#awful project my beloved Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[willowjay07]

The Big Bean haunts me.

[desertsportshipping]

Leon didn't used to cook. He was a chronic workaholic relying on take out and leftovers of take out.

Wes didn't used to cook either, relying on rations and questionably made pub food. Until he started literally living in the Wild Area, when he learned from the wild Pokemon the best places to forage food from. Now that he had a lot more free time on his hands, he decided that he might as well experiment with cooking.

One thing Leon learned the hard way: Wes has no taste buds. At all. Wes once started eating an onion like an apple. His favorite type of berry was Pinap because "it was spicy" (he was allergic), and there were multiple times where Wes has eaten mold and tree bark on accident.

Clearly, this cannot continue. Now Leon has more free time on his hand (due to his boyfriend telling Rose to fuck off) and has decided to put that time into learning to cook delicious food. His friends are at least glad that he has found a hobby, even if it was connected to his relationship. Sonia was his usual taste tester, sometimes with Hop and Gloria helping, and it took several months for Leon to get a handful of recipes he thinks Wes will like.

It's all worth it when he gets to see Wes's smile.

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

"Because none of those sailors have ever described a siren with salt and pepper hair, wrinkles, and flinty eyes that can make a man balk at fifty paces with nothing but a glance. Beautiful faces and voices that can entrance the most stalwart of men, that’s what they talk about. It doesn’t matter if they’re half-right. Where they’re wrong is what matters."

———

My art for this year's OFMD Reverse Big Bang!

Siren!Izzy has always lived in my head rent free, even before s2 when we finally got Con's lovely singing voice on screen, so I just had to make something for it— with a Stizzy focused Steddyhands twist! I'm a sucker for a secret mermaid saving their reluctantly beloved sailor lol.

The lovely @acesaru was the best partner I could have asked for, a talented writer and lovely all around person to collab with! They perfectly capture Izzy's character voice and the banter between Stede and he is an absolute delight lol. The fic they wrote inspired by my art (and many many discord ramblings together lol) is amazing and the second chapter featuring my art drops today!

Please go check it out for yourself and drop a kudos/comment! <3

[flowercrowngods]

oooohhh liminal spaces my beloved,,,,

I would LOVE to see you write number 3 (moving out and checking your now bare rooms if you left anything, either it be materials or memories) with Steddie!

klausi! 🥰🤍 thank you for indulging me, beloved! this got a little too introspective and too projecting but oh well

no. 3 — when you're moving out of a house and checking your room when it's almost or completely empty and sorted out

It takes him a while to realise what that feeling is that overcomes him; what to call that weight that’s been so firmly lodged inside his chest that he feels like his steps and movements have actually slowed down lately.

A lump in his throat and a heaviness in his bones is not necessarily new in this house, not a new sensation to feel within these walls, reinforced day by day, morning by morning, night by awful night.

But now, seeing it like this, there is a new emotion. A new heaviness. And Steve takes it all in as he lets his gaze roam over the empty floor, still dirty and dusty because he hasn’t the strength or the energy to clean it all again. He takes in the walls, splotched with light and shadow and the echo of pictures and posters that hung there for years, leaving behind only a trace of their shape on the wallpaper, untouched by sunlight for years.

They’re spectres of who Steve used to be. Spectres of versions of him — genuine and pretend alike.

He stares at the spot where a picture frame hung for as long as he can remember, just a tad off centre from the plaid wallpaper in a way that never ceased to make Robin complain.

He wonders, staring still, if he will hang up the picture frame again in his new place. If it will be off centre again, just for Robin. Just for a reason to smile. If he will keep that version of him, or if it will stay behind as a spectre within these walls, too.

One last victim for them. One last thing for them to take.

It’s a silly thought. Dramatic, really.

Just as dramatic as Robin, who refused to come upstairs with jim again for one last check, claiming If I go upstairs with you again and have to deal with your melancholy face, Steven, I will actually burn this place to the ground.

She’d flicked her Zippo at him in a way that was almost cool, and it almost made him tear up right then and there.

He will hang up that frame again. Maybe replace the picture, take one of Robin with her Zippo, put it right above the front door, just a little to the left.

Steve‘s eyes begin to sting as he tries to take a deep breath, tries not to give the awful wallpaper its old power back, tries not to feel so small. So big. So displaced.

His knees buckle at the same time as his resolve does, and he sits down on the floor, the plush carpet a familiar sensation against his palm.

He hates this room. He’s going to miss it so much. It was his prison. It was his sanctuary. It was never his, and yet he hates the idea of it becoming someone else’s. Nothing good happened between these walls. Every happy memory he has are linked to them. He is a stranger to this room. It knows his every secret.

He wants to burn this place to the ground and leave and never return. He wants to sit here forever and watch the discolouration deepen.

He wants this place to be his home. And yet he knows it never will be. He doesn’t know if he can make a home.

A tear runs down his face, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s relief. Maybe it’s regret. Maybe it’s grief, or overwhelm; or maybe it’s all of them and more.

There is a knock, gentle and careful, sounding against the door frame. It has never been tapped like that. Will it know such gentleness again?

“There you are,” Eddie says, lingering behind Steve, his steps not approaching. Not encroaching upon Steve and his heavy little moment.

He wipes at his face and turns around, flashing what must be a pathetic rendition of a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here, just…” He clears his throat. “Just checking, y’know?”

Eddie smiles, kind and patient, like he sees right through him. “Checking and getting stuck, hm? Happens to me all the time.”

Steve shrugs.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure. I’m done anyway.”

Eddie hums, murmuring something that sounds a lot like No, you’re not. And Steve sags into Eddie as soon as he comes to a stop beside him, leaning against his leg and feeling the soft fabric of Eddie’s worn denim against his cheek. Like this, his head is at the perfect height for Eddie to run his fingers through his hair.

“You wanna talk about it? Or just sit in silence ‘til getting up is an option again?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, too focused on feeling all these things that the emptiness of his childhood bedroom makes him feel. All that fear, all that relief, all that anxiety and the nervousness and the excitement and the freedom and the yearning. For a home.

For picture frames off centre, for candles and fairy lights not just around Christmastime, for dinner with friends and finding that you don’t have enough dishes yet for everyone and then just eating stew out of a mug when all the bowls are gone already. Late night dancing and conversations and singing not just in the shower, arranging and rearranging a room until it’s just right and realising that a year or two has passed already and you’ve still not changed the makeshift lightbulbs in the hallway.

He wants a home. And he wants to make it, to create it, to build it from nothing but hope, love, and just enough craziness to not give up after the first failed attempt.

“Hey,” Eddie says at some point, and Steve didn’t realise there are more tears now until Eddie’s wiping them from his face, the warmth against Steve’s cheek gone now; replaced by the sleeves of Eddie’s hoodie. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

And he does. Steve falls forward now, into Eddie’s arms, and clings to him.

“I wanna make a home.”

“You’re gonna make a home, sweet thing.”

“But what if I can’t? What if it’s always gonna be like this?” Steve pulls back, wiping at his face, looking at Eddie now, whose hands are now in Steve’s lap, keeping him so, so warm. “So full of… nothingness and regret and just. Just empty.”

Eddie smiles and leans forward, his nose almost touching Steve’s. “You’re the least empty person I know, Stevie. You’re moving in with Robbie! That place is gonna be a home the moment you two set foot in it. And then we’re gonna paint your walls, we’re gonna go to the hardware store seven times a day because you two suck at decision making, but it’s okay, because it’s a process. And you’re gonna be so, so good at it. And you’re gonna have a home, okay? You’re gonna make it. Build it. Create it. And you get to start over and over and over until it’s right.”

Eddie’s hands have found their way into Steve’s hair again, lightly scratching at his scalp in soothing circles.

“And you know what’s best about homes?”

Steve shakes his head, hanging on Eddie’s lips and his words and all of his warmth.

“They’re a community effort. Meaning you have us to help you. You ain’t gotta do it alone. Robbie and I are gonna build your home just as much as you will, yeah? And we’re gonna be so annoying about it.” He ends his little speech with a manic little grin that never fails to get a laugh out of Steve, even if this one’s a little watery.

He breathes a little, and sighs at last, the tears finally stopping. “Do you really mean that?”

“What that I’m gonna be so annoying?”

“No, that one I know,” Steve grins, and Eddie cackles at that, leaning in to kiss him on the nose. “No, I mean… Do you really think I can do this?”

Eddie’s expression sobers into something more genuine. “I do. If there’s anyone who can make a home, it’s my boy Steve fucking Harrington. And do you wanna know why?”

He nods.

“Because you’re my home.”

The smile he gives Eddie before closing the gap between them for a proper kiss is one that these walls have never seen before.

The afternoon sun comes streaming in through the windows one last time just as Steve gets up, pulled into Eddie’s arms. It leaves the room tinged in gold for Steve one last time.

It’s goodbye. It’s farewell. It’s Steve, moving on.

🌷🤍 the prompt list

[sweetkpopmusings]

minho coworker headcanons <3

a/n: how could i ever even describe how fond i am of minho ?? he is so silly and weird and i'd protect him at all costs <333 as my job has been less than desirable for a long time, these coworkers hcs bring me soooo much comfort, and i hope they provide the same kind of serotonin for you !! pics not mine~

content: fluff, nonidol!au | wc: 0.9k | warnings: none! | pairing: coworker!minho x gn!reader | requests: open

almost everyone in the office is scared of him

you two never crossed paths because you work in different departments, so the only things you knew about him were what coworkers told you

the first time you saw him was when you went into a quiet place in the office to watch some videos and take a mental break from work

he was hiding in that very place because he had been reprimanded by his supervisor for a project (his partner on it was the one who dropped the ball but just so happened to be “sick” that day) and minho needed to collect himself before going back to his desk

that’s how you caught the scariest guy in the office looking at pictures of his beloved cats

when he noticed you, he tried to play it cool and act annoyed, but you saw the tips of his ears turn red as he realized you saw him being super soft for his precious cats

reading the room, you asked “rough day?” and the genuine concern in your voice completely melted minho’s scary facade away

he scoffed, rolled his eyes, and answered “yeah. gotta love being someone else’s fall guy”

that sparked a conversation that included him showing off his cats to you, and you showing him the silly little videos you were watching to boost your mood 

slowly but surely, minho would seek you out whenever he wanted a friendly conversation 

you were the only person in the office he didn’t try to intimidate, and everyone else was in complete awe of this

especially when they saw you two doing word/logic puzzles at work during your breaks

he even bought one of those massive puzzle books so you two could use it

whenever your lunches didn’t line up, you’d leave each other teasing and/or encouraging notes in the margins of the pages 

that book became a conversational record between you two

he’d never admit it, but, sometimes, when minho was feeling sentimental, he’d look through old pages and laugh at how your notes got more and more ridiculous as you two got more and more comfortable with each other :,-)

you become the minho translator because you just know him so well uwu

like if you two are sitting together during a coffee break and a coworker asks about weekend plans, minho would give a vague answer about interdimensional travel

before your coworker’s brain goes into overdrive trying to decode the statement, you’d explain, “he’s going to the animated film festival this weekend”

your coworker nods and silently leaves after getting their coffee, completely unaware of the snort minho let out at your translation

minho, despite befriending you, does not let go of his scary persona

in fact, because he’s so fond of you, he’ll use it to protect you

if someone bad mouths your quality of work or makes a snide remark about you in general, minho responds in a way that gives them nightmares for weeks

he never tells you that he does that, but you do catch him smirking whenever one of the perpetrators is nicer to you in the office >:-)

he’s super supportive of you at work too !! 

he’s your number one advocate when it comes to asking for a raise, applying for a promotion, etc.

minho thinks you deserve the best, and he’ll fight tooth and nail himself to get that for you, even though he knows you are more than capable of achieving greatness yourself

he thinks so highly of your skills and talent, and he wants to make sure you recognize your own potential <3

if he’s feeling insecure or down because of work or poor interactions with coworkers, he’ll turn to you for support, even if he doesn’t directly admit that something’s bothering him 

he could make a joke like “ah, how’re you going to solve this crossword if i get fired?”

obviously, you’d know exactly what he means by that and say “if you’re getting fired, i’m quitting because firing such a smart and competent employee is a major red flag”

he’d tease, “wow,  you’re really dedicated to crossword puzzles”

you’d nod, and he’d smile softly because he knew that you were always going to be his rock at work, and he’s eternally grateful for that

minho is so selective with the people he lets close to him, and, since you passed the test, he wants you two to be close outside of the office too

it takes him a while to work up the courage to invite you to hangout after work

but, when he’s throwing a casual dinner party with his friends, he knows it’s the perfect time to see each other without being bound by work schedules

you of course accept his invitation, but you also admit you’re a little nervous to meet all his friends

minho reassures you by telling you that he, a perfect and extremely cool person, has curated an impeccable group of people, so you have nothing to be worried about

and he’s totally right because all of his friends are not only super funny and kind, but they also love you !!!

and, more importantly, soonie, doongie, and dori love you <3333

every single one of his friends exposes minho for talking about you constantly lmao

minho gives them death glares but they refuse to miss out on the opportunity to tease him <3

especially chan because he thinks it’s so cute that minho is trying to act cool to impress you <3

by the end of the night, minho’s smiling ear to ear because you mesh so well with his friend group :,,,,-)

you two reference funny moments from the dinner party the next time you meet at work, and you’re both just bubbling with happiness because you can’t believe how lucky you are to have met each other by chance in a quiet corner of the office on a random afternoon <333

[karlachismylife]

UHMMM HIIIII this is @valscodblog but her main acc!!

AND IM IN DESPRATE NEED OF HEADCANNONS-LIKE FLUFFY ONES FOR SOAP AND KARLACH.

like-who cooks?? who cleans??? just homey fluffy headcannons <3

love, Val <3

HI PRECIOUS oh you just know how to make a fella happy, thank you for asking about them T_T honestly, i think while they're actively adventuring with the whole party and task force they don't do shit >< like, they're not that irresponsible, there's just always someone who does chores more efficiently, leaving these two ADHD sweethearts to forage, hunt, stay on watch and participate in wood chopping or some other shit requiring a lot of strength and not so much thoughts. but when they somewhat settle down in their own little home...

Two of us wearing raincoats

Domestic fluff with Karlach x Soap

CW: a bit suggestive in some parts, title from a Beatles song, some self-projecting headcanons.

