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cuntyji · 3 days ago

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THE FOOL’S GUIDE TO ROMANCE ౨ৎ GETO SUGURU X READER

synopsis: when a man loves a woman, he might bring her flowers or send a sweet text like 'i want you lol.' but if you’re suguru geto, you let a deck of tarot cards decide your destiny—and promptly shuffle your way into misery. hopelessly in love with you (and equally hopeless at expressing it), geto takes his shot which backfires spectacularly, leaving you heartbroken and him scrambling to fix it. now, armed with charm, determination, and way too many tarot cards, geto is ready to heal your heart. just watch your step—the floor’s basically a tarot card crime scene.

content warnings: female reader, suggestive content (alcohol consumption and mentions of weed), crack and romance, somewhat axed [happy] ending, college setting, geto is into tarot, strangers to lovers, he fell first she fell harder, frat parties and other college nonsense. other characters: choso, yuki, gojo, nanami, shiu, toji.

author's note: all my love to my darling @nkopurin who helped proofread this fic for me 💘💐 and to my lovely @norikuna and @baepsays, this is for you 🙂‍↕️ lovely themed dividers are courtesy of @thecutestgrotto <3

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when a man loves a woman, he brings her flowers and confesses his love to her. or, if he’s born in the modern world, he might just text her something eloquent like, “hey, i want you lol.” but if you’re suguru geto, you let tarot cards take the wheel—literally.

allow one to explain.

see, geto isn’t exactly an atheist. he believes in higher powers, just unconventional ones. namely, the cheapest tarot deck he impulse-bought during a 2 a.m. existential crisis. initially, he thought it was all nonsense until he pulled a random card one day, and boom—it was the tower. later that week, his microwave exploded.

from then on, he never questioned the cards again.

fast-forward to now: geto has become a full-blown tarot enthusiast. not only does he offer readings for spare cash (because be so for real right now, enlightenment isn’t free), but he also uses the cards to make most of his decisions. thinking of switching shampoo brands? better pull a card. deciding between ramen or sushi for dinner? the hanged man says to wait and order nothing—oops, now he’s just hungry. naturally, he consults the cards for the big things too—like love. and this is where you come in.

he met you at the library. a rom-com-level meet-cute where you helped him pick up the stack of books he’d dropped because he was too busy arguing with a ten of swords card about whether his day was ruined or just mildly inconvenient. from that moment on, you became his muse, his star (literally, he pulled that card the next day and nearly fainted). but here’s the catch: geto doesn’t just pine over you in the normal way. no, no. every interaction with you has to be sanctioned by the cards first.

want to say hi? better shuffle the deck and see if the lovers comes up. want to ask you out? he needs at least the sun for good vibes and the two of cups for confirmation. unfortunately, his last reading told him to “embrace patience” because the hermit popped up—twice.

to his credit, geto is fully committed to this tarot lifestyle. he even gets creative with the interpretations. one time, the cards said he’d encounter a "pig," which he thought meant an actual pet pig was coming his way. turns out, it was just pork belly ramen. but let’s get back to you. every time he sees you, he tries to decipher what the cards are trying to tell him. are you his queen of cups, emotionally available and empathetic? or are you secretly the high priestess, hiding mysteries he’s yet to uncover? (spoiler: you’re just a normal person trying to borrow a book, but he doesn’t know that.)

but let’s take a moment to shift focus from our friendly neighborhood king of wands (that’s geto, by the way, for the tarot illiterate) and zero in on you. because, bless your heart, you’ve got no time for the mystical nonsense of divination.

it’s not that you hate tarot or people who swear by it. it’s just… it’s never worked for you. every time a flower-crown-wearing oracle pops up on your fyp, telling you to “like, comment, and share this reading so the universe will bless you with abundance and good fortune,” you do it. and guess what? the universe does not bless you. no windfall of cash, no twin flame reunion, and absolutely no lucky day on the horizon. instead, you’re stuck in a perpetual cycle of disappointment and thinking, am i cursed? or is this just capitalism?

so, when you bump into a guy muttering about the ten of swords in the college library, the sheer absurdity of the moment almost makes you laugh out loud. you help him pick up his books from the floor (because you’re not a monster), all while internally rolling your eyes. who even takes tarot this seriously? your brain whispers. but hey, it’s not like you’re ever going to see this weirdo again, right?

wrong.

enter the house party. directed by none other than the notorious gojo satoru, who probably pulled the fool for party planning and ran with it. naturally, the entire student body is there, including you, begrudgingly clutching a cup of what is probably alcohol but tastes like regret. you’re halfway through debating whether it’s worth sticking around when you spot him. yes, him. the library lad. and if you thought he was strange before, tonight he’s decked out in what can only be described as a “witchy” fit, complete with crystal necklaces and the kind of rings that scream don’t ask me about my birth chart unless you’re ready for a dissertation.

you’re just about to turn and flee when, of course, he spots you. he lights up like the sun card upright, and you can see the moment he decides to approach. fantastic. this is your life now. “hey,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to act cool. “do you believe in fate?”

oh, for the love of—

“no,” you deadpan, taking a sip of your regret juice. “but i do believe in bad luck, which is what brought me here tonight.” he laughs, and to your horror, it’s kinda cute. “well, maybe that’s just the wheel of fortune turning. what goes down must come up.”

you raise an eyebrow. “is that tarot-speak for ‘this party sucks’?”

“more like, ‘the spirits sent me here for a reason,’” he replies, holding up a deck of tarot cards like they’re his personal VIP pass. you groan, wondering if this is punishment for every time you ignored those scammy fyp readings. the universe works in mysterious (and frankly annoying) ways.

first off, geto would like to dedicate this evening’s award for “biggest asshole” to his childhood friend and eternal tormentor, gojo satoru, who claimed this was a fancy dress party. yes, fancy dress. not a house party. and like an idiot, geto believed him. hence the ensemble: the crystal necklaces, the dramatic rings, the black turtleneck that screamed “mystical bachelor #1.” he looked like halloween and a witch convention had a messy breakup and he was the collateral damage. and the kicker? the tarot cards stuffed into his bag. because apparently, those were his ticket into this party. gojo had threatened—no, promised—that he’d bar geto from entering his own damn best friend’s party unless he showed up prepared to do discounted tarot readings. because nothing screams “good fortune” like drunken frat boys demanding to know their future while spilling beer on your king of pentacles.

but before geto can fully spiral into regret, he spots you. you, across the room, holding a red solo cup like it’s your last lifeline in a sea of chaos. suddenly, the LED strip lights above seem to beam down like the sun on its brightest spring day, and he’s pretty sure he hears birds chirping (which is actually just gojo’s bose speaker blasting some god-awful remix). in this moment, geto feels something he hasn’t felt in a while: hope.

then he opens his mouth.

“the spirits sent me here for a reason,” he blurts out, voice brimming with… what’s the opposite of confidence? panic? regret? whatever it is, it’s not working.

he sees your eyebrow twitch. not raise—twitch. your eyes dart everywhere but at him, and he feels the metaphorical ten of swords stab his pride, one blade at a time. internally, his brain is screaming: really? “the spirits”? you couldn’t think of anything cooler? oh my god, you’re a loser. loser, loser, loser.

before he can even try to recover from the self-inflicted verbal disaster, the karaoke mic crackles to life, and a familiar voice echoes through the room. “geto suguru, report to the center hall!” gojo’s voice booms, loud and obnoxious. “your clients are waiting, my guy!”

clients? oh no.

geto freezes. you glance at him, your expression hovering somewhere between pity and mild secondhand embarrassment. internally, he’s spiraling: clients!? oh great. perfect. now i get to embarrass myself in front of you and half the drunk population of campus.

“don’t keep us waiting, mr. magician!” gojo cackles, clearly delighted with himself. geto trudges toward the center of the room, tarot cards in hand, sending a silent prayer to the universe: dear spirits, if you’re real, strike gojo down with lightning. or at least make him choke on his stupid mic cord. please. but no lightning comes. only more LED lights and the weight of his own humiliation.

the music screeched to an abrupt halt, cutting off mid-beat to usher in what gojo dramatically called “the immersive experience.”

immersive, my ass, geto thought bitterly, sneaking a glare at his white-haired tormentor. to make matters worse, gojo was now skulking over by the speaker, queuing up redbone by childish gambino, apparently convinced it was the anthem for “spooky tarot vibes.” geto’s fingers itched to throw the nearest ashtray at gojo’s ridiculously smug face but, alas, violence would have to wait. he had a job to do, courtesy of said smug face.

as he settled at the glorified low-rise table-turned-“dias,” he noticed a mix of amused faces, skeptical stares, and outright curiosity from the crowd. and among them, there was you. hovering near the edge, arms crossed, your expression was a mix of intrigue and i’m too cool for this but let’s see what happens anyway. and because geto was both cursed and stupid, he immediately started overthinking: wait, why are you here? are you here to judge me? no, that’s dumb. maybe you’re into tarot. oh god, what if you’re into tarot? does that make us soulmates? focus, suguru.

“first victim—i mean guest, is… nanamiiinnn kenntoooo!” gojo’s voice boomed through the mic, dragging geto out of his internal spiral. and lo and behold, it was nanami himself.

nanami kento, aka mr. ‘i-wear-a-suit-to-class,’ the guy who looked like he’d walked straight out of a finance magazine and into a frat party by accident. the fact that nanami was even here was baffling, but rumor had it he helped budget this whole thing. (which explained the alcohol tasting suspiciously cheap, considering half the budget went into walnuts being served as snacks.) he approached the table like he was heading into a board meeting, eyes sharp, posture straighter than an arrow. the man looked ready to audit geto’s soul.

as nanami sat down for his reading, his usual stoic expression firmly in place, geto shuffled the deck with practiced ease. “to make this as accurate as possible,” geto began, trying to match nanami’s serious tone, “it’s best if you touch the deck briefly. it helps with energy transfer.”

nanami raised a skeptical eyebrow but reached out, his hand hovering over the cards for a moment before he placed two fingers lightly on the top of the deck. the touch was so precise and deliberate that it looked more like he was testing the temperature of a cup of tea than connecting with his fate. geto suppressed a grin. “wow, nanami, really channeling all that emotional investment.”

“i don’t make a habit of emotionally investing in cards,” nanami replied dryly, retracting his hand. “if this reading goes poorly, i’ll hold you accountable, not the deck.”

“well, if the spirits hear that,” geto quipped, starting to lay the cards out, “they’re going to make sure your future includes nothing but overripe bananas and missed train schedules.”

“you’re lucky i don’t believe in spirits,” nanami deadpanned, though his gaze flicked to the first card with the faintest hint of curiosity.

“alright,” geto said, forcing a grin as he shuffled his deck. “what can i do for you? career? love life? deep existential crisis?”

“career,” nanami replied crisply, sitting down on one of the pillows like it was a very uncomfortable chair.

“classic.” geto nodded, laying the deck out for nanami to cut. “alright, the cards are ready to speak. let’s see what the spirits have in store for you.” as he flipped the first card, geto’s brain scrambled to process the sight: three of pentacles. okay, teamwork, collaboration. he could work with this.

“looks like you’re about to enter a new partnership,” geto said, his voice smooth and confident. “something involving… hard work, shared goals… a passion project, maybe?” nanami raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, geto panicked. was this guy about to call him out as a fraud? but then, the second card came up: the empress. geto let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“ah, abundance,” he continued, leaning into his role. “this project? it’s going to bring a lot of growth. creativity, maybe even something related to… food?” he hesitated for a split second before committing. “yeah, i’m seeing something culinary. like a bakery or—”

“a bakery?” nanami interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

geto froze. oh no. did he just completely miss the mark?

“uh… yes, a bakery,” he repeated, trying to sound confident. “does that resonate?”

nanami stared at him for a moment, then nodded. slowly.

“i’ve just started working part-time at a french bakery near campus.”

the room exploded. people started laughing, cheering, and hollering like geto had just predicted the apocalypse. even you, standing at the edge of the crowd, cracked a smile. geto barely kept his jaw from dropping. internally, he was screaming: no fucking way. i pulled that out of my ass. oh my god. the spirits are real. nanami, ever composed, simply stood, nodded once in approval, and walked off like this was just another day in the life of kento “bakery boy” nanami.

as the crowd settled down, geto slumped in his seat, trying to recover. his mind raced: okay, that went better than expected. maybe i can survive this. maybe even impress you. wait, are you impressed? i need to see if you’re impressed. he glanced at you, and there it was—that little amused smile, like you couldn’t believe what you’d just witnessed. and for the first time all night, geto felt like maybe he wasn’t a total loser.

the next poor soul—or menace, really—was shiu kong. and shiu, being no better than any average man, sauntered up to the makeshift “dias” with a cigarette dangling from his lips and promptly dumped all the ash from it onto geto’s carefully shuffled deck. geto froze mid-shuffle, staring down at his now-defiled cards like they’d been personally insulted. internally, he was screaming: did you seriously just ashen my pentacles? oh my god, shiu, i hope the spirits tell you your house will get haunted.

“relax, geto,” shiu drawled, clearly enjoying himself. “it’s just a little ash. adds character.”

“yeah? well, let’s see what the spirits think about your ‘character,’” geto muttered, giving the cards a mournful dust-off before proceeding. the first card flipped: the devil. oh, the irony.

“so,” geto began, deadpan, “looks like you’ve got some… business ventures coming up. something a little… unconventional?” the crowd leaned in, murmuring in anticipation. shiu raised an eyebrow, amused but also intrigued.

geto flipped the second card: the seven of cups.

“choices,” he said, tapping the card for effect. “you’ve got a lot of options ahead of you. but, uh… not all of them are exactly moral. or legal.” the crowd erupted, half in laughter, half in knowing cheers. shiu smirked, leaning back like he was the main character in a crime drama. “huh,” he said, feigning innocence. “well, that’s interesting.”

but when geto flipped the third card—the ace of pentacles—the room lost it. “looks like this… uh, deal is going to be quite lucrative,” geto said, trying to keep a straight face.

the crowd howled, people slapping their knees and hollering like this was the best stand-up routine they’d ever seen. gojo, however, had to be physically restrained by nanami and two others as he lunged at shiu, shouting, “WHERE IS IT, SHIU? TELL ME WHERE THE GREEN GODDESS LIVES!”

shiu simply winked, flicked his cigarette butt into an ashtray (finally), and strolled off the dias like a kingpin leaving his empire.

next up was toji zenin, a man so laid-back and unbothered he might as well have been horizontal. he approached the table with all the grace of a lion stalking prey, cracking his neck as he dropped onto the pillow like he’d been asked to fight someone instead of getting his fortune read. “alright, zenin,” geto said, shuffling the cards. “what do you want to know? career? love life? existential dread?”

“future,” toji replied simply, his deep voice making it sound way cooler than it had any right to.

the first card: the lovers.

“interesting,” geto said, glancing up at toji. “looks like there’s a big relationship in your future. something life-changing.”

toji smirked. “yeah? tell me more.”

geto flipped the second card: the sun.

“oh wow,” geto muttered, mostly to himself. “this relationship is going to bring you a lot of joy. looks like… a family, maybe? marriage?”

the crowd oohed, leaning in closer.

and then came the third card: the tower.

“oh,” geto said, pausing. “uh, okay. so, there might be some… challenges along the way. upheaval. a few bumps in the road.”

toji just shrugged. “i’ll handle it.”

the crowd cheered, someone shouting, “family man!” as toji stood, looking oddly pleased with himself. geto sat back, shaking his head. spirits, give me strength.

just as the crowd began to settle, gojo, ever the dramatic shit-stirrer, snatched the mic again. “ladies and gentlemen, we’ve saved the best for last!” he boomed, pointing a very theatrical finger in your direction.

“YOU! come on down!”

the entire room turned to stare at you, and suddenly, you were the main character in your own personal nightmare. “uh, no thanks,” you called back, waving him off. but gojo was having none of it. “don’t be shy! the spirits are calling for you! geto, back me up here!” geto, caught off guard, looked at you and then back at gojo. “uh…” he started, scratching the back of his neck. you sighed, muttering a quiet curse under your breath as you made your way to the “dias,” your steps heavy with regret. this was going to be great.

as you made your way to the dias, geto felt his life flash before his eyes—not the whole thing, mind you, just the highlights: stumbling across the cheapest tarot deck at 2 a.m. during a sleep-deprived existential crisis, spiraling into a tarot obsession because he accidentally predicted his microwave exploding, and somehow ending up here, in this exact moment, facing you, the literal love of his life, thanks to gojo’s meddling. screw the power of friendship, he thought bitterly. his “friend” was the reason he was sitting cross-legged on a glorified coffee table, dressed like the head of a coven, with his dignity hanging by a single thread.

but then it hit him. wait… can i rig this reading?

the idea was tempting. he could just “interpret” the cards however he wanted. twist the results. make it seem like the spirits themselves were shipping the two of you.

except.

he winced, imagining the sheer karmic hell that would rain down upon him if he tried to scam the spirits. knowing his luck, they’d make him the next hanged man—literally. so, when you finally sat down across from him and asked, casually, for a love reading (a LOVE reading????), geto swallowed hard and prayed to every higher power he could think of that the cards would be merciful.

the first card flipped: the knight of cups.

okay, not bad.

“so,” geto began, trying to sound confident and not like he was screaming internally. “the knight of cups suggests a romantic figure in your life. someone… sensitive, charming, maybe a little dreamy. they could be coming towards you—or they’re already here.” he glanced up at you, hoping for some kind of reaction, but you were too busy looking over at…

wait a second.

you weren’t looking at him. you were looking at… choso.

his heart sank. oh, you have got to be kidding me.

to be fair, he sort of understood the confusion. both he and choso had long dark hair (his sleek and tied back, choso’s styled into two distinct buns that somehow worked), and they were both tall with a quiet, brooding vibe. but choso? really?

before he could process the betrayal, he flipped the second card: the star.

“ah,” he said, forcing himself to focus. “the star indicates hope and inspiration. this person might bring healing into your life. they’re someone who stands out, who you’re drawn to in a special way.” again, your gaze flicked to choso, who was sitting across the room with his arms crossed, looking like a goth prince brooding over an edgar allan poe poem.

dear spirits, are you messing with me on purpose?

and then came the third card: the two of cups.

geto’s hands nearly slipped. oh, come on.

“the two of cups,” he said, clearing his throat. “this is… uh… a card of partnership. mutual feelings. a connection that could grow into something deeper.”

your eyes lit up. “wow, that’s so accurate!”

his heart soared for half a second before you turned to your friend and whispered, not so quietly, “do you think he means choso?”

geto’s soul left his body.

what part of ‘sensitive and charming’ screams choso?! he wanted to yell. okay, sure, the guy had his moments, but choso’s idea of romantic charm was probably something like offering someone his last cup of ramen without saying a word. to make matters worse, choso, sensing the attention, looked up from where he was sitting. his head tilted slightly, a single brow raised in confusion, and—oh, god—he gave you a small nod.

no, no, no, don’t encourage this! geto thought, panicking.

“well,” he said, attempting to recover, “the cards are open to interpretation. sometimes they’re symbolic, pointing to qualities rather than an exact person…”

but you weren’t listening anymore, too busy whispering excitedly to your friend about how much sense this all made. meanwhile, geto sat there, defeated, mentally drafting a resignation letter to the spirits. dear divine forces, i quit. i can’t do this anymore. please find someone else to deal with my romantic disasters. sincerely, suguru geto.

the next morning felt like the world had been retextured to ultra-HD. the sun was shining like it got a promotion, the birds outside your window sounded like they’d formed a symphony orchestra, and even the butter on your toast tasted like it had been hand-churned by angels. why was everything so ridiculously perfect? simple: for once in your life, a tarot reading seemed to have gone your way. your love life, once a barren wasteland of missed connections and unrequited crushes, was now looking up—looking up directly at choso kamo, the brooding star of your medieval and renaissance literature class.

sure, you’d had what the kids these days call a “hallway crush” on choso for a while. the kind of harmless admiration where you’d see him across the hall, brooding next to a window like he was in a gothic novel, and think, huh, i wouldn’t mind being the mysterious backstory to his tragic antihero arc. but a relationship? oh no, that felt too bold. too ambitious.

and yet here you were, butter molecules dissolving on your tongue, entertaining the idea that maybe this could be something real. it’s fate, you thought, smiling to yourself. the cards said so. who am i to argue with the universe?

your mind briefly flickered to last night. specifically to geto, who had looked like someone had popped all four tires on his emotional vehicle. his expression after your reading had been a mix of “i just dropped my ice cream cone” and “my goldfish got flushed before i could say goodbye.”

but that wasn’t your problem, right? he probably just felt left out or jealous that your reading turned out so great. or maybe he was tired from all the readings he had to do. surely it had nothing to do with you personally, right?

…right?

right.

well, no matter. you couldn’t spend your morning thinking about someone you weren’t even going to see again. which is precisely when karma, fate, or the universe—take your pick—decided to slap you across the face with irony.

enter medieval and renaissance literature class.

you strolled into class, head high, already composing your imaginary meet-cute scenario with choso. maybe you’d bond over the syllabus. or he’d compliment your handwriting. or he’d drop a deeply intellectual comment about milton that you’d piggyback off of. but then you stopped dead in your tracks because sitting in your lecture hall, wearing the exact same hair tie he wore at last night’s party, was none other than suguru geto.

oh no.

you blinked a few times, hoping he was just a hallucination brought on by too much optimism at breakfast. but no, there he was, slumped into his seat, looking like a ghost of his usual self. his hair, usually neat and tucked behind his ear, was now lazily hanging in front of his face, and his eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion. he didn’t even bother pulling out his notebook—what was the point when he could barely stay conscious?

since when does he take this class?

you quickly scanned your mental archives. how did i not notice him all semester? was he new? was he a ghost? or worse—was he always here, and you were too busy daydreaming about choso to notice?

you slid into your seat, trying to shrink yourself into invisibility. maybe he wouldn’t see you. maybe he wouldn’t even recognize you. except, of course, the universe wasn’t done laughing at you.

“hey,” came his familiar voice.

you turned your head slowly, like a rusty robot, and there he was, smiling faintly at you like the human embodiment of the “this is fine” meme.

“fancy seeing you here,” he said, his tone a little too casual for someone who probably still wanted to jump out a window over last night.

“uh… yeah. small world,” you replied, giving a very forced, very awkward laugh. meanwhile, in your head: oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, why is he here, why is he smiling, why does he look like he knows something i don’t?

“enjoying the afterglow of your reading?” he asked, raising a tired eyebrow. “sure am,” you said quickly, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. anything to avoid prolonged eye contact. “good,” he said, leaning back.

“because i’ve been thinking about that reading a lot.”

you froze mid-scribble. “oh? really?” you asked, trying to sound casual. emphasis on trying. he sighed, rubbing his temple. “yeah. not your reading, though. all twelve of them. from the party. last night.” you blinked, caught off guard.

“...you did twelve readings?”

“yup.” he let his head fall onto his desk. “i think i aged five years in one night. and gojo was the worst. again.” you couldn’t help but snort at that, some of the awkwardness ebbing away. “what did he ask this time?”

geto turned his head just enough to side-eye you from the desk. “wanted the cards to tell him who’s going to steal his sunglasses next.” you pressed your lips together to suppress a laugh. “did they?”

“it’s nanami.”

that was enough to crack you, and you laughed, loud enough to earn a few curious glances from your classmates. geto’s lips twitched into a small, tired smile. you placed your pen down and tilted your head. “so, is this why you look like you got hit by a train today?”

he groaned, cracking open an energy drink from his bag. “it’s not just the readings. it’s this class, too. pop quiz vibes are strong in the air today.”

oh no. oh no no no.

the silence between you both started to feel heavier. your brain, helpful as ever, decided to go on overdrive again: what now? do i keep talking? does he think i’m weird? why haven’t i noticed him in class before? god i’m the worst—focus, focus, focus!

you glanced at him, and he glanced at you at the same time, which immediately triggered the universal law of awkward eye contact. you both darted your eyes away—him, to the blank notebook page in front of him; you, to the random doodle you’d been half-heartedly scribbling. “so,” he started, clearing his throat, his voice softer now, “what’s today’s lecture about?”

you stared at your notes like they might give you the answer, but all they offered was a series of lines that could maybe pass as a badly drawn cat. “uh… poetry analysis, i think?”

“right. poetry,” he said, nodding like he hadn’t just forgotten the subject of the class he was literally sitting in. he flipped open his notebook, which was suspiciously empty, save for a solitary doodle of a fat cat in the corner. the professor walked in then, saving you both from the growing, almost tangible awkwardness.

you turned forward, suddenly very interested in the lecture, clutching your pen like it was a lifeline. from the corner of your eye, you saw geto doing the same, pretending to focus, though his hand moved so slowly across the page that you were certain he wasn’t writing anything at all.

the silence stretched, and though you were no longer speaking, the air between you was thick with unspoken words and stolen glances. by the time the professor started droning on about rhyme schemes, you were convinced you could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. and yet, there was something oddly comforting in the shared awkwardness. something almost warm. but you didn’t dare look at him again. not yet. not while your face still felt embarrassingly warm.

if the spirits were going to turn geto into the hanged man for tampering with the cards, maybe he should’ve gone ahead and done it. at least then he wouldn’t be sitting here feeling like the hanged man, every second of this medieval and renaissance literature class stretching on like a medieval torture session.

you were right next to him. close enough to tap on the shoulder, whisper a joke about the professor’s outdated slides, or just breathe the same air while he attempted to craft a coherent sentence to get your attention. but no—at this very moment, your eyes were glued to the door, scanning it like a hawk waiting for its prey.

or, in this case, waiting for choso.

oh, choso, with his eternal frown and hair that looked like he shampooed it in the tears of the damned. what was so special about him anyway? geto could brood too. hell, he could brood with tarot cards and deep existential questions about life.

as you continued to ignore him, geto ran through his increasingly desperate options:

act like a monkey and perform an interpretative dance of his love in front of you.

risk incurring the wrath of the spirits by doing some very questionable card tricks.

drop to his knees and just beg you to look at him.

