#and even if he's accepted his fate for what it is

[meltinglatte]

Bestfriend's Sister

Pairing : Mingyu × afab reader

Synopsis : in which mingyu has a crush on his best friend's sister but is too scared to ask her out ;)

Genre : short story, smut

Warnings : size k!nk, creampie, boob play, drinking, masturbat!on

[ New author, so if there are any mistakes let me know, will try to improve ]

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Chapter 1 : Meeting you again

Mingyu sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop illuminating the darkened dorm room. His notes sprawled chaotically across the table, mirroring the chaos in his mind. College life wasn't the smooth path everyone had promised.

"Just get into SNU," they said.

"Life will be set." Those words now felt like a cruel joke.

Surrounded by prodigies and overachievers, he often wondered if he truly belonged. Balancing academics, friendships, and the rare moments of self-care had become an exhausting juggling act.

And just when he thought it couldn't get more complicated, fate threw him a curveball.

At the 2024 fresher's party, amidst the crowd of enthusiastic new faces, his heart froze. There she was—his crush. The girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart years ago now stood a few feet away, laughing effortlessly with a group of freshmen. Mingyu's pulse quickened as a wave of disbelief washed over him.

"What is she doing here?" he muttered under his breath. For years, he'd assumed she would follow her brother's footsteps and study abroad. Her brother—his best friend—had often talked about how their family prioritized prestigious overseas education. Seeing her here, in his university, was the last thing Mingyu expected. It wasn't just her presence that threw him off. It was the tangled web of emotions that came with it.

Mingyu had long accepted that his feelings for her were off-limits. She wasn't just any girl; she was his best friend's sister. And if there was one unspoken rule in his life, it was this: never break the bro code.

He could already hear his friend's voice in his head, joking yet firm: "You even think about my sister, and I'll kill you, dude." It wasn't an actual threat—probably—but Mingyu had never dared to test it. Yet, seeing her now, radiant and completely unaware of the storm she'd just stirred in his heart, made things infinitely harder. As the evening wore on, he tried to act normal. To blend into the crowd. But his eyes kept drifting back to her. She looked different—not the high schooler he remembered but someone more confident, more vibrant. 

"Why now? Why here?" he thought. Life was already overwhelming, and now he had to deal with this? But deep down, he knew the truth. He wasn't mad because she was here. He was mad because, for the first time, he couldn't ignore the possibility of something more. And that scared him more than failing his next midterm.

"Eoh? Mingyu oppa?" Sera's voice broke through the noise of the crowded room. Her eyes lit up as she smiled at him, her face the perfect blend of surprise and warmth.

"It's been so long, right?" Mingyu froze for a moment, caught off guard by how effortlessly she drew his attention. Rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit he couldn't seem to shake—he managed a coy smile.

"Yeah, it has," he replied, his voice quieter than he intended. A brief silence settled between them, the kind that felt heavier than it should. Mingyu scrambled for something to say, anything to fill the growing gap. "Congrats," he finally offered, his tone sincere. "Getting into SNU's med school isn't easy. You must've worked really hard."

"Thank you, oppa." Sera's smile widened, her cheeks slightly tinged with pink.

Before either of them could say more, a loud voice cut through the moment. "SERA-YAH!" Her friends were calling from the other side of the party, their laughter and energy adding to the lively chaos of the party. Sera glanced over her shoulder before turning back to Mingyu.

"I think they're waiting for you," Mingyu said, his tone gentle but his expression unreadable. She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to stay or go. "You're right. I'll see you later, oppa," she said with a small nod before heading toward her friends.

Mingyu watched her retreating figure, her laughter blending into the noise of the party. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, the familiar ache in his chest returning.

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Some weeks later

"Bro, let's win this game," Joo Hyuk said, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with determination.

"Yeah, let's do this!" Mingyu replied, his voice full of energy as he tightened his shoelaces and jogged onto the field.

The match between SNU's engineering department and the medicine department had drawn a sizable crowd, the atmosphere electric with cheers and chants. From the whistle's blow, it was clear this wasn't going to be an easy game. Both teams played fiercely, each pass and tackle charged with adrenaline.

It was neck-and-neck, the score tied until the final moments. Then, with a perfectly timed pass from Joo Hyuk, Mingyu seized the opportunity. With a sharp kick, the ball soared past the goalkeeper and into the net.

The engineering department erupted into cheers, their players rushing to huddle around Mingyu, who was grinning ear to ear. "We did it!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of celebration.

On the sidelines, Sera watched the scene unfold with a smile. The medicine department's supporters were quieter now, some already drifting toward the exit. She turned to her friends and laughed lightly, saying, "I guess we'll have to cheer a lot louder for our medicine department next time."

Mingyu, still catching his breath, heard her words over the noise. He glanced toward her, his grin softening. Her laugh, her effortless charm.

It wasn't the words that caught him off guard but her outfit — her cheerleading outfit. 

The way the uniform fit her, or how the vibrant red skirt clung to her thighs, drawing his eyes in an almost magnetic pull. It was the sheer presence she exuded from across the field that captivated him.

Mingyu had always been aware of her beauty, under the stadium lights, she was a vision that sent a rush of heat through him. Every leap, every sway of her hips was a siren call, pulling him in deeper despite the distance.

He gulped hard, trying to focus on the other celebrating their victory, but distraction had a way of creeping in when least expected. Mingyu felt an undeniable pressure building within him, an urgency that demanded his attention. "Oh shit, not now," he muttered under his breath, realizing he couldn't ignore the undeniable reaction his body was having any longer. The heat radiating from his cheeks was felt in more than just his face.

He excused himself, the camaraderie of his teammates drowning in the chaos of his thoughts as he slipped away towards the washroom. Once inside, he swiftly closed the door behind him, locking it with an almost desperate urgency. The small space was eerily quiet, but in the stillness, the rush of blood in his ears was deafening.

With shaky hands, he fumbled with his pants, feeling the strain of his arousal pressing tightly against the fabric. The image of Sera in that unforgettable outfit - the way it hugged her curves, the glimpses of her pale skin - played behind his eyelids. It was intoxicating, igniting a fire within him that was impossible to suppress.

As he freed himself, his breath quickened, the need to release the tension almost overwhelming. He thought of her laughter, the way she sparkled with energy, and the sight of her moving gracefully with each cheer. Each thought sent shivers through him, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace.

Mingyu leaned against the cool tiles of the wall, consumed by the moment, lost in his mind as the outside world faded away. In that tiny sanctuary, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, letting the image of Sera dance across his thoughts, a vibrant whirl of red and gold that pushed him closer to the edge.

Chapter 2 : Pride First

Mingyu stepped out of the washroom, his face flushed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He ran a hand through his damp hair, avoiding Joo Hyuk's gaze as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed.

Joo Hyuk shot him a side-eye, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Seriously, dude? GET SOME PUSSY MAN," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I didn't come to the washroom to hear my roommate release himself in the university washroom," Joo Hyuk continued. 

"Sorry", Mingyu mumbled, his ears burning as he hurriedly brushed past Joo Hyuk.

Behind him, Joo Hyuk shook his head, muttering to himself, "This guy... hopeless.". 

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Two weeks had passed since that day, and Mingyu had made it his mission to avoid Sera. He steered clear of the med department entirely, choosing routes and spots where he knew he wouldn't run into her. It wasn't easy, but he convinced himself it was necessary.

That afternoon, he sat in the bustling campus canteen, savoring his boba and relishing a rare moment of peace. The sweet tapioca pearls were a small comfort in an otherwise chaotic schedule.

But peace was fleeting.

"Mingyu oppa!"

Her voice rang out, bright and unmistakable. His heart sank as he looked up to see Sera rushing toward him, her long hair flowing behind her, her smile as radiant as ever.

Mingyu forced a small, polite smile, his grip tightening on his drink. "Oh, hey, Sera."

"This weekend, can I go home with you?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes hopeful. "My mom sent something for your mom, and she told me to give it to her directly."

Mingyu hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He scratched the back of his head, trying to buy himself a second to think. "Oh, um, sorry, but I'm not going home this weekend," he said, his voice as nonchalant as he could manage.

Sera tilted her head, her expression puzzled. "Huh? But you go home every weekend," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, quickly averting his gaze. "But I've got this big project to work on. You can go without me, though."

Her smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, nodding. "Oh, okay. I see."

Before she could say anything more, Mingyu stood, grabbing his cup. "I've got to get going. I'll see you around, Sera," he said hurriedly and walked off, leaving her standing there. 

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That weekend, Sera found herself standing in front of the Kim family's home. She rang the doorbell, clutching the small package her mother had given her. Moments later, the door swung open.

"What took you so long?" came a familiar voice, half-scolding, half-teasing. Mingyu's mother stood in the doorway, her expression softening the instant she saw Sera. "Oh, it's you, Sera! I thought it was Mingyu."

Sera offered a polite bow and a small smile. "Hello, auntie. Sorry to drop by unannounced."

"Nonsense! Come in, come in," Mrs. Kim said warmly, stepping aside to let her in. "It's always a pleasure to see you."

Once inside, the comforting scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Mrs. Kim led Sera to the living room, gesturing for her to sit. "Honey!" she called out toward the garden. "Look who's here!"

Mr. Kim emerged a moment later, wiping his hands on a towel. His face lit up when he saw her. "Ah, Sera! What a nice surprise. Come, have a seat," he said, pulling out a chair for her.

Sera couldn't help but smile at their warmth. "Thank you, uncle. I came to drop something off from my mom," she explained, holding up the package.

"What is it?" Mrs. Kim asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she watched Sera carefully unwrap the package.

As the final layer of wrapping came off, Mr. Kim leaned in for a better look. "Omo!" She exclaimed, her tone filled with surprise and admiration.

Inside lay a pristine, carefully preserved 30-year-old ginseng root, its rich golden hue a testament to its value.

"Mom heard that you weren't feeling well recently," Sera explained with a soft smile. "She said this 30-year-old ginseng would be perfect for you and insisted I bring it over."

Mrs. Kim's hand flew to her chest, her eyes widening. "Omo, Sera! This is so expensive. You didn't have to go through all this trouble!"

"Please, just take it," Sera said, her tone gentle but firm. "Mom would be upset if you didn't."

Mrs. Kim glanced at her husband, who nodded approvingly, a proud smile playing on his lips. "Your family is always so thoughtful," Mrs. Kim said, her voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you, Sera. This means so much to me."

"Of course, auntie," Sera replied. "Mom said your health is more important than anything."

Mr. Kim chuckled warmly. "Looks like your mom has great timing. This will definitely help her feel better."

Mrs. Kim placed the ginseng back into its wrapping with care, her expression softening. "You must stay for dinner, Sera. I won't take no for an answer."

Sera laughed lightly and nodded, her heart warmed by the sincerity of their gratitude.

"I don't understand why Mingyu didn't come home," Mrs. Kim said, her brows knitted as she placed another dish on the dinner table. "He told me just last Monday that he'd be coming back to pick up some important things."

She sighed, her frustration evident. "He should have at least given us a call," she added, shaking her head.

Sera, seated across from them, glanced up from her plate. "Oppa said he had a project to work on," she said casually between bites, trying to downplay the situation.

"Project?" Mr. Kim interjected, his fork pausing mid-air. "What project? He told me just last week that he was finally free because his project was done." He frowned thoughtfully. "Did the professors give him another one so soon?"

Mrs. Kim crossed her arms, her expression softening into mild concern. "Something doesn't add up. He's usually so responsible about keeping us informed."

Sera's thoughts clouded as she processed the conversation. Mingyu was avoiding her—she knew that much—but to go to such lengths to steer clear of her? That realization hit harder than she expected.

She forced herself to finish dinner quickly, the food tasting bland against the turmoil in her mind.

"It would've been nice if you stayed the night," Mrs. Kim said warmly as Sera got up to leave.

"Next time, Auntie," Sera replied with a polite smile, bowing deeply before stepping out of the house.

The moment she was outside, the weight of her thoughts bore down on her. "Does he really hate spending time with his best friend's little sister this much? Am I... that embarrassing?"

"Fine," Sera muttered under her breath, clenching her fists as she walked to the bus stop. "If I'm that embarrassing, then I'll avoid him too. I'm Jeon Sera, after all."

Her voice carried a defiant edge, as if saying it aloud would make her resolve stronger. She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to hold her head high as the bus pulled up.

The ride back to the college dorms was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional chatter of other passengers. Sera stared out the window, the city lights blurring past her.

"If he doesn't want to see me, then so be it," she thought, though a small pang of hurt lingered in her chest. "I've got my pride too."

Chapter 3 : Make Him Jealous

Three weeks had passed since Mingyu last saw Sera. At first, when he was avoiding her, he'd still catch glimpses of her around campus—a fleeting silhouette in the crowd, her laughter echoing in the distance. But now, it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

Not once did he see her near the library, the canteen, or even the med department corridors.

Mingyu adjusted his bag on his shoulder, glancing around the campus grounds as he walked to class. The familiar buzz of students chatting and rushing past him felt oddly hollow. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.

"I guess it's for the best," he muttered under his breath, his words lacking the conviction he wanted them to carry.

"Bro, wanna party after class?" Joo Hyuk leaned over, grinning as he nudged Mingyu.

"Nah, I'm fine," Mingyu replied, shaking his head.

"Come on, man," Joo Hyuk pressed, but before he could push further, the professor entered the room, silencing the chatter. Mingyu turned his attention to the front, zoning in on whatever physics the professor was explaining.

When the bell rang, signaling a break, Joo Hyuk was already on his feet. "Oh, finally a break! Come on, let's roam around the campus."

"It's just 15 minutes," Mingyu argued, opening his book. "What's the point of going out?"

Joo Hyuk rolled his eyes. "I'm not hearing all that." Without waiting for another word, he grabbed Mingyu's arm and dragged him out of the classroom.

"Damn, it's sunny," Joo Hyuk groaned, shielding his eyes as they walked toward the canteen. Once inside, he headed straight for the cashier. "Two iced Americanos, please."

While Joo Hyuk waited, Mingyu wandered near the seating area, his eyes scanning the room. He paused mid-step when he saw her. Sera.

"Oppa?" Her familiar voice rang out, accompanied by a bright smile as she moved in his direction. Mingyu froze, his heart skipping a beat.

But just as quickly, reality hit him. Sera walked past him without a second glance. Mingyu blinked, confused, and turned around to see her approaching someone else—a tall guy standing behind him.

"Oppa, can I borrow your biochemistry notes?" Sera asked the tall guy, her tone warm and friendly.

"Sure," the guy, Sera's senior, Jin Sun Ho, replied with a casual smile. "But, Sera, I'm afraid you won't be able to read my handwriting. How about I help you with them in the library?"

Sera laughed lightly. "That sounds great, thanks!" The two walked out of the canteen together, chatting as they left.

Mingyu was still staring after them when Joo Hyuk returned, handing him an iced Americano. "Woah," Joo Hyuk said, watching the pair disappear through the door. "Looks like the med school god and goddess are finally hitting it off."

"What do you mean?" Mingyu asked, his voice unintentionally sharp.

Joo Hyuk raised an eyebrow. "Do you live under a rock? Jin Sun Ho is the med school's god—smart, handsome, and rich. And Sera? She's the goddess. Pretty, brilliant, and, well, rich. Everyone's been saying they'd make the perfect couple."

He sipped his drink, oblivious to the way Mingyu's grip tightened on his cup. Mingyu said nothing, his eyes lingering on the door where Sera and Jin Sun Ho had just left. 

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"Your handwriting isn't that bad, oppa," Sera said with a small smile as she diligently copied down the notes. Her pen moved swiftly across the page while Sun Ho leaned slightly closer, pointing out key terms and concepts.

Sun Ho chuckled softly, resting his chin in his hand as he watched her work. "Maybe you just have extraordinary deciphering skills," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Most people look at my notes and call them hieroglyphics.

Sera laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Well, I guess I have a knack for cracking your code," she replied, glancing up at him briefly before focusing back on the page.

"Or maybe you're just too kind to admit how terrible my handwriting actually is," Sun Ho quipped with a grin, tapping the edge of the notebook.

Sera shook her head, her lips curving into a soft smile. "No, really. It's not bad at all. And your explanations make everything so much clearer," she said earnestly, her brown eyes meeting his.

For a moment, Sun Ho's teasing demeanor softened. "Glad I can help," he said, his tone warm. "Not everyone would put up with my chicken scratch."

"Well, I'm not just anyone," Sera said with a playful shrug, her confidence shining through as she continued writing.

"How about a selfie?" Sun Ho asked suddenly, pulling out his phone with a playful grin.

Sera looked up from the notebook, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "In the library?" she whispered, stifling a giggle.

Sun Ho leaned in closer, angling the camera to fit both of them in the frame. "Relax," he said with a smirk. "No one's going to say a word to me." Without waiting for her response, he snapped the photo, capturing Sera mid-laugh.

"Sun Ho!" she scolded lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

He examined the picture with a satisfied nod. "Perfect. My followers are going to love this," he said as he began typing a caption.

"You're posting it?" Sera's eyes widened in mild disbelief.

"Of course," he replied, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I?"

Sera shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh as she returned to her notes. Moments later, Sun Ho's phone buzzed with likes and comments flooding in, his followers reacting to the unexpected post.

On the screen was the caption: "Study buddies" .

Chapter 4 : Drunk Mingyu

"Woah, check this out," Joohyuk said, grinning as he waved his phone in front of Mingyu after their last class of the day.

Mingyu glanced down at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he saw the Instagram photo of Sera and Sun Ho standing side by side, their smiles bright and carefree. A strange feeling twisted in his chest—something between envy and frustration—but he masked it with a shrug, trying not to let it show.

"Since when did you become so invested in other people's business, huh, Joohyuk?" Mingyu asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep his voice casual.

Joohyuk chuckled, unfazed by Mingyu's tone. "Oh, come on, man. You need a little gossip to survive the madness that is SNU," he said, tapping his phone's screen. "Everyone's talking about this picture. It's like the campus's new hottest trend."

Mingyu rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't have the time for that kind of stuff."

"Right, of course," Joohyuk replied, his grin widening. "You're too busy being the mysterious guy who doesn't care about anything except his grades." He nudged Mingyu playfully.

Mingyu shrugged again, trying to brush off the weird fluttering in his stomach. "Just don't get too wrapped up in it, alright? We've got our own lives to focus on."

"Sure, sure," Joohyuk replied with a wink. "But you know, it's always more fun to watch the drama unfold from the sidelines." 

Joohyuk leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Alright, enough of this. Come with me to the club and let loose for once."

Mingyu hesitated, glancing at his outfit. "Like this? My clothes are too plain, I need to change." He tried to muster an excuse, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

Joohyuk rolled his eyes, his expression turning playful but firm. "I'm not hearing any of that, man. I know you'll find a thousand reasons to back out and never show up. We're going, and we're going now."

Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, but Joohyuk was already dragging him toward the door, his grip surprisingly strong. "You're coming with me, no more excuses. Tonight's about fun, not studying."

Mingyu sighed but couldn't help the reluctant grin that crept across his face. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "But you owe me a drink for this."

Joohyuk flashed a victorious smile. "Deal." 

The neon lights of the club flickered around them as Mingyu and Joohyuk settled into their seats, the music pulsating through the air. Mingyu was already deep in his drinks, the bitter taste of alcohol doing little to numb the ache in his chest. He stared into his glass, his heart heavy, thoughts swirling around Sera and the distance between them that felt impossible to bridge.

Joohyuk, ever the party animal, raised his eyebrows as Mingyu downed another drink in one go. "Ayo, man, slow down," Joohyuk said, his voice slightly slurred. "We have class tomorrow. You're gonna regret this."

Mingyu looked at his friend, a wry smile twisting on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the point of this life if I can't be with her?" he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn't care that he was starting to sound like a mess—he was already too far gone.

Joohyuk blinked, suddenly aware of the shift in Mingyu's mood. "Oh, no, not here," he groaned, slapping his palm against the table. "I brought you here to have fun, not cry over some girl you can't get over. This night is supposed to be fun, man!"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. He tipped his head back, gulping down another drink, his emotions taking over in a drunken haze. "Is there any way to make her like me?" he slurred, his eyes glassy. "I can't stand seeing her with someone else... I just... I just want her to be mine."

Joohyuk let out a low whistle. "It's kinda hard to believe that you, with that handsome face of yours, can't get a girl," he teased, leaning back in his chair, his buzz starting to kick in.

Mingyu's face crumpled again, and Joohyuk frowned, his tone shifting to concern. "Who is she? The girl that's got you all twisted up like this?"

Mingyu's words came out in a jumbled mess, and soon enough, his eyes were glistening with tears, the alcohol fueling his emotions further. "You remember my best friend... the one who studies abroad?" he began, voice cracking. "She's his..."

Joohyuk froze for a moment, eyes wide as he processed the situation. "His girlfriend?" he asked in disbelief, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Bro, you gotta be kidding me. Out of all the girls in the world, you fall for your homie's girl?"

"NO, NO!" Mingyu shot back, waving his hand in a frantic motion as his emotions overtook him again. "She's not his girlfriend!" he repeated, his voice breaking.

Joohyuk blinked. "Then what's the problem, man? If she's not with him, what's stopping you?"

Mingyu's face crumpled in despair, his voice almost a whisper as he stumbled over the words. "She... she's his sister," he confessed, his drunken state making it feel even more tragic. He pulled Joohyuk into a tight hug, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I don't know what to do, man. I can't... I can't have her, but I can't stop wanting her."

Joohyuk sat there, stunned for a moment. He didn't know how to respond, his mind processing the ridiculousness of the situation. "Bro," he finally said, a slight chuckle escaping him. "You're... you're really in love with your best friend's sister? That's the problem?"

Mingyu sobbed a little more, the alcohol making everything feel more intense than it probably was. "I know, I know," he said, his voice muffled in Joohyuk's shoulder. "It's messed up. I just... I just can't stop thinking about her."

Joohyuk shook his head in disbelief. 

Joo Hyuk, with a mischievous grin, urged Mingyu to let loose and find some companionship for the night. He grabbed the alcohol glass from Mingyu's hand, downing the remaining contents in one swift motion. "Come on, forget everything and let's hit the dance floor," Joo Hyuk said, leading the way.

Mingyu followed, his mind still hazy from the alcohol. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the pulsating beat of the music consumed them. Mingyu felt the weight of his worries melt away with each step.

Before long, Joo Hyuk had already found a companion for the night, disappearing to the other side of the club with a sly wink. Mingyu, on the other hand, was approached by a stranger.

"Hey, aren't you Mingyu Sunbae from the engineering department?" the girl asked, her voice like a melody.

Mingyu looked at her and nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Seyeong from the medicine department," she introduced herself, flashing a bright smile.

Before Mingyu could respond, Seyeong had already moved closer, her body swaying in time with the music. She placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer until their chests were touching. Mingyu was taken aback, but the alcohol coursed through his veins, numbing his senses.

Seyeong's movements were fluid, like a dance. She pressed her cleavage against his chest, making it a full display of her assets. Mingyu's mind was consumed with thoughts of Sera. In his alcohol-infused haze, he couldn't help but think that Seyeong was Sera, sent to him as an answer to his prayers.

"Want to get a room?" Seyeong whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. 

Mingyu's vision swam in a hazy blur, the flashing lights of the club illuminating the space around him. His mind felt foggy, and the alcohol had wrapped him in a warm cocoon of numbness. But then, his eyes caught something—or rather, someone. At the entrance of the club, standing like a figure from a dream, was her.

"Sera?" Mingyu mumbled to himself, blinking rapidly as if doing so would somehow snap him out of his daze and make everything clearer. He squinted, the familiar silhouette in front of him. He stumbled back slightly, his voice slurring as he spoke louder than he intended. "TWO TWO SERA?"

The girl in front of him, who had been dancing with him just moments before, followed his gaze, confusion painting her face as she turned her head toward the entrance. She froze for a second, processing what he said, before her own realization hit her.

"Sera?" she echoed, her voice laced with disbelief as her eyes locked on the girl Mingyu was referring to.

Mingyu, still drunk and caught in the throes of his mixed-up emotions, looked between the two—Sera at the entrance and the Sera in his arms. "Wait... no way, how come there are two Seras," he muttered under his breath.

The music seemed to throb louder in his ears as he fumbled to make sense of the situation. Seyeong's expression shifted from confusion to mild irritation, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back from him.

"Did you seriously think I was Sera this whole time?" Seyeong's voice was sharp, tinged with disbelief. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face now set in an indignant frown. "What a jerk."

Before Mingyu could say another word, she pushed him lightly but firmly away from her, the force of the motion knocking him off balance for a moment.

Seyeong shook her head, her disappointment evident, and with a final glance at Mingyu, she turned and walked off into the crowd, leaving him standing there, still trying to piece everything together.

Chapter 4 : Confrontation

As the adrenaline faded away, he found himself seeking a way out, desperate to escape the turmoil of his thoughts.

"How long are you going to keep yourself away from me?" Sera's voice sliced through the noise, confident and unwavering. Mingyu, taken aback, feigned ignorance. "I don't understand what you're talking about," he responded, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Without hesitation, Sera moved closer, closing the space between them. Her hand reached for his, holding it firmly as if refusing to let him slip away. "You can drop the act now, oppa," she insisted. The tone in her voice was resolute, a stark contrast to Mingyu's hesitant demeanor.

"I heard it all," she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. His heart raced as she held onto his neck, standing on her tiptoes to bring her face near his. Her proximity was intoxicating, yet troubling.

"You are Jeonwoo's sister. I can't—" Mingyu tried to back away, but Sera was relentless. She cut him off, sealing her defiance with a kiss on his cheek, a playful yet poignant gesture that sent a thrill through him. Mingyu's heart sank and soared all at once as he finally met her gaze.

"Okay, then I will go to Sunho Oppa," she teased, her demeanor flipping from assertive to mischievous in an instant as she turned to walk away. The implication of her words hit Mingyu like a freight train. His grip instinctively tightened around her wrist, pulling her back to him.

"Please, Sera," he pleaded, his expression shifting to one that could only be described as puppy-like, eyes wide with a mix of desperation and longing. The playful banter began melting away, leaving behind the raw emotion that had bubbled just beneath the surface. 

"Then tell me," Sera said suddenly, her voice soft yet filled with an urgency that made Mingyu's heart race. In that moment, he felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Mingyu looked deeper into her eyes, a vibrant mix of curiosity and vulnerability reflecting back at him. It felt as if time had come to a standstill; the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of fleeting possibility. A sudden wave of courage surged through him, igniting a fire within that he had kept at bay for far too long. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was electric—a culmination of longing and love, a blending of dreams that had been waiting for this moment to manifest. Their lips brushed against each other with a tender urgency, savoring every fleeting second, as if trying to grasp a moment that could slip away at any instant. In that enchantment, everything else ceased to exist, and all they could feel was each other.

"I like you," Mingyu confessed, his breath mingling with hers in between kisses, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid feelings. The revelation hung in the air, both exhilarating and terrifying, yet it felt right.

Sera pulled back for just a moment, her eyes sparkling with surprise and delight. "We can continue at the hotel room," she said, a playful smile curling her lips.

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

The hotel room door creaked open, the sound amplifying the electric atmosphere that buzzed between Mingyu and Sera. As they crossed the threshold, their lips met in a fervent kiss that seemed to encapsulate the world outside—one that held no constraints or responsibilities. Nothing else existed in that moment but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace.

With a swift kick, Mingyu nudged the door shut, intent on carving out a little world where only they mattered. He traced Sera's delicate figure with admiration, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. The nearby table became their temporary sanctuary as he gently set her down, still locked in a passionate kiss. "You are too short; my neck hurts," he murmured playfully, yet his eyes spoke of hunger, desire.

Sera, feeling emboldened, wrapped her legs around his waist, a teasing move that brought their bodies even closer. The heat between them ignited as Mingyu's hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal his toned physique. To him, she was petite and enchanting, every curve inviting exploration.

Their lips collided once more, becoming lost in the rhythm of soft sighs and heated breaths. Mingyu's hands, skilled yet gentle, began to undress Sera, each layer he shed revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her form. As he unclasped her bra, he feasted his eyes on her plump breasts, a sight that made his heart race with insatiable desire.

Mingyu leaned down, his mouth enveloping her soft skin, a rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he lavished her with attention. His hands wandered, finding their way to her clit through her clothing, caressing her softly. Sera responded with soft moans, a sound he felt in the depths of his being, urging him on.

As passion thickened the air, Mingyu's urgency grew. He quickly shed his pants and retrieved a condom from the drawer, his determination evident. Positioning himself at her entrance, he locked eyes with her, seeking her silent permission as he began to enter her slowly, their lips brushing together in a tumultuous dance.

With each thrust, a primal intensity enveloped them both. Moments turned to a haze of sweat and ecstasy—Mingyu transformed, becoming both lover and beast, a force of nature that left Sera breathless beneath him. "Ah, fuck," she gasped, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

As they reached the precipice of their desires, Mingyu shifted her position, bending her over the table. Sera felt the cool surface against her skin, a stark contrast to the fervent heat igniting in her core. "Sera-ah," he moaned, hands gripping her waist, driving deeper with each rhythm.

Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony, the tempo rising as their breaths grew heavier. Mingyu sensed the climax approaching, a rush of exhilaration. With one final thrust, he pulled out, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he released onto her skin. At that moment, time seemed to suspend—their eyes met, and Sera's gaze sparkled with an innocent allure as she too reached her peak, a beautiful symphony shared between them. 

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

As the steam from the bathroom lingered in the air, Mingyu stepped out of the shower, water droplets cascading down his toned frame. The casual, effortless nature of his appearance was endearing, yet it evoked an unexpected shyness in him.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, a playful edge to his voice, as he caught Sera's gaze from across the room.

Wiping her hair with a towel, Sera chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whoa, look at you getting shy after all this," she teased. 

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

Two weeks had flown by since that steamy night in the hotel room. And in the aftermath of their passionate escapade, Sera had become a frequent visitor to Mingyu's room. With Joo Hyuk often occupied with his part time job, the two had explored the thrilling dynamics of secrecy, indulging in their hidden desires whenever the opportunity arose. Each rendezvous was charged with excitement—a dance of passion that ignited every corner of Mingyu's otherwise mundane days.

Today, however, was different. Mingyu was on a mission to pick up his best friend, Wonwoo, from the airport.

As he arrived at the bustling airport, he spotted Wonwoo making his way through the terminal.

"Brother!" Mingyu called out, his face lighting up in a broad smile as they both rushed to embrace each other. It felt good, the familiar warmth of friendship rekindled after a few months apart. "Missed ya," Mingyu said, clapping Wonwoo on the back before helping him with his luggage.

"Why did you only call me to pick you up?" Mingyu probed as they loaded the bags into the car's trunk, genuinely curious about his friend's whirlwind life abroad.

"Mom and Dad's 30th anniversary is coming up, and I want to give them a surprise," Wonwoo replied, excitement bubbling over in his voice. It was classic Wonwoo—thoughtful and family-oriented, proud of planning something truly special.

Once settled into the Uber, the chaotic energy of the ride kicked in. Wonwoo dove into a barrage of stories about living abroad—the food, the people, the experiences—but amidst the laughter and reminiscing, he posed an unexpected question that made Mingyu's heart race for an entirely different reason.

"Ah, by the way, do you know which jerk is dating my sister?" Wonwoo asked, casually leaning back in his seat. The smoothness of his nonchalant tone did not betray the depth of the question.

Mingyu felt the color drain from his face. Coughing splutteringly, he quickly grabbed the water bottle beside him to take a sip—a feeble attempt to mask his reaction.

"Like, two weeks ago, I saw my credit card was used to bill at a hotel—the same card I had given to my sister," Wonwoo continued, his voice laced with incredulity. Mingyu's heart raced again. If only he knew...

"You know it would've been better if you were dating my sister, can't trust her with the jerks nowadays", Wonwoo casually said.

The neurological pathways of panic ignited as Mingyu choked once more on his drink, causing a cascade of water to spill across the upholstery of the Uber. The driver shot a frustrated look through the rearview mirror, and Mingyu hastily apologized while trying to wipe away the mess with his sleeve.

[silaslich]

The remorse you can’t hide

Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Wc- 2.8k

Summary - you’re injured while on duty, Ghost stitches you up- he’s softer than he looks.

Cw- blood+injury

Pain sears through every nerve ending.

A burning white agony blinding you, shooting up your spine as you collide with the concrete.

You sit and clutch at yourself, the pain is everywhere, you search for blood- for any sign of injury.

Your palms clap against the concrete as you move to push yourself up, there’s an urge to run as far as you can from here, but your legs give way beneath you. It burns, hurts like nothing ever has before, and then your eyes land on the blooming crimson that leaks through a hole in your jeans- through a hole in your thigh. You press your hand to the wound quickly, blood seeping through the seams of your fingers as your eyes search the area, you’re wide open to attack and there’s no escape.

It takes more effort then you’ll ever be willing to admit, but you shuffle yourself backwards, crying in pain as you drag your bloodied leg with you, it’s through clenched teeth that you scream- it all hurts too much. You apply both of your hands to the wound now, the blood flows quickly, you’re losing too much of it- and it’s when theres the sound of boots hitting the ground beside you that you accept your fate.

Only- the end doesn’t come, instead opposing gunfire rings out, deafening you from how close it all is.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for any impact, any stray bullets that lodge themselves into your skin and flesh. In turn you hold your breath, as if it’ll filter out the sounds of warfare, the sounds of bloodcurdling cries and the raining of bullet shells. You want to shrink away, to disappear into the rubble and stone, swallowed into the depths of the broken city until you sink to its foundations.

It’s instinct the way you lash out at foreign contact. Years of wading through decimated towns riddled with ghosts and levelled cities that still don’t sleep doesn’t serve a person to grow complacent; it’s life and death, even now. Fighting for a cause, supposedly there to help, still watching over your shoulder for the knife that looms close.

You watch as you smear your blood down his chest, palms pushed against him to keep him at bay- Ghost doesn’t flinch.

“Calm down” his voice cracks through you, a sobering tone that has you snapping your gaze to meet his.

He’s pulling you up, tugging at you so you’re forced to a shaky stand. It’s not a cognitive thought when you cling to him, injured leg giving way beneath you, he snaps his neck down and watches as the blood oozes from the bullet wound in your thigh.

“Shit” he spits, quick eyes searching for an exit opportunity.

“Come on” his voice doesn’t soften, there’s a haste in his voice that tells you they’re not sticking around for this fight.

Ghost takes your arm and loops it over his shoulder, taking the majority if not all of your weight, keeping you propped up. His other arm clutches around your waist, rooting you to his side, flushed tight as he begins to move. You cry out, the pain too great, it’s blinding, it feels like your leg is being burned where you stand- branded with hot iron.

He doesn’t slow, the torrent of bullets doesn’t either, he moves efficiently through the rubble and chaos of the crumbling city. It’s nothing but a shell now, a phantom of what it once was, there is no viable life left here now.

—————————————————————————

The clock sitting atop the desk strikes on the hour and you sit idly, perched on an examination table as you pick at the dried blood that’s caked to your hands and stuck under your fingernails- you hadn’t had a chance to wash it off yet.

It takes your mind off the wound in your leg, stuffed with gauze and hastily taped together to stop it worsening. It’s been barely an hour since you arrived back at camp, the mood is low and the morale is even more so, it’s deafening. As if the air has been sucked out of the surrounding atmosphere, every tent and outpost draped in a blanket of solemn defeat. Everything had been so blurry, so quick, it took all of you by surprise, and despite the odds- coming away with little more then a hole in your leg seems good enough.

You hear footsteps, they’re too distinctive to miss, big fella like him makes it known around camp, there’s no need for his stealth here. You try to keep yourself level, the injury is nothing, it hurts more seeing how close of a call this was. How truly unprepared you had been, and so ready to give up, it’s shameful, you think.

Simon’s hand draws back the flap of the tent, not Ghost, Simon. He seems so at ease given the losses he’s suffered in the short span of a few hours, you remind yourself that this isn’t new to him, neither you- but they’re not your soldiers. They’re his.

He steps into the medical tent, taking up the majority of the free space, wide shoulders and long legs that carry him into battle, you think he would have been a Viking in another life. Tall and wide and unmoving. Unyielding in his faith and beliefs.

The outer layer of his gear is gone, you dare say he’s casual, the only visible weapon you see is the gun strapped to his thigh, key word- visible.

“Everythin’ okay?” He asks, smoothly, stepping over to the desk sitting to the left of the tent entrance.

He glances at you briefly, pulling two disposable gloves from their box and fixing them onto his hands, flexing his fingers before he moves closer to you.

You could lie to him, bark out a yes sir and move on, but you know better than that. He sees right through you, like he does with most people, he’s much too sharp to be fooled by such bullshit. You smile, faintly.

“Been better, sir” you say quickly, fiddling with your fingers.

He nods, loading up a metal tray with supplies from a small cabinet beside the exam table.

“If I had a pound for every soldier that said that today, I’d have about three quid by now” he huffs, something that could be a laugh if you listened closely enough.

You blow air through your nose, nearly a laugh.

“Gaz and Soap, sir?” You ask, eyes watching Simon’s hands move.

“You know it” he answers, smiling, you think- it sounds that way.

This is comfortable. As much as it can be. Simon is definitely one of the few superiors you’ve had since joining up that actually gives a shit, he sees you as a real person. Something solid, tangible, with thoughts and likes and memories. He asks about food preferences and he pretends to understand a love for certain holidays, he rates music tastes and has inside jokes with near enough everyone in his platoon.