UPD: corrected some wrong facts.

cooking is definitely in Soap's reign. while scottish cuisine can be extravagant sometimes (i swear, i love scotland for a lot of things, but what the fuck are they eating oh my god T_T), Karlach is definitely not a picky eater and will stuff herself full with whatever her love puts on her plate. the only requirements are for it to have meat and be in large quantities, and those are easily ticked off. however, she actually genuinely likes a lot of dishes Johnny whips out seemingly with random ingredients! always on duty since a very young age and ten years in hell, Karlach barely remembers what a home-cooked meal tastes like, so for her to just smell something cooking in the kitchen or just outside the porch if it's outdoor meal day makes it already the best she's ever had. add the sheer adoration and giddiness she feels whenever Soap takes care of her, and she's right there, a dreamy look in her eyes and tail coiling around Johnny's ankle when he allows Karlach to hug him from behind and steal a bite of the garnish. she can cook, meat especially, but she just never learnt any fun recipes, so she can only watch, learn or guess how to add a little more flavour to a simple steak. unless you want a fried imp on a stick, that's her specialty (tastes awful and it's not her fault).

also, Johnny definitely knows how much Karlach likes seeing him wear an apron and does it as often as he can. it's not as much a sexy thing (although there are plenty times when there's just the apron and he earns himself a hefty slap on that bare ass- okay, we'll discuss that another time, hehe), but that same domestic feeling that they both miss, each for their own reasons. he definitely has the "kiss the chef" one and gets all his tips for good service in kisses and grabby clawed hands squishing his sides while Karlach stays pressed to him from behind.

when Karlach does cook though, Soap is not allowed the same privileges of being handsy on the account of it always ending up in their food burnt. even if she was boiling some eggs for breakfast. Karlach is best girl at everything except self-control around her beloved soldier, doesn't matter if they've been married for thirty years already, she cannot resist his touch, so Johnny's banished to serving plates and salivating over the frying smells and a good view of Karlach's rear.

cleaning, on the other hand, is more of a Karlach's thing, even though they are both shit at it (ADHD go brrr, you know). they both can stay disciplined and ready for duty at all times, but what surrounds them is utter chaos most of the time, which, honestly, only makes their remarkable service all the more impressive. they're just used to it, mugs of tea strategically forgotten on random surfaces only to be conveniently found at the right time (hours later, yes, but Karlach can heat it back up rather quickly lol), clothers scattered around, hanging from chairs in piles so thick that it's uncomfortable to sit on said chairs, dishes stacking up into leaning towers... Karlach gets the dark urge almost always first. probably at some other important task's expence, but she will hyperfocus and scrub the whole house until it's squeaky clean and her back is a bit sore.

however, they both enjoy doing the dishes! for Soap it's an act of service, for Karlach just a prefect mindless task to get her hands busy and let her thoughts wander (and a source for Soap puns, yes), they don't fight for it of course, but sometimes Johnny does them despite having also prepared dinner. he honestly isn't that bothered about splitting every chore fifty/fifty, if Karlach ever raises concern, he just shrugs and tells her he wouldn't let her lift a finger around the house if it was up to him - or that she pulls more weight in other areas (like the gym, lol. does she bench press more than him? she very much might...)

favourite position - cuddled up wherever they find enough space for their two huge bodies to be squished together. pathological cuddlers. will absolutely spend some of their free time just lounging like two couch potatoes, arms locked around each other and - yes, you guessed it - fidgeting. cuddling before sleep, after sex, in the morning, after coming home, when having a bad day, a good day, a neutral day, no day... Soap gets to be little spoon so often and he loves it just as much as pressing up against one particular red tail and holding his palm over the calm engine. getting up in the morning can be tricky since they often get dragged back and cuddled to death by a protesting cuddle monster muttering about five more minutes.

they need, like, an alaska king size bed just so they don't push each other off. absolute menaces to sleep with: it starts so sweet, hands holding, legs tangled up and one thrown over the other's hips, Karlach's tail holding onto Johnny's waist securely... and then they switch sixty sleeping positions, have a three-part breaking dance-off, reenact wars they've been to in characters and exchange a meaningful sign language conversation. all while asleep and blissfully unaware. the amount of times Johnny nearly lost his eye to Karlach's horn or Karlach was almost smothered by Soap's heavy weight plopping right on top of her with every pillow and blanket hogged (they have two extra for each and it still doesn't help)... poor Clive doesn't get to sleep in bed with them smply because it's safer for him to stay on a beside table.

enthusiastic house remodelers! Soap is very crafty and likes to build and asemble furniture from scratch, and Karlach wants their shared home to be perfect for their tastes - she knows all too well what it's like to be homeless. changing interior design and moving furnitue almost every half a year is fun for them, they never run out of ideas how to make their home even more homey! they almost do not argue when renovating, which is a bit surprising given they're both hot-headed, but they definitely resolve any disagreements right there on the floor of an empty room or pressed to a soon-to-be-painted wall.

fixing shit is Soap's duty. Karlach gets frustrated easily when something broken isn't getting fixed easily, so even if she knows what to do well, she might worsen the situation by raging against a shaky table or something.

breakfast in bed for both of them. they can never predict who's getting up first, so whoever wakes up buzzing (or just falls off the bed first) and is lucky to escape the cuddle monster definitely takes their time to pamper the other, cut some butt heart-shaped sandwiches or make a loopy smiley face out of eggs and bacon/sausages. both avid tea drinkers even though Soap prefers coffee. he just is constantly thirsty (in all ways).

snack beasts. they are constantly chewing on something, partially because it's a fidgeting thing, partially because they need their sugar fill. the whole house is filled with snack stashes, sweet nuts in little bowls, paper bags with cookies, berries always in stock... absolutely steal each other's snacks and offer to share without even thinking, it's an automatic thing no matter how deep in thoughts/busy they are. Karlach is more of a sugary and sweets snacker, so she often has sugar crumbs in the corners of her mouth, cookies clutched in her big palm, a honey jar with a stick she dips for a taste freqiently; Soap on the other hand is mostly after everything chewy, not so important whether it's sweet or not. probably has some chewy sticks/toys in addition to constant snacking. like a wee puppy with growing teeth.

Soap prefers baths to showers and Karlach does have fun with a longer soak as well (especially if bubbles and/or her hot husband are involved, and yes, it's always steamy with her. literally, she can still boil the water if she stays long enough). absolutely wash together most of the time, or at least share the bathroom before going to bed, one of them showering and the other one pissing/brushing their teeth. will hold hands when Karlach's in the tub and Soap is on the toilet and vice versa.

despite their love for a good cuddle lie-in, they definitely prefer active recreation and hobbies: hikes, sports, dancing, rock climbing, exploring, town fairs browsing, woodworking... except for some very low-energy days (executive dysfunction is no joke) they will be out, getting up to some safer-than-war adventures. definitely go camping a lot, also try to invite their mates too even though not everyone is so enthusiastic. but they can have fun at home too, they will most definitely sunbathe and go for swims in the river/little lake not far from home (even though it might turn into shell hunting or cave exploring. or waterfall sex. mostly waterfall sex.) or have quiet dance nights just in the living room.

absolutely run out under the rain to jump in puddles, splash each other, roll in the mud and kiss while they're soaking and yelling at the thunder excitedly. just another benefit of hardly getting cold - the rain evaporates from Karlach's skin and creates their own cloud of mist to pretend like they're two thunderstorm ghosts stalking through the small village. they are the worst influence on the neighbourhood kids and are absolutely responsible for the little tieflings and other children coming home covered in mud and dripping on mam's carpet.

a little (not little) extra for modern!AU :)

Karlach hates vacuuming solely because of the sound, and yes, she can still hear it even if she blasts music in her headphones or on the stereo ungodly loudly. it just irritates her to the point of raging (misophonia said hi), she'd rather sweep the floors manually or just let Soap take over. she is a little self-conscious about it though, so he has to play up his knight in grey sweatpants with no underwear on shining armor act and play-fight for the bloody vacuum until she feels better and leaves him to do the chore.

training is a family activity! they obviously go to gym together as much as possible (oh Soap is there only to show off his buff girlfriend and watch her excersise to the point where they have to excuse themselves for a bathroom break), but they have a little makeshift gym at home, like, maybe just a treadmill and some small equipment for days when they don't feel like going out. actually, i think they have a little gym even in Faerûn, that one was definitely built mostly by Soap with help from Karlach. it's nothing fancy, but since it is somewhat a novelty (very different from the usual training grounds with dummies and everything) they probably have neighbours and local kids/teens come and use it in exchange for thoughtful and heart-warming gifts. Karlach talks everyone's ears off about how crafty her husband is, and said husband walks around with chest puffed out like a bloody turkeycock.

they actually fight over music despite having similar tastes! but they have different opinions on when is what soundtrack appropriate. you cannot tell me they do not enjoy oldschool rock (and not just rock) (yes this might be just a wee bit self-indulgent BUT YOU HEARD THAT THEME IN KARLACH'S AVERNUS ENDIND RIGHT???), like, two-thirds of their playlist are from the period of late 1950s to 1990s. Price definitely approves. they are definitely both metalheads, perhaps not the most "true" ones, but they would get a vinyl record player to listen to some Iron Maiden or Gojira (please metalheads don't kill me if this is a poser thing to write, i respect the genre just not my style-) BUT they will fight over what should be playing in the car/while on the bikes/in the gym. they both don't like to sit with headphones on when together, so "each listens to their own" isn't a solution. and yes, they are a bit obnoxious about blasting their shit with windows open, but they try to remember to be respectful...

definitely obligatory listening to scottish bands, Simple Minds and others close to top on their spotify. Karlach would probably be curious to look for obscure bands and discover indie artists and share found gems with Johnny. also - yes this is also very personal, but i sincerely think it suits them - they love Ren (yes, he's welsh, i know), Karlach a bit more probably since Soap's lifestyle and views contradict Ren's message at some points, but they both know all the lyrics and get emotional when listening to his music. also, like, boxing to his music is the best outlet for everything pent up.

they both are so bad at grocery shopping, oh my god T_T they are absolutely prime victims of flashy marketing, eye-hurting wrappers, misleading deals with yellow labels and supermarkets' floorplans. Soap is a lost cause, Karlach sends him to fetch some milk and he comes back with a full bag of sweets, steak "for the weekend" and gum with the transerring kids' tattoos inside. it's a miracle if he remembered about milk AND brought the right one (he's definitely the type to buy some yummy-looking bannana-soy-whatever-overpriced-bullshit when they needed simple cow milk for masala tea). Karlach is slightly better simply because she gets just so overwhelmed by the choice that it's easier for her to stick to a poorly scribbled list of things she's used to. actually gets upset when she feels like she wants just a little something extra, but can't figure out even what aisle to look at to satisfy her craving. even worse if she goes grocery shopping when hungry (quickly becomes hangry and might call Johnny for emotional support).

skincare is a joke to them. the only times they do that is when they see some stupid animal-print face masks or when Soap gets tricked by packaging and smells and buys some chocolate body scrub with red pepper thinking it's pudding (first he eats a spoonful, finally discovering that it's not pudding at all, then tries it on his whole body to see if he'll smell like chocolate after, and he SWEARS swallowing that shit wasn't as painful as feeling it burn his asscrack and- yes this might be from my experience too). they have a home spa date and clown around the whole time, wearing fluffy robes, eating cucumbers off each other's eyes, lounging around with fancy wine glasses filled with beer and gossiping about neighbours. take a hundred silly pictuers and decide that their favourite part of a spa day is when they wash everything off in the shower together and have sex. a lot of it. nothing more arousing than your man with sparkly pink eyepatches stuck to his freshly shaven mug.

haircare is a whole another story, though! they are both very proud of their hairstyles and want them to look good, so they do frequently shave off outgrown parts (often do that for each other without going to a hairdresser) and style it. Soap's hair tends to get flat so he will worry about volume, while Karlach (who i strongly believe to be blasian) needs oils and moisturisers for her hair. it's pretty short and only mildly wavy, so not the most troublesome to keep healthy, but she does look out for it. also for her horns too, it's canon that she uses oil to care for those babies!

while fixing stuff around the house is still mostly Soap's duty, fixing their bikes is Karlach's passion. she might actually have a whole garage in modern!AU, but even if she doesn't, she still spends hours elbows-deep in machine oil and grease, tinkering with the engines and polishing their shiny steel steeds. Soap often has to come get her out of her hyperfocus to have a bite and a cuddle-smooch (or more) session on the garage petrol smelling old couch.

watching football with beer and smoking (and possbly all the mates interested) is a must. they are so very yelling at the TV and slapping each other's thighs when there's a dangerous moment - and kissing when their team scores. probably the only thing on TV they will never interrupt with getting handsy, they're both too invested lol. god forbid someone in the room roots for another team than them, this will be such a heated arguement that outsiders might think there's a murder about to happen (it never strains their friendship with anyone).

luckily for Soap, modern!Karlach will not melt snow around herself, so they can and will go snowboarding at least once a year. he absolutely gets a kick out of teaching her, and their high body temperature is a welcome feature on such vacations. however, they still wear those stupid lovers-cojoined mittens on walks even though their hands never get cold.

whew, that was a ton of word vomit, haha, thank you for your ask! they are SO appreciated as well as likes, reblogs and just the love i see here for my precious explosive adhd meow meows T_T feel free to request more! also not just about them, i will gladly write for other COD or BG3 characters. any pairing, also x reader or x OC, why not. i need to get my english writing skill up, feels so weird to see it compared to my first language texts...

[foundry-fabrications]

Happy Halloween everyone! It is with immense pleasure and excitement that I present to you a labor of love, the long awaited rework of Flesh & Bone! Originally, I had intended to release this shortly after the absolutely stellar remake of Dead Space, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. So as to not repeat my last mistake with big projects and arbitrary deadlines, I took things nice and slow, took my time to give this work the true love and attention it deserved. Anything for my beloved Dead Space.

And I couldn't be more pleased with the result! Well, I can always be happier. There's always something I wish I could have added or done differently, but I won't dwell on that. "Don't let perfect be the enemy of done".  But it makes me so happy to see it in its full gorey glory after all this time. But that enough preamble, let's get into the changes from the original!

Being the result of a 3-week mad rush to release on time for Halloween, the original brew has a LOT of problems. I forgot a lot of details and made a lot of mistakes just by the nature of not having enough time to do it justice. Having had, what, 2 years, between now and then has given me a lot of time to hone my skills as a creator and figure out exactly what I wanted to do for the eventual rework.

The first and most obvious thing is the aesthetics. Flesh and Bone was the first time I ever tried to make a Homebrewery theme from scratch, so I had a LOT to learn in a very short timeframe. I got it most of the way there for what I wanted to do, but it still had a lot of issues, namely a lack of integrated stat blocks. Formatting was also just awful. I just couldn't get them to work quite right, and they always looked super off, so I elected for images instead. Since then, I've made my Xenomorph supplement which used that initial test as a starting point, and I was able to fix a lot of the issues I ran into. I also want to change the overall look of the theme itself. When I designed it, I was going for a design mix based on the Dead Space wiki and the holographic UI from the games themselves. The result was...not the most legible. I've taken a new approach with the rework, made everything MUCH more readable, and borrowed heavily from the aesthetics of the 2023 remake.

As for the contents themselves, turns out there were a bunch of really cool necromorph variants that I just completely forgot about like the Twitchers, those reanimator swarms from DS3, and the Ubermorph. With that last one in particular, I reworked the old Hunter into the Regenerator with Hunter and Ubermorph variants, like I have with the Slasher, Spitter, and now Twitcher. In general, most of the necromorph forms were in dire need of reworks up in one way or another, especially their descriptions. I pulled almost all of that text directly from the Dead Space wiki, and it showed real bad. Again, 3 weeks, all panic. All the descriptions have been rewritten to be more in line with my other writing.

I also removed that section at the beginning about the Markers. I originally included it to give context for the rest of the brew, and I just really wanted to talk about the Markers, but the more I looked at it that section honestly added very little to the rest of the brew that couldn't be done in other areas. And let's be real, the Markers are SO IMPORTANT to the Dead Space universe that they really need their own dedicated brew. So, I pulled that section out, and it will go in said dedicated brew another time.

And the final change is I actually included some form of boss necromorph this time! I hadn't planned to, but I started thinking more and more about it, and I was also asked by one of my lovely patrons about it, so I gave in and made stats for really the only Dead Space boss worth talking about: The Hive Mind. I actually had fun writing it, working out its abilities from both the original and the remake, as well as taking some creative liberties and giving it some fun new abilities as a result of it being a Nexus necromorph.

So that's everything! I hope this gruesome creation of mine brings you as much joy and terror as it has to me. Stay safe, stay spooky, don't forget to love each other, and m̵̧̈́ͅa̴̜͑̍ḳ̵̍ë̷͍͇́ ̶̖̾̏u̸̪̅͜s̷͙̟̓ ̷̬̩̒w̸͇͘h̶̠̳͆̽o̶̻̺͂̀l̴̛͍̦e̸̡̡͗. See you next time.

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[crowleysgirl56]

Concerning the reactions to the comment David made to a young woman about the ending of Good Omens season 3 (including mine).

Firstly let me start by saying that most of my posts are to be taken a jokes. They are written to be mostly tongue in cheek, sarcastic and (what I think) are hilarious. So even though my previous post about freaking out about what David said might seem like I was legitimately panicking I just want to say that it was a joke and please don’t take it too seriously. Honestly I hope it just made you laugh, and you continued scrolling. If my post caused anyone to further their own anxiety or freak out, I apologise. If my post contributed to the fandom as a whole slightly losing their minds, I also apologise.

For those of you who took your reactions to David’s comment a step further and threatened that poor girl, insulted her, or were just generally mean to her, stop it! Don’t do that! Don’t be awful. Please be kind. Go and apologise!

With that out of the way, I did want to do a quick* analysis of the comment and perhaps address why people (and to a little extend myself) are feeling nervous.

To begin with, Neil has previously said (and this is a really good point), David was speaking directly to a fan, and was unaware he was being filmed. So when he says “maybe it’s not the ending you want”, he’s speaking directly to the person who asked him. We don’t know the context of their interaction beforehand and maybe she (or anyone else) had already expressed what their desire for the ending is, so this was his response. However taken out of context, the fandom has put themselves in the shoes of the person asking the question and therefore inserted themselves into the you part. The ending might not be want we want or expect. And considering the number of discussions the fandom participates in, the number of headcanons the fandom throw around, and the number of fanfics being written and read, whatever ending Neil has written is not going to satisfy everyone. It’s impossible to. But that is the same of any fandom really.

Speaking of fandoms, yes we are collectively nervous for a few reasons. One, for a good month there, we were convinced that the ending of season 2 was what the end of that story was going to be. Then when it was announced there’s still one more story to tell, there was another four months before it was finally confirmed that we were going to get that story. Two, case in point Game of Thrones. I don’t think I need to explain anymore than that. We have been burned before and now we’re worried it could happen again (though I will point out here, Neil has a better handle of storytelling and the love, devotion, and desire to finish a story that is beloved to him and is effectively a love letter to his best friend, compared to two TV producers who got bored and wanted to move onto other projects…). Three, filming is still 6 months away, and the premiere likely another year after that. A lot can happen in that time. So after these experiences, I can appreciate why people get nervous and a little in their heads about things.

