#She struggles to express many things but pure rage is just -locked-

[oculusxcaro]

Which rage language are you?

Men, raise the drawbridge

When you're angry, all your defenses go up. The unfortunate person or thing that managed to piss you off is suddenly talking to a wall. On the inside, you're screaming and crying and cussing them out, but somehow you can't express it. You're blank. emotionless. To anyone's knowledge, you could be zoning out of a lecture. Because of this, it's hard to express how you're feeling when the person asks for your thoughts. You've choked your feelings down, and they won't come back up.

Tagged by: @brokentoys (thank you wikia ♡) Tagging: Whoever would like to do it?

[fairyoftbz]

maternal weariness | l. sangyeon

🐣 pairing: neighbour!sangyeon x single mother!reader 🐣 word count: 2.7k 🐣 genre: fluff, slight angst, a bit domestic, cliché AF 🐣 tw: none? 🐣 synopsis: your daughter is suffering from her growing teeth and you're about to lose your mind, but you have enough self-control to do something before bursting. 🐣 a/n: i am so domestic for that man it was almost impossible for me not to write something else for sangyeon + kids. 🐣 requested: no!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

A headache started immersing itself into your skull, hitting all your nerves at once to the point of having you totter for a few seconds. Once you finally got a grip on yourself, you decided to take your crying baby in your arms in order to desperately calm her down. You closed your eyes as you rocked her, feeling frustration, exhaustion and annoyance bubbling inside your entire body. This torrent of emotions crashing into you didn’t help with your headache, only to have it spreading at the back of your neck to your shoulders. Sitting down inside your rock chair, the cries of your small daughter didn’t subside, you almost had the feeling that they increased.

“Shht baby, I know it hurts, calm down love,” you said as you stroked her cheek with your thumb, tears gathered in your eyes as you felt helpless. It was wonderful to have a baby, you had never felt this happy in life, but it was a whole other responsibility. There were many ups and downs, but never once have you regretted giving birth to your beautiful daughter.

Today, you were more on the downside of the life of a mother. Despite all the efforts and pieces of advice you received from books or other mothers, your daughter seemed to not be ready to sleep through the night yet, forcing you to stay awake until dawn, only getting dozens of minutes of rest each night. Bringing up a child on your own was not impossible, but it was certain that it was hard. Hearing your friends that had husbands or partners willingly taking the reins so they could rest had you envious, and somewhat feeling guilty.

The baby daddy was never there, only supporting from afar through small amounts of money. At the beginning of your motherhood, you hated it but almost begged him to come and help you, but he always claimed that he had better things to do and that you should already be grateful that he was willing to financially support you two.

What kind of father did you give your daughter? Where did the gentleman and the caring boyfriend from a few years ago go? Who decided to replace him with a rich asshole that only cared about his appearance and his own health?

The tears threatened to fall as you thought of all this while rocking your daughter back and forth, the side of her cheek against your chest as she kept on yelling in pain. It hurt to see her in this state, you wished you could take the pain away from her, but sadly, you had to assist her in her teething process as best as you could, which meant only cradling her and kissing her.

However, your daughter seemed to have another sense, a sixth one if we could call it that way, and she knew when you were stressed or angry, two emotions that were currently pulsating in your veins and controlling your entire being. You wanted to scream and cry just like her, but you resisted the temptation, you had to stay strong for your daughter. The process was hard you two, but one of you was about to burst and lose her mind. Your breathing pattern picked up, became irregular, the crying of your baby only increasing.

Clutching your teeth, the tears finally spurted out of your eyes violently, uncontrollably cascading down your face onto your daughter’s pyjamas. While a tidal wave of emotions burst into your mind, you remembered one thing many mothers, as well as your own once told you: Never. Ever. Shake your baby out of pure rage or despair. No matter how exhausted or frustrated you are, pass it onto someone else before calming down.

And that’s exactly what you did. Putting on your slippers, you crossed the threshold of your apartment to appear into the corridor, the cold air only increased your daughter’s cries, probably disturbing the entire building. Violently crying and struggling to catch your breath back, you weakly crashed your fist onto your neighbour’s front door, desperately hoping that they were here.

It was getting suffocating, and you felt like fainting, but you were trying to get a grip on your emotions for your daughter. As you were about to go back to your apartment filled with utter defeat, the door opened on your neighbour, a confused look written on his face as you sighed in relief.

Sangyeon was a young man you had met on your first day moving inside your current apartment. He was kind enough to help you get some boxes inside the elevator while you maintained the metallic doors opened, helping you even more as he saw that you were his new neighbour. He looked really happy to help, relieving you of this stress as you were exhausted from the irregular sleeping schedules of being a mother.

He had let you come inside his apartment once when you had accidentally locked yourself out with your daughter as you were going on a walk to try and lull her to sleep. You felt like you had the angels on your side because he knew an old friend from an ex-co-worker that was a locksmith. He offered him a great tip, so he came within the next hour, allowing you to unlock your door and get back to your apartment safely. The next day, you walked up to his door and offered him a bottle of wine and some baked goods as a way of thanking him, and you could tell that he was touched by your gesture.

Back to the present, Sangyeon took in your messy state, concern filling his eyes as your tears never seemed to stop.

“I am so sorry to disturb you, but my daughter’s been crying for hours now and she doesn’t want to stop, and I don’t know what to do and-“ you tried to say in one breath, but your neighbour stopped you by placing a hand on your shoulder, exhaling deeply as you were lost and confused.

“Please breathe Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. Tell me what’s happening,” he said, his voice clear-cut and composed despite the disturbing screeches of your daughter.

“Her teeth are coming out and she’s in so much pain I don’t know what to do, it keeps me up all night and… and I don’t feel like being capable anymore,” you said as you kept on crying, your neighbour nodding at every word you said.

“Let’s not stay in the corridor. Can I come in your apartment?” he carefully said as he quickly grabbed his keys and locked his door, accompanying you towards yours.

“Yes, yes, of course,” your daughter couldn’t stop yelling and crying, the volume never decreased, only getting rid of the echo thanks to the smaller walls of your apartment.

Your neighbour took his shoes off and placed his keys next to yours, eyes quickly wandering around the apartment: there was no sign of a partner’s presence. He made a mental note of it and strode to the living room, your apartment layout being the same as his, just a tad bit smaller. You sat on the sofa with your crying daughter, eyes still glistening with tears as you couldn’t hold them back.

“Pass me your daughter,” he said as he extended his hands, only for you to stand up and began to guide him on how to take your daughter, but he seemed pretty comfortable without your explanation.

“My sister is a mother too, I got a bit of practice beforehand,” he explained with a reassuring smile, and you nodded, thankful that he filled in the silence, satisfied with the small nods and exhausted smiles you were giving him.

He soothingly rubbed your daughter’s back, gently resting her head on his shoulder as he strolled around the living room. You sighed as you let your temple rest on the backrest of the sofa, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts invading your mind.

“May I ask for her name again?” he asked, and you sniffled, wiping your tears with your top sleeve. “It’s Haerin,” you answered with a tired expression, the man nodding at your words with a reassuring smile. “I wish we could have met again in other circumstances, but babies are a priority,” he said as your daughter’s cries were slowly decreasing, feeling already a bit better as he seemed to be able to magically soothe her.

“I’m so sorry. I needed to give her to someone for a moment, I feel like exploding,” you explained with an apologetic look on your face, but Sangyeon just shook his head, his reassuring smile never leaving his face.

“Don’t apologise for this, you did what was best for you and your daughter,” you felt better at his words, the encouragement you were desperately craving from someone finally reaching your ears.

At the mere thought of not having someone by your side to raise your daughter, loneliness and guilt hit you like a tidal wave, eyes filling up with tears again, and Sangyeon sadly looked at you.

“Thank you. It’s just that… I don’t have someone in my life right now and I barely talk to my friends and family because of my job and my daughter, so hearing some reassurance just makes me feel slightly better,” you said and Sangyeon smiled, walking to the couch as your daughter was now magically asleep in his arms, reddened cheeks due to her cries and the pain of her appearing teeth.

“Y/N, I am sure you are being an amazing mother. It’s not innate to take care of a newborn, it requires a lot of effort, strength, and sacrifices. Of course, it is easier to have someone by your side because they can help around the house, feed your daughter, bathe her, and take care of you and her while you rest. Nevertheless, it’s not impossible to do that alone, and you are even stronger when you cope with everything on your own.” Sangyeon mumbles, gently caressing your daughter's back.

“Don’t you think you are doing a bit too much?” you asked, a bit embarrassed to be praised like that by your neighbour, but you also asked for it. You truly didn’t know what to say, and timidly looked away as Sangyeon didn’t seem to stop.

“No, I don’t think so. Not only do you take care of her, but you also do all the chores, go to work, grocery shopping, do all the administrative work, you are a wonder woman! So with all the physical and mental charges you go through every single day, it’s normal to want to break down at some point. And you did what’s best, give your daughter to someone before you burst. It was a good reflex. Even if it’s hard, you are doing great Y/N, never forget that,” he said with your sleeping daughter in his arms, her tiny fists clutching onto the fabric of his black t-shirt. Tears were streaming down your face as you managed to smile at his words, feeling some strength reappearing in your system at the end of his praising monologue. “Thank you. You don’t realise how much I needed that,” you said in a weak voice, only to have Sangyeon smiling down at you.

“It’s completely normal. You can always come and ask for help with your daughter, or anything else. I’d gladly praise you for being a single mother all over again,” you managed to chuckle at his words, looking down to the floor as you felt his eyes never leaving you.

Looking at your daughter, you felt some maternal inner peace coming back as she was now resting, looking quite peaceful. She looked so safe in his strong, muscular arms, you were almost envying her for being in someone’s embrace.

Sangyeon exuded financial and mental stability, you were glad you rang at his door and not some crazy people. He looked so comfortable on your couch, almost as if he lived there. Well, maybe he felt so comfy because the configuration of his apartment was just like yours, but something felt different. Seeing him sitting on your couch with your daughter in his hold felt… natural, almost normal.

You shook your head as you tried to get rid of those thoughts, feeling suddenly embarrassed to fantasise so easily about him. You held back a smile by clutching your jaw, putting your thoughts down on the fact that you were exhausted and slowly going crazy with managing everything in your life.

“Where is your daughter’s crib?” he whispered and you slowly stood up, waiting a few seconds as dizziness took over your brain, your neighbour holding your forearm with his free hand.

“Follow me,” you tiptoed to her purple bedroom, Sangyeon smiling as he looked at the pretty decoration. He handed your daughter back to you to get her ready for bed, admiring the walls to give you two some privacy. Once you placed her down and neared her stuffed toy, you turned the baby phone on and switched off the light, Sangyeon inviting you to leave the bedroom first before closing the door.

“Thank you so much for your help,” you whispered, and he shook his head, a friendly hand landing on your shoulder.

“You can ring at my door at any time, I’ll try my best to help you,” he said with a reassuring tone. You felt like he was slipping away from you, and before you could do anything, your mouth spoke faster than your brain.

“Can I maybe cook you dinner to thank you?” his eyes widened for a quick second. “It’s really nice of you Y/N, but you are exhausted, you should rest.” “I insist, I think I can do it,” you cursed at yourself for sounding this helpless, watching him ponder your offer before sighing. “Only if you let me help you, then,” he said and you nodded, getting into work in silence as not to wake up your daughter.

With a warm dinner now digesting in your stomach, you both sat down on your couch, unintentionally sitting close to the other as you were exhausted. Closing your eyes for a second, you felt like you had been hit at the back of your head, your tiredness being easily readable on your face.

Drawn features, pale skin, dark circles falling to the middle of your cheek, you looked extremely scary, almost sick. But at least your daughter was healthy, and that’s what mattered the most to you as a mother. Sangyeon started chatting with you about some things, but you were too tired to keep up with what he was talking about.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you mumbled as silence filled in the room, Sangyeon looking at you before letting a smile emerging on his face.

“It’s okay, it was just chattering anyway,” he said and you swallowed down the lump of guilt on your throat, heavily sighing as your whole entire body was screaming and begging you to go to sleep.

The man next to you noticed your drowsy state and exhaled as well. Your head kept falling downwards, only to immediately raise it back up and blink a few times. Without even noticing it, Sangyeon sat closer, and his hand raised to your cheek, cradling it as he gently pushed your head to the side. Your other cheek landed on his shoulder and you frowned, trying to move away as his hand didn’t leave your face.

“Rest Y/N,” he whispered, and you weakly smiled, now realising how your daughter fell asleep in a few minutes in his arms.

Only by resting on his shoulder, you could feel your body grow heavier and more comfortable. His body warmth mixed with his laundry scent and cologne were a surprisingly good mixture to lull you to sleep. Your eyes grew heavier, and you finally gave up, shutting them before falling asleep within the following seconds.

Sangyeon chuckled at your state, gently pushing you away to unfold his arm and wrap it around you, resting your head against his chest. His thumb rubbed in circular motions on your upper arm, sitting comfortably on your couch as you slept against him.

He threw a few glances towards you and you were heavily sleeping, smiling to himself as you unconsciously wrapped your arm around his middle. Maybe he was meant to enter your life and to be honest, he wasn’t willing to leave anytime soon.

[leamy-world]

Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 11-12)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well this week!

Here we go! Again i’m really sorry for the english & my personal interpretations which might go a little bit overboard (❁´ω`❁)

THIS GOT VERYYYYYYYYYY LONG PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!!!!

tldr: i am in shambles haha

Have a nice week and take care! ♥

- Huckleberryfinn’s new OST, The Nights, was released this saturday and it’s truly a gem! The guitar/bass’s place in BOTH OSTs they composed is awesome. The lyrics destroyed me haha (i’ll shortly talk about it below!). The soundtrack during these two episodes was awesome btw ;;

- Sun-Ah’s visit to the mansion felt nostalgic and shattering at the same time, she sees she doesn’t belong in this house but still indulges a little in this illusion, « wanting to fall for his trick even just for a little while ». Her expression made me feel for her for a little while too ;; 

This shot above is funny because the bokeh effect (✨ the little sparkles ✨) is used in the background every time but this time it plays in front of Sun-Ah’s view: she sees in Yohan and his mansion a « shining » thing she desired for a long time. The bokeh here served also as a transition to the flashback right after.

Well, it could just be the streetlights’ reflections on the car and me reaching but there are so many symbolic visual shots in this show already i just couldn’t dismiss it in my brain haha

I liked Sun-Ah’s depiction of her choice to go against Yohan: she drops the necklace (symbolizing Yohan, this scene followed by Yohan’s cross-like scar) and not herself, like she did in the past for/because of Yohan when she was a maid + Yohan’s reflection disappears, Sun-Ah only focusing on herself: the ‘us’ she wanted for some time disappeared. And this event makes Sun-Ah’s rage on K more upsetting than it already is, but maybe i’m reaching haha

This scene also shows Yohan and Sun-Ah want two different directions to their relationship: to use her and to have him reach the top by her side respectively. They both look at the mirror, but their focus is different and they’re set in different plans on the shots.

In My Mister, (SPOILERS) the wife has a serious affair with her husband’s superior, but throughout the drama, they have divergent opinions on their affair’s developments: the wife wanted to leave her husband and settle with her lover, while the latter didn’t think any of it and, among other plot reasons, only wanted her because married women are the ‘safest choice (ending the relationship while she still loves him would be more troublesome) and always kept the affair secret’. 

This was particularly symbolized by their song preferences, but also by this shot in the beginning of the series: after the wife shared her hopes about their relationship (and her lover staying most of the time silent), they both look to the distance (their affair’s metaphorical future) but their eyes almost never look in the same direction.

- « I did it because i need you (by my side?) », Sun-Ah and Gaon’s parallels:

"[To Gaon on ep. 8] I wanted you to be by my side.”

“[To Gaon on ep. 5] I don’t need you to understand, but you need to make a decision. Will you stand in my way … or stand on my side?”

"[To Gaon] If i needed to, i would’ve done something even worse. Whether it was switching him or something else.”

- When Elijah and Gaon play jenga, Yohan might have let the door to his bedroom open (even after leaving them the first time) to continue hearing them have fun in the living room. It parallels to the scene in ep. 5 where he watches them play in the garden with Kkomi through the little gap of his curtains: what piques his curiosity first is the playful conversation he hears from his bed even from the closed windows. The flashback explains it all and i’m glad Gaon insisted to have him play with them despite the front he tried to put on, Elijah’s and Yohan’s expressions in this scene ended me ;;

Look how quick he turned his attention to Gaon, as if he waited for something to happen, to get to play with them!! His eyes lit up in an instant i can’t with this —

I loved how Yohan delayed his defeat to Elijah by asking Gaon questions about the game hahah

Elijah and Yohan’s relationship growth here reminds me of 2 parallels i didn’t catch the first time (but the desperation i felt when Gaon left because everything could grow cold again between Elijah and Yohan):

“That’s everything i think about”:

Elijah getting in & out of the car (ep. 6-9):

- And Gaon’s « Once everything is over, i’ll definitely … » — you’ll definitely what, please tell the audienceeeeeeee ;;;; this screams a death flag for Soohyun (or was it just foreshadowing their confrontation in ep. 12? idek anymore haha), but let’s hope it’s not!!

- After CKH’s suicide: we can’t expect people to make perfect choices every time they are challenged, and i think this story shows it well: Soohyun when she was with Elijah, and now Gaon carelessly touching the minister’s body for the files. As judges, they could have searched the body and the room using a fabric to hide their presence. But they’re both shocked: Yohan looks dumbfounded, standing and watching (even though he’s quicker to react when he sees Soohyun and he puts on a composure at the house saying it was ‘nothing’, he looked very sour when Sun-Ah called him to rejoice in her death) and Gaon panic-stricken. The fact he might have relived his parents’ suicide when he discovered the Minister’s body … And in the worst way possible (in a daze, searching her dead body for her files and realizing he didn’t give the body minimum respect) … oof

At least Yohan could have thought about it since the story shows how prepared he is in his plans, but this scene shows even him is at a loss at what to do. After all, the minister was the way he targeted to bring everyone linked to the foundation down. They were so close, i think he was too convinced her « self-pity » would mean her survival despite everything (« Do you have any other options? ») to see what was coming. After all, when they last met, he saw she was about to shoot him. 

Sun-Ah was the only one he thought was ‘unpredictable’. When Gaon talked to CKH, he let him speak and approved his speech, surely thinking everything went along his plans and the minister would surrender. And i think that’s also why he gives Gaon all this speech, to reassure himself and them, since they work now as a team. 

- Ep. 9 foreshadowing ep. 11 and 12 (Soohyun facing Yohan and Gaon). It’s interesting how the two shots from ep. 9 seem to put on the same plan the three characters, as if Yohan is literally standing between Soohyun and Gaon, as if he was the one protecting/separating him from Soohyun. This is very telling of the whole dynamic between those three.

- When the minister said she didn’t want to clear her name regarding her son in the live but still does so anyway, this is pure preterition haha! It’s also why she reminds the public opinion the first case Yohan handled!

- Cha Kyung Hee’s demise (ep. 11-4 parallels):

(+ a cinematographic reference to the 2000 movie Malèna, which was recently used in Hwasa’s MV for the song Maria)

- The scene right after where Soohyun wipes Gaon’s involvement to the suicide was moving in regards to her character, we get to see how torn she is by this situation + when she faces off Yohan in the parking (and the ‘let go’ could also have referred to Gaon) … i felt bad for her!

- About Soohyun & the professor: I find interesting the way the professor and Soohyun shelter Gaon’s existence was clearly shown with these two episodes and through their rage. At the beginning of the drama, their hold on his life’s values and choices was almost impalpable but not anymore, now that they’re facing Yohan’s threat.

In these shots, Soohyun looks like she is covering Gaon’s ear, turning him away and protecting him from outside (from the pain, Yohan, the rest of the world).

And on professor Min’s part, it’s almost infantilizing, de-responsibilizing Gaon to say the least (« What are you making Gaon do? That child has been through so much. He suffered and struggled through the worst to get there. »), given he’s the one who planted him on the court’s bench to find what’s happening behind the scene: he could have asked Gaon for explanations (as Yohan underlined, « Did you hear it from Gaon himself? ») but he just snaps at him. He should have foreseen that he could’ve taken Yohan’s side. 

For his defense, his family just got targeted but still, it’s the first time Gaon came back since then!

(By the way, that whole conversation with professor Min confirmed to Yohan Gaon didn’t admit to their plan to Soohyun nor the professor)

As for Soohyun, her deep concern for Gaon makes her antagonize Yohan and, in her POV, it’s pretty understandable: her friend got locked up in this judge’s house for days with no phone or permission to go out + said judge seems to not let her niece go out with her new friends, got violent against Gaon + he seems to be plotting something behind the trials he biased + Gaon’s description of the man in the first episodes wasn’t that nice but DESPITE IT ALL her friend still seems to be empathizing with him? 

She’s maybe thinking he got manipulated by Yohan given the evil picture he depicted her & must feel helpless in front of Gaon’s sudden change of heart. I think that’s what she wanted to ask him when she got cut by the professor’s arrival. The lack of honest conversation between them is what’s making it worse: on one hand, Gaon goes to her every time he feels sad or confused to get comfort & advice without telling what truly is going on (or eventually telling her when she insists), on the other hand, Soohyun always tells him to give up his investigation on Yohan and never asks him his point of view to understand the situation. 

And she discovered he lied about him not being involved with this man in the worst way possible, finding him by CKH’s body with Yohan. He was her reason to dedicate her life to protect people under the law (he does not owe her anything in no way, but it was her wish), and she ended up dirtying her hands for him. Her gut reaction to her moral principles being violated by both Gaon and her right now is stronger than wanting to hear the truth from Gaon. She continues to investigate Yohan on her own, to protect him. It was interesting to see this sententious side when she confronted Gaon after all this! The only time Soohyun saw him cry and didn’t support him, it hits hard ;;

But i believe the whole crisis that’s happening by the end of ep. 12 will make them team up again at least for a while. And on that note, will she meet Sun-Ah? It would be interesting!

I’m glad the professor raised as a concern on the live trials the due process & fair trial, which are essential for the rule of law to prosper.   

In fact, the live trials slowly become a place of majoritarianism/ochlocracy/mob rule as the cases progress (the two best examples being the actor and Juk Chang cases), the protests against professor Min are another example. Even if Yohan has the last word on the defendant’s sentence, this issue is still there. 

Maybe the viewers’ voice will turn against Yohan one day?

- The minister … Even though the story showed us how cruel her family could be, i can’t help but feel sympathy for her son with her suicide. And that is accentuated by the fact her family’s grief is not even showed, covered by the mediatic chaos. She could have fled the country as her son suggested, but she thought she was « nothing » without her accomplishments and her path to glory. As the former president of the foundation killed by Sun-Ah’s hands, she died in her office as the Minister of Justice, while her image wasn’t torn to shreds yet. The photograph she held showed her at the center and, ironically, it’s the only figure from the photo who is clear-cut, her husband and her son are out of focus (or it could just be the episode’s image quality misleading me haha). Even though she loved them (well, at least in her manner, which was kind of narcissistic tbh), she cared too much for her success and her death was her act of self-pity.   

- This isn’t the first time Gaon was warned about Yohan and i find it interesting it’s the people closest to him that say that, especially K despite (or precisely because?) his loyalty to him. Elijah also warned him before.