...or—and this was a truly radical thought—he could just talk to you like a normal human being. with great effort, geto willed his hand to raise, aiming to gently tap your shoulder and finally say something. hey, what’s your favorite renaissance play? wanna talk about the tragic themes in marlowe’s works? wanna skip class and—

but before his hand could make contact, the door opened.

and in walked choso.

with yuki tsukumo.

geto’s hand froze mid-air, and his jaw dropped like a drawbridge at a medieval castle. he wasn’t the only one either—your reaction was just as dramatic, except yours was tinged with the sound of your heart shattering into tiny, pulverized shards. shards that were promptly scooped up, shoved into a blender, and liquefied by the sight before you.

because while you were looking at choso, choso was looking at yuki.

and geto? geto was looking at you.

this tragic little love triangle—or maybe square, if you factored in the spirits hovering over geto like disappointed parents—was the tragic renaissance play no one asked for but somehow everyone got.

as yuki giggled at something choso said (giggled??? choso kamo has a sense of humor?), you slumped back in your seat, the light in your eyes dimming faster than the candles in a poorly ventilated cathedral. meanwhile, geto stared at the side of your face, willing his brain to think of something, anything, to say that could somehow salvage this situation.

but all he could think was: what is love?

followed closely by: baby, don’t hurt me.

you wanted to die. not in the "clutching a vial of poison in a tragic shakespearean way" kind of die, but in the "husband went to battle and never came back" kind of die, except your so-called husband wasn’t even yours to begin with. you were in a one-sided relationship so intense it deserved its own jane austen adaptation, except instead of a romantic ending, it seemed like you’d just be crying into your embroidery hoop.

and honestly? you got it. you saw why choso was acting like that around yuki. the guy looked like he’d seen heaven for the first time, smiling at her like she’d just invented fire or something. for choso, whose default setting was somewhere between “terminally annoyed” and “what’s the point of existence,” this was monumental. so, like any reasonable, heartbroken woman, you didn’t turn to another potential suitor for comfort. no, no. you sought out something far more powerful. solace. clarity. divine intervention.

...in the form of tarot cards.

you turned to geto, sitting beside you in all his slightly disheveled glory, and the look in your eyes was nothing short of pleading. you didn’t need to say anything for him to understand. you wanted answers.

"do a reading for me. right now."

your voice was low, but it carried the weight of a thousand broken hearts and at least two adele songs. you probably sounded like a woman on the brink of asking to see the manager of the universe.

geto blinked at you, taken aback. he hadn’t even had a chance to process the spectacle unfolding before you two—choso cracking a smile at yuki, yuki leaning in closer—before you demanded spiritual insight like you were trying to summon the oracle of delphi.

"a reading?" he asked, cautiously, like you’d just asked him to perform surgery on a grape.

"yes, a reading. right now.” you punctuated your words with a look so intense it could’ve melted through the linoleum floors. "i need to know what the spirits have to say about my love life because clearly," you gestured dramatically towards choso and yuki, "i’ve been living in delusion."

you were not joking. in fact, you were about two seconds away from rummaging through geto’s bag yourself to pull out the cards.

geto, to his credit, did his best to keep a straight face, but internally he was screaming. this was not how he imagined getting your attention. where was the romantic small talk? the flirty banter? instead, he was being asked to summon metaphysical clarity in the middle of a lecture hall. “you realize we’re in class, right?” he asked, gesturing towards the professor, who was obliviously droning on about chaucer.

“what’s more important—canterbury tales or my rapidly deteriorating sense of self-worth?” you deadpanned, arms crossed.

he sighed, already regretting his life choices, but reached into his bag anyway. this was going to be a very, very long class. as he shuffled the cards, you leaned in closer, practically vibrating with desperation. geto thought for a second that maybe the spirits would smite him for doing this, but at least he could die knowing he was, in some absurd way, your chosen source of comfort.

the reading became, as irony would have it, your single biggest source of suffering. every time geto pulled out a card, it felt less like a reading for your love life and more like an unwelcome live commentary on choso and yuki’s blossoming connection.

“all right,” geto muttered, flipping over the first card, “three of pentacles. this suggests an opportunity to collaborate or share.”

you nodded eagerly, until your eyes betrayed you and drifted over to the sunlit corner where choso and yuki were seated. and oh, what was that? choso handing her his highlighter? a stabilo one, no less? lending stationery wasn’t just helpful; it was practically a love confession in academic circles.

your stomach dropped. “okay, that’s a fluke. what’s the next one?”

geto hesitated but drew the next card. “uh, ace of cups. could mean new opportunities for emotional connection. an offer, maybe.”

you turned back to look at choso just as yuki reached out and flicked a piece of lint off his sweater. his vintage, thrifted sweater.

your jaw tightened as your sharp eye for fashion immediately clocked every detail of the piece—the carefully worn texture, the faintly faded yet intentional color palette, the hand-stitched hem that was too perfect to be mass-produced. vintage. thrifted. possibly one-of-a-kind.

and there was yuki, just casually touching it like it was some department store clearance item. your fists clenched around your pen as you sat there, practically vibrating with indignation. next to you, geto raised a curious eyebrow. “you okay?” he whispered, leaning in slightly.

“i’m fine,” you replied through gritted teeth, though your gaze was still locked on yuki and the sweater. “it’s just…some people don’t understand the sanctity of vintage clothing.”

geto blinked at you, then at yuki and choso, his expression half-amused, half-confused. “right… the sanctity.” you ignored him, seething quietly as yuki smiled, entirely unaware of the silent judgment radiating in her direction. flicking lint off a thrifted piece? unforgivable.

“all right, one more card,” he said, trying to keep you from spiraling. “the sun. it’s a positive sign. it means there’s hope, clarity—happiness at the end of the road.” you weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t to glance back at choso and yuki basking in literal daylight streaming through the classroom windows.

meanwhile, you and geto were shivering in the poorly heated corner of the room, shrouded in cold shadows, and probably misery.

"well," you muttered, shoving the cards away from you like they were personally responsible for ruining your day. "thanks for nothing, spirits."

“don’t blame the cards!” geto whispered, as if the spirits themselves were about to jump you in the hallway after class.

“oh, i will blame them. i’m blaming all of it—tarot, the universe, my horoscope. even you.” you jabbed a finger at geto. he raised his hands defensively. “me? i’m just the messenger!”

“yeah? well, tell your spirits to pick someone else next time,” you snapped. “preferably someone not already taken.”

you turned back to your notebook, seething quietly, while geto, to his credit, really did try to make it right. he wasn’t about to charge you for what was basically a tarot drive-by, especially not one that seemed to have single handedly ruined your faith in divination, fate, and possibly humanity. as class ended and you bolted for the door, he scrambled to follow, shoving his cards into his bag haphazardly as if they might somehow soften the mess he’d unknowingly made.

“hey, wait! i’m sorry!” he called out, weaving through the crowd of students like a man on a mission—or, more accurately, like a very apologetic cat chasing a laser pointer. you knew you should’ve stopped. you knew he wasn’t at fault—how could he be? he didn’t control the cards, and even if he did, it wasn’t like he made choso and yuki sit under a literal beam of sunshine together like a rom-com poster come to life. but pride is a tricky thing, and yours had dug its claws deep.

“it’s fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, speeding up to create distance. but geto, persistent and well-meaning as ever, wasn’t giving up. “no, it’s not fine,” he said, keeping pace with you. “i didn’t mean for it to—look, it wasn’t about you. well, it kinda was, but not like—ugh, just let me explain!”

you stopped abruptly, and geto nearly tripped over his own feet to avoid crashing into you. your chest was tight, not from running, but from the mess of feelings swirling around: anger, hurt, and worst of all, embarrassment. you turned to him with a glare sharper than it had any right to be.

“i don’t need an explanation, okay? i get it. it was stupid of me to think it was about me in the first place,” you snapped, and the second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

geto blinked, taken aback, and for a split second, you caught the way his expression shifted—like he’d been hit with a blow he hadn’t expected. his shoulders sagged slightly, his usual calm demeanor faltering. “that’s not what i meant at all,” he said softly, voice barely audible over the buzz of students passing by.

the pang in your chest deepened, but before you could give it more thought, you turned and hurried away, leaving him standing there in the hallway. you didn’t look back, even though something in you wanted to. pride won again, as it always seemed to. but as you walked off, the image of his expression stayed with you, burned into the back of your mind like a guilty little ghost you couldn’t shake.

later that evening, geto sat at his desk staring at his tarot cards like they were a cheat sheet for life that had suddenly decided to go blank. the spread in front of him was chaotic at best: the tower, the three of swords, the five of cups. if the cards were trying to scream “you fucked up,” they were doing a great job. he sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he considered reshuffling for the fifth time that hour.

but then it hit him—like a very literal sign from above. a chunk of plaster from his dorm ceiling detached and bounced right off his head, leaving him rubbing his scalp and glaring up at the offending crack. “perfect,” he muttered. “thanks, universe. really appreciate the symbolism.”

it was then, mid-reckoning with gravity, that geto realized something important: this was not how tarot worked. it wasn’t a tool for undoing mistakes or bending the will of fate. if higher forces played by human rules, they wouldn’t be higher forces; they’d be coworkers who ignore emails. so, he did what any reasonable person would do when their usual method of problem-solving failed—he decided to reach out to you. to check if you were okay. rejection, even one involving misplaced feelings and stabilo highlighters, was a bitter pill to swallow, and he wanted to make sure you weren’t stewing in it alone.

but then another realization hit him, thankfully not a physical one this time: he didn’t have your number. or your social media. or literally any way to contact you that didn’t involve smoke signals or breaking into your dorm like a lunatic. waiting until tomorrow felt wrong, so he did what any unhinged-but-earnest guy would do.

he opened his email.

geto scrolled through his inbox with the dedication of a scholar deciphering ancient texts. his literature professor had this habit of sending class-wide emails—updates, reminders, existential musings, you name it. surely, somewhere in that chaotic thread, your email address was lurking. “ah, here,” he whispered triumphantly when he found one, squinting at the long list of recipients. his finger hovered over your name as if clicking it would summon you like a genie.

now came the hard part: drafting an email that didn’t sound like a confession of a crime. he typed furiously, deleting sentences almost as fast as he wrote them.

Subject: just checking in hey, i hope this doesn’t come off as weird but i wanted to check if you’re okay after class today. i know things got kind of intense and i just wanted to make sure you’re doing all right. if you need someone to talk to or even rant at i’m here. seriously. sorry if this email is out of the blue but i couldn’t wait till tomorrow to say something. take care, s. geto

he stared at the draft like it might sprout fangs and bite him. “is this too much? not enough? why do i sound like an HR rep?” after a moment of panic and one deep breath, he hit send before he could overthink it further.

leaning back in his chair, he stared at the ceiling (or what was left of it) and muttered, “smooth, geto. real smooth.”

meanwhile, back in the academy award-worthy drama that was your life, you paced the length of your dorm room like the unhinged protagonist of a spy film—except instead of planning a heist, your master plan was not having an emotional breakdown. and frankly, it wasn’t going great.

why was this such a big deal anyway? choso wasn’t the love of your life. you didn’t have pictures of him taped to your wall like a deranged scrapbooker. sure, he had great bone structure and an aesthetic that could front a band no one’s ever heard of, but did he own your heart? no.

so why the hell was rejection stinging like you just got voted off a reality show? oh, right. because it wasn’t just choso. it was the whole concept.

the idea that maybe, just maybe, for once in your life, the stars or the cards or something might give you a break. but nope. no knight in shining armor, no grand declarations of love, just... lint-flicking and stabilo-sharing with someone who wasn’t you.

and, of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, guilt was there to crash the party, too. poor geto. you practically bit his head off in class, and for what? doing his job as the accidental harbinger of bad news? great job, you. what’s next—yelling at the weather? just as you were about to descend into yet another spiral, this time brought to you by regret and self-loathing, your phone pinged obnoxiously loud. you froze mid-pace. that sound? that horrible custom sound you set for college emails? you grabbed your phone like it was a live grenade and squinted at the screen.

from: [email protected] subject: just checking in

your mouth hung open as you stared at the preview. the email equivalent of puppy eyes. of course. because why let the guilt marinate quietly when it can now come with words? opening the email, you read through his message, and something in your chest twisted. he wasn’t even being dramatic. no passive-aggressive digs, no over-apologizing, just... concern. genuine, sweet concern. “ugh,” you muttered, flopping onto your bed as you thought about how to respond without sounding like you were unraveling emotionally. you began typing, deleting, retyping, then deleting again.

Subject: re: just checking in hi, thanks for reaching out. i’ve been better. today was a bit of a mess, but that’s not your fault. i shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. it was unfair and i’m sorry for taking my frustration out on you. ig i just got caught up in the whole idea of things working out for once yk. and when it didn’t, it stung more than i expected. but seriously i appreciate you checking in. it means a lot. take care, [your name]

you hovered over the send button for a second before hitting it, then tossed your phone onto the bed like it had personally wronged you.

“great,” you muttered to yourself, staring at the ceiling. “now i just look emotionally unstable and like a bitch.” but deep down, there was a strange kind of relief. maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t completely burned the bridge with geto.

maybe life didn’t feel like dolphins and rainbows with symphony by zara larsson playing in the background, but at least you woke up without the overwhelming urge to set your entire life on fire. progress.

you had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t mad about choso being taken. honestly, good for him and yuki—they had the chemistry of two hot protagonists in a slow-burn drama anyway. and hey, you weren’t mad at yourself anymore either. growth, right? but of course, the universe always had one more plot twist up its sleeve.

you walked into the supervised study session later that day, fully expecting to slink into your seat, avoid eye contact with choso and yuki, and pretend you were a background character in your own life. instead, you were greeted with... a display. there, right in front of your usual spot, stood geto with what could only be described as a care package for someone emotionally devastated—or recovering from surgery. maybe both.

a soft, ridiculously fluffy blanket was folded neatly on your desk, next to a neck pillow that looked like it could cure insomnia. there were snacks—chips, cookies, even a little bag of trail mix because apparently, he cared about your protein intake. and drinks, plural, including tea, juice, and water, because hydration was key, obviously. oh, and let’s not forget the vitamin gummies.

vitamin. gummies.

“uh...” you managed, staring at the scene like it might morph into something less... earnest.

“good morning!” geto beamed at you, his expression the human equivalent of a golden retriever wagging its tail. “i, uh, thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

you blinked. “a little? what, are you preparing me for the apocalypse?”

he laughed, a soft, sheepish sound as he scratched the back of his neck. “just thought it might help. you know, in case yesterday was still... lingering.”

you glanced at the pile of comfort on your desk, then back at geto, who looked so genuine it made your chest ache a little. sure, he could’ve just emailed back with a “glad you’re okay,” but no, he’d gone all in like he was running a wellness retreat. “this is... wow, geto,” you said, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “you really didn’t have to.”

“i know,” he said, his tone almost shy. “but i wanted to.”

and that’s when it hit you. as your eyes flickered to choso, who was scooting his chair closer to yuki with the subtlety of a rom-com lead, your gaze naturally found its way back to geto. the ridiculously awkward, long-haired boy in front of you, who apparently thought vitamin gummies were the solution to all of life’s problems, was now the one pulling at your focus.

ah, drat.

“well,” you said, sitting down and letting yourself sink into the cocoon of comfort he’d assembled, “you better not have used up your entire snack budget on me.”

“nah,” he said with a grin, pulling a pack of tarot cards out of his bag. “besides, i’m saving my budget for these bad boys.” you groaned, but it was accompanied by a smile. yeah, maybe life wasn’t all dolphins and rainbows, but it wasn’t so bad either.

respectfully speaking, geto was shit scared when he got in all that stuff for you. sure, in his mind it had seemed like a good idea—people liked snacks, right? and blankets were universally comforting. vitamin gummies? maybe a little overboard, but hey, health was wealth. but now, watching you actually use the stuff, munching on a strawberry-centered wafer like it was your job, he felt a wave of something dangerously close to relief. you didn’t think he was weird. or at least, not weird enough to ignore free snacks. small victories.

still, the nervous churn in his stomach hadn’t entirely gone away. because what was this, exactly? a gesture of kindness? a peace offering? a declaration of love wrapped in a fleece blanket and stuffed with gummy vitamins? he had no idea. but if this was what it took to see you look this relaxed around him, he’d happily bankrupt himself. and then, just as he was settling into the warm, fuzzy feeling of semi-success, you hit him with the question.

“so,” you said, pausing mid-bite of a wafer, “what got you into tarot in the first place?”

oh no. oh no no no.

he froze, a deer in the headlights of your curiosity. because what was he supposed to say? the truth—that he bought a deck at 2 a.m. because it was on sale and looked cool? that he’d learned most of it from random youtube videos and a couple of moderator banned reddit threads? or should he go full storyteller and spin a wild tale about a mysterious mentor who handed him a deck and told him his destiny was written in the cards? you tilted your head, waiting for an answer, and he realized he couldn’t bullshit this. you didn’t seem like the type to fall for theatrics, and even if you did, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you.

“uh, okay, so, it’s not, like... that deep,” he began, scratching the back of his neck in the universal gesture of please don’t judge me. “basically, i was scrolling online one night, super late—like, 2 a.m. kinda late—and i saw this tarot deck on sale. it looked cool, so i bought it.”

you raised an eyebrow, and he scrambled to elaborate.

“and then i figured, y’know, i should probably learn how to use it, or else it’d just be, like, fancy cards lying around. so i watched some videos, read some guides... and, uh, here we are.” you stared at him for a moment, wafer halfway to your mouth.

“so, let me get this straight. you became the campus tarot guy because of a 2 a.m. impulse buy?”

“...pretty much, yeah.”

and then you laughed. not a polite chuckle or a restrained giggle, but a full-on laugh that made his chest feel like it was doing somersaults. “oh my god,” you said, shaking your head. “that’s so lame. like, impressively lame.” he grinned, the tension easing out of his shoulders. “yeah, well, lame seems to be working for me so far.” you smirked, popping the rest of the wafer into your mouth. “fair point.” and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. geto might not have had a mind-blowing origin story, but seeing you smile like that? yeah, he didn’t need one.

as time went on, you didn’t even notice how seamlessly geto had woven himself into your life. it wasn’t a dramatic shift—no grand confessions or pivotal moments—but more like the slow, steady filling of spaces you hadn’t realized were empty.

it started with sitting together in every class. at first, it was coincidence—his seat just happened to be free. but then it became routine. he’d drape his bag over the back of the chair next to him, a silent reservation just for you, and you’d slide into it without a second thought.

then came the library sessions. you told yourself it was practical; after all, two heads were better than one when it came to deciphering medieval metaphors. but somewhere along the way, practicality blurred into something else. the quiet companionship of those shared hours, the way you’d nudge his shoulder when he started to doze off, the small, secret smiles exchanged over the tops of textbooks—it all felt intimate. you thought about bringing it up, that the library was where you’d first met, but the idea felt too sentimental, too vulnerable. surely he didn’t remember that tiny detail.

little did you know, geto did remember. it was one of those memories he kept tucked away, revisiting it like a favorite line in a book.

of course, studying with geto came with its quirks. like the way he couldn’t resist pulling out his tarot deck every chance he got.

“do you really think the cards are gonna tell you if you’ll pass this exam?” you’d huff, grabbing the deck from his hands before he could shuffle it. “well, they’ve been right before,” he’d tease, leaning just a little too close as he reached for them.

“maybe if you spent half as much time studying as you do asking the cards, you wouldn’t need to worry about passing.”

he’d laugh, the kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” you’d swat his arm, and he’d pretend to be mortally wounded, clutching at the spot like you’d struck him with a sword. but secretly? that little bit of contact was enough to make his heart race. every single time.

and then there was the way you challenged him—gently, but firmly—to rely less on his cards.

“tarot’s supposed to guide you,” you’d say, flipping through his notes while he doodled idly in the margins. “not run your life.”

he didn’t argue, mostly because you were right. and slowly, he started to take your advice. he still used the cards, of course, but not for every little thing. he began to let the unpredictability of life happen, unfiltered by fate or forewarning. and you know what? it wasn’t all that bad. in fact, it was starting to grow on him—this strange, chaotic, beautiful mess of living. because somewhere in the middle of all the unpredictability was you, and that made it more than worth it.

you know that sinking feeling when you realize your phone is low-key betraying you? yeah, that’s the exact sensation creeping up your spine as you sit cross-legged on your dorm bed, thumb mindlessly scrolling through reels. your current mission: find the perfect meme or video to send to geto. because yes, somewhere between tarot readings and shared library snacks, you two finally exchanged instagram handles. a milestone, honestly. but of course, the universe has other plans.

as you scroll past a cat dancing to eurobeat, your screen flashes with a promoted ad: “astrotalk – find the answers to life here!”

right. because you were definitely talking about astrology out loud earlier. thank you, zuck. just as you’re about to swipe away, your phone does what it does best—it lags. your double tap, meant to like a reel, somehow registers as download app. the ding of success seals your fate.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, staring at the app’s cheerful icon now grinning at you from your home screen. you consider deleting it immediately but curiosity gets the better of you. besides, it’s not like anyone’s here to judge. so you open the app.

bright colors, cheesy taglines, and a cartoon moon with a winking face greet you. honestly, it’s a little cringe, but who cares? the app boasts a free love consultation for first-time users. after that? a steep $45 per reading. capitalism at its finest.

“might as well milk the freebie,” you mumble, tapping through the options.

it asks for your star sign first. easy. you enter it. then it asks for your potential match’s star sign. you blink.

why… why is geto’s sign the first one to pop into your head? you tell yourself it’s because his birthday came up recently, and you remember him casually mentioning he was an aquarius. totally not because you’ve been secretly keeping tabs.

you type it in and hit submit.

the screen takes a moment to load, suspense building as though the app is calculating the mysteries of the universe instead of running a basic algorithm. then, the results flash on the screen:

“YOU AND YOUR PARTNER ARE 90% COMPATIBLE! STRONG BOND POTENTIAL!”

“partner?” you scoff, a little too loudly for the empty room. “calm down, bro. we’re not even… ugh.” but you can’t help the heat creeping up your neck. because why does this feel so validating? like the app just confirmed something you weren’t ready to admit out loud. you toss your phone onto the bed, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters a little. “it’s just an app,” you mutter, flopping back onto your pillow. but as you stare at the ceiling, you can’t stop wondering. 90% compatible, huh? maybe the universe isn’t entirely out to get you.

the party was already in full swing by the time you and geto arrived, the unmistakable thrum of bass-heavy music vibrating through the walls and into your chest. the house, courtesy of everyone’s favorite socialite, gojo satoru, was packed wall to wall with students desperate to blow off steam after a particularly brutal exam season. the air was a heady mix of sweat, cheap booze, and cigarette smoke, oddly comforting in its chaos. fairy lights were strung haphazardly across the ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the sea of bodies swaying in time to the music.

as you stepped inside, your senses were immediately overwhelmed. the sticky heat of too many people crammed into one space hit you first, followed by the sharp tang of tequila and the smoky haze from a makeshift smoking area in the corner. the living room-turned-dancefloor was packed with a crowd that was equal parts gyrating and stumbling. “guess we’re really doing this,” you said, glancing at geto, who had already started scanning the room like he was bracing himself for impact.

his expression faltered for a moment before he shrugged. “it’s either this or another night of staring at my tarot cards, and they’re tired of me asking if i’ll pass my exams.” you laughed, shaking your head. “let’s get some drinks before this place gets even worse.”

before you could make it to the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy that could only be gojo grabbed geto by the arm. "hey, suguboo! come join the crew—nanami’s actually drinking tonight. it’s a miracle!" geto shot you a quick, apologetic look before being dragged off toward a cluster of familiar faces gathered near the makeshift DJ setup. you waved him off, muttering a quick "have fun" as you made your way toward the kitchen.

it was just as packed as the rest of the house, though marginally quieter. bottles of every cheap liquor imaginable lined the counters, accompanied by mismatched plastic cups and a suspiciously sticky floor. and that’s when you saw them—choso and yuki.

yuki’s bright smile was the first thing to catch your eye. she had that annoyingly magnetic energy, the kind that made it impossible to dislike her, even if she was spiking your drink to make it strong enough to knock out a small horse. “hey” she greeted, her voice cutting through the noise with ease. “you made it! here, have a drink—trust me, you need it after those exams.” you watched as she poured a generous amount of something clear and suspiciously strong into a cup, topping it off with a splash of what you hoped was juice.

choso stood next to her, his usual brooding aura softened just slightly by the festive atmosphere. he gave you a polite nod, but his attention was mostly on yuki as she handed you the drink. “uh, thanks,” you said, accepting the cup with a wary glance. it smelled potent, but the night was young, and if there was ever a time to throw caution to the wind, it was now.

as you took a sip—too strong, just as you’d expected—you couldn’t help but glance toward the living room, wondering how long it would take for geto to escape gojo’s clutches. something about the night felt charged, like the universe was waiting for something to happen. and for once, you weren’t entirely sure if you were ready for it.

you had barely processed yuki excusing herself to the ladies' room when half a cup of whatever unholy concoction she poured you started working its magic. stars were dancing in your vision, and your internal monologue was a mix of “am i drunk, or is this enlightenment?” and “what if i just lay down on this sticky floor and let the universe take me?” choso, ever the picture of stoic composure, stood by sipping his own drink, completely unaffected. in your infinite drunken wisdom, you decided now was the perfect time to recount the tarot reading debacle to him. because why not relive your most embarrassing moment at a house party with the person who unknowingly kickstarted it all?

“so, ya know,” you started, gesturing dramatically with your cup, “there was this thing that happened with geto's reading. you were there! nodding at me like i’d just won the love lottery or whatever. and i—oh my god, i thought you were into me.” choso blinked, unbothered as ever, though you noticed a faint crease of amusement in his brow. “uh-huh,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“yeah! and then i find out,” you continued, pointing at him accusatorily, “that you were actually into yuki, and i was out here thinking i was the main character in this tragic medieval romance novel! turns out, i wasn’t even in the prologue.” choso raised an eyebrow.

“to be fair, it was obvious you and geto would make a good match.”

the words hit you like a brick. you and geto?

“wait,” you said, staring at him like he’d just spoken in tongues. “me and geto? suguru? you’re telling me all that nodding and cryptic behavior was because you thought we’d be a good match?”

he nodded. “you both have this... thing. sensitive, charming, dreamy—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, holding up a finger, the fog in your brain clearing so fast it was dizzying. “don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“healing,” choso finished anyway, unbothered by your rapidly spiraling state.

you stood there, frozen, the memory of that reading slamming into you like a wrecking ball.

was he sensitive? yes. charming? puppy-eyed charm for days. dreamy? don’t get me started. healing? in the most absurd ways possible. mutual feelings? please, universe, say yes.

“oh my god,” you muttered, dropping your drink on the counter with a thunk. “oh my god.” choso sighed, shaking his head. “you’re really dense, aren’t you? no offense.”

“offense taken!” you snapped, already spinning on your heels. “but also, thanks, i gotta go.”

“what are you—?”

