping I could get away with it.” Seojun scratched the back of his head, stretching. He had been on his computer for hours now.

“Take it off. Choose something else.”

Seojun went back through his list of songs that he wanted to play. There was one other song that he had discovered recently by a disbanded group. He had really connected with the lyrics and it wasn’t a breakup song.

“How about this?” Seojun played it.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Use that for the couple dance.” His bandmate said.

The anticipation of the pain kept Seojun up all night. He worried about how he might behave or what might happen. The next day he woke up grouchy and depressed.

“Woah! Why do you look like a ghost?” His bandmate had said when Seojun arrived that morning. He would be going to the wedding with his band, given that they were performing. This might have been easier if he had gone with his friends.

Don’t worry. I’m here if you need me. Sujin had texted that morning. But Seojun was done relying on Sujin like a crutch. He would deal with things on his own. He didn’t want Sujin to think that all he was good for was complaining about his broken heart.

Seojun waited for the pain to hit when they arrived at the location but it didn’t. The wedding planner helped Seojun and his band set up along with members of Seojun’s own staff. When everything was good to go, Seojun took his leave to meet Jukyung in the bridal room where everyone was taking pictures with her.

Here it comes. The pain. How would it feel? Would Seojun cry again?

“Seojun-ah! You’re here!” Jukyung said. She looked stunning in her beautiful white dress. “Hurry! Get in the picture!”

Everyone was there, already positioned for the shot. Seojun joined Sujin to the side. She was wearing a tasteful black pant suit that fit her well. She was wearing makeup which Seojun noticed looked similar to one of Jukyung’s tutorials.

“How does it feel?” He whispered to Sujin.

“Meh.” She replied. “You?”

It was strange. Seojun didn’t feel anything. “Oddly enough, I feel fine.” Surely he was in shock. The pain would hit any time soon. 

It was a while before the pictures were done. Seojun’s cheeks felt sore from all of the smiling.

“Come with me to see Suho.” Sujin held up her arm and Seojun took it. She escorted him to where Suho was receiving his guests.

“Lee Su! Congratulations!” Sujin hugged him. Seojun did the same.

“Yah! I can’t believe we’re old enough to get married.” Seojun commented. Suho laughed.

Chorong and the Seojun Squad came over too, patting a blushing Suho on the back.

Seojun couldn’t help but think that Seyeon would have loved to have seen this. Sujin sensed his sadness and bumped shoulders with him.

“Okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Seojun smiled. Oddly enough he was. The pain still hadn’t hit.

A couple of girls walked up to him and asked him whether he really was the Han Seojun they were fans of.

“Of course!” Seojun puffed his chest and signed their autographs. He couldn’t see it but he could feel Sujin’s disgusted gaze on his back. When they were gone, Seojun turned to Sujin with an arrogant grin.

“Ah, I hope more people won’t bother me for my autograph.” He said in fake modesty.

“You should be grateful to have any fans.” She scoffed at him.

“Ugh. You’re too mean, Sujin-ah.” Seojun pouted.

“Ugh. You’re too childish, Seojun-ah.” Sujin mimicked him.

“Um. Excuse me.” A shy looking girl approached Seojun.

“Oh, you want an autograph too?” Seojun had a pen ready. Sujin gave him her most scathing side eye.

“Um actually—”

“You want a picture too? Sorry but I’m not allowed to take pictures at the moment. But I’ll sign if you like.”

The girl blushed deeply. “No, um—”

“Oh I get it.” Seojun swiped his hair dramatically from his forehead. “You’re here to confess to me. Well then I should let you know—”

“They’dlikeyoubackonstage!” The girl quickly blurted. “They’d like you to join your band. The ceremony is about to begin.”

Sujin laughed uproariously, that clear gurgle of pure, high pitched happiness that Seojun often enjoyed. But not in this moment. Not when his arrogance had been so efficiently deflated.

“Sure. I’ll be right there.” He mumbled to the girl who scurried away. Sujin was still laughing. “Found that funny, did you?” Seojun said, but it was not a reprimand. He liked that she was happy.

“Yes.” Sujin wiped away tears.

“You’re going to regret making fun of me when I perform.” He said, comically pulling the lapels of his jacket before leaving.

The lights dimmed as the wedding began. The Master of Ceremonies kicked things off, guiding everyone through everything. The band only played instrumental now. Suho entered first. Jukyung entered after him, looking every bit the ethereal angel that she was.

The couple exchanged their wows and drank the traditional wine. They then bowed to each other and bowed to their guests. Even in the darkness, Seojun could pick out Sujin. From the light glittering off her cheeks he could tell she was crying. He was too. But these were happy tears. His friends were about to make a new journey in their life together and he was happy for them. Truly. That pain he had dreaded over Jukyung’s wedding never did show up. Perhaps it never would. All he could feel was excitement for his closest friends.

Seojun had only one regret, that Seyeon hadn’t been able to see this moment. Seyeon’s was the one absence he always felt. In that moment, Han Seojun swore that he saw Seyeon among the guests. He saw his friend smile to Lee Suho’s and then to him. But Seojun blinked and Seyeon was gone but Seojun would keep that image of Seyeon similing with him forever.

Once the formal ceremony was over, it was time for the real party to begin. Seojun and his band turned up the performance, raising the mood of the room. People danced and sang along with them as they played so well that Sujin realized she could no longer make fun of Seojun when he bragged about his band.

The band then slowed things down, the set finally reaching the song Seojun was excited to play. He emptied his mind of everything but that one song and how it made him feel. This was for Suho and Jukyung and he was going to give his best performance tonight.

The bride and groom took center stage and swayed as Seojun played a softer version of Haru by a lesser known band, Royal Pirates. His rich baritone filled the room as everyone listened, entranced.

“You’re not a traditional beauty, but I like you, you who gets more attractive everyday.”

Seojun had never understood why people considered her attractive. To him, beauty had never mattered. But as he had gotten to know her, he found her to be more beautiful that how others described her.

“You don’t have a feminine voice, but the more I hear it, the more I get attached.”

He could hear her now, scolding him, yelling at him, throwing witty remarks at him that caused him whiplash, which was just his heart beating really fast.

“I can’t call you often, but I always miss you.  Each minute, each second. Yeah-yeah.”

When he thought about it, they never really hung out as much as he did with Suho or his Seojun Squad. Most of the time Seojun was busy with work and so was she. But he still looked forward to the times he would meet her again.

“An entire day would pass just by looking at you. If I look at you, I can’t do anything else. Oooooooh. An entire day would pass just by thinking of you. I won’t be able to sleep at thoughts of you. But I can’t help it, an entire day would pass just because of you.”

Time did fly when they were together. Whether he liked her or hated her, he had to admit. She was never boring. Even through the mundane stuff, she always kept his attention. With her brows furrowed as she concentrated, her mouth turned like an ‘n’. He smiled whenever he thought about it.

“We have so many differences. But you fill up what I lack. No matter how much I see you, you’re always beautiful. No matter what anyone says.”

She was always ahead of him; so much smarter and stronger. Beating him at everything. Well, everything except—wait. He never played basketball with Jukyung.

Seojun missed a note. The guitar twanged awkwardly as he stopped singing. His hands were shaking but he didn’t have time to digest what had just happened. The moment only lasted a half-second; Seojun had recovered quickly and continued. No one paid attention to his little mess up, but his hands were still shaking, and his heart felt like it would burst.

He couldn’t think about it. But how couldn’t he? This song had been for her all along. He had been staring at Kang Sujin the entire time he was performing, without even knowing it.

“An entire day would pass just by looking at you. If I look at you, I can’t do anything else. Oooooooh. An entire day would pass just by thinking of you. I won’t be able to sleep at thoughts of you. But I can’t help it, an entire day would pass just because of you.”

The base guitarist for his band leaned over to him when the song was done.

“Thought you lost your footing for a bit there.”

“You noticed? Did anyone else did?”

“Nah, I think you’re safe. But are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“Nothing.” Seojun said, more to himself, “Its… its nothing.”

ix.

He never got to see her again at the wedding. The band was surrounded by fans once they finished so they had to be escorted out. Their food had been arranged separately for privacy. By the time Seojun got the chance to break free, Sujin, along with most of the guests, had left.

Which was good because he needed to settle himself before he said anything to anyone. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened.

“I like Kang Sujin? Ridiculous. Totally, ridiculous. This would never happen!”

Be that as it may, his heart still acted strangely when he got a text from her asking if he was okay. She was worried about him since Jukyung and Suho were now married. He told her tersely that he was busy and couldn’t meet. Then threw his phone away when he realized he actually really wanted to meet her.

It was the first time that I felt that there was someone else who could understand me and understand what I was going through.

Seojun could still remember his irritation when Sujin had told him why she liked Lee Suho. He had resented the fact that yet another girl saw Lee Suho as perfect. How could Han Seojun ever compare to the perfectly perfect Lee Suho? He and Sujin had ten years between them and a shared tragedy with their fathers that Seojun didn’t have.

Ah-nee, can’t I be someone who understands? Can’t she see that I get her too?

“Ridiculous. Why would I want her to think I understand her? Ridiculous.”

If Han Seojun had to answer the What, When, Where and Why of his feelings, he would not be able to put it into words. His feelings were intense and complicated. Too complicated for even him to comprehend. Which is why the braincell that he shared with Suho decided that he must be mistaken and that he didn’t actually have any feelings for Sujin.

“Ah-ne-da. I must have been overwhelmed because of Jukyung. Yes, that must be it. It must be a defense mechanism. I’m only thinking about her to protect myself, because I’m still not over Jukyung.”

It made sense. She was the only other girl he was close to in his squad, and they had been hanging out together more than they used to. His heart must have just gotten confused for a moment. Yes, that was it and nothing more.

The group did not meet each other for a while. Suho and Jukyung had gone off to their honeymoon. Suah and Taehoon had their own things. Seojun only met up with Chorong and Co. but his heart was never in those meetings.

He wouldn’t meet up with her. She tried texting and calling but he always gave her an excuse.

Why did we start meeting so much in the first place? He hadn’t noticed when it had happened, but Sujin had become someone he had come to rely on and this he only noticed when he started avoiding her.

“Seojun, you’re not coming to the flower festival?” Chorong asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? What flower festival?”

“Ah-nee, where is your mind these days? You attend it every year! Did you forget?”

Oh right. Seojun always did like to see the flower exhibitions held once a year. He always got flowers for his mother and sister when he went. It may have seemed like a ridiculous hobby for a boy to be so interested in flowers. But Seojun unabashedly liked them and of course, Chorong and Co. were always there to go with him.

“Of course I’m going to attend. Wae?”

“Sujinnie was asking if she could tag along with us. Suah and Taehoon are not around so she has no one to go with.”

Sujinnie?! Seojun blinked rapidly. “Ya, since when are you and Kang Sujin close?”

“Waegurae? Aren’t we all friends with her now? Did something happen?”

Seojun put on a straight face, “Ah-nee!” He exclaimed in a pitch too high, “Nothing happened. I’m just surprised, as all.”

“Aigoo. Did you guys fight? Sujin did say you haven’t been replying to her texts recently.”

Seojun tried hiding his curiosity, “You’ve spoken to her?” He said, as nonchalantly as he could, which wasn’t nonchalant at all.

“Of course. We all had drinks yesterday.”

“What?! Why the hell did you guys meet her and not me?”

“Seojun, she did text you about it.” One of his friends pointed out.

“Yeah! And why are you acting so weird? Do you hate Kang Sujin again?” Chorong asked.

“Ya! Don’t hate her! We like her now!”

“Yes!” Half the group said together.

“Arasso! Arasso! Calm down.” Seojun waved at them to chill. It wasn’t as if he minded that Kang Sujin was hanging out with his friends. But he did feel a sense of betrayal that he didn’t know about it.

“So, how about it? Will you go?” Chorong asked.

The flower festival was an exhibition where all flower vendors came over to show off their best products. People looking for suppliers of flowers and the public in general could attend, buy flowers or just enjoy the various arrangements.

Seojun went with Chorong and the others. Sujin was there waiting for them.

“Ya Han Seojun! You’re alive!” She lit up when she saw him, punching him in the chest with a brutal force only she had.

“Yah! How could you hurt an idol like that?” Seojun rubbed his chest in pain.

“Oh, sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all!” Seojun said, “I’m a man. I don’t get hurt.”

“Pfft. Sure.” Sujin grinned.

They went through the various stalls that showcased the various beautiful flowers. The group seemed to have broken off. Chorong was led away by his girlfriend to take some pictures. The boys all banded around a strange, evil looking plant like school children. Seojun and Sujin seemed to have taken a track of their own.

“You don’t want to take pictures?” Seojun asked, pointing at Chorong and his girlfriend who were stopping at every stall.

“I don’t care for that sort of thing. Wae? You want me to take yours?”

“No. We should take on together.”

Seojun took out his phone and pulled Sujin closer, taking a selfie.

“Ya, you can’t even see the flowers.” Sujin complained.

“Yes, you can.” Seojun put a hand to his cheek. “Right here. I’m the flower.”

Sujin’s lip curled in disdain. “Ah, right.” She said dryly. Seojun laughed and she couldn’t help but smile too.

As a regular attendee, Seojun knew most of the repeat vendors there. He took Sujin around, introducing her to the people who knew him and showing her the various flowers he liked. Sujin listened to him go on at length about where the flowers came from and what they meant.

“You know the language of flowers?” Sujin asked, thinking back to the white tulips and the yellow roses he had gotten her way back when.

“Dangyunhaji! Every man should know flowers. How else will you impress the ladies?”

Sujin chuckled. “You know if being an idol doesn’t pan out, you can always be a florist.”

“I’m too pretty to be a florist. The flowers would all wither in shame.”

Sujin patted his head, sarcastically remarking, “Aigoo, our Seojun has suffered so much for being so good looking. It must have been so difficult, living like this.”

It felt nice being with Sujin again. Seojun felt oddly energetic; like he could run a mile and not break a sweat. He babbled about this and that and wondered if Sujin was getting bored. But she never was, she listened and nodded and responded when need be. Time flew by and before he knew it, they had finished going through the festival.

He pulled at the sleeve of her coat, “There’s something else you should see.”

In the back corner, hidden away from the main area were the small level vendors who could only afford the cheaper stalls. It was a street that led away from the festival. Only a couple of people were around.

“These people don’t earn that much because they’re always placed at the back. But they have the best flowers.”

Seojun introduced her to the people that were running the stall, all of whom he knew by name. Some of them gave Sujin flowers for free. She gratefully took them.

The day was almost ending, the slow sunset had begun. A lot petals had been shed. The street with these vendors was covered in these petals, making it look like a path made entirely of flowers.

“This is really beautiful, Seojun-ah.” Sujin said, admiring the street.

“Yeah.” Seojun said, looking at her.

One of the stalls was filled entirely with tulips. Bright yellow owns, pretty pink ones, eccentric multi-colored ones. Seojun pulled out a purple one and gave it to Sujin.

“Here you go, Princess.” Purple tulips represented regality. Sujin smiled.

“Aaand…” Seojun’s picked out a red one. “Here.” He said. Then quickly-— a little too quickly— he added. “Ah-Because it matches your coat.” He pointed at Sujin’s red coat.

Sujin looked at the flower, then back at him. But said nothing.

They strolled over to a bridge that overlooked the entire festival. The descending sun had set everything in a warm glow. The air smelled sweet with all of the flowers. Petals flew in the air.

“Here.” Sujin handed the tulips back to Seojun.

“Why? They’re for you.”

Sujin smiled. “Phabo. You should be giving them to the girl you like. And tell her what they mean when you give them.”

Seojun sighed wistfully, “The girl I like doesn’t know the language of flowers.”

Sujin hit him lightly with the tulips. “I wasn’t talking about Lim Jukyung. Go and like someone else, and bring her here, and give them these.”

“I wasn’t talking about Lim Jukyung either.”

“Mwo-ya. You have someone you like?”

Seojun’s bit his lip. “Yeah. But I’m going to give up.”

“Waaaee? You only just got over Lim Jukyung!”

“Because this girl likes someone else too.”

“Omo, chincha?” Sujin laughed. “Again? Ya, Han Seojun, can’t you choose a better girl to like?”

Seojun gave a sad chuckle. “I know, right?”

“Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Yeah.”

“Who is it? Tell me!”

“Nope. Secret.”

“Ugh, how stingy. At least give me a hint. What does she look like?”

Seojun looked at Sujin, “She’s beautiful. Very beautiful.”

“Ayyy, that’s every girl out there.”

“Well, that’s all the hint I’m giving.”

Sujin punched his arm but relented. It was perhaps better to not know who Seojun liked. Sujin would have been filled with jealousy again and she didn’t want that.

It was curious however, that Seojun found someone he liked, and she didn’t even know. It was curiouser that this new girl had someone she liked too. Just like Sujin, Han Seojun had—

Sujin looked at the tulips in her hand. They stood out among the other flowers the various vendors had given her. Sujin looked at Seojun, who was busy admiring the sunset.

It was strange, but in that moment, she remembered something her teacher had once said.

Some of you don’t know what it is you really want. And some of you do know but you’re hesitant. However, opportunities come without warning and you must be prepared to take advantage of it.

“Han Seojun.”

“Hmm?”

Sujin pointed the flowers at him, tilting her head slightly. Much like he had done a long time ago when he had asked her Do you think I’m handsome?

“Do you like me?”

And just like she had, Seojun answered immediately, with no remorse or regret. “Yes.”

Like the cool girl she was, Sujin didn’t overreact or exclaim in surprise. She only casually said, “I like you too. So, we should date.”

A beat of a pause. One, two three.

“What? What?! WHAT?! You like me? You like me?! Me?! As in, Han Seojun?”

“Yes you, you idiot. Manhi Joahae.”

“What? Ican’tbelievethis. How? Why? Wait, you asked me if I liked you. Did you already know?” Seojun appeared as if his brain had malfunctioned.

Sujin grinned. “You phabo, even if I didn’t know flower language, I could still tell by the red tulip. Ah-nee, red is the universal color for romance. Didn’t you know?”

Seojun’s face was a mixture of wonder, shock and pure happiness. His eyes were wide, cheeks red and pulled up, mouth hanging open in a slow smile. He had no words to speak. He felt like he would explode like a firecracker and light up the sky in sparks.

“You like me? You really like me?”

Sujin closed the distance between them, pulling at the lapel of his coat. She gave him only a chaste peck on his lips before moving back, blushing. “It’s official now. So, no backing out, okay?”

His mind, that was already haywire, went blank.

He pulled Sujin by the waist, pressing her entire form to him and cupped her face with his other hand. The kiss he gave her was intense and she gasped before giving in to him. Sujin felt she could stay like this forever. The kiss only ended because their mouths kept pulling back in an uncontrollable grin.

“You like me?” Seojun asked.

“Yes.”

He kissed her again but they couldn’t stop smiling. Both of them were shaking.

“You like me?” He asked again.

“Yes.” She replied again, chuckling.

And they kissed again.

“You like me?”

“Yes!” She laughed.

And they kissed again. And he asked again, she replied again, and they kissed again and again and again.

 EPILOGUE

When Seojun and Sujin told Jukyung and the others that they were dating, it had been the first of April. So naturally everyone assumed they were joking. Seojun and Sujin hadn’t realized this and were surprised at the luke warm response that everyone gave to their announcement.

“Yes. We believe you.” Suah had said and Sujin missed her sarcastic tone.

when Seojun gushed over Sujin, the group all just looked at each other thinking, Wow, they’re really dedicated to this prank.

And even when they left together, the group all gathered and said;

“You believe them?”

“Why pull a prank that’s so obvious?”

“Exactly! Han Seojun and Kang Sujin? No way.”

Only Suho had been the one to keep his silence and not say anything.

But when they all met up again and Seojun and Sujin acted like a couple again, everyone gasped in shock.

“What?!”

“You guys are actually dating?!”

“How?! How did this happen?”

Only Suho had been the one who wasn’t surprised. “Congratulations. I’m happy for the two of you.” He had said warmly.

“Sujin-ah, what about our affair?” Jukyung said despondently, making a crying face.

“I’ll let you know when Seojunnie goes on tour.” Sujin assured her quietly.

“YAH!” Both Suho and Seojun exclaimed in protest, pulling their girlfriends away from each other.

“Lim Jukyung, you keep your hands off my girlfriend.” Seojun warned.

“I will. But there’s no guarantee she’ll keep her hands off me.”

Chorong and Co. had a similar reaction, they all exploded into shock and happiness at the news. Only Chorong seemed unsurprised.

“So you finally figured out your feelings?” Chorong asked Seojun.

“You knew?”

“Friends know.”

To Sujin, Chorong said, “Sujin-ah, I respect you a lot. But if you hurt—”

“Arasso, arasso. I won’t hurt your precious Han Seojun.”

“I meant don’t hurt me if he ever pisses you off. You scare the shit out of me.”

When enough time had passed and they knew they had to tell their parents, they went to Seojun’s mother first. The woman had been pleasantly surprised by this news and declared Sujin a part of the family immediately. She had met Sujin before and had taken a liking to her immediately but now that she and Seojun were dating, the woman gushed and cried.

“Ah, I have another daughter now.” She said, kissing Sujin on the forehead.

