#and lo and behold i have made my peace with this decision

[army-of-bee-assassins]

also even tho it's spring break i still have to work two days in the clinic office and one of my supervisors emailed this morning to ask if i could come in monday instead of friday bc of scheduling issues with someone else and i said yes. and like. i think this is a good decision bc then after wednesday (the other day i work) i can just enjoy the rest of my spring break instead of enjoying my spring break early and then having to like go back to work. but it means i have to wake up early tomorrow when i originally thought i wouldn't have to and that does make me sad

[breaddippedinorangejuice]

Afterlight

-in which you're the ex of an infamous baseball star, Ken Sato. Months later after the confusing breakup, he showed up in front of your home, begging for you. All of it in his vulnerable and drunken state.

words: 2,219 tags: second chance

The cold, harsh breeze had brushed on your skin, urging your body hairs to stand in itself. No warmth to reach out to or comfort you. You winced, eyes closed and contemplating if it's time to retreat to the warmth of your home. At least the warmth of the electronics gave. You stood up, decisions made in your mind, holding the railing of your balcony as you gaze at the sea of glowing orbs, how each one –despite their difference– complements one another. Admiring from afar, finding peace in the stillness of these stars.

At least these wouldn't suddenly disappear.

A smile tug on your mouth's corner, lips parting, eyes gawking at the sight you perceive as nothing but perfection.

Will I ever shine as brightly?

Your chest rises and falls as you sigh, a hopeful and wishful sigh. Well to be fair, someone told you that you did. You shone like a piece of priceless kind of diamond he said, a star or better yet, a constellation.

“Hey, Kenji. Babe” a mellow voice, tone laced with love and affection, called out to a boy –his hair disheveled from all the training– who turned his head to his lover in response.

“Yes, baby?” his voice contrast to the woman, it was husky and, the tone was reciprocated. A slight pudgy corner formed on his under eye as he smiled, anticipating what she was going to say. Her hand found its place on his chest, the moonlight bathing the two. She looked at him as if he's the sun himself, so blinding yet irresistible.

“Do you think..” her eyes shifted to the dark sky, shining orbs adorning the vast space. “... I shine like those stars?” his head tilted closer to her, followed by a tender kiss on her forehead. She turned her gaze back to her lover, eager to hear his voice, his words.

“Of course you do, sweetheart. Just like the stars, you shine too.” a soft smile adorns his face, words being chosen with care. “Remember when I was struggling with …you know what” for a split second, his face and demeanor falls. “You helped me out of that dark place. You�� you light my way, made me feel alive again, y'know? Like a…constellation. When I look at you, I find meaning. ” a chaste kiss of understandment was placed on his delicate, plump lips, two fools in love smiling into the kiss.

You feel your heart swell at the sweet memory. A sigh slipped out of your mouth again, this time a heavy and dejected one.

Don't dwell on the past.

You reminded, though more like a scold, yourself. You promised yourself. To be a person that could stand alone with conviction, to be self-reliant. Yes, you promised so you shall uphold it. Unlike him, you're not the type to break a promise, right?

The breeze brushes your body once again, pulling your mind back to your body. An incoherent mutter of “I should sleep” encourages your body to retreat, putting one foot inside and soon the other. You turn around to lock the door of your balcony but just as you reach the lock, a loud bang from outside is what you heard, followed by a voice you last heard from a television you abruptly switch channels.

“... Y/n..”

Your eyes seek the source and lo and behold, there he was. "Stupid asshole" your inner voice spat with fury. Ignoring the displeasing clamor outside, you switch the lock to on, and turn to sit at the comfort of your living room. Planning to sleep there for the hectic schedule you have to wake up early for.

Not a minute has passed and the incessant sound of the gate's buzzer rang out loud in the, now disturbed, comfort of your home. You brow furrows, lips forming a pout, as you try to further ignore it but only such a person could endure that much annoyance. Displeased and irate, the sound of heavy stomps vibrate in your room and to the gate. As you stopped on your tracks, a breath for needed relief slipped past your lips, ruminating on what to say to the one hell of a stubborn man outside. Another buzz was the tipping point so you begrudgingly opened the door, the weight of the man falling into your arms.

“I’m…sh..sorry. hic I-I didn't want to…it…mistake” his words are slurred, almost like a mumble. The sickly-sweet scent of alcohol assaults your nose, making your stomach churn in revulsion.

“All this… responsibility stuff. Being a hero then- It- it just..I didn't want you to leave. ”

He lifted his head upwards, looking at you with glossy eyes, so full of regret, so pained. Lips parting to mumble a muddled “I miss you”s and “I’m sorry”s. Your gaze landed at the man before you, disbelief and annoyance painted your face. Still somehow, just a tiny part of you pity him, wanting to take him in your arms once again, whisper sweet promises and tell him it's okay, that it's going to be fine, that you still love him.

But you no longer do, right?

You shut your eyes for a moment and think. Soon, you started dragging the heavy weight of the man into your humble home, and at last, dropping him at the sofa capriciously. His face contorted in inebriated sorrow. Tear stains glistened under the electric light, leaving evidence on his face and shirt as his lips are pulled together in a frown. The sofa dips as you sat, resting your arms atop. He clings to you, arms locking around your waist which kept you from leaving, his disgruntled sobs muffled by your nightgown as he buried his face atop of your collar bone. Muttering about how his heart aches for your warmth, how since you left, every night feels like the stars had hidden itself. How every morning, the sun is no longer there to welcome him. How cold it is for each and every second of his existence.

How his world feels so empty without you

Despite sounding like muddled pleas to you, that part of your brain screams to your body to just embrace him and perhaps, give him a chance. And that’s what exactly your body did, rebelling to what the usual rational you would do. Well, if you were being rational, you wouldn’t let him in, you would've called his friend – if he has one– or his dad or just whoever, but you did… so why? This time, you can’t comprehend or at least make an assumption that would satisfy nor comfort you.

With doubt and whatever paradoxical emotions you’re feeling right now, your mind fogs. Tears just tethering and waiting to fall out and soon they do. The waterworks overtaking you two and the overwhelming feeling of everything that had amounted to this situation, leading to you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Ugh...

You groan, feeling some kind of pain in your eye when something bright and gleaming pierced through. As your eyelids flutter open, you feel the consequences of last night. A back pain from sleeping upright and an ache pulsating in your neck. Soon, you find the sleeping figure of your ex, his hair pointing in different directions, akin to a chicken's nest. By instinct, your index finger nudges his cheek, poking the soft honey toned skin of his, an airy giggle vibrating in your chest.

“.. mmhm..” the man mumbled before you, his eyelids slowly opening, only to open his eyes and have his vision laying on your pelvic area. His body jumped in complete surprise. It's not like he's unfamiliar with the view but to wake up and it being the first thing he see, he felt like he just committed a sin befitting of a death sentence.

As he sat upright, facing you, his arms were in a square shape, his right covering his eyes.

“I-I'm sorry! Oh god- shit- uh, I didn't mean to-” you shut him up with your index finger pressing to his plump lips. You relax your brow as you stare at him, trying to ease him up. His gaze shifted from being worried to confused, tilting his head like one of those dogs. Relaxing his palms on the soft, velvet couch.

“Let's just… have closure, Kenji. ” you uttered, demanding and firm. He kept quiet as you paused.

“Kenji.. Why uh… What happened back then? I just don't understand. It was just so sudden. ”

Your brows knit together, eyes getting glossy as your mind replayed that memory and trying to fill those missing pieces of why.

As Kenji try to explain, you press harder to his lips. “Let me speak first. I just want to let this all out, please… kenji” your tone was soft and persistent, he only nods slowly in response.

“Since we were just classmates in college, you confessed to me everyday. Yes, I know I doubted you and took it as a joke at first because it sounded like one, and hell! You use that tone to every girl that tried to cling to you. And when we started dating, you always try to act fine and all! I felt close to you but you…you felt far to me.” a tear ran down your cheeks, the salty taste reaching your lips. Kenji brings his hands close to you and caress it –as if you’re a delicate statue, made to be worshiped, not damaged– and wiping it away.

A treble in your throat present.

“Don't get me wrong, I know you did love me. I never once doubted your love. I feel it everytime we were together…when we were still dating. And that's the problem, you see? Only when you're with me I feel your love. The moment you leave or go to your practices!.. There was no us. You would go on days without contact, only to comeback then promise something then break them again.. It’s..hic… It's tiring, Kenji” your hands fall to your lap and your vision gets blurry. An inkling of pain circulating in your heart.

“All I ask of you is to allow me to be your comfort. I told you- I-.. You don't need to run away. Just… just run to me and I'll comfort you. Isn't that what partners are for?” your gaze meets his, searching for acknowledgement, only to see him drowned with guilt, ambivalent thoughts constricting his actions.

You took a breath for a second, composing your words once again. “...When it was our anniversary, you promised me. You said it was going to be the last time you run away. The last time you be an asshole. The last time you keep me far away...”

“Then just a few months later, you broke up with me on the phone! and the day after, I fucking see the news that you were in japan…And you-...you were smiling” you hic, speaking slow and bitter.

That day, you felt abandoned, desolate, and in complete utter disarray. You can't think why. He told you- He promised! How one day, when the time feels right, when stability is present, you two would one day stand before each other, the serene blue ocean, a row of people close to the both of you, would witness the sacred pledge of the undying love for one another. In pleasure or pain. In sickness or health.

“Even if death do us apart.”

he spoke softly, tracing the promise that hung on the necklace you gave each other on your anniversary.

That familiar pang stilled in your heart, drilling itself deeper and deeper until all that's left is a hollow hole where sorrow echoed. That very night, your pained cries filled the sickening silence he left in the house- no, home you built together. Now, that place is nothing more than an evidence of your past, a testimony of what was once.

Disgruntled sobs cut the silence, staggering in irregular patterns as a result of trying to hold it in. You see Kenji, head hanging low and hands covering the source of the sobs, breathing but not how he usually would, it was abnormal. His irises flickering from looking at you and to anywhere, hesitancy pooling in those eyes of his, tears making it shine like the galaxy, like the universe itself. Lips just barely parting from time to time to let out a few words, only to close for a needed quick breath.

By the time you saw him enter that state, your arms already found their way to embrace him once again. Soon, one hand covered his eyes, the other clasped his hand to let him sync to your heartbeat. Breathe ragged, to slow and steady. Your mouth makes a whirring noise, him trying to match your rhythm and soon he does.

“I-I'm sorry… I… I still love you so p-please, Y/n. Take me back, please.” lips quiver as he spoke, hands firmly close to you.

With your heart so fragile for him, how can you say no?

“Just… Be better. And stop being acting like an asshole. ”

A kiss was pressed onto your lips, full of warmth, full of deepened affinity. Just two hearts beating in sync, healing and anticipating for a better future.

In love and once again,

Hopeful.

After 2 months of being in and out of sickness, I finally got the chance to post it. I had finished this actually a month ago but migraines been hitting the shit out of me so yeah, everything totally went well. Man, is this the fanfic writer's curse ?I was also quite worried that this might seem drag out and way too extra (especially on the thoughts of y/n, I want to show inner turmoil) Also hopefully, I conveyed Kenji's panic attack and lack of proper communication well, while Y/n being the says too much and think too much. I was originally gonna delete this cuz of fear nd anxiety but here we go( ´･ω･)

All constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading my first ever posted fic, stardust! (❁´◡`❁)

[inpursuitofmeaning]

September 9, 2024

Hello there, void! Oh, how I’ve missed your non-judgmental mirror. It's been a fucky wucky few weeks. Got a prophecy stone and it's rocked my world to say the least. Called a suicide hotline, went to Co-Dependents Anonymous, layed on the floor in a dark room pondering the existential concept of one’s self, got a new tarot deck, drank my bodyweight in tea, got drunk with a friend (never wanted the night to end), got a therapist, saw some friends (incredible friends) in toronto, and am currently dealing with the grief of letting go of some things that are well overdue to be let go of. More on that after the break... It’s the darkest before the dawn, right?

I’ve recently come to realize that there are a few relationships which I must, in the nicest way possible, leave. Call it a premonition, a download, a knowing, or whatever you want. But quite simply, it’s logic, I’m afraid. That the people who made me feel like shit - like I’m annoying, un-attractive, like i like them more than they like me—literally anything short of the grounded, funny, knowledgeable, wise person I want to be—must shove off. Seriously, people don't give a shit nowadays and it shows. I must be more critical of the people I let into my life. Are you kind, do you add to my life, do you make me feel at peace?

Amusingly enough, the moment I made the decision to distance myself from them (two people in particular, and another who distanced themselves), to no longer sought their validation, my self-concept improved, and blessings started flooding in. Immediately. The universe was just waiting for me to clean house. Almost as soon as I did, the universe was like, “Oh, you get it now. Here are some rewards. Keep going this way! Here's a treat you silly little ant”. Out of nowhere, people started approaching me in public, I got invited to hang out, I felt like conversation flowed naturally, and for the first time in forever, I felt grounded in the version of myself that I've been working toward.

But, of course, the universe doesn’t just hand you wins without throwing in a challenge or two. Classic. Biblical. So, I get tested. And lo and behold, old habbits die hard, and despite resisting the urge to seek validation from a friend by oversharing an exciting piece of news (that I had been invited on a walk by her brother's friend), I ended up telling her a few hours after seeing her in person. Damnit. That wasn’t very black-cat-sigma-male-thomas-shelby of me. I was really excited to have something going on that I didn’t immediately share. The irony? He’s one of the ones who reached out right after I leveled up my self-concept. Classic. Biblical. So, I want to have things going on in my life that others don’t know about. The self-respect to not tell people everything. So naturally im now hating myself and worrying that i ruined things. But this is ALSO part of the test. tricky one, universe. youre good.

This slip-up happened about 30 minutes ago. I felt like I was falling back into the same old cycle—the one that messes with my self-concept. Seeking validation, wanting her to be impressed, ask me questions, make me feel flattered and interesting. But I see it now for what it is: a test from the universe. It’s all part of the lesson. This challenge is here to show me where I still have work to do, where I need to tighten up so I can be unshakable in the face of things that actually matter.

But here’s the progress—I didn’t tell her right away. I left it a few days before I caved. I paused and realized I still have time to get back on track before I meet with him. This is an opportunity to be the person that I want to be. This is a chance from the universe to be a grounded self. The 3D is a reflection of the inside. As above, so below, and it’s not in real-time. Everything is a manifestation of the past self. So I can return to the current self. Be grounded in who I am. I've got options. It’s not the end of the world. The Emily that I want to be would recognize this and move forward. Recognize the blip and not do it again. It’s a lesson. Karmic. The pattern, revealing the unhealed. Growth is happening! It's okay to have shaken my self concept a little. its only been a day honey. it might take a few to change 24 years of a belief system.

Did her reaction make me feel like shit? Yes. Did I let myself down? Also yes. Does that mean it shakes the Emily of the now? No. I learn from it. Move forward. It’s an opportunity to be the person I want to be in the face of a challenge. Acknowledge what I didn’t like, and move on.

Now is a change to prove to myself who I am. And asure myself in what I know. That the resitsnce is re-direction.

[gimmie-a-sammich]

To Rule Them All | Chapter 5 | Light

Pairings: Idol!Ateez/???!Ateez x Fem!Original Characters

Summary: Alexis is about to have the summer of a lifetime traveling the country with some of her best friends following one of her favorite groups, Ateez. Little do they know, there is more to this group than meets the eye. Take a trip into the dark as they navigate a world unseen.

Genre: (18+ Minors DNI) smut, angst, fluff, supernatural vibes 

Chapter Warnings: cursing, dream haunting, slight deception if you squint, threesome, blindfolding/sensory deprivation, vaginal fingering, threesome, nipple play

Word Count: 4.3k

read here on AO3

To Rule Them All masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

note: this chapter takes place within a dream

**

This trip was exactly what I needed and I couldn’t help but smile as I gazed over at three of my best friends. I don’t think any of them would ever realize just how thankful I was for all of them, especially with how they pulled me out of one of the worst, most heartbreaking moments of my life. I was eternally grateful to them for being there to help me pick up the pieces when I imploded my own life three months ago. 

I had finally felt relaxed… although I wasn’t sure if that was because of the soju or just truly becoming at peace with everything. It was a relief letting Thea and Nikki know about the ongoing mess with Austin, even if a few tears were shed tonight because of it. Thankfully, Thea’s dance party had that conversation feeling like a distant memory, and now I could feel the effects of the many shots running through me. I could handle my alcohol well, but I had never been shy about being a lightweight. Nikki and Christie I SWEAR had put down three bottles themselves. Christie’s face had gotten red, her tell tale sign that she was feeling it. Nikki became even more sarcastic than usual, and she became much more handsy towards the rest of us. Thea had always joked about getting to a point of rolling around on the ground, and lo and behold she potatoed it up. 

Once we peeled her off the floor, we made the collective decision to head to bed. Before venturing back to the comforts of my room, I ran to the kitchen to grab some ice water. Sober Alexis would appreciate having something to drink when I woke up in the middle of the night, especially with the headache I felt brewing. Damn alcohol. 

I took a sip as I toddled across the quaint AirBnB. The sweet, soft purple on the walls of the bedroom enticed me, but it was the illogical amount of pillows and the plush cream comforter on the queen sized bed that really drew me in. I tossed off my black joggers and orange crop top, my typical travel day attire, to change into a matching turquoise crop and short sleep set. There was something so satisfying to me about a good matching set, even if my mother said it made me bougie. It was better than all the trafficked comments, I guess.

I walked into the attached bathroom and sighed. The exhaustion of the last couple of months was definitely showing on my face. I just looked… tired. I had done my best to make sure I continued to stay the upbeat, fun loving version of myself, but recent events had really taken its toll. The colors in my eyes were muddled together instead of being separated in their typical rings of blue, green, and brown. The bags underneath were definitely getting darker, something I noticed more clearly once I had washed off my makeup. I sighed before haphazardly braiding and oiling my long strawberry blonde hair out of my face and made my way into the cozy mess of pillows and blankets. 

I relaxed in, snuggling into the large body pillow and letting the softness take me in quickly. Sleep usually eluded me, especially recently. Thankfully, Christie’s thirst traps kept me occupied while the thoughts in my brain calmed down.

“JEEZUS CHRISTIE!” I screamed at a particularly spicy one of San and Wooyoung dancing on stage. I could hear her cackling from across the house and could just imagine her hiding behind a pillow. Damn chaos goblin was going after all of us. 

“NO NO NO NO, NOT THE TREE!” Thea screeched. The reel in question was one of Yunho doing the infamous Deja Vu thrust, a motion we all knew drove Thea to absolute madness.

“IT LOOKED AT ME FIRST!” I heard Nikki yell from her room after receiving a reel of Mingi body rolling with a prevalent bulge showing through the light blue velvet pants. That was enough for the night it seemed, as we all yelled a final goodnight as a cease fire commenced. 

I set my phone down on the side table near the glass of ice water. I was stunned at how quickly I drifted off into dreamland. Typically, I would be transported somewhere in  South Korea, where I would be living out each and every one of my delusional fantasies. San was definitely going to be the star of this show thanks to Christie’s relentless attack this evening, although my dear Santini typically was the main event. 

I was surprised when the setting warped itself into my room at the AirBnB. As much as I willed myself to be on Korean soil, the scene was set. I rolled within the dream bed, rubbing my face with my hands. It felt surreal, dreaming about myself in the very bed I was laying in… trying to sleep. Everything was the same, even the moonlight sneaking through the chiffon curtains on the large windows seemed identical as when I went to bed. Although, the edges seemed hazy and fuzzy, almost like I was looking at the world with my soju goggles on. A light mist was hanging in the room, softly coating everything. 

I was so lost in my thoughts that I had somehow drowned out the sound of the shower running in the background. It wasn’t until the absence of the drizzle that I felt like something was truly off. I sat up and looked around, trying to determine whether or not I was dreaming. It almost felt like I was floating in time, hanging somewhere between the state of being awake and asleep. Would someone have come into my shower without me knowing? I could definitely see Nikki trying to scare the shit out of me, considering she almost took my room solely for the shower. No, I definitely had to be dreaming. 