“find him!” you yelled over your shoulder, already weaving through the sweaty bodies on the dance floor like a woman on a mission. behind you, choso sighed dramatically, swirling his drink like he was in a shakespearean tragedy. “'tis true, love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’”

"stop quoting a midsummer night’s dream!" you shouted back, not even turning around.

you were a woman possessed as you weaved through the chaos of the party, dodging sweaty couples, discarded cups, and one guy inexplicably attempting to juggle shot glasses. where is he? you muttered under your breath, your eyes scanning every corner.

finally, you spotted geto sprawled on a couch in the corner of the room, looking like he was having an existential crisis at a house party—one leg thrown over the armrest, his hair half tied and half rebelliously escaping, his long legs stretched out like he owned the couch, and his expression screamed, "why am i here and how can i leave without offending anyone?" apparently, gojo and the gang had taken off to drunkenly compete in a swim-to-the-other-side-of-the-pool-without-drowning race, and geto, the only one with common sense, had respectfully declined.

your heart did a weird little flip-flop at the sight of him, though whether it was from nerves or the bacardi yuki had spiked your drink with, you couldn’t tell. however, had bigger problems. like the fact that your heart was about to stage a mutiny and jump right out of your chest. how were you even going to start this?

hey, i realized i love you the minute you showed up to class with vitamin gummies for me.or maybe it was when you emailed me, “just checking in” like a gentleman from the 1800s. or maybe it was every time you did something ridiculously thoughtful like it was nothing.

you took a deep breath, but all that came out was, "hey."

geto looked up, blinking at you like he wasn’t sure if you were real or just a figment of his daydreams. "oh. hey."

good start, you thought. very articulate.

you shuffled closer, ignoring the pounding in your chest. "uh, so... how’s the couch treating you?" he blinked again, a small smile tugging at his lips. "better than gojo’s swimming plans, i can tell you that much."

"right, yeah," you laughed awkwardly, standing there like a statue while your brain scrambled to form coherent thoughts. geto tilted his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. "you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost—or yuki with another drink for you."

"ha, funny," you said, before blurting out, "actually, i’ve been running around looking for you." his eyes widened slightly, and he sat up straighter, suddenly looking both amused and terrified. "oh? should i be worried?"

"no! no," you said quickly, waving your hands like you were fending off an accusation. "i just... there’s something i need to say, and, uh—look, i swear it’s not the bacardi talking." geto raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "you sure? because venus is in retrograde right now, and it’s messing with everyone’s feelings."

you froze. "wait, what?"

"venus. retrograde," he repeated, gesturing vaguely like that explained everything. "you know, the planet of love and all that? it’s doing its thing, so if this is about some cosmic realization—"

"no!" you interrupted, louder than intended, earning a few glances from nearby partygoers. "this isn’t about venus or renegades or whatever. this is about me. and you."

that got his attention. his smile faltered, and for a moment, he just stared at you, eyes wide, lips parted like he was afraid to speak.

"look," you continued, words tumbling out faster than your brain could process them. "i don’t care if mercury’s in gatorade or saturn’s doing cartwheels—i like you. no, wait, i love you. i love you because you care about things that no one else notices, because you do the kindest things without making a big deal out of it. because you..." you hesitated, your voice softening, "you make life feel... lighter. and if this ruins everything, then fine. but i needed you to know."

poor geto looked like he was experiencing every emotion known to man simultaneously. he let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. "are you sure you’re not drunk?"

"i love you," you repeated, because apparently, one humiliating confession wasn’t enough. "i mean, who wouldn’t? you’re... you’re geto! you bring vitamin gummies to class, you email me just to check in, and you—you just do these little things like they’re nothing, but they mean everything to me. and i—god, this is so embarrassing. i probably sound insane, don’t i?"

"no," he said quickly, his voice soft but firm. "no, you don’t. i—"

"oh my god," you cut him off, suddenly burying your face in your hands. "this is the bacardi talking. forget i said anything. or—or don’t forget. i don’t know. i’m spiraling, suguru. help."

"hey, hey," he said, leaning forward, his hands hovering awkwardly near yours as if he wanted to comfort you but didn’t want to scare you off. "breathe, okay? it’s fine."

you peeked at him through your fingers. "it is?"

he didn’t say anything at first. instead, he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "yeah," he said quietly.

"for the record," his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles, "venus retrograde has nothing to do with this. i’ve been in love with you since the first time you helped me with my books in the library."

you blinked. "wait, what?"

"yeah," he repeated, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "honestly, i’ve been in love with you for ages. i just—i didn’t think you’d feel the same way. you’re kind of out of my league, you know?"

"me? out of your league?" you laughed, the sound a little wobbly but genuine. "geto, you’re literally the human equivalent of a prince. you’re smart, you’re sweet, you’re ridiculously pretty—"

"okay, stop," he said, his face turning pink.

"no, seriously!" you insisted, a grin spreading across your face. "i’m half-convinced you’re not even real sometimes."

"well," he said, finally letting himself laugh, "if i’m not real, then who’s been buying you vitamin gummies and writing you sappy emails?"

"touché," you said, smiling back at him.

"love is a silly thing," he added, smiling softly. "but with you? it’s my favorite thing."

and just like that, your heart found its home.

thank you for reading till the end 🙂‍↕️ this is probably one of the shortest fics i've ever written LOL, the more i look at it the more unsatisfactory it gets.....but erm anyways blame that on the burnout 🕺!! i hope you liked reading this regardless, the concept has been on my mind for a while now ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v as usual, my "which reader are you" quiz has been updated with this fic as well, so be sure to take it and let me know if you got this fic or not! <3

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alittlesongbirdchirps · 3 days ago

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Stupid AU but absolute Batman and normal Batman swap places.

So now you got Abosolute Batman who is born in 2004, which makes him what around the same age as Tim but younger then dick and Jason.

And while Tim’s trying to figure out everything that’s make their worlds different he ask about the batcave.

Which confuses Bruce because his base is on top of abandoned construction site.

Then Dick ask about the Batmobile.

Only to find out it’s a giant ass mining truck.

And everyone’s confused, like why would Bruce pick equipment and places like that.

While that’s happening Jason begins to figure stuff out.

Stuff most people would never even consider for an alternative version of Batman, or of Bruce.

“You’re not rich?”

Doubt as Jason ask.

And Bruce raised an eyebrow

“Am I supposed to be?”

The cave erupts in confusion, and well Steph just high fives this Bruce, something about being broke ass homies.

Later on Alfred comes down with drinks and food, Bruce is on edge just by his mere presence. Damien watches his alternate father’s reaction.

“So, do you not have a pennyworth?”

Damien asked.

Bruce doesn’t drink anything Alfred gives him, or touches anything either which disappoints the butler greatly.

“Of course he doesn’t, he’s not rich, you snobby little brat.”

Steph states, causing Damien to glare at her. Which leaves Jason to ask his next question to Bruce.

“So what your inheritance was stolen or the Wayne’s aren’t rich?”

“My dad was a school teacher, and my mum is a social worker.”

Tim’s eyes widen

“You said your dad was but your mum… is she still alive?”

He nods.

I imagine, the justice league are working with the bats to swap the two Batman’s backs, so finding out how or why they were swapped is crucial.

And they do, a villian thought swapping their worlds Batman, with a younger inexperienced Batman, would make it easier to take over Gotham.

But it didn’t t, this Batman arrives at the scene, and mind you he’s not supposed to be out or even seen.

The villian refuses to reverse it, so this Batman takes a big ass stick, Tim’s briefly excited thinking this Batman was trained with bo-staff.

He quickly realised he was wrong when Batman shoves the stick onto the symbol on his chest creating a big ass axe.

Villian refuses again, and before anyone could react he cuts the guys arm of without hesitation. Threatening to cut the other one of.

Which impresses Jason and Wonder Woman but not really anyone else. They also note that this Batman is taller than Wonder Woman and dwarfs superman, in width and height.

Side note: maybe regular Batman, is having a field day, not only is his mother alive, but very young as well, and Alfred is trying to kill him. And his counterpart doesn’t have half the shit he has.

Oh and the jokers counter part is fucking rich.

(Might edit later, or just write a one shot for this.)

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #absolute batman #batman writing ideas #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damien wayne #dc comics idea #not edited if you can’t tell.#Drabble

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junkieito · 1 day ago

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Nobody asked but I decided to give some context, the whole country is mad bc that badly spoken, zero researched movie about a serious topic that features only one Mexican person is being awarded while having music that could have been written by a middle schooler.

In the beginning they talk about France showcasing places that are obviously not France while a spin-off voice narrates in horrible French.

The first musical number is a cumbia-like song that says "welcome to la france" featuring "the cheese I eat smells better than I do but my perfume makes up for it" (French people are know in LATAM for not exactly prioritizing bathing) plus some random french words

My favorite part is "VIVAN LOS PASTELES" (Pastel = cake) So, France occupied Mexico twice, the first time it was done under the pretext that french businessmen and artisans had suffered various forms of economic loss, one of them a baker that reportedly had been taken advantage of by general Santa Anna (I'm unsure if he was the president at the moment), who consumed cakes and never paid for them, which is why it became know as The Cake's war.

So basically we have the Sacreblus who run a baguette company and the Ratatouiles who run a croissant company, they are both rejected by their families for being trans but are promised the family's enterprise if they win a race and honor the family's heritage.

The scene with the Ratatouiles features:

(The dad does not favor Aghtugo because he is trans and 'doesn't have a penis' so he says any of his brothers would be a good option as well and he starts shading on them + aghtugo is how the franch would often pronounce the name arthur in spanish)

- But, Hugo is not over his "artist" phase and is addicted to paint thinner.

- Aee don onlee in'aile thinnegh, the zhelou pein gueevs mee 'appinezz

- Mario Hugo? Good luck having a twangy french man

. (Speaks actual french)

- It's impossible to understand you!

Amd

- It's not that we don't love you, it's just that we're ashamed of being related to you (:

Next scene Johanne is meeting her friend Emily... in Paris lol. They have an exchange and they mock the fact she's privileged and comes from a wealthy family and has no real problems but winning the race. The "french waiter" comes and then this exchange happens-

- Is that it or would you like anything else?

- That's it.

-Yes that's it... or maybe I'd also like to or-

- You said that was it. (Takes menu away) You must learn to abide by your word! (Rudely)

- Hey, what a great customer service!

- I know! The best in all of France!

We are mentioned for the second time that Johanne was sent to Mexico and she says she now does not understand some french things like the lack of kindness, animal cruelty practices and hatred of muslims. Then a sequence ensues where she just says "have you ever thought what we do is wrong?" and her friend magically agrees drowning birds in cognac is a cruel practice

- I feel so dirty now! I even want to take a shower!

- I knew I wasn't just crazy!

- I just never thought what we did was wrong somehow, I always though those minimum wage skin colored people liked how we treated them!

We learn that Johanne was sent to Mexico because she has hallucinations of Marie Antoinette which she denies saying it is the real ghost of her. Then she appears saying racist stuff about Emily.

- Don't listen to her! She has the fashion sense of a guatemalan (derogative)

Then ladybug is presenting the race and the first one is won by Johanne (they celebrate by throwing rats at her ). There is a number imitating "Soy Emilia Pereeez una mujer mexicanaaa que merece respetoooo" in black and white about "The trash man", after that we see Aghturo and Johanne are trying to solve their differences and Aghtugo ends up convincing Johanne to let him win the second part of the race so it is even and nobody wins.

- Baguette may only be bread but croissants are France itself! It's in our veins, in our wine, in the air we breathe!

Afterwards Aghtugo says to Johanne:

A: You only say that because you've been outside of France for too long, you're now but a Chimichanga* lover!

J: (Visibly offended) ?Cinco de mayo!

A: How dare you! (Slaps her)

*mexican dish

Ok this is because cinco de mayo commemorates La batalla de Puebla which was a battle we won against the french during the Second French Intervention. Sppiler alert we lost the war and they put an Habsburg as Emperor backed by Napoleon III.|

So in the end the competition is even but the french overlords say it an't be even, there must me a baguette battle-to-death.

* What is that?

* A battle where they fight each other to death... with baguettes!

* (Fake surprise)

Another scene ensues where Aghtugo magically thinks some practices are bad after Johannes says so literally.

By this point Johanne convinces Aghtugo of not fighting to death but an evil ambassador appears and hurts Aghtugo and tells them they must fight to death, it is discovered he acted like that bc he was controlled by a rat and he is defeated somehow (didn't get that part). The Johanne is being interviewed (her description reads "bored millionaire" )

This final part features the dialogue:

"Being controlled by a rat! The worst nightmare of any french-man!"

And then she says that to end the interview her mexican friends told her to gift them something specal which turns out to be a cake and the final scene shows her about to throw it into the guy's face.

Obscure reference but the thinner guy very ad hoc smells a rat at some point which is a reference to an obscure urban tale in mexico called la rata con thinner, which i don't wanna explain you don't wanna look up

Ithe filming credits reads "directed by: someone with adhd'

Et la voilà, c'est la fin.

Merci de ne jamais faire un autre truc comme ça svp

wait a bunch of ppl ( in mexico i belive) got togheter and made a mini movie where everyone is poorly pretending to be french in retaliation for the dogshit emilia perez musical this is awesome tjhey all have little mustaches drawn on with sharpie and are spealing the worst french ever

#emilia perez

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 days ago

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Start of Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, panic attack, almost fainting, fluff at the end

Summary: Hotch is the only parent you have left, so you’re a bit overprotective of him. When he comes up with a plan to stop an unsub, you’re the only one who’s not on board.

Square Filled: fainting for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: this fic is based on the song "Start of Time" by Gabrielle Aplin. I also pulled inspiration from that scene in Teen Wolf where Lydia kissed Stiles for the first time since he was having a panic attack. You all know the scene.

“You’re kidding, right?” You look at Rossi. “Is he kidding? Did I hear him right?”

“No, you heard it right,” Hotch sighs.

“No, you’re not going to do that. End of discussion. You’re not going to put your life on the line for some psychopath.”

“You have no authority over me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

You slam your hands on the table and leave the briefing room to calm yourself down. Spencer watches you leave with a frown, itching to go after you to comfort you.

“Y/N!” Hotch calls after you, but you ignore him.

“I’ll go after her,” Spencer says and leaves the briefing room.

Hotch looks at Rossi who just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. You said it was fine to have your daughter on the team.”

You’d normally not go after Hotch’s throat like that but he’s the only parent you have left since your mother died a few years ago. Anything that puts his life on the line, you immediately object to. He understands you’re looking out for him but he has a job to do. You knew this when you signed up to be in the FBI academy.

You walk into the bathroom and turn the faucet on to splash some water on your face. The thought of your dad going in to face off against a psychopath and dying makes your heart race and sweat build up on your neck. You look around the empty bathroom and squeeze your eyes shut tightly to ward off the panic attack.

The door opens and Spencer walks in without a word. He immediately pulls you into a hug that slows your racing heart. He calms you down before the panic attack can get too far, and you hug Spencer back. He rubs your back and sighs knowing all you’re ever going to see him as is a friend. He likes you a lot but you haven’t given him any indication that you like him back, so he’s kept his feelings for you a secret. The last thing he’s going to do is tell you how he feels, especially not now when all you’re worried about is your dad.

“Sorry,” you whisper and pull away from him.

“Don’t ever be sorry.”

“You have to help me, Spencer. He wants to go inside that bank alone. Make him change his mind.”

“Y/N…”

“Patrick is one of the worst unsubs we’ve ever dealt with. He kills for fun, for sport. If my dad goes in there alone, he’ll kill him. He’s my only family, Spencer. Make him change his mind.”

“I know.” Spencer sighs. “I can’t promise anything but there might be another way to get to Patrick.”

Patrick has the same tragic backstory as all the other unsubs, and he’s hellbent on making humanity suffer for what he went through. He has so much anger for humans that he’s taking out anyone and everyone. He went to rob a bank to fund his trip across the pond, and he’s taken the entire bank hostage. The only reason he hasn’t killed them all is because they might be the key to getting him out of there alive.

Your job is to get the hostages out safely before SWAT can move in on Patrick. Hotch wants to go in and negotiate with Patrick into letting the hostages go, but you can’t fathom the idea of him going in there with someone like Patrick. SWAT and local police already have the streets blocked off to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.

“Garcia, were you able to get the blueprints of the bank?” Hotch asks when the team arrives.

“Yes, and because there are the sewers below it, I also got the layout for that as well. It might be your only way into the bank.”

She lays out the blueprints on the hood of the police car and Derek traces the pipes from the bank to a manhole cover that’s a block away with his finger.

“We can get into the bank through here. Looks like there is a gate blocking the way in, so we’ll have to break it. We’ll need someone on the inside to distract him so he doesn’t hear us.”

“Alright, Morgan, take Prentiss and three officers with you through the sewers. Wait for my word.”

They leave immediately, and Spencer looks at you in worry.

“Who is going to go inside and distract?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch answers.

He and Rossi step off to the side, and you look at the bank in concern.

“It’s going to be okay,” Spencer comforts you.

“I hope so. Sometimes I wonder if it was right for me to take this job.”

“What do you mean?”

“After my mom died, my dad got overprotective of me. He kept warning me of the dangers of this world. I wanted to help people like him, and the academy seemed like the right thing to do. My dad is the Unit Chief of the BAU. That had some pull in the academy. I was looking at a job upstate as an officer, but then a spot opened on the team. I wanted to be closer to my dad so I took the job. Now, I see the horrors of this job and every opportunity to lose him. He’s the best dad I could ask for. I don’t think I could bear losing him to someone like Patrick.”

Spencer pulls you in for a hug and rubs your back.

“That won’t happen.”

You look at the bank once more and your face is twisted in horror. Your dad is walking toward the bank’s front doors… alone.

“Dad!” You push Spencer away and start to run toward him. However, arms wrap around your waist to prevent you from following him. “No, let me go! Dad! Dad, please don’t go!”

Your dad disappears inside the bank, and you break down in tears. Rossi keeps his arms around you until he knows you’re not going to run after him. You step back from Rossi as a panic attack hits you in the face. Suddenly, you can’t breathe and your heart is beating too fast for you to keep up with.

“You need to calm down, Y/N,” Spencer says.

“I… can’t… I… Da…”

Hot tears are running down your cheeks, and you start hyperventilating at the thought of your dad dying right now. You're gonna faint.

“Kid, get her to calm down,” Rossi says.

Spencer doesn’t think twice about this. He grabs you and plants his lips over yours. Your eyes widen in shock but you close them once you feel how natural it is to kiss Spencer. Your heart rate slows down, your head becomes clear, and you relax against Spencer’s body. He pulls away from you but stays close enough so that the only thing you see is him.

His honey-brown eyes are warm and comforting, and his lips are soft and swollen from the kiss. Suddenly, you hear gunshots go off inside the bank, and that breaks you out of your trance. You push Spencer away from you and book it toward the bank without a second thought. This time, no one holds you back.

The hostages are in the corner with the three officers, Patrick is lying on the ground bleeding from a gunshot wound on his shoulder, and all three BAU agents are standing above him with their guns on him. Most importantly, your dad is alive and well. You immediately run over to your dad and hug him, thankful that he survived this.

“I was always going to be fine, Y/N.”

“I thought I lost you,” you cry.

“I’m right here.”

Patrick is arrested, the hostages are saved, and no one got hurt. Now that you’re back at the BAU, you have time to think about what Spencer did to you. Spencer is at his desk finishing some paperwork when you approach him from behind.

“Hey, Spencer.”

He turns around and smiles when he sees you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good now. Thank you for…”

You can’t finish your sentence but Spencer knows what you’re saying.

“Yeah, anytime,” he nods.

“You kissed me.”

“I know. I was there.”

“There are other ways to stop a panic attack. Why did you kiss me?”

“I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so when I kissed you, you held your breath.”

“I did?” you whisper.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Was that the only reason you kissed me?”

Spencer opens his mouth to answer but decides against what he really wants to say. “Yes.”

Your face falls in disappointment but you bounce back quickly in hopes he didn’t see it.

“Oh, well, thank you.”

You pass by him to walk away when he grabs your hand. He sees the disappointment, and he takes that as his sign. He stands and pulls you closer to him, and you look into his eyes hopefully.

“That wasn’t the only reason. I like you a lot.”

You smile. “Well, I like you a lot.”

“I know this Indian place with really good food. Want to get dinner with me?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Hotch stands by his window and watches everyone work. He sees you and Spencer by his desk, and he definitely sees the smile on your face. Spencer grabs your hand and leaves with you, and Hotch smiles. Spencer is a good guy, and you’d do well with someone like him.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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gangstalkerbarbie · 1 day ago

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People have got to learn the difference between levels of headcanon, I think, all over again. It will make fandom so much more fun for everybody.

You see the thing is that the Jewish acronym PaRDeS works for all kinds of interpretive textual analysis, let me take y'all on a journey.

P is for peshat, the straightforward literal meaning of a text. "There was a red balloon on the table". The balloon was red and it was placed on the table.

R is for remez, a hint, not a hint as in an asmachta (what you would call a hint as in hee hee, think about what we just learned) but a hint as in an allusion — if a text already said something once, it might employ shorthand to say that again. Were there red balloons before? Why?

D is for Drash, interpretation - the scriptural equivalent of widely held fanon, but also the use of cultural and contextual details not stated by the text to make inferences about the text. When there were 99 red balloons in hit song 99 Red Balloons, what did that mean at that time, and does that mean the same thing now, with the balloons on the table? Did your mother put it there to teach you war is bad, or did she mean to leave you a red balloon to play with?

S is for Sod, esoteric or divine insight, or in fandom terms, random shit external to the media like tweets by the creator and secret material found only in the media Discord. This part of the process entails going back through the text and combing it for any random evidence that might make your point: maybe your mother left the red balloon on the table to teach you that war is bad. (Did she? You can only know if you ask, and if there's no answer you probably can't argue factually about it with your siblings, but if that's what taught you that war is bad, yasher koach!) Maybe your mother believes war is bad because in her childhood she was a Young Pioneer, and that's why the balloon is red. Maybe the balloon is red for blood, and she grew up without a father because of a war.

Why do you think that? Why or why not? Should you nudge her old traumas and ask her, and if not, should you proceed as if this is the case?

Applying this to a common Homestuck headcanon, let's say "Dave Strider is Jewish".

P – does he ever say so? (No, thus making this not explicitly canon on the first level, but he makes some evocative references and has only one place where he could have internalised these concepts and traditions from).

R – is there any evidence? (Yes, if I recall correctly there is a menorah in his house in one panel of this comic, and he occasionally talks about some evocative things, and there are some scenes in the epilogues if you regard them as canon but I consider them apocrypha of a kind so linsey-woolsey.)

D — there is a tradition that he is Jewish. If I cared to continue this bit I would go look up who originated it and what her reasoning was. It would also narratively kinda fuck if he was Jewish. You could talk to people who believe this based on elements of this text. The elements are there.

S — why would Huss do that? Because Gnostic webcomic, insert Gnosticism rant here, you get the idea. Do you want this in your fanon? Why or why not?

Taken together: this is widely held fanon with plausible textual roots, and can be safely discussed as such. It is your choice whether you subscribe, but as it is an established tradition, you should probably live and let live regarding it.

Taking another example, completely hypothetical: Thomas the Tank Engine is a trans woman.

P — fuck no? Thomas the Tank Engine is a train.

R — but he is gendered, and gender is an axis of oppression in real life. It is repeatedly shown that Sodor is a profoundly oppressive society, so it's not that odd that someone could project additional non-train related oppression on the trains, if they're already fucking weird enough to think this deeply about Thomas the Tank Engine.

D — there is... sigh... you know what, I'm not looking to see if there is a tradition and what its basis is. I would rather make soup out of toilet tank water. It is bad to assume, but I'm going to pull an overconfident rabbi with no travel opportunities and say there is not a tradition that Thomas the Tank Engine is a trans woman. There is also no textual basis within the original picture book "Thomas the Tank Engine" for such a tradition.

S — on the other hand, the Thomas The Tank Engine / My Neck My Back mashup. While not grounded in tradition it is commonly seen and memed (equivalent to a religious thing being commonly believed, such as the entire metaphysical system of Hasidism, which everyone who's not a hasid is broadly of the opinion probably evolved partly from local spirituality by itself, in the absence of any connection to the rest of development of Jewish thought), and if I asked the creator I'm sure she would say it came to her in a vision.

In conclusion, there is absolutely no evidence for this, but you could believe it for the sake of your addiction to the bit if you wanted to, as long as you did not try to pretend that any evidence existed outside the realm of mystic revelation, and try to fight people who don't agree about it.

People are not being transphobic by pointing out that there is absolutely no evidence for the Thomas the Tank Engine trans headcanon that you are still allowed to cherish, it's just that you received it from the akashic plane of pure knowledge in a bolt of lightning and not a soul else on this planet ever has. It is pure personal headcanon and will not be elevated to the level of fanon unless enough people in the fandom begin to believe it, which they probably won't but you never know.

You should probably not expect people to have your reaction to it, because it is mystically inspired and people who do not live in your material conditions could not necessarily arrive at it. If you are on the other end and you meet someone with this kind of headcanon, though, don't provoke them about it, what's it to you? They live in a world where it's true, and you can't afford a ticket there.

kinda really sick n tired of people making any and everyone in fandoms trans or kinda trans. like what's wrong with being a gnc woman? why is a woman who doesn't shave suddenly trans/an egg? obviously I don't own the character and neither do they but it's disheartening to see every slight deviation of 'being stereotypically female TM' as being trans or whatever. transmasc this, transfem that - please.

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wizzard890 · 13 hours ago

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The fact is that David Lynch treats the subject of evil better than just about anybody else making movies today—better and also differently. His movies aren’t anti-moral, but they are definitely anti-formulaic. Evil-ridden though his filmic world is, please notice that responsibility for evil never in his films devolves easily onto greedy corporations or corrupt politicians or faceless serial kooks. Lynch is not interested in the devolution of responsibility, and he’s not interested in moral judgments of characters. Rather, he’s interested in the psychic spaces in which people are capable of evil. He is interested in Darkness. And Darkness, in David Lynch’s movies, always wears more than one face. Recall, for example, how Blue Velvet’s Frank Booth is both Frank Booth and “the Well-Dressed Man.” How Eraserhead's whole postapocalyptic world of demonic conceptions and teratoid offspring and summary decapitations is evil… yet how it’s “poor” Henry Spencer who ends up a baby-killer. How in both TV’s Twin Peaks and cinema’s Fire Walk with Me, “Bob” is also Leland Palmer, how they are, “spiritually,” both two and one. The Elephant Man’s sideshow barker is evil in his exploitation of Merrick, but so too is good old kindly Dr. Treeves—and Lynch very carefully has Treeves admit this aloud. And if Wild at Heart’s coherence suffered because its myriad villains seemed fuzzy and interchangeable, it was because they were all basically the same thing, i.e. they were all in the service of the same force or spirit. Characters are not themselves evil in Lynch movies—evil wears them. This point is worth emphasizing. Lynch’s movies are not about monsters (i.e. people whose intrinsic natures are evil) but about hauntings, about evil as environment, possibility, force. This helps explain Lynch’s constant deployment of noirish lighting and eerie sound-carpets and grotesque figurants: in his movies’ world, a kind of ambient spiritual antimatter hangs just overhead. It also explains why Lynch’s villains seem not merely wicked or sick but ecstatic, transported: they are, literally, possessed. Think here of Dennis Hopper’s exultant “I’LL FUCK ANYTHING THAT MOVES” in Blue Velvet, or of the incredible scene in Wild at Heart when Diane Ladd smears her face with lipstick until it’s devil-red and then screams at herself in the mirror, or of Bob’s look of total demonic ebullience in Fire Walk with Me when Laura discovers him at her dresser going through her diary and just about dies of fright. The bad guys in Lynch movies are always exultant, orgasmic, most fully present at their evilest moments, and this in turn is because they are not only actuated by evil but literally inspired: they have yielded themselves up to a Darkness way bigger than any one person. And if these villains are, at their worst moments, riveting for both the camera and the audience, it’s not because Lynch is “endorsing” or “romanticizing” evil but because he’s diagnosing it—diagnosing it without the comfortable carapace of disapproval and with an open acknowledgment of the fact that one reason why evil is so powerful is that it’s hideously vital and robust and usually impossible to look away from.