The tricky part was Sujin’s mother, who was still a little pissed over the scandal.

“What will people say if you announce this online?!” The woman had argued.

“But mom,” Sujin made a flower pot with her hands around Seojun’s face, “look at how handsome he is.” And that was enough to entice Mrs. Kang.

Receiving so much happiness and love from everyone was an unfamiliar experience for Sujin. So much so that it terrified her. She felt like she was in a dream that would shatter any minute and she would suddenly wake up back in her old bed with her father banging on the door, screaming at her that she was worthless.

It was this image that jerked Sujin awake in the middle of the night. She sat up straight, her heart was pounding, her hands felt sweaty and clammy. Her father’s shouting was still ringing in her ears.

Seojun stirred on the other side of the bed, “Bad dream?” His rich baritone was husky from sleep but it cut through the darkness of the room and Sujin didn’t feel so scared anymore.

“Um-hmm.”

“Come here.” Seojun patted her side of the bed. She fell back into his arms, nuzzling her nose in his neck.

He sang to her softly, his deep voice soothing her. “Love, love the stars. Love, love the moon. Nothing has really changed. It’s still the same air. With the same bed looking at the same ceiling.”

Sujin’s hands stopped feeling clammy and dirty and soon enough, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of flowers and sunsets.

 THE END.

A/N: Dear reader, if you stuck till the end and liked what I wrote, then thank you. Saranghae <3

Please have my badly made memes with my sarangs

[sedated-love]

VillainDekuxReader smut

Eighth post of October!! 

Alright, Hear me out- I wrote this after not sleeping for 30+ hours and I don’t wanna talk about it uwu

TW- Necrophilia, Kidnapping, body mutilation, noncon, cheating, Dark shit idk, please read at your own discretion 

If you have any suggestions for what I write in the future, please feel free to leave them in my ask box!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The next time they touch what’s mine, I’ll cut their arms off”

That was the warning that you got and yet you still didn’t listen. You belong to the number one villain in Japan. ‘Belong’ being the key word in that sentence. Deku kidnapped you a little over a week ago claiming stuff like soulmates and that he knew at first glance that you were meant to be his. You had tried to escape numerous of times, but it was impossible. Even if you did somehow manage to get out of his grasp, he would have someone bring you back to him in less than an hour.

He was the all-powerful. No one out ranked him in strength or in brains…and that included you. Though, despite knowing this, you couldn’t help yourself from finding a someone to try and keep you happy during all the bad. He was a nice guy that you met at the bar one night. He offered to buy you another drink and you offered to stay the night… but Deku has eyes everywhere and by the time you made it back, he already knew everything that happened down to the miniscule details, almost as if he had watched the entire thing himself.

You took your punishment with pride. You were used as a cock warmer for three days straight but for some reason you couldn’t help but feel a since of gratification in the fact that for the first time since you got kidnapped, you got to make your own decision. You would even go as far to say as you were happy, and it was that lingering happiness that had you wandering back to the man from the bar despite Deku’s warning. If only you had listened- then maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“Deku, please!” “I warned you, princess.”

He was standing with one foot on the male’s back, keeping him pinned against the ground as he held one of his arms behind him, making sure to keep it steady as his other arm held the axe above his head. You closed your eyes when you noticed the axe drop, the ear-piercing scream that followed being enough to tell you that Deku had kept his promise. “Ah fuck…” The curse had you opening your eyes but as soon as you did, you regretted it.

“Guess I’ll have to try again~”

Deku held the axe up again, holding the arm that hadn’t gotten lopped off all the way and was now only hanging on by a spare piece of flesh. Though not for long as Deku dropped the axe once more, taking it the rest of the way off as he ignored the sobs of the male below him. He tossed the dismembered arm at your feet, a sadistic smirk spearing across his blood covered face.

“How does it feel to know you could have prevented this entire thing, princess~?”

“S-St..op…plea…se..”

You were trembling where you stood, eyes wide in horror as you felt your stomach churn. You couldn’t stop yourself from puking right next to the arm that laid at your feet, feeling dizzy as you witness the most blood you have ever seen in your life spilling from where his arm use to be. Despite your pleads, Deku wasn’t finished yet. He grabbed the other arm, pulling it back the same way that he had the other before looking at you with a calm expression.

“I’ve dedicated myself to you. It’s only fair you do the same.”

He dropped the axe, taking off the other arm as the screams of pain haunted your ears. You weren’t sure you were ever going to be able to unhear them as they stained their way into your soul. You stood completely frozen in horror as you had always known Deku was a villain by hearing him speak of things but witnessing them was something completely different.

You took a step back as he walked towards you. His face was still calm, but it was covered in blood as he threw the second arm to the side, completely ignoring the now armless man who was bleeding out on the floor not even 6 feet away from you. “Now, it’s time you learn your place.”

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, dropping his bloodied axe before dragging you back over to the body that was still offering soft sobs below you. You felt your own sobs escape your throat as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your chest heaved rapidly as you felt panic and fear making themselves at home in your bones. The guilt that you felt looking down at the innocent man below you was overwhelming. None of this would have happened if you had just listened to Deku’s warning but you were greedy, and you did what you wanted without heading the consequences. Now you were pretty sure his life was on your hands as he was losing blood fast and Deku didn’t seem to have any interest in saving him.

“You wanted to fuck him so badly, right~? That’s why you caused all of this”

He turned the half dead man onto his back, yanking down his pants and boxers in one pull. “Suck him off.” Deku’s expression turned dark as he stared at you with a deadly serious expression on his face. “W-Wha…” He grabbed you by the back of your head, yanking you down to your knees next to the bleeding body, his voice turning into almost a growl as he spoke.

“You wanted him so suck him off.”

He spoke in a lower octave than normal that told you it wasn’t a suggestion but there was no way you could do it. You bent over to puke again but all you could manage was some dry heaving as you had already puked up everything you had. Tears were still streaming down your face and you looked at Deku with a pleading look, silently begging him to not make you but he already had his mind made up and he never was a very patient man.

“I suggest you start sucking…unless you wanna lose an arm as well~”

He yanked your head down so that your face was rubbing against his bare crotch before you could even respond. You squeaked and tried to pull back, but he had a tight grip in your hair, keeping your face firmly in place. “I won’t tell you again.”

Defeated, you whimpered as you took the flaccid penis of the half dead man in your mouth, giving soft sucks in between your sobs. “Come on, princess~ Suck it like you mean it.” He bobbed your head with his hand still entangled in your hair, making you follow the motions as if you were giving an actual blow job. “Isn’t this what you wanted~? This is why you cheated on me, right~?”

He let go of your hair only to yank down your pants and underwear, making quick work of his own as well. “Don’t stop sucking.” He lined up his hard member with your entrance, shoving all of himself in without any prep or warning. A muffled weak moan left your mouth as you continued to suck the soft dick, knowing what would happen if you let it leave your mouth but you were pretty sure it would be impossible for any guy to get hard after having both of his arms sliced off.

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock, princess~”

Deku purred as he started thrusting inside of you, grabbing roughly onto your hips so that there were bound to be bruises in the shape of his hands there tomorrow as he slammed his thick cock deep inside of you, pressing right against your soft spot with every thrust so that you had no choice but to moan despite your circumstances.

“Awe~ He died so fast~”

Deku didn’t stop pounding as he said this, but you yelped, pulling your head off the cock in your mouth as you looked up and saw the now breathless corpse that was laying underneath you. A panicked yelp left your mouth as you tried to push yourself away from the corpse but Deku’s tight grasp on your said otherwise.

“Oh no, princess~ You can’t blue ball him~ You gotta finish the job!”

He roughly pushed your head back down against the cock that you had no way of finishing, not seeming to care. “I-I ca…nt…” You choked out weakly between your slight gasps as Deku was still thrusting inside of you as if you weren’t fucking on top of a dead body. “I don’t remember giving you an option.”

He stopped thrusting just to grab your face, pinching down on your cheeks until he forced your jaw open. He then shoved the cock back in your mouth before keeping a hand placed firmly on the back of your skull so you could do nothing but keep it deep in you mouth as he went back to thrusting deep inside of you.

You felt absolutely awful and you wanted to hate it but he was thrusting right against your soft spot with every thrust in the way that had you moaning pitifully against the corpse settled in your throat. He reached around with the hand not holding your head down to rub your clit in time with this thrusts as he let out his own moans of pleasure, hips bucking rapidly against yours as the sound of your skin colliding combined with the lewd wet noises of him entering you got progressively louder.

“Your sucking in my cock so greedily~”

He purred as you started to melt in the pleasure. The more you surrendered yourself to it, the less pain you were in and soon all you could feel was the pleasure of his dick hitting the deepest parts within you. Loud pleasured moans escaped your throat as you weakly bucked your hips against the hand that was rubbing against your clit. Worst of all, you even began idly sucking at the cock that was still in your mouth as your brain turned to utter mush. You felt the recognizable heat building in your stomach, your vision going white as you cummed roughly from Deku’s manipulation.

His hips never stopped, though. He continued to pound into you, sending over stimulation running hot over your entire body as you began to quiver under his touch. He used your body to get himself off, not stopping until he was cumming himself almost an hour later, leaving you broken and twitching underneath of him as you had no choice but to take it.

“Fuck~”

He slowly pulled out, watching as his cum slowly started to dribble out of you as he finally let go of your head, letting you pull your now sore jaw off of the cock that was in your mouth as you went limp against the lap of the dead man that you had cheated on deku with. He purred, running his fingers through your hair as you looked up at him sleepily and completely out of it. A pleased rumble left his throat as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“You’re all mine~”

[aliaslua]

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” “What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” with a Male! Reader if that's alright? I love your work btw 🖤

When I tell you I made up a whole lore in my head for this small ficklet... Bae, you better believe it. Childhood friends to lovers is my fucking gem and I sincerely hope you like it! <3 It’s bit short, but it was written with love u - u 

Meant to be Leonardo vs Male!Reader

There is some kind of sorrow in the kind memories we have of our childhood, maybe that’s what they call nostalgia. Leo sighed once again, deeply involved in his meditation session. Like most times, you were the intrusive thought in his mind. A beautiful memory, now converted into a sad reality, tainted by the unspeakable uncertainties of adulthood.  

He remembers like it was yesterday, that day almost fifteen year ago, when you first met. They were only ten at that time and had sneaked out of the lair, contrary to Sensei’s prohibition. The outside world was loud and the air was so fresh, he remembered how heavy his heart felt while he and his brothers traveled in the shadows of New York city. A scream led them to that alley, where a boy, not much younger than them was about to be beaten by a gang of older boys. He remembered the first time he saw injustice and the burning feeling that he felt in his guts to protect that child, whoever they were. He was you and you were fearless. Cornered in that alley, Leo was expecting to find someone scared and intimidated but in your eyes he only saw the purest kind of courage, that  stubbornness you can only find in the strongest of hearts. 

Of course, no matter how strong your spirit was, you didn’t have the body strength to fight those thugs, so Leonardo and his brothers intervened. A friendship started, a kind, naive, unbreakable bond, that kind that can only be formed during childhood. You never left his life since then. 

He made an effort to think of something else, meditation wasn’t supposed to be mono-thematic. It was useless. It was too late. He had to act upon his feelings, listen to his heart, act on his desire or he would be haunted by the possibility forever. 

Tonight, your friendship will be put to the test. 

***

A faint knock got your attention, even as you studied in your room. You recognize that knock, since it belonged to your favorite person in the world. You opened the window so Leo could get in. As always his greeting was silent and affectionate and as always, you felt your heart warm at the feeling of his arms around you. 

“Hope I am not interrupting.” He said. 

“Not at all… I really need some break from all of this.” You smiled and closed your books, he looked at your desk, full of notes, notebooks, papers and library catalogs.

“I admire your dedication.” Leo spoke kindly and you knew even without a mirror your face must have turned red. 

“Well, it means a lot coming from you… The most dedicated man I know.”

“Y/N I…” He started but the noise coming from the living room as your roommates talked made him aware you weren’t alone “Can we talk…?” He asked, serious. 

“Sure.” You answered straightening your back “Let’s go to the rooftop.”

***

It would be impossible to predict what Leo had in mind, but your heart was telling you that your time was up, Leo had cracked you and you knew the inevitable conversation was going to happen. Oh god, how long could you keep living like that? Was this the night your heart was finally going to get broken? 

“Y/N… I’ve been living with an unbearable feeling for the past years… I’ve had enough of this tension and I found it’s time to be honest, even if my honesty affects our friendship in ways I can’t fix after this. I think it isn’t fair with you to keep this facade going…”

“I'm going to stop you right there.” You interrupted him. In your head, things were clear as day “Leo, I am sorry. I truly am. I never meant for things to be like this, I am sorry if I ruined our friendship, I am sorry if you feel like I took advantage of your kindness, your affection… But I can’t pretend like I don’t feel like this…” 

Silence break between you, you could only hear the sound of your own heart before he spoke:

“What” 

“What” You answered almost immediately. 

“What are you talking about?” You gazed at him quickly to realize he was the one blushing now.

“I thought you were going to cut me off your life.”

“WHAT” The perplexity palpable in his voice “I was going to confess!” 

His words strike you as an electric current, the heat in your cheeks only surpassed by the coldness in your stomach. 

“...what… Are you saying… What, no… Are you saying…”

“I am in love with you.” he said, no mumbling, no hesitation.

“...what took you so long?” You said under your breath. 

“ I thought you saw me as a friend.” The gazed quickly into your arms before facing the ground. 

“Are you… kidding me? Leo… we were never just friends and you fucking know it! I… I thought I made my admiration so clear for you! Leo, it was always you! Every time, it was you. I… What the fuck, you couldn’t tell??” 

Your reaction took him by surprise, you could tell but at that moment, all you could think was the time you wasted being apart, knowing that you felt the same for each other all that time.

“I am sorry?” he stuttered a little. 

All the nervousness had dissipated in your heart now replaced by the unmistakable heat you knew as happiness. Three steps was all it took, you made the decisive move and held him closer than ever, as your lips joined for the first time, in the kiss that would change everything, forever. 

He returned the kiss with no hesitation holding your shoulders in a supportive gesture. Once apart you held his face and gazed deeply in his eyes, confessing your biggest secret:

 “What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids?”

He smiled deeply as he stared into your eyes. There it was, the smile that haunted your dreams and brightened your days, now so close to your face, smiling only for you. 

“I would say I feel the same… That we were meant to be.”

[belladxne]

i will see you where the shadow ends | chapter 8

[see notes for ao3 and ff links]

part of the put your faith in the light that you cannot see series AU: Breath of the Wild pairing: KiriBaku word count: 6,638

chapter 8: i think you should know this uncertainty has got me restless

Eijiro’s not really sure what he was expecting when he finally saw Aizawa. Inko had called him a young man—probably because, by comparison to her, he was—but she had also said he’d been one of Katsuki’s advisors one hundred years before. The end result was that Eijiro had had a completely incongruent mental image of him, something somewhere between, like, some mysterious Sheikah warrior in his late twenties, and a wizened, decrepit old sage with endless patience and kind eyes.

The Aizawa he gets is… not either of those things. Like, not even close.

Even in age, he’s neither young like Inko had said, nor as old as he logically should be if he was around a century before. If Eijiro had to guess, he’d put Aizawa somewhere in his sixties; the man seems old but not tremendously so, with a few spare wrinkles pressed into the lines of his face here and there, and hair gone white with age—only the leftover strands of black littered throughout indicating that his hair wasn’t always traditional Sheikah white.

But it comes down to a lot more than just his age. Eijiro’s kind of surprised that the esteemed leader of the Sheikah has such bloodshot eyes and disheveled… uh, well, everything. The faint, soft smile just barely tugging at the corner of the man’s lips is the only clue at all that the man’s expression is ever anything but unimpressed exhaustion, which just—isn’t what Eijiro would expect.

As his feet carry him further into the room, the man’s eyes drowsily close again and he shifts to scratch the area just below his left eye with his pinky, letting out a slow exhale.

“Judging from your silence, I’m going to assume you don’t remember me,” he says before his eyes sleepily blink back open—seriously, Eijiro has to wonder if this man has slept a day in his life—and Eijiro falters in his tracks.

“Um… no, sorry,” he shakes his head, biting at his lower lip in something like guilt. He—he hadn’t really thought before this about the fact that he probably should know Aizawa, if they’d both been around Katsuki one hundred years before. He hadn’t really sat still long enough to think about it, and now, as he studies the man’s face, for the first time thinking to look for anything familiar… he tries, but he finds nothing to recognize at all. “You’re—you are Aizawa, right? You—uh, Midoriya Inko? Said I should speak with you?”

Eijiro almost winces at how jumbled and awkwardly unsure it all comes out—but he hadn’t really sat still long enough to think about what to say, either. Aizawa’s eyebrows raise, eyes widening just slightly in surprise. Eijiro supposes that’s fair, considering— ...well. Considering.

“Well,” he says, his voice somewhat quiet. There’s something heavy masked in his tone, and he nods slowly. “I suppose that explains how you’re here. When we discovered the entrance to the Great Plateau caved in and blocked, we weren’t sure what could be done. It was too near Hyrule Field to justify an effort to clear the boulders—too exposed—and no one could put forward a more rational plan to get up to the plateau to leave you a message.”

Aizawa sighs, deep and honest, admiration and something a little more raw, more world-weary and mournful clear in his voice, “Midoriya Inko was a remarkably compassionate woman. I suppose it doesn’t surprise me that if anyone were to make a way to help you, it would be her.”

It’s… hard for Eijiro to think of her as dead—weird, even with the fact that she’d revealed it herself before he left the plateau. It just doesn’t click in his mind, on so many levels. Maybe it’s that most of the time they spent together was under the pretense she was alive, or maybe it’s that it’s such a surreal notion to think that the one person he’s spent the most time around since awakening wasn’t even living, or maybe it’s something else entirely.

Whatever it is, hearing her spoken of in the past tense is unsettling and—just—feels wrong. Sharp teeth poking at his bottom lip, he nods slightly, unsure how to respond. How to even begin to express just how much help she’d been, just how kind she was. Aizawa, for his part, doesn’t seem particularly interested in waiting for an answer, though, already pulling himself back to the topic at hand.

“While your memory loss is likely going to prove problematic at some point, for now I think we should consider it a blessing in disguise.”

Eijiro’s jaw drops, incredulous. “Wha—how?” His lack of memory grates at him, constantly—an always-present weight on his mind whenever he does or doesn’t recognize anything. It makes him feel so—so—frustrated and lost; the only connection he even has to who he is is Katsuki’s voice calling to him from the castle, and he still doesn’t even remember what the prince looks like.

He’s adrift and clueless, and it’s supposed to be a ‘blessing’?

A weary huff escapes Aizawa, who levels him with his surprisingly intimidating stare. “As our crown prince was particularly fond of telling you: you, Kirishima Eijiro, have always been exceedingly reckless. I have little doubt that if you remembered everything, you would already have made an ill-advised attempt to raid the castle, without stopping long enough to listen to reason.”

Eijiro doesn’t particularly want to tell him that he already can hardly restrain himself from doing exactly that. Pouting slightly, his gaze drops a little as he mutters, “Inko told me I shouldn’t.”

“And she was able to get the advice out before you’d already charged off, a fact we can all be grateful for,” Aizawa responds. Resting both his hands on his knees in front of him, the man releases a sigh. “But more so than that, there’s the nature of your memories to consider. The Calamity one hundred years ago… the events that passed were catastrophic, and for those left who lived it, to even bear the memories of what we’d seen is an unimaginable weight. To bear what you endured, Kirishima… I wouldn’t wish it on you, or anyone.”

Inko had said something to the same effect when she’d finally begun to explain things to him—he’d been unable to hold it against her at the time, but hearing the same sentiment echoed now, he grits his teeth.

He wants to—to yell, kick things, throw a tantrum if there was half a chance it might make a difference. He has to have that right, doesn’t he? To demand why everyone thinks they can decide for him what he can and can’t handle—especially when it comes to knowledge about his own self.

It’s just—it’s not fair. None of this has been fair and he’s starting to get sick of it.

As though the man can sense his line of thoughts, Aizawa leans forward, giving him a pointed look.

“Our first priority will be helping you recover your memories, Kirishima, and I am already dedicated to helping you do so to the full extent that I am able, but for now, I think we should be grateful that any time it takes you to remember will be time you can spend bracing and preparing yourself. The horrors you experienced are not to be taken lightly.”

Lips pressing together, Eijiro’s brow furrows. His hands fidget with the hem of his tunic in irritation, but... the assurance that Aizawa will help placates him some. The frustrating truth of the matter is, he trusts Inko completely and totally, and she had thought the same of how potentially overwhelming the news of what had happened to him could be—and if she trusts Aizawa to help him, he has little choice but to accept the man’s judgment. However begrudging and incomplete that acceptance may be.

“If—then—” Not for the first time—far from the first time—Eijiro has so many questions he can’t sort through that he doesn’t even know where to start, his words halting and stumbling over each other in his attempt.

They’re distracted before Eijiro can decide where to begin, however, by a faint creaking behind them. Eijiro turns, and he and Aizawa both direct their gaze to the entryway, where the little girl stands, fingers curled around the doorway as she peeks in with wide eyes. Eijiro feels the brunt of his stressed dissatisfaction drain, slightly, now that the tension has been broken by the interruption.

