#and tragedy and angst is my trademark

[daemon-in-my-head]

I need help deciding and (and remembering but that's smth else). There's 2 things I rly rly rly wanna work on rn.

[six-eyed-samurai]

As per the results for my vote, here it is! But I never said it wasn't going to be angst~~~

Please leave a comment! It'll gimme motivation to score well in my exams swear UwU

I saw you and I just knew, one day you'd be my man. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his suave talent on the screen, for the thefts of more than hundreds of drama fans’ hearts everywhere, for his signature shark grin and trademark tattoos.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his lead role in the fantasy series Malevolent Shrine, directed by his half brother Kamo Choso, together with the uprising star Gojo Satoru.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for the tragedy that ruined his life forever and kidnapped him within its dark, depressive grasp to never let him go and completely vanish from the public eye.

I'd kill for you, over and over, I will and could and can. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna’s name was once known to cause crazed stampedes at any store, restaurant or mall he blessed with his presence, but now when he walked hunched and slumped into his stained sweatshirt barely anybody batted an eye at the man who was more dead than alive now.

Ryomen Sukuna's figure was formerly spotted immediately everywhere he went, especially with YOU, his dearest darling angel at his side, a magnet attracting eager, frenzied paparazzi and die hard fans. He couldn't have been more proud to show you in all your glory off to the crowd, to lay claim on you and just prove his undying love for you in front of everyone…once upon a time.

Ryomen Sukuna's expression of easy, lazy smirking from his acting days officially disappeared to be replaced by a face with an emptiness that rivaled the void and had completely forgotten any other emotion long before everyone saw the photo at his final interview on a subject he had no wish to talk about: you and your death.

I know she's hurting us, but don't worry, I've got a plan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna whose answer to the Jujutsu Tech Weekly’s question of what he regretted most was turning down directors Jogo and Hanami’s offer to collaborate in a movie together, but really? He regretted ever convincing you to stop hiding your secret marriage and step into the limelight with him.

Ryomen Sukuna who can boast about his natural acting talent, charisma and success with all the proof in the world to back it up, but he would never say he was one for observance, not after he missed all the signs of an obsessive, insane stalker tailing after him and his precious, pretty wife.

Ryomen Sukuna who wonders what would've happened if he had just BOTHERED to reply and open the thousands of fan letters he used to get - would he have seen the letters his so-called number one fan had sent him, seen the signs of a despairing delusional madness that drove her to start hunting them both down from the shadows? Would he have paid more attention to the way doors seemed to always be unlocked when the both of you headed home, the missing personal items, the defaced pictures online of his wife?

As they all like to say, into the fire from out of the pan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna's temper his frequent viewers, family and friends were more than familiar with that made itself known when he publicly threatened whoever was breaking and entering into your shared home with something more physical than lawsuits; but how was he to know she'd take it the wrong way and somehow convince herself that his wife was putting him up to it, to make his one and only out to be the villain of this imaginary love scenario between her and him, to declare herself his “saviour”?

Ryomen Sukuna's decision to move to a new, more private and secure manor by the coast was supposed to protect you from the strange unknown figure lurking outside the house and everywhere you went. Supposed to. Somehow they found out his new home address anyway, and the only one who knew it was Choso, who swore up and down he told nobody and nobody could have possibly known.

Ryomen Sukuna's management (namely, his irritated manager Kenjaku) who finally succumbed to his harsh insults and furious demands and investigated who's been following them around lately: the truth shocked everyone to the core (could it possibly EVEN be the truth?!) when Fushiguro Tsumiki was arrested.

She might bear your son but you and I will start a clan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna ignored all the warning signs, the final letter with the ominous words of “I'll be the one to teach you love” and the Fushiguro’s protests of her innocence in favour of announcing the big news to the press and celebrating the new beginning in his and yours romance story, this time with a new addition to the family.

Ryomen Sukuna rarely slept before, preferring to stay up late memorising lines and terrorising the crew, but now was just operating on caffeine and quick naps in his worry during your pregnancy. Did he cry when baby Yuuji was born? Yes, and in his delight - although he pretended otherwise - he never noticed that one guest at every one of his conventions with an agitated expression and a hysterical, hateful grudge against you.

Ryomen Sukuna thought the business with his crazy fan stopped when he had his loyal Uraume taking care of his family on the rare occasions you didn't insist on coming to watch him work and hired a secretary to go through and filter all his letters, or maybe he was just preoccupied with watching Yuuji grow up and showering you with all the love his rough, rugged self could give…because he certainly didn't notice the new “security cameras” being set up at his house.

What a fatal mistake.

We'll be alone eventually, a couple and no longer a ban. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who staggered back and nearly killed the messenger when he heard the news, who raged internally against whatever cruel god had decided to deal him this fate: you and Yuuji had somehow disappeared when driving back from the park and even though police searched high and low you both were nowhere to be found.

Ryomen Sukuna whose world shattered when the two most important people in the world to him were declared dead. Despite Choso’s frantic persuausion and attempted comforts he vowed to never return to the world of stardom, not after his celebrity status got you both killed. He disappeared into the sea of ordinary lives, all signs of vibrancy and life gone right down to his iconic pink hair; he dyed that black, black as his heart and as black as the sky the day his darling went away, the day the letter arrived.

Ryomen Sukuna who imagined the police might make your deaths more real and not so nightmarish when they found your body, but never this way - what sort of sick bitch would send him a parcel containing the severed fingers of you ans Yuuji with a heart signed “Always your girl, Yorozu.”

I'm yours, you're mine, your wife's gone, just say she ran. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who now wanders the world, alive but alone, so ready to once love what he had had. A fate crueler than him has revealed itself, for they never did catch whoever had done the deed. The last time anyone had ever seen Sukuna at all was at the trial where Tsumiki was released.

Ryomen Sukuna who's played his fair share in horror movie of twisted endings and gruesome grief, but nobody ever told him real life was inspiration for the dark content. Everybody's long forgotten him as he slid into the role of background cameos but he never forgot how even with his fame and money he could never save you and Yuuji, much less avenge you both.

Ryomen Sukuna's half assed attempts at suicide never seemed to work out and he's nothing more than an angry shell of his former glory now. He even tore down both your photos in a fit of rage once; the man in the mirror wasn't him, surely?

They hunted in my basement but never searched my van. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who is now known for his infamous brutal homicide of one Fujiwara Yorozu with his bare, bloody hands who approached him at a shady bar and whispered she had done away with the devil, won't he ascend to Heaven with her now?

“FXXK YOU, I'D RATHER FALL TO HELL WITH HER THAN BE DRAGGED TO ‘HEAVEN’ BY THE LIKES OF YOU!”

[soot-and-salt]

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

For the new ask game, please? :D Thanks!

Henchy, my dear! :D

(This is for the Fanfic Writer Emoji game here - ask me stuff!)

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

Oh jeez. It's so hard to say nice things about your own works!!! I'm incredibly fond and proud of some of my Critical Role fics but where Hazbin is concerned, I'd say these are my top three favorites:

Take His Body As A Relic To Be Canonized: Personally, I love the vibes in this one. I allowed myself to be full out Anne Rice overwrought Catholic guilt and mourning vibes and I think it's really hits, if I do say so myself. I try to hold back on my more flowery impulses, because I will fucking gild that lily until the cows come home, but sometimes the overly ornate language can really work well. I also love that it explores ALASTOR mourning the loss of his relationship with Vox and his perspective on why it ended. I dunno, I'm just ridiculously fond of this one.

There's No Blue Monday In Your Sunday Clothes: My first Rosie/Vox/Alastor QPR fic! I love this one. I loved being able to write Rosie and examining a world where they were all the very dearest and closest of besties. I'm a huge old movie buff so I loved picking out films for them to watch together and figuring out why they'd like a certain film. I think those choices tell a lot about each character. This was also my first foray into uh my now sort of trademark "soft and lovely first half/angst and tragedy and pain second half" way of fic writing in this fandom. I don't precisely know how this happened but I'm enjoying it. Sorry to everyone's emotions that I keep crushing, I don't mean to! I'm just a silly little guy.

Fetch Quest: I love all my pure comedy fics so much (the cursed cat Alastor one is really damn funny, if I do say so myself) but for whatever reason, this one made me actual start giggling to myself as I was writing it. It was my first time writing the IMP characters from Helluva Boss but I really think I nailed them (Blitz my beloved) and I also got to fuck with Alastor a little, and who doesn't love that? I was sick as a fucking dog when I wrote it so I'm sort of amazed it's as coherent as it is? Part of me would love to write another fic with these guys, some other mission Alastor could send them on, so I guess we'll just wait for me to catch the goddamn flu again?

I'd love to know what fics of mine you guys like or what you'd like to see me write more of. I'm having so much fun in this fandom, it's ridiculous. Thank you for commenting and leaving kudos for me, they really mean a lot. <3

[sitp-recs]

H/D Suds Fest 2021 - Recs

This is yet another incomplete draft I’m finally publishing to join my other fest reclists. Suds has been one of my favorite fests since its first year and I had a blast with the 2021 collection, so many creative and sexy works across all genres, plus a few fics dedicated to one of my favourite kinks: watersports! I felt truly spoiled. I hope you guys enjoy these as much as I did, and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments. Kinky fics go with a 💦 for your convenience ;)

🛁 Is This Love? by @phd-mama + art by @slytherco - the softest established relationship fic you’ll read this week, I love so much the mutual trust and the ritualistic, cleansing aspect of a scared bath. Hurt/comfort goodness with all the feels!

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

🍸 Ceremonials by @jackvbriefs (NR, 4k) - love the mysterious atmosphere and quietly growing UST, the kind of fic that slowly unravels itself and leaves you aching for more with a lovely hopeful ending.

“What are you doing here?” Harry said. “I’m teaching you how to make a drink.”

🧼 Tastes Like Soap by InnerLilith (E, 4.6k) - I’m rapidly becoming obsessed with Lilith’s works, always so funny, refreshing, unapologetically sweet and hot. My fave brand of porn with feels and this is no exception, an unusual premise that transforms into an incredibly sensual

Harry goes to the foam party hoping to finally have casual sex. Draco goes to the foam party expecting yet another night of casual sex. Harry and Draco do not have casual sex.

🧹 Sports Star by @moonflower-rose (E, 4.8k) - delicious quidditch fic + watersports + exhibitionism aka perfectly crafted to meet my kinky tastes, I’m here for the teasing, the want, the desperation!!! So hot and addictive, unf I’m swearing here

Life as a professional Quidditch player involves a strict routine, and more hydration than Harry could have imagined. 💦

🏔 Tracing Memories on Your Skin fic + art by @iero0 (T, 4.8k) - an inventive and soothing healing fic that worked its way inside my soft heart. I love the thermals aesthetics and how these confident and mature characters meet again and gently come together.

Harry visits for his slow heartrate and shrunken lung capacity. He finds out he’s not the only one who still struggles with the remnants of Voldemort’s magic.

🍺 Float by @shiftylinguini (E, 4.9k) - this fic has shifty’s trademark combo of a light and casual get together, soft intimacy and scorching smut, I’m obsessed with how the piss kink just highlights the trust and want these two have for each other. So much character and heat!

After a night out, Harry wakes up feeling like he slept on concrete, like his body's made of sand, like he accidentally pissed on his housemate the night before. Because he did accidentally piss on his housemate the night before. 💦

🇮🇹 Postcards From Italy by @sorrybutblog (E, 6k) - sign me up for those magical cmbyn summery vibes with sweet flirting and scorching baths - a hopeful tale giving the characters the chance to live the life they want, it will make you want to live inside this Italian dream too!

A pool party, a nightclub, a bathtub. Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expected to run into the summer before his third year of university, but he's not complaining (at least not anymore).

🪶A Grey Shrike Alighted upon my Wishbone by @opalesqueopioid (E, 7k) - brilliant and quietly devastating, this fic made my body ache with such a unique premise perfectly executed, haunting and poetic in a way only romantic tragedies can be. God bless the angst!

Cursed to forget everything about Harry Potter, Draco has to kill if he wants a cure.

🧽 Playing Dirty by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 8.5k) - hilarious until it gets sinfully hot, I’m here for this chaotic Harry POV, his magic compatibility with Draco (!!🔥) and the amazing setup full of delicious ust! Such a great take on the locker room trope, if you’re a banter hoe don’t look any further and go treat yourself!

As punishment for screwing up yet another mission, and with their magic going haywire, new partners Potter and Malfoy are sent to clean the Auror locker room, the Muggle way. Will they make it out alive? Does Malfoy ever work out how to use a sponge? Do they actually even hate each other, or is it all just misconstrued sexual tension? How long until they accidentally end up naked? For answers to all these questions and more, read on.

💧Wonderful Electric (cover me in you) by @lqtraintracks (E, 10.8k) - surprising no one this became an instant fave, a gentle, liberating, unapologetic kink exploration that highlights the beauty of trust and shared vulnerability in a relationship. Unbearably tender, intimate and erotic, this is an ode to every kink enthusiast out there. The summary itself takes my breath away:

I’m never so tender with him as I am when I’m coaxing him to piss all over me. 💦

👞 On Target by @the-sinking-ship + art by @fictional (E, 13k) - perfect mix of fun and scorching, this fic has such a compelling “party atmosphere”, until it takes you into the hottest locker room sequence ever, sub Harry all thirsty for rough sex is now imprinted in my mind

A charity dunk tank, some sorry excuses for friends, a Slytherin with freakishly good aim, a (mostly) empty locker room, and one very small towel. Because, apparently, everyone is dying to get Harry Potter wet.

