#blades an agent of chaos

[sables-shitpost-dumpster]

Long awaited next round

[multiverseofmisfits]

Under the Sunlight Casts a Shadow

(Events before the Grimm Chaos)

"Brother, please stop!" A cry of a young girl echoed in his mind as he found himself in a bloody mess. There were corpses around. Many of them are those he recognized.

He was out of control. The sharp tendrils sprouted from his back would slice off everything and everyone in his sight. The girl hugged him, still begging him to stop this onslaught.

But he can't. This craving for blood and flesh made him more than a feral beast. And thus-

---

"NO!" Tanjiro got up, found himself on a bed. Oh, right. It was a room given to him. He had that nightmare again, did he?

"You seem troubled in your sleep. Are you okay?" A ginger girl was standing near the bed. How long has she been there again? "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, Penny. Don't worry about it," he reassured, getting off the bed to prep himself.

---

Later, in the meeting room...

"Bronya apologizes for the sudden meeting. There was a sudden distortion of energy detected from the multiversal planet code T-138, also known as Teyvat."

"Isn't that where Carl is currently assigned? Does that also mean..."

"As what we guessed, the witch is there. What made it worse is that the distortions happened in many areas of the said world."

"By distortions, what do you mean?"

"This must've sound too technical for you. What Bronya is trying to say is there's a sudden rise of creatures not from that world. Penny knows what they are."

"The Grimm. The monsters emerged from Remnant, my home world."

"We need to act as soon as possible. Bronya will send you to the assigned coordinates. We can't let that witch destroy another world."

"Mission acquired, Miss Zaychik! We'll save people as many as we can and stop the Grimm invasion."

"I'll do my best as well."

"Thank you. Reinforcements will arrive soon, but we can't wait for them before it's too late. Regardless, Bronya also hopes you'll make it."

---

After the meeting...

"May Bronya talk to you for a moment?" As everyone already exited the room, he held on the Sun breather's arm.

"Huh? Sure. What is it?"

"She just wanted to ask if you're really willing to do this. Bronya only had a few hints of what you've been through."

"..." He looked down, pondered about that question. It wasn't just about what he wanted to do. It was more like what might happen to him, given that dealing with Grimm were like fighting demons and-

"All I want is for everyone to live in peace. If it's urgent, they I must fight those Grimm." He looked back with determination, not showing any hint of backing out.

"Right. Bronya expected you'd still be willing to protect people. You even reminded her of her idiot friend."

"Uhm... who?"

"Don't mind what Bronya said. Anyway, she believes you can do it."

"Thanks, Bronya. For everything." And he walked off, preparing for the mission.

After that conversation, the Valkyrie looked through the window, having a view of the sea of infinite universes.

.

.

.

"I hope this plan works."

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one you get hurt by an unsub, and while tending to your wound, reid spirals into an internal monologue about what your type might be — and why he even cares.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, reader gets injured (in the neck), blood and wound, good old banter, a bit longer than necessary but i haven’t written in a while and went all in <33 oh and now reid not only has a crush on you but also on your car :>

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.2k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

Don't take this the wrong way—it's not like Spencer Reid was arriving at such existential conclusions at that particular moment, when the blade of a knife was pressed close—dangerously close—to her delicate neck. The thought flared up in his mind briefly, intensely, fleetingly—then vanished, and he only returned to it hours later, once the air had cooled a little.

Basically, Spencer definitely preferred to be the one in someone’s crosshairs, the one in mortal danger, rather than watch someone else go through it.

A brief summary of the case that led to the chaos that erupted in the office that night—a man suffering from PTSD who, after a psychotic break, became convinced that his wife and daughter had been abducted, and that everyone close to him was an impostor, all part of a massive conspiracy against him.

He got into the Quantico building by killing a police officer and stealing his uniform. Once inside, he found his way to the BAU offices and threatened to blow himself—and everyone else—up with homemade bombs if his real family wasn’t returned to him.

And well, just when everyone thought the situation was under control, when the unsub finally seemed to give up and put down his weapon…he suddenly launched himself into one last desperate attempt to escape, bursting through the doors.

He probably would’ve been shot. He probably knew that.

Which is why, when he saw a woman confidently crossing the hallway— and remembered the knife hidden up his sleeve—he didn’t hesitate. He simply pulled her toward him before she even had a chance to realize what was happening, turned to face the agents sprinting after him—who skidded to a stop at the sight, the squeal of their soles loud against the floor—and showed them exactly how tightly the blade was pressed to her skin, in a threat that made it…basically impossible for them to do anything.

Spencer struggled to breathe. That’s when the thought came. He preferred being in danger himself rather than watching others go through it. And it wasn’t some savior complex haunting him—nothing like that. It was just that staring death in the face gave him a greater sense of control, and a lesser sense of stakes. If you mess up, you die. That’s it. No one else pays the price. You don’t have anyone on your conscience. You don’t have to live with someone else's loss.

Also, it’s easier to come up with a plan then. The words just come out of you—you talk the unsub down, you convince him to spare you, or you outsmart him somehow. Things get complicated when you’re standing across from someone with a knife pressed to their throat, when you see the shock widening her eyes, her hand clenched around the man’s forearm, a grip she can’t yank or dig her nails into without risking having her throat slit.

So she freezes, completely still. 

Terror building in her gaze as it moves, one by one, across all their faces—Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss—

until it finally lands on him. Spencer held her gaze, realizing it was the only thing he could do to help her in any way. And to convince the unsub to let her go—but Rossi was handling that part now,

and the rule was that during negotiations, only one person should do the talking. Which, honestly, worked in her favor, because Reid wasn’t sure he’d be able to say anything that made sense.

Or maybe that’s just how he always thought of himself—afterward.

But at least he could hold her gaze, silently repeating the obvious things like don’t move or don’t panic, and watching as she answered back with just her eyes, something along the lines of how the hell am I supposed to not panic, you fucking idiot, when someone literally has a knife to my throat?Which—okay—was a bit sharp, but fair. Someone did have a knife to her throat and she was herself. He hadn’t expected any other answer, really. He was just glad she was still answering at all.

The unsub jerked his head when one of Rossi’s words seemed to hit particularly hard. He furrowed his brow, like he was trying to push back against the doubt forming in his mind, his knuckles shifting as he twisted the knife’s handle slightly. Spencer heard Prentiss exhale behind him—he held his own breath. She—the woman who’d ended up in this situation by complete accident—shut her eyes tight and stretched her neck upward, as if that small motion might somehow shield her.

But the pressure increased—the blade pressed tighter against the side of her neck, and a thin line of blood slipped beneath her collar.

It was too much.

Apparently for the unsub, too. Maybe he realized that this had been doomed from the start.So…he gave up, pushing his hostage away from him. Hard. So hard that she couldn’t hold herself up fully, crashing to her knees two meters away with a short hiss of pain. Spencer and Prentiss were instantly at her sides, while the rest of the team took care of arresting the unsub. Almost in sync, they grabbed her by both elbows, lifting her up with a bit of exaggerated care, as if to make sure she wouldn’t fall.

“It’s okay now, you’re safe—” Spencer began, rather standardly, feeling relief slowly spread through his body.

His eyes found the wound on her neck, trying to estimate how serious it was. But before he could do that—or even finish his sentence—she pulled her elbow free from his grip, then the other one from Emily’s.He froze, watching her move away from them with two shaky, staggering steps. He reached out again, burning with the sense that she might fall any second, but she stopped him with a simple, stiff extension of her hand.

He and Emily exchanged a glance.

“I’m not—” she began, standing firm on the ground, not moving.

Blood still flowed down her neck, but she seemed unaware of it, not even attempting to stop it with her fingers. She didn’t finish her sentence, pressing her lips into a thin line, her chest slowly rising and then sinking.

Of course, he couldn’t be sure what she was about to say, but he had a feeling it was something like I’m not one of your victims.

Without even sending him a glance, though their eye contact had been tight before, she turned on her heel, passing by the other agents who parted before her like the Red Sea. She was followed by many gazes, but for a while, no one said a word.

“What are you waiting for?” Rossi asked gruffly, spreading his arms. One of his eyebrows arched. “Someone go after her!”

Spencer felt as if someone had physically pushed him, urging him to take the same path she had just walked. It was possible he did it a little too energetically, and realizing that everyone was watching him, he felt a faint blush on his cheeks, but he tried to maintain his composure. He was doing them all a favor—she used to be insufferable even when no one had just tried to kill her. Some inexperienced agent might not survive her conversation after someone had.

And okay, he had to admit it to himself. There was also a slight hint of concern in that. He hadn’t been able to examine the wound on her neck, so he didn’t know how serious it was. He’d rather she didn’t bleed out. Besides, hey, when someone has just had their throat threatened, you simply follow them.

Why was he trying so hard to justify this to himself?

He found her, of course, in her lab. He reached it almost at the same time, even though she had left earlier, which made him realize he had sprinted the whole way. In any case, he burst inside just behind her, almost colliding with her back. Why was she standing there? Her entire team was in the lab, having stopped their work to stare at her, their mouths agape and one muffled gasp at the sight of the blood on her neck.

“Everyone go home,” she ordered, just having pressed her hand to the wound.

Reid slipped in quietly, standing by her side without a word, feeling a little lost, like an overwhelmed puppy at her feet.

“Oh my god—”

“What happened?”

“Gurl, I mean boss, you’re bleeding—”

“Literally sent you home earlier, why are you complaining?” she scoffed, but it was a nervous scoff. Suggesting that if they didn’t immediately disappear from her sight, she’d blow the lab up herself and turn them all into dust.

They looked at her confused, and Spencer was surprised to see genuine worry and fear on their faces. Well, he shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he’d feel the same if something happened to Hotch. For some reason, he’d always perceived her relationship with the team as… less close. Maybe in reality, it was the complete opposite.

“I’ll take care of her,” he said, turning to the team.

All eyes were on him. Some raised their brows. Including hers.

Fucking choice of words. Take care seriously, Reid?!

Despite the growing embarrassment, he forced himself to give a convincing nod. Then, with hesitation and in complete silence, her entire team made their way to the exit, sending worried glances toward their boss, which she ignored, her head lowered and a hand pressed to her neck.

The door closed, and the silence between them was heavy.

She didn’t interrupt it just moved towards the first aid kit in the lab and began pulling out the necessary items to tend to the wound. Her movements were so efficient and composed that Spencer couldn’t help but feel shamefully unnecessary.

Watching her search for something to wipe the blood from her hands, he realized and handed her the first cloth he grabbed. Since he was already there, he figured he might as well be of some use.

“This is my lab coat,” she hissed at him, right after grabbing the cloth from his hands.

Defensively, he raised both hands.

She just sighed and, with nothing else nearby, wiped her hands on the white fabric.

“You’ll be washing this,” she insisted.

“No way, you wiped it yourself…” He stopped mid-protest, his gaze falling on the amount of blood now covering her lab coat. His eyes widened slightly. She was turned to him with the uninjured side, so he couldn’t assess the severity of her wound, but it seemed worse than he had assumed. Worse than her reaction suggested. He nodded slowly, almost in a daze.

“Okay, I’ll wash it.”

She hesitated slightly.

"Don't be deliberately nice to me."

 "Are you seriously yelling at me for being nice to you?"

 "Much better."

His heavy, disbelieving sigh. He truly didn’t know anyone else like her. For a moment, they remained in silence as her hands found the disinfectant and poured a reasonable amount onto a sterile pad. Spencer cleared his throat.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he said.

The whole situation, he meant. The unsub’s escape, taking her as some kind of hostage. It would’ve been one thing if she’d been an agent actively working the case—but she wasn’t. She was a completely random person who just happened to be walking through at the wrong time. In a building where, if anywhere, everyone was supposed to feel safe. On that note, he truly felt a twinge of sympathy—and even anger. How had they even let that man get inside?

Her snort was fully understandable.

 "Wow, really? I thought that was supposed to happen." Her bitter remark was followed by a hiss as she pressed the cotton pad to her neck. She pulled it away, looking at the stain on it, and a grimace passed across her face. "Normal. Another day at work, some guy bumps into you in the hallway and puts a knife to your throat. Happens all the time," she continued sarcastically, though the sarcasm wasn’t as noticeable in her voice. In fact, there was barely any in it, weakened by how suddenly tired she sounded. The lab was quiet, and he could hear her swallow loudly. "You get used to it. They could at least add a bonus for every surprise like this...god, why is it bleeding so much?"

She suddenly turned her head toward him, and for the first time, panic flashed in her eyes. Spencer flinched, surprised by the sudden change in her behavior, but he quickly adapted, straightening up in his place with a sense of purpose.

“Let me see,” he immediately suggested, and to his surprise, she didn’t push him away this time. She turned fully toward him, allowing him for the first time to get a close look at the wound. Close enough, in fact, that he instinctively took a step forward, his hand automatically reaching out to take the sterile gauze from her. “You’re pressing too hard. The skin on your neck is delicate, and the blood vessels are very close. You need to be gentle,” he said.

“So be gentle, doctor,” she muttered.

Spencer felt a small smile tug at his lips, but he quickly masked it. It helped to focus on what actually mattered in that moment—his hand gently steadied her neck to keep her from making any unnecessary movements, especially risky with a neck injury. Only then did he reach for the wound with his other hand, carefully cleaning it.

A barely audible sigh of relief escaped him when he realized it wasn’t as deep as he had feared. The artery was intact—thank god. But the bleeding was a bit alarming.

At first, he could feel her gaze lingering on his concentrated expression, unreadable, save for the slight furrow of her brow betraying the pain. She gave a subtle nod.

“It’s okay, I think that’s enou—”

She began, but before she could pull away, Spencer moved first, reaching past her toward the first aid kit behind her back for the right kind of dressing. Since he had started, he might as well finish.

Suddenly, he felt a touch on his elbow—her hand, gently resting there at first, then pressing down with more weight. A moment later, her other hand joined it, on the opposite side of his body. His movements slowed, even his breath catching, startled by what he first took as some strange gesture—until it hit him. It wasn’t a gesture. 

She was simply struggling to stay on her feet.

His hand moved instinctively to her waist, steadying her just long enough to slide a chair beneath her. She sank into it without resistance. A fresh bandage now adorned her neck—one of the most meticulous dressings Spencer had ever done, and he’d done many. Honestly, you could slap a photo of it into a first aid textbook and no one would question it.

He took a step back, catching the dazed expresson clouding her face.

“Feeling weird,” she admitted.

Adjusting quickly to the shift in her condition, Spencer’s mouth parted slightly before he nodded in understanding.

“Yeah. That’s probably the adrenaline leaving your system. It’s normal. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Who said I was afraid?”

“Well, the sarcasm clearly hasn’t left your system. That’s a good sign. Means everything’s still working just fine. If it were gone—that’s when I’d start to worry.”

With a certain inexplicable satisfaction, he watched as a small, delicate smile tugged at the corners of her lips. For a moment, they both fell silent—different from the kind of silence they’d shared earlier, when Spencer had awkwardly glanced around the lab, unsure of what to do or how to help her.

This silence felt like rest. Like something she needed. So he let it be.

His gaze settled on her—almost absentmindedly, really. Or at least, that’s what he told himself until her eyelids, which had been resting half-shut, slowly lifted...and caught him staring.

"You can go now," she instructed.

He decided to take it as a thank you. Still, he didn’t move, despite her words.

"And you’re planning to…?" he asked.

"Go home," she finished for him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then, after a pause, she snorted softly. "Actually, I had a date tonight, but…well, I guess I should probably cancel that."

He nodded.

"Yeah, you probably should."

Their eyes met, and for a second Spencer wondered if he’d said that a little too firmly. He cleared his throat.

"I mean, it’s probably better if you use the time to recover," he added, feeling some strange sense of duty to clarify. He gave a small extra nod, like that might help sell it. Dear God.

"Besides," he went on, "if you think about it, you’d actually be doing them a favor. Nothing they could possibly say would impress you after the day you’ve had."

She raised her eyebrows.

“So you're suggesting I only date boring guys?”

He rolled his eyes skyward, because of course that was the part she chose to focus on—the absolute least important part of what he'd said.

“First of all, I’m not interested in the kind of guys you date,” he replied—though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

The thing about Spencer Reid was that many things interested him. Just…in general. For no particular reason.

So yes, in a way, he was curious—not about the specific men she went out with, but about their type. He believed people paired up in psychologically driven ways, and analyzing her personality had only led him to contradictory conclusions.

Were they stereotypical alpha males? Overly dramatic romantics? Confident-to-the-point-of-arrogance types…?

“I’m just saying that staying home might be a good idea,” he finished, snapping out of the mental spiral. He sighed. “Anyway—how are you planning to get home?”

She stared at him for a moment, as if the question didn’t quite make sense.

“Car,” she said flatly.

“You’re driving yourself?”

“No, with a hired chauffeur.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Why wouldn’t I drive myself?”

She pushed herself up from the chair slowly, clearly making an effort to seem alert and lively.

Well. The problem was, she didn’t. Her movements were slow, dulled, almost weak—an answer in themselves, really. At least, enough of an answer that Spencer didn’t have to say a single word.

All it took was one pointed look.

Her long, drawn-out, irritated, yet also submissive sigh.

"You’ve already survived someone trying to slit your throat—don’t you think it’d be kind of stupid to die in a car crash now?" Reid asked, raising his brows. And even though his words had a teasing undertone, he was looking at her seriously. He scratched his nose. "I can drive you."

What surprised him was the sudden skepticism in her gaze, made stronger by the way she folded her arms across her chest. She narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"You followed me, you stayed, you dressed the wound, and now you want to drive me home. As far as I know, you don’t owe me some great debt. So why are you doing this?"

"Bravo. You’ve just discovered that selflessness is a thing," he snapped.

She didn’t really buy it. And honestly, it wasn’t very convincing. He just couldn’t help falling back into some good old-fashioned bickering. And, truthfully, he needed a moment to think about his answer. Sure, he could’ve just blamed Rossi, said it was him who told him to go after her. Which wouldn’t have been that much of a lie. Or he could’ve thrown out something like no one else would’ve been able to handle you in that state, but for some reason, he couldn’t say that out loud. Because was it even true? There wasn’t anything particularly special about him, and it wasn’t like their relationship was all that warm to begin with. So maybe the question wasn’t why he was doing all this—but why she was letting him.