- The whole argument … It’s a progression of ep. 5 & 8 scenes (’will you stand in my way or stand on my side?’ & ‘i wanted you by my side and if i needed to, i would’ve done something worse’). You can tell how desperate Yohan was when he reached out to Gaon. His gaze faltered, showing his hesitation to do it, but as the realization he was going to lose him dawned on him, this touch became a necessity in front of the exigency, making up for everything he couldn’t say out loud. It was a sad & hurtful mess. Yohan truly looked short on ‘arguments’ after Gaon’s question (‘what kind of monster am i turning into?’), he seemed to not even know what to say to make him stay, making him pause before talking about Soohyun. 

The way his eyes lit up, almost smiling, full of hope, when he finished laying his ultimatum and how he regained a composed expression, thinking Gaon would take his side maybe?

I didn’t catch it on the first time, but Gaon’s sadness to end/put a hold on their collaboration (thus their whole relationship, stepping out of his life) transpired through him weakly rejecting Yohan’s hand with his own hand sliding down the latter's arm, as if he was unwilling to let this life with the Kangs go. You can see it’s hard on him to leave with the tears in his eyes. 

I think Gaon’s response outran his thoughts, as a quick riposte, it was to make Yohan stop this. The way things went (well, it escalated QUICKLY), hurting him like that was the only effective way, and he knows it will hurt him: before saying Soohyun is his world, he tears up because of that (in addition to everything Yohan said and it was A LOT), and didn’t even have the strength/will to get angry like all the previous times: 

the fact Yohan laid this very ultimatum and wanted to persuade/manipulate him into thinking this was the only choice. Even if he knew Yohan would be capable of doing this since ep. 7-8 (”To achieve his goal, would he not use another man’s pain? If the devil really did exist among us.”), he got a confirmation and it still hurts.

+ the fact he knows he has to hurt him with something as much as hurtful before he takes it too far.

+ the fact he knows he can’t live in this house any longer because of this argument when he made all these memories with them.

And (let’s hope for it) if Gaon wants to show Yohan there’s another way out of this ultimatum, Gaon’s « Soohyun is my world » might be a counter ultimatum (‘to stay by your side, you’ll have to deal with my world because there must be another way, there is no question, or else you’ll have to deal on your own’). He’s still not said anything to Soohyun (well, he didn’t have the opportunity to anyway but even during their confrontation, when she asked for details, he said nothing) nor the professor, so maybe that’s it?

- « Of course it doesn’t matter to me, but … » ELIJAH NOOOOOOOO ;;;;;;;;; After Yohan, Elijah tries in her way to hold Gaon back — and she makes a valid point tbh (look at what happened by the end of the episode!), but seeing her putting all her efforts and realizing it’s failing is heartbreaking … Given the preview for ep. 13, please let me hope this conversation won’t be their last one!! 

- Utter devastation when the next scenes show how Gaon still shines even in his absence: the « You never apologize » + the scene with the nanny & Gaon’s last prepared meal + Gaon’s portrait by Elijah … ugh 

- Elijah’s painting game is too strong, can’t relate haha! I wish they could show the BTS for this painting, respect for the artist behind!!

- On metaphorical images, Gaon took care of the Kangs like he tended to his plants at home. On a regular basis, he provided them attention and care, making them lively as his plants got lush. On ep. 8, we got a shot of Elijah smiling at Gaon’s plants, sort of a confirmation she loved how their house became warmer since Gaon’s stay, which led her to open up to his uncle.

- Now they’re only four! It looks like the mafia game haha, i look forward (am i though?) to the day Sun-Ah sits by herself haha 

AND THIS MAN

This is true pig behavior, especially considering Sun-Ah’s past … I felt her reaction when he said all this bs to demean her, she had all her struggles with men thrown back to her face, soiled by these « jokes ». 

- The monsters, the abyss and Nietzsche:

« He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. », Nietzsche

- « I don’t care if humanity falls, as long as i have you two ». It was what he wouldn’t say to Gaon nor Elijah, and yet they’re his world! This sequence parallels Gaon’s inner wish when he leaves the Kang’s house + the flashbacks of his fond memories with the Kangs. Will Yohan give his vigilante ideals up for them? Will Gaon pursue this dream but in his own way that won’t threaten their « worlds »?

(Now we know what his whole world meant)

- The light from the chandelier (ie. their newfound family) is out of Yohan’s (metaphorical) reach, shown by its blurred silhouette, as if it’s gone from the room which regained its initial colder tones. But it’s not: once it’s made its way in the room, it remains and lingers, as a keepsake of the lost warmth. His fond memories with Gaon and Elijah flashed back through the window’s light.

On a similar note, Gaon’s room, albeit having warmer tones than the Kang’s ones since the beginning, looks dark too. The contrast with earlier episodes is clear. This reminds me of My Mister’s (SPOILERS) full shots of Lee Ji An’s room, getting warmer as she gets to know Park Dong Hoon, and losing all its fond colors when she has to leave for his sake. As if the room and inanimate objects were given life by their owner, imbuing them with their feelings. It becomes an outer expression of their feelings. Sorry for the rambling but i just love when they do that in fiction, and i think it sometimes leaves more impact to the viewers if emotions are conveyed through various angles (eg. through another character’s point of view, sounds, looks, the use of light i mentioned below, etc) ! 

- I wonder … since the flashbacks are giving us Gaon’s conscious point of view on this separation, was he awake when Yohan came back from his (forced) encounter with Sun-Ah? It’s a really minor point but it could be an interesting detail since this show always shows us there are some sides or spots to the stories we didn’t have yet! 

The jenga scene also flashed back but this time we see Gaon’s POV seeing Yohan’s smile & we got Gaon’s angle when Yohan had a nightmare in ep. 5: while from Yohan’s POV, Gaon’s irruption truly felt like an invasion of his intimacy (the quick succession of shots expressing his panic and defensive reaction), from Gaon’s POV only one angle showed the scene, the tension was conveyed only when Yohan slapped his hand away. 

We also got Yohan’s POV when he admitted to Gaon he needed him by his side (and a closer look at Gaon’s troubled expression)!  

- Ep. 5 and 11-12 parallels: 

Yohan’s tentative look at Gaon and Elijah playing outside, as if he wanted to join them like in ep. 11, the curtains mainly closed and only pushed by one of his hands. It let the daylight in his dark room through this sneak peek. 

But in ep. 12, the curtains are drawn, Yohan taking the (moon)light fully in. And this time, he doesn’t reach out to his late brother in the flames, but to the moonlight. He gets up, as in a trance, from his nightmare like the last time, but he goes to his window instead. And it reminds me of both Huckleberry Finn’s OST’s (in Tempest, « you said i’ll live in the sun / moonlight » and in The Nights, « my / your night shines on you / me »), the suffer is here. And see how the light reveals his tear? I nearly missed it!

The fact he could not find sleep anymore after this night + he slept on his sofa where the moonlight could be seen + has kept his phone right next to him (in case Gaon called him or to know if something happened to him) ➾ 🌝 pure devastation 🌝

- I really love the show’s use of light/dark tones to reveal and contrast its characters’ emotions! What you can’t see in the light gets revealed in the dark, and vice-versa. The OST The Nights touches on this subject as well. 

And it ties up very well to the plot so far: everyone has his or her own motivations and intentions, background, and makes choices, but depending on the perspective, their story changes and sparks off different reactions. Everybody’s story is interconnected. 

As @skylessnights pointed out, one of the books found during the series (when Yohan revealed his past to Gaon if i’m correct), The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, depicts this angle well in its plot and epigraph: « Never again shall a single story be told as though it were the only one. » - John Berger. 

When Gaon and Yohan go back to the mansion after CKH’s death, the route lights flash Gaon’s hands red, caught (literally) red-handed by Soohyun. He begins to recollect his recent memories of what just happened, and panics, short-winded, until Yohan touched his arm. He’s startled but calmed himself down, and we don’t hear him out of breath anymore. It’s interesting how the light’s focus was on Gaon’s hands, the core of his panic, until Yohan’s arm came into the light, as if our and Gaon’s attention went back to Yohan’s touch, his anchor in his panic, and begins to think clear-headed of what they had done. (btw, getting Phoenix Wright desperate vibes from Gaon’s pose haha)

Gaon’s emotions show when his phone lights up, trying to reach Soohyun again. 

When Yohan’s inner wish brings him back to their happy times, the end of the flashback shows a shot of his eyes dazzled by the light of these memories and back to the present, the light now gone out from his eyes.

Yohan’s reaction to Gaon’s cry in the prison yard in ep. 7: what i loved to see was how his restraint told more about the emotions he held back. The light shifting on his face revealed his jaw clenching & frowned brows, his glassy eyes and him averting his gaze, which he often does when he’s in front of sensitive topics and it’s too much.

+ other instances he looked away:

When Jinjoo decides to accept the foundation’s offer, she steps into the dark side of the room where the two chairmen are. Up till now, she stood where the light could reach her, away from them. It symbolically seals her involvement with the foundation, and by the end of ep. 12, it is confirmed by her message on behalf of the foundation (about the plague) displayed on the screens. By the way, i love the fact so much things unfold while we focus on Yohan and Gaon’s story!

On the subject of ‘subjective’ truths, examples, besides the flashback with the priest about Yohan in ep. 11, could be the truth behind the cancellation of the donation by Yohan or Sun-Ah’s fall from the window when she was a maid. We got Sun-Ah, Elijah, and then later Yohan’s point of view.

- I think Gaon tried to call Soohyun and not Yohan (though the subs say otherwise) because the contact above has the ‘thug’ nickname with the fist emoji! It made more sense, Yohan would’ve answered right away! But i believe he will have regrets/worries in the next episodes (Yohan and Elijah seem to be getting in real danger so maybe he’ll come back to save them).

- Metatextuality in The Devil Judge — Beauty and the Beast (written by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont & Disney’s 1991 animation movie)

I’ve always loved transtextual relationships between fictions, my french teacher in middle school gave us this passion haha! Ever since i read this interview translated by @deviljudge​, it’s true i’m getting more and more Beauty and the Beast vibes, especially from ep. 12’s argument (and the whole premise Belle got locked up in the mansion in the beginning)! The original fairy tale and Disney’s adaptation are both relevant, some plot points differ from one another (Belle’s sisters vs Gaston, the mansion personnel turned into living paraphernalia) even though the core of the fairy tale is left untouched but for the sake of this bit, i’ll use the 1991 movie because its inevitably longer format delves more into the fairy tale moral lesson.

(Cheesy time incoming haha) The beast lets Belle go see her father he knew she deeply cared about, and let her go because he realized he loved her. He thought she would never come back, but despite it all, she came back and saved him from Gaston. Belle (Gaon) broke the spell that was casted on the mansion (the Kangs and their loneliness, especially when Yohan said he’s tired of this house). Yohan fails at not hurting the people he cares about but learns step by step, by Gaon and Elijah's side, how to live again and reconnect with his ‘human’ side.

Even the secretary looks like the modern version of the whole cast in the Beast’s mansion (Cogsworth, Lumière, …) haha

The movie intro is self-explanatory: 

« Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind. But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? »

Belle’s characterization in the movie is also interesting:

« With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in her book what a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle ». 

« There must be more than this provincial life (…) I want adventure in the great wide somewhere — I want it more than i can tell — And for once it might be grand to have someone understand — I want so much more than they’ve got planned » 

& when Belle got locked up in the mansion: « I’ve lost my father, my dreams, everything. » (similar to “Soohyun is my world”).

Gaon, since his parents’ death, lived his life believing in the illusion of justice the system gave him, along with Soohyun and professor Min, his two pillars who kept him steady this whole time. Once he was showed it was an illusion, he wanted to fight this world.

Before the movie’s climax, this conversation reminded me of ep. 12’s argument:

« - Belle? Are you happy here with me?

- Yes. [looks to the distance]

- What is it?

- If only i could see my father again just for a moment. I miss him so much.

- There is a way. This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see.

- I’d like to see my father, please. [The mirror projects the image of his father in danger and sick] Papa. Oh no. He’s sick. He may be dying and he’s all alone.

- [Glances at the wilting rose] Then you must go to him. 

- What did you say?

- I release you. You’re no longer my prisoner.

- You mean i’m free?

- Yes.

- Oh, thank you. Hold on Papa, i’m on my way.

- Take [the mirror] with you, so you’ll always have a way to look back and remember me.

- Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.

(…)

- I let her go. 

- [Cogsworth] Yes, splen … You what? How could you do that?

- I had to.

- Yes but … Why?

- Because i love her. »

Yohan did nothing to hold Gaon back even if he needs him (as shown when he clutches his hands together after he left) because he was forced by Gaon to understand how precious Soohyun is to him, this point was already made multiple times in the series (when Gaon thought he was the one who pushed Soohyun in the stairs and already threatened him about it, when Gaon told him he couldn’t live as a conman in front of Soohyun and his parents). Since his ‘to have you by my side, i would have done worse if it was necessary’ + ‘this is a life or death situation, sacrifices are also necessary’, he seemed to think Soohyun was expendable in his own world, which he shared with Gaon. With this argument, his world looks definitely incompatible with the one Gaon described (« Soohyun is my world »), and even though they already went this far in their plan, he lets him go and respects his choice. Will it make him change for the better or for the worse? Will the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ apply to him?

Other moments i found interesting to note:

« Come into the light »:

When Belle goes to save the Beast from the village:

« - Please, i know he looks vicious, but he’s really kind and gentle. He’s my friend. - - [Gaston] If i didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster. - - He’s no monster, Gaston. You are! - - If you’re not with us, you’re against us. » (pretty similar to the professor’s rage in the hospital)

When Belle’s father goes to save her: « I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find that castle and somehow, i … I’ll get her out of there. » (when Soohyun talks about and to Yohan)

The Beast possessive behavior in the beginning of the story: « [To her father] She’s no longer your concern, take him to the village. » (similar to Yohan’s behavior towards Soohyun) & « [To Belle] The castle is your home now » (and towards Gaon)

A monster:

When the Beast observes Belle playing from afar:

- And i saw some Jane Eyre vibes (SPOILERS) from the whole fire haha + Wuthering Heights on Sun-Ah’s & Yohan’s mixed parts!

- And well … Sun-Ah’s character loosely reminds me of Simone in Nier Automata (which in itself is a reference to Simone de Beauvoir’s life and works), with the whole « I must become more beautiful / But he still won’t look my way », to whoever knows this game! 

- These thigh boots holy hell Sun-Ah!!!! i loved this outfit!

- As soon as he said he didn’t feel anything from his revenge, K got the biggest death flag in this episode, i can’t believe they did this to the poor boy … When i asked for more scenes THIS isn’t what i meant aaaaaaaaaa

- A very random and weird note: Yohan’s almost silent and held back pain by the end of the ep. 12 fits his character so far, as well as his ‘calm’ tears. Given his past, it’s as if he’s always kept his pain bottled up and quietly bears it all and almost never got the space to properly let it all out (he had his brother, but with their father, i think they didn’t have this ‘chance’).

- My sick mind thought Sun-Ah was going to bring Gaon to the scene just in time for him to witness Yohan getting shot, but i guess it will be when she will get in the Kang’s mansion again according to the preview (since she asked Juk Chang for a « favor », i think they’ll knock Gaon out  after beating him up for his own fun to leave him to Sun-Ah). Sun-Ah looked surprised when Jae-Hee shot him, so i guess only hurting K was part of the plan.

- The ‘I know i’m fucked’ look hahaha

+ the softer version:

- I now have BIG trust issues since these last episodes’ previews, and the cliffhangers kill me haha 

- On another note, i find it amazing how Ji Sung and Kim Min Jung keep that upsetting atmosphere whenever there’s a scene between them that involves them and skinship, but it still conveys Sun-Ah’s complex feelings for Yohan and Yohan’s interest in her! The soundtrack really does a good job to convey that mood as well!

- In conclusion: How Dramatic do you want these two episodes to be? The devil judge: Yes

[owl-with-a-pen]

Hola querida! We need a story where brainy says something along the lines of “touch her and I’ll kill you” or “don’t you dare touch her..” we don’t see many instances of protective boyfriend brainy.

- I was trying to think of a scenario for this for a while, but 6x03 gave me an intriguing idea. Thanks for the prompt! x

Brainy had expected this task to be easy.

After all, compared to every other thought track currently running simultaneously through his mind, gathering a box of belongings from Lena’s old workplace hardly needed space for consideration.

Brainy understood why Lena didn’t want to face Luthor Corp again, certainly not to collect the meagre selection of knick-knacks that one of her old assistants had no doubt scooped into a piece of cardboard for her to carry out with her tail between her legs. It was a cruelty, plain and simple, and Brainy was beginning to learn how much such cruelties stung.

So, when Lena had mentioned with offhanded distaste what she needed to do that day, Brainy was more than happy to volunteer to go in her steed. It worked in his favour, after all. Alex had been pushing him to get out of the lab for some fresh air for nearly eighteen hours - now he could fulfil her request. 

With one thought track focused on reformatting Nia’s training simulation, and another remotely accessing the Phantom Zone data map for any new leads, Brainy found he had far too much of his mind left wide open - places where far more dangerous thoughts were now encouraged to grow more often than not.

Perhaps a distraction was exactly what he required.

The office should have been empty. That’s what Lena had said, that’s what Luthor Corp’s security feed had suggested. Brainy hadn’t considered any alternative outcomes, and so the moment he’d spied Lena’s belongings sat on the table by the sofa, he’d headed there immediately.

“Not even a week without her assets and I see my sister’s already wrangled someone into doing the heavy lifting for her.”

The sound of that voice sent every nerve in Brainy’s body on edge.

He’d been doing better. Over the last few days since his talk with Lena, he’d been doing better. Giving himself an emotional outlet, allowing them to flow from him instead of being boxed inside, turning to toxic waste in his gut. He’d even found it easier to switch his attention from the television when Lex’s face predictably appeared for one of his seemingly never-ending publicity stunts.

But, that was television. That was circuits and screens, separating them from one another.

Now, Lex was stood there in the room with him, Lena’s desk acting as their only partition.

Brainy could feel Lex’s eyes on him, shark-like and hungry, waiting for his response. And so, Brainy kept his jaw locked tight, focusing his line of sight on the box and nothing else. Of picture frames and other keepsakes.

A photo of Lena and Kara stared up at him, their smiles so pure and genuine it nearly stung.

The acid in Brainy’s lungs swelled.

Aggravatingly, his lack of response only made Lex that much more talkative.

“It was an impressive hack, by the way,” Lex continued casually. “I assumed you were the mastermind behind it. Reminds me why I wanted you on Team Lex to begin with.”

Brainy stiffened. “I was never on your team.”

He shouldn’t have spoken. Shouldn’t have given in. But suddenly, all that he had done to free himself of his emotional backlog hardly seemed enough. It surged from the very depths of his uninhibited mind, hissing and spitting like vitriolic acid.

Which only seemed to make Lex’s confidence grow.

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Lex asked. “Does it help you sleep at night?”

Brainy bared his teeth.

“Oh no,” Lex said, fake sympathy dripping from his voice. “Something tells me it’s not working.”

Brainy pursed his lips, instead reaching once more for the box. His arms trembled with wasted potential, but he ignored their protests. He had a task to do. Unexpected interruptions aside, Lena was counting on him to carry it out. And he would not fail.

“Maybe it isn’t for you at all then,” Lex wondered aloud. “Maybe you sell that story for your girlfriend’s benefit.”

An ugly flash of red tinted Brainy’s vision.

“Nia, isn’t it?” Lex asked innocently. “I hear she works for CatCo, quite the up-and-coming journalist. Although, CatCo is such a troublesome place of work, isn’t it? Always getting destroyed in the crosshairs of city-wide threats. Just how long can that place go without another casualty?”

Brainy could hear the barely disguised threat behind Lex’s words.

Fresh rage bubbled inside his chest, inching closer and closer towards his heart. The box blurred from his line of focus and, in the next instant, Brainy found that he was staring directly at Lex, his fingers clenched so tightly he felt the sharp prick of his own nails digging against his flesh.

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Brainy said, his voice so low he barely recognised it as his own. But it was his voice, and he realised all too soon that his threat was very real.

After all, he could do it. He knew exactly how to do it. Multiple ways, in fact, flashing through his mind with startling precision, each one more elaborate and gruesome than the last. Watching the light extinguish from Lex Luthor’s eyes… nothing would make him happier.

His ancestors would revel in it. They already were, louder than ever before, melding with the rage that was corroding his lungs with every breath he took.

Some quiet part of Brainy’s mind startled at such inclinations, such a desire to be one like the bloodline he had fought so hard to renounce.

But what was one whisper against a hoard of enticing cheers?

Lex only stared at him, with that smile that never quite reached his eyes, urging him to the very edge of his emotional barriers. “Empty threats, Brainiac-5.”

That was all it took.

Brainy didn’t remember clearing the room, only that when he was fully aware of himself again, he was stood in front of Lex, his right hand gripped firmly around his throat. Every implant inside of him was fired up, ready to snap his neck at the slightest provocation. 

When a gleeful laugh tumbled from Lex’s lips, the red staining Brainy’s vision only grew stronger. He growled out, slamming Lex’s body against the reinforced windows with enough force that they shuddered inside their fixtures.

All he needed to do was activate his implants to their highest capacity, activate his ring, and he could take Lex high into the sky. He could watch the oxygen drain from his lungs. Watch his eyes bulge and swell.

Or… or he could simply drop him. Drop him down into the city he nearly destroyed, allowing him to fall with such velocity that the only thing that might remain of him on the sidewalk would be a smear of blood and bone. Like he had never been a person at all.

He had never been a person at all.

Brainy bared his teeth, looking his enemy in the eyes.

Which was when he saw it.

There was no fear there. In fact, if anything, Lex only looked deeply satisfied with what he’d done. What emotions he’d brought to the surface.

Brainy’s eyes flickered back and forth uselessly over that expression, trying desperately to make sense of it. But it… it didn’t make sense. He was threatening Lex’s life and… and he didn’t care.

No. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He was enjoying this. This game. This…

The red film washed from Brainy’s eyes all at once.

He let go of Lex’s throat, stumbling back a pace, gripping uselessly at Lena’s old desk, squeezing it numbly.

Brainy’s chest heaved.

This wasn’t him. He’d spent months now hiding from his truest self, allowing the rage of everything Lex had put him through to fester into a corrosive bile inside his chest and stomach.

But, he was not a killer. He would not turn to the darkest version of himself. He had fought far too long and hard to prove that he was not his kin. That he would never follow the path of his clan.

Lena had let Lex go. And now… now Brainy knew he must do the same.

Lex had crumpled when Brainy had removed his hand, holding tight to his throat between dramatic gasps of air. Still, he was smiling, something crazed shining in that expression. Something... desperate.

Ah. Now, Brainy believed he understood. 

Lex needed this… this sick form of attention. Without his sister, without Supergirl, he had run out of enemies to aggravate.

Perhaps it had not been happenstance that this office had been inhabited when Brainy had arrived, after all.

“You aren’t worth my attention,” Brainy said through his teeth, trying to draw in from the emotionless façade he had pulled in the past. It was far more of a struggle than it had ever been before, but it was enough to keep his voice steady.  Brainy took a step forward, watching Lex quizzically, as though he were nothing but an animal inside a cage. “My friends,” Brainy continued levelly, “my loved ones, we protect each other, but who would protect you?”

Lex blinked, the smallest furrow creasing his brow, a murmur of confusion.

Brainy’s lips twitched. “If I were to kill you, who would even care if you were gone?” He smirked. “No one.”

Brainy turned away from him then, ignoring the angry red handprint that still painted Lex’s throat, ignoring his enemy’s attempts to goad him even as he headed out the door.