My head snapped towards the closed door. I could hear muffled footsteps and a soft whistle coming from the other side. My heart started thumping in my chest, fear creeping over me. I wanted to yell for someone, but my throat was so dry I knew nothing would come out no matter how hard I tried. I reached frantically for my phone on the bedside table and came to the horrifying realization that it was gone. 

My eyes floated back to the door as it creaked open, light pouring into the otherwise dark room and steam from the shower mixing with the haze. The figure in the doorway was tall and muscular, immediately ruling out Nikki or any of the other girls. I clenched the comforter within my fists as I sat further back in my bed. I couldn’t make out any other features thanks to the bathroom light shining behind it, casting the figure in sleek darkness. I had no clue what this person wanted with me, or who it even was to begin with.

“Jagiya, did I wake you?” a familiar voice said as it moved out of the bathroom light and into the bedroom. 

I was absolutely shocked at what I saw. Here was San in all his glory, only in a pair of gray sweatpants and still glistening from the shower. My heart was still racing… not from fear anymore, but the mere sight of him.  His body was a masterpiece even in the dim room and the bathroom light casted delicious shadows on his toned abs. I could make out his thick biceps when he scrubbed the towel on his still sopping wet hair. I blinked hard, still semi-questioning whether or not I was awake somehow. But, seeing a shirtless San calling me baby meant it had to be a dream, right?

San walked over to me, water still dripping off of his black hair. He leaned down, using one of his arms to support his weight while using the index and middle fingers on his other hand to tilt my chin up. His fingers held me firmly in place as he pressed his lips onto mine softly. He let them linger for a moment and my body instantly relaxed. My hands relinquished the death grip I had on the sheets and any residual worry instantly faded.  

“I’m sorry, dance practice went long… you know how Yunho and Hongjoong can be,” he said softly once he removed his lips from mine. He flashed me that smile I loved so much, his eyes crinkling with how big it stretched across his face. Even in this light I could make out the deep dimples brought out by that infectious smile. San’s hand moved from my chin to trace my cheek, brushing a stray piece of my hair away before resting on the nape of my neck. 

San’s touches had completely melted me. I returned the grin, feeling more and more at ease with letting myself fully immerse in this lovely little scenario my brain had written up. After all, it wasn’t the first time I had put myself into an alternate reality of San and I being together.  Even if it was only a dream, I had sweet, hot as shit Santini in front of me… how could I not make the most of it? My hands lunged out towards him, wrapping around his neck and using the leverage from my position on the bed to pull his body onto mine. His lips came crashing down upon me, the sweetness from earlier gone in an instant. Ferocity appeared in its place as he gripped my face with both hands and his tongue attacked mine. 

Most of San’s weight was pressed up against me after he maneuvered himself to be completely on top of me. His legs straddled my hips and thighs, essentially pinning me down into place. I could feel the hardness start to form through his sweats as easily as I could feel the wetness building in my own thin shorts. His mouth never left mine, kissing me expertly with his full, soft lips as our tongues danced together in perfect rhythm.

San’s fingers hooked into the elastic at the bottom of my crop top and tugged on it gently. I leaned up just enough to help him sweep it off me in a hurry. My nipples immediately hardened thanks to the cool air and San’s fingers as he caressed them. A breathy moan escaped my lips from the building pleasure making its way through my body. 

He sat back on his heels on top of me. At this angle he was even more of vision, his body looking like it had been perfectly sculpted out of golden clay at the hands of an artist.  He gazed down at me through his eyelashes, a feral hunger sneaking into his eyes. I let my hands coast along his toned torso, taking in how firm and strong his stomach felt. I had been so enthralled by him thus far that I failed to realize his eyes were not the usual deep, comforting brown but instead were a startling scarlet red. I took in a sharp breath of air once it registered, but quickly wrote it off as one of my damn Demon Line fantasies. Christie’s Instagram reel barrage must have really had an effect on me tonight. 

One of San’s hands resumed working on my breasts, rolling and pinching my nipples while the other hand reached into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of black silk fabric, very clearly a blindfold. He leaned down towards me, putting me inches away from that chiseled jawline and staring deep into those wild eyes. San grabbed my chin firmly while my hands pressed into his chest to support some of his weight. His lips found their way onto mine again, nibbling on my bottom lip before moving to suckle along my neck. 

“Time for the fun part, jagi,” he whispered into my neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down my spine as his lips idled against me. 

He relinquished the hold on my chin and leaned up once more. He pulled the long silken fabric between his hands, holding it taut in front of him while he licked his lips. He didn’t even need to ask if this was something I was willing to do. I just sat up on the bed to meet him as an answer to the unspoken question, taking his hips into my hands to steady myself. The corner of his mouth twitched into a quick smile as he wrapped the blindfold around my eyes. San was careful, positioning it perfectly on my face and making sure my hair wouldn’t get caught before he snuggly knotted the material in place.

Everything in my world went black. The lack of vision only intensified the pressure of San on top of me and the feeling of his hands softly manipulating the fabric on my face. My grip on his hips tightened as I adjusted to the change and embraced the darkness. I felt like I could hear the blood rushing through my veins and the sound of San’s heart beating against his chest. 

“Is this okay?” San asked quietly as he toyed with the blindfold gently, making sure it was sitting just right. I was amazed at the care that he was taking with me.

I nodded. “Yes,” I breathed. 

San pushed me back onto the bed, his perfect lips meeting mine once again. They parted me with ease as his tongue made itself familiar with my mouth once more. I could feel every inch of his fingers and the way each individual fingernail seemed to glide over my body, raising goosebumps in their wake.  His hands continued in this way, seductively tracing around my skin before latching onto my shorts. I tilted my hips upwards so he could throw them off my body, leaving me completely naked on the bed. 

One of San’s hand’s moved to palm my breast, kneading it firmly in his strong hands. The other made its way further down. The sensation of his fingertips delicately tracing south was augmented by the sheet of blackness covering me. Every single nerve in my body fired off at once when his fingers finally grazed my wet, dripping core. 

I moaned from the subtle contact, instantly craving more. San was taking his sweet time, skimming all around my center, making me shake from the sensation. He laughed against my lips before grazing my cunt once more. My hips jerked, trying as hard as I could to get more from him.  He complied, and slid a finger into my pussy at an agonizingly slow rate, pushing it in and out of me before sliding the finger up to circle my clit. He applied the perfect amount of pressure with his thumb on my throbbing bud as he slid two fingers back into me.

“So needy for us,” he purred against me.

Did he just fucking say us? My mind and body didn’t have time to come up with a response. I felt another body come into the bed beside me, the weight of the person causing the mattress to give even more. My heart was racing, and I’m positive San felt the tension taking over my body. The absence of my vision was amplifying the anxiety of the new situation I found myself in. San removed his fingers from my center and took my face into both of his hands, beating my own in the race to the blindfold that I wanted to rip off my face.

“Shh… don’t worry, it’s only Wooyoung,” he muttered, pecking my lips as he rubbed both of my cheeks gently with his thumbs. 

My hands had found their way on top of his in my reach for the silk covering. Somehow the feeling of his strong hands resting below mine offered some form of comfort, pulling myself out of the spiral I felt myself entering. I had to rely on San to keep me centered in this world since he was my only view into it. I had no clue if it was actually Wooyoung or not, but I had to take San’s word that it truly was. He seemed to sense this, how I had no clue… but maybe I did have some control over this crazy little dream I was concocting. 

“Woo, let her know it’s you,” he commanded, his voice turning stern. 

San removed himself from on top of me and moved to the side opposite the new body. I felt a second pair of hands tentatively rest upon my stomach, touching me gingerly as if debating whether or not the action was even welcome. I felt myself stop breathing, suddenly all too aware of just how exposed I was. I reached to my left for San, fumbling in the dark as I searched for the one thing I was certain of. He took my hand into his and rubbed his thumb along it reassuringly and gave it a firm squeeze to anchor me back into this dream reality.

“It’s most definitely me, hyung,” another familiar voice retorted back to him, oozing with sass. The fingers began to graze my stomach in a comforting way as the voice addressed me this time, much sweeter and softer than the way he had addressed San. “I swear… no lies here. It really is none other than the one and only Jung Wooyoung.” I had watched enough videos and content to pick out that voice. It was definitely Wooyoung… and honestly, why would I have expected it to be anyone else? It wasn’t the first time these two had made a collaborative appearance in my dreams, and I don’t think my mind would set out to torture me with an unknown body.

I exhaled loudly and gasped for air after holding mine for so long, my racing brain settling once again. San’s hands returned to my body once more, caressing up and down in near tandem with Wooyoung’s. I relaxed back into the blankets underneath me and the darkness from the cloth. The difference in their touches was distinct. Wooyoung’s long, nimble fingers were breezing up and down, gliding along my body and taking his sweet time along my chest. San’s touches were more firm, digging deeper into my skin as he rubbed and massaged his way around, before moving to resume his assault on my pussy. 

I moaned loudly, relishing in the pleasure these two men were giving me. One of Wooyoung’s hands left my body and I heard clinking from the table beside me. I gasped when the ice cube connected with my nipple. The change in temperature was alarming, but oh so delicious. Wooyoung maneuvered the ice cube along my torso, running it along every curve of my breasts, leaving a light trail of water and a cold burn in its trek around my bare skin. All the while, San was working two of his fingers in and out of me, finding the perfect angle to hit my most sensitive spot. 

I could feel the knot in my gut growing as Wooyoung moved the ice cube lower down my stomach, handing it off to San just as Woo’s lips connected with mine. I arched my back the instant the ice cube connected with my clit, the coldness sending a shockwave through my core, moaning against Wooyoung. He took this opportunity to thrust his tongue into my mouth, tangling our lips together even more tightly. There was just as much difference in these two men’s kisses as there was in the way they were handling my body. San’s kisses were intense, but laced with comfort and a sweetness that only he could ever provide. Wooyoung’s were wild and full of lust, oozing of nothing but sex and wanting.

San continued to hold the ice against me, numbing my clit. My hands moved blindly to either side of me, wildly grasping at the bodies of the men I was sandwiched between. Both groaned in unison, unintentionally harmonizing, as I rubbed both of their hard cocks through their pants. I reached underneath the fabric, taking both of them fully into my hands. I rolled my thumbs around the heads, coating them with the sticky precum that had begun to bead out, before I slicked my hands up and down their rigid lengths.

Woo removed himself from my lips and began to suck and bite on my nipple, rolling and pinching whichever one that wasn’t in his mouth with his thumb and index finger. San pushed what was left of the ice cube into my opening, working it within me with his fingers while I continued to slide my hands up and down their cocks.

The pleasure was near maddening. Everything was more intense thanks to the absence of one of my senses. The tension was building and I could feel my body begin to convulse as the knot in my stomach continued to tighten. San picked up the pace, moving his fingers perfectly, spreading my folds to blow hot air on my frozen clit before circling it with his thumb. He placed his free hand down soundly onto my lower stomach and between the added pressure, slight shift in angle, and Woo’s relentless attack with his mouth on my breasts sent me over the edge. 

The orgasm felt like fireworks shooting out of my body. My back arched off the bed while I screamed in pleasure, the only thing holding my bucking body on the bed was the hand pressing into my stomach. Wooyoung had released my nipples and snatched the blindfold off my face, throwing it across the room. The last thing I remembered before the stars overtook me completely was the two beautiful men’s faces looking at me with lustful, blood red eyes.

I awoke in a flash, the scream that I emitted in my dreams echoing into reality. I was out of breath from the intense amount of pleasure I had just experienced. It had all felt so real, even though there was no way in hell that Santini and Wooreo had actually been here in my bed. Maybe my delulu brain was getting a little too attached to reality for my liking… especially with how much of my fantasies were now seeping into the real world.

“I need to touch some grass…” I mumbled to myself as I plopped back into the mountain of pillows. The bed was an absolute wreck. I must have been tossing and turning while I had been given one of the best dream fucks of my entire life. I groaned, immediately embarrassed over the fact that I was letting a fictitious sex dream have this much of an effect on me. But damn… was it a good freaking dream. 

I closed my eyes with a smile on my face after I disregarded my embarrassment, reminding myself that being delulu was the only solulu. Maybe I could catch round two with WooSan back in dreamland. I ran through it as best I could in my head, hoping the replay would magically bring about the sequel. Unfortunately, sleep overtook me quickly and deeply, putting me in a place that no dreams would form. 

__________

“You’re behaving like you’re already smitten,” Wooyoung grumbled as he awakened, casting a knowing glance at San next to him. 

San narrowed his eyes, contemplating how best to answer his partner. Nobody knew about the extra visits he had been paying to Alexis’s house, how he had been studying her, learning every single thing he could.  He had seen the random dance parties Christe and she had shared, how her eyes lit up every single time she smiled, showing off those damn dimples he had found so endearing. Her laugh filled a room, and when that “sleep delirium” as she called it hit you had no idea what off the wall thing would come out of her mouth next. He had fallen for the fun, playful version of Alexis he had seen so often, but she was so much more beyond that. He had seen how many nights she cried herself to sleep, the emotional conversations she had with Christie when she started to fall off the ledge, and he wanted nothing more than to protect her from it all.

“You know, I could say the same thing for you,” he shot back. “She may not have seen it, but I saw the way you looked at her.” 

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning in close enough that he was nearly nose to nose with San. “I was following your lead, your plan, and now you of all people want to accuse me of being soft?” he flung his head back with laughter, pressing his index finger into the bigger man’s chest firmly before continuing. He knew that he could push San further than anyone else in the group without consequence. “Why don’t you quit lying to me. We said no secrets.” 

San blinked hard, slightly taken aback by the directness, but he quickly composed himself. He leaned in further towards Wooyoung, using his broadness to his advantage as he looked down at the smaller man. “Then you need to quit lying to me,” he growled, swatting down the finger still pressed against him. 

Wooyoung took a step backwards, running a hand through his long, black hair before crossing his arms tightly against him, meeting San’s eyes. “Would I ever lie to you, sweet Sannie?” he sang sarcastically. 

San could see right through his best friend’s cover. Eventually, Wooyoung would come clean about whatever secrets he was hiding within his snarky comments, he always did. Maybe they had both gotten too attached to this one, something neither one of them could afford to admit. Rules were rules, and their leader did not take kindly when they were broken. San knocked his shoulder into Wooyoung as he walked by to leave their room, pausing to take a glance backwards once there was some distance between the two of them. 

“Are we going to be that dramatic?” Wooyoung stammered, rubbing his shoulder from the sudden impact. 

“You may not lie to me, but you’d lie to yourself,” San said coldly before turning his back on his friend once more, exiting the room to join the others without another sound.

[captnjacksparrow]

Hey, Sparrow!

I have a question that I wanna see you take on.

Remember in the war when Naruto recalled a moment when he was about to call out to Sasuke, but stopped himself? Well, what if he did call out to him that day? What do you think would’ve happened?

We all know that both of them were longing for the acknowledgment and friendship of the other, so do you think would’ve changed if Naruto extended his hand back then?

I’m just a sucker for childhood friends AU’s, alright-?

Sasuke wouldn't have left the Village, no matter what. And then he would've either abandoned his revenge altogether or he would've approached his revenge in a better and matured way.

Let’s go back to where it started..

Naruto was so happy to find out there was someone like Sasuke who was also a loner.

Similarly, Sasuke was also finding happiness in Naruto because he reminded him of his family.

Added to that, they both shared some stolen glance and smile, which signifies an attraction and in the process they acknowledge each other.

Their entire bond is built on the emotional support they could provide for each other at such a distance. Meaning, One could stay sane or stable or happy... you name it.... just by observing the Other. They didn’t need any conversation.

After they were put in the same team, not many things have happened between them. But still Sasuke went onto sacrifice his life for Naruto by casting away his revenge. And also, it took Orochimaru's Cursed Seal, Itachi's Arrival and the Sound Four to force Sasuke to leave the Village. Otherwise, he would've abandoned his revenge to live a peaceful life in his Village as he claims here.

Do you think he wanted to forget his revenge because of Sakura's love?? Well, if that's the case, he would've felt something while leaving her. There’s no visible emotion in his face..

Also, Itachi asking Sasuke "Why are you so weak?"

And Sasuke, in his confession, saying he felt weakness because of the happiness he felt from watching Naruto....

I don't have to tell you who made Sasuke feel weaker to the point of him wanting to leave the Village so that he can become Stronger, Do I??🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Plus, Lo and Behold.... Sasuke himself confesses in Orochimaru Lair that Bonds made him lose focus... weakening his greatest desire... 

So, Naruto was distracting him, Wasn’t he??? 

To further support this point....

Here Sasuke is saying... “Whenever I saw you, I felt Happy... But I thought it was a weakness... In order to escape from that weakness, I trained hard... So that I could get revenge on my Brother... I wanted to become stronger than he was...”

So, Sasuke trained hard to become stronger because Naruto was making him weaker and distracting him from his Goals???? LOLOL.... Just by Observing him??? How is that even possible????

That means, the moment Sasuke and Naruto were put into Team 7, Sasuke somehow became “Love-smitten”???? Well, this panel says it all...

LOL... A Total ‘Naruto’ Brainrot he is!!!

So, they both observed each other for 4 years.... And their time together in Team 7 lasted for what??? 6 months max??? And Yet Sasuke could put aside his dreams for this boy many times.... And it took 6 powerful people to convince him that he was weak. And that drove him to the decision of leaving the Village. 

“It seems that Sasuke’s contact with the Nine-Tailed kid is changing Sasuke’s purpose and his soul.... Since Naruto possesses so much influence over Sasuke... I must separate them immediately...”

If Naruto’s distant presence and a bonded time of 6 months could influence Sasuke to the point of almost making him abandon the revenge.... then if only Naruto had extended his hand to Sasuke back when they were 8.... they both would have developed a powerful bond to the point where no one could’ve able to separate them... No matter how many people had tried to...

[gwynpool]

it’s 2AM and i just finished Rule of Wolves (spoilers definitely up ahead)

first, to inform everyone, i read the spoilers when it got leaked in twitter cuz i can’t help myself. (it’s a sickness, i know) i think this is important since it definitely influenced my perspective upon reading the book. also, this is my first time being early in a party so yay me! going in ROW was easy for me because i started King of Scars the day before book 2’s actual release date so everything’s fresh.

secondly, this is really long so i’m sorry. i just have a lot of feelings and need to write it all down. on with the rant.

King of Scars was wonderful to me since it gave me my favorite Shadow and Bone character and the girl who i used to hate for being a mean girl but who I now admire with every ounce of my being. It also introduced a new ship that I am now obsessed with and is ruling besides my love for Jude&Cardan. Not to mention, it gave us Nina, whom though i’m not entirely a fan of due to all my love focusing on Kaz and Inej, allowed the connection between Shadow&Bone with SixofCrows.

Moving on, ROW was a ride and whirlwind of emotions. unfortunately, it wasn’t always the best kind.

I love the fantasy elements of it (tho it was a huge leap especially with the saints power thingy) and the politics because i am a sucker for scheming and stealing thrones.

the zoyalai teasing and angst was painful but in the best way since slowburn is what keeps me going.

nina finding comfort (and attraction, apparently) from hanne made my heart flutter because i haven’t gotten over matthias but this allowed a sort of closure and next chapter for our waffle-loving queen.

the promised wedding by leigh wasn’t what i expected but i’m not complaining since david&genya deserved nothing but happiness.

almost everything seems going well (aside from the fact that aleksander was ressurected apparently)and then everything crashes and burns and i just have to wonder why?

so the promised funeral alongside the wedding one, immediately comes after two? three? chapters as they were attacked during the afterparty of the wedding. and guess what? leigh killed the fcking groom.

the thing is i already knew he was going to die (with the spoilers and all) but i did not expect it to come immediately after the freaking wedding. not even halfway through the book!

being spoiled, i think, took most of the pain from the event but it doesn’t lessen the fact that it was completely unnecessary??? like though the characters grieved, nothing much was affected from his death? also, don’t talk to me about the character development for the survivors from this tragic event because there. was. absolutely. NONE.

and then we have the fricking darling ressurected. i love him in the first book of the grishaverse though i knew he was still a villain, don’t get me wrong. and my heart ached but was also relieved with his death in the third. he also inspired one of my all-time favorite fantasy villain(antihero?) in the form of Adelina Amouteru in the Young Elites series.