He’s kinder then he knows, than he’ll ever admit, being here like this- now, he can’t pretend that he’s obligated to do this.

He’d told you to wait for him in the medical tent, when you arrived back from that shit-show of an ambush, a stern hand between your shoulder blades guiding you in that direction.

“Wait for me, won’t be long” his voice was tired, but truly? You thought he might even be gentle, not that he thought you needed that - but because he’s capable.

You had limped away, following orders, peeling away your blood soaked jeans and sitting yourself on the table - feeling sorry for yourself. Staring at the wound, he’d packed and taped it on the transport, stemmed the blood until he could tend to it properly.

You’d pursed your lips, tracing your fingers over the tape covering the bullet wound, thinking about him. You turn him over in your mind more often than you should, he’s just so- strange. You can’t tell exactly what it is, and that’s the frustrating part, he gives nothing away and yet gives so much freely. Trivial bits and pieces of things that don’t seem as though they fit together; he likes traditional pub food and he listens to 80s rock, he prefers dogs to cats and he doesn’t care much for hot weather- ironic.

It’s nothing, small crumbs that he probably thinks mean nothing, but those things make him human. They personify him in a way he actively tries to avoid, his past and memories are nil, locked away and buried deep. Yet, he still gives a shit, he still cares enough to ask how his soldiers feel and wants to know what they’re looking forward to when they get home. He’s a good man.

No matter how much he’ll tell you he isn’t.

Simon gives it about ten seconds before he mutters under his breath and pulls the chair out from under the desk and props it in front of you, slumping down into it to continue his work. Crouching awkwardly due to his size was giving him a crick in his neck.

He sterilises the wound after removing the tape and gauze, you almost bite through your tongue with the sting, but it’s bearable.

“Alrate?” He queries, stilling when you suck in air through your teeth, you nod quickly.

“Just a bit sore, Lt”. He stares at you for a second too long before he nods, moving to thread up his needle.

Just when you think you’re nearing the finish line, he clears his throat.

“So, what happened out there?” He’s bordering that line of wether or not this is a question your obligated to answer or not, you want to tell him nothing, everything is fine and dandy, but you know he won’t buy it.

You sigh, bringing up your hand to cup the back of your neck.

“Honestly?” You ask, he might shrug and tell you he’s just trying to make conversation, he doesn’t - he nods curtly. You wet your lips with your tongue.

“Everything just went a bit- blank for a second” you wince when he begins setting the stitches, it’s a deep pinch that makes your stomach dip lowly, he doesn’t stop, he listens closely.

You can tell by the hardness in his eyes, he’s concentrating on your words as he works, you continue.

“Never had that happen before, feel like I blinked and then I’m on the floor in a pool of blood with a hole in my leg” you smile sheepishly and you nod toward said wound, Simon nods along. He thinks for a second.

“You need a break?” He asks, genuinely, his hands stop and he meets your eyes.

It catches you off guard, such a simple solution to a meaningless problem. You tilt your head.

“Like- taking home leave?” He simply nods, as if it’s just that easy, while the thought is nice, you can’t just leave them all here like this - not off the back of what’s just happened. You shake your head.

“It’s all good sir, think I’d go mad sitting at home knowing you’re all still stuck in this shit-hole” you laugh, drily. He huffs again, that almost laugh.

“Got to look after your head, you only get one” he reaches up with a free hand, pressing his index and middle finger against your temple. “No shame in taking some time out, y’know” he insists, letting his fingers linger for another second before moving them away, the skin is cold now. He returns to your wound, finishing off the stitches, “wouldn’t think any less of you for it” he flicks his eyes to yours.

He’s so expressive for someone that covers his face, the way his eyes and brows tell so much without seeing the rest of him. They give him away, in moments like this when you’re so close to him, so close you can see your reflection in the soft walnut-brown of his irises. You smile, meekly.

“I know” you say, nodding your head in understanding.

It’s quiet for a few moments, he cleans down the wound site and disposes of his tools, taking a final once over of his work with a long drawn out glance. You feel brave, in this setting with him, it seems safe.

“Do you ever take any time out, sir?” You ask, genuinely curious, he meets your eyes. Simon shakes his head.

“No need to” he shrugs, “and you can drop the sir thing, we’re off duty” you think you see the lines on his forehead soften through the mask. You smirk.

“Thought we were never off duty?” Catching him out, as per usual, his laugh is an actual laugh this time.

“Watch your mouth, yeah?” He closes his eyes when he shakes his head, “anyone might think you’ve actually been listening to me this entire deployment”. You smile.

“Don’t listen to a word that comes from under that mask” the mask is a subject that gets poked at him day in and day out, it’s a harmless jab nowadays. He challenges you.

“That so?” He asks and you nod quickly.

“Yep, doesn’t mean a thing unless I can read your lips clearly” you flash your teeth at him and he just keeps shaking his head.

“You up for a smoke?” He backs off, standing up to replace the chair back to its rightful place, but he still lingers close. You consider him for all of a split second.

“Why not, might take my mind of this fuckin’ leg” you gingerly set yourself down from the table, leaning against it for some extra stability.

Wordlessly, he offers you the crook of his elbow, but he can’t meet your eye.

Time passes and the two of you shuffle across the camp to an area of undergrowth and dense forest, a clear tree line that peers down the ridge you’re all holed-up on.

There’s a damp log that the two of you perch on, Simon offers you a cigarette and even lights it for you, thanking him with a nod you take a heavy drag, and it’s just as good as you were hoping. You watch him light his own cigarette through your peripherals, rolling up the mask with his thumb and cupping his hand around his smoke before he lights it.

In the dim light you can see the line of his jaw, you can see the way his lips wrap around the cigarette and the shadow of stubble on his skin. You don’t realise how much you’re looking until you’re caught out.

“I need a shave or somethin’?” his gruff tone cuts through the tranquil silence.

“Sorry” you say, kicking yourself mentally as you take drag after heavy drag of your cigarette. When you spare another quick glance, he’s smirking to himself.

“It’s not that big of a deal” he says, catching your eyes. You frown and he continues, “a face is just a face” he shrugs, “you see em’ all the time”.

He’s not wrong, but it’s not his face, it’s the inquisitiveness, the images you’ve conjured in your mind of what he might look like. Fitting jigsaws pieces around the molasses colour of his eyes and the deep scar that cuts through one brow, wondering what features fit where.

“Can’t blame me for being curious” you shrug, you’re being open, this seems content enough. He quirks his lips.

“I suppose” he finishes his cigarette, immediately fishing out another one.

Silence falls, and you can’t say it’s uncomfortable, it’s a nice change. Not just from today but from the usual barrage of noise and commotion - good and bad.

You finish your own cigarette, feeling too greedy to ask for another, wordlessly Simon offers you a drag on his own. It must be his last one, it must be. It’s nice like this, listening to the buzz of cicadas and the fluid breeze that blows through the trees, this is the only break you need.

It’s unclear where the line blurs, the nicotine thickening your blood to soup, the way your eyes droop and you shoulders sag. You’re tucked close to Simon’s side, and he doesn’t push you away, it’s comfortable.

He nudges you slightly, squeezes his hand over your thigh, the non-injured one. You stiffen, maybe you’ve overstepped, fallen a little too easily into the waiting arms of a man that is here to serve as a point of contact - tactical not literal.

“You mean what you said about the lip reading?” He asks, eyes watching the trees, you tilt your head as you try to think.

“What are you on about?” You ask, genuinely more than confused, he still hasn’t moved his hand from your thigh.

[rose24207]

Interrupted Stream

Summary: Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.

TW: None!

Genre: fluff, humor

A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando was in the middle of an intense game, his eyes glued to the screen. His chat was alive with their usual chaotic energy, commenting on everything from his questionable aim to his random screams whenever he got ambushed.

“Alright, chat,” he muttered, leaning closer to his mic. “This is it. Big brain plays only. I’m clutching this—wait, WHAT?!”

A sniper shot from across the map ended his game, and he threw his hands up in disbelief. “That’s so unfair! How did he even see me?”

The chat erupted with laughter:

“Lan, you’re blind.”

“Bro, he was RIGHT THERE.”

“Classic Lando meltdown.”

He sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Chat, you’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to support me. Where’s the loyalty?”

As he rambled on, the door to his office opened, and you walked in holding a mug. “Lando, do you—oh. Are you live?”

He spun around in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. “I am, indeed, live. And now so are you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at the camera. “Oh no,” you said, setting the mug on his desk. “This is why I avoid this room when you’re streaming.”

The chat immediately exploded:

“Y/N REVEAL!”

“WE’VE BEEN BLESSED!”

“OH SHE’S HERE!”

Lando leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. “Chat, look who decided to join us. Everyone say hi to my very lovely girlfriend.”

“Hi, chat,” you said reluctantly, waving. Then you turned to Lando with a suspicious look. “Wait. Why do you look so smug? What did I walk into?”

“I was just showing chat how amazing I am at this game,” he said innocently, gesturing at the screen.

You raised an eyebrow. “Amazing? Didn’t I just hear you screaming about getting sniped?”

The chat went wild again:

“SHE KNOWS!”

“Y/N CALLS HIM OUT!”

“WE LOVE HER ALREADY.”

Lando groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Why are you always on their side?”

“Because they’re right,” you teased, sitting on the arm of his chair. “Let me guess. You ran straight into the open without looking, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me,” he said, pointing at you. “I’m a tactical genius. They just got lucky.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, babe. Tactical genius. That’s why you once threw a grenade at your own teammate.”

The chat was losing it:

“EXPOSED.”

“LAN, SHE’S TOO GOOD.”

“PLEASE LET HER STREAM INSTEAD.”

Lando groaned, covering his face. “This is cyberbullying. From my own girlfriend.”

“Call it tough love,” you said, smirking. “Besides, you’re the one who left your socks on the kitchen counter this morning, so you deserve it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Lando exclaimed, his cheeks turning red as he glanced at the camera.

“Everything,” you said, standing up. “Alright, I’ll leave you and chat to... whatever this is. Try not to embarrass yourself too much, yeah?”

Lando turned to the camera with a dramatic pout. “Chat, she’s so mean to me. Don’t you feel bad for me?”

The responses were immediate:

“NOPE.”

“WE STAN Y/N.”

“JUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE, LAN.”

Before you could leave, Lando grabbed your hand. “Wait, wait! Before you go, answer one thing.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What?”

He turned back to the chat with a grin. “Alright, chat, here’s the question: Who’s better at Mario Kart—me or Y/N?”

You snorted. “Oh, that’s not even a question. I destroy you every time.”

The chat erupted again:

“Y/N SUPREMACY.”

“GET HER ON STREAM!”

“LAN IS FINISHED.”

Lando shook his head, laughing. “Unbelievable. I’m outnumbered in my own stream. You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“I am,” you said with a smile. “But only when you’re actually good at something.”

The mock gasp Lando let out was so over-the-top that you couldn’t help but laugh. You kissed the top of his head. “Good luck, babe. Don’t lose again.”

As you walked out, Lando turned back to the camera, shaking his head. “Chat, this is my life. Constantly roasted, no support, but hey... I think I kinda like it.”

The chat spammed hearts and laughing emojis as Lando launched into his next game, grinning from ear to ear.

Thank your for reading!

[santaasi]

story of my life

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: what are you willing to do for the love of your life?

warnings: !major spoiler for obx4 final!, angst, establish relationship, nearly death experience, no use of y/n, english isn't my first language

word count: 2.8k

a/n: requested by this ask. i still haven't found the strength to watch s4, but i like to write about it. you know, after all this emotionally difficult month, all your requests help me not to go crazy. so thank you very much.

ᯓ★ now playing...

one direction - story of my life

YOU HAD ALWAYS LOVED LIFE. Even through all the chaos and heartbreak, you clung to it with fierce devotion, treasuring every moment. Your greatest dream wasn’t wealth or fame — it was to live boldly, to see the world in vivid color, to grow old with stories of wild adventures alongside the Pogues, the family you had found and held so dear. They were your anchor, your everything.

But life, for all its beauty, has taught you a bitter truth: it isn’t always fair. More often than not, it is harsh and unrelenting, a storm that leaves you scrambling for shelter. You’d learned to accept that, to carry on, to find joy even in the darkest corners. And you did, always.

What you never prepared for — what you could never imagine — was just how cruel it could truly be.

You weren’t ready for the knife. You weren’t ready for the split-second decision, the instinct that drove you to shield him, to put yourself in harm’s way without hesitation. All you cared about at that moment was that JJ would be safe. And he was.

But you?

No amount of planning or foresight could have prepared you for this — the searing pain, the hot Moroccan sand beneath you, and the endless blue sky above, eerily reminiscent of home. You’d spent your life navigating every twist and turn, surviving every trial fate threw at you, but now your strength ebbed away with every heartbeat.

Life really was cruel.

You and the Pogues had always known that, enduring its relentless trials together, earning your scars the hard way. But this? This was different. This was a cruelty you’d never known — a cruelty you couldn’t accept.

It wasn’t the dying that broke you, even though your dream of growing old with stories to tell burned brightly in your chest until the very end. Death itself wasn’t what hurt most. You had danced with it so many times before, always escaping, always one step ahead.

No, what shattered you was the sight of JJ Maybank, the boy who had stolen your heart and become your everything, cradling you as life slipped through your fingers. His tears fell like rain, his voice hoarse from screaming for help that wouldn’t come. His hands trembled, desperately trying to hold you together, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to defy the inevitable.

That was the real cruelty. Watching his world break as yours faded.

But now, as you stared up at the endless blue sky, its hue so much like his eyes and the tranquil ocean, it didn’t seem so cruel after all. Dying to save the person you loved most — it wasn’t a punishment. It was a gift, wasn’t it? To offer your life for the one who taught you how to love — that was a blessing.

A soft smile touched your lips as you reached out a trembling hand to his face, your fingers brushing his cheek, catching the tears that fell like rivers. His pain was unbearable to witness, but the warmth of his skin under your touch grounded you, even as the world slipped further away.

“Jay,” you whispered, your voice thin and fractured, each word scraped from a well of pain you refused to show him. You had always been strong — for the Pogues, for him. You couldn’t stop now. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He froze, his frantic movements stilling for a moment as your words cut through his panic. You swallowed hard, pushing down the agony clawing at your chest, determined to ease the fear in his eyes, if only a little.

“The luck had to run out eventually,” you continued, a faint chuckle escaping despite the weight crushing your lungs. “And, honestly? Dying in the arms of my first and only love… That’s pretty romantic, don’t you think? I’m like the main character in one of those cheesy teen dramas you hate so much.”

The effort of your laugh sent a sharp jolt of pain through your body, pulling a wet cough from your lips. The metallic tang of blood filled your mouth, and your chest burned with the force of it. You tried to hide it, but JJ saw — of course, he saw.

His face crumpled, and the desperation in his voice pierced through you like the knife had. “No. No. No. You’re not dying. I won’t let you die.”

His hands trembled as he held you, his grip firm yet unbearably gentle, as if afraid you’d slip away entirely if he let go. He rocked you slightly, his movements uneven and frantic, his voice cracking as he screamed for help, calling out for the others, begging the universe to give him just one more miracle.

“You can’t leave me,” he choked out, his words tumbling over one another in a broken, frantic rush. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, you hear me? I’ll pester you until you’re old and gray. Forever. That’s the deal, remember?”

His words wavered, drenched in panic and pain, as if sheer determination alone could defy the inevitable. You wanted to tell him it was okay, that he’d be okay, that you didn’t regret a single thing. But the truth was, seeing him like this — the boy who was your whole world shattered and breaking — hurt more than the knife ever could.

 A soft, broken laugh escaped your lips, each tremor in your chest sending ripples of pain through your body. Breathing felt like trying to hold onto smoke — fleeting and agonizing. Why did it have to hurt so much? You drew a shallow, shaky breath, your hand brushing over JJ’s tear-streaked cheek. He clung to you like you were the only solid thing left in his crumbling world, his eyes squeezed shut, his face twisted with anguish.  

Even now, even like this, he was beautiful. It wasn’t fair.  

You’d thought it a hundred times before, over the years spent by his side. No matter the situation, no matter how disheveled or broken, JJ Maybank always carried a beauty that was effortless and infuriating. He was a contradiction — a masterpiece painted in chaos — and you could never look at him without being reminded of how deeply, unfairly he had your heart.  

You had seen him in every state imaginable: bloodied and bruised, grinning through the pain, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, or asleep under the stars with his face softened by peace he rarely found. Even in his worst moments, when life dragged him down to its cruelest depths, he was breathtaking. You used to joke that Aphrodite herself must have crafted him, a cruel trick of divine perfection meant to mock you.  

But it wasn’t a joke now, lying here in his arms. Because you knew you’d never see the life you’d imagined with him.  

You’d thought about it more times than you could admit: the way his children would carry his same irresistible charm, the way his hair might gray but his smile would never lose its boyish mischief, the way you’d both grow old together, teasing and bickering like you always did. But none of that would happen now.  

You wouldn’t be there to see it.  

You wouldn’t see the Pogues again, wouldn’t see John B and Sarah raising a family, wouldn’t wake up in JJ’s arms to greet the sunrise and talk about life like it was endless. All those dreams, those plans — they were dissolving, fading into the hot Moroccan sand beneath you, slipping from your grasp like water through trembling fingers.  

But at least you’d die saving him.  

JJ’s voice cracked, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. “We should have stayed... I should have listened to you... I...” He repeated the words in a frantic, looping mantra, his tone raw with regret, his breath hitching as though saying it enough times could rewrite the moment. As though this were some nightmare he could will himself to wake from.  

And maybe it would have been a dream — a bad one — if they’d all just listened to you. If they hadn’t chased after the crown, if they’d let greed and desperation go. Maybe you’d be lying in the chateau right now, the sunlight warming your skin, talking about tomorrow with hope instead of fear.  

But life didn’t work like that.  

You knew this outcome was inevitable. You’d known something was off, a shadow lurking on the edge of this adventure. You’d felt it in your bones. But even so, you couldn’t walk away. You couldn’t leave your family behind.  

Because they wouldn’t have made it without you.  

You were the glue that held them together, the one who kept the chaos from consuming them all. You cooked when they forgot to eat, bandaged wounds when they refused to stop, made plans when they leapt without looking. You were the mother, the voice of reason, the protector. You carried their burdens as if they were your own, no matter how heavy they became.  

And you’d never leave them in trouble. Even if it meant leaving the world behind. 

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault,” you murmured, your voice trembling but steady enough to cut through his despair. With a shaky hand, you wiped the tears from his face, your fingers brushing against the salt trails on his skin. “I couldn’t leave you. I couldn’t... leave you alone.”

“But that’s what you’re doing now!” JJ cried, his voice cracking like a child’s. A loud, broken sob tore from his lips as he pulled you closer, holding you as if sheer force could tether you to him. The raw pain in his eyes shattered you more than the knife ever could. “You’re leaving me! It should’ve been me! Why— why did you take it all on yourself?”