🌸 What Have You Been Hiding Under Those Robes, Professor Malfoy? by @thebooktopus + art by @mad1492 (E, 15k) - tattooed Draco’s a walking wet dream and we’re all thirsty for him! This is a masterclass in slow burn, I could cut the UST with a knife. This is sweet, honest, intimate and oh so deliciously hot, with a lovely ending.

After an accidental explosion in the Potions classroom, professors Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have to utilize the emergency showers at the back of the classroom. Harry is surprised to find that prim & proper Draco is positively covered in tattoos. And… are those nipple piercings? You can probably tell where this goes.

Art:

🧜‍♀️ home from the sea by @babooshkart (G) - Boo explores sweet domesticity like no one and I can’t decide if I’m more mesmerized by Draco’s extraordinary mermaid tail, or by those gorgeous bathroom aesthetics, I literally wanna have that inside my house

Draco walked out of the Channel two years before and hadn't looked back. He had a lovely flat, an exceedingly attentive (and attractive) boyfriend, and was doing well in a marine biology course at a prestigious university. Now all he needed was a bigger bathtub.

🎙 Fly Me to the Moon by @caroll-in (M) - as always Karol cures my depression and makes me laugh like an idiot with her brilliant sense of humor and charming romance. I love this suds concept, seeing them content and domestic makes my heart so soft!

Harry has a problem. A loud problem. A problem that happens to live just next door and enjoys singing way too much. And frankly, they're TERRIBLE at it!

🪞 so rest your weary heart with me by @bluebutter-art (M) - epic, poignant, devastatingly romantic. An all-time favorite. One look at this and I’m crying like a baby, I’ve got zero emotional chill for what Blue changes inside me with her art.

After the war, Harry starts to use sensory deprivation tanks to induce psychosis-like hallucinations, eager to see those who he has lost one more time. Draco helps him get back on his feet, replacing the dirty flashbacks of the war with clean memories of love. A story of what is loved, lost and found.

[naejigo]

As a fanfiction writer, I became one because I was an avid reader of ff first, and then in every fandom, they lack stories where my favorite character either dies or got seriously injured. I had to raise the number. And I did.

The next thing I know, angst and tragedy become my trademark in writing.

[ao3feed-larry]

What If It Happened On A Different Day? (You're Alive)

by goneforbooks

“Hey, Lou, please remember to bring the groceries when you get back from work, I think I might be coming late tonight, I have two projects to submit and I don’t - oh, shit, shit. Fuck! Louis, if this reaches you, I love you.”

The noise at the end of it was loud, so loud, but louder still was the scream Harry had let out and then the silence. The silence was piercing.

Words: 2176, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Car Accidents, Mentions of Injuries, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, no tragedy, Beta Read, once again Niall and Zayn are only mentioned and i feel like this has become my trademark, however, i have dialogue and actual relationship ish dynamic, thats a win

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/uZthbfC

[noodle-puppy]

Critical Role Campaign 3 Race and Class Hopes and Predictions

So here I am, going to throw my hat in the ring guessing what I think the cast of Critical Role are playing, giving that Campaign 3 is just around the corner. I’ll probably be wrong but I think I’ll have fun with this! Guesses are under the cut, as this post might get long...

TRAVIS: Centaur Order of the Lycan Blood Hunter

Travis seems to prefer melee combatants who just hit things and get the job done; supposedly he’s said somewhere about not wanting to play a full-caster, yet I’ve seen a lot of predictions for Wizard (though I can see why). Blood Hunter seems like an obvious choice, but perhaps too obvious - but I can’t deny that I would love to see Travis go full werewolf! Besides, with what happened to Mollymauk and all, this class needs more time to shine: so Order of the Lycan Blood Hunter it is! Honourable mentions to Bard, Monk and Rogue; as they’re also classes I’d like to see Travis play.

For the species pick, I’d kill to see Travis play a Centaur. The idea of a centaur werwolf is hilarious to me, and has evocative imagery! I know that as fey creatures centaurs can’t normally get lycanthropy, but I can see Matt making an exception for the reasons I just said. Realistically though, I think he’ll pick a Human, so if he does you can’t say I was wrong! >:)

LAURA: Tabaxi Echo Knight Fighter

My first thought was Bard, but after Jester I don’t think Laura will want to be a support class any time soon. I think she’ll be a melee combatant, probably one without magic since both Vex and Jester had magic at their disposal. Barbarian is a popular pick for her, and while I can see the appeal, I’m going with Fighter. Perhaps she’ll go Echo Knight as a fun callback to Jester’s Invoke Duplicity? It’d be a pretty cool subclass to see in action!

As for species, I think we all want to see a Tabaxi. I'm getting early 2000′s 3D platformer vibes from this character, akin to Ratchet and Clank and Sly Cooper.

LIAM: Drow College of Tragedy Bard

Liam has gone on record to say that he’s playing through the four traditional RPG classes: Fighter (Orym), Thief (Vax), Mage (Caleb) and Healer. Cleric seems to be the obvious pick here (and hey, it’s probably right), but honestly? I’d love to see Liam as a Bard. I think he’d have a lot of fun taking a class associated with cheerfulness and revelry and injecting it with his trademark angst and sorrow. Could be a fun subversion! Apparently Matt has a Shakespearian homebrew College of Tragedy subclass in the works, and I think I’d be perfect to debut here!

Species-wise my first thought was Warforged, since they exist in Exandria now and the idea of a robot with instruments integrated into its body is very cool (write that down!), I’d love to see an Elf in the main cast, and I can see Liam paying tribute to Essek by making a Dark Elf his choice.

SAM: Kenku Circle of Dreams Druid

I know that Liam picks Sam’s combo, but from what I’ve seen Sam is the opposite of Travis: he loves magic-based characters, cleverly manipulating the games with his usual chaotic glee. A Wild Magic Sorcerer is probably going to be the winner (I like the theory of him and Laura making Wild Magic siblings!), but if a man can dream I’d like to see him as a Druid. I’d like to see a high Wisdom character from him, but yet the idea of messing around with Wild Shape is too good to pass up. I have no preference on subclass, so I’ll just pick Circle of Dreams because it sounds cool.

As you can tell I’d like to see more monstrous characters this time around, and you know what would be perfect for Sam? A Kenku. I’d trust no one else to pull it off. Also a kenku usually has black wings, so they’re totally going to be the love interest of Marisha’s character. Nailed the most important question!

MARISHA: Fairy Oath of the Crown Paladin

Speaking of, Marisha has summoned the wrath of nature as Keyleth and the might of martial arts as Beau; so this time it’d be interesting to see her step back and make a support character instead. We’ve already got Liam as our healer, but I think it’s time we had someone start out as a Paladin! Marisha looks like she has the gusto to pull off any of the subclasses, but of the lot the Oath of the Crown is catching my eye.

Something I’d like to see from this campaign is some of the new races, and one of my new favourites was released just recently - the Fairy! Only problem is they can’t fly in medium or heavy armour, so maybe we’ll see an unconventional Paladin build here?

ASHLEY: Dhampir Way of the Long Death Monk/Phantom Rogue

I’m going to be predictable here and say Ashley’s playing a Monk, a class that she expressed interest in during the Vox Machine vs Mighty Nein oneshot. I’m picking Way of the Long Death as the subclass to pair well with my species choice. On a similar note, the Phantom subclass of the Rogue will also work, and after her miserable dice luck I’d want Ashley to play a character with a consistent set of skills: she’ll finally get a good Slealth check!

Ashley’s seems to like playing characters at extreme ends of the spectrum -  Pike and Fearne look innocent, yet hold terrifying power; Yasha looks gothic and intimidating, but is gentle and introverted outside of battle. I’d like to see a character from her who looks like they could kill you and will, and the Dhampir is a fairly new playable species which not only fits the bill, but could lend itself to some great roleplay.

TALESIN: Fire Genasi Alchemist Artificer/Genie Warlock

Talesin seems almost inscrutable to guess for, so it was a hard pick for me here. I’ve got to be honest and say that 99% of what you see here is wish fulfilment, so if I’m just pulling everything out of thin air I think Talesin has what it takes to be a great Artificer, considering he knows a lot about the game. And the Alchemist subclass means that he could have a lot of fun with a mad scientist character. But this party is skewing towards support, and I would like to see a proper caster here beside the Druid. It ultimately came between Sorcerer and Warlock, but I think Warlock wins in the end. The Genie subclass is maybe cliche considering the race I went with but again, I can do what I want :P

Genasi is one of my favourite playable species, and while I know we just had Fy’ra Rai, a Fire Genasi is going to be my pick here. A hotheaded scientist with his efreeti parent watching on is what I’m going for with these choices.

So that’s all I’ve got in me (my arm is so sore from typing this guys); I might reblog this with further thoughts once we figure out who the characters are once and for all!

[darkheart-brightsmile]

You Called Me Sweet

Barson (pre-relationship kind of) drabble, very mild angst, slightly fluffy, using the prompt - "H-how long have you been standing there?"

WC: 1277

***

“H-how long have you been standing there?” he asked, his face burning when he turned to the look at the door and saw her stood in the doorway, leaning to one side, arms folded across her chest, a small smile on her face. She looked as lovely as she always did.

“Long enough.” she shrugged, stepping into his inner sanctum, “you really went to bat for me, huh?”

He threw his phone down violently on his desk, growling some Spanish words she didn’t catch under his breath before stalking back and forth, his mind racing.

“We’re partners, ‘Liv. I’m not going to let anyone threaten you like that. If Buchanan thinks he’s going to hold me to ransom he’s got another thing coming. Slimy arrogant bastard!” Rafael spat, his eyes burning, his fists clenched at his side.

“In all the years I’ve known him, he’s always been like that. It’s why he’s a defence attorney. He doesn’t care about anything except his own reputation and having his clients found not guilty - no matter the cost to others.” she replied, sounding exhausted and unsurprised at this antics.

“That’s not acceptable, I’m not allowing that to happen.” he said firmly, slamming a hand on the desk.

“Raf, I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” she sighed, shaking her head.

“That’s not the point. He can’t make wild accusations just to try and torpedo our case. And threatening you, there’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. Does he really think your squad isn’t loyal to you? And that you don’t conduct yourself without complete integrity?” replied Rafael, his voice getting angrier and louder, echoing through the room.

“I think he’s betting that he can distract enough from his client to win. It’s not a new strategy, Rafael. We’ve seen it a million times. And sometimes it works, Buchanan is bluffing but a cop has cut a corner, and he gets what he wants.” she shrugged, stepping towards his desk and resting her hands on the back of the chair positioned opposite it.

“It’s infuriating!” he spat, his eyes blazing bright.

“I know it is. But please don’t worry about me. Worry about Rachel, and this case, and getting her the justice that she deserves.” she smiled gently, secretly touched that Rafael was defending her so vigorously.

“I’m always going to worry about you, ‘Liv. That’s what best friends do.” he gave her that half grin that made her knees go weak if she was honest. This time there was also something about his tone of voice that made her breath catch.

“Would it make you feel better if I take a step back and let Fin and Amanda take over?” she asked quietly, focussing on her own hands, and not his face, “they’ve been just as involved as I have. If we did that, would it help your case?”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” replied Rafael sighing and shaking his head.

“Would it help the case?” she repeated more firmly, looking up quickly and staring him down.

“Probably. I know I’d feel a lot better if Buchanan isn’t anywhere near you. I trust you but I would rather not have this hanging over us.” he grumbled, running his hands through his hair – a trademark sign of his uncertainty about the situation.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. If you’re free tomorrow, we can all meet, make sure this case is a solid as it can be, and that we win. And I will keep well away from it.”

“Are you micromanaging me?” he chuckled, tilting his head to watch her more closely.

“Just a little. But it’s only for your own good.” she smiled.

“I thought I was the one who was protecting you?” he replied again, moving from behind his desk to perch on the side, arms folded across his chest.

“Who said we can’t protect each other? Isn’t that how partners work?” she asked gently, her eyes warm and fixed on his.

“Very true.” he chuckled.

“For the record I think it’s very sweet that you want to defend my honour.”

“I don’t think anyone has described me as anything remotely akin to ‘sweet’ before.” he snorted, resting his hands on the edge of the desk, gripping the surface tightly, hesitance filling him as he was sure if she complimented him anymore, he would lose his mind.

“Well, you are, Rafael Barba.” she said quietly, as she stepped forwards, a slight blush gracing her lovely cheeks, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” he replied as smoothly as he could when she was stood so close, practically between his legs, her perfume wafting through the tiny amount of air between them.

She moved to press a kiss to his cheek, her hand coming up to clutch his shoulder as she did. In response he moved a hand to her waist, savouring the warmth of her body detectable through her thin blouse, one finger slipped under the fabric, and he could touch her skin. He gulped and closed his eyes and breathed her in, the feel of her lips on his now rough cheek, her fingers delicately curled into his shirt, her scent – subtle and powerful all at once. She was heaven.

