#I'm deeply upset. and I just stated the reasons above as to why.

[iamespecter]

Words can't summarize how absolutely, monumentally pissed and devastated I am right now. My mom's business was broken in to, and according to her the 'thief' stole most of the supplies, 2 cashboxes and presumably used the back window of the store to break in.

She suspects that the thief is the only boy staff we have, because of many things, but it's mostly because he's a convicted felon with 2 counts of murder, out for "good behavior".

Other reasons include: failure to act professionally in a professional setting, not dressing in proper work uniform, bad personal hygiene (refraining from taking a bath), refusal to perform daily tasks, taking and eating parts of the food he's supposed to ONLY cook, talking back against my mom --who is his employer-- when she talks to him about these things, misogynistic and predatory behavior against the female staff (and even to my mom, I witnessed this firsthand) and even trying to conspire with my brother to take money from the cashbox FOR CIGARETTES.

And before anyone points out why my mom couldn't just "fire him" on the spot, 1) My mom was forced to take him in because he was recommended to her by a relative of ours, thinking his good behavior was good enough to be hired in a proper job, 2) HE'S A CONVICTED FELON WHO'S ALREADY MURDERED 2 PEOPLE. MY FAMILY COULD BE NEXT so right now, we're walking on eggshells around this fucker.

Why am I fucking talking about this? BECAUSE NOT ONLY WAS OUR LIVELIHOOD COMPROMISED, I'M ON THE FUCKING RECEIVING END FROM ALL OF THIS. I HAVE TO GET MONEY TODAY TO IMPROVE THE SECURITY OF THE STORE, BECAUSE THE CASHBOX --WHICH CONTAINS MOST OF MY MOM'S MONEY-- WAS STOLEN BY THIS SHIT STAIN OF A HUMAN BEING. AL-FUCKING-LEGEDLY.

I'm at a fucking loss on what to do. Everytime something slightly good happens, a worse problem presents itself at my door and it's getting harder and harder to live positively. I know this is all private matter but how can I fucking keep this all to myself when I have to deal with all of this shit life keeps throwing at me? I'm just broken.

I don't know what to do. I don't fucking know what to do.

[color-thoughts]

Warning: Murder (not you or him), Vampire Scaramouche, angst(?), yandere, attempted suicide (you), suicidal thoughts (you), power imbalance, locked up against your will, married against your will, many forcing stuff (nothing explicit), biting/drinking blood/sinking for fangs, Scara can read your thoughts, teleport, really strong. And an unnamed character.

This was so long for some reason, uhh.

Four years ago. You never found the reason and purpose of living. You were on the edge of a cliff, about to jump off and die.

Until someone held you so tightly... "My love..." A voice calls out, who?

"I'm not-" and you passed out.

You wake up groggily in a royal-ish and gothic like designed room, each and every corner lavishly designed and a portrait of a woman who looks like you lies there in the middle, with a man.

Then the said man appeared in your face.

"You're not even her..." He grumbles, "I want you to marry me." He proposes.

You were taken aback, who wouldn't be? A man abducts and suddenly proposes to marry you.

"..What—" he immediately interrupts you, "I am not giving you a choice." He states

...and that's how your life ended, where you found out that the man who abducted you was named Scaramouche. And he's not really a man per se, more of a vampire honestly.

And that just terrified you. Because what? Scaramouche is basically that one vampire your town had angered because they ended up murdering his wife!

Not only that, why would anyone save you at all? When you have done nothing for the town and the town literally wants you gone... You're left with no choice honestly.

You don't even know why it hurts you, but, you found out that the only reason he wanted to marry you was because you looked similar to his late lover... It shouldn't really hurt you.

So you're just outside, just in his garden, the moonlight hovering above you. You sighed...

Your life really ended. You can't even see the sun anymore...

The meals he ate that he demanded you to prepare for him like a wife should — terrified you...

He doesn't even love you...

And you're locked up in the castle because of his paranoia.

Sometimes you wished you could just run away.. but where? Where would you go? You have nowhere to go.

You can't really go anywhere...

You just wish you could die.

You shut your eyes and deeply inhaled.. and exhaled. Then you open your eyes only to see the one who ended your life — Scaramouche.

He looked upset.. I mean, he always looked upset, his eyebrows are always furrowed, his lips are always curved into a frown, his dead indigo eyes are always dead... And when he's more mad than ever? He'd have an eerie forced smile on his face... Or a death glare.. he's really just unpredictable, it scares you. Everything about him scares you.

"Why are you outside? I've been looking for you." He spoke, and you averted your gaze and sat up. "I was just—"

"Can you stop it?" He snapped, you're confused as your eyebrows furrowed and you look at him. "What?"

"You are aware I can hear your thoughts no? I could hear from a mile away how much you want to die.. to get away from me. It irritates me. Stop it." He demands, you avert your gaze, your lips pressing into a firm line.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He's agitated, why are you so meek?

When he wants to see his first late lover unto you, he can't, he just sees you, and it's making him annoyed that his dead heart is starting to beat because of you, it irritates him.

Every little thing you do. Why can't you just do it for the sake of doing it? Why are you doing it for him? When he does see you do something for yourself — it's even worse! It's either running away or dying. He hates it. Stop.

He couldn't help himself but hold your arms firmly, at least firmly to his standard, but bruising to you. He stares you down as you look at him, why? Why are you so different from her?

His mouth slipped that question and you're just confused even more.

The more you keep on thinking of dying, the more he imagines you dead, the more he gets scared. He doesn't want to admit it, but he fell for how you are, for how different you are, from just yourself...

Maybe fell is an understatement... He's obsessed with it.

He wants to see more of you. He wants to see you act like him... He wants you to be an actual wife of his.. someone he can live his undying life with... Someone that isn't his dead lover. He can never replace his dead lover, but he definitely can be with you.

The fact that despite all these thoughts of dying and things, you stayed with him. You didn't run when he gave you so many opportunities to, you didn't get away from him.. you practically signed up for this didn't you?

You practically wanted him to never ever want you to die and to be gone ever again...

So stop it.

Stop trying to die.

Stop.

He can't let you die. No.

His grip is still firm on your shoulders as he gets on his knees — to your level — then places his face to your neck, nuzzling it (making you shiver).

Then opening his mouth, and bite.

He just bit your neck, and your face paled as the pain hit you. As you feel his fangs sink into your neck.

You're a weak mortal. You also have a weak mindset. So.. even though it takes time, he'll definitely turn you into a vampire so you can stay with him forever.

He never wants to tell you at all, but.. he's actually done this already when he started falling for you two years ago in your four year relationship.

Whenever you slumber in the chamber he gave you, so vulnerably sleeping, your neck to your shoulders exposed for him to feed on? He just can't keep his fangs out of it. You're practically begging to be with him forever with that.

So he'll do as you told him to. He'll make you a vampire so you could be with him. You asked for it, no?

Well either way, you never really had a choice.

You begged, you begged him to stop, you tangled your fingers in his indigo locks, trying to push him away, but he won't budge.

He just continued for a solid minute and stopped, some blood dripping off his lips. As he looked at you and then the bite mark, then to you.

And with his strength, he carried you and teleported to your chambers and threw you on the soft mattress.

Then laying on top of you as he caresses your face softly, his eyes focused as he murmured things that you couldn't make out (it was a love confession).

You opened your mouth to ask, but he quickly interrupted you, he always interrupted you whenever you spoke, it honestly made you feel disrespected, but he doesn't really care about that in the moment.

"You asked for it." That's all he said before he forces you to tilt your head as he sinks his fangs into the same bite mark on your neck, and proceeds to do the painful procedure of turning a human into a vampire...

You wouldn't really be at the same level as him because you were turned into a vampire, but he liked it that way.. because that meant he'd still be superior to you and have some kind of power and control over you.

Like he said... You asked for it the moment you decided to not leave when you had a chance. And you never really had a choice.

I was inspired to do this because of a certain friend of mine (ahem ahem @tnsophiaonly) having suicidal thoughts and having a fixation to vampires (specifically Scaramouche), and yandere ig.

TO PEOPLE HAVING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS OR HAS ATTEMPTED IT, PLEASE SEEK HELP, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

And @tnsophiaonly YOU GOT INTO THAT INCIDENT BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO DIE FROM IT??? I am so tying you up after you get out of the hospital

[lost-in-fandoms]

Part 2 from this post. Here part 1. This is not very happy, I'm sorry.

cw: (sort of) discussion of dub-con of the heat variety, mentions of sexual content.

Hissing+growling

It's late afternoon when Daniel comes out of the bathroom, holding his shirt in his hands and considering if it would be worth it to put it back on again.

Max is asleep now, splayed under the sheets with a small frown on his face, but the room is still permeated by the sweet smell of hormones and the sticky one of slick and cum, and Daniel can tell the heat is not quite over yet. It makes some alpha part of him deeply content, to have their scents intertwined like this and a satisfied omega in his bed, despite all the other mixed feelings turning in his brain at the moment.

He had finally managed to talk to Christian, just before his shower, to inform him and also to ask what the fuck, and the man had confirmed what Daniel had suspected since the night before: this was not one of Max's scheduled heats. It probably was part of the reason why it had hit Max like that, hard and fast, barely giving Daniel any time to get him out of the club and to the hotel without giving their pr people a massive headache.

And now he is left with this: Max naked and spent in his bed, and a very big question mark above the state of their personal and professional relationship.

He's considering slipping back into the sheets, alpha instincts screaming at him to go back to touching his the omega, or maybe texting Michael to have a big freak out about the whole situation, when someone knocks at the door.

He makes it over as quickly as possible, knowing it's probably the food he has ordered for himself and Max, but he still hears Max shift behind him, making a small snuffling sound that makes Daniel smile.

He's still smiling as he drags the little food cart inside, turning into the room, ready to feed his the omega, a good morning on his tongue when Max hisses at him.

It almost happens in slow motion. Daniel turns towards the bed, meeting Max's wide eyes. Max recoils, sitting up so fast Daniel can almost see him getting dizzy. Max's confused expression flickers to fear for a second before shuttering closed. And then he hisses at Daniel.

Daniel instinctively steps back, raising his hands and curling his shoulders inwards, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible, brain already scrambling to find the reason why Max is upset.

"Max, what..." he can't even finish the question before Max is hissing again, pulling the sheets higher to cover his chest. His hands are shaking.

"Max," Daniel tries again, softer this time, forcing the hurt out of his voice, every alpha part of him screaming to fix this. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Max shakes his head, baring his teeth a little, pressing his back into the headboard harder.

"What did you do to me?" he bites out, voice hoarse. Images from the last twelve hours surge through Daniel's mind, Max opening up so well for him, moaning around his knot, drool on his chin, tears streaming down his cheeks. Max on his hands and knees, back arching under Daniel's hand. Max pulling at Daniel's hair, dragging his face into the crook of his neck, right above his mating gland.

"I didn't do anything, mate," Daniel answers, knowing immediately it's the wrong thing to say when Max hisses again.

"You, you...knotted me!" There's a blush high on Max's cheeks, spreading further as he spits the words, embarrassment and anger mixing in a dangerous cocktail.

"Yes? You were in heat, and you asked..."

"I would not ask!" Max interrupts him, fists closing harder around the sheets, voice growing louder and higher. "You should have left me!"

It's a hit to Daniel's ego, this straight up refusal from Max that he would even want to spend his heat with him, but he decides to save that hurt for later, having bigger problems at hand.

"Max," he says, forcing himself to keep his voice patient and level, "I couldn't have left you like that, you were in pain. And you did ask me."

"Then you should have said no!"

Daniel doesn't understand. He gets it, that Max is confused, probably still a little out of it from his heat, but Daniel had been good to him. He had treated him right. He doesn't understand where all this anger and fear is coming from. He was helping!

"Listen, if you tell me who's your usual heat buddy I will call them for you, okay? So they can help you with the rest of it." It hurts, to even suggest it. No part of his alpha instincts wants him to leave the omega alone, no part of him wants to leave Max like this, but he knows how important it is for omegas to be comfortable during their heats, and if Max isn't comfortable with him anymore, then they'll have to sort this all out another time.

He's expecting Max to relax a little, but he bristles instead, blush deepening.

"Fuck you, I do not have a heat buddy," he spits, crossing his arms. Daniel's traitorous eyes linger a little on the swell of his chest under the sheets, the bulge of his biceps, before he's able to get a hold on himself.

Wait, no heat buddy?

"Max, was this the first..."

Again, Max doesn't let him finish, hissing loud and angry at him. Daniel's brain stumbles, too much sudden confusing information, and he fucks up.

He growls back, irritated.

The reaction is immediate. Max's eyes widen and he slumps, bowing forward until his forehead is almost touching his knees, back of his neck exposed in submission even before Daniel has the chance to start being horrified in himself.

"Shit," he swears, taking a step towards the bed and then stopping when Max flinches. "Max, I didn't mean..."

Max's shoulders are shaking. Daniel feels nauseous.

"Max, I swear, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

He backs away until he's pressed against the wall furthest away, watches as Max slowly straighten his back, pulling the sheet up with him. There's a blankness on his face that wasn't there before. The room smells sour, upset omega scent overpowering everything else.

"I want you to leave, Daniel" Max says, his voice just as flat as his expression.

Daniel doesn't know if his body is supposed to feel like this, if his heart is supposed to be beating this way.

"Max, I'm sorry," he pleads, some part of him acutely aware that if he leaves this room now, they'll never be the same. He'll never be the same.

Max doesn't say anything else, just looks down at his lap, looking small in the dirty sheets, distressed scent like hands around Daniel's throat.

Daniel picks up his phone and wallet, weirdly glad he had gotten dressed again before opening the door so he doesn't have to prolong this strange walk of shame now. He feels disconnected from his own body, everything feeling wrong wrong wrong.

"You should call Christian, let him know when you'll be leaving," is somehow what his voice decides to say, instead of any of the questions and apologies his brain is currently screaming.

He just barely hears Max's first sob over the click of the door locking behind him.

[alterbarekjaerlighet]

I'm tired, I'm sad, I really don't know what to say anymore

Note: I'm not Jewish/Israeli or Palestinian, just a girl who has friends of both nationalities and whose political views lean fairly non- to anti-Zionist.

Every part of my body hurts to the core whenever I open Twitter/see the news about the assault on Gaza.

For one, I'm upset by the fact that the targeting of 1400 Israeli civilians is excused in certain leftist circles as "they're all settlers so they're fair game to be attacked in resistance, they should all go back to Brooklyn." The designation as a settler isn't incorrect because of the settler-colonial nature of the state and its history from the very beginning* (this article (https://www.972mag.com/jnf-zionism-palestinians-dispossession/) was the one that opened my eyes to this fact last year) but the people on the left saying the above aren't stopping to think about the fact that a) that's a war crime and it's wrong, and b) so many of those victims/Israelis in general are descended from refugees who fled to historic Palestine seeking safety from various countries that either did not offer safety during and after WWII or do not exist anymore and had nowhere else to go, and these people also consequently have nowhere to go, either; now they're stuck with the mess created by the founders of the state/Zionism. How can I tell my Israeli friend, with a straight face, that he has to leave? He was born in Haifa, as were his parents. Replacing one ethnonationalism with another nativist ethnonationalism is something I'm not particularly keen on as someone whose ancestral country is also being swept by a reactionary ethnonationalism at this moment. And no, wanting settler populations to be given a chance to relinquish privilege, live as equals, and actively participate in land restitution to returning Palestinian refugees does not make me a liberal Zionist, my views are nearly dramatically opposite to that, and I'm tired of having to explain my views on what a just decolonization is while citing the Palestinian scholars that discussed the very thing I just said to some random non-Palestinian internet leftist who decides to put a political litmus test as a condition for discourse on the matter when I could be focusing on drawing attention to those Palestinian scholars' words/voices on the ground.

But I'm also disgusted by portions of the left that used this horrific attack to assault Gaza indiscriminately, killing up to nearly 10000 people so far. How can you conflate the broader 75-year Palestinian struggle for return to their old homes with H*m*s? Literally all they've wanted is to go back home, have equal rights, and live their lives without dispossession. Why can't they go back home? Why is it so hard to advocate for this the same way you advocate for the right of return of Ukrainian civilians? How can I tell my Palestinian friend from Jerusalem to wait for a partial justice in a 2-state solution when said solution is being undermined by fanatics in settlements in East Jerusalem/the West Bank who run around terrorizing her and her people and committing pogroms** against their villages? How can you reasonably argue against the fact that the founders of Zionism held deeply patronizing and racist views towards indigenous and non-European peoples, particularly to Arab-Palestinians, openly spoke about their project as a colonial one and worked with colonialists, and ultimately by the 1930s (outside of a small faction of binationalists) were okay with the prospect of expulsions? How can you justify this to a person who has lived their entire life with the threat of a house demolition or the dangers of a checkpoint, or in a refugee camp outside of historic Palestine, and who can never go back to their ancestral homes again, who will likely never even be allowed to visit, and if they do, who will likely be subjected to brutalization and dehumanization on the way there?