He ran through the whole monologue in his head, outwardly just shrugging.

"It’s part of my job."

His job wasn’t just about the criminals—it was also about the people who got hurt because of them.But even if he’d chosen any other career path in life, he probably would’ve ended up in her lab anyway. Because, fine, whatever—you want the truth?

He cared.

At least a little.

Happy now?

She drilled into him with her gaze, and he had the unsettling feeling that a fragment of his earlier monologue had somehow escaped through his ears and she had heard it.An urgent need to look away—but before he could, she reached something out toward him. Spencer extended his hand; her palm dropped toward his like she was about to give a sideways high five, but froze mid-air. The tips of her fingers brushed his skin, but something was separating the inside of her hand from his, preventing full contact.

Car keys.

*

*You dropped something, Doc."

Snapped out of what felt like a borderline magical trance, Spencer began glancing around his feet for whatever might have fallen out of his pocket. He found nothing.

"What?"

“Your jaw."

He tore his eyes away from what was in front of him with difficulty, just to look at her (let’s skip the fact that usually it was entirely the other way around…), and immediately met her small, defiant smirk. Her face still hadn’t regained its full liveliness, but his reaction definitely sped that process up. Reid quickly shook his head to snap out of it. It didn’t work. Fuck.

Everyone—literally everyone—who knew him was aware of his love for old cars. How the hell was she in possession of such a gem and he didn’t know about it?

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. Oh, that worked much better.

“Come back from whatever land you just drifted off to. I’m kind of in a hurry.”

He weighed the car keys in his hand, but before he took a step toward the driver’s side, something stopped him. Slowly, he turned his head toward her.

“So, you’re actually planning to go on that date?” he asked, with a tone that clearly questioned whether that was such a good idea.

She hesitated for a moment before answering, her lower lip slightly pushed out. Not because she was actually thinking about it. It seemed like she was doing it on purpose, assuming he was waiting to hear what she'd say. Which wasn’t true. He stood there, completely still in front of her, not because of that—definitely not…

“No,” she muttered at last. “I’m just tired. In a hurry to get to bed.”

Spencer nodded in agreement, considering that a very good choice. Having gotten an answer to his question, he could finally sit in the driver’s seat, feeling a wave of stress build up. It had been a while since he’d last driven, and this wasn’t just any car. Not that he’d be more inclined to crash head-on into a truck in another kind, but you know what he meant. There was a heavier sense of responsibility now—for three, not two.

“Maybe you can reschedule. I mean—you and your date. An assault’s a pretty solid excuse, he shouldn’t be mad,” he added, for some reason continuing the topic and immediately regretting not having a third hand to cover his mouth while the other two rested on the steering wheel.

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like just let him try. After those words, she became much less talkative, and Spencer even wondered if she was simply upset about having to cancel the evening. He kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye, trying to catch an expression that might confirm it. He found nothing of the sort, which allowed him to assume it hadn’t been a serious date. Not the kind you look forward to for weeks, wondering what tie to wear. That left him with a certain light feeling in his chest.

He sighed, focusing on the road ahead. She had given him her address, but hadn’t said anything else. She was tired, with a wound on her neck—he should let her have this moment of silence and rest. He should keep his mouth shut and just do what he was supposed to do. He should…but hell, he couldn’t help himself.

“You know that this Mustang was the first model year with a wider body, specifically to fit bigger engines? And its original radio had an option to hook up a record player? Can you imagine, listening to vinyls in a car…”

If his rambling had been met with an annoyed grimace from her, he probably would’ve shut up. But that didn’t happen. Despite the exhaustion on her face, she actually seemed to be listening, all the way until they came to a stop. Only then did her hand absentmindedly brush the bandage on her neck, and her surprisingly gentle gaze slowly turned to him.

“Thanks, Reid.”

A simple thank you, but he could sense it was sincere. He gave a slight nod. It was nothing. 

[demonic0angel]

The Guys in White start poking around Gotham and discover the army of zombie ninjas the Court of Owls use for nefarious purposes. Chaos ensues.

Danny stared at the mess that were government agents and zombie killing machines fighting each other and then said to himself, “Y’know, I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen.”

Dan clicked his tongue in amusement. “You would think they would all kill each other faster, tsk tsk.”

Jazz slapped him on the arm. “Dan!”

“I’m just saying!”

Tim stared, looking baffled. “How could the GIW actually be doing really well? The Talons are a highly trained force.”

All of them were on top of a roof, watching the chaos below on the street where Talons and GIW agents were attacking each other fiercely with blades and guns. Surprisingly, both sides were well matched.

Danny patted him on the shoulder. “Think of it like this. Fighting ghosts as a human with the appropriate weapons is like fighting Godzilla with nukes. Sure, you could take him down, but not without some mutual destruction and him coming back to kill you. Fighting humans, even undead ones with ninja abilities, is like fighting Komodo dragons with guns. You have less of a hitbox, but you have a better chance of killing it, right? We’re lucky that the GIW’s guns also work on them.”

Tim stared at him, as if to say, ‘Are you seriously comparing yourself to Godzilla?’ but then he thought about it and shuddered to himself. He had forgotten just how crazy and powerful ghosts were. Mostly crazy, though.

“At least they can destroy each other,” he muttered.

Dan snickered and took a few pictures. “I’m sending these to Dick.”

“Dan!”

“What?! He’d enjoy this!”

[inzaynety]

➢ summary: there weren’t many people on the defense force that chose to use blades instead of guns. maybe that’s how you got so close in the first place. (little snippets of life as a defense force commander fighting kaiju and dating hoshina)

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, sfw & nsfw/suggestive

➢ notes: inspired by @narumi-gens agents of chaos series love that; i have a lot of hoshina and commander reader ideas in my notes app and thot why not put them all here 🫡

last updated: 7/7/2024

chapters (can be read as stand-alones or in the order below):

he’s a biter! (beginning)

investigation: start!

When visiting the Third Division, there’s never a shortage of questions and confusion about you. A few take it upon themselves to get to the bottom of it. (fluff, suggestive)

a little, jealousy

Too much staring and too many comments tick him off. He makes sure he’s the only one you look at. (smut)

part of the job

After using No. 10, Hoshina realizes one of the reasons behind his drive to fight. After listening, you realize the limits to your everything. (slight angst, hurt/comfort)

i’m the only 10 i see

Kaiju no. 10 doesn’t know what love is. (crack, fluff)

short lived

Even professionals aren’t immune. Even they fail to notice. (angst)

the woes of a father

Ogata Jugo never thought he’d be this kind of dad, giving life advice and trying to help meddle in someone’s love life. The thing is, he didn’t even have kids. (fluff, slight angst, pre-relationship)

warning: asshole!

Gen tried telling you to avoid this man at all costs–you didn’t listen. (crack, fluff, pre-relationship)

blades before grenades

Kaiju suck but using guns to kill them is suckier. (fluff, pre-relationship)

long memories

Back at your building behind closed doors, you miss each other more than you thought. (angst, hurt/comfort)

Have any questions about the relationship, other characters' reactions, etc.? Feel free to drop them in the inbox!

©inzaynety 2024

[thighguys]

Phan Fic Recs!!

here's a bunch of my absolute favorites for anyone who needs a distraction from the election <3 i will make a second post with shorter ones as well, this post will just be fics that are over 10k

Inheriting Love by Fictropes (22k)- Dan is a lawyer who executes wills in a small town in the English countryside, and Phil's aunt leaves him a house. One of the cutest fics I've read recently tbh, lots of banter and cows<3

Silver Arrows to the Heart by @evermorepeyton (137k, WIP)- How could i POSSIBLY make a rec list without including this masterpiece??? Dan and Phil are Formula 1 drivers, chaos ensues<3 sooooo much fun (and there are some really beautiful cool women in there too, just as a treat)

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) by kishere (123k)- Dan is an amateur figure skater who scores a spot at the famous Lester training gym, where he meets the legendary Phil Lester and of course they fall in love... this one has sooo many cute fetus moments and wonderful cameos from Kath<3 absolutely love it

Like a Bowl of Oranges by cloej88 (@bitchslapblastoids) (47k)- Phil is a filmmaker looking to amplify queer stories in the media, Dan is a ghostwriter who's been writing a memoir on the side, you can guess what happens next. very VERY fun fic, lots of drama and lovely reflection, as well as the softest scenes between them. love this one (and the author :3)

The Odd Uneven Time by @yikesola (20k)- A 2009 fic from Phil's perspective, falling in love with a boy over the Internet. Absolutely WONDERFUL vibes, so so so cute (and it probably happened in real life ahaha)

Live Incidentally by yikesola (37k)- Phil makes novelty t-shirts and Dan buys them :) really funny, also some great Lester family moments

The Pianist Everyone Is Talking About... Is My Husband by @natigail (25k)- Dan is a famous pianist, Phil plays his songs on the radio, but nobody knows that they're actually married. Lots of chaos ensues, crazy fangirls can feel super represented, and Dan laughs at Phil about it all<3 this fic is so funny lol, highly HIGHLY recommend

Kick Me While I'm Down by jerserker (14k)- Dan and Phil join an adult kickball league! Phil just wants to make friends, and Dan... kicks everyone's asses <3 Really funny competitive Dan, fun times honestly :)

missing the obvious by Fictropes (14k)- Dan plays videogames in an anonymous Discord server at night, and during the day he goes to his boring office job and hooks up with his coworker Phil in bathroom stalls... I wonder how these two things could possibly be connected...

Our House by sierradeux (50k)- Dan is a real estate agent, Phil is a Youtube house flipper, they team up to cohost an HGTV renovation special and fall in love. With the house, obviously. But also with each other <3 this is one of my favorites guys I think it should be required reading for everyone on phannie tumblr

maybe this christmas by blackbirddan (13k)- it's November, im allowed to rec christmas fics now, right??? anyway, this one is HUGE for fans of the Lester and Howell families, just so so so soft and sweet and awesome<3

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY by natigail (176k)- i mean this one has a pretty self explanatory title... read for super hot dancer Phil, awkward celebrity Dan, and so so so many beautiful outfit and dance descriptions :3 seriously, I wish I could watch this season irl :( this is for sure in my top 3 fics of all time to be so honest

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? by natigail (15k)- Cornelia pov on meeting the boy Phil brought home, and then throughout the years. SO CUTE!!!!! really big for fans of outsider pov (me)

okie dokie<3 i will be making an under 10k rec list as well, so be on the lookout for that one!

[sosa2imagines]

Finding you again... Part 2

Warning- Angst and nightmare, mention of stitching skin.

Chaos.

That’s the only word to describe what happened the day Captain America stormed Hydra’s facility. Alarms blared, gunfire echoed through the halls, and for the first time in years, you saw hope. Hope in the form of a shield, deflecting bullets and cutting through the oppressors who had held you captive for so long.

As Captain America and his team fought their way through the facility, you found yourself caught in the frenzy. But amidst the chaos, your eyes were drawn to the Winter Soldier.

But Steve Rogers fought like a man possessed, and when his eyes landed on his best friend, the Winter Soldier, you saw something else. Recognition, desperation, friendship, love and brotherhood.

“Bucky!” Steve had shouted, voice filled with something so raw it made your chest ache.

That was his name. The first time ever you heard his name. Pierce never told you Winter’s real name.

Steve's eyes locked on Bucky, and you could feel the emotions radiating off of him. There was fear, sadness, longing, but also a fierce determination to break free the man he considers as a brother.

Steve pushed through the battle, getting closer and closer to the Winter Soldier. His shield protected him from the enemy's fire, and his punches were fueled by righteous anger.

But Bucky didn’t respond. He stood there, gun raised, eyes clouded with confusion and conflict. The programming still held him in its grasp, chaining him to Hydra’s will. You wanted to run to him, to reach him before it was too late, but your body was weakened, stitches still fresh from Pierce’s blade, and your escape was slipping through your fingers.

“Go!” Steve barked at you, deflecting an incoming Hydra operative with a sharp strike. “Get out of here!”

You hesitated, looking at Bucky one last time. His gaze flickered to you, brief, fleeting. Something was there, buried beneath layers of control and forgotten memories. But it wasn’t enough.

You ran.

You tore through the facility, heart pounding in your ears as you evaded Hydra agents. Explosions rocked the building, sending debris falling all around you, but you didn’t stop. When you finally stumbled into the fresh air, gasping, the facility behind you was engulfed in flames.

You waited.

You waited for Bucky, your Winter.

You searched through the crowds, desperate to find him or his friends, Steve, Natasha, Sam, the names you had learned from the crowd, but they were gone. The Captain had done his part, but you were left adrift, alone in the aftermath.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months,you heard whispers of Captain America's relentless search for his friend, Bucky remained elusive. The Hydra remnants were being dismantled, one by piece, but there was not a trace of him. You wondered if he was alive, if he had escaped or if he was still trapped within the labyrinthine depths of his own mind.

You never found Bucky.

And just like that, you were separated.

Years Later

Bucky Barnes woke with a loud gasp, his chest heaving as cold sweat clung to his skin. He sat up in the darkness of his small apartment, his heart racing as remnants of the dream.

Bucky's eyes darted around the unfamiliar surroundings as his heart pounded in his chest. He was in his apartment, safe and sound, but the nightmare still lingered in the shadows. The memories of the dream felt real, almost as if they had happened just moments ago. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to calm his racing heart.

No, not a dream. A memory. Or something close to it.

As he sat there, his mind racing, a sense of unease washed over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that he was forgetting something important.

He tried to recall the dream, to remember any details that could shed light on the emptiness he felt inside, but it remained just out of reach, like a fading memory slipping through his fingers.

He ran a shaky hand through his damp hair, his fingers trembling slightly. It wasn’t one of the usual nightmares, no screams, no flashes of Hydra’s torment. This was different. He saw hands, his hands, stitching a wound. The light was dim, sterile, and there was... someone.

Someone watching him.

The same damn dream, again and again.

Bucky swallowed hard, shutting his eyes and forcing himself to focus. He could remember the feel of the needle, the tug of the thread pulling skin together. But the face, the face of the person watching him was blurred, hazy, just out of reach. He felt it though. Something familiar. Something important.

He turned, pressing his palms against his face in frustration. “Who the hell are you?” he muttered into the darkness, exhaling shakily.

Why did it felt like, that person matters to him.

The next morning, Steve found him sitting by the window, staring out at the Brooklyn skyline with a far-off look in his eyes.

“Another rough night?” Steve asked softly, handing Bucky a cup of coffee.

Bucky didn’t respond right away, his fingers curling around the warm mug. “I... keep seeing something…” he finally admitted, voice distant. “Someone, I don’t know who that person is, but...” He trailed off, his brows furrowing.

Steve took a seat beside him, concern etched on his face. “You remember something?”

“Not clearly,” Bucky shook his head, frustration lacing his tone. “Just flashes. But it’s not like the other stuff, Steve. This one feels... different. Like it mattered. Like that person mattered…”

Steve watched him carefully, understanding the weight of forgotten things, the pieces of himself, Bucky had been trying to reclaim for years. “Maybe it's someone Hydra doesn’t want you to remember?”

Bucky let out a bitter chuckle, “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He took a slow sip of his coffee before murmuring, “But it’s driving me crazy. I know I’m forgetting someone important.”

Steve placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes.”

Bucky only nodded, but deep down, he knew that whoever that person was, he couldn't afford to forget them any longer.

Part 1- Part 3

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt @baw1066 @leviackerman2030 @chaestwbryz @eugene-emt-roe

[he3ts]

THIRTY ONE DAYS

pairings: the salesman x reader

warnings: in this part none in particular, except use of guns (?)

plot: a recruiter and an fbi agent. you are mutually obsessed with each other, what could go wrong?

The air was still in the empty hotel, as if the building itself was holding its breath, and there you were, alone, standing in the middle of the lobby. The dim light from the neon flashing above the lobby, filtered through the dirty windows, but did little to brighten the room. Darkness lurked in the corners, like a waiting predator. That darkness reminded you of your training at Quantico, of how you had conquered all fear just to continue your work. Your heart was pounding, every shot ringing in your ears like a dull drum.

After months of pursuits, of traps that seemed perfect and instead failed miserably, after sleepless nights spent calculating and recalculating your every move, there he was.

The recruiter.

He was in front of you at last. He sat in a worn and weathered armchair, his legs crossed and a calmness that disarmed you. The light danced on his face, but the shadow of the cigar between his lips was the thing that stood out in your eyes. It was as if he had been waiting for you, not the other way around. His relaxed posture, that barely-there smile, everything about him conveyed an uncanny confidence, as if he knew your every weakness, your every intention.

"I must say I'm impressed, agent"

His voice was soft, but the sarcasm that accompanied it was as sharp as a blade. Those words made you clench your fists, an instinctive gesture that revealed the anger you were trying to hold back.

"I thought you would have given up long before," he added with a slight tilt of his head, as if he was studying you, looking for a reaction. You stared at him. Motionless, as if you were pinned down by an invisible force. Inside you, however, was chaos. Anger bubbled in your chest, alongside something else you did not want to acknowledge: a deaf obsession, a disturbing attraction to the man you had pursued for so long. There was also curiosity, a disturbing curiosity that gnawed at your soul. You wanted to know. You wanted to understand.

You had imagined it a thousand times, this moment. You had experienced it in your dreams and nightmares, you had predicted it and repeated it in your mind like an obsessive ritual. Yet, now that you were there, the only sound was that of your labored breathing and the distant hum of a faulty electrical tube.

Finally, it was your voice that broke the silence, even though it sounded almost foreign to you. "There is no one here to save you," you said, in a tone you wanted to be harsh, implacable. "This time, you have no way out"

He laughed. Not a full laugh, but a short, sharp one, enough to make you grit your teeth. "Oh, really?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "Do you think I'm the one who needs saving?"