Ceased to be a Darklina fan and am now shipping Aleksander with Adelina because their power tho? like clings to like and they are both imbued with unfathomable darkness. somebody write fics please.

but bringing him back was what for exactly? leigh bardugo preached on how toxic the darkling character was and how we really shouldn’t like him in terms of agreeing with his ideals and yada yada. and yet she brings him back because apparently, he’s the only one paying her bills.

his conversation with alina tho had me expecting some darklina crumbs with fan service on the side since the stans were all raving about it on twitter *vomiting noises from toxicity* but i was surprised since it just further reminded us of how he truly is a villain in his very core and would do anything to get what he wants. so all in all it wasn’t entirely awful and it actually made me like Mal a bit. (never was a fan of him but that’s my issue, not the character’s)

setting aside the darkling issue a bit, the POV from Mayu was skippable. i mean obviously it still needs to be read for the Shu politics and the khergud existence but it just made me want to go to the next pov. Same goes for the “the monk’s” POV since you all know how i feel about him and the cult with it’s assembly and shit ended up also being unnecessary towards the end. honestly, i could do without the journey of the starless saint and his cult.

i truly enjoyed the fjerdan plot to my surprise and i like how nina kind of went through the last of us 2 circle of hate journey. it was definitely difficult knowing her pain and all that she went through and still choosing to be the better person. and yet, i can’t help but be more proud of her development. also, the supposed death of hanne got me going for a second and was actually ready to storm leigh’s home to fix her mistake. thank god it was plot twist. that’s all i have to say on the nina POV because i don’t wanna ruin my good feeling on this.

the crows cameo gave us a mini heist and it just made me miss reading their adventures. also the suli scene tugged at my heart.

imma skip zoya’s transformation but it utterly made me feel amazing and i have never been more glad that she’s kind of overpowered. she deserves it so fck all them haters. you can choke.

nikolai’s revelation and decision for the ravkan throne was not all that surprising, even without my knowledge of the spoilers. i honestly had a feeling that he was always his best self when he was strumhond and he only chose to fulfill the duties of the king because at that time, there was no other choice. so him giving up the throne to his beloved soldier, summoner and saint was a quite satisfying choice of route. there has been some others who would contest nikolai’s decision to step down as something unnecessary in the grand scheme of things but i would stand by my belief that nikolai made the best choice for ravka and for himself. not to say that i didn’t want to see both the queen and king side by side ruling but what are fanfictions for?

zoyalai is canon and endgame. finally. i can die now.

now the last two chapters was a toss up. for the first one was the darkling’s sacrifice. okay, so i was also spoiled by this from twitter but when i was reading the book, i keep expecting it to be brought up and it wasn’t. so i honestly thought that maybe that spoiler was a prank. lo and behold it was not and it wasn’t until the very last end. so the buildup was goddamn awful. the whole concept of the thorn wood and sort of atlas moment was just no. like you’re just springing this up now? when we’re supposed to be tying up loose ends but making sure it had history and buildup to well, back it up.

also leigh outright writing genya saying it was not a redemption for the darkling and him being unapologetic about his crimes (basically being a truly evil asshole) doesn’t remove the fact that it still comes off as a redemption arc especially with what is now the synopsis of SOC 3 but ill get to that. he still was the one who did a heroic deed and that fucks me up because it was just devastating to me after making peace with his end in ruin and rising. not because i was hurt that he died yet again boohoo but because it kind of invalidates everything that alina, genya, zoya and countless other victims went through.

on a side note, the darling stans on twitter who keeps defending his actions, i would really advise you to reflect on your decisions cuz it is honestly unhealthy. also, you lot talking smack about nikolai and zoya refusing to sacrifice their lives? stop twisting the story to suit your toxic admiration, nikolai was even first to offer up his life and would do so if it was actually possible. so just go hide in your darkling cocoon and stop hating on other characters to justify your favored aleksander.

the very last chapter aka coronation was good because it gave us inej ghafa cameo as captain of her ship and bonding with our resident privateer and also genya, alina and zoya bonding. but it was bad because apparently the darkling chronicles is still not over and now we’re supposed to grant him death like that’s going to make everything okay? i know forgiveness and breaking the circle of hate and revenge is a huge theme in this duology but honestly, this is just too extreme. with nina it was understandable and the people she hated were born of twisted mindset and circumstances but the darkling? hahahah no. he is a literal immortal who was delusional so now that he’s paying for his crimes, you want to allow him death because you have nightmares? zoya, goddamit no! same to you genya and alina. and so this will be the plot for the third six of crows? why can’t we just stop making this about him. now he gunna steal kaz’s thunder? over my dead body.

in the end, i gave this book 4 stars in goodreads because if i ignore the darkling plot, it was a really good use of politics and fantasy merging in a storyline. i can’t fault leigh for choosing to do this since it’s still her book so i definitely don’t have a right to dictate what i expected from this. also, i have a half a mind to believe that she fell in love with ben barnes and had him in mind writing this so i really cannot blame her because i have been under that man’s charms since prince caspian came out. the spoilers i read made me more open in reading this (backwards thinking but eh that’s how i roll) so i’m not at all crushed by what transpired. it was just weird and was lackluster in its attempt to give ravka some sort of peace. frankly, i just want to read the third six of crows book to maybe find some sort of calm in all this craziness and also delve in some zoyalai fanfiction because it was a long time coming.

shameless promotion but if you guys want to check out my nikolai duology spotify playlist, here’s the link:

[gardenia-angel]

Chapter 3

𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝔀

A few hours later I was sitting on the couch. One of my hands handcuffed to the arm of the couch and my other was softly petting a cat that was resting in my lap. I should’ve expected that they weren’t going to completely untie me. They’re trained assassins, that would be dumb of them. I probably would’ve tried to escape anyway. Axel had also put the gag back over my mouth. I guess we weren’t on the level of asking personal questions.

The day just kept getting weirder. Axel had taken off his clothes and was now cooking in the kitchen in just his underwear, a white t-shirt, and a pink apron. What could be weirder than that?! I asked myself. Lo and behold, Otto and Oscar stood face to face in front of me. I watched with perplexed look upon my face. Otto had a knife in his hand, ready to throw. Keeping his eyes on Oscar, he threw the knife in one swift motion. The knife barely missing his foot by an inch. My brows furrowed in confusion as I stayed silent and continued to watch. Oscar picked up the knife and did the same thing. Although this time the knife actually could be seen penetrating Ottos thigh. My eyes widened at the amount of blood that started to pour out. “What the hell?!” I tried to say but it only came out as a muffled noise. They both looked at me a little alarmed, but not even fazed about the blood.

Oscar finally got what I had said and tsked his tongue. “Oh he’s fine, right Otto?”

Otto removed the knife with no effort and nodded to Oscars question. It made me wonder what era they were from, seeing that this is their way of passing time and also I noted their very outdated clothes.

In an instant, it was like I had vertigo. I was thrown into another vision. The three brothers were in a cornfield. Vanya was also in the cornfield. She seemed to be running away from them. In another moment, Axel was about to shoot her but Vanya has sent them flying backwards with her powers.

The vision had come to an end and I was back in my reality. “Are you ok?” Oscar had asked. Axel was about to come and investigate what was wrong but a ‘woosh’ sound could be heard coming from the cupboard. He opened the small door revealing a tube with a message inside. Oscar and Otto came up behind him to see what the message from Commission was.

I already knew what the message was. A picture of Vanya and her coordinates. To get their attention I decided to try speaking again, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to understand what I was saying. So they would have no choice but to take off the gag. Otto came and took it off of me. “Thank god, finally!”

“What were you saying?” Axel asked.

“The message you got from the Commission, it’s about Vanya isn’t it?” They looked at each other, which made me certain that it’s true. “Listen, you shouldn’t go. Vanya’s more powerful than you think!” I continued.

“It doesn’t matter. We have orders.” Axel said before going back to the kitchen. Otto went to the freezer to get ice for his leg while Oscar took the seat next to me and began playing with another cat. When Otto opened the freezer door, I gasped. Sitting inside was the head of the lady that lived here. I turned away quickly, directing my attention to the cat Oscar played with. “I’m gonna be sick.” I mumbled. Oscar turned, seeing the head in the freezer too? “What? Just a head..” He shrugged.

“Just a head!” I scoffed.

Axel had finished making their dinner. He set their plates on the table then came over to me and tried handing me a plate. The smell of fish almost made me gag. “You know, I may not remember who I am but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a seafood person.” I laughed lightly while trying to block the smell by pinching my nose. Axel still had the plate out for me to grab. Geez I wonder when he’ll loosen up. I shook my head and pushed the plate back towards him. “I appreciate it but no thank you. I’ll pass..”

“You can’t just eat nothing!” Axel said while going over to the table to give his brothers the fish, which they happily took.

“If I’m not mistaken, I think you’re sassing me!” I said in the same tone as him. Oscar and Otto looked at each other after I said that. Axel, taken aback by my words, turned back to me and scoffed. “You’re being difficult..” He grumbled.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t keep me chained, you’d see that I’m not so much of a pain.” I countered, crossing one of my arms around my waist and tilting my head. He narrowed his eyes in thought. “So what you’re saying is you’ll cook for yourself?”

“Yeah I will if I’m hungry but right now I’m not...I’d much rather take a shower..” I mumbled the last part. Axel gave me a funny look, not knowing what to say. “You are going to allow me to shower right?!” I hated this. It felt as though I was being treated like a child.

This time Otto spoke up. But this time they spoke amongst each other in Swedish. I internally groaned. What the hell was being said this time? They didn’t appear to be saying anything bad about me, otherwise they probably would be laughing and smirking. But they sounded serious.

“Fine.” Axel said when he turned back to me. I smiled. “You know I think we will learn to get along very well with each other..” I said as he unlocked the handcuffs. I stood and walked over to the hall entrance. “And don’t worry, I won’t try to escape.” I turned to say. I walked calmly away until I wasn’t in their vision then bolted down the hallway to the bathroom. It wasn’t that hard to find. There were four rooms. Three of them being bedrooms and one being the bathroom. As soon as I shut the door I went straight up to the window. A clever smirk on my face as I pulled the curtains apart.

“Fuck.”

It was a single hung window which was the type that only opens up a few inches. Not enough room for anyone to fit through. I guess a shower really wasn’t such a bad idea anyways. As I showered, I thought about what was happening with the Hargreeves siblings. I wondered if Five was worried that I disappeared. He probably isn’t though. I was just a burden that was thrown into a story that’s not even mine. But how do I know this isn’t my story? Or maybe I was just in the afterlife. Some weird afterlife if you ask me.

Once I was done, I felt a million times better. I was refreshed and ready to make peace with the Swedes. Or at least try to be on civil terms with them. I still thought it was a bad idea for them to go on their mission. I tried to think of things to get them to stay but no solid statement could come to mind.

I looked down at my pile of clothes. They were absolutely filthy. Both my pants and my shirt were covered in dirt and grime. My shirt also having the smell of sweat and the slight metallic scent of blood. It made me gag. I never knew my clothes would ever smell that bad. I had a decision to make. I either put these clothes back on or I can try to find something to wear in one of the rooms. Leaving the bathroom was a risk I was willing to take. I opened the door slowly as to not make a creak and peaked my head out. The coast was clear, they seemed to still be in the living room. I quickly tiptoed into the nearest room. I turned the light on to see better and took a look around. If I had to guess this was the landlady’s room. Opening the closet I took out a sleeveless dress with a multi colored checkered pattern. Oh yeah this was definitely the sixties. The dress itself was too big compared to my frame. I put it back in its place and made my way into the next room. This room had a slight teenager-ish vibe to it. To put it simple, the walls were slight darkish pink but covered in posters and the furniture and decor were a light cotton candy pink. I walked over to a vanity and picked up a notepad that sat on top. “Packing for college checklist.” I whispered. The lady must’ve had a daughter who just recently went to college. Well I hope she doesn’t mind if I raid her closet.

With that in mind I opened her closet. She barely had any dresses in here, at least none that I would feel comfortable wearing, so I went to take a look in her drawers. I picked out a pair of high waisted plaid pants and a white sleeveless button up top. When I went to close one of the drawers it had gotten slightly stuck. For a moment I had forgotten where I was and went ahead forced it shut with a loud bang. ‘Oh shit they had to have heard that!’ I thought to myself in a panic. I stayed quiet to see if I could hear any footsteps. Within a few moments someone could be heard coming down the hall. I was still wrapped up in a towel and didn’t have the time to change before one of them came. I dashed to the door to shut it all the way before anyone could come in. I closed it with a slam and reached down to lock it, yet there was no lock to be found. “Shit, shit, shit!” I said in a hushed tone as I held my body to the door. One of them tried to open it but found that the door knob wouldn’t budge. “Huh? What are you doing in there?!” Came the angry voice of Axel. He banged on the door. “No! D-Don’t come in!” My strength was no match for his and he was able to push the door open. I took a few steps back and mentally prepared myself for the embarrassment I was about to endure. I turned my head down to the side and winced as I held on to the towel wrapped around me tightly. “What do you think you’re. . oh. .” His voice started off furious but it quickly trailed off. I could feel my face flush as I tried to regain my composure and look at him. He looked absolutely confounded and lost for words. “Uh —umm..” I was also lost for words but I at least broke the silence making him snap out of it and avert his eyes away. He stepped back through the doorway. “Uh, sorry.” Was all he said before closing the door gently. I put my hand up to my my mouth to keep myself from the burst of nervous laughter that wanted to come out. I had mixed feelings of uneasiness, shock, and giddiness. What just happened?!

I quickly changed into the new clothes, not wanting to ponder on the thought much longer, and walked into the living room like nothing happened. They three were loading up guns. They looked up as I entered the room. I put my hands on my hips as I looked at each of them. “You’re still gonna go? Even after what I told you!” Axel looked at me, his eyes lingering for a second before turning to Oscar and saying something in Swedish.

Was it bad that I wanted him to look at me again the way he did earlier?

Oscar made his way over to me and pulled me towards the couch, once again hand cuffing me to it. “You guys don’t believe me, do you?” I sighed as I stared at the wall in front of me. None of them spoke until they were about to walk through the door.

“Even if we did believe you, we still have to do our job.” Axel said before shutting the door behind him.

As I sat there on the couch, the cat from earlier had come up to me again and sat in my lap. “I may not have known them for long . . but I worry for them.” I said softly to the cat, who stared up at me while purring. “Yeah, maybe I will be able to help them. Maybe that’s why I’m here?”

A few hours passed by before I stirred awake again, the cat still sitting with me. I looked at a clock that read ‘1:11 am’. They still weren’t back yet and I wondered what could be happening. As if on queue, one by one walked inside. Their shoulders were slumped and their eyes looked tired. Oscar has a gash the side of his head that was bleeding slightly. Otto has some fresh cuts on his face. “What happened?” I questioned. I knew something was going to go wrong.

Axel was the last to walk in, his face contorted in pain. He took off his coat, his whole sleeve was soaked in blood from a wound on his arm. I gasped softly at the sight of it. I’ve seen so much blood in such a short time. I wondered if it was always like this for me.

Axel rolled up his sleeve revealing a bullet wound. A feeling, almost like and instinct, took over and before I could stop myself, I spoke up. “You guys looks awful! Un cuff me and let me help.”

They all looked at me with their same expression of surprise and suspicion. “Please . . Let me help you.” I said slowly and earnestly. They gave in with little hesitation. Once I was freed I asked Otto, him being the least injured to go find some washcloths and other medical supplies. I went ahead and helped Oscar first. The cut on his head wasn’t too bad, it just needed to be cleaned up. He smiled and thanked me for helping. He stood from the chair to leave the room. “Careful with Axel he may bite.” Oscar joked before disappearing into the hall. I felt my face heat up as I turned to Axel. He had his face in his hand, shaking his head slightly.

“Well anyways..” I said trying to get back to the task at hand. I cleaned the wound up as much as I could. “It looks like you need stitches.” I told him. He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Why are you being kind to us?” He asked as I began stitching.

“I’m not sure.” I said after a moment. I didn’t really know how to answer his sudden questions. “Maybe because you decided not to kill me.” I said with a small smile. I finished up and we stayed sitting there on the couch. “And I feel as though there’s . . Something more to you guys than what’s on the surface.”

“What’s on the surface?”

“Cold hearted assassins that work for the Commission.” I said without a second thought.

“And the ‘something more’?” He asked. His aura seemed to be more at ease and not so tense around me anymore, making me feel more relaxed.

“I don’t know yet . . But I’d like to find out.” I replied in the same soft tone.

“You’re very different.” He said and smiled to that. We sat there in comfortable silence for a while. I felt myself become more tired again and soon my head leaned to the side and I fell back asleep.

“Thank you . .” Axel whispered before falling asleep as well.

❤️Tags : @koelu-chan @gorgeourrific-nerd

[thatmomentwhen345]

Ok ummmmmmmmmmmmmm

These last two weeks have been very emotionally exhausting because of finals and what I’m about to tell you and I don’t really know how to sum it up so I guess you’re getting the same treatment as my Facebook (this is copied directly from the post on there and was posted on December 12th for context)

(This is the beginning of the Facebook post)

You guys, I don’t know what to do.

You might have gathered from my last few posts, but I’m not okay. And it will sound like such a stupid reason to the majority of you. But I made an irreversible mistake back in 2019 that has been haunting me for the past week. This is the first time that I can remember regretting a decision this much. Was it my stubbornness, my closed-mindedness? Was it my see-it-to-believe-it tendencies? Was it my inability to learn from my mistakes?

For those who don’t know, on November 13th of this year, the YouTube channel Unus Annus was deleted from the platform forever. After one year of daily videos by Markiplier and CrankGameplays, it was all gone. The point of the channel was to remind us to use our time that we have alive wisely, because Memento Mori. Remember that you must die.

The channel started on November 15th of 2019, and, well, I don’t know anything about their beginnings. I just saw their introduction video in my recommended or on trending or something and thought, “Is that Markiplier? Shouldn’t he be focusing on his own channel? Who’s this other guy?” and moved on without a second thought. I occasionally saw their videos in the trending tab but ignored them. I didn’t even know they had such a big following. I thought it looked stupid and didn’t think about it until, well, the end.

A few weeks ago, my brother was watching the final livestream that would mark the day that the channel was deleted for good. I was in the room with the livestream on the TV, watching their final hours tick by, still not thinking about the channel at all. Just like, oh hey that thing that people were talking about, wasn’t it like, a cult? I didn’t think about it at all until... the fifth of December? Was it really only a week ago? That feels like a lifetime away now...

The YouTuber FootofaFerret released a video called “Pretending Unus Annus Isn’t Over” and I saw it in my reccomended. https://youtu.be/8SMpCbI9U00 I was like, hey, yeah, I remember that thing that ended. I trusted Foafy’s judgement because of his previous videos about saying goodbye to Steven Universe. So I watched it and don’t really remember how it made me feel. I just remember him saying that the Unus Annus fandom was in mourning and I was like “aw poor guys I’ve seen on TikTok some people are sad about it”. Foafy also suggested that people who were wanting more of the Unus Annus vibe to watch Mark’s Markiplier Makes playlist. I watched some of them and, again, moved on.

The timeline is fuzzy from here on. I’m still processing it, honestly. I think I might have looked up the Unus Annus theme (Turncoat by Michael Rothery) first? Then I think I found some compilations or clips from their videos and was like wow this stuff is funny. And then I realized that there are archived versions of all of their videos (that’s against the rules of Unus Annus for those who don’t know) and... don’t hate me... went looking for them. I watched two in full. I won’t say which two but just know that the second one I specifically searched out because I knew that they did a lot of random stuff on there and that there was a chance that they would do it too. And they did! It was a funny video. I realized how much of a fun dynamic that Ethan and Mark had and looked for more compilations. The more I watched, the more I realized that I had made a terrible mistake in 2019.

I had missed out on so much. And I couldn’t take it back without breaking the rules. The concept of Unus Annus intrigued me so much, all of the people involved on the channel worked so well together, they were all so funny, but now I could never experience it in full because I was stubborn and, well, thinking about other things this year. I could have jumped in at any point between then and November 13th of this year but I chose not to.