-David Foster Wallace, "The Theme of Evil in the Films of David Lynch"

#lynch's “evil as haunting” as opposed to “evil as intrinsic to individuals” was so profoundly unique to his work #and it's part of his empathy I think - even for his most terrifying and terrible characters #there is exaltation and relief in just letting the darkness sweep in and overwhelm you #real joy in being its puppet #there is a hideous vibrancy and vitality in lynch's conception of evil #that's kept it crawling under my skin for decades #it feels something like the truth of the world #things to come

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 days ago

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“Leptirica” (1973) inspiration in “Nosferatu” (2024)

Those who insist in victimizing Ellen Hutter or interpreting her as a “victimized character” in “Nosferatu” (2024) don’t know this story was also inspired by the Serbian horror cult classic “Leptirica” (“The She-Butterfly”) (1973).

Who is “Nosferatu” in this adaptation? Orlok or Ellen?

I can’t talk about this without spoilers; “Leptirica” is a film about Serbian villagers at risk of starvation (death) because a vampire keeps killing the guy who takes cares of their windmill (and they can’t grind their cereal to make bread = they will starve to death). The villagers suspect it’s a legendary vampire from Serbian folklore, but, at the end, it’s revealed this vampire is, in fact, the naive and innocent girl who’s the love interest of the lead male character and gets compared to a “she-butterfly” at the beginning of the film.

Like Radojka, Ellen gets compared to a “sylph” (Alchemist air spirit), “fairy” (“her fairy ways”) and her father called his “changeling girl” (European folklore of children kidnapped by fairies or demons and a substitute fairy or demon child is left in its place).

It’s Ellen who raises Orlok from the dead and curses him to become a strigoi (he was dead for centuries until she unleashed him to the world). He’s a monster of her own creation. Yes, she sought “comfort” and “tenderness” and symbolic sexual awakening; but she was also angry at her father because, like she says to Von Franz during their first scene together, he wouldn’t allow her to hang out in the forest anymore and her free nature displeased him. It’s not only her yearning for company or sexuality that awoke Orlok, it was also her anger. Teenage angst is a beast.

In the first scene at the Hardings house, just before the children go to bed, they cry out “There’s a monster in the room!”; “Papa! Papa! Don’t let her feed me to the monster! Stab him!”; “I can hear him breathe under my bed!” Eggers used two children as “foreshadowing devices” in “The VVitch” (2015), too. At this point in the story, Orlok has not yet had access to Ellen, again, so who is this monster in the room Clara and Louise are talking about? The only characters in the room are Anna, Ellen, Thomas and Friedrich. And they say “don’t let her feed us to the monster”, this “her” isn’t Anna, obviously; it’s Ellen.

Ellen is the one who gives or denies Orlok access to places, including to herself.

He gets access to her again because of the locket, not because of the “covenant papers” Thomas signs. A locket that was meant for Orlok since the beginning: it smells of lilacs, and she cuts a strand of her hair in front of windows (symbolic for her connection to Orlok). This is also a reference to “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Brontë (another main inspiration for “Nosferatu”); Heathcliff goes to the chapel to see Catherine’s coffin and puts a strand of his hair inside of her necklace-locket, for her ghost to haunt him. She wants Orlok to haunt her, again.

Before Orlok arrives at Wisburg, Eggers show us Ellen at the shore, communicating with him. This is her granting him entrance into the city, by sea. Where he will “spread plague” and “death” on the society that ostracizes her because of her nature:

Later she also grants Orlok entrance into the Harding household, by opening the window for him. She knows exactly what she is doing, because she resents Friedrich Harding for tying her up to the bed and bring Dr. Sievers to drug and restrain her, and Anna Harding also dismisses her because she doesn’t believe such a demon exists, let’s forget all about that because Christmas (religion) is more important.

Result: they all got killed by Orlok, and not by coincidence. The Hardings die because Ellen wants them dead, like Clara and Louise foreshadowed. She’s the one who feeds them to the monster, and Friedrich is powerless to stop it.

Orlok having to be invited in is also confirmed by Dr. Sievers, when he, Thomas and Von Franz are waiting for Friedrich Harding to go on their vampire hunt quest. Dr. Sievers suggests they should go to their own houses because Orlok has probably raised from his sarcophagus. Why? Because Orlok can’t enter nor go places without getting invited in (which is a staple of vampire lore), and so they are safe from him if they remain indoors. Von Franz isn’t worried because he knows Orlok will be with Ellen, but this tells us something else: Von Franz also knows Orlok has to be invited in (he was the one who told Sievers this, for sure).

Orlok can only attack those who are in the streets at night. Which connects with Victorian society gender roles of domestic sphere (women) vs. public/social life (men). Eggers also shows us this at the beginning of the film; Thomas and Friedrich are in one room, smoking and drinking (social life), while Ellen and Anna are in another room with the children (domestic life). “Decent” Victorian women can’t go to public places without a chaperone; which is what Friedrich also tells Ellen when she says she’ll go to the office to talk to Herr Knock. Ellen also says she never liked that man (and Orlok targeted him. Coincidence?).

Ellen opens the window of the apartment for him to enter because he didn’t had access to it, he had to be invited in.

This tells us something else: Orlok can’t really kill Thomas himself unless someone invites him into his house, or Thomas randomly happens to be in the streets at night. Unless, Orlok was planning on using Knock for that plan, I don’t know, but this guy was pretty upset with Orlok because he broke their covenant, and he even tells Thomas, Von Franz and Dr. Sievers about Orlok wanting Ellen for his bride (which could ruin his plan). So I’m calling bluff on this one, and even Ellen saying “He’ll kill you if I don’t go to him” now sounds like a lame excuse from her part, with all of this considered. She knows Orlok can’t kill Thomas if he stays inside the house and doesn’t get invited in.

Von Franz is the one who puts “two and two” together because he knows Nosferatu won’t stop until he’s destroyed. He finds the Şolomonari codex of secrets in Herr Knock’s office: a book which, obviously, belongs to Orlok (confirmed Şolomonar by the narrative) and where there are instructions in how a Şolomonar can break free from his Nosferatu curse; which involves a young woman in love with him and her voluntary sacrifice (death). He already figured out the connection between Ellen and Orlok, and he also knows she was the one who summoned him (which was something he was trying to find out since he first examined Ellen and determined she was being haunted by a demon).

The dialogue between Ellen and Von Franz after this scene, during Anna and the children funeral, is very cryptic, as he says: “More will be taken” and she replies: “I know. She was with child.” At first, Von Franz saying this seems like a broader statement, but he just found out Ellen is the one who unleashed Orlok, and she also needs to die for Nosferatu to stop. He also calls her “creature”. And he knows Anna and the children were attacked and killed inside of their home; someone invited Orlok in, and he knows that someone was Ellen. Von Franz actions after this all have the same purpose: Ellen needs to die, and he’ll do and say anything to convince her.

On rewatch, I would even advise my readers to look at Ellen’s reaction during this entire scene, it’s really something.

When they first met, Ellen asks Von Franz: “does evil comes from within us or from beyond?”

He gives her the answer during their final interaction, because he knows who and what Ellen truly is: “We must know evil to be able to destroy it, we must discover it within ourselves. And when we have, we must crucify the evil within us, or there is no salvation.”

To which Ellen answers: “I need no salvation. My entire life I have done no ill but heed my nature.”Which echoes with her scene with Orlok, when he talks about her nature, and she accuses him of being a “villain”, to which he says: “I am an appetite, more nothing more.”

During this scene we see Ellen mask starting to fall: at first she denies her spirit is evil like Orlok’s, but then she basically says she doesn’t need to destroy the evil within her because she has always been true to her own nature. Strange thing to say from a character who kept denying her true self… unless everything that has happened in this story has been according to her own will. Which explains why Lily-Rose Depp said Ellen is the one “calling the shots” here: “I don’t think she’s a victim at all, because she’s kind of calling the shots the entire time.”

This entire story is about Ellen accepting her true nature, after all (“succumb to the darkness”). That’s what Orlok wants (besides the all “break the curse you put on me” plot), and what Von Franz tells her to do, too.

Is Ellen “evil”? It depends how we look at it. According to Victorian Christian society? Yes. Absolutely. She’s as evil as Orlok. And he’s death. Is death evil? Are plagues evil? Is nature evil? In Romanian folklore, where God and the Devil are seen as twin brothers, the notion of “evil” is more complex, too. And this why she finally accepts Orlok covenant of being “one with [him] ever-eternally”, and he confirms to the audience: “our spirits are one”, before consummating what Eggers calls a “wicked sacred marriage” between them.

In “Leptirica”, the “villagers” blame the legendary folklore vampire (Orlok) for their misfortune, when, in fact, it’s Radojka/Ellen who’s behind everything. Every time Orlok attacks a character, Eggers show us “vampire Ellen”, too. This isn’t random, either. She appears innocent and naïve to others, to the point everyone keeps calling her a “child” (even though she’s a grown married woman), but she’s, actually, a very dark character.

At the end, Nosferatu is defeated because both Ellen and Orlok physically die… but who is Nosferatu, truly?

#Nosferatu 2024 #Robert Eggers #Ellen Hutter 2024 #count Orlok 2024 #Thomas Hutter 2024 #Friedrich Harding #Anna Harding #Clara harding #Louise Harding #professor Von Franz #Dr Sievers #Leptirica #Leptirica 1973 #the she butterfly 1973

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cloudinthesky444 · 1 day ago

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At this point, it’s clear that Sauron is in love with Galadriel, and he knows it’s not one-sided. In the show, the feelings and interactions between the protagonists (specifically Sauron and Galadriel) are portrayed metaphorically, and it’s obvious that the directors do this on purpose to avoid angering the lorebros who seem to get upset at the idea of shipping Sauron and Galadriel and call the show an insult to Tolkien 😱😱

But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. When you watch the show and see the interactions between Sauron and Galadriel, you find yourself wondering, in the midst of all this chaos, why it seems to work so well and yet always ends up falling apart. If it’s not Sauron who ruins it, then it’s Galadriel. You know what I mean? The answer is that they attract and repel each other, and if there weren’t so many feelings and suppressed anger involved—stemming not just from past events in their lives (like Galadriel’s grief over her brother’s death or Adar’s betrayal of Sauron, which we know truly hurt him)—these past emotions mixed with their current ones create a brutal phenomenon of confusion. On one hand, Sauron doesn’t understand why Galadriel constantly rejects him. He says things like, “I see you; I know what you desire,” because he does know—but he doesn’t get why, despite their similarities, Galadriel keeps pushing him away. In the show, this is framed as a logical decision, with Galadriel rejecting him because Sauron sees her as a mere tool. And yes, in part, that’s true, but it’s also not the whole story. For me, the Sauron in the show and his desire to “use” Galadriel comes from the same trust and companionship I explained in a previous post. Sauron’s thought process about Galadriel is: “Nothing is free. You used me to achieve your redemption, so why can’t I use you now?” This extremist mindset, combined with his attachment and devotion to Galadriel, ends up manifesting in a VERY toxic way. And yes, maybe Sauron manipulates Galadriel and always feels the need to do so, but unlike his other victims, he shows a “human” side with her. Most of the times he acts passive or even affectionate in Season 2, it’s because he wants something. He can’t help but associate his surroundings with Galadriel and with people in general—he doesn’t like being touched, and when he does it voluntarily, you can tell how fake it is and that he’s only doing it because it’s the most convenient moment. This behavior, in my interpretation, breaks with Galadriel. With her, he lets his guard down, which we see in the fight scene where Galadriel attacks him, and he looks genuinely surprised (I even made a meme of that scene, LOL).

Then he tells her, “My desire is not to harm you,” and he’s right—he doesn’t want to hurt Galadriel. He dodges her blows for a long time, and that’s not like him. He’s usually ruthless and enjoys killing his victims when they least expect it 💩🙏🏼

Anyway, he dodged Galadriel’s strikes and turned a deaf ear until she brought up a topic she should’ve never touched: Sauron’s feelings. And well, that wasn’t a good idea, because her rejection drove the man back into satanism 💀

In the end, something they both share is self-deception. This self-deception is very persistent in Sauron and opportunistically manifests in Galadriel. But unlike him, she eventually accepts the consequences of her decisions, while Sauron doesn’t care at all.This same self-deception is what’s leading young Galadriel to ruin. Her inability to acknowledge the feelings and desires she once had for Halbrand surfaced when she realized he was Sauron, mixing with past emotions and events (her brother’s death and her hatred for Sauron). These two things combined altered Galadriel’s mental state, leaving her just as affected as Sauron and, as a result, expressing her hatred by trying to impale him with a sword. The reason for this? She no longer saw Halbrand in him. To her, he was now a completely different person in both body and soul. That’s why she doesn’t hesitate to attack him.

This shocks Sauron because he believes she still sees him the same way, but she doesn’t. He’s like, “Why did you do that, bestie? It’s me!!” This stops briefly when she sees an image of Halbrand. She immediately calms down, lowers her sword, and becomes passive—but then realizes the truth and attacks him again.

And well, you know, it’s sad.

The two are so similar, but they can’t understand each other when they face off. It’s terrible when two people deceive themselves—it always ends in destruction. Maybe in another reality, things could have been different, but I doubt it. They met at difficult times in their lives, which later manifested in pain and suffering, causing them frustration and confusion. But I believe this is simply part of destiny, and everything happens for a reason. This whole confrontation only serves to forge the Sauron and Galadriel we see in the future. By the time this is over, I’ll be devastated.

#galadriel #saurondriel #haladriel #rings of power #rop #halbrand #sauron #the rings of power #trop #trop season 2 #trop season 1

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httpknjoon · 2 days ago

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the art of bargaining | ksj

plot | jin knows that he should not be jealous when one of his best friends in the industry is filming an intimate scene with another actor.

word count | 1750

genres | fluff, actors!au

pairing | actor!jin x actress!reader

note | live laugh love the a listers

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

He shouldn’t be feeling this way. It’s unprofessional.

“Okay, folks. Stop goofing around.”

Lena, the production’s intimacy coordinator, spoke softly as you and Seb stopped laughing at something Jin badly wanted to know. You two were already in your characters’ clothes. Considering that the scene is right after your characters’ date night, you are in a silky, slip-dress, while Sebastian is in an all-black button-down and slacks outfit.

But why does he feel like this? He should not even be here. He was asked to show up at four in the afternoon but came at nine in the morning because he knew you had been shooting your scenes. When asked by other staff members why he arrived too early, he claimed he just wanted to watch others’ scenes, which is not unusual since you also do that sometimes.

Jin remembered arriving earlier, just when you and Seb were rehearsing for this physical scene. Your knees are on each side of your co-star’s lap and you are sitting on him, arms around his neck, while the director– along with the intimacy director– talked about the camera and blocking. You two were intently listening, nodding at her directions, to make sure no boundaries will be crossed. Jin stood behind the light, jaw clenching when he spotted Seb’s hand resting on the small of your back.

“Okay, let’s start off with soft kisses and giggles. Then, it builds up...”

Filming these kinds of scenes is the least exciting one to film. Every actor and director knows it, even Jin. It can be awkward with so many people around you while acting in a supposedly intimate scene. That’s why trust between actors is important and Jin can see that you are comfortable with Seb. You once told Jin that you find it better to shoot intimate and kissing scenes with female directors since they don’t oversexualize everything and you feel more secure.

“Is it okay to hold you here?” your on-screen partner asked, pertaining to where his hands would land on your body.

Personally, Seokjin will not advise the other actor to touch your upper thighs, lower back, or upper stomach, and maybe kiss your neck too. But who is he to decide? Because you softly smiled, nodding to Sebastian,

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

“YN, honey, just give Seb a tap or pinch if you feel uncomfortable. Okay?” Lena instructed before turning to Seb. “Seb, be alert with YN’s signals. Just do the things we agreed on earlier.”

As per your director’s order, every unnecessary staff member was asked to leave the set to lessen the live spectators of the intimate scene. There are only less than ten people left in the studio, including him.

“Are you not going?” Haley, who stayed on set per your request, whispered to Jin as he was standing next to her.

“Why?” Jin asked while his eyes remained focused on you.

“I don’t know… I just think you would not enjoy YN being that close to another man.” your manager replied with her tone being something on the scale of teasing to unsure. Jin turned his head to her. She smirked, “Oh, stop with the daggers, Kim Seokjin.”

His hardened expression, which he didn't even realize he was doing, softened. He looked away, trying to exhale the heaviness he had been feeling in his chest. Hailey watched him 'release his stress' with a quick breathing exercise. She knows something you don't about Jin, but she won't tell anyone about it.

Jin worries that he looks like a tomato right now. He hopes— prays— it is not obvious on his face as it feels. It's embarrassing, the warm flush on his face won't go away. Because he can still feel it from watching your scene earlier with Sebastian.

It's stupid. It's stupid because he never feels this way. He is not the jealous type— he used to be so proud that he was never the jealous type! His ex-girlfriend once joked about how she wished he had a little bit of jealous bone in him, so they could have something immature to argue about. But she was happy he was always mature... and cool-headed.

Well, there's nothing cool with what Jin is feeling right now. There is a tight and heavy feeling in his chest and it's suffocating him. He doesn't know when it started. Oh, wait. Maybe he does. Maybe when he watched Sebastian kiss you so passionately— Wait, it wasn't just that kiss. It was when he trailed his lips from your lips to your chest then down to your exposed collarbone.

He wanted to look at something else. Well, he did. He looked down at his white shoes, on the blazer that was thrown on the ground of the set, and maybe at the director too, waiting for her to cut the whole thing and say that maybe the scene was not fitting for the movie, they should remove it in the script. But she didn't. Jin looked at everything else, but he always came back looking at you.

You, who's in character, were making little sounds of relief and pleasure. It's scripted, he knows. But he felt like it was too loud for his hearing. It's so loud that he feels like the soft sounds you're making are ringing his ears. Then, your hands. He watched them smoothly unbutton your co-actor's shirt and his throat officially ran dry, making him gulp countless times. My God, he can only hope no one noticed.

Did Hailey notice? She was standing next to him. Hopefully, she didn't. He was gulping too many times. Fidgeting too many times. Fuck.

But you are an actor and that's what you do. You act professionally. It's only work for you. And also, for Sebastian. And he's an actor himself too. He should understand. But what he cannot understand is why was he feeling like this to who's supposedly his friend. The image of your last scene is not burned in his brain, he thinks.

Jin let out a heavy sigh, running a hand in his unstyled hair. Maybe he should go outside. Maybe to a bar. Order something strong that will obviously wash the scene out of his brain and will slap some senses into him. But he hates day drinking. And it's dumb to do that today just because of this. He should just distract himself.

"Oh, god. You almost killed me!”

Jin was so deep in his thoughts, that he didn't where his feet led him after your scene. He doesn't how and why, but he ended up opening the door to your trailer, which was right next to his. His eyes widened as you seemed to be in the middle of changing. You still have the same dress on but your hands are reaching for the lock of your necklace.

“I-I’m sorry– I didn't mean to– I should just–” Jin stuttered, about to turn around and leave when you stopped him.

“No, no, no. I actually need help and Haley is out, buying something. I need someone to unclasp this stupid thing." you told him.

You turned your back to him, gathering your hair up and away from your neck. Jin licked his lips, hesitating for a second before taking a step closer to you.

He gulped once again when his eyes fell on the exposed nape of your neck. Smooth and delicate. His hands felt too clumsy when he reached out to your thin, gold necklace. He tried to stabilize his breathing, hoping you didn't head the tiny hitch in his breath when his fingertips slightly touch your skin like a ghost.

Almost instantly, your chest heaved when you felt his light touch brushing on your skin. You bit your lower lip, not wanting to react obviously. But he felt warm and you think you shivered the moment his fingers brushed on the back of your neck.

"Almost... there."

Fuck. His voice was deeper than usual when he murmured, focusing on the lock. He probably didn't mean it to sound like that, but it still made you feel something in your stomach. You felt like the world is spinning, not aware that you were making him dizzy as well.

"Got it."

Finally, he unlocked the clasp, sliding off the jewelry on your neck. He took a step back before handing you the necklace.

You turned around and almost instantly, you noticed his ears. Red as a tomato. You cannot help but smile as you whisper a soft,

"Thank you."

You're a goddess. He thought, looking at you a little more up close than earlier when you were doing your scene. He wanted to tuck that loose hair behind your ear, but he didn't want to make things more awkward.

“No problem,” he replied, forcing a smile on his lips.

Suddenly, the temperature in the trailer is rising and both of you can feel it in your skin. There is some tension in the air, it feels heavy on your chest and tightens your stomachs. But some things are maybe better left unsaid. So Jin nodded his head and was about to turn around when you held his arm and tiptoed, planting a peck on his cheek before whispering something that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Can you stay a little longer?"

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @lojocas @txtlyn @yoontaethings @zwiehe

PERMANENT TAGLIST (closed)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

#actor!jin #bts jin #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts crack #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #bts drabble #the a listers ksj

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thelargefrye · 2 days ago

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BECAUSE I'M HIM ... mature one - shot (21+) | PART II

pairing : supe!ateez x supe!villain!f!reader ( ft. supe!villain!sanhwa x supe!villain!f!reader )

genre : dark, mature, heroes and villains, demon slayer x mha inspired, angst

word count : 17k

warnings : language, a lot... a LOT of fight scenes 😮‍💨, death / murder, blood / body gore, suicide, choking, attempted murder, the government wouldn't do that to you - oh yes they would, mass killing (a whole island gets wiped out – not in detail and only mentioned), MAJOR character deaths, cannibalism (kind of), mention human sacrifice, any korean that appears might be inaccurate

smut warnings : unprotected sex, threesome, mxm, noncon voyuerism, double v penetration, slight cum play

listen to the official soundtrack here

note : for topaz's @sanjoongie YOTV collab – had so much fun planning this and writing it, thank you for allowing me to be apart of this collab and i hope you enjoy it! please make sure to check out the other fics for this collab with the masterlist!

also thank you to @anyamaris for letting me word vomit this to you!

with the hero association struggling to take down the villain alliance, they and the government force death row villains to team up with some of the world's greatest heroes in order to hunt down and defeat them. you are one of those villains.

READ PART I HERE

ACT IV: THE DRAGON GOD

new ateez compound – members’ private rooms corridor – night

yunho walked through the corridors of the new compound. his footsteps soft against the polished floor. the air was heavy, thick with the tension of their recent losses and the faint, fragile peace that had come in the aftermath. if he could even call it an aftermath, everything happening all at once made yunho feel like this was just the catalyst for something bigger to come.

this new compound gave off that same feeling, it was nearly identical to the one they’d lost, yet it felt foreign – a remainder of everything that had been torn away. from him, the team. the memories of their original compound were the only thing that kept him grounded. it was his home after all, and now… he was expected to call this new compound home. it made yunho feel uneasy.

as he approached the row of private quarters, something stopped him in his tracks. a voice. hushed, soft, and unmistakably familiar.

you.

his heart stuttered in his chest as he turned towards your door, which was slightly ajar. light spilled into the hallway, warm and flickering, and yunho could just faintly hear the hum of a conversation – no, it wasn’t a conversation. your voice sounded different, breathy and tinged with something he couldn’t place at first.

they say curiosity killed the cat, and perhaps it was that, or something deep, the pulled yunho towards your door. he should stop. whatever was happening inside your room wasn’t his business, yet his feet betrayed him. carefully, he leaned closer, peering through the crack in the door.

the sight he saw made his breath stop and heat travel all over his body.

you bent over the edge of your bed, naked, with san on top of you. his hips creating powerful thrusts as he pounds away into your pussy. yunho can see how san’s cock easily stretches your pussy, filling you up and causing you to let out breathy wines. san’s thick hands dig into the meat of your hips, holding you up as the vigor sounds of skin meeting skin fills the room.

yunho couldn’t tear his eyes away, from the sight of you and san. san’s balls smacking lewdly against your ass had san tossing his head back slightly, never once stopping his unrelenting pace.

“s-sannie–” your nails claw at the messy sheets, yunho’s surprised you don’t rip them from the vice grip you have on them. you let out a ramble of words that don’t make any sense and san can only laugh at how fucked out you are.

“she’s so fucked out, her pussy might as well be talking,” a new voice says, but yunho recognizes the deepness of it. seonghwa appears right next to san, just as naked. one of his graceful, yet lethal hands run down the expanse of san’s back.

“s–so fuckin’ tight,” san pants out as he bends over to press his chest against back. his thick arms wrap underneath your legs and yunho can hear a wet smack! smack! smack! sound throughout the room, followed by a cry leaving your lips.

you’re making a mess, juices drooling from your pussy, around san’s cock, and onto the bed and floor. san has completely mounted you at this point and yunho would be surprised if san didn’t break the bed from how hard he was going. one of his hands pressing your face into the mattress as san turned to look at seonghwa. his face just as fucked out as you sounded as he reaches out for the older male.

“hy–h–hyung~” san calls out, causing seonghwa to laugh as he walks closer. stepping up on the bed, san’s eyes lit up as seonghwa’s cock was at eye-level with him. his mouth dropping open without seonghwa having to say a word.

“you’re just as fucked out as her,” seonghwa teases, the head of his fat cock tracing the lip of san’s lips. his tongue swirled around seonghwa’s tip, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his cock was shoved into his mouth. san let out a gagged groan of some sorts as seonghwa fucked his throat. yunho was surprised that san never once stop fucking you.