Those words hit you like a fist, heavy and impossible to ignore. For a moment, you hesitated. There was no one there with you.

No allies, no reinforcements. Just you and him. And there was something in his voice that made you tremble, a realization you could not ignore: every move, from then on, would be decisive. Every mistake, potentially fatal.

You realized that no matter how much you had planned everything, the game was starting at that moment, and he, with his unflappable smile, already knew all the rules. You were cursing Gi-Hun for that assignment, but you was technically helping a friend. However, you were missing the evidence, which unfortunately your colleague had disappeared into the ocean.

You had moved a step closer, your eyes fixed on him like those of a hunter who did not want to lose sight of his prey. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to react, but you did not draw the gun hanging from the holster under your vest. Not yet. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your impatience, nor your anger.

"You've been hiding for months," you said, in a tone as sharp as a razor blade, "always one step ahead. But no more. I will stop your fucking inhuman games"

Your words echoed in the empty hotel lobby, but he did not react as you expected. No sign of fear, no trace of anxiety. He tilted his head, as someone observing a painting whose meaning he could not grasp. His eyes scanned you, analyzing every crease in your face, every breath, as if you were an enigma to be deciphered. A lock of black hair had fallen over his forehead, jauntily, nothing seemed to disturb him.

"Oh, honey," he said with a thin smile that made you grit your teeth, "you still don't understand, do you? I was never the one hiding. I let you chase me. Every move you made, every choice you made, every decision--it was mine. I guided you here"

Those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, a shiver ran down your spine, but you would never give him the satisfaction of seeing your upset. "Liar," you spat, trying to maintain control. "You're just a coward playing with other people's lives because you don't have the courage to face your own misery!"

Yet, his smile did not falter. On the contrary, it widened, revealing a dark sparkle in his eyes. He rose slowly from the chair, his movements fluid and calculated, like a predator stretching before attacking. He looked taller than I remembered, or maybe it was the shadow that made him that way.

"Face my misery?" he repeated, with a short, heatless laugh. "You talk about courage as if you know anything about it, but look at you" He took a step forward, and then another. "How long have you been living just for this moment? How long has your obsession with me consumed you? Isn't this the real misery?"

You stiffened, and for a moment you felt the need to take a step back, but you stopped immediately, forcing yourself not to back down. "You're good with words," you replied, your voice colder than you felt. "But it won't work"

He stopped, a few steps away from you, the calmness radiating from his body almost unbearable. He made a gesture with his hand, pointed to the environment around you. "Do you know why I brought you here?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, almost hypnotic. "Because this place is perfect. Empty, isolated, silent. No one will hear you scream"

Your breath quickened, and without realizing it, your hand was already on the gun. But before you could pull it out, he raised a hand, a slow, theatrical gesture. "Wait," he said, his tone calm as if he were explaining something to an old friend. "Before you do something you might regret, let me ask you a question"

You stared at him, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you really sure you want to know why I let you find me?" he continued, moving another step closer until you could hardly hear his breath. "Are you ready for that?"

The air felt heavy, as if the very walls of the hotel were tightening around you. Every fiber of your being was telling you to act, to do something, but his words had you immobilized, as if some part of you knew there was truth in what he was saying.

"Because, you know," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you're not so different from me. You like to think you're the hero, but really ... you're just another piece in this game"

The gun slid from its holster with a firm movement, and you pointed it at his chest, your hands steady despite the tremor you felt inside. "One more word and you'll regret it," you hissed, your voice hard as steel. But he didn't seem scared at all. In fact, his smile grew wider, almost amused. "Perhaps," he said, his tone light, almost cheerful. "But have you ever considered that, just like everyone else, you too could be a player?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt as if you were hovering on a thin wire, with emptiness beneath you. And for the first time, a thought crossed your mind like a bolt of lightning: what if you were not in control of the situation? That you were going crazy? That this was yet another trouble you had gotten yourself into?

The gun was pointed at him, and you felt your finger resting on the trigger, steady, ready. Every fiber in your body was tense, every muscle waiting for a signal to act. The cold metal of the weapon pressed against the palm of your hand, but it was his gaze, that mocking smile on his face, that weighed most heavily on you. He did not turn his eyes away from yours, not out of fear, not out of anger, but with that disarming calm that made you want to pull the trigger just to erase it.

"I'm not afraid," you said, your voice hard but just a little cracked.

Yet even as you spoke those words, you knew it would not be that simple. You knew it in the way he moved, slow and calculated, as if he was in control, even though you had the weapon. You knew it in the way his every word seemed to slip under your skin, creeping in like poison.

The recruiter did not seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, the smile on his face widened, subtle, dangerous. It was as if he had been waiting for exactly that moment. "Would you really?" he asked, his voice soft, almost curious. "Would you really think that pulling that trigger would solve anything? Or maybe ... you just want to do it for yourself?"

Those words struck you more than you would have liked. For a moment, a flash of doubt crossed your mind. But you forced yourself to banish it, to focus only on him. "Enough of your games," you spat, clutching your weapon more tightly. "They won't work"

He laughed softly, a laugh that seemed made on purpose to irritate you, to test you. He took a step toward you, so slow and measured that you almost didn't notice until he was too close. "Ah, but they work already, Y/n. Look where we are. Look how I got you here, exactly where I wanted you"

You felt the finger on the trigger tighten just a little more. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions: anger, frustration, and something darker, something you didn't want to admit. It was him. His presence. The way he seemed to know your every thought, your every move before you even made it.

"You think you're in control," he continued, his voice a whisper that seemed to fill the entire room. "You think you're the one in charge, but in reality-you're exactly where I wanted you to be. Doesn't that sound curious?"

His calmness infuriated you, but you could not deny the knot you felt tightening in your stomach. It wasn't fear. It was something else, an emotion you could not define. An obsession you didn't want to acknowledge, one that had driven you to follow him, to pursue him for months, years.

"Shut up," you hissed, but your voice was less firm than you had hoped.

"Ah, there," he said, tilting his head slightly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Silence. But you can never find it, can you? It's you. You and your need to understand, to control. That's why you haven't killed me yet"

You felt your breath quicken, your finger trembling slightly on the trigger. You hated it. You hated the way he could turn your every action into his victory, your every word into a weapon against you. But, most of all, you hated the fact that a part of you knew he was right.

And he, as if he had read your thoughts, took another step forward. He was close now, too close. You felt his presence like a shadow, heavy and looming. "Come on, agent" he said, almost softly. "Pull that trigger. Do it. It will set you free, right?"

His words were a venomous whisper that squeezed your throat. But you hadn't done it. Your finger remained there, motionless, still on the trigger, but unable to move. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. Shooting wouldn't have solved anything. It would not have erased what you were feeling. It would not have stopped the game.

The recruiter took another step forward, getting so close that you could almost feel the heat of his body. You could feel your finger on the trigger pulsing, your heart beating hard against your ribs. But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, his calm seemed almost surreal, as if he was sure you would not fire.

Then something had happened that you had not expected. Slowly, unhurriedly, he extended a hand toward you. Your reflexes prompted you to stiffen, to point the gun more firmly at him, but he did not stop. With infuriating slowness, his fingers reached down to your hair, taking a strand between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes widened, your breath caught. You felt your heart quicken as he, with a soft gesture, brought that lock of hair to your face. He sniffed it, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring a memory, or something sacred.

"Agent," he murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. "This is what I've been chasing all this time. This is what drove me to play"

His words hit you like a lash, but you were too confused, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to react immediately. He opened his eyes and looked at you, and that look affected you more than his closeness. There was something dark, morbid in those eyes of his.

"You don't realize it," he continued, his hand still in contact with your hair, "but it's always been you. Not the games. Not the power. Not the victory. Just you"

"You're crazy," you hissed, your tone harsh but cracked. You wanted to push him away, push him away, but it was as if your legs didn't respond.

"I know," he replied, with a shameless smile. "But maybe that's why we're perfect. Because you too, deep down, are like me"

Those words set you off; you finally found the strength to back away a step, shaking his hand out of your hair. "Stop it," you said, raising the gun again. "We are not the same. We never will be"

He did not move, his smile barely widening. "Really? Then why don't you pull that trigger? Why don't you put an end to this?"

Yet, inside you, something was breaking. Like a rope pulled too long, ready to give way under the weight of that night, of those words that seemed to hit you where you knew you were most vulnerable. The recruiter, motionless before you, barely tilted his head, his gaze charged with morbid interest, his smile now slow, calculated.

"What's going on? The big moment and you're paralyzed? You can't decide whether to shoot me or stay and watch me, as you've been doing for months!" His voice was like glass against skin, sharp and thin, but it was that amused, almost indulgent tone that made you grit your teeth. "Don't worry, we can stay here all night. I'm in no hurry"

You felt the weight of each word. They dug into you, lurking like thorns, but you wouldn't let go. Not yet. You didn't have to believe them, not even for a second. But those eyes. Those eyes seemed to be able to read you better than you could read yourself. And for a moment, you felt that terrible doubt creep into you. What if he was right?

But you were too weak, because he was right, you had turned around so fast that the gun almost slipped from your hand. But you had let it go. The dull sound of the gun falling to the floor had been the last sound before the chaos. Your legs had begun to move, as if they knew where to go better than you did. Each step took you farther, each breath was a cry of rebellion against the weight of his presence.

You were running away.

His laughter had filled the hotel, bouncing off the peeling walls as you ran down the dark hallway. Your feet pounded on the floor, the sound of footsteps almost covered by the distant hum of neon lights wavering above you.

You had not stopped. You couldn't.

MASTERLIST.

[aventurineswife]

A scenario where the character has to work on a mission with the reader, but turns out, the reader was a spy who ends up betraying them. They get into a heated fight, and the character ends up having the upper hand. Now, they have to kill the reader, and they have the best shot. But they're hesitating, unable to kill them because of all the things they went through. Questioning the reader and demanding if it was all a lie and if they were just a heartless monster. Reader ends up revealing that their time together was real and was readers' feelings for the character. (Veritas, Kaveh, Moze, Aventurine, Kinich, Topaz, and any other character you see fit). (Spy and agent au?).

Between Lies and Longing

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Moze x Reader, Topaz x Reader, Kinich x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Betrayal, Espionage, Intrigue, Enemies-to-Lovers (kinda?), Emotional Conflict, Moral Dilemmas, Action, Romance, Tension, Emotional Angst, Unrequited Love, Forbidden Love, Redemption Arc Potential.

Warnings: Betrayal, Violence, Intense Emotional Conflict, Themes of Deception, References to Family Threats and Coercion, Mild Blood and Injury Descriptions, Existential Trust Issues, Emotional Manipulation.

The dimly lit library was silent, save for the sound of hurried footsteps as Ratio sifted through tomes and scrolls. You were by his side, your sharp mind and quick wit a perfect match for his own. Tasked with retrieving classified documents on the Guild’s enemies, you both worked seamlessly, an intellectual symphony of logic and strategy.

As the mission neared its climax, the betrayal unfolded. You revealed your allegiance to the very forces the Intelligentsia Guild sought to destroy, stealing the precious documents.

“Was this your plan all along?” Ratio’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. His fiery eyes—bore into yours. His usually composed demeanor was now fractured, his confidence teetering on disbelief.

The fight that followed was a clash of brilliance and desperation. His movements were precise, his calculations flawless, and it wasn’t long before he had you pinned, his weapon—a sharp ceremonial blade—pressed against your throat.

“You had me fooled,” Ratio hissed, his voice a mix of anger and pain. “Was I just a pawn in your grand scheme? Was everything we shared a lie?”

Your voice wavered. “No, it wasn’t. My mission… it required deception, but you—our time together—was real.”

His grip on the blade faltered. He stared into your eyes, searching for the truth amidst the chaos. “Why should I believe you? You’ve betrayed everything I stand for!”

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered, “Because despite my orders, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you. I’ve fought against my feelings for you, but they’re real. I never wanted it to end like this.”

Ratio’s hand trembled as he lowered the blade. He turned away, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. “I should kill you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You’ve destroyed my trust. But if what you say is true… perhaps ignorance is the real enemy.”

He left you tied, taking the documents back to the Guild. But even as he walked away, his heart was heavier than ever, burdened by the bitter truth that love and betrayal had become intertwined.

The moonlight filtered through the ruins where Moze and you worked together on a covert mission. The air was heavy with anticipation as you infiltrated the enemy stronghold. Moze’s quiet precision was matched by your adaptability, and for once, he allowed himself to trust someone else fully.

When the ambush came, it was devastating. You revealed yourself as the spy, striking at the heart of his mission.

Moze’s voice was cold and quiet, his eyes narrowing. “You…” he whispered, a tremor of anger in his tone. “You were one of them all along.”

The fight was brutal and intimate. His movements were fluid, each attack calculated to disable rather than kill, despite the rage simmering beneath the surface. When he finally cornered you, his blade pressed against your chest, his voice cracked.

“Why?” he demanded, his tone laced with both hurt and fury. “Why betray me? Was I nothing but a means to an end?”

Your chest heaved as you met his gaze, tears streaming down your face. “No,” you said. “I… I never meant to hurt you. It started as a mission, but I—I fell for you, Moze. You have to believe me.”

He hesitated, his grip tightening before loosening again. “You expect me to trust you now?” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with bitterness.

“I don’t expect forgiveness,” you admitted. “But everything I said, everything I felt—it was real. I was ordered to betray you, but I couldn’t bring myself to end it this way.”

For a long moment, Moze was silent. Then, he stepped back, his blade lowering. “You don’t deserve my mercy,” he said, his voice hollow. “But I can’t bring myself to kill you. Not after everything.”

The casino’s lights glittered in the distance as you and Aventurine worked together to infiltrate the IPC’s enemies. His charm and cunning made him a brilliant partner, but his guarded nature had always intrigued you.

When you revealed your betrayal, his reaction was surprisingly calm. He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming. “A spy? I should have known. Still, I didn’t think you’d have the guts to betray me.”

The ensuing fight was a dazzling display of skill and deception. Aventurine danced around your attacks with an almost theatrical flair, his movements fluid and precise. When he finally disarmed you, pinning you against the wall, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“Tell me, darling,” he said, his tone dripping with venom, “was any of it real? Or were you playing me the whole time?”

“It was real,” you said, your voice breaking. “Every moment with you was real. I never wanted to hurt you, Aventurine. But I had no choice.”

He laughed bitterly, stepping back but keeping his weapon trained on you. “No choice? Everyone has a choice. You just made the wrong one.”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, the flicker of doubt that betrayed his internal struggle. “Kill me if you must,” you said. “But know that I never lied about how I felt for you.”

He lowered his weapon, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible gambler,” he muttered. “But I’m not about to play executioner tonight. Get out of here before I change my mind.”

The IPC’s debt retrieval mission was in full swing, and you and Topaz were an unstoppable team. Her sharp intellect and unyielding determination were inspiring, and for a time, you forgot about your ulterior motives.

When you revealed your betrayal, she reacted with a mix of shock and fury. “I trusted you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I brought you into my world, and this is how you repay me?”

The fight was intense, her speed and precision matched by your desperation. When she finally subdued you, her weapon—a blade infused with IPC tech—hovered inches from your throat.

“Was it all a lie?” she demanded. “Every laugh, every moment—was any of it real?”

“It was real,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I didn’t want to betray you, Topaz. I didn’t have a choice.”

Her hand trembled as she held the blade. “You always have a choice,” she said, her voice breaking. “But maybe… maybe I’m not as heartless as you.”

She stepped back, lowering the blade. “Run,” she said. “And don’t ever let me see your face again.”

Yet, when he found the vault empty and your shadow slipping through the exit with the stolen data, everything crumbled.

[Credits to @d-june-y]

The rain poured heavily as Kaveh crouched behind a dilapidated wall in the abandoned warehouse, his eyes scanning for any sign of you. The mission had been simple: infiltrate and retrieve classified intel. Kaveh wasn’t one for espionage, but the higher-ups insisted his expertise in decoding architectural blueprints would be invaluable. And with you, his trusted partner, at his side, he believed this mission would go off without a hitch.

Now, as he cornered you at the edge of a rusted catwalk, the betrayal cut deeper than any blade.

“Why?” Kaveh’s voice cracked as he raised his weapon. His normally soft expression was twisted with anger and disbelief. “Why would you do this? I trusted you—we trusted each other.”

You clutched the flash drive tightly, your breathing uneven. “It’s not what you think, Kaveh—”

“Don’t!” He stepped closer, his gun aimed at your chest. “Don’t lie to me again. Was everything just… a setup? Every moment, every smile—was it all fake?”

Your silence stretched, the tension suffocating. Then, in a sudden move, you lunged. Kaveh reacted instinctively, disarming you with a precision that spoke of your countless training sessions together. He pinned you against the railing, his breath ragged, the barrel of his gun pressed to your temple.

“Tell me it was real,” he demanded, his voice trembling. “Tell me that you weren’t just playing me. Please…”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and you finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “It was real, Kaveh. Every moment we spent together, every laugh, every late-night conversation… all of it. I didn’t want to betray you, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” he snapped, though his grip on the gun faltered.

“They have my family,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “If I didn’t do this, they would have killed them. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Kaveh’s breath hitched. The weight of your confession pressed down on him, and for the first time since the chase began, he hesitated. Lowering the gun slightly, he whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you. We could’ve figured this out together.”

“Because I couldn’t drag you into this,” you replied, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You’re too good for that… for me.”

Kaveh stepped back, lowering his weapon completely. The storm outside seemed to echo the turmoil in his heart. His shoulders slumped as he whispered, “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

In the silence that followed, Kaveh made his decision. “Take the flash drive,” he said finally, his voice hollow. “Save your family. But when this is over… I’ll be waiting. And you’d better come back to me.”

You stared at him in disbelief, his selflessness cutting deeper than any wound. Gripping the drive tightly, you nodded. “I will.”

Kinich’s eyes locked onto yours as the jungle canopy loomed above. The ambush you had sprung moments ago left him bruised and bleeding, but it was your betrayal that cut the deepest.

