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danses-with-dogmeat · 9 months

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Day 4 -- Rotface

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 4 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Prostitution with Rotface x F!Six

GOODNESS I've waited so long to post something with Rotface 😩 He was like Gob 2.0 for me when I played New Vegas for the first time, just like... INSTANT love for him, ugh ❤️

This one I thought was pretty darn sweet, and a little glimpse into his life on that street corner where Six meets him.

I hope you like it!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Prostitution, drinking (alcohol lol), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, pining, hopes and dreams.

Words: 4.5k

Rotface lounged against his dusty curb like it was an elegant chaise, his body sinking lower and lower down throughout the long, hot day. The coolness of the air was refreshing as the sun bowed its head over the sand in the distance. Patrons, Freeside goers, and tourists alike had all hidden away in their homes or gone off to gamble and sin for the remainder of the night.

But the ghoul had waited in silence, one ruined finger brushing over the neck of some cheap bottle of liquor he’d managed to get his hands on. Some whiskey, or bourbon maybe. Perhaps even rum gone a little bit… off. He didn’t know or care much, his stomach and tongue were impartial, but his head… Oh, his head needed it if he was to make it through another interaction with his favorite patron to date.

And, like he'd called her over with nothing but the mere thought, over she came. It was unmistakable, the telltale click of her shoes on the pavement, the pacing of her steps, unhurried, but anything but relaxed. Even before Six rounded the corner, Rotface could catch her scent wafting on the light breeze: cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and gunpowder. Always a hint of it, no matter what she wished to mask it with.

It embarrassed him to even think it, but her scent was one he wished he could wrap himself in, like some strange desert creature burying itself in the sand for shelter from the elements, he wanted it to envelop him.

Need to get over this shit. Hopefully the drink’ll help.

“Hey, you. Fancy meeting ya ‘round these parts.” Six’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up at her, gazing wide-eyed, as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Damn, how it always feels that way.

Like a bullet to the chest from some Freeside thug, her visage hit him hard.

As per usual, Six was only partially clothed, in some bra-type, cropped shirt thing that only complimented the natural shapely curve of her body, her stomach was left bare, showcasing the smoothness of her skin, making it clear to him again why he’d spent so many hours daydreaming about laying his head upon her for a nap, her plush lap or stomach immeasurably preferable to the curb he usually called his pillow. Her skirt left even less to the imagination, especially from his angle looking up from the floor. Though, no matter what the angle was, the garment was made up of hardly any fabric at all, showcasing Six’s thighs and hips alike, both of which were frequent attendees in his daydreams as well.

Rotface almost openly sighed as he saw her. Though it was nearly a nightly ritual these days, she still managed to draw his street-sharp mind into a tight bundle of fanciful nonsense.

“Nice to see ya, Six.” Rotface managed to rasp out finally, pulling his gaze reluctantly from where it was tied to her form, her face, those eyes.

Suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m actually lookin’ or not. Always see her anyhow. Remember her face better than I do my own these days.

And that ain’t no bad thing.

“Whatcha got there? Something to share, I hope.”

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Already had my fill, rest is for you, dolly.”

“O-ho, what a gentleman you are.” Her smile shot straight into him, like a searing beam of light, right through his chest as she reached down for the bottle in his hand. No flinching away, no mildly disgusted look, no light, hesitant fingers as she brushed her hand with his in the transfer of the bottle from his possession to hers.

“Wish I could take a seat beside you, but… Yeah, gotta stay visible.” She winked at him as she said it, but tipped the bottle back for a long swig a moment later, without even bothering to glance at the label.

Didn’t seem to matter to her either.

“It is still your corner though.” Six wiped delicately at her lipstick-framed mouth as she lowered the bottle down. “No matter who stands at it, they still know it as yours. So, if I’m ever intruding–”

“No way, doll.” He said, almost too quickly. “What’s yours is mine.”

Rotface gestured to the bottle then, a soft expression adorning his face as he looked up at her.

God, it must be obvious. Way I ogle her, night in and out. Maybe the drink wasn’t the best thought I’ve had… me a lil tipsy, her on her way… Could say something I regret.

And she could actually hear it now. Not like my daydreams.

“You know, this street corner ain’t the only thing we got in common, I think.”

Six raised a brow at him questioningly, but nodded a moment later with an odd sort of look upon her face. Another swig of the bottle, and then:

“Hm. You’re right. Must be… Our fashion sense?”

His laugh was much too raucous for the little quip she made, but dammit, the ghoul couldn’t help himself.

Here I am, trying for once to be genuine, and then…

Oh, but how could he ever be mad?

“Well, you do know how much I enjoy lounging on my curb here in the nude. Or in my leather panties. Heh.”

Six giggled herself this time, and he felt proud to have inspired such a lovely refrain.

“Nah, but, in all seriousness, I think… Well, we’re both one of the real people out here, you know? The ones out here trying to survive, yeah, but you’re not an asshole.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He could’ve slapped himself for ending that sentence prematurely… and with no obvious tracks for it to go down in the highway of his drink-addled mind.

Trying to speak from your heart is like engaging in an interview while under fire. Hearing the questions, formulating answers, wording them, all while remaining breathless and panicked. Scared for your life, even.

“No, no... sorry, buzz is gettin’ to me a bit. But you’re just– hell, maybe we don’t even have it in common, I don’t know, but you’re one hell of a person, is what I was getting at. In some fuck-all roundabout way." He rubbed the bridge of his would-be nose, grinding his teeth as his confession only seemed to worsen.

"Just... Six, you doing all that shit for the NCR, for Freeside, The Wrangler, and all those ungrateful, privileged asshats in the strip, and look at you, still out here working street corners for scraps. You should have a fucking penthouse by now, you know? Be one of them fancy ladies with the jewelry and the colorful skirts and dresses. ‘S what you deserve, Six, that’s all.”

“Glad you feel that way.” Finally relenting to the call of it, Six plopped down beside him, and Rotface felt his heart stutter as her hand brushed his bicep, giving him an affectionate little squeeze as she turned to him. “Nobody else seems to care, so you know… I suppose I’ll just keep... doing it, since I can’t sit by like the rest of those, ahem, asshats, as you put it so nicely.”

He broke into a laugh alongside her, feeding off the warmth of her smile and wishing like hell he could see it a thousand more times in his life.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I saw everything that’s going on around here and… didn’t help.”

Six handed him back the bottle, nearly empty as it was, but with one last, decent gulp left. With a slow hand, careful not to dislodge the one she still had placed upon his arm, he reached out for it.

“And… I guess I’ll just keep doing this,” Six gestured down to her scant outfit with unenthused fingers, “Until I can afford not to. However long that takes.”

A pessimistic scoff finished her sentence for her, and Rotface felt his hand gripping the neck of the alcohol bottle so hard it might shatter. And he wouldn’t blame it. If it were possible for him to do the same in this moment, he just might've.

Even as Rotface's grip loosened on the glass, his jaw stayed tightly clenched. He… had no idea she was that desperate. Some part of him assumed this was-- well, a job, yes-- but maybe she’d enjoyed it? Six always seemed so free, so good-humored, even in the worst of times, even when she showed up on their street corner with bags under her eyes, with bruises and scrapes he wouldn’t let himself imagine the origin of; she still was happy to see him, still made fun and light of their horrid, ruined world right alongside him… Maybe that’s what they really had in common.

Now that he knew though, now that her dejected voice, her listless mannerisms, the dullness in her eyes confirmed that she hated doing this shit more than he could’ve imagined, more than he hated baking in the sun waiting for a more successful, luckier man’s pocket change to fall into his roughened hands day-in and day-out for ten or so odd years, well... He couldn't just stand by anymore. Not like he has for so damn long. With all she's done in that time, even after being fucking shot? It made Rotface feel like a pretty awful person.

To think too, after all that, all his years of this shit, and how little he's collected in his time on the street corner...

Another shitty thing we have in common, I guess. If the world decides not to change, we’ll both be doing this forever.

“Well…” Rotface started a thought out loud, his fingers already twiddling nervously at his imagined proposal. “You know, I-I could start paying you.”

He felt her body tense, felt her eyes on him, but he couldn’t dare meet her gaze.

“J-just for this, you know.” He added quickly, “The pleasure of your company here on the corner. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t improve my evenings, having you here with me. But, since I’m taking up your time and all…”

“I could never accept money from you, R.”

He smiled at that, her tender voice, her sweet nickname for him.

“You want to know something?" She continued, her fingers twiddling distractedly over the skin of his arm. "I could stand on any street corner in Freeside. In fact, between you and me, this one really isn’t the best for business, but… Well, I enjoy the pleasure of your company too. And I couldn’t dream of asking you to pay for it.”

Another comforting squeeze radiated warmth from her grip over him, and Rotface finally gained the courage to set his eyes upon her face.

“No..." A soft, slight smile touched her vibrant lips as she looked right back at him, "We’re in this together, old friend.”

“If you say so." Rotface's own rough hand, pausing only briefly on its brave journey, now laid overtop hers, giving Six a comforting little embrace of his own. "But... If that’s the case, then… Say I did pay you for a night. A night we don't spend on this street corner, lovely as it is. A-and not anything, ah, promiscuous," He added quickly, "Just… you know. A night. Do dinner or something.”

“Dinner?” Her brow quirked up on her forehead and her eyes narrowed with mischief.

She must be onto me. No doubt she is…

But she keeps playing along. So, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Well, we just shared a nice drink, some good conversation… You wanna just skip dinner?”

He was wide-eyed at what she suggested, what he thought she might be suggesting.

Could it be?

Nah... Too good to be true, that's what that is. Shit doesn't work out for me that way, not Rotface the poor street-corner ghoul. Not with Six. No way.

And yet, in that moment, her hand turned quickly, taking his in her grasp, and before he could fathom any single bit of it, she hauled him up and the pair set off quickly towards The Wrangler. He was comically giddy the whole way there, all teeth-baring grins and school-child giggles as she tugged him along behind her.

He didn't understand, but even more so, Rotface couldn't bare to question it.

Sure, the pair got some inquisitive looks on the way and in the bar, both of them well-known in this part of town, after all. The piss-poor ghoul beggar and the Wrangler prostitute who was a sucker for doing the right thing, the kind thing, getting a room together?

The looks all confirmed what he tried not to let himself believe.

Even if it is pity she has for me… who am I to complain? To judge her?

Nah, he couldn’t think one wrong thing about the gal beside him, in front of him now in the dim room, leaving even less to the imagination, as she let her skirt flit down to the carpeted motel room floor.

Six stepped out of the garment like she was trying to seduce him. As if she hadn’t already, from the moment he laid eyes on her.

“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen." His rough voice sounded in the dim of the room as his eyes stayed locked to her mesmerizing form, "All my years, dolly, and it’s not even a competition.”

Rotface couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not for anything, as she approached where he sat on the creaky, ages-old box spring. The bed dipped from her movements as she crawled up and between his legs, running her hands down over the smooth fabric of his worn shirt until they reached the bottom hem.

His own hands, rough as they were, gently stopped her movement.

“Not sure you wanna do that, doll. Might just ruin the moment.”

Six shook her head, her brows drawn together in sympathy as one soft hand brushed over the side of his face. Her touch was so tender, her expression so kind, yet… so wanting. It made his heart throb and race all at once.

“It won’t.” Her voice was the firmest he’d heard it. “R… I want this bad as you do. Honest.”

He blinked, and in the smallest split of seconds, Six's lips were against his. Like an old reel of film, his mind raced and churned behind the scenes, the chaos behind the beautiful picture up on the screen.

She was loud as a symphony, vibrant as a painting, with her passions. A pessimistic part of him whispered that it was practice, it was work, but a louder part shouted, ‘this is happening!’

Because that’s what mattered.

Six was here, with him. She said she wanted this, she followed it up with actions that had him in a frenzy, that had him questioning his sanity, and the life expectancy of ghouls once they go feral.

His mind scrambled like this, the heat coursing through him, the kiss felt like it was sending him into a metamorphosis.

Rotface wanted so badly to think, to respond, to ask a million questions and make a million remarks about his many faults to her. As much as he wanted this– more than anything he could remember pleading for in his life, and just… well, look at him, he had plenty he could've wished for in place of this, and yet, it was true. More than anything, he wanted this with her. And he was as afraid of it as he was enthused by it.

None of that mattered though. Nothing did, but Six.

Rotface ran his hands over her bare skin, hungry to feel every inch of her, to soothe every hint of pain, every cause of stress in her life, his lips pressed against hers, caressing her softness, like the sun hugs the mountaintops and bathes them in orange, pink and violet.

It only became more explosive, as he felt himself sink back into the mattress, as she laid her body over his, and he finally allowed her fingers to haul his raggedy t-shirt off over his head. Rotface gazed up at her as they separated, so she could remove the shirt from him fully, feeling like he was trapped in one of his daydreams, only… this was so much sweeter.

Even in the depths of his imagination, the ghoul never could have seen her like this. Looking at him this way. It was… utterly unimaginable, the affection he saw there. The attraction.

Perhaps her eyesight is just poor, after the incident in the graveyard at point blank range.

The sound of a zipper drew his eyes and thoughts downwards as she began to remove his battered jeans, pulling them off over his hips and taking his boxers with them in one movement.

Rotface grunted as the hem of his pants caught on his erection, already straining up in the air from her words, the sight of her, her attentions.

Just… Six.

The liquor had worn off by now, and he could feel himself shaking slightly. Maybe from nerves, or anticipation, though… probably both. If Six noticed though, she didn’t say a word about it.

“Hmm.” When his eyes snapped back up to her, watching her take in the sight of his gnarled flesh, his bony body, he expected any number of horrid, barely-held back reactions.

But she just… Smiled. With tears in her eyes, her gaze met his.

“I don’t know why you ghouls are so cruel to yourselves. You in particular.” She said as she began to crawl up his body, a hand on either side of him, hovering, until she could lay over him. Her breasts prodded his chest as she settled overtop of him, her stomach cushioning his sensitive erection lovingly between their bodies. “You’re no different than any other man.”

“Gee, thanks.” He said with a breathless attempt at a laugh.

“No,” Six giggled, letting her head hang for a moment, her hair curtaining her face so charmingly as her eyes crinkled. “I just mean… You’ve got scars, sure, but… we all do.”

One hand grasped with his, and Six pressed his fingers to the concealed divots in her forehead. He swallowed hard, as he felt the depth of them.

How lucky I am to be here… With her.

“It doesn’t make you worth any less. No matter what anyone says.” Six pulled his hand to her mouth then, one finger drawing a line over a particularly rigid scar on his wrist before her lips followed suit softly.

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

Rotface had to blink to keep the unwelcome mist at bay from seeping into his eyes.

What did I do to deserve her? This?

Just last night we were still only friends, something like this was a distant, unachievable dream.

Now, he never wanted it to end.

“Well, doll, you are the authority on all that’s beautiful.”

“Sweet ghoul.” Six's fingers ran over his bald head in an affectionate caress, and then his lips were back on her. Rotface initiated this time, pushing into her and wrapping his arms tightly around her body until he could flip them on the bed, positioning himself on top.

His cock twitched as her hips bucked up into him, the swell of her pelvic bone grinding against the underside of his cockhead until he felt himself drooling pre-cum out onto her skin.

Damn, but she knows what she’s doing.

“Fuck, alright–” Rotface pulled back from her lips, separating their bodies enough to alleviate the pressure on his erection. “I’ve gotta taste you, doll. That alright?”

Enthusiastically, and with a bit of surprise written on her face, Six nodded, and he felt that giddiness encapsulate him again. The older ghoul felt like a boy on pre-war Christmas, pulling her legs undone like a bow until her thighs were draped over his rough shoulders. His sense of smell and taste both weren’t what they used to be, but even so, his mouth watered at the sight of her folds; dark and glistening, maybe just with his pre-cum where he'd rubbed on her briefly, but he’d like to think some of it was her own excitement as well.

As Rotface took his first languid lick, right through the middle of her lower lips and up to drag over her clit, it was confirmed. She wasn’t just glistening a bit, Six was wet.

For me? Damn, maybe she really is telling the truth about her feelings…

Grinning, and with a hint of an uncharacteristically smug expression upon his ruined face, Rotface set to work on her.

One hand laid over Six's lower stomach, and his thumb pressed to that sensitive button that made her shudder in slow, teasing circles as he delighted in the sweetness within her folds. He may have been shy about confessing his wants to her, his own feelings, but his tongue showed no such coyness as it explored her so thoroughly.

Once that first taste hit his welcoming tastebuds, Rotface began lapping at her feverishly, like a starving wasteland dog, until he could hear her breathy moans escaping audibly from above. Chancing a glance, the ghoul hauled his eyes open to take in her expression, and felt himself give an involuntary buck of his hips against the rough-hewn sheet upon the mattress below him at the sight that welcomed him.

I made her look like that.

He marveled silently, feasting with his eyes as much as he was with his wanton mouth as he poured his attentions out onto her. Six's brows were drawn together from his efforts, her lips half-parted, her lipstick smeared messily against one cheek, her hair like a woven crown, all in tangles around her head. No detail of hers failed to captivate him, even as Rotface continued his hungry mouthing, his thumb’s circling over her clit, growing firmer and faster, just as his hips moved more frantically over the mattress, grinding his cock into the sheets like he was already inside her.

Six’s eyelashes fluttered, as she took in his humble visage in turn, and his heart soared to see the way she smiled.

“Didn’t know you had this in you, R.” She spoke, breathless, her voice damn near rough as his own.

He only growled in response, tearing his eyes from her face to look down upon his labors. Her clit was standing tall against his movement over it, and her lips were becoming darker, more swollen, more slippery. His tongue glided easily around her folds, navigating them as masterfully as he did the streets of Freeside, and pressed periodically up to that sensitive button, giving it teasing licks and kisses that left her writhing beneath the pressure of his arms.

“Think I’m wet enough for you now, R.”

Rotface felt a pat upon his head as her voice reached down to where he was buried between her legs, but he didn’t budge. A groan acted as his rebuttal as his attentions hastened. His actions were better than explanatory words anyway.

“Fuck, okay.” Six giggled out, and her sheer arousal was plain in the way the words left her. A moan trailed shortly after, as Rotface set his rough lips against her clit, and sucked like honey would pour from the spot. And well, it really sort of would, wouldn’t it?

Though, there was one difference.

Six was much sweeter.

The ghoul’s eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on her thigh and stomach tightened, he felt his cock give a painful throb from where he was neglecting it, and his hips picked up their pace into the mattress.

In that moment, he was completely surrounded by her.

Her moans and breaths were all that entered his ears, her smooth skin all he felt, her musky, succulent juices all he could taste, the colors of her passion, all he could see behind his closed eyelids. In that moment, she was his whole world.

And what a glorious world it is.

Six was close now, so close he could feel the way her clit pulsed against his tongue. He smiled into her at the feeling, lowering one hand between her thighs as his lips stayed anchored to her sensitive, swollen nub. Rough, calloused fingers dragged through her plentiful wetness, before two of them tested her entrance, finding it pliant and wanting for him. For this.

The digits plunged inside without any additional warning, instantly curling against her hot, tender walls and making her release a shout of pleasure that had his throbbing member ready to burst at the seams.

A few well-placed rubs of his textured fingers against her clenching walls, and one last drag of his tongue over her swollen pleasure point, and Six was crying out her nickname for him into the still, stuffy air of the motel room. Rotface didn’t cease though, his fingers pulsed inside her gently, coaxing her orgasm to last as long as possible, helping her through it as he drank in her spilling essence with his whole mouth.

Rotface found himself growing almost as loud as she was, with his sloppy groans and the great buildup of pressure in his aching, straining cock, until that too burst out without much warning. The ghoul spurted his seed into the sheets below, humping into the mattress needily as he continued to nurse on her clit, even as Six began to buck away from him in her oversensitivity.

Finally, with a light push of her hand over his forehead, Rotface tore himself from her. His chin and hollow nose were dripping with her as he caught his breath, he could feel his thighs shaking from the force of his own release, which was still sending small aftershocks through his fatigued body as his cock leaked the last of what it had to offer onto the bed between Six’s legs. And Six... at that moment, she–

“R?” A loud snap sounded in his ears, and suddenly, tragically, Rotface was seated back on his curb, his mind swimming and his body aching as his thoughts raced circles around his mind. “Honey, are you okay? You were tryin’ to say something.”

“I– I was?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me what else we had in common? Besides fashion sense and this curb, and then you just… went all radio silence on me. You feelin’ alright?”

Six’s hand pressed down to his forehead, and her touch sent a shock through him.

Fuck… Another goddamn daydream. And… so real.

Stupid fucking drink.

He glared at the bottle in Six’s hand as she sat down next to him.

“You do feel a little warm. You wanna just take it easy tonight? I don’t have to take clients, maybe we could… I don’t know.” She laughed as she trailed off, and Rotface felt his heart renew its frantic pounding once again.

With one sentence, one confession, one request, I could maybe, maybe, make that dream of mine a reality.

Rotface took a breath as he felt her eyes on him, trying not to pay her gaze too much mind, as he began his confession.

For real, this time.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas companions #fallout npc #fallout new vegas npcs #fallout nv #fonv #new vegas #rotface #rotface fonv #fallout rotface #courier six #rotface x six #dwd.nsfw #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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sunflowersoldat · 1 year

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Pt. 1 Sunshine

Task Force 141 x Fem!Reader(s)

Series summary: Imagine living in the modern world, your nightmares are only figments of folklore. Werewolves & Vampires don’t exist. Neither do flesh eating Ghouls, Elves or Spirits, Magic? Yeah that's impossible, a distant what-if…

Only it’s not.

This is a mature fantasy series with 18+ themes, along with horror aspects, violence, light gore, & smut. We follow two friends(two readers) Sunshine and Terror in their fight to survive in this new reality.

Chapter Warnings: mild language, semi-apocalyptic world setting.

Word Count: 1030

A/N: This is a dual reader fic, we will have two readers. I am so excited for this series, and have so many plans! I hope ya'll enjoy, feedback is always appreciated, even if its just you telling me your favorite part! 💕

Sunshine–

The late afternoon sun is warm on your face and arms as you pick another dandelion bloom from the ground, running its soft yellow petals between your fingers. You pluck them from the flower head, humming as they float into the wind.

Tilting your head to the side, Terror lays on the grass beside you, her arms folded behind her head, eyes blissfully closed as she soaks up the sun’s rays. Her breathing is slow and even, in moments like this she reminds you of all the summers you had spent together when you were younger. She is carefree like this, a mere shadow of her former self; her once pristine skin now marred with scars and sun kissed from the hours upon hours in the sun.

You smile softly, before tossing the naked stem onto the ground at your feet, the soft swish of grass being stepped on pulls your attention from your best friend, your eyes traveling the length of Flynn as he leisurely makes his way toward you. A knowing smirk lifting his lips; Terror and you can almost always be found near each other, outside of the compound, but never too far off.

As he nears, he shifts his bow onto his back, the string stretching across his strong chest, rumpling the dusty blue shirt he wears. His auburn hair half pulled back into a low bun, the tips of his pointed ears peaking between the bright strands, blowing into his face.

He is stunning, for all you know he could have been Elven royalty before the world fell into bloody chaos, those strong cheekbones, and a beautiful dusting of freckles paint his nose and cheeks, dissipating outwards. He carries himself with an air of respect, but he is always one to humble himself to help anyone in need.

You smile softly, he seems too sweet for this bloodthirsty world, most don’t take him seriously, but he’s as lethal as a lion. Most think the same about you, because you're ‘softer’ compared to Terror. You couldn’t remember the last time you were soft, the brutality of this newer world changed everyone, and honestly this was the only world you could remember, much of your memories prior to the coalescence are mostly smoke and vapor, each time you reach for one it evaporates.

The past didn't really matter much anyhow, all that really mattered now was surviving, making the most out of the shitty situation that was this new life. The world now is a mixture of the old apocalypse movies your father used to watch and the dark folklore books you read back in school; it was like another universe collided with ours, and merged both worlds into one.

A change in the genetic code of the universe.

When the coalescence consumed both worlds, there were those who remained as human, and those who morphed into something else entirely, like something hidden deep within their genetic code and from their ancestry came to the forefront. Their bodies and minds went through changes, some turned into elves, others ravaging beasts who craved violence and destruction during full moons, or even killers whose diet depended on the consumption of blood.

Cities were mostly uninhabited, nature taking its course to reclaim what was once its own, well at least uninhabited by humans or elves. Those who had survived the coalescence and were not immediately eaten, drained, or used as whores to both bloodlust and carnage, lived in camps scattered far from large cities. Some smaller towns like the one you came from transformed into sanctuaries and strongholds. The big cities, like Boston, where Terror had lived… Well, they weren't as fortunate, the beasts took hold in those places like wildfire.

Everything we thought we knew about these mythical creatures wasn't quite right. They definitely preferred to roam at night, when they were less likely to be seen; like most criminals– Werewolves were the biggest problem, followed by vampires. The werewolves were actually more like mobsters, aside from turning into giant flea ridden beasts. They really seemed to enjoy the finer things in life, but they absolutely ruled with iron fists, quick to punish with little to no mercy.

Your thoughts wandered to your family, still leading a stronghold in the south. You hoped they were still doing alright, the attacks usually came at night, or at least became more frequent when there were only stars to light the eerie skies–

“Sun?” Flynn’s voice broke into your mind, scattering your thoughts.