Instead, he took Lena’s box.

And he walked away.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

           A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

           “Welcome home, Master.”

           “Where is he?”

           Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

           As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

           “Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.  

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.  

           Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

           “Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

           Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

           “Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

           Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

           YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

           It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

           “He’s a menace!”

           Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

           YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.  

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

           “What is the official story, your highness?”

           Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

    “Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

 “A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

 “Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

           They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

           “Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

           “I have no family.”

           “You are a Kim are you not?”

           “It is only a name.”

           Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

[haiky-u-lously]

King Kuroo and the Red Knights (13)

Summary: A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings: Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Eventual gore and fighting

Word Count: For Chapter: ~4000words

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always. Enjoy! –Admin Red

Chapter 13: Round 1C

“Do you have many tournaments in your home?” The King questioned you as he took his seat while the arena was cleared of the fallen trash from the stands surrounding it.

Shaking your head in the negative, you also moved to take a seat.

“Generally we hold them in celebrations, or as contests for some big prize.” He said, smiling while you presumed he reminisced about past memories. “When my father got sick and I had more responsibilities placed on me, I ended up planning almost one a month to give me a reason to expel some of my stress. The men, they just went right along with my whims.” His eyes took a fond look over them as he paused in his spiel, “But the month he died, I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. It took much effort on all of their parts to get me to do regular duties, let alone plan and prepare tournaments. Yuurei too had more burdens to bear from my lack of control over my own state. She had to do a lot more that one month than any Queen in Camelot’s history.” Kuroo shook his head, before bringing a small smile back to his face. “Sorry about that, kind of went off there for a bit didn’t I?” He seemed to try and laugh away the serious atmosphere he’d created, but you knew there was more in his head.

Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to press him further, but let him get away with shaking off his own concerns.

He faced you with a wide grin, “So, is Sugawara a good fighter?”

You nodded, thinking to yourself about memories past. Your cousin was one of the youngest men to be granted the title of Red Knight. He was exceptional when it came to forming strategies, and using things and those around him to win battles. His fighting skill, while not being the top of the order, was nothing to laugh at.

“Have you fought him yourself?” Kuroo asked you, and you thought you heard a teasing tone in his questioning, but you just smiled to yourself before nodding. “Interesting, interesting. I’d ask deeper questions,” He laughed and then added, “But I know you won’t answer out loud, so I won’t press the matters. But, just know I do want to ask more than simple yes and no questions.”

Nodding once more, you accepted the King’s explanation for what it was, as just a way for him to express himself.

“Hey, hey hey!” Bokuto called from behind your sitting pair, approaching the side of Kuroo’s chair happily, “Did you see my win? Pretty great, wasn’t it!” He shouted, excitedly pumping his fists in the air before taking what had been Suga’s seat. “Sorry I missed your fight, Red Knight. But, now we get to face one another, that’ll be great!” He smiled to you, leaning far forward to see you around the other side of the King’s sitting form.

Bobbing your head in response, you grinned behind your mask. This knight in particular was overly excitable, and that was something you could use as a tactic in your fight against him.

Your vision was caught by movement from the tunnels into the heart of the stadium. Two knights walked in, side-by-side from either entrance. By the lack of marks on his borrowed uniform, you could tell which was your cousin, and noted that he walked in next to a knight marked in dark teal. By the way the two seemed to interact, you pieced together that he was entering the field with Futakuchi. Which meant the pair of knights entering the arena opposite were Semi and Yamagata, both marked with purple boxes. They were distinguished by one box having a vertical white stripe on the left half and the other bearing a horizontal white stripe on the top half.

Though in the moment it was hard to tell which knight was which, you knew you’d find out as soon as they split up for their fight.

Seeing Suga being friendly with the magician of Camelot made you happy that you’d switched places with him, and though not for the first time that you found more pleasure in it than just as a selfish reason.

You watched as the two men high-hived before your friend continued forward to his side of the makeshift battlefield. And despite yourself, you wondered what they’d been discussing.

Shaking your head to rid yourself the thoughts swirling in your mind, and ultimately deciding that you should trust Suga’s words that he’d win his fight and that you should watch Futakuchi’s.

Before Kuroo could begin the bout, you were finally able to distinguish between the two knights marked in purple and white. The horizontal striped one apparently was Yamagata as he stood with Suga, while the vertical striped one still approached Futakuchi’s side.

____________________________

Suga spun your blades against his palms, flashing the pristine shine against the sunlight to catch his opponent’s eyes. The pause in his spinning wrist, told the makeshift squire that he’d achieved the desired effect.

“These blades belong to the royal family of the Order. Passed down from generations since they are made from what is now an extinct substance.” He smiled behind the chainmail sticking out from under his borrowed helmet.

The giant metal ball hanging from the chain of Yamagata’s flail swung back and forth with the after force from the swing coming to a succinct halt.

“Are those really an alexandrite and painite pair of blades?” While unable to see the knight’s face, the heavy tone of shock and awe in his voice told the visiting fighter that the knight in front of him was primed for their battle.

When the King of Camelot shouted for the bout to begin, Suga took the brief time of his opponent's confusion to lung forward. 

He elbowed Yamagata in his vambrace, knocking the fighter’s shield out of the way, and let the flail wrap itself around the alexandrite stiletto. However, to his surprise, pulling back on the blade didn’t pull the weapon from Semi’s hand. 

The knight of Camelot must have regained his focus as he gritted his teeth, tightened his hold on his weapon of choice and twisted his shield wielding arm around to Suga’s breast plate and pushed him away.

Suga managed to untwist his blade from Yamagata’s flail before being shoved back, but had to quickly adjust to defending as his opponent went on the attack.

Spinning, the ball of metal kept Suga’s focus and he was forced to think solely on defense instead of how to attack. It was definitely a well practiced tactic, and in his mind, the silver-haired fighter applauded his counterpart. Unfortunately, he couldn’t break his word to the Princess of his home, he couldn’t break his promise to his cousin, his best friend. He had to find a way to counter the attack, not only defend.

Busy with his thoughts, the unmarked knight lost his footing and fell back against the hard ground.

Yamagata took note and moved fast as his flail flung over his shoulder , into the air and began rushing towards the cuirass protecting Suga’s upper chest. In the brief time that the resistance of the air between them gave him, your friend rolled to his side and the metal round hit the near solid earth. 

Without really thinking, Sugawara rolled back to his original fell position--trapping his opponent’s weapon between the earth and the rear of his pauldron. The purple marked knight struggled as the chain attached to his wooden stick resisted his pull. Behind his helmet, his face contorted as he tried to manipulate the angle of the pull as the unmarked knight furthered the trap by squeezing his arm against his side, keeping the chain locked and the ball stuck where it fell.

Suga took the moment to try and think of an attack strategy. He realized that his opposite had at some point let go of his shield, and that he was using both hands in an attempt to tear back his weapon. Blinking slowly, he recalled a move he’d seen you do against some of the others back when you were still allowed to train and not sneaking behind the King’s orders to do so.

______________________

“(Y/N)!” he’d yelled out as he helplessly watched your body be flung into the ground. Your opponent was much larger than most of the knights in training. He knew the King had the instructors set this line-up to try and convince you to make the decision yourself to withdraw from this line of work.

You had barely caught your breath before the towering, older trainee hovered above you. Your lying form pulled up by the collar of your shirts, you were swinging at the forearm of your current sparring partner. A tight frown took over your features and your cousin watched as the man sneered at you, “Stupid royals, thinking you’re such tough pits. This ought to teach you why those idiots died so easily.” 

He pulled back his dominant arm, preparing a full fledged power punch. And Suga saw as you half attitude-half fearful demeanor turned into pure rage. Your eye color flashed between a myriad of hues before settling on your natural shade, your lower half swung through the air, trapping your opponent’s arm and neck between your thighs right before you started to squeeze. The fighter’s shoulder blade must have been pressured against his airways as his face began to darken and everyone watching saw as his group loosened on your clothes. Your legs tighten their hold further as you cross your ankles and swing the lower half of your body to replicate a handstand before continuing the flip. Forcing the opposer to his backside and screaming through clenched teeth until he passed out and the adults in charge rushed to try and pry you off the other trainee.

________________________

The memories of other times you’d accomplished similar feets rushed through his mind and Suga’s mind locked onto one path to victory.

His legs spun over Yamagata’s head, his upper body keeping the flail trapped in its place as he brought his opponent face first into the dirt beneath him. His legs hooked under the dark haired knight’s arms as he practically sat on his backside. 

With the weapon no longer in anyone’s hands, it fell limp between Suga’s arm and side. Grabbing it with three fingers while holding the painite sai with the other two, he flung it across the field and out of reach.

Yamagata’s head sat on its side, as he huffed in anger about how easily he’d been caught and disarmed. He knew he shouldn’t have changed weapons with Satori, but his friend just had to match Terushima for his fight. Guiding his breath back to a normal pace, the dark haired fighted thought about what his next play could be. Knowing his opponent helf two blades, even small ones like a sai and stiletto, was a troubling factor as he had nothing left but his armour. If he could only get the flail back...bucking his hips, he caused Suga to slightly waver in his solid position, Yamagata dropped to a lying flat position before lifting his upper body up by his arms and sliding Suga so far down his backside he could pull his legs up to his chest and bounce to a standing position. Spinning as soon as he did to face the visiting fighter for hand to hand combat.

Suga saw the stance and thought how he wished to proceed, to showcase your blades or disarm himself to fight with his body alone. 

“COME ON THEN!” He heard Camelot’s King shouting, and a quick glance over his shoulder allowed him to see that King Kuroo was watching his fight with a look of pure joy across his features. While he couldn’t see your face, your body language told him you weren’t even watching his battle. Taking this to mean you expected a proper outcome from him, he held the painite sai such that all three tips stuck between the fingers of his gloves. The stiletto held by his fist.

Yamagate rushed Suga’s form, your cousin slightly jumping as the Camelot knight went low for a better hold of his missed target. Swimming the stiletto back, the tip rested against the chainmail beneath the purple marked knight’s helmet.

“Yield.” Suga warned, putting enough force into the blade that it could not be further ignored.

To his favor, the dark haired knight could sense the bloodlust in that single word. His fist slammed into the ground in anger as he realized he was out of options. Mentally he tallied that it's two losses for his team within the knights, making half of them out of the tournament. He felt like he’d let everyone down by becoming the fiftieth percent.

The unmarked knight pulled back the alexandrite stiletto enough for Yamagata to rest back on his greaves. 

“Good fight Sugawara,” He commented, taking his helmet off before resting his hands on his knees, leveling out his breath before trying to move.

Taking off his own head protector, your friend smiled down at the man he’d just faced. “You as well Hayato, but I’m guessing you don’t regularly use a flail as your main weapon.” He laughed out at the face flung towards his sneer of a comment. “Gotta admit, had I not accidentally trapped it beneath my shoulder, not sure I would have figured out a quick way out.”

“Don’t try sugar-coating it, it's not helpful having the person who’d just made a complete fool of you tell you it was just luck.” The brown haired knight scowled, looking at his tightly held fists in annoyance.

Suga scoffed before taking a seat next to him, “Every fight has a shred of luck in it, and despite the attitude I believe you know that to be true. It's not that I won solely because of luck, it was that luck allowed me the slight chance to utilize skills I’ve developed through training and hard work. Just as past battles have allowed you. I am sorry if you feel I was...what did she always call it...badgering you about your loss, truly.”

Yamagata looked at him fully, recognizing the honesty and sincerity in his voice. “Badgering, huh? Guess that is as good a way to say you were picking on me as any. Can’t say I’ve heard it before. Who exactly said it always?” Half joking, half really wondering, Hayato pushed his thought forward, “Your princess cousin?”

“Yes.” Suga answered bluntly, spinning the stiletto against his open palm and watching the light alexandrite blade sparkle in the sun’s rays.

“Oh.” Was all he could respond with before glancing away from the man beside him. Thinking it must be hard to be away from someone you were so close with, without knowing when you’d see them again. 

The pair stood at the same time, shook hands and then walked off the field.

_________________________

“Are you not watching your friend fight?” The King sat beside you had asked at the very beginning.

Shaking your head in the negative, you fully turned your body away from the pair in question facing the King’s magician.

“Ouch, guess he must have upset you in some manner. Well, as he is the only one to speak with you I am sure you’ll have to talk to him soon enough. But if you ever need an escape I am sure any of the knights would be willing to tour you around the main city.”

Smiling to yourself at his kindness, you considered using your powers to send him your thoughts as you did with Suga. However, you thought better of it before taking action. It had only been a week, these people couldn’t even tell what your cousin could do, let alone yourself. If you shared too much too soon, it could spell disastrous. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you focused on watching the match before you.

__________________________

It seemed odd that Futakuchi held a two pronged weapon to you. One end matching Aone’s mace while the other looked to be a bill. The hook coming off the sharp tip protruding in a way that made you tilt your head in wonder of what his power play would be.

The attendant held the weapon with both hands, either end facing the sides rather than forward towards his opponent.

Semi however stood in front of the magician, head free from the protection offered by a helmet, nor chainmail set against his cranium hiding his hair. The dark-gray strands cadging his face in a light that reminded you of Suga whenever he scowled at you as teens. Attached to his back was the sheath for a machete, which he seemed to be reaching for as he seemingly moved in slow motion. You noted a couple other sheaths attached to his armour with other weapons ready to be drawn.

In an instant, you nearly missed as his hand wrapped around the handle of his main blade and he flung it straight at Futakuchi before it was completely pulled from its carrying place. The opponent also barely catching on to the fighter’s plan as his magic, or a very dulled down version of it in any case stopped the thick piece from hitting his own protective headgear right between the eye slits.

Before you could blink, Semi was in front of Futakuchi’s barely balanced form with a tanto fisted with the thumb on the flat rear. The sharp tip of the blade striking from its hold against the magician as he tried to put space between his attacker and self to utilize his own choice weapon. 

He must have determined the big thing as obstructive as his grip loosened enough to pull Semi’s attention slightly, allowing the attendant a split brief in which he pulled a miniature dagger from seemingly nowhere. Pushing it against the tanto and forcing both weapons a safe distance away from the weaker points of his armour.

Semi smiled, as his arm swung back to its original position from a lower angle then how it was ushered away. The magician sneering to himself behind his helmet as he realized Semi had been practicing for such an occasion to face him.

“You can’t beat me every time, Futa.” He whispered into the side of his opponent’s obstructed face. “I’m a knight of Camelot, and as respected and appreciated as you are, to the people you are still meant to be a servant.”

The call from Kuroo towards the fight on the other side of the arena caused you a slip in focus and you weren’t sure how but suddenly Futakuchi was without his large weapon, barely fending off from Semi’s swings of his tanto and a dirk that had made an appearance.

The men battled it out and you were sure that Futakuchi was only using his powers to make a protective layer of energy around himself so as to not feel the brunt of force from the swings connecting with his armour. It stood to reason with his power hold that he should be defeating the knight without issue, and you wondered to yourself if he held similar standards as your troupe. If he did not want to utilize his powers if unnecessary or if he was more inclined to follow your own beliefs. It was a toss up as either would have fit the bill of not using powers against a friend in a mock-battle or training match, but it left a lot of room for questions as well.

Dooking it out some more, you felt a draw to look over at Suga, turning your head, you saw him jump aside from Yamagata’s rush and figured it was your imagination playing tricks on you. Focusing back on the pair you were determined to watch, you saw a glint of gold flash from behind Futakuchi’s helmet. Semi’s tanto swinging arm stopped midair, Futakuchi ducked beneath it and rushed to get behind his opponent before releasing the appendage and letting the swing complete its path.

Unfortunately, the short lived victory was...short lived. The gray-haired knight spun a one-eighty and right-hooked Futakuchi’s chin into the air. Knocking his helmet off and sending it flying as well as forcing the magician to shoot enough inches into the air that his own body flung back.

Thumbing his chin, still practically lying on the ground, the attendant grumbled to the knight, “Nutting toff! I give, happy?”

Smiling down at the brown haired man, Semi smiled with a killer grin, “Seeing me win does indeed make me happy.” He winked at Camelot’s magician, and you heard as many of the girls in the stands screamed at his apparent beauty. 

Holding a hand out to help him up, the knight relinquished whatever pride he’d been fighting with. Taking it, Futakuchi showed he held no malice towards his counter. The two made way to pick up their discarded weapons and left the battlefield without another word spoken in front of any prying eyes.

“Good fight?” The King asked you, seeing as both battles were now finished.

Nodding your head, you thought about what could have been the reason behind such an easy defeat on the magician’s part. Recalling that he was pressed to beat the men, and that many thought Camelot’s magician would face your own in Suga. Now with that not as an option, you couldn’t help but question yourself as to why.

“Can I overshare again?” Kuroo seemed hesitant to ask. Nodding simply, you turned to face him, giving the King the full attention he seemed to desire at the moment. “I can’t remember the last time I fought with someone sitting in this box. Yuurei always seems to be caught up or sick or not around, Daishou either is fighting or not around. The knights never feel like they can be here long--even Bokuto does as before where he drops in, says his piece and leaves without saying a word. I’ve always felt like if I am here, everyone can feel me watching them and they can get a sense of strength from that, but whenever I really think about how this box is empty when I fight...it’s not a good feeling to say the least.” 

You caught yourself from pitying him, he was a King, and while yes he was currently spilling a deep thought of his to you, you knew it was more because you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone more so than him wanting to actually talk to you. This was something he as a person needed to get off his chest so that he could continue being the royal his people needed, and being a royal yourself you understood that better than anyone else.So, you would let him get it out.

“I like the tournaments despite that though, because it brings such joy to the citizens and the men. I’d go through it every day if it could help even one more person. And I’m sure you’d agree to that sentiment since you seem to have such a strong sense of justice.”

Wait, what? His comment caught you off guard.

“It’s not so much as I think we are kindred spirits, but I am pretty sure you are the offspring of the Order’s King as your friend stated that first night. And, should that case be truth, I feel you would understand where I am coming from.” He smiled at you directly, and it took more willpower than you would ever admit to not move under the blinding features. “Thanks again for participating in the tourney, and for the heavy assist last week during the raid on the castle. From one royal to another, I truly appreciate having been able to meet your acquaintance.”

With his comments apparent to be done, the King strode out of the viewing box without another word.

You sat back, dumbstruck and frozen in the time it took Suga to return and lose his mind at your unresponsiveness. Staying mostly ignorant of your surroundings until Futakuchi came into the large stall and said something you didn’t really catch. 

_______________________________________________

Author’s message: So, anyone shocked? No? Hmmm... Guess I’ll have to try harder on ROUND 1D.

_______________________________________________ Table of contents:

Chapter 12                                                  Chapter 14

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Voicemail: Part 3

Hawks x reader 

A/n: I swear I am alive, I'm just getting my shit together for college. Anyways have my half-assed attempt at a story plot. I stopped here because I'm going through sad hours and that was really going to affect the rest of the story if I continued, I mean it still might be i’m not sure. No clue how gently I feel like being to everyone's feelings for the last chapter (don’t worry I make myself suffer too).

Part 1

Part 2

-Part 3-

Part 4

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

Hawks may not have been in the facility anymore, but he could still hear the words through the speaker. After all feathers weren’t the only thing he inherited from the avian species. In-fact, a lot of predatory bird-like qualities were passed down to him, none of which were proving to be any aid.

Endeavor exited the facility talking to some of the other heroes who were caring for the two children. He looked towards the clouds watching the desperate hero who was barely able to flap his wings in a steady momentum to keep him airborne. Twitching here and there causing his flow to stutter. Feathers puffed up clearly agitated, but some others sharpened to a dangerous level. It was truly a pitiful sight. From the looks of it, Hawks was nowhere near ready to calm down. Hands were shaking while switching from clenching to unclenching, desperately wanting to hold on to something. Nail marks were indented in the palms of his gloves. Anxiety and agony evidently overriding every morsel of reason that survived up to this point.  His eyes never stopped searching, gaze switching from place to place as light-speed. Endeavor could practically taste the burning red rage sourly seething through Hawks every movement. But, nothing Endeavor could say would bring Hawks from his agitated state. He had to let it fly its course. Only then would Endeavor be able to pull him back to one of the agencies where they could recuperate. 

Lucky for the heroes, they had detained all the henchmen left to guard the facility. They might be able to strangle some information out of them. But, it was kinda strange that the main man would leave them there knowing that the heroes were en-route. However, as Rumi noted, leaving those men there perfectly diverted their attention from the escaping vehicle. A smart move on the abductors part. 

The League was pretty pissed about the whole shebang. Torturing the earlier captured men in a more gruesome manner out of pure rage. In doing so, one of them squeaked about some sort of airport. Oh, now those two were in even deeper shit. Dabi was nice enough to inform Hawks about this new information though. Calling him over for a nice group beating. 

“That’s all I know swea- ack” 

Smack!

Blood splattered the ground, painting over old splotches littering the place. 

Crack! 

One of many bones to be shattered but the blunt head of the bat.

“I’ll ask this one for time- What fucking airport?”

Silence. 

Crack!

“Hawks, the guys’ gonna be dead before you get an answer, or at least a feasible one,” Dabi grunted. 

“Fucking hell,” Hawks cursed, slinging the blood dripping bat to the side of the room with an echoing thud as the wood teetered from end to end until it settled. Hands shooting to clench his golden locks in an iron grip. He squatted to the floor, head hanging low, trying to fight the urges of a predator whose prey sits before them utterly helpless. 

A scarred hand grabbed Hawks’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Hawks shifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could eye Dabi's own eyes from the side. So many emotions swirled within those baby blue pools of fire. Remorse, agitation, worry, and so much more, all together forming a dangerous poison. A poison which would make poor souls scream in agony for death. Something Keigo would be glad to provide. 

Now the two might now get along most of the time, but when facing a common goal, they are not a pair to be trifled with. 

The men in the chairs started struggles in the ropes that tied them to the splintering chair. Pulling hopelessly with all their might, but to no avail. Dabi and Hawks shifted their eyes to the bastards in front of them. 

The hand, not on Hawks’ shoulder, was raised to the man's face level, resting inches away. Smoke began flaring from Dabi’s scared palm, small blue flames flickered around the heel as it heated up. The heat alone was enough to singe the man’s facial hair. Terror welled in the man’s expression as the hand was brought closer, making him whimper.

“Let's try this again.”

Horrid fumes of burnt flesh swirled throughout the air. The man was a tough one to crack, Dabi knew he would come around, he just needed a little encouragement. They got the information they wanted him. Hawks had pity on the bastard, taking a feather, slitting his throat with one quick slash. The other man could do nothing but watch as his comrade bleed out.  

“Don’t worry pal, my boss has plans for you.”

No matter how much he tried to scream all that would come out was muffled sludge blocked by the gag. Dabi, patted his ashy hand on the man’s head before walking towards the door with Hawks following on his heels. The man’s thrashing only increased as he door slammed closed, leaving him with the freshly fried corpse of the other one.

“What’s the plan from here?” Dabi asked.

“If they wanted to sneak on the plane unnoticed, they would have to do it at night, when no one else could potentially spot them.”

“It's a private jet though.”

“Yes, but the guys said it was being held with other private jets.”

“Whatever, your dumbass logic gives me a headache sometimes.”

Twice popped out around the corner where they were talking.

“Please don’t screw each other in the lobby.”

“Twice, what the hell. I would rather set myself on fire.”

Hawks gave Dabi an offended glare. Dabi in return rolled his eyes, walking away from Hawks. 

“Just hurry up. Go get your boy scout in line and save her already”

“Who said I was doing this as a hero?”