“It’s all right, Eri,” Aizawa calls to her gently, inclining his head. “You can come in and listen.”

She hesitates a moment or two, still seeming somewhat skittish, before she slips past the door, moving closer to Eijiro.

“Eri, this is Kirishima Eijiro. You remember the stories I’ve told you about him?”

The little girl—Eri—nods, gaze flicking to Eijiro once more as she edges closer to him. Again, he tries to give her his friendliest and most encouraging smile despite his lingering frustration. He thinks, maybe, she seems at least a little emboldened as she continues to approach him. Little victories.

“Kirishima, this is Eri. We rescued her from the Yiga Clan not long ago, and I’ve been taking care of her since. I trust I don’t have to tell you to be patient with her during your time in Kakariko Village.”

“Of course,” Eijiro responds with a firm nod, before turning again to the little girl, beaming. “It’s nice to meet you, Eri.”

She flushes, nodding quickly and looking down at the floor as she grabs again at the hem of her tunic. The Yiga Clan… it’s another piece of knowledge that does come back to him when he thinks. They were—are—a group that splintered off from the Sheikah. His memory of history more or less seems to be intact, because he can remember, somehow, that the Sheikah clan had been scorned and shunned by a Hyrulean king thousands of years ago. Out of... fear of the advanced Sheikah technology that had since been buried, he thinks?

Most of the Sheikah had decided to give up their technological advancements and hide them under the ground, but some of them had resented the king turning on them. Those were the ones who had formed the Yiga Clan, a merciless group dedicated to bringing back All for One and bringing about the deaths of its enemies.

Which meant Katsuki, and him. He manages to avoid his expression twisting in distaste, unable to picture a clan like that as being the most nurturing of places. From what he can imagine, and what he can gather from Eri’s easily frightened nature, it’s a very good thing they’d gotten her out.

“Returning to the matter at hand,” Aizawa says, directing Eijiro’s attention back to him. “You’ll know by now that one hundred years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed. Prince Katsuki’s last action before returning to the castle was to demand you be placed in a sacred slumber in the Shrine of Resurrection, to save you. His intention was to go alone to face All for One, and hold him off until you were healed, but Midoriya Izuku was here when he arrived.”

Eijiro nods, brows tugging together guiltily as his gaze fell to the floorboards. “Inko told me—told me he went in my place, because he was also a chosen of Farore.”

“Eijiro, look at me.” Aizawa’s voice is firm, and Eijiro has a hard time finding reason to refuse such a stern demand. Reluctantly, he presses his lips together and lifts his head, to meet Aizawa’s gaze. Some of the exhaustion there has ebbed, replaced with something a little more fierce.

“Neither of them were under the impression that Midoriya Izuku could take your place, nor did Midoriya believe he was obligated to undertake this burden due to some nonexistent failing on your part. Do you understand?” His tone leaves no room for argument, expression steely and unyielding. “They were under no illusions that even the two of them together could do more than buy time for your return, but that is a choice they both made, on their own—and it is neither your fault, nor something they bear any resentment towards you for. Those are the facts of the matter. Do not allow yourself to think any differently. It’s hardly rational to martyr yourself over this. You’ve already done more than most others could ever have accomplished.”

Gritting his teeth once more, Eijiro’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to bring himself to agree. Inko and Aizawa are both so insistent that he’d gone above and beyond, but he can’t remember that, can’t see any proof of it in the devastation of a kingdom he can’t even recall the heyday of. The only thing he has evidence of is that he’d fallen.

Before he can argue or force himself to accept Inko and Aizawa’s words, there’s a tugging at his waist, surprising him out of his thoughts. He blinks, looking down to see Eri’s hands wrapped tentatively around the Sheikah Slate, eyes wide and a little pleading.

“Oh, uh—” He lifts his head to look to Aizawa, unsure, but the man inclines his head in assent, so Eijiro shrugs and manages a smile directed down Eri’s way, helping her unclip it from his belt. “Just... be careful with it, okay?”

She nods adorably seriously, clearly taking his words as a matter of grave importance, before beginning to poke around the Sheikah Slate with so much confidence it’s like she’s an old pro. Eijiro watches, impressed, and it dawns on him in the moment that he might need to rethink his prior judgments on babies using Sheikah Slates, before the matter at hand tugs at his attention once more.

He doesn’t know if he can bring himself to really believe Aizawa, but it’s all beside the point.

“But...” There’s a furrow in his brow and an uncertain flex to his hands, no longer fisted tightly at his waist, as he tries to get his bearings. “Either way I have to help them. I’m—they’re running out of time, and I’m the only one who can do this, right? So how… if I can’t go to the castle, how am I supposed to help them? Inko said—said you’d know what steps to take?”

Aizawa nods, and Eijiro will concede that even if this haggard, overworked-seeming man is far from what he’d expect from a confidence-inspiring leader, or a trustworthy advisor, there’s something to the man’s demeanor.

He speaks as though his words are indisputable, tone almost bored in the thorough assurance that he’s voicing the only logical conclusion to be drawn from all the facts at hand. It makes it hard to question or deny what he says, and the calm, methodical way he carries himself makes it hard to panic. Eijiro can see why the Sheikah would trust him to lead them, why a royal family would trust him to advise.

“The only reason Prince Katsuki risked his life returning to Kakariko at all was to entrust me with a message for you. I’ve been holding onto the words he intended for you for one hundred years.”

Eijiro finds himself holding his breath as he waits for whatever could be such a grave message, wondering what could possibly be the kind of thing he couldn’t tell Eijiro himself. This—it has to be what Eijiro’s looking for, the thing that’s going to give him some—direction, finally.

He’s had no idea what he’s doing, what he should be doing, since he woke up. It feels like he’s had nothing to cling to but confusion and a sense of hurry up and wait—the urgency of being told that Hyrule needs him and that Katsuki and Izuku have been fighting his battle for a hundred years, and the maddening hindrance of being told he couldn’t even go do anything about it yet. If Katsuki left such an important message, he has to know what Eijiro can do now. He has to.

Aizawa seems to be examining Eijiro as he weighs his next words, but before he can finally give Eijiro the answer he’s been looking for—a small, confused sound interrupts them.

“It’s broken,” chimes a tiny, unfamiliar voice at his side, and Eijiro blinks as he looks down at Eri, realizing this is the first time he's heard her speak. It doesn’t register for another couple seconds that she must be talking about the slate still resting in her hands, as she frowns down at it.

Alarm fills him—how can it be broken? It’s practically the only way he got this far, and it’s Katsuki’s—Katsuki had said he’d need it to get around, he can’t have gotten it broken already.

Resisting the urge to snatch the device out of a literal six-year-old’s hands to confirm, Eijiro looks back to Aizawa for—for—well, he doesn’t know, but maybe some reassurance, or indication that the man just assumes Eri doesn’t know what she’s talking about, or anything. Aizawa isn’t looking at him anymore, though, and his expression is anything but reassuring. Eyes slightly wider and posture suddenly straight, in a manner that would have looked like alarm on any marginally more emotive man, Aizawa’s gaze is fixed on Eri.

“What do you mean, Eri?” he asks, managing the urgency Eijiro can just barely hear in his tone admirably—for Eri’s sake, presumably.

The girl frowns at the slate in her hands, looking first to Eijiro, and then to Aizawa with the most minute furrow between her brows. She has the runes screen open—all of a sudden Eijiro’s doubting the wisdom of letting a little kid handle a device that can make bombs—but before he can process the concern, she answers.

“Aunt Emi’s takes pictures.” She taps what looks like an empty rune slot on the screen, to the right of the cryonis symbol. There’s a spark of confusion in Eijiro’s mind, but then he almost lets out a sigh, because if that’s the only thing wrong with the slate then he still has all the things he needs—but Aizawa leans forward with a grim intensity that makes him rethink that.

“Is the album still intact?”

Eri shakes her little head, but begins operating the slate with effortless familiarity once more, switching to the map screen before confirming, “It’s not there.”

Aizawa hisses something under his breath that Eijiro has the distinct impression is a curse, and Eijiro’s eyebrows lift slightly. Aizawa runs a hand through his hair, expression drawn together in serious thought.

“Is...” Eijiro hazards, voice tentative as he glances between Eri and Aizawa again, “is that something I’ll need?”

It’s another moment before Aizawa returns his gaze to Eijiro, racing thoughts having apparently run their course. “For most parts of your mission, the album will be a frivolity that has no impact.” He pauses, and his tone leads Eijiro to expect the but. “But it serves a far more important purpose in the grand scheme of things.” Swearing under his breath once more, Aizawa leans back wearily.

“I can’t in good faith expect you to undertake any of the grave challenges laid before you if you can’t even remember for yourself the importance of what’s expected of you. If you have any desire to recover your memories, that album was meant to be your greatest asset.”

Eijiro’s eyes widen, a flash of distress sweeping through him. “Wh—but I can get my memories back without it, right?”

Aizawa’s lips press together in a tight line, and again there’s an uncomfortable pause before he sighs. Posture drooping, he drapes his forearms across his lap and all at once Eijiro gets the impression of the past century weighing physically on the Sheikah. “If we’re being rational, we have no guarantee that you can recover your memories at all. The intended purpose of the album was to aid in that process, but there are very real possibilities that you could get your memories back without it, or that even with it you may never remember at all. What’s important is not to panic.”

And it’s rich—it’s so rich of him to say that, as if that is not one of the most panic-worthy things Eijiro has heard since waking up.

“But I—I—” His words fail him, and how could they not? How could he possibly be expected to put into words how badly he wants to remember everything about a voice that isn’t even familiar to him? Maybe it’s just because Katsuki was the first contact he had after waking up, but Eijiro hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it—about Katsuki, more than any of the other blanks in his memory that plague him every second of the day.

It’s unbalanced—he’s important to Katsuki, he knows he is; he can tell just from the way Katsuki talks to him. How can he be content to know there’s immeasurable history behind every brief conversation they manage to have, when he can’t even put a face to Katsuki’s name? How can he be content doing that to Katsuki?

“Kirishima—” There’s the faintest note of impatience in Aizawa’s voice, but then he stops, seemingly catching himself, and when he continues, it’s with a tone minutely more gentle. “Eijiro. It’s pointless to work yourself up over a scenario that may not even come to pass. You won’t do yourself any favors by giving up hope just because there’s a chance you won’t remember. And as for the album, there’s still a chance it can be restored.”

Eijiro lets out a shaky breath, still trying to calm himself. It’s not that Aizawa’s not helping, not that his words don’t have any effect, but he can’t just turn it off.

“Okay,” he manages—though his voice isn’t as firm or as certain as he’d like. “Then, what would I need to do?” His gut still roils with unease, faintly, despite his efforts to let Aizawa’s words comfort him, but he doesn’t know how he’s going to deal with—with any of this if he can’t cling to his own next steps, to what he can do about it.

Aizawa nods, either acknowledging or approving of his attempt to focus his efforts, and the man swiftly seems to gather his thoughts. “You’ll need to take that slate to my colleague, Fukukado Emi, in Hateno Village. She’s been studying this technology since before the Calamity, and she knows more than anyone else in the kingdom about the slates specifically. If there’s a way to restore the album, she’ll either know it or she’ll find it.”

Okay… Okay. This is doable, if what Aizawa’s saying is true. Eri still holds the slate in her hands, so he can’t look at the map, but he tries to do the math from memory—not counting for the distractions and rest in the middle, it had only taken him about four hours on horseback to reach Kakariko from the horse stable, and Hateno had been about… maybe twice as far from the fork in the road?

If he leaves now—doesn’t let himself get distracted along the way—he can be in Hateno maybe a couple hours after sunset, give or take, he could—he could maybe even have the slate fixed by—

“You’re already getting ahead of yourself.” Aizawa’s sigh cuts through his thoughts. “While your eagerness is written all over your face, so is your exhaustion. And don’t think I’ve missed that glaring bruise on your head or the way you’ve been favoring your left leg.”

Eijiro flushes, something between embarrassment and shame, and he opens his mouth to protest—Aizawa’s already shaking his head wearily.

“I understand that the position you’re in is frustrating, but it’s better you understand now—there is no way to save Prince Katsuki in a matter of days. There is no way to save him in a matter of weeks. The task laid in front of you is too monumental for that, and to approach it sensibly will take time. With how long this will take, you will have to learn patience eventually, and it will be better for you to do it now, when your recovering body will need it most. Have I made myself clear?”

Eijiro feels his face twisting in aggravation, eyebrows drawing together and a pout tugging at his lips. There’s a few moments of silence in which he meets Aizawa’s flat, unimpressed stare, and then a huff escapes him. “So… what, then? I’m supposed to just—sit on my hands, or something? Do nothing despite what’s going on in the world?”

“You’re supposed to take the time you need,” he responds, eyes closing as he blatantly attempts to maintain his own patience. “You will have to get stronger to conquer any of the challenges put before you, and continuously throwing yourself from task to task without allowing yourself even a moment to heal from your injuries will only weaken you. Take the day to rest, get a long night’s sleep in a real bed, set out after you’ve recuperated and not before.”

Eijiro’s hands flex and clench at his sides, and try as he might he can’t make the tension drain despite his sigh. “Sir, I don’t think I can just—sit around that long.”

“Nor do I expect you to. There’s hardly a shortage of things to do in the village in the meantime. If you’re really at such a loss what to do, you can start with sitting down. No doubt you have countless questions about yourself, and the world. I’ll try to answer them for as long as I’m able.”

That—Eijiro had been so frantic to figure out what he needed to do, he hadn’t even thought of all the questions that have been threatening to burst forward like a flood since—since Katsuki had first spoken to him, really. So many that he’s never been able to figure out which to ask first, and, to be fair, he doesn’t think he’s been able to just… sit and ask them all, yet. No one’s been capable of answering them, and there’s always something else to do.

Scratching idly at the skin beneath his eye, Aizawa pushes on, offering more options to fill his day.

“I’d recommend acquainting yourself with the people in the village, it will be good practice; with limited travel and communication, there’s no one person alive who can tell you all of the evils All for One has unleashed in this kingdom. Speaking to those who will have had to coexist with those evils will reveal far more to you than I can, and it’s important to remember that there are problems on a lower scale than All for One itself. There is a fairy fountain on a hill that overlooks this village—it would be wise to touch base with her, in the event she can aid your travels. And if you’re truly incapable of taking it easy for an entire day, the village has an ancient shrine that you may be able to access.”

Done with his list, Aizawa blinks tiredly at Eijiro, gaze flat. “There should be more than enough to amuse you in the village for one day, but I will remind you again not to strain yourself, so I don’t have to confine you to the village for another day.”

Eijiro takes issue with that—it’s not like Aizawa can really stop him from leaving, but… “I… fine. You… you’ll really answer all of my questions?”

The Sheikah nods. “As many as I’m able, for as long as I can keep awake. The pains I took to ensure I would be alive for this day were effective, but they are, unfortunately, exhausting.”

Eijiro hesitates, curious and concerned. How much of a strain did he have to undertake on Eijiro’s behalf? “What… what did you have to do?”

“It’s hardly anything to write home about, to be frank. I thought I told you to sit down.” The last part is delivered in a slightly more stern tone, and Eijiro blinks, flushing just slightly as he hurries to do so. Seemingly satisfied, Aizawa deigns to answer in more detail. “The Sheikah have been pledged to Bakusatsuo for longer than we have been pledged to his descendants, the royal family. The result is that we’ve always had a special relationship with his first domain—time.”

With a heavy breath and the faintest hint of a shrug, the older man continues, “It’s likely I would have been alive to see this day even had I not taken special precautions; time has always been kind to the Sheikah, and not in a metaphorical sense. Oftentimes our people are blessed with exceptionally long lifespans. But there is also a sacred practice, cultivated and passed down since the first of our kind used it to aid Bakusatsuo in his first human incarnation: a meditative trance that slows our aging even further.”

Aizawa grimaces just slightly. “As I said, it’s nothing exciting, nor is it any sort of taxing process. But the meditation cuts into many of the hours that should typically be spent sleeping. I catch sleep when I can get it, so it will be best not to waste much more of my few waking hours if you’d like most of your questions answered.”

Nodding slowly, Eijiro finds himself fidgeting slightly, gnawing on his lip with pointed teeth. “I… Man, I honestly don’t even know where to start.”

Aizawa tips his head in acknowledgement, seemingly unsurprised. “That’s fine. Fortunately, we have time.”

“Oh, man!”

Eijiro jumps, slightly, at the sudden exclamation from beside him, jerking his head around to stare at its source—he hadn’t even heard anybody enter; it’s like the guy had melted right through the floor or something. It’s a little jarring, since everything about the man’s appearance is, well, loud, from his distinct posture and animated expression, to the bright blond hair he sports in an ostentatious gelled up style, to how boisterous his voice had been.

And yet Eijiro hadn’t so much as heard a door hinge or floorboard creak.

“I guess I shouldn’t bring your lunch for you, huh, sir?” he asks, cartoonishly blue eyes twinkling like he’s sharing a joke. “I don’t want to be responsible for you falling asleep with your face in your rice again!”

Aizawa’s apparently too tired to dignify that with a response.

The guy has a point, though; for the last half hour that they’d spoken, Aizawa’s eyes had drooped closed more often than not, and several times Eijiro would almost have genuinely believed he’d finally fallen asleep for real were it not for the Sheikah gesturing lazily for Eijiro to continue with whatever he was saying.

“Togata,” he acknowledges, sounding barely half awake. “I’ll eat later. This is Kirishima Eijiro.”

“Yep!” Togata responds, not skipping a beat. “Eri told me all about it.” He turns to Eijiro, then, as Eijiro rises quickly to his feet, and Togata smiles wide and offers an enthusiastic bow. “Togata Mirio! Honored to meet you.”

Eijiro’s mid-bow when the words register, catching him off guard. His cheeks heat up and he rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck as he flounders for an appropriate response. “Oh, I—I mean… I’m just a guy, man.”

“Sure,” he agrees easily. “But that just makes you even cooler, though, you know?”

Aizawa takes this moment to slump down in the haphazard pile of cushions and blankets that reside on his place of honor—not very traditional, but then, he doesn’t seem like a traditional guy—and the rustling pulls their attention, saving Eijiro from having to figure out how to respond to that.

“Togata, show Kirishima around the village. It would probably do him well to see what help the Great Fairy can offer him, as well. Just make sure he takes it easy, and if he tries to leave the village before a full night’s rest, I give you full authorization to stop him.”

“Sounds threatening!” Togata chirps, distinctly lacking any sort of hesitation as he stands up straighter and salutes. “You got it, sir.”

Eijiro takes offense to that order, glancing back and forth between the two, but Aizawa seems to have passed out the moment he finished speaking so he can’t even protest the lack of faith. Or the attempt to decide for him what he should do. He huffs, and Togata claps him on the shoulder, steering him towards the door.

“Come on, hero! Let’s see the sights.”

The sights turn out to be, well, not really much, but Eijiro wasn’t actually expecting much, to be fair. Togata walks him through the village, chattering the whole way about this and that. He’s kind of an odd duck, going on the strangest of tangents and making some of the most out there remarks, and he talks not just with his hands, but with his whole body. He seems to like to emphasize his words with an entire rework of his posture here, a full gesture with both arms there, a bizarre stance thrown in from time to time.

In short, he’s great. Weird on the disarming side instead of the offputting side, and his quirks just make Kirishima all the more comfortable chatting back, and getting fired up himself.

The first set of important landmarks, if you can really call them that, mostly gain their notability from gossip surrounding them. Togata introduces him to a Haya Yuyu standing outside an archery supplies shop, explaining cheerfully that she’d gotten the part-time job there because she’s the best archer in the tribe these days, but she can’t stand to actually work inside the shop because the owner spends all her time loudly and openly lamenting her failing marriage and the fact that her husband has abandoned his own archery.

Miserably, Haya shushes them, her voice low in pitch and volume as she laments, “It’s all day. ‘Show me your form, Haya. My husband’s form used to be like that.’, ‘Do you think you could hit that shot, Haya? My husband used to make shots like that without breaking a sweat.’.”

She sighs, heavily, then looks to Eijiro. “Look—pretend you didn’t hear this. Buy some arrows. I get paid for convincing people to shop in there, and I’m saving up to buy something cute for Nejire.”

“Ooh!” Togata chips in, “She’ll love that.”

“Oh, um.” Eijiro has no idea who Nejire is, nor has he taken a moment to count how many rupees he’d stumbled on in monster camps or hidden around the countryside. He does distinctly remember finding some hefty sums hidden in long-abandoned chests along the way. “Yeah, I’ll see! Once I check how many rupees I’ve got, I’ll make sure to stop by.”

“Thank you,” she replies, emphatically, before slumping down on the veranda that wraps around the shop. Togata gives a chipper wave, before once again steering EIjiro away with a hand on his shoulder.

The next place he shows Eijiro is the general store, where apparently you can find most goods from the town except for their famous fortified pumpkins—the owner’s husband, fond of growing swift carrots, is in an ongoing feud with the man who grows the pumpkins, and won’t let his wife sell them out of pride. It’s all very amusing, Togata assures him.