As you disappeared into the shadows, Kaveh sank to his knees, the rain mixing with his tears. He didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, but for now, he chose to believe that the connection you shared was more than just a lie.

“Was this your plan all along?” Kinich’s voice was cold, venom laced in every word. “To play the loyal partner, only to stab me in the back when the time came?”

You held your weapon tightly, heart pounding as he circled you like a predator. “Kinich, you don’t understand—”

“Then make me understand,” he interrupted, his tone sharp. “Why would you sell me out to the very people we’ve been fighting against?”

The silence was deafening, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. When you didn’t respond, Kinich lunged, knocking the weapon from your hands. He pinned you against a tree, his grip ironclad as he glared down at you.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Was everything between us a lie? The nights by the fire, the promises—was any of it real?”

You winced at the pain in his voice, the rare vulnerability cracking through his stoic facade. “It was real,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Every second of it.”

Kinich’s grip faltered for a moment before he tightened it again, his distrust palpable. “Then why betray me?”

“They have something on me,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “My past… my family. If I didn’t deliver you, they would’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever loved.”

“You should have trusted me,” Kinich growled, his tone filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “We could’ve fought them together.”

“I couldn’t risk it,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “I couldn’t bear to see you hurt because of me.”

Kinich stared at you for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. Slowly, he released his grip, stepping back as he sheathed his blade.

“You’re a fool,” he said, his voice devoid of its usual edge. “But so am I for letting you get this close.”

You hesitated, unsure if his mercy was genuine or a trap. “Kinich—”

“Go,” he interrupted, his back turned to you. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

You lingered for a moment, knowing you’d just lost the only person who ever truly understood you. With a heavy heart, you vanished into the jungle, leaving Kinich alone with the weight of your betrayal.

As he watched your shadow disappear, Kinich tightened his fists, vowing that if he ever saw you again, he’d demand more than just answers. He’d demand the truth.

[hanzalla]

undercover agents Buck & Eddie

Buck and Eddie were undercover agents on a high-stakes mission, tasked with infiltrating a covert arms deal. Forced to work together despite their clashing personalities, they spent most of their time snapping at each other. The mission had been a disaster, a whirlwind of close calls and chaos, leaving them both battered and bruised but somehow alive. Back at the safe house, the adrenaline still coursed through their veins, making the air between them feel volatile, ready to ignite.

Buck leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath, while Eddie paced across the room like a restless predator, his jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to contain the storm inside him.

“You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” Eddie snapped, his voice razor-sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

Buck straightened, his eyes narrowing as he met Eddie’s glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie stopped pacing abruptly, pivoting to face him, his expression a mix of anger and exasperation. “do you even think! You just dive in headfirst. You treat every mission like a damn game of chicken.”

Buck bristled, crossing his arms defensively. “I didn’t hear you complaining when it worked,” he shot back, his tone defiant.

Eddie took a step closer, his movements deliberate and charged. “Worked? You made yourself a target! You nearly got yourself killed! You don’t get to gamble with your life like that—not when other people are counting on you.”

The accusation hit Buck like a punch to the gut, but he refused to show it. Instead, he pushed off the wall, his voice rising to match Eddie’s. “What’s your problem, huh? You were fine. I made sure of it. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

He added with a forced smirk. “You think you know me, Eddie? You don’t.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened, and in a flash, he grabbed Buck by the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the wall with a force that rattled the room. The air left Buck’s lungs in a grunt, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond.

“This isn’t a joke, Buck!” Eddie shouted, his voice raw with emotion. His face was inches from Buck’s, his eyes blazing with fury, but beneath the anger was something deeper—fear. “Do you even care that you almost died tonight? Or are you so damn selfish you don’t think about the people who’d have to live without you?”

The words hit harder than Buck expected, cutting through his defenses. He froze, his gaze dropping. “As if there’s anyone who would care,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “But I couldn’t let you get hurt. You’ve got Christopher. You’ve got people who love you. I don’t have that.”

Eddie’s grip on Buck’s shirt loosened, his anger giving way to shock. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Buck’s confession hanging between them like a storm cloud.

“You’re not invincible, Buck,” Eddie said at last, his voice trembling as he lifted Buck’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “And I can’t—I won’t—keep watching you destroy yourself like this.”

Buck swallowed hard, his throat tightening with unspoken words. “Eddie…” he started, his voice softer now, hesitant. “It’s fine. You don’t have to act like you care. I know you hate my guts.”

Eddie let out a bitter, humorless laugh, stepping back as if burned. “Hate you?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be standing here, yelling at you for almost getting yourself killed. You think I enjoy this? That I don’t care?”

Buck stayed against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. There was something raw and unguarded in Eddie’s voice that left him speechless.

“Just… stop being so reckless,” Eddie muttered, his tone strained and quiet now. He turned away, his shoulders tense, refusing to look at Buck. “Because I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply. “I can’t lose you.”

The vulnerability in Eddie’s words left Buck reeling. He stayed where he was, his breath shallow, the weight of everything sinking in. For the first time in a long time, Buck didn’t have a clever retort, didn’t have the words to fill the silence.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel like something he needed to fix. It felt like something they both needed to understand.

[brainrotcharacters]

Wade and Logan are about to be the Problem Pair™️ to both their allies and their enemies alike?????

Picture it, nerds. Deadpool: weirdo who talks to someone you can't see, Special Forces training, dual adamantium katanas, dual guns, punch daggers, extra knives extra blades extra guns and yet the actual arsenal is how the motherfucker never shuts up.

And actual Wolverine: shadowing him like a guard dog. Except Deadpool doesn't necessarily need it? He'll gloat about it from morning, long after the sun comes down, not to mention it defaults Wolverine to being his first target to annoy (because he's physically the nearest). But necessity? Wade will do that anime thing where his katana is barely out of the sheath and he already cut down their enemies.

Logan? I'll reiterate what I said in a previous post: that senior citizen will cut down all the enemies Wade missed. And Wade misses a lot, agent of chaos as he is. Deadpool's regeneration notwithstanding, listen to the snick of Wolverine's claws when you incapacitate his partner, he's irrationally protective. And it works vice versa! If Wolverine is down, look for something red. (There's no guarantee seeing Deadpool lunge at you with a sword in one hand, a gun in the other, scowling through his mask, will make a difference to your survivability as their enemy.)

They're a special brand of disorienting, these two. Logan will probably learn to lighten up and joke around again depending on how long he's been with Wade, and Wade will certainly settle in as an adamantium katanas user when the OG adamantium user is, not to be Pride and Prejudice, warming his bed. It'll catch you so off guard as an opponent to these two that they can deal damage so great that it echoes to your ancestors, and then say something so out of pocket to depress you so bad you never get up from where you're bleeding on the floor.

[sh4nksslvt]

!!Hello, good afternoon. Excuse me, I loved the story of the reader who has the ability to read stones. I don't remember his name. But can you make one where he escapes from CP9? The harem would be Lucci Kaku.Kalifa and Jabra But there the reader escapes but before he leaves them a gift I leave it to your imagination Please I would love to see one

glad u loved it! its not much but i hope u like this!!

Secrets in Stone

When CP9 stumbles across a mysterious stranger who can read poneglyphs, their mission turns from capture to chaotic obsession.

CP9 x gn! reader Tags: fluff, flirty, chaos a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff cringe and oc word count: 828

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The day was supposed to be simple.

You perched atop a crumbled temple ruin, legs dangling over the mossy stone, casually brushing dust off an ancient poneglyph slab. The symbols glowed faintly under your touch, and you tilted your head thoughtfully before speaking aloud in a clear, ancient tongue.

A bird cawed somewhere above, startled into flight — but otherwise, the jungle remained eerily quiet.

Unbeknownst to you (well, actually, you had sensed them miles away — you weren’t clueless), five very unwanted visitors were lurking nearby.

“This is it,” Spandam whispered, waving his arms like an overexcited tour guide. “The ruin where the said energy signature came from! Move it, CP9!”

"Tch, keep your voice down, idiot," Lucci muttered, hands stuffed lazily into his pockets, but his eyes sharpened in the direction of your voice.

"Huh? You hear that?" Jabra’s ears twitched as he sniffed the air dramatically. "Someone’s already here!"

"Impossible," Kalifa adjusted her glasses, heels clicking softly as she moved through the brush. "No civilian could've bypassed the government’s perimeter."

"Unless they’re better than you," Kaku quipped with a cheeky grin.

Kalifa glared. "You wanna test that theory, Giraffe-boy?"

They emerged from the dense foliage like a pack of chaotic hyenas, just in time to see you — calm, glowing faintly under the light of the poneglyph — speaking it aloud.

Dead silence.

You finished the last line, tapping the stone gently as if saying goodbye to an old friend. "Huh. That was easier than last time." Then you turned casually, meeting four wide-eyed CP9 agents and one screeching Spandam.

"Wh-WHAT?! Another one who can READ THEM?!" Spandam screeched, practically foaming at the mouth. He turned to his agents. "Capture them immediately!! They're government property now!!!"

You dusted off your hands, unfazed. "…Tch. Was hoping to avoid this." You rolled your neck until it cracked and lazily picked up your weapon of choice — a strange-looking whip, glowing faintly with ancient runes.

.

.

Lucci blurred forward with Soru, fingers twitching with deadly Shigan precision. But you sidestepped smoothly, your own body flickering with a power that looked suspiciously like Soru — but faster, a custom technique you called "Phantom Step."

He grunted in surprise, landing where you were, not where you are.

Kaku came next, flipping into the air with Rankyaku, sending a blade of compressed air slicing toward you.

You spun your whip, the ancient runes shimmering. With a casual flick, the whip shattered the air blade with a crack that shook the ruins.

Kalifa tried to close in with her Awa Awa no Mi powers, bubbles already forming between her fingers, smirking.

"Don’t worry, I’ll make you nice and clean," she purred, blowing a kiss laced with shimmering soap bubbles.

You blew her a kiss back — and in the same motion, snapped your whip to dissolve her bubbles mid-air.

"Sorry, sweetheart," you teased coolly. "I don't do bubble baths on first dates."

Kalifa stammered, cheeks flushing pink.

And then, Jabra — sweet chaotic Jabra — lunged at you in hybrid wolf form, snarling, fangs bared.

"You won't be so cocky once I chew your—"

You ducked under him mid-sentence, used Phantom Step to appear behind him, and flicked his ear with two fingers. "Down, boy."

Jabra yelped, skidding face-first into a wall.

"WHAT ARE YOU FOUR DOING?! CAPTURE THEM!!" Spandam shrieked again.

The CP9 agents stood there, battle-ready… but weirdly hesitant.

Because now that they’d actually seen you — how you moved, how effortlessly you dismantled their attacks, the cool confidence radiating off you — …it was way less about capturing you and way more about "holy shit, they're hot."

"They're… impressive," Lucci muttered under his breath, narrowed eyes lingering on the curve of your mouth when you smirked.

"No kidding," Kaku agreed, grinning wide.

"I wanna wrestle them," Jabra said immediately.

"Pervert," Kalifa and Kaku said in perfect unison.

You stretched lazily, letting your whip dangle at your side. "Look," you said, voice dripping with casual arrogance, "I don’t have time for government clowns. I got bigger stones to read, if you know what I mean."

Jabra visibly wagged his tail.

You decided it was time to leave.

But not without a little gift.

Later that night, when CP9 regrouped at their makeshift camp — bruised, flustered, and thoroughly bewildered — they found something waiting for them in the center of their campfire:

A small, folded piece of parchment.

On it: a crude little doodle of all four CP9 members getting their asses handed to them by a stick-figure version of you, labeled “ME :)”. And underneath, in neat cursive: "Catch me if you can. - (Y/N)"

Spandam combusted from rage. The others?

Lucci stared at the note for a long time, a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. Kaku burst out laughing, clutching his sides. Kalifa looked like she wanted to be mad, but was mostly trying to hide her blush. Jabra immediately declared he was “in love.”

[reixtsu]

Chapter 1: Unexpected Encounter

Next Masterlist

The city was alive with activity. Neon lights painting the skies in hues of blue and violet. The hum of airships overhead blended with the cacophony of voices in the crowded market square below. For a Stellaron Hunter, such chaos was both a blessing and a curse-it offered cover but also countless opportunities for things to go wrong. Very wrong.

You stood near a vendor stall, your eyes constantly scanning the crowd. Elio's script had been vague, as always, leaving you to fill in the gaps. The mission was to retrieve the data drive, avoid detection, and regroup. Sounded easy enough, but you wished that there were more details within the instructions.

Behind you, Kafka leaned lazily against a lamppost, her lilac eyes glinting with nonchalant amusement. "You're too tense, y/n," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "Relax. Everything's going according to the script."

You shook your head. "I know, but you're not the one with a five-year-old son to look after," you muttered, keeping your voice low.

She chuckled softly, her gaze flickering to where your son, Hajime, stood beside Silverwolf. The boy was wide-eyed, captivated by the holographic displays at a nearby stall.

"Silverwolf's got him," Kafka assured you. "Blade and I will cover the east quadrant. Focus on the task at hand, alright cutie?"

You nodded, though the unease of a mother twisted in your chest. Hajime was your world, the one part of your life that isn't dictated by Elio's vision. You'd do anything to protect him-even if it meant walking away from the man who shared the same magenta and cyan eyes.

The mission began smoothly enough. You slipped through the crowd, your every move calculated like a ninja's. Blade and Kafka disappeared into the east quadrant, starting their part of the script. Silverwolf stayed behind, her fingers flying across her hacking device as she worked to intercept the rogue agent's signal.

"Hajime," you said, placing your finger into the little speaking device that was well hidden in your ear. "Stay close to Silverwolf. No wandering off."

"I know, mom," He replied, his tone both obedient and slightly exasperated as he sat next to Silverwolf, watching as she continued her job.

For a while, everything seemed fine. Hajime stayed within sight, his curiosity tempered by your warning. But then the stall selling glowing crystals caught his attention.

"Silverwolf, can I look?" he asked, his voice tingled with excitement as he stared at her, practically begging.

She hesitated, glancing at her device then back at him while her fingers kept typing. "Just stay where I can see you," she finally said.

Hajime eagerly nodded then darted off.

Minutes passed, and you felt a flicker of unease. After infiltrating the building and finishing your part of the mission, you went back to Silverwolf. She was sitting, legs crossed as she was preoccupied with whatever she was doing. Stretching, you walked up to her, patting her back until you realized something. 

"Where's Hajime?" You asked, your voice sharp enough to have Silverwolf look at you.

"He went exploring," she said blankly, her gaze scanning the crowd to look for the boy's fluffy blond hair.

Panic surged through you. With a sharp glare, you turned and pushed your way through the market, your heart hammering in your chest and making its way up your head, causing you to have a pulsing headache.

Aventurine had no particular reason to be in the fun part of the city other than the fact that he was bored. His work often brought him to places like this-a bustling, neon-soaked market in some distant planet. But tonight the atmosphere intrigued him. Surely the higher ups wouldn't mind if he lingered in the area for a bit.

He strolled through the square with a calm, almost lazy grace, his sharp, neon and magenta eyes taking in the sights. Vendors called out to passersby, hawking everything from the rare spices to glowing trinkets. Children darted between stalls, their laughter cutting through the noise like a sharp melody.

Then that's when he saw him.

A boy, no older than five, weaving through the crowd with the confidence of someone much older. Aventurine paused, his gaze narrowing. There was someone about that child, something oddly familiar that he couldn't place a finger on. Then that's when he saw it. The boy's eyes.

Avgin eyes.

Ones that looked a little too identical to his own.

Realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, but he pushed the thought aside, approaching the boy cautiously.

"Hey there," he said, crouching to the boy's level. "You seem a little far from home."

Hajime looked up at him, his expression wide from curiosity. "I'm not far. Mom's around here somewhere."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. Why wasn't the boy at least accompanied by his mom then? Was his mom off drinking at a nearby bar or something? "Does your mom know where you are?"

The boy shrugged. "Probably. She's busy. Silverwolf's supposed to be watching me, but she got distracted. Sooo I walked away!"

The name Silverwolf sent a jolt through Aventurine. he knew that name, who didn't? Silverwolf, one of the Stellaron Hunters, a bounty with so many credits for her head. He studied Hajime more carefully, giving him a smile.

"What's your name?" Aventurine asked, keeping his tone light.

"Hajime," the boy said proudly. "Who are you, sir?"

Sir? Aventurine smiled, charmed despite himself. "Just someone passing through. How about we find your mom together?"

Hajime considered for a moment, humming dramatically before giving Aventurine a huge grin. "Okay."

Aventurine couldn't help but genuinely smile as Hajime peppered him with questions. The boy was sharp, his curiosity knowing no bounds.

"Do you live here?" Hajime asked as they walked through the busy market.

"No," Aventurine replied, his eyes wandering off but his peripheral vision on Hajime. "I'm just visiting for a while. How about you?"

"I don't live anywhere," Hajime said matter-of-factly. "Mom says we're always on the move because of her work. But she always makes sure I'm safe."

Aventurine hummed nonchalantly, feeling a pang of something he couldn't quite name. Pity? "She sounds like a good mom."

Hajime nodded enthusiastically. "She's the best! She's really strong, and she knows everything. But she gets grumpy sometimes."

The older male chuckled. "I see. And what about you? What do you like to do?"

the boy tilted his head, thinking. "I really like learning about stars and planets. They's so cool! Mom tells me stories about them all the time. Do you have any good stories, sir?"

Aventurine smiled. "Many, Hajime, like-" He began to ramble on about a star that burned so brightly that it burned the planets around it. Hajime listened intently, his eyes only growing wider with wonder.

You found Hajime just as Aventurine was finishing his story. Relief crashed onto you like a tsunami, but it was quickly replaced by dread as you saw just who he was with.

Aventurine.

He looked up, his gaze locking onto yours. Time seemed to slow, the noise of the market fading into the background. His expression shifted-first surprise, then it morphed into something deeper, something more intense.

You forced yourself to move, your steps graceful despite the chaos inside of you. "Hajime," you said, voice calm but firm. "I told you not to wander off."