Dabi halted, back facing Hawks. A smirk tugged at the corners of his charred lips as his eyes darkened. 

“You don’t have the balls to fly that far from the nest bud. Your stupid heroes commission the only things you truly value in society.”

Hawks glared, but held his tongue. Dabi glared back with just as much hatred taking a couple of steps back towards the winged hero. 

“That damned heroes commission seems to be the only thing you seem to stay faithful to.”

“What the Hell does that mean?” Hawks squawked.

“It means you are more likely to leave her for the vultures before ignoring your duties to those shitholes. Oh, wait a second, that's exactly what you did.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really now? So let me get this straight, you didn’t push her away, become a complete asshole to her because of them. Hawks at the end of the day all that matters in that brainwashed head of yours is that shitty organisation.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, let's pretend that it wasn’t the commission pulling the strings. In that case, you are a really shitty person. I mean, you ARE the reason they're in this mess to begin with.” Hawks’ blood ran cold, Dabi gave an exasperated chuckle “What makes you think she even wants YOUR help?” 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh how you harm me with your words.” Dabi mocked 

“Who’s fucking side are you on? Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Let’s be clear about one thing, birdbrain, just because I want her safe doesn’t mean i’m on your side. You fucked up. And that guilt is only because you feel responsible for her kidnapping, it isn’t because you’re disgusted with all the shit you put her through. So listen when I say-”

“No, you listen here, asshole. Do you honestly think I can't see the damage I did? I am not making an excuse for my behavior, looking back I can see how fucked up I was towards her. I was blessed with an angel, I had never in my life been genuinely cared about. I had never been so committed to someone, so attached to another person. Someone who felt the exact way as I did. It was terrifying.” Hawks paused face falling downwards, scrunching up to fight away the tears building up. “I didn’t have the balls to face her as time went on, so I did what I did best, I put up a front and moved forward. Avoiding our relationship, avoiding her, just because I was scared of commitment. I never bothered to think about the effects it might have had on her. I’m a real douche for doing it and I know it.”

“Shame what it took for you to figure that out.” 

There was nothing sympathetic in Dabi’s tone, no, it was as sour as biting into a ripe bitter melon. Hawks said nothing, he was right after all.

“Go home Keigo. You're not welcome here right now.”

Dabi watched as Hawks turned and walked to the door. Waiting till he was about to close the door on his way out to let out one final stab.

“Oh and Keigo,” Hawks paused “when she’s safe, hope she realizes you’re not worth it.”

SLAM!

Dabi was pretty sure Hawks broke some of the hinges when he shut it behind him.

“Bastard,” He muttered, clearly not into Hawks’ delinquent behavior. Dabi stomped off to the bar to talk to the others about what to do next.

What the actual fuck, Hawks thought as he took off into the dusk set skies. Yes, he knows he screwed this up, Dabi didn’t need to rub it in anymore.

Taking out his phone, Hawks shot a text to Rumi informing her of the newly found information. It was always kind of surprising that no other hero ever questioned where all his exclusive information came from, but oh well. Hawks went straight for the place, not giving anyone time to regroup and set out a plan. It didn’t do much good last time and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. He had an hour or so before the moon set in place, if he was lucky he would make it there before anyone else did. 

Wings soared through the clouds as he scanned the area below, searching for the facility. His sights locked onto a large gated perimeter, surrounding multiple runways connected to a couple of buildings housing the aircrafts. It was one of the many private airports in Tokyo, a place where the rich kept their collection of aircrafts. Hawks descended to a large window in the center of the middle building in the facility. The place seemed to be more of a showcase then anything, some of the jets looked like there were fresh out of manufacturing. 

The place looked empty, no sign of any life in the facility. If it wasn’t for his abnormal vision he would be able to see anything in the pitch black room. No gates or doors were open,  no runway lights shined behind him, no unusual vehicles were in sight. So either he beat everyone here, or he’s got the wrong place. 

He was about to take back off into the sky when he spotted a jet that matched the description the man gave him. A sleek black metal covering, twelve square windows spaced evenly on each side of the jet’s middle, matte silver nose, blood red paint rimming the edges of the wings. It was big enough to carry a small army. The jet seemed a little out of place next to all the smaller, more compact aircraft.

It was clear the jet had yet to be tampered with. They must be waiting till the moon was at its highest to hide their escape. If that was the case they would be there for another hour or so meaning Hawks could have a look around the place. Maybe sabotage the plane enough that it might not function properly. 

Using a feather Hawks carves out a circle into the glass, just big enough that he could fight through and not get stuck. The tricky part was putting the glass back into place so that the bastards weren’t suspicious of the giant whole in the window. But, he managed to do it with only a couple of close calls.

Though he was alone, Hawks still had to be careful nonetheless. Fingers felt around the side of his goggles in search of the night vision button. However, a glowing group of infrared blobs that only grew bigger by the second appeared in his sights. With great haste Hawks hide in the cramped empty space behind one of the two stairwells one either side of the balcony of the window. The tight squeeze forced his wings to fold into uncomfortable positions against the base of his back. 

It stopped right outside the giant corridors leading out to the building runway. While his the blurriness of the image made it hard to fully make out he counted seven or nine of the now van sized blobs. The one in the middle was to first to make any sort of move, a panel sliding to the side as figures exited the vehicle. Others to the right and left followed suit. All filing out into the open, crowding to the center one. Though all the bodies it was he could barely make out a body hauled out onto the ground next to boxes gathered for the other vans. His attention was so zeroed in on the limp body that he didn’t notice the dozen or so figures heading for the corridor. 

CREEEEAAAAK!!

The heavy metal scraped against the asphalt as it was forcefully pried open by the figures. They didn’t fully peel the doors back though, only enough so that a couple of men could head in. About six men entered the dark area, flashlights swinging around in search of anything intruder. Hawks scrunched farther into the wall, missing the beams of the one of them by millimetres allowing him to go unnoticed by the men. The continued their inspection, not very thoroughly Hawks noted, until they each gave a thumbs up signally to the others nothing was out of place.

“All clear,” One of them yelled out behind.

All six men then approach the designated aircraft. Hawks wanted to bang his head on the wall from his own stupidity, since he chose the staircase opposite of the plane. 

He let out a quiet hiss of frustration; “dammit.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he started trying to devise a plan. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak some feathers inside to take them out. So he did just that, sending one feather for each man and one extra just in case. 

The men had clearly let their guard drop as they focused on their tasks. He had no problem maneuvering the feathers around them as they worked. Two men were in the cockpit, two in the carriage, one taking storage in the backroom, and the last of the six was making his way to the single bathroom of the aircraft.

The man made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his pants before pulling out a phone and doing some unspeakable things that made Hawks want to vomit in his tiny corner. The poor guy had no clue that he was going to be the first to go, Hawks literally caught the bastard with his pants down. A mental note was made to just leave the dagger in his chest, after everything he just witnessed with that feather there was no way he wanted it back in his plumage. 

One down, five to go and next up was the storage guy. A feather hovered right above the back of the guy as he checked off boxes on his clipboard. Moving forward, but still sticking to the wall in order to give the feather a better angle to slash his neck. However, the bright colors contrasted with the white wall, catching the attention of the man.

“What the fuc-”

Swish

It sliced through the air, not giving the man any time to process the situation. Hands instinctively flew to his throat in a pathetic attempt to stop the life escaping him. Bright red blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers, leaking down his front as he wobbled on his feet. The harsh thud of a body crashing to the floor never sounded through the air as the feather slipped down the back of his shirt to guide him quietly to the ground. Once he was laid out noiselessly on the now red stained ground the feather took off to regroup. 

They all stayed as flat as paper against the slick interior of the plane, making sure never to be in the line of sight. Three feathers arrived at their next destination, the passenger section. The two men were just goofing off. Neglecting their assigned duties in favor of gossiping like highschool girls. Hawks could help the twitching of his upper lip, sharp canines baring each time the muscles spasmed. Sexist comments were slurred back and forth between them as they talked about his dove. Feral instincts screamed at him torture them till they were pleading for death. But, he needed to keep his composure or else risk getting caught and that was not something he could really afford right now. 

The feathers slithered down the aisle when the assholes turned their backs to one another. One feather took off to lock the cockpit hatch from the outside, making the two on the inside unable to interrupt Hawks. Both the men were facing the side wall of the aircraft making it easy to string two feathers into position to swoop up and dispose of them just like like the now rotting corpse in the storage compartment. 

Swish

Hawks really wished he could have prolonged their suffering, but he had more important matters to worry about, unlike those sexist bastards. Oh well, he would just have to be sure to spit on their corpses later. 

The last two in the cockpit worked to get the carrier up and running. Hawks could hear them from the two feathers locking inside with them as they ran their diagnostics. Just as the feathers were about to capture their lives the roaring of an engine coming to life sounded throughout the facility. Blinding bright headlights buzzed on pointing to the corridors as if asking to be let out. 

CREEEEAAAAK

Hawks peered over the corner of the wall hiding him, he saw more men pulling the door fully apart to make way for the giant aircraft. With all the new lighting Hawks had to turn off the night vision mode on his goggles so he could see. Through the orange tint of his lenses he could spot [y/n]’s limp body laying on her side facing him through the legs of the surrounding guards. Her whole body looked as though they just threw her to the asphalt from the van door.  A grimy brown sack covered her head that hung to the floor slightly supported by the shoulder on the ground unnaturally scrunched up by her neck. He could see the raw skin surrounding the bonds tightly wired around her bare wrists. What really unnerved him was the slow unsteady half-rise of her chest every so often. He doesn’t know if it was due to the bag covering her airway or the utterly traumatized state of her body, but it wasn’t hard to tell her lungs were starting to give way. There was no way in Hell she would make it through the plane ride. She needed medical attention and she needed it fast.

The shifting of wheels brought Hawks out of his panic as the aircraft propellers spun around in place,  making the plane go forward ever so slightly. It stopped one it was centered with the doors in the front of the facility. If he slashed his feathers upon them it would surely arm the onlookers. Eyes once again shifted to the body of his dove.

Helpless. He couldn’t make a move without stirring up their attention. And if they threatened her, there wasn’t even a sliver of a chance he would make it in time. 

TING

The sound echoed out from his pocket. The phone vibrated letting out another sound to alert him of a notification. 

Hawks’ heart dropped to the ground as everything around him moved in slow motion. Heads took their time spinning in his direction when in reality they snapped his way in milliseconds. 

He didn’t have time to look at his phone as bullets flew his way. Faster than ever, he took to the air, dodging the oncoming hellfire. Since all was turning to shit, the two cockpit feathers slashed the hell out of the men inside with zero mercy whatsoever. Using some spare feathers he sent them lashing at the tires preventing their second escape. He’d rather be plucked for everything he was worth before letting them get away again, especially not when they were so close.

His earpiece rang to life as he wound through the air. 

“What the fuck is happening” a harsh feminine voice that sounded like Rumi screamed from the other side.

“Shit hit the fan, send help.”

That was all he could say before getting nailed in the right shoulder. Wings stuttered in shock, but adrenaline pushed them to keep flapping. 

“Hawks!” She called.

He could barely hear her through the blazing bullets piercing through the air.

“Heading….. Minutes…… Endeavor…… Way.”

Static cut out sentences leaving him with only a couple of words from the other line. He didn’t have time to decode the meaning though.

In the midst of frantic maneuvering a blast of fire hit the window behind him sending him flying forward as a bullet lodged itself in his right thigh.

“Friendly fire!” He screamed behind him. 

Now shit was really hitting the fan, Hawks thought to himself as he looped through the new hole created by none other than Endeavor. He made his way to the top of the building, the roof partially deflecting some of the ammunition flying at light speed. A new wave of confidence gassed his system with the brigade of heroes quickly approaching from behind.

“I know I annoy you, but do ya really need to fry me right now?”

Endeavor only grunted as he landed next to the winged hero, Rumi was soon to join them. The bullets had ceased to pierce the air for a moment, Hawks could hear the head guy yelling at his underlines like an abusive dog owner. Naturally they tried to retreat to their vehicles, but found the tires were lacerated enough that they were rendered useless. The yell turned into hushed whispers. 

All heroes crowded up onto the roof, hastily devising a plan that would hopefully let them safely extract the beaten girl. Time was ticking fast as two beautiful lives were draining from the mother's body every wasted second. They needed to make a move and they needed to do it now. 

“Fuck plans”

“Hawks don’t be rash” 

Endeavor could get fucked by fire for all Hawks cared. He was going in sending flocks of lethal feathers to shred them while he used the remaining feathers to take to the sky. 

It only escalated from there on. Quirks were activated from both ends, but the heroes had to be careful, they may have the upper hand power wise, but the enemies had a hostage. Hawks could see his dove start to stir among all the commotion, but his attention was quickly redirected as a first sent him flying into a wall.

In the midst of the battle one of the lackey’s managed to discreetly snag [y/n] and a couple of the packages into a small aircraft. All which were messily tossed into the back of the cargo compartment before jumping in the control seat. All engines were a go and it was off to the runway from there, splattering some of his comrades into the pavement on the way. Hawks wasn’t having it though, redirecting all of the feathers slashing around to chase the jet as it wobbled in the sky.

“Your feathers are going to do jackshit, GO!” Rumi encouraged, no longer holding back. 

That was all he needed to hear, as he darted to the air, targeting with pinpoint accuracy.  The door of the storage holder on the side of the jet cracked open. Opening more and more as the pilot tried to steady the plane in the sky. The jet lagged in the sky as it swerved to the side making package after package plummet out. Hawks was tailing the jet, but the pilot kept taking sharp turns to try and lose him. 

Hawks spotted [y/n’s body starting to slip to the edge of the open door. One final turn from the unsteady jet was all it took to send her descending into the air. Hawks immediately dove after her, wings tucking flat to increase his speed, arms stretching out towards her, hands ready to snatch her at the first given chance. 

The ground was approaching uncomfortable fast. [Y/n] was just out of his reach, fingertips brushing against her own. 

His wings gave one last flutter against his back, pushing him just far enough to reach her forearm. Hawks latch his hand onto her arm hauling her into his arms before spreading his scarlet wings in an attempt to catch in the air. A hiss passed his lips as the opposing velocity strained the muscles at the base of his wings. 

Just before the hit the ground Hawks caught his bearings, letting them at least land somewhat safely. He stumbled on the turf, the hand that wasn’t holding [y/n] shot out to the ground where he keeled making sure to not fall over onto her. They landed a mile or so from the gates of the airport. 

BOOM!

Hawks watched as sparks erupted from an explosion a little ways from them. Looks like the poor bastard couldn’t fly after all.

His breath was heaving, the adrenaline of the situation still pumping through his body. Lifting his hand from the ground he untied the rope holding the sack over her head, pulling it off, freeing her beaten face. Scarce breaths passed through her cracked lips. 

Hawks was quick to let the rest know he had her. Endeavor let out a sigh of relief through the otherside of the line. Rumi yelled with happiness. When asking about her condition, he was hesitant to say anything, only saying that he was rushing her to urgent care immediately. 

Weakly she stirred in his arms, whimpering as her bound wrist rubbed the harsh unforgiving rope peeling her already raw skin. Hawks plucked a feather, slashing her wrist and ankle constraints, finally setting her aching limbs free. Tears welled in his eyes, partly because she was now in his arms once again and partly because she was suffering in his arms.

“Shhhhh, baby bird, I’m gonna get you some help okay?” 

He couldn’t tell if she heard him, but he wasn’t going to bother waiting for a reply. Wings spread behind him once more, screaming at him from pure agonizing torture they had already suffered. Limbs burned, fire setting every vein ablaze with even the slightest of moments. 

All it took once one more heart wrenching soft cry passing her lips to get the adrenaline rushing again. No wound or pain could hold him down as he flapped his wings aggressively through the thin air. He kept staggering up to the clouds and low to the ground. It was definitely not his smoothest flight, but it was doing the job. She was held securely in a tight embrace against his chest. One of his hands gently caressed her cheek with the thumb in an attempt to pass her his wordless love. 

Some of the feathers started to give from those once giant eyes. Every feather lost was another piece of [y/n] drifting to the light of eternal rest. She was a rose that was slowly shedding its abused petals, wilting from the mortal world. 

Hawks could see the hospital in his sights, in his moment of overwhelming relief he almost hit the ground, but luckily he was able to bring them both up just in time. 

White doors slammed over as a body crashed onto the hospital lobby tile. The receptionist rushed over to the counter spotting the hero, wings clings around his front to cushion their landing. Looking at the lady in scrubs he lifted one of his wings revealing the beaten woman he cradled to his chest. The lady screamed for help as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A stretcher was brought in as [y/n] was carted into one of the back rooms, nurses flocking the stretcher trying to assess her state. 

A separate stretcher was brought in for him. A light smile graced his face as he watched them take care of her while they hauled him onto the cart. One of the nurses was trying to ask him questions, but he paid them no mind, only watching his dove.

The smile quickly faded as he saw more doctors dash to her room, panicked expressions present on each of their faces. He tried to stay awake, he tried to hear what was going on, but the last thing he heard was a doctor yelling one word that echoed in his ears even as he lost touch with reality.

“CLEAR!”

Then everything went black.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Also I want to thank you all for reading this, it makes me so happy. I literally cried at all the love you all gave the first chapter. I wish I was kidding I actually cried.

TAGS:

@assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest @moonpawss @regularkacchan @austriasmariazelle @murkyrosewrite @hawksexual @imuziawi

[saintwilllem]

FORM YOUR LOVE .

so this is my analysis of both for your love and form of sympathy put into one as they are both of the same world. i am tagging @55bubble as i really want their opinion and thoughts on this but everyone comment / reblog and let me know what you think.  also if you need clarifications on anything please let me know i’ve been writing this half asleep after a hard days of work.  i may also visit  this again as the form of sympathy goes on.

  firstly i don’t know why i didn’t realize this is at first but both  titles  inform the themes and ideas of the comic.  for your love  is basically the story of understanding  love and what it will ask of you .  both moogyeong and yohan  have to see rejections through ( moogyeong his own , yohan his brother’s ) and the way it leaves them feeling to get to the end goal of love because what transpired between moogyeong and junseo was a crush that held him but it didn’t drive depth because it was something he would always try to brush off and hide away from .  yohan on the other hand sees his rejection  through his brother’s unrequited love and what that does is makes him overly cautious and stops him from looking inward and try to drive someone else’s story in hopes that he can be the “fairy-godmother,” this time around.  it isn’t until he looks at moogyeong not as a project but a person and therefore look inward does he realize that moogyeong doesn’t need to evolve its him .  on the other hand form of sympathy is the story of different forms of sympathies .   the main versions of this story branch sympathy from  yuri to his noona ,  to himself , and to sunwoo , goes on to his noona and him ,  and her new family ,  and lastly the real show of that is between   sunwoo toward yuri.  what i find interesting is that sympathy is defined two different ways :  feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune  and  secondly , the understanding between people ; common feeling .  you see both these definitions play into the story.  for example both meanings align with yuri and his noona’s relationship. it starts with sorrow on her misfortune and then becomes a connection between them both .  in the face of yuri and sunwoo their sympathy is still on the first meaning , and were sunwoo feels sorrow , i think yuri after chapter 30 is just starting to leave the stages of pity. 

 both stories are  about unrequited love. yet in for your love it lingers, while in form of sympathy it festers . Within for your love it is put to ease by the way people feeling it behave. moogyeong decides to be quite about his love , in small  part due to fear and another is that he himself isn't a man of big gesture.  he finds himself crashing into yohan who at first wants to break this boundary of fear and smallness  and wants to make it loud and known . he doesn’t get the issue of it because he has seen the aftermath of being rejected first hand and on someone he’s really cared about and he doesn’t want that again.  as i said before is what really  alleviates the pain of seeing junseo with someone else , and mooyeong still thinking about him is the final act of looking inward.  we see yohan clearly state that he loves moogyeong and it isn’t because of his brother or any other grand gesture but the fact that this is a person he feels at peace with and he will do what needs to be done to. improve himself for both of them because he can look at what has to be with peace.  

now with form of sympathy the unrequited are impressed with history that equated to them thinking themselves  fundamentally more important than they really were.  one may question the kindness of noona and how she would always just give herself away to yuri .  she would always let him tag along , she would come to his school when he was in trouble , she cared for him at the funeral of her parents when she should have been taken care of . i am of the catagory that she gave him so much because she felt for him as having love taken from you but also because she may have felt that she had to give yuri a mother figure to thank his mother for doing that for her and the way she thought of him.   and so what i think this has done is open a feeling of over importance inside of yuri  in which he believes that he is her center and that she is his , inside of her being a line that stands next to him and up lifts him.  this has made him cruel , because he feels unbalanced  and he uses sunwoo as his target because his history with his brother in law leaves parts of him on sunwoo and also because he can’t fully go after his brother in law because that would hurt noona.  sunwoo is someone he has power over not just because he knows his feelings and has been used as a substitute for them but also because of who they are to each other. they will always have the dynamic of student and teacher over them  but the fact is that this isn’t school , its real life and yuri has opened up the darkest corners of sunwoo and taken control of them from the dinner with alll four of them , to just being a needle that pricks sunwoo during their working together.  yet in the last few chapters of season one we see a flip of power or rather we see sunwoo and his guidance starting to tug at yuri .  now the  history between brother in law and sunwoo is also simillar to that of  yuri and noona because they also were just rhust into each other lives, and it seems like sunwoo created something out of brother in law that wasn’t there. i don’t remember if we get any really background into their relationship besides brother in law joining the movie club out on a  whim and sunwoo just tied himself into  him . and i think that its the same reason as to why yuri did it with noona and that is personality and how they made them feel.  mooyeong did not make junseo his center but yuri and sunwoo did with the people they liked and that is why they are spiraling . one in rage and the other into depression. 

what i also find interesting is that the injury sunwoo has is one on the hand. what makes this interesting is what a hand does is grab on to things .  a hand emits a start as in hand shakes , it holds on to and lifts a person , and also puts out the emotions one is feeling either on themselves or others.  so in having his hand injured sunwoo is basically trapped.  he cannot in metaphoric ideas pull himself out , nor can he go on to express any other emotions because not only is his injury onto his hand physically but it is also emotional in that it is hands the acted upon yuri and marked him as the brother in law when he knew he wasn’t , so his hand is both what ties him to yuri ,  drowns him in  the past  and stops him being able to heal. 

characters that can be imposed upon another through both stories 

yohan and yuri 

mooyeong and sunwoo 

junseo and brother in law

noona and yohan’s brother 

yohan and yuri are not just the main characters , they also both go through an arc of bewilderment , self-loathing , and isolation.  they are both haunted by their actions, yuri in how he has been behaving around his noona , and yohan how he has around mooyeong.  with his noona yuri latched on to her kindness and made into his life in that it is the  one thing to which he couldn’t be angry at because it gave to him without demanding but at the cost of him not being able to form other relationships purely because he locked his noona into an image of something for him.  but yohan instead of that had to drag out his insides and put them into their place.  he had to learn that what he knows is not enough . that what he has seen of himself in view of his family does not make him , nor does his brothers pain belong to him as he has been cared by him. yohan strikes back and decides to evolve, yuri decides to drown and devolve 

mooyeong and sunwoo are both teachers , sunwoo teaches geography and mooyeong tutors. they both have unrequited loves but what they do with it as i’ve mentioned before is quite different. one can assume that both lack the character to act with big gestures and that is why they both lose out on their loves. but if you look at mooyeong i dont believe that he is an overly emotional character in that unlike sunwoo he does not add romantic gestures to the idea of teaching and by this i do not mean that he is going on talking about love within his teaching but he has these big ideas of what students are like and how diverse they are and how troubled they maybe.  mooyeong keeps his head on pushing his students academically and he does feel but he does not center himself around the bursts of emotions he does feel. instead he reason with him because he knows that a love that isn’t spoken is better than a love that is spoken and then mocked / spurned and thats his struggle with yohan at first. while sunwoo is basically  of the measure that a love unspoken / unreturned puts a hit on a relationship . it ends it and does nothing but makes it painful and he keeps wanting to run away from what he had unlike mooyong and it something that cuts him because its a mark that says i was wrong , i am wrong and i will keep being wrong in many sense. 

now junseo is the kinder of the two. he might be a bit careless, a bit naive and clueless , but he does not insert himself into mooyeong’s life beyond the areas of the club and common decency.  he isn’t like the brother in law who keeps trying to put himself into sunwoo’s life from the calls to the mention of a gift and him asking him for help.  he feels that his place isn’t to force a way into mooyeong’s life and be a door that keeps opening letting him in and then kicking him out and i think its part of the reason why  this relationship was able to grow out  better than that of the one sunwoo and the brother in love have. also the brother in law remembers everything wrong about what happened between them and it something that breaks sunwoo under the issue of him thinking himself important but realzing that he wasn’t really anything because even friends remember things they did with another.  it enforces the idea that the club and sunwoo were but things to collect and play around with rather than value and hold with respect as junseo and mooyeong. he kind of tagged on top of sunwoo without the consideration of exactly what was required between them because as he came by the club by chance so did he sunwoo. 