You blinked, eyes meeting Flynn’s calm green gaze, his head tilted to the side, in curious wonder, “Where’d ya go?”

Shaking your head lightly you sighed, pulling your knees closer to your chest, resting your arms against them, you hang your head, “Back in time… Flynn, do you wish you could go back? Before our worlds collided?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t remember much of my world before that…”

You lift your head, watching as the sun lowers, casting an orange and red glow over the horizon, the shadows from the woods around you growing, reaching for the three of you and for the walls of the camp; the impending threat looming.

You draw your brows together, “I only remember bits and pieces, like–”

Terror’s hand is shoved against your lips, cutting off your voice, her leather gloves warmer then they should be. She is crouched defensively in front of you, arm stretched back covering your lips, her other hand wields a huge hunting knife. Eyes trained on the woods to our right, as still as a statue, your body freezes with hers, next to you, Flynn tenses, slowly reaching for his bow, drawing it back.

Your ears tingle under your ball cap, they’ve become more sensitive recently, you know something is coming, but as the dark figures emerge from the treeline your heart nearly stops, their eyes shining in the setting sun.

Werewolves.

@daiseychaindisaster @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @betareader7 @silently-killing-you @ojouhama

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aboveaveragefalloutfan · 3 months

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Just a neat lil fallout Story

It was like a clap of thunder on a quiet night, as he heard steps not his own echo behind him. Quickly he turned, now having his revolver aimed, and bat held tightly. He checked the corners of the aisle he was in, before moving onto the next. While he was moving through this isle he spotted a few spare bottle caps, but he didn’t know if he was alone or not and thus had no time to loot the place.

He entered the next aisle, where his face was by a baton. His helmet took most of the impact, but he still stumbled back which allowed the athletic Raider to tackle him. The two fell to the floor, where he felt the hands clasp around his throat. He struggled, reaching for anything as his gun was knocked out of his hand. His eyes peered right, and he reached for the revolver. He raised it swiftly and..

BANG!

The Raider went limp and fell atop of him. He gasped for air, a few hoarse coughs escaping his mouth as he pushed the body off of him, towards the side. He sat up, taking a few deep breaths as he spun the cylinder of his revolver out, checking how much ammo he had left in the gun.

“3 bullets.. goddamnit..” He laid back on the floor for a moment, taking another few deep breaths as he thought about his next course of actions. He had to return to Seattle no matter what for supplies and ammo anyhow, but last time he was there he got into a scuffle with a few of the Harrower mercenaries.

He sat up, turning to the side as he grabbed a pouch of caps from the raider. He stood up fully now and entered the previous aisle, grabbing the few caps from earlier. He put them in the pouch and soon stood at the exit of the store, opening the Nuka Cola and removing his mask. He took a few drinks and eventually finished it, before attaching his mask back to his helmet and leaving the store.

He placed his bat around his other shoulder, and kept the bottle in his hand. Some vendor back in Seattle paid some decent caps for empty bottles, mostly due to the fact it was bar, and they often served their drinks in said bottles.

He took a look around, seeing the ruins of former homes and stores surrounding him. He turned and saw the Mediator’s tower off in the distance. Damn police force wannabes had to choose the flashiest building to be their headquarters, but he couldn’t blame them all too much.. he would’ve done the same after-all.

It was rather quiet this part of Seattle, left abandoned by both Raiders and Settlers. Most saw no need to inhabit it, and the Mediators didn’t often go this far out, choosing to protect their area of Seattle, and only those who isolated themselves or had committed various crimes lived out here.

He looked out and saw a boat past by, and this visual led him to travel deeper into the ruins as to avoid detection by the corsairs. Dirty bastards almost got him last time he encountered them. A hunting rifle is good, but it isn’t that good against a small army of boats and raiders.

As he walked through the ruins, he stopped in his tracks as he saw a feral ghoul off in the distance, turned away from him, and staring off at something in the distance. Carefully and quietly, he placed his bottle on the ground and holstered his revolver. He soon after grabbed the barbed bat off his shoulder. He stepped as quietly as he could, and once he was right behind the ghoul he turned his body and swung

The small encounter was almost entirely silent, the only noises escaping being that of the bat hitting the soft and decaying flesh, and the last breaths of life escaping the pitiful ghoul. He hung the bat back onto his shoulder, and retraced his steps and grabbed the bottle and continued his walk.

His walk continued until night came, and deeming it safer to hunker down for the nigh than walk through town at dark, he entered an old homestead and set himself up in the kitchen. He took his rifle and bat off his shoulders and set them up against the fridge, which he then looked inside. He would’ve be damned, as he found a whole lot of nothing, which would be expected. He checked the cupboards, and this time was surprised to find a box of Blamco Mac and Cheese.

He took off his mask and helmet, and set it on the counter, where he would use one of the old pots to boil some purified water. Not any of that fancy metal container purified water, but instead purified water housed in a Nuka Cola bottle from well, water purifiers. He poured the water and checked the stove, the sound of gas hissing being heard, followed by a spark which started a flame.

Luck was on his side this half of the day it seemed, as usually power from Seattle didn’t go this far down, but he wasn’t complaining. A half hour or so passed and eventually his box of Mac and Cheese was done. Considering one does not often carry around bowls, or silverware for that matter, he opted to use the old cutlery there, and eat from the small pot.

Soon it came time for him to finally sleep, and he opted to sleep in the kitchen. Sure the bed would’ve been the more comfier choice, but he wanted to leave as soon as the sun rose. He pushed two of the dining room chairs against the front and back door, and pushed his own chair against the wall, where he would lean against it and slowly drift off.

Soon day broke, and he arose from the chair, a yawn escaping his lips as he grabbed his gas mask and helmet. He placed it back onto his head and latched his rifle and bat back over his shoulders. He would’ve grabbed the now two Nuka Cola bottles, and upholstered his revolver. He removed the chair and left the house, continuing on his way.

Hours passed by the time he reached the gates of Seattle and after giving a small nod to the guard, the metallic machine doors opened to the side, and inside he walked

#fallout oc #fallout #fallout story #soon trauma

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souridealist · 10 months

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FFXIVwrite fic: day 12, 'dowdy'

Rielle, featuring Sidurgu, various anonymous Ishgardian residents, and the advent of neo-Ishgardian fashion. Canon-typical amounts of Rielle wanting to bang Sidurgu's brains out, such as they are. "Elilona" is the (my) WoL.

It’s a weak and wavery spring in Coerthas when the new shop opens in the Firmament.

Rielle hears about it before she sees it, because everything that happens in Ishgard gets talked about at the Forgotten Knight, so all you need to do is know how to listen. For years of her life Rielle had nothing to do but listen, and Tataru helped her learn to do it on purpose. What to do with what she hears is another question, but she listens.

It catches her attention because someone says, “That Fortemps boy’s project, was it? Seems like his taste.”

“More poor Lord Greystone’s, really,” someone else says.

“Neither of them, it’s the Haillenarte youngest — and have some respect for the dead, you ghoul.”

“Who’s disrespectful? The man had his tastes, it’s just facts, he’s allowed,” and, overlapping, someone else saying, “Oh, is that why there’s all those tarts coming in and out of the Manufactory suddenly? — ouch!”

“It’s practical. You can’t fight with a skirt in the way, even with those magitek gun contraptions.”

“Oh, and it’s harder to fight with your tits covered, is it?”

“It’s hardly the Seventh Umbral Era anymore, you prude. What are the priests going to do, frown at us?”

“Wouldn’t have thought it of Lord Francel, priests or not. He never seemed the type, nor Lord Stephaniven either.”

“It’s not as if he’s personally overseeing every weaver and shoemaker in the district, is it? It’s just getting shops there that’s his project. People can sell what they like.”

“It still matters for him that the shops work, though. You know, sell things and all. So Lord Stephaniven’s probably supporting him.”

“Aye, and getting a view into the bargain — quit kicking me, you arse —”

It’s at this point that Sidurgu asks, “What’s so funny, anyhow?”

Rielle sighs. “You don’t listen to anything, do you, Sid?”

But it’s got her curious now, so the next time she’s out on her own — a thing that she can do, these days, with nothing to worry about but Sidurgu fussing, and let him fuss anyway — the next time she’s out on her own, she makes her way to the Firmament to see this scandalous shop for herself.

It’s not as if her gossip was especially specific, but she’s got nowhere to be, and it doesn’t take her that long to find the right pale building. She was expecting a weaver’s mark, but there’s the sign of the leatherworkers’ guild foremost, and an armorer’s mark next to the weaver’s. The windows are open to the warming air, and she can see riots of color and ruffle before she’s halfway down the block. She could slip inside, if she felt like drawing attention; instead she leans against a lamp-post and pulls an apple out of her sleeve, nibbling as slowly as she can. It’s all the view and time she’ll need.

The gowns inside are swathes of bright, elaborate cloth with a corset worn over them like a jerkin, rather than underneath — that alone would be enough for Ystride de Caulignot to hate them, most likely. The leather is every shade of lustrous black and deep warm brown, sometimes cupping the mannequins’ breasts and sometimes cut beneath to frame them, elegant but clearly meant to tantalize. And the skirts — some are only a few inches of ruffle at the front and a trailing train, but almost more tantalizing are the ones that sweep long and lovely and then cut high over one hip, with a delicate frill of underlining beneath the skirt just to make sure and catch the eye. One has a bodice that cuts low over the collarbones and sleeves that slip off the shoulders in soft puffs; she’d need to stay well back from a fight in that, but it would leave her space to move, to cast. It might be meant to do that, even. Or there’s another that has armor plates worked into the design as smoothly as the leather, built up over the left arm — that would let her catch bonebreaking blows on her off-hand and keep on fighting, if she wanted. It’s far less armor than Sidurgu wears, but it would be more than enough for the way that Elilona fights.

A place like this would work in whatever colors she liked, if she wanted to keep her favorites. She could get a dress in fountaining white, and ask them to make the frilled underlayer in robin’s-egg blue — maybe the sleeves, too. They’re made to flatter anyone. No one could think of her as a child still in something like this, no matter how slow she is to hit her last growth — these would make somebody notice her breasts, would make her legs look long and slim and lovely. Would make her look like a woman, and a capable one, and somebody worth wanting.

It’s not as if Sid pays attention to money. She could order one on her own, and say nothing, and walk into the Forgotten Knight, and watch him see her.

Rielle closes her eyes and breathes out once, slowly. It could eat up everything they have saved, for this kind of elegance. Even if it didn’t, it’s wasteful to buy a dress that had damn well better not fit her in another year. And if Sid still insists on closing his eyes and pretending she’s a child as soon as it stops being important — if she can’t make him treat this as important, no matter how she looks — if —

In. Out.

He trusts her to fight beside him, now. He puts his life in her hands and he admits that he’s doing it. He walks away from fights when she pulls him back. He holds her after her nightmares and he lets her hold him after his. None of that was true a year ago.

She’ll give it another year. That’ll give her time to save up, and to really think about what she wants, and then the dress she chooses will last for years. And if Sid doesn’t appreciate it, she can find somebody who will. And if she still comes back to drag her Sid out of the gutter and keep him on their path alive, it will be her choice.

#ffxivwrite #final fantasy xiv #sidurgu orl #rielle de caulignont #ficlets

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huenjin · 4 years

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the study of relationships.

summary — college team's volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn't want that best friend tag anymore.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho

genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au

rating — nc-17

word count — 15k words

note — kinda excited to post this very long plotted fic on here because first long fic for skz !!! this fic is brought to you by hq, hyunjin's long blond hair and b me mv that we never got. please please do send me constructive criticism so that i can improve on my writing for this community. happy reading!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa."

Your best friend, Hwang Hyunjin yells at the top of his voice, pitch lower in precision as you open the door and slam it shut forcefully, the sound loud enough to bounce to him clearly. Your feet storm hard against the wooden flooring of your apartment, sound bouncing off from that again and Hyunjin pauses his video game to look at you.

It's a familiar sight. Hyunjin sighs.

"Hey," he tries catching your attention but he fails. You storm into your room, hair flailing behind you in your anger, eyes blurry with the angst you feel that wraps slowly around your heart. You walk into the room and slam the door shut, so loud that a chip of wood breaks from the top of the door and falls down.

"Jesus Christ! Y/N—" Hyunjin yells to no one in particular. However, he drops his controller to the side of the couch and jumps to his feet only after pausing his game. He takes big strides to your room and in high contrast to his rash movements, his knocking on your door is very gentle.

"Can I come in?" He asks, scratching the door absentmindedly. He presses his ear and head against the door to hear a response but all he hears are your soft cries and it makes him sad.

"Y/N—"

"Go away, Hyunjin!"

"Y/N, let me in," he stresses, his leg kicking the air slightly, dangling before that. "I—"

"You're going to make fun of me."

"Will not." Hyunjin knows where this stems from and he won't deny. However, at this minute, he just wants to be there for you. Teasing could wait for an hour or so after you've calmed down. "So please?"

You hum and Hyunjin waits for a sign of protest. When he hears none, he takes it as an approval to open the door and the sight before him hurts him ever so slightly.

You are wrapped in a cocoon of your white blanket and your head is buried in the sheets outside, not ready to look up at your best friend. He frowns as he walks towards you, letting himself to sit by your side. He stretches his arm out and stops when you declare,

"I'm a world class dumpee."

"You are," he shrugs, voice tainted with a slight tease and you look up at him, glaring with your red, puffy eyes. You try shoving him but the cocoon you are wrapped in slightly falls forward too in impact. Hyunjin laughs and stretches both his arms forward to prevent you from falling forwards.

You pout, mumbling with a voice that is strained and is your proof of the urge to cry, "You promised you wouldn't."

"I'm your best friend," he shrugs and pushes your body wrapped in the thick blankets backwards, your head hitting against the pillow. A soft whine leaves your lips, followed by an oomph. "You knew I was going to tease you at the very first opportunity."

And then Hyunjin pounces on you, tickling your sides over the covers and your tickle sensitive being rushes in sensation as you laugh your heart out, chest heavy and mind focussing only on your best friend that you forget about the boy who broke up with you an hour back.

"Stop," you laugh. "Hyunjin," you whine. "Stop, you idiot," you laugh again. "I'm going to kill you—"

Hyunjin's laughter fills the air along with yours. In your perspective through your watery eyes, you see a boy with no worries and all smiles and you want to be like that. You desperately want to be like that. You push your wrapped body upwards to shove Hyunjin to the side and it works. He laughs, slowly receding with yours and he lets out a loud relieved sigh as he looks at your face with less creases and tears that now fall due to laughter.

"Hey," Hyunjin says and you turn your head to face him. His face is rigid, the childish gleam that he had just a while back long gone.

"Yeah?"

He sits up, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms soon after. "The guy was a jerk," he tells, helping you up. His hand finds the end of the blanket and unwraps it slowly from your being. "He was a mighty jerk, okay?"

"He is your teammate, Lee Minho," you stare, dead into his eyes and he shrugs.

"I know," he sighs before shrugging, giving you a nonchalant look. "What was it this time? Let me guess, he broke up with you for no reason again."

You hit the blankets that cover your thigh hard and send imaginary daggers in Hyunjin's way, "Yeah! I just don't understand why he'd break up with me."

"Uh, possibly because—"

"Is it because I'm on like close friend terms with everyone in the college volleyball team? I mean, Lee Minho always said dating—"

"Dating you would be hard, Y/N," Hyunjin continues, mocking your ex-boyfriend's voice. "You hang out with so many guys and all your best friends are dudes that it makes me jealous," Hyunjin pauses, placing his hands flat on the bed from behind as he leans back. "Ah, Lee Minho, that bastard. He always did say that to you."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers and you roar out in anger. Hyunjin looks at you amused until you say, "Why can't guys be more like girls?"

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin's eyebrow is raised and he laughs mockingly. He lifts his arms from behind, stretches his back before sitting up straight. He kicks his legs and raises it upwards to sit cross legged, looking straight at you and laughs again. "You are totally kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not, Hyunjin," your eyebrows furrow. "The reason behind most, if not all, break-ups is the guy."

Hyunjin agrees with you deep down. Okay, maybe not completely but at least a ninety percent and that's a good one. However, he knows how competitive you are and if there's something that can get your head out of this post break up blues, it's this.

A competition. And so just to entice you a little, he sneers, "If anything, girls should be more like guys."

"Bitch, no," you laugh, head falling back at the sheer stupidity that rolls out from your best friend's mouth. "Men are so conceited that they had to make a whole word for treating women equal."

"Not all men simp. Plus, it's an AAVE and that people should not use it. In my defense, I've treated you like a guy my whole life," he shrugs. Lies. Lies. Lies he spews out endlessly because at one point, without him even knowing, things did change and he's seen you as a woman; as a woman he now has feelings for.

Hyunjin, to prove his point, hits you on his back like you've seen him do with all his teammates and your torso bends forward from your hips on impact. "See!" He stretches his arms, tattoos on display in the loose half sleeved black top he wears and you wince, stretching your hand back to rub only for Hyunjin to stop laughing quickly and rub your back, mumbling, "Sorry."

"Hyunjin," you shrug, mumbling, trying to guide your best friend. "Don't ever use the not all men tag, please."

He slaps a hand over his mouth, realising his error, again apologising and you stretch your hand forward quickly to protest, "No, no," you tell, "You don't have to apologise. I just hope you know how it sounds."

"I do," he falls back, lying down against your mattress. "I do and I hate that I accidentally said it."

You follow suit, and fall on the bed, hair splaying around, some falling on Hyunjin's face. He groans, moving the hair away and whining, "It got into my mouth, ew." You laugh.

Hyunjin speaks out, staring at the ceiling, "Whose fault is it that a relationship goes astray?"

"Still going to say the men," you look at the same spot he stares at. "They're—"

"It's a war."

"See!" You exclaim. "This is the issue with men. They cut us off all the time."

Hyunjin laughs, hand stretching out to hold your wrist to soothe you down and mumbling another apology, he continues, "This is a battle, Y/N; a battle that's aged long and has never come to a conclusion. The battle—"

"Get to the point."

"Look who cut me off now."

"Touché."

"Anyhow," he continues. "The battle between men and women."

"You definitely sounded like a prepubescent boy there," you look at Hyunjin. His skin is so clear, you notice, making a mental note to steal his skin care products later. He turns a second later to face you and he nods, "Don't care. Definitely going to win this."

"You wish," you let out a condescending laugh. "I'm going to beat your ass, Hyunjin."

"Kinky," he smiles that stupid, toothy grin of his, "I likey."

"You gross pubescent boy," you shove at his arms only for him to quickly hold your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours in the midst of the squabble. You let him, still laughing lightly, lungs light and mind free from all the sad thoughts.

"I see that I've got an upgrade."

"You did."

You're about to thank Hyunjin for this small gesture that probably seems to be nothing when his phone rings from the other room. The scary unexpected track to Tokyo Ghoul's opening – Unravel – that you can't help but accept that you've grown to like, plays.

He lets go of your hand and jolts upwards, jumping off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips unexpectedly and Hyunjin smiles at that. He pulls up the blankets over your body that he shifted, mumbling, "You should sleep early. You had a tough day."

"No," you whine yet again, "Let's talk more—" His phone rings louder, the scream part of the ringtone jolting you up and your hand falls on your chest in shock. "Hate when your phone does."

"And yet you sing along to it," he sings, humming the tune.

"Pfft," you scoff, holding onto the blanket, scrunching it in your grip. "Go. It's probably about the practise match against Yonsei University."

He hums in agreement, folding the blanket again carefully, right below your neck, his cold hands brushing against your clavicle and the temperature difference runs a shiver down your spine.

Hyunjin switches off the light as he walks out, gently closing the door shut and you watch your best friend throwing a small smile at you before leaving. Did you really deserve all this care? Perhaps not.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, dashes out to get the phone before the caller cuts the call in frustration. He's definitely not spending the money to call back whoever it is. That shit is expensive. He jumps a couple of steps and grabs his phone, accepting the call before looking at the name of the caller.

"Hyunjin…" It's Lee Minho. "Can you come over?"

"I really want to throw a punch at you, you bastard."

And Hyunjin does. Virtually, of course. Over the game they are playing. He couldn't afford to injure a fellow teammate when the preliminaries are right around the corner.

"Bro," Minho sighs. "Can you go easy on me?"

His game character hits Minho's again, the energy bar of the other drastically going down on the screen. Hyunjin can't stop. The frustration that he has pent up over the last hour after seeing you cry and crumble over being dumped by his other friend drives him to the edge and he delivers another punch. Minho's character dramatically collapses as soon as the energy bar is empty and he drops the console by his side, pressing his back against the sofa, arms wrapped against his chest, pouting.

"I—"

"Go on," Hyunjin glares at him. "You better have a good explanation."

Minho runs a hand through his hair and sitting up straight, turning his torso to face Hyunjin, he tells, "I don't."

"You're lucky that we have a match soon, else you'd be six feet underground," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his hands over his head and folding it behind. "I can't believe you did that to Y/N."

"I fell out of love with her," Minho says. He doesn't dare to look at Hyunjin because he fears if the glares would actually result in him six feet underground. "Can't that be the only reason?"

Hyunjin chuckles, moreso at himself than at his friend, mumbling under his breath so low that Minho thinks it's just him humming, "Is it possible to fall out of love with her?"

He wishes Lee Minho could tell him how.

Hyunjin stands up, patting his denim jeans and looking at Minho, he warns, eyebrows furrowing, "I'll help her out with this. Just don't be a jerk and start dating in like two days."

"I—" Hyunjin glares at him. "Fine."

"Practice at seven," he adds and grabs the key of his motorcycle from the table before him. "Don't be late and act normal around Y/N."

"Fine, sir," Minho rolls his eyes. He won't admit it ever but the man warning him could be the reason for his breakup. That and his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him. But it's mostly Hwang Hyunjin. He knows how he feels even if you didn't.

Hyunjin walks out of Minho's house, closing the door on his way out and getting on his motorcycle, he rides back home to you. Just as he had promised you.

He opens the door to your room as soon as he enters his house, removing his shoes and placing it to the side, only to find his ears listening to the soft snores that let free from your lips. Carefully he walks towards you, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin lightly and tilting your head upwards to help you breathe properly.

He pauses for a minute just to watch you. Your eyebrows that you dislike so much just because according to you, it's not thick enough. He loves it however, even though you would never listen to him. Your eyelashes cast a gentle shadow on your high cheekbones and he gasps because you're so beautiful. You're so near to him and yet so far.

He bends forward, pushes your fringes to the side and places a soft kiss against your forehead, mumbling the words he wishes he could tell you straight up. Even if he did, you'd probably laugh and scoff at him.

"Beautiful girl," his lips graze the skin by your forehead, "You are a fighter. You have always been a fighter. You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you believe. Every challenge that life has thrown at you, you've conquered every obstacle that has been placed in front of you. You've overcome every single one of them. You are unstoppable and unbreakable and right now, you are filled with more faith than you have ever been."

Hyunjin pulls away, softly caressing the hair by the side of your face, "So please believe in yourself. You're worth so much love. So much of it, Y/N."

"The jerseys came!"

Bang Chan screams, a huge grin on his face as he opens the door for you. He runs to Felix and holds onto his shoulders before jumping up and down in joy. He is so delighted. "It looks so good, dude."

Hyunjin smiles, running towards you and helping you with the cardboard box. "It's alright," you mumble. "I'm the manager. It's my job."

"Pfft," he scoffs. "And I'm your best friend. It's my job." He picks the huge box that covers your entire upper half, easily and places it down before the coach and the team.

Jisung rushes to your side, nudging you with his elbow, "We've got a pretty good manager." He bends down and rips open the box, taking his jersey in his hand, "Number 13, bitches. Nothing shows what an amazing libero I am like the number most feared." You laugh.

"Number 10 isn't that bad, I guess." You hear Minho's voice break through the cluster of voices and your movements still. You turn your head to look at the brown haired boy who towers over you, wearing a smile so pretty that your heart still skips a beat.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiles. "Thanks for bringing this over."

"Uh," you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze everywhere else besides at Minho. "I guess. It's my job, yeah."

Hyunjin notices. He always does. The boy runs towards you with his jersey. Number 1 printed in big behind. The setter brings the jersey so close to your face that it's buried in the fresh opened shirt. "Number 1, of course," he laughs, scrunching the shirt in his hand as he raises both his arms above.

"Oh, shut up, Jinnie," you laugh.

"Yeah, shut up, Jinnie," Jisung echoes. The middle blocker, though not the tallest in stature, is excellent at his position and has the biggest love-hate relationship with your best friend. He folds his arms and mocks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin places his right hand down on Jisung's head, ruffling his hair after pressing down on it. He scolds the older boy, "Don't call me Jinnie. Y/N's the only one who gets to call me that."

"Stop gathering around people," The captain claps his hands together to gather all of your attention. You quickly rush to his side and he smiles at you warmly, before looking at his team and glaring at each of them as they gather around him. "Yonsei University was kind enough to arrange a practice match with us thanks to—"

"Y/N," Jisung shouts, pivoting his arms by their sockets before lifting them both high above his head, cheering for you.

"Don't cut me off, Han," the coach shoots daggers at him, frowning visibly at the disobedience. "One more time and you're running around the gymnasium twenty times."

