#IT DON'T LOOK LIKE SURVIVAL BUT BUY NOW OR DIE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seospicybin · 2 years

Text

PLUTO.

PART I

Chapters: Part II / Epilogue

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: Knowing that your life will end soon, you choose to have your desired death by making a pact with the devil with a red hair, Hyunjin. (16,7k words)

Author's note: This was supposed to be a Halloween fic but it seems like New Year is the perfect time to release it. It's about renewal and awakening but with a little bit of chaos in it.

Warning: Mentions sulcidal thoughts and may be triggering. Reader discretion is advised!

Which one is worse: Living or dying first?

You asked yourself as you stood there rethinking all of your decisions that led to this.

A gust of wind blowing your white dress, cold and harsh, like a slap in the face.

You let out a heavy sigh, the steam of your breath formed a curl of white smoke against the dark of the night.

You looked down, down below from the top of the building where everything seemed so small and people looked like specks of dust, looked down beyond your quivering feet, so high you couldn't even see the bottom, the concrete that would welcome you when you plunge to your death.

Was it a good decision? You asked yourself.

Death is easy.

A stab to the heart, a drop of poison, a cardiac arrest, a hypoxia.

Life is hard.

You wake up to another day of a mundane, dull life, work, home, sleep, eat, sigh and do it all over again the next day. Life is pain itself and everybody dies at the end.

You either die now or later, what makes the difference?

All you need was one jump then it's all over.

Death is that easy.

You took a shaky breath, whether it was from the cold or the fear creeping from the inside, a survival instinct in you that told you to get off the ledge and into the safe side.

You carefully put your leg up and are ready to leap, your mind went blank.

You screamed at the vast night sky because the silence got too deafening then like your brain betrayed you, shut you down before you make the worst mistake of your life, you got off the ledge.

You almost slipped and fell off the top of the building just like how you planned, but you found a hand that grabbed yours. Slender fingers decorated with metal rings, pale and hot to the touch, wrapped around your waist, holding you from falling, from death.

He helped you get off the ledge by lifting you by the waist then put you down gently, away from the edge of the building.

"You're hot," you said.

"It's not the first time I heard that," he said with a teeth-baring grin.

You shook your head, "I mean, you're literally hot," you corrected yourself, it was like he had spent hours by the fire and absorbed all of the heat.

He didn't reply but shoved his hands into the pocket of his dress pants.

"How ironic!" He suddenly said.

"An angel," he said, pointing to you who was dressed in an angel costume with its halo headband, "and a devil," he said, placing his hand on his chest to present himself, "met on a rooftop of a building,"

Your eyes were blurry with tears that made you realize that you were crying, cheeks wet and flushed from the cold.

"An angel about to fall but the devil helps her get off the ledge," he finished.

Did he see everything?

You roughly wiped your tears to see him better.

He was wearing a three-piece suit as black as the night, long hair, slicked back, red like hellfire. He has a small face, pale white skin, and small but smoldering eyes, then the lips, red and plump, like a cherry.

He looked at you with his head slightly tilted to the side, observing you like you were an object that intrigued his mind.

And if he weren't blinking, you would have mistaken him as a statue, a perfectly carved marble statue more beautiful than David by Michelangelo.

"Why don't I buy you some drinks and you can tell me how you got here?" He offered, one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, forming a sinister smile.

You hugged yourself, either your body was seeking warmth or trying to comfort yourself, considering his offer like solving a math problem.

And he took a step closer, held out his hand at you.

You were slightly shivering from the cold, you started to get a runny nose and the invitation suddenly got so tempting, knowing that his hand would offer you some warmth.

You nodded and let him lead you back inside.

He didn't take you back to the Halloween party your company was having, he took you somewhere else, an empty lounge bar that you didn't know even existed in the building.

He welcomed you to sit on one of the stools that face the counter then he stood, took his suit jacket off in an elegant manner, folded it then placed it on the next stool next to you.

He smiled when he caught you watching him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows without blinking, he spared you from being embarrassed by hurriedly going behind the counter.

He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward at you, "what do you want to drink?" He asked you with eyes pierced right into yours.

"Anything," you answered. You couldn't decide when it felt like all the knowledge in your brain suddenly vanished when he looked at you dead in the eyes like that.

He squinted his eyes as he thought of something to make for you.

"I think I know the perfect drink for you," he said then went on to grab everything.

It was so riveting, seeing him gathering all the ingredients and pouring them one by one into a shaker: ice, red liquid, red-colored syrup, and vodka, finished it with a spritz of lemon.

He started shaking all the mixture together, shaking your thoughts away then hurriedly clearing your throat.

"Are you working here?" You asked.

He cracked a mystifying laugh at you but not answering your question.

He placed a glass on top of the counter and then poured the cocktails into it, seamlessly without spilling a drop.

For the garnish, he put raspberries in a stick into the glass then presented it to you, and slid the glass right in front of you.

The red cocktail sparkling in the dim light, you lifted it close enough to take a sniff of the sweet-smelling drink.

You glanced up at him and he bat his eyelash at you, giving you permission to drink.

You took a careful sip, it was a bit sour, a bit bitter but it was sweet in the end.

You have to admit that he has a prowess for bartending.

"This is good!" You praised him as he cleaned up the counter.

"What it's called?"

"A love potion," he playfully answered.

You blinked a few times, thinking you misheard him.

He laughed, "it's just a raspberry martini!"

He picked up a cherry from a bowl, stuck his tongue just enough to put it on it, bite the stem between his teeth then pulled it out.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

Once again, you got caught ogling over him doing such a mundane thing as eating a cherry.

"I like it," you said, whether he asked about the drink or the scene that just happened in front of you.

He poured himself a drink, a whiskey and you could feel the alcohol burnt your tongue as he filled the glass half full, then added an ice cube.

He went to sit next to you, took a sip of his drink once he was seated then placed the glass on the counter, the ice made a clinking sound inside the glass as he moves.

You clank your drinks together then took sips of your drinks at the same time and it was getting sweeter the more you drink your cocktail.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get there?" He asked, licking his lower lip that made it even more luscious, inviting you to get a taste.

"I don't know. Desperation, I guess," you answered with low giggles. It baffled you that you got to act like that around a stranger you met barely an hour ago.

"Why would a beautiful girl like you be that desperate?" He asked with eyes that secretly assessed you like you were a Rubik's cube that needs to be solved.

"I'm dying," you shortly replied as you stared deep into your drink.

"Figuratively?" He asked.

You laughed but skipped on answering.

"You must think I'm dramatic," you said, you weren't even going to try to shoot your shot. You have no chance with him, there's no use in trying.

"No," he strongly denied yet his voice remained low and calm.

"There's nothing dramatic in letting yourself deep in your feelings," he added.

You looked at him or braved yourself to do so, for a few seconds before looking away.

"I just want it to end," you said.

It surprised you that the words fell out of your mouth like that, you blamed it on the drink but you saw that he only put a shot of vodka in it. There was no way you let loose like this without being drunk first.

"I just want to end my life my way," you said to him, correcting your first statement.

"I'm conflicted because if I do it, my parents will get sad," you explained, "but I don't want to wait for my life to end either. I want to end it my way, at a time that I decided for myself," you said with sadness in your eyes.

"It's my life after all. I get to decide how and when to end my life, right?"

He hummed, trying to catch on to what you were trying to say and gently nodding.

He propped a hand under his chin with his index finger touching his lower lip, looking into your eyes as if he was searching for something in them.

He slightly parted his mouth open and licked his lower lip, making it wetter and redder than before.

"How about you sell your soul to me?"

You burst out laughing, he said it as if he really is a devil with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah, sure!" You played along with him, stirring your cocktail with the stick.

"And in return, you get to have your desired death," he offered a deal.

You ate the raspberries and chewed on them, "that's actually... a nice deal," you said to him.

"I know, right?" He exclaimed, then took a small sip of his drink, "but you have to give me three reasons why I should approve the deal."

"You want me to appeal?"

He nodded.

"Well, first, I don't want to make my parents sad. If I end myself, I can imagine how devastated they would be and I believe they'd blame themselves for it. I don't want that," you explained.

"Second, my life..." you heavily sighed as it summed up how fed up you were with your life, "I feel like there's nothing I can do with my life anymore, it is stagnant like that, it can't go further than this,"

"Or maybe, you haven't looked thoroughly enough," he commented.

"I don't intend to find out anyway," you meekly said, you hurriedly drank your cocktail and let the alcohol burn down the cries trying to escape your throat.

He stayed quiet but intently listened to you, tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger.

"And the third?"

"I told you," you beamed with a foolish smile, this time you were convinced you got a bit drunk.

"You're dying?"

You nodded then finished your drink with one long gulp.

"Figuratively?" He asked for confirmation.

You shook your head, "sadly, no," you said.

You folded your hands on the counter and rested your chin on it, "that's why I don't want to wait for my end to come," you said to him.

He sighed then tilted his head upward, looking up at the ceiling, "And they say life is beautiful?" He sneered at the vast emptiness of the bar.

You let a scornful laugh with eyes drooping lower with each passing second.

"Are those enough to appeal to you?" You asked.

He finished his drink and gasped once he gulped down all of his drink, "I'll think about it," he said.

You snickered, amused that he treated this as if it was real and that he seriously considering it.

"Yeah, take your time," you joked to him with a sleepy smile, and after that nothing.

A day in your life always went like this.

You woke up at 5:30 am, did your laundry then cook breakfast, showered then dressed up for work.

You went out and listened to your neighbor arguing about the trash bags again for the umpteenth time as you passed their door. You bought a cup of coffee and got on a bus to work, on a good day, someone would offer you to sit on their seat but that rarely happens.

You worked as a columnist for a newspaper but mostly, to write a review of children's books and or an event of people who paid the newspaper to write about it, who wanted it to be publicly known.

Your boss never took you seriously, that's why he only gave you jobs that other people won't take and also because you would accept everything he gave you.

"Let me guess, a reunion?" Kim asked, a co-worker who sits next to your desk.

"Close. It's an anniversary of a nursing home," you answered, "one of our executives is one of their biggest donators.”

"Well, of course! You'd better make his name big and bold in the article," she sneered.

"Noted!" You beamed in response.

The little delight in an office like this is to talk about lame things that would make you feel better about your life at least for a few seconds before you descend into the pit again.

You swiveled your chair in her direction, "did you perhaps see me leaving the Halloween party?"

She pursed her lips while tugging a pen between her teeth, "I think the last time I saw you was when you said you needed to get some fresh air," she answered.

You recalled everything you did that night, including the part where you went to the rooftop and almost plunge to your death but that didn't happen. You remembered someone stopped you, took you inside to have a drink then from there, it was a big blank.

You didn't know how you get home that night and woke up in a sweat, your Halloween costume stuck to your skin and your shoes neatly placed on the threshold.

"But I can't remember that night either. Someone from the printing got me on a taxi home," she grimaced.

"Oh yeah, I got a little drunk as well," you said despite your memory of last night was still blurry to you.

"I better get started on my article," then swiveled your chair back, pushed to your desk, and started working.

On the afternoon, you went to the pantry to make your fourth cup of coffee of the day. You waited for the machine to finish while looking out the window.

"Can you make me a cup too?" Someone asked from behind you.

You turned around to find Minho. Your friend since the first year of college, the one who asked you to intern at the newspaper together and got the jobs at the same time, the sole reason why you were still here and the one you've been secretly in love with, your first love and the only person you ever fall in love with, staring at you with a smile on his face.

"A black coffee for Minho. On it!" You said to him.

He walked up to you and helped you get a clean mug from the top cabinet.

His hand brushed yours as he handed the mug to you.

You carefully poured the hot coffee into his mug and ripped a pack of brown sugar to add to it.

"Exactly how I like it!" He exclaimed to you with a satisfied smile.

You walked out of the pantry together while carrying your mugs in your hands, catching up with each other since he worked in a different department with you.

"I didn't see you much at the Halloween party," he said.

You swallowed, "I left early," you quickly answered.

"Why? I think I looked for you all night," he said.

He exaggerated it but you took it that he was being nice to you like he always does to you, "I didn't feel well," you lied, but not entirely.

"It's going to get cold, you better start wearing warm clothes," he softly spoke with a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, I will," you said.

Someone called for him from across the room and he excused himself and squeezed your shoulder before leaving you.

You followed where he was going, knowing well that what was going to happen next would agonize you.

He came to her girlfriend, stood next to her while she talked to him about something, putting all of his attention on her with a smile on his face.

"Is that for me?" She asked him, pointing to the mug of coffee in his hand.

He considered it for a second and handed it to her, "You can have it!"

And there you were, could only look at someone else having what you wanted the most, his love.

It was your fault. You want all that is not yours. You want someone who doesn't want you back. This was all your fault.

You walked back to your desk and plopped down your chair, took a haste sip of your coffee, and let it burn your tongue as a way to avert the stinging pain you felt inside with a physical one.

"I'm going home!" Your co-worker announced once the clock strike 5 o'clock.

"See you tomorrow!" She said to you then gathered all of her things from her desk.

"See you!" You said back before she exited the office.

You dragged yourself to put your things back into your bag and waited for that one saddest part of your day.

You waited and waited, then there he was, Minho glanced at you with a smile on his face, "hey, aren't you going home?"

"In a bit," you answered and forced a smile for him.

His girlfriend came to his side in a matter of seconds and held his hand, it was like she has a radar that would tell her whenever he got too close to you.

"Let's have dinner next time!" He said and he had said it more than dozens of times already but never did.

But still, the intention alone was enough for you, "Bye Minho!" You said to him.

"Bye!" He said to you then left with her girlfriend.

There was nothing that excites you anymore for the rest of the day, but to mourn your life in your tiny apartment.

You saw your mother's shoes on the threshold and knew right away that she came to your apartment unannounced like she always does.

"Mom, you came without telling me again," you told her because just like all mothers do, she likes being nosy and digging through your things.

She was squatting down in front of your fridge, then sighed, "You know what makes me really sad? When I found your fridge empty like this," she said with an edge to her voice.

"What did you expect, mom? I rarely cook," you told her.

"I'd rather have leftovers and expired food in your fridge than just these," she said as she took out all the empty water bottles.

You sighed because talking back to her would only lead to an endless argument so you refrained and tossed your bag on the empty chair.

"Come! Have dinner with me!" She ordered.

You reluctantly sat on the chair and let her serve you food, obeying her like this so she would go on her way faster and leave you alone for the rest of the night.

She asked the same questions, about life, work, friends, and everything that you have no interest in anymore, which is life in general.

"How's dad?" You finally asked, to stop her from asking more about your life.

"Enjoying his retirement like always," she answered.

Your parents were on the verge of giving up the idea of having children when they had you.

Your mom was in her late 30s when she had you, she almost died when she gave birth to you and that made you precious to them. You are their only child, the one that gave them a chance and the joy to be a parent, their only hope to continue their bloodline and carry their genes and soon to be their biggest disappointment.

She left after giving you a series of scolds, ruffling your hair like she always does since you were little and hugging you, then finally leaving you alone in your own private space.

You sat by the small balcony, hugging your knees while looking out the window, wrapping yourself in a blanket because of the cold gust of winter wind even though spring is around the corner.

You fell asleep on your bedroom floor and woke up to the excruciating migraine that always comes so suddenly, without warning.

You crawled to the bedside table and hoisted yourself to get on the bed, pulled open the drawer to take out the medicine.

You rummaged inside the drawer in the dark, shaking up the last of the pills onto your palm and shoved it down your throat, swallowed it down with a few gulps of water.

You sighed into the void of your bedroom and the walls echoed it back to you.

"You have to start your treatment immediately!" Your doctor insisted.

"Immediately!" He pressured you, completely annoyed with your nonchalant attitude about your own health.

He was the only one who cared about your well-being, even more than you do to yourself.

"I just need pills for the migraines," you told him in a calm manner.

He hissed and sighed through his gritted teeth.

"Do you have any idea how severe your condition is? You are dying! You'll die soon if you don't receive any treatment," he hopelessly reminded you of your grim future.

"I know that really well," you said to him.

Then again, your attitude only pissed him off more.

"Please, let me assist you. Let me help you, it's a shot in the dark but it's worth a try," he said to you, begging with all of his heart. He must have a lot of pity for you, an old man like him feeling sad for a young girl like you, to suffer such an illness instead of him who already bagged so many life experiences.

Aside from the fact that he's taken the Hippocratic oath, he probably thinks of you like his own daughter.

"Doctor, I don't want to receive any treatment. I just want pills for my migraines," you said again, sternly this time.

He reluctantly took his notepad and scribbled something on it, roughly ripped the paper before handing it to you.

"Please reconsider it before it's too late," he said to you.

"I will," you said despite your decision being final.

"Thank you!" You muttered to him at the end.

It started with the constant migraines and pounding headaches, then when it got too unbearable, you got it checked at the hospital.

When you think life can't be more bountiful, it came with a surprise gift: A tumor on your brain.

To put it simply, you were dying, you lived on numbered days and you have roughly 3 months or less to live according to what the doctor said.

You never had any suicidal thoughts before that, but then again, depression is one of the side effects of dying. Because a surprise gift wrapped in the prettiest bow,

You had informed the office that you'd be coming late and once you arrived, you got called to the editor's office because you didn't highlight the amount of donation the executive made to the nursing home and had to redo the whole article. You took one pill before started working, clenching your fists as you began typing on your keyboard, and just breathe.

As usual, you waited for the saddest part of your day to pass, holding his girlfriend's hand like she would fly away if he didn't, fingers intertwined, so tight.

"Hey, have a good evening!" He said to you.

At least he didn't promise the dinner again which made you quietly wish it came true one day.

"You too!" You said back to him with a thin smile.

You popped another pill even though the migraine had slowly diminished, or maybe you took it because you thought it would also lessen the intangible pain inside you.

You spent the night by the balcony again, sitting down by the sill, wrapped in a blanket looking at the half-moon shining so bright above the city.

It was at a time like this you always thought of death.

The question mainly focused on 'when'? When is the good time to die? Now? Tomorrow? Two days again? By the weekend? At the end of the month?

There was always something stopping you, either your brain offering you logical options, to call the hospital and seek treatment but most of the time, it was just the reminder that you need to take care of a few things before the one final, last breath.

It didn't make you sad at all, the more you thought about it the lighter you got like you were stripping away a layer of fear of yourself.

Accepting reality is easier than keep avoiding it.

You got up in the middle of the night feeling nauseous, immediately ran to the bathroom, then vomited into the toilet bowl. Tears, sweat, and hair stuck to your face, you flushed the toilet, collapsing on the bathroom floor after. Curled up on the tiled floor of the bathroom, suffering from the pain that you have to deal with until you eventually die.

After a moment of trying to gain your consciousness, you heard footsteps approaching your way through the vibration on the floor.

Your vision blurred with tears and you could make out the shape of a dark figure looming in the doorway of your bathroom, tall with a hint of red.

You were in no condition to either fight or fight, you barely had any strength to take a stand.

The figure approached you then you felt the warmth of his hand, cupping your cheek.

"You suffer so much," the figure said.

He ran his fingers down your face and forced you to close both of your eyes, it was a simple touch yet it worked to send you into a painless, dreamless sleep.

You made a cup of coffee the second you arrived at the office.

You could feel nauseous from last night lingering inside you and felt another cup of coffee would help. You felt a hand resting on the small of your back and quickly turned on your heel to see who it is, "oh Minho, good morning!" You said, half surprised to see him so early in the office like this.

"You came early!" He said to you.

If he paid attention to you just a little, he would know that you always come early, at the same time every morning.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly answered.

"Which is perfect!" He exclaimed, then leaned against the counter to face you, "I need your help," he said.

"What is it?"

"I have an article and I have to turn it in this afternoon. Can you help me edit it?" He asked as he ripped two packs of creamers with his teeth, then poured it into your coffee.

He stirred it with a spoon while you were holding the mug in your hand, he licked the spoon once he was done then tossed it onto the sink.

"Please?" He asked.

It became a habit of yours, to always submit to his wishes whether you intended to or not.

"Of course!" You said.

You huddled close together in front of his computer, editing the article together and mashing ideas together. He couldn't deny that the two of you made a great team, especially when it comes to writing, it has been like that since college.

"It reminds me of our college years," he said to you.

You turned your head a smiled at him, suddenly aware of the proximity that you hurriedly swiveled your chair to the other way.

"Yes," you sheepishly replied.

"Let me treat you to lunch today!" He said.

"No, it's okay, it's nothing," you kindly refused, holding up your hands at him.

He grabbed your hands and put them down on your lap, "just wait by your desk, I'll pick you up later!" he said with a smile.

Kim invited you for lunch like she always does but you refused since you waited for Minho to pick you up just as he promised.

But he didn't come, even after Kim came back from her lunch and gave you a puzzling look.

"I'm not that hungry," you lied to her and assured her that you felt like skipping lunch.

You got ready for leaving the office, shoving everything into your bag, and didn't even wait for the saddest part of your day to pass like you usually do.

You went home and slept the day away, when you woke up in the dark of your home, you found someone sitting on the balcony that you used to sit on.

You scrambled to turn on the light and found him.

The guy with the hellfire hair and luscious lips, eating an apple.

"I hope you don't mind me taking an apple from your fridge," he said to you.