“s–so good,” seonghwa moaned out, eyes closing and eyebrows drawn together as his head tilted back. seonghwa pulled out of san’s mouth with a sick, wet pop! seonghwa fisted his cock a few times so san’s tongue was covered in his precum. “go ahead, share.”

san tangled his fingers within your hair, dragging you up like you were nothing. yunho couldn’t see your face, nor what san was doing, but he assumed the blood user was kissing you. the image of the two of you doing a nasty french kiss while swapping spit and precum made his own dick hard.

yunho felt a wave of heat and coldness wash over his body as his hand trailed down to where his own cock was. an obvious tent growing and he was trying to resist the urge to touch himself, here in the middle of the hallway. his eyes remained glued to how san pulled out of you and manhandled you onto further on the bed.

seonghwa kneels on the bed as both him and yunho watch san tug you into full nelson. your body on full display, pussy leaking and creamy as san wastes no time in shoving his cock back into you. the two of you moaning and yunho swears he can see the bulge of san’s cock appear underneath your belly button. fuck, that’s hot. yunho feels his dick twitch at the sight of seonghwa running the tip of his cock along your stuffed pussy. the mixture of your and san’s sticky seed and juices easily coating his cock.

his head teases your clit that’s red and swollen and yunho figures san smacked it earlier. you let out a cry, fat tears running down your cheeks as you try to close your legs. but san’s arms and legs keep your pried open for both his and seonghwa’s pleasure.

“‘s too much!” you cry, but both males laugh at your words. san pulls out slightly open to immediately thrust back into you. his hold on you, keeping you place, breasts bouncing at impact. san repeats the action a few more times as seonghwa lazily nudges his cock against your clit.

“you can take both of us, can’t you, doll?” san questions, pulling out slightly as seonghwa began to slowly enter you.

“please–” you beg, head thrown back, panting and a layer of sweat beginning to cover you. seonghwa reaches between the two of you, the head of his cock slowly nedging itself into your dripping pussy. your glossy juices coating his fingers “p–please, too–too–”

“if you can take san’s fat cock all at once then you can take mine with it,” seonghwa cuts you off, his hands gripping your thighs, nails digging into your thighs leaving crescent shapes in your skin as he inches his cock further inside of you.

then, with a rough grunt, seonghwa eventually shoves himself further into you. both his and san’s cocks pressed against each other surrounded by your gummy walls that clench around the both of them. moans leaving both males as san starts thrusting up into you. his cock rubbing against seonghwa’s cock, which makes the older male groan in pleasure.

“t–two cocks an–and you’re still this tight,” he pants out as he also starts moving his hips, him and san establishing a nice rhythm that is the opposite of when san was just inside you.

you’re rendered to just a moan, babbling mess as your lovers continue to fuck you. your orgasm building up more and more. the head of their cocks take turns abusing your g-spot and filling you up even more with their hot precum. san’s sturdy hands come to grope your breast, squeezing them, along with pinching and pulling at your nipples causing you to let out a cry. your cry is quickly swallowed by seonghwa’s tongue shoving itself into your mouth.

“fuck– fuckfuckfuck ‘s good,” san moans as he watches you and seonghwa. his thrusts causing his balls to smack against seonghwa’s as he feels himself grow closer to his own orgasm the more you clench around him as he continues to ram into your melty insides. he can’t deny how good seonghwa’s cock feels up against his, he loves when seonghwa or himself force their cock inside of you while the other one is already taking up so much space.

stuffing you even more than what you claim to take makes him just want to never stop fucking you. and the thought alone is what makes him finally cum. he lets out a string of cussing as his cock paints your insides white. his seed immediately starts dripping out of you and onto the sheets below you all. san pulls out, even more of his seed dripping out, but seonghwa wastes no time in fucking it back into you.

san holds you in the position he’s had you in as seonghwa drills into you with the full purpose of both him and you coming next. you cry out seonghwa’s name the harder he fucks you.

“gonna fill you u–up with s-so-so much. stuff my pretty girl with a–all the cum,” seonghwa murmurs in a fucked daze. with one finally thrust you both are coming. seonghwa stills inside of you as he also paints your insides white.

seonghwa pulls out, eyes locked on how your pussy overflows with the mixture of his and san’s cum. you let out a whine when seonghwa runs a finger through your creamy folds just as san finally releases you from the position he had you in. you watch seonghwa bring his cum-coated fingers to his lips to lick them clean. san presses a kiss to your shoulder as he moves to sit you both up.

yunho feels his chest tightened, eyes focused as he watches you three. he knew he should leave, he already stayed and watched more than he should have. enjoyed more than he should have.

what kind of teammate was he to intrude on such a private moment, but damn did it not turn him on watching the three of you. yunho feels a rush of emotions – guilt and jealousy being the main two that he felt. he took one last look inside your room; you, san, and seonghwa sharing light kisses between each other, before he’s turning on his heels and walking down the corridor.

once yunho is in the safety of his room, he closes his door and finally lets out the breath he had been holding the entire time. every time he blinks, all he can see is the image of san or seonghwa pounding into you. the noises you made echoing in his mind and his hand absentmindedly finds his crotch. he winces when he feels a wet patch on his pants. fuck. when did he come in his pants?

he feels heat rush to his face as once again thinks about the three of you. his own cock taking no time in getting hard again.

his ears burn as he lets out a huff, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. his other hand comes up to rest against his face, “you’re better than this,” he mumbles to himself.

yet he can’t help but touch himself, coming all over his hand at the thought of san, seonghwa, and you.

jeju island – forest path – day

jeju island was a lot denser than you expected it to be. you’ve heard about how this island usually kept to themselves, isolated themselves from the mainland. so officially, they wouldn’t make it easy to get to their village. a boat dropping the two of you off on the island made the dense and thick forest the first thing you see. the dirt path also winding as you both began walking through the forest. you could still hear the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore fills your ears and mixes with the crunching of leaves under your boots.

hongjoong told you and wooyoung that jeju island refused to have any relations with the hero association. the only reason you both are here is because the association they sent to the island over two weeks ago has been m.i.a.

speaking of wooyoung, you’re eyes drifted ahead of you where wooyoung is. shoulders stiff and his expression dark. the tension between the two of you is colder than the island’s breeze.

wooyoung throws a glance over his shoulder, gaze sharper than ever. you know he can’t stand you. still bitter about you, san, and seonghwa joining the team. letting himself even be tricked by wonyoung – a demon. he hated you, that much was obvious.

you remain calm, despite his hostile gaze, hands tucked into your jacket pockets. wooyoung suddenly stops in his tracks, causing you to halt a few steps behind him.

“i can’t do this,” he says, voice sharp, back still facing you.

“do what?”

“this!” wooyoung finally turns, gesturing between and around you both. “pretend like everything’s fine, like you’re one of us, like you belong on this team!”

you remain silent, but your silence only fuels his frustrations.

“i don’t get you,” he snaps, stepping closer. “you’re not suppose to be helping people – saving lives! you’ve fucking killed people, destroyed lives. and yet, here you are, playing pretend hero because the association told you too. you act like you care about the team; yeosang, mingi – grieving him even. but how do we know you mean it, that you aren’t just pretending!”

even if you won’t admit it outloud, his words cut deep. saying you don’t care about yeosang or even mingi. that your grief wasn’t real. you didn’t say anything back, once again remaining silent. showing him any emotions wouldn’t change anything at this point.

“say something!” he yells, voice echoing throughout the empty path. “anything!”

but you still wouldn’t say anything to him. wooyoung’s fist clenched tightly, knuckles surely turning white from the force. and before he could stop himself, he lunged at you.

your eyes widened but you didn’t fight back as he tackled you to the ground. you hit the dirt with a grunt, wooyoung straddling you as his hands wrapped around your throat. despite the death collar, wooyoung dug his fingers into your skin. attempting to cut off your airways.

“do you even feel anything?” he growls, grip tightening even more. you could feel both bitter heat and coldness seeping from his hands and into your skin. burning you with both fire and ice. “do you even care about anyone? about mingi? about us?”

your expression remained unchanged, eyes staring up at him with a certain emptiness. your face turning unnatural colors from the lack of oxygen. you weren’t fighting back, wasn’t struggling – you were simply… accepting it.

the sight truly unsettled wooyoung. his breathing coming through in ragged gasps as he stared down at you. then the realization hit him. you weren’t resisting because you didn’t care. you weren’t resisting because in that moment, you truly didn’t mind if you died.

a sharp pain suddenly shoots through wooyoung’s head, making him release your throat and clutch at his temples. the throbbing pain seared through him as his vision blurred, static buzzing in his vision and ears. wooyoung felt an overwhelming sense of unease flood through him as disjointed and static images flashed through his mind.

the figure below him shifted in the static, face unrecognizable as he hovered above them. lips moving but no sound coming out. he stumbled off of you, falling to the ground, clutching his head as he tried to make sense of what just happened. “what the hell…” he mutters, voice barely audible.

you sat up slowly, rubbing your throat but choosing to say nothing. you watched him with an unreadable expression, your gaze calm despite the red and purple marks now blooming above your collar.

for a long moment, neither of you spoke as wooyoung slowly felt the pain subside. the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees. finally, you stood, brushing dirt off your clothes. you took a step towards wooyoung and extended a hand.

wooyoung’s eyes looked up to meet your calm ones before they flickered down to your outstretched hand. he hesitated, just staring at your hand. then, with a scoff, he pushed himself to his feet on his own, completely ignoring you.

you weren’t surprised. you nodded your head before turning and continuing down the path towards the town. “let’s keep moving.”

wooyoung now followed a few steps behind, tension between you two thick and palpable. his mind racing, images he’d seen – your empty eyes – still haunting him. he glanced at your back, his frustrations mingling with a strange, yet unfamiliar feeling he couldn’t quite register.

by the time you two reached the outskirts of the town, the silence between you both was deafening. the air heavy and full of unspoken words, unresolved emotions, and something seemingly darker – a tension you couldn’t deny.

jeju island – town – day

cobblestone streets making winding paths that led the small town as you wandered through it. the ocean breeze carrying a salty tang that mixed with the earthy scent of wet dirt. you could also smell something more… unnatural. like something had been burnt not too long ago and the scent still lingers in the air of the town. you brushed it, after taking several glances around your walk and not able to find anything to support the smell. weird.

the townspeople were friendly enough on the surface, but you could tell that your appearance in their town made them uncomfortable. not because you were a villain, or had a blink, metal collar around your throat, but the fact that you were just… an outsider. whenever you asked them about the missing hero they were tight-lipped, saying they didn't know anything. faces turned wary, and voices hushed as they avoided your questions.

“excuse me,” you say softly, approaching an older woman, “i’m looking for information about a hero who was here recently. do you know anything?”

you notice the older woman’s face stiffens at the mention of the word ‘hero’. she shakes her head quickly, “we don’t meddle in the hero business here.”

“why not?” you couldn’t help but be curious on why they separated themselves from the rest of the country.

the woman looked nervously towards the town’s center, you followed her eyes only to find nothing too out of the ordinary. “this is a place of peace,” she begins, speaking lowly so you could only just barely hear her, “heroes bring chaos. you should leave before the dragon god grows angry.”

the woman mutters something else under breath and inaudible to your ears, turning away and leaving before you could ask her anything else.

“dragon god?”

after that encounter, any other encounters you would be met with cryptic talks of a “dragon god” but the locals refused to explain what, or who, this dragon god. you also heard mentions of a priestess, but again the townspeople would become tight-lipped and turn away when you try to ask them more. it was honestly starting to piss you off.

you approach a younger man, who offers more details as he gathers firewood. but his details only give you more questions than answers.

“the dragon god protects us… or punches us when we stray.”

“and what about the priestess?”

the young man pauses for a moment, glances around nervously before speaking in a hushed tone, “she serves the god. keeps the balance. don’t ask too many questions.” before you could press further, he then hurries off back down the path he came from.

caw! you look over to see a crow sitting on top of a stack of firewood. tilting your head you make eye contact with the bird who seems to mimic your movements. the crow let out one more loud caw before taking off, heading towards the mountains.

“what are you doing here?” you say to yourself before turning and making your way towards the town inn.

jeju island – town inn – evening

you’re surprised by how warm and small the inn is, with creaky wooden floors and flickering lanterns lighting the inside of the room you and wooyoung booked. you enter the room to find wooyoung sitting by the window, staring out into the night.

“you’re late,” he says rather flatly, but you ignore his tone.

“i was asking questions.”

he lets out something that was a mix between a huff and a laugh. “let me guess – no answers?” you don’t need to look at him to see he’s smirking at you, trying to rile you up.

“they kept talking about a dragon god,” you tell him as you go to sit down on one of the beds in the room. your weight making the mattress slightly sink.

wooyoung turned to look at you, eyebrow raised, “a dragon god? that’s original.”

“and a priestess, but no one would tell me more about either of them.”

wooyoung moves from the window to lean against the wall, crossing his arms, “i found out more than you, apparently.”

it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, “oh? enlighten me then.”

“the town’s been dealing with a lot of weird stuff. illness spreading for no reason, crops dying out of season, farm animals losing their minds.”

“sounds like they think their dragon god is punishing them,” you say quietly.

“or,” wooyoung says, interrupting your thoughts, “it's a villain. or worse – a demon.” a beat of silence passes between the two of you as you exchange a look thanks to his words. seems like he was thinking the same thing you were.

“if its a demon, the town wouldn’t even realize it. they’d just… worship it.”

“exactly,” he agrees, “which means that if we find the villain then…” he hesitates for a moment before continuing, “then we’ll probably find our missing hero.”

“or we’ll find his body,” you finish for him. he grimaces a little before nodding. this mission just got a lot more complicated, you think to yourself.

after the discussion, you find yourself settling into a rather tense room. the tension from earlier in the day with wooyoung is still heavy and thick between you. the flickering of the lanterns is the only warmth in comfort in the otherwise cold room. you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers running along the pages of the book you had brought with you. face impassive, but your eyes clearly hold a storm within.

wooyoung leans against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze burning into you. the silence between you both is thick, but his patience wearing thin. like he can tell that you aren’t fully invested into the book that sits in your lap.

“does the guilt get to you at all?” wooyoung says, finally breaking the silence. you don’t bother to look up at him, continuing to – at least – attempt to read your book. “does it bother you? eat you alive?”

“i don’t have to answer you, wooyoung,” you say, turning the page of your book, “i don’t owe you anything.” your tone is calm as you speak.

wooyoung pushes himself off the wall, voice rising slightly as he speaks, “that’s your problem. you don’t owe anyone anything, do you? not an apology, not an explanation – nothing,” with each sentence he moves closer to you. “you think you can just breeze through all this, leaving chaos in your wake.”

you stood, dropping your book onto the bed, “and you think yelling at me is going to fix anything? you think your anger gives you some kind of moral high ground? grow up.”

wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, fist clenching at his sides, “my anger gives me more moral high ground than you! at least i haven’t killed people out of my anger! how can anyone like you feel anything? or maybe that’s the point – you don’t.”

you feel your jaw tightened, but you refuse to let his words fully penetrate you, “believe what you want. i don’t have to prove myself to you, i’ve done enough already for you and the others.”

“then why are you still here if you’ve proven yourself?” he demands, voice rising. “why don’t you just go back to prison? why pretend to give a damn about any of this?”

your eyes flash with frustration, “you’re the one who keeps pushing, wooyoung. you hate me so much, yet you’re always the first to pick a fight. what do you want from me?”

“i want you to admit it!” he yells, stepping so close that your faces were mere inches apart. “admit that you don’t care, that you’re just waiting for the moment to stab us all in the back!”

you stared at him, you chest heaving from the restrained emotions. don’t lash out, don’t lash out, don’t lash out. “if that’s what you really think,” you say quietly, quieter than what wooyoung would have expected. “then why haven’t you done something about it?”

wooyoung froze, breathing ragged. for a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your breaths. then, as if something inside him snapped, he surged forwards, hands gripping your face as his lips crashed into yours.

the kiss was feral, a mixture and collision of anger, tension, and even need that sent a jolt of heat through your body. your initial shock by his sudden action melted into raw desire as you kissed him back just as fiercely. your hands clutching at his shirt and pulling him closer.

wooyoung let out a low growl from his throat, lips moving hungrily against yours. his hands sliding down to your waist and pulling you flush against him. the heat of his body seeping through the material of your shirt, warming your own body. he pushed you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed, you fell onto the mattress, dragging him down with you.

the weight of him against you sent a shiver through your body. his heat and ice powers send waves of heat and ice through you. his lips left yours, trailing along your jaw and down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he sucked hard enough to leave a mark. you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as your hips bucked up against his instinctively.

“damn it,” he muttered against your skin, voice rough and filled with frustration. “you drive me insane.”

“good,” you say back, voice breathless and laced with slight defiance against him.

his hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers both lithe and calloused, veins bulging from his forearms as he brushed them against your bare skin. he traces the curve of your waist, his touch firm yet somewhat teasing as he pushes the fabric of your shirt higher. a familiar heat pools in your stomach, your body almost aching for more as he leans up to kiss you again. his tongue tangling with yours in a battle for dominance.

your mouths moved against each other, tongues tangling and teeth grazing as you both sought to dominate the other even if for a moment. your hands slid under his shirt, nails raking down the expanse of his back. wooyoung let out a groan that your lips hungrily swallowed as his hips pressed into yours. you let out a soft moan, legs shifting to wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer than what you thought was possible.

“y/n,” he moans out, voice filled with a mixture of desire and restraint. he pulls back slightly, lips trailing over your jaw as you both try to catch your breath for a moment. his hands lingered on your bare skin, his fingers trailing dangerously close to your bra before settling on drawing lazy circles just below.

the moment was broken by a sharp noise coming from outside. the two of you froze, breathes heavy and mingling together as you strained to listen. the muffle sound of voices and footsteps filtered in through the window. wooyoung seemed reluctant to push himself off of you, but did so chest heaving.

“someone’s out there,” he says, voice still thick with the remnants of your heated exchange. you sat up, face feeling flushed and lips swollen.

you shake your head in an attempt to clear it as you stand up from the bed, “we should check it out then.”

wooyoung nods, jaw tight as he watches you make your way over to the window. eyes lingering on you for a little longer than he probably should have. he snaps out of it after a moment and comes to join you over by the window.

outside, you see a group of townspeople moving down the street, their lanterns casting an eerie glow. at the center of the group was a young woman dressed in head to toe ceremonial attire, her expression solemn.

“that must be the priestess,” wooyoung says quietly, almost calmer than it was moments ago. you watch with narrowed eyes, mind racing in an attempt to try and piece all of this together. what in the world could they be doing this late at night with the priestess. why did they all look so solemn and… mournful even.

“this doesn’t feel right.”

“no kidding,” wooyoung says before the two of you are exchanging a glance. then without another word, you two slip out of the inn and into the shadows, following the line of townspeople.

jeju island – mountain base – night

you managed to follow the townspeople from a distance, careful to stay hidden in the shadows. eventually, the people reached the base of the large mountain, where a cave entrance stood. the entrance was set up like some type of shrine or altar. the villagers then begin chanting, preparing the young woman for what you can only assume to be a sacrifice.

an unease chill runs down your spine as you watch, “we have to stop this,” you hastily whisper to wooyoung, moving to try and stop them, but he stops you by grabbing your arm.

“not yet,” he replies quietly.

“they’re going to kill her– or– or sacrifice her, wooyoung.”

“and we don’t even know what we’re up against yet,” he says harshly. “we need to draw back and come up with a plan. haven’t you said before not to act on anger or emotions?”

you bite your lip, reluctantly going along with his words, fist clenched as the two of you made your way back to the end. once back at the inn, you find yourself sitting on the bed, book in your lap.

“tomorrow,” you say, turning to look at wooyoung, “we’re going to kill their dragon god.”

“tomorrow.”

jeju island – town inn – dawn

the glow of dawn seeps through the curtains, lighting up the room in warm tones. you sit on the edge of the bed, tying your boots together. your fingers move like they are on autopilot, your mind going through what feels like ten-million other things all at once. across the room, wooyoung is once again leaning against the doorframe. his gaze heavy as he watches you, clearly conflicted.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room are the faint rustle of fabric and the occasional creak of the floorboards as the building settles.

“so you’re just going to pretend like nothing happened?” he asks, voice almost uncharacteristically soft.

you freeze for a brief second, fingers halting mid-motion. you swallow hard, tongue wetting your lips before you continue as though he hadn’t said anything.

he moves forward, voice a little louder, “y/n.”

you finish typing your boots, standing up from the bed to dust some invisible dust off, but you refuse to look at him. “we’ll talk about it later.”

wooyoung lets out a dry laugh, clearly not buying what you said, “later? and when is that? after we deal with this so-called dragon god or maybe if one of us dies then we won’t have to talk about it at all,” his tone is sharp, sharper than what he intended and he notices when you stiffen slightly.

“we have a mission, wooyoung. personal issues afterwards,” you say still not looking at him.

wooyoung frowns, stepping closer, “did it not mean anything?”

you finally turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment he falters. there’s something almost raw in your gaze, like for the first time since joining the team he’s showing you a clear vulnerability. it only lasts for a split second though before you are trying to cover it.

“it’s not that it didn’t mean anything. we can’t afford to lose focus right now. not when the townspeople here are in danger.”

“y/n…”

you look away, jaw tightening as you feel a jumble of words caught in your throat. you feel like you have so many things you want to say to wooyoung, but you can’t find it in yourself to say them. the feeling of his body pressed against yours had lingered in your mind longer than you would have liked to admit.

you finally let out a sigh, shaking your head as you spoke, “don’t make this harder than it already is.”

your words hang in the air for a moment, cutting through the room like a knife. wooyoung steps back slightly, hand running through his hair as he exhales deeply. before he could say anything; however, you speak up once more.

“back on the train… mingi promised we would go eat some good food. after we kill this demon…” you pause for a second, wondering if you should continue. “let’s go get something good to eat. and then– and then we can talk like you want.”

the vulnerability in your voice catches wooyoung off guard for a moment, making him pause. his earlier frustrations slowly fade away as he looks at you. its weird, he thinks, in this moment you don’t look like the monstrous villain the hero association has made you out to be, but instead… just a young woman.

it makes his stomach churn as this mind tells him that maybe this is just a trap, that you are so monstrous that you are faking everything. your true emotions hidden underneath a facade.

“whatever,” he says with a huff and you turn to him with narrowed eyes, ready to say something, but he cuts you off, “i get to pick though – don’t trust you to know what good food is.”

he makes his way back over to the door and his words catch you a little off guard. you nod your head and follow after wooyoung who waits at the door. he gets close to you, face inches away from yours. heated eyes looking into yours, “don’t think that one of us dying will stop this conversation, you hear?”

you nod your head once more, before the two of you are stepping out of the room and inn altogether. the situation of last night will remain unresolved for the moment. after all, you had a dragon god to kill.

jeju island – mountain base – morning

the path leading you to the mountain reminds you of the path you took that led you to town. dense with trees, but the air was… colder and heavy fog surrounded the area that you didn’t quite notice last night. you and wooyoung eventually stand at the base, staring at the dark opening of the cave at the base of the mountain.

“this is definitely the kind of place you’d find something messed up in,” wooyoung mutters, referring to the shrine that stood in front of the cave’s opening. you remember seeing the priestess walking up to it last night.

“sure is creepy,” you say, looking as an eerie chill running down your spine.

wooyoung can’t help the smirk that paints his lips at your response. without another word, the two of you move forward, stepping into the shadowy mouth of the cave’s entrance.

the echoing of your footsteps inside the cave gave the place almost a haunting feel. wooyoung’s fire sweeps across the area, illuminating the strange markings on the stone walls – scratches and streaks blood. you both round a corner, flickers of fire catching a horrific sight – a pile of corpse, young women all torn apart and half eating, missing limbs as they drap lifelessly over the rocks. their faces frozen in terror, everything about them was unnatural.

“oh my god,” you gasped out, stepping back. you press a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. wooyoung grabs your arm gently but firmly, pulling you away from the grotesque scene. this is what was happening to their priestesses? did the townspeople knowingly sacrifice the young women knowing their fate?

“don’t look, just keep moving,” wooyoung says, grip firm. you feel your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you nod and allow him to guide you away from the scene. you both press on deeper into the cave. the haunting chill in the air grows heavier with every step.

jeju island – cave chamber – morning

eventually, you and wooyoung enter a part of the cave that opens up into a vast, dimly lit chamber. at the center of the chamber was a woman who perched lazily atop a group of jagged rocks. from a first glance she appears just as human as you and wooyoung; however, the black smoke that coils around her from her mouth says otherwise. her aura is something that is both dangerous and alluring.

she opens her eyes and tilts her head to lazily look over at you both who remain rooted in place at the chamber entrance. her eyes are a cloudy white color and you can just faintly read the 상위네 – upper four – in her eyes, like the words were faded and no longer held any meaning.

she looks at the two of you with an amused face, “well~ what do we~ have here?” her words are droopy and slurred almost, dragging some of the syllables out. she blows a ring of smoke out of her mouth and you watch it change colors before turning to black.

“she has to be it,” wooyoung says quietly to you, but you refuse to look away from the humanoid looking woman. the woman stretches gracefully like a predator sizing her prey up.

“i wasn’t expecting guests~ especially~ not from the hero association. you’re far from home, aren’t you?” she speaks like she’s talking to two friends and not her enemy.

“are you the one they call the dragon god?” you ask steadily, taking a step forward.

the woman tapes a clawed finger to her chin as if thinking, “dragon god~ is that what they call me? humans are so interesting~ no, the name i was given is soojin,” she then descends from her perch with unnatural fluidity, circling closer to the two of you slowly. “i suppose i can’t blame them~ after all, i do keep them rather… entertained~ sacrifices, prayers, reverence… it’s all very flattering,” she added, voice soft yet dripping in mockery.

“and the dead woman? was that your idea of some sick entertainment too?” wooyoung asks snapping at soojin.

she stops, tilting her head before letting out a dry laugh, “oh them~ a necessary inconvenience, i say, power requires fuel, after all~”

“you’re killing them to sustain yourself,” you say, voice trembling with disgust.

“of course~” she replies back with a smirk, “isn’t that what survival is? you take, consume, and live.”

“what about the hero? the one who went missing her?” wooyoung asks, that’s right the missing hero was the whole reason you came to this damn island to begin with.

soojin tapes her chin thoughtfully, “oh, right. him.” she grins, her sharp canine teeth glinting in the dim light. “got a little too nosy for his own good~ the townspeople didn’t like that much, so they dealt with him in their… own way. i could still smell his flesh burning whenever i close my eyes.”

she spoke so casually it was like a slap in the face, especially to wooyoung whose fists clench at her words. his body trembling with just barely contained fury. soojin’s gaze flickers to wooyoung, smiling slyly, “you’re angry. i can feel it, go ahead, hero boy. give in to it.”

her words are like a spark, igniting his fire. with a growl, wooyoung lunges forward, his fist ablaze as he aims to strike her.