Jisung groans, only after winking at you. You chuckle under your breath, covering your face with the notepad in your hand. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, nudging Jisung to 'keep it in his pants' in the scariest voice ever. You could feel the dark clouds around Hyunjin, the aura darkening for a split minute before he breaks out into a huge smile as he looks at you.

The coach instructs out commands; strategies to help the team win against Yonsei. Moves that he's studied after watching their matches. You know this because you watched Hyunjin do the same at home. He does it at odd timings though.

You would wake up at three in the morning to grab a glass of water and you'd find your best friend squatting in front of the television as he watches every single one of Yonsei's matches. He wouldn't listen to you telling him to go to sleep because, "Being the captain is hard, Y/N. The whole team's banking on me to set the ball perfectly at the right time. I can't..."

And you understand. You understand the worries that go around in his head, the anxiety of being the best because he's no genius. He got to the top, made a name for him all thanks to his hard work and if he needs to keep it — he won't have it any other way — he swears to god that he would practise and study till he drops dead. Hwang Hyunjin loves volleyball that much.

So, you do what any friend would do.

You would make two cups of coffee, one for him and one for yourself. You sit next to him and watch the match with him. Your head lays back against the soft material of the sofa, just watching Hyunjin's eyes fixed on the screen, studying each movement of every player, gasping occasionally at how the setter of Yonsei's team leans his head back to decoy the opposite team only to dump the ball.

You don't remember much from that night because you fall asleep way too quick in the silence and in the presence of a focussed Hyunjin, your cup of coffee half empty. You don't remember anything from that night besides the fact that you woke up in your bed the next morning, or more like, Hyunjin waking you up the next morning because you overslept. Either ways, you were back in your bed and for that, you were grateful.

And as soon as the coach is done with the instructions, the team members scramble before splitting themselves into two groups, first to do serves and then perfect shots and finally, have a practice match.

You sit next to the coach, watching each and every member. That's what the previous manager told you to do. To observe. That's what the manager must do. To observe so well that you know each member well enough to know how their mind works, how their personalities are and who they truly want to be.

This is exactly why you can't seem to ever hate Lee Minho. Because you've seen him on the court, at his very best.

He's the best darn middle blocker you've ever seen. He doesn't tower that much over people with his height but when he jumps, lifting off his feet, he is as good as a wall cemented and strong before the opponent. He has only got better with every practice match and you realise that he wants to be better. And that's how he truly is. The constant urge to do better than the person he was before and perhaps, to Minho, you are someone he wants to leave behind in the past.

There's no one to blame here and you realise that it's a lot better if you accept the truth before it hurts you more than it should.

But then, in a second, Hyunjin takes your attention away whole heartedly. The boy arches his body so beautifully as he sets the ball for Jisung who slams the ball over the net with such force that leaves you gaping, notebook slamming your thigh. The coach stands up, his heels slamming the ground first before his toes do and he is as stunned as you are, eyes wide.

Funnily, Jisung's surprised too.

"We did it!" He says slowly, his words gradually making sense to him and when it does, he rushes to him, holding his shoulders and jumping ecstatically, "Hwang Hyunjin, we fucking did it!"

"When did you guys practice that?" The coach cuts the commotion short with his question. Hyunjin turns to face him along with Jisung, scratching the back of his head. Jisung is so overjoyed that he rushes to the coach, "Today morning! It sounded delusional but we pulled it off, coach."

You look at Hyunjin, who turns his attention back to you as soon as the coach is scrambling off to tell more instructions to Jisung on how he should time it a little bit earlier to hit it with even more impact. You smile, giving him a thumbs up and Hyunjin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you guys finally dating now that Minho's out of the picture?" Chan nudges Hyunjin. The man stumbles a step forward on impact only to quickly look at the older with eyes so wide that he wonders if it were possible.

"What?" He splutters the words out, voice haphazard after the cough.

"Everyone in the team thinks you guys should," Chan shrugs and Hyunjin's face morphs into that of seriousness almost instantly and shoots the other male with, "Did Minho hear of this?"

"Perhaps," Chan catches the ball Felix throws at him. The coach claps his hands to bring the attention back to him, barking out orders to resume the game. Chan pats Hyunjin's shoulders, "You know what we always tell, Hyunjin, in this sport—"

"Take the shot when you see the opportunity."

"Exactly."

"Or someone's going to block again," Chan sniggers and looks at Minho, who was trying his very best to avoid your gaze, "This time round, it could be someone better than our middle blocker."

You're picking up the volleyballs lying around when the guys go to shower and change, dribbling them slightly and smiling to yourself. A figure towers over you as they drop a ball into the huge bucket. You turn around to look up at Minho.

"Can we speak?"

"Do we have more to say?"

"I guess," he shrugs.

"We can still be friends, Minho," you sigh, eyes closed. "I also won't be those annoying types to tell Hyunjin to stay away from you because you broke up with me. You should know better."

"I didn't mean that," Minho looks offended. "I wanted to apologise. I should have tried harder perhaps."

"You should have."

"I know," Minho sucks in his lower lip. "I really should have but you know—"

"Lee Minho," your voice is firm. "I've told you a gazillion times that Hyunjin and I are just friends, Minho. Somehow you made up this sort of weird thing in your head so don't drag me into this mess. This is yours."

Minho scoffs, "You're going to eat your words soon," and picks up another ball. You remember the task you had forgotten in the heat of the moment, rushing to pick up a ball to put it back. The rest of the team is slowly making their way outside.

"I doubt," you sigh, throwing the last ball into the bucket and dusting your hands together. Jisung's darting towards you, hands in the air. Minho moves to the side, gliding against the floor, making way for the shorter man to reach you, bubbling with such enthusiasm you wonder what the cause of it is.

"Felix is treating us!"

Ah, so that's the reason. You smile at Jisung, nodding your approval. You push the bucket to the side of the gymnasium with Minho's help and switch the lights off as the team exits the gymnasium.

"Lee Minho!" You hear a feminine voice through the air, your eyebrows quirking upwards automatically. Hyunjin walks to your side, sighing as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket, mumbling so softly that you barely catch it, "I warned that asshole, God damn him."

Minho's face lights up in a way you haven't seen in a while and your heart is heavy. The woman, Irene — you hear Chan shout her name and wave at her — locks her arm with Minho's and walks with him, the man doing nothing to push her away. It shouldn't affect you. Not anymore now that the two of you have broken up and yet it hurts.

Hyunjin quickly pulls you away, preventing your eyes from lingering further even a minute more. His hand holds yours and he drags you to his motorcycle. You look down, biting the insides of your cheeks, alternating between the right and left every time you taste the copper of the blood.

"Your hand is so small," Hyunjin says. "Like look at how it fits into mine," he laughs, lifting your hand upwards as he clasps it tightly. He mumbles, "So small."

You break into a smile, watching Hyunjin tease you, momentarily drifting from the thought that upsets you and it leaves you wondering how Hyunjin does it all the time. He lets go of your hand, ruffling your hair as he bends lightly, "You've got this."

He quickly turns on the heels of his feet, pulling out the keys to his bike and igniting it. You hear Jisung scream from behind, "I thought you were taking me with you!"

Hyunjin screams back, "Carpool with the rest. I'm taking Y/N."

He lifts his leg, straddling the bike as he holds onto the handles, kicking the support free. He turns towards you and tells you to hop on and you do as he says. Your fingers hold his jacket, making sure you're not hugging him from behind. Minho's words run in your head and Hyunjin notices this small gesture of yours but he pays no heed. After all, it's been a while since he realised that what he has with you is better when it's platonic. He is too afraid to lose you.

"Jinnie," you tell him as he starts the motorbike, accelerating behind Jin who leads the way. You hear your best friend scream, "Yeah," through the loud winds that hit you.

You lean forward and speak closer into his ears, your jaw hitting his helmet, "Remember how I said the guys are to be blamed in a relationship."

"Yeah," he hints at you to proceed.

"Here's my first point. Minho back there," you point out. "It was that easy for a guy to move on. That easy," you stress your word. "While I'm here repenting if there was any way to get things back to where it was. However, there's no use in me trying because there's Minho with Irene like our relationship was a thing in the past."

"That doesn't mean he didn't care about you during the relationship. That's how guys are. They give it their everything when they're in the relationship," Hyunjin reasons and you laugh sardonically.

"You're kidding me, right? The girl definitely cares more. It almost seems so easy for the guys to break up and move on. Remember the time when you broke up with Lisa," you speak, raising your tone a little more so that Hyunjin can hear you. The motorcycle moving against the wind causes your hair to touch your mouth and you're spitting hair out facing the side. Hyunjin laughs, his grip on the accelerator tightening as he speeds up just a little bit, causing you to hold onto his jacket pockets a little tighter.

"Bro," Hyunjin mutters when you bring up Lisa. "I cried enough when she broke up with me, okay?"

"You did, for a day or two," you state. "The girl cried her heart out for a whole week. You went partying that Friday with Jisung!"

"Are we now using quantitative measurements to determine how deep our care and love is?" Hyunjin gasps, sounding very offended. "This reminds me why most relationships don't work. Because girls are shallow as fuck."

Hyunjin accelerates, missing sight of the speed breaker in front of him. It hurls you onto his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist to keep you safe. A soft scream leaves your lips as the side of your face buries into his broad back.

"Sorry," Hyunjin apologises quickly. "Didn't see that!" Hyunjin prays that you don't move your arms away but you do and he sighs, face falling. He is glad that you can't see him. Your hand is back to gripping his jacket and head back in this battle of words you're currently having with your best friend.

"It's okay," you tell him. "What's not okay is how you think women are shallow."

"They are!" He takes a turn to the left. Your thigh muscles tighten as it straddles the seat, fingers digging into his side for support. "I mean, let's be real, sweetheart. You take an hour or more to get ready for college."

"Because I want to look presentable!" You hit his broad back and he chuckles.

"Lies! You're shallow!"

"Says the person who walks around shirtless at home and stares at the mirror, lightly touching your abs and saying perfect," you tease and Hyunjin turns to look at you for a minute with his eyes wide before he turns his attention back on the road.

"You saw that?"

"Of course. I see that every day."

"But you're watching the television, how?"

"Reflections," you state.

He's gasping. The motorcycle slows down as it reaches Pizza Alvolo. The pizzeria is adjacent to a pretty park and you can hear the birds chirp lowly right before the sun is ready to set. You jump off the motorcycle, dusting the denims covering your thighs and Hyunjin removes his helmet, hooking it to the handle securely.

The rest of the team are seated in the pizzeria already waiting for the two of you, waving at you as soon as you enter the place. You rush and sit next to Jisung who has been aggravatingly patting the seat next to him. Hyunjin sits opposite to you, next to Chan. He snatches the menu from him and the elder male whines at the behaviour.

You look around and notice that Minho hasn't reached the place yet. Not that it mattered to you. You will slowly learn to stop caring so much for a man and you will soon be able to look at him and think of only the fond memories and nothing more.

Or so you thought.

The minute you see Minho walk into the pizzeria, although not with Irene, you feel the ground slip underneath you. Jisung is nice enough — albeit not knowing of the whole pickle you are in — to hold your wrist and turn your attention towards the stack of pizza boxes that come your way as he gleams, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

You look away from Minho and toward the direction Jisung points before turning to look at Hyunjin who lets out a loud sigh. You know that he's clutching at his thick thighs, nails digging into it at the sight of your uncomfortability. Hyunjin knows it will take you days to get over this break up, maybe weeks and that as a good best friend, he should wait. He should understand.

But it frustrates him so much. The sight of you being in pain, in hurt because of another man — his other best friend at that — pisses him off way more than he thought it should at first.

Hyunjin quickly takes his phone out and you narrow your eyes at him, mouthing, "Rude. Put it back into your pocket." In a second, your phone dings and you take yours out. Minho sits by Jisung's side in that second, a seat away from you and your heartbeat accelerates. You unlock your phone to see a message from Hyunjin and you lift up your head, raising an eyebrow at him and he eyes at you to open the message.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. You don't respond immediately, locking the phone and shoving it back into your pocket. You smile at Hyunjin, trying to signal that you were alright so far. Jisung opens the cardboard boxes of the pizza and squeals. Chan looks at the situation, analysing if it'd be bad for the team on a bigger approach. Hyunjin might be the captain but had it not been for Chan's guidance, the volleyball team would not have lasted a day more with the differences.

Felix announces, "Eat to your heart's merry! I might never treat again." He takes the first bite for courtesy's sake before telling everyone to join in.

The team laughs and Minho smiles, the skin by his eyes wrinkling and your heart stops to remember all the reasons you were so madly in love with this man. It is at this minute you realise it'll take you maybe a little longer than you thought, a little longer than a casual fling and a little lesser than a long term relationship. You should have known this is bound to happen the minute you allowed yourself to let your petty emotions take over.

And maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that you have to pretend to be alright with having Minho around you that makes this heartbreak pain ten times worse.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin already seems to know because he doesn't stop glancing at you after every bite of the slice he has in his hand.

You stretch your arm out to take a slice of the pepperoni pizza on the table at the same time Minho stretches his arms out to take one. Your fingers brush against his and you jolt your hand backwards, mumbling, "Sorry."

Jisung laughs without knowing and teases, "Why would you apologise for brushing your boyfriend's hand?" He takes a bite of his pizza and as soon as he finishes chewing, he continues, "I mean, you guys do nastier stuff and suddenly, you all are prim and proper, Y/N. Love the contrast you exhibit. It's beautiful. You guys could be at it every time I catch you in the gymnasium alone. Also, you're his longest relationship. You should pride yourself—"

Jisung is speaking and you won't look up. Hyunjin has dropped the knife slightly just to try and get him to stop, though in vain and Minho's looking at you. His eyes won't leave your frame and you just want to leave. It is too early for you to be alright with this. Way too early.

"Stop, Jisung," Chan tells him, reading the situation in the room.

"Why?" Jisung's laughing. Felix understands by now, seeing your face hung down and so does the rest of the team besides the man himself. You can't even come to be angry at Jisung because he seems so innocent, unaware of it all.

You spill the beans for your own heart's safety, "Minho broke up with me."

Minho doesn't shift his eyes at anyone else and Hyunjin holds the knife again, a little too tight this time. Jisung's smile turns instantly into a frown and he turns his head to glare at your now ex-boyfriend.

He doesn't bother to filter his words. "Why the fuck did you do that, you arsehole?" Minho turns to look at Jisung for a split second before his eyes are back at yours. You lift your head to lock gaze with him and you feel your chest tighten, eyes water and it hurts.

Everything seems so much more painful.

Chan says once again, his voice firm, ready to not listen to one more word of the conversation, "Stop it, Jisung. Read the room."

You stretch your arm out to have another bite of the pizza and everyone eats in silence. The room is pregnant with the most awkward silence you had been in your whole life. You take your phone out, unlocking it and finally replying to the message.

Jisung puts another slice of pizza onto your plate and you smile at him. Felix tries breaking the uneasy tension by talking about this dude he met in his neighborhood that was kind of cute. After sitting for another two minutes, you push your chair back to Jisung's surprise and stand up. Hyunjin stands up instinctively, his calves pushing his chair back and everyone at the table looks at the two of you.

Jinnie: do you want to leave?

"I just realised I have to do some grocery shopping," you laugh nervously. "There's absolutely nothing back at home. Not that Hyunjin would buy anything and keep, right?"

Hyunjin chuckles and everyone in the room knows quite obviously that you are trying to escape the scene. They are kind enough to let you. Felix asks, spilling the oregano seasonings on top of his pizza slice, "Is Hyunjin going with you?"

"Ye—"

"No," you cut your best friend before he can give his approval. "I'll go alone." You stretch your arm out, palm facing upwards, "Keys, please?"

"Don't hurt my baby," Hyunjin's sincerity is voiced and you laugh genuinely. Little did you know he meant both you and his motorbike. He drops the key to his motorbike onto your hand and you do a little cheer. Jisung mumbles, "Cute," before stuffing his face with pizzas.

"Have a good time, guys," you wish them and grab your bag, hanging on the chair. Jisung waves enthusiastically. Felix, Chan and the rest of the team waves too. You smile fondly at your team and walk towards the door only to find Hyunjin following you.

"What do you think you are doing right now, mister?"

"Can't I walk you out at the very least, woman?" Hyunjin gapes in dismay. He pulls open the glass door and you laugh.

"Sure thing," you say and walk towards his motorbike. Hyunjin leaves the door after stepping out, the glass door swinging back to shut itself. You swing your legs over his bike, straddling the automobile and dropping your chest slightly to balance the heavy vehicle.

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Don't you trust your teaching? You taught me how to ride this thing. Don't worry."

You look over Hyunjin's shoulder to see Minho still looking at you, worry smeared all over his face and you feel your throat constricting again as you do your best to tear your eyes away from him.

Hyunjin takes a step closer, making sure everything's alright with the vehicle so that it doesn't endanger you. He places his hand over your wrist and you look at him in confusion, "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," you laugh. "What are you? My daddy?"

Hyunjin stiffens for a minute before he lets go of all the inappropriate thoughts that fill him for a minute there before teasing you, "Do you want me to be your daddy?"

"Nah," you throw your head back. "You aren't that rich enough." You place the helmet over your head and look at him. Hyunjin taps your helmet and hugs you slightly.

"I'll see you at home."

You start the bike on ignition and look over Hyunjin's shoulder one last time to look at Minho, locking gazes with him before you pull yours away from him towards Hyunjin.

You look ahead, the clear road in front of you and turn the accelerator only after telling Hyunjin, giggling slightly,

"Sure thing, Daddy."

Hyunjin, on the other hand, is too caught up in his worry, eyes lingering behind the trailing presence of yours that finally disappears from his sight into a speck that fades away. In any other circumstances, he would have found your petite figure driving the huge motorcycle and you even calling him daddy, although in a teasing tone, insanely hot.

Right now, however, he just hopes you are safe. He wishes he could be by your side at every second.

Gaho's Stay Here blasts on the bluetooth speaker. Hyunjin pulls open the door only to find you lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with the most emotionless face he has ever seen you with. His eyes dart towards the empty bottles of soju on the small table in the hall.

"Y/N?"

You sit up, looking at your best friend and your lip pucker out quickly pouting at the sight of him and you stretch your arms out wide, squealing, "Hyunjinnie. You are home."

Hyunjin walks towards you, plopping on the couch and sitting next to you. He quickly lifts his arm up, hand darting back and forth at the air to steer the smell away as he frowns at you, "You reek of liquor, dude."

You quickly hug him, wrapping your arms around his frame from the side and snuggling your face into his shoulder. Hyunjin stiffens under your grip and he looks down at your being with eyes closed and he realises that you might after all just be a small being in need of some loving. He wishes to be the person to do that. Hwang Hyunjin utterly and truly wants to be your person.

Hyunjin takes your phone to stop playing the music — Stay Here that's been currently playing on repeat for the twentieth time straight — and you whine against his skin, tickles running down Hyunjin's spine.

"Don't stop the music," you mumble and Hyunjin looks at you and your figure that hugs him securely, head snuggled by his neck, chin digging into the skin by his collarbone and all Hyunjin can focus on is his heart that is beating furiously against his chest.

"Y/N," Hyunjin's voice seems like an anchor to your woozy mind and you hug him tighter, gripping stronger on to his white shirt. You hum in response and Hyunjin continues, "Gaho's music doesn't seem very fitting for the minute."

You pull apart, your face morphing and changing into that of offense as you glare at him, mumbling, "Gaho is the only one that understands me." You play the music again, the bluetooth speakers blasting with the sad slow tune in the air and you feel the want to cry all over again.

You stretch your arm out to take a soju bottle from the table to down it all out when Hyunjin stretches out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. He locks his eyes with yours and in the softest, most caring voice you've ever heard from him, he says, "Don't, Y/N. It hurts me too."

"Can I hold you?"

In a split moment, the room is filled with just the soft beats of Gaho's Start Over playing, your raspy breaths and Hyunjin's lost stare. His grip on your wrist tightens and your mind is far too intoxicated to think if this friendship could be ruined. Your heart is heavy, chest tight and you want someone to free you. Anyone. You are clawing at the imaginary wall all by yourself and anyone could be a help. Anyone that is not Lee Minho.

"Yes," and you fall on Hyunjin at the exact same moment he pulls your hand closer towards him. The timing seems to have lapsed on to each other. Your chest on Hyunjin's, eyes looking up at him as your arms snake slowly over his torso. You snuggle forward, rubbing against his body slightly and Hyunjin sighs.

To Hyunjin, the scene is a lot dramatic just because of the soft music playing and because you are drunk off your head according to him, barely able to make decisions. He just doesn't want to do anything that will make either of your friendships but right now, in this minute with you almost on top of him, locking your eyes in his, your arms around his torso, close enough to feel every part of your being, he wants to be drunk too.

Hyunjin wants to be drunk so that he can make a mistake. Hyunjin wants to be so drunk that he can't think just because he is a coward.

"Do you feel better?" He asks and you snuggle into his chest, burying your face into it as you hold him. Your lonely heart being comforted by just his presence and in the back of your drunk head, you know you feel a little bit more that causes your heart to flutter when Hyunjin cares.

You and Hyunjin are both cowards — two small people in this big world with big emotions unwilling to risk one status for another, over the fear of losing each other.

But Hyunjin wants to risk it tonight. After years of pining, he wants to risk this golden friendship he has shared with you for years now. You are the trigger, however. You lift your face away from his chest and crawl slightly towards him, pushing yourself against him. You look at him, lips pressed together and you stretch your right arm upwards to hold his face in your hand.

"Jinnie," your voice lets out his name in such an airy tone that it seems to disappear away even before it reaches his ear. His eyes are glassy and his heart is in his throat, eager in nothing but anticipation that is risen from all his hoping.

It happens as he has imagined. You lean forward so slowly that he pictures every second vividly and in an instant, your lips are on his. Hyunjin knows it should have felt wrong but God, save him — nothing felt more right than this.

You kiss him and his whole world falls away. It lingers, like a memory that stays behind. Your lips are slow and soft against him, comforting yourself and him in ways that words would never be. Hyunjin's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss. Something so small and insignificant to seemingly anyone else yet it means the whole world to Hyunjin. It is the whole world to Hyunjin because this is all that is needed to let him astray, hinge released of the stupid restrictions he has made up in his head over you.

Your small kiss is all Hyunjin needs to hold on to because in the next minute, he is pulling you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your coral ones. You let out a small gasp and run your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute.

Hyunjin's lips are slammed against yours, nearly knocking all wind from your lungs and you don't know if it is your feelings or Hyunjin himself. He presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth. Hyunjin kisses you like he thinks it is the last time he will ever be able to have his lips against yours.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. In an instant, you pull away and arch up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against your own, before you draw back into his lips. Hyunjin can feel the burn of hard soju in his mouth, thanks to you, and it rolls off your tongue into his, seeping down his throat and he can't hate it. There is a thrill in its own that Hyunjin knows stems from you.

If it was possible, Hyunjin would slow down time.

You pull back eventually only to hug him, humming against his neck, lips pressed against the soft expanse of his skin. Hyunjin's hand is pressed against your back as he pats you in a steady rhythm, instinctively humming to a tune that could calm you.

"Jinnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," and he feels your weight fall on to his shoulder as you snuggle closer into his neck, your warm breath fanning against him, sending shivers down his spine. "For everything."

Hyunjin holds you for a while, silence and nothing but your breathing that is soft music to his ears, till he hears your soft snores buzzing against his eardrums and he knows you have fallen asleep in his arms, against his chest.

The next morning, you find yourself magically in your bed, comforter on top of you covering every inch of you, head aching thanks to your reckless drinking last night with no memory of whatsoever that happened. Lightheaded you should have known better.

Hyunjin chooses to be a coward, the morning after.

The greens that cover the campus is the only other thing that keeps you sane in this university. The first being, the volleyball team. However, you don't know anymore if it is still, in the present.

You sit on the same bench before a beautiful fountain with a tiger head right in the centre, watching the vast basketball court. A place that holds way more memories to you now than it did a year before.

You shake your legs, feet pointing forward as you listen to music with about half an hour in your hand to waste before you head down towards the gymnasium to meet with the volleyball team. Besides few people that walk down towards their classes, the campus looks pretty stranded as you watch every single person stay happy in their sphere.

"Y/N," you hear your name being called out through yet another one of Gaho's songs and you lift your head up, to look at the person by your side, standing and providing you the shade they probably didn't intend to.

It's the man himself, the one who broke your heart for an explanation that made no sense to you. Lee Minho.

He stands tall, towering over you and your neck aches from looking up at him that you decide to stand up, removing the earbuds and placing it on the wooden bench, next to your phone.

"You're here." You gulp. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to the gym for practice?"

The fountain is everything you associate Minho with — moreover, it is perhaps the relationship with him that you associated the beautiful water fountain with. To see the very same man before you right now is needless to say surprising.

"I could ask you the same thing," Minho chuckles. He takes out a small cone of butterscotch ice cream and extends his arm, offering it to you. You smile softly, thanking him, sitting down back on the bench. "Can I sit here?" He asks and you nod, unwrapping the wrapping paper around the ice cream.

"Yeah," you tap on the seat by your side. You take a bite of your ice cream and Minho visibly flinches, mumbling, "Still the same."