Why can't we have freedom for a secular Palestine that is a thriving center of Jewish life and worship and Palestinian life, too? Why can't we look back at visions of Palestinian national identity that included Jews (Ashkenazi/Sephardi/Arab Jews) and Christians (Arab-Palestinian/Levantine, Armenian, and beyond) and Muslims (with deep roots in Palestine and all throughout the SWANA region) and Druze and Samaritans, too? Why can't we look back at this broader indigenous community (and yes, I use indigenous here very broadly for all these groups because they share direct links to subsistence on the land) as an example for the future instead of looking at H*m*s/any other ethnonationalist view that involves rejection or un-aliving of all Jewish people from the land?

I'm so freaking tired. I hate the general discourse going on so much.

*note: not talking about or doubting DNA results or the deep ancestry of Jewish folks in the holy land/Middle East more broadly, I'm referring strictly to structures of power and power imbalances here. I don't care what a DNA test says or what the "who came first" argument says, I care about not oppressing others

**see Huwara - Israeli newspaper Haaretz ran multiple articles describing the settler violence with these words.

[septembersghost]

I'm confused as to why ppl think things can't have a happy ending. brba did have a happy ending. walt dies but was going to die anyway. he died saving jesse and had it set up to give the money to his family. like how could there have been a happier ending?bob said a chance at a 2nd life and that teaser of after all this, a happy ending? I'm sorry, but why the hell not. if ppl are punished then why can't they have their one true love? pretty sure the lesson has been learned.

you're preaching to the choir tbh, i am always a proponent of an earned happy ending, and "happy" can have a lot of different definitions. i don't necessarily think we're owed that in any given story, but i do fiercely believe we deserve narratively satisfying endings. i've written about this many times, but when i've hated and been very hurt by endings, it's not because they're tragic, it's because they're not satisfying and don't feel right for the stories' and characters' conclusions. tragedy can be beautiful and affecting and important, but it has to mean something, not be a last minute sadistic swerve to shock and hurt your audience. i probably have tons of posts about this, but i'm going to link these: 1, 2, 3 because they all very much speak to this idea.

i was just talking to @kendalroys about the ending of breaking bad - i think it's almost underappreciated now how much humanity and even hope is in that ending, after the oppressive darkness of the rest of the story. (granite state is, to me, by far the bleakest episode of the whole show, and felina is the denouement rising out of it again.) there could've been FAR more upsetting endings, but they didn't do that. like you said, walt manages to get his money to the schwartzes, he sees skyler and is able to give her some measure of closure, along with the coordinates to find hank and gomez's burial site (which is very sad, but better than leaving them unknown out there), he sees holly one last time, and flynn from afar (say what you will about walt, i never doubt he does love his children), and then he heads off to the nazi compound with his m60 in the trunk. he realizes jesse - his partner, his victim, his surrogate family, the person to whom he's most closely connected throughout the narrative - is a captive, and rescues him as he takes all of the nazis out (and they are so evil that we are geared to root for their deaths). his plan works. he dies entirely on his own terms (he's dying already, but wasting away from the cancer in jail would definitely have been a worse ending from walt's point of view), shot by his own weapon, standing in the lab amongst the chemistry that he put above everything. even after all he did and the depths he sunk to, there's still a shred of the person he was in his final actions. it's an oddly triumphant ending for him. jesse speeds away screaming into the night, and the coda of el camino resolves that fully, lets us know he escapes quietly into the light, with a long road of recovery doubtless ahead of him, but a feeling that he is going to find that.

the reason it's hailed as one of the best endings of any show is because it's narratively satisfying. it doesn't have to be nihilistic. it doesn't have to be punishing. it's a moving conclusion for its characters.

as a student of tolkien, i personally love/cling to his concept of the eucatastrophe - that moment when all hope seems lost, and then there is a turn of catharsis and joy. he meant it in the context of fantasy (as a genre), but it can be applied to fiction more broadly.

What made a good [story] not just enjoyable or aesthetically stimulating, but deeply moving? What did all good stories have in common? Eucatastrophe “is a sudden and miraculous grace [...] It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies… universal final defeat...giving a fleeting glimpse of joy...poignant as grief.

joy sometimes is seen as...lesser, or childish, or not as profound and mature as grief, and i just don't believe that or think it's a fair assessment. like i said in my other post earlier, hope can't exist without grief, the meaning of both functions together.

i'm wary about how much i say because i've been harassed about this (by another fandom entirely lol), and logically i KNOW bcs is very rooted in noir, and noir tends to be enigmatic in its conclusions at best, but bcs is also (i know i am a broken record here, but it's true!) a love story! that distinguishes it, that's something special about it. and it's part of this same universe they've built hand-in-hand with breaking bad and el camino, and i simply refuse to think that they're going to end bcs on a sadder or more desolate note for jimmy and kim, after everything we've been through with them, after how carefully they've layered their characters and their relationship all these years, than what happened to walt and jesse. i also don't think these writers are into relative moralism and teaching the audience some "lesson" and punishing us for loving morally complicated characters (which is, like, one of my LEAST favorite approaches from storytelling. don't build a story where i'm meant to feel empathy for complex people and then tell me i was wrong to feel it!).

if ppl are punished then why can't they have their one true love? pretty sure the lesson has been learned. right. they have been punished, they have suffered repercussions for their bad actions. i'd let them have each other and their love back if i could decide. <3

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part three] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A man is murdered and things get interesting as the investigation starts. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,981 words

note: no smut in this one hehe, but things are gonna get fun. enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Hey... are you okay?" Kenji asked me a few days later, noticing the scowl on my face and realizing that I had been tapping my nail on my desk repeatedly for the last fifteen minutes. "You seem... pissed?"

I grunted, closing my eyes and slowly taking a deep breath. "I'm okay, Kenji. Just having a bad day." The others shared looks with each other, but chose not to pry. The frown on my face never left, my fists clenched as my blood continued to boil.

Then that all went away, when I felt a gentle hand against the back of my neck. I looked over at Dazai, who had lazily rolled himself in his chair over to me. He grinned. "I could see the steam coming from your ears!"

His hand never left my neck, moving until his fingers loosely wrapped around the column of my throat. Strangely enough, my anger had completely gone away when he touched me, and it felt nice to finally breathe. "With the day I'm having..." I sighed, the whole world seemingly melting away, Dazai's thumb stroking along my jaw.

Kunikida was clearly unimpressed, the man gritting his teeth. Atsushi looked shocked, his face tinged red while Ranpo and Kenji just touched their own necks gently.

"Does she like to get choked?"

"Who knows, man."

"Hey, I know what will make you feel better," Dazai suggested and I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned in and would have kissed me if it weren't for a book smacking right into the side of Dazai's head.

"Do that on your own time! We have a schedule!" Kunikida fumed while I quickly turned around to cover my face, simply to muffle down my obnoxious laughter.

"Oh, dude!"

"Kunikida! What was that for!"

"Public indecency!"

Dazai rubbed his head, whining from the pain while I just giggled behind my hands. Dazai almost looked betrayed at me laughing at him and I just shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, that's what you get for trying to play grab ass."

I purposely ignored Dazai's pouty face for the rest of the day, the man clearly upset that he didn't get to kiss me. I shook my head, glaring at him from across the office while threateningly pointing my pen at him.

"Work, dammit."

"I don't wanna! Bella, don't be so mean!"

I fixed him another glare before going back to my work, finishing up the final report for the last case we were on. After going through and making sure it was perfect, I saved and emailed it to the President, just as the door to the office slammed opened.

"He's gone!"

"Keiko?! What the he- Keiko, what's wrong?"

I stood up from my desk, my best friend standing before me in a frazzled state. She looked extremely distressed, tears falling down her face. I rushed to her, the woman collapsing into my arms as we both fell to our knees.

"He's gone!" she exclaimed before she started to sob into my chest. "He's gone! He's gone! He's gone!"

"Keiko..." I looked up at the others with wide eyes, them looking on with alarm. I turned back to Keiko, rubbing on her back as she continued to sob.

Taichi was killed. He was found in an alleyway with multiple stab wounds. Keiko had received a call from the police after his identity was discovered, the detectives revealing the tragic news to her.

"I'm so sorry, Keiko..." I said to her softly, sitting with her in one of the small areas of the office, separated by simple dividers. "... how the hell did this happen? We just saw him last night when he dropped you off at my place..."

Keiko had finished crying, but the terrible sadness in her eyes was a clear indication of how devastated she was. I clenched my fists, feeling my anger from earlier building up again.

"I'm going to have to make my statement," Keiko said softly, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to go with you to the station?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No... it's okay..."

"The thing is, you are also one of the last people to see him alive," Kunikida spoke up, standing by with Dazai and Atsushi. "You'll have to give your account too..."

Sighing deeply, I absentmindedly reached under my skirt, pausing when I didn't feel my knife against my thigh where it usually was. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head to myself before I went back to rubbing on Keiko's back in an attempt to comfort her.

Soon, Keiko and I left the Agency and headed on over to the police station. We gave our accounts of the night before when we last saw Taichi, us talking separately with a different agent.

"Now you know, Mr. Kamiya was in the Port Mafia," the agent said and I nodded. "And they have quite a bit of history with your little organization."

I didn't like the condescending tone in his voice, but I kept my cool. "Of course, but none of us have anything to do with this man's murder, and you have no evidence proving otherwise."

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Well, this is all we need. You're free to go."

I nodded before quietly making my way out of the interview room. I met with Keiko, who looked like she had been crying again and I pulled her into a comforting hug. "It's okay. This will be over soon."

Later on, I found myself back at the Agency, Keiko choosing to go home, despite my protests. My head was buried in my arms, not moving as I felt someone put their hand on my head, lightly scratching my scalp.

"Looks like the police will keep on investigating Taichi's murder," Dazai said and I peeked one eye out to find him leaning against my desk. "Thing is, I'm sure the Port Mafia will also be conducting their own investigation. Ohh, this is gonna get interesting~"

"So is it better if we stay out of this, then?" I asked, sitting up in my chair. "I mean, unless we're asked... we don't have to touch this."

Dazai regarded me for a moment, a mysterious smile growing on his face before he just threw his hands up nonchalantly. "I get it, you were friends with the guy."

"Not really," I corrected him immediately. "Keiko is my friend."

"Ohhhhh," Dazai just hummed, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Well anywho, the police are gonna have their hands full if the Port Mafia really gets involved! It wouldn't hurt to help, right?"

I hesitated, a small smile soon growing on my face as I nodded. "Sure. Let's start tomorrow."

"How about tonight instead?!" Dazai asked with a cheerful smile while I just glared at him angrily, the two of us now standing in the middle of the crime scene.

"Why do I even bother believing a word you say?" I hissed at him, attempting to kick the man but he quickly side stepped me. I gritted my teeth. "Ugh, plus it's already dark, Dazai. It's gonna be harder to find any evidence." Indeed, the only light we were getting was from the full moon up ahead, and the shitty lights above the side door of one of the buildings. "Are we even allowed to be here?"

Dazai simply nodded his head. "Of course, we were assigned to this case, afterall."

"... you told me the police were keeping it," I said, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. Was he serious?!

Dazai just smiled and threw his hands up. "Guess I was mistaken," he hummed and I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples.

"Okay so... what now?" I asked, finally looking around the crime scene. It was obviously taped off and Taichi's body was removed. All there was left was a giant stain of blood, which I now looked at with a worried face.

"Just by the nature of the crime alone, we can easily say it was a crime of passion. If this was a local gang or rival, he would have been shot, or even jumped and beaten to death. Official word is, he was stabbed over sixty times," Dazai explained, standing beside me and staring at the blood. "There is no sign of the murder weapon, no other physical evidence besides Taichi's dead body and blood. We'll have to wait for forensics to give us their final word, but I can tell... this might not be so easy to crack."

I nodded solemnly, my fists clenched tightly.

"Or... will it?"

I took in a deep breath before turning and sending Dazai a sheepish smile. "Well, we got our work cut out for us, huh."

Dazai chuckled softly. "Yeah, but that's what makes it fun."

"So Dazai," I started, crossing my arms over my chest. "I have a question."

"I may have an answer."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Silence followed after my question and I turned to look at the man. His hands were in his pockets, a weird smile on his face. "I have. Quite a few."

For some reason, the answer didn't shock me as much as it probably should. "How do you sleep at night?"

More silence, before Dazai stood before me. I looked up at him, heart thudding when I saw that same dim look in his eyes. His lips curled up and he leaned in, making me hold my breath as he whispered.

"Like a baby."

My breath hitched in my throat, eyes going wide. I licked my lips nervously, nodding my head slowly. "I see..." Just... wow.

"You know, I could have gone without seeing your ugly face, Dazai."

A look of distaste grew on Dazai's face as the newcomer came sauntering up to us. He wore black, a familiar hat resting upon a familiar head of red hair. Blue eyes stared daggers into my coworker, mouth curled into a displeased snarl.

"Ah, Chuuya! It is a small world, after all," Dazai sang, the glare in his eyes not meeting the jovial tone of his voice.

Chuuya scoffed. "I thought you'd be fucking dead by now, but of course, you always love to piss me off."

"'Cause it's so much fun!"

The two men clearly didn't like each other, but that was the least of my concerns. All I could do was stare at Chuuya in shock. Of course, Taichi was one of his subordinates, he would want to find out who his killer was and get retribution. That was just how the Port Mafia worked.

I gulped, carefully trying to back away from the two. They could stand there and bicker with each other all they want. I had to get out of here before-

"Oh wait, meet my new friend!" Dazai wrapped his arm around my neck, wrestling me to his side effortlessly as I tried to break free. He knew I was trying to escape and made sure that didn't happen.

"Hey, let me go!" I hissed, not pleased with being pulled into a damn chokehold.

"Not until you meet my old friend!"

Chuuya growled. "We're not friends, damn traitor!"

Traitor? I grew confused, eyebrows pinched even as I fought against Dazai's hold. Chuuya narrowed his eyes when he finally got a good look at me.

"Hey... do I know you?"

Crap. "Uh..." I laughed sheepishly, Dazai now confused as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

"You know each other?"

"W-well..."

"We met a few months ago," Chuuya spoke up, his eyes widening in realization before his eyes narrowed and he snarled.  "Knew you couldn't be trusted."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, making it out of Dazai's hold and holding my hands up to Chuuya. "I swear... I didn't even know about the ADA when we met. It was just as I said that night, I lost my job and was there to drink my pain away."

"Tch," Chuuya sounded, his eyes still narrowed. "And now you work with this traitorous bastard. Lucky you."

There was that word again.

"What do you mean by traitor?" I asked, at the same time Dazai spoke up.

"How the hell do you two know each other?"

Chuuya scoffed. "I fucked her."

I squeaked, Dazai's eyebrows raising.

"Interesting. I'm fucking her too."

I squeaked again, waving my hands wildly before either man could respond. "D-don't we have a murder to solve, huh?!"

It fell on deaf ears, the two men staring each other down, all before their eyes were on me and my trembling form.

"You know... I feel like we've been here before, Chuuya."

Said man snorted. "When you fucked my girls?"

"Like you haven't fucked mine?"

Okay, now I was confused. "Um... I don't understand..."

"Oh yeah!" Dazai exclaimed a bit too cheerfully, putting a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, earning a withering glare. "Chuuya and I go way back. Were the best of friends."

"No we weren't."

"We were partners! The best there was!"

"... tch."

Partners? What the hell did Dazai mean by partners? I looked between the two men, lips formed in a thin line. Then, the answer struck and my mouth fell open in shock. There was no fucking way... Dazai? I swallowed thickly, shaking my head for this was not the time or place to be thinking about this.

"Okay... I can only imagine just how deep this shit goes," I started, the men looking at me curiously. "But we have a murder to solve. Whatever... this," I gestured my hand between the two of them. "Is... it can wait. Y'all can make out or whatever later."

That was my attempt at breaking whatever tension there was, but I was the only one cackling when Dazai and Chuuya immediately protested.

"I will kill you!"

"That is not funny, bella!"

"Ugggh, I don't have the time for this. I should have known that the ADA would be investigating this, and that just pisses me off. You two should just stay out of my way," Chuuya said, hands in his coat pocket. "Though you... word is that you were one of the lasts who saw Taichi alive."

My heart dropped when Chuuya looked at me and I frowned. "And I told the police that I saw him when he dropped Keiko off at my apartment. There are cameras in the lobby that will show that I never left the apartment. We even ordered food in."

"Fuck. And there is no other evidence right now. No weapon, no hints of DNA. It's like the killer just vanished," Chuuya said to himself and I glanced at Dazai, seeing the amused look on his face.

"What if it was an ability user?" Dazai suggested. Chuuya gritted his teeth.

"Shut up! I don't need your help!"

"Really? Are you sure?" Dazai taunted the red head, quickly ducking when Chuuya swung his foot in a wide kick. Dazai didn't get hit, but the wall behind him took the damage, large cracks forming on the surface. I swallowed thickly. Just how strong was Chuuya?

"H-hey," I started nervously, foolishly getting between the two men before they could start a fight. "We're after the same goal, right? Why don't we just... work together?" The fierce glares I got made me shrink. "O-o-or! Or not! That's fine! Just don't fight!"

"Bella is right... fighting is so beneath me," Dazai said wistfully and I sighed deeply.

"Dazai, I'm being serious. This man was my best friend's boyfriend. I want to find his killer too."

"Just stay out of it," Chuuya growled. "This has nothing to do with either of you. The Port Mafia will handle this."

"Let's make it a race then." Both Chuuya and I were dumbfounded as we looked at Dazai, waiting for him to continue. "A competition to see who figures this out, the ADA or the Port Mafia."

