#dead plate fa

[mikqchoux]

[danchkkk]

Dead plate akty collab w @/ykkmwmwrt1 (Akito's part, twi) 🙌‼️

[gyutopia]

world of sinners i | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the Lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft brother!sungchan

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 9.0k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of prostitution, drugs, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, consumption of alcohol.

— T E R M I N O L O G Y: abeonim ; father

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: this is the revamped version of my fic! the original can be found on @vintagejaemin, this was originally meant to be for ateez but i’ve decided to turn it into an enha fic ! :)

masterlist | next

“I’m stepping down.”

The dining room is silent. You stop cutting your steak to look up from your plate into your father's eyes. He returns your gaze and waits for you to question him, but you don’t. Instead, you turn your attention to your glass of Sauvignon blanc.

You hear your older brother clear his throat before placing down his utensils and addresses your father. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought this about?”

You pick up your wine glass and swirl it around before bringing it up to your lips to finish it off. Your father's eyes flicker to you but you’re too busy trying to get drunk to notice.

Dinner with your family is something you’ve always dreaded. The atmosphere was always stuffy: elbows off the table, sit up straight, chew with your mouth shut, take small bites, make pleasant conversation, don't talk with your mouth full, finish your plate, use your napkin, ask for permission to leave the table. It felt like a chore rather than a meal.

Often, you could get out of family dinners by giving your father some bullshit excuse but tonight he wasn’t buying any of them. He claimed he and your mother needed to discuss something important with you and your brother. You guess this is pretty important news.

Your father clears his throat and swirls the whisky in his glass, the sound of ice clinking against the glass reverberates within the room.

“Well, Sungchan, I figured it was time you took over. The transition might be a long one, I have things I need to take care of but once everything is settled, the throne is yours.”

You place your glass back onto the table and sit straighter in your seat. You look at your mother but she makes a point to avoid your eyes. You pull your gaze away from her and turn to look at Sungchan who’s sat by your side, “congratulations.”

You knew this day would come, you just didn’t think it would come so soon. To your knowledge, your father’s in perfect health and things within the Empire have been running smoothly; you don’t see the need for Sungchan to take over just yet. Sungchan spares you a smile and a small nod of his head.

“As you two know, things are getting tense with the Lee’s,” the situation your father is referring to is the gang war that’s on the verge of starting with the Lee family, another mafia that rules the other half of town. Things are starting to heat up at the border, your dealers keep roaming into the Lee’s territory and their dealers are doing the same to you.

It’s causing you both to lose money and it’s led to a rise in gun violence. Men are dropping dead left and right in the streets, you tried telling your father to redraw the borders and give some land to the Lee’s but he quickly dismissed you saying you didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Your mother and I sat down with Lee Jaehee and his wife, and after much discussion we came to an agreement.”

“What are the terms of your agreement, Father?” You ask, your interest peaked.

Your father glances at you but doesn’t answer, refusing to fully meet your eyes and so your mother does. “We’ve arranged a marriage between you and their heir.”

Your parents register the shock on your face before you can hide it. You do your best to reel in your emotions before an argument breaks out though. Sungchan, sensing your shock that’s slowly beginning to morph into anger, reaches a hand out to place it on top of yours under the table to help calm you down.

“What about our agreement, Father?” You ask, steadying your tone so he doesn’t scold you for being disrespectful. The agreement you’re referring to is the one you made with your parents months ago. Seeing as Sungchan is heir to your father’s Empire, you saw no need to stay in this world you’ve come to despise and convinced your father to allow you to walk away once you graduate college.

You’ve always ranked number one at school, never once have you gotten a mark below a 90 in any of your classes. With perseverance and determination, fueled by your desire to leave this lifestyle behind, you graduated early and began taking classes at Sungkyunkwan University your junior year.

You major in both fine arts and business administration. You’re in your final year and college life has been a dream. You’re now twenty years old and set to graduate within four months. You have plans to leave South Korea and migrate to Paris with Haru and Anton, your two best friends and college roommate, following your graduation.

“You’re allowed to continue your studies but following your graduation, you’ll be getting married.”

Every word stings, only fueling the fire that burns inside of you. Your fists begin to clench and your jaw roots. Knuckles hurting from clenching your fists too hard, and gritted teeth from an effort to remain silent, your now hunched form exudes an animosity that’s like acid.

“No.” You say, leaving no room for discussion.

Your father looks at you in surprise, you’ve never talked back before. “No?”

You stand abruptly, the force knocking over your chair. “No. I won’t be a pawn in your ridiculous scheme. You know how I feel about your line of work, I played my part for the last twenty years and paid my dues. I refuse to enter a marriage agreement and get roped back into this mess!”

“____⏤” Sungchan gives a warning call of your name only to be cut off by your father who raises a hand in his direction.

“In case you’ve forgotten who I am and your place in this family, let me remind you. I am your father and as my daughter you’re to do as I say. As long as you have my blood running through your veins, you will never be able to leave.”

That is the breaking point of your patience. At that moment, your rage is so intense that it leaves you seething and with a bitter taste in your mouth.

“The Lee family will be here on Sunday for you to meet their son. Don’t be late.”

You glare at your father, “go to hell.”

He smirks and raises his whiskey glass in your direction, “Sweetheart, I’m the king.”

“I’m sure you’re both wondering why I’ve called you here.” Jake and Heeseung take their respective seats in front of their fathers desk, anticipating his next words.

For the past year, their father and his men have been keeping a close eye on the two brothers to see who is more fit to take on the role as head of the Lee Empire. At first, Heeseung was set to take over due to being the oldest and legitimate son. Knowing this, Heeseung took advantage of his position and began abusing the power he had yet to inherit.

He became a wild child. He spent his nights in Hongdae strip clubs and would often blow all his money on prostitutes. It was pathetic really, it also wasn’t a good image for the Lee’s, so their father stepped in and declared the throne was up for grabs.

Jake was never really interested in taking over, he grew up knowing that no matter what, Heeseung would ultimately rule over the underworld. Being the bastard child born from the product of his fathers affair, he was often kept hidden in the shadows. The sudden declaration came as a total shock to him and although he hadn’t been keen on taking over before, he knew he would be a fool to pass this up.