"You broke up with me like two days back. What did you expect? A nirvana attained me?" You scoff. You take another bite of the ice cream, the sensitivity hitting your teeth and you hiss.

"Brutal," Minho chuckles darkly. You scoff, turning your head away and taking another bite of your ice cream. Minho opens his ice cream and you raise an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't eat ice cream though."

"Thought you might want another one," he smiles and the thought of a second ice cream lights you up. "There you go smiling like a dork as always at the thought of it." Minho laughs and you bend forward to take it, your left arm stretching forward. Minho tugs it backwards and your body moves a little more to grab at it until it's too far for you, bringing you to your present position.

Your hand is on Minho's chest, his eyes locked in yours and you are surprised. This is not in your to do list and yet with Minho's grip on your wrist, you drop your ice cream as soon as he edges closer. His face is so close that you can see the perfect plump lips pout slightly, his face glistening in the bright sun and you gasp softly. It has been a while since he has been this close and he still makes your heart go livid within you, beating crazy.

He drops his ice cream in a second, his hands pressing forward to cup your face and pull you into him to kiss the living hell out of you. Your eyes widen, arms falling limp on either side as you stiffen.

"Can I try something?" He hesitates, iron grip on you.

"Try?" You look worried and the next minute, Minho is kissing you, his plump lips on yours for a while before he moves them against yours, taking hold of your lower lip.

It is an instinct. You choose to blame it rather on instincts. Your hand moves to grab the linen draping his arm as you hold it and kiss Minho back. It is as bitter as coffee thanks to all the memories that go along with it and yet — you find yourself drowning. You find yourself wanting more. You find yourself hoping if Minho could stay, if Minho could just pretend to love you, if not.

And it breaks your heart.

All over again.

A lone tear leaves your eyes and then another, till you are crying as you kiss him. A wet messy affair at its finest. Minho pulls back in surprise feeling the wetness against his skin. He cups your face and holds you, looking at you to check for damage — little does he know of the emotional one. Or maybe he does and he chooses to ignore. Typical Lee Minho.

"Did I hurt you?"

Your emotions take over, sanity pushed to the back. You are pulling yourself from Minho as he tries to hold you to calm you down. Your fist plummets down onto his hard chest once and then, for the second time till you are hitting him over and over again till you completely break down in front of him. Minho quickly pulls you into a hug, holding you close till you completely soak his white shirt with your tears.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—" It's a repeated chant. Over and over again till you don't remember how many times you told Minho the same thing. Your mind goes insane with the overdrive of emotions. Did you like Minho still? You don't know. You don't know whether it's the familiarity of his hugs or his kisses or his whole presence that you crave or if it's his love.

"I'm sorry," he whispers and you accept because it's the first time an apology from Lee Minho sounded this sincere. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart." He snuggles into the crook of your neck, swallowed by guilt. Perhaps this is why one should never date their friends; because you lose something much greater.

"I hate you more now for kissing me here," you manage to say, throat rasp from the crying. "How could you stain this memory too? How dare you stain the memory of the location of our first kiss? It was supposed to be a bittersweet memory when I sit here and think." Minho is still hugging you.

"I'm sorry."

It is still bittersweet in a new way, you realise — the fact that Lee Minho kisses you for the last time, you swear to God, in the very same place he kissed you for the first time. The weather changed, the people around changed and the emotions changed. Even after all that, the fountain stays proud and mighty and bears witness to more new relationships and new heartbreaks. Nothing changes besides you. Nothing changes besides what we want.

You pull away from him. Sitting straight, facing the vast basketball court and the juniors playing the game, you make a decision, firm and determined. The soft pink petals fall down from the cherry blossom trees over the two of you and Minho looks at you, and then at the spilled ice cream. To see the boughs that were so bereft in the snow become so beautifully adorned should lift your spirits infinitely and it does slightly. Their scents diffuse in the warming breeze and you hold your head high to savour it.

"Let's stay away from each other for a while."

Minho's eyes shoot up, head lifting up to face you. He does not refute. After all, he knows he has to take a step behind after breaking your heart. What he does not understand is how the two of you could stay away from each other when your friend circles overlap to a large extent.

"How?" He finally asks. "How do I help you with that?"

"By doing just that. Give me space and time to get over you. I'll come back asking for your hand in friendship again," you smile. Your tear stained visage and the difficult smile you put forth is a funny combination but you manage to pull it off well, you'd say. "You don't have to take the first step this time. Let me do this on my own, Minho."

You stand up on your own, grabbing your earphones and your phone. Minho stands up, following suit and asks, "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," you turn only to look at him as you walk backwards. "And you have to head for practice. So get going. I won't have you mess up your performance by all means." You turn back and move ahead. From everything.

"You know I wouldn't," Minho screams back and the last syllable ends with a laugh. You lift your hand to wave and you leave, far, far away from him.

You now have an open wound to stitch back and you know you have to do it on your own.

Hyunjin's phone rings right when he decides to serve the ball. He drops the ball in surprise, the sphere rolling all the way to where his phone is placed. Chan groans, stopping his pace at the sound of the phone ringing, and yells, "Yah! Hyunjin, how many times should I tell you to switch off your phone?"

Felix walks in exactly at that minute, laughing, "Anyone from outside would totally think Chan's the captain!"

Hyunjin runs to his phone, his blond hair strands falling forward, ponytail swinging left and right. Felix laughs at the sight, walking towards the ball and picking it up before throwing it at Chan who catches it swiftly. Hyunjin sees your name on the phone, eyes lighting up instantly and a smile prominent only for Chan to announce, "It's Y/N."

"Of course, it is," Felix scoffs. "Where's the rest of the guys? I thought you said we were to come early—" Felix pauses, eyes widening and gasping, "Hold up! Y/N is late. Whoa!"

"They are probably running towards the gym right now," Hyunjin says before picking up the call. He mouths to the rest, "It'll be short, I promise," and pouts. Chan sighs, only to smile and wave his hand at him to take the call.

"Y/N," Hyunjin cheers up instantly. "Where are—" He hears a choked sob from the other hand and Hyunjin stiffens, face losing the smiling in a second. "Are you alright?"

"I am," you strain it out. You barely manage through with the chokes and that pain that ripples through in waves but you eventually find the words to tell him, "I won't make it to practice today. Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

Hyunjin is angry and he doesn't even know who it is aimed at. He is just beyond mad at the fact that you are crying and someone made you cry. The thought of the skin by your eyes aching and eyes red and burning over anyone made him so angry that he could punch a wall through.

"I'm not telling you," he hears you say and he clenches his fist.

"Stop being a brat, Y/N," he stresses and Chan gestures at him, asking if there was something wrong. Hyunjin nods. "Where are you?"

"Leave me alone, Jinnie," you tell him through the phone, "Please," and his eyes widen before he calms himself down, realising that you are trying to cope all alone, a pathetic self-destructive quirk of yours that he had learned to live with after all these years. He gulps and realises you truly needed time alone and he hums in approval.

"Please reach out to me when you need me," he begs. "Please, Y/N."

Felix and Chan are staring at Hyunjin in worry when the door to the gymnasium opens and Jisung rushes into the room. He is panting and he looks around, searching for someone. Hyunjin turns away, his attention back on the call in his hands and he ends the call quickly, making a note in his mind to check up on you after practise. Not that you would let him miss practise. (Not that Hyunjin would do it to himself in the first place. He'd kill for volleyball.)

He walks towards the rest when Minho walks in, black duffel bag on his shoulder. Jisung is quick on his feet as he runs towards the other man, hands on his shoulders and he shakes the living hell out of him.

"He's gone crazy, dude," Felix mumbles and Chan laughs.

Hyunjin stays at a comfortable distance still, looking at his phone in worry every now and then. The man lifts his head and brings his attention back to the present only when he hears your name leave Jisung's mouth.

"Whoa, dude. You got back together with Y/N?"

"What?" Chan is the first to respond. "You did what?"

"I didn't get back together with her," Minho says, his voice is monotone and lacks anything more than nonchalance and it pisses the hell out of Hyunjin who has his fists still clenched tightly.

"I saw you kissing her but. . ." Jisung drops the bomb all at once in such a lost way that he doesn't realise the impact it was to have in this large gymnasium.

Hyunjin is charging forwards all at once, yelling, "You bastard," as he throws a punch at Minho. The blond dyed man is quick to put two and two together and realise that you are after all, crying because of the black haired man before him.

He pushes him back, Minho hitting the floor and Hyunjin's on top of him, punching him with his clenched fist, mind void and painted in hot red anger. Minho has his arms, blocking his punches and chooses to play on the defensive side.

In fear, we are all monsters. Hyunjin believes that he would be afraid of himself had he astral projected and looked at himself in this minute, all unhinged because of one girl — one girl he would set the world on fire for.

All that rage comes out faster than magma for Hyunjin and is just as destructive. More so because he's the captain. It consumes all that he is, so delicate under that carefully ordered world and carefully put up feign that he is alright with Minho breaking the heart of the girl he loves. Minho shrivels before him but Hyunjin does not stop. He relentlessly keeps going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with the words that he throws.

Chan tries to pull Hyunjin away as Jisung drags Minho from underneath him. The black haired man is left with bruises and a busted lip. On the other hand, Hyunjin is still fuming, along with Chan, sporting a few cuts from Minho who decided to throw a few punches in the last moment.

"Can you all stop?" Felix sighs.

"Why would you bastard make her cry again?" Hyunjin raises his voice. He's yelling at this point, loud enough for everyone passing by the gymnasium to hear. "Why the fuck would you make Y/N cry again? I told you to leave her alone!"

"This wouldn't have happened if things went different—" Hyunjin tries to rush forward to hit him again upon hearing his words, but Chan and Changbin, another teammate, have a strong grip on him. His blond ponytail lashes in anger and he fights against the two, trying to let go of himself. Minho yells back, "I would have never broken up with her if you never liked her, Hyunjin."

"What?" He stops still in his tracks, limbs falling and Chan lets go.

"How am I supposed to think it's alright for you to randomly stare at my girlfriend with heart eyes? For fuck's sake, you guys hug way more than I hug her," Minho glares, chest rising up as he vents everything he has bottled up so far. "If you had always liked her, you should have told me! I shouldn't have overheard it from Chan telling you to ask her out." Chan's face pales visibly. "I would have tried making her stay. I would have made her stay. I would have," Minho's voice lowers. "I still did, but I was too late."

Hyunjin has no words to refute. His eyes widen and his heart is in his throat, barely being able to say, "You could have taken it out on me. Why would you drag her into this? She loved you. She still wavers because of you. Your faithless love was the only hoax she was forced to believe."

Jisung pouts in awe at the words Hyunjin spills and Minho mumbles, "I don't know. I couldn't think straight."

Felix drops the ball with force, suddenly. The ball squelches before raising high and hitting the wall with impact. He folds his arms and speaks up, "Stop acting like kids." He points at Minho. "You, stop putting the blame of your failed relationship on Hyunjin. Him liking Y/N did not ruin your relationship. You killed it yourself."

"But he—"

"I liked her even before you made a move on her. Nothing has changed, Minho," Hyunjin inhales sharply.

"It's because you're a coward, you arsehole."

Hyunjin closes his eyes, looking away, mumbling, "Not going to even bother denying that. I'd be dating her if I wasn't this scared of losing her."

Felix proceeds to point at Hyunjin, glaring sharply at him, "You call yourself a captain? We have a match in a few days and you decide to lose control and beat up your teammate? One of the best middle blockers out there! What in the world are you thinking, Hyunjin? Jesus Christ, when Y/N hears of this, she's going to beat you up so bad for doing this to him in the name of the team."

Hyunjin doesn't dare to look up at Felix, shuffling the balance of his body from one feet to another. He is embarrassed. He should have never let his emotions take control of his body and yet he did.

Chan walks towards Felix before announcing, "We'll start practice in five. I want the two of you to sort this out by the end of this day. If you haven't, I don't want either of you coming to practice tomorrow."

"I'm the setter!" Hyunjin protests.

"Jeongin can do a darn good job too, so shut up and listen to me well."

"Now," Felix claps his hand, smiling once again brightly before running to pick up the ball. "Let's practice like the perfect team we are!"

"And like I couldn't stop myself. It's like something dragged me to move forward and the next thing I knew, I was on top of Minho—"

"Fuck, that'd be hot."

"Y/N, focus. And like I was beating the crap out of him."

You dab an alcoholic swab over the small wounds on his face as he seethes in pain and you sneer, "Deserved it."

"Ouch," Hyunjin fakes offense. "Side with me at least now. You aren't dating him anymore." You stop, your hand midair and you dab constantly over his wounds till Hyunjins screaming, "Ow, ow, ow. I'm sorry," and holds your wrist and pulls it away.

"But you messed up your team dynamics just because of your anger," you frown. "You and Minho better sort it out quickly, Jinnie. Else, I swear to God." You glare at him.

"What will you do?" Hyunjin laughs, scrunching his nose and teasing you. You place the bandaids over the wounds and raise an eyebrow. Hyunjin prompts, "Bite me?"

"I will," you warn and Hyunjin scoffs, "As if."

You bite him. His shoulder, to be exact. Your teeth hold onto his socket for a good one minute tightly till he is yelping, hitting your back to let go of him as he hisses in pain. You let go of him and narrow your eyes at him. Hyunjin is shocked. So shocked that he blankly stares at you with his mouth wide open.

"Are you a dog?"

"I could be one if you taunt me too much."

"Wow," he blinks and you poke the insides of your cheek with your tongue. "Wow, you're truly one of a kind." And Hyunjin breaks down laughing, holding his shoulder with his hand and bending forward overcome by intense laughter.

"Buy me mint choco," he prompts. "Because now you injured me and I want compensation."

"Excuse me?"

Hyunjin pushes himself forward, edging closer to you, looking you in your eyes before saying, "You know you have to," in a low guttural tone that your heart does a whole somersault, triple axle and then lands with an ovation. "You hurt me."

You push him away and you leap onto your feet, your eyes wide and your hand over your chest. Hyunjin looks at you with a raised eyebrow. To change the mood of the situation, you quickly announce, "Fine. You'll get mint chocolate only if you get ready and come out in five minutes. Else you pay for it on your own."

Hyunjin stands up and holding your wrist, he pulls you with him to the door. You look at him in utter confusion and ask, "What are you doing?"

Hyunjin stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, blond strands leaving his ponytail to cover his eyes slightly and pink lips so plump that you wonder how they feel. The realisation that you have started viewing your best friend as someone more than just that hits you and you look down instantly. When did this happen?

"I'll just wear a coat and so should you," Hyunjin laughs. "Ice cream can't wait."

People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth more often than not, but when Hyunjin laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh is in his eyes, in the way his face changes into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. And yet, in all honesty, it is not in his face either. His laugh comes from within, it is just the way he is wired with the instant ability to comfort someone. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport you far away from all your worries and the tension your life has in the minute.

Enough to make you forget that you have to tell him today about the decision you have taken.

Hyunjin and you walk down the stairs and off onto the road in five minutes as planned. The cool air of the night hits you and you hold yourself closer, the long coat held tightly to your body surface. Hyunjin laughs before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close by just a little bit and yet enough to share his body warmth.

"Mint choco, here we come!" And he runs with you.

The thing with your stupid heart is that you don't understand why it is beating so rapidly in this moment, your heart beat easily jumping to more than 95bpm and all because Hyunjin holds you. You look at the man by your side, his blond hair moving with the air, exposing his face and you wonder — had Hwang Hyunjin always been this beautiful?

You have known Hyunjin for a long time now. Too long for you to realise that your heart had a change in its plans for emotions recently. You have known Hyunjin way too long to know that you want him for a lifetime by your side, as a best friend at the very least and the thought that if you did act upon your new emotions that you have just discovered in this cold, breezy night, you are screwed.

Hyunjin turns to look back at you after hearing absolutely no sound from you. His face pales when he realises you are looking far ahead and he wonders if you do remember now. If you remember the drunk night.

So he asks to put himself at ease, "Y/N?"

"Huh?" You jolt up to consciousness, looking properly at Hyunjin. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember the night a few days back?"

"Night? Few days back?" You ponder. "When I was drunk?"

"Yeah," Hyunjin mumbles and you raise your body in anticipation, finally wanting to ask about the magical teleportation.

"Now that we are on this topic," you fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at your best friend. Hyunjin shuffles his balance from his left to his right. "Did you carry me to bed that night?"

Hyunjin chokes on air, sputtering out incoherent words before finally forming one proper sentence, "You knew?"

"You're the only other person I live with and I don't have any recollection of going to bed so like I presumed," you look down, heat rising to your cheek and you fidget with your fingers. "That you carried me to bed."

"That's all that you remember?"

You lift your head up, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, "Is there more?"

"Uh," Hyunjin turns back to face forward, his broad back in your vision again as he walks forward to the ice cream parlour by the junction.

"Hyunjin?" He walks quicker. "Yah! Hwang Hyunjin!" You follow him with quick, short strides, almost jogging up to him. "What did I do, Jinnie?" He opens the glass door to the ice cream parlour. "Yah, Hwang Hyunjin, tell me no matter how embarrassing it is." You follow him into the white aesthetically pretty place.

You finally catch hold of his coat and tug at it. Hyunjin turns, his cheeks flushed and you wonder what in the world happened that night. Yes, you have vague memories of hugging Hyunjin and passing out, but for him to act like this — wait, you didn't empty your stomach out on him, did you?

"Did I—" Hyunjin's eyes widens. He turns back, his attention on the man behind the counter and he points towards you.

"She's paying."

"Okay," the man nods and turns to look at you, waiting for your order. You sigh, glaring at your best friend before ordering one quantity of mint chocolate ice cream. Your eyes waver to the green ice cream and you frown in displeasure, something Hyunjin catches sight of your expression.

"How dare you?" He folds his arms, dramatically. "The only people that matter in this world are the one that like mint chocolate." The man at the counter smiles at the two of you.

You open your mouth, clicking your tongue, "I'm not paying money to eat toothpaste."

The man behind the counter laughs out loud and Hyunjin glares at him, scoffing. He takes the ice cream from his hand and waits for you to pay. The tall man looks at the two of you, again, before finally telling, "Good luck on your relationship. It's always fun to see couples have an argument over mint chocolate and still be so in love with each other." He turns to look at Hyunjin only, "For your information, I like mint chocolate."

Both Hyunjin and you look at each other, either of you waiting for the other person to disagree with the man but there is just silence. You can feel Hyunjin looking at you through the corners, waiting for you to refute like you always do. You don't and you do not even know why. The heat builds up beneath the apples of your cheek and the thought of being in a relationship with your best friend strangely brings about a wave of calmness within you, doing its best to shove the uncertainty of so many things away.

"Thank you for the ice cream," you say and walk to an empty table. Hyunjin thanks the man too, and follows you, sitting on the seat opposite to you and places the mint chocolate in between.

He watches you, unsure of the situation and you bite your lower lip nervously before shoving the cup closer to him and mumbling, "Eat. We came all the way here for you."

"You should have gotten another ice cream," Hyunjin frowns.

"It's past nine," you laugh, your hair falling over the chair as you lean back. "I can't let fat into my body after nine. You know that."

"Why do I know you?" Hyunjin puts his hand on his forehead looking at you and then he pushes the cup of ice cream towards your side. "Disappointment." You look at your best friend, disgusted and he won't take the disrespect though.

"It's a refreshing taste," he digs in and takes a big bite. "Plus, it's the right balance." He lifts the spoon with a small amount of the mint ice cream and shoves it right in front of your face. "The perfect amount of mint, chocolate and milk to make the world's most perfect ice cream."

You push his hand away and glare, "Why would you ruin two beautiful sweets," you raise an eyebrow, "Chocolate and ice cream by including," you fake a gag, "Mint?"

"Because mint balances the sweetness of the chocolate," he scoffs. "All you mediocre people won't understand. Mint chocolate was created for the elite class."

"Did you just call me mediocre?" your jaw drops and Hyunjin laughs. It's soft, airy and so carefree that you don't mind the fact that he is laughing at you and not with you. You don't mind one bit when you break down and laugh with him, unable to keep your face straight as you lean forward on the table, your head resting on your hands and you watch Hyunjin.

You decide to tell him of your decision in this minute.

"I'm going to make Seungmin manage the team," you tell Hyunjin and he stares at you, the spoon dropping from his hand and clattering against the glass rim of the ice cream cup. You continue, "He's always wanted to manage the volleyball team and I thought I should let him—"

"Why?" He sounds hurt. Disappointed, in fact and your heart plummets down.

"I thought it's time to move on."

"From the team or Minho?"

"Minho," you say, nibbling on your lower teeth. "I want to go back to him—"

"What?" Hyunjin feels his heart sink.

"Don't cut me off, hoe," you click your tongue. "I want to go back to him and be his friend. I'm not ready to ruin a friendship over this. I just won't."

Hyunjin looks down at his cup of ice cream. His spoon digs into the cold dessert over and over again till he realises that he'll do what he has always done for you — be right by your side as your pillar.

"Feed me," Hyunjin prompts and you stare at him with a void expression, mouth still open, wondering if he suggested this only and only to change the topic. Hyunjin stretches his arm out to shut your mouth. "People are going to think I'm starving you here."

"Whoa." You lift your head up. "And if I do that, people are going to think we're possibly the cutest couple out there still in our glorious honeymoon phase of it."

"Okay," Hyunjin shrugs and leans back against the chair, folding his arms against each other.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with that."

You sit up straight and look down before finally saying, "Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Those words that make my heart flutter. I don't know what to feel, Hyunjin." Hyunjin is too stunned to react and whine over the fact that you called him properly by his name in your conversation. The fact that he too can cause your heart to race a little bit just like you have with his all these years. "Don't say them to me if you won't ever be ready to take responsibility over them."

You place your thumb and forefinger on your forehead, squeezing the skin slightly to calm the slight ache you can feel, the vein throbbing slightly and you know it is your anxiety that kicks in because you almost spilled everything out. You quickly stand up and holding your coat tightly, you look at Hyunjin who is still seated and looking at you intently.

"I need to go to the pharmacy next door. I'll wait for you there. Finish your ice cream and come."

You don't turn to look at Hyunjin as you walk out, slightly embarrassed by your own behaviour. Between you and Hyunjin, you are the one who had to keep your cool, making sure you didn't slip up or make a mess so that you could at least have time to clean his spilt milk.

You push the door of the ice cream parlour and walk out, the doorbell ringing at your push and you hold yourself in the cold breeze. If Hyunjin did not respond to it, it is only safe to presume that he feels nothing more towards you. You could at least put two and two together. Or so you thought till Hyunjin is chasing after you, big strides and dark blond hair in the wind as his rubber band comes loose and slides off a bit.

"Y/N!" He shouts and quickly holds your wrist, pulling you so quickly that you stumble forward into him. Hyunjin grips your arms to steady you and he looks at you, his brown eyes trying to peep into your soul. He smiles, hand running through his hair only to bring more strands forward, covering his vision.

Falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin, you realise, is the easy part. He makes it so easy to fall for him — when he smiles at the sun, covering his eyes or when he is covered by the dogs in dog parks all eager to hug him because that's how he just is. You don't even realise when you fall for Hyunjin but when you do, you know you are already sinking and you are far too gone for saving.

It is, however, admitting to yourself that you fell for your best friend that is hard. The Hwang Hyunjin that you have seen since the five year old boy moved next door to you. The Hwang Hyunjin that would cross dress in your clothes. The Hwang Hyunjin that would steal your dumplings. It is the same Hwang Hyunjin that you fall for. You had all these doors with specifications that opened to only men like Lee Minho and yet like the rude asshole that you oh so adorably love he seemed to tear them down. Or perhaps those doors were meant for others and Hyunjin always had a door of his own for your heart.

You should have asked yourself why but would it have really mattered? You're here with Hyunjin by your side, whether he knows your feelings or not and you couldn't be any less glad, even if you are sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing Hyunjin right there.

"I'll come back, Jinnie," you tell him, looking up at him and coughing slightly, trying to move back slightly to put some space between the two of you. "I'm not running away. I just need to buy some strips of paraceta—"

"I want to be responsible for them," His gaze doesn't leave yours. "I want to be responsible for you, your emotions and everything you are, if you let me."

You wouldn't dare to shift your eyes away, or focus on anything else. Just Hyunjin. Just your Hyunjin. Your heart beats so fast against your chest that you wonder if it ever had this much for any man or woman. And when Hyunjin pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your frame, hand flat against your head that buries your face into his chest, you learn that Hwang Hyunjin's heartbeat is always your metronome — the beat your entire life seemed to have moved smoothly to.

You giggle against his chest, breaking into a smile, "Are you asking me out, Jinnie?"

"I guess," he chuckles into your hair, snuggling himself into you. He pulls you back to explain. "My original plan was to ask you out after the practice match that I'll make sure we win, but you could possibly not be there as our manager and what if I miss the chance?"

"You lovesick boy," you laugh, smiling stupidly at him. Hyunjin cups your face and presses his forehead against yours.

"I've liked you for so long, Y/N," and you blush, lips pursed and you smile back, heart fluttering.

"Thank you," you press a kiss against his cheek.

"For what?"

"For being you and for always loving me."