"Dazai... what the hell?" I asked in disbelief, Chuuya stepped closer to him.

"What's the prize?"

Dazai smirked, raising a bandaged hand and pointing right to me. "Our bella."

My jaw dropped. "You're fucking kidding me?"

"No," Dazai answered rather seriously. "I'm not."

Chuuya is strangely quiet, his unreadable eyes now trained on me. I fidgeted under his gaze, looking away to find Dazai staring at me all the same. I shivered. I hated this; hated being part of such a stupid competition as a prize, and I hated that I fucking loved it. I screwed my eyes shut.

"Deal," Chuuya finally said and I gasped when I felt his familiar leather clad fingers cup my face, him moving my head to make me look at him. "Gotta say, I didn't expect to see you again, but I'm glad our paths have crossed a second time." I became extremely flustered and Chuuya smirked. "Tell me, Dazai. What was it like having my sloppy seconds?"

I gasped sharply with Dazai only laughing darkly, suddenly feeling his presence behind me. "Can't say it was too bad..." he answered and I just completely clocked out, breath hitching as I felt a bit embarrassed. And turned on. They knew exactly what to say to get me riled up.

"Okay, I'm leaving! It's late and I still haven't eaten dinner yet! Bye!" I was frantic trying to rush away from them as fast as I could. I didn't even turn back when Dazai called after me.

"See you tomorrow, bella!" Dazai chuckled softly, watching me disappear, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"A race? Really?" Chuuya asked incredulously, eyes piercing as he stared at his old partner.

"It will just make this all the more fun," Dazai hummed.

"You're a bastard," Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just stay out of my way. Taichi getting himself killed just ruined the investigation we had on him."

"Oh?" Dazai raised his eyebrows, amused. "Was he being a naughty boy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dazai."

-End

I have this headcanon that Dazai and Chuuya definitely stole each other's girls and even shared them and had threesomes when they were partners and ya'll CANNOT tell me otherwise.

[hopeymchope]

Hey, what do you think of Matsuda? He's sort of an asshole character, but I think he's the one who works best for me. Someone tried to argue with me that he was abusive with Ryouko—which I think is somewhat true for most of the novel—so he deserved to die like he did (this statement horrified me), but I always saw how Matsuda treated Ryouko as like, an unhealthy coping mechanism. I don't think its a stretch to say that Junko was abusive towards Matsuda in some ways, so Matsuda being toxic back at her seems mainly like an unhealthy way to deal with his complex feelings on her. Obviously, doesn't make how he treats Ryouko okay, as Ryouko does not remember doing anything Junko did, so it was definitely unfair of Matsuda to take it out on her, but... I don't know, it seemed more like... reactive abuse I think is the term, than anything else, only turning into just abuse once Junko lost her memories. But when I made this argument, and said that I thought Junko in some ways abused Matsuda, the person who I was replying to completely disagreed, and insisted that Matsuda was the solely bad one and that Junko killing him wasn't abusive and he deserved that. Which, really upset me. I stopped replying after a while but, it was very upsetting. It was also hard to understand them through their typos, and they got really upset at me when I misunderstood something they said. I think even if Matsuda was the only one solely abusive or toxic in the relationship, he still didn't deserve to die, especially how he did, especially so cruelly, because I really do believe in restorative justice. But the person I was talking to completely disagreed with that, too. This was all on a fic I wrote, BTW, one I was really proud of, and these were some of the only comments I got, so I was really discouraged. I really liked what I wrote but they hated it, and said all this stuff about Matsuda that upset me. All this to say, do you think I'm being unreasonable? I think Matsuda has definitely made mistakes, but he still didn't deserve what Junko put him through, but am I just biased because I like Matsuda? He's definitely an asshole, but I always sort of thought he was one of the more sympathetic assholes in DR.

I never liked Matsuda, but when we ultimately understand that his actions were driven by his (deeply misguided) love for someone he's cared about his entire life, I definitely felt somewhat more sympathetic towards him. 

Of course, we don't know much about how/why he loves Junko, and being in love with Miss Enoshima seems like a major friggin’ warning flag. Like, what, - did he just connect with her because they both fucking hate people and don't care what happens to them? ....Personally, though, I gave him a little more credit than that. I felt like he probably knew her before she became so sick of how predictable everything was to her. So I thought Matsuda probably loved her from childhood because he knew her when she wasn't so twisted.

When I first read Danganronpa Zero, I interpreted Matsuda's shitty treatment of Ryoko as being his way of punishing her for keeping Junko away. I figured he never considered Ryoko to be a real person - she was just the false face that was holding back Junko, the person he actually loves. So to him, what did it matter if he treated her like shit? She wasn't real anyway, right? I can imagine him seeing it that way. He can have a very clinical and detached view of things.

But I think your interpretation is also valid - I mean, I doubt Junko was the kind of person to be openly affectionate towards anybody, no matter how she felt about them. After all, how’s that gonna get her the precious Despair she longs for?! It’s only natural she’d abuse even someone she might legit care about. She even outright states that her reason for killing him is to just further drive herself into Despair, so that tracks quite logically.

Hey, maybe you can combine all of the above ideas. Maybe Matsuda saw Junko grow colder and more abusive, and that made it easier for him to be so abusive towards Ryoko, especially since he already resented her for the reasons I stated above RE: her being a façade and not even real in his eyes. Just pile all those motivations on top of one another.

That may all make him a little easier to understand compared to some of the assholes around him. Which isn’t to say I would presume to like the guy. I mean, he does literally murder an innocent person just to keep the secret of Junko’s guilt for the Student Council Killing Game. So he’s far from being a Good Boy these days. Maybe he was once? But regardless, I’m sure that when you can’t let go of “loving” someone as fucked up as Enoshima, you naturally get twisted by that love. On the plus side, at least he helped create the Neo World Program, so I suppose it’s not like he never did anything worthwhile. 

I’m pretty interested in the fanfic you’re talking about, though. Can you share the title or some kind of link (even though the Ask submission form will try to prevent you)? Even if it’s something you don’t want me to make public, I’d like to read it.

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 10 | " AT LONG LAST PT. 2 "

starring: enhypen ft. daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge @hooniecore @thenoceurgirl @thonkingdeepo

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One of the strangest things about love is that it will make you feel rooted one moment, then wavered by the next; all by the person whom you treated like your resting place — only for them to be tired of you in their next waking day. In Jungwon’s case, he didn’t feel threatened by the marquess’ efforts to acquire his girl. Despite Y/n’s plead to stop the unlabeled thing going on between them, Jungwon refused to feel daunted. So he did what he does best: expressing his sentiments in the form of written words— the language of the unsaid.

The night Y/n ended things between them, Jungwon made a quick stop to their library to write down a few of the many things she did to him on the daily; it contained some of the uncountable things he wanted to say to her if she’d only listened. He poured out his heart, writing to the best of his ability with all the love and warmth she deserved, hoping his adoration would reach her if it wasn’t too late yet.

Crumpling away various parchments and scratching several more, he finally had it neatly tucked in between the pages of their favorite Jane Austen book she threw at him weeks prior. Before leaving the said book upon the large, round table in the center of the room, Jungwon topped it off with a little quote, once again, peeking from the worn-out cover of the antique novel.

“I will go if you need me to go, but bear in mind that I don’t want to leave. I have no other homeland but you. So I will patiently sit in the corner of your heart and wait for our time.”

If it weren’t for Jay’s knowledge about his friend’s almost parting gift, Y/n wouldn’t be rushing down their manor’s library with an eager yet tormented heart the day after. She immediately clasped the book, the repertoire of their precious memories and Jungwon’s poetic affection, the instant she saw it lying on the surface of her late father’s desk.

Y/n pulled out the tiny parchment with Jungwon’s last quote, putting down the book back on the wooden desk. She carefully muttered each word as if it was an ode, constantly bouncing in her mind back and forth.

Her heart found a bit of relief behind his written words, yet she still found it vague that he couldn’t face her and tell her himself. Y/n picked the book again and as she flicked through the pages, a small, handwritten envelope caught her attention. Her heart began to thump.

She gently tore the envelope open only to be welcomed by several folded papers brimming at the edge of the torn covering. Jungwon got her used to the underlined phrases and pieces of quotes, and almost nothing from Jungwon’s heart itself. And now suddenly, all the letters were about her, from the depths of her lover’s affection.

“Be still, my heart.” She whispered under her shaky breath.

My dearest Y/n,

We made quite a mess, don’t you think? Or rather, I did.

When I didn’t react to your efforts of reaching out,

I'm sure you thought I'd gone on or despised you.

I bet it never ever occurred to you that I just couldn’t

bring myself to say "hello" and risk another goodbye.

You wore your best dress that day we departed,

and you were there to watch me leave.

And all the times you let me in just for me to screw things up and leave again.

I’ve been trying to undo what I did to you by making amends.

I’m trying so hard, believe me.

Everything I said in the past and the phrases I underlined in attempts to confess to you,

They were all true.

I cannot stop thinking of you, my thoughts of you never end.

They’re so loud they prevent me from sleeping at night.

I’ve been restlessly rehearsing the words I’d tell you if time didn’t forbid.

But unfortunately, it appears that my time in your heart is up.

Truth be told, we were something, don’t you think?

I cannot shrug away the thought that we were nothing when

I could feel your calm breath against my heaving chest,

It felt like you were meant to reside there, in the warmth of my embrace.

I’m afraid I couldn’t bear myself to write more of these.

They don’t deserve to be kept in any longer.

If you still wish to talk to me and hear me out before giving your hand away,

Meet me in the Queen’s Garden at dusk tomorrow.

Jay has agreed to chaperone you there,

But he must leave us to ourselves when we reach the Catalpa tree.

Until then, I will remain in the state of waiting, for the last time.

— Forever yours, Jungwon

The awaited dusk came upon, and it was a shocker for Y/n that she rejected Sunghoon’s plea to spend the day together over an impulsive meeting with Jungwon. Jay helped lift his sister from the horse, firmly securing his grip on her corseted waist. Her heart was in a weary state; she feared it would be a cycle again of Jungwon acting out his affection and leaving her hanging when their moment’s up. She couldn’t trust him fully anymore, knowing he had recklessly wasted so much borrowed time and promises.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine? I can stay by the gazebo and wait for you.”

“It’s alright, Jay. Didn’t he promise you that he’d send me home? Ride safe, brother!”

Jay walked closer to her and draped his arm around her shoulder, planting a long, soft kiss on the crown of her head. “See you at home, sis.”

Y/n heaved a deep breath before taking baby steps towards the Catalpa tree where Jungwon had been lounging hours prior. With a heavy heart and romantic complications in mind, she stood in front of the lover she forced herself to detest; eyes never leaving his.

But Jungwon, being easily distracted by her tantalizing eyes, quickly averted his gaze to the grass he had been standing on. His confident stance stripped away though he mustered the courage to look at the beautiful pair, as the object of his affection gradually approached him.

“Why didn’t you come and talk to me yourself?”

“Would you have listened?” Y/n ran out of retorts as she was guilty enough, cutting Jungwon’s explanations that night in their garden.

The boy drew closer to her, softly lifting her resting hand to interlock it with his. “Y/n…” only to be shrugged away by the maiden.

“You must have gone crazy, coming here like this. Tell me, are you that desperate to impel your pride-”

“This is not about my pride! I-” Jungwon ran a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh, realizing what he just did. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It upsets me to know that you still think this is all for my ego, supposing you’ve read the letters I left you.”

“So you’ve been living in denial all these years?”

“I never meant to come between you and him.”

“Yet here we are. Someone’s caught in the middle, and it’s definitely not you, Jung.” The boy stared down at his worn-out boots, million-dollar thoughts running through his mind, yet he couldn’t find the ones he needed to say.

“Do you want me to start it off for you?” Y/n crossed her arms, trying her best to compose a cold approach to Jungwon, although the chap’s been looking unkempt like he hasn’t slept for days in every passing minute of their imminent bickering.

“Haven’t you gotten the letters?”

“I did.”

“Is there anything you want to say about it?” Y/n scoffed at the timid boy who was shattered by the lady’s callousness.

“You asked me to come here, Jungwon! All this time you’ve said nothing but a few words to me. Are you even serious right now?” She half-yelled in frustration.

“I’m trying to prevent myself from saying the wrong things.”

“You’ve barely been able to look me in the eye!”

“For the reason that I cannot bear witness to the misery I’ve caused you!”

Y/n gulped when she saw a tear grazing down Jungwon’s dimpled cheek. It was the first time she’d seen him cry in a long time, the last one being the day he left her for university five years ago.

“It pains me,” he stammered, breaths shaky as tears kept dripping down the grassy lawn. “It pains me to know that I’ve yet again, caused you another heartache. If there was anything I could do to bring back the hands of time, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat. If I could go back to when we were thirteen, on the exact day I left you for London, I would vow to you then and there that I will spend every lifetime with you when I get back.” Jungwon went on and on, eyes now fixated upon her sparkling orbs that reflected the full moon above them.

“But I was a stubborn, scared, idle bloke who’s now deserving of punishment. It’s long overdue, but I still think I deserve this, and I’m sorry. I’m tremendously sorry that it took your beautiful marquess to be caught in the middle of our mess for me to realize that you were my all and more. You are my all and more, Y/n. I couldn’t bear this any longer. My feelings will not be silenced this time, and I must let you hear of how I truly, madly, and deeply love you now more than ever. I’d hate myself for eternity if it came to the conclusion of having to lose the one real thing I’ve ever hoped for in this lifetime. If the mighty heavens don’t forbid us to love again, I swear I’d love you right.”

“Why are you telling me this now? You had all the chances, Jung. Why did it have to be in the most unsuitable moment where Mother and the Duke are preparing for the imminent wedding?!”

“Sometimes you don’t fully know the answer until someone’s breaking badly in front of you. I’m sorry, Y/n. But I’m here now, in all my glory, swallowing my pride, and laying my armor down if you choose to rather love than fight.”

Jungwon approached her. Too close until an inch of distance was left between them. His eyes had been watering with tears the entire time he was rambling his feelings, but he wiped her glistening tears away instead, bearing in mind that he’s making up for lost times. His face was mere inches away from hers, breaths fanning against each other as Y/n sniffs lightly with Jungwon’s nose bumping against hers.

“I love you, Y/n. My longing for you aches like piled-up bricks pushed against my chest, as my love for you burns, heavily and passionately, like a thousand suns set ablaze right before our very eyes. My heart is, and always will be, yours. You’ve imparted me this quote once from a book you found scattered around my room. ‘Only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony’ and I had carved it into the depths of my soul, putting myself under the commitment of being worthy of your choice. I grew confident because I know you love me truly more than him.”

Jungwon raised her flimsy hand and kissed it with much intent before placing it around his shoulders and having his hand rest on the small of her back. With his other hand hanging freely to his side, he lifted it up to graze his gentle fingers upon the lady’s soft cheek, carefully taking in her satisfied reaction to his touch as she kept her eyes closed and her lips parted. Jungwon pulled her chin up with his forefinger, his thumb softly pinching it in the aftermath. He brushes his nose against hers, bathing in each other’s warmth and shy touches, bodies electric.

“Marry me.”

Y/n shoots a concerned look at Jungwon, “but what about Lady Choi? I thought you two-”

“No one else could make me the happiest man in this world, Y/n, no one but you.” Jungwon wasted no time and crashed his lips against hers. First, and long-awaited kisses are finally shared under the illuminating beam of the fullest moon of the year. The gent tilts his head to the side, gaining more access to the lady’s lips as Y/n heaves a deep breath, slowly taking in his upper lip within hers.

He pulls away mere seconds after to get some oxygen into his system while taking the opportunity to continue his unrehearsed proposal. “My heart will only rest in yours. Marry me, Y/n, will you?”

The lady buried her face against his chest that was clad in blue, velvety frock coat adorned with gold embroidery upon its hems. She sniffed his immaculate scent in before letting out muffled whispers. “Give me time to reflect on it. Only then will I give you my answer.”

“Time, of course. As much as you need, my love.” Jungwon gave her a quick and final kiss on the lips before freeing her from his embrace. “I must get you home now. Your mother would be frantic if she knew you were frolicking around with me while she worries about your wedding plans with Sunghoon.”

“Don’t say that. He hasn’t proposed to me yet.”

“But when he does, I’m certain your mother won’t pass up the chance.”

Y/n kissed him back. Fleeting, but full of love. “It’s me who’s getting married, Jung, not her.”

“I love you.”

“You’ve said it already.”

“I will say it again if I have to.” Y/n chuckles lightly, feeling relieved now that Jungwon has trampled down the barriers preventing them from transparency.

The gent lifts her up to his white horse before following after. He instantly took hold of her hands and had them wrapped around his small waist. “Hold on tight. We’re past my promised hour so I’m going to have to speed up, okay?” Y/n didn’t say anything, instead, she hugged Jungwon tightly by the waist and snurfled her cheek against his back. It was enough affirmation for him, so he yanked the thick rope, revving his horse on the cobblestones on their way home.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series’ taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

[targaryen-vigilante-wizard-jedi]

The Child Of Geralt's Past

Pairing; (Platonic) Geralt x (Daughter)Reader

Warnings; potentially upsetting, involves death.

The small blonde ran into his arms with a haste like no other and he welcomed her albeit he was hesitant. Trying to suppress a gulp and repress his memories, he looked to the young girl but found himself to be looking at a face other than the Princess'.