You roughly pinched the bridge of your nose then rubbed the corner of your eyes, "How do you get in here?" You asked.

"Through the window," he answered.

"But uh... I-" your head was still drowsy.

"I don't think I have apples in the house," you tried again.

He softly sighed, "You should check your fridge because you have a whole box of it," he said.

He got off the balcony and entered your room, standing at the end of your bed looking at you, "I wanted to talk to you yesterday but you didn't look good," he said.

"Talk about what?" You scooted to the edge of the bed, then stopped, your head was spinning and your hands were shaking.

"You shouldn't have skipped lunch and dinner altogether," he said to you.

You limped to exit your bedroom and trudged your way to the kitchen, opened the fridge with all of your strength, finding a whole box of apples inside just like he said.

"Mom..." You sighed with your head still stuck inside the fridge.

He fitted himself in the small space and took two apples, "here, you have one and I have another," he said, handing one to you.

He didn't hesitate to take a bite of the apple and it made a delicious crunching sound that strangely evoke your appetite.

You caved in and took a bite, the sweet juice started to fill your mouth, satisfying your hunger and thirst at once.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, across from you, and looked at you as you stood there chewing on your apple.

"I've been thinking about it," he said.

"What?"

"About the deal."

"What deal?"

"That you want to sell your soul to me and in return I give you your desired death," he replied.

And it all came back rushing through your head like a bursting dam. He was the guy from that night, the one who helped you get off the ledge, who made you that sweet cocktail, and probably the one who took you home, that's why he knew your address.

You gasped and almost threw the apple away, "you're the guy from that night," you exclaimed at him.

"Glad you remember!" He said to you with an unimpressed look.

"The devil," you recalled.

"In the flesh," he finished your sentence.

"Except that you aren't real," you said.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he decided to move on "anyway, I brought the contract," he said, pulling out something from behind him, a piece of paper, worn and torn at the seam.

"I wrote down everything in the contract and you can read all of it," he paused to walk up to you then stopped just a step away from you, handing the paper to you.

"Just take your time, no need to rush to sign it and I'll be back before midnight," he said.

You took the paper from him and it smelled exactly like you imagined, a page of an old book.

"B–but how?" You asked in pure confusion.

You exhaled a long breath to calm your erratic breathing, "how do I know that this is all real?"

He soft chuckled while rubbing his chin with his knuckle, "just learn the contract paper," he said then took another bite of his apple before throwing the core into the trash bin.

He walked back to your bedroom and you were late to follow him, you caught the last of him getting out of your window to the balcony. But once you looked outside, there was no sight of him or the red of his hair anywhere.

It was like he just vanished into the night.

What kind of dream did you have last night?

But the details of your dream were too real to be considered just a dream, the apples were indeed there in the fridge, and the contract paper was on the dining table.

You were reading it when Kim all of sudden asked about it.

"Nothing, it's just a flyer," you waved her off and shoved the paper back into your bag.

The dullness of work suffocated you once again and to top that, Minho's girlfriend celebrated her birthday in the office and invited everyone to have something from the table full of a variety of food she ordered.

If Kim wasn't forcing you to have a slice of cake, you wouldn't have been here and eating the cake in silence, forcing it down your throat with your eyes uneasily looking at her, and then at Minho who stood so close like they were joined at the hip.

She sauntered in your direction and you quickly stuffed your mouth with the cake to avoid answering whatever she was going to ask.

"Seems like you really enjoyed the cake," Minho's girlfriend said.

You nodded with a mouth full of food, "yes, it's delicious," you shortly replied.

She smiled then brushed her hair to the back, intentionally showing something flashy on her hand, a diamond ring.

You knew she was baiting you to ask her the question but you didn't want to give her the satisfaction. You and Kim exchanged a glance, you guessed she noticed it too then looked in two different directions, to anywhere but her hand.

"Minho gave me the best birthday present," she blurted out when none of you asked about it.

You nodded but not saying anything.

"I didn't mean for anyone to know but I think good news should be shared, right?"

You stuffed more cake into your mouth and repeatedly noted, you really didn't want to know anything about that ring.

"We got engaged last night!" She announced, pitching her voice a bit louder for everyone around her to hear.

And suddenly, you had a hard time swallowing your food and it just stuck there in your esophagus.

People started making a ruckus then followed by congratulations from here and there.

You weren't sad or mad at all, you were just a little shaken inside. You forced yourself to swallow it all down inside you, whether it was the food or the bitter, harsh truth that you had to stop this masochistic infatuation.

Everyone's first love is meant to fail anyway.

Minho came to her side a moment later, looking unamused that the news was out. It baffled you how his eyes searched for yours first and not his girlfriend. You looked at each other but nothing came out from both of you.

Minho must be terribly stupid if he didn't know that you have feelings for him. It had been years and all these things you did out of devotion for him were too obvious to be missed.

You believed he knew but he decided to stay oblivious about it.

You got a little disappointed, at him and yourself, disappointed at him for leaving you hanging like this, and at yourself, for not having the courage just to say those three words to him.

"Congratulations!" You said to him, smiling even though you were close to tears.

"Thank you!" He meekly said.

You hated your heart so much for wanting what is not yours, for wanting what is not right, for wanting someone who doesn't want you back, for wanting him.

Your nausea returns when you were in the elevator heading down to the lobby. You felt the queasiness bubbling inside, you quickly covered your mouth and breathed through your nose, calming yourself with eyes uneasily looking at the floor number going down with each level.

You broke into a run when the elevator doors slid open, flung to the nearest bathroom, and pushed any door of the stall to find the one that was available.

You vomited everything out into the toilet bowl which got you retching and gasping for air at once.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kim asked.

You didn't know she was following you until she stood by the door clutching your bag in her hands.

"You dropped your bag," she said, one hand keeping the door of your stall open.

You took a tissue and roughly wiped your mouth with it, "Can you please get me my pills from inside my bag?" You begged.

"Sure, sure!" She fumbled to unzip your bag and shoved her hand inside to take out your medicine.

"Give me two," you said to her, holding out your palm at her.

She complied, shook the container until two pills rolled out then handed them to you.

You dry swallowed them and closed your eyes with your back resting against the partition.

"I have water," she offered, pulling out bottled water from her bag.

She uncapped the bottle before giving it to you.

"Thanks!" You muttered.

"Are you sick?" She asked.

You let out a long shaky breath, "I have this..." you paused to take another sip of water, "acute migraine," you lied.

She checked your body temperature but you seemed fine to her except for how you looked, "you look so pale," she sadly said.

"I just took my meds. I'll be okay," you assured her.

She helped you get up from the floor, smoothing down your skirt and fixing your coat, "you should get a taxi home!"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," you told her since there was no use in refusing her kind suggestion.

You sat on the couch waiting for the red-haired whatever man to really come just as he promised last night.

You sat cross-legged and read the contract paper over and over again, still wondering why you played along with him.

"I believe you have read the contract one too many times," he said, appearing out of nowhere behind you.

He walked so gracefully like a model down a fashion runway, poised and cool, his all-black attire supported the whole model's off-duty look.

"How do I know that you're the real devil?" You asked him, never the type to dillydally, especially when it comes to making a deal that involves your life.

"Isn't it obvious enough?" He asked with arms outstretched.

"Or are you hoping that I have horns and red-skinned, scary eyes and claws? Like that?"

You shrugged, "sort of."

He laughed, "my job is to tempt you human and you expect me to do that while looking like a scary creature out of a fantasy book?"

You pursed your lips and shrugged again, "well, that makes sense now," you said, settling the issue with an agreement.

You unfolded the contract paper and pointed to one of the points, "it said that you'll be with me every day. What's that mean?"

"What it literally means. I'll be with you every day, not for the whole 24 hours, of course. I have stuff to do," he said.

"What? Bartending?"

He scoffed.

"That's just ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere," you protested.

"I'm protecting my asset here because what if you had a change of heart?" He sat on the single sofa across from you, crossing his legs and propping a hand under his chin.

"I promise you, I will not," you assured him.

He softly rubbed his lips with his index finger, "are you sure it's not because your unrequited love just got engaged?"

That caught you off guard, "how do you know?"

"I told you, I keep an eye on my asset," he said, now spreading his legs open and propping his elbows on his knees.

You got quiet because you didn’t expect him to know this much about your life.

"So, it's not because of him?"

"No," you strongly denied.

"Let's not take a haste decision," he suggested.

You shook your head, "I think we should sign the contract!” You persisted, took a pen and placed your sign on the bottom corner of the paper.

He laughed when you slid the paper and pen at him, then said, "your turn!"

He burst out laughing, "and you think when you made a pact with the devil signing a paper would do it?"

You glared at him and hissed in irritation, "why didn't you-"

He took the paper and burned it on his palm, turning the paper into ash and smoke.

Your eyes widened in slight shock, it was like a magic trick, except that he wasn't using any trick and no equipment.

"Impressed?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

You cleared your throat and acted coy about it, "no, but you’ll make a great birthday magician," you told him despite what he just pulled off scared you a little but you tried not to get intimidated by him and repressed it by acting nonchalantly.

He stared deep into your eyes as if he tried to look into your head and see what you were thinking. He didn't look away as he pulled out something from the inner pocket of his black suit jacket.

A locket with a thin gold chain and the pendant isn't bigger than your thumb. He hung it around his hand and showed it to you.

He put it inside his palm after you stared at it long enough.

"Before we make a pact, you haven't decided on your death yet," he reminded you.

"Huh?"

"I promise you your desired death, but the how and when, you haven't told me yet," he clicked his tongue repeatedly, "you have to be specific when making a pact with the devil," he said while squinting his eyes at you.

"Oh?" You exclaimed. He was right, you were rushing everything and you weren't aware of who you are dealing with.

"I want to die peacefully," you said.

"Like drowning?"

"How is that peaceful?" You asked in disbelief.

"Well, it's in the water and it's quiet. Peaceful!"

You winced, "I want to go..." you raked your brain for the right word to say, "quietly."

He scrunched his nose, thinking of an idea.

"I want to die in my sleep," you offered yours before he gave you other strange ways to die.

"Okay, I can do that," he said.

"Next question: when?" He asked, leaning forward at you in curiosity.

"Soon," you shortly replied.

"How soon?"

"Soon enough."

"Tomorrow?"

"Too soon," you snarked.

"A week from now?"

"No."

"One month from now?"

"Too long," you said.

He rolled his eyes in a rather dramatic way and came up with a suggestion real quick, "13 days, that's my final offer!"

You thought it over, two weeks. Would you be able to get your affairs in order in two weeks? It was kind of ideal, it wasn't soon nor late, it was right.

"Deal!"

He got up from the sofa and you unconsciously followed him, getting up from the couch as well. You both took a step closer and stood facing each other in the small living room of your apartment.

"Give me your hand!" He ordered.

You complied and held out your hand at him.

He took a breath to finally grab your hand, wrapping his hand around you and you did the same.

"Are you sure you want to sell your soul to me?" He asked, sounding all business and serious.

You swallowed air then cleared your throat before answering, "yes."

"And in return, you want a peaceful death?"

"Yes."

"13 days from now?"

"Yes," you undoubtedly replied.

A fire alight, setting both your clasped hands in a blazing fire but surprisingly, you didn't feel hot or in pain, it was warm, like your hand wrapped in mittens.

"Oh fuck!" You cursed under your breath, it shocked you but weirdly, you didn't try to take your hand away from him. Your eyes flicked to his face, his eyes turned into shades lighter than the usual dark eyes, gleaming like the eyes of a tiger in the dark.

"In a matter of 13 days, your soul will be mine," he said with eyes that looked right into you, so deep like he talked right into your soul that soon will be his.

You couldn't lie but felt a little frightened inside, you could feel beads of cold sweat form on your back and probably seep into your shirt.

"Congratulations, your life is officially cursed and you'll burn in hell forever!" He said with a smile that was the opposite of what he said to you. Then the fire went off, he let go of his hand to take out the locket again and opened it to reveal what looked like a clock but strangely, there was no number on it, just the needles.

"Places your thumb on it!" He ordered.

"Where?"

He gently led your thumb to the little needle in the center of the locket and pressed your thumb on it.

You yelped when your fingerpad made a contact with it, you pulled your hand away out of reflex to see that you had pricked your finger on the needle of the small clock inside the locket.

The drop of blood started filling the locket, crimson-colored liquid spread inside like a blooming flower then magically, the clock started ticking. The clock ran backward and that was when you realized that it was counting down the time to your death.

"13 days!" He said to you, opening your hand to place the locket on your palm.

You stared at the clock that counted down the time that led to your death.

Tick, tick, tick.

You had been wasting a full 60 seconds just staring at it in a mix of wonder and fear, you have a lot to say yet you were so speechless. You quickly shut the locket and put the chain around your neck, then you felt it, the weight of the pact you just made with the devil.

He helped you by fixing the hair caught in your necklace, "I brought just the right drink for the occasion!" He announced.

He poured wine into your mug in such elegance and didn't spill a drop by quickly spinning the bottle, then wiped it with a napkin.

You clank your mugs together since you don't have any wine glasses in the apartment.

"To cursed life!" He said as you both made a toast.

"To cursed life!" You repeated his words in a low, hesitated voice.

He sipped his wine and made it look like he sipped ambrosia in a goblet instead of wine in a mug.

"Having a second thought?" He asked, catching you holding the locket resting on your chest.

You quickly shook your head, "no."

"What are you going to do on your last few days in the mortal world?" He asked, tracing the rim of his mug with his index finger.

"Get my affairs in order," you replied, clasping your hands around your mug like you were seeking warmth from it.

"You need help?" He asked.

You awkwardly laughed, "what can you do?"

"I can do a little mischief here and there," he said, his finger flying to his lips, playing with the plump of his lower lip.

"That would be against my plan of 'going quietly'," you reminded him.

"What's with 'going quietly'? Why not 'go with a bang'?" He suggested, making a gesture of explosion above his head.

"I just..." you paused because you didn't know the answer. Why you should go quietly?

"I think it's easier that way," you replied with an answer that you weren't confident in.

He nodded and didn't ask further about it. He took another sip and let the silence hang in the air between you and him.

You looked at him, in his usual attire of black outfit and red hair slicked back, pale skin with eyes back to their intense black color.

And you wondered how he ended up here?

"What should I call you?" You suddenly asked him.

"You can call me baby, darling, love," he listed all the pet names he liked to be called with.

"I don't like to be called cutie, but for you, I'll allow it," he finished with a wide smile that made him look more human than he was supposed to be.

You rolled your eyes at him and inaudibly sighed.

"Hyunjin," he quickly said.

"You can call me Hyunjin," he said again while taking another sip of his wine.

You nodded, and that was enough information for the day. That he really is the devil, named Hyunjin and you just made a pact with him. Your eyes shot at the locket and at the reminder of it, you heard the sounds of the seconds being deducted from your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

D-13.

"That's a nice necklace!" Kim beamed the moment she noticed the necklace dangling around your neck.

"Oh, this?" You asked her.

"Is it vintage?"

"Uh..." you stalled to find an answer, "yes, I bought it online," you lied.

"That's so nice!" She praised.

"Text me the online shop cause I want one,"

You stifled a nod, "yes, I will," you lied again.

At this point, you didn't care about all the lies you tell people, you are going to burn in hell for eternity anyway.

You were coming back from lunch with Kim when you met Minho in the lobby, he looked like he was waiting for you from the way he got up from his seat the moment he saw you coming through the entrance.

"Hey, want to have coffee together?" He asked you.

Kim realized that he didn't ask for her to be present there and excused herself to go back to the office.

"Okay," you replied.

You had been sitting facing each other and the cups of iced coffee dripping wet from the condensation, you waited for him to say something with your hands clasped under the table.

"What is it, Minho?" You asked him because he kept quiet the whole time you sat there.

"You have something to say to me?"

It seemed like he was unable to decide what he wants to talk about first, you guessed he wanted to talk about yesterday.

"I wasn't planning on proposing to her," he blurted out.

You looked at him rather wide-eyed, didn't expect him to say it like that.

"I was planning on gift her a ring. Not proposing to her," he explained.

"But her parents were present and she got ecstatic the moment she saw it," he paused to catch a breath, "I couldn't just say that I didn't mean to propose to her, she looked so happy. I-"

"Minho, I'm not asking," you reminded him.

His face gradually turned sour, "I just thought that maybe I need to explain-"

"Whatever you do or did or done with your girlfriend is none of my business," you quickly told him, settling the matter before he pried more than you allowed him to.

Your words seemed to surprise him and he was quiet for a while, "I don't want things to change between us," he said.

You badly wanted to ask him what exactly you two have. What you are to him? And what he takes you for?

"What are you talking about? We'll always be good friends," you remarked with a sweet smile.

A smile bloomed on his face, "yeah, of course, we'll always be good friends, right?"

You nodded even though he clearly drew the invisible line that you shouldn't cross.

He took a long sip of his coffee and gasped in satisfaction, "I'm writing a special article," he said.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, "yes, it's for the spring special-themed article," he replied.

You stirred your iced coffee with the straw, making the ice cubes clink against the glass.

"That's great, Minho!" You complimented him without looking at him.

"Can you help me with it?" He asked.

"I like it when we work together," he added.

You stirred and stirred, watched as the coffee made a swirl inside your glass.

"Please?"

You stopped stirring when the coffee was about to slosh out of the glass, "sure, I'd love to," you said.

There you go, making the same mistake over and over again, despite knowing that you would only get pain in return.

You were brushing your teeth when you saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You got startled that you spat onto the sink, "coming back from whispering evil deeds into people?" You sneered at him then washed your mouth with running water.

He folded his hands and leaned against the door of your bathroom, "yes, and I should've told you to throw your iced coffee at him," he sneered back.

You got quiet, he wasn't only spying on your life but also knew what happened between you and the people around you.

You got on your bed and covered your body up to your chest with the duvet.

"That's it for the day?" He asked you.

"I'm going quietly," you reminded him with your back facing him.

He softly chuckled, "Goodnight!"

You didn't reply but the lingering silence got you curious if he was still there watching you sleep. You turned on your bed but he was already gone.

D-12

You haven't gotten to your desk yet when you got called to the editor's office, papers flying in your direction the moment you got in.

"You called this a piece of writing?" He asked you, the veins on his neck popped and strained in rage.

You opened your mouth to speak but he cut off you again with his shout, "do it all over again!"

You picked up the paper from the floor and took it with you back to the desk, you saw that this wasn't even your writing, it was someone else's but he had done it a handful of times, which means he wanted you to fix the writing and rewrite it again.

"Why does he always blame you for the mistakes others did?" Kim nagged with her head snapped at the editor's office.

You shrugged.

"Why didn't you say something?" She said with exasperation.

"You know it's useless," you responded while stacking the paper by its order.

She heavily sighed but didn't say anything back because she also knew that the editor is a really stubborn piece of work.

You spaced out while clutching your locket on your chest, feeling the ticking with every breath you took.

You could feel every second without needing to open the locket.

Tick, tick, tick.

"I knew that you'll be here," Minho said as he found you waiting for the coffee machine done making the coffee.

You turned on your heels, "yes, hi," you nervously answered.

"Have you got your coffee yet? I want to show you something," he said.

You nodded and collected your mug filled with freshly made coffee, "yes."

He took you to his desk and showed you the article he was writing for the spring-themed article, you scanned the words but the lines kept slipping off your mind, unable to focus.

"Yes, it's good," you said to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Uhm..." you hummed in confusion, your hand flew to your temple but nothing came to mind.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to focus," you gave up trying and apologized.

He smiled at you, "it's okay, we can work on it some other time," he assured you.

You smiled back at him and took your mug with you, "sorry," you muttered.

"Let's have lunch together!" He suggested again, stopping you on your track.

"I can't. I have a doctor's appointment," you told him and it felt good on rejecting him without having to lie.

"Oh? Okay," he replied.

You didn't have a doctor's appointment but the doctor kept on calling you to come to the hospital, probably his last endeavor to convince you to get treatment.

And you were right, "I have thought it over like you asked and my decision is final, I will not get treatments," you sternly told him.

He sighed in defeat, pulled his drawer open, and placed a brochure right in front of you.

"Will you at least consider coming to this?" He asked.

You could tell that the brochure was a support group for cancer patients and survivors. It was a hard pass but to put an ease on the doctor's mind, you smiled and said, "maybe I will," you answered.

You were reading a children's book for you to review when he came, reading the title of the book out loud, "Chase the end of the rainbow," he recited, then chuckled.

"There is literally nothing at the end of the rainbow," he sneered then plopped down on the single sofa.

"It's just rain and puddles," he added then put his long legs on the coffee table.

You lowered the book enough to look at him, "did you make anyone cry today?" You playfully asked.

"I broke the ice cream machine again," he bragged, "I think yes, a few people cried."

"How fun!" You exclaimed with fake enthusiasm then flipped the page of the book.

He watched you reading the book, then got curious about it, he sat next to you and leaned so close to you so he could read it too.

You could smell the faint of his natural scent, of something strong, a bit musk and smokey. You turned your head just enough to see him, the side profile of his perfectly sculpted face and its facial features that complement each other.

He is so beautiful, it didn't make sense to you.

You shut the book and gave it to him, "you can read it," you said to him then went to your bedroom.

"Goodnight!" He shouted to you before you shut your bedroom door.