With hyung and noona its a story of two people who are both the catalysts for the traits a characther decides to possess. From jealousy and agony in yuri, to fear and learning in yohan these two are the parental figures they never had but also become the ones they give up a lot of themselves for. Yohan decides to be the opposite of his brother and go after unrequited loves for others, yuri feels guilty for being so attached to his noona he has to isolate himself because her happiness should have been his as her kindness was his. If not for the conversation hyung and yohan had after being caught in his intimacy with mooyeong I don't think yohan would have really put aside his brother's pain and take a full leap into his relationship. Where on the other hand always being with noona and thinking her as a small little thing who got eaten up by a big bad wolf and having to converse with someone who doesn't really express their own feelings has kept yuri from really evolving and thats why he crashes against sunwoo so badly because even his first sister and her aggression is a mask out of what their parents have made them.

Now I love thar yohan has his dreams and yuri the train tracks. What the dreams show is that yohan is looking inside himself and is changing. The dreams symbolize his faults, from his ego on the surface hides a low self worth and mooyeong always becomes his consciousness which fires back at him as both the face of the wanted and his failings to achieve it because he is at a loss of self because he thinks to what he witnessed than what has to be.

The train tracks are a slow way of travel. The train goes and stops and you can only follow it. Yuri's facing sunwoo decides that this is his destination. That the pathway to his own salvation is the man he crashes into to seek the falling of his rival. The crash reassembles into guidance and guidance into freedom and so he drops the rope and build a slow way for him to reach peace. Also unlike yohan he has to look outward instead of inward

So this gas gotten really long, and so i say goodbye here until later when I have more to say and more time to do so.

[pastelchris]

shotgun.

PAIRING: jeon jeongguk x kim taehyung

GENRE: heavy angst.

WARNINGS: major character death, mention of blood, mention of weapons, cursing, mention of wounds and heavy heavy angst.

author’s note: hi!! i’m back with something different this time! i’ll keep it short because it’s almost midnight and i have school tomorrow. i’ve had this story in my notes for years now, it’s one of the first i’ve ever written and today since i didn’t have the strength to write something new, i decided it was time for her to be translated! so here she his, just something i couldn’t stop thinking about after watching not today’s mv for the first time. the pure wave of panic in jeongguk’s eyes when he hears the shotguns and turns around has been in my mind since 2017. said that, i hope you’ll enjoy this as much as i did when i wrote it!

ashes and snow mixed with each other, becoming one, as they slowly fell back on the boy’s pitch black locks and sweat dripping face of jeongguk, hiding behind a car, the rifle well clasped in his hands, ready to be used.

that was going to be the final match,

they had sent him the live coordinates, and the team had immediately left to the suburbs, armed from head to toe, determined to capture once and for all the gang that had been haunting their city for months now.

click.

in the silence of the night, light up only by the moon and the streetlights, as well as the various led lights of the abandoned building, the sound of a weapon being loaded echoed.

jeongguk clawed his ears, indicating the others to follow him, flattening against the vehicle, he begun to walk to the source of noise, stepping out in the parking lot in front of the building, whom was completely empty If not for a single figure, quietly dangling in the middle of nowhere, a gun in his right hand and a red hair band between his ashy blonde hair, locks comfortably falling on his eyes and cheekbones, he looked like the most dangerous of angels.

he had always been like this, as far as jeongguk could recall, his aurea would make the most turn their gazes away, they feared him, and yet were so fascinated by the presence of that tall, beautiful creature, radiating such confidence and power, there were rumors going around the campus that a gaze of his would be enough to light you up and leave nothing but ashes behind his back once he was gone.

as their eyes met, jeongguk felt the ground under his feet almost disappearing;

that look of his had been the cause of his destruction, so deep and expressive, seemed to be constantly staring into his soul.

he saw him grin, perfectly conscious of the positions of his, and jeongguk’s allies.

the dark haired turned around, stumbling into a bundle of pink locks, none other than his first officer and best friend.

« jesus, jimin! » he hissed,

« Quick, go to the other side, we’ll take care of this mess, take seokjin with you, if the situation gets complicated here, come back, if not, stay there, got me? »

jimin nodded before slipping silently in the night, side to side with the oldest, who took a last glance at jeongguk before he disappeared into the darkness.

once he was sure that they had obeyed his order, the raven haired returned to pay attention to the figure, which in the meantime was looking at his nails, waiting for some sign of him, which didn't come, forcing him to speak.

« damn jeongguk, years of living together and you won't even say hello? »

he flicked the tongue on the roof of his mouth, disappointed, as he added:

« have they not taught you manners? or did a cat feast with your tongue? yet when we were together, you’d always have so many things to say....» he let out a short laugh, no hilarity, and then went back to looking at him, eyes lost into the darkness of the parking lot.

« well then I'll have to teach you everything again i guess. »

and from there it was complete chaos.

his comrades came out from the shadow, hair bands in head and guns in hands, they started shooting.

being repaid by the policemen, who jumped out of the cars, the black bullet vests dirty of snow and ashes and the guns ready tightly between the hands.

but taehyung wanted him,

and he wouldn't waste his bullets on anyone else.

there he was, standing there in the corner, leaning over a car, he waited for jeongguk to arrive, who didn't delay to please him, popping out of the car, his dark eyes on the oldest, who stared back with an excited, curious look in his ones, like a young sherlock holmes who was presented a stimulating case after months of withdrawal.

jeongguk armed the gun, ready to fire, sweat was dripping on his face, from the forehead where dark hair stick, to his chin, biting down his cold lips, he closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the situation, he dissociated by reality for a couple of minutes;

as he came back to his senses, he froze to the spot, taking in the sudden silence around him.

as he suddenly came back to reality, dropping his weapon, starting to turn around, he realized that he was alone, his mates, twenty, twenty-five brave men like him, were laying down in pools of blood that dyed with crimson red the pearly white snow.

at that moment, chest quickly rising and falling and head spinning around,

he thought that if the expression "the sky fell on him" really existed, then by then he would’ve already been dead under the weight of the dark deep sky.

he fell down on his knees, hot tears making their way from his burning eyes to his dirty cold cheeks, followed by sobs, which gradually turned into a rag, then into a scream.

he screamed until his throat started to ache, until he felt like he had no more voice to let out, tearing the nocturne silence apart.

once he recovered a little bit of lucidity, getting a hold of himself, he looked up, eyes full of hatred, towards the blonde boy, who was already looking at him, feeling almost sympathy for that child who had just lost his entire team.

he approached him, kindly laid the barrel of the gun under his chin, followed by one hand on his shoulder.

taehyung lifted his face with the weapon, causing their noses to touch, he gulped, conscious that what he was about to do would only complicate the situation, but unable to hold back.

he softly laid his lips on jeongguk’s, capturing them in a kiss that soon led to despair and anger, leaving the younger in a total state of confusion;

jeongguk felt ashamed, he felt absolutely an ass as he kissed the other back, choosing to forget for a second everything that was going on around them.

taehyung’s lips still tasted the same, they weren’t sweet, nothing of his was except for his face; it was more as if a lightning bolt just fell over him, it gave him goosebumps and made him feel free; taehyung had this power over him, of making jeongguk feel like the freest of people, it made everything seem possible, even the most far things.

jeongguk sighed into the other’s lips

returning to when they were two completely normal high school kids, to when they were on the same side and their biggest problem was what movie they were going to see at the cinema on the weekend.

he closed his eyes, letting the other swallow him into the kiss, feeling tears stain his cheeks with their transparent, warm liquid.

he thought that if that was his end, then it could have been way worse.

click.

the magical aura of that moment was abruptly ripped out by a hiss, followed by a whisper, then blood.

jungkook's arms trembled, stretching out with around the older, trying to hold him, face crossed by the panic of someone who had never faced that situation, not on his skin.

he started calling for help without realizing, embracing the blonde's body in his arms, who in the meantime was looking at him through his eyelashes, face contracted in pain.

he stretched his hand out over jeongguk’s cheek, wiping out a tear, then turned it down to his lips, releasing them from his teeth.

« j-jeez, how many times have I told you to not to bite your lips? you're just gonna ruin them. »

his voice put some lucidity back in jeongguk, who shifted his gaze back over him, grimace getting slowly replaced by a slight smile.

« good boy. »

the dark haired tried to speak, but not a sound came out, leaving him hanging on a painful sigh, while the sirens of the police could be heard in the distance, he was unable to think of anything else except the body that was growing colder and heavier in his arms, staining him with musky red blood.

« t-taehyung?» he said, voice high key shaking, receiving a positive sign from the other, who slightly nodded, struggling to let out any words over the growing pain.

« yeah gguk, im pretty sure that’s my name. can you /please/ smile for me? i deserve it, don't I? if I am to die, I want to take your beautiful smile to the afterlife.»

but jeongguk couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't smile, he chuckled off a sob as he felt him grab his hand and lay it on his chest.

he saw him look up on the night sky before speaking once more, his voice reduced to a flexible whisper.

« Isn't she beautiful?»

the younger looked up, meeting the presence of the moon, who looked at them quietly from the dark sky.

he nodded, charmed.

« yes... yes, it is, it is beautiful. »

he unconsciously put his head on the older’s chest - growing colder and colder by the seconds - he crouched by his side, grasping him as if his own life depended from it.

his chin started trembling and silent tears wet the fabric that was completely red on which his head was laying.

he felt the older’s heartbeat slowing down over and over and over, until it became almost an imperceptible sound.

then every noise stopped, the moment the blond parted his blueish lips, letting one last word out, which he had taught to him the full meaning years before, and that had been suspended between them for years.

« i love you. »

and he died.

quietly, while the battle was raging around them, and jeongguk cried silently, without knowing that in the distance there were other people doing the same thing, including namjoon, who had been for years like a father to taehyung, and couldn't stand to lose him like that, along with hoseok and yoongi, who, respectively, sobbed and watched the scene, cheeks wet and burning eyes.

and so, on that cold night of february, the moon became silent viewer of the massacre, whose worst loss was without doubt the love of two boys, the victim of fate, as unpredictable as cruel.

a week later.

he looked in the mirror, fixing his tuxedo and the last buttons of his shirt, sticking his jacket and fixing his tie.

jeongguk sighed, passing his long finger over his eye bags, a memory from the previous heavy and tiring week.

he sighed, repeating an encouraging mantra in his head, hoping it would work.

« come one jeongguk, you can do this, you have to do it.»

then he came out, finding, parked over the gate, seokjin’s black car and the latter, which slightly waved at him, followed by jimin’s wide encouraging smile, the pink hair combed with gel.

« come on, gguk, we'll be late!»

seokjin started the car, not even waiting for the other to fasten his belt, heading to the cemetery.

he had the smart idea of putting on some music, distracting the younger from all the thoughts that were nagging him, making that journey unfairly carefree.

he parked silently in front of the dark gate, removing the keys from the car and getting out, followed by the pink one and at last by jeongguk, who, a little reluctantly, abandoned the tepor of the car to dive into the cold air of March, slipping his hands into the pockets and locking the car, reaching with a few falcats the entrance of the cemetery, observing the two colleagues who, having preceded him, were already halfway across the street confabiling each other.

he got lost looking at all the plates covered by ivy, climbing to the trees, without realizing he'd reached his destination.

to wake him from his thoughts, it was the sudden appearance of three other figures, as elegant as them, who were approaching him, the bandana replaced by a fancy hairstyles held in place with gel.

« thank you for coming.»

the tallest of the three, what jeongguk remembered being namjoon, gave him a brief look, full of meaning, before he joined seokjin and jimin, followed by the guy with mint hair, yoongi, and the one with red fire-locks, hoseok.

they sat there in silence waiting for the seventh component to arrive, which jeongguk found himself carrying, head in the line, gulping heavily as he tried to hold himself together until they reached the freshly made hole, in which the mahogany coffin would’ve been buried in a matter of minutes.

at that point, tightened in their suits, the six boys, too young to go through all that, melted into sobbing and crying, leaving jeongguk alone with his thoughts.

251228

the snow was gently falling on the rooftops of the city, decorated by coloured lights and christmas carols, who accompanied jeongguk, held tight in his black coat, to the place which he visited every christmas.

he kneeled next to the marmorean plate, cleaning it out of snow and laying a deck of black roses, the rarest ones he could find, and their favorite from day one.

he gulped, squeezing in his jumper.

« hi.»

jeongguk breathed in. it was always as hard as the first time.

« long time no see? i guess. i actually see you everyday, everywhere, everytime i close my eyes you’re there, smiling at me, teasing me, and more than everything, gasping for air between my arms.

jeongguk spoke up, voice getting louder by the seconds.

« jesus christ i fucking miss you alright? yeah you’d say, of course i do! of course you already know right? as if i hadn’t been telling you the same thing for over than eight year...funny. it’s just that...jeez it’s not easy to stop missing someone, and i just...i just can stop missing you, it’s feel like a crime to wake up and not think about you first as i wait before opening my eyes... oh baby i’m a wreck without you, can’t you see? i need you here to stay, i need you here again, and it hurts so fucking much sometimes i’d rather not wake up, even if it meant dreaming of your pale skin and blueish eyes. darling when i’m fast asleep i see this person watching me...saying, is it worthy? well damn i don’t know anymore. there is something and there is nothing in between and in my eyes i only see you, and everytime i try to embrace you you disappear and it’s getting so hard to bear--» he gasped for air, breathing in and out slowly to try and calm himself down.

« are you you enjoying yourself there right now? do you have a family? did you find someone to share your destiny with? i hope so, because, you see, I tried, I have a family now, of course, it's not like having you, but you have to settle sometimes, right?» he sighed, feeling stupid. « jesus....remember that promise we made ourselves? that we would walk together to the end, well, here I am, even if you can't answer me, I am here walking next to you... Merry Christmas taehyung, i...i love you, i still fucking love you so much and it’s killing me day by day.»

gulping, he rose up, dusting the snow from his knees and walking to the gate, tears prickling in his eyes and chest painfully rising up with every breath he took.

he started sobbing, hiding his face behind the sleeves of his coat as he walked away, unaware of a figure who had watched him from behind a tree the whole time, his translucent lips bent over a blurry smile, eyes full of imaginary tears of those who had never stopped dreaming, of those who had never stopped loving.

[henshengs]

Hunger Games AU, part 3

Warning that this part gets a lot darker. Specific content warning for disassociation and violence. But hey, the third corner of our love triangle’s finally here!

part one

part two

His prep team is impressed with him, with his smooth skin and soft long hair and rounded nails. They wash and trim his hair and paint his face and exclaim over his beauty, and Meng Yao focuses on breathing, on breathing and drifting away from his body because control is everything but sometimes the only way to maintain a shred of it is to let go, to not be present. He smiles at them, his automatic smile, his mother’s smile, his servant’s smile, his whore’s smile, and they hook their fingers into his dimples and tell him he is so pretty, such an interesting change from Chifeng-zun.

He knew that this was coming. He reminds himself that he would sacrifice far more, to get what he wants. That he will in all likelihood have to sacrifice everything, before the end. He lies on a pallet and its softness and comfort leave him horrifically vulnerable. He lies there and he is not in Nightless City and he is not in Yunmeng. He is nowhere, he tells himself. He is no one.

They give him a gray robe to wear that is soft and warm, and he wraps himself in it, and he is left alone for an entire luxurious minute before his stylist enters. She is a sharp woman, professional, and she looks him up and down like a cattle broker examining a potential purchase.

“I wasn’t expecting a Nie competitor like you, but I’ve had a few hours to adjust,” she tells him frankly. “The girl will be echoing Chifeng-zun. Beast head pauldrons, powerful silhouette, platforms in her shoes. For you we’ll be going for a contrast. Feminine, delicate, but still dangerous. Seductive.”

It’s what he’s been expecting to hear- what he’s even been hoping to hear, because it’s something he can work with- but it still hits him with a wave of nausea and panic. He breathes through it. Nods. He should be establishing a rapport with her- cajoling her into revealing information about the political situation inside Qishan- but instead he’s useless, crippled by his fears.

“Well,” she says. “I already knew from the cameras that you could do wide-eyed. Can you give me something with a bit more spice?”

Meng Yao breathes out, and hears his heartbeat thud in his ears. Then he slides a sly smile onto his face. Tilts his head up slowly, looks sidelong through his lashes.

“Very good,” the stylist says approvingly.

They paint his face with white powders, and paint his lips with red rouge as dark as dried blood. They wrap him in tight robes of dark gray, with snakeskin panels, and they take out the braid Nie Huaisang plaited that morning and redo it coiled tighter against his topknot. When they show him a mirror he’s terrified he’ll see his mother’s face in it. To his relief he doesn’t. His mother always played the role of the refined noble lady, a pearl cast into the mud. She was never an alluringly dangerous seductress.

The most disturbing part is he almost likes it. The face in the mirror is a mask, but it’s a mask that won’t be expected to bow and scrape and meekly accept abuse. In that sense it’s a better mask than the one he wears in Qinghe.

Meng Yao also likes the expression on Nie Mingjue’s face when he barges into the room. It’s half rage and half desire, and the combination makes Meng Yao’s heart race. But then he remembers that this mask is not his creation, that it is not meant to serve him.

Too bad. He’ll take it and make it his own. That’s better than wanting to peel off his own skin.

“What are you doing with him,” Nie Mingjue growls.

The stylist, apparently a brave woman, glares at him. “Making him desirable,” she says. “It’s his best chance at winning. You say he’s not high in cultivation or physical aptitude.”

Meng Yao feels his cheeks burn, though it’s the honest truth.

“People will sponsor him because they want the pretty one to win,” the stylist says. “I guarantee it. And sponsors are his only chance in the arena.”

They aren’t. But Meng Yao isn’t going to let anyone know that until he has to.

“You never needed to do this to me,” Mingjue says angrily.

“I made everyone afraid of you,” the stylist says. “They liked that. People like being a little afraid of things that can’t really hurt them. But they like being aroused even more.”

“Nie-zongzhu,” Meng Yao says quickly. He reaches out and puts his hand lightly on Mingjue’s arm, looking up at him through his lashes. “I don’t mind.”

“You should,” Nie Mingjue says, snorting. “You shouldn’t let yourself get taken advantage of like this.”

She’s helping me, Meng Yao wants to shout, which is more than you’ve done so far. Instead he smiles, not the smile he will use tonight at the parade but the nervous smile he uses as punctuation.

“You trusted me with your look, last year, and you won,” the stylist says coaxingly. “Trust me now. You want him to survive this, don’t you?”

Nie Mingjue grunts. Meng Yao can see, on his face, the great weight that he is wrestling with. The reality it will break him to accept: that doing everything in his power to help Meng Yao win will mean leaving Zonghui to die. Of course this breaks him; he’s a man of honor, that’s what Meng Yao has always- what Meng Yao admires about him. But right now Meng Yao wants to scream at him, beg him to choose me, tell me you want me to win, tell me I should kill everyone if it brings me back to you.

Mingjue says nothing.

Zonghui looks good, when they’re both hustled into the swooping glass elevator together. Meng Yao allows himself a moment to be impressed. He and Zonghui are about the same height and almost the same shape, but the team has managed to make her look bulky, strong, intimidating, the muscles of the Qinghe beast where Meng Yao is the claws. The Red Blade Master wore shades of gray, as Meng Yao does now; Zonghui is dressed in black, and it gives her an extra edge, makes up a little bit for the killing aura she lacks. Her face is stony, cold as ice. Meng Yao practices his smile in the dark reflection of the elevator glass. Outside the night is just a blur of colors as the elevator slides down.

At the bottom of the pavilion, in a dark garage that stinks of oil and manure, the carriages wait. Meng Yao has not seen horses this close before; the Nies keep some, as one of their many traditions, but they’re purely ceremonial and Meng Yao’s duties never brought him close to the stables. The horses that will pull the Qinghe carriage are black as Zonghui’s leather and huge, monstrously powerful-looking beasts. They are beautiful. He has a frivolous and inappropriate momentary desire to get closer, to stroke their smooth skin and braided manes. He folds his hands across his stomach and looks around, instead, squinting into a hot draft blowing from somewhere. The lighting is low in the garage, and most of the illumination comes from the burning torches affixed to the carriages. Most of the other sects’ carriages have already exited the pavilion garage and joined the parade. In front of the Qinghe carriage, he can see the Jiang one, and something about it grabs at his attention. It’s hard to tell in the colorless dark world of the garage, but one silhouette is very pale and the other very dark, with a blood red streak of color. The figures are clinging to each other, and that makes him uncomfortable enough to turn away and look behind him.

And he feels his eyes widen and his jaw go slack, because after Qinghe comes Lan, he knew this, but he didn’t expect to see-

In the darkness it’s hard to make out details, but the Lan carriage looks as beautifully wrought as any other year. The figures being forced onto it, however, are unusual in the extreme. They’re both very tall; this is apparent even though one of them is clearly limping, moving with the stiff control of someone in intense pain. Despite the injury, both move with a sense of dignity and command that screams at Meng Yao to pay attention.

And his instinct is right, because behind him he hears a hoarse, “Xichen?!”

Meng Yao lunges for Nie Mingjue, but he’s brushed off like one would bat away a fly. The Wen disciples prodding the Lan competitors (prisoners, Meng Yao’s brain insists, as though they’re not all prisoners), are not so easily pushed aside. They have electroshock weapons. They have batons. Baxia has been chained in a locked box ever since Nie Mingjue exited the competition arena. His cultivation has been sealed since he entered Nightless City. He is armed only with his fists.

Meng Yao watches Mingjue go down. Stay down, he thinks, but he knows that Nie Mingjue won’t. He can’t see the faces of the Wen disciples but he can see their arms lifting to deliver another blow, another shock. Is it Nie Mingjue on the ground, spitting defiant blood, or is it his mother, cowering from another blow? Is it a Cultivation Competitor standing here in this dark garage, or a child frozen at the foot of the stairs?