Events occur 20 years prior to the first episode of the Netflix show

"You have to raise the sword higher," His white hair swayed in the wind as he took strides towards the young girl. He positions her arms in an upright manner and takes a step back.

"I don't understand why I need training when you won't even let me hold a real sword." The fourteen year old complained lowering the wooden stick to the ground. He lowered himself beside the fire and looked up at her while taking the skin off of a piece of roasted chicken.

"You don't, not while I'm around." Geralt reassured, his eyes rising from the chicken to the young girl who rolled her eyes and sat across from him.

"You're not always going to be around," she paused a twinge of regret seeping into her at her choice of words. She shook her head and continued speaking. "I could help you." She got up and sat beside him, their shoulders touching.

"I want to help you." Her eyes pierced into his. He averted his eyes and didn't respond, informing her that the conversation was over.

Three months had passed since she had last brought up the idea of joining him on one of his 'quests' -as she had called them- but Geralt had not changed his mind and was currently off, fighting monsters in the forest nearby the small village she currently resided in.

She had been reading a book, a fable Geralt had gotten her as a gift of sorts for her twelfth birthday (her birthday had been the day they had encountered one another), it told the story of a man named Jacob who had been shunned by those in his village for becoming overwhelmed with an illness which made his skin resemble that of a snake's until one day he slowly transformed into said creature.

A bell was ringing all throughout the village and sounds of manic yells and screams sounded throughout the village alongside it.

Her heart sped up and the first thing she had done was closed her book and ran out of the room, her hands still grasping it as she did so.

When she emerged she could see the barkeep cowering behind his counter and the patrons boarding up the inn.

"What's going on?" She asked her eyes wide and mouth agape. An older man with brown-grey hair and a balding beard turned to her drenched in sweat. "The dead, lass. Your witcher won't be finding them in no forest, they've come to the village, dozens, if not hundreds of 'em. We only thought there was ten of 'em at most." He shook his head overwhelmedat the thought.

She gulped before setting her book on the counter and walking toward the barkeep. "We should start a fire- perhaps that will deter them."

______

Geralt had been trudging his way back to the village, vexed that the villagers had lied to him and wasted his time as well as one of his potions. The only upside had been that he had been paid in full for a job he didn't even need to do.

It wasn't until he got closer that he heard a commotion of sorts despite doubting it would be anything more than two drunks fighting Geralt quickened his pace until he could hear it more; women weeping, men defiantly yelling, children screaming. Geralt's eyes widened in realisation before he began to race through the forest as best as he could with his sword at the ready.

He could see smoke rising from above the trees, he could smell it. Death and fire was all he could see as he emerged from the forest.

The village was up in flames, people running and screaming as creatures crawled, walked and sprinted towards them.

The streets were flooded with debris from the buildings and torn apart villagers.

"Y/N!" He shouted frantically as he ran through the village, failing to acknowledge those who too were in peril, and needed saving, around him.

"Geralt!" A strained voice yelled from ahead of him accompanied by coughing.

Thundering footsteps accompanied him as he ran towards her voice, hoping to see her emerge from the cloud of smoke.

"Geralt where are you?" She shouted despaired accompanied by more coughing.

She was close by he knew that and just as he was about to run past another fallen building he heard a weak raspy, gasp and as strange as it is he knew it was her.

He looked and saw her, clutching her stomach, one of the dead laying atop of her headless.

He rushed over to her falling to his knees. "Y/N," he breathed, his eyes assessing her current state. Her eyes were weary and half-lidded, her mouth open and her chest and wounded stomach rising and falling unsettlingly slow but the worst of all was the wound she had sustained on her neck, a chunk of it had been taking and despite it being small, the blood loss she was experiencing was fatal.

For the first time in a long time, he felt tears come to his eyes. "Stay awake." He demanded grasping her cheek with a steady hand. Pitifully she lay her hand atop his which continued to grasp her cheek though she didn't possess the strength to tighten her grip.

"It's o-" she paused opening her eyes a little wider to look at Geralt, whose eyes were still assessing her wounds. "It's okay."

A deep sigh escaped Geralt before he shook his head. "Come on," he grasped her limp body in his arms and with a slight struggle finally lifted her in his arms carrying her as he had done when she was only a babe.

She hadn't even the strength to wince at the pain of his actions and instead attempted to stay awake and gaze at her Geralt's determined face.

"You know what they say when one gets bitten by the undead." Y/N stated with a sigh as she tried desperately to look at her stomach wound.

Geralt didn't answer her and she didn't know whether it was because he had ignored her or was too overcome by the thought of saving her from her sealed fate.

"I'll become one of them, won't I?" She stifled a sob determined not to cry and make Geralt feel any guilt for not being there.

His eyes looked to her face as he shook his head. "I won't let you, we'll get help-" Her voice interrupted his brashly as she pushed his statement out the window with reason.

"I can already feel it." She revealed with a shudder as she felt even colder than she previously had.

Geralt could see his horse, Roach, within the distance, who seemed completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I'm scared." She admitted reaching a hand to Geralt's hardened face.

"We'll get you to a healer just hold on." Geralt told her fiercely as he went to set her down on the ground.

As he stood up to retrieve his bag of potions from Roach a hand grasped his wrist firmly.

"Don't." Y/N pleaded with a sob. Geralt tried to tug his arm away feeling heated. "I have to try Y/N-" He spoke, his voice rough and harsher than he had intended.

"It's no use!" She weeped loudly. "Just stop please I don't want to become one of them!" She begged, her sobbing causing her even more pain. Geralt ignored her and pulled his wrist from hers and grabbed the bag before making his way back to her.

He spit the cork out of one of the poitons; a pain alleviation potion. Despite her pleas he forced the potion into her mouth before throwing it away, resulting in it smashing.

Before she could speak again he had forced another one into her mouth, one that would slow her fate.

Instead of being thankful she just sobbed, knowing that what he had done was pointless and would urge him to keep preventing the death she knew awaited her.

After he had done so, he grasped her gently and set her atop Roach and repositioned his bag on Roach again.

Wordlessly he sat himself on Roach, positioning himself behind Y/N.

"We'll won't make it to a healer in time, you have to do it now." She murmured softly as she slouched against him.

"Yes we will." Was all he had responded with as they continued to ride onward to the next village over which was 12 hours away at the least.

_______

Geralt started to feel deflated as he realised night had approached and he couldn't see the path ahead. He slowed Roach and peered down to look at the young girl who was unconscious but still alive. His eyes traced her jaw where her veins were now prominent but upon closer inspection it appeared that her veins were transparent all over her face.

Wordlessly he placed a kiss on top of her head, slightly shaking as he did so. He knew he was too late, he had no more potions to delay her illness and she would die any second now so he decided to do the only thing he could, comfort her.

He halted Roach and dismounted her before lifting Y/N up, waking her in the process and setting her on the ground, with her back against a tree.

He then proceeded to make a fire, trying to make the scene as normal as possible for both him and Y/N.

It had taken a few minutes of switching sticks but he finally struck a flame onto the pile of twigs he had stacked together.

The fire wasn't large but would still supply them with heat. He made his way over to Y/N and sat beside her. His eyes glossed her face, trying to recreate what she had looked like prior to the deterioration her body now faced.

It was silent for quite a few minutes before Y/N spoke up. "I'm scared." She admitted for the second time that day and Geralt kept his eyes on her face as he reached out to push away a strand of her hair.

"I know, I am too." He breathed deeply wanting to say more but not knowing what to say.

"Don't let me know when you're going to do it." She instructed before breathing out a slow tremoring breath.

Geralt didn't reply or ask what she meant because he knew exactly what she meant and couldn't find the strength within him to even contemplate the thought of what he would do.

Silence ensued once again as both their eyes found comfort in the fire in front of them.

"I just," she paused attempting to compose herself and suppress a sob, drawing Geralt's eyes to her. "Want you to know that I've enjoyed every day with you and you're the best thing to ever happen to me," she found the strength to look at him. "I love you dad." At her statement Geralt smiled and tears trickled down his face. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her. "I love you more than anything, kiddo." He stated shutting his eyes tightly.

Once he removed his arms from her he saw her eyes glossing over and took notice that she was going in and out of consciousness. With careful slow movements as to not arouse suspicion he sat behind her so that she was placed between his legs with her back to his chest.

He stroked her hair, attempting to muster up the courage to do what must be done. He heard her struggle to breath and watched as her body convulsed repeatedly. He couldn't afford to look at her face or else he'll lose the courage to do what he has to.

"I'm sorry." He whispered mostly to himself than to her before wrapping one arm around her neck and forcing her head to turn so quickly that it snapped ceasing her pain and her existence.

As soon as it was done, his shuddering breath interrupted the silence of the forest and he forced himself to look ahead not daring to look down at what he had done. She lay limply in his arms. He didn't want to let her go, he couldn't so he just sat there, and attempted to trick his own mind into believing that she lay asleep in his arms, that her body was moving because she was restless in her sleep and not because his chest forced her body to move in sync with his breaths.

He lay in that uncomfortable position for hours, his breathing had calmed slightly but he still could not come to terms with what he had done. He couldn't fathom knowing he wouldn't ever see or hear her again or that he had been the one to kill her. It was the early hours once he had found the strength to move her and he had done so with his eyes closed.

As he stood he faced away from her body -which was propped against the tree- contemplating whether to bury it or to burn it.

Once his mind was made up, he left her along with Roach to search for more wood to create a pyre, a memorial if you will.

Once he was satisfied with his findings he got to work on the pyre, ignoring the thought of the person he was building it for.

It took him an hour or two and he had to use some strips of the shirt he wore to tie the many bits of wood together but after seeing it decorated with her blood he decided to discard it.

Once that first challenge was done the next came and with dread he turned to look at Y/N's body. Her face was a lot more pallid than its original dark/tan/peach/light colour however the veins were not visible anymore, and with the exceptions of the massive wounds and blood covering her, she looked asleep.

He felt relieved that he had managed to halt the process of her becoming a creature like him, but part of him would've rather she become a creature than die, but he would never have subjected her to that life against her will.

He began to make a fire again although this time it ignited upon his torn shirt which he had lay on the ground. He grasped the shirt from the end which was not yet burning and threw it onto the pyre. Although it took some time, the majority of the pyre was alight before it was noon and so as gently as he could he lifted Y/N's body as though he didn't want to wake her from her slumber and approached the flaming pyre.

He stopped directly in front of it and looked to the young girl in his arms. He stroked her face and looked fondly, taking note of her face so it would be engraved in his memory forever.

He leaned forward and placed a firm kiss to her forehead before wordlessly setting her body on the pyre, scalding his arms in the process. He flinched but didn't pull away until he was satisfied that she was presented as respectfully as possible.

Once he was done he turned away and walked over to the tree, bile making it's way out of his mouth as he vomited from the stress and pain he was enduring.

A sob escaped him and tears fell from his face before he once again composed himself with a deep breath and retrieved his dagger.

He walked to the tree Y/N had died under and carved her name and the date she had died.

It was decided from that moment that this was her grave. He waited until the fire died down, feeding Roach and talking with her, hoping to extract some kind of comfort from the mare. Once the fire was gone and all that was left was dead wood and ashes he approached the pyre where Y/N's body no longer lay and ashes lay instead. He retrieved as much of Y/N's ashes as he possibly could and scooped them into an empty potion bottle before leaving for good, never to return.

_____

As he gazed at Cirilla, his mind could only see Y/N in that moment as though he had been given a second chance to protect her but once he dismissed his vision he was disillusioned when he realised that the girl who stood before him was his law of surprise, Princess Cirilla.

Despite feeling some disappointment he felt a determination as he had a purpose again so he swore to himself that he would raise Cirilla different, that she would become a fighter, as strong as she could be so that she may survive unlike Y/N and live the life Geralt had hoped Y/N could.

He clutched his medallion which was engraved with the first intial of Y/N's name and held within it Y/N's ashes.

'Missing you everyday kiddo.'

(Just want to say thanks to reading all of @cas-kingdom witcher fics I managed to build the courage to finish my own. It might be a bit rusty since it's my first time writing a fic on Tumblr but I'm pretty happy with it. I completely made up Jacob's story btw.)

[agentravensong]

Little Nightmares 2: Six, Escapism, Trauma, and Destiny | An Analysis

So the minecraft boy played the Little Nightmares games. I haven't watched the streams, but having heard his take on the ending of the second game from people on tumblr, I'd like to share my own. Who knows, maybe he'll see this on his secret tumblr account. Not that I'd know if he did, because I don't watch his stuff. Making this more for me than anything else.

This is gonna be a long one, so strap yourselves in. Spoilers for all three games ahead (yes, there are 3. we'll get to that)

TL;DR, I agree that Six had understandable reasons for her final act in the game, but I think there's a lot more to her reasoning than her recognizing what Mono becomes when she sees his face for the first time. To prove it, we're gonna do a deep dive into her character.

Before getting to that, though, there's one thing about the timeline I want to make sure we all agree on:

Little Nightmares 2 is a prequel.

The team behind the games has stated as much in an interview, but it's heavily implied in-game by (well, by the fact that Six doesn't use her soul-sucking powers at any point in LN2, but also by) the secret ending cutscene you get after the credits if you "collected" all of the glitching remains of children you can find in the overworld. In short, after bursting out of a TV into a regular-looking room, Six sees her shadow self, who directs her attention to a poster on the floor for the Maw. Then, her stomach growls.

The main reason I'm bringing this up right away is because it confirms that Six is not trapped in the loop like Mono is. She probably isn't even aware that there's a loop at all.

And if that's the case, it hurts the argument that she recognizes at the end that Mono grows up to become the monster who kidnapped her. While Six is a smart and scrappy kid in a world that often defies logic, what are the chances that she'd be able to think that far outside the box and realize there's a time loop, which is the only way that idea could be possible?

That being said, you could argue that the Signal Tower helped clue her in on it to make her drop Mono. Or that, even if Six realized it wouldn't make sense for Mono to grow up to be someone she'd already met, the resemblance between him and the adult at least made her fearful that Mono would grow up to be a monster *like* the Thin Man, and that possibility was enough for her to decide she was better off alone. I can definitely accept that latter idea as part of her reasoning.

But to say that Six dropped Mono just because she thought he would become bad, for the sake of some greater good, misses out on another important factor. One that the developers alluded to on Twitter in their standard cryptic way when asked to explain the ending:

"Extracting someone from a fantasy can be deeply upsetting for everyone involved."

The team has stated multiple times, on Twitter and in interviews, that the main theme of Little Nightmares 2 is escapism. In the interview I linked above, they state directly that "the Signal Tower exists [in the world of LN] because the need for escapism exists", just as "The Maw exists because the hunger exists". Escapism is what the Transmission promises to everyone under its influence.

When Six is brought to the Tower, she's given a room filled with toys, and there's one in particular that stands out: the music box, a replica of the one she had while at the Hunter's Cabin. The music makes her docile. It makes her feel safe.

But Mono takes that away, by breaking down the door in the same violent fashion he first entered her life, and then by bashing the box to bits.

As a child in this horrible world who'd just been able to experience some peace for the first time in who knows how long, to have that ripped away so suddenly by a person you were just beginning to let yourself trust...

Well, even that's not the full picture. If you really want to understand why Six did what she did, you have to know what she went through before LN2.

The First Nightmare

Remember at the start when I said there are 3 games in the series? The third is Very Little Nightmares, a mobile game that is set not just before LN1 (as confirmed by the developers), but also, from all appearances, LN2.

To summarize in a few paragraphs: the game takes place in a big house on a cliffside called the Nest, home to a child called the Pretender who has other kids be brought there and turned into dolls for her to play with (not the same kind of dolls as the bullies... at least it doesn't seem like it). Six is one of the children in the Nest, but you play as a different girl. A girl who you assume is Six at first, because she's wearing the yellow raincoat.

Six and the Girl interact a few times throughout the game, both helping each other with puzzles as they try to escape. Near the end, the two of them are running from a monster together, but after Girl escapes into a shed, she closes and blocks the door behind her, leaving Six behind. This moment is the one you get a premonition of at the beginning of the game, like how you get a vision of the Hall at the beginning of LN2 and the Lady at the beginning of LN1. Certainly sounds like it's important to at least one of these characters.

A little bit later, as Girl runs from the Pretender, she sees Six again, following them down the cliff on a different path. She helps Six proceed, and in turn, when Girl is cornered, Six drops a boulder on the Pretender.

But it doesn't kill her. Instead, the ledge she and Girl are on collapses, and they both drop into the ocean. We see the empty raincoat float back to the surface before drifting away, and, after the credits, we see Six make her way to the bottom of the cliff, alone.

Six's Story

So, what do we learn about Six from this? That she's already seen that kids can be monsters, without having to grow up first. That she's tried being helpful and having a friend before, but they betrayed her for the sake of their own survival. And that, even when people try to be better, it doesn't matter in the end; they all die anyway.

From there, we know that Six somehow makes it to the land/island where the Hunter lives and gets captured by him. We know that she somehow gets her hands on this music box, and it provides a bit of respite, escapism, from her circumstances.

We know that Mono makes... not the best first impression on her. We see them learn to work together. We see that Mono will do anything to save her, but we can also see that he's largely the one dragging her into danger in the first place, and that he's just as inclined to violence as she is (like, if you actually count the number of enemies Mono kills versus Six in both games, ignoring the guests from the end of LN1, Mono winds handily). Because they have to be.