“JJ...” you whispered, your fingers threading weakly through his hair, softer than you’d ever imagined. The sunlight kissed the golden strands, turning him into something otherworldly — a fragile angel, aching and broken. Your vision blurred, the world dissolving into a haze, but you clung to him, fighting to stay present. For him.

“I did it because you have to live,” you said softly, your voice cracking under the weight of your words. “Because you deserve to live. You deserve a happy ending.”

Your breath hitched, and a cough wracked your body, leaving a metallic tang on your lips. A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of your mouth, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on him. On the boy you loved more than life itself.

“You deserve a happy life more than anyone, JJ,” you continued, the words fragile but unyielding. “You have to go on your adventures, see the world, make your dreams come true... I...” You paused, gathering the last fragments of your strength. “At home, under my bed, there’s a box. It has the money left from El Dorado...”

A faint, bittersweet smile touched your lips as the truth of it all washed over you like the tide. Every decision, every moment over the last few months had led to this. Saving that money, denying yourself fleeting indulgences — it had all been for this. Deep down, maybe you’d known. Maybe you’d felt it all along, the shadow of inevitability hanging over you.

From the very beginning, when the crown became a glimmering temptation, you’d sensed it. Something about it felt wrong, like a weight in your chest that wouldn’t ease. You hadn’t wanted to go — you’d begged them to stay, to stop chasing after danger and live, just live. But they wouldn’t have listened, not even to you.

And so you’d gone. Because they needed you.

The irony struck you now, sharp and bitter, and you almost laughed. All you’d wanted was a simple life — a reprieve from the constant running, the relentless searching, the near brushes with death. You’d only wanted one quiet moment to breathe.

But life had never let you stop.

“Take the money,” you whispered, your voice thin but insistent. “Leave. Start over. Find your happiness, JJ. Live... for me.”

Your fingers lingered on his cheek, memorizing the warmth of him, the boy who had been your whole world. The tears falling from his eyes pooled at the edges of your smile.

Even as the edges of the world began to fade, you clung to one truth: you would give everything for him. And you had.

“Don’t you dare do that,” JJ choked out, shaking his head as if denying the reality before him could rewrite it. His trembling hand brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, the tenderness in his touch breaking your heart anew. “Don’t you dare say goodbye,” he sobbed, pressing a desperate kiss to your head. His arms rocked you gently, cradling you as though the rhythm alone could anchor you to him. “We’ll do it all together, you hear me? We’ll start over. We’ll visit every corner of this damn world. We’ll grow old together... I won’t — I can’t let you leave me like this.”

You tried to answer, but your body betrayed you. It was slipping further out of your control, growing lighter, weightless, like a feather carried off by the wind. Still, you smiled — soft, faint, but filled with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the pull of oblivion so strong, but you forced them open again. Over and over, you fought against it, clinging to the fragile thread of life. Not for yourself — for him. For the dreams you had spun together in quiet moments, the ones you had whispered into the dark when the world felt too heavy.

You thought of those dreams now, pulling them close like a lifeline.

You’d planned it all, written it down in the little diary you kept hidden away since you were a child. Its pages were filled with messy sketches of hearts and scrawled dreams, and in so many of them was his name — your best friend, your everything. Back then, you were too shy to confess your feelings, too scared of what losing him might mean. But that little girl, the one who poured her heart onto those pages, would be over the moon now. She’d never believe JJ Maybank had become hers.

How many times had you imagined the life you’d build together? Leaving Kildare behind, hand in hand, to find new adventures in the wide, open world. Finding that perfect spot by the sea — a place that felt like home. Slowly, brick by brick, you’d build a new life together, one where all the scars and broken pieces of your pasts didn’t matter anymore.

You could almost see it. The day JJ would propose.

He’d plan it for weeks, determined to make it perfect, pouring over every cliché from the romantic comedies you adored. He’d rehearse speeches in secret, dragging John B and Pope into his schemes, pestering them to help him nail every detail. And yet, on the day itself, when he finally saw you, everything he’d practiced would vanish.

He’d forget the rehearsed words, the plans, everything but you.

JJ would drop to one knee, his hands shaking as he pulled out a small, worn ring — the one he’d kept hidden for years, a precious piece of his mother’s legacy. He’d hold it out to you, his voice cracking as he whispered the only words that mattered: Be mine. Forever.

And you would be. You’d take his hand, slip on that ring, and promise him everything. You’d become the happiest girl in the world, every piece of your soul woven into his.

Forever.

But now, forever felt impossibly far away.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of a lifetime. Your gaze lingered on his sea-blue eyes, anchoring yourself in their depth, memorizing every detail — the way they shimmered like sunlight on water, the way they always felt like home.

“You’ve become my dream.”

The words left your lips like a prayer, soft and eternal. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy with the pull of exhaustion, and slowly, they closed. Darkness crept in, warm and quiet, wrapping around you like JJ’s arms — steady, protective, safe. If this was death, it wasn’t cruel. It was peace. And if this was how it felt to go, you thought, then you would gladly endure it a thousand times over just to feel him near.

But as the silence deepened and the void seemed to pull you further away, a voice rose above it — a sound so strong, so certain, it cut through the emptiness like a lifeline.

“I won’t leave you. Never.”

His voice was raw, desperate, but unshakably firm, as if willing the universe to bend to his promise.

And you believed him.

You fell, your body surrendering to the weightlessness, but the thought of him grounded you. You held on to his words, letting them guide you like a beacon through the dark.

Even as the void swallowed you whole, there was a certainty buried deep within your heart.

When you opened your eyes again, you knew he would be there.

thankx for reading <3

I love one direction. I love jj maybank. and I love this fic. but I don't like killing characters. I can't write about death after Liam and JJ's death, it's very hard for me, so I decided to leave the ending kinda open? for me, the reader is still alive, but if you like dramatic endings, then you can end the story on the death of the reader.

and as usual, you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

                                    – your santi 🪐

masterlist

[ramblingautisticman]

(Okay, for some reason, the repost where I was talking about this just...disapeard?? So here I go. Again. I'm just going to post it as a separate thing.)

(Also, Warning, talking about child hood cancer, experimentation and torture, and the other general dark Logan or Wade things.)

Okay! So- obviously, with the timeline, it wouldn't work- but I can just change that because why not?

Imagine Wade being diagnosed with cancer at 8. He has chemo and some surgeries, then for a good 2 years he is cancer free. Of course, though, it comes back at around 11. There isn't anything they can do this time, though. The surgeries won't work, and chemo will only prolong the inevitable, so Wade has to accept his fate. His parents get approached by someone who promises to cure Wade, though. All they need to do is sign over their legal rights in regards to him, so that's what they do. Sure, they cured him, but only after years of being tortured and experimented on. Wade thinks his parents didn't know at the beginning, but after the first few months, he started to question if they knew what this place was. His parents had never been kind people, and Wade quickly decided his parents probably didn't care what happened when they signed that waver. He survives, though. He gets his mutation, and eventually, the X-Men manages to find the facility that has been doing this. He's glad all of the other kids have been saved and most of them reunited with their parents- he had looked after half of them in that hell hole so he feels responsible for making sure they are all save wherever they go- and he goes back to the school with the other kids who don't have a home to go back to or just don't want to go back home. It's weird to be a whole 17 years of age and not knowing how to function in the world. He knows how to survive, but that's about it. So, it's a struggle to settle into the mansion at first, but he quickly takes on the role of bigger brother to the younger kids. And yeah, he finds it hard to interact with the people his own age, too terrified to deal with the possible riddicule of how he looks.

Logan's been there awhile. He was found by the Professor after a few news articles popped up about some 'strange deaths' and he had investigated. No one at the school knows much about him- they know he lived in the woods for a year when he was 13, and that the Professor found him- but that's about it. Practically all the students avoid him like the plague in the halls and at meal times. It's not that Logan tries to talk to the others anyway, and he doesn't really want too. He's used to being a lone wolf. He keeps to himself, doesn't want to deal with others shit, and he plans to keep it that way. He's gonna leave this place as soon as he is 18 next year. He isn't even sure where he would go, but he refuses to join the X-Men. He can't bring himself too- to many accidents with the claws and panic attacks to be able to help people.

Naturally, Wade decides that Logan is the person he is going to befriend. Even if the idea of being judged terrifies him, he can't help but be interested in the quiet brooding bad boy.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

"If a night of passion is on offer.." It's ok to take it.

I think some passion flower would do nicely for this pot of thought. Does Astarion really want a night of passion or is he people pleasing? Lets steep on it.

WARNING: Game spoilers and talk of S.A..

Hmmm...to be randy or not to be randy. That is the conundrum.

This is not fact, is just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have seen a lot of comments expressing anxiety about whether or not Tav should accept Astarion's proposal for sex in the grave yard.

"Given his past, I'm just not sure he really wants it."

"Is he just doing it because now that Caza..MF is dead he thinks I will leave now that the task is done?"

"Is he feeling insecure in his new freedom?"

"Is it too soon for him to be sexual after so much trauma for so long?"

"Does he mean what he is saying? Or is he being funny?"

I was one of those people. But now that iv had time to ponder it..

One thing to keep in mind is that most (I wont say all) S.A victims can, in time, start to enjoy sex again in safe, secure situations.

Treating them like they are fragile and tip toeing around them isn't fair. It doesn't help them build resilience or help them find a way back to a healthier relationship with sex.

If they are offering, trust them to make that choice.

Lets say you had a bad experience with swimming. You are scared of the water now, but you still love the ocean. You could forsake the water forever, and some do and that's a perfectly right choice, or you find small ways back to it.

Sit by the edge and watch the tide. Chase the tide out then let it chase you back in. Dip just your toes in the water. Then your hands, then your legs etc etc . Until one day you are back in the ocean.

It's the same with sexual interaction. Small steps to build your emotional strength back up.

That's not to say they wont still have pre or postcoital dysphoria from time to time, (fear of drowning) but it does get easier as time goes on. The more the experiences end in happy memories instead of tragic ones, the easier it gets.

So, does it show a lack of empathy to sleep with Astarion in the grave yard?

Nope. I think he actually does want to connect with you sexually.

Why?

Because of the dialogue you have regarding offering him the Astral-Touched tadpole. He says no. Then says...

"I had nothing for so long. Nothing. Not even my own body. I will NOT give it up, now it's mine again."

His face is one of complete conviction. He alone, controls what happens to his body. Who gets to use it, what happens to it, when it happens, where it happens and why it happens. Period.

This happens before you reach the city. Which means se has already regained the ability to say "no" long before graveyard.

Even if you chose to convince him to sleep with you after he asks you not to in his confession, he still asserts the boundary. It may be after the fact, and he leaves you, but it's still there.

So it wouldn't make much sense for him to suddenly back track and start offering sex as a means to manipulate Tav now.

Also, he is not using his "I'm lying out my fangs" face or his "I'm gong to literally seduce the pants off of you" face.

Mask of Lies Mask of Seduction

So, with those two things in mind, and I'm sure there are more, fast forward to that fateful night in the cemetery where he says he wants you to seduce him and...* insert suspenseful music*

BEHOLD!

When he says "If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded" his face is almost exactly the same as when he says "I love you, I love this. And I want it all".

(and there was much rejoicing)

He is not pulling the faces that he uses when he lies or seduces. Which means the offer is sincere. You have, through repetition and consistency, proven to him that you care about him because of who he is to you. Not because of what he can do for you. Which was what he wanted. You are a safe space. "I feel safe with you. Seen." And for our affection starved elf, that's got to be a total turn on.

Also, with Cazador dead, he can let go of the subconscious fear of you being destroyed in some way if he sleeps with you.

He can make love to you with all the feelings he's ever had to repress involved. And for the first time in 200 years, not have the fear of it being ripped away any second, or being punished for it, by that monster or himself.

Here, on his new birthday, where his new life starts, he choses to experience you.

So put the doubt down and go get some grave dirt in places it shouldn't be.

And get some saucy elf in places you want him to be.

But, a graveyard? Really?

Why not? Where else would be more appropriate to have a "little death" with someone? *wink*

Or it could be that fact that your bedroom has more people in it than a clown car. Needs must..

Oh, but do keep a look out for Gracie, the grave yard guard. She has a low tolerance for mischief.

[cutehoons02]

˚🕯️Run,ma belle ˚🕯️

*pairing: Vampire Jungwon x human reader (rivals to lovers)

*tags: Blood,bites,fluffy, kiss, teasing, a little smut, horny vampire

* synopsis: The vampire leader may have as his soul mate any human being or something dark will be wedded among the enhypen group.

This first one-shot is formed by Jungwon, with the next chapters you will also discover the other members

* word count: 5k (Tell me if you like this kind of stories:)

—REBLOG if you enjoyed

© cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

(English is not my native language)

It had been almost a year since one of the most prestigious mixed universities in the world had granted hospitality to live and study with vampires, wizards, elves, shape-shifters; but there were rules that anyone had to follow. Do not start fights inside the campus, respect any person especially human beings because they have no magical or superhuman power, and do not force love between non-human beings and human beings, You could understand very well if a couple was really in love especially if this was composed of a human being and a hybrid, especially between vampires/ humans. Y/n was accepted in that university because he was brilliant and his dream was to become a journalist on that campus, there were the best courses but also because fate wanted to meet and understand the leader of vampires so that you could fall in love with a human being, As had happened to his parents but with a better fate.

Y/n had been put in a room with a girl with human appearance and was super happy when he saw her for the first time because who entered that university had to pass tests not only related to the subject studied but also on magical creatures and especially you had to pass a defense exam and Y/n was astonished to pass all the phases, For his misfortune or good luck his roommate was a vampire and discovered it in a way as unpleasant but funny; wanted at all costs to try one of the lipsticks because she always had beautiful red lips but when she wore that lipstick she discovered that that lipstick was not artificially colored but with real blood that her roommate loved sucking from another vampire and who loved to show off to the whole campus.

Y/n was not very afraid of vampires because his roommate had tried in every way to get her used to that world and also make them know as many vampires as possible, including the group of his closest friends, were called "enhypen". After all, they had a kind of band and sometimes did concerts especially live on various social platforms and to his amazement were very famous. Still, people who didn’t live on campus thought they were just ordinary students doing funny ballet as a hobby or writing vampire-related pieces. Instead, they were real vampires and the less they were in contact with human people the better, because they seemed to all effects of simple humans but they were not at all, Each of them had special powers and insecurities that they tried not to show but when you think you are a superior creature to humans they could vent at any moment even if they managed to control their powers.

The enhypen was composed of 7 vampires all with different ages except the trio composed by Sunghoon, but the most powerful of all 7 was not the oldest in the group but one of the smallest members, although they were only a few years or months apart all respect Jugwon from the group members to the vampires on campus, all creatures and especially the few humans that populated the student campus. Jungwon loved to make everyone comfortable with his presence and his feline appearance especially the humans, not because he respected him but only for what had been suffered by his mother, She hated to have been conceived by a human being but at the same time, her mother had made her know the life of a human being with all the emotions that could be perceived and have, As a child, he loved being human but when he saw his mother in death he wondered why she had not chosen to turn into a vampire but maybe he knew that he could not love for hundreds of years that vampire who saved her hundreds of years ago, He loved his mother much more than his father but he was turned into a vampire because he wanted to live for hundreds of years but after that transformation, his heart no longer beat for anyone but maybe near there was a person who slowly was making sense Jungwon but he hated her with all his heart.

Y/n was a normal human girl who knew too much about magical creatures and her vampires and his bad luck as if someone on it was making him crazy if she found out without wanting to a lot of lessons that she had chosen to follow that year, his roommate and this thing did not play in his favor and every time he tried to ignore it if he found it in his field of vision, Jungwon did not like it because it was extremely intelligent and many times they also took the same score in tests, This made him angry. After all, he was seriously the most intelligent among all vampires and his power was to memorize everything in a few seconds but Y/ n sometimes passed it in tests.

"Well guys, i would like to propose a little collaboration between you, you know that the job of the journalist is a job where you are never alone so i would assign you a small project where you will work in pairs. The level of all of you is extremely high so there will be couples less capable than others but a couple that i am very curious to discover is the one formed by Jungwon and Y/n, you are the best students and i expect much from you two and in my opinion, you would be a perfect couple." You looked at Jungwon and he was giving a look of contempt to the professor and then to you, you never understood that boy, when he saw you always turned away or if you crossed him in the corridors changed ways, But in class, he loved to throw punches or beat you in tests; sometimes you wanted to be a vampire because Jungwon had the power to memorize everything instantly but other times it was nice to be a human and be able to beat him with your skills.

"Well guys, i would like to propose a little collaboration between you, you know that the job of a journalist is a job where you are never alone so i would assign you a small project where you will work in pairs. The level of all of you is extremely high so there will be couples less capable than others but a couple that i am very curious to discover is the one formed by Jungwon and Y/n, you are the best students and i expect much from you two and in my opinion, you would be a perfect couple." You looked at Jungwon and he was giving a look of contempt to the professor and then to you, you never understood that boy, when he saw you always turned away, or if you crossed him in the corridors changed the ways, but in class, he loved to throw punches or beat you in tests; sometimes you wanted to be a vampire because Jungwon had the power to memorize everything instantly but other times it was nice to be a human and be able to beat him with your skills. You went to Jungwon’s desk and watched him put his hand on his nose and make a disgusted face when he handed him the notebook with your ideas, you sniffed your wrists and maybe he did not like the scent of amber vanilla that you wore but your roommate had never bothered nor other vampires with whom you were in class. " Is there a problem with my perfume or is it just my presence that makes you feel like Yang Jungwon?" a small smile formed on his face and shivers of cold ran all over your body, you had always heard good things about Jungwon with humans but your sixth sense put you on alert when you were so close to him. " Don’t try to go over the line with me Y/n, i’ve never had you so close and i must be a little bit sensitive to your smell; things that i have already done with many human beings especially with girls" Roll your eyes because it looked so a puppy with those beautiful cat eyes but he had a cold heart and with you, he always behaved strangely " Don’t worry i don't want to know about your escapades with human beings, i came here to show you some topics that we could bring for the journalism project and i came up with an interesting topic for both you and me. How about talking about the fake news that we humans suffer in the vampire world and vice versa?" Jungwon put away all the material and surely had not heard anything you were saying because he was stuck chatting on the phone "Sure seems an interesting topic but now i must run away from you" You turned to watch him leave the room but after a few moments a cold presence was attached to you and shivers of cold poured into your body, Jungwon whispered in your ear and you would have been happier than ever without having heard those words come out of his mouth "But you want to be not me bitten is better if you change perfume because i don't like it, and if you are not your heart will beat no more not because you become a vampire but because i kill you. Write me on ig the day and at what time we have to be in the library, the more people there will be better it will be for you Y/n." You watched it disappear at the speed of light Jungwon and felt your heart beat wildly, surely telling you to make you scared; you had never heard of vampires that gnawed people, ok yes you had heard but in the term "bite" and that term was used mainly in sexual acts and Jungwon despised you so surely he wanted to scare you.