After that, he shows him the inn where he’ll be staying, points out a plum orchard apparently fiercely guarded by a sweet old lady, and then guides him to a dining area beside the general store. A girl maybe around nine is manning the cooking pot there, as Eri and another Sheikah girl who looks a little younger sit nearby. Togata introduces the two as Koko and Cottla, and merrily asks what’s cooking as he sits Eijiro down with the younger girls and helps Koko finish preparing lunch. Togata seems to be a natural at entertaining kids, wide gestures and silly expressions drawing delighted reactions from all the girls. Even Eri, who still seems reserved in company, watches him with starry eyes.

Koko and Cottla, who seem much more bold than Eri, are very curious about Eijiro and pelt him with questions he does his best to answer through mouthfuls of food, but Togata does a good job of keeping the conversation focused on all of them. He treats all of the events and concerns in the girls’ lives as just as grave and pressing as the topics he and Eijiro have to contribute, and Eijiro has to admit, it’s delightful to watch.

Once lunch is finished and Eijiro and Togata have helped the girls clean up, Togata makes sure Eijiro is aware of the small shrine to Bakusatsuo across from Aizawa’s home, the location of the armor shop, and the cucco coop now looked after by the infamous husband of the archery shop owner, before pulling them to a stop at the foot of a hill just up the road.

“Just up there’s the shrine, and past that is the fairy fountain. Y’can’t miss it!” He claps Eijiro on the back and gives him an enthusiastic shake for good measure, grinning. “I’ve got a shift patrolling for monsters and Yiga, but I’ll see you at dinnertime. Don’t leave the village or else, right?”

Eijiro shoots a glance at Aizawa’s home, muted irritation trickling back in at the reminder, but when he turns back to respond to Togata’s ribbing, he’s just gone. Eijiro whips his head around, trying to figure out where he went, but there’s no sign of him. Maybe the guy does just melt through the ground.

Regardless of how he does it, that’s how Eijiro finds himself making the trek up the hill overlooking the northern edge of the village alone. The path then winds into the hills a little further, steep inclines starting to cut off the view of the village as he passes the shrine and climbs further into a wooded area. What would a Great Fairy fountain look like? He just has to hope it will stand out as much as Togata assumed.

Eijiro yelps as suddenly two—creatures? Small, and bunnylike, and glowing blue with… antlers?—startle at his presence and bolt through the underbrush, and he thinks, You know what, yeah, okay, that kind of weird shit is probably a sign of a Great Fairy. Eyes now peeled for the strange or unusual, he picks his way through the woods and—there, a flash of pink.

He makes for that, woods parting to reveal the glimpse of pink as one of a few small, glowing fairies that scatter when they notice his presence, and—

—And what the hell is that?

There’s—it’s—he’s face to face with what looks to be the biggest flower bud he’s ever seen, twice as tall as he is, closed up tight with massive thorns dotting its outside. It’s, uh, definitely a sight he can’t miss, and though he can’t really say it looks like a fountain, he gets the feeling from the fairies that had swarmed around it and the unmistakable ramp made up of vividly orange fungus leading right up to its base that, well, he’s probably in the right place.

Hesitantly, Eijiro sloshes through the clear, pristine water that pools shallowly around the bud, testing his weight on the odd platform. It holds beneath his weight, so he takes the couple of steps to stand before the plant—fountain?—and… realizes he has no idea what to do here.

He lifts a hand uncertainly, but before he can do anything he’s startled by the sound of splashing and shifting, muffled from… within the plant? Then suddenly the seam between two of the leaves making up the tight bud before him push apart just slightly, and—holy shit, that’s an eye the size of his whole face peeking out at him inquisitively from the gap.

“You’re not Yuyu! Or Mirio. Or Eri. Well, now I’m curious!” chirps a bright, resounding voice, and Eijiro thinks, Oh, boy.

[hanmajoerin]

So my original plan was to write some stupid text post about Gramps grumbling about that one time InuYasha fucked up his bonsai trees and it became ✨so much more✨. This is now my first little Hanyo no Yashahime ditty!

I wanted to hold off on writing for HnY until the show started airing and we could get a better understanding of exactly what’s going on but 🤷🏼‍♀️. I did some adlibbing on Moroha’s motivation and fears, her childhood “alone,” and the OG crew being alive somewhere (🤞🏻) but hopefully you can run with this and enjoy it while we wait for October 3rd to finally come around.

This fic is titled “From Now On” and it’s a little sloppy by my own standards so I’m not sure if I would like to post it on AO3 or FF right now but it is still pretty solid and I wanted to share it with all of you!

“I...” It’s not like Moroha thought she had to practice this speech. She’d never spent a day of her life preparing for anything like this, but her surroundings were swarming with unfathomable gadgets–smells and sounds–and there were three pairs of eyes tracking her every breath. She felt cornered, like prey before the slaughter. “I... I don’t remember my parents very much,” she confessed. The sentence was one she’d uttered countless times in the past. It came with having no family but needing teachers and money. But now, Moroha had a family–three strangers who knew her parents better than she ever did–and having to admit it left her palms sweaty.

Brown eyes stayed low, finding comfort in the familiarity of red gloves until the sound of something breaking had her whipping her head upwards. The woman, her grandmother, was gasping at the confession. She chose to clutch at her chest instead of hold steady to the tray of tea she’d been bringing to the table. “Wha..?”

It was her great-grandfather who managed to bark out an entire sentence. “How on earth can you say such a thing!?”

Still, Moroha had trouble shifting her focus. She couldn’t continue, too preoccupied by watching her grandmother slowly bend down to gather the shards of glass. Hands. Her grandmother’s hands looked delicate, as if they shouldn’t be placing the broken glass back onto the serving tray. Moroha had been there before, so many times. She wondered for a moment when she'd finally picked up her last pieces. She couldn’t remember.

“That means ‘Sis is...” her uncle trailed, combing his fingers through his thick, black fringe. “And what about InuYasha? The guy’s an unstoppable force!”

Moroha swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Her grandmother stood up, walking away from the table to grab a few towels. “So your mom...”

Moroha nodded solemnly. “The night Towa went missing, there was a big fire caused by a demon. My old man left me this,” Moroha briefly motioned to her crimson cape. It had lost its magic years ago, but the sensation of her dad draping it over her head–the way he squeezed her shoulders before walking out of Kaede’s hut with her mom–that was a magic all its own. She could still see his two amber eyes gleaming; in her memories, they were always brighter than the flames. “My mom told me to stay in the village with the other kids but they were gone for a really long time. Everyone was worried and Towa, Setsuna, and I decided to go looking in the forest. That’s when we lost Towa and... and that was the last time I saw my parents.”

The air yielded to a pregnant pause. Moroha saw how words were hiding carefully behind closed lips. She could only guess that everyone wanted to speak but their sentences were paralyzed from the news. It was a lot to take in, after all. That was something she’d finished experiencing already. Clearing her throat, the quarter-demon chose to keep talking instead. “After it was over, we all searched for them. Even after the village stopped, I kept going. I didn’t think I’d ever return.” Return to Kaede’s village, see Setsuna, find Towa, be in the future, see her mom’s old world, be with the family she didn’t know she had.

Her great-grandfather was the one to break the silence again. He’d thumped his fist onto the table, two teeth peering out, strengthening a disgruntled scowl. “It’s all that demon’s fault! He was always so reckless. I mean, how many things did he break around the shrine? It’s no surprise that—”

“Father!”

Uncle Sota had risen from his chair, choosing to slap his palm against the table instead of copy the motions of his grandfather. Moroha clutched onto her robe of the fire-rat. Had Towa explained anything to them? Did they know that her parents were still...?

“Don’t you remember when the well disappeared? Without InuYasha, Sis never would have made it back. Whatever happened, I’m positive InuYasha protected her.” Hearing an uncle talk up her old man was a totally new experience.

“Besides, how can you say such a thing when his daughter is here?” Her grandmother asked, walking over and placing a supportive hand on Moroha’s shoulder. Her touch had the quarter-demon’s back straightening like a rod. “This is my granddaughter—your great-granddaughter.”

Moroha wasn’t one to gaze up while her chin hung low, but she was nervous. Would a family member hate her because of her heritage? She wasn’t a stranger to the discrimination—her fangs and claws had gotten her into a fair amount of sticky situations in the past. But the longer she stared at her great-grandfather, the warmer his features grew. Wrinkles retracted, his frown straightened out, shoulders drooped, and he eased back into the chair, crossing his arms over bright white robes. “I suppose that boy did bring something good into my home,” he muttered. Moroha couldn’t stop a small smile from forming.

“Moroha Dear,” Her grandma began with a tentative squeeze to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” Moroha nearly shouted, springing up from her chair and banging her fists onto the table. She was beginning to think that “hand banging” was a signature Higurashi family move. Shaking her head a few times, Moroha recalled the matter at hand, the reason she’d objected in the first place. Her grandma was apologizing even though Moroha was the one who’d failed to realize that her parents could be saved. It had been an entire decade and instead of dedicating it to finding them, she built a life without them.

It wasn’t long before two arms surrounded the quarter-demon, leaving her struggling to abandon them. It wasn’t that this woman felt untouchable, as a matter of fact, her yellow shirt was softer than most of the clothes she’d ever come across, but she didn’t understand why it was happening. “What are you doing?” Moroha finally asked as she stilled in her grandmother’s fierce embrace. She wondered if her own mom had been in this exact position before. Moroha chanced leaning into the touch.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the legends about the Bone Eater’s Well,” Her grandmother began, taking a deep breath. “That’s how your parents were able to meet. I still remember the first time Kagome came home, it was the one time she considered staying with us for good. Of course, she’d only been home a few hours before InuYasha burst through those doors and made a big scene. He always was so spirited and passionate; it wasn’t any surprise that Kagome started traveling between our two worlds shortly thereafter.

Their journey wasn’t easy, but they learned to support each other and fell in love. Afterwards, the well took InuYasha home to his era and Kagome remained here. We all missed your father but I was able to find peace just having Kagome near. She was restless, unable to find that same peace and when the well opened up for the last time, I gave her my blessing. I’ll never forget how she jumped into the well without looking back at me.” Moroha found her shoulders being pushed back so the two could look at one another. Her grandmother reached forward to caress her cheek. The bounty hunter swore she spotted pieces of her mom in her grandmother’s smile. Maybe the way the light from the ceiling lantern reflected in the older woman’s auburn eyes was the same too. It was all blurry. Moroha anchored herself to the floor, tucking those thoughts under her toes. That’s when her grandma started up again. “Since then, I chose to believe that your mom found the happiness she was searching for.” Tears like the teacup fragments glistened in those eyes now, adding a depth that Moroha’s mom simply couldn’t understand. “You’re my proof that Kagome lived a good life. The idea that she could–that InuYasha, too–it never crossed my mind. Moroha, things were very different for you.”

“Grandmother...”

Her grandma wrapped her back into an embrace quicker than Moroha could think. She couldn’t fight it off this time even if she tried. “It must have been difficult for you, I’m sorry.” And there it was, the sentence that left the so-called destroyer of lands a sniffling mess with hot crocodile tears and warm snot marring her ferocious features. “Even though your mother is gone, you’re our family and you are always welcome in our home.”

“But that’s the thing, Grandma! We can fix this! Aunt Kagome’s not dead, she’s still alive,” Towa exclaimed, effectively reminding Moroha that the others were still here. It left her tears drying up quickly.

“But how can that be?” Grandpa asked. “I fail to see how my precious granddaughter would just abandon her own family.”

“She hasn’t! Not really. She and the others have been trapped and now we know how to save them. We’re going to get them all back.”

Sota stood up from his chair again, abandoning his spot to make his way over to Moroha and her grandma. He placed his hand atop her head, ruffling her hair and stirring up a bunch of flyaways from her ponytail. “If there’s a way to save my sister and InuYasha, too, I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

“Really, Dad?”

“You realize this isn’t the first time the Higurashi family has dealt with a time traveling daughter,” he all but deadpanned, eyebrows pointed sharply at Towa.

Moroha felt her grandmother’s laughter as it echoed against her frame. “Yes, we’ll certainly be falling into an old routine.”

“At least the first-aid kits have gotten better over the years,” Sota offered with a shrug.

It was all so casual the way her family handled the situation. In the past, Moroha chose to stay away, but things had changed. There was new information, there was hope. If there was a way to resolve an issue then she’d face it head on. The thought guided her trademark smirk back to her face. A familiar determination began spreading through her veins. “From now on, we’ll do everything we can to find my mom and dad! We won’t let you down!”

[theobxhummingbird]

A little bit of romance. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: A bet is never Luke Patterson’s thing.

A/N: This is the post. Anonymous, I know you asked for a smut, but I don’t know how to write that. So here’s jealous Luke and I don’t really know how I feel about this imagine. I tried to be more creative, but this is all I got from my creativity. Enjoy it...I guess.🥺Thank you for your request.💕💕🤗

(GIF CREDIT TO OWNER)

-Nick? -he repeated it for the 100th time, which got Y/N to get up from where she was sat. -Yes, Luke, Nick. I don't understand why you're getting so angry about it. -Nick, Y/N, that---that---there isn't a word for him in the dictionary. -Luke, it's just a project we work on together. And we're given a speech together, what can I do? -Nothing. You'll do your job, he'll do his. But, not together. -Are you jealous? -she said it without stuttering. -Wha-Luke Patterson? Jealous? Of that Nick dude? Hah, you'll only see it in your dreams, Y/N Y/L/N. -Let's have a bet. If you don't do anything that'll do with jealousy, then I'll say sorry to you. But, if you do, you'll say sorry to me. -Fine, perfect. -his arm draped over the sofa pillow, as he crossed one of his leg over the other. He was trying to make himself sure, that he actually won't be the one to say sorry. Luke Patterson was a prideful, stubborn and a bold person, that others usually said sorry to him, because he always succeeded in proving them wrong. -I'm going to get ready. See you tonight. -she took her bag and jacket, and exited Luke's house. -You will! -he yelled after her, but she closed the door behind her, -You all will.-He said he won't get jealous.

 -Y/B/N (your best friend's name) laughed at the sentence for a half an hour. Y/N was getting ready for that time. She was taking out all the things she needs for the night, settling them on her vanity. -He's lying. His mouth will drop to the floor when he sees you tonight; just wait Luke Patterson. -I don't want either of us to say sorry. Just need him for support tonight. Because every time I work, he's in my mind and I'm more dedicated. Plus, let me tell you, Luke Patterson is always ready. If not with his mouth, with his style. -What is that supposed to mean? -All heads will turn to him tonight. He knows how to take you whole. -she sighed and looked in the mirror, -Me as well, but that won't happen tonight. I can't show him the effect he has on me. -That's right girl. You got this. -she high fived Y/N and got back to reading the magazine she found. Her family was waiting for her downstairs, as well as her best friends, who also came along for support. They were all minding their business, when steps came closer and down in front of the staircase. And there she was, in a beautiful grey, shiny dress that stayed perfectly on her body. -Wow! -You look like a princess. -Now I understand why Luke's head over heels for you. -Dear, you are the prettiest. -My eyes are blinded from your beauty. -Awww-she said and walked to hug them, -Look at yourselves. You're the most beautiful thing in my life. Just---look at yourselves. -Come on, the car's ready, and we might be late. -said her dad and opened the door for the ladies. The whole drive to the opening hall, Y/N couldn't stop playing with her hands, or her dress, or the her bag. She was nervous that her feet were frozen. Her whole mind was blocked and she couldn't wait to see Luke. They had a small fight that day, which wasn't that important, but still, he hadn't called her at all after that. But her game face was put on, when she exited the car. The other students were in every corner of the hall, and everyone's head suddenly turned to the girl, they only saw in jeans and a T-shirt a few hours ago. Y/N and her family split up when they entered, because she had to talk to the organizers, and also see Nick because they have a speech together. -Hey. -he said, walking slowly towards her with his hands in his pockets. -Hi , Nick, you need to give me the speech for- -You look stunning. -he cut her off, as his eyes trailed down her body. -Thank you so much, but you need to give me the speech for the- Again she was cut off, because Nick's glare caught her attention. He was looking somewhere behind her, not even making eye contact with her nor listening. She spun around, to see---him. Him, who immediately made a breath catch in her throat. Luke looked amazing. He had a suit, but made in his style, with chains and pins on it and ripped jeans, as well as some elegant trainers. He looked so amazing, that all the people started to whisper around each other. Even some girls, like Carrie's little group, started to slowly follow him to where he's going. After getting the speech from Nick, she walked back to the organizers, and checked to if the food and drinks are okay. Luke didn't see her at all; she disappeared in the kitchen without him noticing. -Y/N, -said the organizer, -your zipper's not closed all the way. -Oh no, I forgot to ask my mum to close it, just quickly walked out because we were going to be late. -Turn around, I'll help- -Julia, can you come please, we need you? It's important. -Go Julia, -she sighed, -I'll go to the bathroom and do it myself. Letting out a heavy sigh, she walked out of the kitchen, and that's when Luke saw her. She flipped her hair to the side, with her hands behind her back, as she sadly walked somewhere across the kitchen. Her dress flowed so nicely as she walked, that he got himself walking towards her, unnoticeably. Y/N was going to the bathroom, since she thought it's the best place where she can at least try and close her zipper. She tried to somehow push it up, so she won't be late for the speech, but couldn't, it needed more strength and the zipper was small that it slipped as she tried to zip up her dress. Suddenly, the door of the bathroom opened, and in the reflection of the mirror, appeared Luke. -Do you need a help with that? -he looked at her reflection. Y/N nodded and let her arms fall to the side of her body. He brushed away some of the hair, and positioned his thumb on her bare skin, as he trailed it up and zipped her dress. Something hitched in her stomach and it arose at the feeling. -I'll see you outside, stunner. Good luck with the speech. He had her trapped; she was trapped in Luke Patterson's hands. When her system, let her control the effect Luke had on her, she walked out to the stage. Seeing how happy her family was about her, and the way Luke couldn't keep himself from staring, encouraged her to be dominant in the speech. She talked from the heart and even more than Nick, who could barely even put into words, what was left of him to say, apart from the speech they rehearsed. She was ready, and it impressed the professors even more, and they remembered again why she's one of their best students. The audience applauded, and Nick and Y/N walked out of the stage, Nick giving her his hand for help, but she refused and basically jogged down the stairs from the stage in her heels and went to hug her family. The whole night, Luke stood at the table with Reggie, Alex and Bobby, and she always caught him staring. -Nick and Y/N could make such a perfect couple. -said one of the professors to Nick's mum, who was also a professor in the school. -I know. The girl's got potential. She's bold and determined. I think she'll suit my smart son well. -she took a sip of her drink, while Luke listened. -I'll tell Nick to offer her a dance, the music started.

 His mother left the glass and started walking towards Y/N and Nick, and Luke did as well, but if it wasn't for Bobby, who stopped him to meet their favorite idol, he would've gone to Y/N. When he saw her getting pulled to the dance floor, by a guy she clearly didn't want to dance with, his skin arose and he hardly held himself from going and beating Nick. But, he stood and observed. He observed him trying to pull her closer, and his hands trailing from her back to her waist. And that's where he lost it. Having someone being touchy with his girl wasn't his thing. He grabbed Carrie by the hand, and took Nick's when they got to him and tapped him by the shoulder, so he dances with her. He intertwined Y/N's hand with his and spun her to the dance floor, catching her close to him. The guests observed the couple, that in their eyes suited each other the most. -What are you doing? -she whispered. -A little bit of romance. -You pulled me from Nick, it was a bit embarrassing. -she said, looking at how annoyed he was with Carrie. -Embarrassing? I think I did less. No one can be that touchy with my girl. -Then I need to hear a sorry from you. -she smirked. -What sorry? -We had a bet. You lost. Now let me hear my sorry. -Huh-he let out a short laugh, -Here's your sorry, Y/N Y/L/N. Just as she was ready to hear him say it, he intertwined his hands on her waist and pulled her to his lips. In front of everyone, without a care in the world that the professors are watching them. It was a breathtaking kiss, and it left Y/N confused. Her head was messed up, but at least they proved the once who didn't suit them, that love is all a person needs to accomplish in a relationship. -You're mine, Y/N. -I think the whole school understood that. -I need you to understand only. -he said nuzzling their noses, then peeking for Nick, -And Nick guy over there. Well, I think he won't do anything anymore. -What does that mean? -she scrunched her forehead in confusion. -The boys got it covered. Let us have fun. The boys really had it covered. They pushed Nick into one corner where he couldn't escape and told him a message from Luke. -It's Luke's girl, and other's can't have a grip of her. If you ever want to be touchy with her, imagine Luke in front of you. -said Reggie and tapped the side of his shoulders, -Let's go boys.-They won't beat him up, right? -No. They'll send him a little message from me. -What message? -It's Luke's girl, and other's can't have a grip of her. -he whispered in her ear and placed a cheek on her cheek. -And Luke's right, you're his girl.

[histrionic-dragon]

The Real Fake Car Job and The Broken Wing Job

Note: May have lots of typos because my computer is suuuuuper laggy today for some reason and fixing them is extra-frustrating.

Real Fake Car Job

I like all the little bits in here about what they’d all do if they weren’t thieves/if they retired/if they would or could ever retire. Eliot just kind of assumes he’ll take over the brewpub (aww) and he makes sure that Parker and Hardison are on the same page, because he correctly guesses neither of them has thought of that (awww).