“You want to get a drink?” she whispered; her face impossibly close to his.

“No.” he murmured, his hand tightening on her waist, the other coming up to stroke her cheek.

She blushed and looked down, sighing, “Dinner?”

“No.” he shook his head, pulling her closer so her free hand landed on his chest to steady herself, his thumb now tracing the line of her jaw, his eyes nearly black as he refused to look away from her.

For a second, she knew this wasn’t a good idea, it was a terrible idea. They prided themselves that despite their close bond, they had never allowed it to go further than that. But as he caressed her skin and stared at her as if she was the only person in the world, she knew that there was a reason she wasn’t pulling away.

He saw the flicker in her eyes as she had her lightning bolt realisation, and suddenly, their lips were locked together. She had never been kissed like this, passionate but gentle, he was sweet; he was confident, and loving, and so fucking sexy. His hands had moved to her lower back, desperately trying to clutch her closer, as if he desired their bodies to meld into one. And then when she felt his groan vibrate through her body she smiled into the kiss, and he pulled back.

“I’m curious what Buchanan accused me of now.” she whispered across his cheek, her lips nuzzling his face, Rafael leaning into it, rejoicing that this phenomenal woman was finally this close to him.

“Ironically, he accused you of being romantically involved with someone in the NYPD and you not disclosing.” he murmured across her skin, his lips tasting the sweet curve of her throat now and she sank into his body.

She looked shocked for a second before she burst out laughing and rested her forehead to his, breathing in deeply and relishing this new intimacy between them.

“Think we all need some irony in our lives, don’t we? Besides, technically you don’t work for the NYPD.” she replied, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.

“A technicality that I’m incredibly thankful for right now. Honestly, Olivia, I can live without irony if I can have you.” he replied smoothly and she smiled brilliantly, before touching her lips to his again. It turned out Buchanan had been right, though neither of them ever told him that.

***

@igreg04 @mhargitay64 @tinyboxxtink @lauchasstuff @nippow @chasingeverybreakingwave @i-run-with-scissors39 @barsonlover2021 @michael-rooker @alwaysachorusgirl @storiesofsvu @chunex @klk1618 @simpforbarba @dubuforeveralone @zizzlekwum @tinyboxxtink @human––tragedy @a-queen-of-chaos @raulesparza4eva @thatesqcrush @boredhufflepuff @321pm @giveyouakidney @just-vibin21 @talk-to-me-babygirl

I don't think I've missed anyone on the tag list, charming daughter has hidden my phone and it was saved on there and I'm using my laptop to post! I've also started tagging anyone who has liked or reblogged previous drabbles - if you don't want to be included I won't take offence - just let me know! :D

[drarry-with-a-side-of-harry]

SO Diamond of the Day HMMMMM this episode was not was i was expecting and IT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN I’D IMAGINED. HEARTBREAKINGLY DEVASTATING? YES OF COURSE. BUT SO SO BEAUTIFUL. i didn’t think it was going to be almost entirely Merlin and Arthur intimately talking and holding each other and everything coming out. and i’m so so happy that that’s what it was 🥺🥺🥺 it was fully just a Merthur episode. the episode we all deserved despite the tragedy because it did fit well even if it’s heartbreaking okay? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Merlin: “you’re bleeding”

Arthur: “that’s alright i thought i was dying

ARTHUR BABE COULD YOU MAYBE NOT FOR LIKE TWO (2) SECONDS???

Merlin’s just rambling about everything he’s done and should’ve done and Arthur’s just smiling at him dopily i cannot deal with this 🥺😭 and Merlin just breaks down crying as he tells him that he’s the sorcerer i- 🥺🥺🥺

the way they’re holding each other

Merlin said ‘i use my magic for you, Arthur. only for you’ 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 let’s be honest, Diamond of the Day Part 2 is all just 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 oh, and some more 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Arthur just fucking breaks when Merlin first does magic in front of him knowingly obviously lmao he’s just so scared and feels betrayed i-

when Gaius comes back with the herbs and Merlin’s angry at his dad Gaius for not getting the best things he could because he’s just so scared about Arthur this boy i swear- 🥺🥺 but Gaius just knows and tells him to go water the horses lmao come on Gaius you KING

it’s so lovely when Gaius is talking to Arthur about Merlin and trying to talk him round and then we get the gem: ‘there are those who say he’s the greatest sorcerer to walk the earth’... ‘Merlin?’ lmaoooo Arthur stop being a little shit for like TWO (2) SECONDS and listen to Gaius

Merlin is just distraught ‘i can’t let you die’ OH BABY. the ANGST i simply could not deal

then they come across the two saxons ‘you have to help us, we were ambushed’ ‘by who?’ ‘tHEse tWo mEN’ nice one Merlin glad to see your ability to lie has not improved since.. the poetry incident lmaooooooo i can’t with him then Merlin fucking magics them into oblivion and all Arthur can say is ‘you’ve lied to me all this time’ 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and the look he gives Merlin just broke me. THE ANGST

then in the forest at night Arthur half heartedly spits ‘why don’t you use magic’ when Merlin’s tryna light the fire oh baby Arthur’s so mad i can’t with this boy. you little arsehole Arthur Pendragon boy’s been saving your life since day one pipe down ANYWAY Merlin gives him a proper answer and says it’s just out of habit and he turns to Arthur and this boy just NODS AT MERLIN AND THE GROUND, WITH A SLIGHT HINT OF A SMILE AND RAISED EYEBROWS AS IF TO SAY ‘GO AHEAD, DO IT’ THE CHEEK OF THIS MAN he just wants to watch him do it. anyway Merlin does and says ‘it feels strange’ and all Arthur can say is ‘yeah’ yeh alright well done mate do better next time i know you’re dying babe but please

Arthur still has the same expression on his face, ever so slight smile, and says ‘i thought i knew you’ and Merlin’s looking at him like ‘wtf man what do you want me to say to that exactly??’ but actually says ‘i’m still the same person’ 🥺🥺🥺 ‘i trusted you’ 🥺🥺🥺🥺 ‘i’m sorry’ 🥺🥺 ‘i’m sorry, too’ 🥺🥺🥺 I’M SORRY TOO. ARTHUR SAID I’M SORRY TOO

OH I’M SORRY BUT I CAN’T ANYMORE THIS IS TOO MUCH 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

then a crazy intimate moment where Merlin takes off Arthur’s boots and Arthur’s so confused as to why he’s still acting like this UHHHHH KING that’s all Merlin’s ever done he just wants to be yours take that as you will

then Merlin’s feeding him and Arthur just comes out with it. he doesn’t understand why he would act the servant when he’s a sorcerer 🥺🥺 ‘it’s my destiny’ ARTHUR IT’S HIS DESTINY I- ‘as it has been since the day we met’ and Arthur cracks a slight smile at that 🥺🥺🥺 ‘i tried to take your head off with a mace’ ‘and i stopped you, using magic’ AND LET ME TELL YOU THESE BOYS REMINISCING JUST FINISHED ME OFF ONCE AND FOR ALL WHY IS THIS SO SOFT 🥺🥺🥺 ‘you cheated’ ‘you were going to kill me’ ‘i should have’ ‘i’m glad you didn’t’ and Arthur scoffs i’ve asked you before, can you just pipe down for a sec? thanks. and Merlin’s just saying lovely things to him and Arthur’s just looking at him so intently and sweetly ‘there’ll never be another like you, Arthur’ and then Arthur’s pondering and Merlin looks away like he’s spoken out of turn and idk man getting a bit of a GAY VIBE like he’s admitting his love and shouldn’t have. idk seems kinda gay to me. idk though

the way he holds his head while he’s feeding them yes i know this is just what you do but 🥺🥺🥺🥺

at this point every time Arthur collapses i was crying because i kept thinking he was gonna die at any minute i- i’m a mess

Arthur says ‘why did you never tell me?’ king. KING. how could he??? 🥺🥺 and Arthur just looks so so sad

the way Merlin’s holding him

Merlin tells him he didn’t want to put Arthur in that position of deciding whether or not to chop his head off and Arthur replies with a smile ‘that’s what worried you?’ 🥺🥺🥺 YES KING HE’S ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT YOU. Merlin tells Arthur that he was born to serve him and that he’s proud of that and Arthur’s just looking at him like Merlin’s just given him the world 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

‘so you’re not an idiot that was another lie’ lmaooooo king stop ‘no, it’s just another part of my charm’ and Merlin turns back to him and gives him the warmest little smile 🥺🥺 and Arthur has a little smile to himself 🥺🥺🥺

then Merlin’s doing all his little magic tricks to distract the saxons and Arthur’s watching so intently. so quizzically. and says with his trademark sarcasm ‘you’ve done this before’ and Merlin just looks at him and Arthur almost doesn’t know what to say until ‘all these years Merlin, you never once sought any credit’ YEAH WE KNOW KING THAT’S WHY YOU LOVE HIM

i just love how this episode is just the progression Arthur slowly coming to terms with who Merlin is and accepting him for it which is not what i thought it was going to be but boy oh boy am i glad that it is 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Arthur’s starts ‘whatever happens...’ and is about to say something sad and Merlin just- ‘shh don’t talk’ ‘i’m the king Merlin, you can’t tell me what to do’ ‘i always have, i’m not going to change now’ ‘i don’t want you to change. i want you to always.. be you’ 🥺🥺 this episode really gave us everything and then took it all away huh? and then they’re joking and Arthur’s delirious and passes out and Merlin’s got tears in his eyes, just holding his neck to make sure he’s ok 🥺🥺🥺

and then it’s time for Morgana to die and Arthur has to watch Merlin plunge this blade into his sister because that’s who she is even if she’s gone a bit bad lmao and Merlin says ‘goodbye Morgana’ and Arthur’s just staring like he feels nothing at this point 🥺🥺🥺🥺 but then he says ‘brought peace at last’ and i just- 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i’m broken 🥺🥺

and then Arthur collapses. and they joke about Merlin’s magic not being able to save him🥺 and Merlin’s just holding him. 🥺 because that’s what Arthur asks him to do 🥺 please. and Arthur says ‘there’s something i want to say’ and i was just sobbing uncontrollably at this point. and Merlin thinks he’s going to say goodbye. but that’s not it. of course that not it Merlin. 🥺🥺 ‘everything you’ve done... i know now. for me, for camelot... for the kingdom you help me build’ AND IT’S COMING. Merlin tells him he would’ve done it without him and i think we all know that’s not true and Arthur says ‘maybe’ with a smile at him 🥺🥺🥺 AND IT’S STILL COMING ‘i want to say something i’ve never said to you before’ and I FUCKING KNEW what it was going to be ‘thank you’ and i just broke and so did Merlin and Arthur’s just smiling at him and Merlin’s shouting his name but he’s gone and 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 he whispers ‘stay with me’ but it’s too late 🥺🥺🥺 and Merlin screams for the Great Dragon.

he tells him there’s nothing that can be done. and Merlin thinks he’s failed but dragon boy tells him that’s not the case 🥺🥺 because he’s built everything that he was supposed to with Arthur 🥺🥺🥺 ‘i can’t lose him, he’s my friend’ oh

‘Arthur is not just a king... he is the once and future king’ i-

and then Arthur’s in the boat and Merlin touches his forehead and he just breaks down crying and if i remember correctly Merlin, Arthur told you no man is worth your tears 🥺🥺🥺 and he just keeps touching him because it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. and he sets the boat off and he breaks down crying again. baby, me too

now, i don’t know if he was meant to light it up and couldn’t bring himself to??? but that’s what i’m thinking currently

OKAY I AM DONE. yes this was a post to help with the trauma. yes it’s long. i am currently dead. i’ll keep you updated lmao

[beyond-far-horizons]

Mortal Kombat (2021) Predictions/Hopes

Since we likely aren’t going to see the film for another 2 weeks (if that) *sulks* I’m doing this now before some numpty can spoil some or all of it for me.

Hopes

A really good intro to characters and lore with heart and set up for the next film.

Hopefully Sonya and Mileena get their due and other female characters are introduced as well.

Cole is relevant but Hanzo stays on as Scorpion (not sure about this :( )

There is lots of juicy angst and rivalry between Scorpion and Sub-Zero. I think this is a given with the trailers and what I have heard of the plot.

I want lots of Angry/Hurt! Hanzo/Scorpion torn between his rivalry with Sub-Zero and having a second chance at family with Cole who he becomes a reluctant mentor to. From what I’ve read Scorpion’s story is the ‘heart’ of the movie. Having a second change via Cole and his family would be a wonderful journey and it would be so good to finally see Hiroyuki Sanada play a character that displays his range in a Hollywood movie. 

Shang Tsung being more than just a card board cutout EVVVVVVVVVIL Overlord. Cary had so much fun with the role, but if they are going for more ‘realism’ I really like the hints of Shang Tsung wanting to ‘save his dying world’ and his bevy of badass ladies. I really crave bad guys that aren’t just typical bad bosses. If he cared a bit about his people that would be great. I doubt it will happen and if it did it will be limited, but I want some nuance...