“wooyoung, wait––

suddenly, soojin stops wooyoung’s fist as if it wasn’t on fire and in turn burning her own hand. both you and wooyoung are in shock, but don't have time to think about it as she grabs wooyoung and flings him across the room like he weighed nothing. wooyoung lands beside you, dusting himself off as he stands.

her eyes locked onto the two of you, a sharp, predatory smile gleams with a mixture of amusement and malice. “did you think you’d come here and leave unscathed? let me show you why the villagers worship me.”

the air in the chamber thickens, charged with an almost suffocating, oppressive energy. she raises her hands, her claw-like fingers curling unnaturally. her eyes glow – the cloudy white color sends a chill down your spine as you watch the glow slowly begin to burn. black veins crawl across her skin, her body pulsating even more with power.

the sound of cracking bones echoes through the chamber as her spine arches unnaturally, her body twisting and elongating. a sickening rip accompanies her shoulders expanding outward, massive, jagged wings covered in scales sprout from her shoulder blades. the scales are so light that they seem to absorb what little light there is in the cavern.

she continues to transform, skin splitting open and instead of revealing flesh, reveals armored scales beneath. horns spiral from her temples, curling upward and her face takes on more dragon-like features.

the transformation reminds you of when seonghwa turns into his wendigo-form. terrifying and something out of nightmares.

suddenly, her neck splits with a grotesque tearing sound, forming a second head, then a third. it continued and continued until she was a massive dragon, towering over you and wooyoung with seven vicious heads snapping with power and looking down at you both. her tails lashes violently against the walls of the cavern, shattering several jagged rocks with ease. her wings unfurl and span the width of the cavern, their movements creating powerful gusts of wind.

soojin lets out a roar, her voice amplified as all seven heads speak at once, “kneel before your god!”

the two of you stand frozen for a moment, the monstrous sight before you far worse than what you originally thought. the cavern shakes once more due to her presence alone. debris crashing to the ground as her claws dig into the stone.

“we’re so screwed,” wooyoung mutters breathlessly and under his breath.

soojin lashes out with her multiple heads, each one targeting a different area. you and wooyoung are just barely dodging the attacks that come at you one right after the other.

“wooyoung, we need to take out the heads one by one!” you shout, summoning your sword and easily having one manifest next to wooyoung who tears it out of the ground.

“great idea,” he says sarcastically, and you stop the roll of your eyes, “which one first, genius?”

before you can respond, one of the heads fire a blinding beam, forcing you to cover your eyes. another head follows with a powerful gust, slamming the both of you into the cavern wall.

you struggle to your feet, “damnit, we don’t have time for this. why did it have to be seven!? hey, follow my lead.”

you raise your hand, energy flaring as roots and vines erupt from the ground and snake around one of the heads that spits purple smoke. at the same time, wooyoung hurls a torrent of fire at the head that breathes ice, easily melting and stopping its attack.

“wooyoung! your fire!” you shout through gritted teeth.

wooyoung nods before channeling a massive flame and you manipulate the roots, turning them into blazing whips that lash at the poison head, severing it with a deafening roar. black blood spills onto the ground, sizzling against the stone.

“you’ll pay for that!” soojin roars. one head surges forward, lightning and electricity sparking from its mouth which hits wooyoung square in the chest. he collapses to the ground, clutching his chest as smoke rises off his body.

“wooyoung!” you shout, panic overtaking you and you rush over to him, deflecting another bolt with your sword.

“i’m fine. i’m fine, just… keep going,” he says grimacing as he attempts to stand.

another head lunges for them, but you raise your hand, bending the shadows that roll off that head to instead hold it back.

that’s when you notice the head you severed regenerates. a new head sprouting from the stump and you watch in disbelief as it shakes around, knocking into the two on either side of the regrown head. the other two heads hiss at the newly grown one before turning their attention back to you and wooyoung.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you pant out.

“looks like our job just got a little harder,” wooyoung says from next to you. the two of you continue to press on, targeting the heads. wooyoung using his fire and ice powers in rapid succession while you counter and slash at the elemental attacks.

the chamber is in complete chaos as the battle rages on. the rocky debris rains down, the air thick with smoke and the stench of sulfur that comes from soojin’s fiery breath. you and wooyoung are beginning to feel the effects of the battle weighing down on you both. your uniforms are torn and blood seeping from your wounds leaves the both of you panting and even struggling to stay on your feet.

soojin looms above you, her seven heads rearing back in unison. each head pulses with its own power. her laughter, layered and distorted, echoes through the cavern.

“is this all the hero association has to offer? you’re weak, pitiful. just like the ones who came before you,” she mocks, voice filled with venom. you grip your sword tightly, knuckles white and your body trembles, not from fear but from exhaustion. you feel your energy pulse through you as you begin to channel what energy you have left.

“we need to hit her together… y/n?” wooyoung begins to say weakly before glancing over to you.

but you don’t respond, gaze locked on soojin. your eyes narrowing with unrelenting focus. the air around the cavern begins to shift, distorting like heatwaves. suddenly, the ground beneath you all cracks as a pulse of energy surges outward. your sword begins to flow, vines and roots snaking up from everywhere and even around your blade – as if coming to life. you start to feel weightless, hair lifting slightly like it was caught in an unseen breeze. your eyes glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

“what… is this?” soojin snarls, noticing the shift in energy.

you lift your sword and the cavern seems to respond. jagged stones on the floor rumble, cracks spider webbing outwards. roots erupt from the ground weaving together in haunting patterns, twisting and coiling like serpents, growing rapidly and snurging towards soojin’s monstrous form.

wooyoung can only watch you as the realization hits him slowly, “she’s… bending reality.”

soojin’s heads lash out, each one attacking with its unique element. lightning strikes towards you, but a wall of twisting roots rises and absorbs the impact. fire rains down, but vines erupt from the ground and smother the flames. one of the heads lunges for you, only to be impaled by a massive jagged root that bursts upward like a spear.

you take deliberate steps forward, glowing eyes fixed on soojin. the dragon thrashing against the relentless assault of roots and vines, but they continue to grow, binding her limbs and even snapping her heads back. immobilizing them and her body all together.

“no more,” you speak, voice otherworldly and with a sudden roar, you thrust your sword into the ground. the entire cavern trembles violently as an enormous tree begins to grow. its trunk spirals upward, thick branches erupting outward and becoming one with soojin’s massive body, legs and wings included.

the tree branches impale several of soojin’s heads, red energy surging through your body. the demon screams, her monstrous form convulsing, but the roots tighten their grip and drags her body down.

“what are you–– no! this can’t––

with one final surge of energy, you raise your sword high before slashing downward in one fluid motion. a massive surge of energy courses through the tree and the roots, and ends with a blinding burst of light.

when the light fades, soojin’s massive dragon form is no longer a threat. in her place is a massive wooden statue, the shape of a seven-headed dragon captured in a grotesque, writhing pose. the statute shines with an unnatural yet intricate patterns – as if the tree itself had absorbed soojin’s essence.

you collapse to your knees, body trembling from the sheer full force use of power that you haven’t done in a while. the glow in your eyes fades, leaving you looking drained.

as your vision begins to blur, you feel strong arms catch you before you can fully hit the ground. “y/n… hey, stay with me,” wooyoung says softly.

you try to speak, but your body refuses to respond. all you can hear is wooyoung’s voice, filled with an uncharacteristic concern as he holds you closely.

“you scared the hell out of me, you know that?” he whispers, voice shaking slightly. you can only manage out a faint hum as your consciousness fades, but not before you feel the faint warmth of wooyoung’s hand brushing against your face. you hear his voice before you officially pass out, “i’ve got you. good job.”

██████ – inn – morning

the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the morning light shining in through the curtains. you stir, body feeling heavy, every muscle aching as if you had been thrown against a wall repeatedly. which wasn’t far from the truth honestly. your eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment you wondered where you were.

as the haze cleared, the events from the mountain and jeju island flooded back. soojin. dragon god. the battle. and wooyoung…

you attempt to sit up, a sharp pain shooting through your body – your ribs – and you let out a quiet groan. your hand brushes against the coarse sheets of the unfamiliar bed as you glance around. the room was small and sparse with a singular chair pushed against the wall and a small table covered in what looked like rather hastily gathered medical supplies.

the door creaked open, and wooyoung stepped inside, his presence filling the room in an instant. he froze when he saw you awake, eyes widening slightly before his lips curled into a familiar smirk.

“well, look who finally decided to stop being a lazy ass,” he says, voice light in a teasing tone.

“you try fighting… a seven-headed dragon and see how you feel after,” you says hoarse, voice still showing your exhaustion.

wooyoung’s smirk softened as he shut the door behind him, “fair enough. you’ve been out for three days, had me thinking your were just starting to milk it at this point.”

“yeah, because i love waking up feeling like i got hit by a truck,” you say dryly. wooyoung chuckled, stepping closer and there was something in his expression, though – something softer than usual. he set a glass of water on the table next to your bed, movements slower and more deliberate than what they usually are.

“where are we?”

“mainland, some small town with a port. the jeju townspeople weren’t exactly thrilled to see us coming back from the mountain.”

“why not?” you ask frowning.

wooyoung hesitated, his jaw tightening, “your… power caused a bit of a scene. let’s just say they thought we pissed off their dragon god.”

“of course they do,” you say with a groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

wooyoung chuckled again, voice low and rough, and the sound sent a ripple of something through you. he sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight causing a dip in the mattress. his closeness made the air feel heavier.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. wooyoung was close enough that you could see a faint bruise on his neck and dried blood on his knuckles. you swallowed hard, the memory of you both fighting together flashing through your mind.

“can we…” he pauses, voice soft, “talk now?”

“yeah, i guess we should,” you sigh, shifting slightly to face him.

wooyoung’s gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers fidgeting as if suddenly nervous to speak, “back at the inn… when i kissed you…” he trails off.

you raise an eyebrow at him, lips twitching into a faint smirk despite the bubbling tension that is slowly beginning to resurface. “what, you think it was a ghost or something that made you kiss me?”

wooyoung’s head shot up, startled and for a second you saw the faintest hint of vulnerability in his eyes. then, he laughed – a short breath sound as he shook his head.

“i’m serious, y/n,” yet there’s a grin on his face.

“so am i, people do things in the moment. maybe it wasn’t that deep.”

his brows furrowed as he looked at you, voice dropping to an almost whisper, “it felt deeper. like… like something i couldn’t control.”

you felt your chest tightened, the weight of his words sinking in. you studied him, your teasing energy completely gone now.

“why are you telling me this? i thought you hated me?” you ask quietly.

wooyoung’s eyes meet yours, the intensity in them making your stomach flip, “because i can’t stop thinking about it. about you, you really do drive me crazy.”

the air between you both thickened, the tension that had been building up between the two of you now fully at the surface. wooyoung leaned in slightly, his hand brushing against yours where it rested on the bed. the touch sent a jolt through you, but you didn’t pull away.

“wooyoung…” you say breathlessly.

“tell me to stop, and i will,” he says softly, but you don’t. instead, you close the distance between the two of you, lips crashing into his in a way that stole your breath away. wooyoung responded instantly, his hands cupping the back of your head as he pulled you closer. the kiss felt intense as a series of emotions spilled out from the both of you at once.

wooyoung’s free hand slides down to your waist, his fingers gripping you as if you would disappear at any moment. your hands fisted his shirt, pulling him closer, basically needing him closer.

when you finally broke apart, gasping for air, wooyoung rested his forehead against your. breathes mingling in the, for the first time, comfortable silence.

“so… about that food you promised me?” you asked breathless, faint smirk painting your lips.

wooyoung let out a soft laugh, as you separate a little bit, “later. definitely later.”

“at least the jeju people are safe now,” you say, leaning back against the headboard, looking at wooyoung. you notice how the hero has a sudden grime look on his face. “wooyoung… what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment and it has to be the longest moment of silence as you wait for him to speak up. a hand runs through his hair as he lets out a stuttered sigh, “about that…”

“wooyoung?”

“the hero association sent out an order two days ago,” he begins to explain, standing up from the edge of the bed. “i think… it's better for you to come see it for yourself.” he says, holding a hand out for you to take.

you look between his hand and his eyes, which avoid yours like the plague, and back down to his hand before taking it.

██████ – dock – morning

“what the fuck,” you say, voice trembling as you look out at the sea before you. wooyoung stands next to you also looking straight ahead. “wh– what, what did the association do?”

in the distance where jeju island use to be instead housed a large crater in the center of the sea. jeju island was completely gone, no trace of the island left.

“they made the order to wipe the island out,” he says grimly, “in order to… stop any of the evil from the island to escape. they said the whole island was a liability and we couldn’t take the chance.”

“and you just let them do it!” you turn, rage boiling over as you look at wooyoung with a heated glare. “we stopped the evil that was on the island! those townspeople weren’t the evil, wooyoung! that fucking demon was!”

the ground beneath the both of you and the dock shook with your anger. the people on the dock screamed and ran for safety away from the water. wooyoung looked to see a large wall of water building up in the distance, panic set in as he looked back at you.

“y/n! stop it, i understand you’re upset but please!” he says, grabbing your hand, eyes shaking in fear at the large wave coming towards the dock. it would surely wipe the dock – if not the town – out in one swoop.

suddenly, a pain shoots through wooyoung’s head, “not… now,” he hisses out as his vision is clouded with static. wooyoung then falls to his knees, his nails digging into your hand as images of a faceless figure – covered in blood, stood in front of him.

“...young! woo… wooyoung! wooyoung, hey, are you alright?” your voice breaks through the static as it begins to fade away. wooyoung lets out a sharp gasp, eyes wide as he meets your concerned ones. in a panic he looks around the two of you to see…

everything is calm around you both. no one running and screaming and no large wall of water rushing towards the docks. he must have imagined it, he thinks as he looks to meet your eyes.

“you okay? scared me there for a second,” you say standing up, wooyoung didn’t even realize he was still clutching onto your hand as tightly as he was.

“sorry,” he says, shaking his head. he tries to stand but notices you holding your hand out for him. wooyoung hesitates for a moment before taking it and letting you help him up. “we should head back, an agent should be meeting us here soon.”

“okay,” you say, softly, following next to wooyoung. the hero looks behind him one last time, the large water crater being a haunting reminder of your mission together.

ACT V: SUNRISE COUNTDOWN

██████ compound – outside area – night

the forest around you was eerily still, the crunch of boots on gravel and the occasional crackle of the a comm unit the only sounds breaking said silence. you and the other seven members of ateez had fanned out, moving carefully through the dense brush towards the perimeter of a hero compound that had become radio silent about a week or two ago.

“i bet i can make it to the compound first,” you hear san’s voice through the comm, and you knew he had a smirk on his face.

“in your dreams. i’m already halfway there,” wooyoung snickers.

“focus,” jongho says, he tries but fails to hide his amusement.

“enough,” hongjoong’s commanding tone comes through next, “we’re not here to play games. stay vigilant.”

“relax, captain,” you say teasingly. “i’ll beat them all there and scope it out for you.”

“y/n, don’t rush in alone—

your comm went silent as you crossed the final stretch to the compound’s perimeter. quirking an eyebrow, you stepped through the broken gate and into the seemingly abandoned facility.

“victory is mine,” you say smugly over the comms. you hear the other’s voices crackled in protest, but then hongjoong’s voice cuts through.

“y/n, be careful. something’s off,” he says sternly. you can’t help but roll your eyes, brushing his concerns aside.

“relax, i’ve got this,” you say casually. you enter the compound, and can immediately feel the atmosphere shift. the air was thick, oppressive, and carried a faint metallic tang that sent a chill down your spine and churn to your stomach. you knew that smell a little too well. the hallways were bathed in a dull, pulsing red glow of the emergency lights. casting ominous shadows that moved and danced with every step you took.

quietly, you spoke into your comms, feeling as if you weren’t alone, “something happened here.” your voice crackled through the comm, but before anyone could respond, the connection distorted and faded.

“y/n–– what’s—- on?” san’s voice is faint, cutting in and out.

“y/n, get — there. — for backup,” hongjoong’s voice is next, coming in just as distorted and urgent.

their voices dissolved into static. alone in the red, dim corridors, you pressed on. the destruction became more evident with each step: walls scarred by scorch marks, debris littering the floor, and even deep gouges in the metal that you knew were the results from a violent fight.

you’re starting to think the heroes at the compound didn’t make it out of this fight alive.

when you finally reached the commons room, you couldn’t help but freeze, breath hitching. the sight before you was nothing short of a nightmare.

a woman sat on the couch, her posture relaxed, a faint, chilling smile on her lips. you couldn’t deny how extremely beautiful she was. almost inhumanly so. what was around was not as beautiful though, the heroes who once inhabited the compound lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies mauled and lifeless. blood pool beneath them, limbs separated from their original bodies and scattered about. the metallic scent now suffocating at the source.

“ah~ you must be y/n,” the woman asks smoothly. you feel your throat going dry, heart pounding in your ears.

“who… who are you?” you asked.

the woman rises gracefully, when she speaks, you can tell she is mocking you, “i’ve been dying to meet you. nicha yontararak. at your service.”

that name… you feel a chill go down your spine. “you’re the leader of the villain alliance,” you say firmly, trying to mask your previous shock, “why are you here?”

nicha stepped closer, her movements deliberate, almost predatory. “why~ to offer you a place among us, of course.”

“i thought you wanted me dead,” you say, sending a glare her way.

nicha laughed, the sound cold and detached, like she never learned how to properly laugh. “oh, i did. but then i realized… killing you would be such a waste. you’re powerful, y/n. more powerful than you even realize. more powerful than those weak heroes you have been forced to work for. let me help you unlock that potential. join me, i can turn you into a demon. imagine the strength you could wield.”

you could only stare at her, mind racing before you decided to speak, “i’d rather die than become a demon.”

you watched the smile fade from her lips, expression hardening as she spoke. “what a shame.”

without warning, the air around them rippled with intense energy. nicha raised a hand, and a deafening explosion ripped through the compound. fire and debris consuming everything around you and for a moment it all felt like it was going in slow motion.

until it suddenly wasn’t.

the rest of the team were closing in around the compound when the explosion shook the ground beneath them. shockwaves of energy and debris on fire flew around them, catching the trees around the compound on fire.

“y/n!” san shouted, eyes wide as he felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. legs carrying him and the rest of the team faster towards the blown up compound. debris raining down as fire roared into the sky.

yeosang was the first to reach the heart of the wreckage. his eyes scanning the devastation before landing on two grotesque figures amidst the rubble.

“no…” he says horrified, “no! no! no!” he screams as he sees you lay motionless, body burned and disfigured from the explosion. yeosang felt bile build up in his throat as he slowly begins to register that you’re dead.

beside you, nicha’s body was regenerating, the grotesque and gory process of bones reconstructing with muscle wrapping around it, and flesh and skin slowly knitting it together in an unnatural display of power.

san appears next to yeosang, when he appeared yeosang wasn’t sure, but the hero could easily feel the rage rolling off of san in waves.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” he roars, charging towards nicha, blood particles wrapping around his fist, but before he could land a blow, the villain leader snapped her fingers.

hanok doors appeared beneath their feet, the doors sliding open and engulf each of the members of team ateez into the infinity castle.

“i’d like to see you try!” she said laughing. her laugh echoing throughout the area and even deeper into the infinity castle as it swallows the team whole and sucks them deeper and deeper into the endless dimension.

infinity castle – all members

the team was descending through the endless void of the castle. their bodies suspended in an endless descent. around them, walls of the castle stretched and twisted, a labyrinth of shift platforms, endless staircases, and hanok doors that lead to both nowhere and anywhere at once. the air shimmers around them with an unnatural, oppressive energy that seemingly pressed against their chests and dulled their senses.

from the holes in the walls, demons and villains alike peered out, their faces illuminated by the faint, mockingly warm glow from the castle. some of the demons had glowing eyes that followed the falling heroes and villains with predatory curiosity, while the villains whispered to one another, voices echoing eerily.

“what is this place?” yeosang whispers to himself as he can’t even begin to take in everything around him.

“nicha! face us!” san yells, his voice angry and bouncing off the labyrinth walls of the castle. eventually, being swallowed by the ever-shifting platforms.

as yunho fell past a platform, his eyes meet with a familiar figure, breath suddenly caught in his throat. from one of the millions of platforms, yeonjun stood watching, his eyes burning. their gazes locked for a brief moment, enough for yeonjun’s lips to curve into a cruel smile before yunho could no longer see him.

“yeonjun…” he whispers, remembering the name you told him and the file that the association had on yeonjun before he joined the villain alliance. before yunho could even dwell on it further, the falling abruptly ended.

the team separated within the castle’s labyrinth as they landed on different platforms. the ground solid but unnervingly warm beneath their feet. some of the platforms floated in the air, connected by narrow bridges or staircases that seemed to shift and move on their own accord. no group could see or hear the others, the vast emptiness of the castle stretching endlessly.

infinity castle – yeosang and jongho

the air was heavy and stagnant as yeosang and jongho stood back to back. the infinity castle’s unnatural energy sending a faint hum through the otherwise silent area.

“what even is this place?” yeosang asks, looking around.

jongho didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the area. they soon began walking cautiously across one of the only few usable bridges. yeosang pointed ahead of the two of them, jongho following the older’s finger and gaze.

“look, a crow,” yeosang says quietly. the black crow perched on a railing ahead, beady eyes fixed on them. watching them. “how does a bird end up here?”

“probably a spy. let’s be careful around it,” jongho says and yeosang nods, not fully able to take his eyes off the animal.

the bird then let out a loud caw, flapping its wings before disappearing into a hole in the wall. the two of them continued forward until they reached a large platform.

the sound of someone walking, their footsteps echoing around the area, has both heroes snapping their heads to the sound. that’s when they see a figure emerging from the shadows – a young man with silver hair and a lopsided smile. his unnatural, bright blue eyes clearly show off the fact that he is a twelve moon. his eyes reading 상위다섯 – upper five – and the fact sends a chill down both jongho and yeosang’s spines.

the demon lets out a deep laugh, “well, well,” he says cheerfully, “look who’s wandered into my little corner! welcome to my domain!” the lighthearted tone of the silver demon caught the two of them off guard.

“who are you?” yeosang asks, immediately on the guard. the demon was too relaxed, but then again him and jongho were technically the intruders.

the demon lets out another laugh, running a hand through his hair to brush it out of his face, “felix, upper five, and i’ll be your entertainment for tonight.”

infinity castle – yunho

yunho printed down a corridor, watching as it shifted and changed with every turn. the walls around him twisted and contorted with doors appearing and vanishing as he continued to run. his sword cutting through weaker demons with such ease that he didn’t even need to blink twice. yunho was so focused that he didn’t even hear the shrieks filling the air from the demons as they dissolved into nothing. the infinity castle swallowing them up.

his focus was so narrow it was a surprise that he could even still see what’s ahead of him. his fists clenching the hilt of his sword tightly. he remembers when the hero association delivered swords to everyone – at the time he didn’t think he would ever need to use it. demons weren’t something anyone saw, a myth.

how wrong he turned out to be.

“yeonjun…” he says quietly. the name sounds like a curse, but yunho is determined to find the demon.

as he rounded another corner, the corridor opened into a vast hall. he paused, chest heaving, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. yunho could feel the presence of something stronger. something waiting for him deeper within the castle’s labyrinth.

infinity castle – seonghwa, san, and wooyoung

the three moved as a unit, their fighting instincts clearly taking over as they cut through and battled hordes of demons. wooyoung’s fire and ice burning through the weaker ones, while seonghwa’s brute strength and san’s precision strikes with his blood made for quick work with the rest.

the platform they fought on was massive, platforms above platforms along with stairs and bridges stacked high above them and stretched into the void. from the shadows of one of the platforms, a figure watched them, unmoving. their multi-colored eyes watching them with almost peaked interest.

“stronger than i expected…” they said, none of the three noticed the figure, focus locked on clearing the enemies around them.

infinity castle – hongjoong

hongjoong landed in a vast, open space, the air seemingly cracking with energy. the platform beneath him was circular… different from all the other platforms and structures he passed when he was original falling. he took cautious steps forward, his senses on high alert.

he needed to find the others; hopefully, they were okay. at least as okay as anyone could be in the hellish place.

a voice cut through the silence, smooth and almost familiar.

“looking for someone?”

hongjoong spun around, eyes narrowing as they landed on…

“no way… hyunjin? the– the hero association reported you as k.i.a almost a year ago?” hongjoong took in the sight of hyunjin before him, he was clearly no longer the high ranking hero, but instead a demon dressed in deep crimson robes. his unnatural yellow eyes burning with the words 상위하나 – upper one – sent an agonizing chill down his body, and his stomach twisted with the slow realization of what hyunjin has done.

hyunjin smirked at hongjoong’s reaction, eyes glowing faintly as he spoke, “the hero association only makes reports for their own convenience. you out of everyone should know that.”

the tension between the hero and former hero was thick as they sized each other up, the faint hum of the infinity castle’s energy glowing louder and louder.

infinity castle – yeosang and jongho

the platform trembled beneath jongho and yeosang’s feet, the vast endlessness of the infinity castle stretched around them. felix stood a few feet away, his silver hair catching the faint orange glow that illuminated the castle. the demon’s demeanor was relaxed, almost amused, as he spun his blade in lazy circles.

“you two look tense. don’t worry,” he says with a sick grin, “i promise to make this fun.”

jongho steps forward, voice hard as he speaks, “we’re not here to play.”

“you’re not walking out of here, demon,” yeosang says just as firmly.

felix chuckled, his posture unchanging, “big words for little heroes. let’s see if you can back them up.”

without warning, felix thrust his hand forward, water surging from the ground in a massive wave, crashing towards jongho and yeosang. jongho braced himself, planting his feet as the water slammed into him. his indestructible body held firm, though the sheer force pushed him back slightly.

“yeosang!” jongho yells through gritted teeth.

yeosang raised his arms, eyes glowing as the ground beneath them cracked and split. skeletal soldiers clawed their way to the surface, jagged weapons gleaming against the lanterns of the castle. they surged forward, intercepting felix’s second wave of water.

felix lets out a hearty laugh, “oh, that’s adorable. you brought friends!” felix twirled his blade, water surrounding him forming into sharp tentacles. with a flick of his wrist, the tentacles lashed out, slicing through the skeletons like paper.

“he’s faster than i thought,” yeosang says with a frown, eyes watching the upper fifth rank demon closely. jongho charges forward, his fist glowing with raw energy as he aimed a punch at felix. the demon sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid as water.