Hajime ran to you, his small arms wrapping around your leg. "Sorry mama. But look!" He looked up at you, grinning as he pointed at Aventurine. "He helped me look for you."

Aventurine just stood there, his charm seeming to radiate off him. His gaze never left yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. "It's been a while, hasn't?" He said, his tone laced with something unreadable, making your heart jump a little.

You met his gaze evenly despite the pounding of your heart. "Indeed. Thank you for watching him."

Hajime tugged on your sleeve, momentarily bringing you back into the present away from Aventurine. "Mom, he told me a story about a star! Can I hear more? Please?"

You smiled faintly, your mask firmly in place. "Maybe another time."

Aventurine chuckled, his usual charm sliding into place as he slipped his hands in his pocket. "I'd be happy to. But first, I think your mom and I need to have.. a little chat."

Author’s notes: Here you all go! Your rich sugar daddy baby daddy! I love his gay ass so much… I might do those poll votes on how the story progresses in the future, but let me know if you’re interested so far! I’d love to hear from you!

ALSO!!! If you wanna join the Taglist then comment down below!

Likes, shares, and reboots much appreciated!

Taglist: @godoffuckedupcats, @sweetistic

[ifredactedbureau]

Redacted: Ground Zero

IF inspired by Contro (2019), SCP Foundation, X-files

Demo: PROLOGUE

In the aftermath of World War II, a classified mission pulls you into the shadowy remnants of a conflict no one dares to acknowledge. Whispers of rogue Nazi scientists and reality-warping experiments have surfaced, threatening to plunge Europe—and perhaps the world—into chaos once more. As an MI5 field agent, you’re tasked with uncovering the truth buried beneath layers of secrecy, lies, and betrayal.

Every lead points toward Projekt Schwarzfeld and the catastrophic events of Threshold Zero, a forgotten chapter of the war that defies explanation. But some secrets were never meant to be unearthed. As you navigate a labyrinth of conspiracy, forbidden technology, and fractured reality, you’ll confront forces that question the limits of human understanding—and the cost of wielding power beyond comprehension.

Redacted: Ground Zero is a story of espionage, moral dilemmas, and the unraveling of truths hidden in the shadows of history. Will you rise to the challenge, or will the truth consume you?

• Master anomalies and adapt your skills. Harness strange, reality-defying abilities tied to anomalies—whether it’s manipulating probability, stepping through dimensions, or stabilizing reality itself. Unlock and refine these abilities as you uncover their true potential.. • Investigate a fractured world. Explore sites of catastrophic anomalies, from the eerie remnants of Threshold Zero in the Bavarian Alps to the clandestine Red Academy in Siberia. Encounter twisted phenomena, uncover hidden truths, and decide what to do with what you find. • Make critical, world-altering choices. Will you prioritize saving your team, containing anomalies, or acquiring forbidden knowledge for the Bureau? Each decision changes the relationships you build, the missions you undertake, and the fate of Baseline Reality. • Face enemies born of anomaly experimentation. Encounter Die Gebrochenen—the Fractured—twisted results of Nazi experiments with anomalies. Face other rogue forces, like defectors, rival nations, or anomaly-enhanced mercenaries seeking control of forbidden power. • Navigate a morally gray world. Decide where your loyalty lies—with the Bureau, with humanity, or with yourself. Will you uphold the fragile stability of reality or risk everything for greater power and knowledge? • Fall in love—or not. Form deep connections with up to four romantic options, from an idealistic scientist to a cynical spy. Your choices in love will offer new strengths—or dangerous distractions—in the face of looming threats.

Love Interests

Charlie Hayes (he/him or she/her) : The Bold Truth-Seeker “The truth isn’t pretty, it isn’t safe, and it sure as hell isn’t kind—but if I don’t drag it into the light, who will?” • A resourceful American journalist working undercover to investigate Nazi remnants and their experiments. • Bold, witty, and fiercely independent, Charlie thrives on uncovering the truth, often bending the rules to get the story. Their adventurous spirit hides a vulnerability stemming from personal losses during the war.

Theo Adler (he/him): The Haunted Genius “Knowledge doesn’t absolve you of guilt—it sharpens it, until every answer feels like a blade at your throat.” •A German defector and former scientist of Projekt Schwarzfeld. Now a reluctant informant for the Bureau. •Quiet, intelligent, and burdened by guilt, Theo is a man trying to atone for his past. His insights into anomalies are invaluable, but he struggles with his identity and the weight of his actions during the war

Eleanor “Ellie” Blackwood (she/her): The Steadfast Operative “You don’t look back in this line of work—not at the enemy, not at your mistakes, and definitely not at the people you couldn’t save.” • A British SOE operative and expert infiltrator now reassigned to the Bureau’s task force. • Calm, disciplined, and focused, Ellie is a consummate professional. Beneath her composed exterior lies a fierce loyalty to those she trusts and a fear of failure that drives her to overextend herself.

Damien Laurent (he/they): The Enigmatic Opportunist “Morality is a luxury for those who’ve never had to bargain with the devil—and I’ve shaken his hand more times than I care to count.” • A French art dealer with connections to the black market and underground resistance networks. • Charismatic, flirtatious, and morally ambiguous, Damien is a master of navigating high society and shady dealings. They keep their true intentions hidden behind charm and wit

[innorogers]

Labyrinth

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: "Babe, please..." His neck was at your mercy, the blade was cutting a thin bloodline on his skin. 

Warning: Yeah Idk, big huge action scene?

Characters: OC, John Walker, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton.

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull | 9: Vigil | 10: Eclipse | 11: Veil

Time stood still the moment Steve made eye contact with you—or whoever it was standing before him. An indescribable fear shot through his spine like a bucket of icy water, freezing him to his core. 

He could remember so vividly the night you met: the spark in your eyes when he first looked at you, your bright smile that could light up the whole sky, and the butterflies in his stomach as your gaze shone like the farthest northern star—quiet and endless as the ocean. But that light, that spark, wasn’t in the person holding the blade before him now. And he panicked. What if he never saw that light again? What if he never saw you again?

The battlefield continued as you and Steve stood face to face, a storm of chaos and destruction. Explosions echoed in the distance, shouts and commands lost beneath the crackle of energy weapons, the clang of metal against metal, sharp cracks of gunfire, and the low roars of the Hulk. Smoke billowed into the air, a thick, choking veil that obscured the figures moving within it.

"Circle formation around the Cap!" Commanded Natasha as she moved with precision through the swarm of attackers and spotted that both of you stood still. 

The unit moved swiftly and smoothly like changing pieces on a chessboard, forming a human shield that left you and Steve in the middle, unperturbed by the rage of the battlefield.

“We’ve got this. Get her back!” Black Widow shouted as her batons sparked with each strike. Above, Sam darted through the air, his wings slashing through enemies while his mounted guns provided cover fire for Clint, who rained down arrow after arrow to try to open a road through to the source point.

But nothing else existed for Steve. The rest of the world had been muted. Chaos blurred at the edges, sharpening the tension between the two of you. Each second felt like a lifetime as he hesitated, his shield trembling in his hand, and in front of him, it was just you, the blade, and the hollow shadow of who you used to be.

You made the first strike, so fast it happened in the blink of an eye. The next thing Steve knew, your blade clashed against his shield with such force that it echoed loudly, the sound so sharp and powerful that the agents and soldiers around you groaned in pain from the noise and impact.

Steve took a step forward, his shield raised defensively, but his movements were slower than usual, weighted down by hesitation. “Babe…” he said behind his shield, his voice trembling with both fear and hope. “I know you’re in there. You’ve got to fight this.”

But your response was nothing more than a sharp, deadly swing of your blade, aimed directly at him. He barely managed to block it again, the force of the impact reverberating up his arm. The sheer precision and strength in your strike stunned him. This wasn’t something you could do; he’d only known caresses and gentle pats from you. Yet this was you, fighting to kill.

“Fuck!” Steve groaned under his breath as he sidestepped your next attack, your blade slicing through the air with an elegant yet terrifying efficiency. 

He was still panicking, something that never happened to Captain America, not since his first day on the battlefield. He faltered as he caught glimpses of your face: those eyes he knew so well, now devoid of recognition, your expression cold and mechanical. Every strike you launched was calculated, every part of you he loved seemed to have been replaced by a weaponized ghost of yourself: fierce, deadly, and emotionless.

“Stand down!” He yelled, his voice thick with desperation. “This is not you!”

But you didn’t stop. You spun with lethal grace, your blade flashing toward his side. Steve dodged just in time, swinging his shield in a defensive arc to force you back.

“Fight it! Wake up!” Steve growled as he launched a counterattack, swinging his shield toward your blade in an attempt to disarm you. And your weapons clashed, sparks flying as his vibranium shield met the steel of your blade.

The impact sent both of you skidding back, but you recovered with terrifying speed, lunging forward without hesitation. Steve’s breath hitched. He couldn’t focus. His body moved to fight, but his heart couldn’t follow.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna do, Steve…” John shouted from the other side of the battlefield as he fought off attackers. “You keep doing that boyfriend thing of yours, and the next thing you know is a cut on your throat!”

“Maybe you wanna stop talking and actually reach the source point?” Tony said, his fingers moving with incredible speed across the keyboard, just as Robert Lin stumbled through the door in striped pajamas.

“I’m here, I’m here! Mr. Stark…” Dr. Lin said, adjusting his glasses and attempting to fix his disheveled hair. “W-what’s going on?!” His eyes widened as he took in the combat displayed across all the screens and the command room bustling with agents and the entire team in action.

“How are we, Sam?” asked Iron Man, while commanding the Iron Army drones that had just arrived at the scene. “Close enough? Need a hand?” His voice was calm, but his eyes flicked toward the screen showing Steve and you, worry etched into his expression.

“We’re pinned but holding!” Sam replied, his voice strained but steady. “But we’re outnumbered. If you’ve got a hand, Stark, now’s the time to lend it.”

“Copy that.” Tony’s tone sharpened. “Split formation: five in Sam's position, the rest sweep the perimeter. Let’s clear some breathing room.”

The Iron Army descended, metallic forms glowing as they fired precision blasts, forcing the attackers back. “Now we’re talking!” Sam said, his voice steadier. “Heading to the source point. Steve’s still engaged! It looks bad.” There was no way Steve was going to be able to make a move, hurt you, or hurt himself in the process of it.

Tony’s gaze flicked to the screen, where Steve was locked in combat with you, each clash of blade and shield sending shockwaves rippling through the area. His jaw tightened. “Not this time. Just go. I’ve got visuals. Sam, you focus on the source. I’ll keep an eye on Cap.”

“Got it!” Sam confirmed, taking to the air again, his wings cutting through the haze as he led his team closer to their objective.

Tony exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on the controls as his focus shifted back to the battle raging between Steve and you. “Come on Cap…” He muttered under his breath. “Let’s bring her home.”

In the background, Dr. Lin fumbled with the equipment, his hands shaking as he tried to synchronize the frequency Stark had ordered. “I need more time!” Lin shouted, glancing nervously at the chaotic displays around him.

“We don’t have that! Work faster!” Tony snapped, his gaze never leaving the screen. “If this fails, we’re screwed.”

“The sound that commanded the neural waves is different from last time…” Robert muttered, feeling like he was working against a ticking time bomb. He was a lab scientist, for god’s sake—why did he always end up working under this kind of pressure? He wanted to cry, but instead, he kept typing furiously.

“Which makes sense because last time, the command brainwashed our people and not an army of freaking… Well, I don’t know what these things are! Their brains are configured on an entirely different level…”

“I just need to isolate the neuro-wave oscillation patterns and realign them with the inverse frequency modulation… ok, ok, OK! Got it! Got it! GOT IT! Mr. Stark! I’ve got it! We have the connection, and the file is transmitting right now!” Robert screamed, sounding like a fangirl in a frenetic state.

“Ok, Sam, everything’s ready. Just reach the source. Analyzing compound—run all the scans NOW, Jarvis. Open it up for the Falcon.” Stark ordered, and Hill followed his commands.

“Team Beta, assist the Falcon to get to the destination. Alpha, keep guarding the Cap!”

The team roared under the command, fighting harder, deadlier, to keep Steve and you enclosed within the formation.

This was the toughest, hardest, most difficult fight Steve had ever faced in his entire life. It was worse than fighting Tony in a freezing cave in Siberia, harder than fighting his younger self in the Avengers tower, and so much worse than fighting Thanos when the future of the planet depended on it. This was a battle against his will, his heart, and everything he loved.

“Stop it!” He shouted, more to himself than to you. He had to keep you down, but every swing, every block, every dodge tore at him like an open wound. He couldn’t bear to hurt you, but he couldn’t let you win—not over him, and not over anyone on the team.

In that moment, a flicker of emotion passed across your face—something brief, almost imperceptible. A hesitation. But he caught it. He knew you so well; he knew every cell of your body, every spark of life that made up your soul.

You were there. You were still there. 

“Babe, It's me. It’s Steve.” He said, his pleading voice breaking as he lowered his shield slightly, taking a dangerous gamble. “Come back to me, please.”

For a split second, your blade faltered mid-swing, but then the hollow look returned, and the fight resumed, even fiercer than before.

Steve clenched his teeth, his resolve hardening. He couldn’t give up—not on you. Not ever.

He needed to immobilize you, that’s all it takes, he needs to take you back home, you were still there, he needs you back. That's the only idea that’s on his mind right now. Steve clenched his teeth and moved, he lunged forward, as Captain America does with his enemies, and his shield blocked you so hard, it numbed your arm. 

But you didn’t care, because you didn’t feel anything. He swung his shield and its strength and speed even opened a break in the ground, the sound was mute when you stopped with your bare hands, threw it back to his face and when he blocked, the fight reached its breaking point, and then, at the height of the combat, it happened. 

You were there a blink after the shield, and you swung your arm with the cold blade.

“NO!!” John watched the whole scene unfold and he shouted.

But before he did, you halted mid-motion.

The cold blade in your hand hovering a hair’s breadth from Steve’s throat. 

The edge gleamed dangerously close to his skin, a thin barrier between life and death.

Steve froze, his chest heaving, the rhythm of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He didn’t dare move, his shield limp at his side. His eyes locked onto yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw it: the flicker of the real you behind the cold, hollow exterior. 

There was a struggle, visible in your trembling hand, as if your true self was clawing its way through the darkness.

Your breathing grew ragged, and tears began to stream down your face, your lips parting as if to speak.

You were fighting.

You were fighting so hard. 

Just like back then when you closed everyone out and plunged a tranquilizer on your neck to avoid hurting anyone. You were struggling to break free. 

You were fighting, to come back to him.

Your soul, your heart, every glitter spark of your life thread, was fighting the hell out of you, to get back to him.

Tears welled in your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as the blade inched closer. 

Steve's voice caught in his throat. “Babe…It’s me…” 

His plea was raw, desperate, as if willing you back to him by sheer force of will.

“Fight this, you are stronger than this. Please …” His neck was at your mercy, the blade was cutting a thin bloodline on his skin. 

But he wasn’t going to move. 

He was gambling with his life, he bet his entire existence to yours, that you’d fight, you’d come back to him. 

“I know you are there…” He begged, looking at your eyes. He could see the tears falling down, the struggle within those unrecognizable eyes and the coldness of the machine that took power over you, but there was you, too. 

“You are not this.” He whispered: “Remember? You are not this.” You are not the monster Hydra tried to create, you are everything your siblings hoped and protected, you are his precious treasure, his midsummer night, and everything he dreamed, cherished and longed for in his life. 

“Come back to me…” He said in a soft voice, feeling already that the blade was burning in his skin.

And then for less than a second, he saw it. 

He saw you.

The blade faltered.

Your grip tightened.

The knife edged closer, brushing against his skin, and in one swift motion, you turned the blade, pointing it toward yourself, and anyone could react, you plunged it into your chest.

“NO!” Steve’s voice ripped through the air, raw and desperate. The sound of steel piercing flesh echoed in the silence, followed by a soft, strangled gasp escaping your lips.

Steve’s breath hitched as he watched, unable to process what was happening. 

Time slowed to an unbearable crawl. 

Steve’s gaze locked on yours, and in your eyes, he saw it—the flicker of the real you, breaking through the haze, fragile and fleeting.

You collapsed to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.

Steve’s heart stopped. He should’ve moved, should’ve caught you, but his feet were rooted to the ground, frozen in a mix of panic and horror. His shield slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the floor.

Everything around him blurred, the shouts of the team muted as if underwater.

He could see John diving forward, his arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to catch you. Natasha was already sprinting toward you, their faces etched with shock and urgency.

But Steve couldn’t move. His chest felt hollow, his legs like lead, as if the very life had been drained from him. He could only watch as your body hit the ground, limp, the blood from your chest spreading in a crimson pool beneath you.

“STEVE!” John’s voice pierced through the fog like a thunderclap, raw and commanding, cutting through the paralysis gripping him. 

“CAP, MOVE!”

The shout jolted him like a bolt of electricity, snapping him out of his frozen state. He stumbled forward and tripped over his own feet in his desperate haste to reach you, dropping to his knees beside you, but his hands were shaking so violently that he hesitated, unable to bring himself to touch you. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, his heart hammering against his ribs as if it might break free.

This couldn’t be true. 

He must be dreaming. 

He must be so tired looking for you back in HQ that he passed out at his desk.

“No… no, no, no…please, please…” He whispered, his voice breaking as his eyes frantically scanned your face, your chest, the knife protruding from it. And it paralyzed him.

“This can’t… not you. Not now. Not like this…” His voice cracked, he could see it, the blade in your chest, blood blossomed around the wound, strength and life draining from you like water slipping through his fingers, 

Your head lolled slightly to the side, and Steve saw the faint rise and fall of your chest as you opened your eyes.

“Steve…?” Your voice was weak.

And shit… he started to sob. Cause it was you, it was you. 

“You okay…?” You frowned and as you spoke, and you started to cough, blood all over your mouth. “Did I…hurt you…?”