A rivalry sparked between the two brothers as they went head to head vying for the same position. While Heeseung was out getting high and drunk off of their father’s riches, Jake was at home studying his father's tactics and memorizing the names and faces of every associate of the Lee Ring.

Because Heeseung had been unfocused for so long, it had taken him longer to submerge himself back into the game. Once he had gotten his groove back, however, it was clear he would make a ruthless and good leader. Although he had his moments where he would slip up, who their father would choose was really up in the air.

“After careful evaluation I’ve decided to hand over the empire to Jaeyun.”

Jake lets out a relieved sigh and bows his head respectfully. “Thank you, Abeonim. It’s an honor to be given this ti⏤”

“You can’t be serious?” A low growl escapes Heeseung’s parted lips as he cuts off Jake and looks at his father in shock, “I deserve that title! It’s my birthright!”

Their father sends a sharp glare his way, “you lost that right when you chose to focus your attention on booze and hookers.”

Heeseung scoffs, “I can rule better than he can and you know it! You’re choosing to punish me because your ego is in the way!”

The two brothers watch as the whites of their father's eyes turn to pure black, his icy stare lethal and piercing. In that moment, Jake feels grateful that he isn't the one on the receiving end of their father's anger.

“Watch your tone, Heeseung. And must you know, this has nothing to do with my ego. You’re simply not fit to take over.”

Although Heeseung knows this could end very badly for him, it doesn’t stop him from continuing. “Everything you’ve built will turn to ash if you hand it over to Jaeyun. Be smart for once and give me the rights to the Lee Empire!”

Jaehee slams his fist on the desk, vexed at his oldest son's actions. “Enough! I will not be made a fool by my own son. You say you would make a better leader and yet your actions fail to line up with your words. Over the past year Jaeyun has proved himself to be the better man,” he pauses to take a breath, “he’s kept up with his studies while simultaneously helping me run the empire while you were too busy being pussy whipped.”

Heeseung’s cheeks heat up in both shame and embarrassment but his father doesn’t stop just yet, “tell me Heeseung, do you know why we had to switch suppliers? Do you know what’s going on with the Feds? Most of all do you even know what’s happening at the border?”

The room falls silent as Heeseung fails to answer. When it’s obvious he won’t be giving an answer anytime soon Jaehee turns to Jake and sighs, “inform your incompetent brother of what’s been going on while he was off getting head.”

Jake clears his throat and sits up in his seat, “we had to switch suppliers because some of the men were stealing baggies and selling them for their own profit. As for the Feds, they’ve caught wind of the donation of thirty million won to the Korean government, they suspect corruption and launched an official investigation two days ago. And regarding the border, we’re on the verge of a gang war with the Jung’s.”

Taken aback by the sudden onslaught of new information, Heeseung briefly forgets why he was mad in the first place. “The Feds launched an investigation? What are we going to do?”

Jaehee scoffs, “what do you think? We’re going to comply with their requests. The president is on our payroll, we’ll be cleared of all charges in no time. Until then, I’m going to need you both to lay low.”

The two brothers nod their head in understanding, “yes sir.”

Jaehee nods in satisfaction. “Good, now onto the last thing I would like to discuss with you. As you now know Heeseung, we’re on the verge of war. Any good leader will do everything in their power to avoid war which is why your mother and I sat down with the Jung’s to try and come to an agreement.”

“In order to secure things at the border, we came to the agreement that Jaeyun shall enter a marriage with their youngest daughter, that way we can bind together our families and show that we’re a united front to the public. Having them as allies will help us greatly, we’ll be having dinner with them on Sunday so you two can meet. Any objections?”

Jake has millions of objections, an arranged marriage? He knew if he obtained the position of head of Lee Empire this day would come but it feels too sudden. He hasn’t even fully assimilated to his new role and he’s now being thrust into a marriage with a girl he doesn’t even know.

Although he has his objections he doesn’t voice them, he knows better. With a small shake of his head he says, “no sir.”

His father smiles, looking proud of his youngest while Heeseung only glares at the hourglass sat on a glass shelf above his father's head.

“Good, you’re dismissed.”

It’s Sunday afternoon and in a last attempt to get yourself out of this outrageous marriage agreement, you’ve woken up early and dressed yourself in Jung Empire colors. Your body is adorned in an extravagant emerald green v-neck tie blouse with skin tight black jeans.

Your hair is tied up in a ponytail and your feet are encased in a pair of six inch red soled Louboutins that Sungchan had gifted you for your birthday. The Rolls Royce that you're riding in pulls up in front of your fathers warehouse for bagging, you thank the driver before exiting. You stare up at the daunting building and tuck your Bottega Veneta clutch under your arm, although your relationship with your father is rocky, you were once close and a daddy’s girl. You never had to ask twice for something, he was always willing to do anything for you. You can only pray he’s willing to do the same now. If he doesn’t budge however, begging isn’t beneath you, you’ll get on your knees if you have to.

You enter the building and find your father smoking while circling around the tables where his men are bagging a new batch of cocaine. You slide your eyes over to Sungchan who’s standing in the corner of the room talking to his security detail. You take a deep breath before marching over to your father.

“Can I steal you for a moment?”

Some workers look up to stare at you in confusion momentarily forgetting the task at hand but the man you called for doesn’t even spare you a glance. He stops to slap the side of a man’s head to pull his attention away from you, “careful. She’s an engaged woman.”

You scoff at your father's words, “Father, can we please speak?”

He continues to ignore you and moves down the row of tables filled with men weighing out the bags. “I’m listening, darling.”

You don’t want to have this conversation this way but you know that once your father is focused on his Empire, nothing else matters until he’s done. “I don’t want to marry him, please don’t do this.”

Your father slowly inhales his cigarette, still not looking at you. “I thought I was clear when I said no the first time you asked me this, ____.”

You sigh, “I won’t be happy if you make me do this!” You stop walking but he continues, your frustration builds and you stomp your foot, “will you pay attention to me for once damnit!”