Monday was a rollercoaster. 1st stage: denial. I was like well this doesn’t matter, I’m not even in the UA fandom, it’s gone and I don’t care. But it wasn’t that simple of course. I kept watching the Markiplier Makes videos and the UA compilations and became particularly interested in Ethan. He seemed very genuine and sensitive and his on-camera chemistry with Mark was really entertaining. 2nd stage: anger. I was furious at myself for missing out. Those two videos I watched in full were just small teasers for what the entire channel was like. I hated that I couldn’t take it back. And I hated that if I did, I would’ve broken the rules and gone against Mark and Ethan’s wishes, which I also wouldn’t be able to take back. I was horribly conflicted. 3rd stage: bargaining. I desperately went after any content surrounding Unus Annus that I could without breaking the rules, and was still considering watching the illegal archives. I haven’t watched any more of them in full, but sometimes I watch parts of them in incognito mode when it becomes too much to bear.

Tuesday was... Tuesday had to have been the longest day I’ve had the entire year. 4th stage: depression. It was slowly sinking in, the gravity of my mistake. I was starting to realize how much of a phenomenon Unus Annus was and that it was so unique and had such a cool message and that it made so many peoples’ 2020 just a little bit better, but not mine. I then did what I always do and found my comfort in music. I put on a bunch of good songs that I hadn’t heard in a while and just... sat there painstakingly doing my math homework. I couldn’t concentrate on anything the whole day. Monday, either. The song Goodbye to a World by Porter Robinson came on and I was like hey, this song perfectly suits the way I’m feeling right now. I wondered if anyone else had made connections between this song and Unus Annus and looked to see if there had been any AMVs (animated music videos) about the idea and the end of UA. Lo and behold, this popped up and I watched it! https://youtu.be/-q-oByQWdlM It hit all the right spots and I just started bawling. What had I done? Why had I missed this opportunity to improve my 2020, just a little bit? Why had I missed this opportunity to get to know Mark and Ethan better? Everyone who had watched all of their videos could feel peace after the end, like Mark and Ethan. But I couldn’t. I could only forever regret my mistake. MY mistake.

Terrible things have happened this year, but all of them have been out of my control. This, however, was my fault. And I can never take it back. And I am having a very hard time handling that.

I don't know how many times I cried on Tuesday. The next song to come on after I watched the AMV was As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese which of course broke me even further. This song also perfectly encapsulated my dilemma. Later I finished my tribute drawing of the channel logo and felt the smallest bit better. The rest of the day is a blur.

Wednesday was better, I guess? I thought I had made it to the 5th stage: acceptance. I was still very sad and mad at myself but I was starting to realize that there was nothing I could do. I subscribed to Ethan’s channel and started getting to know him better. He’s so sweet and talented ☺️

But no, acceptance is still far away. Thursday and Friday were barely better than Tuesday. I painted my nails black and white as a way of coping. I went to a livestream on Ethan’s Twitch and it was really fun! I started watching more of his streams and on one of them he mentioned that his Twitch chat mods had TikToks. So I wondered if he also had a TikTok, which he does! I looked to see if he posted one on the day UA ended. The answer was no but he did post one the day after asking if someone with the skills required could make a mashup of the song Cancer by My Chemical Romance and As the World Caves In. https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJqgyrkR/ I was like wowie this guys got taste! And so I looked up if there was a mashup. As a matter of fact, there was one by Clem Turner on YouTube that came out only three days after the end of Unus Annus. https://youtu.be/a5RTVoreSAY I cannot express how much I love this, what it made me feel, and how much it hurt/helped. So I commented on Ethan’s TikTok about it and only a few hours later a new comment appeared on Clem’s video. Ethan had seen it! So I’m just gonna assume I was responsible for that... not only that but half of the comments on the mashup were about Unus Annus as you can see below. I realized how big of a following UA had and felt bad (because of course the people who had actually been with UA the whole way would be grieving a lot more than me), but also, comforted by the fact we could all connect over the loss of something important to them, if in a lot of different ways.

I’m far from getting over this. I’m far from being okay. I’ve never really felt like this before. I feel like a different person than I was last week. But I wanted to write all this down to let it out, process it a little bit, and maybe get some comfort from you guys. It’s completely understandable if you didn’t read this all the way through so...

TLDR: Memento Mori.

(This is the end of the Facebook post)

What I just described really shifted a lot of things in my head in a way I didn’t expect and in a very short amount of time. So, long story short, my Steven Universe hyperfixation ended very suddenly because of an outside factor and I probably won’t be posting a lot about it anymore. Hope you understand.

(art by me but I used the official UA logo as a reference)

[viktorrotkiv]

Trust Me

This fic was written for the @snowbaz-sweethearts-exchange as a gift for @seducing-a-vampire , and beta-read by @stevenuniversestolemyheart ​ (<3).

Read on AO3

*

Simon was being weird again. Avoiding him. Being evasive and distant.

Baz has been through this once before, and he really doesn’t want to do it again. This game of avoiding one another, almost-talking about feelings, trying to keep hold of a sinking ship. They survived the last time, but just barely. Baz thinks maybe he didn’t do enough then, because it feels like they survived on pure chance. Luck of the draw. Fate had tested their relationship, pushed it almost to the breaking point, then got bored and gave up, and they bounced back. Slightly broken, and a little less idealistic, but realer, and stronger. Different.

Baz couldn’t stand change. He had had enough ‘different’ for a lifetime. This time, the ship won’t even start to sink, because he’s going to stop it.

He’s going to prove to Simon Snow that he’s the best boyfriend around.

*

At first, Simon was worried about Baz’s birthday. He wanted to make sure it was perfect and special. After everything they’d been through, Baz deserved some happiness and peace. But the moment he thought of his brilliant idea, he relaxed completely. He sunk fully into planning and organizing, devoting hours and days to it, but he wasn’t worried anymore. He was confident.

The grand plan was this; on the morning of February 24th, Simon would show up at Baz’s parents’ house, where Baz was staying for a few weeks. They would have breakfast with Baz’s family, after which, everyone, including Simon, would give Baz his gifts. Simon’s gift will be a pair of jeans, reminiscent of Simon’s first visit to Baz’s house, and a hand-made gift card, entitling Baz to “give Simon Snow a makeover of your choice, including, but not limited to, hair, clothes, and manners.” Baz will laugh and immediately change into the jeans (this was, of course, a crucial part of the plan). They’ll spend the morning with Baz’s family (and maybe some of it in Baz’s room, decidedly away from his family), and then Simon will noncommittally suggest lunch with a few friends. Baz could either accept or decline; this was important in order to make it seem like the day wasn’t orchestrated. In the afternoon they had tickets to see an exhibition at a Normal museum that Baz was buzzed about; this part he was aware of. On the way back from the museum, Simon would suggest walking through a park, where, lo and behold, all of Baz’s friends and family would be waiting with balloons and home-cooked food and cake.

The only problem was that Simon was terrible at keeping secrets, and worse at lying. There was only one solution: he would have to try and avoid Baz for the next few weeks.

February 1st

Mordelia was going to be the death of him. Last night there had been one acceptable clean pair of trousers in his closet. He was sure of it, because he had checked specifically, because he knew that most of his clothes were in the laundry. And now, as he was getting dressed to meet Simon, it was gone. The only things he could find were old trousers that didn’t really fit anymore, and a few pairs of pyjamas.

“Mordelia!” Baz slammed the closet door shut and stormed out of his room. “What did you do with my clothes?! Good morning, Daphne. Mordelia, I’m going to hex you!”

“What?” His little sister peaked innocently out of her room, seemingly trying to shut the door on herself.

“You know what you did. Where are my trousers?”

“Oh, these?” Mordelia bent down and picked something up from the floor behind her.

“Yes, these!” Baz snatched them away angrily. “What on earth did you need them for?”

“Nothing.” She shied away from his inquisitive gaze. “I was, er – I was playing dress up.”

Baz huffed and sighed, but walked away. He didn’t have time for this. The ‘perfect boyfriend’ that he was trying to be was never late. But seriously, who on earth thought that moving back home while he looked for a flat near Simon and Penny was a good idea? Oh, right. All of his friends. His parents too. His siblings were happy to have him. And he wasn’t paying rent.

*

Simon’s secret phone beeped with a message. Yes, he had gotten burner phones for the Top Secret Baz’s Birthday Surprise operation. Growing up in a Normal orphanage had left its marks, and a love for trashy spy movies was one of them.

The message was from Mordelia, one of his many accomplices, and it contained Baz’s trouser size.

Also, he’s mad at me now. Can you tell him it wasn’t my fault that I had to take his trousers?

You’re brilliant, Simon wrote back. And no! You mustn't tell him either, remember?

Will you buy me sweets?

Only if it makes you shut up and promise not to tell Baz

Alright :)

Fine. Simon saw Baz through the window of the coffee shop and quickly put the phone away. As Baz entered the shop, holding a bouquet of flowers, Simon stood up to wave him over. When he reached the table, Baz gave Simon a quick kiss on the cheek, and held out the bouquet.

Simon accepted the flowers and brought them to his nose to cover his embarrassingly big grin. They didn’t usually kiss in public; Baz was as shy about kissing as he was about eating, and they never knew what seemingly-charming old lady would shoot them a disapproving glare. This was a nice change of pace.

The flowers smelled good, and like they had been kept fresh with magic. Simon wondered what they were called.

“They’re Gerbera daisies,” said Baz, seemingly reading his mind. “Now, what disgustingly sweet monstrosity do you want to drink today?”

Simon couldn’t help but grin again. Avoiding Baz was going to be very, very difficult.

February 5th

Simon picked up a pair of jeans, only to be horrified at the amount of tears and holes it had. There was virtually more empty space than cloth. He quickly put it back down, trying and failing to fold it into the right shape, and moved on to the next display. He was feeling kind of lost. Now that Mordelia had acquired Baz’s trouser size for him, he could actually buy Baz’s present, but this wasn’t his speed at all. Big shopping centres. The actual shopping. Lots of Normals around. Fashion. God, he felt completely lost.

“Need any help?”

Simon turned to find that a chipper employee had appeared behind him. They popped up like mushrooms after the rain. “No, thanks, I think I’ll be fine.” Simon did his best to smile as he spoke, but he guessed that the vibes he was giving off were actually ‘terrified’ and ‘lost’ and perhaps ‘sad puppy’.

The employee seemed doubtful but didn’t push it. She was short, with short hair, and her store-mandated vest was covered with optimistic pins. Her ears reminded him of a pixie.

She had started walking away when Simon changed his mind. “Actually! If you don’t mind, I think I do need help.” Her kind smile encouraged him to continue. “I’m looking for jeans for my… my, er, boyfriend. I’m looking for something without many tears, and not too tight.”

“Do you want me to bring you a few options?”

Simon sighed in relief. “That would be great, thanks.” He told her the size he needed, and she walked purposely towards a rack on the other side of the store. As he watched her pull out different pairs and pile them in her arms, fascinated by her decisiveness, Simon’s phone rang. The regular one, not the burner phone. The phone he had forced Baz to buy with him, so they could talk. Baz, who was the one calling him right now.

Shit, shit, shit. He took a deep breath, finger hesitating above the screen, and let the phone ring almost five full rings before picking up.

“Hey, babe.” Simon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He had been going for ‘casual’, but there was nothing casual about pet names with them.

“Babe?” Baz’s incredulous tone was almost enough to make Simon hang up.

“Erm. Yeah. No. Ignore that. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Simon looked nervously around the store. The employee was halfway back to him, still stopping at displays and racks.

“Remember how I told you that Mordelia stole my clothes? Now she’s decided to teach the baby how to play the piano. The sound is deafening. I’ve started taking walks around the garden just to avoid her.”

“Oh, that sounds awful.”

“It is! It really is. Erm, so, I tried to find a reason to get out of the house, and I’m in the coffee shop we like, and they have a sale on chocolates, and I was just wondering if you like marzipan.”

“Erm, yeah, sure. It’s sweet, right? Then sure, I guess I like it.” The employee had almost completed a full round. He’d have to hang up soon.

“What about hazelnut? Or – or, get this, hazelnut coffee.”

“Er…” Simon smiled apologetically at the employee, who was back in front of him, carrying a pile of clothes almost as tall as her. “Yes to hazelnut chocolate, no to the coffee. I, er, I kind of have to go, can we talk later?”

“Sure, I – I guess.” Baz let Simon hang up.

Simon thanked the employee profusely and started going through the pile of jeans.

Baz pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the blank screen, disappointed. Mordelia really was trying to teach the baby to play the piano, that much was true, but it wasn’t the reason he was looking at chocolates. He was trying to do something nice for Simon, and his boyfriend was still acting weird and pulling away. That had to have been the shortest phone conversation they’d had since Simon had forced him to buy the damn thing. What could he have possibly done wrong?

Baz paid for the chocolate in a stupor and left the store deflated.

February 10th

Dearest Basilton,

No. Simon crossed out the words. Who was he, Baz’s grandmother? Wait. Did Baz have a grandmother? Obviously, genetically, he had to have grandmothers. But were they alive? How could Simon not know this? He’d have to ask him.

Simon shook his head and stared at the paper.

Baz, he started again. Simple and personal. You already know how much I love you.

Simon chewed on his pen. No: I hope you already know how much I love you.

But birthdays are a time to state the obvious again. So, I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re the best person I know. The bravest, the strongest, the most resolute person I know. The smartest. Wait, nevermind. Second smartest. Stop glaring at me and read the rest of the card.

I love how good you are with your siblings. How patient and gentle you are with me when I need it most. I love how dramatic you are, and how dramatic our story is. I love that you’re looking for a flat near me and Penny. Maybe eventually we’ll be looking for a flat near Penny. I hope so. I hope we get there.

I wish you the best birthday ever. The best fucking birthday anyone on this planet has ever had, Baz. And an incredible year. And an amazing life after that. You deserve it. I’ll be there to share that year and that life with you, for as long as I can.

Well. If all goes according to plan, you’ll be reading this in front of your family, and I don’t want you to sob like a baby in front of them, so I’ll stop now. But I just need you to know that you matter, so much.

Love,

Me.

There. Perfect. Simon started copying the words from the draft paper to the card.

*

Baz glanced at the recipe again to make sure. Three quarters cup of butter wasn’t going to be enough for his boyfriend. He turned back to the counter and filled the cup to the brim with melted butter.

As he poured the butter from the cup to the bowl, he heard Mordelia’s small, barefoot steps entering the kitchen, and then he was attacked from behind with a waist-height hug.

“Hey!” He turned around, pretending to be mad. “Never put your sticky little hands on my clothes again. As your punishment, you now have to help me bake.” He lifted her onto the counter and she giggled. “Here, take this and mix the batter.”

Mordelia turned to the bowl beside her and started mixing with great concentration as Baz added the rest of the ingredients. Mordelia helped him shape the batter into scones, and when they came out of the oven, round and fresh and smelling like the feeling of home and lazy mornings and butter, he let her have one.

The rest of the scones went with Baz to Simon and Penny’s flat. Baz hardly bothered to knock these days. He had a key to the flat, but since Simon was the world’s biggest airhead, the door was usually left unlocked. It was the first in a long list of things that both Baz and Penny chided him on.

He called out as he entered, but spotted Simon almost immediately, sitting at the kitchen table with a look of intense concentration. When he noticed his boyfriend, Simon quickly shoved the piece of paper he was working on under the napkin holder.

“What’s that?” Baz gestured to the table.

Simon waved his hand, trying to blow away the question, but he looked a bit worried. “It’s nothing.” He enveloped Baz in a hug and a kiss. “Are these scones for me?”

Baz nodded. “Home baked.”

Simon’s thrilled yell startled Penny out of her room. The three of them spent a cozy afternoon together, eating scones and watching movies, but Baz couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Simon was hiding something from him.

February 14th

Valentine’s day wasn’t nearly as big a deal for mages as it was for Normals, but Simon had told Baz all about what it was like for Normals a few months ago. Apparently, they went completely out of their way to show their partners that they loved them. To Baz, it seemed kind of obvious that people liked who they’re dating. But apparently Normals bought ridiculous gifts, like huge teddy bears that were completely impractical, or much too much chocolate for one person.

Actually, in Simon’s case, there was no such thing as too much chocolate. Baz supposed the whole ordeal was kind of sweet. At least, it was sweet how excited Simon got over the holiday. So he decided to surprise him with a date.

He was currently at a Normal shopping centre, making preparations. Baz looked at the bags he was holding, wondering if anything was missing. He had bought a teddy bear (medium sized, so it could fit on Simon’s bed); a box of chocolates (not heart shaped, God forbid); a bouquet of red and white roses (these, Baz could appreciate the value of); and a box of pastries (chock-full of butter, of course). It seemed like enough, until a colorful stall caught Baz’s eye. In a clear plastic case sat a pile of colorful heart shaped candies, engraved with cheesy-sweet sentiments. Kiss me. First love. Be mine. Baz thought that some grubby little child had probably put their dirty hands all over the candy. Simon, on the other hand, would love them. Baz added a bag of the candies to his shopping pile.

Next was picking up Simon’s favorite dishes at an Italian restaurant they liked, and finally, picking Simon up and taking him on a surprise picnic in the park.

*

Simon didn’t usually bake, but since he wanted everything to be special on his boyfriend’s perfect birthday, he had announced to Penny and Agatha that he was going to make the cake himself. They had promptly laughed in his face, and then offered to teach him how to bake.

At the time, Simon had protested that there was always a recipe, and you didn’t need to learn how to bake. Now he couldn’t be happier that the girls had convinced him to make a practice cake, especially after Baz’s scones had set the bar pretty high. Apparently, there was a certain cup size you had to use for measurements, and there were different types of flour for different types of doughs, and some people (Simon included) needed to break a few eggs wrong before they could break an egg right.

So the brisk knock at the door, followed by Baz’s voice floating in, couldn’t have come at a worse time. Simon was wearing Penny’s ridiculous apron, which had the names of classical composers printed haphazardly all over it in strange angles, and he was covered in flour and a milk stain.

“Shit. What do I do?”

Agatha pulled the apron off Simon’s neck and patted most of the flour off his shirt. “Make up some excuse, if you can.”

Simon walked around the corner to the front of the house tentatively. “Hey!”

Baz flourished yet another bouquet of flowers. What had gotten into him lately? “Hello. I’ve come to steal you for a few hours.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s not the best time. Er, Agatha is here, and, erm, she and Penny really want me to bake this cake with them…. Can we please reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Actually, we can’t. You can bake a cake any other time. Oh, it smells good…” Baz started to walk towards the kitchen, but Simon quickly got in his way. “Snow, what are you doing? I would like to say hello to Penny and Agatha.”

“Snow?” Simon seemed dumbfounded. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

Baz sighed. “I’m sorry. It just feels like you’ve been pulling away from me lately. Which makes me feel like we’re in school again. Which is one of the reasons you need to come with me right now, because I planned a lovely date for us, and the food is getting cold.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the curls. “Give me three minutes, and then we can leave, okay? This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll say hello to the girls and then wait in the car. I’m not sure that it isn’t going to get towed away.”

“Erm, no. I – I need three minutes first, and then you can say hello.” Simon hurried into the kitchen and shut the door firmly behind him, feeling very guilty. “Ladies. We need to wrap this up. I told him we were baking a cake, but he probably expects something much… smaller than this.”

Penny looked back and forth between the multi-layered cake and the door, behind which stood Baz. “We’re just about done. It needs to go into the refrigerator for a few hours.”

Agatha shook her head. “He might want to see it if it’s in the refrigerator.” She picked the cake up carefully and slid it gracefully into the oven.

Penny, ever the rule stickler, looked shocked. “You – you can’t. It’s a chilled cake.”

“Just trust me, okay?” She shut the oven door just as Baz opened the door.

“Simon, this is ridiculous. Hello, Wellbelove, Bunce. Please tell my idiot boyfriend that he can bake with you any other time, and that today is Valentine’s Day, which he was excited about, and he has to come with me before our food gets cold.”

“That sounds like kidnapping.”

Agatha, ever the peacemaker, shot Penny a glare. “I personally couldn’t agree more. We actually just put the cake in the oven, so it’s the perfect time for Simon to leave.”

“The oven… isn’t on.”

“We’re using magic. That’s why it doesn’t look turned on. Penelope wanted to practice her heating magic. Right, Penny?” Agatha sickly-sweet smile still held a remnant of the murderous glare.

“Erm… yes. Exactly. Simon, go and have fun. It is Valentine’s Day, after all. We’ve got this.”