It had been a few days since you had seen Jungwon and your heart finally settled when you were near vampires, But every night nightmares of dark nightmares made their way into your mind and thoughts as if it were a bad joke of fate you always woke up sweaty and trembling at 3 or 3:30 at night, those hours were the periods of maximum paranormal activity and you always felt watched by someone but maybe they were just your paranoia. You had sent a message to Jungwon if he wanted to study with you for the project but obviously, he hadn’t answered, he had only visualized it and honestly, you were tired both physically and mentally of being behind that vampire, At the time you had sent by message you found yourself in the campus library; Soft lights ran through the entire corridor of the library and without wanting to find you studying in the less known area of the library but where you could study and feel at ease if you wanted to take small breaks.

A thud caught you by surprise and you watched Jungwon fall into the chair and put the computer in front of him, it was seriously beautiful had slightly wavy hair and some attached to his forehead, He wore a sweatshirt but how tight in the arms were it made his biceps stand out that every time you saw him they seemed more and more muscular and had a kind of makeup "Is this new to me the leader of the dark side of vampires, who wears eye-liner with a little bit of tinge to make his cat eyes stand out? Are you sure you’re a vampire and not a cat that turns to night?" a little laugh came out of his lips and you saw him protruding into the table until his face was a few centimeters from your "I like cats maybe even more than humans, they don’t need so much attention and love to be on their own exploring the world and surely have a smell better than your Y/n" You felt the tip of his nose attached to your neck and slightly felt your cheeks warm, he seriously looked like a cat sniffing you but didn’t seem so much to hate your smell as he always told you "Thank God you did not put that vanilla scent but the problem is that i really loathe your real smell as human 'Y/n" sunflower a moment to see it carefully sniff your neck and a slight redness formed in your cheeks, You pulled back your chair and looked at him badly "It doesn’t seem that much that you hate my neck especially the perfume that i emit, if it is more than five minutes that you smell me as if i was a feline looking for his lover" Jungwon when he heard your voice pulled back as if she was in trance from the smell you exhaled, would not confide it to anyone but they were all bullshit when he said that your smell was disgusting. Was literally the exact opposite, had already smelled you all over her body more than a year ago when she saw and heard for the first time in the classroom from study but put it away, but since you started having some lessons together he always became restless and only felt your smell in the classroom and because of that professor who had put you together to do that project he had to feel indifference and unpleasantness for you because no one had to understand that you had a strong power over him with your smell and did not dare to imagine how it was to have your blood between his lips and see you bent down and moan his name while he died on your neck with his vampire's teeth.

You watched for more than a minute Jungwon stared at you and with a snap in front of his eyes with your fingers he recovered from the trance he had while he sniffed you "Seriously Jungwon if you have a problem with me just tell me and we divide the tasks and before the presentation we start studying together if you can’t stand my presence or my smell so much, i never had any problems with other vampires and i also shared a course with your friend Hoon and he always behaved normally with me" Jungwon was seriously mortified by his behavior and couldn’t stand it either but the thing that made him most angry is hearing you talk about Sunghoon, because you called him Hoon and not Sunghoon? Hoon had always been attracted to vampires and never to humans. " There is no problem Y/n, just stay slightly further away as you are in class and everything will be fine, i want to work well on this project and get a good grade because i always dreamed of being a journalist and in this life, i would become one" seemed sincere for the first time and you put yourself in three chairs further away and started to study and program the project. After two hours you were seriously "in tune" If this could be called tuning be slightly apart you and Jungwon and text to understand your ideas even if you were in the same place but couldn’t speak out loud even if you were in a slightly isolated corner of the library. " Could you pass me that book on some fake news that came out about vampires in the human world, so i’ll do a little summary and then write the current ones especially those that came out with the advent of social media?" Jungwon unintentionally passed you before the book a sheet where he had written his ideas but to take it slightly graphed the tip of one finger and formed a slightly red patina, it had not even come out of the blood but i washed and licked immediately and your hand went immediately in the pocket of your sweatshirt. You didn’t have to rush to look at Jungwon but you saw him slightly whiter than usual and with dilated pupils "Run, ma belle otherwise, i can seriously bite your neck at this exact moment and suck your blood" For a few seconds you were full of fear but you had passed the physical test against vampires when they saw blood and ran right outside the library and you took refuge in the bar full of students where you could feel slightly safe when you saw your roommate With Sunghoon and Jake drink chocolate but you knew that in that cup there was also blood not entirely brown color had.

"Y/n you’ve already finished studying? It’s not like you to tell me that you missed your beloved favorite vampire!" you and T/n had a beautiful relationship even if you had discovered that she was a vampire you never made so many problems with her because she always respected you, made you feel comfortable while you were in the room together and ok sometimes left the envelopes of blood around the room but had never given you any problem.

"I wanted to drink a good chocolate with the cold that makes me out i seriously need but i must ask you urgently something about vampires" Sunghoon and Jake looked at you carefully and when they heard the question that you had made him a slight grin formed in his faces but a slight concern made its way into the minds of the vampires. " A vampire can always tolerate the smell of real blood? Especially if it does not come out of a wound, but why when Jungwon sees me always hurry to smell me, and when he smells my blood had light red eyes? Don’t tell me he wants to kill me i’m leaving this university, i hope to live for a while longer i don’t need to be bitten by a vampire who hates me" Sunghoon put a hand on your back to relax you and T/n took your hands slightly trembling to make you feel a little safe even if the contact between the cold of her hands and yours made your blood freeze but you could trust her.

"I think Jungwon is just stressed out and doesn’t drink his weekly blood Y/n, we live together but we are not attached to him 24h on 24h as once also because each of us has taken different paths of studies but i can assure you that it is due to the lack of blood in his body, calm that this evening we will make him drink and tomorrow he will be a "normal" person. "Let me just take away a curiosity, Jungwon has never tasted your real blood, Y/n?" You watched Jake and a laugh of terror came out from your lips "Why should Jungwon taste my blood, he despised me since the first day he saw me and i would not drink my blood from you vampires, especially in Jungwon". Jake nodded and looked at him with a worried face both Honn and T/l.

Jungwon was sitting contemplating the time lying in his bedroom bed, vampires hardly ever slept but he loved to take refuge in a safe place and that place was his room, He felt extremely weak but every time he tried to feel or drink blood from the bags that came into the blood bank each week, he had a rejection. He knew that he could not go on without drinking blood but since he had smelled for a few seconds the blood of Y/n had clicked in his head and thought only about her but especially about her smell. Heard the door of his room slamming and all 6 members invaded the view of his room and snorted "There is nothing to snort Jungwon, how long have you been drinking blood? You have dark circles in plain sight and this is a symptom of lack of blood in your body not to mention your lips are so cracked and almost purple. Please Jungwon you seriously need to drink blood and recover a little, it’s been more than a week that you’ve been locked in here and it’s not like you are among the sunniest people i know" Jay’s words warmed his heart even though that emotional woman had not felt it for a long time could sense the concern of Jay and the other members. " I seriously tried to drink a bag but i had a rejection for that blood since i felt for some moments the smell of the Y/n's blood i could not remove it from my head and i did not even taste it, Don’t know what’s happening to me i’m the leader of vampires and i’m getting weak for a stupid human..." Sunoo sat down next to Jungwon and hugged him, they had a platonic relationship of friendship and they had always helped each other in any dark moment and it hurt him to see a person with whom he had spent whole years being the light and the positive part of the group. " Maybe we could convince her to come and visit you with the excuse that you have to finish that journalism project and be able to reveal them seriously because you were so behaving with her" A sweet smile came out of Sunoo’s lips and a strong sense of confusion crept into Jungwon’s body "Oh my god how many times i have to tell you is not the soul mate, it’s just a human with a type of blood extremely different from others that has a strong power on my psyche, i bet my life that if it was away from me i would not have this kind of problem" a laugh came out of the smallest "God how do you make it so naive Jungwon, you are the leader of the vampires but you should be fucking happy to have found your soul mate instead you always act like an asshole with her, Wake up for a moment because if some other vampire comes to discover it they will want to steal you 100%. Yesterday i even told you that she had asked me about you and was seriously worried about you, and what she should be concerned about is her being a human without any kind of power and who could be hurt instantly" Niki was always quiet enough because he was the smallest of the group and had never responded badly to other members not to mention Jungwon who respected him very much. " Well at this point i should go to write to Y/n to come to our house otherwise a mini fight between vampires could break out!". Jake smiled at everyone and came out to call Y/n but he did not know that the human being who so detested his leader had done a lot of research and had discovered thanks to T/l that 90% was his supposed soul mate but there was that 10% that could have been chosen by the world of vampires to sacrifice his body and soul to the vampire leader who had little chance of survival.

Y/n was extremely terrified by Jake’s call to go home and study but knew that sooner or later he would have to face Jungwon both because the deadline for the project was expiring also because she wanted to know if she was her soul mate would have wanted to kill her, He did not trust any of the 7 vampires but Jake and Hoon seemed to have taken in sympathy even Niki the smallest of the group so he made strength and ran and played at the house of the 7 members.

Jake sat you down in the large room they shared in the dorm and a little black cat came up to them to sniff it and pursed "Well you’re one of the few people that Sinky at first gets along with, Niki is seriously right at this point!" You were crouching to poach the cat and 12 pairs of eyes looked at you through the large sitting room "Whose cat is this?" It was seriously beautiful and you thought it was Jay because he was always represented by a black cat "It was supposed to be a gift for me, but Sinky decided on his own who was his master or favorite member and that was the leader" Jay looked at you smiling and luckily that fear you had before entering was slowly diminishing until you saw Jungwon coming down the stairs and watching you carefully as you were caressing his precious cat. Jungwon had felt your presence already a few blocks from their home and seriously had to understand if you were really for him his soul mate or just a fixation on your blood, He had serious anxiety about seeing you and asking you to do something extremely intimate with him but only in that world could he understand if you were really his soul mate or maybe he already knew....

"Y/n, follow me that we must go ahead with the project" You looked at all the other members and nodded smiling "Isn’t it better to study in the living room or the kitchen?" Heeseung looked at Jungwon and made a sign to come down and make you feel comfortable, and Jungwon brought his notes down. "How are you?" You looked at Jungwon slightly with obvious dark circles, lips as dry and the knuckles of the hands slightly violet, he said to you "Could be better" and you were seriously worried about him, At first you couldn’t stand him but after discovering all the vampire nonsense, the tragic story between his mom and dad and his transformation lasted much longer than the others because the most powerful of vampires had decided that he should be the leader, Small feelings made their way into you. " Is there any way or anything i could do to make you feel better?" Jungwon’s gaze looked at you intensely and you felt yourself being observed by the other members, He shook his head and went on with the project but you knew there was only one way if he wanted to find out if you were seriously his soul mate so you went to sit next to Jungwon and you took his hand. It made you shiver because he seemed frozen in touch with you "What are you doing Y/n?" You began to draw little circles in his big, venous hands and saw a slight gleam in his eyes "I know, i’ll sound like a nosy lunatic but i’ve done some research on you and your behavior with me is that of a vampire in a state of uncertainty and no tolerance to any kind of person or being alive, the cause of this state at 95% is that of falling in love with a being not of the same living being and for your bad luck you are the leader of vampires so you have a lot of advantages but at the same time disadvantages because the first vampire of the pack who falls in love will suffer most of all and you are suffering right now Jungwon. A little whistle came out of Hoon’s lips "Fuck finally a person who tells you the truth in the face, i’m so happy that your soul mate is Y/n and not some slutty vampire trying to get into your pants only because you’re the most powerful vampire" A slight redness formed in your face and you looked softly at Jungwon. "There is only one way to know if you are exactly my soul mate Y/n, but i bet you will run away from me when you see my true nature!" You looked up and looked at Jungwon. "When have i ever backed away in my college years? No time and you know it too, so let’s end this forever Jungwon. Do what you have to do to see if i’m your soul mate but we all know that i am, who is it that spends the hours of the night watching me sleep from my dorm window or who is it that makes you go crazy? Me, Jungwon no other vampire or human". "Well if you are so curious to see my real nature follow me but do not try to run away because i could find you anywhere in the world" You nodded with a smirk and he took you to his room, your heart was beating crazy did you love challenges but maybe this was too much for you?

You sat in his bed and watched him close the Jungwon door to his room, I smiled a little bit and expected the worst but he took your hand and showed you around his room showing a picture of his mom "I would never hurt you Y/n, my mom made me discover the world of human beings before my transformation and I feel how your heart is beating quickly or how fear is making you anxious but I would never have thought to have to deal with another human. After his death, I did not want to have anything to do with the world of humans but then you came and I don’t know what’s happening to me..." Did not make him finish the sentence that you kissed him, you were seriously wanting to kiss him and feel the taste of his lips or hear his groans coming out of his lips and after a few seconds the kiss became more and more violent and desperate that you felt his canines become longer than necessary and his tongue licked you the lower lip and then slowly cognize for a second its canine to make you slightly out of blood, You felt his lips sucking your lower lip and a small moan came out of his lips, you strapped your arms to the bottom of his head slightly pulled his hair, did not hurt that little cut in your lip but excited you even more. "Fuck Y/n, why is it so good?" you felt yourself leaning on a huge pile of pillows under you and saw the eyes of Jungwon chocolate-colored become darker with a slight shade of red, the canines slightly more pointed than usual, His hair was unkempt, making him look even younger than he should be and you felt his cold body holding up without any force in yours. You began to kiss him again and slowly you started to caress under the light knitting of his muscles pronounced after the immense training and a slight moan came out of your lips, You looked at him, and with a nod he permitted you to take off the sweater, and surprised you the biceps more and more accentuated of the feline vampire and you began to kiss his neck until big hands took away the sweatshirt that you wore and remained only in the bra. Jungwon seriously wanted you to feel good so that you were no longer the one who kissed his neck but it was him and he felt how fast your blood pumped your heart and he was extremely proud that he was the one who made you feel this way and no other individual, had begun to give you little kisses until his true nature settled in him and little sweet bites made their way from your neck up to the protrusion of your firm breast, he seriously wanted to see you for what you were, Beautiful in her mind but she didn’t want to rush things with you. little sweet licks made their way where he had bitten you with his teeth and for him you were seriously a spectacle, you had a breathless breath, your wavy hair was spread in his cushions, Your smell invaded his whole room and your lips were slightly fat because of the small cut he had made with his canines.

"Ma belle, you can’t spare me from this moment, we’ll be forever you and me" was seriously true that fate had brought you together but there was something dark out there that was looking at you and contemplating against you.

*Taglist: @arclviie strxwbloody bamguetismee steddie-steddie jungwoosbaey

[antianakin]

Someone mentioned in the notes that Obi-Wan would have already done this with Anakin by taking Anakin on after Qui-Gon's death. The idea that he might have to attempt it TWICE is very depressing.

I do think that this would be an interesting dynamic in a lot of ways because Ahsoka I think would be FAR less receptive to Obi-Wan taking on thaat role than Anakin was, and than Obi-Wan would've been to Qui-Gon. Anakin barely spent all that much time with Qui-Gon before his death, so the switch from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan isn't quite as difficult, and Obi-Wan would've likely spent quite a lot of time with BOTH Feemor and Qui-Gon before Feemor died and was still on good terms with Qui-Gon when Qui-Gon took over his training.

Ahsoka, by contrast, hasn't even fully decided she wants to become a Jedi by the time Order 66 happens and is on somewhat rocky ground in her relationship with Obi-Wan at the time (she's relatively friendly in their last conversation, but she's still distant and she was pretty quick to jump down his throat when he didn't immediately tell her what she wanted to hear earlier). There's also the issue of Obi-Wan knowing that he's taking over for Anakin because Anakin BETRAYED THEM ALL. Depending on when in the timeline Ahsoka actually met up with Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan may not know that Anakin survived (and also depending on which canon you ascribe to about when he discovers that information), but if it's after he DOES know that, then he's taking over for a master that ISN'T ACTUALLY DEAD.

And we all know how attached Ahsoka is to Anakin and how unwilling she is to accept the truth about what he did, her guilt surrounding what she believes to be her part in Anakin's ultimate fate and how that hinders her. I don't get the feeling that Ahsoka would take this information well, and I could EASILY see her turning on Obi-Wan and blaming him for not trying to give Anakin more of a chance and for either killing Anakin or leaving him to die.

The history that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have together and their shared connection to Anakin COULD be helpful in allowing Ahsoka to face those feelings head-on and heal from them and return down the path of becoming a Jedi, but it could also go the exact opposite way. That history and their shared connection to Anakin could become a wall between them, something that just causes more pain and misunderstandings.

It would be the MESSIEST transition of them all since it involves having to heal individually from the pain that Order 66 encompassed on its own, as well as having to get over all of Ahsoka's issues stemming from the Wrong Jedi arc, and likely having to UNDO some of the bad training Ahsoka got from Anakin in the first place before Ahsoka is even willing to admit she wants to return to being a Jedi and even once she reaches that point, she and Obi-Wan might both feel like this isn't a particularly great match anymore and that Ahsoka would be better with literally anyone else. They MIGHT choose to stick it out together, but I think they'd have to be pretty careful around each other and couldn't necessarily fall into the more typical Master/Padawan dynamic. They can't just go back to who they were, they're both irrevocably changed by what's been done to them.

There's potentially some healing that could happen between them, but my instinct is to believe that even if they DID help each other heal from Anakin's betrayal, they still can't slot into a Master/Padawan relationship and would need to start fresh with other people in order to let go of that desire to cling to the past that just continues to cause them pain. (I also think Ahsoka would probably chafe at being stuck on Tatooine the way Obi-Wan has committed himself to and needs someone more willing to go out and be more active in the rebellion.)

One of the reasons that the headcanon that Qui-Gon "repudiated" Feemor post-Xanatos really bothers me is that the characterization we get of Qui-Gon really lends itself more to the idea that he might've CLUNG to Feemor rather than pushed him away. There's zero indication that Qui-Gon has cut off all contact with the people he had relationships with prior to Xanatos (Yoda, Mace, Tahl) and one of the reasons he's so disinclined to take a new apprentice is the fear that he'll make the same mistakes he did with Xanatos and cause their fall. But if he has a whole other apprentice that he WAS successful with, wouldn't he instead cling to that proof that he's not actually a failure? Even just as a comfort?

I propose an AU where Qui-Gon actually ends up partnering with Feemor post-Xanatos in order to always have that comfort nearby. Feemor wants Qui-Gon to get back into the saddle of teaching but knows Qui-Gon well enough to understand that throwing him into that saddle won't go well for anybody, so he decides on a trickier plan and takes a Padawan of his own (his first Padawan since he became a Knight) and ask for Qui-Gon's assistance. Since Qui-Gon is partnering with him, it's inevitable that they'd end up basically sharing the responsibility of teaching any Padawan that Feemor takes, but Feemor intentionally makes sure Qui-Gon knows that he's nervous about it and will want his Master's guidance.