“We’re the Mackelroys,” they say, eerily synchronized. I love this. It’s part of the dynamic between Eliot and Sophie: they both get a kick out of kinda unsettling people. They’re both clearly having fun.

Also: “Acting strange? In Portland?” Heh.

Eliot’s fancy sports car appears again! Love it. --And then the world’s most ominous Home Depot run! “Are we being suspicious enough?” *Eliot hands her an axe* “Never mind.”  They are totally enjoying this.  “For future reference, you can chew right through that kind of rope.” Sophie mimes chewing.  And then--! “Any other handy tips from when  you used to *hwk*?” *throat cutting motion*  jfdkl;ajs Sophie! Don’t joke about that!  ...But also, I feel like she’s the one who he’d be least bothered by their bringing it up, for some reason. (The grammar in that last sentence is terrible, butyou know what I mean and I can’t easily come up with a more elegant way of phrasing it.)

And then she has the gall to say “Eliot, you’re what’s scaring me.”  I agree with Eliot, though, I think he could do normal better than Sophie. Sophie can play a million different kinds of normal, but they’re all roles, and she wants to have multiple roles, and ... I think Eliot could commit to a fairly normal life, albeit with some unusual hypervigilance and very distinctive skills that come out at odd times, better than Sophie could.

Crap! Cops! And they’re in the bright orange sports car that would be highly noticeable at the best of times!

Wait, she’s not really a Marshall? Or she’s planning to sell them out??  --What does Nate want with orange soda!?  --Now the real mob is here!??!?!?

*Nate dumps out the soda* “Wha-- That’s the good stuff imported from Mexico!”  Great Hardison line--which he then immediately improves by listing all the reasons Nate’s idea is crazy, then they get shot at and he’s like “yeah okay let’s go.” And they ride off into the sunset in the old car! Whoo!

The Broken Wing Job

The cuts to whatever’s happening in Japan are just great. I think this is another one for the favorite episode list.

It opens with banter! And then Parker’s hurt and going stir-crazy.... “Best meal I ever had was in a French prison”--oh DAMN, better not say that on coms or Eliot’s gonna be pissed it wasn’t his food. His food made you feel things!

I like Parker on pain meds talkign to the bear.

She’s gonna solve/prevent a crime while injured! Territorial Parker! No other thieves in her restaurant, no sir.

Now she’s on the phone with Eliot. What’s he do--  Oh. Samurai duel. ‘K.

VENTS? When you’re hurt like this? Parker.... (I admire her dedication. Really. but also...Parker...)

“You brought a gun? to my bar?” Ohhh yes territorial Parker.

I really like Amy.

Aww, Chicken Parm guy.  :( I hope she helps him somehow too.

“One of us. People who have to help.” YES! So happy and proud that Parker thinks of herself (and the rest of them) that way now.

C’mon, Parker! Mastermind her through it.

Oh no! They’re early! Ohhh crap, they were timing off her? --Oh no, she was the target all along! No!

--Pain pills in the coffee, I get it, nice.

Parker trying to do the comforting thing, even though she’s not quite sure she’s doing it right (look at her face)--very nice.

“Next time maybe mention the family business is multinational.”

And Romeo and Juliet’s dates are cops! Aha!  --She got shot! Nooo---but Chicken Parm Guy will help! Good for him.

This is a very exciting episode.

“You’re in over your head”--no, she’s over your heads. On a rig. Lurking. I betcha.

Aww, they’re giving him every dish to try. <3   And it ends on family movie night!

[wellfine]

Hey so I rambled for like a million words on Sanji’s and Zoro’s and a little bit of Luffy’s characterisation re: living for the sake of other people vs. yourself inspired by @eastdemons recent very good character analysis so I tucked it behind a read-more to spare you all

(WCI spoilers)

realised/remembered that Sanji as a child went seamlessly from being born to exist for the sake of others (his biological family), to wanting desperately to exist for the sake of others but being rejected and treated as though his very existence were a nuisance no matter how hard he tried, to finally finding a sort of unspoken crude acceptance with the Baratie and Zeff which was conditional (in his own mind) on him existing for their sake instead, that he finally had a target to project his rejected desire to be useful onto, to finally have a reason to exist and a tangible benefit he could point to - “if I weren’t here, then the Baratie wouldn’t run as smoothly, cook so nicely, defend itself so strongly”

and sure, tethering himself to that one floating restaurant meant he could never actually go out and achieve his own dreams but he was used to that, he had already accepted from childhood that his life never belonged to him, that he existed for the sake of others and self-sacrifice was naturally a part of that to the point he didn’t even consider it “sacrifice” any more but rather just the natural order of his birth. Like how you know to queue at the supermarket because that’s what your parents taught you. I don’t know if he ever even would’ve registered on a conscious level that that’s how he thought of himself? You could argue that a lot of the Straw Hats (maybe even all of them, in their own way) believe that sacrificing yourself is "natural” to do when your convictions are on the line, like Luffy’s acceptance of his fate at Loguetown, but Sanji’s is different. The Straw Hats might say, “it’s only natural to risk yourself for what you believe in,” but Sanji believes “it’s only natural that I would sacrifice myself for others.” The others all may have a sort of “put your money where your mouth is” attitude towards self-preservation (even Usopp and Nami), but moreso than any others I think Sanji says “no, the rest of you, sit down. None of you get to sacrifice yourselves, that’s foolish. Only I may die for the drama of it all”

So even at age 19 it’s not until Sanji meets the Straw Hats that he even considers the choice of living his life for himself, based on what he wants, and not what others want or need from him. Like obviously he cared about Zeff and the Baratie and he did genuinely want to see it succeed, but it wasn’t his life’s goal. He was trying to make it his life’s goal but you could see the look on his face when he talked about All Blue and traveling for his own sake. And then a bunch of smelly weird pirates crash into their restaurant and confront him with the idea that “hey, you know, your life belongs to you, and you actually have, you know, CHOICES you can make, and it’s okay for you to prioritise your own goals and live your life the way YOU want to”

You could argue that this is a recurring theme with all the Straw Hats - “personal freedom” is probably one of, if not the most prominent theme in One Piece - where most of the crew has felt like they’ve been held back from living the life they want to lead before joining the Straw Hats. Some were held back by external influences (Nami with the Arlong Pirates and Marines, Robin with the Marines again, Brook by Hogback), some by personal obstacles (Usopp’s struggles with his own cowardice, and fear of leaving the comfort of his seemingly safe village for the risk but allure of the sea). There were other members who were held back by a sense of social obligation, too - Chopper to Dr. Kureha and his memories of Hiluluk, Franky to Galley-La in general, the Franky Family, and his memories of Puffing Tom - but those were also slightly different. Chopper, who was still just a kid, all things considered, needed “permission” from his parental figure to leave home, and Franky, conversely, needed to be sure that his adoptive family-figures would be fine on their own. Sanji and Zeff obviously have a father-son relationship but Sanji didn’t need Zeff’s specific permission or approval, nor did he need reassurance that the Baratie would be okay without him - because he already KNEW he had both those things. Zeff is implied to have been trying to get Sanji to leave for a long time. What Sanji really needed was someone to tell him that he would be okay. That he could exist outside of the construct by which he defined his existence (his usefulness to Zeff and the Baratie). That this was a thing he was allowed to do. That God wouldn’t smite him where he stood if he dared to get out of bed in the morning for his own sake, and not someone else’s. And that came from meeting the Straw Hats - all of them, but Zoro a little bit more, and Luffy most of all.

Of course he still struggles with that even after joining the Straw Hats LMAO and the poor dude has a self-sacrificial streak longer than his legs. But now I’m gonna pivot into talking about how Zoro and Sanji contrast against each other in this exact regard

Of all the Straw Hats, Zoro (and I’m still not 100% up to date with the current Wano happenings so maybe we have more insight into why Zoro is the way he is but I still don’t think it could totally disrupt anything I’m about to say) is the person who is least able to identify with where Sanji is coming from but also somehow, the most?? Because Zoro is a paradox of both living fully and wholly for himself in the moment but also being someone who has dedicated his entire life to living out someone else’s dream. Like, yeah, it’s his dream, too, but it’s been made clear throughout the series that the force behind his terrifying drive is his oath to Kuina, not just his own desire to be the strongest swordsman.

But I’m not sure Zoro sees a distinction there? And I’m not sure it’s even relevant to make the distinction in the first place? Kuina has passed away, so Zoro’s own interpretation of what her dream would’ve been, how to fulfil it, and what their promise to each other means is, essentially, his own free will. Often times in fiction when you see a character living in another character’s memory they basically model themselves around what they think the other person would’ve done, but not Zoro. He doesn’t model his fighting style after Kuina’s (quite the opposite). He doesn’t train how he thinks she would’ve trained. He even went ahead and defined the parameters of their “dream” all on his own - defeating Mihawk (is that how Kuina would’ve defined “becoming the strongest swords[wo]man”?). He is, undeniably, living life however it naturally occurs to him and pursuing whatever he wants to pursue.

But Kuina is still also undeniably a fixture in his life. He still wields her sword (fingers crossed for Wano). He still thinks of her and is still driven by the bond and oath they shared when they were younger, and he still considers her father to be his mentor. He would say that he wants to become the strongest swordsman because it is his dream and also because he’s doing it for Kuina, and they would both be independently true.

And so all of this culminates into Zoro not understanding Sanji’s perspective one tiny little bit, lmao. You’d think he would because on the surface they both live for another person’s sake but when you get deeper into it they’re opposites, as is usually the way with those two. Sanji is someone who presents himself as a “lone wolf”, sort of - the strong, cool, independent “Mr. Prince” who is often separated from the other characters, working on his own. But he’s not. He defines his entire existence by his utility to others and the capacity for his sacrifice to them. That’s why he keeps TRYING to sacrifice himself for others even when it’s pretty unnecessary lmao. And Zoro is someone who readily claims to be living his life for the sake of another person, but then doesn’t give a second thought to how that person might have lived their life. He can live his own life while also living FOR someone else. That’s not a contradiction at all in his mind. Zoro has made it no secret that he would leave the Straw Hats if he had to in order to pursue his own dreams and I genuinely still think he would, as loyal as he is to Luffy (which, btw, Luffy would unequivocably support).

And so it’s why Sanji can’t understand why Zoro would fight against Mihawk knowing that he would lose, because in that moment Zoro was living blisteringly for his own sake and nothing else, because throwing yourself into a fight you KNOW you will lose simply because it’s what you WANT is the culmination of “living your own life”. To Sanji, that makes no sense, because Zoro could still live and be useful to others. Sanji completely understands dying to protect others and so thinks dying because of your own resolutions would be a “waste”. And it’s why Sanji left so easily in WCI, and why Zoro couldn’t/can’t understand that, because to Sanji it made sense in what he still believed to be true in his mind - that he ultimately only existed to be useful to others, and that his brief sojourn with the Straw Hats had been fun, but that leaving them would be inevitable, because it was too “selfish” on his part to dare to live life for himself and that the universe would correct itself eventually. He still thought that it was wrong of him to live his own life. He still, on some level, thought that his life belonged to someone else. And at least, like this, he could save the people he actually cared about (the Straw Hats) along the way, making the best of a foregone conclusion, in his mind. I genuinely think even after everything the SHs went through together it wasn’t until he saw Luffy still waiting for him that it finally clicked in Sanji’s mind that he was the sole owner of his own life and that he had a choice in what he dedicated it to.

Speaking of Luffy, I think he 100% lives his own life for himself only, even more than Zoro - he sacrifices himself for others, but only because he wants to because he personally likes those people, not because he thinks it’s the “right” thing to do - but I also think he deeply understands and appreciates Sanji’s mentality in a way that Zoro doesn’t/can’t. I think Luffy learned from Shanks that the way you act/the things you do have a broader impact on the world around you, and so living life “for yourself” is something you have to do mindfully and consciously of how that will affect other people. And I think he learned about the idea of being expected to live for the purpose of others from Sabo and Ace, and the subsequent rejection of that idea. So he fully embraces the notion of living your life for yourself only, but he does so being aware of the implications that has for the other people in your life.

I don’t know if this makes any sense or if it’s still coherent at this point I have written (checks) almost 2000 words about one piece and I’m a litte embarrassed but you know what I'm just gonna hit ‘publish’ without proof reading thanks for coming to my TED Talk i’m sorry if any of these paragraphs just stopped mid-sentence as I hopped to finish off some other sentence

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth and UARF!Billy - ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

Heart-Eyes || -

Five A.M.

Beth’s barely awake as she comes into the office, coffee in hand, only to come face to face with the widest grin she has ever seen on Hal Gates’ face. Dark eyes dancing, he relieves her of her thermos cup, takes both her arms in his hands, and swing-dances her around the cramped space where they work.

“We’ve done it, girl!”

Though abjectly confused, Beth can’t help but grin in return. “Wha’ve we done?” She wants to be just as thrilled, wants to share in the old man’s joy. “We’ve got data on white pointer mating! I’m running the compile now, we should be able to parse it and watch the video footage within an hour or two!”

She’s floored.

The shock is clear on her face, even her mouth drops open a little. Often bandied about as the Holy Grail of marine biology, great-white mating is known to exist. Despite decades of research into the habits of the species, that particular bit of knowledge has eluded marine biologists.

“Wha...? How?”

“Mate of mine, Crawford down in New Zealand has taken a fisherman’s eye-witness account on our elusive little friends, and shared video. Crawford sent me all of the data.”

“Oh, Hal.”

Dr Gates nods at her eagerly and once again promenades her around some tables, brushing past a stack of hastily shoved aside folders with charts of migration patterns, weather reports, and feeding data. Then, far more carefully, he hands her into a seat and plops down into an office chair, slapping his knees in pleasure and pride.

“Speaking of mating rituals...”

Beth laughs but blushes at the same time, eyes askance. She suddenly knows what he’s going to ask, or at least of whom.

“...And since we have so little to do until all the research is collated and complied...”

“Must we?”

“No finer time, girl.”

She holds her hands up to stave him off until she gets up, crosses the room and takes a sip of her coffee. Not exactly how she wanted to start the day, but there’s no real reason not to humour her mentor.

“Have at, den.”

“Excellent.” Hal Gates really is an inveterate old gossip.

~*~

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

Beth laughs. Okay, so this isn’t really so bad. “I t’ink I gotta say...I’m more affectionate in public. Mos’ of da time, Doctah Manderly... just doesn’t know what t’ do. Very stiff, hands in his pockets or stand at parade rest.”

The last cocktail party had been a half disaster, between trying to get William to mingle with the public attendees and not leave to check on his seals at first opportunity. The one time he surprised her was when he put a hand on the small of her back though the illusion was broken when she found that the six-foot-six man was trying to ultimately hide behind her. No amount of mock-tails were going to spare him any acute discomfort.

“Probably for da best. No offence, but he’s very definitely...ah....British.”

“None taken.” Hal offers her a wink and taps the side of his nose.

“But even behind close doors? He just... lil uptight, I guess. I sometimes wonder if mebbe he’s worried about havin’ an episode, and some affections are difficult when you have a service dog nearly t’ree-quarters ya size intent on doin’ her job, but I’d say he at least tries when it jus’ da two of us. Fingahs in my hair, brush against my arm. Da kine.”

Hal nods, knowing the specifics without having to drag them out of her.

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

"I t’ink,” she begins, carefully considering this one. “Dat anyone who loves da sea so much dat dey would give up a whole life to dedicate demself to it...got a big romantic soul. What is da ocean, if not love an’ life, an’ all dat we dream of in songs an’ poetry? I only t’ink it’s harder for him to express dat because well..”

She makes a dismissive gesture.

It isn’t that he grasps the concepts of language and expression, they’ve certainly entertained passionate arguments, verbal jousts that have filled the air with sign and countersign.

“Romantically speakin’ I jus’ don’ see him as da type dat I’m gonna find outside my window wi’ an ole boom box, playing In Ya Eyes by Petah Gabriel, ya know? But I also don’t believe he wouldn’t t’ink about it. So secretly? Him. Openly, me.”

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

“Honestly, Hal...I’d have t’ say him. He’s a planner. Wants every detail to be perfect, will second guess himself a hundred times jus’ to make sure dere no wrinkle in the research. Me? Always been da spontaneous kine, except when it came to really wantin’ to work wit’ you.”

Hal pats her lap, his face soft.

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

“Again, it would be William. I don’ know wha’ he’s t’inkin’ a lot of da time, if he’s even aware dat I am dere sometimes. An’ I don’ really wanna make a big deal about it, don’ wanna ovahstep. For me, it’s a much more difficult proposition, is like...touch is where I’m most comfortable, outside of typing endless notes or readin’ data.”

She nods toward the words scrolling along the screen. She fully disclosed her disabilities when she applied for the position so thankfully she doesn’t have to explain now. Most of the other people at the facility don’t even really notice. Except for maybe Ben who sees too much and maybe says too little. That’s to be expected though when you gather a bunch of scientists and stick them in one beautiful place.

“You want him to initiate more, don’t you?”

“I would, yeah. But dere always more important kine and so really guess it nevah really matter.”

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

“Fair question an’ I guess dat would be me. We...we agreed not to make a big t’ing about any of dis, you know how quirky everyone here is, an’ in case it doesn’t work out, we don’ want da kine t’ get weird. Especially wi’ James an’ Miranda. So if somet’ing like dis were t’ happen it’s probably because he push all my buttons an’ my tempah got da best of me, right? Could see it happenin’ over breakfast. On da beach. Mebbe by da pools.”

Which is why she tries so hard to keep her passions in check. She doesn’t want to blurt out anything that can’t be taken back.

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

“Couldn’t say,” and in those two words it is the breadth and depth of her honesty. Beth doesn’t have crushes in the same way most people do. She’s never seen anyone and instantly found herself immersed in fantasies, desires, a desperate need to be around them. She might find someone intellectually stimulating and enjoy the conversation. She might notice that something about them calls to her artist’s eye and be aesthetically pleasing in its symmetry, someone might make her laugh but she doesn’t dwell. And by the time there is the first inkling that she might want more out of a situation or relationship, she’s already become close friends. Or she watches as that object of her affection drifts beyond reach and she tells herself she’s happy because they clearly needed something more than she’s even capable of giving.

And sometimes, Beth wonders if she isn’t really broken or damaged in some way. Because she can’t even say she ever had a crush on Billy. She doesn’t know that she can say she has any expectations other than they look good together on paper, and it’s been drilled into her since birth that appearances *do* matter. “Mo’beddah you should ask him.” Gates doesn’t say anything, he only nods.

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

“William. For same-same reasons as Valentines Day, an’ da need for everyt’ing to be as exactin’ as he can make it. Like, how hard and how long it take him to find...or more likely, *breed* dem two purple neocardinas in my office?” Shrimp like the two in her tank, deliriously happy and spoiled and free of predators, are rare in size and colour, and yet… there they are. Then there’s the allegorical evidence of his severe and frothing dislike of mass consumption marketing, the complete commercialisation of every secular and religious holiday, the pastiche of feelings tacked on almost like an afterthought.

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

Beth hesitates. That’s slightly more personal than the other questions so far and truth be told she’s a little ashamed of having to answer without specific parameters. But it is a question, and she did agree to answer them with the same honesty as she offers Hal in all their other work and conversations. “I’ve always done well wi’ sensory input dat was based in kine oddah dan auditory. Smell, taste, seeing… but of alla dem, touch has always been important to me. Textures, near imperceptible data processed t’rough skin. An’ I guess dat I use dat wi’ him. Way to express ideas or sensations dat might not come across ordinarily. Enthusiasm, excitement, humour, rage, disappointment. I wan him to feel an’ understand when I don’ have da words in me, or know how to express. A lot of da time, it’s accidental or at least….subconscious.” A beat goes by. “I don’t believe he really cares much for it.”

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

This one is hard for her to answer because they aren’t really cutesy text people. Most of their days are too filled with very real world drama, service to the greater good, the understanding and conservation of the most vulnerable environments and animals within. There’s weather, there’s reports, there’s an entire litany of experiences that don’t leave much time to play around until well after hours when they can finally seek well deserved liberty. However, Billy does sometimes send her pictures of the seals doing very cute seal things, or Annie shepherding him and his charges with the boss-vibes of the Queen Mother. In the end she only offers her mentor a smile and a shrug.

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

“Oh absolutely I do. Find da whole pseudo-science of it fascinatin’, especially when da stars are not in da same position as dey were when it was invented an’ da psychological impact it has on our species is jus’ totally wild, you know?”

Beth knows that she’s the textbook definition of a Cancerian woman, and Billy does a good job providing a counter-argument on being a Libra. Further there’s a bit of an annoyance factor; he thinks junk science ‘belongs in the bottom of the bin with the rest of the rubbish.’ And he has a point, to some extent, even if she doesn’t agree with him. Not everything can be cold facts and numbers. Sometimes a little playfulness was in order and he absolutely needed to be reminded of that.

Hal laughs and shakes his head. “You’re going to do my chart then, aren’t you?” “Wit’out a doubt, Doctah Gates.” She wiggles her brows.

💙: who is more protective?