February 24th

The last week and a half before Baz’s birthday passed uneventfully. He and Simon toured a few apartments and had some nights out, but neither one had any more steps to their plan. Simon was done with his. Baz was just exhausted and out of ideas.

*

In Simon’s opinion, Baz’s birthday passed without a hitch. He showed up at the Pitch manor at the appointed time. Breakfast, presents, and a lazy morning all went according to plan. Baz even teared up a little when reading his card.

“You’re such a sap, Sn– Simon. I– I love you too.” Baz embraced him, but Simon was practically buzzing with giddiness and pushed him off.

“Open the rest of it!”

“This gift card entitles you to–” Baz burst out laughing. “That’s incredible. I am definitely using it in the next week. And this is… jeans. These are jeans. You probably want me to change into them right now, don’t you?” Baz walked into the guest bathroom accompanied by excited cheers from both Simon and his siblings, and emerged wearing a snug pair of jeans to excited claps and whoops from his parents.

*

Later, in Baz’s room, Simon decided it was time for a little digging. “Do you… this is a bit random.” He picked at Baz’s duvet absentmindedly. “Do you still have grandmothers?”

“Daphne’s parents live an hour away. We see them once a month or so.”

“And your biological grandparents…?”

Baz shook his head minutely.

“Oh! It’s one already! I told Penny I would let her know– your dead relatives are fascinating and everything, but do you want to have lunch with the girls? Maybe Dev and Niall?”

“My dead relatives are fascinating, don’t disrespect them like that.” Baz broke out in a smile. Maybe Simon’s cold patch was over. “Sure. Let’s have lunch.”

*

Later, much later, they were walking on a lamp lit street, arms hooked together and frosty breaths mingling in the air, and Simon leaned his head on Baz’s shoulder. “I have to admit, that exhibition was actually interesting.”

“I know. Robert was a genius. But I’m still having a bit of a hard time believing that you enjoyed an art exhibition so much.” Baz could feel Simon shaking with laughter beside him, his warm body pressed to his shoulder to hip. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He really didn’t. But… “Simon. We should talk.”

Simon picked his head up and Baz immediately missed the comforting weight on his shoulder. “Huh?”

“You’ve been distant lately. As if you don’t really want to spend time with me.”

“Don’t be silly. I love you. Here, let’s walk through this park.” Simon was barely listening, pulling on Baz’s sleeve to steer him towards a lit patch of grass.

Baz took a deep breath. “You’re avoiding my questions again. It feels… It feels like you’re hiding something from me.”

Simon stopped walking and looked back at him with sudden realization. “Something like… your birthday surprise?”

Baz squinted at the park ahead of them. Were those...?

“Don’t be silly. I would never hide anything from you. Not again.” Simon reached up and kissed Baz sweetly. “Now come on. Everybody is waiting for us. I’m in charge of bringing the birthday boy, and it’s too simple a job to mess up.”

Baz let Simon lead the way. He didn’t want him to see the ridiculous grin that he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Assignment of the Duty of the Prophethood and First Muslims

Declaration of the Prophethood and the First Phase of the Call

A religion that would address all of humanity and embrace the entire world was not going to remain a secret for too long. Since this religion was being sent as the means through which humanity could attain both worldly and spiritual peace, it was necessary to openly convey this message to the people.

Allah has attributed everything in the universe to the law of gradualness. Those who do not submit to and abide by this law will undoubtedly become unsuccessful in due time.

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) complied with this law upon receiving a mandate from Allah. He did not openly inform the people of his prophethood and Islam for a period of three years. He was incredibly cautious and prudent in delivering his message and explained the situation only to those he fully trusted.

We see that his decision was the cause for Islam’s success. Within the three-year period of the Era of Secret Conversions, many people took their place within Islam and strengthened his cause.

After the three-year period ended, there was no further reason for this invitation to remain a secret. The polytheists of the Quraysh had more or less heard everything and the Islamic cause had garnered much strength through many people. By virtue of this, the time had come for the call to Islam and the realities of Tawhid (the doctrine in the belief of Allah’s oneness) to be openly announced to the entire world.

The Invitation to his Close Relatives

Allah informed our Holy Prophet (PBUH) through revelation on where he should begin to openly deliver the invitation:

“And admonish thy nearest kinsmen” 

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) knew that this undertaking would not be easy. For this reason, he did not leave his house for some period of time. During this period, he called Hazrat Ali and said to him: “Oh Ali, Allah orders me to warn my closest relatives of the punishment in the hereafter and this is very difficult for me. I know very well that I am going to see them attempt to make accusations against me in regards to something that I do not like once I mention this matter to them.”

We see that our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was worried that he would be subjected to accusations made by his relatives once he began to openly explain his cause to them. For that reason, he deemed it appropriate to stay in his home for some time and think everything through.  When Hazrat Safiyya saw that he had been absent and had not left his home for a long period of time, she went to go visit him along with his other aunts to learn about his condition. Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) said to them, “I have no complaints about anything and I am not ill. However, Allah has commanded me to warn my closest relatives of the punishment in the hereafter. I want to gather the Sons of Abdulmuttalib and invite them to testify to Allah.”

His aunts answered, “Invite them, but never dare try to invite Abu Lahab because he will never accept.” Following this, they said, “After all, we are women” and left.

Organizing a Feast!

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) then said to Hazrat Ali, “Prepare a meat dish that is enough for only one person and fill a cup with milk. Then gather the Sons of Abdulmuttalib, I want to talk with them. I am going to notify them with what I have been commanded to say.”

Hazrat Ali immediately fulfilled his order.

When morning came, all of our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) uncles, including Abu Lahab, who had not been invited, and two women amounting to a total of 45 individuals, convened in Abu Talib’s home.

A Miracle

The meat in the pot was only enough to fill one person, and so was the cup filled with milk.

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) broke the meat into pieces and said to those who were attending the feast, “Bismillah (In the name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate), help yourselves!

Everyone at the feast ate from those pieces of meat until they were full. Lo and behold! What did they see?  The meat remained in its place with very little missing from it.

They were amazed and began to drink from the cup filled with milk. They drank till they were satiated and they saw that the milk had not decreased. They were astonished!

After the meal was completed and just as our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was about to speak, Abu Lahab intervened and addressed the crowd: We have not seen such an instance of black magic until now. Your friend has cast a great spell upon you all.”

Afterwards, he went as far as to affront the Master of the Universe (PBUH) and bellowed loudly so as to disrupt the crowd.

The crowd dispersed before our Holy Prophet (PBUH) had the chance to speak.

The Second Visit and Allah’s Messenger’s Address to his Relatives

After that inconclusive feast, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) arranged another event and gathered his relatives through the means of Hazrat Ali.

He rose to his feet after the meal finished and said: “Praise should only be given to Allah and I praise Him. I only seek help from Him. I believe and trust on Him. Just as I am undoubtedly aware of this fact, I also make known to you that there is no god other than Allah. He is One and there is no being similar to Him.” Afterwards, he disclosed his purpose:

“Surely a person who is sent to go look for pasture would not lie to his family. By God, even if I were to have lied to the rest of humanity, I still would not have lied to you. Even if I were to have deceived everyone else, I still would not have deceived you. I invite you to testify to Allah who is the Only True God. I am His Messenger, who has been specifically sent to you, the community, and all humanity.”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) continued to speak:

“By God, just as you fall asleep, you will also die, and just as you wake up from your sleep, you will also rise and be accounted for all of your actions. You will be rewarded for your good deeds and punished for your bad deeds.  As a result, you will stay forever either in Paradise or Hell. You are the first from among the people that I have frightened with the fear of punishment in the hereafter.” 

When our Holy Prophet (PBUH) finished speaking, Abu Talib rose to his feet and said, “We will help you lovingly and sincerely. We have embraced and accepted your advice and have affirmed your words. Those who have gathered here are the sons of your grandfather. Consequently, I am one of them. I swear that the person to run the quickest among all those who run to fulfill your goals will be no other than me. Continue doing what you have been commanded to do. By God, I will not refrain from surrounding and protecting you for the slightest moment. However, my soul does not obey me to abandon the religion of Abdulmuttalib. I will die as a follower of his religion.”

His other uncles also affirmed his words and did not say anything to displease our Holy Prophet (PBUH).  There was only one exception, and that was Abu Lahab, who had opposed to the Islamic cause from the very beginning. He leaped forward and said, “Oh Sons of Abdumuttalib, by God this is a misfortune. Dissuade him from this before others hinder him. If you are to obey him being, you will be subjected to mortification and defamation; if you try to defend him, you will be killed.”

The brave answer to the most savage enemy of Islam came from Hazrat Safiyya: “O, brother! Does it suit you to leave your brother’s son and his religion helpless? By God, the living scholars say that a prophet is to emerge from Abdulmuttalib’s progeny. He is that Prophet!”

Abu Lahab arrogantly replied to his sister’s noble words: I swear that this hope is in vain. Besides, a woman’s words are at the level of an obstacle and a chain that is attached to a man’s foot. When the families of Quraysh and the entire Arabs riot together, what power will we have to resist them? By God, we are like a morsel that can be easily swallowed for them.”

Abu Talib was immensely annoyed by Abu Lahab’s words. “O coward” he said, “By God we are going to help and protect him as long as we live.”  Afterwards, he turned to our Holy Prophet (PBUH) and said, “Oh my brother’s son, let us know when you want to deliver the invitation so we can be armed and emerge together with you!” 

“Who will Help me?”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH), who had only listened to all that was being said up until that point, rose to his feet and said: Oh Sons of Abdulmuttalib! By God, I do not know anyone else from among the Arabs who has brought something that is more auspicious and superior than that what is most beneficial for both your life here and in the hereafter, which I have brought to you. I invite you to testify to two words that are easy on the tongue and that weigh heavily on a scale: Ashhadu anlaa ilaaha illallaahu wa ashhadu anna muhammadar-rasulallah (There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger.) Then, he asked, “In that case, which one of you accepts to become my helper and vizier by following me on this path?” 

Nobody uttered a sound. All heads were bowed towards him. They were unable to find the strength to look at Allah’s Apostle (PBUH). However, there was only one person who looked very carefully into our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) eyes. And that person was Hazrat Ali, who was only 12-13 years old at the time. He rose. However, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) told him to “sit down.”

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) asked his question thrice. And only Hazrat Ali replied each time: “O Allah’s Apostle, I will help you although I am much younger than them all.” 

Some pursed their lips upon hearing these words, some were amazed, and some jeeringly smiled. Afterwards, they left the meeting without taking the meeting seriously.

Hazrat Ali’s heroism and bravery at a young age made our Holy Prophet (PBUH) immensely happy. He was not sad or in despair since he could not get the result he had wished from the meeting. Only Allah could give guidance.

[makeste]

if gran torino is kotaro's father and he took the "no contact" so literally he didn't even know he had a grandson, wow. it's one thing to knock at someone's door, it's another to keep an eye on someone from afar, especially your child when the threat is still around. so to me the "we made the decision" was nana consulting gran torino and both of them coming to a conclusion. she does say "i don't have a son" not "we". but i guess i don't my unfavourable opinion of GT to switch to negative.

yeah, I don’t actually think Gran is Kotaro’s father; I just find it amusing/intriguing that, rather than confirming that it’s not the case, Horikoshi is out here actively dropping weird lines of dialogue that would seem to make it more possible and not less, lol. but the “our decision” thing is most likely referring to the fact that he was in on the secret, but also chose to stay out of Kotaro’s life, even after Nana’s death.

regarding that decision though, no contact means no contact, period. I know it seems harsh, especially from Kotaro’s end (and honestly my heart aches for him so much every time I see those images of him sobbing and clinging to his mom and not wanting her to leave and not understanding why that I almost want to start crying myself), but she made the decision in order to protect him. not only that, but I fully believe that decision actually did save his life, or at least prolong it until AFO finally did manage to track him down all those years later. and the very fact that AFO still eventually managed to track him down and then proceeded to gruesomely kill him (because I still believe AFO was responsible for that tbh) and kidnap Nana’s grandchild and groom him into becoming his own heir says all you need to know about how serious the threat was. Kotaro was in immediate and very real danger, and the person targeting him was a man with unlimited resources who lacked so much as the slightest shred of mercy or empathy.

and lo and behold, AFO actually did eventually kill Nana. she was 100% correct in her estimation of how dangerous he was. there was no hiding from him, and at the time neither she nor Toshinori was strong enough to defeat him. this was something she knew was inevitable, and so she made the decision to spare her child from that. he was young and innocent and he didn’t understand, and that breaks my heart, and it absolutely broke hers. but she did it regardless, because the alternative was him eventually losing her anyway, except in a far more traumatic way, and with him probably not being far behind on the dying front afterwards. there just wasn’t another option. and to be honest, even if there was, even just the small risk of this potentially happening would be enough in my mind to justify the decision she made. she couldn’t risk anything happening to her child. she did the only thing she could do, knowing it would still hurt him but that he would at least be safe, and hopefully spared a much greater trauma down the line.

as for Gran, I said it in my previous post, but he is a clear and obvious link to Nana. if you’re AFO, and you know Nana had a husband (who you killed!! because you’re an asshole) and a child, and you know she dumped the kid off somewhere and wiped all public records of him and apparently did a very good job, but you still really want to track him down because, again, you’re an asshole, how do you manage it? you have absolutely no idea where he is. he could be literally any child. how do you hope to even begin narrowing it down? well, one very obvious way is to keep tabs on Nana’s hero buddy whom you definitely know about because he’s the guy who flew off with Nana’s heir right before you killed her.

(this is from All Might Rising, btw; just mentioning that because it’s technically not part of the series proper, and so I know not everyone has read it.) anyway, so this guy is a pro hero, which means a lot of information about him is a matter of public record, meaning that it’s probably fairly easy for you to track him down and keep him under observation. especially since you are literally the king of the fucking underworld, who has minions and spies everywhere to the extent where you can do ridiculous shit like spiriting away children to experiment on whenever you feel like it, and stealing the corpses of other children with absolutely no one being the wiser. I think it’s safe to assume that you have eyes and ears everywhere.

and so for Gran to keep tabs on Kotaro, which would presumably involve calling him (but what if AFO tapped his phone), or writing to him (but what if AFO intercepted one of the letters), or visiting him (this would have been the most dangerous thing of all because AFO could easily have had someone tailing him, and so Gran would have led them right to Kotaro’s doorstep), would honestly have been an incredibly risky thing to do. especially given how much Nana sacrificed to keep him safe to begin with! is he really going to risk throwing all of that away and making it meaningless, just for his own peace of mind? because it wouldn’t have benefited Kotaro in any kind of way either. what good is it going to do to drop by just to tell this five-year-old, “hey it’s me, your mom’s old friend who you probably don’t know very well if at all. I just wanted to let you know that your mother died horribly. real sorry about that. anyways good luck being an orphan, peace.”

and as for the notion that Gran should have adopted him instead, which I’ve seen a few people mention, I honestly don’t know how that would have been any better for him. either way his mom is still gone. at least this way he’s with people who are actually caring for him and who can keep him relatively safe. with Gran he most definitely would not have been safe, and Gran’s not exactly the most nurturing guy, either. and then there’s the matter of Toshinori on top of that. he already had a child he had basically adopted, and it wouldn’t have been fair to either Toshinori or Kotaro for him to try and split his attention between two grieving children, and trying to train the one while somehow attempting to raise the other. that wouldn’t have been healthy for any of them. and again, I keep saying it, but that’s because it’s true: AFO would have tracked them down. he did track Kotaro down eventually, even though it took him decades. this was not a danger to be underestimated at any cost.

basically what I’m trying to say is that this was a lose-lose situation, and everyone involved knew it, and so they tried to do the best that they could under the circumstances. there is absolutely no one to blame here except AFO. and hey, at least that’s one thing we can all agree on, lol. fuck All for One. that big dumb poopy head.

[truth-and-lies-drv3-imagines]

Hiii Can I get a lil au where shuichi,rantaro, kokichi are all gods of some type of power (you can make up whatever power they have!!) and they have a priestess s/o who fell in love with them but then one day the men of the village decide to sacrifice her and they kill her but what’s the boys reaction to it?? (btw I love your work you guys are amazing!!)

Wow, that was very fun! I’m a sucker for fantasy rpg-like settings, so I’ve outdone myself this time. I didn’t make the guys exactly gods, I just gave them unusual powers. Hope you enjoy reading! I also hope the angst at the end hits you hard, but we’ll see.

Kokichi Ouma

He is the greatest magician the land had ever seen! Smoke bombs, pies, you name it and he has it. Sometimes he even likes to use cards to confuse his enemies. He’d been wandering for a really long time and certain rumors of his demon descent started to surround his strange way of fighting; Kokichi always won, after all. 

After a while, hegot bored of his usual shenanigans and decided to try something he read in a book; he would pretend he’s hurt and reward the person who helps tend to his injuries. Except, Kokichi thought it would be better to give them somethingnegative they could think about. That’s how he earned his reputation and even more rumors circulated around his existence.

One day, a young priestess met the lying Kokichi and helped him, despite the rumors. He would deliver his punishment after she healed him, only to be burnt by the holy magic.

Kokichi was incredibly angry, but his fresh wounds wouldn’t let him act. The priestess backed away and ran; that was fairly unusual, he thought. What he didn’t expect was for the girl to come back, holding a few herbs.

“These will help with your burns,” she spoke confidently and Kokichi had no choice but to believe her in his current predicament. Lo and behold, it actually worked! Yet the priestess was long gone… or so it seemed.

She would visit regularly, ask how he was doing. In the end, what other choice did he have but to answer to her questions? He was very bored; their chats were pleasant. Kokichi might have slipped a bit of his life into their talks, but who cared? The priestess had stories of her own to tell too. Deep down, he just couldn’t believe someone had the courage to stand down and confront him like that.

Then she stopped coming. He waited and waited, but how much more could he wait? He headed to the nearby village; if only he could turn back time, why did curiosity curse him that way? 

“Please, you’re mistaken! I’m not a witch!” The villagers did not listen. They could only hear the girl’s excuses, she was a demon, a demon in a human’s body!

Kokichi closed his eyes and heard her screams of terror. What good would it do to save her now? He’d outlive her anyway. He’d just have to forget her name, forget her stories and everything else. It was much easier than to deal with humans.

Her name was stuck in his mind, even centuries later.

Rantaro Amami

A skilled adventurer, who only roamed at night. His name was well known and he was often times hired as a mercenary. Rantaro didn’t care too much, he just wanted his pocket change.

One time he was hired to protect the priestess of a village. He can remember her well, even if he would’ve wished otherwise. She was always thinking of her people, it was all she would talk about. No matter how much Rantaro wished she would talk about something else, she had a retort for him, each and every single time. Then she would be quiet and stare out the window.

Rantaro never understood that side of her. Why care about some villagers so much? It seemed like they didn’t care much for her, what was the point? But of course, if he asked that he would probably get smacked.

The priestess took him by surprise one day; she asked about his travels.

“What kind of tale do you want to hear?”

“A sorrowful tale.”

He was even more surprised, but he had plenty of those. Night after night, she would ask for a new one, until he actually ran out.

“I see. Then what about tales of happiness? I’m curious, do they outnumber your sorrowful ones?”

Rantaro was curious of that as well and another batch of countless nights had passed.

The church warned the priestess; she was rumored to have become attached to the demon who was guarding her. It was no secret that Rantaro was a being of the night who vanished at dawn and once the villagers found out, they were outraged.

He was worried; what would become of the priestess? “We should discuss a plan, there’s no time for tales tonight.”

“What are you talking about? There’s always time for tales. Now sit down, you were in the middle of one.”

She never let him speak of the current state of affairs. Did she love her people that much? Did she already know what would happen?

When the people announced her execution date, Rantaro was deeply upset. What did she do to deserve that? Yet she kept asking for happy tales, as if it wasn’t real. Just what was going on in her mind? How much he would give to have the answers.

He thought up a plan and carried it out the next night. The village was no more, the priestess was safe. But the cold eyes she had given him as she took her own life… What was the point of all those tales?

Shuichi Saihara

There was not a single person in the kingdom that didn’t know the name of the legendary hero himself, but there might have been some who didn’t know of his companion, the priestess.

They lived in the same village since they were born. At first, their friendship was a little shaky since the priestess cried a lot for no reason, but some time passed and they were inseparable. As they grew, friendship turned into something more.