Not gonna lie...I would really like some, a hint, a tiny molecule of a nod towards 1995 Shang Tsung’s villainous crush on Sonya. I feel he might develop it during the course of the movie which would put the sequel again to be a better version of 1995 movie because Shang’s desire for Sonya in that movie or how he first became aware of her is never explained. 

That being said I do NOT want Sonya objectified or put into a silly dress like 1995 movie and I don’t think it will happen as I think the filmmakers are pretty clued up. 

Predictions under the cut - don’t read if you don’t want to be potentially spoiled

Predictions

Based on trailers/teaser scenes and fan theories I think this film is something of prequel, getting main characters into place before the ‘main event’, which is one of the reasons a) Kano starts as one of good guys b) Johnny isn’t in it etc

Shang Tsung starts some drama and tries to kill the ‘chosen fighters’ before the main tournament against the Elder Gods’ rules to ensure his victory. He lost on the 10th tournament once before, he’s not going to make that mistake again damnit!

Cole is related to Scorpion/Hanzo Hasashi (this was basically given away by something I learnt from a spoiler from the prequel scene and that Lewis Tan in several social media posts is very attached to the Scorpion character as well as Cole’s yellow armbands and Scorpion appearing to him and saving him from Sub-Zero in the trailer scenes. Scorpion does not seem like the type of guy at that point to do that for just anyone. This is one of the things I’m most looking forward to and also dreading. I’m looking forward to Vengeful Fire Ghost! Hanzo being torn between his vendetta against Sub-Zero and his filial duty to Cole. I think across the movie gradually mentoring Cole will bring Hanzo back to himself after the tragedy of the first scene. Cole himself is also a father and feels like a failure so I’m looking forward to some family bonding there.

Pretty much a given that Hanzo’s family (most of them) are frozen by Bi-Han and Hanzo is killed and cursed to Neverrealm to become Scorpion.

I’m really not looking forward to this but I suspect that Hanzo played by my beloved Hiroyuki Sanada will die at the end of the film and by replaced by Cole as the new Scorpion. This is both because of Lewis’s fore-mentioned attachment to the character, Cole’s concept art that is like Scorpion’s and frankly as some rude guy pointed out on the internet Hiro is 60 and they are wanting to make this a Marvel style cinematic universe. He is a legend but I can’t see him wanting to do this for another 10/15 years (extremely happy to be proved wrong though because I will cry if this happens!) This might also be the reason Ed Boon  - one of the original creators and Scorpion fanatic doesn’t seem very hyped with the film. Who knows.

Jax tries to recruit Cole at the start and fails cos come on who would believe in fighting fantasy aliens and a guy that can freeze stuff...until they start to attack you and your family. Jax and Cole (poss family) make a run for it which leads to a confrontation with Sub Zero who freezes Jax’s arms. Cole makes it to Sonya but they don’t hold out much hope for Jax. Jax is given experimental treatment and returns to save Sonya and the gang at a plot relevant moment - cue bonding moment between Sonya and Jax. Sonya fills Cole in with much banter from Kano who is possibly Sonya’s prisoner along for the ride. They make it to Raiden’s place after Shang’s assassins attack and Kano grabs a heart. 

Kano betrays the Good Guys. This is pretty much a given with his character and background. I think he gets tempted by Shang Tsung and is given his laser eye and attacks the compound along with Shang’s fighters at the end.

Kung Lao dies and his soul is stolen by Shang Tsung. Not confirmed at all but a few things from some of the trailer scenes and something Ludi Lin said about Liu Kang ended the film having lost something important and having to search for it(?) made me think of this. Someone has to die and Shang Tsung stealing their soul sets up the Shang vs Liu Kang rivalry. Also Shang will hold a major grudge against the descendant of the dude that beat him in that previous 10th tournament. We will see. 

Raiden will at some point consult the Elder Gods...you know it’s gotta happen ;) Shang might use that moment to attack his fighters. He and Raiden have a massive fight at the end.

Shang is severely punished at the end but he squeaks out of it, either then or at the end of the next film. Some people think he may ‘win’ at the end but Raiden convinces the Elder Gods he cheated so they agree to re-stage the real tournament. I’m not sure.  But I think whoever is killed will be given an option to return if they beat Shang in the real tournament. 

Bi-Han will be killed by Scorpion and become Noob Saiboot and we will get an intro to the new Sub-Zero but he will be introduced in the sequel with a vendetta against Scorpion - either Hanzo or Cole. 

Cole’s family will be held prisoner by Shang Tsung and Sub-Zero will threaten them esp if it will get a rise out of Hanzo. Cole manages to save them.

Sonya will battle Mileena several times. Mileena will develop her trademark jaws for the second fight. Sonya will kill her at the end though. 

Princess Kitana will be introduced but be teased for the sequel. 

Johnny will make a cameo at the end - either the name or maybe an actor.

What are your thoughts? (No actual spoilers though please!)

[osrule]

HEY ISOLANS ! 

i’m ren ,  she/her & they/them ,  21 ,  in this hell site since 2013 ,  walking disaster.

i’ve always preferred independent blogs since i love focusing on one aesthetic concept for a character ,  but i’ve written in discord rp ,  and isola is my second mfrp group. 

if you need aesthetics ,  concepts or shitposting ,  i’m your guy.  hit me the fuck up.

walking disaster because i cut myself accidentally at least five times with a knife while trying to cook in one week.  help.

i also chugged six cups of coffee in three hours as gay as i can and i thought i was gonna die this is how chaotic tired i am.

sometimes i wish i was dead but what’s new.  i just project on writing so forgive me [uneasy laugh].  like i always say ,  “ life is a party and i’m the pinata ”.

my muse range is from self-sacrificial and suicidal dumbasses to soft ,  pure boys.

i can’t write female muses to save my life ironically given i’m biologically female ( except if they’re like wonder mom). 

my children i write about have either or all of the following:  anxiety ,  depression ,  family issues ,  homophobia ,  self-loathing ,  tragic history ,  being a Grade A+ Asshole with Feelings™.

that’s my trademark and criteria in relating to and choosing my muses oops.

basically i always suffer because my cup of tea is making headcanons and writing mostly about angst ,  psychological ,  relationship - based ,  au verse - based ,  canon - based need exploring ,  horror ,  hurt and comfort ,  tragedy.

i love harry osborn and dane dehaan a whole lot so you’ll find me screaming about my son at any chance i’ll get.  be warned.

please take care of me i am soft and fragile trash, handle with care.

tl;dr https://yaboyren.carrd.co/#about

[pawnshopsouls]

ooc/PSA! Moving toon!aus to ToonlyBones and keeping canon!bros here

//Okay so this has been on my mind a lot recently and I’ve finally decided to move the ToonBros!AU to my @toonlybones but there are definitely going to be changes. Firstly, any rp done with the Toon!versions of Sal and Bonely will be answered by @toonlybones from now on. More changes and their reasons are listed below!

//Ok so I dunno if this has been happening to anyone else but I’m having a lot of struggles writing my boys in their Toon!Verse and it’s mostly to do with the fact that I’m not having fun anymore.

//See, the whole thing with putting Sal and Bonely in the toon world was because toon shenanigans are FUN. They’re fun to watch, fun to do, and are a general relief from the over bearing angsty events IRL.

//I mean, in Bonely’s original Batim draft, he were bouncy, mischievous and had PLENTY of things that he could utilize his shenanigans on. Visual puns, gags, the whole shebang! And then there was Sal, the pious pied piper of the graveyard who could charm spirits with his songs and discipline unruly critters with his shovel or other things.

//But as I put them into the cuphead fandom, there came with it these kind of unsaid restraints??? Like, a lot of folks had really amazing ocs but as time went on, interacting with the fandom made it feel like cuphead characters & ocs had less actionable toon freedom than toons in Who Framed Rodger Rabbit. I mean, EVEN THERE toons in the real world had the ability to apply toon-logic to the world around them. A perfect example is the whole “Not any time, only when it was funny” gag thing - with the key word being “FUNNY”.

//I think Wally Franks from BATIM put it best when he said “Hello, you’re making cartoons! Your job is to make people laugh!”

//However, as I’ve been looking around in the cuphead community, it's mostly angst, tragedy, and sex. I mean, sure those are trademarks of the Mafia theme & era, but even when mentioned in cartoons it was done in such a way that it was entertaining to the viewers and probably the makers too. (Think “The Mask” but 2D!) But things have gotten so dark and there’s so little humor around anymore that bringing them out has been like bringing a clown to a funeral parlor. It doesn’t work and neither party enjoys the interaction.

//See, my toon boys are not “serious” toons - or rather, they weren’t meant to be. They were meant to be comedy+adventure centric toons (bc oneshot jokes aren’t really my thing) and so need to be involved in comedic adventures to stay happy. But most of the toons around have been very “serious toons” and in trying to play with the various “serious toons”, the Bros become overly serious themselves - to the point that I might as well rp the Canon!Bros since that would give them a bigger ability to interact and play off of the world(s) around them.

//So from now on I’m going play the toon!bros and studio!toons as kind of batim/”who framed rodger rabbit” cross over they originally were. They aren’t going to deal with things like a “serious” toon, where the effects are the same as if they were human. They are going to be toons. Wacky, funny, exuberant toons who enjoy the world as much as they enjoy their own shenanigans. I’m also going to stick with the

//Anyway, thanks for reading this and I hope you guys will stay on board for this big change to these boys. UuU

[kokichi-and-co-imagine-blog]

How about this: Mods choose the angst and characters for this one! No hand holding or prompt, just pure mods angst.

Heed the crying Ouma, angst ahead.

Mod Nagito makes an entrance!!

-Hajime hasn’t been the same

-Ever since he came back, he’s lost the light

-that light of hope

-He doesn’t even let me touch him..

-Unless….

-He wakes up in the middle of the night either screaming or crying

-Sometimes I find him curled up in the fetal position in the corner of the room shivering

-I wrap my arms around and and try to get him to understand he’s finally safe

-he doesn’t want to leave my side

-If I exit a room he’ll follow me

-Loud noises even make him freak out

-My poor Hajime….

-What happened to you…..?

-Who would be so full of malice that they would hurt you …?

-He’s eating a little more everyday though

-When he was found, Hajime was so sickly looking…

-Now he’s slowly regaining his colour

-But his eyes…

-I want to bring the light back to them….

Modokuma and the Yeti

Ah, I understand. I’m probably heading to the Animal Kingdom soon, so I’ll try to join later. I have a FastPass for Expedition Everest today.

Soon. Soon I will meet the Disco Yeti.

We’ll lock eyes, a surge of passion flowing between the two of us, leading to a complicated tragic love story which ends in nothing but tragedy…

For him.

As I will have murdered him in cold blood for all his prized possessions.

No one will miss him, not after all the innocent people he’s plagued, whether it was due to misunderstandings or not.

Not even I will miss him.

Especially when he starts to haunt my dreams at night, the guilt driving me to the ends of my sanity.

Eventually, even my beautiful black fur starts to become patchy and turn white from the fear and stress.

Before I know it…

I have become the new yeti.

Is this what happened to the first one?

Is he even the first one?

It matters no more, as now I can’t even speak in that old, adorable voice of mine.

All my cries for help only produce a despair of which I cannot even enjoy.

This is a Hell I’ll never be able to escape.

(no wonder we love modokuma.)

Asahina tries her hand at Poetry

I wanted to take a page off of Fukawa’s book and do a little bit or writing. The thing is that i am bad at making long and amazing text so i did the next best thing and did haikus based off my time at hope’s peak academy:

Chapter 1:This school is the worst. Monokuma’s such a tool. I miss swimming pools.

Chapter 2: Oh My God She’s Dead.Never mind it is a he.I miss Krispy Kreme.

Chapter 3: Trying to stay calm.Robo hero looks so cool.Robo killed them all.

Chapter 4: Chilling with my friend.No no no no no she’s dead.I WILL KILL YOU ALL.

Chapter 5: Who the fuck is she?This case is unsolvable.Bye bye makoto.

Chapter 6: Time to end this game.All we need is hope to live.Time to leave this school.

Mod Kokichi’s contribution, AKA I’m in my element.

Kokichi found himself looking around, remembering the voices from before he found himself in the game.

That’s right, this was all just a game. He knew that to the people around him, he was nothing more than a pawn in their game. He was just a small, meaningless ripple in their fabric that could just as easily get erased.

He stood underneath the streetlight, shivering violently. He felt a breeze go down his back, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had any reason to be here.

He laughed darkly as he kicked a pebble. He moved to the edge of a cliff. He calmly sat down on the edge, holding himself as he remembered the faces that seemed to blur as he stood on the subway. They seemed to glow and merge together, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were laughing or talking about him. He wished he could banish everything that was haunting him away, pulling at strands of his purple hair while he continued to laugh, abandoning the pebble.

It would be so easy to just push himself off the edge and just become another statistic people would spread on social media. He could just be labeled as another soul lost to their own thoughts and fallen into something beyond despair. He thought about if he was ready to do something so insanely drastic. He turned his back away from the edge, closing his eyes.