He stops in his steps and takes one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the floor and snubbing it out with his shoe. He carefully turns to look at you and shoves his hands into the pocket of his suit pants. “Tell me, ____, how are things looking for the Empire, business wise?”

You frown, what does that have to do with dissolving your arranged marriage? “Sales are up ten percent from quarter one due to expanding on the south side and spending has decreased by fifteen percent after cutting ties with the Byun’s. I went to meet with the Chief of Police and made a settlement of two billion won, you now have complete jurisdiction over the Gwangju district. Business is running smoothly, you should expect an increase of twelve percent revenue wise by the end of the new quarter.”

Your father smiles and steps closer to you to take your face into his hands. “You’ve always been a bright girl, ____. It would be wasted potential to let you walk away from this lifestyle. While your brother makes for a great leader, you make one hell of a business woman. Such a shame I can’t keep you here to continue working for our Empire.”

You remove his hands from your face and clutch them desperately in your hands before shaking your head, “you know I hate everything about business management and this lifestyle. Whether I stay here with you or get married to the Lee heir, I will always be unhappy and you know that!”

Your father sighs and turns on his heel, “happiness is an illusion, my dear. Now, I believe you have an engagement dinner to go prepare for.”

He walks away and orders for one of his men to drive you back home to get ready for tonight. You dejectedly stare at your father’s retreating back, completely at a loss. What now? Do you go through with this unwanted marriage or do you make a run for it after you walk the stage for your graduation? You follow the buff man ordered to take you home and get in the back of the all black SUV parked out front. He drives you home in silence, leaving you to drown in your thoughts.

It doesn't take long for you to arrive, you’re home in under thirty minutes leaving you with plenty of time to get yourself ready for tonight.

You exit the vehicle and trudge up the polished steps of your two story mansion. You breeze past the kitchen, where your mother is informing the chef of tonight's menu. You head to your room and gently close your bedroom door moving on auto pilot. Sitting on your bed, you allow the news to fully sink in. Your fate has been decided and there’s no way out.

Left with no choice, you begin assembling an outfit for tonight. You skim your closet in search of your dusty blue frill hem lace dress you had gotten from Chanel. Once you find the dress you move to place it on your king sized bed and move back to your walk in closet to get your crystal open toed Jimmy Choo pumps that you gifted yourself during finals week sophomore year.

You walk leisurely to your bathroom, strip down, then step into the shower. You turn the water on high; the steam thickens and warms, rising up to your face. You bathe your skin lightly, taking care to not rub yourself raw. You make sure to wash your face and hair thoroughly before getting out of the shower. You then dry off and head back to your room to get ready.

You hydrate your body and slip into your undergarments before getting to work on your makeup. You shape and draw your brows before working on your eyeshadow—you go for a neutral eye look with an undertone of baby blue to go with your dress. Once satisfied, you go in with your mascara and apply one layer for both eyelashes.

Now that your makeup is finished, you move to your bed and pick up your outfit for the night and give it one last glance before slipping on the dress. The mini length dress has an a-line neckline, short sleeves, and a trumpet skirt. The bodice is fitted and fits your figure easily. You look stunning, if it weren’t for what awaits you downstairs, you would be excited but you know better.

There’s a light knock on your door that pulls you out of your trance. You sadly turn to look at your door just as Sungchan walks in. He offers you a smile and gently shuts the door behind him. “You look beautiful.”

You play with the lace of your dress, “thanks.”

A heavy silence soon settles over the two of you, thicker than the uneasy tension you’re sure sits in the dining room where your guests await you. You glance around your room to try to avoid catching your brother's gaze. Things have never been this tense between the two of you, the atmosphere is usually light and fun.

Sungchan has always looked out for you and made sure you’re comfortable. You have no doubt that he tried to talk your father out of signing away your freedom. It’s what Sungchan does. He always looks out for you.

“We should probably go greet our guests.”

Sungchan turns to walk away but you reach a hand out and grab onto the back of his suit jacket, “W-wait.”

He turns to look at you. He takes one good look at you and his shoulders drop. He envelopes you in a hug and soothingly rubs your back.

You bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from crying. You refuse to shed any tears over this situation, you need to be strong. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and it’s not fair that it’s happened to you but please continue to be the strong woman I know you are.” Sungchan whispers into your hair.

You sigh, “it’s not fair! I don’t want to marry him. Why do I always get the short end of the stick? Hm? Why is it always me?”

Sungchan chokes back a sob, it physically hurts him seeing you so sad, it’s a contrast from your usual behavior. You’re always a bright and bubbly person who tries to be optimistic no matter what.

“I know, don’t worry. I’ll fix things, just be patient for now. I’ll fix it.” He then whispers under his breath, “I promise,” but it’s too low for you to pick up on what he said.

You two spend a few more minutes enjoying the embrace before Sungchan reluctantly pulls back. “We should attend to our guests. I’ll head down first, you should fix your makeup before coming down.”

You nod and let him exit your room before making quick work of reapplying your mascara and fixing your eyeshadow that had smudged.

You apply a neutral tone lipstick from your fifty piece Tom Ford Boys and Girls II collection and go over it with a clear lip gloss to make your lips shine.

When you’re done you take a deep breath to calm your nerves before exiting your room. You walk down the hallway and stop at the top of the stairs to collect yourself one last time. Once you feel ready, you descend the large staircase and walk towards the dining hall where you hear chatter and laughter floating through the area.

You stop in the doorway and scan the table. Your father is sat at the head with your mother to his left and Sungchan to his right. Next to Sungchan is a red haired male with multiple piercings, from months of studying books filled with all Jung Empire’s associates, you know he’s Lee Heeseung, the eldest Lee son. A lady is seated beside him, you assume that’s his mother. At the end of the table sits Lee Jaehee and to his right sits a buff black haired male who’s engaged in a conversation with your father. The seat beside him is empty, you presume it’s meant for you. He must be your suitor, the bastard child⏤ Sim Jaeyun or Jake.