Later, he doesn’t remember deciding to move. It simply happens. He is simply on the ground, Mingjue somewhere behind him, and pain is happening. There’s almost a weird relief to it. He is familiar with pain. He is practiced. He doesn’t struggle, doesn’t think, just lets it happen as his body seizes and something cracks.  

Someone is screaming. Someone is lifting him gently off the ground. He recognizes the hands holding him by the shoulders. “Nie-zongzhu,” he murmurs, eyes still screwed tightly closed against assault, but the attacks have stopped, though the pain has not.

“Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue mutters, and it sounds so- so heartbroken, as though- as though he didn’t know- how could he not know? How could he- Meng Yao’s thoughts skip on a loop-

-the two Lan heirs are here, the two Lan heirs are competitors, and they are obviously not willing volunteers, and competitors have never been obviously injured before a competition before. The Wens don’t care any more and that means that things are starting and he is hundreds of miles away from Qinghe, away from Huaisang, with no way of finding out what might be happening there- Qinghe isn’t ready- he thought he was doing the right thing-

-if the Wen disciples have broken something serious inside him, staying alive in the arena is going to be problematic-

-the person screaming is his stylist, his brain finally tells him, she’s shouting something at the thugs about his face being worth a thousand of theirs-

-two years in Nie Mingjue’s bed and Nie Mingjue didn’t know that Meng Yao loved him-

-one of his rival competitors is Lan Xichen, and Nie Mingjue will never, ever tell Meng Yao that he wants him to win, and mean it.

[xillveart]

My Queen

Hi, yes, I’ve basically written an entire fic here because I literally couldn’t help myself.  For real, I probably could have easily made this into a whole multi chapter fic but... ah well. ╮(╯∀╰)╭

Thank you so much for the request, I had fun and I hope you like it!

Words: 4760 Rating: Explicit

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Under the cut~

Bakugou let out a heavy sigh as he stood, the cold air fogging up his breath and blocking field of vision for a moment. He wasn’t cold, but he could tell the human woman that laid near him was. She was trembling so violently that he could have sworn he could hear her teeth clattering, even though she continuously denied anything. He wasn’t sure why, as he had lived with her long enough to know exactly what she was thinking without her having to say a single word. “Just tell me what the hell is wrong with you so I can deal with it, you stupid human. Your teeth chattering is so damn annoying.”

Looking up at him, the woman pulled the fur blanket around her body tighter, the pink flushing of her cheeks giving away her embarrassment at being caught. “I-I apologize, My Lord, I’m just… A little cold. It’s the first snow of the year, so I suppose I’m still not quite used to it.”

“Odd, considering you’re from the North.” Bakugou took a second to secure a blade to his hip and shrug on his red cape, ignoring the tickling of the fur around his ears. “Don’t you have worse winters than this?”

“Yes, there are, but after being down here where it’s so warm all the time it’s… difficult to get used to again. I’m sorry for being a nuisance, but… would you be willing to get some warmer bedding?”

“That’s where I’m going. If you freeze to death, then your entire time and purpose here would be all for nothing.” His crimson glare locked onto her, able to see her so clearly in the darkness. She was so beautiful, flushed and looking up at him with innocent interest. He wanted to be the one to crawl into bed with her, to hold her body close and warm her himself, but he could not. Growing frustrated, he left the confines of his temporary home, trudging through the snow to the supply depot at the far end of the camp. Many people in his way bowed and greeted him as their leader, but he paid little to no attention to any of them.

Bakugou’s mind was elsewhere. More specifically, it was on the woman he had left in his home. Nearly a year she had been with him now, and things seemed to be turning in his favor. One of the many princesses from a large territory in the North, she had been chosen by both him and her family to be his, well… just his. Bakugou had many women at his disposal back in his fortress, all awaiting for him to return from his journey to retrieve this new woman. It was a long one, all the way across the continent both by foot and in the skies atop dragons. Bakugou would never make such a long trip just to get another woman merely for pleasure, however.

She was much more important than that. Having admired her from childhood, the young lord had been promised a princess from this territory back then, and when the time came, he chose her. The woman had fought it at first, as expected, refusing to go with him. They may had been friends as children, but she had grown to hate who he had become. A ruthless warrior, conquering lands, killing and doing whatever he pleased with his power. Being half dragon had an affect on him, filling him with a nearly unquenchable rage and lust for power that he couldn’t subside.

That was why she was here. She was his piece of the Northern lands that he couldn’t obtain through war, giving him both peace and control over a decently sized piece of territory. All he had to do now was gain her affections. There were many times along this journey that he had tried to court her, only to be rejected over and over again. He knew that she was pure, that everything he wanted was new and frightening to her. Still, no matter how badly he wanted her, his honor kept him grounded. He refused to force himself on her. He may be rude, brash, and just a brute in general, but to a woman than he truthfully had deep affections for, he would never do anything to harm her.

Sure, he had to keep her under constant supervision at first so she wouldn’t flee, and even had to keep her tethered to a chain, but that was no more. It seemed that, by now, she realized that he wasn’t going to treat her like a pile of useless trash. He took care of her, as he had always planned to, though adjusting to each other's personalities was a different matter. She was more on the shy, timid side, though there were times when she could easily snap back at him with a witty comment that would surprise him. She seemed to be able to handle his brash personality well enough, and just her presence was enough to calm him, so it was very rare that he lost his patience with her.

In truth, Bakugou just wanted her to love him, to be his wife without any sense of resentment or unhappiness. That’s why he was willing to wait for her to adjust, to be comfortable with him enough to want him as he did her. Perhaps tonight, with the chill that permeated the usually tropical forests they resided in, he would make a bit of progress. She had looked at him with such an intense interest before he left, with a soft and almost lustful look in her eye. He probably just imagined it, spurred on by his own thoughts of wanting to kiss those soft and delicate lips.

So lost in his own thoughts, Bakugou hadn’t even noticed he was home again until he found himself having to shuffle the pelts and blankets to his other arm to open up the flap of their large, multi roomed tent that made up their temporary home. With the weather that had settled in, they were grounded until the upcoming blizzard cleared, not wanting to fly with the high winds. It had been a couple of days at this point with no hint of reprieve, but it wasn’t like he minded all that much. He liked it, in fact, as he gave him time alone with his woman to… bond? That seemed like the right word, at least.

Stopping at the entrance, Bakugou listening for a moment, finding that he could hear nothing but the wind outside. But, he could smell her, which told him she was still inside, waiting his return in the back room. Something seemed… different. Her scent was stronger, his heightened senses from his bloodline able to pick up even the slightest changes in his environment.

Being experienced with women told him exactly what it was. It was the scent of arousal, one which he had been able to pick up on from her many times in the last few weeks. The most recent was just a few days ago, when he had taken her hand to help her stand, and he could have sworn he could smell it on her fingers. Is that what her intense gaze had been about? Had she wanted him to leave so she could pleasure herself?

Curious, he quietly walked closer to the entrance of the backroom, having to hold his breath as the scent began to overwhelm him. It was paired with soft gasps and sighs of pleasure, which instantly brought an intense heat to Bakugou’s chest. It flared through his cheeks and burned the tips of his ears, clutching tightly onto the pelts in his grasp as he tried to control the urge to barge in there. Although it was turning him on like nothing he had ever experienced, he couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed. All this time he had tried to court her, to pleasure her in any way possible, and she had shut herself off ever time. Yet here she was, touching herself while he was away.

It was odd, though, that she would choose to do such a thing when he would only be gone a few minutes. Out hunting when he would be gone for hours? Sure, he could see that. But this wasn’t a situation where she should have felt safe enough to get away with it without being caught. Maybe that’s what she wanted? Maybe she wanted to be caught, to be put into such a predicament that would lead them to who knows where. It was probably easier that way, so that she couldn’t use the excuse that she wasn’t interested in such things.

“Mm… K-Katsuki…”

The heat that was in his chest spread through his entire body the instant he heard his first name slip so sensually from her lips. Never before had she called him by first name, that slightly stubborn nature of hers refusing to give in to drop formalities. She was fantasizing about him, the very thought making his blood boil with passion and lust. He wanted her, badly, and as he panting grew louder he knew he had to take this chance before she ended up cumming. Interrupting her before she could finish would be the perfect chance to peak her interest and attraction to him.

Sly smirk crossing his lips, he dropped the pelts down loudly onto the ground, hearing her quickly gasp and struggle to cover herself. He pulled open the curtain just as she got the blanket back into place, though she was still breathing heavily and her cheeks were flushed dark red. “A-ah, Bakugou, you scared me.”

“Did I? Were you sleeping?” Holding the flap open, he pushed the pelts and blankets into the room with his foot, letting it close behind him once fully inside. “I thought I heard you call me.”

Her face only flushed darker, quickly giving a shake of her head. The guilt was plain on her face, and he could see shuffling about under the blanket, as if she were trying to fix her shift back into place. “N-No, I didn’t, you must have been… imagining it.”

“I don’t think so.” Bakugou moved to stand in front of her, squatting down with his elbows resting on his thighs. Clasping his hands together, he observed her face closely, having to use every ounce of his self control to not pounce on her that instant. Her scent was driving him wild, as was that flushed, embarrassed and guilty expression she carried so well. “Do you think I can’t tell?”

“W-what?” She clutched the blanket closer to her chest, revealing her bare feet. Her toes curled in a bit as his crimson glare moved down to them, though she didn’t try to hide them. “I was just--”

“Touching yourself. While moaning my name. I think you’re, uh… Hiding shit from me, hm? And here I thought you didn’t want me.”

“N-no, that’s not--” She quickly cut herself off, biting down onto her lip as if to punish herself for speaking without thinking. “I… I don’t know what I want. I always thought that I was so sure that I didn’t want anything to do with you, but…” Her eyes began to tear up a bit, obviously frustrated with her own emotions. “But you’ve only treated me badly when I acted up… when I deserved it, for acting like a… what did you call me the those first weeks?”

“A twat.”

“So foul… But it’s true. I acted horribly, when you were actually trying to be… decent to me. And these last couple of weeks or so I’ve just… Been driving myself crazy thinking about you. About us.”

“You can just say you’re ready to fuck me, you know. There’s no need to be so prissy and proper.” Unable to resist touching her, he took one of her feet into his hands, a bit surprised at how ice cold it was. She didn’t resist him, not even as he placed a kiss on the delicate skin of her ankle, holding her leg in place with one hand while the other slowly slid up her legs, displacing the blanket until it fell away behind her knee.

“You’re so vulgar.” She moved to sit up a bit, propping herself up with her arms. “How can I be so attracted to such a filthy mouthed person?”

“You tell me, Princess.” Bakugou smirked against her skin, his hand sliding up her inner thigh. “How can such a delicate, well mannered and proper woman of Royalty fall for someone as rough and belligerent as myself.” As her legs closed from obvious nervousness at his wandering hands, he instead shifted his body closer, grabbing the blanket and tossing it off of her scantily clad body.

“I suppose,” she began, struggling to speak properly behind her heavy breathing as her need for him began to truly take over. “It truly doesn’t matter. All I know is that you drive me crazy. You make my heart race and I have butterflies any time you’re near me. Just your touch is enough to melt me.” With a tender touch, she caressed his cheeks, her words rattling about in Bakugou’s head like bees. In truth, it was her that was melting him. He was completely wrapped around her little finger, all she had to do was say the word and he would take her.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking much I want you.” He growled against her lips, finding that she was quite adept at merely teasing the thought of letting him kiss her. “I want you to be mine. To be my wife. If you want me, too, then let me have you.”

“What about tradition? To wait until our wedding night?”

“Fuck tradition.” With that, Bakugou took her lips for his own, kissing her with a feverish passion that she instantly gave in to. After stripping himself of his cloak, he lied her down beneath him, only thinking for a moment that he found it amusing how tightly she was holding onto him. It was as if she were scared he would flee, like he would be the one to suddenly change his mind. What should have been obvious was that, if she didn’t stop him, there wasn’t anything that could. These feelings, this need to have her was like an unending hunger, boiling beneath his skin, and he feared that he would burn alive if he didn’t find release.

The soft gasp she let slip through the kiss pulled his mind back into momentary lucidity, finding that he had begun to eagerly grind his hips against hers. His member was straining painfully against his pants, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to stop, just the feeling of her sex rubbing against him enough to make his skin tingle. In truth, Bakugou hated it when he got like this, knowing that this wanting for her wasn’t just from regular adoration. He struggled with more animalistic urges that his bloodline cursed him with, and there were times where he wanted to do nothing but fuck for hours on end. It was akin to a male animal during mating season in rut, and he hated to liken himself to a beast.

It wasn’t exactly that time of the year for him, but just her being in his presence made him feel like it was. He didn’t want to seem like some weak, desperate man, and he knew that he would if he kept up this fast and impatient pace.

Setting her lips free, he began to pull her shift up slowly as he observed her flushed and nearly begging expression. “You act so innocent and proper, but now you’re nothing more than a little horny bitch.” Bakugou smirked as her face only flushed darker and her hips arched up more into his, telling him that his words only made her more excited. “How pure are you by now, hm? Has anything ever been in that pretty little cunt of yours?”

She gave a soft shake of her head, unable to resist kissing him again before responding. “No, I’ve never… put anything inside me. Not even my own fingers. Does that make you happy?” She shivered a bit from the chill as her shift was pushed up over her breasts, leaving the rest of her body bare and vulnerable to his pleasures.

“Damn right it does. You’ve always been meant for me.” With a teasing nibble to the delicate skin of her neck, he let one rough hand roam her body until it settled between her legs, stroking the sensitive flesh. As a new gasp left her lips, he couldn’t help but watch her chest heave with the new pleasure, the goosebumps visible across her skin. He did have to admit that the thought of her being completely untouched made him a tad nervous, as hurting her was never an option. Getting her worked up, then, was necessary. “I’ll just have to get you nice and ready for me.”

“H-how would you do that?”

Bakugou gave a small scoff, amused by her innocent, curious gaze. “You tell me, Princess.” His hand left her sex to instead grope her breast, massaging and squeezing as his lips moved down to join it. He used both hands to his full advantage, loving to hear her gasp with each teasing pinch or bite to her erect nipples. Much to his surprise, she seemed to respond with more pleasure when he was rougher, so far as to even moan from his teeth clamping down around them. It only excited him further, that she wasn’t so fragile as to resist his more rough actions.

His kisses and bites continued their way down her body until he was between her legs, taking a moment to sit up and observe her. She was completely open to him, arms resting above her head and gripping onto the fur pelts that she rested on tightly. The embarrassment only crept across her face as his eyes locked back with hers. “W-what are you looking at? It’s so dark in here, can you… really see me that well?”

“You know damn well I can see everything.” Bakugou slid his hand back up her body until he reached her neck, cupping her chin as he ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “And you’re the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Not giving her much time to respond, he settled back down between her legs, hooking his arms under them to grip her hips tightly.

She gave a soft, nervous laugh, her fingers softly tangling into his hair pulling his eyes up for another moment. The gentle smile on her face made his heart flutter violently, though he did everything he could to contain his excitement. “You’re just saying that to butter me up.”

“Tch, I don’t just say shit that I don’t mean.” With that, he ran his tongue along her sex, tightening his grip on her hips to keep her in place as she tried to shift away from the pleasure at first. Focusing on her clit, he reveled in the noises she made and her fingers in his hair, which eventually began to pull as if she were trying to get more out of him. So, he gave it to her, increasing the pleasure until she was a writhing mess in his grip.

She tasted and sounded so sweet that he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to bring her to an orgasm, to hear if her voice squeaked and feel how she would tremble. But, he couldn’t give that to her now, if he wanted any hope of success later on. That, and he needed to try something new, which he knew she may just react badly to. Sitting up from her, he took a second to kiss her, continuing the pleasure by stroking her with his hand.

“Are you ready?” He kept eye contact with her as he pressed the tip of his finger against her opening, but her reaction was something he hadn’t quite expected. Snatching onto his wrist, she shook her head, struggling to speak against panting breaths.

“No, please, I don’t want that. I want it… to be you, not your fingers.”

Bakugou removed his fingers as she requested, instead working to remove his belt and undo his pants. “Are you sure about that? It’ll hurt like a bitch at first. Using my fingers first would help you get used to it.”

“No, I want it to be… real.” The soft hitch in her voice caught Bakugou’s full attention, noticing that her eyes had begun to tear up and her brow was furrowed with worry. “I don’t care if it hurts at first… I know you wouldn’t do anything to… hurt me otherwise.”

His pants effectively moved out of the way, Bakugou moved back to hover over her, allowing his hard member to rest against her sex. Her heat was making it nearly impossible for him to not want to sink himself in immediately, but he held back, moving some of her hair out of her face with a tender touch. “I wouldn’t. Just tell me if you want me to stop.” Carefully, he took her legs by behind the knee, spreading her open a bit more.

“W-wait…” She placed her hands against his torso, softly tracing the lines of his muscles and running her nails along his skin. Her touch drove him absolutely mad, the animal inside him screaming to just get on with it. The man, however, soaked in the gentle touches, wishing to feel her hands all over his body. Being with her like this was an absolute dream, and he’d be damned if he’d let his crazed urges ruin a single moment.

A short, soft hiss escaped through his teeth as she caressed his cock, exploring it as she had his torso. In an attempt to hide how good her palm felt stroking against his tip, he gave a chuckle, watching her as she nibbled at her lip. “You’ve never touched, let alone see a cock before, have you?”

She gave a small shake of her head, looking back up at his face. “No. But it seems… Nice.” She took her hands back to herself as he bent her legs further back, beginning to stroke his cock along the length of her nearly dripping wet sex. Once again clutching onto the pelts above her head, she sighed out softly in pleasure. “And it’s… so warm. Everything about you is like a raging fire. It’s so nice…”

Leaning forward, Bakugou placed a soft kiss on her lips, shifting his hips to press his tip into her entrance. Knowing it would be difficult at first, he used one hand to guide himself, pausing for just a moment to get her final approval.

“Just breathe, [Name].”

After a small nod from her, Bakugou began to slowly press himself into her, a sigh of pleasure leaving his lips as a hiss of pain left hers. Now clutching onto his shoulders, she couldn’t help but to tense up, making Bakugou pause. “Hey, hey, I said breathe. It’s alright.” Once he was in past the tip, he began with very slow and shallow thrusts, keeping her attention with soft words, kisses, and the ability to claw at his skin as she wished. It was so difficult for him to focus on keeping her calm when being inside her felt so heavenly. She was so tight around his cock that he knew he would cum in no time if he weren’t careful, spurred on by a mixture of wanting, lack of any sexual attention, adoration and just pure pleasure.

Within no time, he was fully buried within her, pausing for a moment when his hips finally rejoined with hers. She was trembling fiercely, entire body coated in sweat and clutching onto him so tightly he was sure she could draw blood, if she hadn’t already. “How are you feeling, Princess?”

“I-It hurts… But I’m okay.” She moved her hands to caress his cheeks, kissing him softly. “You can move.” With the first shallow thrust of his hips, she moved her arms around his neck, taking him without any protest. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face, watching as her expression slowly shifted from wincing pain to confused arousal. As her expression changed, he gave her more, increasing his speed and depths of his thrusts. The first real moan of pleasure that slipped through her lips was nearly enough to cripple his restraint, releasing her legs so he could prop himself up on his arms for better leverage.

Watching her body bounce with each thrust was mesmerizing, her alluring voice and nails in his skin driving him mad. “Damn it, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t hardly hold myself back.”

“What is it you want?” She struggled to speak through her moans and gasps of pleasure, her hips beginning to arch up into his. “You wanted to mess me up, didn’t you?”

“I could hurt you doing that shit on your first time.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. Please, Katsuki, I want it!”

His name barely slipped through her lips before he let his restraint crumble, beginning to thrust in a harder, rougher pace. If she begged for it, then he would give it to her, as pleasuring her was all he wanted. She took to the new pleasure without skipping a beat, her head leaning back as she moaned without restraint.

“Look at you, Miss Purity, begging to be fucked harder like the little cock drunk bitch you are.” Bakugou wrapped his hand around her neck, giving just enough pressure to make her voice squeak. Still, her body language gave away that she loved it, opening herself up more to him. “Is that what you want? For me to make a mess of you and leave you fucking ruined?”

“Y-yes!” She squeaked, having to pause for a long moment as Bakugou only dug himself into her deeper. “I-I want to be yours, Katsuki! Do whatever you want to me!” Within a moment, he had her flipped over, gripping her hips tightly as he ravaged her from behind. Her ass bouncing with his thrusts was even more enticing than her chest, giving her more just so that he could see it move. She took well to this new position, though she had to collapse her upper body down onto the pelts after removing her shift completely.

Although Bakugou never wanted to stop, he could feel himself getting close, but he had yet to make her finish. With a tug to her arms, he pulled her up so that her back was against his torso, one hand latched around her neck while the other held her hips in place. Lips at her ear, he watched as her eyes rolled up, her entire body a willing subject to his wrath.

“You know what release feels like, right?”

“Y-yes!” “Tell me what you imagined to make yourself cum.”

“I-I imagined you touching me… Your fingers r-rubbing me, not mine-” A gasp escaped her as Bakugou moved his fingers to her clit, rubbing in rhythm to his thrusts.

“Keep going.” He growled in her ear, beginning to feel her body tense with the building pleasure.

“Your breath down my neck… Your lips on my skin… T-the thought of you cumming inside me! The thought of being yours forever!”

“Then cum for me, [Name]. Cum on my cock and become mine.” Thrusting into her harder, Bakugou fucked her until she was pushed over the edge. He held her tightly against him as she came hard, her body twitching and hips rocking back against him. She moaned and sighed out with trembling breath, squeezing his cock so tightly that he couldn’t hold it anymore. With a few more erratic thrusts of his hips, he released inside her, burying his face into her shoulder. The feeling of them pulsing against each other brought a fluttering realization to his chest, which was only made more severe as she reached up to gentle stroke his cheek.

“Mmm… Katsuki… I’m sorry I waited so long. I guess I am just a stubborn little princess.”

“No,” Bakugou turned her head with a soft push of his fingers, kissing her with gentle passion. “You’re not that anymore. Now you’re my stubborn Queen, [Name]. And I would have waited an eternity for you.”

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket SE02 (ep,4)

This is a rare ep that gave lots of characters a focus here & there. Good!

-Tohru is given the least focus but still we got insight into her. She’s upset that kyo is considering not join the school trip, worried abt Haru, learning to trust yuki’s ability to take care of himself. Typical tohru worrying abt everybody & not herself. Kyo’s words describe tohru best “ you cant be trusted not to get hurt” I’d love to say, NO, tohru can protect herself well, but he’s right tho, tohru is selfless & reckless, she’ll run after anyone needing help without being cautious. Season 1 has many examples, Arisa, Ritsu, yuki, kyo & hana. Tohru will need to learn to worry less abt others & focus on herself a little to grow.

-Kyo doesn’t know how to fake an emotion or pretend sth he isn’t. No one knew abt the true form incident or the kazuma’s visit, but others are noticing kyo & tohru are closer. (a) the show exposed him to hana/ Arisa /Momoji & tohru herself( altho she’s too dense) through teasing. (b) the biggest reveal of his bond with tohru, him saying her name in front of yuki with such ease. Kyo’s been saying tohru’s first name for a while now, but it’s mostly when they’re alone. Today, he said it loud & clear in front of all. Yuki sensed the change. Haru, too. (c) Kyo moved faster than even the stronger yuki to protect tohru. He eyes showed sth different. That isn’t the normal kyo, that’s a kyo so deep into the moment, his eyes mimic his animal spirit. (d) Kyo also tried to advice tohru to protect herself more, but the advice fell flat on deaf ears, tohru is tohru & momiji exposed the feeling behind the advice. It isnt the same sentiment behind his previous advice, No, this time the advice is driven by selfish feeling, “I couldn’t stand that happening” Even tohru blushed.