D-11

"Hey, you haven't sent me the name of the shop for that beautiful necklace," Kim said as she placed a cup of iced coffee on your desk.

You faked an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, I forgot," you muttered.

"Thanks for the coffee!" You added and took a sip.

Kim leaned at your computer screen to read the article you were writing and read it loud enough for both of you, she sighed when she came to the end of the paragraph.

"Sometimes I wonder why you're stuck here with me," she mumbled with a hand on her waist.

"You're literally wasting your talent here," she said with a hand on your shoulder.

You could only smile at her but you were sure that a new job wouldn't make a difference anyway. The tumor would still be there in your brain and you still be as miserable as you were here so what's the point?

You were waiting for the elevator to arrive when Minho took your hand and grinned when you looked at him.

"Have lunch with me!" He said while shaking your hand.

You turned your head at Kim, "I'm going with Kim," you said.

Minho looked at her, "mind if I borrow her for today?" He sweetly asked.

Kim uneasily glanced at you and caught the signals you threw at her with your eyes, but she said the opposite thing, "sure."

Minho always looked more relaxed when her girlfriend isn't around, she was having a meeting outside of the office and that was also why he bravely took you out for a lunch.

"You don't like it?" He asked.

"I'm not that hungry," you replied. You've been eating your food little by little. It comes as no surprise that losing your appetite is also a side effect of dying.

He looked at you with his head slightly tipped to the side, "you look a little pale," he said.

You took a sip of water, "I've been having trouble sleeping," you said but didn't tell him it was because of the migraine that kept you awake.

He reached for your face and pressed the back of his hand, checking your temperature, "you're a bit warm," he said.

You put his hand away from your face and gently put it down on the table, "I'm okay. I'm alright," you assured him.

He doubted you but nodded, continued eating his food, and shifted the conversation elsewhere.

"Remember the second year of college? That time we got on the back of the pick-up truck with the stage props, it was raining and we were both sick with flu the next day," he was talking with a smile on his face like the memory was so vivid to him.

Yes, those days were the happiest because it was so much simpler back then. It was just you and him stressing over college and nothing else. There was little responsibility, no articles to write, there was no girlfriend who keeps him on a leash and you didn't know that there was a tumor growing in your brain.

"You were sick but you insisted on taking care of me," he suddenly got all serious.

You gripped the fork in your hand tighter because why did he take you on an unwanted trip down memory lane? Shouldn't he know that those memories would only be nothing more than just memories? Soon he'd be forgetting all about it as he makes new ones with his dear fiancé.

"I'm finished," you said, putting down your cutlery and sliding the plate aside.

"I'll take care of the bill!" You announced because you needed to be as far away as possible from him.

He grabbed you by the elbow, "I'll do it!"

"No, you finish your meal! I have to go to the restroom anyway," you said with a thin smile and put his hand away.

On the way back to the office, Minho talked about the article he was writing but your mind was elsewhere, drifting here and there.

"So, what do you think?" Minho asked.

"Mmh?"

He cracked a laugh, "you weren't listening," he meekly said.

You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, "I'm sorry."

"Have a lot in your head?"

Aside from the tumor? You asked in your head.

"Not really," you answered.

He pushed the door open and held it open for you.

"Shouldn't you have a lot in your head?" You asked back.

He scanned his ID card before entering the building, "what do you mean?"

"You know with the engagement and everything," you casually said.

You didn't mean to but he was the one who started talking about those days when in reality, those days are over and he should be worrying about the accidental engagement.

Minho got quiet but strangely, you didn't feel bad at all. The sound of the elevator dinging open saved Minho from the question and you both got into the elevator.

Right before the doors slid shut, you caught a red-haired man smiling at you from afar, so sinister like a Chesire cat.

Out of reflex, you clutched the locket on your necklace and felt the needles counting down the seconds of your life.

Tick, tick, tick.

"You have 11... uh no wait, 10 days more to live and your plan is to finish your favorite TV series," Hyunjin said as he plopped down on the sofa next to you and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"Did you happen to whisper any evil things into my ear?"

His eyebrows knitted together, "where?"

"At the office."

"When?"

"A little after lunch."

He shook his head, "not sure," he vaguely answered and filled his mouth full of popcorn.

You looked at him and observed him, trying to figure him out.

He grabbed your chin, then turned your head to face the TV.

"If you're the devil that means you've been to hell?" You asked out of the blue.

"You make it sound like going to hell is a hospital visit," he said and slumped on the sofa.

"So?"

"I came from hell."

"You were born there?"

He shrugged and took another handful of popcorn.

"Is it really that hot?" You asked out of pure curiosity and did everyone a favor for asking it.

"You'll find out soon," he shortly replied.

You pouted but despite the disappointing answers, your curiosity remained the same.

"Do you mingle with humans?"

He leered at you, "mingle?"

"You know, have a relationship with human..." your words trailed off, again, this was out of pure curiosity.

"Like us?" he pointed to both you and him.

You snorted, "what we have is a business deal."

"Like you and Minho then?" He teased.

You grimaced, "pfft... I hope not."

He chuckled and tugged a popcorn between his teeth, "why are you so curious?"

You put the bowl of popcorn onto his lap so hard sending some of it falling onto the floor, "You know everything about my life but I don't know anything about you and I'm going to die in 10 days, so please, entertain this dying lady," you complained.

He gently placed a hand on your elbow and it felt hot but bearable, "no need to be that hopeless," he playfully said.

You glared at him.

"The answer is yes," he finally admitted.

That intrigued you, so he did mingle with humans and your focus next was to figure out what kind of relationship he's into.

"How?"

You nodded.

"I don't think there are that many differences in how I have sex with how humans have sex," he casually said.

"Oh?" His answer took you aback.

"Oh!" You said again when it finally registered to you. So, it was all just physical to him. You didn't know why you expect more in the first place?

"What? You think I want to be romantically involved with the mortals?" He asked with a condescending smirk.

The way he said 'mortals' made it sound like humans are pathetic creatures just like how humans think of worms.

"Who knows?" You said with a shrug but deep down, you wished that he got karma for saying that.

He sighed and took the remote, replaying the episode from the beginning.

"Hey, I was watching that!" You said and tried to snatch the remote back from him.

"Be honest, you didn't watch any of it because you kept asking me questions," he said and hid the remote behind his back.

"How mature of you!" You sneered.

He stuck his tongue out at you in response.

You shook your head in disbelief that this entity sitting next to you is the devil and he came from hell.

D-10

You've been busy trying to finish an article since this afternoon and it seemed like you have to work overtime.

As soon as you finished and submitted it, your editor gave you another one to rewrite.

When you came back to your desk, Minho was there sitting on your desk and playing with your stress ball.

"Why are you here?" You asked and you didn't mean to be brash. It was just that everyone in the office already left and you were stuck there to pick up after someone's mess

If Minho wanted to remember the good old days with you, he should know that this wasn't the right time for it.

"I saw that your bag and coat are still here," he answered and got off your desk.

"I'm busy. I have to finish another article today," you simply said and hoping that he'd just leave you alone.

"Do you need help?"

"I'll handle it myself," you refused with a thin smile.

"Sure. I'm sure you can handle it well," he said but he seemed rather disappointed by the answer.

He smacked his lips together then he put a small paper bag on your desk, "this is for you!"

He slid the paper bag until it was right in front of you, "you said you have trouble sleeping so I bought you some chamomile tea and I think there are other kinds of tea too inside—"

He always does this, putting you on a pedestal, raising your hope and when you thought you stacked your hope high enough to reach him, he knocked it all down.

Over and over and over again and the end is always the same, he left you alone to pick up the pieces.

"You don't like it?" He asked since you got really quiet.

"I like it, thanks. But just stop," you replied and pushed the paper bag back to him.

"I bought it for you," he said and pushed it back to you.

You looked at him right in the eyes, "no. I want you to stop doing anything nice!" You enunciated every word so he heard you loud and clear.

He looked rather confused by what you said and cracked a laugh, "Why?"

"I just need you to stop being nice to me unless you're going to be with me," you dared to hold eye contact with him.

He cracked another laugh, probably thinking you were playing with him.

"You think I'm being funny?"

His laugh died down and his face turned serious.

"See? You can't keep being nice to me and I can't keep pretending that this is something that it's not!" You told him.

Since half of it already spilled out of your mouth, the rest would have to come out as well.

"We've been friends for years. You know me, you know who I am," your voice quivering because it hurts letting these words out of your chest, "you either want to be with me or not."

Minho opened his mouth to speak but close it again, when he managed to say something, he was stammering, "we're friends and I don't want to make it complicated—"

How dare he said all that when he's the one who had been playing with your feelings and made things complicated!

"Bullshit!" You cut him off midsentence, "it's just bullshit!"

It seemed like you just spat acid at him that he stood there with his feet nailed to the floor.

"Where is this coming from?" He probably couldn't believe that his friend who's always said yes to everything he said holding this much anger inside of her.

"From the place I've been hiding from you for about three years," it was painful to admit how miserable you were pining for him for the last three years.

"Three years because I haven't wanted to seem demanding and I haven't wanted to seem needy or pathetic or… whatever!"

The tears rolled down your cheeks and you wiped them with your knuckle, "so, I haven't asked you."

You stared into his eyes again, wide and surprised at your confession.

"But I..." the tears caught in your throat the more you tried to fight them, "I have to. I mean..."

Despite having an inkling of what his answer would be, you gave him another chance by asking him the only question he needed to answer once and for all.

"Do you want to be with me?"

From the silence that Minho let it went on too long, you knew what the answer is. It was exactly like you had predicted and he didn't need to say it out loud, you knew.

Tears streamed down your face and you looked down at your lap, hiding your sadness from him.

You quickly recovered, wiping your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, and looked at him again.

At that moment, you decided that it was time to put an end to this.

"I can't do this anymore, Minho."

You left him and went someplace to cry by yourself, consoled yourself with the fact that you can start letting him go. Years of loving him only brought you tears and pain.

Minho left the paper bag on your desk and you shoved it inside your drawer and started working on the second article before it got really late.

"Before you go home, can you do another one?" Your editor asked as you've just submitted the article.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir!"

His forehead creased, unamused by your answer, "what are you talking about?"

As you worked by yourself at your desk while crying from breaking up with someone who's not even your boyfriend, Kim's words replayed in the back of your head. She spoke the truth that day, that you've been wasting your talent here and no one even had an ounce of respect for you in there.

And you came to a decision to, "I quit," you said and handed him the freshly printed resignation letter.

"Thank you for these past..." you paused to think of a word to describe your experience of working in this office and none came to mind except negative words.

"...wonderful years, sir!" You decided to end it with a nice note because you weren't the same with them but you didn't wait for his approval.

You let out a big sigh when you got out of his office, packed your things, and left.

You used to think that losing a job is a frightening thing but after you did it, it wasn't that bad at all. The world is still spinning and the sky isn't falling down on you. If anything, you have fewer things to worry about.

You sat on the balcony with a blanket wrapped around you, looking out at the view and the night sky.

Funny that you missed having Hyunjin around when all he does is annoy you.

This empty space only made you think of what happened that day, with you and Minho, and how things ended.

Maybe you were selfish for wanting him but he has no right to toy with your feelings, maybe you did ruin years of friendship but it felt so right.

Yet you were crying as you curled up on the bed and the tears seeped into your pillow.

A part of you was glad that Hyunjin wasn't there. You could imagine him making fun of you for looking so miserable on your last days on earth.

D-9

You forgot that you're unemployed, you woke up, showered, and cooked breakfast then when it hits you that you didn't have to go to work, you have no idea what to do next.

You might be dying but how could you forget being a normal person?

You ended up watching TV and ate the endless supply of tangerines your mom secretly put in your fridge. You napped and ordered lunch, watched some more TV, read some news on the internet, ate some more tangerines, and tried to cook yourself dinner.

You gave up when you couldn't find anything in your fridge. Your mom is right, it was an alarming thing to see an empty fridge.

"How do you like your unemployment?" Hyunjin appeared when you closed the fridge.

You sighed and took your phone, scrolling down the list of restaurants to order your dinner. "Fantastic!" You replied but with a deadpan.

He leaned on the kitchen island and looked at your phone screen, "Let's have some meat for dinner!"

You tipped your phone and got it out of his sight, continued scrolling.

When the food came, you spread them on the table in the living room and sat on the floor. You treated yourself to a big dinner since it was your first day of unemployment. From the amount of food you ordered, they put in three pairs of chopsticks and Hyunjin successfully secured a pair.

"You can't finish all this food by yourself," he said with squinted eyes then tore open the paper wrapper with his teeth.

You ignored him and started opening the lids, sending the mouth-watering smell wafting around the room. You slapped Hyunjin's hand as he went straight for the sliced meat.

You hissed, reminding him who had the right to eat it first since you bought it and doing so with a smirk on your face while he waited for you to finish, tugging the end of the chopsticks between his teeth.

"Can I have it now?" He asked.

Something about him reminded you of that naughty kid you knew in kindergarten, who liked to scare you by holding a caterpillar close to your face with a stick. He's annoying but in the most childish way and that was strange when you remembered that he came from hell.

"You were so cool yesterday," he said with a mouth full of rice but managed to put on a proud grin at you.

You continued eating but listened intently to what he said with stuffed cheeks.

"Breaking up with Minho," he continued.

"Oh wait, is it called breaking up even though you're not dating?"

You stabbed a piece of omelet with your chopsticks and ate it in one bite.

"I think you're the coolest when you..." he put down his chopstick and demonstrated how you slammed the resignation letter on your boss's desk.

"That's so badass!" He added in awe.

You couldn't remember the last time someone complimented you and how nice it feels, you didn't want to show him that so you suppressed your laugh by stuffing your mouth with more food.

"But winter isn't really a good time to quit your job you know," he continued, "I heard you spend more money during the winter because of gas, electricity..."

You blocked his chopsticks from taking more food and put them away, glaring at him.

He grinned at you with apologetic eyes, "I mean... why don't you get another job?"

"Why should I?" You simply asked.

He shrugged, "you have that thing called what... ambition or something like that."

"I'm not that ambitious," you said and it was true, you have enough from living day to day.

"If a painter dreams of having their paintings hung in the Louvre then a writer like you must have dreamed of seeing your writing somewhere, right?" He asked again.

It took you back to when you were in college and thinking of getting a job as a writer. You did the internship intending to fill in your resume and what happened years after that, let's say you were foolish enough for following a man and not your dream. You do have one and it is to write for the Daily K newspaper.

"I do," you answered.

He pointed his chopsticks at you, "Why don't you try to apply for a job there?"

You took a sip of water and thought why do you bother trying, it's a shot in the dark.

"I only have to live for a few more days anyway," you answered with a shrug.

"That's the point! You only have a few more days to live so you have nothing to lose, right?" He was talking but his eyes were looking at the last piece of meat and he knew that you noticed.

When you thought about it again then yes, you have nothing to lose. You can apply for a job and whether you got accepted or not, it wouldn't hurt since you'll be leaving the world forever.

You pushed the plate with the last piece of meat at him.

A smile rose on his face with his eyes formed two crescent moons.

How long was it since the last time you updated your resume? It was a long time ago that you couldn't remember it and you've been staring at your laptop screen, didn't know what to do with it.

"Shouldn't you be like... write something about yourself?" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa and flicking the channels on the TV while you sat on the carpeted floor.

"Yeah sure, my bleak life story would make them hire me," you sneered and propped a hand under your chin, still trying to come up with something to write.

"Maybe all you need is a shot of courage!" Hyunjin said.

You looked over your shoulder but he was no longer on the sofa, he was there in the kitchen holding a bottle of tequila at you.

"No thanks!" You turned down his idea straight away and looked back at your laptop, still having no idea what to write. "Where did you find it though?"

He uncapped the bottle, "it was hidden under the sink," he said and poured himself a shot of tequila.

Ah, you remembered that's where you hide your alcohol just in case your mom is coming unannounced and doing an inspection around your place.

He hissed after taking a shot and looked at you, "you sure you don't want it?"

"Nah."

"To relax the nerves?" He persuaded you once more and shook the bottle at you, his red hair looking like a swaying flame under the fluorescent light.

It was really tempting and you really did need a shot of courage, "I can't do this sober anyway," you finally caved in.

Hyunjin brought the bottle and two shot glasses to the living room with a grin on his face. He initiated a toast, raising his shot glass in the air, and said, "To cursed life!"

You clank your drink with his and meekly repeated his words, "To cursed life!"

You were too confident in yourself and could handle the alcohol well since you had a big dinner earlier. Somehow, your brain worked after a few shots and your fingers started typing nonstop. When you were done, you read it out loud to Hyunjin and asked for his opinions.

"Booooooring!" He booed, stacking his hands together and putting his chin on top.

"You should write it how you would write an article for them," he said, his plush lips red and puckered.

"Can you even get drunk?"

He closed his eyes, then grinned, "No."

You scoffed and started writing again while Hyunjin refilled both of your glasses with more alcohol. He really is the goddamn devil that you couldn't keep track of how many shots you have taken. It was blurry from there, your fingers didn't feel like they were typing but you saw how the page slowly filled with words.

You remembered reading it to him after and he laughed. You didn't know what was so funny about all this but you laughed to the point that you almost spit your drink. You both huddled in front of your laptop together and drank more tequila straight from the bottle in turns.

"This is it!" He said.

"I don't know. This sounds... so..."

"Out of this world?"

You laughed.

"Send it!"

You moved the cursor to the send button.

Hyunjin brought his mouth close to your ear, "hit the send button!"

You shivered, "oh, the devil's whisper!"

"Hit it!" He said right into your ear, a little louder.

You pushed him away while giggling and covered your ears, "okay, okay!"

You squinted your eyes with your finger only an inch away from clicking, sending in your resume through an email.

When you opened your eyes, there was a pop-up notification that the email has been sent.

"Oh fuck!" You sighed and lay yourself down on the carpeted floor.

Hyunjin lay there next to you, "see? It's not that hard!"

You stared at the ceiling with your eyes started drooping, "I'm so tired."

"You should go to bed it's cold in here," Hyunjin nudged your shoulder with his.

But it felt comfortable and you could barely keep your eyes open anymore.

"I'm sleepy," you whined.

"It's cold!" He grumbled.

Without opening your eyes, you grabbed his arm and held it close. His body heat was enough to keep you warm.

"It's warm now," you slurred and started to slowly drift into sleep.

D-8

You woke up with a cold sweat and fumble to get off the bed, then reality hits you like a bucket of cold water.

"Fuck, I keep forgetting that I'm unemployed," you groaned and went back to sleep.

You woke up after a few more hours of sleep and ordered lunch right away. Ignoring the mess from last night, an empty bottle of tequila, the dirty dishes on the table, and your laptop died from running out of battery.

Your head was pounding but you knew that it was not the usual migraine, it was the hangover.

You took a shower next, trying to get rid of the alcohol stinks, and washed the hangover away.

You felt a little better in the afternoon but your stomach still felt a little sick. You opened the fridge to only groan at how empty it was except for the bottles of water and a half box of tangerines.

You rummaged through the box of your office stuff and found the paper bag Minho gave to you that day. There were boxes of different kinds of teas inside with the name of the tea and what it's good for written on each box.

Putting your pride aside and making yourself a cup of chamomile tea, the smell of it instantly relaxed you.

"Make a cup for me too!" Hyunjin said, lying on the sofa with his hands under his head.

"Make one yourself!" You said and took a small sip of your tea.

"I feel like dying here!" He whined while lying sideways on the sofa like he was posing for a photoshoot.

"No offense," he quickly added at the end of the sentence.

You took another sip and felt better already, or you suggested to your brain that it was working on you.

"None taken!" You plainly answered.

He got up from the sofa and stretched out his long arms, his red hair messy on the back, "what's for dinner?"

That reminded you to start looking at restaurant menus, went to your bedroom to get your phone, and saw two missed calls from Kim.

You were about to hit a call back when the doorbell rang.

"Is that the food?" Hyunjin asked from the living room.

You got out of the bedroom while holding your phone, "I haven't ordered yet," you answered.

You came to the door and opened it, got stunned at the person behind it.

He was the last person you wanted to see but there he was, standing in front of you, Minho.

"Can I come in?" He asked with a smile.

You let him in because it's basic etiquette, you wanted to be polite, nothing more than that.

Hyunjin was already gone when you got back inside but Minho saw the paper bag he gave you on the kitchen island.

"You were having tea?" He asked.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction that you cherished the things he gifted for you but it was too late to hide it. You decided to play coy, "you want one?"

"Yes, please!"

You went behind the kitchen island and made him a cup of tea, doing it to ignore looking him in the eyes because you knew what those eyes can do to you.

You kept doing it when you served the steaming hot cup of tea to him.

"Thank you," he muttered but didn't take a seat on the chair.

You stood there next to the dining table, suddenly feeling like you were the one visiting his house and not the other way around.

"You are eventually going to look at me, aren't you?" He asked.

So he noticed that you've been trying to avoid them, you took a deep breath to finally look him in the eyes. There was a part of you that was glad of seeing him again and you hated yourself for it.

"I came here because I had to see you," he began, taking out the hands that has been deep inside his jeans pockets.

"Had to," he emphasized.

And that part has taken a bigger part of you the longer you stared into his eyes.

"I just don't understand this," you said.