Hwang Hyunjin holds your face and kisses like he is capable of getting rid of all your worries, slowly bleeding into your marrows and cells and soaking you of the very essence he is. He holds you like you are a precious being — and to him, you are because he finally has you after all these years; he finally gets to call you his.

His lips are warm and tasted of mint; obviously from the mint chocolate ice cream earlier. His hands are wrapped around your waist and yours are locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. His strands of blond locks brush against your face, ticking you slightly and you giggle into the kiss. He laughs against your lips before kissing you slowly, drawing the kiss for as long as he could. When you break apart for air, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his, gathering some much needed oxygen. His smile tells you everything you need confirmation over and you smile back, sinking into his hold.

Hyunjin hugs with gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; yet it is the hug of a strong pair of arms that tells everything that you are - every fibre of your being - that he is with you, and you wonder how he is capable of that. How he is capable of holding like you are his whole world — like he rather hold you than anything else.

Hyunjin does exactly that. He holds you tight and close to him in this cold night, ignorant of everything else around the two of you, like you and him only mattered in the place, like you and him are fireworks in this velvet dark, the blaze that dares to light up the night.

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popentertainment-interviews · 2 years

Photo

Andy Samberg, Selena Gomez, Keegan-Michael Key, Fran Drescher & David Spade

Living in Transformania

by Jay S. Jacobs

It’s checkout time at Hotel Transylvania.

Ten years and four films into the popular animated series of films, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania will tell the final chapter of the resort that is run and visited by monsters and ghouls.

Of course change is in the air – and not just because the voice of the main character of Drac is no longer played by Adam Sandler in this chapter, instead taken on by YouTube phenomenon Brian Hull. In Transformania, the staff and guests of the place are affected by a laser which turns humans into monsters and monsters into humans.

About a month before Hotel Transylvania: Transformania was to be released exclusively on Amazon Prime, we were able to take part in a virtual press conference with stars Andy Samberg, Selena Gomez, Keegan-Michael Key, Fran Drescher and David Spade. Here is what they had to say about the fourth (and apparently last) film in the Hotel Transylvania series.

I love that this film really flips the script on a lot of fan favorite characters. How much were you all aware of what the new character designs would look like and what were your reactions?

Andy Samberg: I love the new design. Johnny becomes monsterficationIzed. I believe that's the correct word. He goes basically full birdy man backpacker meets Godzilla, which I think is something I dreamed about looking like as a child, anyhow. So, it was a dream come true for me.

David Spade: I play Griffin the invisible man, who is a bit of a scene stealer. I was a bit surprised because they put out some pictures of Griffin and I guess it wasn't what people thought. They wanted Griffin to be better looking like Bradley Cooper or something. I'm like, “Griffin's like this goofy dingdong that hangs out with the monsters. A little out of shape. Red hair.” They were looking for more of a Prince Harry or something. But I think it's funnier that Griffin looks funnier. It's for kids and families and I think cartoons should be funny looking. So, I'm 100% into my Griffin.

Keegan-Michael Key: I was surprised. I expected Murray to be bigger. To me it was like one revolution of wraps. I thought it'd be really this big kind of fat, corpulent guy. Then when all the wraps come off, and you see that first of all, he was super short, but he's really working the jowls. That was my favorite thing. Just got jowls for days. I like that. Yeah, it's really great because it helps inform you as to what you're going to what you want to do vocally, then.

Selena and Fran, you've brought these characters to life for nearly 10 years, and they're wonderful outsiders. What advice do you have for those who in real life are struggling to fit in?

Selena Gomez: Oh, man, that's a loaded question. Because I could give you the “believe in yourself” kind of answer. But I think it's a challenge, right? Every day you wake up. Sometimes you can't sit there and make a choice. Sometimes, you do feel those feelings. I think it's important to take moments and breaks from social media personally. It's just nice to be present and be with yourself for a bit. It doesn't mean that you need to have a lot of friends and a lot of people around you to be cool, because like, I have four friends and I think we're the coolest. We're definitely not.

Andy Samberg: Drac’s pack. We're back. We're back. Yeah. Yeah. (Everyone laughs.)

Fran Drescher: I think the most attractive thing you can be is yourself, and not give in to peer pressure. Not feel like you have to be like anybody else. Or you have to twist yourself into a pretzel because you think that's what somebody else expects you to be. Every single day, the more you practice self-confidence and loving exactly who you are and doing exactly what makes your heart sing and nothing else, then you're on the right path to living a really successful life. Successful in the sense of being happy both inside. Making kindness and compassion your compass is also something that brings value to your life and to those you touch.

David Spade: I've been doing it wrong. (Everyone laughs.)

Andy, what are the challenges in trying to bring comedic timing to an animated role?

Andy Samberg: I love talking about the craft. It's not particularly challenging. We're on the fourth one here. Not to deflect, but you've seen the style of animation they do, which in my opinion, is one of the greatest things about these movies. It's so fun and exaggerated. Obviously, kids love it. When I watch it, it makes me giggle just seeing the expressions and the gesticulations they give all the characters. So, this time around doing the recording, you pretty much know they want you to go huge and insane. Then they are going to push that even further with the way they animate it, which is very freeing. You know that you're not going to get like, “Whoa, buddy, come on. That's too much. Too much.”

Fran Drescher: (laughs) Never too much.

David Spade: Never bring it down.

Selena, we have loved watching Mavis grow and mature over the last three films. What can fans expect from her this time around?

Selena Gomez: It's been such a pleasure playing this character and also growing up. Because it was so long ago that [the series started]. I was in a different phase of my life. It's actually wonderful to be able to grow with this character. She's definitely just tough and she's not always demanded to be as big. She's just always worrying, and that matches my personality really well. (laughs) I just want things to run smoothly. I actually understand what it's like to have differences between family members and things like that. It's nice that we're touching on such a real thing, but in such a crazy way. It's fun.

David, we're going to get a little deep here. I'm going to warn you this is the first time that your character Griffin has actually been seen. What do you think that symbolizes? In a movie like this it's all about transformation.

David Spade: Selena, what's the answer on this one? (They laugh.) First of all I would like to say I love that I got to do these four movies with all these people. It was such a fun time. I get so many nice comments from so many different, older and younger people about watching them together. It's been a blast. I just wanted to get that out there because it was a really cool thing to be a part of. Having Griffin be not seen was interesting the whole time. I'm just floating glasses. It was nice to be a full-on character that was relating to other people. I think that's going to be really fun for kids. It was a great hooky fourth idea, because then it's a switcheroo. Everyone gets different. It's just a fun visual thing. Like Andy was saying, when you see these jokes, you see them written on the page. Then when they add the animation to it, the jokes are like three times better, because there's a joke behind you, there's a joke over here. It just flushes it out so much that the movie turns into just more and more fun. It's just so clever when you see what they can do. It's really not us. We're adding one layer. Then what they do to it makes it even better. They just really know what they're doing. That's why these are so fun and [I’m] proud to be a part of.

Fran, you certainly found that the secret to good live action comedy through The Nanny. What do you think is the secret to good comedy and animation?

Fran Drescher: I think physical comedy is very important. We did quite a bit of it on The Nanny. In animation, it's absolutely imperative. You can do so much because it's such a make-believe world. You can contort characters in ways that they could never really do in real life. Even the best stunt person couldn't get away with some of the stuff that animated characters can do. That's a big through theme of doing an animated movie: how far can we physically take these characters to do funny and surprising things?

Keegan, you've lent your voice to a number of animated movies, including several on the way. What has been the most rewarding part of the voice-acting animation experience?

Keegan-Michael Key: The most rewarding part – to actually go back to what Andy was saying – is that concept of not having any limitations. Especially in these movies, like we were saying, the look of these characters is so exaggerated that anything that you would have been busted for on a live action movie, you don't have to worry about. It reminds me of being a kid. When you were a kid and you play with the other friends, your imagination went everywhere. There would be times you're out at the field and playing and screaming and all of that abandon. You get to channel that again as an adult when you're doing animated films. It's not only not frowned upon, it is encouraged. That's my favorite thing about working in this space.

Andy Samberg: I love Keegan that you and I both are like “we just like that no one gives us the note that we're being too big.”

Keegan-Michael Key: (laughs) Exactly. Exactly. That's the answer to the question for me and Andy. It like no one's ever going to tell you take it down a notch. That's like the best.

Andy Samberg: A real peek inside at our process.

It's been nearly 10 years since the first film was released. Did you ever think this franchise would last this long would and would lead to three sequels like it has?

Andy Samberg: No. But I'm really glad it did. I think the reason is because kids love them so much. That's the real bottom line with these movies, which makes it such an easy call. They're just so infused with joy and positivity. Everyone grew up loving these classic monsters, and it's a new spin on it. It's really fun for families. That's why it's endured.

Fran Drescher: What I like about this movie also is that it's really written funny. Parents really enjoy it as much as kids. Similarly, certain jokes may go right over the kids’ heads, but the parents get it and see the humor in it.

David Spade: It is a good mix.

Fran Drescher: It’s very positive. And look at the talent, the roles. Very serious comic actors.

David Spade: Sometimes I'm too funny in the thing and they have to really bring me back.

Keegan-Michael Key: I've heard that many times. I've been giving that as an example during my sessions. The other thing I think is interesting is the way that they portray the family dynamics, like how spouses and loved ones and girlfriends and everybody is working off of each other. Those dynamics are really well observed in the movies. I think they're really well observed.

Fran Drescher: And relatable, right?

Keegan-Michael Key: Super relatable. Yeah, Fran. That sense where an adult can be laughing at a hard joke with a hard punch line. Also at the same time, there's this sense of like, “Oh, my God, we do that. Me and my wife do that.” Yeah, it's super deliciously relatable.

From all indications, this will be the final Hotel Transylvania installment. What would you each say that you will miss most about this series?

Fran Drescher: I’ll miss Eunice. I love her. I love the way they drew her. I love her look. I love that she is a bit of a matriarch to the monsters. She gets wound up and screams a lot. But for the most part, she really cares about Mavis and her family and her husband too, Frank. So I will miss my character, Eunice.

Keegan-Michael Key: I'm going to miss the final products that we always see. The movies are really done on such a high level. It's the rhythm of the movies and the spirit behind them that really moves me. In a way I'm saying I'm going to miss seeing them because if indeed this is the last, I'm going to miss seeing the new one if a new one comes out because they're always really well done.

David Spade: I do like when they come out. That's a good point. We always did one and you're waiting for it to come out and see if it worked. It's nice to be a part of something that works. When it worked, it was fun. Then you're there already talking about another one, so it's fun. People are like “is there going to be another one?” You go, “Yeah, yeah, we're working on it. It's coming out soon.” Then that comes out and you see it you go, “Oh good, it's funny again.” Then there's like. “Oh, there's going to be another one.” To have it stop is a bummer but seeing the fourth one I'm glad they all were good quality. If that's where they have to stop that's where they have to stop.

Andy Samberg: I don’t like to admit that it's over. If we say it's done, we're just caving to Sony.

David Spade: Wrap-a-phobia.

Andy Samberg: I'll miss it all. It's been such a fun thing to do. I'll miss the swag bags. I’ll miss the junkets. I'll miss Selena.

Selena Gomez: I didn't enjoy working with Andy at all, actually.

Andy Samberg: Aww, burn.

David Spade: That's all she wants to add.

Selena Gomez: But I did want to answer the question. I remember I was really excited to meet Andy because I watched all of SNL [Saturday Night Live], watching David too, and everyone growing up. So I would have to say the first time being able to sit down with them, he made it so fun and easy. If anything he's helped me relax more in interviews and just feel a bit a little bit normal. He also had my back. I will never forget because they asked me like a dating question or something and I don't do those. Andy answered for me. It was nice.

Fran Drescher: Remember when we all went to the Toronto Film Festival?

Selena Gomez: That was so fun.

Fran Drescher: Thanks to Amazon for taking it on so everybody can watch it from home.

Andy Samberg: For the record, Fran said that this movie is as good as Spinal Tap.

Keegan-Michael Key: Yes, we heard it. We all heard that.

#Andy Samberg #Selena Gomez #Keegan-Michael Key #Fran Drescher #David Spade #2022 #Hotel Transylvania: Transformania #Jay S. Jacobs

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hellpark · 4 years

Text

GREGORY: My my, this sure is a popular question, isn’t it?

GREGORY: I can’t see why any of you would be taking interest in that traitorous rat, though.

GREGORY: Running the others off to safety while we were trying to deal with business.

GREGORY: It’s bad enough with all of the ruckus he causes on a daily basis in Hell, now he’s choosing to do it on the overworld as well.

ESTELLA: Are you talking about Tweek, over there?

ESTELLA: That scraggly, disease-ridden manchild will surely get what is coming to him.

ESTELLA: I hope he enjoys the strain of problems he’s created for us.

GREGORY: There are people asking about him, can you believe it?

GREGORY: They-- ohoh, this is actually quite funny.

GREGORY: They think he’s from the land of the living, how charming.

ESTELLA: Heavens, that problematic boil on the under-fold of a old man’s neck wouldn’t stand a chance up here on earth.

GREGORY: Right?

GREGORY: Anyway-- to answer all of your questions...

GREGORY: He’s always been in Hell, right to his very upbringing.

GREGORY: He was hellborn, several years before the new era of Hell.

GREGORY: About ten or even years before I died, making him... eighteen or nineteen now, I believe?

GREGORY: All I recall is that his birthday is on Halloween.

GREGORY: Funny enough, Hell uses the same time system as earth does.

GREGORY: Though rather than two thousand... someodd... I don’t quite remember the year up here anymore-- it’s year ten of Era 2.

GREGORY: Sounds ridiculous, right?

GREGORY: Ahahah...

GREGORY: Anyways, where was I?

GREGORY: Oh, yes.

GREGORY: Tweek, unlike the rest of us, has never been to earth until now.

I remember running into him the first time, shortly after my death.

I believe when I first met him, I thought he was just some stupid kid who died too early to know what like was like on the surface.

He would be found headbutting rocks, gave me a strange look when I approached him, and would speak in a strange tongue I couldn’t understand at first.

Of course, I wouldn’t know what to say in response to something I did not know.

I’ve known a handful of languages from a young age, but his was unlike anything I’ve ever heard until I arrived in Hell.

At first I figured, maybe this was some language from a lost civilization, hundreds of years in the past? Perhaps age doesn’t work in Hell like it does in the land of the living?

This would be incorrect.

If I recall, I attempted to talk to him in my own language-- English, of course. I think I’d felt it too rude to try and leave while he was trying to have a conversation with me.

GREGORY: I can’t quite understand you...

GREGORY: Are you able to understand me?

TWEEK: ...

GREGORY: ...I’ll take your silence as a no.

GREGORY: I wonder where you’re from...

GREGORY: I’ve never heard such a language before.

I would try to seemingly no avail, so I felt my inclination to be true. For a few moments, that is.

Looking back on this all, it’s a rather funny instance, though at the time I was utterly terrified when this next bit occurred--

I’d been so used to demons and ghouls and all sorts of hellish beings flying about in the skies, I hadn’t stopped to notice two individuals soaring my way from behind Tweek.

They would land to see me, surrounding him on either side. I remember this image very clearly in my head...

...because as a little kid, seeing two full grown adults, with a wingspan larger than myself at the time...

My lord, I was scared senseless.

They would look down at me, smiles on their faces. I figured them crazed, it didn’t look like they knew quite how to smile at first.

I expected them to speak the same language as the kid I had been talking to, considering how close and personal they seemed to be with him.

They addressed to me in full English that I had been talking to their son, though-- something I find rather interesting now, considering they would have had no idea exactly what language I would have spoken.

I suppose that’s a mystery I’ll solve another day.

MR. TWEAK: Hello!

MR. TWEAK: Can we help you?

MR. TWEAK: I see you’ve met our son!

MRS. TWEAK: He doesn’t get out much, you’re the first saved soul he’s ever seen...

They had a peculiar accent. I wouldn’t have been to describe it at the time, but now I can say with clear conscious that it is just one of many Hellish accents you’d find in Hell.

An accent from one who would have grown up speaking a specifically satanic language-- one that would commonly be known to English-speaking Hellspawn as, simply, demonic tongue or hellspeak. Myself fancying the latter.

They had seemed rather keen on being overly nice to me, where as most looks I’d gotten from those I’d later find out to be hellborn as well would be looks of disdain.

I had arrived in Hell a year after the previous ruler Satan had died and went to heaven, and merely months into a new era-- in which none would be damned to eternal torture.

I’d like to say I was lucky for dying at the time I did-- but I wasn’t.

I was just luckier than those who had died before this new era was enacted.

They were almost more threatening than the ones who would give me such wretched looks. They were almost trying too hard to be nice.

I could recognize their efforts though, however terrified I was at the time.

In turn, they could recognize my fear. So his mother would attempt to console me, something else I’ve never forgotten.

MRS. TWEAK: My my, dear...

MRS. TWEAK: You’re so brave...

MRS. TWEAK: There aren’t many souls who seem as sudden as yours who would care to talk to someone like our son...

GREGORY: ...

MRS. TWEAK: You seem scared and lost... and alone.

MRS. TWEAK: Do you have any known family down here?

GREGORY: ...I don’t... really know...?

MRS. TWEAK: That’s quite a shame...

MRS. TWEAK: I hope you can find them some day.

MRS. TWEAK: For now, though... as a mother, and an imp...

MRS. TWEAK: I’d love to welcome you to our home any time you feel like you need to get away from everything out here.

MRS. TWEAK: It’s hard in these times, I’m sure you could do with a friendly face or two.

She would tell me, without even knowing who I am, that I was welcome into her home.

I’ll admit I felt a little like a charity case in that moment, but she’d sensed I was all on my own at the time-- which I was.

Even though the torturing era of Hell was something I had missed, the four or five days I had spent alone, wandering hell to my own devices... everything I had experienced up until that point had been quite scary, to some degree.

I mean, I was still in Hell, what else would I have felt.

Her generosity and the father’s... attempt at a polite smile... had been the first somewhat comforting things I had felt since I had died.

His mother would then try to promote to me: Tweek, a potential friend.

MRS. TWEAK: Darling, were you talking to his young man?

MRS. TWEAK: Would you like to make friends with him?

MRS. TWEAK: Now now, dear, not so rude.

MRS. TWEAK: You know this language.

MRS. TWEAK: I know, you’re nervous...

MRS. TWEAK: This man is a nice fellow, though, I think he and you would make terrific friends...

She would reveal to me that he could in fact speak English, and really he was too shy to speak outside of his native tongue.

He didn’t quite look like somebody I would want to be friends with at the time, but with how nice his mother was and how lonely I felt, I was... reluctantly intrigued, to say the least.

However I remember finding his name quite silly-- it’s not even a common theme in Hell. His father’s name is Richard, goodness sake. They really had to regards when naming him, it seems.

TWEEK: Um...

MRS. TWEAK: Tell him your name, dear.

TWEEK: Tweek.

MRS. TWEAK: Tweek what?

TWEEK: My name is Tweek.

MRS. TWEAK: Good job!

MRS. TWEAK: Why don’t you try speaking to your new friend in a way you can both understand?

TWEEK: O-oh, um...

TWEEK: I-- I wanna poke your eyes out with my pitchfork, ugly.

GREGORY: ...

MRS. TWEAK: Ohohoh-- He doesn’t mean that. I promise you.

MRS. TWEAK: It’s the way of the old era, so please don’t mind him.

MRS. TWEAK: Tweek, why don’t you try being nice?

MRS. TWEAK: We’ve been practicing this, right?

TWEEK: When I grow up, and get my own torture chamber, I’ll let you be the first in it.

GREGORY: ...Nice to meet you too...?

GREGORY: My name is Gregory???

Tweek wasn’t very good at being nice when he was young. I disliked him, for a time, but put up with him because his mother was so nice.

However I learned it really just was the way he was raised. If you grow up in a world where your sole purpose is to trick and torture others, why wouldn’t you be taught to be so devilish?

He took a while to unlearn his habits, and he still has some issues now and then. On the other end, I’ve learned to understand him better.

Of course, my understanding of him right now is that he’d rather betray our entire friend group by running off with a bunch of humans than to stick with us-- people he knows.

It’s beyond ridiculous, offensive, and hurtful. I don’t know what his motives are in this instance, but he’s to have a good reason for all of this if he expects me to forgive him.

As for this question, I hope this quelled your curious minds once more. Tweek has always lived in hell, born and raised, and just barely over twenty four hours ago was his first breath of air on the surface.

I know I went on a bit of a rabbit trail, but I believe it paints a better picture of exactly why I’m friends with Tweek now.

I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if I had known him since he was even younger.

Would his parents have shown me the same hospitality?

Would he have been as rude? Would he have made me want to me more rude?

I wonder if he looked as stupid as all of the other implets running amok in hell when he was young...

Perhaps I’ll visit his parents soon and ask them just that-- maybe ask them for a young photo or two of him while I’m there.

I’m closer to them than I am him at this point, anyhow.

#south park #gregory of yardale #tweek tweak #imp tweek #estella havisham #hellpark #sorry for the long pause between updates!!!#I am in the middle of moving. The mods do a wonderfully timed job at drawing their pieces #I'm just slow to put them all together #thank you for continuing to enjoy this blog!

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mrsunderhill678 · 3 years

Text

I am a writing goddes, bow before my throne of prose and murder.

"I choose death before dishonor, and courage before cowardice, if I am to die on my knees, my teeth will be bared and bloody, laughing at the world for such an attempt at my life.” - Avarell Boneson

“Perhaps I am a wolf, but that does not make me bad in nature, cruel at heart. It means I am willing to fight with my teeth bared and my claws covered in the crimson regret of bad men who fucked with the wrong bitch.” - Avarell Boneson

“I have so much to lose, and so I fight. I bleed. I carry on.” - Avarell Boneson

“I am cold steel and wildfire smoke, I am justice and red hot rage, I am the end of those who wrong me. Stand before me, pray, sell me an empty promise, I assure you, no lie, no man, no beast, can stand in my way.” - Avarell Boneson

“I am a culmination of every girl I ever was, from the little girl scared of the shadows to the woman who now stalks them.” - Avarell Boneson

“Blood for blood spilled is a simple rule, thus is karma's reign.” - Avarell Boneson

“Say a prayer for a damned man and you'll realize you are one.” - Jeremiah Smithen

“I'm in need of a hangin', but they'll need a thick rope to hang the man of a thousand heavy lies.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“I spose I was born for the gallows, might my shadow cheer as I swing? Bring me ta my knees, let me look 'pon the crowd 'a those I love so they know I'm payin' for my mistakes, and rightfully so. I'm tryin' ta be a better man, but the shadow of this hangman's noose lies cold on my soul, and it's a shiver a damned man can't shake.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“I can't take these names off these graves, cuz I was the one that carved em. I'm the one that hung them good men from them trees. They lie three feet off the ground, gaspin' for air that just don't come. Are these men I killed reflections 'a my future?” - Jeremiah Smithens

“Spose my brother made a deal with the devil, 'spose he sold my soul to compensate for the soul he din'it have.” - Jeremiah Smithens

“A century long blood debt lies heavy on my shoulders.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“His blood runs through mine, so I spose either way you put it, his blood spills.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“All I've got is the heart in my chest, but I've learned my heart is a never ending void of condemnable sorrow. This sorrow I feel is what'll kill me, in the end. Cause it's this sorrow that drives my vengeance.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“Either he will bleed for all he's done, or I'll bleed for all he's done.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“I walk in the shadow of kings and queens lost ta time. I am every man he ever killed, every women he broke, and every drop of blood he spilled. I 'spose I'm vengeance, and if it kills me, so be it. I ain't much livin', anyhow. Cause livin' for death ain't no life at all.” - Valentina Von Shepards

“I look to my future and whisper, "Spare me." I crawl on my knees, begging for this future of mine to show mercy, but all it ever says is, "You're only human, so die like one." But living was never about death, even if death is an important place to visit while still breathing. Life is about so much more than the end of it, I've learned. It's about love, the sacrifices you're willing to make, and your care for the people who've built you up over the years.” - Albert Spurs

“I've seen power corrupt men and drag them screaming down a twisting path of bones they've yet to break. Power brings the out the worst in the best of men, it corrupts the good and creates evil. All power ever stole is humanity from the most human of men.” - Albert Spurs

“Time doesn't care about us, and I suppose I shouldn't care much for time.” - Albert Spurs

“We’re the smoke rising from the world’s fucking pyre. Up and up we go, burnin' through the atmosphere, challengin' the sun with our heat.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I stand in a world where the devil's below me and God's above me, either side challengin' me ta be better or worse.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I's seen blood debts play out in gunpowder regrets and charms, I's seen war's that left men broken or dead, but no one ever walked out the same. After all, war breaks men in ways humans never could, it ain't the man that gets ta ya, it ain't the gunfire neither, it's your own damn hands that break ya in the end.” - Craigsley Thorn

“Long 'go I said I'd be the very best, I'd be the most fearsome mother fuckah America'd ever laid eyes 'pon, but that old, beaten country stood me down in a draw fight and I got damn lost. I lie here with a bullet in my head, hangin' from my family tree, 'spose in the end I'm swingin' from the same rope as my father. Funny, how the corpse don't fall too far from the tree, huh?” - Craigsley Thorn