When word came out that Shuichi was the legendary hero, plans for his journey had been made. He didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, but as much as he tried, the villagers would not be convinced. In the end, the priestess decided to join him: “My healing powers shall prove useful to you!” 

And so, their adventure began. At first, it was just restoring peace in villages invaded by demons, but slowly it had turned into an all out war with the forces ofdarkness. It was getting more and more stressful by the day and Shuichi didn’tknow how he could handle such a grand scale battle.

“Me, a legendary hero…? Who thought up something so foolish?”

The priestess noticed his ever growing doubts; it was time for her healing powers! She didn’t join him for nothing after all.

“Ever since we were little, you’ve always been a hero. To me, to the villagers… You just don’t realize it. Should I show it to you?”

By the bonfire under the moonlight, she would retell tales of his good deeds. Had it really been that long a journey? But it was pleasant to bask in his priestess’ healing, so he stopped thinking about it.

“When you have doubts like these, please let me carry them as well. We’ll finish the demons together!”

And with a kiss, they made a promise.

Soon enough, the demon forces were defeated. It was time for the two of them to go home and finally be happy together, but the villagers had something else in mind.

“It’s the legendary priestess! We must sacrifice her so we can be happy!”

Shuichi was shaken to his core, but there was no time to feel despairful. His priestess had only a few days left to live, all because of… what? Some false superstition? Yet the decision remained firm, nothing could convince the villagers. The priestess was pure therefore she would make a great sacrifice.

She kept him sane until her last moments. She hadn’t cried in so long, yet when they killed her, she cried so loudly it would haunt Shuichi’s nightmares until the day he died.

He was a legendary hero no more.

[ldyinblckmsk]

Always the extra, never the lead (part 2)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki X F! Reader

Genre: Fluff(?)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the wait, forgive me for being so lazy omgg. I'm really having a hard time how to end this, so I'm sorry if I just end it like that and feels like rushed. I feel like it's up to your imagination on how you'll pereceive it lololol (i'mjustsolazytocontinue). Thank you for reading! And I'm writing another angst so if you want to get your heart broken again, stay tuned ig.

Shocked. Confused. He didn't actually know what he's feeling that time as he watched you bidding your goodbye with that forced smile. He didn't dare move as if the the gravity was pulling him too hard from his seat.

All he can do is watch your retreating form with a conflicted expression as he try to sort his mind.

He already made a decision. And that is to put a distance between the two of you. So, why? Why did that the fucking organ inside in his chest feels so heavy when you called his nickname with a dejected voice as if that will be the last time you'll him that?

That is a mystery that he didn't want to find out. Yet.

He left the restaurant as soon as you went home, pissed with the nosy extras that's giving him a cruel look for making a girl cry.

Everything went fine after the incident but it doesn't mean that his life will go back to normal. He pushed you away, even though you said that you'll still be his friend, the bridge connecting the two of you is already replaced with a big crater. As much as he wants to act normal, something inside him screams that he's doing thubgs wrong and that irritates him to hell.

"Hello, earth to Bakugou!" A sweet voice makes him go back to reality. His eyes widen for a bit when he saw your face but it immediately disappeared when his crimson eyes fell to the girl he's currently dating. "Geez, Bakugou. If you feel sick, I think you shouldn't pushed yourself coming here."

"Huh? What yer' talking about, shitty woman?!" His tone rises than he intended as he take a bite on his now cold food. It's been a week since they really started going out for real. Taking a walk here and there, eating outside, and such. It's nothing really special. Just like how it used to be when they were young.

Akiya came home from New York last year after her parents died in a villain attack there. Mitsuki's the one who offered her to stay ath their home for a while. She's his childhood quirkless friend, well, technically his mother forced him to befriend her since her mom's a close friend. She was devastated at that time and Bakugou's there to comfort her, having a great sense of urge to protect her.

"Oh? So, you're fine after all." She laughed, teasing him for his outburst which just made him sigh. "You know...," she said trailing her words. "Someone told me that if you don't want to feel regret at the end, you don't have to overthink something and just let your heart decides."

Her philosophical words makes him furrows his brows, not really knocking any sense to him. "Quit the Confucius wannabe act, shitty woman. What the hell are you on?"

She chuckles. "What I'm saying is...before it's too late, you should chase the girl you really love. Y/n, that's her name, right?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say?"

"C'mon, Bakugou! Quit being a dick  and go get your girl. I know you since childhood and, gosh, you're so obvious."

He didn't talk back, not that he doesn't have any snarky remark but he just want to listen and get enlightened. "You didn't really love me." She said that as if it weighs nothing. "We both know it. What we have between us is just platonic. Your urge of protecting me is nothing but a hero instinct really. Like a responsiblity, that's all. You just thought that I'm the one you wanted to protect the most because I'm weak and you already thought that that's love."

He watched her crossing her arms, brow raising up as she tries to lecture him about love and his crooked . "It's clear that you love her. That's why I was so confused when you asked me out. I mean, what the fuck's wrong with your judgement? You're so smart and yet really stupid."

"Then, why did you still accept me?!" His voice raising up, feeling the pent up frustrations as he function his brain. The hazy, cloudy water he's looking at slowly  getting clearer as the girl, who was supposedly dating him is, helping him unravel his feelings. "I'd like to see how long you'd last but I'm getting frustrated at our set up considering how tangled your feelings."

•••

With the energetic sun outside, class 3-A students decided to spend their Sunday inside their dorm. Gathering at the common area as they ramble about how dreading and tedious the day is. As for you, it was just another day for sulking, not really feeling to socialize. A week of holing yourself in your room, avoiding to cross path with a certain someone as you try to heal yourself. It just feels so good lazying around in your room with soft blanket wrapping you up like burrito.

But, of course, someone will come barging in your room and destroy the peace you once had. Hands on her hip, the pink haired looked at you like a mother going to reprimand her child. "I swear, y/n, I'll trash you're room if you didn't stand up right now and have fun with us."

"C'mon y/n-chan! Don't let Bakugou spoil your day." You winced when the bubbly, round face uttered his name. That's one of the reason why you chose to trapped yourself in you room. Hearing any signs related to him just brings back the humiliation and despair you felt that night. "Girl, I'll tell you get over it. You're too good for him. It's his loss for letting you go away."

"Uh, that's absolutely right! And don't get me started with that girl he chose over you. It's clear that you're much better and yet..." Mina intejected empasing the word to prove her point, shaking her head as she clicked her tongue. This just lead Momo to stop the the acid user from dissing the girl. "Mina, don't pick on Akiya. She's a sweet girl."

Tsuyu nodded, agreeing with Momo. "You know they said that the key of moving on is to fill yourself with happiness. So, push those bitterness away from your soul and come downstairs to have fun."

A small smile forming on your lips, grateful for having a best group of friends. Their comforting words and the way they cheer you up makes your heart swell, tears welling up your eyes. 

Fits of laughter welcomes you as your eyes met the chaotic state of your classmates. It's true that they're really having fun. Kaminari, Mineta, and Sero are in the middle, standing as they act something ridiculous while Kirishima, Tenya, Jirou are sitting on the large couch, trying not to laugh so hard as they guessed. They really took charades in the next level. Your other classmates are just on the other side of the couch watching the game, shouting if they figured it out. 

Mina pushed you towards them as the both of you squeezed yourselves at the large couch, sitting beside the crimson locks. You smiled at him when he noticed your presence, feeling awkward, you focused your gaze on the goofy duo.

You're barely containing your laughter when they turn their backs on you, for sure it will be something that will make Ms. Joke insecure with her banters. "Hey, why are you taking so–"

Jirou can't finish her sentence when the sparky blond abruptly faces you. You were losing it, hands on your aching stomach as unsophistacated laughs escape your mouth. Lo and behold, Kaminari with his newly styled hair, split in half as Sero's tape keep it standing. Chest puffing up and flexing his biceps while copying the familiar pro-hero's famous smile.

"That's an awful version of All Might, sparky." You said, cheeks burning up after you calmed down yourself. "Hey, you hurt my feelings, y/n." You cackled at his response, eyes rolling at his childishness.

"But I'm giving you an A plus for making us laugh though."

"Well, it's my pleasure to put a smile on your face." Eyes winking as he shoot his famous thumb gun to you. Oh god, he's really flirting at you in front of your classmates. You snort when you saw Mina playfuly raising her brows, giving you a knowing look.

Another round was immediately ended with Mina shouting the answer on top of her lungs. It was really obvious when Denki held the pervert grape boy and raised him up in the air, immediately giving away the answer for the popular pose in the Lion King.

You saw Denki walking towards you with a playful smile painted on his face. You yelp when he suddenly pulls your hand, making you stand up, guiding you to the middle. You didn't want to spoil the fun, so you just let him do what he's planning about.

"Okay, okay, this time let's change our players! Mineta, please move aside." He said shoving the tiny creature, not letting him protest. "Let the princess here shine with me."

You heard your classmates shout, the girls cheering you while giving you a thumbs up. You both looked at the whiteboard held by Momo, reading the next word to guess, you sighed.

"Oh! T-that's..." Your partner stuttered, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at you flustered. "What? That's really not hard."

It's true though. The word was simple. All they gotta do is imitate the the 'titanic pose'. "I-I..uh..okay."

He snuggled behind you, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. Most of the girls are squeling, too excited at the scene. You raised your arms, spreading just like what Rose did, making your shirt rise a bit. You felt the sparky blond's slender fingers making contact at the little exposed skin, unknowingly sending a tiny jolts. You flinch at the ticklish feeling, leaving a gasp from your mouth. It seems that Denki's purposely tickling you through his electricity.

"Oh my god! S-stop it, Denki." You try to slap his hand away as you let another cackle. "Make me."

The game is now long forgetten when Mina decided to team up with the blind and hold both of your wrists. You're helplessly laying on the floor as he continue to tickle you. Unladylike snort escaping your lips while wagging your head, kicking your foot as you try to pry his hands away.

The class president's scolding Kaminari, hands moving robotically, but it just falls on deaf ears. Your other classmates are having a pillow fight that you didn't  who started it. The common room is now a mess.

Snarky as ever he is, the sight before him adds fuel to the raging fire inside him. The girl beside him is all smiles upon entering the famous UA. Deciding that it's better for her to tag along with him to help him chose the right path and not make mistakes again. Playing cupid and matchmaking really excites her.

"Are they having a party here?" The sweet girl whispered as he scans the now messy common room, pillows being thrown while some are tackling each other. The first thing his eyes land on is the sight of you tackled by the electric user as you laugh your lungs out.

You are really having fun.

"Oh god, are we too late?" Is he? The thought scared the fuck out of him. Your eyes widen when you spot him by the door...with the girl he's dating beside him.

"What the fuck's going on here?!" He yelled, making his classmate's head snapped towards his direction, eyeing the the two of them. Akiya waved her hand, shyly greeting them with a small 'hello'.

His jaw clench, darting eyes on his idiot blond friend. "Bakubro, you're home.." He said, acknowledging his presence as his eyes moved to the girl beside him. "...and you brought your girlfriend."

You were just fine a while ago. Laughing so hard til tomorrow. For the first time after you got rejected, you got a taste of happiness and yet the universe doesn't really want you to make the most out of it. There he was, scowl on his face as he introduce his girlfriend to the Bakusquad.

You classmates began dispersing as they went back to their own rooms, realizing that the fun has ended.

Something's really tugging your heart too hard for your own liking as if it wants to torture you with a heart ache. You didn't know that you're frozen in place like a fucking statue.

Mina crept beside you, nudging your shoulder snapping out of your trance. Denki already let you go upon seeing the fuming new arrival, throwing a glare at him. As you get a hold of yourself, you decided to go back to your room.

But the gods are not done with you, telling that you're still have an important role to fulfill. Someone screams your name, your mission of going back to the room peacefully were interrupted.

"Hey, y/n!" You muttered a curse before facing them. You wanted to raise your eyebrow, be bitchy, and act like you just didn't get your ass dumped by the man she's clinging to. Honey and flowers hit your nose when she engulfs you in a hug. You were surprised by the sudden close of proximity.

"Oh! Hey, uh, You know me?"

You internally slapped yourself at the awkwardness. Still, you're surprised that you're not a stuttering mess. Your heart leapt when your eyes met his vermillion eyes. He's fucking staring straight at you brazenly.

"Of course! Bakugou told me a lot about you." You noticed how the grumpy man opens his mouth to protest but he was shushed by his girlfriend.

"I just hope he's not dissing me." You chuckle, proud of yourself that you're still not crumbling. "No, don't worry it's the opposite actually."

"Well, that's assuring, I guess." Oh, you really want to save by someone from this awkward situation. "And I have something really, really important to say before I went home."

Soon, you found yourself trapped with the couple in your room. Bakugou is just standing by the door, arms crossed on his chest as he sigh while her girlfriend sat at the edge of your bed, moving her head as a signal for the blond to get moving. You just watched them, dumbfounded and clueless on what's going on. "We already broke up."

Your head snapped to her direction, confused. "Huh?"

You're lying if you swore that you didn't almost jump in glee upon hearing that. A bit of hope swelling inside you as you wished that it isn't some kind of prank. But you're confused, why the hell did she informed you that.

"Y/n, I just want to tell you that that man there is so dumb when it comes to feelings and emotions. I want you to listen to him. Okay, I've done my part. Now, Bakugou, it's your turn."

She said getting up, ready to leave the two of you. A smile etched on her face as she watch your confused face. "Good luck!" She whispered to his hear, giving him a playful salute before turning the knob. Now, leaving the two characters who met again in a new act.

Well, people met a lot of characters who play a different role in their lives. Most of them even minor roles will give a new meaning and lessons that will help them nurture themselves. To say the least Akiya is a character who plays an inportant role in the story. She's just there to build the climax of the tale who help the two conflicted protagonists achieved their 'happy ending'.

Taglist: @tspice283 @anime-weeb-bnha @bakugou-is-my-daddy @deneuves @shystudentcollector @nightlockowl @strangerbhnathings @toobsessedsstuff

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 7: Bloody Reunions

Chapter summary: Time to get the Wolf. Alexis conducts interrogations like the badass she is, but sometimes it sucked being that good at her job. (Protective couple... you don’t even have to squint.)

Warnings: Misogynistic POS, emotional detachment, blood and violence, mild graphic detail of torture. (4490 words... i went hAM lol)

28 October 2019, 0630 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with Demon Dogs Rammazan, Urzikstan

   "Place is a freaking morgue."

Judging by the piles of stacked bodies on the medical beds, it was a justified statement. Morgue might be an idoneous word for hospital. The patronising smell of death bypassed her as usual, but not the disturbing scene of unnaturally still bodies.

The handiwork of Roman Barkov.

There was a twisted satisfaction when Alexis shoved another magazine in her M4A1, knowing one of these bullets had Barkov's name mentally carved into it. She couldn't wait to see it lodged between his eyes.

"Check the bodies..." Sergeant Griggs ordered. The Marines and both CIA agents warily slithered along the occupied stretchers and medical beds—hoping none of them was sleeping with a gun.

It was a gut-wrenching sight. Bloodshed and raw injuries everywhere they turned. Not even sure if those alive should be considered lucky.

Suddenly, one of the civilians bolted into a sitting position, making everybody on edge. Frantic shouts and language barrier only escalated the chaos. Not willing to see another dead body, Alexis interjected in mediocre Arabic, calmly demanding the man to lay back down.

"More than a pretty face..." She looked distastefully over her shoulder, the Marine didn't bother wiping the smirk off his face and instead, shamelessly winked. Revolting, but she merely rolled her eyes, though a much younger her wouldn't hesitate to deck his face.

Gender discrimination in the military was a blast. There came a time when a heavy chip weighed down her shoulders—excruciating, yet she thrived under it. Often, some misogynistic meathead would challenge her.

Emotional, weaker, probably a lousy spotter, wouldn't last a week in the jungle.

Eventually, they all ate their words.

Alexis broke through every damn glass ceilings she went: the only female recruit in her company, made Lieutenant, then transferred to JSOC's Task Force Black. Impossible was understating things.

Her unconventional transfer to Task Force Black was a statement in itself. It finally felt like she earned it. Though she loved 88, the CIA was a nice change of scenery, where there were lesser suffocating males with inferiority complex and women were actually appreciated.

Five years later, such remarks were a humourless punchline to her. On the contrary, Alex fantasied how good Demon 1-2 would look with a bruise on his face. In the shape of his rifle stock.

Truthfully, even she considered shoving a middle finger. The weather was hot enough to vaporise her and having a tactical vest strapped against her sweaty body, was not it.

Things changed when another civilian to their 3 o'clock pulled out a gun targeted at the uniforms. While everyone was still busy hollering around, she shot a precise bullet between the hostile's eyes.

With a thud, the man fell off the stretcher.

The female agent scoffed, returning a satirical wink of her own, "Stay frosty, 1-2." He tripped around his words in shock, until Sergeant Griggs forced the gratitude out of him.

Well. If the Universe wanted to send it her way, who was she to reject it, right? She shook her head at the inevitable smirk on Alex, a subtle one hanging on her lips too.

It was a shame that the peace was ephemeral, by this time, several of Sergeant Griggs' men went radio silent. She religiously trailed behind Alex. They pushed further into the hospital, only to be met with a minigun.

"Mini my ass," Alexis laughed nervously as bullets sprayed inches away from tearing her abdominal—because of her ballsy move to switch covers.

"Holy fucking... Okay! Don't give me that look, Alex!"

She thanked the Heavens that Alex's yells were muffled over ricocheting bullets. Several smoke grenades later, Alex sniped the gunman and lo and behold, they finally reached a heavily chained door.

Score, imagery confirmed the Wolf was inside.

It was her job to clear the room while Alex secured the Wolf. Her index finger pressed lightly against the trigger, swallowing the adrenaline that dangerously swirled inside her. Upon Alex's signal, they sneaked in and hid behind messy shelves. The visual of the three missing Marines came into view, with one held hostage with a knife against his throat as the Wolf filmed another propaganda video.

"Check... Five hostiles."

"Affirmative. On my mark," Alex replied. A split second later, he tackled the Wolf from behind. His men's reactions were quick, but her years of muscle discipline was borderline supernatural.

"Clear!" Griggs rushed to untie his men. "You two good?"

Alexis nodded, tightening the zip ties uncomfortably around the Wolf's wrist. She began examining his body language, hopefully finding nibs of his tells to use against him in interrogation later.

Omar Sulaman was strangely calm for a man with a foiled plan. There was slight reluctance in his steps, but still, silence.

"Saint to Watcher, Wolf is in the bag."

Her voice was a stark contrast to the boyish tones that surrounded the room—earning the Wolf's attention, who made the bold decision to turn around abruptly.

"What are you doing here, daughter?"

Alexis felt the entire world's gaze burn into her side profile, equally as confused as the lot. She shrugged and walked away.

Inwardly, the interrogator inside was thrilled. The Wolf was in for a helluva surprise.

━━━━━

28 October 2019, 2100 Sakhra, Urzikstan

The air-conditioned room in the embassy was a godsend, not a word of complaint as the cold air blanketed her. Alexis, Alex, Farah and Hadir patiently waited for Price's arrival.

When Alexis expectingly popped a piece of mint gum, Alex knew. Though it didn't take an expert to discern the ominous aura around her. Alexis hadn't said more than what was necessary in the seven hours since they captured the Wolf, busying herself to study the Wolf.

Alex was smarter than to cut in between. Like Alexis said, she was damn good at her job. Interrogation was one of her most valued expertise, perhaps arguably why the CIA wanted her so badly and the reason why JSOC refused to let her go.

There was a secret to her tactics—compartmentalise. Alexis sat opposite the Wolf, gaze cold as ice. It was a chilling sight even for Alex.

Unscrewing his bottle, Alex greedily rehydrated himself, still observing Alexis. The grittier bite in her tactics was certainly noticeable. He guessed it had something to do with her incident. Having been captured once or twice, that was the closest Alex came to ever understanding her.

Sometimes Alex swore he never got her back.

Physical detachment was a given while she was... compartmentalising, although the rising situation gave him no choice. A shiver ran down his spine as he tapped her shoulders. At the slight arch of her eyebrows, "Bravo's three mikes out."