“I think objectively, I am. You know William’s troubles, and I have to keep them all in mind dough it’s not like he can forget dem, right? Some of his facts aren’t… I’ve consulted with some medical doctors and if we are careful, dere’s a lot he can experience dat he sees out of reach but I don’ like bringing dem up because I don’ want to agitate him. Only can lead t’ problems.” She does wish though that he’d trust her a little more, that he’d let go of some of his well deserved fears. That he’d let himself out of his shell and accept that even with limitations he can do many of the same things as the rest of the group does. But he seems content enough to hang back, ever the observer. And she doesn’t know if it’s her place to try to drag him into things though she might be better at it than anyone else. Miranda has told her as much.

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

Hal’s question is really a continuation of the previous one and once again she has to call Billy out on it. Because she’s never really been sick a day in her life, not since early childhood and the culmination of that was the test bite that nearly lost her the leg she keeps tucked away, hidden out of sight whenever possible. “Dat seems a small kine ingenious, he no can help his seizure disorder. An’ I feel like he really ought to have a good psychologist. I t’ink some t’erapy would do him good. Spends too much time in his own head an’ mebbe not enough taking charge of his life. I know he can be afraid of lots of t’ings but it nevah really *has* to be dat way. But I also don’ wanna push him, for same-same reasons I mention before. You can lead a shark to chum but no can make him frenzy, know what I mean?” The analogy is silly. Billy wants so much more than what he feels he has. And a darker current in the back of her mind wonders if they would still be the same if he felt he could reasonably have them. That feels so selfish and toxic and she really has no place casting judgement on him when maybe she’s no better off than he is, only expressing it differently.

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

It’s strange how perceptive he is and goes in for the killing bite. The honest truth is that neither one has said it. And neither one likely will. Billy has layers of guilt and trauma, has beliefs that she cannot get a single foothold to try and tear apart. He doesn’t feel deserving of such a finer emotion. And Beth? She has her own reasons. She doesn’t even know if love is a thing that exists or if it’s some fairy-tale people tell themselves to make it easier to get by. She believes in affection, and she believes that people bond the same way packs and pods and herds do. But she feels the concept of love is poisonous. Ruinous in the way it can destroy someone from the inside out. And how any time she’s ever thought she’d felt it, it was ripped out from her grasp. She won’t say it. She won’t hear it.

She doesn’t answer him immediately, but instead gets up and paces away, appearing as though she’s checking on some of the cameras situated around the bay. The wall that she’d left down for Hal goes back up, slamming into place.

“Research from both psychology and neurology fields have found that there are twelve different areas of the brain that light up and work together when two people are attracted to one another, releasing chemicals like dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin and vasopression. All the symptoms people experience are simply animal-instincts provided to guarantee that we as a species survive by either wanting to mate, or flee.”

💛: who believes in soulmates?

And Gates understands he’s made an error in judgement, though he’d only been trying to be helpful in a meddling kind of way. Anyone at the facility could see that Billy and Beth were two sides of a very quirky but ultimately needed coin. That they’d both changed each other in the two years she’d been a research fellow, and how they’d both blossomed for it. Well, anyone but the two of them. And this had seemed like such a good idea at first, tied into shark mating habits which he’d hoped she’d take better than she is.

Her answers have thus far matched up quite nicely with the boy’s.

Sadly, especially this one. She doesn’t turn to look at him. “There are no such things, Doctor Gates. And even if there were, statistically it would be almost impossible to meet a soul mate. Within the same general age group there are about a half a billion potential companions all over the world. One would have to travel the entirety of the world, every remote pocket of the planet. Secondly, there’s no scientific proof that souls even exist, and enough studies across various disciplines to prove that they don’t. Believing in such nonsense only makes a person unhappy. And all that aside, most mammals are not biologically programmed for monogamy and I doubt human beings are either.” Because if they were, why would anyone leave someone they claimed to love?

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

genre: vampire!au, humour, fluff

warnings: unresolved sexual tension, a lot of shakespeare lmao

word count: 2.2k

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part three 🌙 part five 🌙 part six  🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten🌙 part eleven 🌙part twelve 🌙 epilogue

A month after you started living in Ravn’s castle and you were getting anxious to go out. Not that you weren’t doing fine inside. The vampire was treating you great and you were happy to read books together, feed each other (literally) and have interesting conversations. However, you missed the fresh air outside, you missed just walking around aimlessly and wandering to new places. You didn’t want to risk your parents spotting you so the village was out of the question. The forest, though…

You wondered how to bring it up. Ravn had initially said that he doesn’t expect you to stay trapped in his castle forever, but he never mentioned it after. Maybe, he enjoyed just chilling at home. You did, too. But your adventurous spirit was eager to try something new.

As you were lost in thoughts, Ravn touched your shoulder and you jumped at the sudden contact.

“Sorry, did I frighten you?” he asked gently and sat down next to you on the couch.

“N-no, it’s fine, I was just thinking.”

“You do seem a bit antsy. Anything bothering you?”

“Why? Everything is peachy,” you quickly responded, because you still hadn’t figured out how to ask Ravn if it was okay to go out without upsetting him. You didn’t want him to think that you were ungrateful for everything he had done for you.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N,” Ravn said in a serious tone, which made shivers run down your spine, reminding you of the first time you met him. “I can’t take that.”

“I’m s-sorry,” you whispered. “I was…hoping we could go out sometime? But I didn’t want to seem unappreciative of your efforts to make me feel at ease. Which is why I had no idea how to ask for it. I’m so sorry.”

Ravn smiled softly.

“Is that it? You didn’t have to lie. I told you that I won’t keep you prisoner, didn’t I?”

You nodded slowly.

“I know you did, but still, I’m so used to being a burden that I don’t know how to act around…around someone like you.”

“A vampire?” Ravn laughed ironically.

“No. Around someone who doesn’t judge everything I do or say.”

“Oh,” Ravn was surprised at how you viewed him. He was supposed to be the monster in the story. So, why did you treat him like a saviour of some sort?

“I mean it,” you insisted once you noticed how unsure he was.

He shook his head. This emotion thing was too new and too scary for him and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Maybe the forest?” you asked quietly.

Ravn was shocked at your choice.

“Haven’t you been there a lot? Don’t you want to try something new?” he suggested casually.

“As long as it’s not anywhere near my parents, I’m game,” you chuckled.

“Do you want me to surprise you or would you rather know where I’m taking you?” Ravn teased, a wonderful idea already forming in his mind.

“Surprise me, then,” you lifted your chin and looked at him boldly.

“You trust me?” he repeated the question you had so far responded to negatively.

“I do, actually,” you decided to be honest for once, because he had warned you not to lie to him ever again. He was obviously taken aback by your answer.

“You stupid lamb,” Ravn chuckled and placed your hands around his neck. Then, wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up. “Hold on tight.”

And he began running at a speed that shouldn’t have been humanly possible. But yet again, he was no human. At one point the accelerated motion made you so sick that you closed your eyes and hid your head in his chest. You had no idea where you were going but the realization that it didn’t matter amazed you. He didn’t scare you. But this terrifying journey did. You probably should have warned him you had never travelled with anything faster than a bike. You had spent your entire life in your small village and the forest nearby. You were pretty sure you would pass out soon, but before that happened, Ravn stopped running.

“You may open your eyes.”

You did as he said and looked around. The first thing you noticed was how big everything around you was. The buildings, the towers, the cars, the bridges, the river. How…magnificent. And not in the way his castle was. Ravn’s home felt familiar in a way you couldn’t quite put into words. This place, wherever it was, felt so strange. But in a good way.

“Where are we?” you murmured nervously.

“Can’t you tell?”

You shook your head in embarrassment.

“Welcome to London,” Ravn informed you of your current whereabouts.

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope,” he laughed. “I thought you were into Shakespeare. How can you not recognize where we are?”

“I only managed to borrow and read some of his plays in my village. I’ve never seen…”

“Pictures of London?” Ravn helped you out when he saw you were struggling to find the right words.

You nodded, suddenly feeling intimidated by the vampire’s vast knowledge of the word.

 “I’ll be your guide, then,” Ravn offered you his hand like a gentleman. “Do you want to visit the Globe Theatre first? It’s a reconstruction of-“

“I know what it is,” you responded. “Again, I haven’t seen pictures, but I read about it in one of the introductions to the book of plays.”

Ravn smiled proudly.

“That’s my girl,” he smirked.

First, he’d called you his human and now this? You could swear Ravn was going to kill you. Not with his fangs but his words.

The two of you spent the morning visiting many interesting places. Starting from the Globe Theatre, where Ravn showed you around like an expert, pointing out curious facts about Shakespeare that got you staring like a wide-eyed puppy. He also led you to a couple of lovely vintage bookshops and insisted on buying you some of Shakespeare’s plays you hadn’t read.

“But you have these already in your library!” you reasonably argued.

“Yeah, but I want you to have them. Besides, they’re different editions.”

“Ravn…you really don’t have to,” you were ashamed that he was spoiling you so openly.

“Y/N…please, let me,” Ravn whispered in your ear. It was like he was asking you to get him something and not the other way round.

You finally conceded and once the two of you left the bookshop, you found yourself clutching a paper bag with Shakespeare plays. You weren’t sure how to thank him properly for doing this for you and you couldn’t exactly offer him to drink from you in such a public place, so you did the one thing that came to mind. You lifted yourself on your toes and gave him a quick but heartfelt kiss on his cheek. Ravn seemed flustered and you could swear you saw his usually pale skin turn red for the briefest of seconds.

“Thank you,” you told him, your smile full of gratitude and affection.

“It’s nothing,” Ravn coughed and suddenly found the ground beneath you very amusing. You smiled when you reached the conclusion that he could get so easily embarrassed.

“It means everything to me,” you confessed. “No one has ever given me such a precious gift.”

“Come on, we still have many places to see,” Ravn grabbed your free hand and pulled you along.

You were lucky enough to see a couple of museums associated with famous British writers. The afternoon was dedicated to the more “basic tourist destinations” as Ravn called them such as the Big Ben, Tower Bridge and the River Thames. Everything was so grand that you couldn’t help staring at it like a lost puppy. Finally, as the sun was setting, Ravn suggesting going to the London Eye, which was most magnificent at night. Its lights shining through the dark, you were completely awestruck. Suddenly, you remembered a story you must have heard around the village.

“Wait, how did you survive throughout the day?”

 Ravn laughed.

“Funny, it took you so long to notice. And if you’re referencing the foolish myth that the sun harms vampires, fear not, my lady, I am perfectly immune to daylight.”

You were relieved to hear that but a large portion of your mind was choosing to focus on the part where Ravn called you my lady, which was honestly making things to your heart that you couldn’t quite control or comprehend.

“I’m sorry for being such a dim-witted person,” you looked down in shame.

“You’re the brightest person I’ve ever talked to,” Ravn reassured you.

You faced him in the dark; the London Eye lights were giving his features a mystical, supernatural glow. He was so beautiful. You wanted to trace your fingertips down his porcelain skin and tell him how much you ached to touch him. It was insane, you knew. He was supposed to embody everything little kids were taught to fear, every dark fairytale, every warning whispered before midnight, to force the kids to finally go to bed or the scary vampire would take them away. But he was nothing like the stories. In the brief time of your acquaintance you’d seen nothing but tenderness. Who were you supposed to believe? These foolish myths or your own eyes, your mind and your heart?

“Shall we?” Ravn urged you to approach the London Eye, thus, breaking the spell he held over you. You followed him in a rush.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, pointing to a sign. “It says here it’s closed.”

Ravn smiled devilishly.

“When has that ever stopped me before?”

“Ravn…what are you planning?” you asked cautiously, but it was already too late.

His hands were already on you and the next second you had somehow ended up on top of the London Eye, with a view to the whole city, its lights making it look even more beautiful at night.

“This is…insane,” you gasped, holding tightly onto his shirt for support.

“Yeah.”

“Bite me,” you requested out of nowhere, looking into his dark eyes.

“W-what?” Ravn choked.

“Bite me, so I know I’m not dreaming.”

He laughed, amused by your reaction.

“If I bite you, we’ll both fall from here.”

You scoffed lightly.

“Thus with a bite I die,” you joked, slightly paraphrasing Romeo’s last words.

“Rawr,” Ravn teased.

You looked around the city street lights. Everything seemed so tiny from up here. And there you were, a human and a vampire on top of the world. It felt surreal.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said, completely stunned by the view.

“It really is,” Ravn confirmed, only you had no idea it wasn’t the city he was staring at…

🌙🌙🌙

Once you were back in Ravn’s castle, you walked to your room in a daze, still finding it hard to believe how you’d spent the day. But the paper bag with Shakespeare plays in your hand was the material proof that it had, in fact, been real. Ravn followed you silently and the minute your back hit the bed, he tucked you in gently.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” you asked sleepily.

You were so exhausted from the journey and you still found enough energy to care for his needs. Ravn couldn’t believe he’d met such a selfless, precious human.

“I can manage a couple more hours,” he chuckled.

“You’ve given me so much more than I deserve,” you murmured weakly.

“That’s not true,” Ravn said. “You deserve all the stars and the moon.”

“O, swear not by the moon, th’inconstant moon,” you were still able to recite Shakespeare despite being so tired and it was only fitting, considering today’s adventures.

“What shall I swear by?” Ravn played along and you could feel yourself falling, not only asleep.

“Swear by thy gracious self and I’ll believe thee.”

🌙🌙🌙

You woke up to the smell of something delicious. Eggs? Bacon? What was this enticing odour? You hurriedly put on a robe and ran down the stairs and towards the kitchen. You were struck to find Ravn cooking human food!

“What are you up to?” you asked, sneaking up behind him. To your further astonishment, he hadn’t heard you, maybe because he’d been so focused on the task at hand.

“Nooo, you should go back to bed!” Ravn scolded you. “You ruined the surprise.”

“This all for me?” you inquired curiously and wrapped your hands around his waist, which made Ravn jump in shock.

“Duh,” he replied. “I can’t eat that.”

“So, you’re just fattening me up so that you can eat me later?” you admonished him playfully.

“Oh, no, you’ve uncovered my evil plans!” Ravn groaned dramatically.

“What shall we do, then? Do you think I’ll be so easily tempted?” you continued to joke around and ran your fingers down his back, making him slightly tense under your timid touch.

“I think,” he started. “That after you try my eggs, you’ll be begging me for more.”

“Yeah?” you giggled at the double entendre. “We’ll have to see about that.”

You were still trying to distract him from cooking when Ravn turned around swiftly, grabbing your hands.

“Don’t play with me,” he hissed, aiming to sound threatening but you were having too much fun to feel any fear.

“Why not?” you pouted adorably.

“Because you’re making it really hard for me to resist you.”

“You can have me whenever you wish,” you pointed out. That was your arrangement, after all.

“Not like that, I can’t,” Ravn whispered, almost too quiet to hear. Key word: almost. “The eggs are ready. Eat up.”

You didn’t question it, because you were too hungry to care what exactly he meant by that.

To be continued…

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG183!

- I’m not sure I can manage to put it into words quite right but: sounds-wise, this episode’s domain didn’t feel mind-blowingly new, it wasn’t something that felt “Oh! I’ve never heard something like this before!”? But the echoes, grinding and scratching were timed so well, giving so much strength and gravitas to the conversations, that it perfectly scratched an itch. I could hear that there was something close to Jon and Martin, that it was big, and mostly deserted, that it stood eerily in the overall wasteland, that they were two people alone against a whole world, a whole machine with gears and a mechanism ready to crush anyone?

- I LIVE for artist!Martin giving his commentary and overall throwing shade at the Fears’ taking of artistic licence liberties:

(MAG183) MARTIN: Oh, bugger off! ARCHIVIST: Everything all right? MARTIN: Oh, no, what e–, what e–, what even is that? It, it’s like Escher ate a bad cathedral and threw up everywhere.

He had shown interest in the Stranger’s carousel upon learning that the statements had been a poem, but shots fired for that tower, uh.

- Jon and Martin were so cute starting the episode! Their quick banter was adorable!

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s a building. A tower. … In a sense. MARTIN: Oh yeah? A–and what sense might that be? ARCHIVIST: [FAINTLY OMINOUS] … The Tarot sense. MARTIN: [SPLUTTERS WITH LAUGHTER] Really? ARCHIVIST: Wha–? No? Sorry, it… felt like a good line…! MARTIN: No, no, it was, I just… I dunno, I… [FOND EXHALE] You did the look, and…! It’s fine, sorry.

Martin being IN LOVE and appreciating Jon’s cuteness! The return of Jon showing that he’s an occult/horror nerd! We had seen in season 2 that he was generally very knowledgeable about anything related to the supernatural, and in season 4 that he was into Neil Lagorio’s movies, I’m happy to get another trace of it!

(MAG076) MELANIE: So I came here to dig a bit deeper. ARCHIVIST: Really? Our… our library is extensive, but it’s hardly focused on the Second World War. MELANIE: No, but the most detailed description of the crash that I could find came from the report of a man called William W. Hay. And later in life William Hay… ARCHIVIST: Became a noted occultist, whose memoirs and researches were only ever published in a heavily edited form. And we have unexpurgated copies. MELANIE: Exactly.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Statement ends. Hm. Neil Lagorio… You ever see any of his work? DAISY: No. Not really into films. ARCHIVIST: Oh, they were… Well, let’s just say that it’s not a complete shock there was something unnatural to them. Didn’t know we had copies in the Institute, though; let alone original cuts. [CHUCKLE] Records indicate they [PAPER RUSTLING] ended up in… Artefact Storage. DAISY: Probably best that they stay there. ARCHIVIST: … Yeah. Yes, of course.

But SOB x2 since:

* Tower-in-the-tarot-sense meaning ominous stuff… and change. (While Jon knew they would soon come face to face with the choice to take the route through Martin’s domain.)

* Crying over the fact that we’ve seen and learned quite a few outside-of-the-job aspects of Jon this season, comparatively to the previous ones? He’s cute! He’s making jokes! He mentioned his student days a bit in MAG165, and visiting Upton House as a kid in MAG180! And this is happening when the world has been forked over and Jon&Martin certainly won’t survive together past MAG200, which means they have at most seventeen episodes together remaining. Martin, and we alongside him, are seeing so many different, more casual aspects of Jon, and it’s at the end of things…

- I really like how information bounced around in this episode? It felt even more dynamic than usual, quickly shifting depending on some reaction, or going from an association to another:

(MAG183) MARTIN: What, what’s the deal, though? Parts of it almost look like– ARCHIVIST: The Institute. MARTIN: Yeah…! ARCHIVIST: Yes. [INHALE] It makes sense, after all it was… built on the ruins of what Robert Smirke constructed…! MARTIN: Smirke? … What, no! But, but, surely he’s– ARCHIVIST: Dead, yeah, I mean, yes. [CHUCKLING] Very much so! This place is… an homage, shall we say. A monument. To him, and those like him, who tried to… categorise the world with themselves at the centre. In so doing, constructed the architecture of its suffering…!

Ohohoh about Martin feeling like the tower looked a bit like the Institute, and Jon drawing similarities through Smirke – the Institute being built on the ruins of a Smirke building, and the current domain being dedicated to people like him. The Institute is coming closer and weighing on their minds, isn’t it? I really like that Martin immediately worried about Smirke potentially being alive-ish, since:

(MAG138) MARTIN: “The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon. It is likely too late for me, but I will not…” [PAPER RUSTLE] Uh… [INHALE] The, hum… The letter ends there. Uh… Ap–apparently Robert Smirke was found collapsed in his study that evening, dead of, uh… [FLIPPING THROUGH PAPERS] Apoplexy. Mm. I–I don’t know how the letter reached the Archives, I mean… Well, I can guess, but…

… he had read Smirke’s last words before he died. (But Martin has seen enough by now to know that there is always a risk for people to not have actually died; on that front, we’re safe, Jon confirmed! Loving Jon’s chuckle: ah yeah, no, Smirke, “very much so” dead from Jonah.)

(Also loved the “[those] who tried to categorise the world with themselves at the centre” shade: yep! That’s West-Eurocentrism and Smirke’s little gang for you!)

- About the way the world works now since the Change, I’m curious about Jon’s wording as “the architecture of [the world’s] suffering”, since it’s echoing the title of Smirke’s statement, “The Architecture of Fear”: my understanding is that right now, the world is mostly running on a loop of people’s fears => feeding and shaping the landscape => which hurts people by turning those realised fears against them => squeezing the fear out of them => feeding the landscape, etc.

What is quite curious is the status of Smirke’s taxonomy in the current world. Jon went off on a rant about how Smirke and people who attempted to classify had been wrong all along because it was meant to fail… while he himself has persistently been using the very same classifications during this very season:

(MAG166) ARCHIVIST: Look, we can talk about it later, we’re– coming to a… “domain of The Buried”, and [STATIC RISES] I would really rather… […] God, I hate The Buried. [DEEP BREATHS] … End recording.

(MAG172) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] “Knowing”, “seeing”… i–it’s not the same thing as… understanding. Every time I try to know what The Web’s plan is, if it can even be called a plan, I see… a hundred thousand events and causes and links, an impossibly intricate pattern of consequences and subtle nudges, but I–I can’t…! … I can’t hold them all in my head at the same time. There’s no way to see the “whole”, the, the point of it all. I can see all the details, but it doesn’t… provide… context or… intention. I suppose The Web doesn’t work in knowledge, not in the same way.