You put your hand on the table for support as you felt like you were about to crumble down all over again.

"I mean... I was right there for years, remember?"

Even the soothing smell of the tea didn't work on relaxing you anymore.

"'This was a mistake' that's what you said to me once, that we weren't right for each other."

He looked a bit perplexed, lost in your words. "Well, I don't remember that," he innocently said.

Unlike you, he wouldn't remember saying that but you remembered how and when he said it, how those three words stuck with you ever since.

He took a step closer and placed a hand on yours, "I just know that I hated when you're gone."

He held your gaze before continuing to talk, "I kept looking at your desk at work and it was driving me crazy that I wasn't hearing from you."

He puts his forehead on yours and sighed in relief as he has just found a haven, "I don't want to lose you."

You were on the verge of plunging into another heartbreak but at the same time, couldn't say no to the thrill, "Oh... Minho," you said so hopelessly. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you, holding you by your neck, and winning your heart all over again.

"Come here," he held your face in your hands and leaned in, putting his lips on you, tearing down your guard like it was nothing but a mere warning sign.

Here you were, letting him take you to your bed and kiss all of your doubts away.

The shape of his body fits you perfectly as he lay there next to you and held you close, if this was a mistake then why it feels so right?

You pulled away to catch a breath and looked at him again to confirm that you weren't imagining it.

"I'm taking a long break at the end of the year," he said.

His hand splayed on your back with his thumb teasing the hem of your t-shirt, "I was thinking we can go on a trip together," he came up with the plan out of the blue.

"Somewhere warm with good food. Somewhere where I can see you wearing that red swimsuit I gave you," he added and pecked your lips. He once gave you a pair of swimsuits on your birthday since you planned on taking a summer vacation but the trip was canceled because your father got sick.

"What do you think?" He asked.

The invite came too suddenly and the end of the year was a month away, you only have a week in your life but sure, a trip with him, anywhere it is would be nice.

"It sounds great," you replied.

He puts a strand of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss.

"Do you mean that? I mean, are you free to do that?" You asked because you still couldn't process this, him coming and he made out with you on your bed, then asking you to come on a trip with him.

"Well, I came here to see you. I'm here now," he said and pecked your lips again.

You got a little uneasy from his vague answer and jerked your head back, "that didn't exactly answer my question."

You propped your elbow against the mattress and put a space between you and him, "does this mean you're not engaged anymore? I mean, you come here to tell me that, right?"

Minho sighed with his eyes closed and placed a hand on your shoulder, "I wish you could just accept knowing how confused I am about all this."

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder, "so you are still engaged?"

He took a second, "yes, but—"

"Oh my God!" You groaned and couldn't be faster to get off the bed, you stumbled to stand on your feet.

Minho fumbled to get up as well and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You were right about us... this was a mistake," you meekly said.

"You didn't mean that," he refused to believe you said that.

You raked your hair and tried to gather your thoughts, "I'm about three years late in telling you this but Minho, you broke my heart so many times."

You held yourself back from snapping at him by taking a deep breath, "and you acted like somehow it was my fault, my misunderstanding, and I was too in love with you to ever be mad at you. So I just punished myself for years!"

"No, I didn't—"

You didn't want to give him a chance to interrupt you so you kept going, "then you came here and told me that you don't want to lose me whilst you're still engaged to someone," you spat the fact right at his face.

It had been like that for years but that was the first time that everything became clear to you.

"It's over, Minho," you said.

He grabbed your hands and opened his mouth to speak.

You shook your head and let go of his hands, "I'm done being in love with you."

You went out of the bedroom and took his coat from the sofa, then walked to the threshold knowing that he'll follow you there.

"What's going into you?" Minho asked and it was his usual card trick that is playing the victim again.

"A realization that I've got a life to start living and you're not going to be in it, that's what got into me," you answered, handed him his coat, and opened the door for him.

He took a long, hard look at you with eyes that always work to soften your edges but it seemed like the magic has worn off.

You showed his way out with your hand and stared at him with hatred in your eyes.

There was an intense staring contest happening for a while until he reluctantly took his coat and stepped out of the door, turning around to see you for one last time.

Before he could say anything, you got ahead of him and said, "Goodbye!"

You shut the door right in his face, walked back to the living room, and lay down on the sofa. You planted your face into a cushion then screamed at the top of your lungs. You kept doing it until you ran out of breath and your throat burned dry.

"Fucking asshole," you cursed when you got up from the sofa, then started pacing around the house trying to burn the rage inside you.

"Shit! Fucking asshole! What a fucking jerk! Fuck! Argh!!!" You took the cushion and started squeezing it until it turned misshapen.

"Maybe you should make a new cup of tea!" Hyunjin said from the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sipping his tea.

"That goddamn tea!" You grumbled through your gritted teeth and shoved the tea back into the paper bag, throwing the whole thing into the trash bin.

"You can have mine then!" He offered.

You couldn't stay still, you kept pacing around with your hands balled into fists and ready to throw a punch if you have to, "argh... I have to—"

You have so much rage inside you but didn't know how to let it out, "I want to break things and scream and punch something without worrying my neighbors."

"Or maybe sit down and have a glass of water," Hyunjin suggested but doing it so calmly because he enjoyed the sight.

"I swear if I don't get it out, I'm going to fucking explode," you angrily told him with clenched jaws.

You got your coat and headed out of the door, walking aimlessly while carrying your rage inside your chest.

You ended up in a batting cage, you just wanted to tire yourself out with physical stuff and hope the rage would die down eventually.

You don't know how to play baseball but you kept batting the ball so hard and loud that it made a ringing sound and when the pitching machine stopped.

You turned at Hyunjin, "again!" You said, signaling him to put the coin into the machine.

You kept playing until there was no energy left in you and your palms were blistering from gripping the bat so hard and shaking since you didn't have dinner yet.

"Here!" Hyunjin said, handing you cold cans of beer.

You took them and held them in your hands to soothe the blisters, sighing at how good they felt.

Hyunjin opened a can for himself and started drinking, "feel better now?"

The exhaustion did work to make you forget that you were mad but it was still there, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach.

You opened a can in your hands and took a long gulp, gasping when you swallowed it all down.

"You know, he's the first and the only person I have had sex with," you blurted out.

You stared at the night sky and there was no stars or moon, only the vast darkness.

"And that's when he said it..."

You turned at Hyunjin and his red hair looking like cotton candy under the bright neon lights.

"This was a mistake," you enunciated the words one by one with a feeling like someone squeezed your heart dry when you said it.

"Since then I kept asking myself. Was it the sex? Was I not attractive enough? Was it my body? Was it me?" you rubbed your temple and sniffled, either from the cold or you were about to cry.

"A girl like me just couldn't forget such words," you said and took a small sip of your beer, you wiped the drop that escaped the corner of your mouth.

"I told him about it earlier and he said he couldn't remember saying that to me," you said in disbelief with creases on your forehead.

Tears just rolled down your cheeks like a bursting dam and you couldn't fight them but let them flood.

"How could I love such a man for three goddamn years?" You croaked and rested your forehead on Hyunjin's shoulder, closing your eyes and crying.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” you cursed yourself with a lot of regrets woven in your words.

Hyunjin put his arm around you and pulled you closer, letting you bury your head in his chest, helping you hide your sadness from the world. He kept quiet and calmly drank his beer, listening to your crying while sitting together on a bench outside a convenience store.

Your tears seeped into his clothes but in return, you felt the warmth of his embrace.

He let out a long sigh and said, "Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur."

He spoke Latin like he was a native and it sounded so beautiful coming out of his mouth, not to mention his gorgeous lips that are as red as his hair.

"Even God finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time," he translated it.

It was surprising that it was coming from him, the last person you ever wanted to hear words of comfort from yet here he was, resting his head against yours and kept shielding you from the cold, the heartbreak, and the world.

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @a-katsukitty @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @raspbinniecreme @elizalabs3 @avyskai @lachinitaaaaa @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

1K notes · View notes

blood-injections · 4 months

Text

Thinking about killjoy jackets having meaning, which like, obviously, they're personalized, they're one of the things thats always on you, like your mask or your boots. But the thing is, even if you don't have a crew or anyone to watch your back, you have your jacket to. To quote something I read on here a long time ago that has stuck with me: "They say the Phoenix Witch can’t find you if you die without your mask on. But don’t worry, she knows your boots too. Maybe all that will be left of you is boots and a mask. That’s okay. A mask means that you were someone, a pair of boots means that you went somewhere." A mask shows you were someone, boots mean you went somewhere, and adding to that, a jacket means you stood for something.

I think a killjoy's jacket can tell a story. Look for the wear and tear, the laser burns, the patched-over holes, the parts that have started to fray. That alone can be a life story. Your jacket is wearing your interests and personality literally on your sleeve and being proud to show it, that you're there and you're alive and unique in spite of the world you live in. You wear your heart stretched proudly across your back, your destiny a mantel on your shoulders, and all your friends and all your enemies can see who you are and what you stand for, what you believe in.

There's so many different ways your jacket could come to be Yours. You find one one, make one, personalize it, but I think you could take it a step further, donning a dusted friend's or crew member's jacket is a vow, saying I will avenge you and honor your memory, and that memory, that legacy, that jacket becomes yours over time as your blood and sweat stains it instead, and the holes in it get patched with your colours now. Or maybe your jacket didn't used to belong to a friend, but an enemy. Maybe some killjoys take the jacket of the first scarecrow they stand against, fight and win, as a trophy, as proof to yourself that you're a survivor, you're a killjoy. Its a Fuck You to Better Living, its telling them my legacy with the grave of yours, its taking their sterile white and butchering it, tearing the city down in the form of personalizing your new jacket. Nobody in the desert wears white, but if you see a killjoy that is you'll know instantly its because they've fought and survived, and they're only wearing that white because they haven't had the opportunity to go buy some paint yet.

And then there's making a jacket for someone. A show of trust or devotion or pride above anything else. Its a love letter, a graduation certificate, a medal of honor. If someone's wearing a jacket that was made for them, then they've earned it somehow. It means you're worthy as a killjoy, as a friend. Wearing a jacket that was gifted to you, probably by an older 'joy, or a mentor, a friend, means they're dear to you in some way. You would die with their work, their name on you. It's wearing their heart on your sleeve right beside your own. Gifting a jacket to someone means you want that. It recognizes them as a killjoy, as a part of your story, and you of theirs, now.

A killjoy's jacket is a book, its both your shield and sword, its a legacy, and it can be a gravestone, or a curse, or a promise. Its you.

#danger days #ttlotfk #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #mcr danger days #danger days headcanons #killjoy headcanons #zonesposting #killjoy culture #corvidscrap

116 notes · View notes

ornii · 2 months

Note

Could you please tag me in all the parts of my kind of crazy? Cuz i found part 1 and 2 but cant find the rest. And if there is no more could you please continue it?

Yeah I still need to learn how Tagging works, so if anyone can, let me know. But to answer your question no I haven’t made a part three

Until now!

My Kind of Crazy, Part 3

Inside the run down office building, Red Hood motions for Deadshot to follow him. Katana watches them closely as Red Hood opens the door and they both step in, the room was a large office space with multiple computers running programs and systems. And FBI workers tearing and wiping the files. And the one ordering them around was Amanda Waller arguing with Flag.

“You wouldn't have made it without them.” She spoke, packing.

“We got lucky. I don't do luck. I do planning and precision.” Rick replies, and Waller shrugs it off.

“Admit it, Rick. I was right.” She spoke, and Flag wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, I told you to get on the damn truck. Why'd you stay?” He eyed Waller, who stopped packing and gave flag a harsh reality check.

“I was studying your girlfriend. She takes an average person, a yoga mom, an elderly retiree, and she turns them into a soldier who can take a headshot and still fight. It's an instant army. How'd she do it, Flag? How'd she game the system with you watching her every move?” Waller asked, it it was obvious she knew the answer already. Flag buried his pain and ignored the question.

“I'll accept the consequences.” He said

“I am your consequence.” Waller replied with stern emphasis. Just as he prepares to weasel out again, Deadshot and Red Hood approached.”You might need to be careful. They think we're rescuing Nelson Mandela.” Deadshot eyes Waller, who walks past him

“I can take care of myself. Shut it down, wipe the drives.” She gives the order to the Agents who continue to wipe their digital prints from this Operation. Deadshot leans into flags ear as he watches Waller.

“Uh, hey, man, I know you can't hear me 'cause you're trapped in your temple of soldierly self-righteousness, but a two-faced dude like you wouldn't survive a second on the street.” Deadshot points out the obvious Hypocrisy, Flag being called out for lying about this High Value Target.

“Oh, says the guy who shoots people for money.” Flag retorts, Red turns quickly to Waller at the sound of gunfire. Waller has systematically executed the workers. Red could only watch, knowing Waller or Flag could turn his brain into mush. Waller leaves, and Red Hood eyes flag, who doesn’t look very happy about what he’s just witnessed.

“That is just a mean lady.” Deadshot follows.

“Yeah. You get used to it.” Flag grumbled, Red walks past him, “I don’t think a good soldier would let innocent people die, but what do I know right?” Red and Deadshot exit the room, and the Squad see who they’ve been made to protect. Waller and Flag step out into the frying pan of sorts.

“Let's go home.” Flag ordered, it it wasn’t on a natural bass, more of a coercive tone, but it obviously wasn’t working.

“Yeah, let's go home. That sounds good. You guys wanna go home? Or you wanna go back to prison?” Boomerang said, obviously sarcastic, they all had their reasons for not going back home.

“What I'm saying is we kill the pair of 'em now before they kill us.” Boomerang said, which many of agree with, slowly surrounding them, “I got this.” Waller took this one herself, letting Katana and Flag watch, she stepped before the squad, “You all made it this far. Don't get high-spirited on me and ruin a good thing.” Waller shows the explosive device in her hand, much like the one Flag has, all set to explode just like Red Hood predicted. The Squad all share a glance, and they reluctantly escort Waller to the roof. The dark sky has hints of neon lights and flames dance in the sky. Regrouping with Flags men they watch a Helicopter fly towards the Building.

“Savior One-Zero, this is Ground Element. Savior One-Zero, how copy? Savior One-Zero, the LZ's clear.” One of Flags men tries to hail down the Chopper, but no response.

“Boss, they're not talking to me.” He spoke, and Flag quickly assessed the situation, “Our bird's been jacked. Light it up!” Flag and his men open fire on the Helicopter, its panel opens up to Joker, dressed in a suit and with an AK opening fire with manic laughter, a minigun mounted on the heli also opens fire on them, ducking behind AC generators to keep from getting torn to shreds. Red Peers over the unit and his eyes catch a glimpse of that face, the manic laughter, the pale skin. A flood of rage built into Red and he leaped over the Unit, firing his dual pistols at the helicopter. Titanium composite hollow tipped bullets, with a C4 Kicker, explosive ammunition he made himself, the shots land hard on the wall that actually begin to make a dent. They turn the Minigun to him and looks to shred him, before Red can get turned into mince meat, Diablo comes in and tackles him before another AC Unit. He saved Red, who looked at the man, he shrugged it off and kept down to avoid bullet fire, but this wasn’t a random attack it was coordinated, Harley begins to walk to the Helicopter, and Waller orders Flag to execute her, but every tap of the device leads to an error. Harley leaps to the rope and escapes, leaving Waller one less of a member, and Red, a missed opportunity. Dead soldiers litter the roof and everyone steps out of cover, Waller making a B line for Deadshot.

“Deadshot, shoot that woman right now!” She yells, and Deadshot shrugs

“She ain’t do shit to me.” He said lazily

“You're a hitman, right? I got a contract. Kill Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and your kid.” Waller said, which was more than enough for him.

“Now she dead.” He walked to a Unit and mounted to fire, heat her Harley dance and swing around, and takes the shot, Harley’s body goes limp, but she suddenly laughs and swings more around, Deadshot missing on purpose, he walked back to the ground.

“I missed.” He said, and Red wasn’t listening, all he felt was red, his chance to kill the Joker, gone. He walked over to the corpse of one of the soldiers, snatching a rifle from its cold dead hands and he mounts up as well, everyone watches as the helicopter takes a slight left. He took everything into consideration and fired, the bullet flew and it hit the cockpit and straight through the pilots skull. They watched the helicopter spiral and go down. Red turned to the group and dropped his gun.

“Got what I wanted… We done here?” He said, everyone was silent, showing the ruthless cold side of the Red Hood. No one knew how to take it, but it’s safe to say for the Red Hood, that felt good. Another Heli picked up Waller and they left. Flag waits as the chopper soars off into the night deploying Flares. Minutes pass and Flag calls in, and listens.

“Ops just confirmed. She's down. 1k west. Let's go get her. The mission's not over.” Flag and his men turned to the exit with the “Heroes”

“Nah. It is for me. We had a deal.” Deadshot spoke up for most of them, everyone.

“Without Waller, you got nothing.” Flag walked off, and the group reluctantly follows. Making ground back on the floor they run into a less than happy Harley Quinn, who survived somehow. She spots them and attempts to put on a happy face.

“So.. shot any good birds lately?” she asked, mixed with sarcasm and scorn.

“One… if it means anything I wasn’t aiming for you.” Red Replies.

“I could kill you..” Harley grumbled

“You’d die trying..” Red replies as they approached Wallers downed chopper. Tears the door open croc side stepped to let them see. But no Waller. Dead corpses but none hers. Red Activated his detective mode in his visor. He scans around and they’re dead.

“I don’t see any of Wallers blood, gun residue everywhere though.. she tried to fight off whoever came for her.. rains going to be a pain in the pass to pick up any blood or sweat to track.”

“What’s your point?” Deadshot asked, Red turned to him. “My Point.. is that they captured her, they didn’t want her dead.. that have some use for her. But for what, I don’t know.” He said, and spots Wallers bag and began to ruffle though it. And sees a black binder and begins to sift though it and red was silent, he turned to Deadshot and handed him the binder. “The Hell’s this?” He asked.

“Why we’re here..” he responds, Deadshot reads it and looked back up to Red, he angrily takes the binder and storms off to Flag, he hurls the binder at the wall and everyone turns to flag. Deadshot and Flag are eye to eye.

“You tell everybody everything. Or me and you gonna go right now.” He said, and flag’s face told a story, and he reluctantly explained. “Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the subway station, So Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities. Enchantress. A witch. See, nobody could get near this thing, but the witch could. Needless to say, the whole thing was a bad idea, the woman was… possessed by the Enchantress, she’s held captive by her. We were going to blast a hole in the subway under the entity and.. she tricked us with the bomb, And that's how she escaped from Waller. So now you know.” Flag explained his turmoil, to everyone who listened and everyone respectfully was sick of it. Red scoffed, “we’re sent on this death mission to fix your fuck up..” he folds his arms, and Deadshot shook his head and looked around, and saw a Bar.

“You can just kill me right now, but I'm going to have a drink.” Deadshot walked off and Harley follows.

“Hey, Deadshot, I need your help.” Flag pleads, but flint shook his head

“No, sir. You need a miracle.” Deadshot and the others head in, Red Hood was the last to leave and looks Flag up and down. “Might as well call the big man in the sky for that.” He gave one last stinger and walked into the bar, he saw the others enjoying their drinks and slumped in a seat next to Deadshot. Harley was tending and eyed the man.

“Oh, Dead Hood.” Harley still has a pretty sharp bone to pick with him.

“Not my name…” he responded and Deadshot looks around.

“Well, we almost pulled it off despite what everybody thought.”

“We weren’t picked to succeed..” Diablo chimes in, and Deadshot agrees, “Worst part of it is, they're going to blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up. Don't forget, we're the bad guys. And, uh, for about two sweet seconds, I had hope.” Deadshot flushed down his drink.

“You had hope, huh? Hope don't stop the wheel from turning, my brother.” Diablo looks at the empty shot glass before him

“You preaching?”

“It's coming back around for you. How many people you killed, man?” Diablo asks Deadshot, who admittedly probably doesn’t even know, the bodies left in his wake. “It’s Karma for us, especially for me..” he continued

“See, I was born with the Devil's gift. I kept it hidden for most of my life, but... The older I got, the stronger it got. So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more fire power I got. Like, that shit went hand in hand. You know? One was feeding the other. Ain't nobody tell me no. Except my old lady. You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it. God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away? See, when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just... I don't know what I do..till it's done.” Diablo made a woman of fire in his hand.. and snuffed out her flame, Red listened, memories of his own father flooding on.

“And the kids?” Boomerang asked, fearful himself.

“He killed them.” Red spoke up, and he took off his helmet to reveal his face and sighed. “I remember…” Red stopped talking and shut up, almost revealing his other identity, but Harley wasn’t up for silence.

“Own that shit. Own it! What'd you think was gonna happen? Huh?” She said to Diablo.

“Hey, Harley. Come on.”

“What, you were just... Thinking you can have a happy family and coach little leagues, and make car payments? Normal's a setting on the dryer. People like us, we don't get normal!” She yelled, and Boomerang sharply put his glass down.

“Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth? You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly. We all are.” He said, and Red piped up. “.. So, you just.. willow in that hole?” He started and stood up, he walked over to Diablo as everyone watched. “You kill your wife and kids and you think you deserve a cell for the rest of your life? Feeling sorry for yourself? I got a temper too so I understand, but you’re still in control of your actions.” Red turned to Harley.