Alexis blinked slowly in comprehension, not realising Alex's first announcement shot past her. She nodded methodically, the metal chair screeched as she got up. She charged determinedly to an isolated hallway and slipped down against the wall, burying her head in her tucked knees. Despite the rapid intakes of breaths, it didn't suffice.

She loathed every single second in interrogations. Doing the Devil's work, she thought. The irony in this situation was her call sign. For someone called Saint, she didn't know anything else more normal than this.

Saint wasn't a moniker given to her because she was virtuous, innocent or some shit like that. Hilarious to think that, for its darker origin.

Every time she conducted an interrogation, she had to subdue the gag-inducing hypocrisy. How could she, after St. Petersburg?

The reports claimed it was a miracle she survived. Fuck that, what did they know.

That birthday was memorable, to say the least. He had even arranged something special that faithful day—nothing said happy birthday! more than electrocution.

152 days.

"ты прекрасна, ангел... (You are beautiful, angel..)"

"Fuck!" Her eyes shot open, desperate to let the ugly fluorescent light blind the image. Autonomously, her fingers scratched wildly across her arms. After a particularly deep breath, her head fell against the wall and like clockwork, she exhaled all her anxiety.

She was too good at pretending.

It was her desire to stay in solitude longer, but the shrilling embassy siren obviously had other plans. Doubling back, she found Alex at the doorway already looking for her.

"The Butcher and his men are about to breach. We need to leave, now." She peered into the room, barely seeing the tinted glow of the fire outside. Noticing the rising blood clots and angry red streaks on her forearms, Alex clenched his fists to restrain himself from reaching out, knowing she would only flinch. So, he settled for a hard swallow of his saliva, "Follow me."

Price's voice rang in their ears, "Saint and Echo 3-1, primary extraction failed. We're down on the roof."

"Understood. What's the call, Captain?"

"There's a saferoom in the basement. Head there. We'll be right behind you."

When they reached the basement, Alexis basically scrambled to the CCTVs for a sitrep–she had half a thought to join the sweep, eager to rid the hypocrisy from her systems. Eternity later, or in reality, twenty minutes later, their backup arrived.

Price.

The SAS Captain squeezed her upper arm in greeting. Lucky for her, it was where the bullet had previously scraped her. Price clapped Alex's back while glancing at her patched-up injury, "That fast, huh?"

Missed you too, old man, she thought, rolling her eyes as a response. Her coldness confused the Captain, eyes darting to Alex for an answer. He understood when Alex cocked his head at the Wolf.

"Let's move. Clock's ticking."

"You heard her..." Price ordered the Sergeant to direct the Ambassador secretary to safety and the rest headed to the parking lot. While Price and Farah went to retrieve the Ambassador's secretary, the two CIA agents stood guard at the car park entrance.

Under the flashing red coat of the emergency lights, there was no mistaking in the comfort Alex's concerned nod brought her.

It was apparent that Alex was her anchor. But in this state, she couldn't bear to look at him for long, internally disgusted by herself. All these years, she was petrified to ask if he was repulsed by her hypocrisy.

Then, she felt the hesitant touch of a coarse, large hand. She accepted it immediately—much to Alex's surprise. Their fingers intertwined secretly in the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes had long adapted to the darkness, able to witness Alex looking down at her and just like that, a sense of serenity flowed through her.

The unreadable expression on his face was a stranger to her in all their time together. Under the magnetic allure of Alex's gaze and the soothe whirring of his touch, it felt like they were worlds away from a war zone. Until gunshots unforgivingly interrupted.

She immediately retracted her hand.

Afterwards, the group slotted the obtained garage keycard. They fought through waves of Al-Qatala soldiers in low light, courtesy of the lacking streetlights.

The Ambassador's residence was no sanctuary either, as another wave of AQ fighters drew closer. Afraid the rising situation might delay their timeline, Price ordered her to start interrogations immediately. Her heart jumped at the unexpected news, suddenly thrown in the ring.

Hadir and Farah sent nods of encouragement before running out the residence. Price, despite raging at Laswell through the comms, mustered one last small smile for her.

That left Alex, who looked equally worried as her. Wordlessly, he tapped at the base of his neck. She understood instantly, feeling the cool metal of his dog tag against her skin. Obviously they had airtight obligations to not carry personal items, zero accountability and all, but it was Alex. She had corrupted him enough to not give a fuck.

The dog tag was nothing informative, only a simple 'X' carved messily from Alex's kitchen knife. Useless to her enemy, but deadly if it was ever pried from her neck.

It was a matching set. She mysteriously woke up with it after that night with Alex. His way of saying they'd always have a piece of each other.

With one last longing look, that unbeknownst to both of them—burned their insides, Alex left her alone with the Wolf.

━━━━

Her immediate observation? The Wolf was talkative.

It didn't faze her—narcissists simply could not shut up. Past thirty minutes, zero words retaliated and the Wolf was still going on.

Please. She wanted to yawn. Her legs swung restlessly while she sat on a table, undermining whatever authority the Wolf thought he had. The folklores he told in his grandiose sense of self-importance was vexing but valuable.

He hated women in combat. She learnt that when he tried to recruit Farah and even her, just minutes ago. Omar Sulaman thought women were weak.

Exciting.

As he rambled on, she almost failed to suppress a scoff. A woman wielding more power was his stressor, this meathead would be even easier to break.

"You have killer eyes," The Wolf said, tone switched from persuasive to intimidating. He exhausted everything—telling stories of what Barkov's men did to "weak" women, trying to scare her into his protection. Alexis hadn't bothered reacting, which pissed him off.

Victory surged past the fog of irritation inside her. She had conditioned the Wolf by staying quiet, truly a personal achievement. His narcissistic tendencies were itching to get out, evident from how he was desperately reaching for straws.

Alexis reached for her stripped vest and carelessly dug around for a plastic bottle. Popping the lid open, she chucked a mint gum in preparation.

It was time. Clouded by anger, he'd make mistakes that she would catch.

"Somebody hurt you."

She couldn't resist a huff at his eleventh-hour tactics. So the Wolf was now gunning for her emotional side? Fine, she'd bite.

"Don't act like you know me."

"Oh, child... I know more than you think. The look in your eyes, fear..." The Wolf paused, smirking arrogantly even at her mocking smile. "You put a great act, daughter. But I've been around longer than you... seen more."

"I bet... Because what makes a freedom fighter wake up and decide to switch sides?" Alexis circled him in pretence thought, "Money?" Noticing his jaw clenched, she pressed on it. "Power? That's why you made those videos?"

Alexis interrupted at the sounds of his protest, "Surely freedom fighters must not pay well. Maybe you got sick of that and switched?"

"I didn't switch sides! I was always on the right side."

"And what side is that?"

"The winning side," He snapped, "This occupation will never end if we hold sympathy for others."

A narcissist with a saviour complex, laughable. Alexis returned to stand in front of him, the grin ever present on her face. "But you didn't deny my claims—you want money and power."

The Wolf wanted to charge at her but was tied by the restraints, heavy creases in his forehead as he snarled, "No! I am saving Urzikstan!"

"Murdering people is saving them? I know people just like you, hiding behind a cause. After you kill Barkov, you will only start your own regime." Alexis chuckled darkly, "I'm not gonna let you do that. Don't bother holding out, nobody's coming to save you."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" At her strained expression, he continued, "If I die today, I die a hero. You? Your death will be meaningless, a secret." He continued laughing, "You Westerners... Busybodies, you have no business here. The price for that is death–"

He paused, not because of her killer gaze, but as if something in him clicked, "You have no family... That's why you are here." Loud waves of laughter escaped from the man, like he figured it out. And fuck, he did, word for word.

Alexis must have reached Nirvana or gained enlightenment, shocked by her restrain to not blow Omar Sulaman's brains out. She dare not move a muscle, refused to prove him right.

"When my men come, and they will. I will spare you, kill everybody but you. Maybe even make you watch that young man who loves you so much. Then, you shall know fear, child..."

That was it, her trigger point. Blood red. Hot flashes of anger. Picturing Alex's dead body was enough to chuck everything up. The wrathful voice inside her absolutely shattered her restrain, no longer concerned with not letting the Wolf gain an edge.

Alexis bit.

In a flash, she tipped his chair behind and roughly circled a hand around his neck.

"Don't. You think you know fear? You don't know shit until you carve your name on a disgusting brick wall with your bloody fingernails because it was the only way anyone would know what happened to you." Alexis spat, eyes boring at the choking man rendered helpless under her. "So don't fucking talk to me about fear, old man."

When the Wolf thrashed around to breathe, she waited another three seconds before releasing him—the once tipped chair landing wobbly with a sharp shriek. Her sudden outburst gained a new terror visible in the Wolf's eyes. No longer the delicate soldier his sanctimonious mind painted her as.

"Now," She slapped the invisible dust off her hands, tone bouncing scarily fast to normal. "Where is the gas?"

"I... I don't know."

Sighing, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked again. Still receiving the same reply, "And I don't believe you. Nothing escapes the Wolf. Someone stole the gas and you knew about it..." Alexis abruptly paused, fingers tapped against her forehead, "No, wait. You made a deal. Help whoever steal the gas and they promise to help you chase the foreign powers out?"

His silence was abundant.

There wasn't a tinge of remorse when her fingertips glided along a screwdriver.

"Since you have been here for much longer... You know this next part." As soon as she wiggled the screwdriver between her fingers, Alexis had him in the bag. The slight twitch under the Wolf's right eye was his tell, fear. Alexis witnessed it when she choked the living hell out of him.

Too damn easy. She should dress a big fat red ribbon across him right now.

"And since you know me so well," She gestured between them, "You definitely know that I'm a big believer in second chances. Right your wrongs, blah blah. I'll give you second chances. Many more, actually, I'm pretty generous... But I'm not sure if you can take it." With that, she ruthlessly stabbed into his left thigh, a devious smile spreading wider with the increased intensity of his screams. The metal tip squelched when she dug around.

"The gas?"

"I... Stop!" The Wolf bellowed in pain when she yanked it out, sprays of blood following. For someone called the Wolf, he had an embarrassing low pain tolerance.

She tilted his chin up, pleased as she surveyed the sweat that broke. "Here's your second chance. Third is when I snap your femoral artery and hang you for all of Urzikstan to see you bleed out. Your legacy will be a joke."

"Y–You can't do that..." He shook his head weakly, eyes blinking in pain. "Everyone will know the Americans are here... You'll be buried with me."

Reducing to eye level, she smiled wholeheartedly, "I'll make sure to dig a grave big enough for us both. Last call... Your third chance is coming," Alexis taunted, nodding towards the electrical screwdriver—witnessing the fear shudder across his body. "Where is the gas?"

She came so close to breaking him, practically seeing the words trying to tumble out of his mouth. Literally a blink later, a truck wildly crashed into their room, crumbling the house's weak foundations. Jerking to a standing position, she instantly reached for her sidearm and fired.

At least five men exited the truck, spraying bullets that forced her to tuck her body behind the slim profile of a cupboard.

They had AKs and she had a handgun, do the math.

She hurriedly pressed her comms, "I lost visual on the Wolf!"

Her instincts wrangled between fight or flight, seeing that she was severely outnumbered and the door was literally on her left. But the morality in her warred on. Suppressed under heavy fire, she still had no visual of the Wolf, but assumed he was freed by now.

She yelped in surprise as a painful tug tossed her out into the open. A burly man wasted no time to attack her. She barely raised her Glock 21 before he swiftly grabbed her wrist and pressed the magazine release button.

He wanted to reach for her Glock's slide lock before she elbowed his jaw, making him stumble backwards but made a quick recovery. He threw her into the metal table and she lost the grip on her gun.

Alexis' back arched painfully across the table, hands scrambling for purchase to rid the tightening hands around her neck. She weakly tried to pry in between his arms, but her lungs burned from the depleting oxygen. Fingers scrambling to poke his eyes and finally mustering enough strength, she sent a cheap blow to his nuts. He hunched over just enough for her to inhale loudly.

Seeing that, the Wolf's man started firing again.

She kneed him in the gut, put him in a chokehold and propped him up as her shield. The man's body jerked in reaction to every bullet he received.

Her ears picked up on the distinct sound of M4A1s approaching closer to her location. The Wolf motioned to leave, dust spluttering her way as their truck wildly reversed, with the Wolf grinning victoriously in the passenger seat.

"We will meet again, daughter! And your lovely man."

He left her alive. Like he said he would.

Miraculously still breathing, the man in her grasps used this distraction to tug on her legs. Seconds later, she felt a splitting pain in her head.

She was on the ground when she reopened her eyes, hazily feeling a wet sensation drip down her temples. The pain mirrored a wave, boggling inside her. Black spots started to consume the edges of her sight.

No no no.

From her blurry vision, she managed to squint out something glimmering in her 12 o'clock—she assumed a knife or her god damn screwdriver coming back to bite her ass.

Not like this.

The shuffles of dragged footsteps echoed in her brain, almost a warning from her body. She blindly saw the shift in light source, presuming he was walking towards her.

Incoherent words tumbled out, forcing herself to speak so she wouldn't pass out. Shaking, she pushed her upper body off the floor and stretched for her fallen sidearm...

That one bullet in the Glock's chambers was still waiting.

More blood flowed messily down her head, further impairing what was left of her vision.

Muscle memory dictated the rest—the grainy grip of her Glock, index finger looped around the trigger.

Alexis prayed when she fired.

At the assuring sound of a body collapsing, so did Alexis.

━━━━━

Price was the one to spot her.

"Clear!" He burst open the door, finding a jarring hole in the walls and an unconscious Alexis laying beside a dead man.

"Shit," Kyle said from beside him. "Is she breathing?"

Price shouted for Alex and the man instantly appeared beside him. Careful not to move her unnecessarily, two shaky fingers checked Alexis' pulse, Price felt his heart threatened to burst out.

"She's alive."

No one heaved louder than Alex. They examined her injuries, a large gash splashed across her right temple that hopefully a few stitches would solve. But her unconsciousness was troubling.

"How long has it been?"

"More than a minute..."

"Fuck, we need to do something!" Alex yelled frantically. Please, please, please wake up. Her chances of a brain injury increased by the seconds. Fuck! He should have stayed with her, why didn't he stay?

His hands gently cupped the sides of her face, feeling an onslaught of tears starting to form amidst the rising stuffiness in his nose. As his light-blue jeans was tinted a carmine red, he decided this was his fault.

Alex jerked at the mention of his name.

"Let me clean her injuries..." Farah coaxed, a cloth that reeked of disinfectant in her hands. Alex reluctantly shifted, kneeling beside her laying body and watched Farah dab carefully, venomously demanding her to exact more care.

"Alex," A powerful grip tugged on his vest, lifting him to his feet to meet John Price. "Ease off. Let Farah and Hadir do the work."

"Captain..."

"She will be fine, trust me." Price chuckled to himself, "Unbelievable. That woman is still an excellent shot." He whistled lowly, staring at the man with a fatal shot to his heart.

Price said with a knowing look, "Clear your head, son."

"Yes sir," Alex exhaled, going to retrieve her fallen comms set on the floor.

Seconds later, Farah yelled for them. The two men doubled back, finding Farah holding Alexis down from wiggling about. Alex heard a groggy mumble of his name.

"Alex..." Alexis repeated, head rolling around despite the yells of protest. "Where..."

"Here! Here! I'm right here. You need to stop moving, baby." Alex skidded to her side and held her outreached hands. His eyes raking over her as if he had the superpower to mentally check her wellbeing.

A weak grin formed at the realisation that he was alive, breathing and right before her. "The Wolf... He... The escaped... He... car... men."

"Shhh, we'll get him," Hadir tried to pacify her while handing Farah a clean cloth.

Ten minutes passed before she started making sense and was fully conscious. Though the pounding in her head was enough to last a lifetime. Her eyes averted to the dead man.

Jesus, the pain...

"Alexis." Price sternly warned.

"Get me up... I'm fine... Don't be a pussy."

Carefully positioning her to sit up, she weakly laid against Alex's chest. The man could care less when her blood seeped into his shirt—evident as he steadied her head against his own, refusing to let her move it wildly.

Staring at her bewildered teammates, she hazily slurred: "Well. Don't all of you look like shit."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓

a/n: i really went with the "i'm injured and my lover finds me and cradles me in my blood" trope and y'know what. y'all are welcome ;) btw sry for the late update... i edited this chapter 17 times lol i was so insecure about it. thanks for waiting lovers!

taglist: @flyboidameron​​ @wanderlustgiant​​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

[rani-karenita]

My Favorite Fictional Characters Traits

As an observer of both the story told in each fictions and the characters' behavior, there are many interesting traits that I admire from those characters. Not only because it seems morally good, but because it made me interested and motivates me to change into a better person. Although enjoying the anime/manga/light novels are hardly my hobby, I do love to see more of the stories and the characters. In a sense that I'm trying to understand it more with making deep analysis and possible future (aka. headcanon) of it.

Speaking of characters traits, here's 5 traits I love from fictional characters with one bonus point being my one true favorite traits.

5. Calm and Composed (Fushimi Saruhiko)

This one trait actually known by me from learning an information about Ritsuko Akagi’s personality (someone from Evangelion series). But since I don’t know much about her I decide to use Fushimi as an example. We surely want everything we do to come into a place, right? So we need to do it, with clear mind and composure. Although he is kinda brash, Fushimi also has proven himself to have this kind of attitudes, as we can see when he’s talking with Nagare’s channel, Kotosaka.

4. Relatable (Marlya Noel)

When it comes to relatable, there are wide explanation about this field. Maybe someone who have similar personality with us, same trauma, problems, etc. For me, the similarities between Marlya and myself is so much I can hardly think straight about it. But at the same time I feel like I’m no longer alone for having the similar insecurities and sensitivities as her. So when I see her, I just want to see her happy and growing up along with her.

3. Supportive / Love to Help Other People (Irisviel von Einzbern)

Totsuka Tatara, Kusuhara Takeru, Doraemon and Nobita can be included here, but Irisviel is especially different and extraordinaire for me. The first time I see her is the time when I actually see someone willing to support others in a belief that everyone deserve happiness. She also like a best friend material for me: kind-hearted, soft, and caring. While everyone is saying that either Kiritsugu or Saber is the best characters, for me the real hidden gem is Irisviel.

 2. Knowing Their Priority (Free Underbar)

Soldiers and their willingnes to let go of the past and do all their best in the present. That’s basically who Free is in my eyes. I do acknowledge his beauty but his personality and choice of action are what make me interested in him. In episode 8 cour one, he said that we don’t need to forgive someone but we need to keep going. There’s no need for revenge, and that justice is going to be given. Sounds childish but if we jump to episode 7 cour 2, we also see that he no longer cares about enemies from the past, and that the peace of the country in the present is more important so he’s okay to work together with anyone who once are his enemies.

More importantly, in episode 12 cour 1, he prioritize on getting his job done and the safety of his comrades rather that avenge Ozz’s death to Liscar. He does have a face off with the knight of fairy, but it’s just because he need to stop Liscar from rampaging the kingdom. That’s a testament of his maturity.

1. Leadership (Munakata Reisi)

And finally, the #1 favorite trait in my list: Leadership. In being a leader one must know that all their decisions are not going to always satisfies others. Sometimes they also will make mistakes, seen as a villain, and must deal with politics cleverly so that they still have a control for both themselves and the situations. And Reisi totally fit all those requirements. Not only that, he’s also caring for all his subordinates and rarely mad at their incapability. The only thing that makes him angry is when they’re being disturbed by Nagare’s pawns and the fact that Adolf/Shirou has run away from his responsibility that made Reisi can’t put his trust on him.

#Bonus: Have the Most Beautiful Character Development (Zenjo Gouki)

Lo and behold, I’m not done yet. This category actually also fit for Fushimi but because he’s already got a place, now it’s time to make Zenjo-san shine! Learning about him from RoK, to K Side: Blue light novels, and later K: Countdown manga is totally an enlightening journey from me. I learn that he has a deep trauma, thus not believing Reisi because he’s kinda rude and insensitive. But later he comes to an understanding when Reisi also has done the same thing like him: killing a king, that resulting him to have cracks on his Sword of Damocles. The similar situation with him pre-Kagutsu Incident perhaps has soften him and then in RoK we saw him working together with Reisi again but now, without misunderstanding between them.