(MAG173) MARTIN: That’s the avatar for this place? ARCHIVIST: Callum Brodie, thirteen years old. He guides the children through their fears of The Dark.

(MAG174) ARCHIVIST: I’m not entirely sure what you were expecting, it’s The Vast. The clue is in the name! MARTIN: Yes, all right…!

(MAG176) MARTIN: … Besides, I thought The Hunt was meant to make you go faster. ARCHIVIST: Depends on the type of pursuit. [INHALE] Besides, the chase isn’t… really the point of this particular place.

(MAG177) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Bad therapists. Let’s just say it’s the fear of bad therapists, filtered through The Spiral. BASIRA: That’s… a lot more nuance than I’ve gotten used to since everything went wrong. ARCHIVIST: Yes, well. The Spiral is nothing if not insidious. […] You just heard what The Spiral does to people, you can’t… trust her.

“constructed the architecture of [the world’s] suffering” kind of implies that they did manage something, even if it doomed the world? Is it specifically about Jonah using the division into 14 in his incantation? We’ve seen that that one had limitations, since The Extinction also got there anyway… But at the same time, true that at this point, we would still force-apply Smirke’s labels to anything anyway.

- Loved Jon sounding awfully pedantic and (fake-)poetic at the same time:

(MAG183) MARTIN: [SIGH] Bit of a mouthful. ARCHIVIST: Would you prefer I described it as a… “cascading recursion of shifting arrogance and hubristic dead-ends”? [STATIC RISES] [THE DOOR CREAKS OPEN] [CONSTANT HIGH-PITCHED FREQUENCY] HELEN: I would. [FOOTSTEPS] [THE DOOR SHUTS] [STATIC FADES] MARTIN: [SIGH] Hello, Helen.

AND HELEN HAVING THE BEST ENTRANCES. It also cleared up something for me (unless I had already realised it and forgot about it since then): the high-pitched sound we hear when she’s around is the mark of Helen and Michael, not of the corridors – if the door is open or characters are inside of the hallways, we’ll hear some of the usual crackling static, but we heard it rise when Helen arrived and fade when the door shut behind her (and same thing with her departure, it was briefly heard when she opened the door).

- Shots fired, MARTIN PLEASE:

(MAG183) MARTIN: [SIGH] Hello, Helen. Might have guessed you’d be into weird architecture. Very much your area of expertise, no? HELEN: Hmm, depends! Would you describe “petulant poet” as your area of expertise? I am weird architecture.

And Helen went equally incisive on that one, but also UUUUUH WAS IT A SPECIFIC REFERENCE TO PETER’S COMMENT ABOUT MARTIN…

(MAG158) MARTIN: I’m… saying no. I refuse! Game over. [KNIFE CLATTERING ON THE GROUND] PETER: Martin, this is not the time for petulance; there are bigger things at stake, here.

This was the only time someone referred to Martin as (acting) petulant… I mean, Helen not missing one second of MAG158 wouldn’t be surprising (she did tell Jon at the end of MAG157 that she would be enjoying the show), but ;; Little chilling when remembering Elias-Peter-Martin in the Panopticon and Martin refusing to kill Jonah there…

- I was right to suspect that Helen might have been unable to know where Jon&Martin were over their stay at Upton House, and that she wouldn’t be pleased about it!

(MAG183) HELEN: Anyway, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, but you both just vanished. ARCHIVIST: Aaah… Right, I see…! HELEN: I was so looking forward to catching up after that whole Basira and Daisy thing, but then, pfft! You both disappear. I’d be very keen to know how you managed that little trick. MARTIN: Why, it caught us by surprise too, I mean, we, we actually ended– ARCHIVIST: [FIRMLY] We found somewhere to rest. That’s all. MARTIN: … Oh, yeah. Ah, yes, hm. HELEN: Fine. Be like that. I can appreciate the particular pleasure of a kept secret. ARCHIVIST: I’m sure you can.

* Salesa’s zone seems to be protected as long as you don’t physically find it? I wonder how Annabelle managed to find it, still, since Jon only become aware of that blind spot when they arrived nearby; how did she become aware of it in the first place? Did it feel like a hole in the world’s web?

* Awww for Jon keeping the secret and conveying to Martin that they should keep quiet about it ;w;

* AHAHAHHAHA for Jon’s “aaah”, which was absolutely a mischievous grandpa sound. Jon ready to cause trouble, with a smug smile on his face.

- … I love how Helen could observe that the dynamic of the exchange was slipping out of her control (Jon&Martin knew something that she didn’t, didn’t feel threatened by her, and Jon was amused to keep it out of her reach) and immediately tried to go for the throat again:

(MAG183) HELEN: Anyway. Such a shame about Basira and Daisy. I was really rooting for them to make up. MARTIN: [SPLUTTERS] Since when? What happened to– I mean, how did you put it… a, “a quick shot to the back of her head, and then back in time for tea”, or whatever?

Martin: Forgive and forget? NO, RESENT AND REMEMBER AHAHAHAHAH.

Direct reference to the fact that Helen indeed ~offered her door to Basira~ to quickly get to Daisy and execute her:

(MAG177) HELEN: I can offer a shortcut. Take you right to that murder machine you call a partner. MARTIN: Basira… Jon can’t go through Helen’s doors, we, we couldn’t come with you. HELEN: Basira is a strong, independent woman. She doesn’t need you two holding her hand. Anyway, it’ll be dead quick. Two minutes, door-to-door, quick shot to the back of Daisy’s head, and we’ll be home before you know it!

Laughing that Martin added the tea mention (Martin, you single-track minded tea-aficionado), but I’m glad that he remembered it full well to throw it in her face; it wasn’t even a personal attack towards Martin, it was something Helen tried to do to Basira, I’m glad that Martin is still absolutely offended about it ;w;

- I felt like Jon and Helen had two definitions of “what we want”: Helen potentially talking about quick, short-term wants (even if they turn out to be self-destructive), while Jon was more about well-thought decisions and choices?

(MAG183) HELEN: [EXASPERATED SIGH] Oh, give over. I was obviously just prodding her, trying to make a point. She didn’t want to kill her. ARCHIVIST: What we want doesn’t matter much these days. HELEN: Oh, [RASPBERRY NOISE], nonsense. What we want is the only thing that matters these days. And Basira wanted to join Daisy. ARCHIVIST: She made her choice. HELEN: With your assistance. ARCHIVIST: It was still her choice. HELEN: [SIGH] What a waste. ARCHIVIST: No. [INHALE] It wasn’t.

There have been a lot of discussions about “choices” and “wants” throughout the series (with big moments in MAG092, MAG117 and MAG147), so it felt a bit nice that Jon seems to have reached a point where he could draw a line between both? Jon, Martin and Basira didn’t want this world, don’t want the way it operates and what it inflicts on them; it doesn’t mean they can’t weigh options and make specific decisions – Basira, to honour her promise to Daisy and kill the monster she had become; Jon, to not smite for revenge (and Martin, to face his own domain).

I LOVE HOW JON WAS FIRM ABOUT BASIRA’S CHOICE MATTERING ;w; It once again reminds me of Martin’s line to Simon: “I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.” (MAG151); the little things, the individual existences and choices, their own stories, still having value in the expanse of the universe…

- Martin! It’s a delight to see him so firm, having faith in Basira although he’s been so worried for her:

(MAG179) ARCHIVIST: Martin, this is what she needs. MARTIN: No, no! I–it’s…! BASIRA: It’ll… MARTIN: It’s completely– […] … We’re not doing this. BASIRA: [SOFTLY] Martin. Please. [SILENCE] MARTIN: … [SIGH] You’d better look after yourself. BASIRA: I will.

(MAG180) ARCHIVIST: How are you doing? About… MARTIN: Yeah, yeah. Yeah. I’m… I don’t know. I’m–I’m not sure how to feel; just… pressing on, you know? ARCHIVIST: I do. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Do you think she’ll be okay without us? ARCHIVIST: Oh, she’s made it this far. MARTIN: … Yeah. I just worry.

(MAG183) MARTIN: Basira is… She’s going to be okay.

And then pointing out that he was involved in the discussion too and that he wanted to know what the other two knew already and not be kept out of the loop:

(MAG183) HELEN: Oh. Is she? Do you want me to tell you what she’s been up to while you were “resting”? Where she is right now? ARCHIVIST: You don’t need to. I already know. MARTIN: I don’t. [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: She’s currently moving through, uh… “The Void.” [STATIC FADES] Hungry shadows drifting in the dark. She’s been there a long time now, struggling to find the path. MARTIN: But she will? ARCHIVIST: I think so. HELEN: Yeah, she does always seem to manage, doesn’t she? It’s impressive. Although a little bit… tempting at times.

I’m not absoooolutely sure about Basira’s status: is “the void” a space between domains, or is it a Dark domain that Basira is having trouble finding the exit of, since unlike Jon, she can’t just “know” the paths? I suspect the latter but I’m not 100% certain. If it’s indeed The Dark, that’s a close to home one for her, since she had a few brushes with it over the course of the show – the Section 31 expedition to save Callum Brodie, leading to Rayner’s death and Basira’s decision to quit the police, her research to find out more about the People’s Church of the Divine Host (as shown in season 3) and her overall worry about them, which allowed Elias to convince her that they would attempt another ritual in Ny-Ålesund, leading to her discovering what “Rayner” was and travelling there with Jon, finding Manuela and the Dark Sun mid-season 4…

;ww; for Jon having faith in Basira, too… And the fact that once again, Basira has it a bit rougher than Jon&Martin (Jon had already told Martin that it had been a difficult journey for her, before they reunited). Helen does have a point that Basira seems to manage to find her way out in general: she had successfully escaped The Unknowing on her own, she had survived The Flesh’s attack on the Institute, she had pursued Daisy in the apocalypse… Basira has already gone through Helen’s corridors (offscreen at the end of MAG143, to return to the Institute), I’m YIKES about Helen implying that it would be “tempting” to grab her. (… But at the same time, why hasn’t she done it already, if she is capable of doing it? It might be a bit more complicated than that?)

- … I love Martin, I love that he was RIGHT to point out that Helen had just waltzed in to try and steer chaos:

(MAG183) MARTIN: Look, Helen, what do you even want? Okay, you keep turning up like a bad penny and, honestly, it, it seems like it’s… it’s just to be a dick! HELEN: Gasp! I am trying to be friends, Martin. Forever is a long time. And I occasionally like to have some company that isn’t… screaming. MARTIN: … What do you even think friendship is? HELEN: I dunno, do I? The only personhood I have is from someone I ate.

It feels like Helen has REALLY tried hard to make up for the weeks(?) she couldn’t find Jon and Martin? She went extra-hard on them: first with Basira, then implying to Jon that he had manipulated her into killing Daisy, then pointing out that Basira was not safe at the moment and still at risk of falling prey to other Fears (including herself), then trying to mock Martin about his domain, trying to guilt-trip Jon for not having told him about it yet, and when she finally managed to get Martin shocked and upset… job done, byebye.

Is it that she’s trying to get Jon so riled up he ends her? “Helen” used to like Jon and to turn to him (MAG101: “Helen liked you so… there’s a lot to consider. But I will help you leave.” / MAG115: “Before, talking to you made Helen feel better.”), before she was absolutely Down With Doors And Murders (MAG146: “We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? … Don’t we, Archivist?”), is it a remnant of that? Or is it really just an attempt at confusing Jon and Martin further, feeding from them Spiral-style?

- More about Martin’s domain later, but the reveal was BRUTAL, and yet not coming out of nowhere; we knew he had one, we knew he had almost been trapped in the Lonely house in MAG170 and the question was whether or not it had been (/was still) his domain once Martin got freed from it, but there was also the question of how Martin was able to walk in the apocalypse unharmed (was it due to Jon’s proximity, Martin’s connection to The Eye as an assistant, etc.), and Basira’s own status after Daisy’s death… so, yay! Answers and clarifications, and as usual, nothing feeling like a plot-twist, just things that make sense, and that we already had most of the information about!

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Martin… MARTIN: Are there people, Jon? ARCHIVIST: What? MARTIN: Are there people in my domain? ARCHIVIST: Not many. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Do you need to do your… your thing? Make a statement about whatever’s going on in there? … I could use a moment to think. ARCHIVIST: Sure thing. Yeah, I–I’ll… [INHALE] Yeah. [EXHALE] [BAG JOSTLING] [DEPARTING FOOTSTEPS]

Sobbing a bit about Martin’s priorities (“Are there people, Jon?”) and Martin asking for a quick me-time. It wasn’t ice-cold, Martin turned it into something useful for both of them (expecting that Jon would have to give his statement anyway), but aouch, he sounded absolutely shattered inside while blank on the surface…

- Yes, yes, yes, reminder that Smirke’s categorisation is arbitrary and just like the Doctor’s theory, sometimes just doesn’t work, because it’s trying to force-apply rules and a classification over something that resists it (and because the classification is not perfect from the start), but hey, that’s most theories and classifications out there anyway, so: Escher reference, the functioning of the Tower reminding me of the Great Twisting, and the reasonings sometimes reminding me of Gabriel’s work (MAG126), plus Helen popping by – it was Spiral stuff, right?

Well! I felt like it looks like Spiral, but the Doctor’s fears by themselves:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “But it is not the fall that terrifies him, not the pain of the impacts, but the fact that none of them should be there. That it doesn’t make sense, and it must make sense, there must be a system, there must be, because if there isn’t– [THE BODY LANDS WETLY] He lands with a heavy smack onto rough limestone, and lies still, his body twisted and broken. He knows it will knit itself back together, slowly, painfully, as it always has before. But the thought of starting over, of composing yet another theory, fills him with a deep dread.”

… are more something I would identify as Eye (fear of a truth) and Hunt (fear of having to return to the start, to have to elaborate a new theory from scratch, again and again, of being trapped forever)?

It was really reminiscent of Smirke thinking back over his life, his hubris and the pride of being the one who would have found the answer, to the point where he would reject reality if it didn’t match his taxonomy (refusing to, well… do what you do with a theory: change, or evolve and perfect it when its flaws are pointed out):

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I believed then, as I still believe now, that these places I saw were the Powers themselves, expressed in their truest form, far more entirely than any ‘secret book’ can claim. And if, as I came to believe, the Dread Powers were themselves places of a sort, then surely with the right space, the right architecture, they could be contained. Channelled. Harnessed. So yes. Hubris. Not simply in that, I suppose, but in believing that those I brought into my confidence shared my lofty goals. […] Would you have me separate The Corruption between insects, dirt and disease? To, to divide the fungal bloom from the maggot? No. No, I… stand by my work. And thus, we must conclude that the only explanation is a new Power, created from what was once others, yet also distinct. And if such change is possible, how then can any “true balance” be achieved through immutable, unchanging stone…?”

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “If they are feeling very confident, they may lean down and stretch a curious tongue beyond their chipped teeth and rotten gums, desperate to add another sense to their observances – more evidence to support their declaration of what the world must be. […] They must simply study and learn, if they are to escape the labyrinth. They will be the first to escape. The one who sits in the central chamber cannot remember his name. But he knows that people called him “doctor”. He made sure of that; to ignore it would have been the greatest disrespect, and he will not be disrespected. […] He knows, for a fact, that this is the central chamber because he is the one sat here. […] They’ll all remember him forever, the first to escape the Monument. His name will be hallowed with the greats: Doctor, uh… Doctor…”

Same old pride, Leitner knew that well too (MAG080: “But I think, in my heart, I dreamed of my work becoming known. That ‘The Library of Jurgen Leitner’ would stand as a symbol of courage and protection. Hubris.”) and Gerry didn’t have many nice things to say about it (MAG111: “Flamsteed, Smirke, Leitner. Idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing.”). Loved how the statements came for Smirke’s life and was absolutely ruthless about it – but maayyybe a bit too ruthless, even? Jon didn’t express much sympathy for “fools like Smirke” either, and this is a rare case in season 5 where I find that the statement was a bit lacking in empathy for… people who were technically victims. I mean! Insufferable pedantic academics sure are a type, they’re really not having the worst life out there, but it makes me feel a bit weird, with season 5’s overall tone, that the episode had that vibe of “serves them well, they’re insufferable” about people who were technically still trapped in a domain and suffering from it?

… I still laughed a lot about the Doctor vs. Professor rivalry and how they solved their argument:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: “The doctor that lies on the floor has recovered, just enough to laugh. ‘You’re still working on mineral theory? How painfully outdated.’ A flash of genuine fear crosses the face of the professor at this dismissal, before he picks up his chunk of granite, and begins to smash the doctor’s head in, yet again.” [SOUNDS OF BRUTAL PEER REVIEW]

Academia unleashed.

(- OKAY, I HAVE TO CONFESS that when the character could only remember his title as “Doctor”, with Smirke having been mentioned earlier, my mind just jumped to Doctor Fanshawe… ;; He had left a strong impression on me, okay.)

- ;w; Over the fact that Martin got his me-time and that it was enough: he was clearly tense, but he came back with direct questions and knew what he wanted cleared up…

(MAG183) MARTIN: Finished? ARCHIVIST: Yes. MARTIN: Good. … I need you to explain something to me. ARCHIVIST: All right.

- I can’t believe that Martin Global Heartthrob Blackwood made The Eye FALL FOR HIM too:

(MAG183) MARTIN: How do I have a domain? That doesn’t make any sense. ARCHIVIST: It’s like I said. [INHALE] Everything here is either watcher, or watched. MARTIN: [SIGH] Subject or object, yes, I know, we’ve been over this. ARCHIVIST: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements, The Eye is… fond of you. You’re not getting thrown into your own personal hell, which means…

Jane, Peter, Simon, Elias, Salesa, Annabelle, now Beholding – do you have any limit, Martin.

!! I’m excited over the fact that Martin’s entanglement with Beholding stuff was acknowledged! Comparatively, Melanie had read 2 statements (MAG086, MAG106) and Basira 1 (MAG112). Meanwhile, Martin had read 12; plus, although Tim, Melanie, Martin and Basira had taken (… or tried to take) one live statement each in MAG100, Martin had also taken 3 additional full statements:

MAG084, Adrian Weiss (Corruption) MAG088, Enrique MacMillan (Buried) MAG090, Ross Davenport (Flesh) MAG095, Luca Moretti (Slaughter) MAG098, Doctor Algernon Moss (Dark) MAG100 (live), Lynne Hammond (Desolation) MAG104 (live), Tim Stoker (Stranger) MAG108, Adonis Biros (Lonely) MAG110, Alexia Crawley (Web) MAG134, Adelard Dekker (Extinction) MAG138, Robert Smirke (Eye) MAG142 (live), Jess Tyrell (Buried, Eye) MAG144, Gary Boylan (Extinction) MAG149, Judith O’Neill (Extinction) MAG151 (live), Simon Fairchild (Vast) MAG156, Adelard Dekker (Extinction)

With Simon highlighting that Beholding had compelled him through Martin:

(MAG151) SIMON: Hm! No wonder I’m so sympathetic to The Lonely. You know: this really is a place for self-discovery, isn’t it? [CHUCKLE] “Statement ends”, I suppose! MARTIN: Uh… I’m sorry? SIMON: Oh! Nothing, just my own hubris. I should have known. When I came here, I said to myself: “Simon,” I said, “you’re going to answer this young man’s questions, but you’re not going to give The Watcher a statement. You’re better than that.” But it’s a hard one to resist, isn’t it? You get in the flow of talking about yourself, and it all just… tumbles out. MARTIN: Mm, does seem like it.

Elias might have been eyeing him as back-up Archivist, too (although since then, we’ve learned of his bet with Peter which would have already been running at the time – it might have been that Elias mostly wanted to ensure that Martin wouldn’t die during the Unknowing because he’d be needing him afterwards):

(MAG116) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] What about Martin? MARTIN: What about me? ARCHIVIST: He should stay behind. MARTIN: What?! ELIAS: Really. MARTIN: Why? ARCHIVIST: Too many people might attract attention. MARTIN: No, no, I can help, I’ve been reading the statements! ELIAS: … Quite right, er, probably best he does stay behind. BASIRA: What, so you have a backup if Jon doesn’t make it? ELIAS: I’m sure that won’t be necessary.

Martin did a lot of research, read these statements aloud, took live statements, was hinted as a potential replacement; tape recorders have spawned around him like they do with Jon, even outside of statements, and Martin had been exceptionally kind towards them on multiple occasions; there had been that little moment of Martin somehow knowing that Jon was alive back in season 3 (MAG088: “It’s the not knowing, you know? I mean, Jon’s still alive. Not sure why, but I’m sure of that. But Sasha, I…”), shortly before we had learned about Jon’s own Knowing powers developing; we don’t know why and whether that was Beholding or The Web or something else, but Martin had been able to know how to get Jon out of the Coffin in season 4:

(MAG134) PETER: What does puzzle me, though, and I mean that genuinely, is… why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin, while Jon was in there. [PAUSE] It’s a question, Martin, it’s– it’s not an accusation. MARTIN: I don’t know. And I just… felt like it might help. He’s always recording, I thought… it–it might help him… find his way out. PETER: Interesting. Were you compelled? MARTIN: [SULLEN] … I don’t know. … M–maybe? I–I, I definitely wanted to do it… PETER: But? MARTIN: I’m… I’m not sure where the idea came from. PETER: You should watch out for that. Could be something dangerous. MARTIN: Sure.