“nice try, but you’ll need more than brute strength to touch me,” he says with a grin. felix countered with a spinning kick, a blade of water slicing through the air and catching jongho across the chest. the force sent him stumbling back, blood seeping from the wound.

“i’ve taken worse,” the younger hero says through gritted teeth.

yeosang unleaded another wave of skeletal warriors, their bone weapons clashing with felix’s water tentacles. he darts around the chaos, focus sharp as he tries to find an opening. felix moved like a dancer, weaving through the attacks with a grace that bordered on supernatural. well… he was a demon after all.

“is this really the best the heroes have to offer? no wonder you all are killed so easily,” felix says with a mixture of teasing and mocking tone.

the taunt hit a nerve, making yeosang clench his fists, summon a massive skeletal knight that charged felix with a thunderous roar. felix narrows his eyes, smile fading for the first time. he spins his blade, a torrent of water swirling around him like a shield. the knight’s sword struck the barrier, shattering it but losing momentum because of the attack. felix lunged forward, driving his blade through the knight’s chest and having it crumble into ash.

“you won’t take us down that easily!” yeosang says, voice trembling with determination as he raised his hands higher. the glow in his eyes intensifying. the ground erupted again and even more skeletal soldiers clawed their way up. they immediately charged at the demon in coordinated assaults, giving jongho the opening he needed for his own attack.

jongho surged forward, ignoring the pain in his chest, and landed a solid punch to felix’s side. the demon’s body jerked from the impact, and he let out a grunt in surprise.

“not bad,” he said breathlessly and with a smirk, “but not good enough.” felix retaliated with a surge of water that struck jongho square in the chest and sent him flying into one of the main moving walls. the crack of impact echoed in the empty space.

“jongho!” yeosang called out with worry for his teammate. he then sprinted towards the younger hero, throwing up a barrier of skeletons to block felix’s next attack. he knelt beside jongho, who was bleeding heavily but still conscious.

“don’t… stop…” jongho says weakly. felix approached, his blade dripping with water.

“how touching,” he said mockingly, “but you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

yeosang stood, his jaw clenched. “the only person delaying the inevitable is you,” he says before drawing on every ounce of power he had, his body trembling with strain. the skeletal soldiers around him grew larger, their weapons sharper. the air around them all seemed to darken as yeosang unleashed his full strength.

jongho attempted to stand up, to help his teammate, but yeosang stopped him. “stay down. i’ll handle this.”

he charged felix, a skeletal army following close behind. the demon’s expression shifted to one of focus as he met the attacks head-on. the platform trembled under the intensity of all the power and fighting. jongho, despite his injuries and what yeosang said, still pushed himself to his feet.

“i’m not letting you do this alone.”

he joined the fray, fists glowing as he struck felix with everything he had. together, jongho and yeosang managed to push felix back, their combined strength surprising the demon

“you’re persistent, you bastards… i’ll give you that.”

felix unleashed a devastating wave, catching both heroes off guard. jongho shielded yeosang, taking the brunt of the attack, the force left him barely standing. felix, seeing this, took advantage of their weakened states, driving his blade through yeosang’s side. blood sprayed the ground as yeosang let out gasp, collapsing to his knees.

“jongho…” yeosang called out weakly. jongho let out a thunderous roar of his own, connecting his fist with felix’s jaw in a final, desperate attack. the impact cracked the demon’s neck, making felix stumble back, blood dripping from his mouth. in an effort to make sure he stayed dead, jongho took felix’s sword and made a clean cut through, serving the demon’s head from his body.

felix’s head rolled along the ground, “not bad… heroes…” his body then dissolved into ash.

jongho staggered over to yeosang, collapsing beside him. both of them were covered in blood, breaths shallow.

“hyung… you did it,” jongho says softly, placing a trembling hand on yeosang’s shoulder.

“we did it,” he replied back weakly.

“rest now, hyung, you’ve done well,” his voice breaking in the process.

yeosang’s eyes fluttered closed, his breathing stopping. jongho let out a shuddering breath, tears running down his cheeks, his own body finally giving out as he slumped beside his teammate. the platform fell silent, the glow of the castle dimming around them.

infinity castle – yunho

yunho moved through the ever shifting halls of the infinity castle. his boots pounded against the floor, each step echoing with determination. the castle seemed alive, walls writing and corridors twisting as if purposely trying to confuse him. weaker demons emerged from the hidden shadow filled nooks, their grotesque forms screeching and attacking him.

they didn’t last long.

with every swing of his sword, yunho craved through them effortlessly. his indestructible body easily ignoring their claws and teeth. blood splattered across the walls as he tore through all the creatures, his breath steady but his heart still pounding wilding in his chest.

his mind felt like a whirlwind of memories and emotions, each step driving him deeper into the castle – deeper into his own grief.

memories of mingi – the two of them becoming heroes together and fighting together. he remembers first meeting mingi. it was back at vanguard college, right after–

right after you were arrested by the association.

he regrets not living a better life with either mingi or you. the two of you deserved better. mingi deserved better parents that accepted his hero status and you… you deserved to have been treated better by everyone else.

he was the top hero and yet he couldn’t protect either of you. he regrets it a lot, he felt like he hadn't even gotten over griefing mingi before you were killed by nicha.

suddenly, yunho was ripped out of his thoughts as he stumbled into a large chamber. he took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself, grief still clawing at his throat. not now. he barely noticed the faint sound of something – someone – landing behind him until they spoke.

“lost in thought, golden hero?”

yunho turned around, eyes narrowing as he faced yeonjun. the demon was lounging against a pillar, his lithe form cloaked in a faint red, dangerous glow. his smirk is sharp and predatory.

“yeonjun,” yunho hisses his name out angrily. yeonjun pushes off the pillar, clapping his hands mockingly

“you made it further than i thought, you’re strong. i’ll give you that, but strength doesn’t bring back the dead, does it?” he says mockingly and even tops it off with a laugh.

yunho’s fists clenched, his anger flaring around him, “you killed mingi,” he says coldly. the grip on his sword tightened the longer he looked at yeonjun. his crimson eyes that read 상위삼 seemingly mocking yunho’s very existence.

yeonjun tilted his head, mimicking like he was in thought, “he put up a good fight – too bad he died so easily.”

that was the final straw for yunho. he charged, ground cracking beneath his feet. his blade collided with yeonjun’s outstretched arm. the impact sending a shockwave through the chamber. yeonjun grinned, his own strength pushing yunho back.

the two of them clashed, each strike reverberating through the infinity castle itself. yunho’s punches and slashes of his sword were fast and relentless, easily switching between the two attack types thanks to his high combat skills. his indestructible body also allowed him to take yeonjun’s brutal counters without faltering.

yeonjun was like a blur as he moved, his demon-enhanced speed and skill making his a vicious opponent against yunho. the hero has honestly never gone up against someone who matched his strength. he watched at the demon dodged and weaved, landing precise hits that would have shattered bones if it was anyone else.

“you’re good,” yeonjun teased, grin never fading, like he was enjoying the fight, “better than i expected, but you’re not unstoppable.”

yunho didn’t respond, his focus razor-sharp. he had to kill yeonjun. he had to avenge mingi. he landed a blow to yeonjun’s ribs, the crack audible. yeonjun barely even winced as he quickly countered it with a roundhouse kick, the force sending yunho skidding back a few feet.

blood dripped from both of them as the fight dragged on, neither one refusing to give up. yeonjun smirked, bloody fangs being proudly shown off.

“you’re burning out, aren’t you? heroes always do.”

yunho’s chest heaved, he could feel his energy flicker slightly. he gritted his teeth; however, forcing himself to stand tall.

“you don’t get to win, not after what you’ve done,” yunho says through clenched teeth.

yeonjun laughed, circling the hero like a predator. “and what are you going to do? die like your friend?”

the mention of mingi seemed to reignite yunho’s fury. he drove forward, his movements fueled by determination. he managed to catch yeonjun off guard, landing a devastating punch that sent the demon crashing into a wall. an outline of his body appearing in the wall, showing off the sheer strength yunho used in that punch. yeonjun pushed himself up, wiping the blood that seeped from his lips.

“not bad,” he was still grinning, but more weakly now.

yunho held his sword, blade shining against the lanterns of the castle. he lunged, aiming for yeonjun’s neck. the demon dodged, yunho’s blade and yeonjun’s fist clashing together. as the fight continued to rage on, yunho felt his strength slowly begin to leave him. his vision blurring a little, muscles screaming in protest.

yeonjun clearly noticed, smirk widening, “looks like you’re out of time.” a crow’s caw echoed through the chamber, drawing yeonjun’s attention for a fraction of a second.

it was all yunho needed.

with a roar, he drove his sword down through yeonjun’s neck, the blade covered in blood that splattered across the floor as he severed the demon’s head from his body.

yeonjun’s eyes widened in shock, blood running out of the corner of his lips. “impossible…”

the demon’s body began to disintegrate, head and body fading into ash. yunho collapsed to his knees, sword clattering to the ground next to him. blood poured from his wounds, breathing shallow. he smiled faintly, vision growing dim.

“i’ll… see you guys soon,” he says softly as he falls to the ground, eyes closing.

infinity castle – seonghwa, san, and wooyoung

the walls of the infinity castle pulsed and shifted once more, again and again, as seonghwa, san, and wooyoung pressed forward, their steps heavy with determination. san’s fists were clenched, using his blood powers to tear through any demon that got in their way. his way.

“i’ll kill her. i’ll kill that bitch nicha for what she did,” he says through gritted teeth.

seonghwa placed a comforting hand on san’s shoulder, his voice calm but laced with sorrow, “we’ll make her pay, but don’t let your anger consume you. y/n wouldn’t want that.”

san’s jaw tightens as he turned to seonghwa, his red-rimmed eyes filled with anguish. “i just… i can’t believe she’s gone. she was stronger than the both of us, of all of us,” he says, quietly.

seonghwa’s expression softened as look at his lover, “she wouldn’t want us to give up,” he says softly, yet firmly at the same time.

the three of them continued deeper into the castle until the air suddenly grew heavy, colder. a figure emerged from the shadows – a young man with surprisingly soft features and an unsettlingly carefree grin. his multi-colored eyes shined bright with 상위둘 – upper two – was written across his eyes.

“oh,” he began to say amused, “i’ve been waiting for you three. not every day the upper ranks get so many visitors. i’m beomgyu, upper rank two~”

san’s eyes narrowed as blood covered his fist, “get out of our way,” he spits angrily.

the demon tilted his head, grin widening, “and miss out on the fun? not a chance.”

san didn’t wait for another word, lunging forward with a surge of crimson energy. his blood whip lashed out, aiming for the beomgyu’s throat, but he sidestepped effortlessly.

“is that all you’ve got?” he said, laughing.

san, seonghwa, and wooyoung began to fight with coordinated attacks. san’s blood weapons slashed through the air, seonghwa shapeshifting his fist into clawed weapons and enhancing his speed and strength, while wooyoung unleashed blasts of fire and ice that alternated.

beomgyu was a blur of motion, evading their strikes with almost playful ease. like he wasn’t taking this fight seriously at all. like the three were just entertainment for him. when wooyoung landed a fiery punch that scorched a large hole into beomgyu’s side, the demon laughed as his skin regenerated almost instantly.

“you’ll have to try harder than that,” he teased.

san sent a wave of blood spikes towards beomgyu. the demon’s hand transformed into a ice blade, slicing through the spikes as if they were paper. beomgyu retaliated, slashing at san’s arm with blinding speed. blood sprayed as san’s arm was severed at the elbow, coating the ground beneath him with blood.

“san!” seonghwa yelled panicked.

san staggered for a moment before using the blood pouring from his wound to form a massive spear. “i’m not done yet!” he hissed, fiercely.

he then hurled the spear with all his strength, the attack forcing beomgyu to dodge. seonghwa and wooyoung seized the moment, striking at the same time in almost complete unison. seonghwa’s claws raked across beomgyu’s torso and wooyoung’s icy fist froze a portion of the demon’s chest.

for a moment, it seemed like they had the upper hand.

but beomgyu’s grin turned vicious as his body adapted and easily regenerated. his movements became even faster, his strikes more precise. icy tendrils erupted from his back, one of them impaling seonghwa through the shoulder.

“damnit…” seonghwa grunted out.

wooyoung then notice san swaying, his face pale. “san, you’re losing too much blood,” he says alarmed.

san clenched his teeth, shaking his head, “i can’t… i can’t die here. not before nicha–

wooyoung cuts him off, “rest. both of you.” wooyoung steps forward, his flames flaring brighter than they ever had.

wooyoung launched himself at beomgyu, whole body ablaze as each punch a wrapped in a deadly combination of fire and ice that seemed completely impossible to achieve. beomgyu grinned, dodging and taunting him. spurring wooyoung on with each attack.

“you’re persistent, i’ll give you that~ but you’re really starting to bore me,” he says mockingly.

with blinding speed, beomgyu slashes through wooyoung’s defenses, his icy blade carving deep, deadly wounds into the hero.

“this was fun~ but it looks like our time is over,” he says with a bored expression as he throws his ice blade against the floor, letting it shatter into a million ice shards that go flying around the area.

he turned, leaving the three behind as his laughter echoed against the halls.

the air was thick with the stench of blood. the once vivid flames of battle that engulfed the area was now reduced to faint embers. the fire being quickly and unexpectedly put out by an icy blade. seonghwa’s trembling hand reached for san, his body dragging across the blood-slicked floor. his vision was blurry, strength fading with every breath.

“san…” he trailed off weakly, voice cracking as he calls out to his lover.

san stirred, his remaining arm twitching as he forced himself to look at the seonghwa. blood dripped from his mouth, his face pale and somber. tears streaked through the grime and sweat on his cheeks as he looked towards the silver-haired villain – the ends of his hair dyed with blood.

“hwa… i couldn’t… i couldn’t protect you… or y/n…” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

seonghwa coughed violently, crimson staining his lips as he mustered the last of his strength to reach san’s hand. he intertwined their fingers, his touch weak but grounding to the both of them.

“you did your best�� you always do,” he says softly, a faint smile painting his lips.

san shook his head, tears continuing to fall freely. “don’t say that,” he pleads, “don’t give up! we– we can still fight. i just… fuck– i need to get up. i need to… kill nicha. we can’t let her win!”

seonghwa’s thumb brushed over san’s knuckles, a slow and deliberate motion. “sannie… it’s okay. you don’t have to fight anymore,” seonghwa says soothingly.

san’s sobs wracked through his body as he leaned forward in order to rest his forehead against seonghwa’s. “hwa… do you think we’ll see her again? do you think… y/n will be waiting for us?”

seonghwa’s smile wavered, his voice just barely steady as he spoke softly, “i know she will. she’s probably scolding us already for taking so long.”

san let out a weak, tearful laugh that quickly changed into a choked sob. seonghwa coughed again, breaths shallow and uneven, but he still managed to lift his free hand to san’s face. caressing him softly as he wiped the tears away with his thumb, his own eyes beginning to close.

“i’ll find you, both of you,” he whispers to san, “in the next life… we’ll be together again.”

san’s cries grew quieter as seonghwa’s hand fell limp, his head resting against san’s shoulder.

“don’t leave me… please hwa…” he pleads with a whisper. his tears slowed as his breathing weakened. his head tilted back against the wall, eyes gazing into the shifting void of the infinity castle.

“wait for me, hwa… y/n.. i’ll find you too,” his voice soft, yet fading. his final breath escaped in the a faint sigh, his body slumping beside seonghwa, their hands still clasped tightly together.

a short distance away, wooyoung laid sprawled on the cold, blood-covered floor. his chest rose and fell with labored breaths. blood pooling beneath him. the fiery determination that once burned in his eyes has dimmed. instead replaced by a deep, aching sorrow.

through his hazy vision, a figure appeared above him, like an angel bath in an ethereal light. what is an angel doing in this hellscape? his heart clenched as he recognized her.

“y/n…? is it really you?” he asks weakly, voice trembling. you smile was soft and warm, eyes filled with a kindness that felt… almost familiar and something he hasn’t seen in years. you knelt beside him, your hands gently cradling his face.

“it’s me, woo,” you say softly. tears slid down wooyoung’s face, mixing with blood and grime.

“i’m sorry… i couldn’t save them… couldn’t save you,” he says brokenly.

you shake your head, thumbs brushing over his cheeks gently. wiping his tears away as you spoke, “you did everything you could. you were so brave, wooyoung. i’m so proud of you.”

he let out a shaky breath, as static suddenly filled his vision. seeing images from a time he doesn’t remember. are these memories? no, they can’t be, yet… why do they involve him? involve you?

unless…

“y/n…” he calls out softly, lips trembling into a faint smile as more tears run down his face. “i… i’m so sorry,” he wanted to reach up and touch you, but he knows you aren’t real. “i’ve… i’ve missed you.”

you smiled down at him, leaning to press a featherlight kiss to his forehead, “i’ve missed you too, but it's time to rest now. you’ve done enough, woo.”

wooyoung’s tears continue to fall as he closed his eyes, your presence comforting, “i’ll see you soon,” he says before he body grew still, the tension melting away as peace finally claimed wooyoung.

the infinity castle seemed to hum with a strange, mournful silence. the three bodies lay motionless, their sacrifices imprinted onto the wood of the castle’s many, many platforms. somewhere in the ever-shifting corridors, a faint echo of laughter sounded, a grim reminder that their sacrifice and battle was just one of many that have happened.

infinity castle – hongjoong

hongjoong’s chest heaved as he face hyunjin, the former hero cloaked in an eerie calm was the complete opposite of hongjoong. hyunjin stood a short distance away, blade gleaming even in the dim, shifting light of the infinity castle.

“hyunjin… you were declared dead! what happened to you?” hongjoong asks, voice trembling with disbelief.

hyung tilted his head, his face void of any emotion and his voice calm as he spoke, “i needed more. more power, more recognition. i was tired of being overshadowed by you and yunho.”

hongjoong’s brows furrow, anger bubbling under his shock. “so you threw everything away!? betrayed the association – the people who trusted you?”

hyunjin looked at hongjoong, expression remaining neutral. “the association doesn’t trust any of us. lady nicha showed me the truth, offered me power beyond anything i could achieve as a hero.”

the confession struck hongjoong like a physical blow, his heart clenching at the words. hyunjin… so easily becoming a demon, giving up his humanity… it went against everything hongjoong thought heroes stood for. only villains were able to become demons – not heroes!

he looked at the demon with clenched fist, “you’re nothing but a coward. power without purpose is meaningless.”

hyunjin’s grip on his sword tightened, “i think you’ll change your mind when you’re lying at my feet,” he says menacingly.

hyunjin striked first, his blade slicing through the air with unnatural speed, propelled by gusts of razor-sharp wind. hongjoong just barely had any time to react, diving into the shadow – body disappearing in the darkness as hyunjin’s attack shattered the floor where hongjoong once stood.

hongjoong re-emerged behind him, shadows born from the light of the castle lantern’s lashed out like whips, aiming to bind hyunjin in place. the demon however was faster, blade transforming in a scythe as he slashed through the shadows with ease.

“so you can reshape your weapon now…” hongjoong said, voice grime.

hyunjin smirked, twirling the scythe in a graceful turn before it retracted back into a sleek katana. “ impressive, isn’t it? becoming a demon has greatly enhanced my powers to lengths you wouldn’t believe.”

the battle soon continued on, sound of clashing steel and shadows echoing through the castle’s endless corridors. hongjoong conjured a sword entirely forged from shadows, blade sleek and black which glinted against the orange glow of the castle. he charged, movements swift and deliberate, striking at hyunjin with calculated precision.

hyunjin parried the strikes with ease, his blade cutting through hongjoong’s defenses like he was cutting paper. a particularly vicious slash caught hongjoong’s side, drawing blood that quickly soaked his uniform. hongjoong gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of hyunjin who seemed to thrive off of wanting to see him fall.

the fight only grew more brutal, the hero and ex-hero exchanging blow after blow. at one point, hyunjin’s sword shifted into a massive broadsword, its force cleaving through hongjoong’s shadow blade with ease. the momentum carried through the giant sword cleaning slicing through hongjoong’s arm.

a scream tore from hongjoong’s throat as he stumbled back, clutching the bloody stump continuing to drip with blood – where his arm had been.

“still standing? impressive, but it’s time you stay down,” hyunjin says. the hero’s vision blurred from the pain, but he forced it away as he made himself stand upright.

“i can’t… i won’t. i have people to protect – my team, my family,” he says through gritted teeth, “you wouldn’t understand.”

for the first time, hyunjin hesitated, a flicked of an emotion crossing his face. “family? that’s why you’re still fight?”

hongjoong nodded, breathed labored, “that’s why i’ll never stop.”

hyunjin’s expression only hardened as he adjusted his grip on his sword, “just as i thought… so weak fighting for others. let us end this.”

the two charged at each other, their weapons raised. shadows and wind collided in a flurry of darkness and light – a juxtaposition of good and evil competing with each other. the sheer force of their clashes sends shockwaves through the castle.

hyunjin’s blade found its mark, piercing through hongjoong’s chest in a devastating blow. the hero’s shadow blade clattered to the ground, dissolving back in the shadows below them. hongjoong staggered, blood pouring from the fatal wound. hyunjin withdrew his blade, taking a step back.

“it was an honor to fight you, hongjoong.”

without another word, he disappeared into the depths of the infinity castle, his figure swallowed by the ever-shifting doors and shadows that surrounded them.

hongjoong collapsed onto his back, weight of his injuries finally overwhelming him. he stared up at the shifting ceiling, hanok doors coming and going in ways he could comprehend in the moment. his chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths.

a soft caw drew his attention. hongjoong turned his head slightly to see a crow perched beside him, its beady eyes fixed on his bloodied form.

“so… are you my guide to the afterlife?” he asked it weakly, a faint smile painting his bloody mouth.

the crow cawed again, tilting its head as if answering the hero. hongjoong chuckled weakly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. “i did my best… i hope the others are okay.” he says quietly to himself, as if trying to comfort him. the others are strong, they will make it out of the battles alive. he knows he can leave it in their hands.

he turned back to the ceiling, his breathing beginning to slow. ��do well… everyone.” his eyes fluttered closed, body going still, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. the crow cawed one last time before spreading its wings and disappearing into the endless corridors of the infinity castle, leaving hongjoong to rest.

infinity castle – the inner chamber

the dark corridors of the infinity castle twisted endlessly as a crow flew through them, its wings cutting through the deadly silence. it passed shattered platforms, blood-soaked remnants of battles, and the unnatural shadows clinging in every corner. at last, it finally reached the most secluded part of the castle – whether on purpose or accident that remains unknown.

lady nicha’s chamber was vast a illuminated by the same lanterns that light the rest of the dimension. in the center, nicha sits in a chair – a surprisingly simple chair considering her powerful status – her legs crossed in a relaxed pose. a low chuckle escaped her lips as she watched the final moments of hongjoong’s battle with hyunjin.

“so~ the heroes have all fallen… how delightful. with him gone, the hero association is crumbling. soon, the world will bow before me, its last hope finally extinguished.” she glanced to her left, where karina sat on a low cushion, plucking delicate, mournful notes on his bipa. “karina, summon the remaining upper ranks. a new era is about to happen.”

karina nodded, her fingers trailing over the strings of her instruments – plucking a certain note that immediately had to two upper moons arriving: hyunjin and beomgyu. the two appeared in the chamber, expressions neutral as the awaited nicha’s orders.

nicha couldn’t help the wicked smile that graced her lips, “you’ve done well to survive this far, my moons. with the last of the great heroes gone, nothing stands in our–

her words are cut off as an unsettling silence fills the room. nicha turned to look behind her, karina sitting motionless, her bipa laying untouched in her lap.

“karina, why have you stopped playing?” nicha asks, a frown now settling upon her lips.

instead of saying anything, karina slowly rose, turning towards nicha to reveal that it wasn’t the female demon sitting on the cushion. the figure looked that nicha with a calm, confident expression. no, instead dressed in a flowing hanbok identical to the demon’s was you, your presence commanding and cold.

for the first time nicha was caught off guard, shocked to see you standing before her and her upper moons, “you… how are you alive!? i killed you– i saw you die!”

you took a step forward, expression unchanging. “did you kill me? or did you just believe what i wanted you to?” you asked her quietly, voice hiding a hidden edge to it.

nicha’s eyes widened in realization, breaking slowly becoming uneven, “you… you bent reality… our memories.”

“smart girl,” you say cooly, “it wasn’t hard really. you wanted so badly to believe you’d won that you didn’t notice the cracks in your own memory.”

nicha stumbled back as you drew closer to her, clutching her chest in both realization and disbelief, “this is amazing! what is the true extent of your power? not even the hero association could comprehend it! you truly are––

before she could finish, you moved with blinding speed, hand plunging into nicha’s chest. blood sprayed along your face and clothes as you ripped the demon’s heart out. your expression remains unchanged yet deadly. nicha collapses to her knees, her hands trembling as she pressed them to the gaping wound in her chest. panic begins to settle in when she notices how she’s not regenerating like she’s supposed to.

“w–what ha–have you done t–to me?”

you studied the still-beating heart your hand, tilting your head slightly. “oh, nothing much. just taking back the power i gave you. you didn’t think someone like you would’ve been created by the hero association and allowed to live past an hour, did you?” you say casually, bending down to look at nicha in her eyes.

her eyes widened, face pale. “c–created by the he–hero association?”

“did you think anyone’s powers came naturally? that your powers came naturally? the association has always created its superhumans. none of us were ever ‘born special’ like how they advertised.” nicha gasped, blood pooling beneath her. “and you? you were just my little pupper, a figurehead to distract the world. a convenient excuse for the association to let me out of prison. i had thought – well, if they can create superhumans… why can’t i, so i did. amazing isn’t it.”

the reality of your words hit nicha like a physical blow, and with one final shuddering breath, she collapses to the floor, lifeless. you looked down at her lifeless body, expression devoid of sympathy. more of disappoint – surely as the strongest demon she would have put up more of fight. guess not. you stood up and with a flick of your wrist, tossed the demon’s heart aside, blood splattering against the chamber floor. you turned to the remaining upper moons, beomgyu and hyunjin, who remained frozen in place at your display of power and knowledge.

as the silence stretched, they eventually dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in submission. “...master,” hyunjin says, both unsure and sure of calling someone other than nicha that title. but… weren’t you lady nicha if you had created her?

your lips curved into a faint smile as a crow fluttered into the room, landing next to the demon’s heart. the bird picked at it a few times before flying up and landing gracefully on your shoulder. you reached up to stroke its feathers, “i guess you done well too,” you say to the small creature.

the crow cawed softly, head tilting as if acknowledging your praise. you turned to face the vast, pulsating walls of the infinity castle, smiling coldly. “the hero association needs to be destroyed and now… nothing stands in my way.”

you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your chest, laughter that echoes through the chamber. the crown spread its wings and took off, disappearing back into the endless maze. the two upper moons rose, standing at attention behind you as you began to walk towards the castle’s exit. your hanbok trailing behind you like a shadow.