You continue to stare at the long black haired male and make an assessment. He’s a sight to behold, no doubt about that. But looks aren’t everything, what if he’s a monster? Was he the type to get violent if he didn’t get his way? Would you fear for your life once you signed the marriage license?

As if he can feel your stare, he looks up and locks eyes with you. A forced smile takes over his lips as he raises his glass in your direction, all parties present at the table turn to the doorway to stare at you as well. You fidget under their stares but you don’t cower away.

You walk over to the seat beside Jaeyun with your head held high, you greet everyone before taking a seat. “It’s about time you joined us.” Your father jokes.

You give him a forced smile and bow your head, “forgive me, I wanted to take extra care to make sure my looks were above par.”

Jaehee chuckles, “it’s alright dear,” he picks up his glass of whiskey and raises it, “shall we make a toast?”

Your father hums and raises his glass as well. Everyone soon follows. A server, noticing you don’t have any alcohol to toast with, quickly steps up and fills your flute glass with champagne.

You raise the flute and clink it against the other seven glasses, “to the engagement of Jaeyun and ____ and the binding of two powerful families!”

You mumble a small cheers under your breath before peeling back the glass and taking a small sip. It goes down easily and slightly burns your throat, there’s a bitter taste at the end that has you shivering in your seat. You take a few more sips before placing it back down. While it’s not strong enough to get you drunk, it could still give you a pleasant buzz and you need to be fully sober for tonight.

You look across the table to find Heeseung throwing back his glass of whiskey. He gulps it down and raises the empty glass in the air for a server to take and refill. You study the older male and notice there’s something off about him. By the way he’s sitting you can tell he has no interest in being here and with the way he’s throwing back alcohol without a care in the world, completely disregarding the glares his father sends his way you just know he’s the problem child.

He has a certain air about him, he almost seems angry. You cock a brow as you continue to study his actions, he swaps out his whiskey for a glass of champagne. He downs it in one go and huffs in annoyance when the server is a beat late in refilling his glass.

As he’s waiting for his fix, he looks up and sends a harsh glare in Jaeyun’s direction. You frown and follow his line of vision to find your soon to be fiancé smiling brightly at Sungchan while they converse about stocks.

You drum your fingers against your flute of champagne as you silently hum in understanding. There seems to be some sort of animosity between the two brothers. You wonder what happened.

Before you get to dwell on the situation, more servers file into the dining hall with your meals. You’re first served a bowl of soup but you only get three spoonfuls before it’s being taken away and replaced with a butternut squash ravioli topped with rosemary browned butter.

You’re able to get in a few more bites before it’s taken. You don’t mind it though, the taste of the squash was too strong for you. A kale salad with Asian grapes, candied walnuts, gorgonzola cheese, honey and vinaigrette is what’s next on the menu.

You push your food around, not at all interested in eating the salad. You would have preferred a Cesar instead. Not much is said, your parents discuss business but the four of you (Heeseung, Jaeyun, Sungchan, and you) stay silent, not bothering to get to know each other.

The main course comes soon and you’re glad it’s a bit bigger than the last three meals you’ve been served. It’s balsamic covered lamb chops drizzled with a white bean purée. Once the main course is served, conversation begins to flow between Jaeyun and you.

“Your father tells me you’re a student? What do you study?”

You finish chewing your lamb and clear your throat, “I study business management and fine arts.”

Jaeyun nods, impressed, “fine arts? Is that a passion of yours?”

You smile and nod eagerly. Talking about anything art related always fills you with joy. Art has always been your escape, you had hoped to become an art director once you had graduated and migrated to France with Haru and Anton. Your mood slightly crumples, just a week ago that dream was plausible but now it’ll remain nothing more than a dream.

“It is, art is a very beautiful form of communication and expression. It’s helped me through some dark times”

Jaeyun smiles at your words and looks at you thoughtfully. He had his own doubts coming into this dinner but you’re not as bad as he had assumed.

Dessert is soon served, it’s a pear tart with almond cream. You take your time enjoying the sweet treat but it’s gone too fast for your liking. The adults soon wrap up eating and conclude their business talk.

You think the dinners over and get ready to excuse yourself but your mother starts a new conversation. The topic being your wedding.

“Oh I can’t wait to see you in a wedding gown, ____! I just know you’ll look lovely.”

You inwardly cringe at her comment but don’t speak on it.

“Why don’t you two go for a walk in the garden? Take some time to converse and get to know each other, you barely talked during dinner and the whole point was for you two to get to know each other.” Your father suggests.

You're ready to claim you’re too tired to go walking around the garden so late at night but Jaeyun stands before you get the chance. “That sounds lovely. Care to join me, ____?”

He holds a hand out for you to take. You stare at it wearily but take his hand regardless and allow him to help you up. You both excuse yourselves and head for the back door that leads to the garden in your backyard.

The air is pungent with the fragrance of jasmine. The two of you walk along the path lined with fallen petals from the bonsai trees that line the perfect lawn in their wooden boxes. In the center of the garden sits a pond as large as a small lake with flowering lily pads and a wooden bridge that crosses the middle so you can look down at the koi. The flower beds are a riot of spring colors and under close inspection you would be able to see they’re weed-free.

“How old are you, Jaeyun?” You ask.

He crosses his arms behind him, “twenty-two. And you?”

“Twenty.”

A semi-awkward silence soon settles over the two of you as you take a stroll around the extravagant garden. “Let’s not beat around the bush, ____.” Jaeyun says as he comes to a stop. You stop walking as well and turn to face him, “I’m well aware this marriage isn’t something you want, it’s not something I wanted either but there’s no way out of it.”

You cross your arms and nod allowing him to continue. “While I may not be the man you intended to marry, I want you to know I have no ill intentions. I won’t force myself on you and I won’t stop you from pursuing other men. This is a marriage of convenience and I don’t want you to feel obliged to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Are you mad?” You ask, he cocks his head to the side in confusion, not quite understanding your question. “Are you mad about this arrangement? You seem too calm about this, doesn’t it make you feel enraged to know your parents signed away your freedom?”

He shrugs, “it’s the price we have to pay for being their children.”

You scoff, “it’s a pretty crappy exchange.”