We see that Mono cowers under the bed, rather than reaching for Six, when the Thin Man takes her. We see him repeat her trauma of breaking down her doors in the Signal Tower, and we see him destroy the source of her escapism, because he can't see another way to help her.

And then, we see the results of all of that.

Why does she do it?

Six doesn't drop Mono for the sake of any greater good. She doesn't drop him to try and save him from his own fate.

She drops him because she's hurt. She's angry. She's scared, of him, and of the world at large, and the bits of safety she had - the false peace the Signal Tower provided, and the genuine friendship Mono had begun to forge with her - have both been stripped away, in the same instant, by him.

She drops him because she's a kid. A traumatized kid. And, to quote the interview from before one more time:

Who knows why kids do what they do? They're thrown into this world that hates them and have to find some way to survive to adulthood. If we're happy to just sit back and watch this struggle, who are we to judge how they do it?

What connects the protagonists of both games, and what makes them so affecting for me, is how they are shaped by the world around them, and how unavoidable this can feel. More even than their size and strength, it is this that underlines just how stacked the odds are against these kids.

Is that destiny? I suppose that's up to your definition of "destiny".

To be clear, this post isn't meant to absolve Six and/or put all the blame onto Mono. They've both been shaped by the world of nightmares they'd found themselves in, and they both make choices that hurt each other, out of fear, and anger, and ignorance, and pure survival instincts. There are no heroes in this world, but neither of the kids are evil or heartless.

I considered talking more about Mono here - about how the Transmission provides him with his own form of escapism, and how he might be the cause of the time loop he's trapped in - but this post is long enough as is. If you enjoyed my thoughts and would like to hear more about that topic, you'll get the basics of the theory from this post. I'd also highly recommend checking out the Little Nightmares theory posts made by @598-inspiration :)

Any new fans of the game, I'd love to hear your thoughts on all of this, or anything else Little Nightmares related! I'm far from an expert on these games, but I love talking about them - especially about these kids :D

[mileyjassie]

"𝖂𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕬𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝕸𝖊?"

Pairing: Ayno (VAV) x reader

Genre: Suggestive (but pretty romantic tho)

Word Count: 4K

Synopsis: You're afraid of start loving someone you know nothing about, but he will show you that he's not that different from you. Remembering that English is not my mother language so sorry for any mistakes

You shouldn't be there, you didn't like it, you didn't like the place and didn't like the people.

It would be normal to see yourself in your house looking at the mirror before going to sleep and then going to bed, but by coincidence you decided to go, and by coincidence you saw him that night. You would not speak to someone like him, you would not approach for personal reasons but not by prejudgement. But by coincidence, that time, that one time, you sat with him, and he sat with you. It was an exception, just that one time.

He was different, he was really different from you. Curiosity could soon be discovered in your watchful eyes. His dark hair hid the sight of his eyes, but by the pool of that house sometimes when the lights danced above you, you could see a spot of light hidden in his well-designed eyes. The way he looked at you was different from the way others looked at him.

He had seen something in you, something that seemed clear. But you couldn't understand what was holding you to that person. What drew you so much attention? His appearance was already peculiar, it was already something to become personal, so you knew it was not his appearance that got you sitting next to him for so long.

— Did I get your attention? ... — He asked quietly, discreetly, even if the party around didn't ask for it. You almost saw a nice smile come out of the corner of his mouth, but it didn't happen anyway. — It usually happens ... did I scare you? ...

— You didn't scare me, I don't think you're scary ... You look like that because you like it more, it doesn't scare me.

He remained silent and calm, moving minimally for any gesture. It would be a risky bet to characterize him as shy, but you kept thinking it was, for you it was a good guess that maybe some others would not agree.

— What caught your attention about me? ... — He asked in the same tone, but you couldn't look at him for much, the lights were dim, he could hide his gaze, but he didn't feel like he was doing it.

— I'm trying to find out ...

He nodded slightly, without complications. It seemed unhurried, as if the night was long enough to pass the time there.

— Are you curious?

You watched him a little, stating.

— I'm a little curious about you ...

— If I let you get close to me, would you like to know about me? ... — His voice came out more firmly, a direct question that stuck in your mind. His voice echoed a little more, making you a little lazy, you ended up answering low after.

— I'm not sure I know how to do this ...

His hands slid on the floor, pulling himself a bit closer.

— Do what?

— To be close someone ... — You said shyly but loud enough, so he wouldn't notice your traces of shyness. — I don't know much about it ...

His head dipped a little, paying attention to the movements of your mouth to help to understand a little against the beats that echoed in the speakers scattered around the party.

— You shouldn't be here ... isn't?

You didn't answer, but waited him to continue.

— You don't need to feel alone ... I shouldn't be sitting here either ... — He fell his head, his bangs danced without losing every gesture he made, it seemed to be all on purpose, but when you saw his eyes exposed, you realized he was purer than you thought he would be.

This boy was so soft that his clothes seemed to lose all of his real meanings.

The darkness was so comforting that the surrounding light began to bother you. However, it continued to slide to where you were in the same order as always, and you ended up regretting your thoughts every time his face brightened and you could memorize all the exposed features of his face.

Then he smiled.

When that happened, you forgot that you could be far away. When his smile appeared, that person you would like to see far from you ended up mesmerizing you and making you fall into his charms.

Was he an angel? Was he so beautiful all this time? ... Why did you think to keep him away from you?

For you, an angel wouldn't have black, peeled nails like he did. An angel would not have tattoos on his hands showing the boldness of a mysterious young man as he showed himself to be. He wouldn't wear black clothes or piercings, nor would he have dark, intense eyes like the ones he had.

You were silent, looking at the brilliant water of the pool, only adorned by a light blue sky.

— Among all these people, you are here with me, even scared ... That's cool ... I would like to be talking to you if we were not anyway... — He said between pauses, quietly, sometimes pressing his lips, but you didn't know well what it meant. — Thanks for staying with me.

— I'm not scared. — You said it again.

His attention turned towards you, looking at your form from the corner of his eyes.

— Come with me...

You bent your head, so he stood up extending his hand to you.

— Would you accept me?

You took his hand and he helped you to stand up, not letting go to hear your answer closer.

— Come with me ... — He lowered his head to speak close to your cheek.

— Where would you take me? ...

— Not far. I don't want to do anything different, don't think too much, just look around ...

You looked around, seeing young people having fun with each other everywhere, some groups, some friends, some couples.

His face turned back to yours, but he didn't do anything, he stayed that way.

— I want to stay with you tonight. — He murmured, his sweet voice preventing my desire to look anywhere else. — So come with me.

He held your fingers, pulling you slowly just to allow time enough to you deny it, but that didn't happen anyway. You followed him, paying attention to his face, extremely curious.

Habits that you had never made, decisions that you never would have made, you ended up forgetting these things. No, you haven't forgotten them, you just left them aside.

It was just a distant wall, where the lights didn't shine, where there were no eyes. There was nothing different, and it was there that he touched you, hiding you with his body.

The night was cold, but your hands were warm enough with the situation you was in. Your cheeks were flushed with his eyes meeting yours.

He didn't touch you at first, he just got a little closer, lifting his hands up to your neck, sliding his cold fingers through the strands of your hair, resting on the back of your neck.

You held his clothes in your hands, without strength, but it brought him closer. His head lay down until it reached your face, his bangs brushing against your skin.

You closed your eyes, which were already a little heavy, feeling his lips pressed against your cheek, going to the other one leaving one same kiss there. You opened your eyes, a little impressed by it, receiving a friendly smile from him. Then you felt a tender squeeze on the back of the neck, feeling his lips on your forehead.

His eyes met yours again, but this time his smile remained there, a little lighter, but there.

— I will ask the question again ... Answer me in good tone ... — He slid his thumbs around your neck, like a harmless caress, but the cold rings he wore send you shivers in a matter of seconds through your body. — Would you stay with me tonight? ...

You held his wrists, feeling the thick texture of his clothing.

— There would be no denying ...

— Just tell me again ... in the right way ... — He brushed his nose over yours, not getting any closer.

— I want you to stay with me, so please stay with me tonight ...

He confirmed with satisfaction, letting out a smile again at one time or another as he smoothed his hands around your neck.

— It's gonna be a pleasant evening ... — He murmured, closing his lips to rest them on yours silently.

[...]

You stared at him while he stopped in front of you with a confused expression.

— What makes you think so deeply that I'm different from you?

You didn't know how to answer.

— Why can't you accept me?

— I can't just trust you that much.

He looked upset but not hurt by what you said.

— I know you wouldn't have done this with anyone, I know that, don't think these things ... — He seemed to try to explain himself, even without needing to, he was attentive and careful and he still tried to avoid misunderstandings even when you offended him. — I know you wouldn't kiss anyone else like you kissed me ...

You avoided his eyes quickly when felt the embarrassment restraining your movements.

— It's so hard to think that it was the same to me? ... That I happened to make an exception just that time? ... Why it is different only for you?

You bit your lip, you didn't want to offend him, but you couldn't defend your thoughts without doing so.

He frowned, this time breaking your heart with the disappointment draining from his eyes.

— Can't you really accept me?

— I-It's not that way.

He was silent, watching you briefly before leaving without saying goodbye.

— I thought you wouldn't regret it.

You saw him leaving and don't looking back, you feeling a certain lack of his presence.

[...]

Everything was dark, it was late, everything was silent, so you was afraid before you saw him.

— Why were you walking around alone? It's so late, you know it's dangerous ... Don't scare me like that ... — You said a little low and sleepy, seeing him so late at night had scared you, without any warning of his arrival.

— I wanted to visit you, I wanted to see you ... despite that, I feel sorry for bothering you, I'm sorry for not thinking twice ...

— I can't imagine what you would like to talk to me at a time like this ...

The murmurs stopped slowly, an awkwardness being built in the air as only breaths could be heard.

He was looking good, he should have stayed on the street until that moment, strolling around. You could feel the perfume exhaling from the boy from where you were, you tried not to get closer the boy to feel more of his fragrance.

His mouth opened for a moment, it quickly caught your attention, then he proceeded in whispers.

— If you want me around ... Why don't you have the courage to tell me? ...

You were quiet, organizing the thoughts that flew in search of answers. He didn't wait for you even if he still didn't hear anything from your mouth.

— If you had called me ... said you wanted me with you, I would have come after you without doubt... — He approached, enough so that you could see his eyes. — Am I still the problem? ...

You pressed your fingers together, don't wanting to answer him directly.

— Did you ... have you been drinking before you came here? ...

He closed his eyes, patiently denying.

— I just came ...

You noticed his melancholic tone, a little discouraged, so you decided to leave the insecurities aside to actually talk to the boy in front of you.

— Yoonho ...

When you said his name out loud, you felt something different when you heard it leave your own mouth. His eyes lifted towards you quickly, attentive and intense, it seemed to be something intimate to hear his name coming from you.

— I don't think you're the problem because ... — I pressed my lips together. — Because I think you're beautiful ... You're ... more beautiful than I thought you were ...

He listened without moving a single finger, but his expression softened when he heard that statement.

— I didn't want to hurt you, nor make you think that I regret having stayed with you at that party ... — You commented low, trying to find any sign under that long, smooth bangs if his.

— So ... — He interrupted you, curious but subtle, he always knew how to stay in his place, like a good boy. — What is holding you back? ... What could prevent you from approaching me? ... Fear?

You sighed.

— I told you before that fear is not what I feel for you.

— Not that fear. — He took two steps forward, still keeping some distance. — Fear of me being different ...

You remained silent, receiving those words with emphasis echoing in you thoughts. Then you realized that you was a little surprised to hear the truth coming out of his mouth.

He didn't expect an answer from you. He looked at the floor, smoothing his hands between his fingers, catching your attention to his tattoos and rings.

His hands seemed to be soft, his fingers were long and his nails were cut perfectly, but they seemed to have been painted for a long time ago, due to the peeling nail polish.

His hand moved up his arm timidly, landing on the curve of his neck, gently pulling the ends of his hair behind his ear.

His piercings were finally seen, your attention being especially on the earrings that occupied the pinky skin of his ear.

He knew you was paying attention on him. He wanted this, he wanted to see how you were watching him. How you admired him.

You closed your lips and opened it a few times, unable to make the sound in your throat come out on the first try.

— You...

His gaze lifted quickly, but remained in the same position, crossing his other arm in his body to hold his waist, as if he were hugging himself because of the cold.

— Do you want to spend the night here?

He remained silent, letting his hand on his neck fall on his shoulder.

— Are you inviting me to stay? ... — His voice came out light and hopeful, only that was able to make your body tense.

— Yes. I prefer you to stay. Sleep here tonight.

— Are you sure?...

You agreed, stepping away from the couch a little.

— You can sleep here, it is safer for you wait the day to come.

— Thanks for worrying about me ... — He smiled with his mouth closed, looking away.

You agreed, going to the bedroom to get a sheet for him.

You took a thick, soft sheet, hoping to please the boy with dark clothes. When you returned to the room only lit by the light outside the balcony, you saw the boy already barefoot and sitting on the sofa, hugging his legs with his back on the arm of the sofa, looking to the side, perhaps nowhere in particular.

You approached the sofa slowly, but the boy didn't look at you, he lowered his head, hiding his face on his knees.

You waited standing, silent, until you felt the corage to sit in front of him.

You left the sheet aside.

— You're sad?...

He raised his head, laying in his arms, looking at the floor. He slightly denied it.

— If I spend the night here ... Will you remember me tomorrow? ... — He lifted his head, resting his chin on his arms. — Or will you just remember what I was wearing? ... What others will think ...

You looked down, shaking your head.

— There is no way to forget you ...

He smiled weakly, lowering his head a little. Upon hearing it, you soon searched for his face when you raised your head, not being able to see his face because of the dark and his long hair.

He dropped his head when he noticed.

— What are you looking for? ... — That soft voice appeared again, and that shiver circulated through your body.

— Your eyes. I can't see them ... — You said in the same tone, still analyzing him.

Gradually his hands slid down his legs, making a path to your hands that shaked a little with the unexpected touch.

— If you can't see my eyes ...

He took them to his face, making your fingers run through his skin and the root of his hair, combing the silky, soft strands of his locks back.

— It's because you don't want to.

You could see his face perfectly, his forehead, his eyebrows and his well-formed and open, dark and shiny eyes that were watching you deeply.

After that moment of silent observation he placed your hands on his knees, slowly putting his hands to the sides of your face, bringing you closer.

— Listen to me...

He commented in whispers, running his fingers in small, simple lines across your face and neck.

— I would undress myself for you ...

Such a comment made your fingers hold on his knees, scratching the fabric of his pants.

— Everything in my body. — He said without stuttering, he seemed convinced of it. — Just for you.

You was paralyzed, even so, he didn't expect an answer yet.

— If you wanted, I would take it all out ... — He looked at his clothes, you ended up looking together, following his gaze anywhere. — I would take off each piercing and ring ... one by one, each piece of clothing ... until nothing is left.

You felt your face heat up intensely, his fingers remained cold on your skin, sometimes curling up in your hair.

— If you asked me to, I would do it for you ...

His whispers remained soft, as if they were little secrets made only to you to hear.

— Now? ... Would you do that now? ...

He nodded slowly, looking at the pieces of your face, pulling you close from the back of the neck, his scent becoming more and more irresistible.

— I would throw all those pieces away ... Just so you could finally see me for real ...

— Ayno ... — You murmured. His eyes closed for a moment. — Would you do that now for me? Would you let me see you? ...

His hands expanded, holding the back of your head into your hair to join your lips to his. You grabbed his knees, accepting his kiss willingly, feeling his warm breath against your cheek.

His kiss lasted for a while, barely pulling his lips away to bring them back to yours, making you feel the contrast of his warm lips and the little could piercing pressed against your lower lip.

His lips moistened yours for a long, silent time, but he did not deepen in the kiss. He pulled away, leaving the tip of his nose to brush yours.

— Don't waste a second ... — He took his hands out of your hair, taking them to his ear, removing an earring. — Look at me...

Then he took off one after the other, without haste, until his ears were bare.

He looked at you a little.

— Do you want to do this for me? ...

You confirmed slowly, he brought his face closer, lifting his chin a little, then opening slightly his mouth.

He watched you remove the piercing from his lip, tilting his head a bit to the side when you did, looking into your eyes temporarily.

— What do you think? ... — He asked quietly, waiting for your approval.

You watched his features, making him hold his piercing with the other earrings to slide your hands under his hair, finding his warm ears hidden by the long dark locks.

You smiled.

— You look like an angel.

His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up a little. He opened his mouth, but said nothing, ducking his head a little, but not so far as to be away from you.

You looked at him confused, sliding your fingers through his hair, combing them behind his head and ears. His eyes fluttered and then softened after the affection.

His cheeks turned red. His eyes closed and his eyebrows rose slightly. His fingers surrounded your wrist and his rings gave you a small thermal shock again.

— An angel? ... — He sighed, laying his face on the palm of your hand, making you melt with the gesture.

You stroked his cheek with your thumb, enjoying the feel of his fingers around your wrist.

— Yes ... the purest ...

His other hand ran backwards, leaving his piercings beside the small lamp without having to leave your hands, then bringing it back to hold your other wrist while you stroked his hair over the head.