“You know why I shot your chopper down?” He asked, everyone really leans in now. Red shows the J scar on his cheek, “see who I got this from?” He said, and Harley began to remember. “You’re—“

“I was.. Robin. I probably helped put a few of you in prison. I went after Joker by myself one time. Didn’t think Batman understood.. and my temper got me. He.. beat me, for days, starved, tortured me, and once in a while, I saw you in the corner, laughing. And when he finished, he blew me to pieces.. I was fourteen. Lazus pit.. Now look at me. This, was my choice... Now I gotta live with it. Same way you gotta live with it.” (Y/n) walked back to his seat, and slumped down.

Everyone was silent, he felt a glass tap his finger and he looked up to Harley give what he can only assume is an apology whiskey. “Mista J is.. not the best when it comes to dealing with kids. I guess I’m not either, maybe you were right when you said that.. maybe I’m just another victim, I mean what lady watches a man beat a.. teenager.” She said to herself, Red took it and downed it effortlessly. “I’m twenty two now, not a teenager anymore.”

For a moment it seemed the two can actually form a decent but obviously volatile relationship, but then, Flag enters the Bar and slumps down next to Red.

“We don't want you here.” Harley frowns, and Flag looks at Red, “You get to the part in that binder saying I was sleeping with her?” He said, Red raises an eyebrow. “Nope, I never been with a witch before. What's it like? I mean I’ve flirted with death before but I don’t go that far.” Red shrugged and Deadshot leaned to see Flag.

“Apparently, that's why the creatures chase him all the time. 'Cause the witch is scared of him.” He chuckled, but Flag shook his head, pain in his voice.

“The only woman I ever cared about is trapped inside that monster. If I don't stop the witch, it's over. Everything is over. Everything. You're free to go.” Flag smashes the device and breaks it, and Boomerage makes a break for it. Red sighs and turns to Flag. “Your girlfriend is going to destroy the world, isn’t she?” He asked, Flag was silent and Red put the mask Back on and gripped his pistols. “Well.. fuck it.” Red stood up. “Let’s go Flag.. least you can say you died tying.” Red walked away, and everyone watched him, and Deadshot sighed and stood up and followed out, Red peeked back in.

“Yo Harley, you coming?” He asked, she shrugged and grabbed her baseball bat. “Don’t have anything else better to do.” She said and followed, everyone now filled with a bit of nepotistic energy follow, if they head into the abyss, at least they go in screaming. flag has the back of the squad, even if they’re “Criminals.” And Captian Boomerang comes back, like a, Boomerang.

Outside the large square, the squad now prep for the final assault, Red tossing a camera to a wall and using his visor to look around, “looks like there’s a woman.. and a massive guy next to her, that’s our targets?”

“Yeah. It isn’t going to be easy getting to her, I did leave a big demo charge down there in that subway. There's a flooded tunnel, leads right underneath that building. SEALs, they can recover the charge, swim in underneath that thing's feet. We get in its face and distract the hell out of that son of a bitch so the swimmers can blow the bomb. That's how we take it out.” Flag gives a solid plan. Croc pipes up

“I'm going with ya.” He spoke to the SEALS, as if they had some choice.

“We got this.” One said, and croc tore off his upper shirt and jacket. “I'm not asking, bro. I live underground. Y'all are just tourists.” Croc and the seals swim in the flooded subway and the main squad prepare for a literal suicide mission. They walked along the subway and corpses strung the pillars. Blood and black ooze follow. They reach the central station platform. Inside felt like a theatre of darkness, whatever dark magic she was conjuring.

“Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?” Harley asks

“Yeah. Why?” Red replies.

“I'm off my meds.” She weakly smiled. Deadshot and Flag look to the center, of Enchantress continuing to open the

“So that's your old lady?” Deadshot nods in approval.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you need to handle this shit, all right? Get up there, smack on her ass, tell her, "Knock this shit off." Deadshot said, which flag couldn’t tell if he was being serious it not.

“I do not think that'd be wise. I'm gonna draw out the big one. My boys will detonate the bomb underneath him.” Flag gives the order but before they step out, Enchantress calls out to them.

“I've been waiting for you all night. Step out of the shadows. I won't bite. Why are you here? Because the soldier led you? And all for Waller. Why do you serve those who cage you? I am your ally. And I know what you want.” The woman calls out, and begins to show the squad their true dreams, what they truly wish for, Deadshot to rewrite that day, Harley., a family. And (Y/n), who stood across Bruce with a smile, as he’s still Robin.

“Alright Bruce.. what’s on tonight?”

“Patrol, Arkham’s never safe.” He said sternly, (Y/n) gave a smirk and nodded. He felt the suddenly jank of reality, Red saw Diablo in his face.

“It's not real. She trying to play games with you, man. - It's not real!” He yells to all of them, who slowly come down from their dream, and step out to face enchantress. She sees her tricks didn’t work, and frowns.

“The sun is setting, and the magic rises. The metahumans are a sign of change.” Enchantress saw their minds aren’t changing now, and casted a spell, stomping from the back the larger monster approached.

“Who's this?”

“It's gonna be bad!”

“We should run.”

Red Didn’t take advice well and charges in, leaping past its tendrils and firing off his rounds, it began to bend the mental skin and make the monster cry out. He leaped onto its back and slammed an explosive charge on it, he hurls red hood off of him. Deadshot takes aim and hits the explosive dead on, but no effect! Boomerang hurls his boomerangs that do not to stop it, the monster grabs the Australian by the neck and prepares to turn him as well. Kitana leaps off a counter and slices the hand off with a clean cut, only for the Mayan grow it back, bullets and explosives only infuriate it. Before Harley can get crushed by the Mayan for a bat swing, Red fires his grappling hook to her shirt and reels her to safety.

“We can get him in the corner.” Red pops off more shots, and Diablo steps up!

“I lost one family. I ain't gonna lose another one. I got this. Let me show you what I really am.” Diablo rushed forward and blast a bellow of flames at it, only to infuriate the monster who kicks him away. It awaken the true El Diablo! His body underwent a harrowing transformation into El Diablo! The meta human battles with the Mayan. Pushing him to the edge he and the Mayan are right at the corner

“Diablo, get clear! Get outta there!” Flag yells, the Meta turns to them, “Blow it!” He orders, and Red watched The Mayan and Diablo go up in smoke and rubble in the explosion. He laid for it.. he lived. And died with his choice. Red stood up and walked to the hole, but he forgot that this battle was far from over, Enchantress still had her power.

“My spell is complete. Once you and your armies are gone, my darkness will spread across this world. And it will be mine to rule.” Enchantress activated her portal, which begins to tear the world apart. And the true enchantress escapes, her body devoid of color, black, like the ooze leaking from all she touches, and she attacks them, their bullets, blades, nothing can harm her!

“You got a move here, Flag?” Red tackled flag out of the way from getting his head taken off.

“We gotta cut her heart out. While we're fighting, that thing's laying waste to the whole damn world.” Flag said, “You guys have any plans on cutting her heart out?”

“I got one..” Red said. “How long have you been thinking about it?” Harley adds in.

“Maybe five minutes..” Red begins to try something, anything, tapping into the power of the Lazuris pit and felt a heartbeat within it all. A hilt of pure red energy began to emit from his heart. He gripped the handle with both palms and pulled it from him, a red blade of energy was now his. “Huh, this might work.. I cut her chest open and you guys tear the heart!” Red gives the order and charges in, Enchantress swings and fires magic, Red put the blade up and it began to deflect the magic, he leapt forward with a slash and fought Enchantress in the arm. It cut her body made of magic. Her body couldn’t heal from it, the scar emitting a red haze. She looked up worried and Red begins to put more pressure on her, and catches her right on the chest with an upward slash, Enchantress screams in pain, and the squad see the chance, Harley, Deadshot, Kitana and Boomerag grab her arms and legs and flag comes from behind. Just for the moment Enchantress was taken aback, and Red goes in with a blade straight though her heart. Time slows down as the enchantress blinked. The light leaving her eyes in a flash the eruption of light left the station and the bleak sun shined though, and June was right before Red. Confused and why a sword was though her body Which disappeared. Flag realized that his June was back, and hugged her. I suppose it was a happy ending

“Y'all don't mind, I got me a sewer to crawl back into.” Croc turns to leave and Red sighed and turned to the front, “Yeah, and I got some business to handle back in Gotham.” Red dusts himself off

“I'm going to hotwire a car. Need a ride?” Harley offered, but before he can reply, Waller, who’s somehow still alive steps out with her explosive device.

“How are you not dead?” Deadshot said in disbelief. “We just saved the world. A "thank you" would be nice.” Harley spoke, and Waller tilts her head “Thank you.” She said sarcastically, “You're welcome.” Harley replies with a smile.

“So, we did all of this and we don't get shit?”

“Ten years off your prison sentences.”

“Nah, that's not enough. I'm seeing my daughter.” Deadshot kept his eyes locked on Waller who reluctantly agreed.

“That can be arranged. Any other requests?” “An espresso machine.” Harley said

“…BET.” croc nods, and Boomerang scoffs.

“Ten years off a triple life sentence? Darling, I'm walking out of here a free man or we're going to start having some real fun.” He approaches Waller, who coldly stepped up to Boomerang. “Why don't we have some fun?” She replies scaring the piss out of the Captian. Red shrugged, he got his revenge after all.

Back at Belle Reeve, (Y/n) sits in his cell, footsteps echo from the Door and he cracks his knuckles, ready to fight.

“Whoever it is… gonna put.. 14 in the ICU.” He said, and the voice of God, Waller spoke to him. “That won’t be needed, you’re getting released.”

“…What?” He stood up from his bed, staring at the Door expecting death, what opened was something much more than that, he could only muster one word

“…Bruce?”

@henkermen

#male reader #suicide squad #harley quinn x male reader #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #suicide squad X male reader #ornii

61 notes · View notes

threepandas · 2 months

Text

Sun Burnt: Part 3

When a legendary hitman Eye Threatens to break both your fucking legs?

They Are Not Joking.

FUCKING OW.

Still! Jokes on HIM! I'm in to that sh-! Wait, no, not the time for memes! Or is it jokes? Irrelevant! I can still fuckin RUN, is the thing. Sucks to SUCK, Sun boy! Us Lightnings are BUILT DIFFERENT!

And I BETTER not hear any snide "yeah I BET they are" from the peanut gallery!

My Flame type ROCKS! I am a TAZER who can put my fist through WALLS. Stand dead center of a road and just? Fuckin TANK a speeding car! Can YOU? Didn't THINK so! Lightning supremacy! One of you fuckers gimme a highfive! HELL YEAH!

But also? Like... I take back EVERYTHING I ever said about the Carcassa.

ALL OF IT.

They are the GEMS of the Mafia. The SHINING HEARTS of raw compassion! Skull-sama's willingness to PERSONALLY piss off The "I AM The Dread God Lesser Deity's Fear" Reborn? An inspiration to us all. I... I would steal for this man. Like? For FREE. Not DIE for him or anything, God no, but? I would steal really REALLY expensive shit for him!

The man's an absolute mad lad. A LEGEND.

I will NEVER forget this... assuming I survive.

Because somehow HE already has my name, face, and multiple alias plastered OUT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. Ha ha... oh god. Thaaaaat is a bounty. BIG bounty. Lots of zeros. G...gonna die.

My phone chimes.

"You know exactly who this is. Pick up." The screen reads, right before it rings.

HA HA, NOPE!

I stand, well more like shoot to my feet, from my seat on the ground. Quuuuick steps too the blimp windows. Wrench those open. Sim card out! Crush the phone. AND YEET!!! BeGONE DEMOOOON!

We shall NOT be engaging with The Devil today! No Sir!

.....Skull's phone starts ringing.

I whine like a cornered animal. So... this is what a real life horror movie feels like. NEAT. I hate it! I watch, probably shaking, as Skull-sama casually drags out his phone. Glances down at it. Then over his shoulder at me. He doesn't even fully turn his head. Just one Cloud flame purple eye that seems to light up from within.

He's a happy go lucky guy. Cool dude. But like all Clouds? Fucking HATES cages. Being or SEEING other imprisoned. Trapped. Cornered and forced to do something against their will. And as the planet's STRONGEST Cloud?

He's always had exactly zero problems telling Reborn to fuck off to his face. Even when it gets him shot at. Everyone knew that.

"Sempai! Calling the GREAT Skull De Mort just to CHAT~♡? I KNEW you loved me BESTEST!" He PROJECTS into the phone, his speaking cadence shifting.

He'd been gregarious, bombastic even, the whole time I'd been on board. The sort of guy you can't help but want to buy street food with and check out some weird local sight you heard about. The guy that turns an event into a PARTY. A get together into a memory you TREASURE. Larger then life and unashamedly so.

But this? THIS was the SHOWMAN.

And this was the Showman being Obnoxious and MEAN.

Loud, intentionally grating voice. No break in the endless flood of mind numbing chatter that went no where. Bellowing cackling that even the best of speakers would be hard pressed to handle. Standing near machines and windows so the background noise garbled EVERYTHING.

Let no one say Clouds are not PETTY.

"Hmmmmm~? Your WHAT? Sempai! Don't be SILLY! You can't OWN people! That's SLAVERY! It's against~...!" He turned, leaning like a rock star of old against some navigation compartment. Casually examining his nails with a MEAN and wolfish smile on his face. "Waaaaa! Don't be maaad~ Don't be MAAAAAD~!! You know I'd NEVER lie to YOU, Sempai! I'd never DARE! I promise I'll keep a look out, m'kay? What? Don't hang up? Sorry! Can-KRRRRSHK! n't quite KKKKKRRRRRSK! Heeeeear yoooouuuuu~☆!"

Click.

He casually tossed his phone to one of his men. Ignored it even as it rang and rang. With an excited clap of his hand, he hopped up, out of his loose legged splay to stride over. According to him? We should eat! Have I had Burmese food? It's delicious! One of his guys just got "into" the whole cooking thing! So everyone is being supportive!

I can't help but laugh. Everyone politely ignores how wet it is, as Skull-sama throws an arm over my shoulders and drags me from the cockpit.

I know I'm not safe. But for now? Fuck it. Good enough. Maybe Skull-sama knows someplace Reborn might not IMMEDIATELY find me. And who knows? When this all blows over? Maybe I should join up with his crew. Reborn can't be THAT obsessed. Right? It was just the initial harmony high. With no Sky to actually bind us, he'll lose interest.

Behind me... the phone rings.

And rings.

And RINGS.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #sunburnt au #yandere khr #yandere reborn #Skull is a bamf #and a bro #Clouds are the Anti-Yandere #they DO NOT play this nonsense #beGONE THOT #reborn refuses to begone #violence ensues #lightning flames reader #reader insert #reborn khr #khr

54 notes · View notes

nonbinarylocalcryptid · 3 months

Text

Another angst scene from Mutiny feat. Astyanax

The kid watched him work the rope around Odysseus' wrist with deceitful boring eyes. He was silent, but watching, ready to strike. When he got like that, Eurylochus always forgot he was just a kid.

A kid who tilted his head when he didn't understand things.

"Do you really think tying his hands will stop him?"

What was Eurylochus supposed to answer? He went with the truth.

"No, but it'll buy us time."

Astyanax hummed, looking bored again.

"Hm, coward."

Once he had tied his brother's hands, he should have get Up and walked away. Instead he kept pushing.

"We have treated his wound, you can let your guard down now."

"Not happening, no matter how painful it is, I can no longer trust any of you, Perimedes is lucky to be alive, but I thought, 'hey, we actually need him to row', and I decided to wait, he's going to die anyway." There was a something sinister on his face that resembled a smile. "We must do whatever it takes to survive."

Despite the kid's fearless front, a shaking hand search for Odysseus, grabbing the unconcious man's shirt. Eurylochus chose not to comment on that.

"So this is your resolution."

"I have always been frank to you, pity you can't say the same."

"I have one last question for you."

Why condemn a kid to Odysseus's madness? How long until the self-proclaimed father turned against the boy? Could Eurylochus even convince him to join him?

"I'll listen," it sounded like a warning, "but I don't owe you an answer."

"Why are you so set in getting him home? What do you get from him that you can't get from us?"

Astyanax looked puzzled for a second, surely because he expected a whole different question, but he answered.

"Well, I don't care about Ithaca, there's nothing for me there, but he gives me both love and purpose."

"Just that? You are so quickly in turning away the crew for the love of your father?"

A humourless laugh came from the boy, surprising him.

"You see, that's the difference between you and me. You don't care for him as a person anymore, but I do. You'll kill him without hesitation if that would get you home but I rather chew off my own foot than make him suffer." Eurylochus sighed, and it didn't go unnoticed, as the boy tilted his head again. "Hm, interesting, you pity me, why?" Something as dark as playful settled on his face. "Do I sound too much like Polites to you? Or is it the shame what clouds your judgement? What would your wife say if she knew how many times have you wronged her big brother?"

"Don't bring my wife into this."

"Can you even call her that? You don't even fight for her anymore!"

Whatever Eurylochus' answer was, it died in his throat, interrupted and gone before being said.

"Sir, an island!"

"We are not done here." He said, finally getting up.

"Yes we are, you fool." A shadow had took place in Astyanax's face and didn't leave. "We don't need treators."

#daddy odysseus au #astyanax lives #mutiny #thunder saga #odysseus #the odyssey #astyanax #eurylochus

78 notes · View notes

freuleinanna · 10 months

Text

wake up honey dropping a doctor who theory here. bear with me, i'm not just crying over 14 and donna, i think it actually holds!!

so, bi-generation. okay. 15 popping out in his therapized glory. so basically, i don't think he just pushed all trauma to 14 and moved on. 15 is actually post-14. meaning, he has lived that life at the same time as he continued living his own life.

remember 13 looked into Time and got split into three? yeah, that. she was in three places simultaneously. her consciousness was, at least. what can't 14, what that recent knowledge, subconsciously do the same? he's just experienced that, and he's still running on regeneration jiuce. worth mentioning, the dude (gender neutral) had a piss with Time his whole life. looking into Vortex, diving into Time itself... the doctor is not disintegrating per se, but can, as proven, survive being split. why not let one part of him live longer?

so he does. he finds home in donna and her family. he's doing whatever the hell. squinting over sci fi books, getting whupped for accidentally buying non-vegan milk for rose ("you said the orange cartbox with stripes!!!" "A STRIPE! WITH A STRIPE! CAN'T TIME LORDS COUNT, YOU DUMBO?!").

having the most difficult heart-to-hearts with his best friend, finally telling her about his companions, the master, the flux. crying, grieving, healing.

looking up at a spaceship torpedoing into the ground and saying "that's a future me problem", dealing cards to donna because it's poker night. and donna is a bit surprised, how easily he let that go, and he just smiles, and holds her hand, and kisses her knuckles gently. and it's alright. "there'll be time for that," he says.

and then they both grow old. and 14 ages. and i don't know if donna dies first or not, it's unimportant. maybe the night she dies it happens. 14 grieves, and cries some more, and says goodbyes. he calls his favorite niece, and when all is said and done, he's ready.

only he isn't about to die, because his essence has to reunite. this part of him has been away for a very long time, and it was the happiest time ever, but he has to be restored. just like 13 had to collect shards of herself back into one, so does 14.

the very particles of his being are reuniting, and it feels like spreading, or travelling, and his silly poetic mind is pleased with the sensation... only to feel regeneration coming full tide, and suddenly he's back on the roof, looking at himself.

"no way!" "will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?!"

but the thing is, he didn't get split at that moment like we think. he got back together. bi-generation. two regenerations happened at the same time, looped one into another. 14 regenerated twice.

and now, now he watches himself exhausted and broken, and he can let himself go. he can sincerely say that it's going to be alright, because he knows it is. donna is right there. she'll take him home.

and he can continue on his way.

#is it alright? does it hold?#let me know #doctor who #doctor who spolier #doctor who meta #doctor who theory #the giggle #the giggle spoilers #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #donna noble #ncuti gatwa #david tennant #catherine tate #doctor who regeneration #bigeneration #dw #dw spoilers #nuwho

173 notes · View notes

dummie-writes · 4 months

Text

the party walkers

self insert ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 4.38k

previous part: a rescue mission

note: heyyyyy guyssss I'm back. the rot consumed (the rot is sbg), and even though it took longer, I have a chapter for you :3 also, if you guys would like a tag list, lemme know? I've never really done a long term fan fiction over tumblr, so, uh, yeah? also if you wanna be on the tag list but don't wanna follow me, that's absolutely fine. I don't mind either way lol. just lemme know. anyway, I hope you enjoy :D thanks for your patience

iii. over a horizon, somewhere

the air in the hallway smells like dust and makes your skin crawl with chill. as your eyes dart to and from everywhere you can see, your breathing again is as silent as you can make it. you've had to practice breathing invisibly way too much for your liking. you're lucky this house is the same layout as your real life home, because even though everything has gone to shit, at least you were able to check which parts of the floor creak over here. did your parents give you an odd look for shifting your weight and stepping on and off seemingly random parts of the floor? maybe. but if a weird look was the price of survival, it was cheap and worth buying.

your foot was so light on that first step that you almost thought you hadn't actually put it down. no noise - good. actually, you hadn't seen or heard any of what everyone else had been referring to as phantoms in a good while. probably a night or two - mainly because you weren't looking to escape, you, we're just trying to survive at that point. you felt kind of stupid, not being able to buy proper medical supplies for your bathroom to take care of your injury - but you didn't have an independent credit card, and your parents could see all your purchases. they were kinda weird, they didn't like letting you access your money. it was obnoxious. and deadly, and this case.

but that was beside the point right now.

you had gotten to your bedroom door, which was torn entirely off of its hinges, splinters of poorly painted wooden fibers scattered thoughtlessly in the carpet. peeking inside revealed no monster, not from you could see, at least. to further muffle your footsteps, you had worn thick socks to bed. your shoes were in your backpack, and you wouldn't have time to put them on until you got to… wherever their base was? they never actually explained it. just said something about a bus. but, that's ashlyn banner for you.