“No, no, no, no…” His voice was barely audible, his fingers trembling and caressing your face, so softly and so fearful, he was scared to death that you could disappear at his mere touch. 

“Babe…you didn’t…you didn’t hurt me…please don’t speak…you are ok, you are safe…”

“John…Is he ok…?” Your voice whispers, each word a struggle. Blood trickled from the corner of your mouth as you forced the words out. 

“Hey princess…” John smiled at Steve’s side: “You kicked my ass pretty hard…but stay still ok? Don’t move…” His face was pale but resolute. “Steve, she’s alive, but we need to move. Now.”

You closed your eyes, and lingered in Steve’s touch in your face. His fingers soaked with blood and dust, yet there was the warmth you missed so much, every cell in your existence missed him, and you could feel his pain, and you knew he missed you too, but you were safe now, you were with him, you were home.

“Shit!” Tony was pale as he drove the iron unit beside you and injected you with a cryogenic wound-sealing mist, the freezing fog hissing as it rapidly hardened over the gash, staunching the bleeding in seconds, but still he couldn’t see the injuries inflicted inside you. “Ok, get her back to the quinjet, now!”

“We gotta move…” John looked at Steve and shouted back to the rest of the still fighting team: “Open a way for us!”

“Go! We’ve got this!” Natasha’s sharp command finally cut through the storm of the battle, she pressed her comms: “Sam, are you in position?!”

“15 seconds!” Sam waved through the air scanning the source building: “Do we have everything ready!?”

“Robert!” With the gaze fixed on the screen but mainly focusing on your wounds, Tony didn’t even turn around: “You ready?!”

“Ready!” Dr. Lin was in between panicking and crying and ready in front of his computer. 

“Medics bay to be ready in the quinjet, beta team, open a way for Captain Rogers and Walker.” Commanded Hill seeing the map: “Jet 1, prepare to fly, as soon they arrive you take off and take’em home, alright?”

“Come on Steve, we gotta move…!” John and Natasha transferred you onto a portable medic bed, the  wound-sealing mist Tony had applied bought precious moments, but the blood loss was staggering. Your breaths were shallow, each one weaker than the last.

“Steve!” John’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze clouding Steve’s mind. He grabbed Steve by the shoulders and gave him a rough shake. “We need to move! Now! She’s not gone! Do you hear me? We’re getting her out of here!”

Steve blinked, his breath hitching as reality crashed back in. His hands, still trembling, hovered over your bloodied form. “She… she—” he stammered, unable to finish the sentence.

“Focus, Cap!” John barked: “Wake the fuck up!”

With a firm grip on Steve’s arm, John pulled him to his feet. “Walk!” 

Steve’s body moved on autopilot, his mind screaming in anguish as he took his place. Together, they lifted you and began navigating through the chaos, the Beta team clearing a path back to the quinjet.

Steve’s eyes never left your face. 

“Stay with me.” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Babe, please, just stay with me. We’re almost there.”

Your head tilted slightly, and your lips moved as if you were trying to speak, but no sound came out. Steve leaned closer, his heart pounding. “I’m here. I’m right here. Don’t try to talk, just hold on.”

As they reached the quinjet ramp, the medics were already waiting, springing into action the moment the team arrived, hooking up monitors and stabilizing you as best they could. Steve refused to let go of your hand, his grip firm but gentle, his other hand brushing stray strands of hair from your face.

“Don’t close your eyes.” He begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to be okay. You’re safe now. We’re going home. Babe…look at me, please.”

But your body trembled, a coldness spreading through you that even the advanced medtech couldn’t stop. “Steve…” Your voice was faint, broken. “I’m… so… cold…”

“No.” He pleaded, his throat tight, tears welling in his eyes. “No, no, no. Don’t do this. Don’t shut down. Keep your eyes on me, okay? Just stay with me!”

But your fingers twitched weakly in his hand, a fleeting response that tore at his heart, and your eyes grew heavier, your breathing slower, your body was giving out, slipping further away despite his desperate words. 

“NO!” Steve’s cry of anguish echoed through the quinjet, raw and piercing. “No, no…please…Don’t… don’t…”

The medics worked furiously, but the room felt still, silent save for the beep of monitors and the hum of the engines. Steve knelt by your side, his hands clutching yours, his forehead pressed to your cold fingers. Desperation consumed him, but he refused to let go.

“You’re coming back to me.”

He whispered, his voice hoarse. “I won’t lose you. Not like this. Not now.”

TBC.

Continue to Chapter 12: Dawn

OMG I'm so sorry I didn't post last friday and left you in such a cliff hanger, but life is kicking my ass in the worst possible way, I'm actually writing this to escape TT_TT But hey, I loved writing every word of this chapter, specially the interaction of the group (I love writing fight scenes!), Dr Lin is always so fun to write, and mwaah to my John! He has turned out to be SO FUN to write! So I hope you enjoyed it reading it as I did! 🥰

See you next week! (hopefully, I promise I'll do my best!)

Love., Moon.࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

[emperordinozenmon]

Apex of Ferocity

Y'all lucked out Dinozen was gonna scrap this idea but its soo good. you can thank @leafostuff for helping Dinozen solidify the idea and concepts, and thank you to @faebled-stories for Tsuki fic sparking the idea. expect a smutty sequel from me later.

I walked into the IBPA (Investigative Bureau of Paranormal Activity) to a surprisingly calm and relaxed morning. Usually, the IBPA office was a hive of chaos—agents scrambling to respond to a new supernatural threat, researchers shouting over each other in the labs, or some unfortunate soul rushing a monster to containment. For the office to be this quiet was a rare and almost unsettling occurrence.

I headed straight to dispatch and saw my good friend Douglas working behind the counter. His usual bored expression shifted into a grin the moment he spotted me.

“Well, Agent Dino, it’s good to see you,” he said, far too pleasantly for my liking.

My eyes narrowed. Douglas was never this kind unless he wanted something. “Nope. Not happening,” I said preemptively, shaking my head. “I’m not taking on another case. I’m cashing in my vacation time before I lose it.”

Douglas sighed dramatically and leaned on the counter. “But you’re already heading in the direction, and it would be easy for you to hunt—”

I raised a hand to cut him off. “Not listening.”

He chuckled and changed tactics. “Okay, fine. Why are you here then?”

“Meeting with Retsu. She’s prepping me for the final Witch Hunter trial,” I explained.

His eyes lit up with amusement. “Oh, that’s today? Don’t you have to beat her in combat to pass?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered, and his laughter burst out immediately.

“Dude, she’s what, 9 feet tall? She’s beaten you how many times again?”

“776,” I replied flatly.

Douglas wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

With a thumbs-up, I walked off to the section of the building reserved for Witch Hunters. It was tucked away in a quiet wing, separate from the bustling main office. The long walk left me feeling slightly winded, but I eventually reached the familiar doors.

Retsu greeted me with a warm smile, towering over me as usual. She placed a massive hand on my head, giving it a gentle pat, which made me feel about five years old.

“Dinovaldo,” she said warmly. “On time for once.”

“Gotta keep you guessing,” I replied with a faint grin.

She chuckled, leading me into the training chamber. Her long black hair was braided neatly down her back, the sharpness of her features softened by her ever-present smile. Retsu had been my mentor since I joined the Witch Hunters, and even though we weren’t related, her presence felt maternal. She was fierce in combat and relentless in training, but she’d always been there for me when I needed guidance—or, more often, a reality check.

“You ready?” she asked, glancing down at me as we entered the arena.

“Not really,” I admitted.

Her laugh was deep and full of affection. “You’ve said that the last 776 times, too. I’m still proud of you, though.”

“Proud of what? Losing?” I asked wryly.

“Of getting back up,” she said simply, her voice gentle. “That’s the part that matters.”

Her words hit me harder than I’d like to admit, but I just nodded, not wanting to dwell on it. As we took our places in the arena, I summoned my weapon, Incursio: Tyrannolegend, its form shifting into a sleek, polished gun.

Retsu unsheathed her own weapon, Muramasa, the blood-red blade glinting ominously in the light. As always, she performed her ritual, slicing her palm along the edge of the sword. I winced as the blood dripped down the blade, activating its ominous aura.

“Are you ready, Dinovaldo?” she asked again, her smile still disarmingly calm.

I nodded and fired off a few shots to test the waters. She dodged with ease, her speed as overwhelming as ever. We fell into a familiar rhythm—me scrambling to keep my distance, her closing the gap faster than I could counter. This time, though, I had a trick up my sleeve.

When her blade came down toward me, I switched Tyrannolegend into its sword form and blocked the attack. Retsu blinked in surprise, the briefest flicker of pride crossing her face.

“Since when could you do that?” she asked.

“Defeat 215,” I replied. “Been saving it.”

“Oh, so you’ve been holding out on me in our sparring sessions?” she teased. “Guess I’ll have to beat the rest of your tricks out of you.”

I switched Tyrannolegend into massive Cestus with T-rex visages and slammed one toward her. She dodged, but the force created enough space for me to reposition.

“You’ve been holding out,” she said with a mock sigh.

“This is an actual test,” I shot back.

Her smile widened. “Fair point. A witch won’t hold back in a real fight. Neither will I.”

I saw her shift into a stance I knew all too well. Before she could execute her move, I transformed Tyrannolegend into a spear and hurled it at her. The weapon lit with energy as it flew, and her eyes widened slightly as it pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the wall.

I approached cautiously, trying not to let my guard down. “Do you yield?” I asked.

She nodded, clapping as I released her. “Well done, Dinovaldo. You’ve earned this.”

The relief hit me all at once, and I gave her a shaky thumbs-up before my legs buckled.

I woke up two hours later in the medbay, bandaged but alive. A note sat beside me in Retsu’s sharp handwriting:

“Have fun on the trip! Also, I finished Tyrannolegend’s Incursio ritual. You are now a Master Witch Hunter.”

The words brought a grin to my face despite the aches in my body. Retsu always had a way of showing she cared, even if she’d never admit it out loud.

The flight to Seoul was exciting but stressful. The home I’d be “renting” for the next three months was a bit out of the way and not in a high English-speaking neighborhood, but I made it despite my worries. Entering the apartment building felt strange. There was a pleasant aura that enveloped the place, something almost like magic but faint, subtle, like a lingering memory. It put me a little on edge, but I told myself to let it go. Not wanting to think about work, I climbed the stairs to the cozy one-bedroom apartment, collapsed onto the bed, and let sleep claim me for several hours.

The next morning—or midday, I guess, since jet lag still had me in a headlock—I ventured out to find food. A nearby café seemed like a good spot, so I made my way there.

Stepping in, I instinctively scanned the room. I didn’t mean to, but old habits die hard. Back home, walking into a place as a “darker-skinned foreigner” usually came with stares, awkward curiosity, or worse. But here, no one batted an eye. It was almost disorienting how normal it felt. My guard loosened, just a little.

That was when I saw her.

By the window, sitting in the corner by herself, was Tsuki—the Tsuki, from Billlie. I nearly froze in place. Out of all the faces in the café, hers seemed to glow like a beacon. Without thinking, I found my feet moving toward her.

“Excuse me,” I said as I reached her table. “Is this seat taken?”

She glanced up, startled, her eyes darting to the other open seats around the café. Her wary gaze lingered on me for a moment, sizing me up. For a brief second, I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

“No,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Taking her answer as permission, I ordered a breakfast platter and settled into the chair across from her. She was surprisingly quiet, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her. The silence between us felt thick, almost charged. I could tell she was aware of me, but she seemed content to let it sit there, unbroken.

Clearing my throat, I decided to take a chance. “Sorry about the abrupt circumstances,” I began. “My name’s Dinovaldo. Most people just call me Dino.”

She looked up from her notebook, her expression guarded but curious. “Are you American?” she asked.

I nodded, and she smiled faintly before laughing—a soft, musical sound that eased some of the tension between us.

“I can tell,” she said, teasingly. “You have the accent.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what does an ‘American accent’ sound like to you?” I challenged, my tone light but playfully defensive.

She grinned, leaning forward slightly. In charmingly accented English, she said, “Don’t worry. I like it, though.”

The unexpected compliment caught me off guard. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. It wasn’t often that someone disarmed me like that, but she had.

Her gaze shifted to my shirt, and her eyebrows raised in recognition. “Oh, you like Love Before World Domination?” she asked, closing her notebook.

I glanced down, realizing the logo on my shirt was a dead giveaway. “Yeah,” I said with a small laugh. “Hopeless toku fan right here.”

She tilted her head, her smile turning sly. “Oh, so the big scary man likes henshin heroes? Cute.”

Her teasing tone had a sharpness to it, but the glimmer in her eyes softened the words. I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “What can I say? They’re timeless.”

She studied me for a moment, her smile lingering. There was something feline about the way she carried herself—subtle, graceful, with an air of mischief. It wasn’t the bubbly energy she projected on stage. No, this was different. Her gaze was keen, appraising, like she was trying to figure out what made me tick.

At first, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“You’re not like I expected,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice had a slight edge to it, almost like she was testing the waters. “Most people who come up to me either want something or act like they’re trying to win a prize.”

I blinked at her, caught off guard by her bluntness. “And what do you think I want?” I asked, keeping my tone even.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt the weight of her scrutiny again. But before I could overthink it, her expression softened. “I’m still figuring that out,” she admitted with a small shrug.

“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “for what it’s worth, I’m just here for breakfast. Everything else is a bonus.”

That earned me a surprised laugh. It wasn’t the kind of polished, public laugh you’d expect from an idol—it was real, unfiltered. “You’re a weird one,” she said, shaking her head. “But… I guess that’s not a bad thing.”

I smiled, my guard dropping a little more. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she sat back, her wariness fading. I could see the shift in her now—the cautious cheetah turning into something more playful, almost trusting.

Here’s an expanded version of the scene, adding more lighthearted banter, subtle flirting, and cute dynamics between Dino and Tsuki:

“Alright, Dino,” she said, her tone lighter now, her smile growing playful. “Tell me—what’s your favorite henshin hero?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Kamen Rider Fourze.”

Tsuki’s lips curled into a sly, almost mischievous smile. She laughed, the sound warm but carrying a teasing edge. “Oh, that explains the friendliness,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her body language shifting. It wasn’t a retreat, though—it was more like she’d decided to test the waters, and suddenly I felt like the one being assessed.

Her gaze sharpened, turning predatory in the most disarming way possible. It wasn’t threatening; it was more like I’d unknowingly stepped into her game, and now she was setting the rules. For the first time in a while, I felt something strange welling up in my chest—a mixture of excitement and unease, like I was bracing for something I wasn’t sure I wanted to dodge. It was fleeting but enough to throw me off balance for just a moment.

“By the way, I’m Tsuki,” she said, as if her identity needed any introduction.

“I kind of knew that,” I replied with a small grin, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes narrowed as her smile turned sharper. “Oh, a bit of a fanboy, huh?” she teased, tilting her head.

I hesitated, unsure if denying it would make me seem disingenuous. Before I could respond, she reached over without warning and plucked a bite from my plate, popping it into her mouth with an air of triumph. “Thanks,” she said smugly, her gaze daring me to object.

“Hey!” I protested, laughing despite myself.

“What?” she asked innocently, her expression anything but. She chewed slowly, savoring the food like it tasted better just because it was mine. Then, with a glimmer in her eye, she asked, “So, who’s your bias?”

Her question caught me off guard, but I saw the trap for what it was. She expected me to name someone, probably her, and then she’d have the upper hand. I decided to flip the script.

Raising my hands in mock surrender, I shrugged dramatically. “Honestly? I don’t have one.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, the confident mask slipping for just a second. “Oh,” she said, blinking. “Well… fair, I guess.” She quickly recovered, whipping her hair back as if to reclaim the upper hand. “Still, not even a favorite member?”

“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair, trying not to smirk. “I think the whole group is great.”

Her smile twitched, a mix of amusement and challenge lighting up her expression. “Huh. Nice save,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “But you can’t fool me. I bet you secretly have a favorite. You’re just too chicken to say it.”

“Or maybe,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “I just appreciate talent where I see it.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but this time, there was no wariness left—just intrigue. She was about to retort when I decided to go for broke.

“You know,” I said softly, “you’re much prettier in real life.”

For a moment, her teasing confidence faltered, her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a mock-sweet tone. “Aww, you’re so sweet,” she cooed, fluttering her lashes exaggeratedly.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, okay, I walked into that one.”

Tsuki leaned back, a triumphant smile on her face. “You did,” she said, crossing her arms smugly. “But I’ll give you points for trying. Flattery works about half the time.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, crossing my arms in return. “What about the other half?”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, her gaze drifting over me. “That depends on how good the food is. Which reminds me…” She reached for another bite from my plate, this time without asking.

I grabbed my fork just in time, blocking her. “Nope. Not again.”

She pouted, her lower lip sticking out in a way that was probably illegal in several countries. “Aw, come on! Sharing is caring, Dino.”

“Yeah, but this is breakfast, and breakfast is sacred,” I countered, holding firm.

She tilted her head, pretending to consider this. “Okay, fine,” she said, leaning back with a mock-sigh of defeat. “But only because you called me pretty earlier.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Glad to know it’s not entirely wasted effort.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something between mischief and genuine warmth. For all her teasing, there was a softness to her now, like she’d let me peek behind the curtain just a little.

“Alright, Dino,” she said after a pause, resting her chin on her hand. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s see if you can keep it.”

And just like that, I realized I was in deeper than I thought—and I didn’t mind one bit.

“Alright, Dino,” she said, her chin resting on her hand as she grinned. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s see if you can keep it.”

Before I could respond, she glanced at the time on her phone and let out a small gasp. “Ah, shoot,” she muttered, more to herself than me. “I’ve got schedules.”

She started gathering her things, her notebook sliding into her bag with practiced ease. I felt a pang of disappointment—our conversation was far too short for my liking, and her leaving left an unexpected void.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair, feigning nonchalance, “you’re just gonna leave after stealing my food and winning all the banter?”