“Wait, Kokichi!” A voice called. He opened one eye to see an all-too-familiar detective running up to him. He figured that Shuichi would’ve been hot on his tracks, but didn’t realize he would get a chance to talk Kokichi down. Annoyed at his own miscalculations, he sighed as he shook his head slowly, holding his hands out as if he had nothing to offer.

“Wow, I didn’t realize detectives were this persistent on finding people. Maybe I shouldn’t have underestimated you, Shuichi. It was silly of me.” His trademarked grin spread maliciously as he looked toward the detective. He was wearing his hat again, but only out of the comfort it brought him, not so much due to the same insecurities that had once controlled him entirely. Kokichi had seen Shuichi grow as a person, yet he still had some of the same setbacks he had when they first met. He often doubted his own deductions after an incident with someone close, and his eyes betrayed how close he felt the truth was. Thinking about it, Kokichi thought that, in a way, detectives were also liars. They all seemed to act neutral to death and look for clues as though it were just a simulation. Shuichi, however, was different. The fear and sadness in his eyes would flash the first time he saw the victim, and he would always ask about the victim to know them beforehand.

He probably didn’t think he would firsthand see someone die right before his eyes, Kokichi thought. He half-regretted this being their reunion after so long- after all the breadcrumbs he had left behind, half hoping that he would figure out that Kokichi just needed Shuichi to find him. Before it was too late.

“So, Kokichi, are you going to tell me the method to your madness this time? Or are you just going to stand there and give me this… deer in the headlights look you have?” Shuichi asked, taking a step towards him. Kokichi took a step back, only to remember that if he moves any further, he’d fall. He quickly looked down and back at Shuichi, putting his hands out in front of him.

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” He yelled, wincing at the sound of his own voice echoing. Shuichi stopped, wide-eyed as he kept his eyes on the smaller boy. “Get any closer, and I’ll… I’ll jump! And that’s not a lie!” He felt himself stiffen at his own words, not sure what Shuichi would do. The blue-haired boy looked worried before nodding, and sitting on the ground far away. Kokichi looked confused, but saw Shuichi pat the ground.

“Then, uh… can you at least sit? You don’t have to move yet, but sitting and talking seems okay. That way I… I don’t get close to you, and you don’t, uh…” Shuichi cleared his throat and quickly wiped a hand over his eyes. Kokichi didn’t want to believe that it was possible that Shuichi was crying over him. He slowly loosened his body up before letting himself sit in the dirt that would inevitably get his clothes stained. At least he wasn’t planning on having to wash them anyways.

Curiously, he watched as Shuichi sighed, patiently waiting for Kokichi to talk a he sat criss-cross in the dirt, his eyes fixated on him. The eyes reminded him of those that had stared him down before striking him into the floor, usually accompanied with laughter of some sort. Laughing. Laughing. Laughing laughing laughing laughing laughing all at him. He felt himself reach for his hair and pull, making Shuichi look like he was ready to bolt to grab him.

“A-are you okay, Kokichi?” He asked in a slow yet intense voice.

“What do you think. You’re the fucking detective, aren’t you,” Kokichi said calmly as he gently caressed some of his own hair. If he focused on the texture of the follicles, maybe he wouldn’t have to see how hurt Shuichi would be by that comment.

“Of course I am, but I think maybe you should say it all yourself. You always were steps ahead of me before, so this shouldn’t be any different. I can wait, you know. We have time.”

Time, Kokichi pondered.Did they really have the time that Shuichi claimed they had? Was this just his way of stalling in hopes of talking him out of his plan? While he knew that was definitely it, he humored the detective, scooting slightly further from the edge.

“Oh, so you noticed. Yeah, you’re right.” Kokichi sighed as he dropped his hand from his hair and looked at Shuichi with an unfitting playful glance. “I always knew before you did. Isn’t that how our dynamic always was? You, the sweet and innocent detective who was afraid to get his hands dirty, and yours truly, the dastardly menace who went out of their way to get the clues so you didn’t have to? That’s as close as we ever got to being friends.”

Shuichi felt the sting behind his words, and bit his lip. He had never really thought of Kokichi as someone who was helping him, but that didn’t stop him from believing that they were friends. So why? Why was he hurting like this without telling Shuichi? He took the time to take out a folded piece of paper that had a sort of will written on it, and put it up where he knew Kokichi would see it. Almost guiltily, the purple-haired boy swung his head the other way, realizing what it was.

“I found this, and I… I’m sorry, but I read it. It was the only way to know for sure this was what you were doing. And I… I didn’t know you felt like this.” Shuichi admitted, feeling horrible. He didn’t expect Kokichi to be hurting the way he said in the note. He didn’t expect that this was something he was raised to do.

He didn’t expect that telling Kokichi he was alone and always would be would be in a suicide note he found.

“Oh, that thing? It’s nothing. I think you should reconsider everything you read. Who knows? I could’ve just been lying, like you always say I do.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I was so hurt by your lies because I loved you! I loved you, you asshat!” Shuichi raised his voice, causin Kokichi to scramble to his feet. He could hear the screaming that filled his house before he had to find a new family in a group he could trust. He could hear the seething rage as his father threw a glass to the floor, yelling that they should have just sent their son into adoption. It took a moment before the words Shuichi actually sunk in, and he stood still, looking down.

“Liar.”

“What?”

“I said… YOU’RE A LIAR!” Kokichi screamed, whipping his head up to show angry tears streaming down his face. He wished there had been some rain to cover them up as nothing more than tracks left by droplets from the sky, but he had no such luck.”YOU NEVER LOVED ME. NO ONE DID!” His shoulders shook as he lowered his head back down along with his voice. “No one did.” A dirty sleeve went over his eyes as he tried to wipe away some of the tears that had sprung out from him, and he looked away. Shuichi slowly stood up, debating on walking over to Kokichi.

“How would you know that?” Shuichi asked cautiously. He had been telling the truth, and he was curious as to why Kokichi was calling him out on a lie that didn’t exist. He had always been scarily good at knowing what was true and what was a lie. This shouldn’t have been an exception. “You know I’m telling you the truth.” Shuichi continued, looking at the letter he had brought out. Kokichi looked up at him with puffy eyes, trying to read for some hidden malice he wouldn’t find.

“Come here then.”

Shuichi walked up to Kokichi slowly as to not disturb him. Kokichi had never been so open about what he felt before, and he was wondering if he’d finally get to embrace him the way he wanted to from the beginning. He stopped inches away from Kokichi without touching him. The Ultimate Supreme Leader scanned him up and down before gently putting a palm on Shuichi’s face. His skin was so warm, and his eyes were just on him. He wanted nothing but the best for Kokichi, and every inch of him was screaming that. His hands fidgeted as he was about to raise a hand to touch Kokichi, but never got the chance.

“You’ll thank me for this, Saihara. You’ll thank me.”

With that, he pushed Shuichi away and held his arms out like wings, once again close to the edge. Before Shuichi could reach him, Kokichi Ouma had fallen too far to be saved.

He was gone.

And, to Shuichi, it was all his fault.

((Mod Kirigiri: Apologies for the delay, but I’ve had to stay in a hotel fro the past few days with spotty-at-best wifi. I chose to do this on Maizono, as she hasn’t gotten much attention on this blog, and she’s a somewhat fascinating character to me… And it totally isn’t part of some other project I’m not sure if I’m gonna go through with yet, nope))

Pain…

Cold…

Regret…

Those three things were all Sayaka could feel as her body slumped against the bathroom wall. The chill of the tile encompassed her, yet she did not shiver. She had no strength for it.

She took another ragged breath as more blood seeped from her wound.

“I shouldn’t have done this…”

Another gasp for air.

“I deserve this…”

Another chill went down her spine. Black dots started to cloud her vision; the lights suddenly seemed much darker than they had a few minutes ago. She felt the overwhelming urge to cry but simultaneously had no energy to do so, so she didn’t. Rather, she sat there, drawing in what little air she could, knowing that one of those labored breaths was soon to be her last one. Her eyes trailed up onto her attacker—the one who was supposed to have been her victim.

Leon was looking down at her, skin whiter than snow, a horrified expression with his mouth twitching, and his shirt splattered in blood—her blood, not just the design on his shirt anymore. He was saying something, muttering in a panic probably. She wasn’t sure, she couldn’t hear him anymore. His expression frantic, Leon ran a hand through his hair, looked around the bathroom, looked down at himself, then took off back into the bedroom, leaving the door only half closed behind him, and leaving her to her own demise in solitude.

It was fair, she supposed. She never should have come up with this plan in the first place. Grabbing the knife, tricking Naegi into swapping rooms, the plan to frame him, calling for Leon, none of it should’ve happened. And in the end, none of her steps mattered anyway; she couldn’t follow through, she had hesitated when the time came for action, and now she was to die for it.

“Naegi…” She let out a gasp at the thought of him.

Naegi, who trusted her.

Naegi, who had supported her.

Naegi, who had promised to get everyone out alive.

She had betrayed him. He was so kind and sweet and optimistic, and she had taken advantage of that. She was so ready to kill, so ready to blame Naegi, let him take the fall, all so she could get and leave the game behind; she thought she’d beaten the game. But ultimately, she’d fallen victim to it exactly as Monokuma had wanted her to.

That damn bear. It was all because of that stupid bear…

Even in her weakened, dying state, the thought of that two-toned bear sent a hot surge of anger flaring through her. Her unbroken hand clenched and shook with a fury she didn’t know she still had in her.

“I have… to do… something…!” With a great amount of effort, she was finally able to force herself to raise her head. A breathy groan escaped from her lips as she did so, the lights suddenly seeming so blinding to her rapidly fading vision. She squinted at the harsh lights, then moved to observe the room.

She had to help Naegi. It was the least she could do for him after everything she’d tried. But what could she do? She was bleeding out. Her time was limited; it needed to be clear, but something she could do quickly.

“Ngh…” An attempt to move was met only with more pain as the knife embedded in her moved with her. Another line of blood streamed out of her wound. She winced again at the reminder of her imminent death.

Was there anything within her reach, something she could use to leave a clear message as to her did her in? She tried to lift her head to look again, but found that even that task had become too difficult.

There was nothing around that would be useful. The bathrooms in all of the dorms were barebones, holding only a few hygiene products they needed. The shower head hung by her side, easily grabbable if she chose to. But what use would that have? It would only waste her fading strength faster. The only thing that was arounder her in excess was her…

Her own blood…

“My… blood!” Her eyes widened slightly as the idea popped in her head. Her blood was everywhere, staining the walls, filling into the cracks between the tiles and beginning to pool underneath her. It was a grisly sight she knew, but it would do just fine. This was her only chance to clear Naegi’s name.

Her blood would serve as the ink for her last message to Naegi, her apology of sorts to him.

With a quickly fading strength, Sayaka reached her unbroken hand down, fingers outstretched, and gathered some of her own blood. She suppressed the urge to cringe at the feeling of it, the coppery sent wafting into her nose and sending more chills through her body. Slowly, she began to write her message. She had to be careful; if the message was unclear, then it would all be for naught.

L…

Her fingers moved smoothly as she painted the first letter. The tile felt cold under her shaking fingers.

E…

None of this absolved her of her attempted crime, she was well aware of that fact. Leon would no doubt latch onto accusing the suspect she’d created in Naegi just to save himself from being caught.

O…

But this was all she could do now. She was dying, she could blame no one but herself for that fact.

N…

Her task completed, her arm went limp, fingers uncurled, and a feeling of tiredness washed over her. Even keeping her eyes open was becoming a struggle. She let them shut, no longer able to fight. Her time was close.

In her final moments, her mind wandered on her past memories. It went to her friends and the many moments she’d shared with them. Their first recording, the release of their first album, touring, so many fond moments to recollect on. They were the girls she’d worked so hard with for her dream, the ones who’s supposed demises inspired her to participate in this sickening game. She had to wonder though, were they really dead? Was she about to meet up with them in whatever afterlife or fate awaited her after her death, or was it all just a lie? She wasn’t sure which answer she preferred.

There were just so many unanswered questions. Who was sick enough to orchestrate this kind of game; who was Monokuma’s puppeteer? Why was Hope’s Peak chosen as the playing grounds and why was she and her classmates the ones to play it? Did anyone on the outside know about their situation? Did help try to save them? Was she just a fool for believing Monokuma’s lies? (She had a feeling she could already answer that one)

So many questions, and yet she’d never know the answer to any of them.

A new burst of pain made her already labored breaths near impossible. She let out her final wince as her head fell back against the wall. Everything felt so heavy, she just wanted to go to sleep. With one last gasp for air, she let a white take over her vision, despite her eyes still being closed. Her body fell limp against the wall, the color fading from her face.

And Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Pop Sensation, would never move again.

[serensama]

To Mourn #2

Here is Zenny’s!  I’m sorry, I know I promised Yoosung smut- but due to the current events in my life I can’t write smut. It would be the most awkward smut imaginable and I can't have that. So- here is Zen, hurting, a lot.  This will include:  1) Some profanity 2) Angst, tragedy, character death 3) Mentions of mental illness/delusions 

Hush-a-bye, dear Eponine  You won’t feel any pain-  A little fall of rain can hardly hurt you now I’m here… I will stay with you Till you are sleeping  And rain- Will make the flowers- .... grow 

“A little fall of rain”- Marius, Les Miserables.