(it's not, actually, she had wanted to go much more into depth on it, but you all had gotten so busy making a plan to not die that the specifics of the place got muddled.)

your backpack was neatly placed on you bed, where you had left it before “falling asleep”. you wasted no time in tip toeing to your closet and grabbing all the jackets you could find, throwing them on to save space before swinging your bag on both shoulders, tying the loose adjustable ends together to secure it, even if just slightly. grabbing all the blankets you could before you left, your next destination was the kitchen. your mom had stocked up on lunachbles the other day! this made things convenient for you, so you grabbed as many as you could, stuffing them in your pockets. glancing out the window for a second, the street is an eerie quiet. the sky, red, per… well, per what you assume would be usual. stranded vehicles in their driveway, the pavement unbothered by time.

a head appears in the window, upside-down as it swings like a pendulum on top of the roof.

“OH MY G- aiden! what the fuck!”

“haha got you.”

despite your shaking hands and the buzzing of surprise in your legs, you open your window, pushing out the screen and pulling the blonde in as quickly as you could manage.

“what are you doing here? you guys aren't supposed to be here for another ten or so?”

“I got sent ahead to make sure you weren't alone if something attacked you,” he says with a wide smile. as goofy as aiden can be at times, he has yet to not be on your side in this situation. his nose wrinkles in the slightest way when he grins like that. his odd smile freaks you out sometimes, honestly, but right now it brings you more comfort than anything else.

“oh. ashlyn let you go? like, alone? without ben?”

“no, lol, I sent me. I was getting bored.”

this earns him a dumbfounded blink, and then you sigh, pinching your nose as you open your mouth to criticize his poor decision.

“duck!”

some sort of primal instinct pushes you down, the hair on the back of your neck prickling as a collectable figurine goes flying through the air, and the hiss of pain behind you let's you know that something has found you.

“shitshitshitshitshitshitshit-” you're skittering to the window before your brain actually loads in to the situation, and it does when you're halfway through the window. aiden secures his stance, like he's about to fight this thing! that idiot!

you grab his arm, pulling him backward as hard as you can, hearing his shoulder pop and a small “ow :(“ as the two of you clamber through the opening. the imprint of the window frame leaves a red cent in your shoulder, and you hiss as you fall onto your back. aiden rolls his shoulder back without missing a beat, his lips now pulled back into the more energetic lines they usually are. he pops up, putting his palms flat on the glass and pulling down, closing it.

“fuck! are you okay?”

“yeah I'm good.”

well, that was that, then. you stand there for a moment, your hands on your knees as you pant, trying to relax the tension in your legs from a moment before. you didn't actually have much time, you guys needed to get out of there. your fingers weakly paw at the spilled items on the floor from your backpack, which tore when you guys fell out of your room. stuffing what you could back into it, someone grabs your arm and pulls you up before you even look at who it is. your other arm swings back, your gaze shaking as you hear a deeper voice, tyler's, specifically, gasp and pull back, rubbing his cheek.

“you guys need to not do that, oh my gosh.”

tyler sharply looks at you, eyebrows scrunched up in irritation, before his face gravitates to look at aiden in the same manner. “you are in such big trouble, that annie wanna-be is worried. and also pissed. really, really pissed.”

aiden mocks a shocked face.

“omg she's worried about me?? I knew she cared.”

tyler is unimpressed by this to say the least, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to your feet, holding your shoulder stiffly as he examines you, making sure your not injured. for the first time, you notice the softness in his eyes and cheeks, and while his hand is holding you still, it isn't too tight as to hurt you. he's being.. gentle. which you haven't actually ever noticed from him. you take the time to look him over too, for the same reason. regular scratches and bruises, but nothing to be all too concerned about. his hair looks so soft, does he use taylor's hair supplies? it's very well taken care of. a thought pops into your head.

“oh, yeah, by the way, I got a-”

“there they areee,” aiden cheers, his smile lacing his voice. turning your head, you see ashlyn, logan, taylor and a mildly panicked looking ben running to the three of you. the green eyed girl runs up to you, her eyebrows high as she scans you the same way tyler did. “you okay?”

you nod a confirmation, and she deflates with relief before turning to aiden. “could you not? you freaked everyone out! you're lucky a phantom didn't find you on the way here!” her hands are squishing up her hair as she gives the blonde a blank stare, and then cringes. she looks nauseous for a second, and then looks toward the house. her hands now covering her ears.

“... unless… a phantom.. did, find you on your way here?”

“haha, no, that would be silly. it was already in the house-”

the gray creature darts around the corner, and a chorus of screams and shoes pounding the dirt as you guys start running as fast as possible, ashlyn leading the charge. your chests are heaving, you feel your mouth drying up and salivating all at ones, and your head is pounding with your heart.

looking beside you is your newfound party, you find that everyone has weapons that you didn't really notice before now. you feel the taddest bit useless if you're being totally honest. making a few random turns and quick corners that nearly trip you up, and would have if ben didn't catch you and pull you along in time. at this point, you're holding his hand to keep up. somehow, you all ended up in the forest beside the neighborhood. this was probably the fastest way to get to ashlyn's house, and clearly, she knows it well enough to guide everyone through. meanwhile, the phantom is slowed down by the terrain.

as the trees thin out to the other side of the neighborhood, your legs are beginning to hurt. however, you do see a giant gray wall now, the one that the bus always picks ashlyn up by. this must be the graveyard everyone was talking about.

“time?!”

“eight minutes!”

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

ashlyn skids to a stop inside of the wall, the phantom gaining on us by the second. tyler squeals slightly, before yelling to close the gate, his voice slurring with how quickly he spoke. with a loud thudding of everyone making it in, she slams her hand on the button as hard as humanly possible. the phantom does it's best to squeeze through the wall opening, but it shuts too quickly for it to come in. it starts hitting the wall, the structure echoing loud banging. ashlyn tenses, clenching her jaw as everyone stands in a outward facing circle, adrenaline still pumping through your arms.

“alright,” ashlyn says, dropping her hand a little and huffing. “let's head to the bus.”

“bus?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in confusion, looking around. there were… a lot of busses, actually. you thought this place was a graveyard?”

“oh, it's uh-”

“HAha. no one explained that. oops!” aiden cuts taylor off, giggling, in his own little world before turning to bother ashlyn. taylor side smiles at aiden, before turning back to you and continuing. “school bus graveyard. ash's family owns it,” she explains. there was probably more going on, but for the two of you, exhausted and filthy, it works well enough. a thumbs up from you later, taylor throws her arm around you. oh! friendship! that was fast. smiling at her, you return affection, throwing your arm around her shoulders too. she stinks, but you do too, so you have no moral high ground. what would you even say? ‘ugh, you just ran a mile here to there and back to save my life, disgusting. go shower’?????? no, that would be rude.

a yelp of surprise leaves you as aiden joins you guys, throwing his arm around taylor's other shoulder.

“you stink.”

“you do too.”

“I also stink. triplets!”

your trio laughs as you make your way to the empty school bus deemed hideout. a collective groan leaves everyone, sitting in seemingly designated spots. you shuffle awkwardly, looking around for a seat, before taking a seat behind tyler, beside logan, who smiles and waves at you before letting his head roll back onto the seat. tyler flops into his own seat, and you can hear his back pop as he groans and rubs his eyes.

“that sucked.”

“yeah, I agree.”

tyler tilts his head to look at you slightly, and you realize maybe he isn't actually perpetually angry, maybe he just has a resting bitch face. and also lacks sleep and proper communication skills. the way he again looks you over to make sure you're okay tells you he at least wouldn't leave you to the wolves in an instant.

ash leans over, and you frown as you hear her pop her foot. fair enough, but also ew.

“ah,” she starts, her head gently leaning on the seat in front of her. “the banging stopped.”

you didn't hear it after you guys had walked away, but also, ben told you about her having better hearing than the rest of you all. so that, of all things, wasn't too wild.

“it probably gave up, or-” tyler sighs, his eyes opening to look over to the freckle-faced girl. “- someth…” he's interrupted by ashlyn shooting to sit straight up. a second passes, and it looks like maybe she's just listening more intently than before, and then a shiver rolls up her spine and her shoulders tense. her eyes scan sideways, a nauseous feeling crawling up her ribs and into her throat. bus seat, window, bus seat, window.

fingers over the door frame, a dark skeletal looking head peering over.

your heart drops into your stomach, simultaneously jumping into the veins of your neck. everyone stands, almost synchronously backs up to cover each other. you find yourself in almost the very back, behind ben and logan. you glance at the twins, tyler slightly shielding taylor with his arm even though he's trembling.

the air stands perfectly still, nobody's lungs dare to move. it's like you're encased in stone. your shoulder blade throbs, and you wish you were some superhuman like the rest of them seemed to be. none of them were even seriously injured or anything, that could probably mostly be attributed to having five other people watching other people's backs at all times, and the medical supplies in the corner, but still.

no, you're no superhuman, but ash seems to be. she's the first to start trying to figure out what you guys can do. forcing her gritted teeth open, she hisses a question to you. “can we open the back door?”

“it's blocked!” you whisper, and your chest begins to hurt from how tight you're making your muscles. glancing to Logan, who's started crying in panic doesn't help much either. the own tears pricking at your eyes want to pull themselves down your cheeks, and your vision is fuzzy because of them. you decidedly rub them out of your face before they can be any worse.

“what do we do??” logan asks, his voice catching for a second, his fingers shaking and pulled up to his chest.

aiden replies nonchalantly, shrugging slightly and earning a loud thwack to the back of his head from tyler and an “aiden!” from taylor.

the floor creaked and the phantom makes a lunge for the party. you drop down, arms crossing to cover your face as your back meets the wall behind you, and a scream rips through the group.

beep, beep, beep.

your body lunges backward into your mattress, and you practically punch yourself in the jaw to cover yourself again. your forearms hurt and your legs feel sore. it takes a moment for you to really believe that you aren't in the bus anymore, your stomach heaving in your breathing. slowly, your arms start to come lay on your chest. slowly, your shoulders start to stop shaking so hard, and slowly, your breathing becomes deeper. you can feel trickles of tears, but you let them fall this time. you don't really have the energy at this point to scratch them away.

soreness tingles all along your body, your throat feels raw, and you don't really know why. you didn't scream all that much, did you? your phone pings, and you let the air rest for a second before even thinking of picking it up.

logan

everyone okay??

ashlyn

👍

aiden

lol that was close.

taylor

physically yes

tyler

mentally no.

you put your phone down, resting your head and grunting at the crack it gives.

you

yeah, aiden,

please don't die

aiden

lame.okay

ben

i think you gave

everyone a mini heart

attack when you said

that

aiden

everyone was

already having a heart

attack lmao.

you're looking for a gif or meme or random picture from your camera roll to respond with, when ben starts asking the important questions. no, actually, you hadn't done the homework. you had messed around with it for about an hour before bed, you were too nervous for finishing it and only answered a couple of the questions asked.

you “👎” the question before scrolling on a random app of your choosing, your eyes begging for sleep but your brain screaming to stay awake. the small twinkles of adrenaline from earlier aren't really in your system anymore, but you feel like they're crawling up in your arms. up your calves and up your neck. you keeping seeing things in the corner of your room, your mind making up eyes in the darkness. you don't want to keep your light on all night and run up the electrical bill, but it would certainly help if the places where the light from your phone doesn't reach quite as well would stop shifting. you feel.. watched. you're not, obviously, you know that. you know it's the part of your brain trying to keep you alive, but you're pretty sure sleeping is also part of staying alive.

you eventually turn onto your stomach, your palm pulling back the skin of your face and rubbing your eye. the small clock in the corner of your screen reads four something in the morning. after you stopped replying, the conversation eventually died out in the group chat, and even though you could see someone else was online, you didn't really want to bother any of them. luckily for you, you didn't have to.

taylor

hey, i forgot to check

up on you! u doin ok?

your eyebrow raises before you even process the message fully. why is she awake? of all people, you kinda got the feeling that she took care of herself more than the others in this scenario. then again, people who take care of others tend to neglect their own needs. maybe she didn't want to text anyone else, and texting you gave her an excuse to be awake?

you

im okay, you?

taylor

well, yk, as good as

we can be atp lol

hmm. you send her a random video because you have nothing else to talk about. she sends one back, and you spend the next hour sending them back and forth until you inevitably pass out. it's funny how much more comfortable you are when you aren't entirely lonely. that goes for both the phantom world and this one. it pulls you out, in a way. the way you have to flip-flop between normal life, and the terror that awaits you for seven minutes each night. the fact that the times don't line up still bothers you. it messes with your head, and your perception of time. how much passes and how quickly. you're not alone anymore, sure, but that doesn't lessen the effect of the situation any less.

except, maybe it does. maybe your body relaxing isn't just the natural melatonin, but the ever soft taste of safety. the satin touch of a cool breeze from your window before your mind drifts to a sea of unconscious landscape.

your alarm goes of an hour and a half later. lucky you, you no longer ever miss your alarm, and instead shoot up the second it goes off! yeah, the blood rush to your head and immediately grabbing the baseball bat you have near your bed before realizing what's going on isn't the best feeling in the world, but you're not late to school anymore, so that's a plus.

you don't really look at yourself in the mirror anymore, not while you brush your teeth and hair, not after you shower. a part of you cringes at the thought, even as you glance yourself over to make sure you're reasonably well prepared to head out. the eye bags you've developed don't compliment you as well as you would've hoped, and they contrast brightly against your skin going pale. there's a tired to your eyes that you can't seem to rub away, even as you fill your thermos with coffee before you jump on the bus. didn't help that you were honestly a little paranoid that you would see a monster in the mirror if you looked too long.

you sit down in the seat beside where ashlyn's seat is, sighing as you place your bag by your feet to make room for anyone else. your chin is in the palm of your hand, and you don't feel tired in the slightest. you will in about half an hour, when the fear factor that is waking up fades off, when you fingers stop tingling, and when your jaw stops clenching so hard. you take the moment to try and release some tension as ashlyn gets on the bus. she nods at you, looking you over before sitting down in the other seat. it's a habit you've noticed she picked up with the others, even though at the time you didn't know why. she would stand there for just an extra second, like she was checking them for stains. now, she did it for you, too.

this bus ride feels like it's taking forever, seriously. maybe everyone is just groggy this morning. isn't it odd, that you too would be groggy like the rest of them? normally, you'd be sitting with your friends, maybe even texting lunarmoon, your online friend. normally, you'd be up until early hours of the morning playing games, reading, doom scrolling, not because eyes would make themselves up to stalk you. laughing was now dry, hyperventilating now a more common pass time than giggling and memes, the dull pull of sleep more enticing, yet an aversion like never before overtakes that desire. the tips of your fingers are playing with the bracelets loosely dangling from your wrist. it's a blue one with a dice charm, one you got when you turned seven from an acquaintance at your party. it was the only thing your newly seven year old self didn't end up losing or destroying. now the question would be, would it remain?

a jab to your shoulder makes you jump, and you flash around to squint at a softly grinning aiden.

“hey, don't know if you heard me, do you need the homework?” he asked, twirling the pieces of paper in his fingers, and then they promptly fell apart and into your seat. you sat there and stared at them for a second, before laughing through your nose and picking them up. “yeah, I'll take them, if you don't mind.”

aiden gives you a thumbs up, ben beside him has his earbuds in and is looking out the window like you were doing a bit ago. he looks tired, but that's not new. everyone looks tired; but you've gotta admit, it's probably exhausting to keep an eye on aiden at all times. sometimes, only just sometimes, he makes you think of a class pet that has a habit of jumping off counters. you all look after each other, but ben has a tendency to be the older brother aiden seemingly needs. you're own older brother was off at college, but the two of you had never really been close. you can say the same for your younger sibling too. they never really interacted with you outside of the occasional conversation. it was honestly…really quiet at your house.

you pulled out your own earphones, opening your music app and sending ben a music party link, adding a couple songs to it yourself before turning to look at him. you can see the moment he hears the notification, even if you don't, and then checks his phone, tilts his head and looks up at you. you smile at him, wiggling your fingers in greeting, and he does an awkward little wave back, before pressing the link and joining, adding his own music.

regardless of whether or not your music tastes align, you enjoy hearing each other's pallet. it's refreshing to not pick all your own music, especially when the other person also has an excellent music taste. and the bus ride is all to short for you to really complain, anyway.

you're in class before you realize it, unlike your other… is friends the right word? coworkers at this point? peers? survival partners? you could probably consider yourself friends with taylor, at this point. everyone else was more an acquaintance. that being said, they did all risk their lives to save your own from living in the bathroom for the rest of eternity. that feels a little closer than acquaintances. maybe the right term is party members. like a dungeons and dragons party. yeah. you like that.

anyway, you're a lot more energized, and everyone else falls asleep within ten minutes of class starting. it takes you fifteen. now that everyone else is present, it's easier to feel slightly safer. even after the bell nearly has you tripping over yourself to wake up, and you could've sworn you felt breathing on your shoulder.

you can see everyone talking in the corner of your eye, but you walk over to ashlyn, who's packing up her seat. she makes eye contact with you, again, looking over you before she continues. she acknowledges you with a hum, and you stand there waiting for her to be done before speaking.

“hey, um, I just wanted to say thank you. again. for coming and getting me. i get the feeling you're kinda group leader, well, okay, everyone at least looks up to you like that. and I know it was dangerous to come get me, and you didn't have to, but I really appreciate it. i won't be a pain, I promise I'll figure out something I can do to help so that it wasn't all for n-”

“ash! oh, hey, you too!” aiden interrupts you in the middle of your rambling gratitude and sort of apology? you don't remember, you kinda lost your point when ashlyn started to go slightly wide eyed at the confrontation. he's standing with everyone else, and holding his backpack over his shoulder with that evergreen grin of his. “we're all eating lunch together. y'know… to talk about stuff. you coming?”

48 notes · View notes

layce2015 · 7 months

Text

The Boys (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

Chapter 2: The Only Man In The Sky

Chapter 1/ Next Chapter

"You sure you wanna go see her?" Bethany asked me after I called her on the phone the next day. "Not really but...it must be important if she's contacting me." I said. "I'm not sure if I like it." Bethany said and I giggled. "I'll be okay, Mom." I laughed, sarcastically. "Hey, I know you can handle yourself but...I still worry." Bethany said. "I appreciate it." I said as I pace along the living room.

*3rd Person POV*

M.M. hears a knocking at his door and he goes to answer it. He opens it and sees Butcher standing there, his hands behind his back, and he lets out a sigh. “All right, mate?” Butcher asked him and Janine, M.M.’s daughter comes up next to her father. “Bloody hell, Janine. You shot up. You remember your Uncle Billy, don't you?” He asked and the girl stares at him before nodding, slightly.

”Here. I got this for you.” Butcher said as he pulls out a box of a Lego set of Vought tower. “You and your dad can build it together. 523 pieces of family fun.” Butcher said and M.M. glares at him.

Later, Janine starts on working on the Lego set while Butcher and M.M. talk. “Okay, one, you don't just pop up here. You call first. And, two, eff Soldier Boy. I don't give a mothereffin' doo-doo how he checked out.” M.M. argued. “Ah, bollocks. He didn't die like no hero. I'll wager he went out on his knees, begging like a right cսոt.” Butcher said. “What the f...” M.M. grumbles then he exhales a she gesture to his daughter, who heard them. “Sorry, love.” Butcher tells her then he continues to talk, quietly.

”Look, if there's a weapon out there that killed Soldier Boy, then it can kill Homelander. And that's got to be worth something. Now, we're working our way through his old team. Frenchie and Kimiko are starting with the Crimson Countess, and I'm gonna hit up Gunpowder and Mystic Shade.” Butcher said. “Sounds like you got everything covered.” M.M. said. “This ain't just anyone. It's Soldier Boy. You could close the book on him once and for all. For your dad. Your family.” Butcher said.

”Fuck off with that shit.” M.M. growls then he starts to breath, heavily, before he continues. “My father died hunched over a desk, obsessing over a dead man, while he was ignoring his two living children. And I almost did the same thing to her.” M.M. said as he gestures to his daughter and Butcher looks over at her then back at his old friend.

”Thanks for coming by.” M.M. said and Butcher sighs. “You're doing a bang-up job with her, mate.” Butcher said and he goes to leave but then M.M. sighs. “Butcher, hold on a second. I might have one thing.” He said then he goes to his room and into his closet and pulls out a file that his father had on Soldier Boy.