“I was the quickest draw, toughest mother fuckah this side 'a the West, but 'spose my regret draws quicker. He fills me with six round slings 'a lead, and reloads quicker than I can recover.” - Craigsley Thorn

“Came ta America for a new life, but I 'spose when ya step foot in damned land ya become a damned man.” - Craigsley Thorn

“I am no god, though I am cruel as he.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I suppose to a poor man, riches are poison they wish to choke on, I've learned there is a difference between a poor man's poison, and rich man's poison. I've choked on both and gotten used to these dualities.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“You forgot to wash yourself in the blood of the lamb, my friend, and now, I am washed in the blood of you.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“A man once asked me if I was God, and all I could really say is "Not quite yet, though if you mean God by the end of you, then yes, my friend, I am your extinction." - Cornelius Whitiker

“I have lived through every stage of life, I have been poor, homeless and broken, begging for release. I have been rich and mighty, helping those who had been like me, and now, I have succumbed to power, this rich man's poison tastes sweet on my lip. Like blood of a lamb on a wolf's maw it drips from my chin, a warning of more dangerous things to come, I suppose.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I wear this halo as if it meant a thing, all this halo is to the holy men who witness me is false hope, false salvation. Even angels sing along to my crimson song, this battered melody of blood set remedies.” - Cornelius Whitiker

“I am crazy they say, but if they knew that I am just like them, they would run for their lives.” - Rolf Lambs

“Easy now, the dog who barks often gets bit.” - Rolf Lambs

“I am mad, they say, barking away my life, chasing cars and headlights with no real meaning. But can't they see, my purpose is their end? My purpose is the madness you say has no reason. But I, am the rhythm, my friend, I am the melody of barks and bites, howls and the spilling of blood that follows the wooping war cries.” - Rolf Lambs

“My heart still beats and thus yours shall not.” - Rolf Lambs

“Look at this hall of hollow souls, look at us, slaves to reason. Slaves to desperation and methods to madness.” - Rolf Lambs

“What can a wild dog do when faced with heaven? Do we bark at God as he barked his commandments?” - Rolf Lambs

“They tell me I have paid the devil's price, that I shook his hand. But don't you see? He shook mine, he shook mine.” - Rolf Lambs

“I am a wild dog of these wastelands, ragged fur and bloodied teeth, broken claws and angry eyes that tell you my bite is worse than my bark, and my tongue is worse than my teeth, for it's the words that fall from it, that kill you whilst still breathing. See? I am just, like, you, so shalt you run from yourself?” - Rolf Lambs

“This show has just begun, and I refuse to draw the curtains until they who have wronged me are strung up by their necks and swing as the curtains finally close.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I'm a wayfaring stranger on this road of vengeance, it's always raining here, and I can hear the whispers of the damned in the downpour. Alas, I can hear my own voice, but I've miles to go before I get what I fucking deserve.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“Perhaps I'm a bad woman, perhaps I'm cruel, but only to those who damn well deserve it. I'd never fire my gun on they who never pulled the trigger, but I'd pull it on they who fired the bullet first.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“You can damn me, but I've already been to hell, I met evil in the form of a suit and tie, lies behind a pearly white smile. The devil never had a pitchfork, he never had wings, he looked just fucking like us. He wore the faces of those we loved, pulled their skin over his and wore who they used to be like a taut mask, but it never seemed right. Stitches pulled at their smiles, scars and blood stained them. We've all been caught by the devil once or twice, for he starts by digging his claws into our hearts, and convincing us our hearts had always been bleeding.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I'm not okay, lost in the tide of vengeance, but at least I have Amaryliss. Her hands are as bloody as mine, her heart as broken as mine, but at least I'm her's and she's mine.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“If only the specters could warn you of me, and yet, their cries remain silent. Howls into the abyss, never to be heard. Dead warnings lead to dead men, but who said the dead cannot live again?” - Atiogrim Crow

“Behold my dynasty of the dead, my kingdom of skeletons and ghouls, beasts that were once men. But I suppose when your heart stops beating, you become cold and heartless. And once you are heartless, you must find something to replace the soul you lost. Be it rage or anger, mercy or brutality, no heartless beast ever lived without a substitute.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I have shook hands with my darker side, and in turn, Arasill wrapped me in his cloak of shadows, he showed me that the stars blink out, and if you wish upon them, all you'll ever receive is a wolf's howl.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I suppose I am broken, but in a beautiful way. Dark in a way that isn't quite holy, but isn't perfectly sinful.” - Atiogrim Crow

“I down my pain as if it was the finest red wine, I can't separate the pleasure from the pain no more, or maybe I've just gone numb.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I try to be someone more than this broken girl, but the shadows have surrounded me, and claimed me their ruler. I never intended to spill blood, I never intended to be sinful and wicked, but here I am, downing my own pain as if it was red wine, and spilling other's pain from the glass.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“The devil is not beneath us, nor is God above us, he stands right in front of me, with his empty eyes and smile, his baseball cap and smoke floating around him like willow wisps in the fog. But these wisps never brought me an adventure, they were never there to show me my purpose. All they did was lead me to the deep end, drowning me in this red wine of pain I drink.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I am the blood-stained beast in Eden, yet the angel of flaming blade does not pay attention to my cries. He does not heed my mournful howls.” - Julia Vanderwitch

“I drag my feet 'cross holy ground, scaldin' my soles, yet all I do is trudge on. I'd say I'm a soldier, but this holy ground burns my feet. I hold this rifle in my hands like a cross, I call it my saving grace, but these days, faith won't save a damned man.” - Dolfin Holts

“I've fought for honor, for blood, for faith and men I cannot name. So why can't I fight for myself?” - Dolfin Holts

“I have saved lives by endin' others, tell me how that's fair. We're broken beasts, bending the fucking crop and watching the sheep scatter as we bare our teeth. But all we ever did was try to save them.” - Dolfin Holts

“Oh lord, let me find myself a river so I can wash these sins clean, but I am haunted by the ghost of my brother. His smile looms over mine, whispering again and again, "You did not save me." And it's true. All I could do was flee, and listen to his howls. Look at all this death I've caused. My brother rots, still walking this Earth, but nothing more than a waxy white beast, clawing at the living, envious of the fact that they may end their hunger. I look into the eyes of every dead man that ever lived, and I see his eyes. His brown eyes, full of love for his family, full of rage and joy, passion and addiction. I'd never seen brown eyes so beautiful. Until I held my baby brother in my arms. And those are the same eyes that looked at me with rage as I gripped my rifle, and fled as the dead swarmed the livin.” - Dolfin Holts

“Fear handed me a gun and said, "Soldier, keep marchin," and that's just what I did.” - Dolfin Holts

“I am no soldier, because this holy ground burns my feet, and these graves break my damn heart.” - Dolfin Holts

“It's strange, how the burden of being a good man lies on my shoulders. I've gunned men down in foreign countries with hardly the blink of my eyes. They had names, families, and yet, they say I'm a good man for putting them down.” - Kerry Hopwood

“I've learned that soldiers fight for what they see as right, and usually, it ain't what the world sees as right. We've all got our own definition of peace, of salvation. But most men just don't wanna be saved. They believe the sun will come before the rain, but any flower that grows comes after the rain.” - Kerry Hopwood

“We are gunfire and bravery, cowardice and courage, the fleeing mouse and the roaring lion. Because we can't be one thing, without experiencing the other.” - Kerry Hopwood

“We've got our chins held high and our guns held strong, so what do you do when faced with a good man? Do you join him in this war for peace? Or do you become the man that stands in his way? You may die either way, but it's better to die for a good cause, than to die because you opposed one.” - Kerry Hopwood

“I shook hands with a devil, and with my heart still beating he dragged it to Georgia and traded it for a golden fiddle.” - Bediah Boe

“I'm a circus act, lifting these weights no man can bare, that no man should, bare. Yet here I am, my strength turned to weakness. I am broken, battered, bloodied, laughing my way through the sorrow.” - Bediah Boe

“Look at this showman's smile, look at the blood on the clown's teeth. I am such a tragic creature. I've traded blows with the devil, and if this rage is the death of me, let it too be the death of him.” - Bediah Boe

“He says we are jesters and vagabonds, outcasts and broken souls. But ain't he the one that made us such? Behold, Borbasli's Siren Cove, the howls ain't the waves my friend, though he'll sell em as such. The wind whips at our backs and leaves us bloody, we all knew where the siren's song went. Yet still we followed. She brang us down ta her level below the sea floor, drownin' us while holdin' our cold hands.” - Bediah Boe

“I spose when faced with love in a world 'a hate, you stumble toward it despite the danger. Ain't no warnin' signs that could keep ya from the danger.” - Bediah Boe

“Redemption is for men with sorrowful tales ta tell, men with methods ta their madness. But here I am, with my Jack Daniels and moonshine, with a sorrowful tale ta tell, but no method ta my madness. For I am not it's orchestrator. He hides behind pearly smiles and beautiful lies, enchantin' he was, ugly in the heart, but just as a siren, beautiful in the voice.” - Bediah Boe

“If you saw the world through my eyes you would fear me.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“I've learned that the good man will always become enslaved by the bad one. You see, good men don't understand what it takes, to be... Good. Or to do good, rather. They spare the cruel and let the good die all for the sake of a bad man's life.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Revolution is a slow game of chess, full of Queen Gambit's and false Stalemates. I will sacrifice my pawns and watch as the brooks and knights swarm your castle, all because the king stood on the front lines!” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Change is a funny thing, it can be quick, or slow, but it never really feels like anything changes, does it? Only when you look back do you realize nothing's the same.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“We are ensnared by reason and purpose, guises of self and individualism, but in reality, we're no one! We're minds and souls, but not much else. I don't choose to define myself. One minute I could be the mad hatter, the next, I could be Alice, or the rabbit leading the way, warning you of the time passing by. But time dies slow, doesn't it?” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“Every Robin Hood who dared nock an arrow was killed before it ever flew through the air. All it takes for a revolution is a single arrow, so I wouldn't blame a mad king for banning use of the bow.” - Odeyis Bravacallo

“My life is reflected in the barrel of a gun, I suppose all it's ever been is an instrument of death.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Sticks and stones have broken my bones, words have left me bleeding, but I will build an empire from this pain, this grief, this bleeding heart. Not every kingdom is built through fear, I will rule through mercy and last longer than violence could ever hope to.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Keep your enemies close, and keep your allies in the dark, so that when the shadows come, they can become the light the kills the dark.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“Some days I'm a bad woman of sticks and stones, and words that kill. But most days, I'm just scared, turning my fear into courage.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“I have seen my life reflected in the barrel of my own gun, but I refuse to be an instrument of death for higher powers.” - Hellen Crimsonburn

“It ain't the greater good for all if a man has to die. What happened to his, greater good?” - Axel Whithers

“In this day and age, we sacrifice more than we give, and we kill more than we live.” - Axel Whithers

“We're out here, payin' the price for what we done, sadly, in this kill or be killed world, death is a collective punishment for the human race.” - Axel Whithers

“I suppose to a soldier, loyalty means sumthin' different. It means ya don't leave no one behind, even when a fellow soldier dies, we carry him in the arms 'a our memories.” - Axel Whithers

“We're soldiers, loyal ta a code 'a honor most men don't follow. Honor ain't found in the scourge, it ain't found in the dirt, or the mud. Honor is found in the men that faced the world and din'it let it change em.” - Axel Whithers

“I have seen how war kills men. All it has to do is give em a gun and enemies on the front line, firin' back.” - Axel Whithers

“This gun in my hand I once would'a called the devil, is my only savin' grace these days. It is an instrument 'a death as it is an instrument 's life, and I 'spose I too, represent this damned soldier's duality.” - Axel Whithers

“It's foolish, ta push against an immovable object, when you ain't an indestructible force.” - Milos Fellwitz

“No dead man ever came back for more, all 'cept for Gustave. He plays a dangerous game of three steps forward, five steps back, don't he know the more steps he takes back, the more likely it is he'll fall into his own fucking grave? Or worse, back pedal into those he loves, shovin' them inta their grave.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Hammer's up bitch, this town is damned because a damned man has stepped through it's got damn gates.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Stare me down, raise your fists and charge, but just know, every good men that ever lived, died. But look at the conquerors of history. Gengis Kahn, raiders of seas and England. It's the bad men who live on.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I'm rotten to the fucking core, my blood-stained grin is a threat, a promise and a warnin' ta all who stand in my way. So COME ON, send an army my way, I'll stand, fists raised, threatful grin flashed, ain't no one gon' live ta tell the tale 'a the immovable, indestructible force.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I am Milos, motherfucking, Fellwitz, the cruelty of history trembles as I grin, the brutality of this world quivers.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I'm the result of a merciless world, and you'll be the result of a merciless man.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Morality, it don't get ya nowhere, if it's death you're wishin' for, grab your morals and stick ta em.” - Kai Fell

“I trust my gut, and when that fucker tells me ta pull the trigger, I damn well listen.” - Kai Fell

“We're all cheats, liars and thieves, throwin' our morals away the moment we realize we're God damn mortal.” - Kai Fell

“I've learned that ta survive, I've ought ta trust my revolver sooner than a stranger.” - Kai Fell

“Somedays I'm a saint, other days I'm a sinner, but I'm a crook even with the most charmin' 'a smiles. Good men would swing me from the gallows if they realized I was a bad one. But it's easy to lure men into false senses of security.” - Kai Fell

“I've learned that ta survive, ya can't be good, cause the world ain't gon' be good ta you.” - Kai Fell

“Call me ill, call me sick, but there ain't no cure ta a loss 'a morals.” - Kai Fell

“I ain't nuthin' but a specter 'a flickerin' morals.” - Kai Fell

“I am who I need to be, and I've learned, who I am changes with the tickin' 'a the clock.” - Kai Fell

“I walk within the valley of death, the shadow overbearing, the only light to be found the flickering of my cigarette.” - Banks Cutthroat

“I'm a bad man, committing bad deeds under the false guise of world peace. But we can't attain peace through violence.” - Banks Cutthroat

“One warlord rises and a revolution charges, cut the head from the snake and you become the damn serpent.” - Banks Cutthroat

“The sun sits pretty on the sky, the birds sing, the light shines upon me, yet still, in all this beauty I am ugly.” - Banks Cutthroat

“In this world, damnation is the only salvation we deserve.” - Banks Cutthroat

“The Earth is no longer home, for Mother Nature weeps and weeps, leaving us in a shallow river of her tears. Blood red they are, I wonder if she mocks us for the blood we've spilled. Or does she grieve as any mother would?” - Banks Cutthroat

“All this violence is ugly, and man has no right to make it beautiful.” - Banks Cutthroat

“When heaven bares it's teeth, you learn to raise a lil' hell.” - Edmund Goodbread

“In heaven I met a damned man, with his empty eyes and scarred smile, some days I got'sa wonder, was 'e God or just a very crooked angel?” - Edmund Goodbread

“Livin' scares me, dyin' terrifies me, but there ain't never been no in-between. I have to live in a constant state 'a fear. Fear for existence, and horror for the end 'a it.” - Edmund Goodbread

“The boy I was is cinders, cause this vengeance is a reflection 'a the man who made it. I'm a lowlife tryin' ta get my head right, but I'm spinnin' in every which direction, shootin' point blank at every blurred shape.” - Edmund Goodbread

“I am parched, drinking from pools of my own blood. Alas, it brings me no satisfaction, but I am doomed to drink from a well that shall only ever bring me thirst.” - Murphy Joy

“The days get harder as time moves on, I suppose time knows how to move on better than I ever did. But how am I to move on from what I do not know?” - Murphy Joy

“I am in an eternal purgatory, fog wisps around me, concealing the beasts within the shadows and mist.” - Murphy Joy

“Look at me, all this stardust in my eyes, these long imploded pieces of the nebula.” - Murphy Joy

“These tears are not for what I have, or what I lost, but for what I had.” - Murphy Joy

“I am Murphy Joy, I tell myself over and over, but it sparks nothing in me. Murphy Joy, Murphy Joy, Murphy Joy, is that me or a man I stole?” - Murphy Joy

“I feel as if being me is a distant goal I can't reach. I strive to be myself, but whiskey regrets find me first.” - Bryan Jensen

“My past keeps me fractured, like barbed wire under my shirt it rips into me as I move, as I breathe, as I sit. I have held it for so long that it became a part of me, and now, I fear all I can ever do is bleed.” - Bryan Jensen

“My memory is a slate of broken emotions and raging fires, leaving me stranded and cold, yet surrounded by flame.” - Bryan Jensen

“I cannot accept peace when my whole life has been devoid of it. With all this pain, I fear peace. For in the quiet moments of the night my grief screams the loudest.” - Bryan Jensen

“These lullabies my scars sing are damning, wretched and ugly, they tell me, "Forget how to feel, Bryan, forget that you're real," and I do.” - Bryan Jensen

“I watch the world pass me by with a blank gaze, as if I am in a deadly haze.” - Bryan Jensen

“I spend more time sinnin' then I do grievin', these days. This providence 'a scars and memories have left me numb.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Life and death, same thing, really, I's learned both of em are cold, and neither of em are peace.” - Sampson O’Connel

“I am a blank slate 'a sin and misery, tryin' ta remember what the fuck it was like ta be human.” - Sampson O’Connel

“These days, trouble stalks me as a wolf would a rabbit, it snarls and barks, but I don't hear it til the bastard's two feet behind me. I's learned trouble comes, and sometimes, it just don't go.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Look at this life 'a mine and you'll learn there ain't no greener grass on the other side 'a the pasture, just remnants of a wildfire I set ta feel sumthin' other than the cold.” - Sampson O’Connel

“I swing this lasso and try ta catch sumthin' other than myself, but somehow, I always end up draggin' me in.” - Sampson O’Connel

“The devil's got debts ta pay with me, scores ta settle. He's put a price on my head, and shouted to the heavens, "Whosoever sends this man to me howlin', gets the price of a thousand lives." - Sampson O’Connel

“Listen ta the wind, and tell me, is that a thousand angels, a thousand damned souls howlin, or the hell hounds comin' for my hide? Cause these days, I just can't God damn tell.” - Sampson O’Connel

“Good men have suffered cause 'a me, 'spose the boy I was suffered too.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“I've made friends with all this rage, this greed, this hate, I go hand in hand with my vengeance, and these days, we leave death in our wake.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“This world is an eye for an eye, a brother for a brother, and blood for blood. Wolves stalk and rabbits cower, my ol' friend always said trouble comes, and sometimes it just don't go. And I, my friend, and the trouble that just don't go.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“Inside me is rage and love, anger and hate, passion and sorrow. I am a howl of everything I's ever been.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“My bootprints are bloodied in the snow, and whosoever dares follows in their wake will smell the smoke and flee. Cause only men with nuthin' but rage left can face the damn flame. The smoke blots my vision, the sky burnin' orange with the flames 'a my rage, and I spose all I can do is breathe it in.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“A woman once told me, that if your demons are silent, listen for your angels. But my demons howl, these days. They're in the wind and the fallin' 'a the trees. My angels could try ta find me, but they'd be food for the wolves and I'd find them bloodied before they ever reached me.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“My anger is a point blank rifle, leavin' messes and stains in the snow.” - Clayborne Pettygore

“We all lose our voice ev'ry now and then, forget that our strength ain't determined by how loud we can shout, but how softly we can speak when our anger dares swallow us whole.” - Milo Vadotil

“We're few, but our voices are many.” - Milo Vadotil

“Bein' a warrior ain't just bout fightin', it's bout lovin' what you fight for. In all my years I's learned that the greatest trait a warrior can have is compassion. It's kindness and mercy that wins the war, not bloodshed.” - Milo Vadotil

“Some men are handed destiny on a silver platter, and told that's all they can be, and men like me, men like Chance and Kobi, are given the scraps 'a destiny. Guess all we can do is lick it off our fingers and scrounge up the crumbs of our fate.” - Milo Vadotil

“I never saw fate as sumthin' set in stone, just a path 'a bread crumbs ta follow.” - Milo Vadotil

“If I could give a young man some words 'a advice that will always stand true, I'd tell him this. Cryin' is the strongest thing you'll ever do, bein' you is the bravest thing you'll ever do, and hidin' from yourself is the worst thing you can do for yourself and those around you.” - Milo Vadotil

“Man's best friend is compassion and strength built on love.” - Milo Vadotil

“Slip on my boots, try to trudge on and find, these boots are heavy for men who ain’t walked hell. But I ask, with boots so heavy, how is a man to take a single step?” - Damascus McNemanin

“My life passes me by cause I just don't God damn move on.” - Damascus McNemanin

“Power is a deadly thing, it seeps through good men's veins and whispers in there ear, "Let there be dark," and before God can ever shout, "Let there be light," they're consumed by the delusion that they're greater.” - Damascus McNemanin

“The worst thing bout me, is that I can't kick myself out. I'm stuck with my own company, and isn't that damning?” - Damascus McNemanin

“They tell me men like me can be free, they say, "Thank you, for your sins," and you're expected to say, "You're welcome," as if those sins weren't heavy.” - Damascus McNemanin

“I flick the light on, but the switch just don't work no more. The bulb swings flickerin' from the chain as I should from the gallows.” - Damascus McNemanin

“I look ta the starless sky and wonder, oh midnight dove, where do you wander? You are lost to me and yourself, flyin' toward the sun to kill the man who killed you. But you were never a grave, were you? Just a little critter, wanderin' this Earth 'a endless possibilities. But with endless possibilities comes evil, I've learned. What once was a gift has become a curse to all who hold it. The wrapping lies forgotten on the floor, our excitement has turned to horror, and this joy has become... Death.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Look at me, surrounded by these bloodied knives and empty bullet casings. All this peace was earned in violent delights, but don't violent delights have violent ends?” - Barley Teatherhall

“There's murder deep in my heart and rage deep in my soul. These roots kill me from the inside out and I was born as decaying oak and ashen leaves.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Bein' me is a rebellion to who I am, I suppose.” - Barley Teatherhall

“Legends never die, and thus, I am history.” - Killis Richens

“I dream of the shallow end of life, yet I remain in deep water, drowning for my sins.” - Killis Richens

“Justice despises me, mercy fears me, so I imagine death is head over heels for me.” - Killis Richens

“I cannot know peace, the light has trickled from my blood stream and left the shadows to stick to my heart. Festered weeds they are, killing me from inside, rather than warning me with a flesh wound.” - Killis Richens

“I have been grieved for and yet still, I live. I am a shadow of myself, a shadow of death and this trigger that controls me.” - Killis Richens

“I'm a bad man, blaming he who did not pull the trigger. After all, I'm the one in the chamber, being fired off in rage and consequence.” - Killis Richens

“All it takes to live is a little bit of faith and love.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“I almost lost myself in the nightmares I had faced, and da greatest tragedy we could ever face is losing ourselves. Because if we don't have ourselves, who can we really have?” - Freydis Grimkellson

“The world has told me who I am, who I'm supposed to be, but lies won't change me.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“In her eyes I see the waving grass, da splashing waves and the butterfloies fluttering past. I see us hand in hand, facing the storm or the calm sea, we'll face both with a smile.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“A devil and a beast took me in his clawed hands and told me, "This will heal you." But blood never healed anyone.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“Some times, life is a war, it gives us a shield and tells us to splinter it, it gives us an ax and tells us to bloody it, but not all conflict has to be violent.” - Freydis Grimkellson

“I'll fight death with black eyes and bloody knuckles, because I'd rather die fighting for a dream, than die knowing life passed me by.” - Wesley Homan

“I don't want to live forever, no reasonable man would, with immortality comes regret, and for a man who has more regrets than he can count, immortality is a curse more than a blessing.” - Wesley Homan

“Some days I miss the bright sun, I miss the days I was found and not lost, but maybe I'm not lost, just found in a way I've never been.” - Wesley Homan

“Some fight for honor, others fight for blood or their country, but I fight for others. I'd never fight for myself, my life isn't worth another.” - Wesley Homan

“I'm a renegade in a world full of cheats, in the olden days they'd call me "Most wanted, dead or alive," simply for being free.” - Wesley Homan

“The men who are willing to fight, are pioneers of future days full of bright sunlight and birds soaring by.” - Wesley Homan

“In a world full of kings and queens hellbent on domination, freedom is a rebellion.” - Wesley Homan

“It's good to be yourself in a world full of masked men.” - Wesley Homan

“If you're facing the opposition, preach your dream and find most men are dreamers, not fighters.” - Wesley Homan

“I've been swimming in the deep end with the sharks, praying they don't smell the black blood I've spilled. But they pass me by, because they're more interested in innocent blood.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“I have tried to love first, I have tried to understand my enemy, but there's nothing but hate in his veins and sins in his smile. His cracked yellow teeth haunt my dreams, and every time a wolf howls I fear he draws ever nearer. He is a blood-stained beast, but I can't become him in the pursuit of peace.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“My foe once told me I can't swim against his tide, that I'll drown before ever I find the source of my misery. But doesn't he know, I've been walking on his river bank, crawling up from behind.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“Just remember, damned wolf, if you're justice, and I'm mercy, than vengeance will swoop down and cut one of our throats. And in these years under your boot I've learned, I'm a gambling man.” - Gregory Malhawkson

“In the mirror I see his ever smiling face, the rose on his tailored suit, the blood on his blade and smile. The beast I damned stares back at me with my eyes. All this blood, all this darkness, all these scars and this loss, and for what? A mad man's war against peace?” - Gideon Krober