In terms of the immediate reaction to what this could mean for the ending itself, I honestly cannot fathom how some people have managed to draw a straight line from “It might not be the ending you want” to “Terry would absolutely hate it”. Like, that just boggles my mind. HOW do you extrapolate that? David then immediately said “It’s a good ending”. So I think it’s safe to say that it will be good.

So let’s talk about endings and what people are mostly worried about.

1) Crowley and Aziraphale become human. This isn’t going to happen. Mainly because Neil has joked multiple times that this is the ending. Therefore if he says “this is what will happen” I’m pretty confident that this is what definitely won’t happen. You know after season 2, I ended up writing my own little fan fiction about them becoming human. I thought it was sweet and cute. Then I saw a lot of people absolutely hate that idea, so I never published it anywhere. Oh well.

2) Either one or both of them will die. Also not going to happen. Something tells me that Neil would not participate in the “bury your gays” trope. I do think that maybe there might be a non-permanent death or near death in the climax. But both will live, I’m positive of this.

3) Sex. I’ve spoken about this before. We’re not getting hardcore sexual activity. This is not the show for that. Neil has said before he’s not into writing that kind of thing. Do I think we’ll get more kissing? Yes. Do I think there will be implied sex? Maybe, hopefully, I’m wishing for it. But there is not going to be actual sex folks. Please make your way to AO3 for your reading pleasure.

4) The South Downs. And now we get to what I’m most worried about. That we won’t get what everyone assumes the ending will actually be. Crowley and Aziraphale retired and living in the South Downs. Will I be disappointed if this doesn’t happen? Absolutely. Will I lament here about it? Sure, probably. Will I send Neil abusive messages about how he destroyed and ruined the ending? NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! AND DON’T ANYONE ELSE DO THAT EITHER!

So, will the ending be what we want? There is every chance that it will be, but always a possibility that it won’t be. This is the nature of storytelling. You will never satisfy everyone. Will the ending be good? I have no doubt in my mind that it will be. David says it’s a good. I trust him. Neil says it will be good. I very much trust him.

This is a comedy, first and foremost. Comedies have happy endings. Let’s just take a collective breath and believe it to be so.

*by “quick” I actually meant “really long”. Sorry about that.

[mecachrome]

wahh thank u @scrappyracers for the tag i enjoyed ur answers a lot :') f1 tag game...

Who is your favorite driver?: i am an oscarybro first & foremost <3 he's the only driver i truly rep because honestly i don't think i have the bandwidth for more even if i wanted to/tried!!

Do you have other favorite drivers?: i would basically put alex below oscar in his own little tier and then it's just like [WALL]... but i'm also fond of yuki + lando + lewis and respekt maxv :') the rest of the grid i honestly don't think about 99% of the time LOL not in a bad way but because i barely have enough energy for My Guys as is u know

Who is your least favorite driver?: 😔 i feel bad sharing hateurisms on my family friendly blog. 

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: def drivers first but i genuinely like mclaren as a racing outfit so that helps!!! when oscar was still in alp i suffered so much because of it being a deeply unserious team and even back then when the cracks were still forming this was fairly evident because i had a rossi agenda, so i was like wegghhhh i guess i can enjoy a williams stint/swallow down alpine content for him. 😔 and then he replaced [answer to question above which at the time hindered my mcl support significantly] and i got the ultimate driver pairing at a team i'm actually quite fond of ❤️🤍🖤

If you like teams, what team do you pull for?: any1 else papayapilled??? 🧡

How long have you been into F1?: a little over 2 years!!! how i managed to get into this sport via an inactive reserve driver i don't know.....

What got you into F1?: several friends were getting into it & were reading mxl fic & things of that nature and even though i wasn't really invested in any of the ships presented i ended up biting as well... but fsr i was not compelled by most f1 content / barely watched dts and instead got reeaaally into feeder series, i think perhaps because at the time i was fascinated by prospect projections + mapping / modeling career trajectories + the idea of "ceilings" in hockey and was watching a ton of jr hockey so it kind of translated over and i got to enjoy masterclasses like litr the most broken broadcast streams ever of kimi driving off into the distance in adac f4. But anyway... i also watched chasing the dream and became obsessed with oscar from that and the rest was history 😌🐨🧡

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF?: i definitely read it!!! RPF Is Fine etc. i've written 2 effwon fics very poorly and that's it but i peruse the 814 archives regularly..... i forever need to be better at commenting and feel very bad about my own shyness but i think this fandom has such a wealth of incred authors whom i am always in awe of x__x 🧡 tho i will say i'm also a stickler for the 4th wall and it mildly horrifies me that 814 are 75% public..... also fun fact 814 is my favorite oscar ship but it's only my #3 lando ship LOL. j(e|o)ndo you are so special 2 meee

How do you view new fans?: well i'm a relatively new fan so 💗 honestly i barely witness or process most fandom discourse wrt: gatekeeping the sport or dts fans or what have you since i do not frequent those circles of the internet (no public twitter / have never downloaded tiktok in my life) so i don't even know the primary arguments!!

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: i should never be put in charge of anything. now i'm just trying to think strategically like okay where would i want to live but even then i have no idea... 

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?: my family could not care less but def the former !!! 💗 going to my 2nd gp soon with my beloved chirlie friend who has been with me thru k-pop fandom for like 8 years now hehe

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: yes i'm just very shy & have multiple anxiety disorders Amongst other things so pls forgive my neuroticism 😭😭😭 but i love 2 have discussions.... oscar piastri lore is my passion in fact <3

0 pressure tagging @bright-and-burning @piastrisms @miamimaiden @goingxmissing If u would like !!! these r fun qs i like hearing about people's fandom journeys/experiences hehe :')

[written-in-flowers]

Disillusionment: Hongjoong x Reader

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 16k

AU: futuristic!au, rebellion!au, lovers to enemies, enemies to lovers again.

Genre: Angst (lots of it), tiny microscopic bits of Fluff

Summary: During her career as a Lieutenant of The People's Republic, Hwang YN has witnessed things she'd rather forget and learned things about those she served. On the day of her ex-boyfriend's execution, she must decide if she really is fighting for the right side.

Warnings: disabled!reader (she is missing her left ear and eye, and has a bionic leg), PTSD, graphic depictions of violence, guns, war, descriptions of poverty, mentions of child trafficking, general injustice, corrupt people being corrupt, assassination attempt, and conspiracy.

A/N: This is my EXTREMELY LATE entry into the Outlaw: The Project collab I did with @ssaboala and several other lovely people. My entry is for our beloved leader, Kim Hongjoong. I hope you guys really enjoy this <3

***

You sat in the meadow alone. A sea of grass dotted with purple flowers should be a sight of wonder and awe, yet you found it hard to enjoy. A sight juxtaposed to the bustling, noisy city a few miles beyond, you used to find tranquility and quietness in the meadow. It’d once been a place of safety and gentleness; you could gather your thoughts here, basking in the sun and silence. But, not anymore. Silence only pushes forward things you’d rather forget. Yet, you could not think of anywhere to be but here right now. 

They’re executing him today. In a few hours, Kim Hongjoong will be led onto the scaffold in the city center, have a noose put around his neck, and a door will open from under him. You squeezed your eyes shut at the image in your head. Hongjoong, with his determined, defiant eyes glaring at the painted faces of the city people, standing proudly on the scaffold. He won’t cry. He won’t give President Yoon the satisfaction. It’d been the same back in The Academy. Whenever an instructor or commanding officer gave him a near impossible task, hoping to break him, he never let them see the strain. It was why they liked him so much; why they spoke so highly of the soldier who never backed down, who did not accept failure as a result. Hongjoong had once been Prestige Academy’s brightest star, with a shining military future ahead of him. But, one terrible act changed all of that. 

‘No, YN. I’m not going back.’

‘Hongjoong…’

‘This ‘Republic’ has gone too far. Look around you, YN. These people have done nothing to us. They’re innocent.’

‘They are aiding the rebel forces. They’re not innocent.’

‘Yes, they are! They’re hospital patients. They’re human beings. YN, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It’s not right.’ 

‘Hongjoong, no! Please, come back! Come back!’

You fought back the visions in your head. The thick lump in your throat slowly built up remembering that night. You remembered how the heat of the flames mingled with the crisp winter chill; the smell of burning wood and bodies still clung to your nose all these years later. No amount of lifeless corpses, exploding bombs, or screaming women could drown out the one image stuck in your head. He’d removed his helmet, so you saw his cobalt blue hair, his light skin and his eyes. His beautiful brown puppy eyes that melted your heart every time you saw them. They’d looked at you with disgust and shock. They’d torn away from yours with pain and that same determination. The last haunting image was his white uniform gradually fading into the dark night; you recall running after it before being attacked by a rebel fighter. By the time you’d put a bullet in him, Hongjoong was gone. He’d abandoned you in the midst of a raid; he’d turned his back on everything he knew and joined the rebel forces beyond the barriers. He soon enough became their leader, leading a squad dubbed ‘The Pirates’. They gained the name because of their hovercraft bombings on Republic outposts, where they’d then touch down and scavenge whatever they could from wreckage. 

He became the ‘Pirate King’, and with one single act imprinted himself in Republic history. 

The ping from your wrist broke you from the cruel memory, and you looked at the small watch face to see an incoming call. When pressing the answer button, you prepared yourself for actual conversation today. 

“Yes?”

“Lieutenant,'' said Captain Shin, “The execution will be happening in approximately six hours. Preparations for the Victory Parade are starting, and we need you to come down here.”

“What for?”

“You’re in one of the last floats, sir.” 

You exhaled deeply. The “Victory” Parade is being called ‘the beginning of the end’ by news outlets. It’ll not only make a spectacle of Hongjoong’s execution, but give the people false hope. What you hated most is that you and what’s left of your team will be “stars” of the show. You preferred to forget your “greatest triumph” and move on with your life, but it seems you won’t get that. 

Your mission to capture and subdue Captain Kim Hongjoong cost you lives. Task Force 66 had eight members. After storming the “Valiant'', Hongjoong’s base of operations, only four of you remained. Sitting in the grass, you thought of the admirable, courageous people you’d become so close to be snuffed out in President Yoon’s war against the rebels. Jax, a springy girl who loved explosives and fire power; Jisung, a sharpshooter eager to prove himself; Miyoung, an older woman whose age didn’t stop her from taking down foes twice her size, and brilliant Ryu, a guy you swore had a computer for a brain. They’d died helping you capture Hongjoong. They’d given their lives in service to The Republic. 

A Republic that did not care about them. 

“Right. Be there soon, Captain,” you replied somberly. “Over and out,” you said. 

“Over and out,” said Shin, and you both hung up. 

Gingerly, you unfolded yourself from your sitting position and stood up. You gave a small stretch as you gave the meadow one more look. You should put the whole place to the torch. Briefly, you thought of scorching this sacred place to remove all the beauty and memories it held. Memories of you and Hongjoong frolicking in the grass as children; playing and laughing until the sun went down. Memories of days spent under the trees that outlined the meadow, reading or listening to music. Everything reminded you of him. It was as if its taken pieces of him for itself. Every single blade of grass and blossom reminded you of the boy who made you feel happy when you felt like dying. You wanted to burn it all away. If the meadow didn’t exist, then neither would your memories. 

You turned away from the meadow and headed back into the small forest at the edge. Moving through thickets of bushes and trees, you let the fresh air and damp earth fill your lungs. You pushed out that night from your mind. Which night? You don’t even know anymore. The night you both met. The night he left you. The night you both met again. All the nights sharing kisses in each other’s arms, whispering words of love and promises of forever. You flushed them from your mind as you found your car waiting on the side of the road. One of the government hovercrafts painted in black with The Republic eagle and olive branches on the hood, you knew you’d be back in the city in less than an hour. The faster you could leave the meadow, the faster you’d leave those memories behind. 

Soaring high above the main road, you saw yourself in your windshield reflection. Where you once had a full, unblemished face, you now had a cybernetic eye and ear piece attached. The steel implant started at the crown of your skull and remained fitted to the left side of your face. Pieces of shrapnel and ear splitting blasts caused you to lose sight and hearing; the doctors said you were lucky. The shrapnel from the bomb could’ve lodged into your skull and you’d be dead. Instead, you suffered a ruptured eardrum and your entire left eye. Scarring from the fire stretched like rivers on a map from your eye socket and across your forehead, cheek and jawline. Not the prettiest face, but the new eye came with lots of perks. Infrared vision, night vision, and scope abilities gave you more advantages than the average soldier; you heard pins drop from several feet away with your new eardrum. If one pulled off your denim jeans, they’d find the bionic right leg. One of the few times you ran into Hongjoong after his defection left you with a grievous leg injury that not even the Republic’s medical technology could heal. 

‘Yield. Yield now and tell your men to retreat, and I’ll spare you.’

‘I’d rather die!’

‘You can’t win this, YN. We have the upperhand. We have the trains and the sectors. Please, my love, yield and surrender. Please, I beg you.’ 

‘If you have the upperhand, Pirate King…then I’ll chop it off!’

And so you did. On a field of damaged earth and bloody corpses, you’d pulled out a hatchet from a dead soldier’s head and swung it at Hongjoong. He tried blocking it with a knife, but instead your blade went deep into his wrist. It didn’t completely sever the hand; you remember his screams of pain and wish you could take them all back. You sometimes thought of what it might’ve been like if you had surrendered. Would he have accepted you back? Would you two have grown to love one another again? You don’t know. You hoped he would. He promised forever, hadn’t he? 

You snorted as you reached the city gates. Ahead of you, you saw the long line of citizen vehicles below slowly making their way in and out of the silver city beyond the tall gates. In your government issued hover car, you flew to the tops of the walls where official vehicles came and went. Flying between the two sky-high towers, you lowered your window. A guard in black and white stood in the toll booth window, holding out a gloved hand. You handed him an identification card, which he scanned on his computer. 

“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” the man said in a gruff voice, giving a stiff bow. 

“Thank you, soldier.” 

You’d cried that night. Everyone thought it was the morphine high the doctors kept you on, but it wasn’t. Not entirely. You hadn’t meant to hurt him so brutally, but your own pain overwhelmed you. He’d told you that he’d be at your side forever. You were supposed to move through the ranks together, go into military training together, and maybe settle down to have a family. You’re meant to grow old side by side. He’d said as much the first time you kissed him, sixteen and the world at your fingertips. You couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else; you never loved anyone the way you loved Hongjoong. It was supposed to be forever. 

Then, the night the Republic bombed that hospital changed everything. You regretted that particular incident; you’d been a soldier of the Republic, who followed orders regardless of the severity. The people of Sector 5 were housing and aiding groups of people charged with crimes against The Republic. You and Hongjoong were part of Squad 245, a group assigned to put down any signs of dissent in the different sectors. Like every attack, you started with a blanket of bombs that created craters in the ground, blowing up people and crumbling buildings. When the initial attack ended, you touched ground to take down the rebels hiding out there. Hongjoong saw the hospital before you did. He’d seen the fires blazing within, the stone walls collapsing to the side, and people stumbling and crawling from the ruins. Most of those in the hospital were innocent women, men, and children who’d happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You aren’t proud of the harm done that day. 45 people died in that bombing, and more became permanently injured. Everyone around you said they deserved it; they helped rebels escape “Republic justice”. What even is the Republic’s justice? Killing innocent people with nothing to lose? Oppressing those they have deemed beneath him? People they claim need them, when really it is the other way around.

The you back then would hate the person you’ve become now. She’d call you a traitor for thinking such thoughts. But, that little girl in her white Republic uniform doesn’t know about the things she’d end up witnessing. She won’t know about the time she witnessed Republic soldiers kidnapping sector children to sell on the black market to city elites. She hadn’t witnessed the terror and fear those children showed when she stepped into a Republic truck; some of them as young as eleven-years-old. That stupid, blind fool would damn you for shooting each of those soldiers in the head, and releasing those children into the forests beyond. She’d try finding excuses; she’d try to rationalize and justify such horrors because to accept that her precious government is evil destroys everything about herself. 

She’d have to admit that Hongjoong was right, and that she should’ve followed him into the cold night. 

You flew on the sky lane, and saw the tall triangular building of the military headquarters, nicknamed ‘The Pyramid’, in the distance. You also spotted the long lines of traffic backed bumper-to-bumper. Preparations for the parade meant to precede Hongjoong’s appearance were already underway, with workers setting up streamers, lamp posts decorations, flags, and barricades up and down the street. An irritable sigh escapes your lips when you realize you’ll be in traffic forever. You had places to be. Swerving out of the line and merging into a lower lane, you parked your car in an empty spot by the sidewalk. You’d come back for it later. 