Meanwhile, (y/n) and Bethany enter Voughtland and see all the kids running around, laughing and screaming, as their parents try to keep up with them or buy them the overpriced food and merchandise. “It’s crazy here.” Bethany said as her and (y/n), who was wearing jeans and a hoodie with the hood up, walk along the park. “Yeah, Vought has gone more chaotic with The Seven than they did with Payback.” (Y/n) mutters as they walk.

“You jealous?” Bethany asked her and (y/n) scoffs. “Fuck no.” She said and Bethany laughs as they go to the theater, where there was a poster that advertised the showing of Soldier Boy’s life. (Y/n) stops and stares at it as a memory pops up in her head.

Flashback

*(y/n)’s POV*

It had been months since Ben and I were sent overseas with the army to help out what we could. But we also did some film and photography for Vought as they brought a filmmaker and a photographer to get us to recreate certain moments of the war. And in between those moments or fights, Ben and I got to know each other a bit better. He was a bit cocky and full of himself and a bit rude but…he had this charm about him that I was attracted to.

And now the war was finally over and all the surviving troops were celebrating as was everyone around the world. Ben and I were sitting at the busy bar as the troops were cheering, laughing, singing and talking loudly as they all drink copious amount of beer.

I smiled at the scene, feeling relieved that this mess was all behind us. But I was also feeling dread as that meant I had to go back to my bastard of a husband. “You good?” Ben’s voice asked and I shake myself out of my thoughts and look over at him. “Yeah…just…” I laugh a bit softly. “Just still surprised that it is over.”

“You don’t sound very thrilled about it.” Ben points out. “No, I’m happy it’s over. I just…” I then trail off. “You don’t want to go back home?” Ben asked me and I sighed. “Is it that obvious?” I asked him. “Yeah…” he said and I turn my head to look at him. “You know, we’ve been getting to know each other these last few months and you still haven’t told me about…Adam, was it?” Ben asked and I sighed as I take another long sip of my beer.

”Well, I’m sure you know my backstory is a load of garbage. I wasn’t born with these powers…they were forced upon me.” I explained as Ben listens to me. “My darling husband…” I sneered before I continued. “…he faked a doctor’s appointment for me when really it was for me to get a shot of Compound V and get these powers.”

Ben’s eyes widen at this then it furrows in anger. “He what?” He asked me and I scoff out a small laugh at this. “Yeah, right ol’ bastard. I wanted to divorce him when I found out but…” I stopped then take another drink. “He basically told me I couldn’t do that, be it would ruin my career before it even began.” I added and Ben did look angry after I explained.

”That son of a bitch. I should go have a word with him when we get back.” Ben said and I place a hand on his arm. “No, don’t.” I plead to him. “Why?” He asked me. “I’ve seen what happens when you have a word with people. It would just make everything worse. Besides, I don’t want to put you in any trouble.” I said and Ben raise an eyebrow at me.

“Look, let’s just enjoy this night and not worry about my failing marriage.” I said and he gives me this look then sighs. “Fine.” He mutters as he takes a sip of his beer. The rest of the night went uneventful as we enjoyed the party until it was time to get ready to head back home.

But once we got home and saw the press just swarming the airport to mainly get to me and Ben, Ben did something I was not expecting. Once we got off the plane, we waved at the press as they took many pictures and the people from the news report came out to film us. Then Ben turns to me, takes my chin to make me look at him then kissed me right there in front of God and everyone.

I hear the crowd go absolutely crazy but I was too stunned and shocked at what just happened and what is happening. And the terrible thing is I didn’t want it to end, this was honestly the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. And even though there was a part of my mind that was screaming at me to tell Ben to stop, to push him away, I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

So, I kissed him back and I could tell that is what he wanted me to do as I feel his lips curl up into a smile as we continued to kiss. Moments later, we break the kiss and I felt breathless once his lips were away from mine and I raise my eyes to look at him and he gives me that damn flirty grin I’ve come to like so much.

”Maybe that’ll help with your little problem.” He mutters to me before he winks then turns to the crowd as he puts an arm around my shoulders and waves at them. I stood there and I’m sure I just looked mystified and confused because my mind was running for miles as I realized what he just did.

And I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“What the hell is this?!” Adam asked me as he holds up the paper the next morning. “What’s what?” I asked him. I was sitting at the table in the little kitchen area of my room at Vought Tower and Adam just came in after going out to get the paper. He slams the paper down on the table in front of me and the first thing I saw was a photo of me and Ben kissing. And the title reading: America’s Newest Sweethearts?

”How long?” Adam asked me, angrily. “How long what?” I asked him. “Don’t play dumb! Now, tell me the truth, how long have you been fucking him behind my back?!” Adam asked me and I stare at him, stunned. “Are you crazy?! I mean, is that what you actually think of me?!” I asked him then he slams his hands on the table again.

”I’ve seen the way you look at him! And I know you’re still angry with me for what I did but I never thought you’d go this low!” He yells. “Because I wouldn’t! That kiss was something Ben came up all on his own. I didn’t expect it!” I argued. “And yet, from what I heard, you didn’t reject it!” Adam shouted and I glared at him.

“It’s just a publicity stunt! To make the people go crazy, okay! It’s for the money, get over it!” I spat at him and he looks at me surprised. “Are you serious?” He asked me. “What? I thought this was what you wanted. Me being a Supe to make money for us. You know how Vought works. They’ll do anything to gain the public’s approval.” I sneered and he huffs at me.

Then he turns and starts to walk out. “Where the hell you going?” I asked him. “Out.” Adam growls as he slams the door and I scoff.

*3rd Person POV*

Ben was walking towards his room in Vought Tower, seething with anger. He had just been to see his father and showed off him being the hero. But he didn’t get the hero’s welcome he expected from his father. His father told him he wasn’t a real man, that he took a shortcut and told him he was a disappointment, probably one of the worst things a father could say to their child.

He heard a door slam but he ignored it as he makes it to the door of his room. He goes to unlock the door when he heard stomping footsteps then a voice calls out to him, in an angry tone. “You!” The voice said and Ben shuts his eyes for a moment, really not in the mood to deal with anyone.

”Look, Buddy…” Ben started to say as he looks over and sees it is Adam that is coming towards him. Adam then grabs him by the collar of his shirt then slams him up against the wall. “You son of a bitch! You think you can take her away from me!” Adam shouts at Ben. “I’m only gonna say this once, cocksucker. If you still want your teeth, then I suggest you let go and back away from me.” Ben threatens, in a low calm voice.

But Adam wasn’t having it. “What gives you the right to kiss (y/n) when you know she’s my wife?!” Adam asked him. “You could have any woman you want, but you go and kiss her! You can’t have (y/n), she’s mine!”

“You know what I think? I think a piece of shit like you doesn’t deserve a woman like (y/n)!” Ben growls as the sound of a door opening was heard. “And you do?!” Adam asked as hurried footsteps come up and Ben grabs Adam’s hands and shoves him towards the other side of the hall.

”Boys, stop!” (Y/n)’s voice shrieks as she gets in between the boys. Ben was about to walk towards Adam, who continued to glare at him, but (y/n) turns to Ben. “Ben, Ben, Ben….hey, hey, look at me…look at me…” she said as Ben death stared at Adam but then he looks over at (y/n).

For some weird reason, just looking at her calmed him down a little as she places her hands on his shoulder. “Ben? Since when were you two on a first name basis?” Adam asked (y/n), upset, and she turns to face him. “What does that matter? Just be grateful I’m not letting him beat you to a pulp right now!” She exclaims as she glares at her husband. The two stare at each other for a few silence moments before Adam sighs.

”You know what, (y/n)? You’re gonna get your wish.” Adam said then he walks off and (y/n) lets out a sigh before she turns to Ben, who is about to enter his room. “Ben, I am so sorry…” she started to say but Ben shakes his head. “I’m not trying to be an asshole but I really don’t want to talk right now, (y/n).” Ben grumbles and he enters his room and shuts the door.

(y/n) frowns at this as her heart felt broken then she makes her way back to her room. She shuts the door and started to burst into tears, letting out the emotions she didn’t know she was holding in. She wipes her eyes then looks over at the cabinet that held some bourbon.

She normally doesn’t drink a lot but the whole bottle of bourbon was sounding good right now. So she goes to the cabinet, grabs the bottle and begins to drink from it.

Present Day

(Y/n) continued to stare at the poster until Bethany comes up to her and places a hand on her arm. “(Y/n)?” She said and (y/n) pulls out of her thoughts and looks over at her friend. “You ready?” She asked and (y/n) sighs. “Not really…but let’s do it.” She said and they head inside the theater as does Frenchie and Kimiko.

They get inside and take a seat and Bethany pats her friend’s shoulder. “You sure you’re gonna be okay seeing this?” She asked (y/n). “I think so.” (Y/n) mutters, unsure. The lights start to dim and the screen comes on as it starts to play the film.

"Soldier Boy grew up in the birthplace of American liberty. Born poor on the mean streets of South Philadelphia, he learned the values of hard work, tenacity and bravery. He used those values to prove America's exceptionalism to the world." The narrator of the film said as it shows various pictures of Soldier Boy's life. Then it shows a clip of Soldier Boy in the trenches with the American soldiers.

"Okay, boys, let's give these Krauts some hell." Soldier Boy said and he leads the men on out into the battlefield. (Y/n) bites her lips as she remembers those days. "He and his partner, Mystic Shade, defended us against the encroaching Red Menace." The narrator said as it goes to another clip and shows Soldier Boy and (y/n) in the Congress, which takes (y/n) by surprise as she sees herself sitting next to Soldier Boy. "Congress, we have a list right here of avowed Communists." He said as he holds up a file.

"He helped guide America into a brighter future, and along the way, he found the love of a good woman..." the narrator said as it shows Soldier Boy and Mystic Shade, their arms around each other and a smile on their faces. (Y/n) lets out a heavy sigh and Bethany turns to her and places an arm around her. She gives her a concerned look but (y/n) nods, assuredly.

"...which made his sacrifice all the more noble, when he gave his life saving us from a nuclear holocaust." The narrator said as it shows a melted down nuclear power plant. Then the screen goes black. "Please join us in saluting Soldier Boy." The narrator said and there was scattered applause.

Then a spotlight comes on and the screen slides up to reveal Crimson Countess walk out onto the stage and begins to sing. “Fuckin’ hell.” (Y/n) grumbles, annoyed.

When the night was dark

And the dawn was cold

From sea to shining sea and mountains' majesty

He did it all For the red, white and the bold

'Cause he's America's son

As she sings, she brings her hands together and uses her power to shootout the red ball of energy she makes. It goes flying over head and the ball of energy explodes and engulfs the room in red light as Countess continues to sing.

A shining beacon of freedom

He's America's son

After the show, Countess was in her dressing room and was crushing up some pills as the door opens. "At your request, Countess." The voice of her manager said and Countess looks up at her mirror and sees the familiar face of her old partner. "Well, well, well, never thought I'd see you here, Misty." Countess said with a smile as (y/n) pulls back her hoodie.

"I mean, you're basically a recluse. Some people even think you're dead." Countess taunts as (y/n) glares at her. "What do you want, Crimson?" She asked as she folds her arms across her chest. Countess turns in her seat to look at her. "Can't I say hi to an old friend?" Countess asked. "You and I are nowhere near close enough to be considered friends." (Y/n) sneered and Countess gives a fake offended look.

"Oh, my dear, Misty...." Countess said, dramatically, and (y/n) rolled her eyes at this. She always hated it when Countess called her this name, it irritated her to no end which she figured that's why Countess does that. "Are you still mad that Ben and I dated?" Countess asked her. "I don't know...you mad that he dumped you to get back together with me?" (Y/n) asked, snarky, and Countess drops the act.

"No, actually. I really don't give a fuck." Countess said as she goes back to her table then starts to inhale some of the crushed up pills she made. "But I will say one good thing about him, he was great in the sack." Countess said and (y/n) rolls her eyes.

"Why the hell am I here, Countess?" (Y/n) asked and Countess turns to her. "Well, seems like that whole Girls Get It Done shit has been a big deal lately. And I figured maybe get us girls back together from the old team." Crimson said and (y/n) glares at her.

"You know, you, me and Tessa. We could show those bitches in The Seven who the real female heroes are." Crimson said and (y/n) shakes her head. "Not just no but fuck no!" (Y/n) said and Crimson was taken aback. "Well, why not? I mean, clearly you're not doing anything! Tessa and Thomas are apparently gonna host Herogasm here in a few days and of course I've had a music career." Crimson said. "And I like it that way. I got out of Payback for a reason, Countess!" (Y/n) shouts.

"Yeah because you were becoming a washed up Supe and Ben isn't around to fuck you senseless like the dirty whore you really are!" Crimson accused and (y/n) snaps as she waves her hand and Crimson goes flying back and hits the wall, hard. (Y/n) starts to breath heavily as she glares daggers at her old partner until she looks down at her hand, which was shaking.

"You can never even begin to THINK what I've been through the last forty years!" (Y/n) growls as she glares at Crimson, who gets up. "Oh boo-hoo, you're boyfriend died and now you live all alone in some farmhouse in Kansas. Get the fuck over yourself, Misty." Crimson sneers. "Fuck you!" (Y/n) spat and the two women continue to glare at each other before (y/n) turns and heads for the door.

"Go fuck a chimp, Crimson." (Y/n) spat and she slams the door behind her, puts her hood up and walks out of the room and down the hall, passing by Frenchie and Kimiko as they get ready for their visit with Crimson Countess.

After dusting herself off of the confrontation, Countess goes to sit by her dressing table and gathers up more pills and crushes them. "Next!" Countess shouts as she goes to snort up the crushed up drugs and exhales as the door opens, Kimiko and Frenchie enter her room. "You seem a little old for the Countess Tea Package." Countess said once she looks up and notices them. "We're young at heart." Frenchie said as Kimiko comes up to Countess and holds up her phone to show her what she typed.

I like your music

"Oh, sweetie. Can't you talk?" Countess asked Kimiko after she read her message. Kimiko shakes her head, shyly, and Countess smiles at her. "Would you like to hear something new?" She asked her and Kimiko nods. "Okay." Countess said and she leads Kimiko to her laptop to bring up a music video while Frenchie is looking around the room.

Chimps don't cry

No, chimps

Don't cry...

"You know that chimps are physically incapable of crying? But that doesn't mean they're not crying on the inside." Countess said, dramatically, and she goes to look at the video while Kimiko turns to Frenchie and begins to sign language to him.

She's nice.

She's nuts!

No, she's not.

Let's get it over with!

Fine.

Kimiko then turns to Countess and grabs her. "Wh-What are you..." Countess shouts when Kimiko slams her up against the wall. "Wh-What are you...Ow!" Countess screams as Kimiko hits her. "Don't let her hands touch!" Frenchie shouts and Kimiko separates Countess' hands. "Ow! Let go of me, you bitch." Countess shouts as Frenchie comes up next to her while Kimiko holds her up against the wall.

"No fireball if your hands don't touch, oui? You stay quiet and relax. She will hurt you." Frenchie tells her. "What do you want?" Countess asked him. "We want to know about Soldier Boy." Frenchie said. "What the fսck do you care about Soldier Boy?" Countess asked, confused. "We want the truth about Soldier Boy, not the merde you've been giving us in your appalling show. How did he die? Who killed him? Talk." Frenchie demands.

"The show is the truth, mοthеrfսckеr." Countess said as there was another knock and the door opens as a kid and her parents come in. "He died a hero." Countess tells them just as they hear the family coming in.

Seizing the opportunity, Countess knocks Kimiko off of her then runs out of the room. Frenchie and Kimiko then chase after her as she runs out of the building and out into the park.

Countess shoves people out of the way then turns around to see Frenchie and Kimiko still gaining up on her. She stops, brings her hands together and shoots her fireball at the duo but they duck and the fireball hits the man in the Homelander costume, making blood and guts explode everywhere.

People and children began to scream but with some of the people near the mascot were protected by a force field. Frenchie and Kimiko jumped back at this as kids and adults scream, cry and run as does Countess.

Frenchie turns around and sees the white hoodie woman again, her arms were stuck out in front of her. They share a look before the woman lowers her arms and runs the opposite direction and it suddenly clicked with him who she was. "Putain de merde! That was Mystic Shade!" Frenchie said as Kimiko looks in time to see the woman run then signs at him.

Should we go after her?

"Butcher said he was gonna deal with her." Frenchie said as he takes her arm and Kimiko looks around to see a few kids still looking frighten and distraught at the man in the Homelander mascot costume, or what was left of him, before she and Frenchie leave the park.

*(y/n)’s POV*

Bethany pulls up to my house as I sigh. “You okay?” She asked me, for what had to be the hundredth time. “Yes, I’m fine. Just…wasn’t expecting any of that.” I said. “It looked like she was attacking those two people. Did you see them?” Bethany asked me and I nod.

“But I don’t know why. That’s what’s bugging me.” I said as I think. “Well, I’ll talk to you later.” I said as I get out of her car. “Okay…” Bethany said as I shut her car door and head into my house.

I entered the house and give a sigh of relief before I head to the kitchen. “You have a lovely house.” A male voice, with a cockney accent, greets and I jumped a bit to see a man with black hair, a beard, jeans, black shirt and a long black leather jacket, sitting at my kitchen table.

”Who the hell are you?” I asked him, angrily. “Billy Butcher, love.” He introduces as he nods to me and I realized this is the man that Maeve told me she was working with on capturing out of control Supes. “I just thought I’d pop by and ask you a few questions.” Butcher asked me as I go over to my liquor cabinet and take out a bottle of whiskey.

”I thought I told Maeve that I didn’t want to be bothered.” I said with a growl as I grab a couple of glasses. “She did tell me that but…I thought different.” Butcher tells me and I glare over at him. “So, from what I understand, you and Soldier Boy were close, right?” Butcher asked me and I begin to pour a glass of whiskey. “Okay, to save you time, yes, Soldier Boy and I were a thing. We had been on and off through out the years. In hindsight, we kept breaking up because of just stupid petty stuff but he would always find a way to win me back. Anything else you want me to answer, re-read that file I gave to Maeve.” I tell him.

”Well, before I go, there’s something I want you to elaborate on.” He said and I sighed, realizing this man is not gonna leave, and I pick up the second glass. “Would you like a drink?” I asked him as I hold up the whiskey bottle. “Oh, how very courteous of you.” Butcher said, in a bit of a surprised tone.

”Just being a good host, even if you were a surprise guest.” I said as I pour him a drink. Then I pick up my glass and his glass and I walk over to the table and hand him his glass. “Thank you.” He said and he takes a sip.

”Maeve’s told me about your rivalry with Homelander and how you think all Supes are bad. But I will tell you this, Mr Butcher, not all of us are like Homelander. I know you don’t want to hear it but it’s the truth. All I want is to live a normal life and put that life behind me.” I said and Butcher rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. “I appreciate your honesty, but it’s the actions of many of those cunts against your word that makes it hard to believe you.” He replied.

”Believe whatever you want, Mr Butcher. As for me, all I want is to be left alone.” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey. “You know I visited your old teammate, Gunpowder.” Butcher said and I lowered my glass, glaring at him. “And let’s just say, things didn’t go well.” Butcher said and I feel my heart sink. “Did you kill him?” I asked him and he nods.

I gasped and closed my eyes as I turn my head away. “Not the response I expected…” Butcher said and I turned back to him. “He was a kid when he joined the team. Poor boy.” I said, sadly. “Huh? See, I heard you didn’t really like any of your teammates.” Butcher said. “Yes, some of them I didn’t get along with but Gunpowder was just an eager kid, trying to prove himself. I looked after him, made sure he didn’t fall down the same rabbit hole a lot of young Supes do.” I said.

“And yet, he put in a complaint about Soldier Boy’s abuse.” Butcher tells me. “I did the best I could with Soldier Boy. He would get in a few hits on Gunpowder but I always intervened if I saw he was about to go overboard.” I said as Butcher takes a swig at his drink.

”And did he ever abuse you?” He asked me. “No! He never did.” I replied, firmly. There was a long bit of silence between us before I go back to my drink. “Look, all I want to know is what happened to him? How did he die? Because I know that crap Vought pushed out is a load of bullocks.” Butcher said and I sighed.

”If I tell you what I know, will you leave me alone?” I asked him and Butcher stares at me then nods. “I don’t know what killed him. I was knocked out and when I came to, the others told me he was killed. We were in Nicaragua, '84, working with the CIA.” I said and Butcher furrowed his brow. “CIA?” He said, confused, and I nodded. “Who was the case officer?” Butcher asked me and I had to think. “Oh, fuck, what was her name….uh, Grace? Uh, Grace...Grace Mallory, that’s it!” I said, snapped my finger, and Butcher looked surprised by this.

”Judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing you know her?” I asked him. “Yes, yes, I do.” He said, determined, and he gets up from his chair. “Thank you for the drink and the talk. As promised, I will leave you be.” Butcher said and he leaves the kitchen then walks out the front door of my house.

I let out a sigh of relief and run my hands over my eyes. “What a fucking day.” I grumbled.

That night, I was cleaning up Ben’s old shield as I had the TV playing, which is broadcasting Homelander’s birthday. I didn’t really give a shit but I needed something playing in the background. “So let's give it up for Starlight and the man of the hour himself, Homelander!” A-Train said, who was wearing this colorful version of his old suit. I guess from the colors he is representing Africa; which from what Maeve told me about him, he is the last person to do something like this.