But kyo’s guilt wouldn’t let him enjoy a cool or teasing moment. It strikes fast & cold. We are giving access to kyo’s thoughts & we could see the immense guilt he has “ who am I telling her to stay away from haru, I’m way more.. dangerous?” & Yes, he is dangerous. After all he IS the monster, with hideous look, rotten smell, unchecked rage & destructive strength. kyo’s negative thoughts here are realistic & has a proof to back it up. Adding to this the previous accusations of his mom & the possible kyoko. Kyo battles those negative thoughts by extra training, which is a better coping mechanism, engaging in sports & doing physical efforts can clear your mind a bit. Even if kyo is training to beat yuki, he’s still spending his time moving forward rather than being locked stand still where he is. His situation is incredibly crippling, but he’ll fight it, as long as he can, as much as he can.

- Yuki is struggling with his own demons, he feels fake & selfish, he knows he’s wearing masks to fool others to like him but those masks also fool yuki into thinking that everything he does is fake, as well. Yuki’s biggest flaw is how much he compares himself to others, not just kyo. even to haru. He made a judgement that haru is purely selfless in his kindness while he himself isn't. Haru made sure to explain to yuki that we all have selfless & selfish drives inside us & that’s fine. Yuki, fueled by haru’s words forces himself to return to the sohma’s house to visit Haru, & although yuki thinks that haru is already fine, the visit helped yuki to feel appreciated by a friend & helped him believing in himself. He CAN face his demons & fears. He doesn’t need to be brave, he just needs to keep trying.

- Haru is in love! & got dumped, too. It’s frustrating to be dumped without a reason & in cold manner. There IS a reason, but haru is determined to keep trying to win her back, he loves her too much to let go that easy, without trying. Why can’t yuki see that he has a friend already! haru?! a true friend who helps him, guides him & complains to him. Haru opened his heart to yuki. Haru guiding & advising him, call her by her name, move on forward, believe in your yourself. Haru is so underrated, not just by the show, but by yuki, as well. lol

Side notes:

Arisa & hana are mood! planning trips around food is the right thing.

The old maid is toxic. She is the sohma’s system keeper, eww

Haru’s “stupid cat, your every existence cause trouble for us all” is Ouch! duno if it’s intentional or not, but it tied tragically with kyo’s existence complex & his mom’s death.

Kyo looked teased, cool, goofy, cat ears, depressed & determined. lol. The master of various face expressions.

Sensie mayu is cool!

How is Momiji in high school! XD. so cute!

Rin i’m waiting for you. Show yourself.

kyo got a line of inner thoughts~celebrating!! now tohru’s turn, when?..

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part One

Part Two 

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: A number for a name & a supernatural ability. A subject escaped from Hawkins Lab, and Steve Harrington finds her in the darkness of night.

Word Count: 2,600+

Warning(s): Cussing, mentions of mild injury/blood.

A/N: This is part one of my series :-). I’m not really sure if this is a pure reader insert since the character is without a true name (Hawkins lab style), but I left physical descriptions that may isolate some readers out so self-insertion can still ensue! This would probably be considered a slow-burn, so enjoy! More chapters to come. Oh & leave me some feedback! (;

The pattering of a girl’s bare feet against rough pavement; a sound covered by the intense rainstorm the evening participated in. Perhaps this was to work to her advantage, the chaos of a storm much smaller than her own raging circumstance still enough to provide a helping hand in a getaway unplanned for. She carried herself quickly. Her medical gown was inadequate against the weather, now sticking to her body thick with rainwater. Despite its insufficient aid in covering her body, if she were given a different article of clothing in this moment, she would choose shoes. Her foot came in contact with something unpleasant - an item unidentifiable, perhaps a jagged rock - and she stumbled in one abrupt motion to the ground. Her hands were met with dirt, wet and stubborn to leave her palms. She did not let herself stay down long. A minute unmoving is a minute closer to danger.

Removing herself from the floor, she took a few strides forward, not fully finding her balance until step number four or five. The woods ahead of her began to thin, but she continued ahead, not taking time to consider where she might redirect herself when the concealment of the trees was taken away from her. Back out of the treeline now, her feet met pavement again on another road. She stopped momentarily at this sensation, realizing she had to select a direction to continue with her breakout. She squinted to her right, eyes traveling a ways down the road before turning her head to consider her left. She was but a second into her visual examination of her second option before realizing how little time she was truly given to make a choice. Headlights made her inspection of her left side much less bearable, causing great pain to her eyes in the dark of night.

A sound now loud enough to be heard over the storm: the screeching of car tires. The vehicle identifiable by its relentless headlights. Her eyes had closed instinctively at the sight of the yellow glare, but opened to find the car stopped a mere four or so feet in front of herself. Panic that had been drilled into her state of mind the second she began her escape only heightened. Momentarily she believed the vehicle to belong to those she was running from, but soon realized it was much shorter in height. It was not a towering van, but a car simple in size. Still blinking in a struggle against the lights, her eyes snapped to the owner of the automobile who stepped out from inside the car with a swift swinging of the door.

“Hey, are you okay? What are you doing?” the figure questioned her, shouting loudly over the aggression of the rain.

She did not answer him, unable to move but only wishing she could do so.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, taking one step forward. This subtraction of space between them only had the alarms in her head blaring louder. She took a step backwards to compensate for his advancement. “I- I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he told her. Maybe it was delusion, or just pure exhaustion and desire for her runaway to end, but she did not move this time when he took another step in her direction. Taking this as a good sign, and perhaps becoming a little too confident, he walked a few more paces to meet the girl. She flinched, but still could not bring herself to run. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Are you hurt? What are you doing out here?”

He was met with no response, only the frightened stare of the person he had almost flattened into the concrete.

“Do you need help?”. He was finally awarded a reply. Subtle and shaky, she nodded a ‘yes’ to him.

---

She plopped down in the passenger seat of his car, almost as heavily as she had fallen earlier. Wanting not to block the road any longer, he began driving again, giving her quick glances every few seconds as she worked on regaining her breath. “Where are you coming from? Is- is that a hospital dress? Do you need me to take you back to the hospital?” He spewed out questions, his own head spinning with thoughts of uncertainty and hysteria. She stopped him with his last one. “No.”.

He breathed out heavily. “O-okay,” He stopped, unsure of how to continue with the conversation. “So why the hell are you in the middle of the road during a thunderstorm and why do you look like you just escaped hell and roped me into giving you a ride back home?” He was panicked, but not angry. His loud tone, despite this lack of rage behind it, still frightened her. Flinching again, she eyed him for a silent moment. Her lack of a reply gave him time to realize his overwhelming approach to communication. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scare you. I just have no idea who you are or where I’m supposed to take you,” he told her with a volume indicating more composure. “I don’t have a home,” she responded to his earlier comment.

“What- what does that mean? You don’t have a home? Where are you coming from?” This question was too invasive for her. She didn’t answer. “Look, my parents aren’t home. I can take you back to my place, but I have zero idea what I am supposed to do in this situation,” he said, stuttering over a few of his words. “Okay,” she spoke.

---

By the hour they arrived back at his house and the rain had lightened up a small amount. He walked her to the front door, fumbling with his keys while shaking away water that dripped from his hair into his eyes. The lock finally permitted entry, and he forcibly pushed the door open with his shoulder. She followed him inside, dripping rain all over the hardwood floor. The entry rug provided little protection to the flooring, and he didn’t bother with wiping his shoes before stepping off of it. He tossed his keys, and they met the dining table with a loud clack. A few drops of blood followed the same path as the dripping water, landing on the floor as they slowly exited a cut on her leg, most likely from her tumble in the woods. “Okay do you-” he turned to face her again. “Do you want a towel? I can uh, get you some real clothes too.” She nodded her head, abandoning speech again. “Okay, yeah,” he said with a little more confidence. “Uh, you just stay here for a minute, okay?” Another nod.

He returned within three minutes, two of which were used to dig through his own clothing for the smallest size he had. He handed her a t-shirt with the words Hawkins High School on it, a P.E. shirt he still had from his freshman year. Also given to her was a pair of shorts, sure to wear baggy on her but the best he was able to do. “You can change in the bathroom,” he told her. “There are clean towels in there too.”. He pointed to a small room with the door slightly ajar. She held eye contact with him for a moment, unsure of herself with every action, but took his direction and walked to the bathroom to rid herself of the battered medical gown.

She emerged a few minutes later, dressed in clothing too large yet still more suitable than before. He stood in the kitchen, and she made her way over to him from her place in the bathroom doorway. “Thank you,” she spoke to him for the first time in the past thirty minutes. He looked up to meet her eye. “Uh, yeah. Are you hungry? We don’t have much but I can make you a sandwich or something,” he said. She took a few more steps in his direction, still inherently hesitant but wanting to be trusting. “Sure,” she said.

He took out a loaf of bread and began rummaging through the pantry in search of something to put on the slices of wheat. His hand grabbed for a jar of peanut butter and he started building a sandwich for the girl who sat at the counter, watching him. He presented her with the finished meal, sliding a glass of water to her hands as well. “Thank you,” she said again. “No problem”.

The sandwich had been cut in two, straight down the middle as a mother would do for a child's lunch. It was a moment of strange consideration on his part. She tore it with her hands, eating the food slowly in between heavy gulps of water. “I’m Steve,” he said. She looked up at him as he sat across from her, giving him a look hinting of slight puzzlement. “That’s- that’s my name,” he stuttered when he realized she looked unsure of what to make of his conversation. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She set down the glass once filled with water, now only containing a few ice cubes. “I don’t know,” she said. Another answer that characterized her bizarre to newly named Steve. “You don’t know? What do you mean?” he said. She turned over her arm rather than trying to communicate through words. She decided she was not good at speech. A marking caught his eye, and he read the numbers ‘009’ that laid vertically along her wrist. “Nine? The number nine? What, is that supposed to be your name? That’s a number.” He spoke as if it were common sense, which understandably it was. “It’s the only thing I’ve been called,” she told him.

“Okay, I really need to know where the hell you came from because I am very confused,” he admitted. Her eyebrows slid closer to one another as a look of perplexity, slight displeasure, and wavering sadness displayed across her expression. A few moments of silence fell with great weight between them. “I escaped the lab,” she told him, leaving him without explanation as to what or where that was. “The lab? Like a science lab?”

“No. A place with dangerous people,” she said.

She watched as his face evolved, circling through many emotions before latching onto one that left her with a strong sense of dread. He started with a look of confusion, but swapped it for a face that wore a smile. She furrowed her eyebrows again, unpleased with his reaction. A disoriented chuckle acted as his response to her. “Okay, no. No, no no no no,” he said. He had reached his limit of strange happenings for the night. “Okay, what the fuck. I’m done. Who put you up to this? Was it one of my friends?”. He spoke to her in a way he hadn’t done until now, and his lack of sincerity left the girl feeling bitter. “Shit, you were good. Are you like, an actress?” He paused momentarily, expecting an answer but not hesitant to continue on when she didn’t give him one. If she had been acting all night, it was his time to perform. “This was an insane prank, you got me. I will give you that.” He now stood from his place in the chair across from her, backing up to lean against the counter behind him. He still wore that same stupid smile, one ignorant of the situation he was really in. It wasn’t suitable, and the longer it stayed on his face the more anger the girl in front of him felt.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, picking up on her very readable non-verbal cues. “You can stop now. I figured it out. Yeah sure it took me a while, but I get it,” he said with an unknowing laugh. He was moving with exaggerated motions, waving his arms as if he were trying to signal for a taxi. To her, he looked like an idiot. It was his next action that was his biggest mistake. He reached his arm out in front of him, fingers moving towards a cut on her forehead. It had been added to her injuries at some point during her flee, and a small smear of blood was left on her skin from recent bleeding. “Did you really get fake blood-” he started as he moved to touch her face.

A swift tilt of her head in an upward motion, only moving her chin higher one inch than it had been previously. His fingertips did not make it to her skin, as his body was thrown with abandon until his back came in contact with the wall behind him. This movement, movement initiated without telling his body to do so, scared Steve greatly. The loud thud of his body hitting the wall sounded more damaging than it actually was, as he was left in panic rather than pain. He stuttered over his words for the second time that night. “Wha- woah whah what the fuck. What the fuck was that?! What did you just do to me?”.

With this outburst on his part, a feeling arose in 009. It was a feeling she did not take comfort in, one that told her she was a monster. Everyone who bore witness to her ability thus far has reacted the same way initially: Horror. Animosity. Revulsion. She did not like to utilize this power she had obtained in someway unknown. It made her eligible to be weaponized. She did not take pride in this gift she had been told that she should.

“Don’t touch me,” she said sternly.

“Okay, okay,” he said, throwing two hands up above his head in a sign of compliance. She did not like this movement either, it was a common sight presented to her. A signal that oftentimes followed fear. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she repeated back to him the sentence he had used with her earlier. He eyed her apprehensively. “I don’t want to,” she said. He looked at her, his eyes drifting between her two, reading her face to the best of his ability. Returning to where he was, he repositioned his chair from where it had been knocked backwards with his sudden, careless movements. “It’s not a… ‘prank’”. The last word of her sentence spit unfamiliar to her, but she knew from his behavior that it’s meaning did not fit her circumstance. “Okay,” he told her, “I’m sorry”.

His apology was genuine, but left them with silence neither of them knew how to break. “So,” Steve started, lightly dragging out the single word. “You.. escaped. This lab was what, holding you hostage?” She paused, never having thought to define what her position there was. Hostage sounded fitting. “I lived there, against my will. The people, they were trying to use me,” she told him. “Use you because of your throwing-people-against-the-wall powers?” he asked, clearly referencing what had happened to him maybe a minute ago. She nodded once more, a small amount of relief soothing her at his evolved understanding. “Jesus Christ, so I am now harboring a fugitive with telekinetic abilities, cool.” The tone used with his speech erupted further feelings of dejection within 009. Now she was the one scared of the person in front of her. “I can’t go back,” she piped up, her voice evidently unsettled. He drew his eyes back to her from elsewhere, “No, no, I won’t take you back. You can uh, you can stay here for now. My parents will be home tomorrow, so we have to stay upstairs. I’m not sure they’d be too thrilled with the situation we have going for us here so it’s probably best I don’t introduce you to them,” he finished his proposal. For the first time since they met, she offered him a small smile.   

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Love me, love me not ~ pt.10

10: When Grayson learned to love

Summary: Trying to protect him, Y/N tries to end things. But after their argument, Grayson surprises her with his actions.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing

Word count: 2.3 k

A/N - I’m considering leaving it at this, although I have an idea for one or two more parts. Should I end the series like this? 

Love me, love me not ~ Series Masterlist

Being a celebrity isn’t all it’s cracked out to be. Y/N learned that firsthand when the man she trusted had turned their relationship from dreams to nightmares. It was toxic, she knew it early on. It was full of ultimatums and non-disclosure agreements, of fights about how tight her dress is or about the hug she gave her male castmate…but she let it slide even when she shouldn’t have. Even when she knew what was happening because that’s what Hollywood told her love is.

Until she met Grayson.

No longer would she look back and feel regret wash over her for leaving that cheating bastard. He was a man of many talents, lying being the main one. He turned the story on her, making her the bad guy, nearly taking out her career in just one video leak of her losing it after finding out about his ‘hobbies’.

Y/N thought her misery was over and her career safe. She believed she was done suffering, that she found stability in her newfound bravery…and in Grayson.

She was wrong.

Frantic, she dialed her manager’s number, her hands shaking. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore – anger? Fear? Confusion? Too many emotions came to life as she waited for the annoying ringing sound to stop and Tracy’s voice to come through on the other line. When it did, she realized rage was the main emotion after all.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!” Y/N’s sharp, loud tone had alerted the twins who exchanged worrisome looks before scrambling to their feet. They ran into the room, nearly toppling over each other in the process.

“I TOLD YOU TO SHRED THE DOCUMENTS AND EVERYONE SIGNED NDAs!” Y/N continued to yell, running her hands through her hair in frustration, nearly ripping it out in her craze. Her face burned as if someone pushed her into the fire, her eyes turned to flames and her usually sweet tongue into acid, matching the unforgiving rage bubbling inside. She stood up, pacing the room as she listened to Tracy whine about being clueless herself, how she plans to get to the bottom of things.

“What happened?” Grayson asked timidly, dropping his phone on the bed, getting a violent wave off as his answer.

“I don’t fucking care, Trace! I want this resolved. I’ll film a video with Grayson on the matter, but find the leak and make sure it never opens up again. Got it?!” Her words terrified the twins, mostly because they watched way too many mafia movies and that usually meant someone would die. But she scared them more because she had never been so angry before. She was never red in the face as a result of pure, unadulterated rage.

She threw her phone to the bed, her hands tangling in her hair with a pounding headache coming on. Closing her eyes shut to keep the world at bay, she felt her temples pulsate, her nostrils flare with a sudden need for deep breaths, her lips pressed together to stop herself from screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Princess? You’re starting to scare me.” Grayson’s voice is soft and accepting, a gentle caress of a sweet soul like his. He didn’t call her a drama queen as Henry would. He didn’t shout at her for acting out as a child as Henry would say. He didn’t even stop her from expressing her emotions, letting her be who she is – sometimes overly dramatic with a tendency to throw tantrums, feeling everything with every part of her being or nothing at all…he let her be human; tempestuous, deeply flawed and in the end…his.

She is his. Despite the way things started, she was truly his and no amount of denial will ever change that. And she was done denying herself the finer things in life because of some guy who was maliciously intent on damaging her. He had cracked her, but Grayson was the compass that showed her a way to the glue she needed to repair herself.

“Someone tipped off the media on our contract.” She sighed, shaking her head. Her eyes still closed, she felt the surge of panic is still present, unyielding. She didn’t even hear Grayson as he stood up, the bed creaking in the process. She didn’t feel him come closer, nor did she notice when he towered over her.

But she did feel his hands on her elbows, traveling up her forearms and to her hands that had made a complete mess of her hair. He untangled her hands, encasing them in his own carefully, rubbing his fingertips over her knuckles patiently. Grayson Dolan had learned to be a patient man – at least with her.

“They can say whatever they want. Proof is gone and our feelings are too obvious for anyone to deny. We don’t have anything to worry about.” Grayson tried reasoning with her, sensing she’s spiraling and closing in on herself. She’s always been her own worst enemy.

“How can you say that when everything is on the line?” Her voice didn’t waver and Grayson knew her anger didn’t either. At least she was angry. He could work with anger. Indifference scared him and he found himself feeling relieved when he realized that wasn’t the case.

She opened her eyes, the usual swirl of color now darker with the sudden turn in her heart.

“You do realize we can lose our roles for this? A rumor is enough to ruin your reputation and that can put a big risk on a movie franchise like The Vampire Academy who failed miserably when they tried to get it going the first time around! I’m already broken in their eyes, but you? You’re just starting out and being linked to someone like me could ruin you Gray. Being in my vicinity will make your career implode.” Her eyes widened while her own words washed over her, knowing she was right. She was right and she couldn’t do that to him. Grayson was her safe harbor, but she was his stormy sea and even the best-equipped harbors can’t stop a tsunami…and that’s how she felt – like a tsunami.

“Break up with me. Okay? Say I seduced you to get my image clean and broke your heart. It will secure your future, okay? I’ll step down from Rose and I’ll –“, she didn’t get far with her self-destructive rant, interrupted by his lips on hers. It didn’t take her long to pull herself together and gather her wits, pushing him away as firmly and definitively as she used to do before.

Ethan remained quiet, scrolling through the tweets and reading all the reactions. Most fans refused to believe it, but some were ready to flay them alive.

“Stop talking nonsense.” Grayson hissed, losing his patience.

Not for an instant did his eyes leave hers. Y/N was forced to hold his gaze while inside, her heart ached. The world left her no choice. Lifting her chin, she struggled to draw breath and forced herself to shrug as she looked away. "This day was very pleasant, quite eye-opening, but…" Shrugging again, she swung aside and stepped away, feigning indifference. "Not enough to make me stay."

She was a good actress…too good for Ethan to doubt her words as he looked up sharply, but not good enough to fool Grayson.

"Look at me, dammit!" The command was issued through clenched teeth. Swinging back to face him, Y/N saw his fists clench and sensed the battle he waged not to touch her. She immediately lifted her chin defiantly.

"You're making too much of it, you, as all men, should know just because we had a few nice moments together doesn’t mean I should stay with you or marry you." Her heart twisted; she forced her voice to lighten, forced her lips to curve lightly.

For one instant, she feared she'd gone too far. There was something, a flash in his eyes, an expression that flitted over his face that locked her breath in her throat. But then he relaxed, not completely, but much of his frightening tension - battle-ready tension - seemed to flow out of him.

She saw his chest rise as he drew breath, then he was coming toward her, moving with his usual predatory grace and the intimidating flare. She wasn't sure which she found more unnerving the intimidating warrior or the graceful predator.

"So you really think I can’t read you? That I don’t know when you’re lying to me? Didn’t you promise me you’d never lie to me again?" His fingers, cool and steady, slid under her chin and tipped her face up to his. He smiled, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes.

“You, Y/N Y/L/N, own my heart. I am not going anywhere no matter how hard you try to push me away. Even if your words did wound me just by knowing you’d ever say them, even if you don’t really mean them. You hurt me. Deeply. Repeatedly. But I’m still here. I always will be. Fuck my career if you’re not a part of my life.” His eyes locked on hers. Only desperation allowed her to keep her features still, to stop them from crumpling. Inside, she was weeping - for him, and for her. But she had to turn him from her. There were no words on earth to explain to him how much he’d miss out on if he chose a girl who he barely knew.

But he continued.

“I’ve had a life where all I did was make content and nothing else. I’ve had fame without love. It’s not worth it. It never is, princess. Because…in all my time on this Earth I have never known what love really is. I thought I did, but now I know. I found love with you. And you might not feel the same way and you might be willing to throw everything away, but I’m not. I. LOVE. YOU.”

She was at the end of her strength and she knew it. She put her last ounce into brightening her smile, her eyes, her expression. Her fists clenched so tightly, her nails cut into her palms.

“When I was in pain from him, I took it out on you. When I couldn't say to him how his actions kept me in constant pain, you were the safe target. So all you saw was ‘push and pull’ of my brain and heart fighting to find some middle ground. A push away when I needed to act out a form of strength, and a pull when I panicked, needing you close. I'm sorry. I wasn't aware, now I am. You heal my mind with nothing fancier than a smile and warm hugs. You always come when I call. I guess this is recovery, when I can see the people who are really helping and ask them to come closer, staying quiet when the urges to push them away returns, ensuring that their kindness is mirrored by my actions and words. And I’m still working on the staying quiet part.” She chuckled dryly, letting a single tear slip past her defenses. He caught it with easy, intently pressing his thumb into her left cheek, only to cup it after.

“I love you too, Grayson. I really do and I know I’ve done a crappy job in showing that. I want so badly to protect you and if letting you go is a part of that, I’ll take the pain. But you’re right. I won’t push you away. You have the power to decide if you want to leave or not.” With one of his usual graceful nods, he headed for the door. He opened it, and, without glancing back, left, pulling the door gently closed behind him. Y/N held her position; for a long while, she simply stood there, staring at the door, not daring to let herself think.