Jaeyun chuckles at your response, “I take it you feel wronged?”

You scowl, what type of question is that? Of course you feel wronged. “Of course I do. This isn’t the life I pictured for myself.”

“What was the life you pictured for yourself then?”

You take a deep breath and turn to continue walking. Jaeyun follows closely behind you as you both climb the bridge. “I wanted to leave Korea with my best friends and move to France, I’ve always had the dream of becoming an art director. I would probably fall in love and have a romance you only find in movies, have a lowkey beach wedding and try for kids later on down the line.”

You don’t know why you’re spilling your wants and dreams to Jaeyun, it’s not like he can give you the life you desire. Telling him this won’t change a thing but you suppose it’s nice to express your wants to another person who could possibly relate.

“I can’t give you the whirlwind romance you want but I can open a creative department and make you head of all creative art projects. I know it’s a longshot from the life you want but it’s a start.” He offers while gazing into your eyes.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You curiously wonder out loud. Jaeyun softly chuckles at your question and comes to a halt in the middle of the bridge.

“Would you rather me be rude?”

You shake your head, “it’s not that. It’s just,” you pause to try and find the right words, “you've made it clear you don’t want to marry me either so why are you going out of your way to make sure I’m comfortable? Shouldn’t you hate me for ruining your life?”

“But you didn’t ruin my life? This marriage wasn’t your idea and I won’t take my anger out on you. You’re just as much of a victim as I am.”

You stay silent and just study Jaeyun. Your biggest fear entering this dinner was that he would be a complete jerk but he’s the absolute opposite. Conversation seems to flow easily between the two of you and he’s made it clear there’s no animosity between the two of you. You wish you could be as open to this as he is but a part of you will always despise him for taking away your freedom. He may have not done it directly and it may not be fair to him but you can’t help the way you feel.

“I understand.”

He nods and takes a few steps ahead of you and turns back to face you. “I had always hoped that when I proposed it was to a woman I knew and loved but as we both know, that isn’t the case. While this isn’t ideal, I still want to do it properly.” You watch as he gets down on one knee and pulls a ring box out of his back pocket. “Will you marry me, Jung ____?”

You try to smile at the sweet gesture but you’re sure it comes out more like a grimace. You slowly nod your head and give him your left hand. “Yes.” He smiles up at you and gingerly slips a 14k white gold engagement ring with a cushion cut diamond that illuminates the center of the sophisticated design with sparkling round diamonds in a halo motif on your ring finger. It fits snuggly, shimmering in the moonlight and mocking you as you rotate your hand.

Jaeyun gets up and dusts off his knees. “Let’s go back inside?”

Two weeks have passed since your formal engagement to Jaeyun and the press has been going crazy. The night after the dinner, your parents had the two of you go on a date for publicity and leaked the news of your engagement to the press. Pictures soon spread like wildfire and your name has been in the news ever since.

You didn’t expect anything less, while your family is notoriously known for ruling over the underworld, it’s not all you do. To avoid the law and jail time, your father owns his own conglomerate to stand as a front for the illegal acts that go on behind closed doors. Your father has done a fantastic job of separating the empire from the conglomerate. He’s thorough with his work and makes sure nothing can be traced back to the empire. To the public, Nexa-Corp has made great accomplishments within Korea and has been a global leader bringing innovation for a happier future. No one would expect that your family owns and runs its own mafia.

Because you’re the only daughter of such a prominent figure in Korean society, as well as Jaeyun who’s the youngest son of the CEO of Veridian Global, you’re sure the news of your engagement will continue to circulate for months and you have no doubt that the wedding itself will be broadcasted for all of Korea to see.

Tonight is your engagement party. You didn’t want one but it wasn’t up to you. Both your parents and Jaeyun’s claim it’s important your relationship seem as real as can be and that you show the public you’re a united front.

“____? Are you dressed?”

You pull your gaze away from the mirror to the door just as your mother walks in. She gasps and closes the door behind her. “Oh sweetheart, you look stunning!”

Your hair is slicked back and your makeup was done by a makeup artist. She went for a bold look to match your dress, your lips are painted a bright red and you have a smokey eyeshadow look. You’re dressed in a burgundy lace sweetheart ball gown that has a v-shaped bust. The dress glimmers and fits your waist tightly. The bodice is hand-beaded and also forms a sequined layer beneath the airy tulle ball gown skirt. You feel like an absolute princess, while it wasn’t the dress you had in mind you still feel beautiful.

“I’ve gotten so used to seeing you wearing green but red is a nice fit for you.” Your mother says.

You smooth out the lace of your dress and shrug, “green will always be my color.” To a normal person, it may seem as if you’re simply discussing colors with your mother but there’s a double meaning. Emerald green is the Jung Empire’s color and Burgundy is the Lee Empire’s color. While you may be marrying a Lee and will now have to rep the color red, you will forever be a Jung at heart.

Your mother gingerly smiles at you and reaches a hand out to grasp yours. “I know this isn’t what you wanted but I hope you can find the happiness you’ve always wanted with Jaeyun. He seems like a lovely boy.”

You inhale deeply and shake your head. You give your mother a small smile and pull your hands out of her grasp. “Happiness is an illusion.” You don’t give her time to refute your claim and step aside. “I believe we have guests to attend to?”

┕━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┙

The Ballroom is 7,600 square feet with a dramatic ceiling. It’s beautifully appointed with crystal chandeliers and decked out in silver and burgundy decor. The hall is filled with cocktail tables and waiters who are stationed around the room waiting to be called upon. You’ve made your rounds and you’re now settled in the back of the hall nursing a glass of champagne while Jaeyun is currently having a conversation with his buddies who you briefly met.

“Jung ____?”

You try to reel in your annoyance at being called upon yet again. You down your champagne in one go and place it on the tray of a waiter who skims past you before whirling around to come face to face with a man dressed in an all black suit. You try and wrack your mind to see if you can recognize him, but you come up empty handed.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” You ask.

He shakes his head and reaches into the inside of his suit pocket to pull out a wallet, he opens it up and allows you to see the contents. He’s from the FBI. You feel your heart rate pick up but you manage to keep a poker face.