  He had her pressed against the dresser, the bottles of makeup falling and rolling off the table as he pushed her further along the surface. His hands marked at the mirror and flinched away reflexively as his fingers found one of the hot lightbulbs that framed it. MC laughed between his kisses as she took his hand and kissed and sucked at his sore fingers, making him chuckle as he nipped at her neck. Zen pulled back to look down at her, pushing her hair out of her face to see more of her beautiful face. She was radiant. The glow of the lights behind her giving her an almost ethereal halo around her hair, her cheeks flushed from their kisses and her smile as bright as any spotlight.

Zen bit down on his bottom lip, he wanted nothing more than to continue this little interlude of theirs but they had somewhere to be and they were already running late as it was. They had stayed back as all the other actors and crew filtered off to the club where their after party was being held but he and MC walked the stage, hand in hand. He let his hand trail over the set and props, sometimes picking one up and regaling her with a funny story behind it from one of their rehearsals. MC squeezed at his bicep when he took a particularly long look at the chairs and table he had sung his exceptionally heart wrenching solo upon.

This would be his final production, for a little while anyways, the couple agreeing that his career was stable enough for him to take a year long break from acting. That it would be a year for him and her. The year that they would finally make honest people out of each other and tie the knot; they were tired of waiting for his god forsaken family’s approval and… Zen really wanted to be husband… and a father. It crept up on him out of nowhere, seeing MC interact with the actors who played Gavroche, Cosette and Eponine whenever she visited him in between rehearsals- how they would run to her and jump up and down all excited as she would always have some sweet treat for them tucked away in her purse. He would love seeing them act out their scenes just for her and her expressions as she watched them- like an adoring mother watching her children play. It made his stomach flip and his heart race. He was ready. He, well they, had focused so much on his career… it was time for them to focus on them and their future. He wanted this.

Still they took their time to let him say farewells to the stage he had so happily acted upon for almost a year, the audience calling for encore after encore, his performance so well received he would get standing ovations upon his curtain call. He wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t going to miss it; but to say he wasn’t excited to spend an entire year with his, well, soon to be wife- that would be the lie. The idea of spending days in bed with her, able to take all the time he wanted with her, his fingers tracing over her body with his lips following suit; just to be able to worship her as she deserved… heaven. No more strict schedules or disciplined diets or workouts- just him and MC with all the time in the world. He had never looked forward to being an unemployed actor more in his entire career.

Taking a deep breath as he faced the empty chairs in the theatre, Zen grinned. Actually… he wasn’t going to miss it at all. “Come on Jagi, let’s get to that party.”

  A loud crash of thunder boomed as they moved their way through the backstage hallways, the walls vibrating from the sheer strength of the sound. MC cursed her luck as she left her umbrella at home in her rush to get to the theatre to see Zen’s final show; she was grateful for the fact that the club would be dark and no one would be looking at her with Zen beside her. That boy looked amazing even coming in from a torrential downpour where should would look like a drowned rat with some seriously smeared eyeliner. Ah well.

Looking down at her, Zen laughed as he opened his trademark white coat and stretched it out and over the both of them as a makeshift cover as he nodded towards the door, silently asking MC to open for him. The moment she did, a roar louder than the thunder erupted- dozens upon dozens of Zen’s fans had waited for him in the cold and rain just to get a glimpse of the actor. MC looked up at Zen and gave him an impish smile and shrugged weakly, what could they do? They were his public. The ones who made all of this possible, he had to attend to them.

The actor watched as MC stepped dutifully to the side after giving the fans a quick wave, ready to let him do what he normally did; but he didn’t want to. Not today. This was the start of it being just him and MC and whilst he felt nothing but gratitude to those fans, he was tired of seeing the woman he loved always step aside as if something were more important than her. No more. Not this time. Zen stood forward slightly and raised his arm up in the air to wave and silence the crowd of screeching fans, the noisy din quieting down in a matter of seconds the moment they realized their idol wanted to address them. Collecting his thoughts so he didn’t sound like a blabbering mess, he clapped his hands together and began to speak from the heart.

“My dearest fans! Thank you for coming to watch my final performance and for braving such terrible weather to see me. You will never know what this means to me,” he said as his crimson eyes scanned the crowds in an attempt to look at them all in eyes. “I want to thank each and every one of you personally but as it is, we’re already really late for something and we need to go. I… I feel terrible that you were all here for so long only to leave you so soon- if I had known, I would have been out earlier.”   The crowd deflated and sounds of disappointment and annoyance hissed through them, but still they understood that he was a busy man and it was a gamble to wait for him at all. “I’m so sorry guys- truly. I’ll find a way to make it all up to you, but we have to go and you guys need to get out of the rain and dry off! I can’t have my best fans sick! I’d feel absolutely horrible!” he said, flashing his most dazzling smile and cheesy thumbs up which had almost everyone eating from the palm of his hand. “Thank you every one! I love you all and I will see you all soon!”

The crowd cheered and offered their support to their favourite actor as the couple descended the stairs, Zen taking the jacket and covering them both again in an action which had almost all of his fans swooning at how chivalrous and romantic he was, a chorus of well wishes and goodbyes following them as they passed them on the way to their car. They were ten steps away from it when Zen felt a tug of his arm and a heard a high yelp of surprise. He spun around to see a woman pull MC back, her hands clamped tightly around her forearm as she screeched incoherently into her ear, MC wincing back with discomfort. Zen could feel his blood boil, no one touched MC like that, not a man, not a woman. No one hurt his girl.

“Hey!” he barked, loud enough for his voice to carry throughout the parking lot, silencing the cheering fans and startling the angry woman enough to turn towards him. “Let her go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as he gestured towards MC, his hand out ready to hold hers. The agitated fan turned back to MC, her eyes squinting until they were barely slits on her face, her mouth twisted into a hideous sneer as she pulled the woman down and back so she lost her footing on the slippery surface and fell hard on her coccyx.  Zen was at her side so fast he almost lost his balance trying to get there, his hands patting at her body softly all the while asking if she was hurt, if she was okay. Which was apparently the wrong thing to do. “This woman! Zen! This woman is what is wrong in this picture!” she yelled, pointing at her with a shaking finger, her eyes burning with such ire that MC flinched into Zen’s protective grasp. Shaking his head as he helped her up, covering her head with his jacket, he simply chose to ignore the crazy woman and just continue on their journey. “She is holding you back Zen! If it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t be taking this year long hiatus! If it wasn’t for her you’d have been out here earlier! You’d be here with us instead of taking care of such a pathetic girl who isn’t even worthy of you! She’s disgusting! She’s ruining your life!”

He couldn’t let that pass. He was many things but he was never a liar.  He would not let those fallacies remain unchecked.

Zen tightened his grip around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her covered head, a silent plea for her not to listen to the mindless drivel this woman was spouting. Lies. Misconceptions. Delusions.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he began quietly, his hand running up at down MC’s arm to help warm her up in the pouring rain, the cold droplets barely registering in his periphery, his body so fired up with rage it felt almost nice against his skin. “But you need to step away and leave. You know nothing. You talk about things you don’t have a damn clue about, mixing your own screwed up feelings into your own version of truth- you’re blind. You can’t see how much I love her and how much she has done for me. If you can’t see that- you are no true fan of mine.”

Zen placed another kiss on top of his lover’s head as he guided her back to the car, their footsteps slow and cautious. The actor could hear the hushed whispers of the other fans- and the ragged breathing and whimpering of the woman he had reprimanded, whether they agreed with the woman or with him he didn’t know- didn’t care. None of this matters, if MC stays in this weather for any longer she’s going to get sick, I can’t be the reason my girl suffers. “You… you don’t know who I am? I helped make you! I was there from the start! From your first play to this one- I was there in the front row twenty-two times!” she cried, pulling at her hair like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. That throughout his career not once had he noticed her, understood what she had done for him. The money she had sacrificed to see his shows, the relationships that ended because the men couldn’t understand that he came first for her- he always came first and he… he didn’t even know she existed. “I am your only true fan!” she wailed as her fingers clutched at her chest, her nails leaving angry red scratches at the skin of her décolletage.  

Zen stopped and ground his teeth together, his quick temper getting the better of him. Turning around and tucking MC behind him, the loud chattering of her teeth a timer to remind him to keep it quick, to defuse the situation and get her warmed up. Fuck the party. They were going to go home where he could run her a hot bath and sit in the tub with her, pull small body against his, long limbs wrapped around her to keep her warm and safe. The candles he’d light beforehand dwindling down as they stayed in water just enjoying their time together. There would be a thousand parties in the future, why would missing one matter?

“T-True fan? True fan?!” he scoffed as he pushed his hair out of his face, the long strands sticking to his wet skin. “You are bat-shit crazy lady. I don’t know you. You didn’t do shit for me- but you are making me angry. You hurt my fiancé, you say horrible things to her- if you were a true fan you would know what she’s done to help my career. To help me. If you’re a true fan- I don’t want any part of it.”

The woman screamed as her whole world was torn to shreds by the man at the very centre of it. How could he say such things? How could turn his back on everything they had been through together?  He had sung for her, looked at her all those times when he said those lines- he would say different names each time but she knew he was talking to her. What they meant to each other, it wasn’t all in her head, it wasn’t! He was so loyal to her all those years- more than five years he stayed alone to prove his devotion to her and to his career. Then overnight it seemed to change… why… why did it… Casting her gaze on the woman behind him, suddenly everything made sense. It was her. It was her fault. She did this- she tainted Zen, her Zen, shaped him into something she wanted and made sure that he only focused on her. Selfish. The bitch was selfish. Zen was hers. Zen was theirs. And she was trying to steal him from them. No, never! Zen was hers. Zen was hers.

  Screams.

That was the first thing he recognized. So many screams. Was he… was he backstage? Was the crowd still begging for another song?... wait… no… no they’re not screaming for him… they were scared… Why?

-Why was he on the ground?

Zen looked up and there was MC, standing in front of him, shaking in the rain, his soaked through jacket askew, dangling off of one shoulder. Silly girl. She was going to get sick and she was a terror whenever she was ill. She would mope and beg for attention and love and… wait… perhaps a little sniffle wouldn’t be terrible. He could play knight in shining armor for her.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked him, not looking back, her eyes focused on what he remembered must have been the deranged fan. He nodded and made a noise of agreeance in the back of his throat as he clambered up to check if he was hurt anywhere. He wasn’t. “I’m fine, Jagi,” he added as he threw his arm over her shoulders again, not expecting the violent wince and cry of pain that came for her. Alarmed by her severely shaking frame, Zen finally looked further than her face and down her torso- her lovely white dress (“I wore it to match you tonight, Zenny!”) stained by a flourish of dark red against her middle. A mark that grew more vivid as she grew paler. Stealing a look at the woman before them… sure enough… there she stood, frozen, with a smoking gun in her hand. Shrieks could be heard as the mob of Zen’s fans rushed her, pinning her down and kicking away the weapon- not that he cared. Not when all he could truly focus on were the soft breaths that fell from her lips. “So… you’re not hurt?” she repeated as a weak smile formed across her face, her fingers finding the hem of his shirt and curling around the fabric. Zen shook his head, his throat constricting so tightly he couldn’t find his voice. “Oh… that’s good then.”

MC fell harshly to her knees and was almost about to fall forward onto her face before long, strong arms wrapped around her. Zen sat upon the ground with his fiancé shaking in his arms, her makeup falling in dark rivulets down her face, her tears camouflaged by the rain. He heard someone yelling for them to call an ambulance. To get help.

He didn’t recognize his own voice.

All he saw was his future smiling up at him, her lips moving, she was saying something but what? What? Zen focus! “… We’re going to be so damn late...” she laughed before grimacing a hiss of pain escaping between the gaps in her teeth. Zen looked back down to her stomach, with each word she said or with each laugh, more blood seemed to pour out of her. Ignoring the cry of anguish she made when he placed his hand to her wound, he pressed down firmly, desperate to keep every last drop he could inside of her where it belonged. “It’s okay, Zen-” she tried to say only to stop midsentence at the furious look he gave her. “It is not okay, MC!” he growled, there she was bleeding out and she was trying to comfort him. Nothing about their situation was right. They were supposed to be surrounded by their friends laughing the night away, getting drunk and having celebratory sex the moment they stepped back into their apartment. She was meant to be happy and healthy, not dying in a dark, cold parking lot surrounded by strangers. “But it will be. It will be. Someone’s getting help, so just, just stay with me okay? You listen to me and stay just a little bit longer. You’re going to fine baby.”

Her smile grew wider. Tinted with blood. It was still the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Screw this, I’m getting you to the hospital- just hold on Jagi,” he spoke more to himself than to her, lifting her up as gingerly as he could. MC screamed, her cries gurgling in her throat wet with her own blood, small trails bubbling out of the sides of her mouth. Zen cursed under his breath as he resumed their previous position, wiping away the red, smearing the colour against her skin. Even in the rain, it wasn’t coming off. He tried to calm himself even as his heart banged away in his chest and his eyes stung, his lungs closing up as he choked on his own staggered breaths. Just a little longer, he would hear those sirens and the flashing lights of their saviours and everything would be just fine. He would sing to her in the hospital bed as she recovered and get yelled at by her for hovering like a worried mother. He just knew it. She was going to show off the scars from her wounds in no time at all. His Jagi was the strongest woman he had ever met. This was just a scratch. A scratch. She was even laughing through her tears. No one was stronger than her.