The Republic City used to be a place called ‘Seoul’, until the new regime took over decades ago. Towering buildings going high into the sky were decorated with neon lights and advertisements. People crowded the trash-riddled streets, and made it through the general smog created by the hover cars flying high between the buildings. You can’t imagine your city being anything other than what it is now. The people in the sectors beyond the wall think Republic City is a mecca of opulence and beauty; where food is plentiful and everyone is rich. It could not be farther from the truth. Ever since the war began nine years ago, the luxury of Republic City plummeted. Walking through the concrete sidewalk, hands in your jacket pockets, you saw a young man slouched against a brick wall. Seeing his ragged clothing, full shopping cart, and paper cup sitting at his feet, you wished you could show the rebels that they’re not the only ones suffering. 

You saw a street food boat sailing a foot above the street. A portly man sat at the side, turning meat skewers over on a blazing fire. Quickly, you caught up to it. 

“Hey,” you greeted him, “Can I get two of those?” 

The man’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “Hey, you’re that Lieutenant from the TV.”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, ma’am,” he said. “I heard about those kids you saved. I can’t believe our government was letting soldiers sell little kids like that. I was really shocked, but they were lucky you came along.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It was to them and their parents. Here,” he picked up two fresh meat skewers, and put them on a paper plate. “Free of charge.”

“Sir, I couldn’t do that to you-”

“-I insist,” he said, pushing the plate closer to you on the counter. “You've done more for us than our own president. Don't worry about it. Besides, it’s Victory Day.”

‘Victory Day’, is what they called it. What victory? You stuck a bill into the tip jar on the counter, bought a drink, and thanked him. You walked up to the young man by the wall, and handed him the two skewers. 

“Here,” you said. 

His eyes widened at the sight of the two long meat and vegetable sticks. “Wha-Really?”

“Yeah,” you told him, “I’m not really hungry.” You gave him the food, and watched him greedily begin eating them. You noticed what he wore: threadbare clothes that might’ve been flashy and fancy at one point, and leather shoes that were worn out and fading. ���What happened?”

He paused, reluctant to answer as he wiped grease from his mouth. “I used to work in the steel industry,” he said finally. “I ran the distribution before those bastard outlaws ruined supply lines and Sector 2 joined the rebellion. I…I lost everything. I can wait for this fucking war to be over,” he washed down the food with the orange drink, then said, “Maybe things will get better, right?”

“Yeah…maybe.” You fished in your pocket for a few bills, and stuck them in his cup. “For some shoes,” you said, “Winter’s gonna be coming soon.”

“Thank you,” he beamed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“Hey, you’re Hwang YN!” a high-pitched voice said behind you. 

You turned to see three young boys standing on the other side of the sidewalk. Each of them wore the soldier play sets the toy stores sold: black “bulletproof” vests with black gloves and helmets. The one who spoke smiled excitedly at you, holding a toy machine rifle across his back. 

“You’re the one who captured the Pirate King!” he said, pushing black strands from his eyes. 

“I am.” 

“That’s so cool!” his friend, red-haired and freckled, said with a smile. “I saw the little movies they played in the theater before the real movie started. They showed you going into that big ship with your gun like this!” he pulled up his own toy gun and made shooting sounds as he waved it around, “And the rebels running away!”

“You really showed them!” the third boy, blond and blue-eyed, said. “They were really scared of you!”

“I guess they were,” you shrugged. “You kids going to the parade?”

“Heck yeah!” said the first boy. “We’re going to watch the soldiers’ march and see the tanks! I want to be a soldier like you one day!”

“Me too!”

“And me!”

You couldn’t help remembering a young Hongjoong saying the same. When you’d both see the soldiers marching on Founder’s Day, he’d excitedly tell you how he’d be one of them someday. You both would be. 

“You’ll make great soldiers,” you said, trying to keep the sadness from your voice. “Once you’re trained up at the academy.”

This made all three boys jump excitedly. You high-fived each of them as they ran along the street, pretending to shoot invisible foes down the sidewalk. Moving further down, you watched the city continue to thrive around you. You made a turn down a familiar road towards The Pyramid, trying not to recall walks to headquarters with Hongjoong. You’d both wave down one of the floating street vendors to grab snacks before going to work. Hongjoong always bought the barbeque skewers, which you’d both eat as you walked. You stopped at a crosswalk when a delivery boy waited for the green light. On the side of his trunk, you saw the local news lines running through a screen. 

‘Pirate King Captured! War’s Ending in Sight!’ 

You remembered that today is meant to be a celebration. People filled the streets below, dressed in their best and preparing for the parties they’ll be having tonight. President Yoon planned to make Hongjoong’s execution a spectacle; it’s meant to symbolize the beginning of the ending. Members of your team still searched for Hongjoong’s crew, who’ve gone underground since his capture. They will be found soon enough, and they’ll also be executed. Once the Pirates are defeated, the rest of the rebellion forces will kneel. Then the Republic could begin to thrive again. 

A ringing sound from your ear piece interrupted your thoughts once more. Answering the call, you spoke first:

“YN here.”

“Lieutenant,” it was Shin again, “Are you on the way?”

“Yeah. My ETA is ten minutes. Why?” you passed the delivery boy, feeling his eyes on you but tried not to think about it. 

“Because, well…I wanted you to know that the Containment Center contacted me a few minutes ago.”

You froze. “And?”

“It appears The Pirate King has requested to speak with you.”

Every nerve in your body froze. Suddenly, your chest tightened and you stuffed a hand in your pocket. You looked at yourself in the reflection once more, seeing the damage on your face, and asked, “Why?”

“He didn’t give a reason,” he said. “All people headed to the noose are allowed a last request, and his request is to speak with you.” Shin paused, then continued, “It wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. He might even beg you for his life like the coward he is.”

“He’s not a coward,” you heard yourself snap at him. “He might be a pathetic rebel scumbag, but he is also a great soldier.”

“Forgive me, sir, but I…” you heard his hesitation, and suddenly the formal voice broke, “He killed Jax. He shot her in the back like a coward. He wouldn’t even give her the respect of killing her face to face.”

Jax. Your heart weighed heavier thinking of the wiry, stringy girl with neon green hair who loved explosives. She joined your team when you needed a demolitions expert, and she came highly recommended. Always smiling and laughing, you’d grown to enjoy her company and Shin had taken to her immediately. They’d been an odd but cute couple, with tiny Jax pushing the tall stern Shin from his comfort zone. Then the Pirates captured a group of Republic troops, and Jax happened to be among them. You’d done everything you could to get her back, but by the time you raided the rebel hideout, Jax and the other soldiers were dead. Shot in the back of the head like livestock. You couldn’t prove Hongjoong did it, but he’d given the order. His men do nothing without his say-so. Much like your own. 

Sometimes you forgot not everyone loved Hongjoong like you. 

“I understand, Shin,” you replied. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I loved Jax too, but she didn’t die in vain. Because of her explosive lines we uncovered the rebel hideout and discovered their plans to break into The Pyramid through the underground tunnels. She…She was a good soul.” 

“She was, sir.” You heard him pause again, then he said, “I take it that you’ll oblige his request?”

You shouldn’t. You should decline it and leave Hongjoong to die without ever seeing your face. After everything that has happened between you both, you shouldn't give him the satisfaction. He left you, so why shouldn't you leave him? You knew if you met him, you'd only end up crying and you cannot be seen leaving his containment cell in tears. 

“Yeah," you finally said, “I’ll see him.” 

You didn’t know what you’d say to him, exactly, but…You wanted to see him one last time, you guessed. 

“Very well, sir. Over and out.”

“Over and out.” 

You hung up the call and finally reached headquarters. The high wired fence kept a wall between the headquarters to the citizens of the city. Having left your car behind, you walked through the citizen entrance. The guard here wore a black and white uniform, and he nodded when you gave your identification card. You noticed his short, stocky stature, and saw he wore his visor low on his face. You couldn’t recall ever seeing this guard before. 

“Where’s Private Lee?” you asked impulsively when he handed you back your card. “He normally does the morning shift.”

“He was ill, sir,” the guard answered back. You’d heard that voice before, you knew you had. “I’m filling his spot until he gets better.”

You saw his name badge, seeing the words 'Kung Shinjin’ with the ‘private’ rank insignia on it. “Private Kung, is it?”

“Yes, sir. At your service.”

“I’ve never seen you before,” you said, “When did you enlist?”

“Two months ago, sir. They transferred me from Sector 2 after training.” 

You found that odd, but you didn’t put it at the top of your list. Hongjoong took up too much space in your head. 

“Hm, alright,” you said finally. “Welcome to the Pyramid, Private Kung.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

You walked up into the white building, and noticed the lack of people inside the main lobby. You guessed everyone’s at the capitol building downtown preparing for the parade and execution. You need to pick up the pace. Shin will no doubt want to talk before the parade begins, most likely to go over itinerary and the parade routes. You told him to keep an eye on them, since Hongjoong’s crew are bound to make an appearance. They'll want to retrieve their captain, and won't hesitate to kill to do it. 

Walking into the white and beige main lobby, you noticed two workers near the elevator doors. On a trolley, they rolled tall stacks of boxes towards the steel doors. On one of the boxes you read the name “Sal’s Bakery”. You guessed it was the President’s special celebration treat. He often did this to show appreciation to the military leaders. You expect you’ll have a box waiting on your desk in your office. Walking by them to the opposite elevator, you peeked inside to see dozens of thin white boxes with the bakery logo on them. You saw one worker, a young man with black hair hanging in his face, press the elevator button. The other man with him had short dark hair; both of them wore face masks as required by the Pyramid. A small tinkling caught your enhanced ear, and you saw the second worker drop a ring of keys. 

“Oh, hey,” you picked them up, “You dropped this.”

The worker turned to you, but his face mask hid half his face. “Thanks,” he said, taking the keys. 

“No problem,” a thought then occurred to you, “Hey, how much to take one of those off your hands? I have a friend in Containment who could use some decent food.” 

The two workers shared a look, then the short-haired one said, “Fifty.”

You scoffed at the price, but you supposed that’s what breaking the rules costs. You dug into your pocket for your wallet. You tried not looking at the box or the van for too long. More memories came flooding back to you. Hongjoong chewing on another hot, fresh donut from the box, smiling at a joke you told while you walked to class; him washing it down with a coffee and telling you that you were as sweet as the donuts. He’d always leave you the chocolate frosted ones because he knew how much you liked them. It became a special place for you both before classes. It’s another thing you’d burn down to kill your memories. 

You handed the worker the money, and he handed you a box. Opening it, you saw six glazed jelly donuts, still hot and fresh. “Thanks,” you said with a nod and left the workers to their deliveries. 

Entering the elevator, you pressed the level 8 button and let the doors close. The Pyramid is twelve stories tall, with General Bok’s office at the very top. The Pyramid was the epicenter of the military base, with housing and training grounds being right behind it nearby. You’re so accustomed to seeing more soldiers here, since the Pyramid is where mostly everyone worked. But, with preparations and security details in place, nearly everyone is at the city center. You honestly preferred it this way. Less people to congratulate you, or tell you how much they admire and support you. What you did wasn’t easy and you never wanted to go through it again. Your eyes landed on the -10 button on the panel. 

The Containment Center remained underneath The Pyramid floors starting on ground level and going down ten more floors. The most dangerous or high-profile prisoners remained on levels -9 and -10, so that’s where Hongjoong is kept. You felt the steel box gradually descending, getting further and further from the low levels, and you thought of the time you and Hongjoong had an assignment in Containment.

Your instructor, Major Yoo, sent you to the jails to interrogate a Republic traitor and learn why he’d been caught sifting through a commander’s desk. After intimidating and questioning him, you learned he’d been threatened into the search by a high-ranking officer. When you both passed this information to Yoo, he asked you both what should be done next. You’d suggested arresting the officer immediately, but Hongjoong advised patience. He said they might learn who the officer is working for if they kept surveillance on him. He’d been right. He’d gotten high marks and an award for capturing the traitor, his rebel contact, and the information he’d been passing them. 

You were so proud to call him yours. 

Your watch pinged again, and you pressed your ear piece. 

“Hey Lt,” a smooth voice said over the phone. 

“Hey Boggs,” you said. “What’s up?” 

“Shin wanted me to tell you that the parade is gonna start soon,” he said, “And to hurry up. You know, because you’re the star of the show.”

You scoffed, “As if. I’m not the one getting executed today. Tell Shin I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“YN…” you heard the seriousness in his voice. Boggs rarely ever used your real name. It was always ‘Lieutenant’ or ‘LT’ or ‘Hwang’. “I know this isn’t the best time, but when this is over and done with, I…I think I’m dropping out of Task Force 66.”

You didn’t ask why or protest. “Because of Sticky?” 

“No, because of Jisung…”

Jisung. Another soul lost to Task Force 66’s hunt. The youngest of the whole squadron, he’d become everyone’s little brother. Fresh from the Academy, he had the sharpshooter skills you were looking for; a marksman to rival Jung Wooyoung, best sharpshooter in the entire force. You’d see Jisung make near impossible shots, shoot at multiple moving targets, and never miss once. Sadly, even the far distance couldn’t keep him safe. He’d wanted to impress you, you supposed. He always sought your approval and praise, which you found endearing. “How did I do, Lieutenant?” “Lieutenant, did you see that?! I got him right in the eye through his own scope!” 

‘Lieu-Li-Lieutenant, I want to g-g-go ho-home…’

Private Do Jisung died in a battle fighting rebel forces in Sector 8, an industrial area of factories and refineries supplying the capital. You’d learned Hongjoong and his crew would be there, hiding out underneath an abandoned chemical factory, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing you and Jisung moving side-by-side in the large factory.  The grenade came through one of the broken windows, rolling and stopping by a few boxes labeled ‘chemical hazard�� on them. You didn’t have a chance to see who’d thrown it, but you did see Jisung dive right in front of you. The small grenade set off a chain reaction, causing barrels and boxes of flammable chemicals to explode all around you. His legs blown off in the blast, the medic couldn’t get to you because of the raging fires. You remember dragging him through the building, heat and smoke filling your lungs, until you brought him outside. You’ll never forget his ashen face going into shock. He died right there in your arms. The medic wasn’t needed. Jisung was only twenty. 

“What about Jisung?” you asked, watching the elevator numbers slowly go down. It’s slower underground. You hated it. 

“It’s the officials,” he said. “They told Jisung’s parents he died in an accident, but that couldn’t be right. The factory turned out to be a dead end, remember? Kim and his crew weren’t there, and the place was empty. I only saw one person there, and they got away before I could catch them. Why would they say it was an accident when it wasn’t?”

“They don’t really have proof that the guy you saw was there,” you explained, though something about it sat wrong with you. 

“But you saw that grenade go through the window.”

No explanation for that. You vividly recall the small black ball going through a lit up window and smacking onto the floor. You’d heard it seconds before Jisung, who then pushed you out of the way. 

"Maybe they don't want to admit we were caught off guard," you finally said. 

But you knew the opposite. Something about the entire situation bothered you, and Boggs knew it too. You wondered if Shin suspected the same thing. 

"So, you're leaving us then?" You asked, trying not to seem disappointed. "Where are you gonna go?"

"I don't know. Maybe get a security post like my dad did. We can talk about that later," he said. 

"How's Sticky?" 

Pak Sunmi. Quick thinking and tough, she joined your team with four years of service under her belt. Slight and long, Sunmi had many specialties but the biggest was getting into places others can’t. Not only with her good looks and non-threatening appearance, but with the parkour skills she picked up at a young age. You swore she flew through the sky when she ran, jumping and flipping and sliding like the wind carried here. You once joked she must have sticky hands to be able to hold onto surfaces so easily, and the nickname stuck. 

During your capture-and-detain mission on The Valiant, Sunmi crossed paths with Jeong Yunho. Him being several inches taller did not stop Sunmi from taking him one on one. You didn’t see the fight yourself, but Boggs had found her lying unconscious in the ship’s upper deck. The hospital medics told you she suffered severe cranial damage, and would need to be kept in the hospital until her surgery wounds healed. 

“She’s holding up,” he answered. “Her head hurts like a bitch, and she’s trying to get used to the metal plates in her skull, but she’s good. She convinced the doctors to let her see the parade."

"Is that safe?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not a doctor." He then added, "She said she wanted to talk to you too. Something wasn't right about what happened to Jisung, and she mentioned what happened to her too."

"What do you mean-

‘-Level -7: Containment Center Administration Offices and Directory.’

“I gotta go,” you told him, “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, Lt. Over and out.”

“Over and out.”

You stepped out of the elevator and walked over to a receptionist desk where a young woman with orange corkscrew curls sat typing. 

“Excuse me,” you said, “I’m-”

“-Lieutenant Hwang,” she smiled, “Yes, I was told you’d be on your way here. He’s in cell 03 on level 10.” She punched in a few numbers, and a label popped out of a printer on the desk. “Here, scan that in the elevator and it’ll take you further down.”