“Time and karma are chasing me, blood on their blades and my sins listed on cracked yellow paper. I fear karma, but I fear myself, too, so what can I really say but, "I'm fucked?" - Clark Singer

“I'm knocking on heaven's gates, cause I can't take this anymore. But my allies aren't in heaven, they're right beside me, but sometimes I wonder if I'm just preparing for the future.” - Clark Singer

“Oh mother, won't you take these guns from me? Won't you take this darkness and turn it into light? I want you in my life but fear the fact that you gaze upon me. You were my sanctuary and my light, my home and my heart, and now I've run miles from where you wanted me to be. God was never on my side, but you always were.” - Clark Singer

“I can point my guns at the ground and say, "I can't fire! I won't!" But the moment I'm in danger I'll raise that rifle and ruin another life.” - Clark Singer

“My sins sit here on my sleeve, the devil on my shoulder stitching more into the fabric of my coat. The angel lost the battle against the devil on my shoulder, and now all I can hear in my ear are the whispered victory cries of this beast lying heavy on my coat.” - Clark Singer

“In my reflection I see every man I've ever killed and the eyes of my mother, twisted in some odd way.” - Clark Singer

“If I were to retrieve the darkest parts of me and shove them in the corner, you'd be looking at such an ugly, wicked, blood-stained beast, with sharp jagged teeth and eyes that beg for death.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“They say time's all we got, but I'm not the ordinary type, I'm blood and death, war wrought symphonies and screeching angels. So let's kill tonight, my friend, let's kill! Blood shall lie slick on the dance floor, and in this carnival of souls we'll learn, the howls of the damned are the most beautiful of arrangements.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Humanity is a damned race, have been ever since the serpent infected Eden. So don't you suppose that's God's fault for giving the serpent venom? One garden, one serpent, and a wrathful God? Eden never stood a chance, nor did Eve, nor Adam, nor we.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Perhaps power is the serpent to my Eden.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“All the roses have turned to graves, all the dogs have turned to wolves, and all the men have turned to beasts.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“Look at us, damned in a beautiful way, howling in a sinful sway. It was always meant to be this way, so sing, dance, your dark, merry little heart is content only with sin. So sin, my friend. Only men who feed their demons make it through the dark.” - Abadellon Hourglass

“It's my time to shine, cause I've learned history favors the underdog.” - Chance Shade

“The world'll try to beat you down, man, it'll tell you you're out of your mind, but you just gotta say, "Get outta my way, this is my life and I'll reach my star." Dreams is all we are, stars in the night sky who forgot how to blink out.” - Chance Shade

“We're dogs chasing headlights and butterflies, just for the thrill of it all. We'd never dare catch em, we'd never dare end the chase in blood.” - Chance Shade

“I've got dreams that keep me up in the dead of night, I toss and I turn, and somedays I forget, I'm on my way home. Cause this path has been long, man. It's winding and it's cold, it's covered in snow and regret. But I can't go back, cause the snow's covered my footprints in a cold sheet of forgotten dreams.” - Chance Shade

“No matter where I go, no matter where I run, I'm always moving forward, and I think that's what counts.” - Chance Shade

“After all these cold nights, and all these cold paths, I found my star in the night sky. If we blink out, we'll blink out together.” - Chance Shade

“I have been regret soft spoken, and anger wrongly placed, what am I but a whisper of everything I've ever felt?” - Billy Velmenstru

“My heart's airing out, hanging from the old tire swing, draining every childhood memory of innocence and turning it into pain.” - Billy Velmenstru

“We're swimming our way home, trying the best we can. But our doubts and insecurities are blood thirsty sharks, smelling the pain before we ever do.” - Billy Velmenstru

“I look to the sun and smile, but she knows better than that.” - Billy Velmenstru

“I am bullet holes and stale cigarette smoke, the broken cigarette hanging from a bad man's lip. I ain't a saint, but I could be if I tried. But I never will. We were born sinners and crawling up the hill I've been at the bottom of since birth just ain't worth the fucking effort.” - Billy Velmenstru

“Oh world, I'm home, it's a lonely place in this heart of mine, and I just don't know where to lay it.” - Billy Velmenstru

“On a sunny day I'm the good Samaritan, but when required, I am the burglar and the man lying bloodied on the side of the road.” - Carlados Dove

“In a world of restless souls, good men are hard to come by, so if you smile, and you agree, the restless soul will blindly follow you into the dark. But they never knew I led them just under the bed where the monsters reside.” - Carlados Dove

“Monsters are just tales and myths of what humanity's done. We are more blood-stained then the wolf, more viscous than the grizzly, deadlier than the black plague and more mysterious than the plague doctors who wandered the cobble streets, with death and intrigue in their stride.” - Carlados Dove

“Around here, no one keeps their eyes closed, we're staring at the higher powers, challenging their gaze.” - Carlados Dove

“The clock stops ticking upon my arrival, for it knows I am here to steal time.” - Carlados Dove

“I shook hands with the devil as I looked in the mirror, and I found, he looks just like me. His crooked smile and fine tailored suit. My mother always told me the devil wears a suit and tie, so I suited up and straightened my tie, flashed my crooked grin to the world, and said, "The devil's home." - Carlados Dove

“Death is the only presence protecting us from the horrors of life, these days. I'd hang myself from a noose if it meant freedom, though my body would be swinging, my soul would be soaring.” - Aciano Dominick

“Perhaps I have to cut the head from the snake if I ever wish to see Eden again. It was beautiful, my paradise, for my paradise was family. But they were stolen from me, howling "Save me! Save me!" But all I could do was stare at the barrel of my gun and swear I'd kill the man who took them.” - Aciano Dominick

“He stole my life in his stride, and in the barrel of his gun are the howls of those I love, and the damned cries he ripped from my throat.” - Aciano Dominick

“Vengeance is all I know, it's crawled into my heart and my head, knocking around my skull and whispering empty promises in my ear. "You will be free," it says, "You will be free," but his death won't grant me freedom, only mine, will. I suppose to me, my death is my Eden.” - Aciano Dominick

“Some days I believe it is my faith that desires to kill me.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“The weight of my silence is overbearing, but the weight of his silence is damning.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“They say it is our faith, our prayer that keeps us alive, but all I hear are echoes of my own voice. God cannot possibly be speaking to me from my own echo, for if he did, all I'd ever hear are questions and cries.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I tell my love to meet me on the battlefield, hand in hand we will fight this injustice, but somedays I fear it is this battlefield that will be our grave. How could we possibly call it a warzone when it's all corpses? It'd be more appropriate to call it a graveyard, a damned place, courage and honor traveled to my heart to die.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I have met the devil, with his crooked smile and slanted eyes. He tells me to kneel at his feet, or he'll kneel at my grave, but what does that mean? Is it him or my faith that desires to kill me? Does he want me to fall, or has he already seen me plummet?” - Sigmallio Stirling

“I cannot stand this silence, this damning silence, it is all I hear. No echoes, no prayers, no thoughts, can kill the weight of this silence. It brings me down to it's level and tells me, "God cannot hear you, for he never was." I cry and I weep but it is of no use. It is as if I have no mouth, and yet, I must scream.” - Sigmallio Stirling

“It's easy to say "I did the best I could," when the worst comes to fruition, but if you didn't give it your all, if you didn't fight the immeasurable odds with black eyes and bloody teeth, than you didn't really do the best you could. You did the best you could without sacrifice.” - Michael Tabrowski

“They say in order to do good by the world you must do wrong, but how can that possibly be right?” - Michael Tabrowski

“I've learned there is no sanctuary, no safe haven, no heaven no hell, that can save me from my damning memories.” - Michael Tabrowski

“I cannot preach what I do not know, so when I tell you redemption is not something you want to go through, I mean it. Stay on the right path the best you can, because redemption is hard. It's painful, it's not a race, it's not a marathon, it's a constant battle against yourself and the demons that have become a part of you. It's not a path for the light of heart, only the dark of heart. And it's best to keep your heart beating red as long as possible.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Not all men who do bad, are bad.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Strength earned from grief is a painful kind of courage.” - Michael Tabrowski

“If you look behind the mask of a damned man, you'll find every battle they ever lost, and every smile they ever tried to hide.” - Michael Tabrowski

“Sticks and stones have broken me, and I call myself a warrior?” - Markus Caesar

“I wear Dr. Emory's broken crown of thorns atop my skull. It drains the dreams from my mind and pulls the hope from my veins.” - Markus Caesar

“I'm a dog these days, sniffin' up the same old secret, the same old grave. My owner scorns me, but I can't stop sniffin', cause these bones are mine. I see my own skull grinnin', my ribs weary and broken, cuz in this age, I'm diggin' up my haunted future.” - Markus Caesar

“I was once a warrior, tryin' ta bring justice ta the innocent, justice ta the vulnerable, but now I'm the one who needs savin.” - Markus Caesar

“This road I walked were full 'a secrets and fresh dug graves, but if I'd looked a lil' farther I would'a seen a tomb that read my name.” - Markus Caesar

“I'm just a carnival 'a rust, the jesters and fools have damned themselves for bowin' ta me.” - Markus Caesar

“I 'spose I explain my pain so beautifully cause I can't handle the truth.” - Markus Caesar

“Chargin' inta the unknown turns ya inta a mystery, dun'it?” - Markus Caesar

“My memories are closin' in for the kill, these bloodthirsty lions and fools.” - Markus Caesar

“In these past hauntin's, I see Emory's curious eyes, feedin' upon the memories that damned me. In the mirror I see his eyes, his flickerin' soul, he's hauntin' me, his laugh echoin' in my cries. “ - Markus Caesar

“I fear I have witnessed true evil, and he is far from human. Men can be bad ta the core, but no warlord, no conqueror, no blade ridden fool has ever found themselves lookin' at the world through evil's eyes. For he wears a suit and tie, dancin' in the shawl 'a human misery like he owned the damned race.” - Markus Caesar

“I haz von many a time, but all it took vaz one loss to break me.” - Sameth Winn

“I'd burn my bridges if I zought it vould bring me to her. My sweet daughter, my star in ze night sky, I cannot find her, she vaz my North Star, and now I fear I can't find home. I cannot move on, I cannot remember how to breathe, she vaz the breath in my lungs.” - Sameth Winn

“I hold Toby's heart in my hands, and it beats as slow as mine does. It drips vith sorrow, vith regret and love, but ze grief screams louder.” - Sameth Winn

“Ze vorld haz stopped shining, and zis pain overpowers my love. Ve're holding onto each ozah, because ve're all ze ozah has. Our hearts have broken in half, and sadly, grief found it'z opportunity and filled up ze ozah half.” - Sameth Winn

“Life has taken me through many trials, I'm still standing, but that doesn't mean I've regained all I had won.” - Toby Winn

“I close my eyes and dream of better days, it's sad, that we don't get to be here long, and spend our days dreaming of times that were better.” - Toby Winn

“The good ol' days have passed us by, the wind heard our love and took it with his stride.” - Toby Winn

“I hold Sameth's heart in my hands, but it beats slower and slower, some days I fear it'll stop with all this grief.” - Toby Winn

“All we want is to hold our daughter in our arms again, to hear her laugh, to watch her smile. But love has become such a war. Grief and regret stands on the front lines, firing their rifles in rage and pain, telling us this is all we'll ever be.” - Toby Winn

“These memories won't heal, they're scars in my mind, trouble that just doesn't go. I fear this pain is all I can muster, the smiles have faded from my face, my laugh don't sound the same. There was joy behind that smile once, love behind that laugh. But this smile remains full of tears, this laugh full of glass.” - Toby Winn

“I am the easy target the arrow sinks inta, cause they always come for the wild ones, the damned, the freaks 'a nature.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“The circus dragged me into it's depths kicking and screamin', I followed no siren's song. I fought back tooth and nail 'gainst this blood-stained melody, but she covered me with marks 'a her claws and notes 'a her song. And now I'm in a trance, a foolish delusion that I'll be the last one standin' in a murder full 'a crows.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I make friends with the beasts and lions in my head, with friends like these I'm my own fuckin' enemy.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I am the beast master, the damned man, but out of all the beasts I've ever tamed, I'm the hardest one ta catch. I can make friends with lions and cheats, and yet, I can't tame this beast that is me. I am my own beast, and I do not bow to myself.” - Bortley Dekruiful

“I am a wildfire, scorching myself and anyone who dares step foot in the ashen forest of me. I could build an empire of these scorched bones, these scalded skulls. I could sit upon my throne and gaze upon an ever smiling crowd of subjects that forgot to burn is to die.” - Richter Vellomonte

“There are no more heroes in this ashen land, this forest of burnt stumps. Our capes flutter in tatters, relics of who we were draped over our shoulders. But who we used to be is a weight we cannot seem to lift.” - Richter Vellomonte

“This world is kill or be killed, do not forget that he who refuses to pull the trigger catches the bloody bullet.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I suppose, with all this blood on my hands, I have become a wolf. Or a beast, or some extant form of man. I have bled on the floor, and as I realized there were no more heroes left to save me, I had to become the villain that would save himself.” - Richter Vellomonte

“Life is a terrible thing, wrought with terror and horror, ugly prose and poetry, it was never beautiful, just a bloodbath.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I looked at the man I was and said, "I'll build myself an empire," and he told me, with all his childhood naivety, that it would be lonely at the top.” - Richter Vellomonte

“I have been fed the scraps of destiny, devouring crumbs of fate. But I made my own destiny. They say I lost my mind as they threw me to the wolves, but don't they realize? It was among the wolves and the bastards that I found it.” - Richter Vellomonte

“Sympathy is found in such cruel hearts, why is peace found in the eye of the storm when we could give it to better men?” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“Evil is such a wicked root, digging into history, festering it from the inside out.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“I've learned we are comets amongst the stars, burning in the atmosphere, hurtling toward love and hate, life and death.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“We're wicks of a candle doomed to burn out, but we should find solace in the fact that we created light while we were here.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“I find myself in the crossfire of history colliding.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“Carlita believes she's the final bullet in the chamber, but alas, she's the oak tree, sturdy and strong, roots of light digging into history and driving out the dark. Her scars make her beautiful and strong, her history builds her compassion and everything that has not yet killed her built her throne.” - Jonine Nataliseburg

“There are no more heroes, only the violent ones and the few good men still left.” - Jesus Romez

“Look at this life of mine and you'll damn me, look at this soul of mine and you'll forgive me. Though you are no God, I do not expect you to.” - Jesus Romez

“I have learned evil is a learned behavior, passed down from generation to generation, starting with Adam and ending with Eve.” - Jesus Romez

“I am one of the many violent beasts, and as I look around me, I see monsters, they wear flesh white masks and stained teeth, their snarls are full of hunger, their nails cracked and broken. But look around you, and you'll find the los Muertos vivientes are not the only beasts that roam. They wear our hearts, our skin, our souls. Their eyes are blue and brown, their hair long and short. Monsters look just like us, hiding their fangs behind a blood-stained smile. And we thought the dark hid them? No, my amigo, light hides the monsters in plain sight, the rays of moonlight bask them in a cold glow, revealing what they always were.” - Jesus Romez

“I was born a damned man, foot in the grave, heart in the soil.” - Jesus Romez

“The dawn in my soul has risen red time and time again, I have lost myself to the dark and the lies I believed.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I have found that in the circus we dance and laugh, we jiv and we jive, but behind our painted smiles, and behind our painted nails, is blood and dirt from the graves we've dug while still alive.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I am just another clown of Borbasli's Siren Cove, dancing in a rainstorm, juggling knives and doubts.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“We flip the pages and hope to find the end of this torture, but as we read the prose and stare at the poetry, we learn in beauty there was only hidden intention.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“I am so covered in blood I call paint, I am a wolf of painted smiles and curly red wigs.” - Alphonsine Daub’ONair

“We're all stories in the end, bastards and cheats glorifying our damn tales. But they weren't never grand, in the end.” - Walt Burrick

“There ain't no sliver 'a light in this hollow abyss 'a me.” - Walt Burrick

“I am a king wearin' a crown 'a thorns, I never 'spected ta be the one on the damn cross, but here I am, a crucified corpse 'a all I've ever been. The boy 'a wonder, the innocent man tastin' the dark, and the wicked beast all beatin' in one damn chest.” - Walt Burrick

“I'm burnin' alive for these sins 'a mine, wolves are on the prowl for my wicked soul, but they were once sheep, I 'spose to these poor, sorrowed werewolves, I'm the damn moon.” - Walt Burrick

“Spare your sympathy for a damned man, I don't need no silver dollar, I don't need no rusted nickel, for I'm a crooked smile and a wicked blade, nuthin' more than an extension 'a these lives I've took.” - Walt Burrick

“I am swingin' on a rope 'a every lie I ever told, and if an angel were to hear knockin' on heaven's doors, they'd soon realize it was nuthin' but my corpse, thump, thump, thumpin' gainst the damn gates.” - Walt Burrick

"I'll tell ya what, when dark deeds stand on the horizon, stars don't shine like normal. Sure, they're still there, but they don't bring no wonder, only judgment as they gaze at us." - Walt Burrick

"Murphy, look. You're a criminal, there's no denying that, and I'm F.B.I. Neither of our boots are standing on a good place to be. But, I have been told that if you come with me, you drop that gun of yours and, and surrender yourself willingly; that we can get your boots where they're supposed to be. Because right now, Murphy, you and I? We're on thin fucking ice." - Alfred Godsel

"Ah, hello darkness, my old friend. Faring just as well as usual, I would imagine?" - Alfred Godsel

"Oh that ain't heaven at my door. Ain't hell, neither. No, I would imagine not. Just an old friend of mine... Old friends, actually. Darkness, greed and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close." - Alfred Godsel

"Some days you're up, some days you're down, but no matter what, you always got the chance to stand." - Alfred Godsel

"Oh, holdin' a clean knife don't get you very far." - Zafavri Holts

"Come on, I'm a weapon, and weapons don't weep." - Zafavri Holts

"Life beats ya down, it do, but I say, face the challenge, cause it ain't the bark in the dog that counts, it's the love." - Montgomery Dalton

"Have we all been damned or is that just living?" - Murphy Joy

"You are the goblet that never runs dry, my friend. And I will drink from your pain." - Anadon Finch

"Heavy does my heart sit upon the scale, heavy are the secrets that made it so." - Mason White "Payin' the devil's price ain't much ta pay when you forget you ain't your past." - Mick Fallbrook

"I fear I am a reflection of my vengeance." - Diamond Valos

"Justice ain't no lady, nor is redemption, twisted, battered whores they are, caught in a wicked dance." - Sampson O'Connel

"No one cares for the breathing man, they'll scorn you above soil and weep when you're below it." - Burasbley Highersman

"Evil's on my mind, blood is on my hands, and I'm livin' by a crimson stained gun." - Decazle DeLillium

"Set fire ta the roses 'a the graves I've made and tell all who stand in my way, I'm comin' home." - Zachary DeLillium

"When life crumbles, you got to wonder what it's worth." - Bennington Shillow

"I suppose dead men don't speak and nor shall I." - Turner Kordell

"Ever since I was a boy the streets were my home, the rain was my only comfort, the roaring of the highway my only friend." - Kobi Grant

"Look, kid, you try to be more than yourself, you'll end up less than yourself." - Kobi Grant

"You know, home isn't always where you lay your head, it's where you lay your heart." - Shalko Valwit

"Trust me, no man ever wishes for pain, nor do they dream of it. But unfortunately for you, Chance. This is a nightmare." - Karl Vadibrinski

"I am many things, and I suppose for you, I'm a cold midnight grave, left desolate in the cemetery." - Karl Vadibrinski

"The shadows will swallow you whole before ever you are blinded by the light of your dreams." - Karl Vadibrinski

"Take the higher road the powerful say, acting as if they took it all along." - Milo Vadotil

"Look where dreamin' got Icarus." - Theodore Holymann

"When I stand before God, I will have to justify the time I spent on this Earth, and I'm afraid, I won't be able to." - Jarvis McGregor

"I'm starting to realize, I'm no better than those who put me through the ringer and told me I wasn't enough." - Jarvis McGregor

"So, here I sit, at the bottom of the deep blue sea, wondering when the sharks will smell the blood on my fists. Will they drag me to shore, or will they rip and tear at my flesh until I am no more? Can you trust a shark within it's natural habitat, can you trust the wolf not to tear into the sheep?" - Jarvis McGregor

"It's a feeling I won't ever forget. Knowing something bad is going to happen, and it's going to be all your fault." - Isiah McGregor

"I guess some folks are meant for prison, their lives are broken from the start and on the highway they live, prison is the simple destination in which they've been headed for ever since they were born." - Isiah McGregor

"No one was asked if they wanted to walk this Earth." - Leopolo Diamon

"Funny how age kills dreams and rips them asunder." - Leopolo Diamon

"Funny, how we must fall is we are ever to rise again, and we must first break, if we ever wish to be whole... So I ask one question, when shall I be whole, for I have broken a dozen times, and yet, I am unable to carry every piece in my arms, so I simply must leave them behind." - Hargrove Solomons

"Every man is accountable for his sins, whether he has nothing but lint in his pocket or a billion dollars in his bank, I lived, to ensure, everyone was accountable, I was the angel of death, the judge, the jury, and the executioner, and no stone would go unturned, no man, left alive." - Hargrove Solomons

"I'm the chicken inside of the pen, and yet, I'm the fox stalking the damn night, and I don't know which one 'a us will fucking win." - Rodriguez Brickjaw

"There ain't no more soldiers, just men with violent hearts we can't call broken anymore." - Duke Benson "Swing me from the gallows, eh? It's da only fing you can do for a damned man." - Jerry Benson

"Strange, in'it, how when a soldier asks God where he went, all he hears is gunfire. And perhaps that's God's voice, the language 'a war the only tongue he knows." - Mordakai Benson

"Love is worth a helluva lot more than hate." - Phillip Scarrow

"I was always the outcast, the cat in a room full 'a dogs." - Chad Broker

"Trust gets you nowhere, no matter who they say they are, who they claim to be, there's always something hiding just behind the damn smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a warning." - Andera Malikson "Songs of war knock at your door, my friend. Dare you answer them?" - Valskirrith Deskgrottir "Death is a wild hound, smelling blood on the battlefield before it was ever spilled." - Valskirrith Deskgrottir

"When faced with death, you smile back and pull the trigger." - Clayborne Pettygore

"I hold life and death in my hands, and they slip often, these days." - Zacharia Von Shelton

"I suppose on the battlefield we're all legends, fighting for our right to history." - Nolan Vanberg

"The day we die ain't no cloudy sky, ain't no storm ridden path. When we pass on, and the world reclaims us, the sun will be high in the sky, smilin' at the world as she always do. There is no beauty in death, but it does not take the beauty from the world." - Brock Snipersway "Bein' damned is a good enough reason to keep marchin. So march." - Brock Snipersway

"The light at the end 'a the tunnel is just another runaway train, and I chase it with reckless abandon, refusin' ta believe it'll run me down." - Mikaelson Graves

"We let the sinners in the stable, and the story of faith was twisted into a blood written tale." - Alex Hoffs "Be holy, they say, be goot, but as soon as ya defy their order, they fuckin' defy themselves." - Aggemuth Williamson "Don't dare forget that dark souls once knew the light." - Brayton Oakes "In your presence, I have learned death is not equal nor is it fair. You have twisted the meaning of death from peace to control." - Lucian Void

"We are pawns in a game we are meant to lose." - Lucian Void "They say the dark slowly eats away at the light. But in this place? There was no loving God to say let there be light in the first place." - Hilton Kingrey

"People, they're just like flowers, you see. You put em in the wrong soil, they whither and writhe, no matter how much water you give em. But you put em in rich, heartful soil, and they'll start to bloom. They'll embrace the rain, the storm, the tramplin', cause it helps em grow. Sure, some days they'll bend down, hidin' from the sun, and other days, the shadows'll leave em cold. But ya just gotta give em time. If a flower's dyin', ya change the soil, not the flower. It's same with man." - Wilford Straw

"I have seen all this world has to offer, and yet, I hold nothing." - Jolene Paquil "What a fall from heaven, my life has been." - Killis Richens "Jou think ze devil vould valk freely whilst Olympus still roams? Vith men like him infesting ze Earth, it's no vonder God abandoned us." - Cillian Suchett "The thing that sets me apart from the bad men, is that I don't want to be a monster, I just am." - Alfonso O'Sullivan "Burn the witch, they say, damning the girl who didn't do a thing, whilst the man who pulled the trigger stands, smirking within the shadow of the flame." - Yotsuki Brightburn "You were dead the day you promised my mother glory in Valhalla, dooming her to a purgatory in Hellheim by making a mockery of her death. And thus, my friend, I shall make a mockery of you." - Valskirith Deskgrotirr "You say your blood runs black, but we'll see how much you lie when I cut your throat." - Barley Teatherhall

"Sinners and thieves never win, they say. But it is the wolf that claims the sheep, the hunter that catches the prey. Who's to say we won't re-write the definition of winning?" - Wendell Blackvalley

#Writing #author #characters #characterlines

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mrneighbourlove · 4 years

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Evil’s Bane: Ch 8. Looming Dread

Leere looked a round a massive red ballroom, with a large staircase leading up to more doors. There were chandeliers hanging above, and many routes that they could take. No exits outside of course. Turning to Bonegrinder, she was catching her breath with the other Mortuus. “Bonegrinder. And Hades? I’m surprised you made it here.”