He continued to feel it, opening his eyes when he felt the proximity of your face. You sealed your lips to his, this time only feeling heat from him.

Without separating from the kiss you let go of his fingers to hold one of his hands, sliding your nails across his skin until you removed the first ring, repeating this with the others.

You sucked on his lips, hearing a sigh.

His hands remained still in the air, even though you had already removed all his accessories.

You pulled away from his mouth, he stared at your face, looking for something that not even he seemed to know what.

You looked at his necklaces, he straightened up, hurrying.

— I will help you. — He commented a little more shy, bringing his bare hands to the back of his neck, but you wanted to be part of it anyway, approaching his neck to remove his necklaces on your own, his hands stopped automatically, waiting for you to finish.

You removed them, joining them with the rings and putting them next to the piercings behind him, next to the unlit lamp.

His breath hit your neck as you slowly came back. His body had laid down a little so that you could take his accessories to the others, but his knees remained glued to his body.

His torso was slightly curved, so that he could lay his head on the arm of the sofa where he was leaning before. You leaned, giving him space to stretch his legs more between yours, so that he could go down a little more and feel comfortable.

He lifted up with his elbows, searching for the proximity of your face again.

— Are you going to do this 'till the end? ... — he murmured quietly, enough to create a more intimate atmosphere.

You sat on his hip, trying to take his coat off his shoulders, realizing this he soon sat down, making the job easier, staying only with a sweater.

— You want me to do?...

He stated with some slight nods, caressing your cheek with his.

— I will ... but before that — You held his hands, kissing his hand's backs, paying attention to their tattoos. — I need to worship you a little more ...

His eyes followed his hands, watching each of his fingers being kissed and caressed, then you noticed that until then his hands which were so cold now were as hot as ever.

— Do you ... l-like my tattoos? ...

You stated with a murmur, continuing with the kisses.

— You are telling the truth?

You smoothed his nails with your fingertips, looking at his face after the question.

— I am.

— It's not a problem anymore? ...

— It was never a problem, Ayno ...

A smile escaped the corner of his lips, a sheepish smile.

— I'm feeling good ... — He held your fingers, squeezing your hand gently.

— Are you? ... — You asked, he confirmed.

— Because you're seeing me exactly the way I wanted you to do...

You met his attentive gaze, smiling along with his relieved expression.

— As you said ... I just didn't see you, because I didn't want to ... The problem was with me, after all.

He shook his head, lowering his face to yours, to kiss your mouth.

— It's nobody's fault, baby. — He raised his hand to the side of your face, drawing with his fingers up to your jaw. — You just need to trust me. — He lowered himself again to your face, meeting your lips again.

You let go of his hand, taking both of yours to his hair, pleasing him in the strands of his locks, listening to a contented sigh coming out of his throat.

One of his hands came to grab your neck, while the other landed on your back. His tongue moistened your lips, asking for passage to deepen the kiss, letting out a little whimper and making you both weak by the first intimate contact. You pulled his hair lightly with your hands, hearing another pleasant sound coming out of his throat.

You grabbed the hem of his sweater, just holding it for a moment, noticing the boy shivering all over.

You separated the kiss for a moment, letting one last peck before running your hands along the sides of his torso, sliding up in his thin waist until he removed the piece from his body.

You hugged his waist, sliding your fingers down his back, leaving some small kisses on his shoulder until the curve of his neck.

His head fell to the other side, giving full access to his neck, you took the opportunity to smell him, closing your eyes, almost bewitched.

His hands slid down your arms, kissing the area below your lobe, kissing your jaw, cheek and forehead.

You smiled when you felt his lips on your forehead and temple, keeping your eyes closed.

— Hm, yeah ... I missed that ...

— You did? — His voice came out lower, but he still smiled. You agreed, he continued. — You can have as much of it as you want ... — He kissed my head once again, hugging my neck.

You looked to the side, meeting his face, receiving another kiss.

— Do you accept me? ... — He murmured with his lips still near yours, giving some pecks.

You returned his gestures, removing the fringe from above his eyes, looking at him for a few seconds.

— I accept you. The way you are.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'No choices' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"No choices"

"We both know that your 'help' isn't real, you only want to broke more than the CIA did !"

Chapter Summary : Yirina broke....her act of Bell couldn't last anymore when she witnessed Freya threatening Park and because of it, she could feel that the real hell was going to be unleaashed upon her & Park.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3100

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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I was ashamed to have lied to Freya, to have hide my true state and not telling her that I was already knowing it since 3 years but...I was afraid. I'm still afraid right now. I was fearing at every moment I was either facing her or talking to her in those phone calls, I was in pain, thinking at the moment I will have to tell her that and it did happened. Seeing her threatening, hitting Park like that while I was attached to that chair, it was my breaking point, I wasn't able to hold anymore, I cracked because it was enough...it was...my only way...

Of course, I knew that she was going to be upset at me, telling that I betrayed the cause, that I was abandoning her....she did the same thing to me...she betrayed me, she stole from me, she...she abandoned me. She couldn't face my own words against her as she quickly left the room after I told her that. She left me in pain on that bed, fearing for an lot of things : what now ? Is Park is going to be hurt because of me ? What are they going to do ?

Now, I was only obliged to wait again, taking more time to sleep because I wouldn't want to talk to anyone after what I did and like it happened for 2 days, no one between Sonya, Freya, Stitch or even Knight was coming to see me, it was the usual guards that were bringing meals & something to drink for almost 3 days....3 days that I didn't really speak, repeating the same question each time was coming in : Which time is it ? It was the only words I did speak out of my mouth in 3 days.

The 10th of June...I don't know why but this day was maybe going to be different at the moment I woke up, it was just an simple feeling even if nothing unusual happened until at what I supposed to be at the beginning of the evening where the door of the cell was getting opened, me still leaned on the wall next to the bed.

"It....why did you do this ?" I was surprised when I was able to see Sonya themselves arriving in the cell, the door closing behind them.

"Don't start." I whispered in an low voice as my first thoughts was saying that they were going to be like Freya from 3 days ago.

"Yirina." They said, calling by my real name as they now know about me. "I don't want to be bothering or disturbing but I want to know." They added, slowly moving to face me, getting next to the bed without approaching it too much.

"I have my reasons." I replied, my hands on my face before I looked back at them, realizing that I couldn't lie anymore. "I was afraid, Sonya." I told them, saddened.

"Why were you afraid ?" They asked me, deciding to sit back against the wall behind them, curious.

"When I woke up and that we told me that...I spend 3 years in an coma, I was afraid." I replied, thinking about the precise moment I opened my eyes in that hospital bed in Moscow. "I couldn't go back here and I wouldn't do that."

"She said that you were both raised by Perseus an large part of your life." They expressed, having now learned about my life from Freya herself. "She said that you betrayed us."

"I opened my eyes." I corrected them in an gentle way. "I was living under an lie during years and I couldn't let this continue." I continued, clenching my fists on my lap. "My friends were in danger."

"You put your friends before Perseus...." They acknowledged, looking at the camera just above them. "I heard that this Iranian arms dealer...."

"Arash Kadivar." I said, helping them as they were having trouble to find that name according to their face.

"Yeah, that man, he shot you and left you for dead because he knew." They stated, all right in their words. "The CIA captured you and brainwashed you but...you're still helping after everything that happened."

"I'm not with the CIA, Sonya !" I exclaimed, almost raising my voice. "I'm working with the MI6."

"MI6, CIA & even the fucking BND, they're all the same !" They claimed, crossing their arms to me, I don't know if they were actually trying to make me back at their side. "All proclaiming the same shit."

"Welcome to the world of spies." I scoffed, trying to have an little smile on my face. "The MI6 isn't trying to kill me everyday unlike the CIA." I claimed.

"Everything is fake and you know it well." They proclaimed to me, an serious look on their face.

"No, not everything." I started, looking down at my hands. "There's things that can't be fake."  I added before I put my head up.

"And what are those ?" They demanded, curious.

"The discussions I had with you, they were not fake." I responded, putting my real thoughts about Sonya themselves.

"That's bullshit !" They spoke up, shaking their head away before their eyes met my face. "Wait, you're not bullshitting me ?" They asked and I shook my head.

"I was maybe acting as Bell but I was true in my words, Sonya." I claimed in an clear voice, full of truth. "Maybe that it's non-sense but it's true." I added.

"You're serious ?" I nodded to that question from them.

"I know that you're rude, agressive but...I like you." I explained, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "You're maybe rude because you don't want to see people knowing about your soft side."

"You don't know me." They whispered, sounding like an pleading to stop.

"In fact, you want to protect the soft side at all costs, you want to be good but everyone is forcing you to be an rude person." I told them even they wanted me to stop as the first tears were coming out of their eyes. "We knew each others for only days but deeply inside of you, you know that you can be better."

"Yirina." They muttered, cleaning the tears on their face with their hands. "I don't know how I can say this but....it must be one of the first good words that I heard in here." They snorted, slowly getting up. "It's hard at some times."

"I had an friend before....like you." I started, mentioning Zasha but pretending that they're dead since we're watched I don't want to put their life & Portnova's one in danger. "They were feeling oppressed because of who they were and me too." I added, looking with good eyes to them. "I was there for them and someone is here for you."

"I would have like to meet them to know more about they managed to get over it." Sonya spoke up with an grin on their face, their eyes filled with tears. "I'm guessing that...we're all facing an pain like that."

"We all do." I sniffed, passing my hands through my face. "We're all trying to find an bit of redemption here." I continued.

"Maybe." They muttered before suddenly, the door went widely open and it was Freya herself coming her, still dressed in the same military uniform for days now.

"Sonya, leave, I want a word with her." She ordered, pointing to them outside the cell.

"Freya, listen...."

"No, Sonya, you listen to me !" Freya cut Sonya straight in their words, still showing to them outside. "When I told you to leave, you leave." She repeated as Sonya took an deep breath before they resigned themselves to leave my cell, leaving me with Freya alone.

"What do you want ?" I questioned her, going back further on my bed to lean against the wall.

"I want to know things." She replied, moving to face me, standing up.

"You have to be precise, Freya." I muttered, looking at her with narrowed eyes. "You want to talk about my treason ? That I abandoned you ?" I continued, clenching my right fist on my right knee.

"I did mistakes." She breathed, deciding to get on the bed, away from me.

"Yeah, you blamed me for abandoning you, to betray Perseus but you abandoned me, remember ?" I told her in an almost angry voice. "You stole my mother's ring while I was dying on that airstrip." I made her recall that event, her eyes went wide at that.

"You remember that ?" I nodded to her slowly.

"I remember things but not everything." I stated, not wanting her to know more about my returning memories.  "You left me to die, letting me getting captured by the CIA, you betrayed me." I repeated to her the same words I told her days ago. "You chosed Perseus over me."

"I didn't have any choices, Yiri." She whispered.

"Don't call me like that, I'm not your 'Yiri' anymore." I ordered in an dark serious voice to her. "We were like sisters but slowly, you changed, you became one with Perseus and you started to be away from me."

"You too !" She spoke up, her head turning back to me after she was looking down in shame. "You became distant, only caring for your friends and now, look at you." She added, checking me from top to bottom.

"I'm well and better since I'm not longer with Perseus." I stopped her as she was going to continue to speak. "The MI6 gave me an chance to redeem myself for everything I have done under Perseus's wing." I exclaimed, proud to have changed in an very good way.

"Was it Park who gave you that chance ?" She asked me and I nodded. "Yeah, I should have know that." She thought to herself. "You know what she did and...you...you're with her ?"

"Maybe she did this by force or by her own will, I don't care !" I claimed, starting to thinking that even if Park did this because it was the only choice, I couldn't really blame her. "I love her because she was one of the few people that were believing me when I was Bell." I continued, feeling the sadness to say that to Freya herself. "She's still believes in me, other people too."

"You loved her....since when ?" She demanded, curious and sounding strangely normal to me.

"When I was Bell, I fell in love after we got our hands on Anton Volkov." I replied, seeing her face staying straight to me, very curious. "She forgave herself after I was told the truth and since, I'm still in love." I breathed as I moved back on the edge of the bed. "When I saw you starting to hit her, I couldn't resist anymore."

"I never thought of that." She whispered, looking away from me.

"I was broken with everything...what you did is still making me broken." I stated in an sad voice to her. "I'm afraid, Freya." I continued.

"But we are helping you to not be afraid anymore." She exclaimed again, moving to get next to me closely. "I want you to be better and...back to me." She expressed, making me look at her as she removed the mask that was covering her mouth. "Please, kiss me." She pleaded but I refused, standing up from the bed.

"No, I will not do that !" I bit my lips as I was angered about her moves towards me. "You're with Sonya, not with me." I snorted, putting my hands on my waist. "Tell me : did they come to you....or did you came to them ?" I demanded in an serious voice, turning around to face her, awaiting an answer.

"I came to them." She replied in an broken voice and by hearing that, I looked down at my feets, nearly shocked. "They didn't want at first but I was in need of love."

"You could have it if you weren't so believing in Perseus ideals." I stated as she looked back at me. "Do you realize that....you're still with them and that, you're willing to sacrifice that for an relation that can't be reborn ?" I questioned her and suddenly, she nodded to me. "Sonya love you...you're doing the same thing from 3 years ago."

"I don't want them to suffer." She sniffed, tears on her face.

"They're suffering because you're like that, change !" I suggested in an harsh tone. "I only know them for days and I could see that they were looking in pain because of everything." I proclaimed, pointing at the closed door of my cell.

"That's an risk to take." She claimed, making me realize that it was only me...only me for her.

"Yeah, you're not the Freya Helvig I once knew, the one that was my sister." I looked down and turning away from her. "You're risking everything for me but you know about it."

"I know." She said in an low voice as I could hear getting up.

"You know that I will never come back to you." I snorted again as suddenly, I could feel an sort of pain in my neck....I....when I put my hands at where it was hurting me, there were....an syringue at it. "What did you do ?" I asked her, worried as I removed the syringue by force.

"I'm sorry but I have no choices, Yirina." She was looking stoic before I put my hands on her, slowly starting to go into vapes.

"You...I will never...." I wanted to say as my legs went limp, causing me to fall back on the ground, losing control of me in that cell.

"You will come back and it will be with me !" She repeated her desires until my eyes closed, passing out on the ground.

She....she did  make me passed out again like she did at the Mount Yamantau, I didn't see that coming and now, inside of me, I was mostly fearing the damn worst. That wasn't the Freya Helvig I knew, something must have happened in her life that make her do that, an memory I still not got access to. Was it something in the past or something that started at the moment she saw me for the first time in April ? She was already like in 1980, it was surely during the past but what exactly ?

I couldn't know of that and I was trying to search through my mind as I was still unconscious, wondering that could do to me and Park. It was sure that my revelations I spoke up days again could have make some waves in the Perseus Collective and for that, they problably thinking that these talks as tests weren't useful anymore....I'm scared, afraid of what was going to happen to me and that fear came in me as I opened my eyes.

When I woke up maybe hours after Freya make me sleep, I discovered that I was attached in an sort of stretcher...in an medical room, my arms spreaded wide like an T-pose. Above me, an light that was almost blinding me and then, I could see Stitch and Freya, next to each other, looking at me with curious looks.....what are they doing ?

"I couldn't expect that she was going to recover this fast from the injection you made her." Stitch exclaimed, looking at Freya that was still having her eyes on me.

"That's our only way to bring her back home, Stitch, you know that." She said, her hands in the back, her eyes on me.

"What are you doing ?" I asked the two, scared before Freya moved to put her hands above my mouth.

"Ssshhh, let us help you." She whispered, holding my mouth firmly. "You will be mine again, Yiri, you will not change that." She added.

"You will be soon another experiment and we will make sure that you see good !" Stitch affirmed, giving me the worst fears I could have : they were planning...to brainwash me....again....

"No, no, no !" I yelled as Freya took an second to remover her hand from me before she put it back above my mouth, cutting my cries out as my eyes were crying.

"You're familiar with MK-Ultra so you already know the effects." Stitch explained, moving to get next to Freya. "You betrayed us but you will see that it's not good to do that." He continued until an door opened in the room, discovering Knight, dressed in his military suit.

"They did it, Stitch !" The man spoke up, holding an video tape in his hands. "They cleaned up the station in Verdansk." He added.

"Good, put it in the video recorder." He ordered as he make an sign to Freya herself and then, she put some tape on my mouth, avoiding me to talk and I wasn't able to move my body, only my head as the trio were starting to watch the tape.

On that tape, I could see that it was the images of an camera hold by an Perseus soldier under attack by someone and then, I could see....Woods himself, brandishing an pistol before shooting dead the soldier who fall on the ground. At my great horror, the camera was giving into the direction of an stretcher that was holding....Adler as Woods & also Sims as I could see were helping Adler to get up.

"They rescued Adler faster than predicted...." Stitch started as he was moving away from where he was leaned as Freya & Knight was looking at him. "No matter, our work with him...is done." He continued as the TV went off, meaning the end of the tape.

"So, we move forward ?" Freya asked, moving an little

"Not yet !" Stitch replied, slamming his fist against an sort of control panel on an sort of blueprint on it. "Their satellites are interfering with our broadcasts !" He continued as he was looking back at the two while me, I was worried about everything he was saying. "The Verdansk test subjects are in place but we are not getting through."