Tsuki paused, her gaze flicking back to me, and for a moment, her smile widened like she had just remembered one last play to make. “Stealing?” she said, stepping closer to the table. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

Then, without hesitation, she swooped in and snagged another bite off my plate, the fork disappearing into her mouth before I could react. She chewed slowly, her expression making it seem like this was the best meal she’d had all week. “Mmm,” she hummed, her voice playful. “Good taste, Dino. Very… refined.”

I shook my head, laughing. “You’re shameless.”

“Absolutely,” she said unapologetically, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It’s part of my charm.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

As she turned to leave, she paused by my chair, pulling out her phone. She tapped the screen a few times before handing it to me. “Here,” she said, holding it out. “Put your number in.”

Surprised, I looked up at her. “Oh, so now you want my number? What for, stealing more of my breakfast?”

“Maybe,” she teased, her grin turning sly. “Or maybe I’ll just text you to remind you how cute you looked, trying to keep up with me.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I punched in my number and handed her phone back. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She winked, slipping the phone into her bag. “I’ve been told.”

As she started toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder one last time. “Don’t forget to save my number. And, Dino?”

“Yeah?” I called after her.

“Next time, order extra food. You’ll need it,” she said, her voice full of teasing warmth. Then, with a final flash of that mischievous smile, she was gone, leaving me sitting there with an empty plate and a number saved in my phone.

I stared at the door long after she left, a grin creeping across my face. Yeah, she was definitely something else.

After Tsuki left, the haze in my head finally cleared, and the world seemed to snap back into regular time. It was like my body had been frozen in her presence, every movement slowed and deliberate, and now everything moved forward again, albeit with a lingering buzz of warmth from her smile. I shook my head, chuckling softly to myself as I finished the last bite of breakfast—what was left of it after Tsuki’s little theft, anyway—and headed back “home” for the day, determined to rest up and shake off the remnants of jet lag.

The next morning, my phone buzzed, pulling me from a half-dream where I was flying through space like Kamen Rider Fourze. I rubbed my eyes, grabbed my phone, and blinked at the screen: a message from Tsuki.

Hey, so what are you doing today?

A small smile crept onto my face as I quickly typed back, Um, get groceries, then probably going to the N Seoul Tower.

There was a pause, the kind that made me second-guess my decision to respond so quickly. Then, I saw the little “…” appear as she typed, and I could almost hear her thinking on the other end. Finally, her reply popped up.

That sounds fun. I have a bunch of dance training and recording for our new comeback. Make sure to take pictures for me, babe.

I stared at the last line, my eyes widening. Babe? Did she just call me babe? Was it intentional? A typo? Some kind of casual thing I was overthinking? My mind raced as I re-read the message a dozen times, trying to decipher the meaning. For a split second, I wondered if I was still dreaming. But I took a deep breath and grounded myself, the weight of my phone in my hand reminding me this was very real.

“Alright,” I muttered to myself, “let’s just take it slow.”

I went about my morning, showering and making plans to hit the local market before heading to N Seoul Tower. I was halfway through scribbling a shopping list when my phone rang. The name “Douglas” flashed on the screen, and I groaned. Douglas never called without a reason, and it was rarely a good one.

Reluctantly, I picked up. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Dino!” Douglas’ voice came through, loud and enthusiastic. “How’s Korea? You settling in alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Just enjoying the vacation. Taking it easy,” I replied, leaning back on the couch.

“Well,” he started, his tone shifting into the familiar, persuasive pitch he used when he wanted something, “how would you feel about shaking things up a bit? There’s a new witch popping up, and it’s close enough that—”

“Nope,” I cut him off.

“C’mon, man, hear me out—”

“Nope.”

“Look, I know you’re technically on vacation,” Douglas said, his voice heavy with exaggerated patience, “but this is a perfect opportunity. Fresh witch, untrained, probably not even a real challenge for you. In and out. Easy.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Douglas, I’m on vacation. You know what that word means, right? No witch hunting. No chasing down supernatural drama. Just me, some sightseeing, and…” My mind flicked briefly to Tsuki’s text, and I hesitated before adding, “…meeting people.”

Douglas snorted. “Meeting people, huh? Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There’s not,” I said quickly, too quickly.

“Oh, there definitely is,” he shot back, amused. “Fine, fine. Have your little break, but don’t come crying to me when this witch gets out of control and you’re stuck dealing with the fallout. Just saying.”

“Thanks for the concern,” I said dryly. “I’ll keep that in mind while I’m not chasing witches halfway across the globe. Talk later.” I hung up before he could argue further and tossed my phone onto the couch with a groan.

Why couldn’t Douglas just leave it alone? I wasn’t even sure I wanted to keep hunting witches at all anymore, but that was a conversation for another time. Right now, I had a day to enjoy.

A ping from my phone pulled my attention, and I glanced at the screen. Another message from Tsuki:

Don’t forget those pictures, okay?

A small laugh escaped me as I grabbed my shopping list and headed out the door. Whatever was going on with her—and with me—was a whole lot more interesting than chasing witches.

After picking up my groceries, I make my way back home. Just as I round the corner to the stairwell, I nearly bump straight into Tsuki. She startles slightly, her wide eyes locking with mine for a brief moment before her expression shifts. Slowly, her lips curve into that signature predatory smile that had already burned itself into my memory.

“You just couldn’t stay away, huh?” she teases, her voice a silken drawl as her fingers trail a slow line down my chest, brushing lightly between the bags of groceries I’m carrying.

I blink at her, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, and then stammer, “Uh, I think this is just a coincidence. I’m renting an apartment on the fifth floor.”

For a second, Tsuki looks genuinely surprised. Her brow lifts, her mouth parts slightly, and then her smile returns—only this time it’s sharper, almost mischievous. She tilts her head, her gaze narrowing as if she’s sizing me up all over again. “Oh, so you’re right under us,” she says, her voice laced with playful implication.

Before I can respond, another voice cuts through the charged air between us.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Moon Sua, Tsuki’s group mate and leader, calls out, her tone half-teasing, half-impatient. “I want to take a shower and nap before we all turn into pumpkins.”

Tsuki doesn’t pull back immediately, though. Instead, she lingers close, her eyes flicking from Sua back to me, her earlier boldness softening just slightly. “Guess I’ll see you around, neighbor,” she says, her tone still flirtatious but no longer as biting.

I lead the way up the stairs, Tsuki and Sua following closely behind. When I pause in front of my door to unlock it, they stop as well. Tsuki leans casually against the railing, her gaze roaming the hallway like she’s trying to memorize it.

“You really live here, huh?” she says, her voice quieter now, almost contemplative.

“I didn’t plan any of this,” I blurt out, gesturing vaguely between us, the groceries, and the building as if I need to defend myself.

Sua laughs softly, crossing her arms. “We believe you,” she says, though there’s a teasing edge in her voice. “But don’t think this means we’ll go easy on you if you cause trouble.”

Tsuki doesn’t join in on the teasing this time. Instead, she just looks at me. Her predatory edge has dulled entirely, replaced by something gentler. Her eyes are softer now, searching mine as if she’s trying to read me. Then, with a small smile, she turns and follows Sua upstairs without another word.

As I watch them disappear, two distinct feelings settle over me. The first is that odd, almost magical sensation I’d felt when I first arrived at the apartment. The second is a warmth in my chest, one that lingers even after I close the door behind me.

Later, after I’ve unpacked my groceries and am about to settle in, there’s a knock at my door.

When I open it, Tsuki is standing there, dressed down in grey sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. The shift in her demeanor is immediate and striking—gone is the teasing vixen from earlier. Now she looks almost shy, her hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie as she glances up at me.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Before I can ask why she’s here, she leans in and wraps her arms around me in a loose but warm hug. The gesture is so unexpected, so different from the confident, sharp-edged girl I met yesterday, that I freeze for a moment.

Her voice is muffled slightly against my shoulder as she says, “I know you wanted to see the N Seoul Tower today… but can we just hang out for a bit instead?”

I pull back enough to look at her, and the vulnerability in her expression catches me off guard. This isn’t the same Tsuki who teased me relentlessly or appraised me with that piercing gaze. This is someone softer, someone who—at least for now—seems content to just be.

“Sure,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips.

She lights up at my response, her earlier hesitation melting away into something more familiar, though still calmer. “Great! I brought snacks, but… oh, wait—did you already eat? Or can I just steal some of your food again?” she asks, her voice light and teasing as she peeks toward my kitchen.

I chuckle and shake my head. “You might as well, since you’re here.”

We settle onto the couch, and before long, we’re watching Kaguya-sama: Love is War. Tsuki leans against me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we laugh at the antics of the characters on screen. There’s a warmth to her presence now, something that feels less like a game and more like genuine comfort.

For the first time since I arrived in Seoul, I don’t feel like a stranger in a new place. And as Tsuki’s soft laughter fills the room, I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Later that evening, as we’re halfway through an episode of Kaguya-sama: Love is War, I notice Tsuki’s gaze drifting. At first, I think she’s losing interest in the show, but then I realize her eyes are locked on my arm.

“What’s this?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing over the faint, jagged scar that runs along my forearm. Her touch is light but curious, and she looks up at me with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation.

I glance at the scar, then at her, hesitating for a moment. “It’s… kind of a long story,” I say, my voice careful.

Tsuki smiles, her expression warm and encouraging. “I’ve got time,” she says, settling in closer to me. “Besides, I’m great at listening—and judging, if needed.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head. “Okay, okay,” I start, leaning back against the couch. “So, a while back, I was volunteering on a paleontology dig. It was this remote site where they’d found some pretty rare dinosaur fossils. I was mostly there to help with grunt work—hauling dirt, reinforcing trenches, stuff like that—but I’ve always loved dinosaurs, so it felt like a dream come true.”

Tsuki perks up at the mention of dinosaurs, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Wait, wait—you’re a dinosaur nerd?” she asks, cutting in. “That’s… honestly adorable.”

“Hey, I’m telling a story here!” I protest, though I can’t help but smile.

“Fine, fine,” she says, biting her lip to stifle a grin. “Go on, dino boy.”

I roll my eyes but continue. “Anyway, one day, we were working in this trench, and it was pretty deep—like ten or twelve feet. The lead paleontologist, Dr. Patel, was down there with me, and we were trying to excavate this massive femur. But then… the walls started to collapse. There wasn’t much time to react. I saw Dr. Patel freeze, and without thinking, I pushed her out of the way. She made it, but I… didn’t exactly get out unscathed.”

Tsuki gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says, her voice hushed.

I nod. “Yeah. The trench caved in on me, and a lot of my bones were either crushed or fractured. It was bad. They got me out pretty quickly, but when I woke up in the hospital, the doctors were saying things like ‘limited mobility’ and ‘permanent damage.’ Dr. Patel, though—she was different. She was this genius paleontologist and a bit of a mad scientist on the side. She didn’t want to lose me or see me stuck like that after I saved her.”

Tsuki leans in closer, completely captivated. “What did she do?”

“Well,” I say, letting the suspense hang for a moment, “she had this idea. A crazy one. Some of the fossils we’d found were in pristine condition, and apparently, some of the material had regenerative properties when bonded with human bone. So, she asked if I’d let her… experiment.”

Tsuki’s jaw drops, and she smacks my arm. “Wait—you’re telling me you’ve got dinosaur bones in you?!”

“Pretty much,” I admit with a sheepish smile. “She grafted parts of the fossils to my damaged bones, and it actually worked. My body healed. I’m not saying I’m part dinosaur or anything—”

“But you are part dinosaur,” Tsuki cuts in, her grin wide. “Oh my god, you’re like some kind of dino cyborg!”

“Okay, now you’re just making it weird,” I say, laughing despite myself.

“No, no, this is amazing,” Tsuki says, her excitement bubbling over. She sits up, crossing her legs and turning to face me fully. “So, what—you’ve got, like, super strength or dino instincts now? Do you randomly crave raw meat?”

I groan. “It’s not like that. I’m still just a guy. The only real difference is that my bones are a little stronger, and sometimes they ache when the weather changes.”

Tsuki pouts, clearly disappointed. “You’re telling me you don’t even roar or anything? What’s the point?”

“You’re impossible,” I say, shaking my head.

She giggles, leaning back into me, her earlier teasing softening into something more affectionate. “Seriously, though, that’s incredible. And… kind of heroic, saving Dr. Patel like that. I mean, you sacrificed yourself for her.”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“It was, though,” she insists, her voice quieter now. “And it just makes me like you even more.”

The way she says it—so simple, so earnest—makes my chest tighten. Before I can respond, though, she’s back to teasing.

“So, tell me,” she says, her grin returning. “Was this whole dinosaur thing fate, or were you just born to love dinos? Like, did baby Dino collect T-Rex toys?”

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Maybe a little bit of both. I mean, I did go through a phase where I tried to convince my parents I was a velociraptor.”

Tsuki gasps dramatically. “Oh my god, that’s adorable. You’re like a walking dino encyclopedia, aren’t you?”

“Guilty,” I admit, grinning.

She sighs happily, leaning her head on my shoulder again. “Well, dino boy,” she says softly, her voice tinged with affection, “you’re officially the coolest guy I’ve ever met. Literally.”

For the rest of the night, we don’t watch much of the show. Instead, she peppers me with questions about dinosaurs and the dig, her fascination turning what could have been an embarrassing story into something that feels… special.

It was late, and the quiet hum of the city filtered in through my open window. Tsuki had just left after another evening of teasing, laughter, and watching anime. I was tidying up when my phone buzzed.

“Forgot something. Coming back down,” her text read.

A knock came moments later. When I opened the door, Tsuki stood there with an apologetic smile, her hand tucked behind her back. “I left my bracelet,” she said, brushing past me and scanning the room.

“Uh, I don’t remember seeing one,” I said, following her.

She made a beeline for the couch, crouching down and checking underneath. “Ah, found it,” she said, holding up a delicate silver chain with a small charm—a crescent moon.

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t there five minutes ago,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

Tsuki shrugged, but there was a flicker of something mischievous in her expression. “You must’ve missed it,” she said lightly, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist.

I wasn’t convinced, but before I could press further, the light above us flickered. Once, then twice, before going out completely.

“Great,” I muttered, fumbling for my phone flashlight.

“Wait,” Tsuki said quickly, her voice unusually firm. “Don’t.”

I paused, looking over at her in the dim light. Her expression was… different. Serious. Focused.

“What are you—”

She raised her hand, palm up, and for a split second, I thought I saw a faint glow—a soft, silvery light that danced along her fingertips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and before I could even process it, the overhead light flickered back to life, steady and bright.

Tsuki straightened, her usual playful smile sliding back into place as if nothing had happened. “See? Problem solved,” she said, brushing her hands together.

I blinked at her. “What… was that?”

“What was what?” she asked innocently, tilting her head.

“The lights,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling. “They just… fixed themselves?”

“Maybe the wiring just needed a second to chill,” she said, casually brushing past me toward the door. “Anyway, thanks for letting me grab my bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow, dino boy.”

Before I could respond, she slipped out, leaving me standing there, more confused than ever. I glanced at the couch where she’d “found” her bracelet, then at the door she’d just closed.

For a moment, I thought back to the way the air had seemed to shift when the lights went out—heavy, electric, and charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

I shook my head. “Must be the jet lag,” I muttered to myself, turning off the lights and heading to bed.

Still, as I lay there, I couldn’t shake the image of her hand, glowing faintly in the darkness.

After that I finished unpacking my groceries.After unpacking the groceries and settling onto the couch, I let out a long sigh. My phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with Retsu’s name. I debated letting it ring, but guilt pushed me to pick up.

“Hey, Retsu,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Dino,” she said softly, her voice immediately grounding me like it always did. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you holding up?”

I leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess.”

Her sigh on the other end was subtle but heavy with understanding. “It’s no surprise. You’ve been running yourself ragged these past few years. You’ve never really let yourself rest.”

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of the job, isn’t it?” I said, trying to downplay the weight in my chest.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her voice warm and gentle, “but you’re not a machine, Dino. You’re still human, even with everything you’ve been through. You deserve a break.”

Her kindness made my throat tighten. Retsu had always been like a second mother to me—always looking out for me, even when I didn’t think I needed it.

“I’m trying to take one now,” I said, my voice quieter.

“I know, and I’m glad you are,” she said, her tone softening even more. “But I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t think it was important. There’s something stirring in Seoul, Dino. Something we haven’t seen before. I wouldn’t ask you to get involved unless I thought you could handle it. But… I also won’t push you. If you’re not ready, I understand.”

Her words caught me off guard. I had been expecting her usual insistence, but instead, she sounded… careful. Like she was trying not to hurt me.

“I don’t know, Retsu,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “I came here to clear my head. I don’t even know if this is who I am anymore.”

“You don’t have to decide that today,” she said gently. “Take your time. But promise me something?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t shut yourself off from the world. Let yourself feel things, experience things. If you let your heart lead you, I think you’ll find your way.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of her words settling over me. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, her voice warm with approval. “And Dino?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve always been stronger than you give yourself credit for. Whatever path you choose, I’ll always be here for you. Don’t forget that, okay?”

A lump formed in my throat, and I had to swallow hard before responding. “Thanks, Retsu.”

“You’re welcome, my boy,” she said, a faint smile in her voice. “Take care of yourself. And… be careful out there.”

Before I could hang up, her voice softened even further. “Wait, Dino. One more thing. You’ve seemed… different lately. Lighter, almost. Is there something—someone—making you smile?”

I froze for a moment, caught off guard. Then, without thinking, I said, “There’s this girl.”

Retsu chuckled on the other end, a sound full of warmth and encouragement. “Oh? Tell me about her.”

I hesitated, a smile creeping onto my face despite myself. “Her name’s Tsuki. She’s… different. Confident, funny, kind of overwhelming at first, but in a good way. And she’s so full of life, like she’s daring the world to keep up with her.”

Retsu hummed thoughtfully, her tone teasing. “Sounds like she’s made quite the impression on you.”

“She has,” I admitted, my voice softening. “She’s not just… some random person. There’s something about her. When I’m with her, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I can just be myself, without everything else hanging over me.”