“Thanks.” 

You turned to leave when her voice stopped you. "Um, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah."

She nervously rolled her pencil between her fingers and said, "I just wanted to say…I think you're a real hero."

Her words didn't shock you like they should. "For capturing a well known rebel outlaw, yeah-"

"-No, for what you did for those people in the lower sectors," she corrected. "I had no idea people outside the city suffered so much until I saw them on television. Those poor children…they must've been so scared, and those women…It makes me sick thinking about it. You were so brave to go into that town and do what you did. I don't think I could've done that."

The border town. That's what she's talking about, you realize. You and your squad rode out to a town on a border to refuel and stock up supplies. When you arrived, it was chaos. Women were rounded up like livestock in a pig pen; dead men hung from posts and roof tops, naked and burned. You first thought it'd been outlaws who raided the village, but to your horror, you learned it was a Republic squadron. You confronted their commander, who you discovered initiated the attack. He claimed they'd been harboring rebel soldiers. You saw right through his lie. 

And shot him point blank. Just like the other three. 

A young journalist hiding in a crate captured the "heroic moment" on camera and survivors of the raid told him their stories. Their suffering at the hands of the Republic opened up the eyes of city citizens, who'd been kept ignorant to the plight of those outside. The news started a string of charity events and fundraisers for the poor, homeless people in the sectors. Being charitable became trendy, and you kept being invited to gala after gala as a speaker. You hated it. You've never been good at speeches. But, the money went to the people who needed it the most. Seeing the sunken faces of starving children curl into smiles as they carried home sacks of oil, grain, and water made the "trend" worth it. 

You thought you and the crew would be imprisoned for killing the commander and his men but it never came. In fact, they awarded your squad medals of honor and heroism. General Bok declared the offending squadron as war criminals and deserters of the Republic; a bullet is what they deserved. He proclaimed your squadron personified everything the Republic stood for. 

You knew that wasn’t true. 

"It was the right thing to do," you shrugged. "Those people weren't the enemy. They were innocent." Much like the people in that hospital. You felt sick all over again. 

"I'm glad that at least there are some good soldiers still out there," she said. "Hopefully with The Pirate King dead, the war will end and everything will be alright."

You didn't have the heart to tell her how the war ending meant nothing. 

"Hopefully. Have a good day."

"You too."

You went back to the elevator down to the tenth level, pressing your label against the scanner until the doors closed. The government did a good job convincing people that the world will be as it was when the war ends. All their problems will be solved and things will return to normal. You didn’t see how that could be possible. Both sides have gone too far to ever be what they once were.  

When the doors opened again, the chill of the underground levels pinched your cheeks. White walls, linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting gave the holding cells a sterilized look. Walking down them, your footsteps made almost no sound, as if the walls absorbed the soft taps instead of bouncing them back. No wonder people went insane down there. You walked past several guards posted at doors or coming around corners, all of them nodding at you when you passed.

High-profile prisoners of the state had large cells locked behind two sets of doors. The first room you entered had a guard sitting behind a desk and another standing ready by the door. With a show of your label, the desk guard let you through. The door guard opened the main door into another small room with a thick, steel door on the other side. He opened this for you, then let you walk into the antechamber. 

“Fifteen minutes, Lieutenant,” the guard said, voice muffled by his mask. 

“Don't worry. It won't be long. Thank you, soldier.” 

He popped open the steel door, and you walked inside. In a room of white, he stood out like a sore thumb. Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, The Pirate King looked vastly different from the boy in your memories. Hongjoong’s cyan hair hung over his eyes and undercut on the sides

 He had more ear piercings, indicated by the small holes your bionic eye picked up instantly. He wasn't taller, but he'd gotten buff for sure. Years of being on the run and fighting Republic soldiers certainly took their abuse on his body. However, what caught your attention instantly was his left hand. Made of steel plates, you saw the thin wiring between them every time he moved his hand. Since he kept his sleeves rolled up, you saw it went well past where your hatchet cut him. When he turned at your footsteps, he paused. He kept his eyes on your face, stunned and unable to look away. He'd once looked at you that way. At the Prestige Academy Winter Ball, where he told you that you outshone every girl there. 

"I know," you said. "Not as pretty as I was at the winter dance."

"You'll always be beautiful to me," he replied, and you didn't see a trace of a lie. Not even when your sensors checked his vitals and pupils. "I didn't do that to you, did I?"

"No. One of Song’s bombs did," you replied. You then lifted your pant leg to show him your metal leg, "You did this." You then looked at his hand again. His screams from that fight echoed in your ears; the blood that spewed and gushed from the wound and his pained cries churned your stomach. "They couldn't fix it?"

"No. Yeosang said you'd cut it almost in two," he said. "Thankfully, he and Mingi made this for me. It's not a shiny Republic model, but it works." He stared at your leg, "You didn't upgrade?"

"I didn't want to."

"Long pants at training?"

"Shorts still. I wanted to inspire my men."

"Like a true Republic Lieutenant." You hated hearing that. Hongjoong noticed this change in you, and said, “Are you not a Lieutenant?”

“I am,” you straightened up. 

He eyed you closely, not speaking. You hated it when he did that. It was the look he gave when he interrogated a prisoner, and wanted to read them. You squirm underneath his stare. He didn’t say anything at first, but you knew he would soon. He walked forward and sat a foot away from the glass. You did the same, pushing the plastic chair aside. Leaning forward, you pressed your label to a scanner, and a flap opened. 

"I got donuts," you said, pushing the box through the hole to him. 

Hongjoong hesitated. He looked between you and the donut box, and you saw his jaw clench. “I thought you might be hungry,” you instantly explained. “If you don’t want them, you don’t have to eat them.”

“No, it’s good,” his expression instantly changed back to a casual one, which threw you off, “Thanks.” 

Gingerly, he opened the box and stared inside before picking out a donut. You watched him eat the first once, shutting his eyes and taking in the sweet treat. Your hands curled up into fists as you bit back the lump in your throat again. A vision of a blue-haired boy eating a donut, wearing his white academy uniform, and smiling at you crossed your mind. It plunged a knife into your chest, and you regretted coming here. 

“Why did you ask for me?" You asked him, not masking your discomfort at all. 

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?" 

"Because I'm going to be dead in a few hours, and I wanted to see your face," he admitted openly. 

"Why?"

"Because I still care about you."

"I was sent to capture you," you said. "I was assigned an entire task force to hunt you down, subdue you and bring you here to your death. I haven’t seen you in three years. The last time I did see you, I nearly chopped off your hand and you severed my leg." Anger festered in your stomach and couldn’t stop it from surging hotly. You leaned in closer to the glass, glaring at him. Why did he do this to you? Why does he still have this effect? You hated the uncertainty. You hated the ‘not-knowing’. "Why did you ask me to come?"

Hongjoong hesitated over his donut, then said, "I wanted to know exactly when a loyalist, a servant of the Republic, lost her faith."

You knew what he meant, but didn't respond. 

"The YN I remember would blindly follow any order her superiors gave her," he said. "She did whatever they asked, no matter how morally wrong it was. You…you're not her anymore. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done out there in the field. People I’ve met always mention a Republic woman with one eye saved them, or came to their side when they needed it. A true Republic soldier would sooner shoot a person than offer her hand. So, when did it happen?"

You'd avoided talking too much about it. If you went too deeply, it'd open up things you wanted locked away. You stared at him, arms crossed, and couldn't stop thinking of the little boy who you met at a fancy dinner party years and years ago. 

"The kids," you heard yourself say. "I was on patrol with my crew when we came across a supply outpost. We'd finished sweeping out rebel hideouts along sectors 4 and 5, and decided to regroup with others in the area there. The plan was to refuel, restock our supplies, then head back to the camp. I'm there giving cover as my team started refueling when I noticed a black truck near one of the fuel spouts. It had the Republic seal on the side, but it didn't look like any truck I recognized. It reminded me of those supply trucks that come in and out of bases." You took a second, picturing the large truck sitting at the edge of the small camp site. There'd only been one other group there at the time, so it could only have been theirs. "I was walking by it when I…" you gulped thickly, "Heard someone inside." You held yourself tightly. It'd been sweltering hot that day. The humid heat stuck your clothes to your skin, and you thought you might die from the heat. "I saw some soldiers not paying attention, so I used my baton to open the back. They…I saw…I…they looked so small, and so scared."

"The kids?"

"It was boiling in that truck, and the air smelled horrible," you said, gulping the lump in your throat. "They had these water jugs attached to their cages and I saw candy wrappers and chip bags on the floor. They were dirty, tired and hot. One boy looked like he might pass out. I gave him my water, and asked who they were and why they were there. A girl told me soldiers went into their town and killed everyone…and took the kids…I…I couldn't believe they were Republic. I thought the soldiers might be outlaws pretending to be soldiers to get through barricades easier." You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the tears back. Too many things threatened to make you cry, and you wouldn't leave here crying. "I confronted the driver. He didn't even seem scared or bothered. He said that a commander ordered them to round up some kids for an indoctrination process. I had no idea what that meant, and he said I didn't need to know…"

"Indoctrination?"

"It was a lie," you waved it away. "One of his comrades came up to us next, recognized me from the Academy, and told me the truth. He said some big commanding officer gave him and his squad money to smuggle kids into the city. I was…it was sick. I couldn't believe him. I thought he was making it up. I," you squeezed your eye shut as you remembered what you did next. "I shot him. No questions. No comments or concerns. I pulled my side arm out and shot him point blank. I did the same to the driver and the third person on their team."

"Then you freed the kids."

"Then I let them out, yeah. I want to say that this was a one time thing and I didn't dig into it deeper, but I did. I contacted Internal Affairs and they did an investigation. Do you want to know what they found?" 

"What?"

"That there was an entire child ring going through our government," you spat in disgust. "Elite officials would contact someone within the patrol squads to go into active rebel areas, kill everyone, and take the children. Then they'd…it was horrible. I thought those responsible would see justice and be imprisoned, but nobody was. The lower level guys were jailed, but not the ones above them. Those people received no consequence at all. Not even after the news came out about it. Nobody was punished. They were let go."

"Republic Justice only applies to the poor," Hongjoong said, "Not the ones meant to uphold it." 

"I was disgusted. I'd sworn an oath to uphold and defend the laws put in place by the Republic," you replied. "I swore to protect and serve the people of this country. I bled, I fought, and I killed for this nation, and then to turn around and see the people who made those same oaths breaking them. It made me question myself, and I hate that." 

"I know what you mean," he said. "That's how I felt when I saw Republic soldiers shooting wounded people coming out of a burning hospital.”

Your eyes glanced at the clock in the room. It’d been ten minutes already. 

“You’re not a bad person, YN,” he said. “Even I know what you did in that little border town. You saved those people-”

“-I didn’t,” you cut him off. “I came way too late to do anything meaningful-”

“-Your little heroic act opened up people’s eyes to what’s going on outside the walls,” he said. 

“People only know about it because a journalist happened to capture it live.” 

“The things you’ve done since then prove you’re not a bad person,” he said. “The people of the Republic respect and admire you because you genuinely care about them. You see injustice being done and stop it, rather than leave it be. How many of your comrades will say they would’ve done what you did? Not many.” He let your words hang between you, and he finished his donut. “Did they punish you for shooting the guy?”

“No,” you said. “They gave me a medal.”

He snorted, “For killing one of your own?”

“They deemed the squad who did it as war criminals, and said that’s the Republic’s justice at work,” you sighed, shaking your head. “The Republic’s Justice…What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means killing people who don’t comply with their rules or make them look bad,” he said. "It means covering up their tracks, inventing stories and intimidating people into silence."

“I should’ve gon-” 

You stopped yourself before the words fully came out. Hongjoong and you both stared at one another. You wouldn’t tell him about all the nights you envisioned having followed him, and being together. “I wish you had too,” he said softly, “But then we’d both be dying and I don’t want that.”

“Even after everything?”

“I never wanted you dead, YN. I still don’t, even if you want me dead-”

“-I was only following orders-”

“Then why didn’t you kill me?”

You hesitated. 

“When you found me in the lower deck of my ship-”

“-Is it really a ‘ship’ if it’s on land?-

“-You could’ve shot me on sight,” he pressed on. “You could’ve put a rain of bullets through me, and made up a story afterwards. I wasn’t armed. I wasn’t threatening you. I didn’t put up a fight. Killing me right then would’ve been the easiest part of your day, but when you burst into that room with your rifle trained on me, you didn’t pull the trigger.”

“They ordered me to bring you in alive, and despite my own morals, I follow instructions,” you excused, though this wasn’t true and he knew it. 

“It’s pointless to lie to a dead man,” he told you. “If you were only following orders, why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance? Hm? You know that there's the high possibility I'll escape or that my public execution could stir up more trouble outside. You can tell anyone who would listen that you’re just doing your job, and you can pretend you’re a loyalist all you want, but you and I both know the real reason you didn’t shoot me.” He pushed the donut box aside and came right up to the glass. The hostility and animosity of the previous minutes softened, making you fall into his big brown eyes like you used to. “And they know it too,” he whispered. “Don’t go to the parade.” 

His sudden warning threw you off. “What?” 

“Don’t go," he pleaded. "Please. Promi-”

“-Time’s up, Lieutenant.” 

“I love y-”

A large hand gripped your arm to pull you up. Your eyes remained focused on Hongjoong. What did he mean? Sudden dread and fear filled your bones. Hongjoong didn’t say anything else, but you saw the tears pooling in his eyes as the soldier pulled you through the chamber door. What was going to happen at the parade? A possible jailbreak could be the only explanation. Perhaps Hongjoong coordinated his capture so that he’d be in the Pyramid, where his forces could strike an assault on the city. He doesn’t want you to be there when the fighting starts, but if he thinks you’ll sit by while it happens, he’s clearly forgotten a lot about you. The soldier roughly pushed you from the main room and back out into the hallway. You gave him one last glare before heading back to the elevator. If Hongjoong’s crew intended to sabotage the parade in any way, people needed to be warned. You tapped the ‘call’ button on your watch, which linked to your ear implant right away. 

“Lieutenant,” Shin’s voice came over the line, “The parade is gonna start soon, and I'd like to go over routes before-"

"-How many men do we have on the street?"

"Pardon?"

"How many men are currently on patrol?"

"A hundred or so," he said. "Why?"

"The Pirates are going to be there," you said, punching the ground level button with your fist. Anxiousness sparked the nerves already wiring your body. You watched the numbers begin to climb slowly. "Kim just as good as told me himself. I don't know where they're going to be or what their plan is, but I want those men armed and ready."

"Hold on," it was Boggs, "We're fighting?"

"-Boggs!-"

"-I'm not sure," you continued, impatiently watching the elevator rise from the ground. “I don’t know anything for certain, but I want firepower on the ground.”

“The General said he didn’t want any guns,” Shin managed to gain control of the communicator again. You heard Bogg’s deep voice somewhere in the background, “We’d be defying direct orders.”

“He’ll understand once I explain it,” you said.

Your mind began moving a million miles a minute. You addressed your wrist band and scanned around for the map application. A map of the city projected from the small screen. You saw red lines going through the parade route, lines you yourself drew up. “Captain,” you called Shin, “I want squads one through five scanning the rooftops, and squads six through nine sweeping the buildings. Ten, eleven, and twelve can stick to the city center, and thirteen can surround The President’s car.” 

“I’ll get right on it, sir,” Shin replied. 

You heard a bit of commotion and grunting before Bogg’s voice came through. “Lieutenant, what do you need from me?”

“Contact the armory and get on the radio channel,” you said, “Tell everyone the news and start getting them geared up.” 

“-Damnit, Boggs! Give me my communicator!-

“-And then I want you and Shin to meet me here at the Pyramid,” you told him. “If The Pirates are in the city,” the elevator finally reached the ground floor, “One or two of them are likely to be on the route from here to the city center.” 

“You got it, sir,” Boggs confirmed. “Want me to alert Sunmi?” 

“She's not in fighting condition. Get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” 

You both hung up and pressed the top floor button. Dialing another number in your wristband, you waited until the person answered. 

“General Bok Kyungmin’s office, Jalissa speaking,” said a melodic woman’s voice. 

“Jalissa, this is Lieutenant Hwang YN,” you told her, “Is General Bok still there?”

“He is, Lieutenant. Would you like me to patch you through to him?”

“As soon as you can, please.”

“One minute, please.” 

You curled your hand into a fist to stop it from shaking. Hongjoong's warning rang in your head. If it was an attack, his warning sounded odd. The pitch. The inflection. The way his eyes watered when he whispered it to you. It didn't sound like a threat or an amused warning. He didn't want you to go there. Hongjoong protected you, of course, but he never tried stopping you. He'd go with you. He’d strap on his own weapon to give you cover. Hongjoong, this time, did not want you in the way. 