"Bonegrinder?" Black approached the Anagari who was breathing hard. It was evident he was not fully healed. Hades did what he could, but it would take a while for Prama's magic to finish such horrible injuries, most of which could not be seen with the eye. The Wraith frowned, noticing how the Anagari was struggling to even stay upright. "... we need to go back. You're in bad shape."

"He has been in bad shape for a long time, Black." Bonegrinder always had that dry humor availible, despite the situation. "You will have to wait to go back. Summoning a portal is not easy work. He will have to rest some more."

“Can we wait here? What if danger makes itself known?” Bi-Hanzo asked. Grabbing his head, he shook it. Felt hot in the room. And, did he hear something in distance? Sounded like laughter. No. Must have been his imagination.

"Not unless you have readily available portal magic so we can leave." Black then stated. "If you want to go on, then be my guest. My responsibility is the princess. Not you."

"... this snake supposes that he should question where we are. There is a familiar feeling of this place... but worse than last time."

“Last time?” Leere asked.

Hades was pacing around, feeling uncertain about his surroundings. Kenshi wiped the sweat off his head, feeling sick.

"Wait... no... was that this snake or Prama?" Bonegrinder rubbed his forehead. "His memories... Prama's memories... when is where, and where is when..."

"Don't stress over it," Black knew this was not a good sign. Anymore stress, and his master's mind might snap again. Two souls in one body was really taxing and he had seen many of his master's so-called 'episodes'. The last thing the group needed was a huge blast of magic knocking everyone back and drawing the attention of Destroyer... or his minions. "We're here now. Let's focus on the here."

Leere paced, rubbing her head. There was something... bad. Something familiar in the air. And it made her feel anxious.

Kenshi suddenly looked up, feeble shock trembling in his voice. There was sweat gushing down his face now, and his widened eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept for days. “Franeska?”

Leere and the others turned to see Kenshi suddenly running off. Bi-Hanzo was shocked by this. “Kenshi! Where are you going?!” The man chased after his fellow villager. When Kenshi reached the door, he opened it up with a kick. Inside was a small room with no natural light in the room. In that room, a little girl with her back to him facing the direct corner of the room was all that could be seen. Unnaturally she was perfectly illuminated with a bright red coat that covered her face from view. Leere looked to Black, hurrying along. Kenshi kept himself in the frame of the door from letting anyone else in.

"Don't follow after that apparition!" Black told Kenshi, sensing danger when the man ran off, but he did not chase him. He stayed with Leere. "Bonegrinder... something bad is coming, isn't it?"

"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it, Black... it's much worse than you could ever imagine."

Kenshi drew closer, relief on his face. “Franeska? It’s your father. It’s me.”

As Leere got into eyesight, all her instincts kicked in so fast she almost threw up. Memories she buried of being underwater and trapped with nightmares flooded back. She could sense the unique brand of demonic undeath now. It tastes like iron and vomit on her tongue. As her breath grew dry, and she tried to get the words out, Kenshi felt it too. “Wait...”

What turned around was no longer his daughter. A hideous monster with bone claws coming out of its hands and a disturbing contorted face of twisted flesh. With a shake of its head, as if confirming it was no longer his daughter, it stabbed those claws deep into Kenshi’s chest. Over and over it tore him slowly apart. Leere and Bi-Hanzo stepped back. From inside the room, a gargled roar echoed in its chambers. Turns out, in the dark, there was long, long tunnel that stretched far and wide. And it was filled to the brim with monsters. Leere looked to the door up the stair case, adrenaline rushing through her. “RUN!!!”

"Again with the running, why can't humans ever listen?" Black hurried alongside Leere, rushing, but looked over his shoulder to see Bonegrinder and Hades. At least his master could still move, but his speed was greatly reduced. The ghouls snarled, almost trampling over each other to tear the group apart. They had so much energy and hate in their being then any other undead the Wraith had seen. Once the doors at the top of the staircase were open, and everyone was through, Black used a touch of his own magic to seal it for the time being. There were multiple bangs against the door, and he frowned. "We have to find a place where we can rest for a bit. All this running is going to take a toll on all of us."

The bang on the doors grew more intense, and the ghouls crawled over the walls and ran to other doors to find other ways of reaching them. There were hundreds of undead that chased them from that room alone. How many more were there? Leere gripped her shadow medallion, sighing. “Let’s keep walking down this hall for now.” Looking to Bi-Hanzo, she nodded solemnly to him. “I’m so sorry about losing Kenshi.”

“Least I know what’s happened to my missing people...”

"We need to exercise caution. We don't know what to expect from a place like this." Black walked beside of Leere, glancing back every now and then to check on Bonegrinder. The Wraith was concerned about the Anagari. He had not seen him look this bad in a very long while. Black was one of the oldest members of the Hive and he had been through harsh times with Bonegrinder, thick and thin.

Walking down the hallway, it started to curve. On the walls were pipes and lights. Leere heard of this before, and seen it in Danjur. Electricity. Little bulbs of light glowing faintly to light of the room.

There were doors every once in the while on the left side. Staying alert, they saw a Mortuus at one of the doors, fumbling with keys to get in. Leere looked to Black. “Should we risk taking a guide, or move on?”

"Judging from what transpired outside this tower, these people rather shoot off their own foot than help a stranger." Black did not sound too enthused. "Let us try to keep moving until Bonegrinder can summon a portal."

"We cannot trust these Mortuus, Leere." Bonegrinder told the princess in-between slithers. He had to stop to catch his breath every now and then. Seeing he was larger than the humans and Hades, he could slither a little then rest for a moment. "Remember what he said about friend or foe; that does not apply here. They are both."

“Agreed. I don’t want to talk with these cultists of damnation.” It seemed Bi-Hanzo was in a charitable mood towards Bonegrinder. So they waited until the Mortuus was gone before contributing onwards. Walking up a spiraling staircase, they started to gain a view of the outside. The city held the sights of people arguing, children running through the streets, and monsters eating anyone who was foolish enough to have their guard down. High in the sky, a dragon flew by silently. Leere cringed when she saw how little skin it had on its body when it become illuminated by the moon.

Arriving at the top of the staircase, they came across a purple and red door. Creaking it open, Leere peered inside. A giant ballroom filled with cultists were strewn about. They were cutting apart bodies, experimenting with wiring, and praying to statues of various gods and demons. It seemed to be an active hub.

"...!!!" Bonegrinder felt physically sick. His scales flickered, sensing the danger. Carefully, he pulled Leere back with his tail and shut the door, praying none of the cultists noticed. "... he senses foulness there, tiny princess. Let us keep going."

"... they were making more puppets, weren't they?" Black asked his master.

"Yes, among other things. This snake can sense his brother's presence nearby... that or his magic one. Destroyer and Chaos have riddled this place with their disease of seducing black arts."

As Hades was about to turn back down the stairs, he paused. His powerful sense of hearing often lead to dread. “Those undead abominations have found our path. Judging by the smell, they’d be upon us in fifteen minutes.”

"There's no way all of us can take down a horde of those things." Black knew he could simply hide in the shadows and wait it out, but pulling in three other beings with him? That'd drain his magic excessively. There was no way he could pull it off for long and he refused to leave his master's side anyhow. "Do you think we can find a way to the outside? It'd even be safer to hang off a wall at this point."

Hades looked down at the room, scanning its contents. At the far end, he saw a sign of hope. “Very end of the room. There’s an elevator going upwards. Our chances are much stronger if we fight our way through to there then back down. Bonegrinder. Can you manage it?”

"This snake can move, though he is concerned about the elevator." The Anagari told the Lynel. "He is very weighty and so are you, old friend. There is a chance we both might not fit."

“Then we can take turns. Let us depart.”

Down at in the ballroom, one cultist was conducting an experiment. With a rat maze, he had a small worm like parasite travel through a fog identical to the one that the group traveled through the cave. Once it made its way to the other size and in a bigger container, it grew nearly ten times its size to fill the glass container. As he was writing notes, his head suddenly turned into red paste as Hades club utterly destroyed him with one swing. The Lynel short teleported over your cause first blood and sew confusion amongst the cultists.

Leere was running down the steps to the elevator, when she paused in her tracks at a monument she saw. A red obelisk with runes glew a menacing light glow on and off, and a deep anger filled her being. It was a construct just like the Beacon she shut down decades ago. “Sweet mother of god...”

When a cultist tried to hack at her with a sickle, Leere twisted her body around to dance around her attacker. With a graceful movement of her arms, she positioned her scythe at the other Mortuus head. Activating her blade, the blue hum of the energy easily decapitated her target, sending the head rolling in Black’s direction.

Black was managing to keep the cultists away from Bonegrinder with ease. He was using the darkness to his advantage. One by one, he took down anyone foolish enough to try to harm his master. Still, there was no place safe enough to rest and recover. The group would have to keep moving. Though when Hades suggested that all of them take turns on the elevator, Black shook his head furiously. "I will not leave Bonegrinder while he's like this. If he is alone and attacked, and another episode occurs, he could bring down this whole tower and us with it."

“Then you go up with him first!” Hades bucked his feet backwards, kicking another cultist into a statue. Leere watched Bi-Hanzo race for the elevator. When they got closer, he realized how big it was. More so, looking up at the opening, how far it traveled up. “Hurry!”

One Cultist threw a spear and chain at Black, stabbing through his shoulder blade and pulling him closer. His eyes were a mess with bloodlust, and with magic, a ghostly green fire spread up the chain to burn the Wraith. As the cultist was ready to turn up the heat, Leere cut the chain off, following up with chopping Black’s attacker in half. It left a messy pair of legs to stumble around for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Bonegrinder managed to slither into the elevator, fitting his coils inside tightly. There was just enough room for Black when the Wraith was suddenly pulled backwards. As soon as the assassin was out of the elevator, the doors suddenly shut and trapped the Anagari inside. Black, however, released a piercing screech as the blade struck through his body. He did not know what the tool was enchanted with, some kind of dark magic, but it made his limbs feel numb. Almost like the Cultist was trying to force his will. As soon as Leere cut down the cultist, he held his shoulder. Little drops of blood floated around the wound, able to see clearly through the hole. This would take a while to fix. "... that magic was trying to force me to obey." The Wraith then glanced at the elevator. "And we're separated from Bonegrinder. We must find him."

The elevator suddenly shot up, leaving the group the watch Bonegrinder be taken away. “No! No!!!” Leere reached a hand up in vein. She wasn’t fast enough. Looking around, she saw a lever to call it back down. Pulling it, she didn’t know how long they’d have to wait. Although the last of the cultists were dead or scattered, the danger wasn’t over. Back at the door they entered, a cultist was about to flee, when she was suddenly snatched away by the swarm of the undead. The hideous ghouls looked down the stairs, looking at the group. With a war cry of terror, they ran towards the flesh. Leere gripped her scythe, taking a few breaths. “We just have to hold out!”

"Hold out?! There's too many of them." Black was never an optimistic person. "If one of us gets pulled down, we're not getting back up---!!!"

DING!

The Wraith was interrupted by the elevator's appearance... without Bonegrinder inside.

Too late. The monsterous creatures were already on top of them.

Bi-Hanzo magically blasted ice and picked up a sword to hack away at them. When one slashed at his stomach, bleeding him, he retreated back into the elevator after bringing up a wall of ice between him and some of the ghouls.

Black might have been impressed by how quick and furious Leere was if both weren’t concerned with staying alive. The Shadow Sage kept hacking away at the fast undead, limb after limb after limb. But there were just too many. Covered in blood, unsure how much was there and how many cuts they gave here, she didn’t know if they’d make it out alive.

That was when Hades launched a powerful stream of fire to burn away a wave of the undead. “Into the elevator! Flee! Now! You must live!!!”

The ghouls were endless, one after the other, and he was down an arm. The Wraith had to improvise, pulling the undead around with his shadows and using the area to his advantage. Yet, even he was tiring. When Hades bellowed at him to move, the assassin started to protest. Bonegrinder would have his head if he knew he left Hades, but also if he put Leere in unnecessary danger. Damn it, why did this always have to happen to him.? Black had never moved so fast in this second chance of life, if one would call it that, as he chucked Leere over his shoulder so she could still swing her weapon and launched into the elevator.

Leere was ready to save Hades when Black suddenly picked her up. Her concentration disrupted, she could have used the shadows to give him a fighting chance, or give him reinforcements. As she got her footing again, the last glimpse she saw of the Lynel was being swarmed by the ghouls when the elevator doors slammed shut, and they made their way up.

“No!!!” Leere slammed her fists on the door. Still angry, she turned to Black, clocking him in the face with a surprise punch to the nose. “What the hell are you thinking?!?! You disrupted my concentration! Again! I could have helped give Hades a chance had you not suddenly grabbed me from behind! You’re not a knight in shining armour Black!”

Bi-Hanzo was still catching his breath, looking at this blood covered woman screaming at her comrade. Glancing at his own wounds, he winced.

"..." Black barely flinched when Leere punched him. He wiped away the floating blood from his nose and then retorted, "Bonegrinder gave me an order to look after your ungrateful ass. I promised him I would. I'm keeping my promise, no matter how much I think this whole idea of yours was a fool's errand. Now are you going to stop screaming at me like a brat and help me find my master or are you going to continue to berate me for my job?"

“I’m going to berate you for not thinking properly. Yes, I wanted to come here. But I know exactly what I’m getting myself into! I’m a warrior Black! This type of shit is my expertise. And if you keep fucking around and treating me like a Princess, you’re going to get others killed, or me! You want to save your master? Then use your goddamn brain.”

Bi-Hanzo leaned back against the wall, taking deep breaths. “What kind of shit are we in?”

Leere took a moment to use her shadow magic to peel off the blood stains from her clothes and onto the floor. “Nothing good at all. These Mortuus must be magical geniuses or morons. I’m going to say the latter seeing how they found a way to open up a portal to a dimension of madness and the worst undead I’ve encountered in my life. There’s no telling what else we’ll discover here. All I know is I’m not leaving until I shut it down. Again.”

"... fine then. You certainly have the bitchy temper of a princess." Black used the shadows to 'stitch' his shoulder wound closed for the time being. It almost looked like a dark parasite latching onto the Wraith's skin, but it would have to do for now. "I'm going to search for Bonegrinder. You do what you like." Once the elevator stopped, the Wraith took a look at the surroundings before stepping out.

Outside, was a narrow, metal caged hallway. The steel was rusting something fierce, and the darkness was overwhelming from all directions around them.

“What happened to sticking together?” Leere finally took a look at Bi-Hanzo’s wounds, pulling out a sewing kit from one of her pouches to help him out.

"You obviously care more for this Prama-forsaken country than you do for the well being of the one who has tried to protect you from all this darkness for years. I don't understand you. You're not the hero, you're the Shadow Sage. Heroic missions are for that kid swinging around a sword in green." Black stated very bluntly, "Bonegrinder is by no means perfect, but he does care for you for some reason that eludes me. I'm not going to guard someone who doesn't want me to do so and I'm going to go and find him so we can get out of his hell on earth."

“And what are you Black? An undead blade to your master? Klinge minus the smug charm?” She pulled tight on one of Bi-Hanzo’s wounds. “What I do I don’t ever account to my daughter or other children. This isn’t a fairy tale of a hero. But this is good vs. evil. There is a nightmare I need to put an end to here. You go find Bonegrinder. Leave if you want. But you save the good that can be found in this damned corner of earth.” She turned to him, a fierce determination in her eyes. “Because fighting for the good of humanity is always a noble cause.”

"Heh, now Klinge was someone I would admire. He had the lethality of an Echidnan when he was undead but gave it up for that woman and to play house." Black told the princess with no qualms about his statement. "I am an assassin. I was a bringer of death in life and now I am in this state. I killed many arrogant bastards, some who deserved it, some may not have. Either way, what 'good' I have seen in this world is debatable." The Wraith told Leere. "I am not here to protect the 'good' left in this earth. I am here to ensure the safety of Bonegrinder, the one being who tried to help me during the time where I was lost. I am not here to save the many, I am here to save only one." He then said, "Have you even thought about what would happen if Prama was ripped from Bonegrinder too early? No? Of course you haven't. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here, in the last place my master should be, but no. No, he's here because you made a deal with that damn Prama and he feels guilty. You manipulated him." Black barely showed emotion, but this was definitely a button for him. "You're right, Leere. I am no knight in shining armor. Never aimed to be. Yet, I will keep Bonegrinder save with the last of what I am because he helped me when no one else would." He scoffed. "Good of humanity... humans caused all of this. They had a choice. These Mortuus had a choice. And look what they chose. I have very little faith in humanity."

“You’re right. And it’s my choice to save what I can.” Leere stepped off the elevator with Bi-Hanzo. Activating her scythe, she used the blade to light the way forward. With blood long stained on the floor, it didn’t look pleasant. Leading them, she smirked at Black’s thoughts on the o. “Gave up his lethality? I pity you Black. You and the rest of the Hive. And I think I finally get it.”

"You don't need to." Black admitted to Leere almost with a chuckle. "We're all monsters here. The fact is, I've embraced it." He then looked at her. "But you haven't."

“And you think that’s a good thing? You lack humanity. You lack empathy for those outside your immediate bubble. It’s our connections to family, friends, and those we love that makes us strong. Why would you want to be a monster Black? Monsters are what threaten the innocent.”

”You can’t save them”

A tiny whisper ran out in their heads individually. It was like the wind in the air, briefly passing by.

Leere gripped her head, shrugging it off to paranoia that she’d fail. “I can be as vicious, bloodthirsty, and dangerous as I can be. But that doesn’t make me a monster.”

"It is a good thing, because the monsters survive, Leere." Black thought it was rather amusing. She still had no clue of why Bonegrinder wanted her to avoid all of this madness. Yet, perhaps it would eventually be her downfall. If only she had listened, the princess wouldn't be in this place. "And I am not human. Therefore, my lacking of humanity is for naught."

“But you where human once. Surely that means something to you. Tell me. Who do you love the most Black. Who’d you give your all to that wasn’t your job? Who do you miss in your heart?” Leere’s scythe went out, and she never got her answer. “Black? Bi-Hanzo?” Leere searched around in the darkness, and the assassin and the Mortuus warrior were gone.

"I was never fully human, I was am a hy---!!!"

Black was suddenly alone. He pivoted on his heel. Where did the princess go? He looked up and then down. No, he did not fall through a hole. Nor did he activate his shadow magic. What was going on? The Wraith jolted when he saw an outline of his old home. It was faint in his memories, but he knew it was there. He also recalled the pain that was held there. Recollections he'd rather forget. His parents were very much in love, but his birth was a bad omen to them. Yes, his beautiful mother, a human, and his mighty father, a monster from some of Mother's adoptive children, as she called them. A enchanting Nokken, otherwise known as a shapeshifter. Some could reproduce with humans. Others could not.

"Filthy halfling, filthy halfling."

This was an illusion. His parents were long gone. These faces which tormented him were dead. He knew that, he killed them. Perhaps it was now his turn to be haunted. Yet, that would be silly. A Wraith? Being haunted? A ghost haunting a spirit? That was laughable. Yet, the words still stung. The way the other children would chant 'filthy halfling' always irritated him. There was no love for anything remotely human in the world of monsters. It was easier to be a full monster, then anything resembling human. So, Black wanted to make sure that no one would ever mistake him for a pitiful human ever again. He'd change his shape and blend into the shadows.

"Don't you want to be a full monster? What if we could help you?"

"A little too late to play mind games, don't you think?"

"You could be of more assistance to Bonegrinder rather than a weak halfling."

"That's true. I probably would be stronger."

"Then accept our help. Let us help you break free of these human restraints."

"No."

"No? We thought you hated humans."

"I do. They're rotten creatures. But... they're crafty. And I'd like to hold onto that part of me."

“How about a test then?” A voice that didn’t belong called out. A shadow swept through the area, materializing with horns and a smell of brimstone. With flickering red eyes and a body that wasn’t all there, the Shadow Man confronted Black. “A choice then. Human? Or monster kind?”

"... you're the one that Echidnans call Tzitzimime..." The Wraith did not seem afraid or bothered. It was hard to have emotions being in a state of limbo, he supposed. Though, for some odd reason, he could still feel frustration. "The embodiment of Chaos."

“A humble avatar for my master.” The Shadow Man chuckled. With the wave of a hand, two doors appeared. “You have a choice to make Wraith. On the left door you will be led down a path to the fallen Echidnan God. On the right, the Mortuus Sage desperately clinging to hope. Both are about to become in mortal danger. If you hurry, you might be able to save one. Human or Monster? And I’d chose quickly.”

"So I suppose Mother of the Monsters was correct. You are split into pieces." Black simply stood there. "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me. Giving me a choice instead?"

“Because it’ll be more fun to see you fail in protecting not just one, but potentially two of your companions.” The insidious malice dripping from his voice was piercing. “Be fun to see your face twist with anguish when you see them dead.”

"You are mistaken if you believe I think of that human girl as a companion." Black was as stoic as ever. "Bonegrinder told me to protect her. She told me not to do so. If she dies, then the world will be rid of another one of your potential hosts you've waited for, obviously for a long while or you'd be here causing your havoc already." The Wraith asked, sounding a touch... pissed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

“I do. That’s why you aren’t dedicated in a choice regardless by now. Save your master, or go out to kill the girl to stop my first plan of choice.”

"Well, you see, you made a mistake. I care about Bonegrinder. Not that shitty god inside of him. Also, one more thing," Black held out his hand before jerking it back. "You have to pay an assassin to kill someone. I'm not seeing any loot. So goodbye." The Wraith took the door to his master.

The Shadow Man’s eyes flickered with a smile. Closing the door behind Black, he made sure to single Destroyah that now was the time. “All too easy.”

Bonegrinder was in a hell of his own. The Anagari was frozen, unable to move. His limbs would not work and he could not find the strength to slither. He was tormented by visions of his family, lost long ago. The way they spoke was like a drug. He had not heard their voices in years, seen their faces in ages. The snake was content to die here since he saw his family one last time. Yet, Prama was trying to draw the snake back to rational thought, will him to get up and fight, but if he risked using too much magic, it would draw the attention of Dhakk. He could sense his brother nearby. This had to be a ploy.

Luckily, Black knew just the way to gain his master's attention. "Forgive me, Bonegrinder, but I am doing this for your own good." Black had suffered under illusions before and the only way to break free from them was... pain. So he stuck the tip of his blade into Bonegrinder's tail, earning a yowl from the Anagari.

Leere turned to see a white light shine down on a dark silhouette in the distance. It was a woman standing up, yet crooked in her posture. When she spoke Leere froze. ”My sweet little daughter... you shouldn’t have come here. You should have listened to your friends.”

Leere held her ground as a deathly version of Zelda walked toward her like a puppet on strings. Her eyes were gauged out, with bloody trailing down her cheeks like tears. It was sickening to see her mother used against her again. Especially now that Zelda had passed on. “Get out of my head. You aren’t my mother.”

“Why? Afraid you’re going insane? It’s ok. You’ll be dead soon enough you stupid girl.” The puppet suddenly ran at a frightening speed towards Leere. With no hesitation, she swung her blade to cut Zelda in half down the side. With her body splitting apart, the upper half of this sickening doppelganger of her mother leaped towards Leere, pinning her down. Zelda’s hands reached around Leere’s neck, squeezing tightly with rotting fingers. ”You’re a disappointment to the family. And none of them will see your body again. I should never have adopted you from that cage.”

Leere gasped as she was losing breath. Reaching to her side, she grasped at empty air until she found her knife. Turning purple in the face and her eyes growing bloodshot, she thrusted up in Zelda, stabbing the nightmare in the throat. Twisting the blade, she grabbed a lose hand up and snapped her neck. Gasping for breath and tearing up, Leere chocked on air as she kicked frantically to stand up.

However, her torment was far from over. The area exploded into a rush of yellow lighting, and the eerie cackles of children called out. Leere saw a large light in the shape of a door way. All around were tiny zombified children hissing and running at her from the dark. Every last one of them was a freakish version of her daughter Joy. Grabbing her scythe, and relying on instinct, Leere ran to the light. Everytime she was forced to cut down a version of Joy, a piercing taunt ran out in her head.

”Don’t you love me mommy?”

”Why did you never come back?”

”My mother didn’t love me enough to return.”

”You’re hurting me!” ”Die with me mommy!”

”It’s you’re fault we’re dead!”

With a frantic scream, Leere ran through the light. On the other side, she tripped and collapsed onto a clear floor all alone. Shuddering, she bit her lip hard to feel anything else other than fear. Rising up, she let out a roar so angry, so full of wrath, it’d shake the hearts of any who heard it. “I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!!!! YOU’LL PAY FOR TAUNTING ME!!!”

Leere wasn’t going to let these fuckers get away with torturing her and her friends anymore.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626094887593443328/evils-bane-ch-7-entering-the-tower

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626630162211028992/evils-bane-ch-9-everyone-has-something-to-lose

#Crossover!#Love comments of your thoughts #ridersoftheapocalypse #Leere #Leere Dragmire #Bonegrinder #Black the Wraith #Ghouls #Horror #Bloodshed

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