You stare into the detective's eyes, determined not to look away first. You contort your lips into a toothy saccharine smile relaxing your face. You had mastered your fake smile, right down to the wrinkles around your eyes at the young age of six. It’s key to have complete control over your facial features in your line of work. One wrong look and you could end up dead or in prison. “May I help you?”

He folds up his wallet and places it back into his pocket. “Congratulations on your engagement, Ms. Jung. While I hate to put a damper on the mood, I have a few questions regarding the ongoing case we have against your fiancé.”

You clutch your dress as the sentence leaves the male's mouth. The FBI has an ongoing case against the Lee’s? You wonder why it wasn’t mentioned to your family during the arrangement of your engagement.

You want to know the details of the charges but you know you can’t entertain this conversation. If any of your father's associates or allies of the Lee’s see you it could be disastrous. “Korean Civil Code, Article 826, The duties of Husband and Wife⏤ the confidential marital communications privilege allows a spouse to refuse to testify about, or produce documents evidencing, any confidential communication made during a marriage and allows the other spouse to prevent that testimony or document production. I have nothing to say to you, detective.”

He scoffs and picks up a champagne glass from the tray of a waiter who walks past you. “In case you’ve forgotten, you haven’t married him yet Ms. Jung. Don’t make me subpoena you.”

You cross your arms against your chest and nod, “am I a suspect, detective?” He shakes his head, “a person of interest then?”

“Not at the moment but if you continue on I will charge you with obstruction of justice.”

You scoff, “you can’t charge me for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Don’t make this difficult. When we convict your fiancé we can have you arrested as well for aiding and abetting. You wouldn’t want to go to prison for your fiancé’s mistakes would you?”

You cluck your tongue, “article 200, South Korean Constitution⏤ I have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. I am now invoking that right.”

“You seem to be well versed with the law, I guess it’s good to know your rights if you’re running a syndicate.”

You roll your eyes, “if you have any further questions or concerns feel free to contact my lawyer.”

He chuckles, “why lawyer up if you have nothing to hide?”

You pluck the champagne glass from his hand and point it in the direction of the exit. “Please see yourself out before I have security escort you out.”

He smirks at you. “The next time we meet I’ll have a warrant for your arrest.”

You smile and raise the glass up to your lips before knocking it back and chugging down the champagne. “It was nice meeting you, detective.” You place the glass down on a cocktail table before you turn to walk away and find Jaeyun.

You spot him easily, he’s still conversing with Park Jonseong, his long time best friend. You slide up to Jaeyun and lean into his ear. “Behind me, near the back of the hall is a man in an all black suit. He’s with the FBI.”

You pull back but Jaeyun places a hand on your waist and pulls you closer into his side. People near you coo at the affection but the two of you pay no attention to them. Jaeyun picks up a flute glass and raises it in the direction of the detective, a smug look on his face. The male scowls and shakes his head before making a b-line for the exit.

Your heart has been pounding all morning.

The four months came way too soon for your liking. Following the engagement party, you chose to submerge yourself in your school work and spend as much time as possible with Anton and Haru. You absolutely refused to have a say in the wedding itself, it wasn’t something you wanted and would always send you into a panicked state just thinking about it.

A week after announcing your engagement, you went wedding dress shopping with both your mother and Jaeyun’s. Your dress was the one thing you absolutely refused to compromise on. A month before your graduation a date plus venue was picked and invitations were sent out.

An hour has passed since lunch and you feel as if you’re going to vomit all the contents of your stomach. Preparations for the wedding have already started and you’re currently getting your hair and makeup done while Haru runs around making sure your other bridesmaids are dressed and ready to go.

Your bridal court is made up of the daughters of other powerful mafia heads to show that you’re a united front. You’ve never spoken a word to the six females and yet they’re the ones who’ll be standing by you on one of the biggest days of your life. Haru was made your maid of honor due to the relationship you two have and her father being Kim Dongwook, a good associate of your father.

“I’m done with your makeup dear, let’s get you in that dress.”

You nod and stand on shaky legs. You usually pride yourself on always being confident but you seem to be lacking it today. Haru ushers the other girls into the hallway so you can get dressed in peace. You slip off your robe and slide into your hand sewn custom made fit and flare gown. You shimmy into the form fitting dress taking care to not force it on and rip it.

The skirt of your dress has geometrical lace to match the bodice. When designing your dress, you wanted something simple yet dramatic and sophisticated⏤you wanted it to represent you. The train just might be your favorite part of the dress, it’s a cathedral length train that flows behind you. Your makeup artist holds back your hair while you slip your hands into the quarter length sleeves and Haru buttons you into the dress.

Once Haru fixes the last button, your makeup artist lets your hair down and steps away. You move to stand in front of the floor length mirror and examine yourself. You’re absolutely stunning. You wish you were marrying a man you actually loved so you could feel the joy every bride describes when talking about their wedding day.

Haru brings over your veil and attempts to secure it in your hair with various pins. Once it’s situated she steps aside and lets you see the final product. You twiddle your fingers as you daze off thinking back to simpler times. A knock pulls you out of your trance however. “Come in.” You say

The door opens and in waltzes your mother and your soon to be mother-in-law. They coo at your dress and make a fuss about how Jaeyun’s going to love it but you don’t have it in you to pretend to be happy. You’re too tired and having to act as if you’re okay with what’s about to happen is too draining.

Before you know it, you’re being transported to the La Luce Myeong-dong Wedding Hall in an all white Rolls Royce with your father and Haru. Everything goes by in a blurr, your mind doesn’t even register pulling up. Just as you had predicted, your wedding is being broadcasted for all of Korea to see. There are multiple cameramen stationed outside the hall live streaming your entrance and some are taking pictures. Along with paparazzi, there's a crowd of spectators surrounding the building being held off by the police.

Your father steps out first before turning to offer you his hand. You take it and allow him to help you out of the car. Haru quickly comes to your aid to fix your train before swiftly entering the building to start the procession. Your bridesmaids follow behind Haru and gracefully walk up the steps and into the main hall where your guest and groom await.