"Lieutenant Hwang," General Bok's raspy voice sounded in your ear, "I just heard your man Boggs over the radio. Is this threat legitimate?"

"I'm afraid it is, sir."

You explained to him that you'd obliged Hongjoong’s last request for a meeting and what he'd told you. Bok listened without interrupting, but you sensed the apprehension on the other end. You told him the plans you put into motion, and your suspicions. 

"I figure it is better to be safe than sorry, sir," you finished, standing outside and scanning the area for Boggs and Shin. "If The Pirates are here, whatever plans they have could impact hundreds. I say we issue an evacuation plan."

"No," he said abruptly. "To evacuate at this stage will let them know we're onto them. This might be our best chance at capturing the rest of them."

"Sir, there will be civilians on the street," you said, stunned by his words. "I think we should be trying to avoid as few casualties as we can. If they have bombs, sir, they will kill hundreds."

"And send everyone into a panic?" He said. "There will be hysteria in the streets if we start an evacuation. Keep this news as down low as possible. We don’t want a riot on our hands. Stay at Kim’s side and don’t take your eyes off him.”

“But, sir-”

“-That’s an order, Lieutenant.”

And you always follow orders. “Yes, sir,” you said defeatedly. 

“You and the rest of your team go to the Containment exit and escort Kim to the city center,” he said next. “I will meet you there.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He hung up without another word, and you moved into action. The exit for Containment was located behind The Pyramid, in a closed off section that required special permission to pass through. You pressed your badge to the gate, and walked through into a garage of black armored vans and trucks. You relaid the General's instructions to Shin as you found the Containment garage entrance; you told them you'd meet them at the city center instead. Going to an emergency cage, you unlocked the gate and pulled out one of the automatic rifles lined up. Clicking on the magazine, you double checked the safety button, and then slung it over your shoulder. You kept your side arm attached to your thigh, so you only checked the clip for bullets. Your foot tapped as you waited for Hongjoong’s truck; his warning came back to you. Coupled with the General's odd orders, you couldn't stop the unsettlement poking at your nerves. 

The elevator doors from the Containment Center opened, and you saw Hongjoong, wrists and ankles chained together, surrounded by four soldiers dressed in black uniforms. You would've thought they were twins with their long bodies and height. They kept their visors down, and guns to their chests. They must've been ordered to shoot-to-kill if Hongjoong tried escaping. Turning around, you faced the two soldiers from earlier. They gave each other a glance at the sight of you, looked at Hongjoong behind them, and then back at you. 

"At ease, soldiers," you told them, "General Bok has instructed me to accompany your escort team."

"That isn't necessary, Lieutenant," one of them said. "We can handle him from here."

"I'm not asking," you said a bit firmly. "Let's get him loaded in and move out." When they didn't react, you glared, "I said 'move out', soldiers."

They all exited the elevator and you walked beside Hongjoong. 

"What are you doing here?" He asked, unbothered by the soldiers around you both. 

"What a Lieutenant is supposed to do when a rebel terrorist warns them of an attack," you answered. "I informed my superiors and put safety precautions in place." 

You reached the Containment truck. The President had this truck especially made for prisoners heading for their execution. The size of the usual large vans, the back of the truck is made of shatter-proof glass lined with steel borders. Only the prisoner is meant to be loaded in there with two guards. You intended on being one of them. His men will come for him, and you'd be ready if they did. The two soldiers went to the front seats, while you loaded Hongjoong into the glass cage. Sitting across from one another, your back to the front driver's seat and his to the back doors, you two were once again alone. 

"You shouldn't be here," Hongjoong said. "I told you not to come."

"If you think I'm going to let your little pirate friends attack this city," you said, "You've clearly forgotten things about me."

"That's not what I was talking about," he leaned in closer to you. “They’re planning to kill you.” 

Once upon a time, you would’ve scoffed and brushed him off. Yet, after seeing how the Republic handles ‘problems’, you hesitated before speaking. “You’re lying,” you decided. “You’re trying to throw me off, and it’s not going to work.”

“When have I ever lied to you, YN?” he asked you, eyes pleading with you. “Your friend, Jisung? The one who died in that factory explosion?” 

You glared, “What about him?”

“The intel you received about that place wasn’t real,” he said. “We were never there. They told you to go there because they hoped you’d die in the explosion they set up.”

You thought back to the factory, a building made of stone and wood, full of plastic and wooden crates and barrels of hazardous chemicals. Back then, you simply thought whoever owned the factory left behind the materials. Yet, truly digging into your mind, you never heard of a business not completely gutting out their factories or warehouses. They might have abandoned equipment, but not materials, especially expensive and rare ones. Then, you recalled the little click and thump that happened seconds before the explosions. You remembered Boggs telling you about the person he’d seen. 

“You blew up that factory,” you said, frozen in place in your seat. You hardly noticed the truck reaching the gates. 

“You really think I did that?” he sneered at you. “My crew might be known for blowing stuff up, but we don’t do it pointlessly. If I bomb a place, it’s for a specific reason. It’s to make a statement. We had no reason to light up that factory. It was in the middle of nowhere, abandoned, and useless to anyone but the homeless. We would’ve wasted our resources blowing it up.” He paused, “He wasn’t the target. The building wasn’t the target. You were.”

He let the words hang between you for a few seconds before the truck stopped at the main gate. He must be lying. 

“I’m sure they didn’t mean for your comrade to die, but these things happen in war.” 

He never lied to you. Not a single time. No matter which side you move to, Hongjoong never lies. Meanwhile, your government lied countless times. You didn’t want to show him any uncertainty. The clear truck finally made its way onto the streets where people lined the sidewalks. Several of them saw Hongjoong, and you saw the hard glares and the objects they threw at him as it passed. You heard muffled jeers through the glass, people thankful that he is going to the noose. Yet you couldn’t help notice the few people who recognized you sitting in there with him. They waved their Republic flags, beamed brightly at you and called out your name. Students from Prestige Academy still in their crisp white uniforms, jumped up and down to get a tiny nod from you. Your heart fell into your stomach. They had no idea. 

“They love you more than they hate me,” Hongjoong smiled slyly. “I wonder why that is?”

“Shut up,” you said quietly. 

“Could it be that they see you as a hero?-”

“-I said ‘shut up’, inmate-”

“-That they see you as someone who gets things done?-”

“-What part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?-”

“-Unlike our president who sits back and does nothing to help his suffering people? The same president who sat by as officers violated and abused innocent children? The same man who did nothing to punish those responsible for dozens of raids on border towns where innocent women, children and men were slaughtered like animals?” He leaned forward, eyes locked on you. “The person whose reputation you tarnished when you shot those soldiers?”

It made sense. You hated to admit what Hongjoong said could be plausible. You’ve seen what happens to those deemed enemies of the state. You watched several executions of people who may have shed a bad light on the president specifically. A lieutenant who uncovered disturbing, disgusting truths about him and his officials could very much be next. But why didn’t he simply have you arrested? The answer came to you through the people on the street. A woman on the street holding a magazine with your whole face on it told you why. She held your face. Not Yoon’s. You thought of the vendor from this morning. 

‘You’ve done a lot more for people than Yoon for sure.’ 

“He’s in his mansion,” Hongjoong continued, “Gorging himself on delicacies that people could only dream of eating. He throws these grand parties at his home while people all around him struggle to put shoes on their kids’ feet. He could stop this war at any point; he could call a cease-fire and discuss negotiations with the leaders, but no. He lets it continue because he’s secretly being paid by war profiteers who are reaping the benefits of this ongoing war. He doesn’t care about the poor. He only cares about the rich,” he then said, “The people saw you defend those who needed you, and they saw that their leaders wouldn’t do the same. You wouldn’t use their hard earned tax money to have all this fan fare over an execution. You’d put a bullet in my head and call it a day.”

“It’d be cheaper, for sure.” 

“Do you read the papers at all?” he asked. 

“I’m not always near a newsstand.”

“President Yoon’s public approval went down by 15-points when the news about the kids came out, and when people saw nothing was being done,” he said. “It went down even further when people learned what was going on in the sectors outside of here. People saw him doing nothing about it, and lost trust in him.” He gazed over your face, eyes landing on your lips before going to your eyes, “They saw you at those border towns, giving food to starving kids, and saw someone who can be a leader.”

“I’m not a leader.”

“Yes, you are, and they don’t like that.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you said. “You’re trying to get me off my game. You’re using this to distract me so when your men show up, I’m not fully aware of it.” 

“You know I’m telling the truth,” he said. 

“Where did you even get this information?” you asked irritably. 

“Yeosang came upon it a few weeks ago,” he replied. “When he hacked into the intelligence main frame in hopes of finding plans for the new bombs your people are building. He found a locked file, and being nosey, he broke into it to find a list of people labeled as ‘person of interest’. He found that the Intelligence Division had been tasked with keeping surveillance on certain people: politicians who spoke out against the Republic, billionaires who they’d bribed into supporting the cause, and people suspected of working for the rebellion. He cross checked that list with the names of people who died under ‘mysterious circumstances’, and a good chunk of them are dead now. Poisonings, accidents, and unsolved murders were a common theme.” He paused, looking over your face once more, “Your name was on there, YN. It’s why I came here. You have shown your distaste at the Republic, and there’s a strong likelihood you’ll join the rebel cause. If you do, you’ll have all the information we’d need to defeat them.” He saw your hesitation, and said, “You know they’re corrupt enough to do it.”

It sounded too coincidental. It sounded like the sort of thing an enemy would come up with to distract you. Yet, was Hongjoong truly an enemy? A real enemy wouldn’t give away his own jailbreak. Had you captured any other rebel leader, they wouldn’t be with you right now. As the truck went up the street, you considered his words again. 

Boggs mentioned seeing someone throwing the grenade into a window seconds before the explosion. If they wanted to go unnoticed, they’d wear all black to blend in with the night. You remembered the factory again. Most rebel hideouts showed signs of someone having lived there: sleeping bags, empty food cans, tables and chalkboards with photos and maps taped on them. The factory really looked empty with old cobwebs and dusty floors. Only chemical barrels remained behind in the rusty factory. But, were they really abandoned there or did someone place them there? You’re not sure. 

“You’re not a stupid woman, YN,” Hongjoong said. “They would’ve asked you to escort me to the platform, so then they can shoot you and blame me for it.” You saw his face become hard, holding back whatever emotions swelled up inside him. “That’s what they told you when you radioed in, right?”

And you always follow orders. 

Except the times you did not; the two times where you broke your oaths to The Republic and shot your ‘brothers in arms’. You’d indirectly and unintentionally exposed the corruption and perversion infecting your government. By releasing those children and liberating that town, you showed that you took your oath to ‘protect and serve’ seriously, while those above you did not. You turned back to the street where more people jeered at Hongjoong and cheered for you. 

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because they can’t hear us here. They think you won’t believe me, which is why you're here.”

Because you always follow orders. 

Your superiors believe you’re a blissfully ignorant soldier who does what they say without question. Yet, lately you’ve been proving them wrong and they can’t have that. You tried thinking of all the ways that he could be lying, but another fact always contradicted the first. 

“Be vigilant when we step out of this truck,” he said. “Wooyoung isn’t the only sniper up high.”

“How do I know he won’t shoot me and let someone else take the blame?”

“Because he isn’t a snake like them. He has his reasons for joining us, and for wanting to help rescue you.”

“Like what?”

“It’s not my story to tell.” 

The truck drove through into the city center. A large roundabout circling a golden fountain, you leaned against the window to see three beautiful statues: one was a woman with a blindfold holding two scales to signify The Republic’s blind justice; the third was a soldier crossing two swords over his head to signify the Republic’s strength and force, and the third was an androgynous figure holding a dove on their finger which signified the Republic's peace and prosperity. Three things that the Republic no longer had: peace, justice or strength. At the end of the motorcade stood Republic Hall, the courthouse and city hall combined. Standing up tall and made of white marble, you remembered you and Hongjoong receiving your graduation papers on the front steps. You’d both made your vows there like every other official did. Only difference is that you both upheld your promises. 

“I solemnly swear to uphold the justice, peace and strength of The People’s Republic,” Hongjoong said softly. “I wonder which one of us actually meant that when they said it: us or them?” 

The crowds here thickened throughout the morning, so people stood right up against the barricades keeping them off the street. Your chest filled with dread realizing they all stood underneath very tall stone buildings. If Hongjoong’s men have planted any explosives, they’ll be in those buildings and the people below will be casualties. You’d wanted to evacuate but The General disagreed. Why would he do that? These people have no part in his war on the rebellion. They shouldn’t be there. It didn’t matter how many uniforms carried weapons now; they’ll all be caught in the crossfires. The people standing on their balconies and hanging out of their windows will get the worst of it, since they’ll likely be closest to the explosions. You noticed, though, the amount of unoccupied windows. Their curtains drawn, they showed no signs of life behind their frames. People watching on television? Why watch on the television when it’s  happening right outside their window? You envisioned Jung Wooyoung, a member of the sniper division, sitting behind one of them with his rifle trained right on you. But, right behind that came the vision of a faceless, nameless Republic sniper who is also only obeying his orders. 

These pictures made every nerve in your body sink into adrenaline. Fight mode. No flight. Always fight. 

The truck eventually stopped right at the steps of the building. Standing in front of them was a wooden platform a crew constructed overnight. A basic gallows with the Republic flag hanging behind it, a singular noose hung from the rafters above a trap door. The young girl still in love wanted to reach for him. She wanted to hug and kiss him deeply one last time. She wanted to confess everything she felt, and how sorry and stupid she was. Your eyes met his as the truck came to a complete stop. 

“I don’t want you to die,” you said quietly, as if the universe might hear you and hasten his end. 

“I don’t want you to die either,” he said solemnly. “I love you, YN. I always have. I still do. I don’t think I’m incapable of loving you, even if you chop off my hand.”

“To be fair, you blew up half my face and crippled my leg.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you either. I thought I was…” the words died in your throat. “I…” you squeezed your good eye shut, “You shouldn’t love me.” 

“But I do.”

“Why?”

You saw the two soldiers climb out of the truck. “Because even when we both went for blood, grappling and fighting one another, I still missed you. I missed you in my bones, love.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.”

“But you shouldn’t,” you said through gritted teeth, your mouth going dry and throat closing up. 

“You’re not a bad person, YN. You just work for bad people. You’re still that girl who used to feed stray cats, give money to the homeless, and always tried to do the right thing despite what other people said. You’re a good person.” 

You saw them rounding to the back of the truck.

“I’m not that person anymore.”

“She’s in there. I know she is.”

“And she’s a fool,” you spat back at him, tears burning your eyes. No, you can’t cry now. “A fool who believed in the goodness of people; who believed that at the end of the day, justice prevailed. She thought she was fighting for the right side. The good side. There is no good side in a war-” they reached the back doors and stood to open them, “-Just a lesser of two evils.”

The roaring crowd finally reached your ears as the doors opened. You jumped out before anyone noticed your face, and stood aside for Hongjoong to be guided onto the pavement. You didn’t want to think anymore about what Kim Hongjoong feels for you. It only made your job harder. You couldn’t be distracted right now. Tapping your earpiece, the normal vision on your bionic eye changed to the infrared vision. It picked up the yellows, reds and orange heat of the people on the ground, but your eye swiveled away from them to the buildings above. You saw more figures blocking the view, but your eye stayed on the empty ones. Your good eyes searched for Shin and Boggs, who’d you’d told to meet you here. Perhaps they’d been held up. 

Or worse. 

Once the soldiers cuffed him again, doing their best not to tighten around his metal hand, you all began walking to the platform. There, you saw three people seated behind a podium to the left of the noose right by a set of stairs. General Bok sat farthest from the stairs, whipping his head away when he spotted you approaching; Vice President Han, a portly man with a shiny bald head and small thin-rimmed glasses on his long nose, and President Yoon. President Yoon was a tall, narrow man with thinning black hair and tight tanned skin. The plastic surgery often popular in the city showed in his thin nose bridge and puffy lips. You realized then that you hated him. Innocent children were trafficked and sold into sex slavery, and he didn’t seek justice because they were not Republic children. If anything, he benefited from it or took part in it. To him, the people in the sectors are not human, and should be treated as such. They are not important. They do not matter. What kind of president does that? Like Hongjoong said, he could stop the war at any time, yet insists it’s important that it continues. It is destroying his country, and he doesn’t care because it is not affecting him personally. The idea of this man having a hit list didn’t sound entirely off base. The two men with her were no better. 

You took your position at the bottom of the staircase, gun at your chest and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Your squadmates still remained missing. Shin told you they’d been around the city center. Your infrared vision did not pick up anyone in the buildings or roofs above. Then, someone called out to you:

“Lieutenant Hwang, please come up here and join us.”

Yoon had spoken, and he stared at you with a friendly smile. It felt as if someone filled your insides with snow. 

“Me, sir?”