So instead of becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan ends up becoming FEEMOR'S Padawan. Qui-Gon sees right through all of this of course, but he can't really do anything about it and he doesn't really mind helping Feemor with a Padawan the way he would if he had sole responsibility. He bonds with Obi-Wan relatively easily and the three of them become an incredible team.

And then you can get real angsty with it and say that Feemor died before the events of TPM, so Qui-Gon obviously took over Obi-Wan's apprenticeship on his own afterwards.

[dearmyloveleys]

;-; i just wanted to say ty for all your posts in the fof tag. now i'm thinking about ying lei and his yeye ying zhao... and now there is no one left to guard the mountain, but ying lei died in the same way as ying zhao, saving people he cares about

Don’t mention it! I blorb too much about things I really like it embarrasses me at times. I’m just glad you like my takes!! Anyway:

😭😭😭😭 this drama exists to hurt us,, I think more than dying for people he cares about (because nearly everyone who died did that), Ying Lei's characterisation and death provides a unique but tragic pov within the main cast

Ying Lei my poor Ying Lei. We don’t really talk too much about him don’t we. So let’s just talk all about him. CHARACTER ANALYSIS TIME YAY

Ying Lei is unadulterated sunshine and has a good heart. Morally, he is on the same page as the rest of the team. Yet, it absolutely breaks my heart that his fate is to be an outsider within the thematic concern of choice in FoF and resultingly, in the narrative.

His place in the overarching thematic concerns of FoF is unclear when we first meet him - he is simply a wandering half mountain god half demon with a bright disposition. But as with many characters in FoF, their appearances aren't just for naught. Ying Lei's representative theme - the freedom of choice and the ability to choose one's identity - finally shows itself in one of the most beautifully written (am biased) episodes of the series, Episode 17, which is all about choice.

In this episode, Ying Lei vents his displeasure of the Wilderness towards grandpa Ying Zhao

"I hate this place. I hate the Wilderness. It's so bleak and desolate. (…) If I have to stay here forever, I'd rather die. (…) I like the mortal world. I like everything that is vibrant and lively."

To which grandpa Ying Zhao gives him his blessing to head to the Mortal Realm,

"…as your grandfather, I respect your decision. You can be a Mountain God or an ordinary person."

His next sentence cements the plight of many demons (and humans) we encounter in the story,

"For many demons in the Wilderness, their lifelong dream is just three simple words… Have a choice."

These three words all the more juxtaposes Ying Lei's freedom to choose his identity, against every other character who faces this fate of not having a choice.

The Lie Demon, unable to say her true feelings until her moment of death, and Fei, who shares similar sentiments as Ying Lei about the mortal world,

"I'm a beast of calamity, I don't deserve to live in the mortal world. But I really like the bright lights, the liveliness and happiness, and the prosperity here." (Ep 13)

And Zhao Yuanzhou, where even in the same Episode 17, echoes Ying Lei's words,

"If this world gave me life to be manipulated by malicious energy, then I'd rather die."

Same words, but a different way out. Or there isn't one at all.

Ying Lei is the only one whose fate hasn't been carved out in stone for him. Even after Ying Zhao's death, he is still able to leave Kunlun Mountain and rejoin the team because he has the support of other Mountain Gods watching over the temple. He is by no means a pampered and spoiled person but he swims in a wealth of freedom. His bubbly, charming and affectionate personality is a physical manifestation of his unburdened self, unbeholden to any ending, except for the one that he wants.

And yet, he chooses a life with the group of people who never have had the option to choose what and who they want to be. Wen Xiao, the Baize Goddess; Zhao Yuanzhao, the vessel of malicious energy; Bai Jiu, determined to bring his mother back; Pei Sijing, the forced breadwinner of her family's martial heritage. To show his determination to be with this group, he never again dons the mature get-up (full sleeved robes and long hair) - his representation of maturing and accepting his responsibility as a Mountain God - after returning back to the Mortal Realm. Rather, he dons the get-up he first roamed the Mortal Realm with (or similar), metaphorically putting aside all that celestial burden in exchange for the friends that he desires. Just who in the group can as easily shed their very roots and history? His precious freedom to choose ironically makes him the outsider in a group whose only wishes are to be able to choose.

He gets along with the team, but no matter how many times he ties the knot of fate around them, these people were never his fate to begin with. Fate found the rest of them and demanded they be bound. Ying Lei wrestles that rope of fate, trying to get in, albeit with rejection. The narrative demonstrates this:

The team was initially formed without him, and he joined later them of his own accord - his own choice - while the others literally were forced to sign a death contract to be together. In the later episodes, his affection for Bai Jiu is often overshadowed by Bai Jiu's respect for Zhuo Yichen. He also continually tries to get both Bai Jiu and Zhuo Yichen's approval - head pats, anyone? Zhao Yuanzhou doesn't trust him to look after the dragon scale. In their conversation with Bing Yi, their team count is five, instead of six. His closest companions within the team are each other's confidants.

Even at his very end, the narrative still denies him a fate with them. He dies for Bai Jiu who is the only person he loves wholly, and fades away before Bai Jiu wakes from his coma. Neither gets to say goodbye. Bai Jiu who genuinely mourns his death, dies for Yichen. In a story where the cyclical nature of fate runs deep, there is no thread of fate that leads back to him. There is no resolution or reciprocation for Ying Lei's soul and sacrifice. Every thread is cut and never retied, no matter how he tries. Siheng has Sijing left to remember him. Yichen keeps Baijiu close to his heart. Wen Xiao and Yichen wait for Zhao Yuanzhou to return. But no one truly reminisces Ying Lei. The only people to do that are dead.

Ying Lei's tragedy lies in his freedom to choose. In a world where most fate is predetermined and choice is a scarcity, his death is all the more painful as every act is a conscious choice toward an unknown end. He carries a burden after all - the burden of writing his own story. And he braved each step with that brilliant smile of his.

我爱这个世界更多 又如何 So what if I love this world even more? 越平凡越长久 The more ordinary it is, the longer it lasts 月亮跟着我点头 The moon nods along with me 简简单单入梦的人最温柔 Those who step into dreams simply are the gentlest 分不清眼泪和酒 真让人挠头 This inability to distinguish between tears and wine, really makes one scratch their head 月亮和小狗默默跟我走 The moon and a puppy walk with me in silence 岁月从不停留 Time never stops once 少年也不回头 This youth also never turns back 他把故乡和爱留在身后 He leaves behind both his hometown and love

- 英雄不磊落 (Heroes Are Not Upright) | Ying Lei's Theme

[icarusredwings]

"I said

Silence.

I warned you, If you won't stop, I would do it myself."

Francis wasn't done with him. Not yet anyway. But he would make him obedient. Wordlessly taking orders like a machine. No more back talk. He would make him perfect. At least… that is....Until Logan shows up.

Chapter 3.

Brand New City

Cw: Dead Dove, Mentions of Rape, Kidnapping, Straight up torture, Various cruel and unusual punishments, Blood, Murder, Feral behavior, Descriptions of pain and wounds, Voices, Hallucinations, Extreme hurt/comfort, Angst, Loss of healing factor, loss of voice- Permanently(!), Character death.

You may experiance lots of crying.

He would hum if he could. Hum along to the electricity he could hear from the light above him. Make a song out of it. Harmonize with the screams.

But he couldn't even do that.

Opening the door was none other then the man who prevented him from ever doing that again. His head lowers on instinct, trying to get a better look through the sweat running down his forehead. He would have loved to explain to the reader how this place stunk. It SHOULD have smelled like rotting flesh, agony, and B.o. But it smelled of nothing.

Nothing at all.

He couldn't even taste the blood in his mouth.

The man in front of him smirked, too smugly for his liking. Clapping his hands together he stood about 2 feet from his chair, rubbing them together as he smiled bigger than the Joker at his batman themed birthday party.

“So. How's your recovery coming? Hopefully the boys weren't too rough with you.” He states, looking down on him like Johnathan Groff as King George did on John Adams. “You know how they can be. You know the saying, Boys will be boys.”

The comment was direct. It hurt. It hurt because he knew that his goons were in fact too rough with him. He knew he wouldn't give a rat's ass if they didn't feed him, punched him, kicked him. He didn't care if they held him down, beat him until he couldn't move any longer, coughed blood in their face or if they had their way with him until they became bored.. and it hurt.

Oh, did it hurt...

Still did..

Look, Wade could take a lot, he was already mentally snapped. So for them to take away that last bit of sanity he held? It was simply cruel. Like hanging a bone to a starving dog JUST out of reach no matter how far it jumps and snaps, always failing, eventually giving up, laying down, and accepting its fate of permanent malnutrition to the point of death. Accepting that by fighting it was only moving up their appointment with her.

With Death.

Wade felt like dying after what they've done to him. He knew he thought about it a lot but… He's never wanted to see her more than now. She would kiss him better.. she would take away his pain.

He was sure that his brain was rotting in places it wasn't before, the flesh of his mind decomposing, hot with dehydration and.. what was he talking about? Oh my god was he STILL talking? For fuck sakes.

Glancing up, Francis was still going on about something. Probably something stupid. Why did mad scientists always gloat to their victims?

He wondered how long he was going to let him rot like this. His limbs were already so numb, so heavy and felt like gravity was close to ripping them off with no help at all. It hurt.

That's all he could keep thinking.

It hurts.

What exactly? Well… Everything. Mainly his throat. God did his throat hurt. It throbbed, was sticky, bloody, and raw. His spine hurt, his toes hurt, his jaw hurt, his fingers felt so numb that he wasn't even sure if they were still attached. The soreness alone was killing him. Whatever he did to him? Wade felt like he enhanced his pain receptors. Taking them from a 15 to a 150.

It hurt so badly to breathe, each breath making his chest shake, rise and fall, trembling. This only enhanced, the sharp pain running through his heavy cheek, flinching as he was slapped.

“What's my name?”

Glancing up at him, Wade was more then confused. His body was falling into pieces and THAT'S what he cared about!? What's worse is he knew that he couldn't answer him. He was physically incapable of it.

“I said ‘What's my name?!” He screams at him, leaning in close, staring as Wade glared daggers at him, his mind already thinking of millions of ways to kill him.

If only he had the strength to fight..

Leaning in, Francis smirked that sick bastard of a smile, putting his hand to his ear. “Sorry, What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?”

About 5 full seconds pass before his grin gets widder, breathing out as he stands again, sighing in relief.

“Finally… Silence. What did I tell you? I warned you that If you won't stop, I would have to do it myself.”

He flicks Wade in the nose almost playfully. Wade, who, if it wasn't for the tape wrapped around his head to the point breathing through his mouth wasn’t an option- would have bitten his finger clean off.

Francis punches him. Hard. He breathed heavily through his nose, heaving and trying to groan out but nothing came out. Nothing ever came out anymore..

He laughs, smiling. Wade could count all of his teeth if his eye wasn't starting to swell up. Grabbing his face, tears forced themselves out of his eyes and down his cheek. Pulling him close, Francis put their heads together. “Oh, Look at you. So pretty when you cry.. are those for me? Hm? Ooh yes, Show me those big scared eyes. You aren't so full of quips now, are you?”

His hand reaches down, cranking up the collar around his neck, watching Wade's body shake. Not from fear but because his body was physically struggling to stay upright. He would have already flopped over if his arms and legs weren't chained, making him only slouch instead of fall to the floor.

“Let's be honest, you look better with your mouth shut anyway.”

Looking at him, he was confused. So confused. What was wrong with this guy? What kind of game is this? If Wade's voices didn't agree with him he would have claimed that Francis lost it far more than he did.

He pulls away, trailing a finger from the collar, going up his throat and across his jaw. “So let's make you gorgeous, huh? So… What's my name?”

Wade's eyes widen, his pupils, for once, shrinking. He squeezes his legs further together, trying to turn away only to flick him off with his untied finger, his wrists tied to the chair arms.

Francis slams a fist down on the finger, snapping it back as Wade jolts, silently screaming, huffing, beginning to hyperventilate and struggle against the chair best he could.

FffffUCK that hurt! He didn't remember such little fingers ever hurting that badly. Did it always burt that bad? Jesus christ! He needed out. He needed to escape. But he's already tried all his tricks. It only got him hurt more.

Again he hits him, slapping him with the back of his hand hard enough to bust his lip through the tape. The crimson that flooded his mouth made him flinch, gritting his teeth as he swallowed. It was agonizing. Each movement of his throat muscles was worse and worse, seeming almost paralyzed.

“Where do you think you'll go? Huh? You ain't going anywhere! And now look at what you've made me do!” He shouts, as Wade's head leans back, looking at him through his blonde eyelashes, exhausted, the vein they had in his arm pumping out what blood he was replenishing itself at snail speeds.

“You've made me ruin one of my best works yet… but that's okay. All good bitches break eventually. And then you'll be finally useful. The perfect soldier.”

What was it with people and the perfect soldier thing? Didn't the Winter Soldier already have this arc?? And didn't he already try to make him perfect in the first movie? God the writers are really getting lazy aren't they.. His eyes roll, and again he's hit, the sting running up his jaw and across his cheek, feeling the burn in his nose as it begins bleeding heavier.

“But no, you couldn't behave! So now you're going to die, alone, sitting in your own piss. What? Like anyone would actually come to save you?” he laughs. “You actually believe that? That anyone would actually care about you? You're disgusting. Fake skin and all, I know who you are underneath it all.”

Francis grabs his wrists, leaning forward. “Even your own mother couldn't love a face like that. Could she?”

‘He was probably right’, Wade thinks, feeling himself slipping away. His blood felt as if it were pouring out of him like a barrel of whiskey with holes shot through it.. Why didn't Francis just kill him already? He could easily shoot him. Get rid of him like the nasty scum he was.. but he didn't. He nee-

His mind switches to something else mid sentence in his head. A different voice taking over.

Whiskey… the smell of it stained on Logan's sweatshirts used to be the only thing that kept him sane, But now? It hurt too much to think about. It hurts too much to think about his loss. To think he would never smell that again...

If he thought about it anymore? Well, his heart was already about to die.. might as well go out thinking about that muscley hunk of Canadian. How gently he held him. How hot it was when he protected puppins from big dogs at the dog park or braided Laura's hair… how he loved him.

Truely.. loved him..

‘Never again, I fear’, Wade thinks and believes it brokenheartedly.

“Are you even listening to m-”

wwwwWWWOOOO

His head snapped towards the door, picking up a com as he clicked the button, walking away from Wade. Thank god. He was starting to worry that he'd kiss him. Ewww. He would never kiss someone named ‘francis’ or ‘ajax’ for that matter. Wade didn't like soap in his mouth.

“Turn that off! Now! What did I tell you morons abo-” There was shouting on the other end of the line before a scream. Something along the lines of ‘He's here’

“Who!? Who's here?- Doesn't matter. Shut the whole place down! Hello? God damn it-” he switched a line, the loud blaring of the alarm drowning him out. “Angel! What's going on up there? Hello!?? Why the fuck do I even pay you guys? For what?”

On the other line, there was shuffling, boots, shouting, “Find him!-”

The look on Francis’ face was golden. His little slave trade was getting busted. And Wade was physically chained to his seat to watch, death glaring daggers at him with the smallest, smuggest smirk under his tape, breathing through his nose heavily.

“This isn't over yet. Don't you even dare think I'm finished here! You Will obey me!”

The moment he ran out of the room to go save his research (or possibly abandon it), A rumble came from the wall.

Claws.

What? No. He was hallucinating again. His mind was so cruel to him now. Starved, dehydrated and exhausted, mentally physically and emotionally, you name it.

Leaning his head back against the chair, he sighs, watching as an imaginary Wolverine came through the wall, panting, snarling, feral. Like an animal hunting its prey.

The amount of dust and mold that came from the wall was enough to make him cough, and in an instant, Logan was at his side, tearing through the chains.

Damn.. He'd have to give the imagination team some props upstairs. This seemed way too real. The way the red lights flashed over his eyes made him look so pissed, his frantic worry in those blue eyes, the struggle in his voice to keep from crying as his nose twitched. He was sniffing him...he didn't recognize him…

His mouth opened to mutter something.

What was he saying? ‘Oh- hey! Stop shaking me!’ Is what he wanted to say, only to realize that.. Hallucinations couldn't touch you.

His eyes widened, He had given up on being pretty but if that was the truth he wouldn't know how to survive. But he was anything but pretty right now, snot, tears, blood and piss covering him.

It was now that Logan yelled something, Directing some agents or.. police? It was hard to tell when He felt like the ground was trying to drag him down, gravity taking hold of him as he slouched over in the chair, still in too much pain to support himself.

“I need a code, Get me a collar code, NOW!” he read his lips, though, he could have Said “I saw an old get me a dollar cod now” but that didn't make much sense, Wade thought. Then again he wasn't thinking much at all right now.

When Logan finally ripped off both collars and all of the wiring/tubing, he looked like he would puke at the sight of him. Pushing his shoulders up against the back of the chair, his hands shaking, covered in blood and sweat, tears flooding his eyes.

Aw.. he didn't like seeing Logan cry. He was saying so many things, shouting at him angrily, hurt. Those big Atlantic eyes becoming a true ocean. A soft smile came to his bruised and busted lips, staring at him so fondly, sympathetic. He missed Logan.. he missed him so much that his eyes stung just from seeing him. His love was so heavy, weights he could never escape in a room full of quicksand.

Wade opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Wade! Answer me! What did you take? What did he give you!? Honey, look at me! Please! Tell me, tell me anything! Wade!-” he shakes him again.

“Tell me what you took, Wade look at me, Tell me what'd you take? Wilson!.. please.. talk to me. Answer me, Wade!” He shouts.

He flinches. Hard.

“Oh… sweetheart....What did he do to you..?” His voice cracks, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek but Wade's hand comes up to hit it away, trying to instinctively turn away into the chair, hiding. He looked so.. terrified. Like he didn't know who he was.

Something about this sends Logan into a rage, growling loudly and snarling towards the door where he ran off. He stands, hairs on his body raised, eyes glazed over with blind hatred.

Just before he runs to shred the man who did this to his husband, He grabs him.

Shaking from weakness and fear, in that chair sat a man he barely knew, eyes as blue as his own, blonde hair growing to look like a buzz cut. So thin. So weak. His neck was burned, his nose was bleeding down his chin, his lip joining in, his black eye almost swollen shut, deep yellow and purple bruising on his rib cage, hand prints on his throat, internal bleeding in his gut. He could tell by the smell of him. That and the massive pooling that shown on his stomach.

His fingers were gripping on Logan's shirt, and tight from the looks of it.

As tight as his remaining strength would let him.

The pleading look in his eye's begged him not to go. Begged him never to leave his side ever again. Such big eyes.. such desperation.. so much pain.

Grunting, Logan points to the door. “DON'T let him get away or I'm coming after YOU!” he growls, watching as all of the remaining soldiers run out the room, leaving Logan with Wade. And Wade with Logan.