Your father fixes your veil and allows you to hook your arm with his. You tightly grip onto your bouquet and count down the seconds. The spectators who’ve gathered for your wedding begin cheering as the doors to the hall open and the sound of canon in d arranged by the Stuttgart Orchestra wafts down into the streets of Seoul.

Your guest turn their attention to the door as you walk in and down the aisle on your father's arm. You force a smile on your face and try to play your role of the blushing bride. The aisle is lined with a white carpet and babies breath flowers fill the empty spaces on the ground with candles. Jaeyun is stood at the front of the altar with his groomsmen right behind him.

You look into his eyes and for the first time since you’ve met him you can see the fear that’s clearly in his eyes. Just like you, Jaeyun has been good at concealing his true emotions but you guess he doesn’t have it in him to pretend today either.

Walking down the aisle with your father is just as terrifying as you thought it would be. All eyes are on you, not only are you being scrutinized by the two hundred guests in the hall but you’re also being watched by the thousands tuning in live.

The remaining steps to get to the altar seem to take an eternity. When your father finally hands you over to Jaeyun and takes his seat at the table reserved for your family, Haru steps up to take your bouquet so you can give Jaeyun your hands. A cold terror washes over your body as you stare into your groom's eyes.

Before, you thought Jaeyun was put together, the more mature one out of the two of you but you now realize he’s just one hell of an actor. He’s not put together nor is he mature. He’s a small boy playing dress up. Your hands tremble under his own and despite your fear, you don’t look away, you continue to stare into his panic filled eyes and try to find comfort in the fact that you’re not in this alone. He shares your fear.

You hear words being spoken to you, the voice echoes through your eardrums but you refuse to focus your attention on anyone else. You don’t register anything in your mind beside Jaeyun’s “I do” and the feeling of him slipping your wedding band onto your ring finger. You exhale at the weight that now sits on your hand. This ring will forever bind you to Sim Jaeyun.

You hear the priest say a few words before turning to you to ask, “do you Jung ____ take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Sucking in a shaky breath you whisper the two words that seal your fate. “I do.” Your hand trembles as you reach out for Jaeyun’s ring from your ring bearer. Your throat constricts making it hard to breathe. You slide the silver band onto his fourth finger, it’s a simple band yet still eye catching.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.”

A round of applause fills the hall but it falls upon deaf ears as Jaeyun lifts your veil and slowly leans in, bringing one hand up to gently caress the apple of your cheek. You feel your chest rise in panic as he comes closer to your face. His eyes sliding shut is the last thing you see before your own flutter close.

Jaeyun’s lips are soft and warm. The kiss is gentle, no malice behind it but it’s lacking in emotion and passion. All the panic that has built up within you then bursts and tears begin to roll down your cheeks. As much as you tried to hold it in, the pain came out. The beads of water start falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping. To anyone watching, it may seem like you’re crying tears of joy but in reality you’re nowhere near being happy or content with the direction your life is going.

Your life has just ended.

taglist: @dreamiestay

[junixscribble]

Hexbug TM

Once again blame the server. I have no excuses for this one.

(Arcane lore + LOL Machine Herald)

Title: Hexbug TM

WC: 2029w

Summary: Jayce's constant need for revenge manifests itself into ingenuity. Very unfortunately for Viktor, Jayce has his sights set dead square on him.

--------------

Ever since setting up shop with the Machine Herald, Jayce had been getting in a few more fights. Not to the extent of his previous position as the Defender of Tomorrow (who according to the Piltover Press was on sabbatical) but more petty spats with chempunks. He had to admit that a couple of these had been started on purpose, much to Viktor’s chagrin. Viktor, in his high and mighty Herald-ness, thought petty fights were beneath him. Which is why it was such a surprise for Jayce when he walked with his arm half torn off and a hole in his side. 

“Hey, V- holy fuck! What happened?” Jayce rushed over, taking some of the weight off Viktor’s dead arm from him. 

“Some idiot decided to try and scam a child. I stepped in.”

“What’s this I hear from Mr No Unnecessary Fighting?” Jayce couldn’t help but tease, even if the hexclaw singed his hair for it. 

“This fight was necessary. Are you going to help, or stand there?” 

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get pissy. Wow, they really did a number on you huh?”

He poked into the mess of wiring that was the cavern in Viktor’s side and he squirmed away. 

“Stop that. Get me over to the table.”

The table was the one in the corner, kept clear and reserved for when one of them fucked up so badly they had to be put back together. Normally it was Jayce on the table. Viktor hauled himself up onto the table and unclasped his mask, tossing it to the side. His face was contorted in discomfort - while his modifications dulled pain, it could not remove it completely. 

“How does it look?” He asked Jayce, his tone betraying his anxiety. Jayce peered at the arm, and then into his side. 

“Hmm. The arm is only torn at the hinge, and none of the wiring broke so that will be an easy enough fix. You’ve demolished some plates on your ribs and the wiring is a mess so that will need a little more time. Jeez, what did they hit you with?”

“Death ray.” 

Jayce gave Viktor a deadpan look and Viktor raised his eyebrows. “It was purple.”

“Sure. Anyway, let's get this armour off and get you fixed.”

Once the armour was off and Viktor had laid down, Jayce pulled out a box lovingly labelled as ‘Vik’s Robo Parts’ and got to work. They kept up conversation the whole time, and Viktor admitted it took him longer to get back because he wanted to make sure the kid was looked after. Jayce should have expected as much - for the stubborn front he put up, Viktor sure had a soft spot for children. 

It took about an hour and a half of work to fix everything back up, not without complaints from Viktor.

“You’re soldering that wrong, I can feel it.”

“No, I’m not. I’m soldering it my way, which is the correct way and not your weird version.”

“Mine is superior and holds stronger. Redo it.”

Jayce sat back and put the soldering iron in its stand. “Do you want me to get the cattle prod while you're immobile here?”