[Also please bear with me I love his smile] 

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [10]

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 10.5 OR Chapter 11

➜ Words: 4.2k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

Siren wails and deafening ambulance howls — putting arms over heads and getting to your knees — handcuffs clinking as your hands are restrained. You’re bathed in blue and red lights, eyes wearily blinking as your vision is blinded. Camera clicks — microphones shoved into his cheeks — questions spewed one after another, morphing to sound like the tortured in hell. Taehyung shields himself away from the white flashes as he’s forced to stand by his father’s side.   Fear runs rampant, only partially subdued with a single press conference, tabloids and media outlets gathering as they try to figure out what happened, calling upon the police chief, your father, and Taehyung’s. Those responsible are taken into custody, under investigation, while another team tries to contain public hysteria from spiraling.    “I’m sorry I snitched,” Jungkook tells you. “I didn’t want to.”   “It’s okay,” you murmur as you stand at the back of the room, watching the President take a stand against terrorism. “You brought me backup when I needed it.”   But just because everything’s said and done and everyone’s safe doesn’t mean there aren’t any repercussions.   It’s the end of the line. From across the room, you stare at Taehyung intently, how disheveled and tired he looks, the spark in his eyes lost, knowing this is unfortunately the last. And you’ll accept it. When tomorrow arrives, you’ll go looking for other jobs to take on, accept whoever might want your selected skill set. There’s nothing to do but take responsibility for your actions and the damage done.   But you don’t know why it feels so hard.   Your whole life has revolved around indifference, acceptance, letting things roll off your shoulder and continuously moving forward. But for the first time, your feet feel too grounded to keep moving.   “Come in.”   You push the door, closing it gently behind you. His office remains ever the same, except for the new piles of papers placed all over his desk.   The old man sighs, taking off his reading classes and rubs two fingers at his temple while you take a seat across from him. It’s more frightening when he isn’t outright angry.    He begins, words heavy with exhaustion. “Did you think about what you were going to do?”   “Yes,” you answer after a beat. “I knew it was going to take a long time—”   “So you ignored all the plans that were being made? You ignored standard protocol and my authority as well as everyone else’s?” He asks you calmly, composed without a bite to his words, almost like he expected this.   “I wanted to scope out the environment to provide more details.”   “That’s out of the scope of your job. You went above and beyond. And you did so irresponsibly. To the point where it’s outrageous. You could’ve gotten killed. You could’ve gotten the President’s son killed.”   “I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t cut it, but it’s all you can offer. “I...saw a chance and I took it.”   “You’re lucky that no one got more hurt than they did.” The old man sighs, leaning back in his swivel chair as he shuffles papers in front of him. “I’ll write you a recommendation letter before you go.”   “There’s no need.”   He raises a brow and halts his movements completely. After a second, he glances up at you again. This time, he speaks in a softer tone, not as a chief, but as your father. “Are you planning to stay in the capital?”   “I...don’t know yet.” You came for a reason and yet you’ve done nothing for that reason — it’s still too difficult to approach, too awkward. You’re not sure where to begin or what to do. Your initial intentions have washed down the drain.   “Let me write you a letter,” he insists. After all, despite recent incidents, the past three months have passed by without any qualms. It was the first time there was some semblance of peace and quiet. “It’ll help you in whatever you want to do next.”   “What letter?” He’s interjected by a chiming timbre. The lithe woman shuts the door behind her before sauntering up to the desk, right beside you. Her arms are crossed, dark hair draping her backside, dark circles showing her fatigue, yet she doesn’t show any weaknesses. “You’re not going to write any letter, ____.”   “Hyunjung...this is a decision that’s been in the making for a long time.”   Taehyung’s stepmother is outright challenged, but she stands her ground, shaking her head, not amused whatsoever. “I know I have no part in this, but it’s my job to protect my son’s protector.” Her voice moves into a higher pitched, almost like a whine of disbelief. “I came here to get on my knees to personally thank Y/N and lo and behold, I find you not only reprimanding her but firing her? I won’t have it.”   Your father lightly scoffs, looking away. “She isn’t suitable for this job…”   “Then who is?” The middle-aged female asks, demanding an answer he can’t give. “She risked her own life to save Taehyung. We should be honouring that bravery. I expected you to promote her, y’know! Give her a better title! Give her a raise or a vacation!”    Her rambling is childish and lighthearted, dissipating the tension in the room. While she’s not biologically related to Taehyung, she shares striking similarities to him. You’re not surprised that she suits the President well. “Or even put up a statue of her in the yard! I thought I would have to fight you against naming Taehyung’s firstborn Y/N!”   “I acted irresponsibly,” you speak up, looking towards her. “I’ll accept whatever punishment—”   “Tch.” She clicks her tongue in annoyance, shushing you harshly. She frowns in disapproval with her reddened lips pouty. “I’m trying to defend you. Don’t make it worse, young lady.” Taehyung’s stepmother turns to face the chief. “Look at what you did to the poor girl! She should be proud of her courage, but you made her feel ashamed. Have you ever praised her before? Or do you just criticize your best employee all the time?”   There’s a long silence.    The tables have turned. Now he’s the one being reprimanded and scolded. But he doesn’t protest or fight her on it, perhaps giving into the woman’s judgment.   “Unbelievable,” she scoffs. “You are about to fire one of the nicest people of your entire team. Absolutely unbelievable. Come on, Y/N. Follow me. You don’t have to sit here any more and listen to this ridiculousness.”   You turn to your father after looking at her. His expression is impassive, but you read it well enough. There’s no real anger. At best, he feels at a loss.   You deliberate what to do, but the woman doesn’t give you a chance. She urges you one last time, heavily insistent, so you take her hand and she pulls you to your feet. “If you want to fire her, you’ll have to speak to me about it first.”   She struts out, tugging you along and you look back to catch your father sighing, molded into his chair, head knocked back to stare at the ceiling. He can’t get rid of you even if he wanted to. Somehow, you’re protected by everyone that has the last name Kim.   “You really didn’t need to….”   “Hush, child.” She spins around, hands securing on your shoulders comfortingly. “I owe you my life. Taehyung owes you his life, okay? I’ll make sure he knows that too, but I think he already does. Don’t get too bothered by your old man. He was probably just worried about how you risked yourself out there.” Somehow you doubt that. Then again, even while growing up he had an odd way of showing his affection. “Which I don’t approve of either, but what’s done is done and all I can say is thank you. Truly.”   “I was….just doing my job.”   “You weren’t.” She smiles softly. “And you know that.”   Taehyung’s stepmother tells you how you not only saved a life, but a family and a country from being thrown into chaos. While it’s a bit much, she emphasizes that you’re a hero. Your name was never disclosed to the public, but they know an agent single-handedly saved the President’s son and the public opinion has improved in the Presidential Security Service.    The recognition is overwhelming and not something you ever intended, but not something you particularly despise.    “If there’s anything that you ever need, tell me, okay? Remember to take care of yourself too. I understand if you want to take a break and rest up after all that. It must’ve been traumatizing. I’ll let your father know if you want to take a vacation….”   You fiddle with your fingers. “Actually, I was wondering where Taehyung was.”    For the most part, you were fine and if anything, you were more curious on how he was handling it all.   The woman gently smiles again. “He’s at this hospital right now.”   “Can I visit him?”   “You most certainly can.”   //   He is a prisoner. And he doesn’t understand why he’s being punished.   Kim Taehyung crosses his arms and pouts like a petulant child, sitting on the edge of the bed. He would’ve personally ripped out the IVs in his arms, but he doesn’t do needles, so he had wailed painfully until the nurse came and took it out for him.   “Get me out of here!” he screams at the top of his lungs. The white walls and maybe the shadow outside hears his plea. “I’m more traumatized from being in here!”   He’s been under intensive questioning, assessed both physically and mentally, forced to speak to three different therapists. Taehyung’s not as scarred as they think he is. He doesn’t need any recovery when there was nothing to recover from. He was perfectly fine, especially considering when deep down he knew you’d come for him. There was nothing to be afraid of.   You always end up showing up again. He just has to wait.   A few minutes….a few hours….or a few years.   You always come back.   But at the moment he’s too impatient. Enough is enough. Taehyung jumps to his feet and marches to the door, sliding it open.   Park Jimin blocks his way.   “Taehyung,” he whines his name, reluctant and timid with every movement. “You’re not allowed to leave.”   “Just let me go!” he demands in exasperation.   The dark-haired bodyguard is at a loss, trying to get the other to sympathize with his situation. “I…..I’ll get in trouble.”   “No one has to know….”   The two of them are whispering as if someone can hear, lingering in between the room and the corridor. The gates to freedom are so close, yet too far. “But they’ll find out. I’m sorry, Taehyung. I was given specific duties. You know that. I’m not allowed…..I can’t go against them.”   There’s a held silence.   Taehyung isn’t amused whatsoever and he narrows his eyes, words full of spite. “You know….you’re unbearable sometimes.”   “Yeah….” Jimin’s head slumps like he knows, lips pulling to the floor. “I’m sorry.”   “What...are you doing?” You’re standing at the end of the white hallway lit by fluorescent lights. Both Jimin and Taehyung whip their heads over, the former taking a sigh of relief at the sight of you and the latter with a grin expanding into his cheeks.   “Fuck! About time, dumbo! Where were you?! I’ve been trapped for five hours!”   You approach with crossed arms, peeking inside the room momentarily. Of course he has his own private hospital room on the highest floor of the entire building. But you notice that the bed sheets are crumpled, chair pushed over haphazardly, tissue box on the floor — evidence that he threw one hell of a tantrum. You give him an incredulous look.   He smiles, suddenly on his best behaviour. “Are you gonna come in?”   Jimin looks at you like you’re his saviour.   The door shuts, finally just you and him. “Are you okay?” Your eyes sweep up and down his figure. He’d make a joke about your staring, but he’s too irritated by the question.    “Yes, I’m fine,” he groans. “People keep asking me that. I’m not traumatized, okay? I don’t need any sort of recovery. I wasn’t injured. I’m not shocked or anything. I’m breathing, normal, alive.”   “You were kidnapped, Taehyung.”   “For like...two hours,” he points outs. “And they didn’t even do anything to me. I was going to talk my way out of it anyways. You don’t have to be so worried. I’m more worried about you.” He tugs on the hem of your jacket, pulling you gently until you give in, falling into the spot by his side. The mattress dips under your weight. “Doesn’t your wrist hurt?”   At the mention of it, your own hand circles your other wrist, rolling it around once without feeling any aches or pains. “It healed weeks ago.”   “Yeah….well….I was just...worried.” He gazes at you through his lashes. The soft lighting makes the edges of him glow. His voice is also strangely husky around the edges. You’re uncomfortable with how intimate it is.    “You shouldn’t be. I’m used to it.”   He scoffs lightly. “You always like to act like you’re tough — you know it’s okay if you aren't, right? It doesn’t mean you’re weak.” It’s quiet, the words sinking in. “Even if you’ve experienced worse things, it doesn’t make this one any less dangerous or scary.”   You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away from him to stare at the door instead. “I’m sorry.”   The corner of his mouth curls. “What for?”   “I was supposed to protect you and I let that happen to you.”   “You saved me, you idiot.”   “I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight and I’m-….I’m….nervous,” you admit in a murmur and you hate it. You absolutely detest being this vulnerable when you’ve sworn to trample any signs of weakness. It goes against every cell in your body, but it’s the truth — a truth that you don’t want to shoulder alone. “I’m nervous it’s going to happen again. I keep getting startled at the smallest things. I don’t...think that’s normal.”   “It’s okay.” His arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly hug. You don’t jump on instinct or lean back as you usually would. You allow yourself to relax into his hold, leaning against his chest, letting him close the distance between you two. It’s nice having this sort of comfort — you’re not sure when the last time you were hugged. “It’s okay if that happens. It’s okay to be nervous or scared.”   But even so, it goes against everything you’ve been taught at a young age.   “Aren’t you scared?” you murmur the question and had he not been so close, he would’ve missed it entirely.    “A little,” Taehyung admits too. “It kind of felt surreal when it happened….my adrenaline was pumping. I think my survival instincts kicked in — I was talking a lot to them. But I don’t remember exactly what I said or what happened….it was kind of an out-of-body experience...you know?”   “Yeah. I get that.”   Taehyung smiles and pats your backside once. It’s the first time he’s comforting you and it’s odd considering when that was your job when he always cried as a kid. Granted, you never did a good job — having looked down at him while telling him to get up again and that tripping wasn’t going to kill him.   It always made Taehyung cry harder.   “You were so cool,” he hums like it even means anything. “When you untied yourself and stole the gun….I keep thinking your talent is wasted on me. You should be a spy or something. You’d be good at it.”   “I’ve already done my part,” you tell him. “I wanted to go home.”   He hums another soothing note from deep inside his chest and you hear how his heart rate quickens in pace. You finally pull yourself away before it gets too weird. He’s reluctant to let go, but does so anyhow while you compose yourself with a deep breath.   “Hey…” Taehyung pipes up, staring at you with those intense eyes again. “If you ever wanna talk to me about something, you should. Don’t keep it inside.”   “Yeah, okay.”   “Or talk to a doctor,” he suggests with a smile. “They’re probably more qualified than I am.” Taehyung hops up to his feet, stretching his arms above his head, trying to act all casual after the heart-to-heart conversation. He groans, getting the kinks out of his shoulders before spinning around with a mischievous expression. “Should we ditch?”   “You’re supposed to stay here for the night.”   He pouts childishly, bottom lip jutted out when he doesn’t get his way. “I don’t wanna. They already poked me with a whole bunch of stuff and asked me a million questions. It’s suffocating being in here.”   “What if—”   “What if nothing. Nothing’s going to happen.” He shrugs. “You and I both know that. The entire city is on high alert and the perpetrators are already caught. No one’s gonna kidnap the President’s son twice in one night. And you’re off duty, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s eyes sweep you from head to toe, brow quirked at your casual attire as he discreetly smirks. “It’s not like you’d get in trouble if we hang out after your working hours.”   “Me being off duty might be permanent at this rate.”   He’s alarmed at your remark. “You’re getting fired?!”   “No. Your stepmom saved me from that.”   “She did?”   You nod, much to his surprise. “She saved me, but I’ve been thinking about things and….maybe I should resign, Taehyung. I’ve caused a lot of issues and I don’t want to give...chief a headache. I want to be treated like everyone else and if I was, I think I would’ve been removed a long time ago.” The last thing you want is to be a burden and you don’t want to be saved anymore, to cheat the system for self-preservation when you’d rather accept responsibility.   “If it were anyone else, they would’ve been at the podium at the press conference,” he says. “If it were anyone else, they would’ve gotten a metal. Your dad’s just really harsh on you to a point where I don’t even understand and it upsets me.”   You look up at him, exhaling. Taehyung’s tone softens, eyes saddened. “Can I make a selfish request, Y/N?”   “Depends on what it is.”   “I know I said you’re better off somewhere else...but still...I want you to stay. Not forever. But just a little longer,” he asks and it’s shy and earnest. Taehyung’s hand drops to his side awkwardly after brushing back the blonde strands of his hair. He musters an embarrassed laugh. “Honestly, you’re my only friend and probably the biggest reason I haven’t run off yet.”   You don’t get it.   You’ve done nothing for him. You don’t even openly offer him the friendship that he so desperately desires — you can’t comprehend why you’re the reason he stays. “What’s so special about me?”   “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “A lot of things. It’s not because we grew up together. Maybe a little has to do with that. But you just make it a lot more….bearable for me. I look forward to seeing you. Every day.”   He’s ashamed, cheeks glowing pink, looking away. It’s the first time he’s shown you something aside from outright boldness. You muse that it’s a night of firsts and you savour the glimpse of sincerity that you see. “I don’t want to make this weird, alright, dumbo? And I’m not saying I like you like that. I just know that you listen to me and that you’re loyal. This might be a job to you and you probably think I’m annoying as hell on most days or that I’m a spoiled brat, but I know you actually give a fuck about me. You care. Unlike a lot of other people. And it’s all I...wanted. I like your company. And if you’re gone, I wouldn’t know what to do.”   You stare. It’s another first — the first time you’re really seeing him.   Taehyung’s not just a troublemaking boy who’s caused you a lot of your childhood gripes and headaches. There’s someone deeper in front of you, someone that’s not a chore or purposely a nuisance, someone human.   You stand to your feet. “So...where are we going?”   Taehyung grins. “I’ll lead the way.”   Jimin is surprised to see the both of you exiting, insisting that he shouldn’t leave when it goes against the rules he was specifically instructed by Seokjin. But Jimin gives in when you convince him otherwise, easily giving up when it’s two pinned against one. He follows behind, ducking away into the stairwell when the police walk past. There are more guards lingering around the halls in case something suspicious were to happen. But luckily, Jimin takes one for the team and diverts their attention while the pair of you slip away.   “For the record though, I don’t think you’re an annoying, spoiled brat.”   “Really?” Taehyung chirps, turning his head as you walk down the street. Without bodyguards, suits, camera flashes, you’re just normal people. No one would notice that he’s a descendant of one of the most important people in the country.   “Only sometimes.”    Taehyung melts into another grin, curiosity making his irises glimmer. “Like when?”   “When you give the bodyguards hell when I’m gone and you demand I come back.”   “It’s a great strategy that has proven to work.” He winks and you scoff.   “I’m not a toy, alright?   “You’re not. But if you were, you’d be my favourite.”   Your eyes roll, not taking it as a compliment and certainly not impressed by the lame pick-up line. “I think you know deep down how childish you are.”   Taehyung shrugs. “It’s fun. Why not? Life’s too short to take seriously. You should take that advice for yourself, dumbo. I remember when you were just a wee-child—”   “I’m a year older than you—” you interject.   He outright ignores you. “—and you wouldn’t even join the kids on the playground. You were reading an instruction manual your dad told you to read and he only gave you that to get you to go away when he was doing work.”   You can’t recall the memory, surprised that he does. But based on what you hear, you don’t really want to remember it. “Where are we going exactly, Taehyung?”   There’s a sparkle in his eye that makes you want to sigh. “Go-kart racing. Ever been?”   “No. And no. Do you even have a driver’s license?”   The question is answered when he pulls it out for the teenager who’s working at the center. Your worries are at least eased somewhat when you see him get strapped in with a hard helmet and a proper seat belt. You’d sit beside him just in case something goes wrong, but he told you to get your own kart and wouldn’t give it up.   It’s a terribly immature and childish game, but with Taehyung’s excitement, you let loose, allowing yourself to enjoy it. Even if it’s just for a second.   The music blares above you. There’s two other adults here at this ungodly hour to enjoy their own fun, but Taehyung’s the loudest and most obnoxious person in the building. He hollers, firing up the atmosphere and his energy is infectious. The boy also ignites your competitive spirit after egging you on and you end up racing against each other.   Taehyung turns around often to mock you, sticking out his tongue, and he swears when you overtake him. You start to laugh when he switches strategies and tries to crash into you, doing anything possible as long as you don’t win first place.   “Hey! Excuse me!” The teenager is shouting at the rails. “You’re not supposed to crash into each other! This isn’t bumper cars!”   “Sorry!” Taehyung yells back, but he’s not in fact sorry when he tries it again.   In the moment, you’re reminded of something that you let slip through your mind.   He’s not the President. He’s the President’s son. But even then, he’s just a guy — Kim Taehyung, who enjoys simple things, who doesn’t want anything to do with the limelight, who’d rather stay out of the spotlight and in the audience, sitting next to you.   “Hey, dumbo!”   “What?!” You scream, the roar of the motors and noise of the music too deafening. “I can’t hear you!”   “Thank you!”    “What?”   While you can’t hear him, he screams it again. With all the sincerity he can muster. “Thank you!”    Taehyung slams the gas pedal, going as fast as he can to let the wind blow into his clouding eyes, hoping it can dry them up before he starts to cry.   Truth be told, Taehyung remembers everything. He remembers every word he said, every little action they did, down to the odor of the abandoned warehouse. More importantly, he remembers you appearing in front of him, staring at him, standing in front of him, extending an arm to help him stand again when he was going out of his mind, scared beyond belief.   And he can still remember how his arm wrapped around your shoulders, how you leaned into his tender touch, how his own pulse mysteriously skipped a beat. It’s all still fresh in his mind.   But he wishes it lasted longer.