"They still don't know what we're doing." Freya remarked to him, pointing at the door in an quick movement

"We have the advantage." Knight told Stitch, holding an ice pick in his hands. "We should press it !"

"Our man in South Africa is standing by." Freya expressed, her hand still pointing at the door direction.

"Agreed ! All the pieces are in play." Stich said before he took an deep breath. "Make the call !" He ordered as Freya make an quick look with me before her & Knight left the room, leaving me with Stitch as he moved back to me, putting his hands on my mouth, establishing an fear in me with my still crying eyes......

"You can't escape this, you're belonging to us, Grigoriev !"

[ziracona]

hoh I'm really sorry friend but you got Talbot's backstory kinda muddled. Some things you stated that he did, he didn't actually do for the reasons you stated. He didn't experiment on killers just for fun -- he ran from them. they hunted him. he experimented on them to find a dosage right for himself. he also didn't experiment on an animal for fun. it was dead. Vigo apparently talked about escaping and it had to do with serum. Its why he injected himself after tests. He wanted a way out.

I’m going to answer this in two parts since it’s stated in two. First, friend, I am going to have to operate on the assumption that you have very very strong feelings about Talbot and assume everything said against him is pretty much the same after a glance or something like it, because I never once said he experiments on the killers for fun. I said the Entity I think lets Talbot experiment on other killers now that he is one too as “punishment for them and fun research times for Talbot,” not that Talbot experiments on them for fun. I think he does enjoy doing his scientific research, but that aside, the above is just a description of the Entity’s reasoning in letting him do that/its POV.  I certainly never said he does it ‘just for fun’. In fact, I explicitly stated his motivation for becoming a killer was to attempt to protect himself. I have to assume you didn’t really read my post at all, or perhaps got it confused with another. I know my shit. I read up. Though it is true I say ‘animals’ when, while he canonically experiments on both rats and crows, only the one rat happened for sure before he moved on to the Trapper. Although, that’s kind of worse... Again though, I never once said he did any of this for fun. I know he injected people to see what the serum would do, in a very reckless and poorly thought attempt to escape the realm. I explicitly mention this. Perhaps you are confused because I describe him as torturing people, and he’s not just doing pain for fun--this is because torture is not limited to only pain inflicted on someone out of cruelty or a desire to manipulate them. The dictionary definition of the verb, to torture, is “To cause intense suffering. To torment”. And he absolutely tortures killers, survivors, and reanimated realm animals alike as a means to his own ends. Also, the Entity has not erased all his memories--I know the archives has some memory deterioration lore added, but much of what he did to others happened well before any of that began, and explicitly some of his own addons mention things he explicitly remembers. The Entity did of course leave him to suffer in the void, with is a form of torture, and used the medical affects of blight itself to help manipulate him. Unfortunately, being hurt yourself doesn’t excuse you from the responsibility of what horrors you inflict on other people.

For part two, I am sure my answer is coming off as a bit abrasive. I appreciate the apology, but yes, it is rather rude. Even without the lack of attention to detail. Let me try to say this more fairly though, because I don’t know you at all, and in all likelihood, you’re a very nice and decent person who doesn’t mean anything by this, and simply has deep feelings about this character. Also, this isn’t all directed just at you, but to some degree at everybody who has sent me one of these in the past, or will in the future, which I am very tired of. I am going to quit answering most of them from here on.

First of all, I understand feeling deeply about a character or topic. I understand being frustrated or even hurt when you see opinions that distress you, or seem unjust compared to what you believe. That’s natural, and even sweet. And I am all for talking about how you feel and think and why, and leaving that in the tags so other people might hear what you have to say. Even for messaging people to see if they want to have a discussion with you. It’s endearing when people love things and want to fight for them. I only describe Talbot as more interesting than many of the others, because I was not asked specifically about my sympathy level, and it doesn’t factor high in importance to me where he is concerned, but you’re not wrong that Talbot is more sympathetic--or, at least, depending on interpretation, much more capable of being written sympathetic while adhering to canon--than many of the other killers. That said, he’s also--completely in line with canon--interpretable as pretty monstrous. I don’t think I necessarily paint him heavily either direction. Simply I personally feel fairly little sympathy for someone who commits the kinds of dehumanizing acts of scientific research torture on war prisoners without a second thought, ignores the consequences of his actions, and so quickly casts his humanity aside when in tribulation. He devolves from someone who could have changed and been good, to a man who is a horrific monster and cares only for him self, with no lines he will not cross (his own words, and pre-killer even). And to some people, that is tragic. To me, I feel little kinship for the man he was before, and am simply disappointed in him for failing so easily and completely. I can see why someone might interpret his character quite differently, but my take is just as valid in line with canon, and it’s mine. 

I don’t mind people telling me their thoughts, and I don’t mind reading takes in the tags. And again, I very much understand the desire to stand up for something you care about if you feel it is wronged. But that’s not really what you’ve done here, messaging me on anonymous. To the best of my knowledge, I have never even interacted with you before. You didn’t open a discussion with me; you talked down to me, and you decided to argue with me about a topic I did not invite anyone into debate with myself. I am not an opinion blog, or a discussion blog. I am a personal blog. But still, you were discontent to not go into my space and try to scold me about my own opinions as a stranger. And you did all of it on anonymous, where there is no tag attaching anything you said even to your online persona, and no way for me to even be assured of you seeing an answer, or entering any dialogue with me. Which means that the goal, subconsciously probably since I know nothing at all about you and have no reason at all to think you’re anything but a decent person who is a bit carried away today with love for Talbot Grimes, but still the goal, was never to have a dialogue with me in the hopes maybe I would see and like your reasoning and we could talk about something we both have an interest in. It was that you felt so entitled to dictate someone you don’t know’s opinion about something they disagree with you on, that you felt compelled to leave a missive instructing me to correct my wrongs in my inbox. 

Which, well, is rude.

This is probably a bit more, uh, ‘icy’? Than is totally necessary. I really am not angry at all; I understand you probably had no real ill will towards me doing this. I just have this happen a lot, and I am tired of it, so I want an easy frame of reference to link back to for why I find this behavior rude and cowardly and an unasked for nuisance--badly intentioned consciously or not. I truly am sorry if this makes you feel bad or distressed to read, especially if you’re a younger fan. I truly am not mad at you--and I do not at all think or mean to imply you are a bad person. Everybody is occasionally thoughtless. It’s not remotely representative of character. But please don’t keep doing this to people who aren’t interested in a debate. And if you believe in something enough you want to take the discussion to someone else, sign your name to it. If you feel enough conviction to make something someone else’s problem, make it your problem for real too. I’m truly not mad though, and wish you the best.

(and my ‘if you are annoyed by this or any of my other personal opinions and desperately want me to read your thoughts on anon about that’ requirements below the cut)

It’s literally not worth my time to read anon hate or people upset I don’t like a serial killer, so if you for some wild incomprehensible reason really feel a need to see me read that and answer to you instead of just delete and/or block without a look, then either leave my $5 on my Kofi, or get used to knowing I didn’t even read it.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I have to actually get paid to not file that shit under ‘I’m not paid enough to deal with this’. 

[solacefruit]

Hi Grey, I struggle a lot with world building and I think it's easiest for me to learn by example. I was wondering if you had any books or series you'd recommend that you thought did particularly well in the world building department or that you found inspiring. I'm trying to start building a list of things to read, could be any genre

Hello there and thank you for your patience! I’ll be honest, this one’s a challenge to answer, but I’ll do my best. I’ll put it all under a read-more, because I’m going to talk a lot about why I feel these books are good places for thinking about world-building. 

Northern Lights, by Philip Pullman. (fantasy)

This one comes up a lot when I’m making recommendations and that’s because I love it. For me, it was deeply formative in many ways, and especially when it came to world-building, because Pullman uses a style of world-building which really clicks for me--which is basically throwing your reader into a world and not explaining much at all, leaving many things gestured at but never explicitly said. Things just happen, things just are, and the reader has to keep up. There’s a lot that goes unsaid in this book, and it means you as a reader have to start thinking and “solving” the gaps in the world yourself. There’s room for speculation and I thrive in that environment, and lean on it heavily in my own work. 

A great example of that comes in the first chapter of the novel, on the fifth page and then again on the seventh: 

“As Lyra held her breath she saw the servant’s daemon (a dog, like almost all servants’ daemons) trot in and sit quietly at his feet...” - page five. “... and said something to his daemon. He was a servant, so she was a dog; but a superior servant, so a superior dog. In fact, she had the form of a red setter.” - page seven.

That’s good oblique storytelling, because you are told so much and simultaneously so little. From these two tiny pieces, you now know that:

servants usually have dog-shaped daemons

some daemons, even within a family, are “better” than others

daemons mean something about their person

But these pieces tell you enough that you can now speculate and question the world as you read on. Things like:

why do servants have dog daemons?

what makes a red setter daemon better than another dog daemon?

what does a dog daemon mean?

what is the hierarchical system of daemons, who is better than whom?

are people sorted because of their daemons, or do the daemons reflect where the person is sorted to after the fact? 

what do other daemons mean?

are these meanings innate or cultural? 

The book itself will directly answer maybe one or two questions, hint at a few others, and leave many completely unresolved. But that’s not bad world-building. For me, that’s the kind of world-building I love best. The book can now say, “this person’s daemon is a butterfly,” and you will be primed to read symbolism and significance into that, even in moments where the book itself doesn’t give you any. You’re a participant in creating the world as you read. A little goes a long way. 

The Discworld novels, by Terry Pratchett. (fantasy, comedy) If you’re trying to pick a first book, start here. 

And now for something completely different. Pratchett’s Discworld is an absurdist world, created to satirise fantasy tropes and play as the stage for social and political commentary. What makes Discworld so interesting as a place to learn about world-building is that it is a world that doesn’t take chronology or “consistency”  or “authenticity” seriously. Where a lot of fantasy writers will stress over making sure every detail lines up, and their fans will often get very upset if they find anything “inconsistent” or “incorrect”, Pratchett’s world entirely rejects that way of doing things. Pratchett commented: 

 “[S]ometimes I even forget [...] where things are ... I don’t think [...] even the most rabid fan expects complete consistency within Discworld, because in Ankh-Morpork you have what is apparently a Renaissance city, but with elements of early Victorian England, and the medieval world is still hanging on. It’s in a permanent state of turmoil, which is very interesting for the author.” (quoted in Hills, Guilty of Literature).

There’s something very liberated and fluid in how Discworld forms, because it’s such a committed pastiche, but it doesn’t at all (at least, for me) undercut believing in the characters or story. I adore Discworld and its characters. I think it’s very valuable to read if you’re in fantasy writing (or speculative fiction in general), because it’s easy to fall into thinking that unless you make everything Perfect and Realistic and Consistent, your world-building isn’t good. 

Something else about Discworld worth noting is that, despite being absurd and fluid, it is also grounded in the real. Pratchett’s world is in turmoil, but it includes sewer systems, passages of trade and commerce, and a pervasive sense of the civic life happening and living outside of the plot-line: it’s not just a diorama to be walked through, but a place where people exist and do mundane things and have everyday needs. I personally find it fascinating that the story manages to exist sort of balancing at oppositional ends of the “realism” spectrum at all times, but I think that’s also the key to why it is so successful at what it does. 

(Side note: Matt Hills’ chapter in Guilty of Literature is a great read if you want to know more!) 

Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie (science fiction)

I’m not a big reader of science fiction, because my heart is with fantasy, always. But this series was super interesting and I can recommend it, especially if science fiction is more your flavour! It’s been a while since I’ve read it, so I can’t give the same amount of detail as I’ve done above, but it was thoughtful and intriguing and I loved the ways this trilogy defamiliarised and refamiliarised ideas through the world and characters. 

“The Ones who Walk Away from Omelas,” by Ursula K. Le Guin. (short story)

It’s only four pages long, but it’s haunting. I’ve put this story on the list because I feel like Ursula K. Le Guin belongs in many conversations about world-building; her work, in her time, was often radical--and remains so, in many cases. She didn’t flinch away from making her worlds alien, not in the sense of writing about space and people out among the stars (which admittedly she did also do!), but truly questioning and challenging cultural and societal norms and creating new ones, even (and especially) when they were uncomfortable to the status quo. 

To me, that’s a core part of good world-building. You can just recreate the world we live in, with all the biases we’re raised to have, with the beliefs and expectations of conduct we have, with all the same bigotry--or you can push yourself to pull it all apart and pick from it the pieces you want to play with. You can push things to their extreme limits, or erase them entirely, or just... slide things a little to the left and make the whole world slightly off. Being able to be flexible in your thinking is vital for making vivid, interesting worlds, and Ursula K. Le Guin's work is a place you can start exploring that kind of thing if you’re unfamiliar with it. 

For instance, in her novel Left Hand of Darkness, there is only one pronoun (a theme you’ll notice in Ancillary Justice) and the people of the planet Gethin change sex regularly. In her collection of short stories, “The Birthday of the World and Other Stories,” she writes about sedoretu, a four-way marriage she invents, as well as exploring gender, religion, culture, and society. Any of these are worth taking a look at, if you’re feeling a little boxed in. 

However, despite saying all this: I don’t really enjoy her writing! I don’t have fun reading Le Guin’s work in practice; it doesn’t mesh with me beyond my delight at the conceptual elements she discusses. I often feel about reading her work like how kids think about medicine: tastes kind of awful, but it’s good for you. I’m grateful to her for paving the way, but I don’t read her work for fun. 

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making, by Catherynne M. Valente. 

I’m throwing this one in the ring for a few reasons. One is that I am heavily indebted to nonsense; I grew up on Dr Seuss, Roald Dahl, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland + Alice Through the Looking-glass, Edward Gorey, A. A. Milne, H. R. Pufnstuf, and a little later, A Series of Unfortunate Events and Discworld. This book feels representative of that big love, and taps into what I love about nonsense. 

Another reason is that it’s a good example of what I think of as delightful lawlessness in storytelling. It feels--as respectfully and lovingly as I can say this--like a game of mad libs turned into a book, because of how free and wild it is with what is allowed to happen. I think it’s very difficult to do something like this well, but I also think it’s a great place to play around when you’re first beginning to get to grips on world-building. Spin a wheel of options and go, “okay, so there’s a manticore in the basement, what now?” Make up reasons for things on the spot as a game for yourself. Ask and answer questions, just for fun! “Why is there a manticore there?”  “It got in through the magic portal.”  “Where’s the magic portal?”  “It’s an old picture of the protagonist’s grandmother.”  “Why is it a portal?” “The grandmother is secretly a witch and the ex-queen of a fantasy land.” “Why is the manticore here?” “Come to retrieve the queen, but accidentally takes the protagonist by mistake.” “Why does the manticore want the queen?” “Extreme Trivia Night at the Castle has really sucked lately. Also she misses her.” And just like that, you’ve got the start of a wacky but not impossible-to-tell story.  

My final suggestion isn’t a book, but a podcast!

Be The Serpent (a podcast of extremely deep literary merit). 

A fortnightly podcast by three charming writers who discuss a different theme or topic each episode (using a couple of texts as reference material), and will also make media recommendations. I love listening to it and it’s a great place to think about writing, both as a reader and as a writer. I don’t have a lot of writing friends myself, unfortunately, so it’s honestly so valuable to me to be able to hear them discuss their process and ideas on topics I care about. 

I hope this helps! Best of luck to you, and please feel free to write in if you have any other questions. 

[iguanasarecute]

"Runaway Nun" [Bakugou x Reader]

summary: the esteemed priest, Shouto Todoroki molested you. You were incognizant that the demon of lust, Asmodeus; corrupted the heterochromia cleric. Hurtling off the synagogue; you rammed into the well-known thief in your solemn village. The noted mugger which petrifies town-folks, Katsuki Bakugou.

contains: medieval europe, offensive to catholics, sadism, sexual-harassment, smut, demons, explicit, may trigger! read at your own risk

[Start]

His tight grip on your tighs echoed in your corrupted memory. The way he forcefully brushed in his hard throbbing member on yours. His serrated fangs you were unaware about, nibbling your tender tegument. He thrived for schadenfreude, as he scrutinized your bleeding coats.

You vamoosed; hastily breaking out the hell-hound, so called house of worship. Your portentous white veil slipping off your silky looms; the symbol of virginity and virtuousness washed away by the honoured reverend. Warm blood was crawling throughout your body, habit marinated with sweat and the red-fluids spiralling at your soft untouched skin.

The tranquility of the village as the glooming moon lit above kept you concealed. 'Where shall I go now I neglect the tabernacle?' Your barefoot was bleeding as it hit the rough cemented road; you catch for air, panting at a side of a pantry shop. 'The mountains is such a proper place to build a new life, raise animals, plant vegetables for daily meals—'

      "Oi! You there! Lady!" A husky voice roared, making you stumble in surprise. Can it be the ecclesiastics on forage to seek you? Your body was stupefied, eyeballs round at the thought of setting foot at the synagogue once again, "Are you deaf?!"

     The shivering hands of yours mumbled silent prayers. Your faith was shattered moments ago, but you grasped at the one last hope you have, a miracle, "I am no deaf. I can hear thou clearly. I command you stay away from me, Sir, please," you pleaded still not turning back. Being meters away from a male, made you reminisce about the dominie.