“E?” She whispered, her lips quivering as her eyes flickered to the still brother in the corner of the room who was trying to comprehend what just happened as well.

“I’ll check on him. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Ethan told her, rushing after his brother.

It didn’t take long before she heard the car engine, forcing her legs to move. She held the tears back. Why on earth was she crying? She'd done what had to be done. She reminded herself sternly that it was all for the best. That the numbness enveloping her would eventually pass. That it didn't matter that she would never feel his hands on her body, worshiping every inch of her skin or that soft smile he reserved just for her, or the way his voice would go higher whenever she challenged him to drive him insane…She’d miss a great deal of things about him – his heart most of all.

Finding the driveway empty, her car the only one remaining, Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying openly. The sob in her chest made it harder to breathe, but she couldn’t break down now.

Instead, she returned to his room. Her shaky fingers pulled at the band of his father’s ring, sliding it off her thumb. It didn’t feel right keeping the ring anymore. Not when he didn’t want her. Not when he decided he didn’t want her just as she admitted her love for him.

She gave him an out and he took it.

She couldn’t be mad about that, could she?

Tags: @xalayx @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @anything-dolan @peacedolantwins @maybgrayson @nowheredolan @graydolan12 @beautorigin @justordinaryjen @starrydolan @pitreshawn @grays-laugh  @adventureswithmell @gia-kerks

[an-ambivalent]

Oath Of Desires: Seven

Synopsis: [Yandere! Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung] [Poly AU]

It had only been them three for a long time. Not one person more, not one person less – just Jungkook, Taehyung and [Name].

Jungkook was elated when Taehyung and [Name] told him that they had become a couple. He literally could not have been happier.

They were his favourite couple, and he loved them both…. A little too much.

When there was a hindrance in Taehyung and [Name]’s relationship which caused them to fall apart, Jungkook was distraught. Afterwards, when he realized the depths of his love for his ‘friends,’ Jungkook made an oath of his dark desires – he was going to do whatever it took to get them back together. And this time, he was also going to become part of their relationship.

Warning: As this story contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl.

                                             ___________

He was full of desires, and his obsession was a burning fire. He envied others of their joy, and his desperate need To become a part of that, always led him to destroy.

                                             ___________

The smell of the air around them was musky, and  the place they were in, damp. An overwhelming amount of dark spots buzzed behind [Name]’s eyelids as she woke up grudgingly. An intense and severely painful headache accompanied the rest of the pain in her body that was caused by it stiffness. There were also pain in all the places where Jungkook had hit her in order to prevent her from fighting against him, before he had knocked her unconscious. The throbbing in her head worsened when she opened her eyes, and the over saturated light of the dull lamp that hung above them, shone in her eyes a bit too brightly. As a result, a groan left her lips, and she immediately closed her eyes. Then, after a few seconds when it did not feel as bad anymore, [Name] opened them again and winced. Her pupils adjusted to the light eventually. 

With eyes widened, and not being able to make sense of what was going on, [Name] mindless looked around in order to observe her surroundings. It was something out of a thriller horror movie; the setting of the  scene they were in, was still meant to be kept mysterious in order to keep both the audience, and the characters guessing, and on their toes. [Name] noted that they appeared to be underground in sort of basement; and its space seemed to be relatively big. That was a mere guess though as aside from the corner she was in, that was poorly lit, the remaining of it was completely embedded in darkness. So, it was difficult to see what was there, much-less pinpoint the exact details. [Name] was not going to receive the chance to observer her surroundings in full detail anyway, because of the drama that was about to ensue. [Name] tried to move her arms and legs, and stand up from the sitting position she was forced to be in. However, she could barely budged a muscle, much less stand up. Ever the determined person that she was though, she did not give up. She continued to struggle in her bindings in hoped that she could do something to get out of them. Her adamant resilience to prosper, and try to get out of her extremely tight bindings no matter what, eventually got too tiring to watch for Taehyung to watch any longer. So, he thought he would spare her the struggle he wished he had been spared from. “It’s useless,” He started loudly, causing [Name] to halt in between her struggle, and turn towards him with wide eyes. “It’s not going to work, no matter how hard you tried to shuffle and get them off. Trust me, I already tried,” He said tiredly, and [Name] furrowed her eyebrows. She looked at Taehyung up and down in order examine him and noticed that he was in the same position as her — completely tied up in a chair, and immobile. Unlike her though, Taehyung, if she were to describe his state in the simplest terms; he looked absolutely tragic. His skin was slightly crusty, his hair was disheveled, and hung down his face in an odd fashion, and there were big and hideous eye bags underneath his swollen lower lid folds.  He was slouching weakly in his chair, and there was barely any life in his eyes. The sight of him was so appalling that [Name] could not even stand to stare at him. This, mixed with the anger, hurt, betrayal, sorrow, and other feelings she harboured due to Taehyung cheating on her,  she could not bear to look at him. So, as a response, [Name] merely turned her head away from Taehyung. This, of course, did not sit well with Taehyung. He was already feeling down mentally, and emotionally — extremely distressed, angry and scared due to the things he had to endure from Jungkook over the last few days. After seeing [Name], he did not want her to be here and suffer the way he had. However, seeing her, after what he was put through in only a few days, had filled him with hope, and some reassurance that he was not going to be alone anymore. Just like they always had, Taehyung thought they could get through this together, and he would tell her what to do in order to avoid the starvation, dehydration, and other cruelties Jungkook forced on him because he would not do what he wanted. There was so much Taehyung was betting on her, and he had been thinking of surviving through this together with her so much, that he had completely forgotten all about the cheating instance, and how [Name] would be feeling. Frustration built in him, and he snarled. “So what? I’m not even worth talking to? Is that how it’s going to be now, [Name]?” Taehyung hissed, and the aggression etched in his voice rubbed [Name] the wrong way. Carrying her own battle scars, and an emotional baggage to match with it that had been ruining her lately, she was quick to become aggravated, and act out in emotion just like Taehyung. “Don’t pin this on me. You have no right to be angry at me when you’re the one who cheated and ruined our relationship in the first place,” She snapped. “Are you serious? You’re still clinging onto that? Do you have any idea about the danger of the situation you are in? You should be counting yourself lucky that you have me here, and I’m willing to help you—“ 

“What do you mean still clinging onto that?! You cheated on me just last week! Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you Taehyung? Why are you being so cruel and insensitive  to me—“ [Name] cried, however, she stopped in the middle of her last enquiry. This was because the entrance to the basement they were in was unlocked open. There were sounds of many locks being unlocked and discarded, which had caused [Name] and Taehyung to stop amidst their argument.

Once the entrance opened fully, in all of his glory, Jungkook walked in. Subsequently to his entrance, he shut the door behind him, and as he turned towards Taehyung and [Name], he wore a deep frown on his face, and shook his head in disappointment.

“I heard you two fighting from upstairs. You’re not suppose to be fighting,” He stated, and displeasure was laced in his voice.

While Taehyung had become somewhat familiar to the environment Jungkook had forced him in, Jungkook’s statement was still confusing to him, and by extension, it was obviously confusing to [Name]. However, she brushed that aside in order to focus on the bigger problem she and Taehyung were in -- she wanted answers.

“What the hell is the meaning of this Jungkook?! Is this some sort of sick joke? What do you think you’re doing tying us up and keeping us in this-- disgusting room?” [Name] snapped.

Instead of receiving the reply that she wanted, Jungkook grinned widely at them. There as insanity etched in his grin, and sickening excitement illuminating his irises.

“We’ll all be together now,” Jungkook started, before he giggled childishly to himself. “At long last… I’ll.. I’ll finally know love. Someone, you two, are going to love, and share it with me. Share all of it with me! I want— I want it all! The kisses you shared, the intimacy, the affection, so called sacrifices parents make for their child’s sake — everything they do for their child’s sake, I want it directed at me. You’re going to get back together, love each other, and then you’re going to love me too. Whatever you do, your love for me should be the reason why you do it. The thought and the intention for my well-being should be what drives it. Everything you do, will be out of love for me,” Jungkook vented, before his giggling turned into maniac low chuckling.

He was crazy — something had always been off about him, that much Taehyung and [Name] knew. However, they had been oblivious to how insane he truly was. And now, seeing the reality of it starting to come into fruition, was downright petrifying.

Taehyung and [Name] exchanged a look and there was absolute fear written over [Name]’s face. It was an expression that Taehyung had not seen her wear in a long time, but an expression he was too familiar with. The sight of it broke his heart, and reminded him of the times of when he used to always take care of her, and make sure that her source of fear would disappear.

It hurt; everything hurt. His actions of betrayal and insecurities felt like it was constricting around his trachea, and suffocating him. However, it was not time for Taehyung’s pity party anymore. They were in a serious situation, and he needed to protect [Name].

Building up his willpower, Taehyung forced the mental drainage he felt from the lack of food and water, and pain Jungkook had inflicted on him at the back of his mind, and acted on his anger towards Jungkook instead. He always the best at that — acting impulsively on his rage. So, why not now? Especially, when he needed to in order to demand the answers they seeked, and express their disgust towards their captor.

“You’re fucking mental, you know that don’t you? What makes you think we’ll do what you want and not the opposite?” Taehyung sneered, and the aggression in his tone caused Jungkook to halt amidst his villainous laughter moment. Jungkook snapped his gaze towards his tied victims lovers, before his lips formed into a saccharine smile.

He took out a big knife that he had been hiding in the back pocket of his pants.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter my darling~” Jungkook cooed, as he tilted his head innocently, and started spinning the big knife in his hand like it was a mere toy for him.

“You know Tae, you were always the one who hurt others without caring. First [Name], and then me. You’ve always been the more selfish and uncooperative one so I think I’ll start with discipling you first,” A pause, and Jungkook contemplated his words for a moment, before he shrugged. “Or maybe, for everytime you upset me, I’ll touch [Name] in front of you. I thought about hurting her, but she doesn’t deserve that yet. And everytime I touch her, you can just sit there, and wither in pain as we enjoy ourselves. If you want to enjoy yourself too in our playtime, then you better be a good boy, okay?”

[toloveawarlord]

Pt. 2

Wow, to be honest, I was astounded by how well received part one was! Thank you so much for loving Alara as much as I do!

This took a while and the word count is nearly 3,000 so strap in for a long one. I struggled to find the perfect spot to end this one so it’s a bit longer than part 1.

Tagging: @plumpblueberry for always supporting me and @ihavenotfallenyet who asked to be tagged! ^_^

The cracks of thunder rattled the mansion with its monstrous noise, causing her chest to tighten with each boom, as if it stepped in time with the stomps of her stepfather growing ever closer. Any second he would appear, ripping her away from this place. Alara all but jumped into Arthur’s lap when the door was thrown open. Her small hands trembling as they clutched onto the sleeve of his jacket.

“There was no need to come through my window like that!” The irritation in his voice pointed to the other resident beside him that wore clothes she was not familiar with.

“Newt, old boy, you’ve given the girl a fright,” Arthur chastised with a grin to lighten the heavy cloud hanging over the child. As her grip lessened, he hooked a finger under her chin to get her full attention. “Those two live here as well. There’s not a need for those teary eyes, yeah?”

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that. My name is Isaac.” Taking the chair beside Arthur, Isaac glanced at the child out of his peripheral vision. Sebastian hadn’t given a real reason as to why he wanted an old shirt, but it was clearly the one she wore.

The other man approached her chair directly. “Ahh, a wonderful little soul has found her way into our humble home. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Saki-chan.” He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss, bringing a smile to her face once again.

“That’s not my name, mister.” Alara answered, giggling at his antics, nonetheless. Everyone that she had met were so kind to her, having so much attention had her worries scattered away. If only momentarily, she was happy.

Sebastian interrupted the commotion, wheeling out a cart of delicious foods of all varieties. “Please, have a seat, dinner is already late.” The hint of disapproval in his voice didn’t deter the young girl from returning to her pancakes.

The chatter around the table remained light, talks of their days and giving information about themselves led the child into the conversation. Allowing her to decide what she might tell them about herself. None wanted to bring that terrified expression back to her, even without knowing the extent of the circumstances.

Alara perfectly fit in with the lot, finding their professions and personalities intriguing, a mismatched bunch. Never in her short life had so many different people been in one room. The comfortable feeling settling inside her brought an ache along with it, but she didn’t know why. Like she’d been stuck in a China glass house, snatched right out of a doll shop.

Her swiping of the syrup off her cleared plate was interrupted with door opening once again. There were more men living here, and the lively atmosphere hadn’t broken around her, so a moment passed before the electricity in the air began to spark around her.

One word.

Her own name… in that voice…

It shattered the glass house around her, bringing the raging storm crashing down around the ruins. Her shoulders rose, head ducking down as if avoiding the ceiling that would crash atop her at any second.

The slush of each step like the strike of a whip against her skin. She shrunk down into the chair with every squish of his soaked shoes, lower into the seat as if wishing it would swallow her up and take her far away from him. Her fingers entangled in her raven locks, twisting hard to prove that this was real. Green eyes wide open, afraid of what happen should she shut them, but never rising from the view of her own lap.

“I’m terribly sorry for the trouble she’s caused you.”

Apologizing. Always apologizing on her behalf. Why? Why did every choice she make result in her mother apologizing about her? She followed the rules, yet it never stopped his constant shouting at her, never dissuaded that whip he wielded with the sharp tip. Begging, pleading, her mother on her knees, hands clasped.

Apologizing.

He’d never once ceased because of those words.

“I’ve been out in the storm searching all over, worried that something terrible had happened. I’m Oscar Arnette, her father, well, step-father but I love her like she was my own.” He spoke with a laugh, as if relieved to have found her. A fake smile plastered across his face.

You should have never brought her here! All she does is cause me grief!

Keep her locked in her room!

You foolish, insolent child!

Those were words of love? Words spit at her as if she were a speck of dirt marring his clean home, one he couldn’t wash away. Yelled in anger, in absolute hatred, tearing her heart and mind into crumbled pieces.

That is love?

Look at you! My beautiful girl! Come give your mama a big hug!

You are more special than any of the stars in the sky!

Her mother’s words. So differently spoken, always with a warm smile as bright as the sun itself, that chased away all the bad memories from her day. The only one who looked at Alara as a child that was wanted.

“I’m so confused,” Her whisper barely audible at all. Oscar’s calm tone explaining how he’d come to find her clashed louder than the thunder above with her memories etched with his shouting on those days he beat her till she went numb. Did he love her? Was that love?

Napoleon rose from his chair, blocking his advancement towards her. Heavy tension fell over the silent room. A declaration that they did not intend to simply let him take her. “It would be wise for you to keep your distance.

The other residents in the room were watching the intruder just as carefully. It brought a hushed pause, no one making the first move. Le Comte assessed the situation before him. The genuine fear radiating from the girl shielding herself came from years of mistreatment. This man, the source. “Shall we have a chat, Monsieur Oscar, in my study perhaps?”

“Oh no, there’s no need. Alara, you’ve caused enough trouble for these gentlemen. Come along, now.” His hand reached towards her, intent on taking her with him this instant.

So many times, those hands brought her nothing but pain. Her body reacted before she thought her actions through. Ducking under the table, the carpet caught her small frame, roughly jarring her from the impact. The very notion of him touching her crawled across her skin like a thousand bugs.

She did not want to go with him. If his actions reflected love, then she never wanted to experience love again.

A resigned sigh came from Oscar as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough theatrics.” He paused, searching for the perfect words to draw her out.

“I believe you’re confusing theatrics with terror, old boy,” Arthur replied, not a drop of humor in his words. No one should strike that much fear into a child. He remained in his seat, arm outstretched to the now empty chair beside him, another barrier for the man to overcome before he would ever reach the girl.

Oscar feigned a graceful smile. “You must be careful with this one. Her imagination runs extremely rampant, causing all the fuss amongst my staff and guests. Just the other day she proclaimed the maids and butlers’ demons that must be slayed by her own hands. It’s extraordinary what children dream up–”

Dazai leaned forward to rest his arms against the table’s edge, a sly smile upon his lips. He could see right through the act before him. “Alara-chan only sows the seeds of truth that are blooming in all their sorrowful beauty, grown by the pain endured. While you, sir, only reap the strongest of vines with thorns slick with all your lies.”

“Preposterous. You’re believing a child’s fantasies!”

“My job requires me to spot a fake from the real thing and you are the most blatantly fake man I’ve ever encountered,” Theo interjected, blue eyes narrowed in pure disgust. Men like him were the lowest.

Oscar remained composed, though all could see the cracks growing ever larger with the passing of every second. “It’s time to go, child. Don’t you want to see your mother?” A last resort but it yielded the results he sought.

“Mama? She-” The quivering girl didn’t come out, but the hope in her voice was evident. It drew out an ache from all the residents, her innocent belief that for once, the truth was being told to her.

“Yes, yes. You can see her again if you come with me.” Sweet and empty words twisted as skillfully as a spider’s web meant to lull the struggling moth into its clutches.

Napoleon seized his arm as he moved to reach for her again. The seasoned soldier, the emperor, could spot the deceit dripping from every inch of the man. Words always meant something, and to see them being twisted into false hope made Napoleon ill. “Tell me how you became so splayed with blood.”

Oscar’s clothes drenched with bloodstains that not even the storm could wash away from him. His irritation had grown, no more faked smiles. “I’ll insist that you release me. I am taking what belongs to me and will be on my way.”

“She isn’t–” Isaac spoke up, eyes downcast at his lap but anger rising in him. “Alara isn’t your property that you can just claim and take away.” Kids were a mystery to him, but each time she smiled and asked him a question about himself, Isaac had felt warm and… happy.

The Frenchman could hardly fathom why these strangers were protecting a brat that they hardly knew. What could they possibly gain from this? He rolled his shoulders, giving a breathy laugh. “Ah, it must be a reward you are after. Name your price and-”

“I assure you, Monsieur, no payment is required. Her well-being is our priority.” Comte cut him off, an edge to his voice.

“Her well-being?” How much had the mousy child told them? The rage boiling up inside him became too much, overpowering his need to save face.

None of them could have predicted his next choice of action.

Oscar lunged, surprising the seasoned solider, and clambered wildly to the girl under the table. From the lining of his soaked jacket, he slashed a sharpened knife at her. “I’ll punish you thoroughly when we’ve returned to my home,” He growled through clenched teeth.

Alara reeled back, squealing in pain at the slice of the blade across her shin. Her entire being petrified at the crazed glint in his eyes.

Everyone moved at the same time. Chairs were knocked backwards, slamming into the carpet. Napoleon grabbed the collar of Oscar’s jacket, roughly tossing him away from the table and onto the floor.

Vincent had taken the girl in his arms, cradling her like a bride to keep her secure. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.” he had her tight, turning his back to the scene to shield her from view. He kept his rage hidden well behind a reassuring smile.

Oscar staggered but rose to his feet, only to be at the end of Napoleon’s drawn sword. He held up empty hands. “Give her to me and this will all be over.” Oscar cursed himself letting her escape his grasp once again.

“Down, put me down,” Alara whined over and over, struggling against the painter to no avail. She couldn’t remain here. He’d ignited her fears tenfold.

Vincent held her tighter, voice soothingly soft. “You don’t need to run again. You’re safe with us.”

“I’ll advise you to take a seat, Monsieur Oscar. We will have a civil discussion.” Comte left no room for argument. He’d seen quite enough. It’s no surprise she climbed through their kitchen window seeking refuge from this man. “Vincent, take Alara up to the guest room. Children need not be present for this.”

****

Her soft sniffs were all that filled the bedroom for a moment. Arthur and Isaac had followed after the painter, who still had the girl sitting on his lap. She’d refused to be put down. He gently brushed his fingers through her raven locks, slowly calming her down.

Arthur had her wounded leg stretched out, resting against his knee. The cut hadn’t been very deep, but the once doctor took his time cleaning the blood away and wrapping it with a bandage. “There all finished,” Arthur flashed her a warm smile.

Isaac stood awkwardly to the side. He could hardly find the words to say, nothing seemed appropriate.

All three men were visibly worried about how this would end. The display of the stepfather had rattled them, too. Comte would resolve the issue, but then what? Where would the little girl go with no family to send her to?

Soft rapping at the door drew all their attention. Locked from the inside for extra safety didn’t stop the tension from rising once again, but it fell again as Napoleon entered the room. “Jean agreed to stay with Comte.” He didn’t say it, but he’d come as added protection. As if reading the room, Napoleon smiled reassuringly. “Don’t fret, Alara. He’ll be gone soon.”

Alara bit her lip. She desperately wanted to believe him, but they didn’t know her stepfather as she did. He always got what he wanted. And… he wanted to hurt her. Even in this room surrounded by strong men, she didn’t feel safe.

Arthur clapped his hands together to gain all the attention back on him. “Why don’t you play a game with me, hm?”

“What kind of game?” Her curious interest bringing a more relaxed atmosphere.

“A guessing game.” Arthur held up a gloved finger. “I’m going to guess something about you, and you tell me if I’m right or wrong. It’s very simple, isn’t it?” There were many gaps to fill in about her and how she came into this situation.

Her head bobbed in response. The writer successfully had taken her mind off the earlier events.

“I’m guessing that you came from a very different country than France.” His first question not really one that had taken much to figure out.

Alara gave a soft yes, eyes darting around the room as if imagining what her home had been before coming to France. Not a home near as a grand this, nor the one that her and her mama had been brought to. “We left home when I was three. I liked it there. It was just me and Mama.”

Three years in this country. Three long years with that brute of a man causing her physical and mental harm.

She shielded a yawn with her hand, the adrenaline wearing away and replaced by exhaustion. The hour growing later, evident in the soft chime of the clock on the wall, signaling a new day.

“Why don’t you lie down?” Vincent shifted to make room under the covers but softly chuckled at her refusal.

A soft no. Alara leaned her cheek against his chest, fingers gripping his sleeve to pull his arm back around to cradle her against him. Safe. Within his arm, she could nearly say she felt completely safe.

“My second guess is that you don’t really like France, do you?” Arthur drew her attention back to him. He wasn’t so much guessing as leading her into a topic. Kids had few filters, so maybe she’d let more slip than she would realize.

“Mm… I miss our old home. Mama would take me out to the market or to the lake sometimes. Here… I could only go in the backyard for a few minutes.”

Stun fell over the room. Not only had she endured suffering at the hands of a monster, but the little girl had been trapped inside a home where she received little more than the bare necessities to survive.

Napoleon leaned back against the wall, finding it harder to sit here and do nothing when the culprit sat downstairs sipping tea with Comte. He listened to Arthur ask her more questions, each one leading into a topic more serious than the last, and her answers growing more heart wrenching.

He says that should someone see me; he doesn’t want to be bothered by stupid questions. I’m not allowed to play with the nice dresses on.

Sometimes if I’m bad, I have to stay in my room all day. It’s small and the window is too high for me to reach. And… it’s really cold. I don’t like it in there.

By not saying many words, she said so much. Topics about her old home would light her up for a moment, remembering the times before France. In a child so young, the four nearly couldn’t bear to watch that innocence fade from her green eyes, replaced by fear and worry.

She fought against sleep as hard as she could, but the soothing petting of the painter holding her had lulled her under. Vincent carefully put her in the bed, under the warm covers, gazing down at her. “This isn’t right.”

A light rap at the door. Napoleon warily unlocked it, hand on the hilt of his sword. Sebastian stood on the other side, no changes in his typical demeanor. He’d only come to deliver a message.

“M. Le Comte has called for a house meeting. Everyone is to be in attendance in the dining hall in 5 minutes.”