“Yes,” he nodded, beckoning you up the steps. When you shakily reached the landing, he said, “I’d like you to be here with us,” he said, “You are responsible for The Pirate King’s capture and incarceration. I think it’s only right that you share some of the spotlight.”

“I was only doing my job, sir. I didn’t do it for any glory or-”

“-Like Bok said,” he laughed, “Modest until the end. Come. Don’t be shy.” 

He guided you to a spot a few feet behind him. You glanced over to Bok, who did not meet your eyes. Coward. If he is in on this assassination attempt, the least he can do is look at you. 

The soldiers walked Hongjoong across the stage, and your eyes met his. You noticed his watered with tears, even if he kept his composure and defiance up to the very end. Your own eye teared up again. Every laugh, every cry, every success and failure together flashed before you. The boy who loved glazed donuts and coffee, who wrote songs and loved music, was walking to his death because of you. You brought him here. You hunted him like a dog because the men around you said so. And how trustworthy are they? You watched them walk him right underneath the hanging noose. Your eyes stayed on him. You wanted to put every piece of him to memory before you lose it forever: the blue hair he genetically implanted to look cool, the perfect proportions of his body, the several piercings he had, and his bionic hand. Yeosang and Mingi did quite a job on it. You saw blinking lights right around the vital signs to keep track of his heartbeat which remained steady. 

“Welcome, citizens of The Republic,” Yoon began his speech, his voice booming over the cheering crowd. “I thank you all for being here with us as we celebrate this triumphant day. This day will be marked in history as the beginning of the end of our struggles-”

You remember when those hands used to expertly disassemble and assemble rifles in record time. They were capable of pain and pleasure in equal amounts. You missed them. You missed him. Perhaps you’ll join Boggs and resign from command. You don’t want to do this anymore. You don’t want to live in anguish forever. You then noticed his middle finger bouncing in his palm. Your bionic eye is still searching the buildings, your good eye focused on the finger. What was he doing?

“-The outlaw you see standing before you is a man who has-”

A blue light began blinking in a series of spaces and dots. Morse code. Your wristband went off in your ear, and you chanced a glance at the screen. A message from Unknown came through. Without tapping it, the message opened on its own. 

‘Apartment building on your left, fourth floor, third window from the corner.’ 

Infrared vision showed nobody there. You should’ve known. They’d wear reflective gear to conceal themselves. Zooming in on the window in question, you spotted a shadow behind the frilly white curtains. The incoming breeze made them billow inwards and the sniper had trouble hiding behind the window sill. You saw them. They wore the skull cap and mask of a sniper. You couldn’t let them know you’d seen them, otherwise they’ll abort the mission. 

“-Kim Hongjoong, you stand convicted of high treason,” said Yoon, “Piracy, destruction of Republic property, murder-”

Staring into the crowd, you saw him. Short and slight, a young delivery man kept his bike parked on the sidewalk against a brick wall. You recognized him from earlier in the day, the delivery boy who had the newspaper printed on the side of his bike. Though now he’d removed his helmet to show a mop of black hair curtaining a pale, handsome face. Kang Yeosang’s apologetic eyes met yours as you spotted something in his hand. You recalled the man from his days serving the Republic. He’d been part of the squad who defected at the hospital bombing. His skills with technology were only outmatched by Shin, who helped build the Pyramid’s firewalls and security systems. Your eye zoomed in on his hand, which you just made out through the crowd of people. You realized what it was right away. You shook your head at him. 

But, the blast did not happen in the street. The explosions came from far off in this distance. One large one that shook the very ground you stood on, followed by several more. Right at the same time, you saw several people in the crowd withdraw weapons from under shirts and jackets, and aimed fire at the officers on the ground. Your body swung into action. Pushing Yoon aside, you fired at the fighters on the sidewalks, using your eye as a scope to hit the right targets. Bullets punctured through the wooden stilts holding up the stage, blowing past you and the others on stage. 

“Evacuate the street!” you shouted, finding cover behind the President’s podium, “Set evacuation plans in order-”

“-That’s not my order, Lieutenant-” said General Bok, who’d taken out his own pistol to fire back, “-Negate tha-”

“-Get as many people down the street as you can,” you said over the radio, “We need to reduce the civilian casualties-”

“-Lieutenant,” Bok gave you a stern warning, and you glared back. 

You started giving orders through your earpiece, and watched all of them moving into action right away.  More explosions came from your left, and you realized they’d blown up the Pyramid.  But how? The two delivery men at the elevator. They had several long boxes with them that you thought to be donuts. You remembered Hongjoong’s reluctance to eat them you gave him, and it clicked instantly. The Pirates just destroyed communications, ammunition, artillery, and any support the Republic had left. You tapped your earpiece multiple times, hoping to get a radio through, but you were met with dead silence. 

“YN!” 

Hongjoong and the bullet reached you at the same time. Your enhanced ear caught the whizz of the bullet that would’ve struck your face had Hongjoong not pushed you down. It’d come from the direction of the apartment building. You don’t know how you know, but deep down you did. Using both hands, Hongjoong pulled down the wooden podium to shield you both from more gunfire. In the midst of the chaos, he must’ve broken free of his bonds. His face inches from yours, he said:

“Do you trust me?” 

Your brain couldn’t process his words. It could only comprehend your racing heart and need to get away and find your squadmates. 

“YN,” he said more forcefully, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” 

It came out in a single breath. You said it without thinking, and this time you didn’t take it back. The rush of wind came through next as a whooshing sound came overhead. Yoon and the other officials might not recognize the Valiant, but you and Hongjoong did. A metal hovercraft built with the fragments of wrecked Republic ships, the Valiant was various shades of black, white and gray. Hongjoong and his crew truly leaned into their ‘pirate’ nickname by molding their aircraft like the old pirate ships. The engine caused surges of hot air to blow through the streets, blowing people back onto the street. It lowered down above the gallows, and the hull opened to reveal two people standing there: Choi San and Choi Jongho. San still wore the delivery man uniform, while Jongho wore a Republic guard uniform. Officer Kwang. You should’ve known when you didn’t recognize him. They threw down a rope ladder, and Hongjoong took your hand. 

“I can’t,” you told him. “Not without my crew.”

“You can contact them later,” he said, quickly grabbing the ladder and bringing you over to it. “Start climbing. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Hongjoong-”

“-Go!” 

He took your rifle from you, aiming it towards the guards coming up the stairs. You put your foot on the first ring and started to climb. That’s when the second bullet went past you. Then a third. Then a fourth. The sniper clearly planned to carry out their mission regardless. A cold sweat went over your whole body, causing your hands to slip on the slim rope, but you kept climbing. The wavering ladder made you a moving target, and the sniper isn’t that good. You looked down at the halfway point to see Hongjoong still on the ground. You called out to him, but he didn’t hear you over the wind and gunfire. It’d been at that moment that a deep pain shot through your body from your leg. The sniper’s tenth bullet found home in your shin, having broken the skin and lodged into the bone. You thought your entire leg went numb, only feeling the searing pain every time you lifted your leg. You gritted through the pain, continuing your climb. You need to get to the top, to safety, to where you can defend Hongjoong the best. 

Another bullet sailed through the air into the back of your right shoulder. A lucky shot that burned in every pull upwards. You kept going. You did not stop or look around. The rushing winds made you deaf to anything anyone said to you. Your left ear picked up muffled sounds and static, which irritated what little bit of eardrum left inside. Then a third bullet caught you right when you reached the ramp several feet above the stage. 

“Fuck!” 

You screamed in agony as a bullet grazed your earpiece. Thick streams of blood wet the side of your face, and white noise filled your damaged ear before going silent completely. You felt the cartilage of your left ear as Jongho dragged you away from the edge; your finger went right through the split skin and it burned further. Your good ear-now truthfully good-only picked up the howling winds coming from ahead of you. The newest wound paralyzed the whole left side of your face. You could feel the mechanical ear malfunctioning still, clicking and shooting pain into your brain. The pain spread quickly to your eye, which started seeing static. Both enhancements connected together, one began malfunctioning once the other cut off. You felt blood atarting to seep from under the eye piece, and your chest tightened again. 

“Hongjoong,” you huffed, doing your best to hold back the agonizing pain in your ear. You felt shocks of pain spark every time you opened your mouth, and you couldn’t help pressing a hand to stop it. “Hongjoong….”

“He’s on his way,” Jongho said. “Sit down. Let me see your ear.” He checked your severed ear and he winced, “Damn, that looks bad. Here, put this there and hold it. Yeosang could fix you up really quick.” 

You took the rag from nearby and pressed it to your ear. However, the pain didn’t mask your concern for Hongjoong. One by one, his crew began appearing from the ladder: tall black-haired Jeong Yunho, who immediately rushed for the cockpit at the front of the ship; handsome Park Seonghwa, who grabbed a weapon from the rack and started firing down below; slender Jung Wooyoung who put down his tripod bag and knelt down to aim his sniper rifle into the buildings around the center; pink-haired Song Mingi, the one likely responsible for the explosions, who still wore his delivery man uniform, and Kang Yeosang in his delivery boy jacket. He spotted you grunting and doubled over in pain, and rushed over to you. 

“My…ear,” you growled, not wanting to remove the rag from the wound but also not wanting to press down. “It’s…broken….I think.”

“Come on,” he took you by the arm, “Let’s get you to the medical bay-”

“-But…Hongjoong-”

“-Hongjoong would want you to think about your damaged ear,” he said, ignoring your request and pulling you further into the ship. 

Your wounds made it hard to walk. You stumbled and fell into a wall before someone came up on your left side. Hongjoong. You knew it from the flash of blue you saw in a reflection. He said something, but you couldn’t hear him. Every muscle in your body went limp as your brain registered the sterile, silent infirmary in the ship’s second level. Yeosang and Hongjoong rested you on a metal slab, the bright light above you stinging your eyes and the hard metal being hard on your aching bones. 

“Just relax, Lieutenant,” said Yeosang, who went to work with a bottle and syringe, “You’ll be fine in a few seconds.”

“Hon-Hong-Jo-oo-ng-” you forced yourself to say through a loosening jaw. Any mechanics keeping your jaw straight now malfuctioned, making it nearly impossible to speak. 

“I’m right here, YN. I’m right here,” he shielded you from the bright lights above. His eyes full of panic and concern, he cupped your face and pecked your lips. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

“Hon-” 

A sharp pinch to your vein interrupted you. Morphine. Ulta-Morphine from the look of the aquamarine liquid filling the tube and going into your arm. The needle’s sting did not even register with the rest of the pain you felt. You took deep breaths, trying to steady your heart. You kept your eye on Hongjoong, unable to care or think about anything else. 

“I-I…” 

The right side of your jaw slackened, and you lost the ability to speak at all. “It’s okay,” Hongjoong said, “You don’t have to talk. Just rest, okay? Yeosang is going to fix it.”

He didn’t understand. You lifted a hand to his face, despite the burning pain in your shoulder, and he pressed it to his cheek. A sharp metallic taste filled your mouth, and you turned your head to spit it out. Everything hurts, but you needed him to know. You needed to tell him before it all ended. 

“Lo-Lov-ve-e yo-o-”

“I know,” he sniffed, kissing the top of your head. “I know.”

He did it all for you. He risked his life to save you. Even when you both fought and maimed each other, your love never waivered. The morphine finally hit your body, and all pain alleviated at once. Slowly, Hongjoong’s face faded to black. 

 ****

“Will you be able to fix it, Yeosang? It’s gonna heal, right?”

“I fixed the eye with no real problems, but the ear is lost. The bullet went right through the cybernetic pieces around it when it slashed her ear, so the whole piece short circuited and bursted in the canal. She’s lucky we got to it in time. It could’ve made her brain dead.” 

“Alright, but will she be okay, Yeosang?” 

“She’s stable now, but the ear will take time to heal completely. Once that’s happened, I can refit her with a new enhancement. I don’t feel safe doing it until it’s healed.” 

Hongjoong stayed beside the medical bed, watching a medical droid carefully changing the bandage around your head. It took a few hours for Yeosang and his assistant droid to patch you up, but you made it. They had to shave half of it to access the pieces attached to your skull. Yeosang and the medical droid managed to remove and patch up your bullet wounds, but your bionic pieces concerned him the most. He held your hand gently in his, kissing your knuckles. It’d been so long since he touched you this way. He remembered the days when he took any chance he could to touch you, whether hand holding or brushing hair from your face. He always had this need to feel some part of you; as if he needed to be sure he hadn't dreamed of you. Now, he had to wait until you’d become unconscious to hold your hand. 

"You must love her a lot," he heard Yeosang say, fixing up an IV next to your bed. "To risk getting executed for her."

"I do."

Yeosang didn't question his feelings for you like some of his crew members. He understood it better, perhaps, seeing as he'd defected like Hongjoong did. He'd been one of the physicians in his unit, and Hongjoong recalled him saving people from the hospital fire. Yeosang dragged them to safety, bringing them to a camp where rebel physicians worked on them without interference. He had people on the Republic side whom he loved, and would do anything to get back, if he could. 

"They'll blame it on her," he said to Hongjoong next. "They'll say she helped you and brand her a traitor."

"I know." He paused, "But they already thought that when she killed those men."

He'd heard about your heroic deeds through the channels. When he heard a loyalist lieutenant open fire on her fellow soldiers, he never thought it'd be you. He shouldn't have been surprised though. The Republic kept their citizens ignorant to the corruption and crime going on behind the scenes. They didn't know that their president was in the pockets of war profiteers and millionaires looking to cash in. They didn't know the things soldiers did to the people in the sectors, and how those people struggled to survive. They didn't know the fear, intimidation and pain with which the government used to hold power over them. You hadn't known, and you reacted far differently than he'd expected. When Kyungmin told Wooyoung a lady with one eye saved him and several other children, he questioned the boy further. When Jisoo tearfully explained to Seonghwa that a female soldier shot her captors at point blank, he needed to know more. 

It seemed he wasn't the only one who solved problems with bullets. 

Quick, heavy thumps made him turn around, and he saw Seonghwa standing in the doorway. He'd taken off his stolen Republic uniform, and wore a gray t-shirt over black pants and boots. Hongjoong noticed him panting and clutching the door frame. Soon, more footsteps came and Wooyoung and San appeared behind him.

"You need to turn on the TV," Seonghwa breathed, rushing to the monitor on the wall. "You need to see this. I can't believe it. They just announced it."

"Announced what?"

He turned on a monitor in the room where he saw the Republic news station covering the story. Lee Seojoon sat at her usual anchor desk, a solemn face despite her professional tone. 

"-At precisely two-forty-two this afternoon, President Yoon Byungho was pronounced dead. The fearless leader of the People's Republic received several severe gunshot wounds during the Victory Parade this morning. Republic law enforcements cannot say whether Kim Hongjoong, the rebel Pirate King, fired those fatal shots, but it is being investigated-"

"He's dead?" 

Hongjoong found this hard to believe. He knew he'd put a few bullets into the old man's back, but he hadn't seen him fall. His personal guards must've rushed him out of the battle and into the hospital. Hongjoong sat there imagining the man taking his final breaths and knowing he'd lost. The rebel leaders will soon hear of it, and plan an attack. The Vice president will no doubt take power, but he is weak compared to Yoon. They'd blown up their main command base and military center, and there is little resistance left in The Republic. It will fall and so will anyone who helped uphold it. 

He looked back at you, sleeping soundlessly in Ultra-Morphine Land. He had you back. He had you here with him again. He could protect you. You might not love him right away again, and things will never be how they once were, but you were in his life again.

That was the real victory. 