No one else mattered now.

Sitting in front of him, Logan held his hands, suddenly panicking. “Wade!” He shouted, squeezing his hand. It was cold.

Where were they? Alaska? Canada? No.. not Canada. If this was Canada he would have to move to a new city and teach himself how to die, how to bury a memory as his life was burying his own with each passing moment.

“Wade? Stay with me. Come on, Just be strong a little longer! Please- You can't leave me again!!” He shouts at the top of his water filled lungs, but Wade can't see anything. He couldn't feel anything either except the cold concrete against his naked stomach as everything disappears.

Heh… funny.. the one time God answered his prayers… When he said he wished he could see Logan again before he died, he didn't mean this.

As did everyone eventually.. as Logan was destined to.

This wasn't how he wanted to go out but.. he was pretty sure that Fate had lost her patience with him.

And so.. that's it... that's the final bell. Close the curtains.. roll the credits.. This movie's over. No post credit scene.

Just…

The End

[dreams-hopes-lies14]

some thoughts about the Doctor Odyssey mid-season finale:

I’m SO shocked that the writers had the balls to do this but I’m genuinely so glad because (although I think I’m in the minority) I always find a pregnancy storyline to be so interesting especially with how it can change up character dynamics

I’m not mad at Tristan x Vivian👀 HOWEVER, I think that Tristan is still in love with Avery (and also Max but doesn’t know it) AND VIVIAN DESERVES BETTER

Genuinely, I want to see more Vivian

We are in dire need of a Broadway episode!!!

okay so Tristan may also have some daddy issues that may have helped form his intense fear of abandonment (so now he has daddy issues with our resident daddy, Dr. Max Bankman🤭)

I hate how this “female dilemma” is currently being framed BUT I think (or hope) that the writers are doing this to set up the potential of both Max and Tristan being involved in helping out so Avery can also achieve all of her dreams because WITH THE RIGHT SUPPORT IT IS DOABLE

Avery is such a cynic who believes that joy is excruciating and I NEED her to talk about why that is (perhaps divorce trauma? childhood trauma?)

Avery definitely had ideas of a life with a white picket fence, but I think she’s more accepting that that might not be her fate compared to the boys but I don’t think she ever figured that having a kid doesn’t have to be in the context of a white picket fence

either way I support Avery’s right to choose! and I’m so glad that Tristan told her what she needed when Max was clearly freaking out

Max’s automatic reaction was to somehow make the pregnancy work while also helping Avery with her dreams and I can’t help but wonder why exactly he locked in on that assumption because I think it goes beyond the “I haven’t had this happen before”

So many themes of life coming to catchup with you even in so-called heaven and idk if I should buy into the heaven/afterlife/coma theories or if this is the writers saying “BUCKLE UP — REAL LIFE SHIT IS COMING AT YA SOON”

Reality always has a way of catching up to them so is it potentially Max’s reality of potentially still dealing with COVID (the theory) or is it that the throuple isn’t some sort of fantasy just as ALL three of them (yes, including Avery —especially Avery) has been treating it

The throuple can (and should imo) be rooted in reality, but right now, it’s being treated as a dream, an overindulgence, and a form of escape rather than as a real relationship where they have to constantly work on the interpersonal bonds amongst themselves AND their intrapersonal traumas

I’ll definitely have to rewatch the episode and I’ll watch it within the context of the previous episodes because I wanna look into more of the song motifs and themes throughout the show because I do think that this is a Ryan Murphy specialty

I also think the music could give us an indication of where they might go with the throuple, Tristan x Vivian, etc.

Overall, I know that some people may not like the trope, but I’m really really glad that they decided to go all in with this! I loved this episode and the fact that we’re seeing Avery being forced to confront something very very real that could potentially connect with her previous traumas

im also SO glad that the fanfic I have cooking that has some people from Max’s past fits in with the storyline (dare I say, even more so because it deals wit a childhood friend, and a previous teen pregnancy and how it affected Max’s life🤭)

[lemonwrap]

Actually, I changed my mind. Imagine that Ghost spends what could’ve been an eternity rewinding every time Soap died. Ghost tried relentlessly to change the outcome that the universe seemed dead set on.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. That’s what Ghost always heard people say, but the only result he will accept is a world where Soap is alive and well. He’ll rewind for an eternity if it means Soap will walk out of that tunnel with that grin on his face.

The sight of Soap’s body crumpled on the ground and the scent of blood is burned into Ghost’s very being, but so is the sound of Soap’s laughter and the sensation of his lips on Ghost’s.

Ghost wept the first time Soap died. Sometimes he still does. Sometimes he gets angry or even just laughs, but most of the time, Ghost goes quiet and bears the horrible, sinking feeling in his chest that makes him feel like he’s going to start choking on it, like it’s all gone, like his whole fucking soul has shattered—then he breathes out, concentrates, and starts over.

Ghost starts over and over and over again, doing something different each time to change fate itself, living the same few hours so many times that no number could ever define how hard and how much he’s tried—but then one day, it works.

Soap lives.

The universe is cruel and uncompromising, but Ghost’s love perseveres more than it ever could.

Pssst. Hey, imagine that Ghost somehow gains the ability to rewind time and he tries countless times to try and save Soap in the tunnel, but he can’t find a way to make it work—because there is no world where Soap is meant to keep living, there is no universe where Ghost’s sun keeps shining, and there is no place for good people like Soap anywhere but in the ground.

[dont-look-up]

Summary of the Bleach site interview with Abarai Renji’s voice actor Itou Kentarou by @Madarameh1

[posted with permission]

Itou first encountered Bleach when he read it in Jump, liked how its vibes were different from other Jump works. Wanted to play Renji as soon as he he appeared in the manga, but there were no Bleach auditions for him so he auditioned for Ichigo instead. Was happy to get Renji :)

Itou's favourite Renji line is when he begs Ichigo to save Rukia. Also when he promises Rukia to become a shinigami with her; Itou was looking forward to voicing this line and was worried when they cast a female VA to voice young!Renji LOL

Itou's fave character is Hinamori Momo! Loves every side to her, from her gentle side to her devotion to Captain Aizen. His fave moments are Renji and Ichigo training together in the Soul Society arc and at the Soul King Palace.

Itou always thought Renji's original bankai was awesome but was even more excited to see his true bankai. How would he describe Renji? "A man among men." Climbed to the top despite his harsh childhood and developed after encountering Ichigo.

Itou usually shouts the "Hihio Zabimaru!" line for Renji, but for Soo Zabimaru he was instructed by the director and Kubo to say it more calmly without shouting. He likes to shout for these kinds of characters so restraining his voice has been a challenge.

Itou notes how the amount of info on screen impacts how he performs when recording a foreign dub vs an anime. However TYBW visuals are so HQ + informative that he has to hold back. Likes to be extra in the test run before the real thing + gets worried when there's not any ahah

What Itou's found memorable about the TYBW rec is seeing all the captain VAs gather together + get hyped up (Kurotsuchi's VA Nakao even took photos LOL); shows how everyone loves Bleach + is happy to reunite Recalls how for the OG anime everyone was crammed in a small area

Re: the Renji vs Uryuu fight Itou recorded it with Sugiayama. Was happy he got to shout for this fight haha He and Sugiyama noted how nostalgic it was to have these 2 fight considering Uryuu was Renji's first opponent in the human world

Itou notes how knowing vs not knowing the ending can impact one's acting. Something he's conscious of when acting in the TYBW is Renji and Rukia’s relationship - he and Rukia’s VA Orikasa have made it their mission to keep the romance vibes b/w them lowkey LOL

Another aspect about Renji Itou finds it hard to convey is how he's one of the few shinigami considered special to Ichigo.

Itou's conflict is that he rides his road bike as a hobby and for his health but is always tempted to eat and drink somewhere afterwards so he doesn't lose weight. It's something he's dealt with for a decade so he's basically accepted it as his fate now LOL

Itou's message to Bleach fans is to keep him company and to stick around until the end (and see "that scene" with Renji and Rukia)

Original Interview: Interview with Kentaro Ito (role of Renji Abarai)

Full Translation: @Madarameh1

[lairofsentinel]

Info compilation of Lucanis Dellamorte (part 2)

Warning: I’m using the incorrect lore that this game has since it is the one that they built the game upon. Inconsistent things such as “The Lighthouse is in the Fade” or “Mind imprisonment” nonsense are not dismissed during this compilation even though they are strongly questionable.

Unfortunately, Lucanis character has a lot of issues in his writing; sometimes conversations feel like they were written by three different persons and the game ends up with a frankenstein dialogue which can be barely followed, and one needs to fill in the gaps to keep it somehow cohesive and coherent. Besides, there are several times where he suffers narrative inconsistency: he says something that gets contradicted mid-game without being part of his “development”, if he has any.

Also, I apologise in advance for my bitterness that sometimes spills into the text like the Blight when it comes to the murder of the Lore that Veilguard has done to the DA world.

The current post has the following sections [bold ones]:

Approvals and disapprovals

Body Language

Eyes

Why the pantry?

High focus, cool head, and professionalism

Food and cooking

Mage-killer specialisation and previous jobs

Death and Life

Crows and Family

Spite and Possession

Sleep and Coffee

Flirt and Romance

Lucanis’ Logbook

Others

Info compilation: Part 1 || Part 2

[this post will be likely updated briefly after I do a playthrough without saving Treviso in case additional information is shown, but probably won’t be much]

Spite and Possession

The possession process suffered by Lucanis meant to force him to eat something that had Spite in it as if it were a parasite. This process was inspired by the cult we saw in Cassandra’s personal quest [DAI] in which Seekers were forced to consume red lyrium despite their resistance to its effects [Banter Lucanis-Bellara].

The original intention of the experiment was to cultivate twisted spirits inside the body of mortals and let them erupt from the body as full demons like a “moth emerges from a cocoon” [what’s lore?]. We can see this in some codices along the Ossuary, where prisoners were used as incubators, from which demons emerged and were sent to Vyrantium or Marnas Pell, calling them “successes” [Recruiting mission]. Lucanis prevented this fate by doing a deal with Spite [Banter Lucanis-Bellara], so he was perceived by Zara as a failure [Recruiting mission and Inner Demon quest]. This deal is the one related in the scene where Rook can finally talk with Spite: “Break our chains, kill, escape, and live”. Since his self-acceptance as an abomination is a process that Lucanis has encapsulated in his mind, he is not aware that the prison still exists in his mind and forces Spite to remain there, somehow [what’s lore?]. This situation makes a constant violation of the deal that saved Lucanis’ life.

“Whatever else I am, I’m a professional” is one of the lines after failing the first attempt in killing Ghilan'nain that shows how much of a conflict his possessed condition interferes with his professional, cold side. He tries to process the trauma through work, doing exactly what he had been doing before, to a point in which he does not realise he has compartmentalised the Ossuary in his mind.

Lucanis’ vial of blood in the Ossuary is quite big, implying that he has been bleeding a lot during that year. The torture he experimented for a year was enough to make him forget how Caterina was like [Recruitment quest]

He survived the Ossuary by “shutting down completely, thinking nothing, feeling nothing, except what was needed to escape.” [Davrin-Lucanis banter]

He describes his possession state as something similar to “touching something vast and eternal. A well, deep inside”. He also confesses that the possession terrified him in the beginning, and shares with Harding the impression that their condition is just “the beginning” of something deep down, waiting. [Harding-Lucanis banter]

Even after Inner Demon is complete, he claims to be “a real monster” as an abomination, showing two potential things: 1) that his shame and fear for his possessed condition is not resolved despite all the hints that tell us so [Spite less noisy, Lucanis’ magic around him is more harmonic]. This is a reflection he does when he compares his return to life as a “real monster” with Bellara’s brother [Bellara-Lucanis banter]. 2) Narrative inconsistency [which plagues his character].

Spite can be heard by Emmrich when he is close to Lucanis. [Lucanis-Emmrich banter]

Lucanis claims that Spite is obviously present in his body when the wings are shown: “the wings are a giveaway” [Davrin-Lucanis banter]. The spread of wings is not a voluntary action either [Harding-Lucanis banter]. We assume this situation is like this up to Inner Demon, where he manages to harmonise with Spite to the point where both work together and become more blended. But we cannot know, since all this may be a consequence of narrative inconsistencies too.

Spite focuses a lot on smells, and understands people based on that [Inner demons quest]. This may be a parallel to Lucanis’ year of imprisonment where he claimed that smells and tastes were the aspects that brought him more memories [Coffee with the Crows scene]. Lore-wise makes no sense for a spirit, in its spirit form, to smell anything [what’s lore?].

The Ossuary had a bad smell to the point that Lucanis claims that Kal-Sharok smells better. [The Waiting Stone quest]

It’s harder for Spite to take control of Lucanis’ body when he is awake. When Lucanis falls asleep, Spite takes control, and among other activities [such as sleepwalks] he likes to write cryptic sad poetry [Lucanis’ Logbook].

He spoke to Neve and Bellara about ways to control Spite, but avoids Emmrich since he is uncomfortable in the way he sees him, more like a thesis to study.

His sleepwalk stops once Lucanis and Spite are released from their mental prison, and this also allows Spite to start “understanding space”. This made them reach an equilibrium in which Spite is less noisy. Emmrich claims that thanks to this balance, “the magic around Lucanis has much finer etheric transfusion” [Emmrich-Lucanis banter]. Apparently, the deal made with Spite in Inner Demons implies “fighting enemies together and then having coffee afterwards” [Bellara-Lucanis banter]. This brings balance to both of them, allows Lucanis to have more control of Spite in his body, and implies that he recovers (a bit) his normal sleep patterns. We tend to see him drinking coffee after missions from this moment on [only in scenes after missions]. But then, he is drinking coffee right before the last mission, so… consistency problems again [we are not seeing the changes of his arc development truly sink in].

Spite is a source of shame. Every time he fails in his target, in his composure, in his professionalism, and in keeping control of Spite, he speaks looking down or aside, as shame washes him over. He feels he has let down Rook and Caterina for not being able to control this level of chaos he is holding inside him. For a character so focused on self-control, this situation puts him in a very shameful and vulnerable position.

Every time he is called an abomination there is a small remark on his part that shows he is not comfortable with it [who would?]. He avoids to call himself as such, and opts to use the word “possessed” and its variation.

He claims he never had magical abilities, so his possession is a rarity [not so much for the player if we remember DA2 where mages could force demons into Templars, read Tarohne, the Fell Grimoire, and Xebenkeck for details] but certainly his natural ability to perceive magic is more than strange: itch or pain in the back of his eyes [Bloodbath]. This symptom is triggered sometimes just by casting magic, other times by Fade presence, and it’s worse when blood magic is involved. In Tevinter Nights we learn he can even have deep headaches because of it. Lore-wise, this is a very, very, very questionable ability for a non-mage character and belongs to the big bag of messed up lore we started to see in the DA media after Gaider left Bioware.

Lucanis claims that Spite is impossible to reason with, he “listens to no one”. However, along the game, we discover that Spite truly listens to Rook mainly and Emmrich [Emrrich-Lucanis banter]. So… inconsistency? Or on purpose? Who knows.

In the Codex Questions On Demonic Possession we learn that Lucanis has been studying possession topics in the Lighthouse, finding that all the information that exists is focused on mages. “Every text says I should be dead or impossible”

Spite shows a high level of possessiveness: He claims Lucanis is his so no other spirit or demon would dare to claim him. He also is possessive of the revenges that Lucanis wants to collect: he breaks Lucanis’ awakened control when Illario kills Zara. And by the end of his personal quest, there is a degree of possessiveness with Treviso, claiming he will remove the Antaam from it.

By the end of Lucanis’ personal quest “Murder of Crows” there are two potential Veilguard skills that can be unlocked: Demon of Defiance or Demon of Rebellion, each of them associated with a particular legendary armour. Due to the description of each of them, we can assume that Spite enhances and accentuates his relentless,“spiteful” nature in Lucanis when Illario is imprisoned, while the description of the Demon of Rebellion, that implies that he learns the importance of saving a life over ending it, enhances the resistance aspect of Spite: an attitude of continuing and enduring “out of spite”.

Sleep and Coffee

He liked the beverage before his possession, but now he abuses it to remain awake as much as possible. He claims that Spite can’t easily take control of him when he is awake, but he has no defences when sleeping [sleepwalk scene]. His sleepwalks frightened him [romanced scene], most likely because he fears to kill people he loves. He is a character too focused on keeping control of himself and his life, but Spite breaks this security.

He tries not to sleep much, even less in Treviso. During his wakefulness, he cleans his gear, does exercise, works on his Orlesian vocabulary, and knits strangling cords [Harding-Lucanis banter].

He seems to have a lot of dreams related to work and work failures or situations where the work gets more complicated because the situations are against him [Harding-Lucanis banter]

As part of the jokes around the theme of coffee, we find that Lucanis is offended by Neve’s coffee: prepared with boiled water and somehow ending up in something that is not liquid anymore.

After Inner Demons, he uses coffee as a reward to relax after a job, and it is part of the deal with Spite. However, this is not always shown properly in the rest of the game [narrative inconsistencies].

Flirt and Romance

He is good at noticing flirtation. It makes sense since he was raised among seductive Crows such as Illario and Teia who use flirting techniques among their strategies of attack. He is even more aware than the player when Teia is flirting with Rook, so we can assume that he chooses not to engage to Rook’s flirting due to professionalism or/and the shame he is carrying for being an abomination. It can also be interpreted as a consequence of his inexperience, so he doesn’t know how to answer a direct flirt aimed at him despite noticing it [Personal quest scenes]. Another option is narrative inconsistency and poor writing, as always.

When one of the first flirts [“you are a courageous man”] is detected [is that even a flirt?], he breaks eye contact, and diminishes the compliment [“a stubborn one, perhaps”], while at the same time, thanking it. This proves, more or less, that he recognizes the flirts, but does not engage them. But it’s not a pattern we can follow in each scene, so we can assume narrative inconsistencies.

He is confused by what people expect from him in terms of flirt or “charm”. So he asks for advice and executes the advice between a given context [Taash telling him to spread his wings in private with Rook, or Rook encouraging him to keep feeding Neve things she likes]

When other characters point out his soft or romantic side [Neve, Teia, Bellara, or Rook in scenes or banter] he does not shy away from recognising it. Teia would tease him claiming that he is showing a soft heart, to which he would not care to respond. Neve and Bellara make remarks about his romance [with Rook or Neve] that he takes without a hint of fluster, nervousness, or anything else but a “fact”. With a romanced Rook, Neve would easily make him confess that Rook is good for him without any coyness [Neve-Lucanis Banter, Taash-Lucanis banter, and Bellara-Lucanis banter]. He reinforces his confusion about what Rook sees in him, but he accepts it anyway and doesn’t shy away from openly claiming that Rook makes him happy. We can interpret that despite not being sure what to offer as flirting or charm to his Love Interest, he is not shy about it, and embraces his relationship openly.