He clicked his tongue, "I can deal with that. Why are thee out of the shelter this time—" the male squinted his eyes, scrutinizing your barefoot washed in your own red-fluid, "Gadbudlikins! Lady, are you bleeding?!" The male grabbed you on the shoulders, "Oi!"

"Halt!" You pushed him, feeling his muscular figure. Your eyes gazed at him, adjusting at the illuminated location, "Are you who I'm thinking it is?"

The male glared at your blood marinated temples, his crimson-red eyes went round, following the direction of your dripping blood, "(Y/N)?! Bloody hell! What happened to—" his rough hands swayed your hair, leering at your scars.

"Halt thief! Do not come near me! I got nothing!" Your voice cracked, shifting your eyes to the crucifixion necklace resting on your bloody neck, "All I have is this gold necklace! Please let me offer this to thou Bakugou, do not touch me!"

"The amount of fucks I give to thee is none," The ash-blonde hissed, furrowing his brows at your petrified state, "What happened? How may I offer a help—" A clash of metal knocked on the pastry-shop's door.  The Ash-blonde gave you an alarming look, pulling you flat on the wall.

Your bruises brushing on the rough cemented wall, struggling at his tight grip. Is he going to perform what was done to you lately? "Do not lay your hands—"

Bakugou cupped your mouth with his warm palm, "Hush. Now is not the time to act like a cunt! Those are the the insufferable armoured Watch aiming for my head," You silenced, obliging to avoid being caught also.

The pastry-shop's door opened; a female gasped at the sight of the metal armoured pack, "Sirs, our bakery is not open this time around!"

"Our presence isn't here for thy pastry; but to ask some questions," one of the Watcher coughed, "Have thou sighted Sister (Y/N)? The mademoiselle was lost; the high-priest, Father Endeavor instructed us to search for her,"

The female baker blinked, "I have not descry on Sister (Y/N). However, I will inform the convent if ever I sighted her. An offering to strengthen my faith in God is to help those who are instruments of his miracles. I shall lend all of what I can do to help Father Endeavor,"

Bakugou gazed at your petrified state, the two of you harking on the conversation, "(Y/N), come with me and I shall hide thee,"

"Can I be hidden? The convent must be in search of me! All of them are seeking for me, and I do not want to be found!" You rasped, "Shall I die? Is this the end of my presence here in this sinful world?" She sighed, "How can thou keep me hidden?! You cannot,"

The Ash-blonde clicked his tongue, "How do you think I stayed uncaught?  I'm the village's mightiest known thief,"

— • —

Your blood-marinated body rested on the soft, cushioned mattress. The shrouded underground room of his, radiated by the candles displayed around his breezy habitat. Your aching head gleamed up on the town's well-known thief, "I give my thanks to thee for keeping me in. Though it does not veil thy sinful soul for violating the seventh-commandment," you growled.

"What the sard is the seventh-commandment?!" The ash-blonde roared, badging your wounds with a cloth, "You look like butt-arse. Can you dip in the tub?!"

"I refrain to glimpse on I, wearing nothing," you mumbled, "You do not have my trust Bakugou; I may not know what happened to you that caused you to become such sinful person. Yet, I plead for you to don't touch me in any manner. I shall ask for thy attention if I do not feel that well. However for now, I need some time alone,"

The ash-blonde scoffed, "May I know why in the bloody world you're covered in blood atleast?!"

Your head went completely blank, shooking your head to convince yourself that the incident with the heterochromia cleric didn't occured, "Now is not the time for thee to grasp the information. Yet I shall indeed tell thee the reason I eventuated into a bloody nun, soon,"

The creaky wooden door slammed open, you gripped on the Ash-blonde's muscular arms for protection; you thought both of you were the only one in the isolated habitat. A red-haired and blonde peeked, eyes-widening. Bakugou clicked his tongue, gazing at your stupefied expression, "(Y/N), shall I give you your command which states that you fancy some time alone?"

"It's Sister (Y/N)," your eyes rolled, correcting him. You were not used to not being honored as a server even though your faith is shattering, "Are... are those Kirishima and Kaminari from astrology and rhetoric class?" Your head tilted, releasing your tight clasp on his arms, "I am not aware you keep in touch with them; knowing also thy burglar actions on synagogues and on affluent villagers," Katsuki clicked his tongue, standing up to reach the door, leaving you alone inside the concealed room.

"Is that Sister (Y/N)?!" Eijirou eyed his Crimson-red eyed friend.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Affirmative, you butt-arses!"

Kaminari scratched the back of his head, "Kacchan, don't thy think that you are taking 'stealing' from Catholic-fucks to far?" He cackled, "Sister (Y/N) really? Thou

shall not just steal her off just because she's your—"

"Shut-up you penis!" Bakugou growled.

The red-haired gagged, "You are well aware that they are seeking for her?"

"I am," Katsuki nodded, "I forbid you penises to enter my room. She... she seems startled about seeing people,"

— • —

A week had slip through, yet you were still traumatized with the agonizing moment with the heterochromia reverend. You did managed to tidy yourself up, changing your habit nun outfit with the cloak, the petrifying thief provided you. The ash-blonde indeed cared, supplying you with your needs, restraining as you preferred. Your eyes glared at him, "Katsuki," you mumbled.

He froze on the spot, "You need something else Sister (Y/N)?"

You chuckled, "Thee shall forget about my moronic Nun phase," her eyes rolled, "Don't you think that Nun honorific makes me sound like a hag? It was just a couple of years since I went in the covent,"

Bakugou raised his eyebrows, "Alright, (Y/N)," his tongue clicked, "Do thee need something else to comply with thy needs?"

You shook your head, "I am fine. Just wanted to thank you," you gave him a smile, "Thy love may evaporated long ago but ye managed to serve and respect I,"

Bakugou's tongue clicked, "My love for you never evaporated," his crimson-red eyes glared intensely at you, "(Y/N)... I shall not deny, I still do care for thou,"

You were agape, "I am still longing for you too," your mouth went dry, "The synagogue might change who I am; but you're the piece before my Nun-phase that never withered,"

The ash-blonde pinched the bridge of his nose, "Then why did thou turn into a fucking Nun?" His jaw clenched, "Thou have no idea how I check up on you on how you are doing in the convent! Those fuckers!" Bakugou roared, "I thought you wouldn't let go. We talked about growing together," his deep voice cracked.

"Do not let that slip of your mind that we also talked about our parted ways," A tear was breaming down your cheeks, "Katsuki... Thou are also the reason why I went in the convent. I couldn't... I couldn't get you out of my thoughts," you catched for air, "I thought serving the all-mighty would help me to get thou out of my heart,"

Bakugou grunted, "I— I ask for thee forgiveness. It was both our reckless decision to separate. Yet, after a month of parting, I was indeed upset when you decided to serve the basilica. I was melancholy... I am deeply aware that that decision of thee would mean I can no longer call you mine,"

"Why shall you do sinful actions then? It was agonizing! I could not bear the fact that the man I love was hunted by tons of villagers. Katsuki... they want your head," Your voice suddenly cracking.

His tan head shook, "That's why those Christian butt-arses are a pile of shit!" He groaned, "Those corrupt leprechauns' are bathing on golds! Indulgence— eat shit! I steal and give it to the needy; those who deserve it,"

You blinked, "Thou investigate on the synagogues' dark side? Since when?"

He roared, "Since you came in that convent. I would want to be informed what happens inside it," he coughed, "Also unseen ladies after performing a room confession? Telling the village they might be taken by 'god.' Those misogynistic penises should die! They're probably harassed—" He ceased as he gazed at your thunder-stricken expression.

"I...umm... the day thou sighted me blood-coated, I escaped the clutches of the house of worship. Because I was molested," you gulped.

Bakugou's crimson-red eyes shot, "HAHHHHHHHH?! Who did—"

"Father Todoroki," You monotonously announced.

"WAIT UNTIL I RIP THAT—"

"Katsuki, please don't," you sighed, "I want to burn it, until that scene can no longer be pictured in my mind. As if it never happened," you glared at the raging male, "I shall not go back to the convent and plan to continue a tranquil life on the mountains," you sat up, "Can thou come with me?"

— • —

"You need punishment for being a bad, bad, boy, remember?" Your hands grasped on a rope, knotting his wrists at the wooden headboard, moving on his ankles to tighten the rope.

Bakugou growled, "I didn't know you like it with ropes," he spat. You shook your head, crawling on his tummy; gazing at the clothing veiling his abs. You licked your lips, as you slid your hands under the cloth that serves as the barrier from your skin to his. Your soft fingers curved as you felt every hard ab slid through.

Your eyes turned to the tied ash-blonde, lust etched on his eyes, "How shall I get rid of thy clothing if thy arms are tied?" You tilted your head, zooming at the desk; a sharp scissor caught your attention, "Might as well cut it?" You grabbed the serrated scissors, pinching it on while you bite your lips; parting it on half, as his bare chest gleamed your eyes. A sly smirk etched on Bakugou's face, letting you do whatever's in your mind.

Moaning at the sight of it, your tongue licked every ab, nuzzling, biting; while your hands played with his tits. Your tongue spread out, leaving no part untouched. You earned a moan from the male; as you grind on the squeaking mattress. Your pussy pressured on his v-line, making the Ash-blonde moan. You grind faster, and harder; Feeling his hardened cock under his pants, you hummed. Grinding more, you licked his v-line, making him shiver. Until you licked all the way up, nibbling and biting on his neck, giving him hickeys. A moan of pleasure released his mouth, biting down his skin, as you pulled his soft hair. You bit his ears, "Thou cannot move, can you? Poor, poor, boy,"

His muscular body tensed, attempting to escape the ropes. To have a turn to touch you. The wrists of his trembled, making the headboard bang on the wall. You giggled at how thirsty he is; how hard he desires his cock to be in your wet vagina. Your lips slapped his mumbling mouth, aggresively. You bit his lower lip, biting and licking until you tasted his blood. You licked his teeth to tease, until your tongue collided with his. A smirk etched on his face, finally, tasting you. His tongue knotted your lips, releasing soft moans, "(Y/N)... please let me go. I want to make thou feel how you're making me feel right now," You shook your head, nuzzling on his neck once again, as you crawled under his pants. His hips hopped, as you pushed his pants down; licking your lips at the size of his member. You licked his shaft, he trims his hairs down there, and it really turned you on. His hips buried on the squeaking mattress, as you explore his member licking it down to his muscular legs. You brushed his penis with your clothed vagina. Your hole even though covered, felt how hard he is for you. Your body felt floating as you licked his shaft once more, glaring at the veins spiralled on it. Crawling back to the Ash-blond's chest you stamped a smirk, "Fine, I shall let you go! Thou hard throbbing penis gave me sensation, and I want it in me," You crawled onto his lower part, releasing the knot, while you completely slid off his pants. You bit his tighs as you wriggled to work on his tied wrists.

You sighed, as his wrists breathed, smacking you down the bed, "Sweetheart, it's time for thy punishment," his rough hands aggressively tore your clothing. In a blink of an eye, your were quickly stripped. His warm palms cupped your breast while he bit your lips, also making you bleed. Bakugou then licked your neck, nibbling and giving you love-bites. He sucked you breasts, while you moaned at the painful pleasure. He wasn't joking around when he said punishment because he started grinding on your tighs as you felt his tip poking your clit. His tongue zoomed, licking your wetness; while he positioned himself inside, "Punishment for being so sexy," Your fingers grasped the sheets, while his hard member went in your tight hole. Moans of pleasure escaped your mouth as his cock fully entering you. He started pumping, your hands grabbed his Ash-blonde looms for support, "I'm... cumming— Ahhhh bloody hell!"

---

[ prolly an hour after tHoU had sex ]

The scent of pottage stew circulated your cozy cottage at the halo-white mountain. You would never be weary of the branches creaking while the brisk wind spiralled outside. Bakugou and you moved here three-years ago; it was the sublime lifestyle you longed for. An unsophisticated cottage, farm animals, your exquisite garden. Not to mention Katsuki Bakugou with you.

A thumping on the door made you jump in surprise, "Who may that be?"

The Ash-blonde scoffed, "It's just Shitty hair and Dunce face on their daily visits,"

You nodded, sprinting on the door to see the expected guests. Though, the person who knocked certainly isn't an expected person. Your eyes went round, legs trembling, as you felt tears running down your cheeks, "Todoroki,"

END | Reblog for continuation

part 2 contains: the demon of lust, Asmodeus; the basilica's mysteries; High-Priest Endeavor, the unknown father of Shouto the cleric

—

I kinda made some research for tHyYy to read a kinda accurate medieval story lol

credits to the artist for the featured photo

more lemons: [tap synagouge emojis] ⛪️ ; ⛪️ ; ⛪️

[ameliarating]

Yo, Villain anon is back, took me a while due to RL duties, but I'm not missing out on learning more about both sides of the "villain discourse" and broaden my views. On to point 1 "Expectations": I see, I think that's the crux of the problem, that these people expect ALL fictional characters who the narrative paints to be on the "good" side have to have the same views and responses to a villain as they have, which is not only boring but also highly unrealistic when individual free will is 1/2

2/2 part of the story at hand. I also haven't yet seen any fanwork where the entire cast of the "Good guys" is forced to completely forgive the villain. The phrase "Forgiveness doesn’t mean that the forgiver has to accept the person they are forgiving back with open arms." also exists which means not even those who DO forgive have to necessarily accept the villain with open arms. But giving a truly remorseful villain a chance to get better elsewhere instead of killing them off is worth exploring

Yeah, I completely agree with you there. I’m all about second chances, for villains, for heroes, for everyone.

On to point 2 "Tropes": Haha, looks like I fall into the same trap some of the "Antis" do, doesn't it? Looking at it from all sides it is kind of stupid that fan works are scrutinized this deeply when "canon" works that actually get published worldwide sometimes use these Tropes in harmful ways as well. People rant about that too and are allowed to get upset about them, but it rarely goes as far as personally attacking the authors, often because they have money, lawyers and other privileges 1/2

2/2 at hand. Take i.e. George R.R. Martin as an example. Much of the stuff he writes about in ASoIaF is genuinely fucked up, be it violence, abuse and sexual all the same, yet no one is openly accusing Martin of being a villain apologist, secretly into rape/incest or a pedophile. Likewise is shipping characters who totally hate each other like hero/villain or abuser/victim in most cases fucked up? 'course it is, but if you can give Martin the benefit of the doubt why not the fan authors?

I’d never thought about that! You’re absolutely right. I mean, I do hear people taking Martin to task for all sorts of things in his writing, but never like that. Never calling him an apologist or implying that he wants the world to be any sort of way. 

"And it’s unclear who’s doing the bullying here." In most cases where this applies the characters portrayed doing this are friends/allies of the victim char who have already forgiven the villain. A recent example would be from Kingdom Hearts 0.2 where the good guys largely accept the character Axel/Lea on their side because he helped save the protagonist. Beforehand in the story though he worked for the bad guys and kidnapped a girl. Now they propose that girl train with this guy 1/2

2/2 and when she's understandably upset about being paired with her kidnapper for training one of her best friends and a supposed teacher figure (who is actually frickin' Mickey Mouse) swipe her concerns aside by stating that he's definitely on their side now. That is a CANON event though, nothing written in any fanwork.

Oh man, I’m a fake KH fan. And by that I mean, I know next to nothing about Birth by Sleep, so I don’t have much to comment on there except that that sounds really obnoxious (the writing and story, not your comment). I certainly don’t like it when characters who are supposed to be “good” do bad things that the narrative endorses. 

Knowing Axel, I can certainly imagine that he might have been on the side of good (or maybe I just want that to be the case, I do love him) there. I get wary about people complaining about things like this sometime, because so often when people are talking about characters being forced to forgive, they also end up talking about characters not deserving forgiveness.

I agree with you though - I think characters should be allowed to be forgiven, but I don’t like it when the narrative forces it.

Last but not least point 3 "Star Wars": Yea, the old EU had some true gems and some really idiotic stuff running for it (like the whole plot with the resurrected Emperor), but in many cases it helps fleshing out the stuff the movies neglected. The new EU by Disney also does that, including with TV series like Rebels. Deciding not to focus on someone's crimes to make a character more easily redeemable is all fine and dandy, but one can't really blame people for seeing it as relativizing and 1/2

sweeping things under the rug when the crimes are so obviously severe than anything that reasonably could be forgiven. Crimes getting swept aside or "buried" by focusing on positive things concerning a person is something that real world media do all the time and due to the whole social networks nowadays more people are aware of it than i.e. 1977 when the first Star Wars movie was made. That's why I can see many people having a problem with this way of storytelling and to set "wrong priorities".

Here’s where I disagree with you. I actually can “blame” people for seeing it as relativizing (though I’m not sure exactly what this word would mean here) and sweeping things under the rug. Well, I wouldn’t use the word “blame” but I think they’re missing the point of what a story can do.

Stories focus on things. That’s the point of stories. And in cases where no one real is actually getting hurt, I don’t actually think there should be anything unforgivable in a story so long as it is written well. As far as I’m concerned, anything can be reasonably forgiven if the story makes a good case for it. Which is not to say all characters must forgive any one character (see the case of Axel above) but if a character does forgive another character, then sure, why not. That can happen. It can certainly happen in fiction.

I also don’t agree that people in 1977 were less aware that real crimes are swept under rugs to push real life narratives. That’s always happened. And as always, having things be okay in fiction are not the same thing as having it be okay in real life.