… And Peter’s whole plan relied on the fact that Martin was initially touched by Beholding:

(MAG134) PETER: [BREATHES] I’m still working out some of the kinks. But I believe I have a plan. However, it requires this place, and it requires someone touched by The Beholding. Elias was, perhaps unsurprisingly, unwilling to help.

(MAG158) PETER: It’s quite simple, really…! I want to use the powers of this place to learn about The Extinction: what it’s doing, where it’s manifesting. Then we can stop it. MARTIN: And you need me for this? PETER: Correct! Without a connection to The Eye, any attempt to use it would likely end… very messily indeed! But thankfully, it just so happens that you hold such a connection. MARTIN: So that’s it… Both “lonely” and “watching”. PETER: You must admit you’re the perfect candidate. MARTIN: I suppose I am.

Beholding baby!! Now coming in an additional Lonely flavour.

- Mmmmmmmm… The way Jon put it, it seems that Beholding is consciously rewarding its servant and:

* It could be Jon trying to make sense of something else, that he doesn’t understand? Gertrude didn’t think that the Fears were able to “think” at all (MAG145: “Sometimes, I think They understand us as… little as we understand Them. We don’t think like They do.” “I’m not actually convinced they “think” at all.”); reward&affection could be primitive enough feelings for a blob of terrors to work out (Martin fed Beholding as an assistant by reading statements => Beholding grants him things in the hope of getting fed even more?), but I don’t know, I can’t help but wonder if this is just Jon humanising the Fears a bit too much? It’s curious that Beholding got “fond” of Martin precisely when Jon himself fell in love with him – could Jon’s feelings have influenced Martin’s position in the apocalypse, could Jon be having a bit more power over the landscape than he realises?

* … If Beholding is rewarding its servants, that doesn’t bode well for Elias. WELL, no, I mean: it might mean that Elias is having a Great Time as a Beholding acolyte, which means it doesn’t bode well for my desire to see Elias get absolutely wrecked and wrong about being the “king of a ruined world”. I want him to have miscalculated, damnit! x’D

- I’m having so many feelings over Martin himself being unsure of what he wants, whether it’s better to know or to remain ignorant…

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s like I said. [INHALE] Everything here is either watcher, or watched. MARTIN: [SIGH] Subject or object, yes, I know, we’ve been over this. ARCHIVIST: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements, The Eye is… fond of you. You’re not getting thrown into your own personal hell, which means… MARTIN: [QUIETLY] That one of them belongs to me. But that’s… Ho–how can I be a “Watcher”? I, I didn’t even know it existed! ARCHIVIST: But you’ve suspected for a while now, haven’t you? MARTIN: Maybe? But that’s not “watching”! ARCHIVIST: Do you want me to tell you about it? MARTIN: No. … Yes. N–no, no, I don’t know, I don’t know. [SIGH]

Is it a remnant of his discussions with Tim in season 3? He’s basically gone the reverse of Tim about it:

(MAG098) MARTIN: Y’know, I think he thinks that the distance keeps us safe, you know? Like, like, if he just makes sure that we’re not involved, we’re somehow fine. TIM: He’s an idiot. Look, we didn’t know what that door was, and it still trapped us. Ignorance isn’t going to save anyone. MARTIN: No, I mean, you’re right, I guess.

Martin has seen enough to know now that ignorance doesn’t protect anyone, but also that knowledge can be used as a weapon – that the horrors are just made to hurt. I feel like, in his situation, noping out of Jon’s statements was one of his only ways to assert his boundaries (which had been denied from him — and from others — for a long time)? But here, the situation is different; it’s about Martin’s own involvement, he knew the knowledge would hurt anyway… but it’s also his load to bear? To at least face what is happening, since he’s benefitting from it, since he’s been made complicit (without ever wanting to)? It still goes perfectly with the exploration of exploitative and oppressive systems: Martin, unknowingly and unwillingly inflicting hurt, still being in a better situation than others… while not being directly responsible for it, not wanting to benefit from it. It really makes me want to see Jon&Martin find a way to reverse or improve things, to get people out of the domains or giving them the keys to escape them, and I don’t know if I can even hope something about this ;; (On the Jon&Martin front, things are so good; but it still feels so unfair for… everyone else.)

- Martin having a domain and being classified as a “watcher” finally explains why he hadn’t been impacted by the apocalypse since the Change! He had been able to get out of the domains’ grasp even when he wasn’t around Jon (he had fallen behind at the end of MAG163, he wandered around in the Web’s theatre, he left Jon alone for most of the statements), and there was still the question of… how he was still surviving without eating, and at the same time wasn’t (at least as far as we knew) trapped in a domain:

(MAG161) MARTIN: [MIRTHLESS HUFF] What about food? ARCHIVIST: What about it? When’s the last time you thought to eat, o–or even felt hungry? MARTIN: [FAINT] What…? Wha… Uh… I don’t know. ARCHIVIST: No. Whatever is sustaining us now doesn’t need us to eat. MARTIN: That… that can’t be possible– ARCHIVIST: It’s a new world, Martin, the natural laws are whatever they want them to be. And I suspect they don’t much care to keep humanity fed and watered.

I was wondering if it was Jon’s influence, or Martin being “trapped” in Jon’s domain, and Jon had also alluded to the possibility that they were themselves trapped in their quest towards the Panopticon:

(MAG169) ARCHIVIST: “Free” doesn’t really exist in this place. MARTIN: Apart from us. ARCHIVIST: I suppose. I–in a sense, though… [CHUCKLING] how much of that is because we are trapped in our own quest to– MARTIN: Okay, let’s, let’s not dive into another… ontological debate right now, not here. ARCHIVIST: Fair enough.

And Jon had even specifically told Martin that he had a domain, shortly before Martin got almost imprisoned in the Lonely house:

(MAG167) ARCHIVIST: We all have a domain here, Martin. The place that feeds us. MARTIN: Oh. [PAUSE] Where’s yours? ARCHIVIST: [MIRTHLESS CHUCKLE] I mean, we’re… traveling towards it. MARTIN: Oh! Right, obviously. [CHUCKLING] Duh. Hum… What about me? ARCHIVIST: … Would you… like me to… ? MARTIN: No, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. ARCHIVIST: … Okay!

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: I, I didn’t want to… look too ha–, I–I–I promised I wouldn’t… know you, and, and with the fog in all–all the rooms, I’ll, I just, I lost y–, I… I–I’m sorry. MARTIN: It’s okay. ARCHIVIST: … No, I… I tried to use the… to know where you were, but… it was… You–you were faint. It was so strange, i–it took me so long just to find you…! [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] MARTIN: Jon, it’s… okay. I promise it’s okay. This place tried, it really did, and honestly I… I wanted to believe it. But I didn’t. ARCHIVIST: This… “place”, i–it… [STATIC] My god…! […] I, I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew what this place was. MARTIN: It’s The Lonely, Jon. It’s me. ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Not anymore. MARTIN: Hm! No. [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] No…! Not anymore.

And alright, that finally answers it: the Lonely house wasn’t his domain, wasn’t meant to be (but he was susceptible to it, got almost trapped in it as a “watched” although he eventually managed to reject and break free from it). His own domain was elsewhere, and Martin himself was amongst the “watchers” all along; Martin is living a bit like Helen in this apocalypse, having a fixed domain, but able to navigate elsewhere.

Aouch for Martin, since he had been encouraging Jon to smite domains’ rulers as soon as he discovered that Jon could do it; it was already murky territory for Jon himself (if the “avatars” and “monsters” just deserve to die, what about Jon?), it was awful with Callum (Martin himself drew the line at smiting a kid)… but now, we know it was directly including him, too, and that he had been fed through people’s pain all along. No wonder Helen had encouraged the smiting so hard, if she already knew they were kind of neighbours…

… Double-aouch for Jon, because he had offered twice the option for Martin to stay elsewhere, permanently:

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: M–Martin, if you… did; i–if you wanted to forget… a–all of it, stay here and just… escape. I… I would understand. MARTIN: … N–no…! It’s comforting here, leaving all those… painful memories behind, but… It’s not a good comfort, it’s… I–it’s the kind that makes you fade, makes you… dim and… distant.

(MAG181) ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry, I… It would have been nice to stay. MARTIN: [WISTFULLY] Yeah… I’d almost forgotten what it was like, you know? A bit of peace, eh! ARCHIVIST: I mean, you could have… MARTIN: No, don’t say it, Jon. You know I never would. I–I can’t just “forget” about all the people out here! Besides, I’d rather be trapped in a post-apocalyptic wasteland with you than spend one more moment in paradise with her.

And Jon probably didn’t know what Martin’s domain was exactly, back then, since we heard the knowing static kick in when he described the domain in this episode? But he probably knew, already, that Martin having a domain didn’t mean that he belonged to it as a victim, but as a ruler, and that it would hurt Martin so much. (“No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most! … Even me.”, indeed ;;)

- I AM HAVING SO MANY FEELINGS OVER THE DESCRIPTION OF MARTIN’S DOMAIN…

(MAG183) [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: It’s a small domain. A swirling mix of The Eye and The Lonely. Inhabited by a few lost souls whose fear is not of their isolation or their agonies, but that no-one… will ever know of them. That they shall suffer in silence, and be mourned by nobody. That’s why you can’t really see it. It’s why even if we do travel through it, you won’t be able to see… any of the people trapped there.

… It reminds me so much of what Martin probably experienced in his own flat, when Prentiss besieged him for two weeks and Martin was unable to contact anyone, and nobody came to check on him? Did Martin’s domain grow from his own old fears…?

It also reminds me a bit of Naomi’s brush with The Lonely:

(MAG013) NAOMI: The fog seemed to follow me as went and seemed to swirl around with a strange, deliberate motion. You’ll probably think me an idiot, but it felt almost malicious. I don’t know what it wanted, but somehow I was sure it wanted something. There was no presence to it, though, it wasn’t as though another person was there, it was… It made me feel utterly forsaken.

Overall, the description is extremely… typical from what we’ve seen of The Lonely: there was Naomi’s misadventure, Ethan disappeared and nobody even claimed his backpack (MAG048), Yetunde Uthman had “disappeared a year ago. And nobody noticed” (MAG150)…

(But from that description alone, it doesn’t sound very Beholding, despite what Jon said? I’m curious about the Eye aspect of it…)

- Can’t believe that Martin canonically turns out to be the Lonely Eyes love(hate)child, gdi. It really was a custody battle in MAG158.

- Extra-sad that Jon warned Martin that there was meaning in the fact that Martin didn’t know anything about his domain, and wouldn’t even be able to see people in there… It’s just so cruel, both for them, and for Martin, to learn that he’s been unknowingly contributing to their misery (because they fed him and he didn’t even know about them)?

Pretty sure that Martin will stay with Jon to hear that statement, at the very least ;; (Or could he ask for something more? We’ve seen Jon extracting Breekon’s statement in MAG128, I wonder if he could put something into someone’s head like Elias had done, allowing Martin to give that statement himself…)

- I’m wondering about Jon’s own domain, too, now! He said they were heading towards it, so it’s either the Panopticon, the Institute or the Archives, or a mix of those… or something close to it, on their way to it. If Martin’s domain is a mix of Lonely&Eye, is Jon’s pure Eye? A mix of the 14/15? A Web&Eye mix, given Jon’s own personal fears?

I know that Jonny (lovingly) called out the obsessive classification in this episode through Jon, who went off on a rant about the “neat little boxes”, but he’s still using the Smirke classification this season:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: It’s a small domain. A swirling mix of The Eye and The Lonely.

(AND IN THIS VERY EPISODE… Jon…)

- On the one hand: feeling directly called out by Jon’s rant about how the divisions between avatars/monsters/humans/victims wasn’t and isn’t working, that reality escapes that division because it’s much more complicated than this:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: [HEATED] Avatar isn’t a thing, Martin, it’s not–! It’s just a word. A word used by… fools like Smirke to try and sort everything into neat little boxes, to reduce the messy spray of human fear into a checklist: Human, avatar, monster, victim. Only now, now, there’s a binary. There’s finally a clear dividing line and… [SIGH] Well. I’m sorry you’re not happy with which side you’ve ended up on.

(It felt especially relevant with Callum Brodie: could we really tell that he was an “avatar” when he was still a freshly wounded kid, even if a tormentor himself?)

On the other hand, well, that was still a useful distinction to have to identify servants, and mostly, I’m not extremely convinced by Jon arguing that there is now a Clear BinaryTM in the new world, between the “watchers” and the “watched”, since:

1°) Helen herself explained the dichotomy to Martin (MAG166: “And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid.”). Given that she mostly tries to confuse them… that’s a red flag.

2°) Despite Jon defending that binary, we’ve run into plenty of examples of things… not fitting into that new classification. He himself acknowledged that Basira’s status wasn’t established yet; we’ve seen Salesa, protected by his camera from the chaos; Jon has been unable to know about Georgie and Melanie, only hypothesising that they might in what-used-to-be-London; Martin, a watcher, could still have fallen prey to another domain… That’s already a lot of special cases around that “clear dividing line”…

3°) Somethingsomethingsomething about how it’s in Beholding’s best interest that Jon believes in a clear, unchangeable, dividing line which serves Beholding’s own interests. If things feel fixed and unchangeable, then there is no point trying to fight against it or find a loophole, right?

Given that a Watcher can get trapped in another domain… does that mean that it could be the case for Jon, too? We got a threat of it in MAG172, when Jon began to give the statement of the following act – if Martin hadn’t interrupted him, would Jon have ever been able to stop?

- Confirmation that Daisy had “trapped” Basira in her Hunt! I was suspecting it since Jon’s first wording:

(MAG164) MARTIN: Is Basira alive? ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] MARTIN: Is she… in… o–one of these places? [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: She’s alive. Out there, not… trapped in a–a hellscape, but… moving. [STATIC DECREASES] Hunting. She’s… she’s looking for Daisy. She’s a few steps behind.

(MAG183) MARTIN: … What about Daisy? Or Basira? ARCHIVIST: Daisy carved through the domains of others. Basira… well… In a very real way she was a sufferer in Daisy’s domain. Maybe the only one. Hunting, following, hurting. Now Daisy’s dead, she’s… free. Sort of. She’s inherited something of Daisy’s ability to move through the other domains. For now, she’ll… feed off what she sees in them. As to whether the Eye ultimately gives her a domain of her own… I don’t know yet.

* And now, Basira seems to have a peculiar status… Is it because she killed Daisy? Is it because she killed the ruler of her domain? Jon explained that a ruler’s death didn’t change much for the domain itself, but maybe it operates differently if a victim kills a ruler (… they become the new ruler?)

* Another reminder that Jon cannot see the future.

* Big Eyeball didn’t immediately give Basira a domain, but Martin got one. I see that favouritism, uh. (Joke, it does make sense given how Martin recorded a lot of statements and had worked at the Institute for years and years.)

- I love how Jon managed to explain why he hadn’t told Martin everything, and how Martin… indeed agreed that Jon had been mostly trying to respect his wishes about not knowing ;; It’s true that Martin had been adamant about not hearing much of the horror:

(MAG163) MARTIN: J–Jon, enough! Enough! [STATIC FADES] … Please don’t tell me these things. ARCHIVIST: I… I’m sorry, I– There’s just so much! There’s so much, Martin, and I know all of it, I can see all of it, and I– It’s filling me up, I need to let it out! MARTIN: I’m sorry, but tough. Okay? Tha–that’s not what I’m here for. [VOICE IN THE DISTANCE: “No… No!”] MARTIN: I can’t be that for you, I–I just can’t.

(MAG167) MARTIN: Oh! Right, obviously. [CHUCKLING] Duh. Hum… What about me? ARCHIVIST: … Would you… like me to… ? MARTIN: No, no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. ARCHIVIST: … Okay!

(MAG183) MARTIN: You didn’t tell her any of that. ARCHIVIST: I didn’t think the metaphysics of her place in the fear ecosystem was something she’d be particularly interested in at that moment. MARTIN: Fair. But you seem very reluctant to tell anyone any of this stuff. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I did try, right at the start, but y–you didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I didn’t push it. It’s hard, I have so much knowledge but… how do I decide what people want me to share, and what they never want to know?. MARTIN: I guess that makes sense.

But Martin seems to acknowledge that indeed, Jon had been trying his best about it…

(And now, I wonder if there is still other stuff that Jon hadn’t told Martin, in the same vein…)

- First choice for Martin:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I was going to bring it up at the crossroads. Inside. I only just realised we would be going this way. […] MARTIN: I guess that makes sense. … So what did you mean about the crossroads? When you were talking to Helen. ARCHIVIST: It’s a maze in there, something between a, a Rubik’s Cube and a Magic Eye picture. I can find us the way through easily enough but… well. For us, there are two ways out. Two paths to London. MARTIN: What are the choices? ARCHIVIST: One would be a long, winding route, we’d see a lot of horrors, but remain… personally untouched. MARTIN: And the other is my domain. ARCHIVIST: Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen. MARTIN: I thought Helen was her domain, wi–with all the doors and that? ARCHIVIST: She is, but she has a… position within this pseudo-landscape, like any other. MARTIN: O–okay. [INHALE] So, so, I mean, I suppose we’ve got to do that one, right? ARCHIVIST: We don’t have to, w–we–we could just– MARTIN: What, what? We could, we could dodge around it? Take the path of denial? I guess, but… what is it you keep harping on about? “The journey will be the journey”? [SIGH] I mean… It’s pretty obvious that this one is my journey.

! Glad that Martin didn’t hesitate and immediately understood what it was about – that it mattered to do it that way, that Martin had to face it, that this is how this world works. No hesitation about it. He got a demonstration with Basira, but still, he was quick to accept it.

I’m expecting a few episodes before Martin’s domain, so… with the overall rhythm of the season, they might reach the Institute by MAG189? And Hill Top Road during Act III?

- Since Jon mentioned that the path Martin ended up choosing had:

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Eventually. It’s a shorter path, with faces we know along the way. Including Helen.

I wonder about those “faces we know”, since we’re running super-low on ~avatars~. Different options:

* Institute staff. Rosiiiie?

* Melanie&Georgie. A bit unlikely, given that Jon had trouble knowing what was the deal with them, I feel?

* Since Helen will be there, people who gave live statements to Jon and were trapped in his nightmare zoo. I’m mostly thinking about this one, especially since Jon’s “No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most! … Even me.”… (And if it’s about an internal and metaphorical journey, I feel like having to face people that Jon hurt, first unaware (he didn’t know about the nightmare zoo when he signed to become the Head Archivist), then partially unwilling but still doing it (he felt guilty about it but still hid it, still chose self-preservation instead of warning the others about it), would have its place…)

- In the same fashion, who is trapped in Martin’s domain? Unrelated people? Live statement-givers? (;; I’m thinking of Jess, who had the misfortune of being compelled by Jon and of giving a statement to Martin…)

… Given that it’s confirmed to be a “journey” for Martin too, I can’t help but squint at Jon’s wording, because. “Faces we know”. The only thing we know of Martin’s father is the fact that he looks like Martin… (MAG118: “The thing is, though, Martin: if you ever do want to know exactly what your father looked like… all you have to do is look in a mirror~ The resemblance is quite uncanny. The face of the man she hates, who destroyed her life, watching over her, feeding her, cleaning her, looking down on her with such pity–”)

- I’ll be having Annabelle’s words stuck in my head (ha) for a long time but:

(MAG181) ANNABELLE: Don’t worry, Martin. We’ll meet again. Hopefully when you’re feeling a little bit more… open-minded…! MARTIN: I wouldn’t count on it. ANNABELLE: I would. MARTIN: [SIGH]

… Was it a reference to Martin learning about his own domain and about how the world operates, his place in it? I think that Martin might be even more resolved to turn the world back at whatever cost, now that he knows that he is himself sustained by fear…

(LISTEN, THIS IS ABSOLUTELY HOW WEB!MARTIN CAN STILL WI–)

- !! Footage of Martin saying “I love you” for the first time ;w; I love how it was the thing he was certain about, both a slight decompressing joke and a true statement, a reminder that he has faith in Jon, that he has something to cling to?

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: If you’re sure. MARTIN: … I’m sure I love you. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: I love you too. [FABRIC RUSTLES] Let’s go.

(He had mentioned that he was “in love” in MAG170, I’m happy to hear him telling Jon, too!) And the fabric RUSTLED, SO LONG AND SO HARD, AND AT LEAST TWICE!! I love how the tension from right before and after the statement had faded by the end of the episode ;w; Rollercoaster of little emotions…

MAG184’s makes me think of something Leitner had said (more lore about the Fearpocalypse?), and of Vast and Corruption… with very different vibes. If Corruption, and keeping in mind that Jon has announced that they will be encountering “faces [they] know along the way”, it cooould contain Jordan Kennedy, the exterminator from Pest Control…? Especially given that both Jon and Martin had met him (Jon took his live statement, and Martin pleaded offscreen for him to get them the jar of Prentiss’s ashes to comfort Jon).

(Yessss, I am absolutely aware of the irony of still using Smirke’s categorisation after another episode in which we were told again that it is bollocks, but if Jon himself still occasionally labels the domain as one of the 15, so can I ♥)