[straycalamities]

hello, you are cool, and I like your work! :) <3 I was just thinking 2012 tumblr didn't seem like it had many girl characters, due to everyone making spin-offs of the same ones like Once-ler. I was wondering if you have any girl OCs you'd use if you wrote a new zombie story in the future. =)

(btw keep up the good work and have a nice day!)

thank you very much!

and yes that is true, but also, well, by the time of thneedville/thornville high there were more people trying to make girl ocs but unfortunately the fandom was very overcritical and harsh on them

so it’s not only was it not the first thing people thought to do because of the nature of the fandom, but it became something that if you did do it, there was a lot of stress on you

you had to be better than most of the male askblog charas, you were judged harsher for your mistakes, you were just overall held to a higher expectation than any of the male blogs

my qpp knows this firsthand as they tried to run a girl askblog in that environment: nyx. and they were subject to a lot of bullying, unfair judgement, and other awful stuff while doing so. creating a female chara blog was signing yourself up to a subscription of anon hate

not only nyx but all the others as well at the time especially if you were to befriend or, heaven forbid, have romantic intentions with a male oc or one already involved in a favored mlm ship

like yes i also had mean-spirited people in my anon boxes time to time but it was nothing compared

sheep/quinn, a beloved from that time, anytime she’d ever interact with spook, would be subject to the nastiest messages guaranteed. i’m surprised her mod still wanted to have them interact. though it is worth noting they deactivated and remade that blog multiple times because of this

so yeah…while what you said is also true, this part is also a big factor and definitely needs to be brought up and recognized. it wasn’t so much that it was ALL people more interested in making and writing guys it was also the extra, important question of: Could you endure the constant hate if you made a girl blog?

there’s still an issue, to this day, of female blogs being pretty ignored and under-created, but id say the vicious environment that turned away a lot of people from doing so has calmed way down thankfully

but yes! uh when i was originally planning to make an original comic based off the camp entre run, i did, with my collaborators at the time, make some female ocs to add in as well as adjusted the gender of existing charas. though, that project is pretty much dead right now and needs an entire redo. but i still plan on …something one day. and yes there will be a way more accurate percentage in the genders present lmao 😭

i also have a plan for a new truffula flu story i’d like to tell that i was gonna use for…a thing, i mean i might still but branch it out more. but anyways it does focus around a young woman, my audrey oc Aoife :) i mean she’s become a lot more oc than audrey at this point but that’s how she started lmao

when i get the time to start that? uh. but it is something i wanna do at least maybe before the new year

i also thought about throwing Eren in because both of her main inspos are characters from apocalypses/dystopias so she’d fit right in

[gyllenhaalstories]

some presumed innocent word vomit <3

i wouldn't have survived these episodes without daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality 💖thank you for watching it with me, i had the absolute best time. i love you so much. this was absolutely insane, this was incredible. how are we supposed to wait for a whole week? i need rusty now!

THE FUCKING SEX SCENES? this is literal porn THE V LINE THE ASS THE GRUNTS THE THIGHS THE HANDS THE ASS THE EVERYTHING OH MY GOD THIS IS STRAIGHT UP PORN

dad!jake my beloved dad!jake i love you

omg rusty 🥺🥺🥺

RUSTY BEING THE FATHER???????????? BYE OH MY GOD i did not see this coming and he is such an IDIOT oh my fucking god

rusty is so pathetic he is so awful what a fucking loser who didn't have the balls to ask his wife to choke him a little and put a finger up his ass. BARBARA WOULD HAVE DONE IT

barbara is mommy rusty has mommy kink and i have mommy issues. dangerous.

SCREAMING WITH AND WITHOUT THE S

raymond. i love you raymond please don't die you're so old this is too much your heart is fragile pls check your blood pressure.

THE GLASSES THE GLASSES SO MUCH GLASSES OH MY GOD GLASSES

the bracelet the jewellery they're making that man sparkle sparkle I AM ENJOYING EVERY SECOND OF IT

i hate nico with a burning passion just shut the fuck up

i thought i liked tommy but he's just hot i hate him too

i hate carolyn she's shady as fuck i don't like her

can he fuck ME on the floor of his office instead??? ANYWHERE ANYTIME

oh my god the grunts

rusty 🥺

the angry outbursts!!! the crying!!! he is absolutely unhinged!!!

the vein acting. OOF.

the glasses in his collar in his shirt the glasses hanging by a button the glasses

rusty thinks he can 🥺 i'm sorry 🥺 his way through everything. he could with me. CHOOSE ME PICK ME LOVE ME STALK ME FUCK ME.

jake did this serious project so he could have fun in movies like road house so everyone who complained he should only and strictly do serious stuff better let him have all the silly little fun he wants after this. HE IS DELIVERING.

the andy barber & rusty sabich parallels write themselves these man are just two peas in a pod of lawless lawyers defending jacob i love you presumed innocent i love you

[plsdonttakemyname]

— — — — — — — — —

Characters; Nikolai Gogol

Genre; angst, hurt/comfort, scenario

Warnings; reader has family and friends problems, mental breakdowns, Bad writing. So please don't read it if you're uncomfortable with these. This might not make sense since this is my second time writing an angst , hurt comf and scenarios but I hope you enjoy it <3..

— — — — — — — — —

Knocking at the door of Nikolai's office with a tired look on your face as you walked in. You were greeted by Nikolai, your beloved boyfriend.

"Oh, hello dove. I was expecting to see you there. Would you mind to share a conversation?"

"I just wanna cry." Nikolai's eyes widened abit before speaking again. "Cry away Dove.. It's okay. Let go of your tears and let me hold you close. You know how much I care for you. I'll never leave you alone again." He said and kissed your forehead " Now come here, sit on my lap. I want to kiss you right now" he said with a smile on his face. "I love you so much Kolya, it's just things are getting more and more harder for me y'know.." You were really tired after studying for hours straight without any rest at all. "I know, baby. But don't worry. Everything will be alright. Just stay strong for me alright ?. We have each other, we can make it through anything together.I promise everything will work out just fine". He said as he holds your hand gently "I just I feel like I'm always not good enough, my friends and family doesn't even understand that I'm trying my best to make them happy.." you said as tears started to build up in your eyes.

"I'm trying my best Kolya. I really am. but none of them believed me. I got called a whore, spoiled and ungrateful. I don't know what to do anymore. I just feel like I wanna cry my heart out." You choked out a sob as soon as you finished the sentence "Oh, Dove... That sounds horrible. What happened?.. Tell me everything, please. Don't keep any secrets from me. I'm here for you. Always. And if anyone tries to hurt you or insult you, they won't get away with it. Not ever. Okay? Do you trust me Love?" He says as worries started to build up in his eyes and pulled you into a hug "yes I do trust you.. I'm studying really hard for college. my parents always told me to get off my phone and yelled at me when I'm clearly texting my project teacher about my work.This morning I got into an argument with my parents. They just slapped me because I talked back and I was trying to defend myself." You started crying while Nikolai is hugging you tightly on his lap.

"Oh Dear... You poor thing..That must've been awful. I wish I could protect you from these people who would do such terrible things to you. My love, you deserve better than this. If only..." He looks at the floor with sadness in his eyes "...if only I had done something sooner.." "All of my friends are just using me and talking behind my back I really don't know what to do anymore Kolya.I really don't. It just hurts." Your voice started to crack "I'm sorry Dove.. I should've known better than to think that those thing were worth trusting. They're nothing but troublemakers. They'd use you until you broke down completely. Then they'd laugh at you when you cried. They're disgusting creatures." He said while rubbing circles behind your back trying to calm you down "I wanna cry my feelings out but I'm really scared.." He hugged you tightly "It's okay, my love. Let it all out. Cry as loud as you need to. I'll hold onto you forever. No one else matters but us. Only us." He strokes your hair and gently tucking your hair behind your ear that was covering your face as he continued.

"You're safe with me.Never forget that. M'kay?" Your nodded and your sob slowly turning into small sniffles "Kolya?" You said his name after calming down abit. "Yes? What is it, my love?" He smiled warmly at you "Is there anything else bothering you besides your bullies,being treated badly by others or feeling worthless?" He takes his hands in yours and looks into your eyes lovingly "Tell me everything Dove."

"Am I annoying to you?.." You asked him as he laughs softly "Of course not, my love. Why would you ask such an absurd question? Of course not. You are absolutely adorable. The most beautiful person I have ever met. There isn't another person alive who compares to you. In fact, no other person even comes close besides you , Dos-kun and Sigma. You smiled at his response "I'm sorry for breaking down like this when you're busy... I just can't do this anymore I've been too stressed out lately." He kissed your forehead gently "Don't be sorry, my love. Just remember how much happier we are together. Remember how happy we make each other. And never doubt yourself again. You are perfect." He says and holds you close against him "I promise you will find someone special soon enough." "But...You're special to me and I love you Kolya." You whispered In his ears with a smile on your face now as he blushed at your words "I love you too my Dove. Now come here and give me a hug. Hugging helps calm you down after stressful situations. It makes you feel loved and protected too.. So... He said as he pulls you closer to him "C'mere! Give me a big hug I've missed you so much my love "

— — — — — — — — —

A/n; Hii ! I hope you like this fic :) I'm so sorry if anyone is going through this too. I hope you're all doing okay now <33 Make sure to stay Hydrated and Eat in time, Just a reminder you're all perfect no matter who you are, You're all good enough. Some words can be extremely hurtful sometimes but it's the best to try and ignore them :D I'm always open to talk about it if you're going through a rough time/day :) I love you all mwah <3

— — — — — — — — —

[the-sand-guardian]

Whumptober Day 8: Isolation Chamber

A continuation of Day 2

<><><><><><><><><><>

Cell was still stuck in solitary after his “friends” had escaped. He was on day 5 of his second week, and it was just as miserable as he’d remembered. He was used to it though, it had begun to feel like home in all honesty. Those four walls and big, heavy door had been there with him for so long now he began to take comfort in them. The rickety bed wouldn’t tell his secrets to anybody, and the solid concrete walls kept out unwanted intruders. The door would tell his secrets, he knew that. There was a little flap that sometimes opened to give him food or talk to the guards. It told them too much. He thought he honestly might prefer it if the door was just gone entirely. At least his beloved queridinho was back and safe. 

Pac and the others had been recaptured a few days after their initial escape. The door wasn’t very good at keeping the guards’ secrets, either. What a gossip! 

At least knowing Pac was safe brought him some comfort in that small room. Mike was alive too, which Cell could live with for now, same with Guanxinim. Apparently his queridinho had even stabbed a guard on his way out! It was heartwarming, really, it seemed like even the door was proud of Pac. The more Cellbit thought about it, the more he figured that light conversation with it might not hurt too badly. While the door may have been a snitch and a bastard, it was definitely a good listener. 

And so Cell began to talk to it. 

You don’t talk to the door while it’s speaking- That gets you told off from whatever’s on the other side of it. Cell had already figured that out. Sometimes, it gave him food, other times it didn’t. He didn’t care either way, he’d find a way to make do. When the door’s mouth was closed, though, it gave Cellbit free reign to talk. He talked to it about lots of things, but his favourite thing to tell it about was his queridinho. It didn’t seem to care much, but it was nice to get it out of his system. 

He’d tried to tell it about freedom before, too. A voice on the other side had laughed- actually laughed. Didn’t he know Cell had a lover outside of these walls to get to? Granted, he was only out in the general population of the prison, but that’s all the further Cell could handle him being. He was going to get back out of here, goddamn it, and he was going to kill Mike and Guanxinim for trying to steal his boyfriend! The door just laughed again. What a bitch. 

Just as Cell was gearing up to take a swing at the door for its awful attitude, a familiar voice came in close to the door’s mouth and opened it just slightly to speak through it. 

“Remember this, for me, will you?” 

Felps. 

There were several clicking sounds before Cell was met with a blinding light- Or maybe it was just regular light that felt blinding due to the weeks in darkness. The door had opened, and he wasn’t going to fumble this escape. 

“I’ll give you ten minutes to run, then I’m calling the other guards. Your time starts…now” 

And so Cell ran.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Thank you for reading! I've also posted this to Ao3, where I'll be cataloguing all of my works for this month! I also have 3 other WIP fics, so if you enjoy my works please go show some love over there or feel free to shoot me an ask!

[cto10121]

Twilight Clown Takes Special Edition—Bella and Edward Would Be Divorced By Now & Other Projections

In which the Twilight anti fandom cheerfully throws canon and even their beloved lore out the window for this increasingly deranged fanon, in part born from the dumbass movie canon. Here we go, om nom nom

Edward only “killed the vibe” when he thought he hurt Bella. He was literally upset that he gave her bruises and thought that Bella was putting up a brave face. 😭 If anything, it’s such a green flag it hurts.

Also, while Edward is dramatic, so is Bella. They both are! Bella is just more chill as a default.

Tell me you’ve only read the first 50 pages of Midnight Sun without telling me you only read the first 50 pages of Midnight Sun.

Edward being unable to read Bella’s mind is just like his reaction to Bella’s scent—it is a hook, a fictional contrivance to make him want to spend more time with her.

Once he does, though, he sticks around. Why? Because he likes Bella personally. She is quirky, self-possessed, quick-witted, winsome, and pretty tough and brave—the exact qualities you need to be able to handle vampires. She is also self-negating with self-esteem issues, which Edward admires and relates to, since he is self-negating with self-esteem issues too. Birds of a feather, etc.

Edward doesn’t know that Bella is like all the other girls even though he 1) asks a million questions about her likes and interests, 2) she tells him to his face that she is “absolutely ordinary,” and 3) er, stalks her.

You would think homeboy would get a clue about what kind of girl Bella is by now, especially from 3).

Visits her mom, oh God, these clowns are really not beating the lack of reading comprehension skills allegations. No thoughts, head empty.

I think it’s safe to say Bella would never return to Renée and Arizona. As much as she loves the city and the landscape, it is the site of her parentification, which Bella at some deep subconscious level recognizes and resents. Forks, bad weather and all, was when she really found her people, not to mention her love. And now that she is a vampire, the cold isn’t even a problem anymore.

Also, the fact that Bella blithely rationalizes away keeping Renée in the dark while keeping Charlie in the loop speaks volumes.

That’s right! Bella and Edward would never work out because they don’t have anything in common. I even made a whole list on how little they have in common, it’s astounding!

“Treats Resume awful” Source, please. Even in the dumbass movies Edward and Renesmee had a really lovely rapport with each other. It was one of the few moments Rob Pattinson did look like he was enjoying himself.

Bella “I have too much Charlie in me” Swan, going full Renee? It’s less likely than you think. Why do these clowns always have to stan Renee, the woman who literally made her child pay the bills?????

Also, “a woman who followed her own desires”…that is literally Bella with regards to Edward. She was the one who 100% on Edward’s icy D train while homeboy was still flailing over being Hades to her Persephone. She was the one who wanted to experience sex with Edward while still human even though he could have squished her like a bug.

It’s literally why I love this bitch (complimentary) to begin with. I admire that kind of NFG (No Fucks Given) in fictional characters. Characters that march to the beat of their own drum.

The Twilight fandom is really not beating the allegations.

Anyway, YMMV, but I’ve never read a more hetero bitch than Bella in my life, and I grew up on bodice rippers and telenovelas. Kristen Stewart’s Bella is not and will never be canon, so her sapphic vibes don’t count.

Tell me you’ve only seen the movies without telling me—

[focusontheheart]

Meet the Team - Bookmancer

You can also find her on: Twitter @ bookmancer_myth IG @ bookmancer_legendarium AO3 @ Bookmancer_Legendarium

Hello, Bookmancer here! I had no idea that when I played the robot dinosaur game, my life would be divided into two phases: before Horizon and after. I discovered Horizon right around its release. I was fascinated by the trailer and captivated by the Tallneck, which is still my favorite machine.   I'm continually awed by the storytelling, visual beauty of Horizon's world, and depth of its characters. HZD actually got me into virtual photography because it’s the first game that really encouraged me to pause, look around, admire the world, and fiddle around with how to capture its beauty. Because I do so much VP, I always like to look at paintings and photos to try and replicate them.  I started in the fandom through VP before indulging in my love of writing to share fanfic - and now this dating game! I’m always awed by other content creators in the Horizon fandom and out. They think of such creative things, and everyone is very encouraging. I'm excited to further explore Seyka's story in FOTH and Horizon 3 and am fascinated by her as a mirror to Aloy's stubborn compassion, but flavored by tribal connections Aloy only just made through her found family. But for the near future, I want to write more deep-dives into the psyche of the characters, their hopes and insecurities, and how they play off of each other. I’d also like to draw more and take more shippy VP!

See the Q&A with Bookmancer below the cut!

Q: What is a favorite piece of work you've done (i.e. completed, working on, in concept)?

I've written some fanfic for Horizon - some published that I really like and actually came out how I wanted to, and some that's still living in my brain and I have to pay its rent in the form of chanting "I should write this already…" But I'm pleased with my fic "who can take my hand in the flood?" and want to write more of the ever-growing GAIA Gang being happy and healing. I’m working on a Seyloy fic of her getting welcomed into the gang.

Q: What are some of your favorite tropes to write, draw, or read?

I love friends to lovers! Also, star-crossed lovers, opposites attract, fish out of water, rivals learning more about each other and coming to a powerful understanding, and bodyguard AUs.

Q: What is an unexpected thing or fun fact about you?

I've got a language learning club going with some friends so we can pool resources and offer encouragement. I love learning about absolutely anything, and I'm getting into crocheting. Outside of FOTH writing, I write fanfic for various fandoms. I do a ton of VP and it's probably doubled my playtime in HFW. I love swimming, and I can only whistle by inhaling, not exhaling.

Q: What has been your favorite thing about working on this project so far?

I've loved seeing the outpouring of creativity, the fandom uniting for something that's so beloved to so many, and learning a metric Horus-ton about… well, a ton of things! Every day, I'm amazed over and over again, and I'm so thrilled I to get to see this come together up close. Everyone is incredibly talented and inspirational, and every bit of it has been collaborative and uplifting.