“Why are you laughing MC?” he asked a wry smile on his face, belying the way his heart clenched at the hollow sound of her once joyous laughter. A heavy and haunting sound that Zen knew would fill his nightmares for the rest of his life. MC looked up at him as she laid her hand on top of his, their interlaced fingers painted with her blood. “It’s… it’s almost funny, don’t you think? This is life imitating art…just like the scene in your… in your p-play… where Eponine and… and Mari-” “Don’t.” “Don’t you fret… Monsieur-” “Stop it!” he snapped, his hand putting more pressure on her wound than normal causing the woman to gasp, remorse flooding his system instantly. “I’m sorry! God- I’m so sorry! I just… please don’t…” he begged as he hung his head so their foreheads could touch. She was so cold. “I’m sorry,” she replied, her hand finding the back of his head, her fingers clumsily patting away at his ivory strands. “It’s not funny,” he wept, the dam finally breaking, his voice cracking as he held on to her; wishing against all hope his warmth would pass to her. To keep her with him that little bit longer. He could almost hear the sirens. “This isn’t funny MC! How can you be laughing at something like this?”

MC’s hand slid down to caress the side of his cheek, pushing him away slightly so she could peer into those crimson depths- eyes she had so completely fallen in love with. She wanted to see them, to be the last thing she saw before she left that life, she didn’t want to see them filled with tears… but to be crinkled in a smile. One last smile for her. “I’m sorry-” “Please stop apologizing-” “I’m… I just…” she trailed off as her particularly hard shake raked through her body, her eyes squeezed shut as she bit down on her lip to stop the coughs trying to burst from her chest. Zen looked down at where their hands were still linked, the blood was mixed with a dark green… that… that couldn’t have been good. “I… I don’t want to die crying Zen,” she said simply, a sad smile on her lips. She didn’t want to die crying… he didn’t want her to die. She wasn’t going to! This was a scratch! A fucking wound he would kiss away… she couldn’t die. She couldn’t leave him. Not now. They were so close. They were going to get married next month- everyone was invited. An elaborate extravaganza where the entire cast of the play were going to perform at the wedding ceremony and she would come down the aisle and-…. Just…

Zen snapped himself out of his heartbroken reverie and looked back down at MC, her eyes closed and her lips sweetly upturned, her chest still and her shivering completely stopped-

He shook her. Hard.

“A-ah!” she rattled through her startled breaths, her eyes wide and searching his face. It took a moment before her expression softened, her hand trying its best to reach his face once more. Zen took it within his and kissed her blood-soaked palm, the taste of it on his lips almost as bitter as the bile that lodged itself at the back of his throat. Her eyes could barely focus and her breathing so slow he was tempted to press his lips against hers to breathe for her. He would have. He wanted to. Anything, he wanted to do anything he could to keep her there with him… even for a minute longer. The sirens- he could hear them now. MC gave another smile as she willed her lips to form words, even as she barely clung to consciousness.

“A-are you… are you my angel?” she asked, her voice small and hoarse and perfect, her eyes watering as she took in the sight of him. He kissed her palm over and over again, her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids- soft and quick presses of his mouth against her which made her sigh happily. Zen smoothed away the hair from her face, his touch like fire against her skin, like sitting by the fireplace on a winter’s night huddled together, like home. Zen steadied himself, a smile, she said she wanted to smile. “No Jagi, I’m no angel,” he grinned, biting his tongue to stop from breaking down and sobbing like his heart dictated. A look of confusion brushed upon her features as his fingers soothed them away gently, fingertips longingly dragging across the surface of her face to memorise every dip and curve. “But you, oh Jagiya… you are my angel.”

The smile she offered him in response could have lit up the entire sky. “…I am?” she asked, the tears in her eyes welling up and falling, cleaning the blood away from her face that the rain had failed to. He nodded and smiled, his cheeks burning. “Then I’ll have to… to keep watch over you…” “Mhmm. For as long as you can so… so stay and watch and…”

Her hand slipped from his grasp. Her eyes staring up at him, filled with tears. His face frozen into the smile he held for her.

“… MC?”

He shook her. Again. Harder. He pressed her wound. Harder. Please. Please.

He couldn’t move. Not one single muscle. Her body so heavy in his arms and yet he refused to release her. This was his fault. If he had only kept his mouth shut, didn’t taunt that woman- MC would have been alive. If he didn’t insist on staying back to revel in his glory they would have all left together with everyone else and she would have been alive. If he had realized what the woman was planning and MC didn’t push him out of the way to save him… she would have been alive. If he could have traded places with her, taken that bullet, taken that pain she endured- he would have in a second. It was meant for him. She was aiming for him. It should have been him, MC’s death was on him. She was dead… and he was the reason she died. Zen could hear the cries of the people around him. The screams of the bitch who stole her from him. The rain as it pounded against the ground.

This is not okay. This is not okay. This is not okay.

He couldn’t hear the sirens anymore.

Not when the paramedics looked him over, not when they tried to explain what was happening, not when they asked to take MC away from him. Nothing. Everything was static and muffled and not quite real. Until they managed to pry her away from his arms.

He heard the crack of the bones in his hand as it connected with the jaw of the paramedic. He heard the scream of the fans as the man was easily toppled by one hit. He heard the groans of pain the poor man made as he rolled around clutching his face. He heard the cry of his heart.

And then- silence.

  The RFA were at the hospital minutes after he had arrived; Jaehee saying something about his fans going crazy on his website. Jumin had wandered off to deal with the press that were starting to circle the building hoping to get a photo of the grief-stricken star, ordering his security detail to push the vultures back and insure safe passage for them all when they were ready to depart. Jaehee sat quietly and held his hand, patting the top of it like one would do to an elderly person to placate them. Yoosung had tried to be strong, he knew that, but he couldn’t keep up the act for very long- bursting out crying when V said he would take care of all the arrangements for MC. Saeyoung had merely placed a hand over his shoulder in a show of silent solidarity. He was grateful for their presence, he was. They helped fill the quiet in his head, the one voice in there reminding him repeatedly that this was it, he was all alone again. That he would return home and there wouldn’t be MC to remind him to eat more than a bottle (or two!) of beer and wouldn’t scream when he chased after her when he was all sweaty from a workout, begging for a hug. He couldn’t go back there, not yet.

“Is there… would anyone mind if I stayed… just for a few days-” “You can stay with me. For as long as you want.” Zen looked up at V, his dark glasses unable the hide the streaks of tears that fell from his eyes. “Thank you.”

  Her funeral was a star-studded affair, all of the friends she had made along the way from being his manager- all offering their condolences and final respects. The cast of the play, tearfully singing the song they had planned to sing to her under very different circumstances, bringing Zen to tears, bent over upon himself in the pews. He could feel V and Yoosung’s hands on his back and shoulders offering support as his cries echoed around the church.

Zen had tried his best to get up, to say the words he had tearfully written and rewritten over the last week, but he found neither his legs or heart were strong enough. Jumin took pity on him and accepted the crumpled piece of paper from his hand and with a small nod, stood in his place to say the words he wanted to say to his beloved MC.

I’m so sorry my love. I can’t say goodbye to you, not then, not now… probably not ever. His words didn’t sound right coming from Jumin’s low baritone but it would have to do; his own voice never wanted to be found if it couldn’t be used to talk to her, to murmur sweet nothings in her ear, to sing to her whenever she woke up late at night until she fell back to sleep. He never wanted to speak again.

  He didn’t even need to give his account, didn’t need to say a thing, with so many witnesses and some even recording the incident, there was too much evidence stacked up against the woman- he didn’t even want to know the name of the demon who stole MC away from him, wasn’t worth it- she was convicted and charged and he didn’t need to think about her ever again. He disregarded the way she called out to him, that she was glad that he was alive and now that MC was out of the way- she would continue writing to him. She couldn’t wait to hear back from him… like all the other times he had replied to her.

Zen wandered back to V’s house, dry eyed and disenchanted.

“Is it… is it all done then?” his old friend asked as he wiped his hands on the dish towel as Zen rummaged through the fridge. Finding the six pack he put there hidden behind packets of salad and some suspect looking takeout, Zen skulled one beer down and opened another, taking one long swig before turning to his friend and nodding once. Reaching back down, he picked up the pack of alcohol and made his way to the guest room he had stayed in since the night he lost her. It was larger than the bedroom they shared, both agreeing to stay in the same place and to save their money so they could afford to build the house of their dreams. They had it all planned out. A five-bedroom house next to a park so he could chase after their kids and the dogs (“Cats? Our children will only want dogs MC.”) … put some money aside for their education…some money for a great honeymoon… for their wedding … for the year they were going to spend not working and stay in each other’s arms… for the ring that he now wore around his neck -

He drank. He hated the room he stayed in. He hated everything. 

He found the box of fan letters he had taken with him help boost his spirits and looked at them with nothing but disgust. One of them… so many of them… could have been from that monster- and he wrote back. Hundreds upon hundreds of letters. The words he wasted on that bitch. He wanted to be sick. He threw them all into the metal bin out of the balcony and threw in a lit match, the paper slowly catching fire- spreading from one letter to the next.

He drank again.

  V watched him as he downed yet another can of beer, uncaring what it tasted like so long as it got the job done. It took more and more cans each time, but he was on a mission to get himself so blindly drunk that he didn’t have to feel anymore. It was his daily routine. Wake up have a shower, grab a beer and sit on the couch, just drinking the day away. That was it. Six months passed and all he did was drink. V had to fight with him, almost coming to blows a week after MC had passed, to get him to eat solid food. Although that was still rare and far between. He still hadn’t spoken.

There were times V was sure he wanted to, his jaw would clench or his mouth would open in such a way he could almost hear the words on his tongue- but then he would just shove a bottle or a can between his lips and drink himself into an oblivious stupor. It hurt him to see Zen this way, the once proud man now with long, scruffy hair and sallow skin and dark circles beneath his eyes that would easily pass for Halloween makeup. He stayed in pajamas or his sweat pants all day and rarely went out, the only reason he did was to get more alcohol. There was only so much that V could stand. It was like looking into a living mirror- but he would save Zen, even if he couldn’t save himself.

V sat down beside him, a glass of wine in one hand the bottle in the other, slouched and tired. Zen raised his beer in a half assed salutation and took a long swig of it, not even a third of his way through his drinking marathon. V figured it was okay if he didn’t talk, it would make it easier for him to say what he had to say uninterrupted. And he knew Zen was listening, he was always listening.

“I still miss her you know, Rika that is,” he began not missing the way Zen’s body had stiffened beside his. “I know that she hurt me, that she hurt… so many people. But I still miss who she was. Who we were at the start. Who I was at the start,” he filtered off as he took a sip of his wine, the tart flavours dancing across his palate. “I never dreamed that I would get over her. That one day I would be able to get up and not have a gaping hole inside my chest that I wanted to swallow me up, to get lost in that void and just… not be. Not feel. Not think. Just- quiet. But that quiet- it’s maddening Zen. I almost lost myself to it and when I see you- you’re so lost, you’re almost too far gone. Perhaps that’s my fault. Letting you do as you wanted and not reaching out sooner- but not anymore. I’m not letting you go any further. I’m not letting you stay in your silent torment anymore. Talk to me. Scream at me. Anything. Say something. Please.”

Another sip. Another swig. More silence. V closed his eyes as his fingers wound around the stem of the fine glass, just short of snapping it. “It was you. You, Yoosung, Jumin, Saeyoung and Jaehee… all of you… and yes, MC too… You all brought me back from the brink. It was probably MC who helped to wake me up and realise that I couldn’t just wallow anymore, that there were people who loved me, needed me- I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. So, for MC, for you, I am going to help you. I’m not going to give up, just like she didn’t- she ran to you and stayed with you until you were better. She’s not here now, but I am. For her, I will do the same. For her… please try.”

Another sip. Another swig. A sigh.

Long and heavy and condensed with such pain- such a familiar sound, a familiar feeling.

The beer fell from Zen’s shaking hands as he covered his face with his palms, his breathing slowly transforming into shuddering gasps until finally a wail of sorrow tore from his lungs, his body shaking from the force of his cries. V placed his wine down carefully beside the sofa and pulled at him, letting him lean against him for support; to know that he wasn’t alone in his agony, that he didn’t have to hide his pain from them- from himself.

The sound of his grief deafening.

He didn’t have to say a word, V understood everything he had to say. It was a start.

  He… he was not the same Zen. He never could be again. Each time he tried to look over a script or watch a movie- all he could think of was MC. What she would think of each production and if she would approve of him being in it and how each set would feel wrong without her there hanging around the sidelines just out of reach. How every break without her bounding over to him to give him a kiss would be torture. That each time he returned to his trailer or dressing room she wouldn’t have a seat beside his, that he would never get to revel in their after-show shenanigans… she wouldn’t be there to run lines with him… to take photos of him on opening night… to give him flowers.

It was all too much.