Retsu was quiet for a moment before speaking again, her voice full of tenderness. “It sounds like she’s good for you, Dino. And I can tell she means a lot to you already.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “She does. But… I’m worried, too.”

“Why?”

“Because of who I am. What I’ve done. What if she finds out and…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“Dino,” Retsu said firmly but gently, “you deserve happiness, just like anyone else. If this girl is as special as you say she is, then give her the chance to see the real you. You might be surprised at how strong she is.”

Her words settled in my chest, warm and reassuring. “Thanks, Retsu.”

“Always,” she said softly. “Now, go on and enjoy your time with her. The rest will figure itself out.”

I was running late, the result of spending far too much time debating whether my outfit was too casual or trying too hard. When I finally arrived at the park, Tsuki was already there, perched on a bench under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. She wore a simple sundress, white with small floral patterns, and her hair was loose, flowing like a soft curtain around her shoulders.

She didn’t notice me at first, her focus on the sky above. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her. She looked peaceful, almost otherworldly, like she belonged to this quiet corner of the world more than anyone else.

“Are you just going to stare, or are you going to join me?” she called, turning her head with a smirk.

I laughed, walking up to her. “How’d you know I was here?”

She tapped her temple. “Intuition. I’m good at sensing things.”

We started walking along the park trail, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above. She was full of energy, asking me questions about my time in Korea so far, teasing me whenever I gave a hesitant answer. But as we reached a quieter part of the trail, her demeanor shifted slightly, becoming softer, more introspective.

“You know,” she said, brushing her hand against the petals of a low-hanging branch, “this spot is one of my favorites. It feels… alive. Like it has its own rhythm.”

“I can see that,” I said, glancing around. The air did feel different here—lighter, warmer.

She stopped and turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. “Do you ever feel like there’s more to the world than what we see?”

It was an odd question, but there was something in the way she asked it that made me pause. “I guess so,” I said carefully. “Like… there’s stuff out there we can’t explain?”

Tsuki smiled faintly, her fingers trailing along the bark of a nearby tree. “Exactly. Sometimes I think people get too caught up in what’s ‘normal.’ They don’t notice the small, magical things happening all around them.”

She looked at me then, her gaze intense but kind. “You seem different, though. Like you might actually notice.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been a little curious about things. Or maybe just weird.”

She laughed, the sound light and musical. “Weird is good. Weird is… charming.”

We kept walking, eventually settling on a grassy hill overlooking a pond. We sat close together, and I noticed her playing with her bracelet—the same crescent moon charm I’d seen before.

“Is that special to you?” I asked, nodding toward it.

She hesitated, her fingers pausing. “Yeah. It was a gift.”

“From someone important?”

Tsuki tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “You could say that. It’s kind of like… a reminder. Of who I am. Or maybe who I’m supposed to be.”

Before I could ask more, a sudden gust of wind blew through the park, scattering petals into the air. They swirled around us, catching the light in a way that felt almost deliberate, like the wind had chosen that moment just for us.

“Wow,” I said, watching the petals dance. “That’s… beautiful.”

Tsuki smiled, her eyes following the petals. “It is, isn’t it?”

There was something in her tone, like she knew more about what was happening than she let on. She reached out, catching a petal in her hand and holding it out to me. “Here. A little souvenir.”

I took it, my fingers brushing against hers. The touch lingered longer than it should have, but neither of us pulled away.

“You’re full of surprises,” I said, looking at her.

“You have no idea,” she replied, her smile playful but her eyes holding a depth that made my chest feel tight.

As we walked back toward the entrance of the park, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something extraordinary about her—something just out of reach. And yet, I didn’t care. Whatever it was, I wanted to know her more.

Over the next few days, Tsuki and I bonded over music, anime, and video games. She had this infectious enthusiasm that pulled me into her world effortlessly. When we weren’t geeking out over the latest Demon Slayer episode or arguing over who had the better K-pop playlists, we were out exploring Seoul—Hongdae, Gwangjang Market, Myeongdong. Every street seemed brighter with her beside me.

By the end of my first week, something shifted between us. Tsuki… well, she kinda asked me out. Let me explain: as we spent more time together, her emotional state changed. The flirtatious, dizzying vixen I first met gave way to someone softer, clingier, and—dare I say—sweeter. She became an affectionate, lovesick bunny, and I finally understood how she’d earned that nickname.

If we could be together, we were. Always. She was constantly reaching out, whether it was grabbing my hand, looping her arm through mine, or wrapping me in spontaneous hugs. She craved physical affection in a way that made it impossible not to reciprocate. Her energy, which was already high when we met, seemed to triple whenever I was around. We were always doing something—or on our way to do something else—whenever she “borrowed me,” as she put it.

Part of me loved it. Part of me found it exhausting. It was like being swept up in a whirlwind I didn’t know I’d stepped into.

By the time my third week in Seoul ended, I realized I’d done nearly everything I’d planned for this trip—except visit the N Seoul Tower. The one thing I’d wanted to do solo had slipped through the cracks, buried under a mountain of late-night game marathons, impromptu karaoke sessions, and hours spent wandering the city with Tsuki.

We were sitting in a cozy corner booth at her favorite café that day, the soft hum of chatter and clinking mugs offering a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of the streets. Tsuki, of course, was the opposite of calm.

“You’re so wrong about that!” she exclaimed, waving a forkful of cheesecake at me. “How can you think the opening to Attack on Titan is better than Demon Slayer? Like, no contest!”

“It’s objectively better,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “The vocals? The composition? It’s iconic.”

She groaned dramatically, collapsing against the booth. “You’re hopeless, Dinovaldo. Completely hopeless.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “And yet here you are, stuck with me.”

“Stuck? Please,” she said, sitting upright again with a teasing grin. “I chose this. You’re like my favorite toy. I don’t just toss you aside.”

The comment caught me off guard, but before I could respond, she reached across the table to steal a bite of my sandwich.

“Hey!” I protested, though I didn’t really care.

She grinned, chewing triumphantly. “You shouldn’t leave it unattended. Rookie mistake.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat. Watching her bask in her small victory, I felt that warm, confusing pull in my chest again. She had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the world, even when she was teasing me to no end.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her tone softening as she looked at me. “You’re quiet. What’s up?”

“Just… thinking,” I said, glancing out the window. “I’ve been here almost a month now. Time’s flying by.”

Her face fell slightly, and for the first time in days, she seemed to sit still. “Oh. Right. You’re leaving soon.”

There was a pause, the kind that made my chest tighten uncomfortably.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, “I’ve really liked having you around. You make everything feel… I don’t know. Better?”

Her honesty caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to hearing her so vulnerable, and it made me feel guilty for ever thinking she was too much.

“I’ve liked being around you too,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck. “It’s been… different, in a good way.”

She smiled, a softer one than her usual cheeky grin, and it made my chest tighten all over again.

“Then let’s keep making memories while we can,” she said, suddenly back to her high-energy self. “Starting with me absolutely crushing you in Mario Kart later.”

I laughed, the tension easing. “You’re on, bunny.”

Later, as we strolled back to my apartment, she suddenly stopped in front of a street vendor selling handmade bracelets.

“Wait, wait!” she said, tugging my sleeve. “Look at these!”

Before I could respond, she was already chatting with the vendor, her eyes sparkling as she held up a delicate bracelet with tiny charms shaped like stars and moons.

“This one’s cute,” she said, holding it up to me. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” I said, smiling at her enthusiasm.

She handed it to the vendor, along with another bracelet—this one with little dinosaur charms.

“For you,” she said, slipping it onto my wrist before I could protest. “Now you can’t forget me, even when you go back home.”

I looked at the bracelet, then at her, feeling that now-familiar warmth in my chest. “Thanks, Tsuki.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked.

And for the first time, I realized I didn’t want this whirlwind to end.

“So, what are you planning to do today?” Tsuki asked, practically bouncing in her seat, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at me with that eager look she always had. “You better be planning something fun! I mean, you’re in the city, you can’t just sit around!”

I laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire thoughts. “I was thinking of seeing some of the sights, maybe going to the N Seoul Tower.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, and before I could say anything else, she nearly hopped out of her seat. “Oh my god, yes! That sounds amazing! We should totally go together, I’ve always wanted to check it out with someone fun!” She leaned across the table, suddenly much closer than I expected, her grin wide and full of energy.

I blinked in surprise, not quite prepared for how enthusiastic she was. “Uh, sure, if you want,” I said, unsure whether it was just the coffee or Tsuki’s presence making my heart race a little faster.

“Of course I want! I want to see everything! I love exploring, and I’m gonna make sure you have the best time ever!” Tsuki’s energy was contagious, and for a moment, I found myself caught up in it. She reached over, ruffling my hair playfully. “You’re just too cute, you know that?”

I laughed, trying to play it cool, though I was clearly flustered. “Thanks, I guess? You really know how to make someone feel… special.”

“Of course I do!” Tsuki’s grin grew wider, and she leaned even closer, her face inches from mine now. “You’re one of my favorite people already. It’s like we’ve known each other forever!” She placed her hand on mine, squeezing it tightly. “I’m serious, Dino. I’ve got this feeling, and I know it’s gonna be amazing. You’re gonna love spending time with me!”

Her words were filled with such affection, and her smile was practically glowing. It was hard not to feel the warmth of her presence, as if her energy was completely infectious.

“Well, if you’re that excited about it, how can I say no?” I replied, half-laughing, half-lost in her enthusiasm.

Tsuki leaned back slightly, eyes twinkling. “Exactly! You’ll thank me later, I promise.” She suddenly looked at me with a playful smirk. “But first, are you gonna finish that pastry or do I need to help you out?”

I blinked at her, confused for a moment, but before I could answer, she grabbed the last piece of my pastry and took a big bite, all while laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. “Mmm, you really have good taste, Dino,” she teased, licking her lips.

I shook my head, trying to hide my smile. “That’s… that’s my food, Tsuki.”

She just shrugged with a grin. “I know. But I’m your friend, right? Friends share everything!” She leaned in closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. “And I’m totally gonna make sure you’re happy on this little adventure of ours. I just know you’re gonna fall for this city once we’re done.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how carefree and affectionate she was. It was almost as if she couldn’t help herself, her excitement and energy just spilling over. But the thing was—there was something about it that felt… nice. Warm. Comfortable. Like a constant, reassuring presence.

She rested her head on my shoulder for a moment, still holding my hand, completely unbothered by the affectionate gesture. “I’m serious, though,” she said, her voice much softer now, “I’m really glad we’re hanging out. I like being around you, Dino.” Her tone had shifted from playful to something sweeter, more genuine. “You’re one of the easiest people to talk to, and I can’t wait to make more memories with you.”

I felt a strange warmth spread through my chest, her words wrapping around me in a way that made me feel like I was part of something bigger than just a random meeting.

Before I could respond, Tsuki was already back to her high-energy self, her eyes wide with excitement again. “So, are we going to the tower now or what?”

I smiled, completely charmed by her infectious energy. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She grinned ear to ear, squeezing my hand once more before practically dragging me out of my seat. “Yesss! I knew you’d be the best! This is gonna be SO much fun!”

The date started with the golden hues of twilight painting the sky as Tsuki grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the base of N Seoul Tower. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy spilling over into hurried footsteps and constant chatter.

“Finally, the tower!” she exclaimed, bouncing slightly as we reached the cable car station. “Can you believe we almost didn’t do this? I mean, this is like the iconic Seoul date spot. You’re lucky to have me planning things.”

“Planning?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t I bring this up like three weeks ago?”

Tsuki stopped mid-step, turning to pout at me. “Okay, fine, maybe it was your idea. But who actually made it happen?” She jabbed a finger into my chest, her eyes narrowing in mock accusation.

“Point taken,” I said, chuckling. “You’re definitely the brains of this operation.”

“And don’t forget it,” she said, her pout melting into a triumphant grin as she pulled me into the cable car.

The ride up was breathtaking. The city stretched out below us in an endless sea of lights, twinkling like stars on Earth. But even with that view, I couldn’t take my eyes off Tsuki. Her face was pressed against the glass, her eyes wide with wonder, and her excitement was contagious.

“Look at that!” she said, pointing at the illuminated tower as we approached. “Isn’t it magical?”

“It’s pretty amazing,” I admitted, though I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the view or her.

When we finally reached the top, Tsuki immediately dragged me to the observation deck. She was practically bouncing on her toes as we walked around, taking in the panoramic view of Seoul.

“This is it,” she said, stopping at the railing and leaning over slightly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

I nodded, standing beside her. “Yeah, it is.”

She glanced at me, her usual energy dimming for a moment as a shy smile crept across her face. “Thanks for coming here with me, Dino. This… this means a lot.”

Before I could respond, she tugged on my arm. “Come on, let’s do the locks!”

She pulled me over to the section of the deck filled with colorful padlocks, each one a promise of love left by couples from all over the world. Tsuki rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small, heart-shaped lock and a marker.

“I got this earlier,” she said, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I thought it’d be fun, you know?”

I watched as she scribbled her name on one half of the lock, then handed the marker to me. My heart pounded in my chest as I wrote my name beside hers.

“Perfect,” she said, grinning as she clipped the lock onto the railing. “Now we’re officially part of the tower’s history.”

There was a pause, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Tsuki turned to face me, her usual high energy replaced with something softer, more vulnerable.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, “I’ve been thinking a lot about… us.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “You make me feel… different. Like I’m more myself when I’m with you. I know I’m all over the place and maybe too much sometimes, but—”

“Tsuki,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “You’re not too much. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Then, as if some invisible wall had broken, she stepped closer, her hands reaching for mine.

“I really like you, Dinovaldo,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I really like you too,” I replied, the words coming out before I could even think.

Her smile lit up the night, and in that moment, it felt like the entire city disappeared. But as we stood there, something strange happened.

The air around her seemed to shimmer faintly, like heat waves rising from the pavement on a summer day. It was subtle at first, but then I felt it—a warmth spreading through my chest, a gentle, all-encompassing comfort that felt like a hug for my soul.

I blinked, looking at her in confusion. “Tsuki… what is that?”

She froze, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught. “What’s what?”

“That… feeling,” I said, struggling to put it into words. “It’s like… warmth. But not physical. It’s coming from you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she stepped back slightly, breaking eye contact. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tsuki,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “I felt it. Don’t lie to me.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Okay, fine. But… can we talk about it later? Tonight’s supposed to be special.”

I wanted to press her, to demand answers, but the look in her eyes stopped me. Instead, I nodded. “Okay. Later.”

Her smile returned, though it was a little shaky. She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine. “Thank you, Dino. For everything.”

As we stood there, gazing out at the city lights, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was the start of something much bigger than either of us could have imagined. Something magical.

The subtle shimmer around Tsuki intensified as we stood on the observation deck. The warmth I’d felt earlier was no longer faint—it wrapped around me like a cocoon, seeping into every corner of my being. The feeling wasn’t just comforting; it was electric, powerful, and alive.

And it was coming from Tsuki.

I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. Her usual high-energy glow had transformed into something otherworldly. The air around her seemed to ripple, faint tendrils of soft pink light swirling around her like an aurora. It was mesmerizing, but also terrifying.

“Tsuki…” My voice came out as a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the city below. “What’s happening?”

She froze, her fingers still entwined with mine. Her wide eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw fear flicker across her face. “Dino,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Find out what?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

Tsuki took a deep breath, her hands clutching mine as if grounding herself. The swirling light around her grew stronger, more defined, taking on the shape of tiny hearts that floated upward before dissolving into the night. “I… I’m a witch, Dino. A love witch.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. A witch. She was a witch.

I’d spent years hunting her kind, carrying out the mission that Retsu had entrusted to me. Witches were dangerous, deceitful, and destructive. They weren’t supposed to be… Tsuki.

My mind raced, piecing together all the moments that hadn’t made sense—the way I felt so inexplicably drawn to her, the way her presence could shift my emotions, the warmth that seemed to radiate from her. It was all her magic.

“You’re a witch,” I said, more to myself than to her. My head screamed at me to pull away, to remember my training, to see her as the enemy. But my heart refused to let go.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But I’m still me, Dino. I’m still the same girl who loves anime, video games, and exploring Seoul with you. I didn’t want to use my magic on you, but sometimes… sometimes it’s hard to control.”

Her confession was raw, vulnerable, and it shattered something inside me. Despite everything I knew—or thought I knew—I couldn’t bring myself to see her as a threat. She wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t deceitful. She was just Tsuki.

As I stood there, torn between my duty and my feelings, she stepped closer, her gaze searching mine. “Dino, I understand if you hate me now,” she said, her voice trembling. “But please believe me when I say I didn’t mean to make you feel anything you didn’t already feel.”

I stared at her, my mind spinning. Did I feel this way because of her magic? Or was it real? The questions swirled in my head, but one thing was clear: whatever this was, it wasn’t something I could fight.

“I don’t hate you,” I said finally, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the shimmering light around her stilled. “You don’t?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I know I can’t hate you. You’re… you’re too important to me.”

Her lips parted, and the light around her flared again, brighter this time. It pulsed, synchronizing with the pounding of my heart. “Dino,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Before I could think, before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in. Her breath hitched, and then our lips met.

The moment we kissed, the magic surged, enveloping us in a burst of energy. I felt it wrap around us, binding us together in a way that went beyond the physical. It wasn’t just warmth anymore—it was a blazing fire, a connection so deep and overwhelming that it left me breathless.

Images flashed through my mind, memories of every moment we’d shared: her laughter, her touch, the way she looked at me like I was the only person in the world. And then there were glimpses of her—a younger Tsuki, alone and scared, her magic blooming for the first time, the joy and pain that had shaped her into the woman she was now.

When we finally broke apart, I was trembling. She was too, her hands clutching my arms as if afraid to let go. “Dino,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “our souls… they’re connected now.”

I didn’t fully understand what she meant, but I could feel it—this invisible thread that tied us together, stronger than anything I’d ever known. It wasn’t just her magic. It was us.

“I don’t know what this means,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “But I know I don’t want to lose you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she smiled—a smile so radiant it outshone the city lights. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I promise.”

As we stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I realized that everything had changed. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t imagine it without her.