END.

#snakesandplottwists #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #poly ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez superhero au #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez san x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez yunho x reader #ateez dark au

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internetgiraffekid1673 · 11 hours ago

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I'm now racking my brain for book scenes that would pass a reverse bechdel test, just for fun. It is genuinely so funny to me that I'm having to make the same exceptions I usually make in reverse, lol. Dexter in particular gets more focus in the books, but his best friends are Raven and his sister, so that doesn't help much lmao.

I can think of a few that come close off the top of my head. The first is in Dexter's end-of-summer short story that takes place just before the school year.

The Charmings are at a big family reunion and they all segregate by gender for a family scavenger hunt. The girls get a list of places to lock themselves up in where they have to wait for rescue, while the boys all get a list of family heirlooms to hunt down. Each heirloom is guarded by something dangerous, but saving the princess will give you something helpful to defeat it.

No girls are mentioned explicitly by name except for an off-handed comment about Grandma Alluring and most of them are only vaguely referenced i.e. "save a princess if you find her, but BACK TO THE QUEST!"

(Neither Darling nor Dexter plays by the rules of course. Darling saves herself (with a little accidental help from Kitty), and ends out retrieveing a magic sword out of a swimming pool while fighting the razor eel guarding it. She then rehides the sword in a much safer and easier spot and helps her 7 year old cousin find it, so that he can get some of the attention he's been lacking (poor kid is named Good Enough because his parents ran out of adjectives.

Dexter trips and falls into a broom closet where he gets attacked and imprisoned by a changeling that was NOT part of the game. No, apparently his cousin Charity really wanted some alone time away from the Charming Insanity TM to read some books, so she summoned a malevolent and dangerous magical being to impersonate her. She was immediately imprisoned, but since she hasn't run out of books yet, she's not too fussed, and she figures she'll only start screaming when she gets bored. Dexter breaks himself out and defeats the changeling using his Aunt Arachne's magical crochet hook, and then sends Darling to rescue Charity).

Dexter also has a short conversation about being a wallflower with a half-ogre manservant Gordon (where Gordon offhandedly mentions his mother and father) in this, and a good-natured wrestling match with Daring at the beginning (where Dexter yells "oh no, she's going to fall" to trick Daring off his game, which works). I think between these moments, we've got a full scene.

The next would be in A Semi-Charming Kind of Life, which is in the Next Top Villain series by Suzanne Selfors.

There are many scenes in this book where Darling impersonates Dexter via wearing his full body jousting armor and pretending to have a flu so s/he can't talk (Dexter actually does have the flu and is safely sleeping in his dorm during these scenes. He has no idea she's doing this).

As such, while Darling is technically present for all the jousting classes, she doesn't actively participate in the conversation and everybody thinks there are no girls around. Since all of these scenes are almost exclusively about jousting techniques and tournament talk, I think they count, even if Darling isn't paying particularly close attention to the guys' small talk since she's busy trying not to expose herself.

The final one I can think of off the top of my head is a very miniscule moment---more of a microscene---in Once Upon a Pet.

During the story about how Hopper got his pet dragonfly, he spends a lot of time with his roommate Sparrow Hood. While most of this is spent in typical Hopper fashiom---obsessing over Briar---the presence of a fire-breathing dragonfly distracts him from girls for a fair bit. They spend decent time brainstorming a name for him (Briar ends out naming him Drake), and Hopper also monologues at Drake---in frog form---about how he's not uncivilized enough to eat him, even if he is hungry.

Well! That was a fun little experiment! The fact that I have to have such extensive book knowledge and I'm STILL nitpicking does prove your point, and your point about how funny/kinda cool Mattel is for this is a good one (especially because it is 10 times worse over in Monster High. Love you Mattel). But I will say if you'd like to see more stuff about the dudes where they get to actually do things and be more developed, go read the books!

Who am I kidding, I only ever EAH post for one reason. Even if you don't care about the guys, go read the books! They're great! Maybe if I get enough of you on this train someone'll finally write fanfic with book canon!

in love with how eah would fail a reverse bechdel test if it existed. there's like six guy characters and i cannot for the life of me recall an episode with them that didn't involve any of the girls. the thronecoming day bookball game? they were losing badly and got their asses saved by cerise. dragon games? not a single guy got drafted onto a team. not even daring, the only one who has a confirmed dragon riding license. true hearts day? ashlynn was given comfort by her friends but the writers didn't even have a single scene of hunter being consoled by his friends. this is mattel keeping fifth wave feminism alive

#ever after high #eah #darling charming #eah darling charming #eah dexter charming #dexter charming #it feels disingenuous to tag hopper and sparrow on this sorry #again: proving your point #ever after high books #eah books

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annymation · 2 days ago

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Sonic Movie 4 Theory 💙

Hey guys! Since Sonic Movie 3 has been consuming my brain, specially that post credits scene, I’ve decided to write down my predictions to what will happen in the next movie.

I’ll probably be wrong, but that’s ok, theories are not meant to be 100% accurate, they’re just fun to make, and I’ve came up with some ideas that I really wanna share, feel free to share your own theories in the comments or add whatever you think might make my theory even better.

Alright, let’s begin

What can we learn from Amy’s first appearance?

So from the little time we get from her we can catch a few things:

1. She already has plenty of fighting experience against these Metal Sonics

2. Her hammer is futuristic looking

3. She has a hooded cape, like, she’s not meant to be seen by anyone else

4. This last one is important: Her smile implies she already knows Sonic

With all of that in mind, I believe this Amy is from the future, but as I’ll explain, she’s not from far away in the future, rather… She’s from the time Sonic Movie 4 ends.

That’ll make sense in a sec, probably, I hope so, we'll see.

To make this theory make sense, first, imma talk about where I got my inspiration for it… Soooo

Have you guys watched Howl’s Moving Castle?

The Howl’s Moving Castle paradox theory✨

That’s how I’m calling my theory by the way, since it was what inspired the whole idea of it.

So, to explain my theory, I’ll have to give yall a mild spoiler of this Studio Ghibli movie, in case you haven’t watched it, it’s surprisingly not a big deal in the narrative but in any case, you’ve been warned.

Still here? Good, so here's the spoiler

At the end of Howl’s Moving Castle, we get a scene Sophie goes back in time, she sees past Howl, and screams to him, asking him to come find her in the future, as she’s being sucked in back to present day

This scene gives new meaning to the scene at the start of the movie when Howl “first met” Sophie, and he said:

Soooo why am I bringing this up? Well, I believe Amy is having the same role Sophie had in that movie, and of course, Sonic is getting Howl’s role, but, while in Howl’s Moving Castle we followed Sophie’s point of view, in Sonic 4, it's like we're following Howl's POV, or in this case, Sonic's.

You might already have an idea where I’m going with this.

Where Is Present Amy?

As I've mentioned, I believe that Amy we saw at the post credits scene is from the future, well, that begs the question, where is the Amy from the NOW?

That's up to Sonic to find out.

Just like how Sophie was forcefully brought back to her time after meeting past Howl, I believe this Amy will disappear too, because she can’t stay in that point in time for too long, but before disappearing, she’ll ask Sonic to look for her in their home planet, which we'll be referring to as Mobius.

However, before she can tell him specifically where he can find her, her time will run out. Future Amy will be gone, leaving behind a very confused blue hedgehog, and one sack of rings.

Before she left, all she had time to tell Sonic was “find me on planet mobius, on the island-“ and then she was gone in a poof of green sparkles reminiscent of the green stars we see when time traveling in Sonic CD.

With that as their only clue, Sonic, Tails and Knuckles will have a very hard time finding her, considering that the whole planet is full of islands.

South Island, Christmas Island, Cocoa Island, Starfall Islands, West Side Island and MANY many more.

But despite the odds not being in their favor, they go anyway, with backpacks full of snacks for the trip of course, and the rings Future Amy left behind.

We’d get, let’s say, a 3 minutes montage accompanied with music of the boys going through various Game locations, from both old and new Sonic games, and probably some much needed lore exposition from Knuckles and Tails, with Sonic being amazed by the planet he never got to know more about.

That’d satisfy fans that want to see more game lore stuff while also not costing the animators that much to design all the anthropomorphic animal characters in the background and so on.

Of course, it’s not easy finding a pink hedgehog among millions of other animal people in a whole planet, but Sonic doesn’t care, he gotta know who she was, and how she can help them deal with those knock-off robot versions of him, they may strike again at any moment... Also she was really pretty but that surely is unrelated to why he wants to find her so much *cough cough*

So, to make matters worse, the wind blows away a sketch Sonic had made of Amy to help them identify her, it falls on a lake, but, much to the boys luck, it’s pulled out of the water by a fishing hook… And they encounter a certain big friendly purple cat.

Yeah, I know this is getting into fanfic territory, but hey, with the little info I have currently I kinda have to make stuff up, plus, the writers have shown interest in inserting Big the Cat in these movies for a WHILE now, but never got a good excuse to do it. This is my take on how they could implement him into the narrative in a natural way, that wouldn't just make the 3D modelers make a whole BIG character to be a blink and you'll miss it reference in the background.

Back to the plot, Big gives them the sketch back, but with it being all wet, they don’t have much hope left that they’ll ever find the girl they’re looking for. Big laments that their drawing got ruined, and as they’re leaving he casually adds “It was a really good drawing of Amy, I’m sure she’d like it”

Their ears perk up as they quickly turn to the cat, and Big confirms he does know her, they’re neighbors, and she was currently on an adventure of her own, apparently looking for some kind of “destined encounter” as she had put it. Big gives them the location where they can find her.

Which would be riiiiiiiight here

I believe this location is called Never Lake, but Idk if it's canon or just an Archie Comics thing, either way, I'm calling it Never Lake.

Anyway this segment is already getting pretty long so I’ll make this brief, Sonic finds Amy, on his own, Knuckles and Tails went to different sides of the island to look for her, it’s important their first meeting is just the two of them.

I have three ideas to how this first meeting could go:

When he finds her, she could either be on her own, distracted as she checks her tarot cards and Sonic awkwardly interrupts it, startling her, making the cards flow away in the wind, to which Sonic catches them quickly, which both impresses Amy and proves to her the cards were right, she got her destined encounter.

2. Alternatively, she could not be alone, she was being attacked by a group of hooligans *cough cough* Fang, Bean and Bark *cough cough* and Sonic proceeds to save her while being a lil a snarky trickster and making her laugh during the whole rescue.

Either one of these first encounter ideas works for me because both set up Amy being certain Sonic is the one her cards told her about, however, even though seeing more mobian characters and get a cute scene of Sonic fighting bad guys is cool, I do prefer option number one, for reasons that will become more clear in a sec.

. . .

Ok the sec is over, the reason is because I think another Metal Sonic would show up and try to kidnap Amy and having her being rescued twice is redundant, his motivation? Some version of her from a different point in time just wrecked a whole army of them of course, so he's trying to get her before she can become that future self (time travel sure is messy to write but work with me here)

Sonic, now accompanied with Tails and Knuckles defeat him, preferably also with Amy's help so we can get some main 4 action we've been waiting for, and now, they got a deactivated Metal Sonic laying on the floor, ready for Tails to take to his workshop (aka the garage) and figure out where, or rather, when this thing came from, get some memory files, and most importantly, find out how it time travels.

Gathering all that data, Tails is able to unlock the secrets of time travel, and also he figures out that changing the past will not change the future this Metal Sonic comes from, how is that? Welp, let me explain

How Will Time Travel Work?

In science fiction there are 3 types of time travel theories:

The Fixed Timeline

The Dynamic Timeline

The Multiverse

For this theory, we are going with the idea Sonic 4 will follow the rules of the Multiverse Theory

Don't let that name fool you, I'm not saying we gonna get Sonics from other universes crossing over like game Sonic, boom Sonic, Sanic or whatever, no, here's how it works:

According to this theory, when a time traveler journeys to the past, or future, they do not travel within their own timeline but rather to a parallel timeline. This means that any actions taken in the past do not affect their original timeline, thereby avoiding paradoxes.

Think of it this way, let's say you have two choices, you can choose between going to the mall or staying home, in one timeline you chose to stay home, in the other you went to the mall, in this theory, those two timelines still exist as different universes, like a river dividing in two different directions, the choices we make create different branching timelines.

I think a fun way Tails could explain this to the group would be using the logic of video games, like, imagine he explaining while geeking out and we get visuals referencing classic Sonic games.

In a video game, there's two ways a level can go, you either pass, or you get a game over, now, what happens when you get a game over? As in, what happens in the game's story, well, the bad guy wins, but that doesn't really matter since you can just restart and try again, right? Right, at the end of the game we always end with the "timeline" where the hero didn't die at all, but, what about those alternative timelines we DID get a game over?

Tails explains that he believes these robot versions of Sonic come from an alternative timeline where Sonic DID get a "game over", thus creating a "Bad Future".

By saying "game over" Tails would't be implying Sonic died btw, he believes Sonic just got captured in this alternative future and needs some help heheh how naive what, who said that?

Anyway, now that we got the logistics of time travel, I guess it's about time we address the metallic hedgehog in the room.

What's The Deal With Metal Sonic(s)

So, from the little we've seen from Metal in that post credit scene, one thing is certain, he wanted Sonic dead.

That to me at least kinda confirms the movie will work with the Multiverse logic in mind, because otherwise, if Metal were to kill past Sonic then the events in the timeline would change drastically, that is, if we were going with a Dynamic timeline where past events affect the future. In the Multiverse theory, killing Sonic in that moment would simply create a new timeline where Sonic just went for a race with Tails and Knuckles, disappeared and never came back home, a new bad future.

And that, my friends, is what I think those Metal Sonic's were trying to do, going back in time to different moments where Sonic was alone, distracted and helpless, just to eliminate him over and over and over again, creating a bunch of branching timelines where Sonic get's his game over, by an enemy he doesn't even know.

Think of it as Metal taking the "There can only be one Sonic" thing to the next level, there can only be one timeline where a Sonic wins, and that Sonic is ME.

It makes sense right? At least I think it does, you tell me.

I'm working with what we've seen so far, all we got was Sonic distracted and all alone, then Metal showing up like the Exterminator, indicating he's from the future, put those two informations together and my brain says "Metal is going back in time to kill Sonic in all the moments in his life he was alone and distracted"....... My brain is kinda crazy tho ngl.

And with the little information we got I'm about to go even crazier as I explain what lead to Metal's creation.

I'm still pondering how Eggman would work in this theory, I'm torn between just saying he died and Shadow survived and crash landed because he's just THAT durable, or, both him and Shadow time traveled to the future through Chaos Control. Either way, sounds good, I'm undecided, but let's say Agent Stone started to work on Metal Sonic first, then a few years later Robotnik just popped up again in the narrative because Shadow just made a Chaos Control that took them to the future actually, so they're fiiiiiine, this is the part of the theory I'm least sure of.

Events That Lead To The Bad Future

In this segment I'll describe what I believe happens in the alternative timeline Metal Sonic comes from, all the following events would be narrated through exposition and flashbacks, not actually play out in the movie for too long, just thought it was important to make that clear.

After the events of Sonic 3, Stone spiraled down into deep resentment towards Team Sonic, believing it's Sonic's fault for the doctor slowly going insane and ultimately resulting in his supposed death.

So, he decides to finish what the doctor started, by creating a robot that could not only match, but also surpass Sonic.

We know from Sonic 2 that Stone has at the very least SOME knowledge of technology, he changed a whole coffee shop into a secret base. However, even though he is skilled, I don't think Stone could ever make Metal Sonic on his first try (Nor Eggman honestly)

So he started with prototypes, sending them to cause havoc so Sonic and friends would fight them, and he could collect more data about how Sonic fights

And each time, model after model, Sonic would always beat these "knockoff" Sonics, and each time, they'd come back improved, but never good enough to defeat them.

Perfect opportunity for us to get a flashback or exposition with these guys being these prototypes

Years go by, let's say, 5 years, with Sonic now being 20 years old, Knuckles is 21 and Tails is 13, and in between that time Eggman and Shadow also came back through Shadow's Chaos Control (Again, this is the part of the theory I'm most iffy about, could use some ideas from ya'll).

So far the future is bright for the boys, they went through many adventures together, are way more skilled and fought so many pesky robots it's practically a game for them at this point.

It's not a game for prototype Metal though, who has retained the memories of all his defeats, every single time Sonic has mocked him with a cheeky grin, every failure, reminding him he's not good enough.

From that, something sparks inside of Metal's programing...

Hatred.

He's tired of this vicious cycle, tired of following orders from both Eggman and Stone. However, he's still confined by his programming, an un-willing servant who wants to break free but simply can't.

Until one day, Metal get's a whole new look, as usual, he's sent to fight Sonic and friends, once again as he always does... But something different happens.

He manages to disobey.

When Eggman orders Metal to attack Sonic, Metal decides a diferent strategy, and attacks Tails instead, knowing that Sonic would throw himself in front of his little brother to protect him, and indeed that's what happens... Metal did't miss his shot.

For the first time in one of these battles Sonic got injured, not seriously injured but enough to impress Eggman, shock Stone and give Metal a huge boost in his confidence, and mainly his ego.

The villains get away, with Stone now worried with how Metal seems to be deviating from his programing and wanting to do things his own way, while Eggman is just over the moon knowing Metal's artificial intelligence has advanced so much, he decides to go a step further, giving Metal more freedom to do as he pleases without the need of commands, and also uses Sonic's quill to power him even more, announcing their little project is out of beta, and Metal Sonic is their final design.

Little did they know, Metal had other plans.

Neo Metal Takeover

Yeah you've read the title, you knew it was coming, I need this boy in the movies very badly.

Basically, Metal Sonic upgraded himself, gave himself a voice, an identity, seeing himself as Sonic perfected, a Sonic that wasn't held back by fear of losing his loved ones nor bound by any morals. He was Neo Metal Sonic.

Just like in Sonic heroes, Neo rebels against Eggman and Agent Stone, and goes to defeat Sonic his own way, in a permanent way that would finally put an end to the endless cycle.

They put up a good fight, but ultimately, Sonic in a trapped, Neo Metal wins, he has Sonic right where he wants him and Tails and Knuckles can only watch, he's ready to give the killing blow... But... Sonic doesn't look defeated.

He smiles... That same determined smile Metal has seen over and over again, and in fact, Sonic doesn't even look at Neo at all, he just turns to Tails, eyes full of hope as he says "It's up to you now, I'm counting on you"

He probably would say something to Knuckles too but in true middle child mocking older sibling fashion he'd just go "You better beat this piece of scrap metal or I'm SOOOO gonna come back as a ghost to haunt you"

So yeah anyway, alternative future Sonic dies, rip, Tails, Knuckles and Shadow (bet you forgot he was alive) all fail to defeat Neo because dude can just copy abilities and also he made a bunch of Metal Sonic clones.

He proceeds to take over the world under the disguise of Eggman (because just like in Heroes he can shapeshift) following exactly how the doctor envisioned the world, dominated by machines and pollution, sooooooo yeah, we get our Bad Future! Uhuuuuul!

You'd think after all that Neo would be satisfied, right? He'd just lay back and enjoy his world domination... But nope! He couldn't accept that in Sonic's final moments the hedgehog still had that gleam of hope in his eyes. Neo didn't win, not really, because he never got to break Sonic's spirit.

Neo decides to fix that.

Now, I don't know how they gonna deal with the means Time Travel is activated, it could be with the Time Stones like in Sonic CD, but I don't know where Neo could find those, or, it could be with the Chaos Emeralds like it is in Sonic 06. Either way, the point is that Neo figured out how to time travel, and he chose to use that power to be the ultimate hater.

So, we circle back to where we've started, when I said Metal Sonic is going back in time to different moments where Sonic was alone, just to kill him, over and over and over again.

Needles to say, Neo Metal Sonic got issues.

Of course it's not exactly HIM who is doing it, Neo is still in his empire in the bad future, while his clones are doing the job of killing a bunch of past Sonics, but still, they're all connected in the same network, like they're all the same character.

Sooo anyway, you might be wondering, where the heck is Amy?

So, Back To Amy

You may have noticed I didn't mention Amy at all during this whole explanation about how the bad future came to be, welp, that's because she's not from that timeline.

Now this is the part it's kinda confusing and I remind ya'll about the whole "Howl's Moving Castle" paradox I've mentioned in the beginning, logically it doesn't make much sense, but I'm looking at this in a POETIC way, like they were destined to meet and the stars aligned yadda yadda yadda that kind of stuff.

Logically, it doesn't make sense Howl met Sophie because her future self from a few days in the future told him to come find her in the future, since she only time traveled BECAUSE she met him in the first place, and yet, we don't question it, we just think it's cute.

The same way, in this theory, it doesn't make sense Sonic met Amy because her future self from a few days in the future told him to come find her in the present, since she only time traveled BECAUSE she met him in the first place, and yet, I'm asking you guys to not question it, we just think it's cute, and writing time travel sucks.

Anyway, so what do I think will be Amy's role in this story?

Well firstly, she falls for Sonic, that much I feel certain about, but her role won't be just fangirl and be all sticky, after being rescued from that Metal Sonic attack, she's HYPED to join Sonic and the others in this adventure, she wants to help them the best she can, even if her hammer is just a toy hammer (yeah she only get's the futuristic one later) and she's not as fast as Sonic, she still promises to not leave them until they defeat those robots, and thus, she fits right in with the team.

She's girly, enthusiastic, has a heart of gold, and most of all, she's optimistic.

Once Tails finishes building the time travel gizmo, which as I've mentioned before, could be on Sonic's shoes or a wrist watch, they're all set to go to this bad future, believing they can help their future selves deal with these robots.

However, Sonic can only time travel if he runs very fast for a long time, and he can't really do that carrying Amy, Tails & Knuckles on his arms, right?

So, Knuckles decides to stay behind, trusting on Amy to be the muscle of the team in his absence. Sonic carries Amy on his arms, while Tails holds tightly to his back. As Sonic runs, the speed builds and builds to the point sparkles start to glow around him, but, Sonic runs so fast, Tails can't hold on and... Tails let go and falls before they time traveled, being left behind in the present.

Sonic and Amy are on their own in the bad future, and Neo Metal Sonic couldn't be happier to get his second chance.

With that said... I'm gonna stop here.

Final Notes

I could go on detailing how I think the events would play out from here, but I'll just summarize with a few bullet points:

As soon as Sonic and Amy get to the bad future they're already chased down and captured, and Sonic loses the gizmo that allows him to time travel, thus they're trapped there for a good chunck of the movie.

Tom and Maddie are still in this story, in the first act they support the boys going to their homeworld to find Amy, giving them snacks for the trip and just asking them to be careful. They help out Tails when he's making his time travel gizmo, and in the second act, we see them in the bad future, along with other humans who are trying to hide from Neo Metal, like a kind of resistance group.

Throughout the narrative, Amy with her positivity would be the source of hope Sonic needs in order to overcome all the pain he'll endure seeing this horrible future. No matter how bad things get, Amy believes in him, and in turn Sonic believes in himself, even if his future self lost, that Sonic didn't have an Amy, so there's still a chance.

Sonic also helps Amy in her own character journey, she doesn't see herself as a heroine, and is deeply insecure about her future, hence why she's so interested in tarot cards, so she can be sure of what's gonna happen next, however, Sonic teaches her to see her own value, and how amazing she already is in the present. They both highlight the best parts of one another.

You may be wondering where Tails, Knuckles and Shadow are in this bad future. Well ya'll might hate me for this, but I do like a good cliche, and it sure is a cliche that in dystopian alternate future you see your loved ones turned into mind controlled robot versions of themselves... Yeah

What can I say? I love some angst. Also, it would be a neat callback to the roboticization thing from the Archie Comics.

Shadow wouldn't be roboticized, he'd be locked up by Neo. Sonic and Amy find him and free him, we get a heartwarming moment where Sonic is relieved he's alive, and they get at least one ally that can help them figure out how to fix all this mess.

6. Eggman and Stone could be locked up along with Shadow, and I can only imagine how pissed off Sonic would be seeing the doctor again, I need Shadow and Amy holding him while Eggman comedically runs away scared.

7. Climax of the movie would be Neo and Sonic having a race for the Master Emerald, and just to prove he doesn't need any upgrades to beat Sonic he reverts back to his original smaller form we all know as Metal Sonic. The race is actually a distraction so Amy, Shadow, Eggman and other human characters can free Tails and Knuckles from their roboticized state. Of course, Sonic wins, Neo get's mad and almost emotional about the fact he can't even beat a younger version of his "loathsome copy" in a race. Sonic tries to reach out to him and reassure him he doesn't have to be perfect (or some other kind of lesson like that), and extends a hand just like he has done to his two other rivals in the past... Neo Metals says "naaaaah f*** that" and grabs the Master Emerald, turning himself into Metal Overlord, and THEN we get our final climax.

Obviously Sonic wins, all the metal sonics were controlled by Neo so they deactivate when he's destroyed. But before Sonic goes back to his time, Tails, now conscious, points out that the shenanigans Neo Metal pulled with time travel has created a bunch of divergent timelines where Metal Sonics have killed Sonic in the past, which is pretty bad for the time stream as a whole.

Amy offers herself to time travel to the same points in time these Metal Sonics went, saying she can defeat them before they hurt Sonic in any timeline. It's too risky for Sonic to do that himself, since if he's seen or touched by any of his past selves it could be a bit troublesome.

Soooo yeah, that's what Amy was doing in the post credit scene, just doing a clean sweep of all the Metals who tried to hurt her darling Sonic. Using a hammer that future Tails designed that allows her to time jump directly to all those Metals, but she can't stay in those points in time for too long.

And with that, I think we're done.

Final Thoughts

Although I'm happy with this theory I do recognize the chances of it being right are VERY low.

The tone of these movies is quite different from all of this, the implications of Sonic dying, even if not shown of screen, might be a bit too much for Paramount to accept, and even SEGA honestly.

But hey, it happened in 06 so there's a small chance I suppose.

The point of this theory really is that I hope we get to SEE Amy develop into that Amy we saw in the post credits, and the idea of her going back in time to save Sonic over and over again just sounds very cute to me, for once she's the one saving him and not the other way around.

All in all, I hope you enjoyed this theory/almost fanfic. Please leave your opinion, constructive criticism and questions in the comments! Hope we can improve these ideas together!

Thank You For Reading!

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