Whenever he tries to imply any sense of seduction or flirting, he always adds a line “I hope”, or “I suppose”, reinforcing the concept that he has no idea what’s he is doing when it comes to seduction or flirt; hence why he picks any suggestion given by Rook or Taash. For example: he tried to compare the technique of killing mages to a dance or a seduction, but ended up not being sure about the latter.

Apparently, he has a romantic, sentimental side. He describes coffee blends like a goodbye kiss, bitter and sweet, while a first kiss is sweet like honey and intriguing like lavender cream. He also seems to understand that “on the matter of the heart one must be discerning”. When Rook questions what matters most for him, his answer is more sentimental than what we could expect: the people he cares about. [“You never thought about changing the course of your life? Change for the things that matter to you?” “Perhaps what matters is who I am with”]

He prefers to read romance [Harding-Lucanis banter] which fits with what was explained above.

Lucanis admits that Rook’s/Neve’s relationship is his first one, and he had an attempt to get romantic attention from Viago, but it was ignored [Emmerich-Lucanis banter]. He had given him a dagger as a present.

Lucanis’ Logbook

From this series of codices, we can infer he really likes making and following schedules. He exercises, maintains his weapons, and prepares meals as a way to avoid falling asleep [all this is confirmed later via banter too]. He has regular meetings with other party members to talk about the mission they are working on [Bellara, Neve, Harding, and Emmrich] or about Crows [Taash]. He also spends part of his time “studying”. Even if the logbooks don’t say what he is particularly studying, we can infer in the codex Questions On Demonic Possession that he is searching for answers about his possessed condition.

He is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of cycle day-night in the Lighthouse, comparing it to the timeless sense of the Ossuary [Lucanis's Logbook, 1 ].

At times, the logbooks break the schedule, and we can read exactly where Lucanis fell asleep and Spite continued writing. Spite seems to cryptically refer to something which is “a piece cut from the whole” [using playful wording], a protection cage with golden stranded weaves. Spite also draws decagonal diagrams [Lucanis's Logbook, 2 ]. My personal interpretation is Spite’ call for help since he is still in the mental Ossuary, trapped in a cage that means some protection. The “piece cut from the whole” may have some reference about the fragmented state in which Spite and Lucanis are at this point, but also may have some potential interpretation of Spite being part of a “whole” previous to his torture at Zara’s hand. This second interpretation is linked with the second poetry that Spite writes in the Logbook 3.

As Lucanis said in the quest “Coffee with the Crows”, the smells and tastes are the things that bring the strongest memories, and we also find this aspect in Spite, who seems to smell something from the “beyond” and remembers with burning pain [grieves?] his time before being twisted and tortured [Lucanis's Logbook, 3 ]. He claims he was “infinity”, not a shade, not a claw in a gut [which may be how he sees himself in Lucanis’ body: a painful sharp claw hooked in his guts]. Basically, we read in a cryptic way how Spite mourns his own change due to torture, his twisted present, and even maybe his effect on his host. Spite is as hurt in this situation as Lucanis is with his possession.

In Lucanis's Logbook, 4 we can see that Lucanis finds more clarity in the presence of Rook [“It is an hour found. An hour more clear than any other”].

If Miranthous was saved, Lucanis focuses on studying ways to recover his city while reading about possession in a very intense way. Thanks to the unique scene we obtain in this path, we know that Lucanis is determined to find a way to separate Spite from his body [Lucanis's Logbook, 5 ] and by contrast with a Lucanis whose city was saved, we can infer that the mental Ossuary was never solved, and his body is a constant battlefield for control between himself and Spite.

If Treviso was saved [Lucanis's Logbook, 5 ], Lucanis does not read about possession, and instead, we find another poem by Spite who seems to appreciate Lucanis and the sensations of his body [the wiggling toes while drinking coffee], while at the same time, he uses 2 interesting words: a small shade, repeated from the previous poem, and a “wounded spirit”, which seems to imply Spite is seeing himself as such, and not entirely as a demon. However, the small shade was a description already used in his previous poem that seemed to imply Spite, so the wounded spirit is Lucanis? If we assume these writers are using the word “spirit” as synonymous of “soul” [it would not surprise me, considering how careless and messy they are with the lore in general] this wounded spirit could also be understood as Lucanis, since a possessed person always gets “wounded/scarred” and easy to possess later if they managed a solution [but all this is real DA lore that I doubt these writers truly considered]. In this poem Spite repeats the concept of Infinite, as this original source he mourns to not to belong to anymore, but instead of a Cage, he describes a Shelter now [Lucanis’ mind is now a shelter?], and then a Storm, which may have a cheap “foreshadowing” implication with the last chapter of the game. In any case, we can read here a calmer Spite, and this last logbook even leaves a bit open the interpretation that a path for Spite to become Determination again, or being a bit closer to it, is possible.

Others

He claims he only knows how to solve problems with knives. [Bellara-Lucanis banter] which explains how difficult it is for him to work around non-death related situations or romantic ones [after all, his interest in Viago was also “solved” with a knife].

Lucanis may divide people as three different kinds: Enemies, contracts, and family [Inner Demon]. It’s clear over time that family is a broad concept for him, since it would eventually include his love interest and the team.

He doesn’t seem to be fond of promises or do not trust them [Coffee with the Crows]. This may be related to his vision of life and death, since everything is destined to die and fade, same as promises.

He has never been in Ferelden despite the Crows taking contracts from all over Thedas. He explains that since the Fifth Blight they don’t work there anymore because of Loghain. He adds that House Arainai embarrassed themselves so much that the Crows buried six different Eight Talons—probably a soft reference to Zevran and his assassinations of the guildmasters that followed years later after the end of DAO—[Harding-Lucanis banter].

He has a snake pet [Tassh-Lucanis banter]. It’s not clear if this comment is a real fact, and he has a snake as a pet or he is referring to Illario, to whom he describes as a snake a couple of times after the discovery of his treason.

He liked wyverns as a boy. He was not aware that they could be kept as pets until Harding narrates a bit about what we played in DA2: Mark of the Assassin . He considers that keeping a wyvern cannot be worse than keeping Illario. He took contracts in Orlais but never in the countryside, so he laments not having taken a target and disposing of the body as bait to watch wyverns closer [Harding-Lucanis banter].

If the resolution of the quest that describes an affair between a Venatori and a Crow ends up killing the lovers, he will say “tragic end, but a Crow’s heart is pledged to Antiva”, which may justify why he is locked out of romance if Treviso is not saved [ironically, only for Rook, he has no problems with Neve; narrative inconsistency, I suppose].

During the extended version of Lucanis’ quest [shopping with Lucanis] we learn that he has expensive tastes. He acknowledges that he lived a very comfortable life before the Ossuary, which is quite clear once we see the Villa Dellamorte.

[coffee-in-rain]

this vulnerable Hannibal ramble has a happy ending. i promise. ♡

don't think about Hannibal noticing cancer symptoms a few months post-fall. specifically, bladder cancer. don't think about Hannibal hiding this from Will because they're on the run after nearly being caught. don't think about Hannibal getting shot in his pelvis during their escape and collapsing to the ground. don't think about Will carrying Hannibal (who whimpers against Will's neck with each abrupt jostle of his body) to safety towards a getaway car. desperately trying to stop the bleeding. finding a small emergency clinic and holding the doctor at gunpoint until Hannibal's wound is tended to.

don't think about Will discovering the news of Hannibal's stage 3 bladder cancer because the doctor states there's no point in saving Hannibal, who only has a few months to live at most. don't think about Will's entire world crumbling in that instance. seeing Hannibal's limp body on the operating table. thinking back to all the times Hannibal winced upon sitting with a full belly after dinner (because it put more pressure on his bladder) and how he would discreetly leave to change into a more comfortable pair of pants or shift in discomfort. don't think about Will passing it off as simple weight gain. then thinking back to the moments when Hannibal would spend long periods of time in the bathroom (scrubbing down the bathroom to limit Will's chance of finding traces of blood in the toilet. or simply straining to urinate).

don't think about Will confronting Hannibal once he's conscious. don't think about Hannibal's face crumpling because he's scared this'll be Will's motivation to leave; to go back to his old life now that Hannibal's is coming to an end. don't think about Hannibal spending these last few months knowing something was wrong; having an inkling there was probably a tumor growing around the area of his groin. yet having no means to get a diagnosis. not without the risk of being caught. not without the risk of losing Will. don't think about Hannibal begging Will to leave; to do the complete opposite of what he truly wants during his last few months of living. because Hannibal doesn't want Will to witness his rapid decline.

don't think about Hannibal and Will crying in each other's arms. don't think about them both having to accept their fate. don't think about Hannibal still attempting to be intimate with Will even as the act of orgasming results in agony instead of pleasure; how it feels like the muscles in his bladder are about to rupture the very last time he's intimate with Will. how he cries out of fear of disappointing Will any further. because he wants it too (this emotional and physical connection) and is disappointed in himself. and he wants to feel a sense of normalcy that he'll never have again. don't think about Will reassuring Hannibal with tender kisses and gentle words. stating sex isn't necessary. not if it only serves to bring Hannibal more and more pain.

don't think about Hannibal being in the bathroom one night and Will waking to an empty bed. finding Hannibal sitting on the toilet instead of standing. exhausted and on the verge of tears (because he needs to relieve the pressure in his bladder and urinate, but the tumor has doubled in size and is causing a blockage). don't think about Hannibal finally breaking down upon seeing Will because the discomfort is rising and his bladder feels as if it's about to explode. don't think about Will rushing to lay Hannibal on the floor and inserting a catheter. whispering frantic apologies and words of reassurance when Hannibal sobs and whimpers from the pain. hugging Hannibal once it's inserted and the pressure eventually abates. rubbing Hannibal's distended abdomen and bladder in soothing circles. don't think about Hannibal having to wear a catheter 24/7 during his last month of life.

don't think about Hannibal waking Will up in the middle of the night. because he knows he doesn't have much time left. don't think about Will awakening to an unfamiliar shift in Hannibal's tone: frail and tinged with fear and desperation for Will. don't think about Will holding Hannibal until the very end. don't think about Will falling asleep with Hannibal's limp body cradled to his chest. don't think about Will living alone for months on end. don't think about Will one day falling asleep in their large bed and somehow time traveling in the past; ending up at the cliff house with this past version of Hannibal (who's just entered the house with Will frozen in place in the driveway because all he can see is the back of Hannibal's head).

don't think about Will's voice breaking when he chokes out a whisper of Hannibal's name. don't think about Hannibal stopping mid-step because hearing his name fall from Will's mouth still feels foreign and it's all he's ever wanted. don't think about all the emotions warring inside Will's mind. don't think about Will striding across the room, hands shaking as he pulls Hannibal into a fierce embrace. don't think about Will whispering the words: "i've missed you so damn much." or even: "hi, baby." because he's overcome with emotion at having a second chance.

(i'll admit that i did in fact type this all out while listening to 'I Bet On Losing Dogs' by Mitski lol. it is perfect inspiration though. because you guys... imagine Will blinking past tears and thinking "i've got my baby back" and being so happy to reunite with Hannibal).

don't think about Will kissing Hannibal with a frenzied desperation and picking Hannibal up to take him to bed. don't think about Hannibal gasping into Will's mouth and feeling nervous and excited all at once. because this is all he's wanted for the last three years. don't think about Will realizing he shouldn't rush this (no matter how overwhelming it feels to be blessed with a second chance) because this is technically Hannibal's first time (even though Will is now familiar with every inch of Hannibal's body and knows what makes him gasp and writhe and tremble with pleasure).

don't think about Will noticing the familiar pinched expression twisting Hannibal's features with visible worry and nervousness. the same expression Will witnessed months ago during their last intimate night together; when Hannibal worried he'd disappointed Will; when Hannibal's agony drowned out every trace of pleasure that Will was desperate to wring out from his weak and easily fatigued body; when it became apparent Hannibal had endured this discomfort for Will's satisfaction. don't think about Will realizing this time that Hannibal's discomfort and apprehension is due to being touch-starved and that he's nervous about climaxing too soon. that it'll disappoint Will.

Will feels the complete opposite of disappointment and wants to witness Hannibal succumb to every pleasurable sensation. even if it ends sooner than Hannibal wants.

imagine Will eating Hannibal out with sheer tenderness. relentless and fluid arcs of his swirling tongue and drawn out suckles. imagine Will's hand reaching between Hannibal's spread legs and wrapping around his throbbing cock. imagine Hannibal's flushed face buried in the bed sheets, fingers clawing at the comforter for stability because he never expected his first time with Will to be like this. imagine Hannibal on the verge of sobbing because it's too much; too foreign of a sensation; being touched and coaxed towards a rapidly approaching climax by a skilled mouth and a steady hand. being worshipped by Will after enduring years of forced celibacy.

imagine Will clutching one of Hannibal's trembling hands and reminding Hannibal it's okay to come; that he doesn't have to wait any longer; that he deserves this. imagine Will's thumb smoothing over Hannibal's twitching knuckles. Will's tongue diving back in between Hannibal's red and chafed cheeks. Hannibal's movements and whimpers bordering on frantic as he thrusts into the calloused cage of Will's fist until he's ultimately overcome by a breath-stealing climax.

imagine Will cherishing this moment with his entire heart. knowing he was once again able to bring Hannibal over the threshold of desperation and into the pleasure of release without any trace of pain. something he hasn't been able to do in a very long time.

imagine Will kissing every inch of Hannibal's sweaty skin. leading Hannibal (who's legs are shaking, rendering him off balance) into the shower. washing Hannibal's hair and body with gentle touches. kissing away Hannibal's silent tears of overwhelm. washing Hannibal's back. kissing Hannibal's nape and the Verger brand. wrapping his arms around Hannibal's waist. hands trailing over the thick hair curling over Hannibal's groin; right around the area of Hannibal's bladder; searching for any signs of discomfort. feeling his heart skip a beat when Hannibal's breath hitches; out of overwhelm or pain, he can't be sure and doesn't dare to ask. not wanting to break the peace of this moment. not wanting to alarm Hannibal (who finally seems to have everything he's ever wanted). it's a long-awaited moment Will can't bear to ruin for Hannibal. not right now.

it prompts Will to make a spur of the moment decision that they should leave as soon as possible; flee to another country where Hannibal can get screened for signs of bladder cancer or any other anomalies. when Hannibal eventually questions Will's motives for a finding nearby doctor, he makes an excuse that it's a simple precaution; that it's because Hannibal hasn't been to a doctor in three years. imagine if in this universe, Hannibal's bladder cancer is caught and treated early. imagine if in this universe, Will and Hannibal get their happily ever after. something Will never takes for granted. even during arguments or disagreements.

[sleepymoonlady]

Roevember Day 19: Temper

"This must be important business indeed. Though if it concerns anything so underhand as an assassination, I fear I can be of little help."

Even as the negotiations were well underway, Rose still repeated Lolorito's glib little jab to herself over and over again, gritting her teeth all the while. It had been two years since that fateful night--the Bloody Banquet, in all its infamy. Two years since the Scions were disgraced and very nearly wiped out, all unwitting and unwilling pawns in a game of chess played by two warring factions of Ul'dah's Syndicate.

She had accepted--bitterly--that Lolorito's bargain was better for the stability of Ul'dah than the vengeance she had been craving since that night. Well, that wasn't entirely true: she had accepted that Raubahn, Alphinaud, and Nanamo all arrived at that conclusion. And out of respect for the wishes of her friends and closest allies, she stood down. But it never sat right with her. Even after he--through Hancock--furnished the Scions' efforts in Othard with a base of operations and more gil than they could spend. Even after Nanamo had come to Rose and told her that they needed his help, for the sake of Ala Mhigo and Ul'dah both. Rose was a woman of many talents, but neither forgiving nor forgetting were chief among them.

Ever since she was a child--even before she lied about her age to debut as a gladiator on the Bloodsands--she had been a person of action. She loathed passivity, couldn't stand to sit by and watch, and had never been good at forgiving--or at forgetting. She solved her problems, more often than not, by beating them into submission. But the problem of Lolorito--that opportunistic little shite--was off-limits. NOBODY should be above justice. But somehow, he kept managing to be just that. Even Thordan and his lackeys weren't.

She needed something. Anything. Some kind of closure. So when the meeting came to a close, she said she needed to speak with him in private. She concocted some kind of lie that felt right in the moment--damn if she remembered what it was. Something about discussing further contributions to the East Aldenard Trading Company no doubt. As Nanamo left the room, Rose kneeled down to be... closer to Lolorito's eye-level, at least. The man turned on his stool to face her.

"I must admit, champion, I'm curious to hear your idea," he said, with that smug half-smile that never seemed to leave his face--or his voice. "I didn't think you had much of a mind for business." Rose felt the anger that had been festering in her chest rising--gods, how did she expect to talk to this little fucker? She had forgotten how infuriating it was--he spoke at you, not to you. You were never his bloody equal. Did he even know that she had helped run her mums' shop growing up? That she had to learn arithmetic just to help them make ends meet? Not much of a mind for business, indeed. If fuckers like him weren't so greedy, maybe things would have been less tight growing up--THEN she wouldn't need a "mind for business."

"Honestly I rather thought it was too complicated a topic--"

Lolorito's next backhanded observation was ended--rather abruptly, too--by Rose's gauntleted fist crashing into his jaw with a sickening crack, sending him flying off the stool and across the room. Before she knew what she was doing--before she could even consider the consequences--she bounded over the table and pinned him to the ground with her left arm, before raising her right in preparation for another blow.

"I am SICK and BLOODY TIRED of this GODS-DAMNED CHARADE, LOLORITO," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"Have you LOST your MIND?" Came the retort from the merchant, spoken laboriously through a broken jaw. "Have you not thought of the CONSEQUENCES of assaulting a member of the Syndicate!? I'll have you--"

"SHUT UP!" Rose punctuated her demand with a raise of her fist. Her mind spun as she stared down Lolorito. This man KNEW what was going to happen that night. He could have stopped it, showed his hand earlier, anything. But he didn't. He didn't. Did he have ANY idea what he did? What that night had cost!?

Thancred couldn't use magic anymore.

Shtola lost her sight.

Min...

Rose's fist began to shake as she remembered. As she turned the sentence over and over again in her head, still afraid to say it to herself after all this time.

Why her? Why couldn't it have been someone else?

Why not HIM?

Shakily, she finally spoke again. "Her Grace has decided that you're better off to her--to us--alive, Lolorito. Out of respect for her, I've kept my peace all this time."

"But make no mistake, you miserable little shite:" As Rose spoke these next words, the fury in her voice could have shattered stone, and the hatred in her eyes--a hatred only the likes of Gaius, Thordan, or Zenos had seen before--shone brightly enough to melt through steel.

"The second you outlive your usefulness to her? The bloody MOMENT I even BEGIN to suspect that you're harboring any foolish delusions beyond your station?

I will personally deliver you to Thal."

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