So, the choice was easy, practically already made for him. He would never act again.

The outcry from his fans was unbelievable. They wrote and posted their pleas online- that they didn’t want him to leave and missed him and still supported him, but he had made his choice. His following soon dwindled, not that he minded, it was easier to have a nice quiet life without a hoard of fans watching every step he took. They were too busy ignoring all the pictures he put up of MC and him or of just his lost love on his social media accounts, no one noticed when he packed up his apartment and moved out, no one cared. It was… good.

He was surprised when he showed up to town a he’d randomly chosen to start over in and no one recognized him, or if they did, they kept their mouths shut. Perfect.

He still lived in pain, the ache in his chest never really leaving him or healing over as it should have- but- perhaps in time, perhaps. Zen picked up his tools and set down his dreams, he would try to find peace. Working with hands made sense to him, something that was tangible and real, putting things back together to see them work- it was cathartic. Maybe one day he could pull himself apart and fix himself… until then… he had engines to fix. It would have to do- to be enough.

  Sitting alone on his simple couch in his humble apartment, Zen was relaxing after a long day at work. A beer in hand and the TV on, he sat and mindlessly flicked through the channels as he hummed and hawed over whether he should go to bed or not. A familiar chord played through his TV’s speakers and he paused instinctively to listen. No. God, please, no. Why.

“Do you hear the people sing… singing the songs of angry men…”

The emotions he had so carefully sorted through, tread through with bated breath and tipped toes, all exploded. Fell down from their spots off the shelves he had put them away on and just burst. Zen threw his beer, the glass smashing and the golden liquid running down his cream walls. He threw the remote control, smashing the screen of his TV, the cracks bleeding through. He was not okay. It was not enough. When would the pain stop? Did he want it to stop?          

Zen sat amongst the wreckage of his upturned lounge and sighed, wiping away at tears he didn’t realise he was crying. No. He guessed he didn’t want it to end- because no more pain meant no more MC in his life. He still wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

  It was a tap on the shoulder that unraveled him. Zen turned around from the bike he was fixing, squinting up to focus on the man before him, his face hard to see against the light of the mechanic shop. Zen wiped his hand and shook the hand he was offered not quite understanding why the man was there when his car seemed perfectly fine. “…I’m a big fan. I loved you in Les Mis… so strong… so vulnerable…” Ah. A fan. It had been years, it was alright, it hurt less, he could be gallant. “Uh thank you, that’s very kind- but you see I’m pretty busy right now-” “That’s fine Zen- I just wanted to be the first to tell you that I can’t wait to start work.”

He stopped in his tracks- what work? Was he working at the shop with him? The owner hadn’t mentioned hiring anyone new and the weaselly man in front of him looked like he barely knew how to drive let alone fix a car. “On the movie… your movie?”

His movie? He hadn’t accepted any scripts from his old agent. He didn’t even give his new number to anyone outside of the RFA- who was this guy again?

“My what?” he asked, turning back around hoping to clarify whatever misunderstanding they may have had. The man smiled again and handed him a thick script, Zen staring down at the title incredulously. Zen: The true story of how Romeo lost his Juliet.

He swallowed the bile that tried its best to climb up his throat and forced himself to open the pages, near the end, and prayed- he was never one to be religious but there he was praying- that he wouldn’t see what he feared he would.

Alas, he did.

“… I don’t want to die crying, Zenny.”

“… so, stay… stay a little bit longer...”

His fists were pummeling into the man’s face before he knew what he was doing. It felt good to hit him. It felt good to hurt him. He didn’t want to stop. How dare he? How dare they? Make a mockery of his life and her death- it was unforgivable. Who thought this was a good idea? What cruel, heartless bastard wanted to tell his story about losing the only thing that truly mattered in his life? He’d kill them. He’d make them all pay and-

His boss pulled him off the man before he managed to do anymore damage, the director laying on the ground bruised and battered and bloodied almost beyond recognition.

“I think… I think you best call a lawyer son, this won’t end pretty for you.”

Zen huffed as he wiped away the errant spatters of blood on his face with the back of his hand, his sweat smearing the red over his skin like war paint. “It never does Old Man, not for me.”

  He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he was desperate, he didn’t have enough money to stop it and he needed help. As much as this killed him to do it, he had to. The door swung open and there was a face he hadn’t thought of or seen for three years.

“Jumin, I need your help.”

The C&R director’s steel eyes widened at the open appeal; the lack of hostility and desperation the actor once exuded in his presence surprising him. Stepping aside, he let Zen inside his penthouse and asked him to start from the beginning. There was were no need for pleasantries or idle chit chat over how their lives had been- they were friends, no matter what they said, and they were there when the other needed them. “They have to be stopped. I don’t care how. They can’t be allowed to make a movie about her, not about that. Not how she died… not how I lost her. I won’t survive that Jumin. I can survive prison, I can stay there for the rest of my life- I don’t care what happens to me- but please help me stop them from making this film. From making any films, ever, about her.”

Jumin observed the man as he clenched the cup of tea in between his trembling hands, the liquid rippling inside the small cup. Sighing resolutely, Jumin leant forward and took the cup from Zen’s fingers and set it on the coffee table before sitting back in his chair and tenting his fingers. It was an easy choice, there wasn’t need to think about it. MC was his friend too. “Of course Zen. Of course I will help.”

Zen wasn’t ashamed to cry, even in front of Jumin. He had failed her before, but not this time. He could almost feel her smiling.

  Zen finally understood why people were so in awe of Jumin Han. In less than a week he had managed to block all creative rights to create the movie, protect Zen and MC so nothing could be made about them or based loosely around them ever again and have the charges of assault dismissed- and he did this all without breaking a sweat or missing a day of work. He hated to admit it but he was impressive… and he was kind. He would have to make it up to him somehow, he didn’t know how but he had to make it even between them.

“Thank you Jumin, she’d be… she’d be so happy.” “I know. But that wasn’t why I did it-” “Then why-” “Because you deserve to be happy too.” “I… thank you.”

For the first time in years, he didn’t have a drink, and when he fell asleep that night- he could see her smiling back at him, not a tear in sight.

  Zen rode further out, the small town quiet and asleep, his motorcycle and the hush of the night wind that caressed his skin the only noises that could be heard. He had taken to doing this, as regularly as he could and each time was special. He slowed down as he approached the field of stargazer lilies, a treasured find, they were her favourite flowers. Zen turned off the engine and kicked the stand up so he could simply sit there and breathe in their sweet scent, so similar to that of her skin, and looked up. The night sky was particularly beautiful there, the stars much brighter and more vivid than anywhere else in the city. It was worth taking the half hour trip to be there, it almost felt like she was there with him. She would have loved it there. It could have been the place they would have built their house, had their children and made a life together. In another time, another place, perhaps they could still.

Zen chuckled at his optimism, relieved that thoughts of possibility were finally running through his veins again (as crazy and implausible as they may have been). He would never be the same, that much he knew for certain, but he knew that he didn’t have to be in order to keep her within his heart. That she wouldn’t begrudge him the need to heal, the need to feel something other than pain. She would encourage it, just as she always encouraged him. He could feel the corners of his mouth twitch at the thought, she was just… the best. In life and after death. The best.

“Hey MC… sorry it’s been so long since I came down. The Old Man at the shop’s been sick so I’ve taken over for him… but you knew that, huh? You’re still up there looking out for me, right?” he smiled as a small tear rolled down the side of his eye. “It’s been forever without you, each day passing like the last… the pain- it’s still there. You not being here, it’ll always hurt. I accept that. But I can live with it, make it my own. Carry you with me and be okay- I can. I see that now… I just miss you so much-”

Don’t cry. Smile. It’s what she wanted.

“One day baby, we’ll be those stars up there, together, so just wait a little longer okay? Wait for me Jagi.”  

[naejigo]

The diakko fanfic I promised yall!

First part is up!

Please tell me in the comment on AO3 or here how it goes so far! This is my first anime fanfic! Been a kpop fanfic author for years, last year I just got into wlw anime ships deeper than I would so yeah lol. Tragedy and angst are my trademarks in the kpop ff world btw. You'll know why.

[restlessmaknae]

Raison d’être

As a part of my Birthday Prompt Party, Raison d’être is dedicated to the lovely @heony-k​ who has requested an angsty fluff story with prompt #34 “I’m cold. Come closer.” with Young K. I hope you like it, dear! <3

Words: 1173

Genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

Main Characters: Young K x reader

Warning: mentions of death

Raison d’être is a French expression, meaning “a reason to be, a reason for existing”.

Falling in love with Kang Younghyun was like watching the sunrise after a particularly devastating and terrifying storm; soothing, serene and heart-warming.

Although you couldn’t quite put a hand on it, there was something about him that gave you hope. Maybe it was his eternal smile that sent pleasant chills run down your spine and that could leave an impact on you like the searing fire on a winter night. Or maybe it was the way his eyes always shone with gratitude and love despite all those tiny broken pieces that were scattered around the glimpses in the endless sea of his charcoal orbs.

You couldn’t see his flaws in the beginning. Not even for the second or third time. Not until you finally blossomed for him like a cherry tree in the midst of a particularly chilly spring, did you actually find out that he had always had those broken parts within him and carried his own weight on his shoulders. The weight of his past, present and future. He couldn’t fight his fate and change it for the better. The fate that you knew nothing about in the beginning because he didn’t even want you to know.

He wasn’t only in love with you but he was also in love with the world, its everyday beauty and his own life as well. He could find the light in the darkest places, lead you out of the maze without hesitating what kind of path you should both take. Not to mention that he could turn every of your ugly scars into a beautiful reminder of the tragedies that made you stronger instead of suffering for any longer, dragging you to the hole of further misery.

He was the white in the black, the day in the night and the right in the wrong. He was every of your bad days and none of your worst fears. He was in everything around you because everything reminded you of him. Of his childish smile, sparkling eyes, deep laugh and honey-like voice. He was your favourite morning alarm and sweetest goodnight kiss. He was your favourite companion beside a cup of coffee and the steadiest mountain during hardships.

However, the widest smiles are the ones that cover the deepest scars, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when he told you about his own struggles.

Younghyun was dying. Getting closer and closer to death with each and every day. You could see glimpses of the symptoms but you would never assume that it would be a part of his cancer. The last phase, he said.

You only found out about his condition when he was rushed to the hospital after he had passed out during a university lecture. You were the first one to stand by his bedside, looking at his fragile figure. He was paler and sicker than ever. The colour of his skin was similar to the shade of the walls around him. The monitors beside him were cheeping worryingly slowly, making you feel like you were the one whose heart was beating faster than it should. Maybe it was beating faster, you couldn’t tell.

You were there when he first woke up and since there was no way for him to run away from you, he decided to tell you the whole story. His story.

Even though you tried your best to avoid crying in front of him, you couldn’t hide your puffy cheeks after you had let the pain rush through you in the bathroom.

You spent the following week in the hospital, in that tiny little room of his. You assisted him with his pillow and brought him flowers but you couldn’t really do anything to help him. That was what infuriated you the most. Younghyun was weak and fragile like a doll made out of glass but sometimes he still managed to make you forget why you were there in the first place. His body was like a small child’s and it hurt you to see him in such a state.

Yet, you couldn’t leave. You wanted to be there for him in the last days of his life, no matter how much it would tear you apart.

It was a usual night. You were sitting in a chair beside his bedside, talking about your day while he listened to you with a gentle yet weary smile and the last strands of hope in his beautiful charcoal orbs.

“And how are you?” You cleared your throat after telling a bit about your day. You never wanted to talk a lot about yourself, you were more interested in his condition.

He didn’t talk about his pain though. Never. Not even once. He always chattered about the movies he had watched and the books that the nurses had brought him. He didn’t want to show you his weak side, even though you loved it just as much as his strong and carefree side. You were in love with him, with every inch of his body and his soul. You loved him fully.

“I’m okay.” He tilted his head to get a better view of you, that smile that became his trademark one appearing on his face again.

It was a tired smile. Whenever you saw it, your heart broke a little and your stomach churned with worry. It was like a goodbye smile. The smile of someone who adored his precious life but who was waiting for the day when he can say goodbye to this world. No matter how much you hated that smile of his, it was still beautiful.

“Just you know…” He started as he coughed a little. “I’m cold.” He admitted quietly, his fingers toying with the strands of his hospital gown. The doctors warned you that the decrease in his body temperature was a sign of his body growing weaker. You were already prepared for the worst case scenarios. “Come closer.” He asked gently as his eyes searched for yours.

You didn’t need to think twice. You dragged your chair closer to his bed, held his cold hands in yours and let your head rest on his chest. You could almost imagine that you were at home, you snuggled up to him as you were about to watch a movie together. You could almost imagine that everything was fine and he wasn’t dying right beside you. You could almost gulp down the tears that were streaming down your face. Almost.

But almost was never enough.

You fell asleep while he was playing with your loose strands of hair and singing a lullaby in his raspy voice. When you woke up the next morning, he was giving you one last smile and he was gone. The monitors stopped cheeping as he stopped breathing.

He was always there when you needed him and not until you lost him, did you actually realise that he was the reason you lived.

He was your raison d’être just as he had always told you that you were his reason to get through another day.