Music plays and cheers were heard as Starlight and Homelander go on stage as Homelander and A-Train shake hands then he leaves. “Wow, I'm so honored to be with you guys tonight to celebrate my dear friend and mentor Homelander. I'm here to do more than wish you a happy birthday, though. I'm thrilled to be announcing a project that is near and dear to my heart.” Starlight said and I snort as her saying Homelander is her mentor.

Yeah, I bet he is. I thought as I finished polishing the shield then look up at the TV. “The Starlight House is a nonprofit foundation dedicated to helping homeless and at-risk youth.” Starlight starts to explain until a voice shouts. “Hey, Homelander! Your Nazi died!”

”Well, damn.” I muttered as the crowd murmurs. “Homelander...He's just, he's a human. He's just like the rest of us. And we all make mistakes, right? But we all deserve second chances. In that spirit, Homelander has agreed to donate $10 million...” Starlight said then she laughs softly. “…to the Starlight House, which is, I mean...” she said and there was applause then Homelander says. “No.”

”Give...Come on. Give it up.” Starlight said as Homelander shakes his head. “No.” He said. “Give it up for this guy.” Starlight said as she was trying to control the situation but Homelander looked like he was done. “No. No. No.” Homelander said and the applause stops and the crowd goes quiet. “Starlight lied to you just now. She did. I don't make mistakes. I'm not just like the rest of you. I'm stronger. I'm smarter. I'm better. I am better. I'm not some weak-kneed fսcking crybaby that goes around fսcking apologizing all the time. And why the fսck would you want me to be?” Homelander said then he looks straight at the camera.

“Don't you dare stop rolling, Roger!” He shouts and I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This man is losing his mind. “All my life, people have tried to control me. My whole life. Rich people, powerful people have tried to muzzle me, cancel me, keep me impotent and obedient, like I'm a fսcking puppet. You know what? It worked. Because I allowed it to work. And guess what? If they can control me, then you can bet your ass they can control you. They already do. You just don't realize it.” Homelander said and I nod a bit as I was kinda agreeing with him there.

”I'm done. I am done apologizing. I am done being persecuted for my strength. You people should be thanking Christ that I am who and what I am, because you need me. You need me to save you. You do. I am the only one who possibly can. You're not the real heroes. I'm the real hero. I'm the real hero.” He said and the whole place stays silent and I shake my head. “And you lost me, crazy asshole.” I muttered and I shut my TV off.

@winchestergirl1720 @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @kitsun369 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @deangirl96 @demodemo909

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #fan fic writing #jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys #the boys tv #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #fan fic update #tv show fandom #tv shows #superhero

135 notes · View notes

birdiesaves · 6 months

Text

THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !

mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah.

i’m pretty much fucked.

they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.

i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.

what do you know? i’m in command.

it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do.

in your position i would have done the same thing.

it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.

everyone thinks i’m dead.

ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.

i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.

fear my botany powers!

but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.

i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.

i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________

bleh. i’m going to bed

my life depends on you

i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.

i have an idiotically dangerous plan

i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.

the answer is: i don’t know.

all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me

also, i have duct tape.

after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.

that was sarcasm, by the way.

this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.

do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?

how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals!

i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!

now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.

i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?

the whole world’s been rooting for you.

really looking forward to not dying.

please watch your language.

sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.

you're sort of a smart-ass.

your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.

no. you’ll fuck it up and die.

i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.

i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.

the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws.

named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.

i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.

your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.

why are you such a nerd?

you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.

you started my training by buying me a beer.

so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....

frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.

just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?

no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...

for now i just want to go home.

there's always hope

are we just watching a tragedy play out?

you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will.

i've defiled enough historical sites for now.

tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!

tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!

be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.

i remember when you were shy

the attitude comes with the job

and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”

there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.

what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?

how do you come up with this shit?

i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.

i need you to come back in and make a bomb.

i knew that guy was a mad scientist!

i think we should just go with my iron man idea.

well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander.

give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.

i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.

i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries.

they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.

yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do.

#space memes #space rp memes #rp starters #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay inbox prompts #roleplay meme #feel free to reblog and share!

56 notes · View notes

anipgarden · 1 year

Text

Tropical Milkweed, Its Problems, and What To Plant Instead

I am writing this to atone for the sins of my past (handing out tropical milkweed cuttings to my friends and teachers before I knew better).

(Also let me make this clear I am Floridian I am writing this from the perspective of someone in the United States if you live in Tropical Milkweed's native range this doesn't apply to you go forth pogchamp)

Look online, on TV, in books, in newspapers, left, right, up, down, anywhere, and you'll see people talking about how planting milkweed is crucial, essential for the survival of monarch butterflies. Milkweed is the only plant that monarch caterpillars can eat as they're growing, and the loss of it in our wild spaces is one of the most direct links to the ecological extinction speedrun of not just monarchs, but dozens of other insects who rely on its abundance of nectar-filled flowers to survive. You'll be urged to run, not walk, to your nearest garden center, buy as much milkweed as you can, and hurry fast to plant it in your gardens and be part of the solution, not the problem. The issue is that, oftentimes, the milkweed you leave the store with is a vibrant red and orange, with pointed green leaves, dozens like it lining the shelves across stores all over the nation...

Tropical milkweed. Scarlet milkweed. Bloodflower. Mexican butterfly weed. Asclepias curassavica. This plant is a being of many names, and our culprit of the hour.

'Culprit? Culprit of what?' Culprit of enticing people to buy it under the guise of helping, only to possibly cause more harm than good.

Let's discuss.

Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) is a gorgeous milkweed (especially the yellow variety? ooh, that had me in a grip as a teen) that's easy to obtain--too easy. It lines the shelves of stores like Walmart, Lowe's, Home Depot, and even hundreds and dozens of smaller garden stores, and is sold for reasonably cheap because its quick and easy to grow from seed and eagerly roots from cuttings. It's extremely popular with butterflies too--in many scenarios, Tropical Milkweed will be preferred as host plants over other related species like Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), and its also popular with other species of butterfly, bees, and wasps as a nectar source. It lasts well into winter in some areas of the United States, is quick to regrow when cut back, and doesn't die back for periods of the season like some other milkweeds do. It's eager to reseed, creating capsules with tens of dozens of seeds and scattering across the winds with the help of little silky parachutes much like the ones dandelions are known for.

'Ani, what's the problem with that? This all sounds like its great for monarchs!'

See, here's the kickers. In fact, here's several kickers. Here's an entire mollywhopping of kickers.

OE Infections

In the temperate areas that it doesn't die back over winter (or even, in some cases, where it doesn't die back during the season like other milkweeds), it can become a host for OE. OE is short for Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, and its a protozoan parasite that can and frequently does infect monarchs. As infected monarchs visit different plants--whether its to drink nectar, to lay eggs, or even just doing a fly-by of the garden--they drop spores from their wings that can then fall onto the leaves, flowers, and even any eggs already on the plant. As caterpillars hatch and begin to eat the plant, they ingest the protozoan, which begins the cycle anew. High OE levels in adult monarchs have been linked to lower migration success, reductions in body mass, lifespan, mating success, and flight ability. And that's if the caterpillars don't succumb prematurely to the infection, or if they're able to even exit their cocoon and fly once they finish pupating--deformed wings are frequently a result after infections. Now, OE is a parasite that's evolved alongside monarchs--and monarchs are usually able to handle an infection just fine, but if they're carrying a high load? That's where the problem lies.

What role does tropical milkweed play in this? Most milkweeds die back after blooming, at least once or even twice per season--and the parasite dies alongside them. As native milkweeds push out fresh foliage, its parasite-free, offering a healthy new buffet for caterpillars. Tropical milkweed... doesn't do that. If nothing's done, (at least in my state of Florida) tropical milkweed will stay fresh and green all the way up until the first real frost hits way in December--and that's if there's a hard frost, when you travel farther south. And during all that time, OE levels are building up on the leaves, so any future caterpillars that feed on this plant are doomed the instant their egg is laid on a leaf.

Its not that it's utterly impossible for a monarch to get infected with OE on any other kind of milkweed--monarchs are known for their traveling habits, and the chances of them happening upon a different milkweed plant than the tropical milkweed in your backyard is pretty high. But whereas native milkweeds die back and essentially reboot their system with fresh, disease-free leaves at least once a season, tropical milkweeds are like downloading a virus onto a USB and then passing it to your friends.

But that's not all, either. Time for kick 2.

Migration Interruption

Sit with me a moment and imagine you're a monarch butterfly. You're hardwired to know that as your food source starts dwindling at home, its time to get a move on and fly on down to the family's vacation home in Mexico for the winter. The buffets shut down, you exit stage left. But on your way to what's essentially a season-long smorgasbord with friends, you find... a buffet is still open. You're supposed to leave when the buffets are shutting down, but this one's up and running, lights are on, and plenty of people are there having fun, so you step in to relax. You'll take your trip later.

Now imagine a bit after you entered that buffet, the staff stuffed the guests into the walk-in freezer, locked the door, turned off all the lights, locked up the building, and left.

That's basically what tropical milkweed being 'evergreen' is doing to monarch butterflies in the fall and winter seasons. In areas up north where it can stay growing far later into the fall/winter months--or worse, in the south, where it can basically be evergreen until a hard frost (if one even happens), it can interrupt the monarchs' iconic migration cycle. They'll stay in place and continue breeding, living life like they aren't supposed to be a country away--until a frost hits, and they're dead in a snap. And if there's not a frost, you're getting a bunch of OE spore-ridden monarchs flying around a bunch of OE spore-ridden milkweed plants that the butterflies who followed the rules and overwintered in Mexico are gonna be returning to. POV you're starting a family in a house so laden with asbestos and black mold that there's practically black dust floating around.

This is already pretty bad. Can it get worse? Absolutely. Kick number 3.

It's Pretty Invasive (in the US)

It's fast growing, its eager to go to seed (so eager that it can flower and produce seed at the same time), its growing all throughout winter--which would be great, if it were native to the United States. Unfortunately, it isn't! As one could imply from the name, Mexican butterfly weed is native to--well--Mexico, as well as the Caribbean, South America, and Central America.

Further North into the states, and it's more of an annual--a plant that lasts maybe a year tops, dies back permanently, and you go buy more next year, or start from seed. Further south? It's a perennial, baby--which means its got even more time to spread its seeds and really thrive in the warmer climates of places like Florida, Texas, California, etc. Not to mention, as climate change makes temperatures rise, places where tropical milkweed is an annual may quickly begin seeing it stand strong all year...

I won't pretend to be a Professional Milkweed Identifier. I'm getting better at it with time, but I'm not a pro. But most of the time I go outside and I go 'oh, that's a milkweed!' its tropical milkweed. I've seen it grow in the sidewalk cracks of a gardening store I go to--its a clean four feet tall, always flowering, always making seeds. Tropical Milkweed is eager to escape the confines of your backyard, or make more plants in your backyard--I started with 5 plants one year, and the next year I had seven, then twelve, and that's just the ones that didn't get mowed over in the seedling stage...

But wait, that's not all! Kick number 4, baby!

Toxic to Monarchs????

According to the Xerces Foundation, emerging research suggests that tropical milkweed may become toxic to monarch caterpillars when exposed to the warmer temperatures associated with climate change.

'What the fuck, I thought milkweed was good for monarchs! How the hell does that happen?!'

All milkweeds produce cardenolides in their sap--a type of steroid that are toxic to most insects (and even people). Milkweeds create it to repel herbivores that would munch on it otherwise--except for milkweed butterflies (Danainae family), like our legendary monarch, as well as the queen and plain tiger butterfly. Larvae eat up milkweed leaves like there's no tomorrow, to stock up on those cardenolides and become toxic to their vertebrate predators--except for a few species that have evolved to become cardenolide-tolerant (black-backed orioles and black-headed grosbeaks). But, when cardenolide concentrations are high enough, it's too strong for even monarch butterflies to withstand--they die because of the very plant that's supposed to give them life. Kinda fucked up. Comparatively, many native species have lower cardenolide levels--and don't immediately go into flux at higher temps like tropical milkweed does.

'Wait, Ani, if there's all these problems with tropical milkweed, why is it sold everywhere?'

Capitalism. The answer is capitalism.

Well, actually, its a bit more complicated than that but it's also still capitalism.

The very same things that make tropical milkweed so invasive and such an issue are what make it so incredibly popular to sell. It's fast growing, and eagerly starts from cuttings as well as from seeds--which is perfect for growing tons of plants in quick and easy batches to send to vendors all over and get a quick profit. It's easy to grow from the home gardener too--its resistant to most diseases, looks gorgeous almost year-round, is quick to return in many areas without even the slightest sign of a die-back, and is popular with monarchs and other pollinators. Want to start a pollinator garden with quick results? Plant milkweed--and when tropical milkweed is all that you see available when you walk into your beloved store, it's what most people are going to get without thinking twice. Not to mention, when you hear it starts quick from cuttings, and you really wanna get your friends and loved ones into pollinator gardening, well... you get well-meaning people sharing invasive plants with their homies, like I did in high school. I've been pollinator gardening for around sixish-sevenish years (I think) and I didn't even catch wind that tropical milkweed was invasive until three years in! To say I was mortified doesn't describe it fully.

'Wait, three years ago? So information about this has been out awhile! Why aren't more places selling native milkweeds by now?! Why are people still buying this invasive milkweed and not native ones?!'

It's capitalism again! But in a different way.

Compared to tropical milkweed, many other milkweeds are a lot more... finnicky to get started, or grow in general. Many of them are a lot slower to germinate, are more prone to failing as seedlings and falling victim to things like 'dampening off' or 'too many aphid' or 'the vibes were wrong.' If they do germinate, they're slower to get to size too--I've grown tropical milkweed from seed in solo cups and gotten something about four inches tall within maybe a month and a half. Some other milkweeds I've grown from seed take about a month and a half to get more than four leaves, or even poke their little green heads out of the dirt. In addition to this, milkweeds have taproots--and some are a lot more friendly to the concept of 'transplanting from a pot to the ground' or 'growing in a pot at all' than others, and tropical milkweed ranks at the top of that list again. Not to mention, their willingness and ability to overwinter in pots--many native milkweeds fail that test, meaning that even if all the resources and efforts are put into getting a milkweed to grow from seed, it won't survive longer than a year in that pot. Considering most milkweeds don't flower until a year or so into their growth, and it's easier to sell plants that are flowering... many plants are a tough sell.

Another reason? Some native milkweeds are way more picky about when they want to make seed pods, or what conditions their seeds want to be grown in. If the seeds are hard to obtain? Good luck growing them in a production greenhouse. Let alone finding seeds for sale to grow them yourself at home--in my hunt for native milkweed species, I've seen packets of ten seeds sold for twenty bucks, packets of 25 seeds sold for anywhere from 50 to 100--meanwhile, you can find dozens if not hundreds of tropical milkweed seeds sold in a pack for maybe a dollar or five.

Let's be real. Producers haven't figured out the magic ticket to pumping out native milkweeds like they have with tropical milkweed--as such, finding native milkweeds for sale is rare, and they're often pricier. And as someone who's been to a native plant sale and found the stands sold out of milkweeds not even 30 minutes into the event--you are likely not the only person wanting native milkweeds. It is war out there in the garden parties.

And that's assuming you've actually found native milkweed for sale! As you get better with milkweed IDs, you'll be able to clearly identify the liars who are telling you they've got something that they don't, but for those who aren't In The Know--if you see a milkweed labeled like a native milkweed and want to buy native milkweed, it might be too late by the time you realize you just got sold tropical milkweed with a mislabel. Whether its on accident or on purpose, it still bites.

I've asked some of my favorite, smaller greenhouses if they'd be willing to start selling native milkweeds. Most of the time I get an exasperated 'I would love to.' But they can only sell what the vendors can produce--so if they can't find a vendor that's selling swamp milkweed (or at least reliably), then they can't give me swamp milkweed when I poke my head in asking if they have any in stock. Of all the times I've gone to dozens of different green houses and gardening events, in different cities even, to see if they have any native milkweeds I've only had success a few times--one small vendor who only has them in stock at events sometimes (and that's if I don't show up late), and the one time I rolled into a not-big-box-but-not-small gardening store near my friends house after being sad that I couldn't find it at a different gardening event. And the one I found there was the last one they had in stock for the next month or two. Until The Vendors get better at growing native milkweeds, your best bet is going to be growing it from seed yourself, getting a start from a friend, or dumb luck at smaller nurseries and events. It's rough out here, friends.

Granted! Keep in mind! That whole last paragraph was personal anecdotes. It's entirely possible that other places' greenhouses have already caught on, and I'm simply in the shadowlands where nobody's selling native milkweeds except for once or twice a year and selling out within 20 minutes of opening their damn booth. And I've heard tell of people getting milkweed popping up willingly in their backyards by doing things as simple as not mowing. I pray you have better luck than I do, young Padawan.

Now, keep in mind, there are people actively working on this. Whether its a team of university scientists dedicating themselves to a project, or a few home-growers in a sunny backyard and a greenhouse doing their damn best to grow native milkweeds as efficiently as possible for themselves and their friends, there are people working on this, sharing advice and communicating online. This isn't some unresolved issue that no one has noticed. We just... aren't at the end post yet. Until then, we scrounge for what we can.

'Oh no, oh god, I have a bunch of tropical milkweed plants in my garden!! Am I a bad person?!?!'

No You Are Not A Bad Person For Growing Tropical Milkweed

And I'm perfectly honest about that. Because I'm here telling you this and I've still got tropical milkweed plants in my backyard. As that one comic once said, about 10,000 people learn something new every day, and unfortunately today that 'new thing' is a bit sad and a bit untimely. In full honesty, oftentimes in my brain I refer to Tropical Milkweed as Starter Milkweed--its what a lot of pollinator gardeners end up starting with, because its just so available! But! There are things that you can do to mitigate the Damage that tropical milkweed can bring to your backyard butterflies.

Step One: Cut back your milkweeds! At least once a year, maybe even twice a year if you want. This will force them to put out new growth, which will be free of OE spores and give monarchs on it a good head start against the Disease. But for sure, for sure, cut your milkweeds back in the fall--once October hits, I go into the backyard and I snip down everything that's tropical milkweed. Usually at this point (at least for me), the milkweeds don't try to grow back again until spring. This is to prevent monarchs from seeing a buffet and getting locked in the freezer.

Step Two: Cut back seed pods! You would not believe how many seed pods milkweed makes. You see those little green footballs? You wanna snip these back ASAP. Even if they're tiny, but especially if they're bit. In peak flower production times, I'll go out there at least once a week and just do a look-back and cut them off. You can even yoink them off with your hands if you're in a rush--just don't get that sap into your eyes. If you do this, you're stopping seed production in its tracks--and don't forget, these plants want nothing more than to split those pods open and unleash a hellfire of flying seeds all over the place. They'll float on air, they'll float on water, they'll do whatever until they land on a prime patch of soil and get started.

If you see these you're a tinge too late. But also still yoink that off and Dispose of it.

Step 3: Don't give cuttings to your friends. It's tempting. If you're raising caterpillars in a little enclosure and see that every time you refresh your cuttings, the old ones have tons of roots and are ready for a little pot of soil and a name tag? Don't. Resist the best you can. Dispose of your cuttings whenever you go in for a trim.

Step 4: Consider replacing them with something else! I know I already went off about just how hard it was to find native milkweeds for sale, how expensive and difficult they can be to grow--but they're not impossible to grow, and putting in the effort could be worth it! Even as I speak, I'm trying to add as many native milkweeds to my garden as possible--and when I've got something that grows reliably in my backyard, I will eagerly rip up my aging tropical milkweed plants and promptly toss them in the bin so i can put a new, better milkweed in its place. Native milkweeds are more likely to be suited to your environment, making it easier to maintain and more welcoming to the pollinators we gardeners want to help. Not to mention, a lot of them are way pettier than tropical milkweed (in my opinion). Do some hunting online to see what's native to your area--your state's extensions office will likely be great for this! You've likely got great variety--the state of Florida has 21 native milkweeds! Who knows how many your state has! (Not me, I am Floridian, and I am already getting dizzy trying to learn about all 21 of our milkweeds).

Conclusion!

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not gonna be the one to discourage someone from starting a garden, especially a pollinator gardener, and especially growing milkweed. But avoid tropical milkweed when you can--the harms it can cause far outweigh the quick satisfaction of a busy garden it can bring. Take some time to select a native plant more suited to your area, give it some friends and some time, and soon you'll have an amazing pollinator garden that'll be teeming with life!

#milkweed #tropical milkweed #asclepias curassavica #asclepias #outdoor gardening #succulents #bloodflower #pollinator garden #pollinator gardening #monarch butterfly #ani rambles #out of queue #what was it three hours ago that I was declaring that I wasn't gonna write up a long research post again?#now here i am at 3:30 am ranting about milkweed with like a dozen sources #granted this is nowhere NEAR as long as the biodiversity saga was BUT STILL #i told myself i was gonna write today... i meant one of my novels NOT RANTING ABOUT MILKWEED #if this post blows up this is gonna go on my wall of 'posts that i thought of on the toilet that got way more popular than I expected'#there's not a lot of posts on that wall maybe 2 or 3 but its weird that its happened that many times already

254 notes · View notes