Viktor glared, but couldn’t help the flush that rose to his cheeks. They had recently discovered that powerful electricity had a very different effect on Viktor than it did Jayce. It turns out that when you shock someone who has partially metal nerves, it tickles like hell. Jayce had used this incessantly when Viktor was being annoying and it pissed him off to no end, never mind the fact that Viktor himself had a bad habit of using the hexclaw to torment Jayce. When he was the victim, it was a hate crime in his eyes. 

“If you do, I will put that fun powder I made in a random set of your socks and wait for you to put them on.”

Now it was Jayce’s turn to blush. The powder referenced was an accidental concoction of Viktor’s that made the victim ridiculously sensitive to any form of touch. Getting the stuff off was bad enough, but the fastest way to dissolve the effects was to provide… certain stimulation. This war between the two had been going on for months, and at this point Viktor was winning.

Viktor huffed out a smug laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

Jayce gave him a weary look and went back to screwing the plates into Viktor’s side. He kept his face schooled as he carefully slipped a small disc under the panel without Viktor’s knowledge before screwing it closed. 

“Well, there you go. Good as new.” Jayce stood and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. 

Viktor powered half his body back on with an audible whirr, flexing his arm and feeling hte plating on his ribs. 

“Decent.”

“Just decent?”

Viktor groaned. “What do you want from me? ‘Oh Jayce, it’s the most wonderful repair ever! However may I thank you, big strong beefcake who has come to save me?’”

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh at Viktor’s ridiculous impression of himself. “Well I don’t know, that could be nice. Being called a beefcake is a plus.”

Jayce flexed his arms in jest and Viktor recoiled. 

“Forget it, I am never speaking to you again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“This time, I do.”

In the week following life went on as usual, and while Viktor did have to stitch up Jayce’s leg after someone decided to run at him with a knife it was uneventful. Which is the perfect environment for them to start pissing each other off. This time Viktor had left blueprints all over Jayce’s workstation. 

“Viktor, is it seriously that difficult to pick up after yourself?”

Viktor shrugged, not even looking at him. “My lab, my space.”

“Which you are currently sharing.”

“What did I just say? My lab.”

Jayce huffed, stashing the blueprints into the box they came out of. “You are a problem.”

“Oh, I’m a problem now? I wasn’t a problem when you ran into a knife two days ago. I even gave you lidocaine.” 

“You’re like if a tin can could speak and it was bad.”

Viktor turned to throw a piece of chalk at his head. It missed, so he turned back to his board with a grumble and realised he had in fact just thrown his last piece of chalk. Jayce could almost see the steam rising off his shoulders. 

“Jayce. My chalk, if you please.”

“Hmm… no.”

“What?”

Jayce laughed at the slightly dumbfounded look on Viktor’s face. “You chuck chalk at my face and expect me to give it back?”

Viktor started striding across the room towards him. “Motherfucker I am going to strap you down to a table and make you feel torture like you’ve never known.”

“Not if I get there first.”

Jayce jammed a hand in his pocket and closed it around a small remote, flicking the switch on the side and turning the knob up three clicks of the seven that were on it. Viktor stopped in his tracks and shrieked, falling to his knees and clawing at his side as a loud zapping noise started. He tried to speak, but Jayce turned the dial up another level and Viktor keeled over on his side, laughing. 

“JAHAYCE!”

Jayce turned the dial down to one, watching Viktor giggle and catch his breath. 

“Whahat did you dohoho?” 

“Hexbug.” Jayce said, turning the dial up and down again and making Viktor cackle. 

“Ehehe… elaborahate!”

“I made it! I took a cattle prod apart and made a little bug out of it. It can emit the same shocks that the prod does. Cool, right?”

“NohohOT COOL! Why- ahaha! Why is it insihide me?” 

“I put it there.” Jayce played with the dial, turning it up and down for fun. “And it means I can do this.”

Jayce placed his thumb on a joystick and Viktor felt something inside him move. The awful ticklish feeling was centred over a spot on his ribs, but that was now rapidly crawling down his side. The current stopped and Viktor felt tiny legs latching onto the wiring in his chest and crawling around. Viktor barely held back a yell as he fell backward onto the floor, kicking uncontrollably. Jayce knew the wires he was messing with connected to his nerves. At least if it was maintenance he could smack away his hands but this? He couldn’t exactly rip apart his own chest, no matter how badly it tickled. 

“JAHAYCE YOHOU AHAHASSHOLE!”

“Aw, does that tickle?”

The bug burrowed into a section of wiring near his spine and zapped again, making Viktor jolt. Jayce noticed the reaction and sent the bug on a fast paced adventure of his internal wiring, zapping at random intervals. This very quickly dissolved Viktor into a squirmy, hysterical mess. 

Jayce watched the carnage with a grin, turning down the voltage and piloting the little bug up Viktor’s spine until it was sitting near his central nervous controls. Viktor’s eyes widened when he felt the bug step onto the motherboard. 

“Jayce- Jahayce I don’t think you realise what this will do to me-”

“Really? Cause I think it’s gonna tickle really badly.”

The bug walked fully onto the board and Viktor made a choked noise, half a laugh in his throat already. 

“I wanna see what each voltage does here.”

 “Jayce, no!”

“Why? Is it gonna tickle?” 

Viktor felt the bug electrify and the popping noise started, along with what felt like a gentle, unbearable tickle throughout all the metal parts of his body. 

“Shihit! Ihit’s everywhehere!”

Jayce lit up like the sun, and Viktor knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth. “Wait, that translates to all the augmentations?” 

Viktor didn’t confirm, and he didn’t need to. 

“So what you’re saying is if I turn this up here it’s going to tickle all over?”

Jayce turned the dial up to level two, and he broke.

“YEHES!” 

Jayce leaned in with a grin. “Good.” 

The dial turned up to three, and then four. Viktor screamed. 

“Four… five…”

“PLEHEHEASE AHAHAHA!”

“Six…” 

“IHIT TIHIHICKLES!” 

“Aaaand seven!” Jayce counted through all the levels, paying close attention to how Viktor reacted with each one. At the highest level he could see the electricity arcing over Viktor’s body while the man thrashed on the floor, completely lost in his own frenzied laughter. Jayce let him sit through the torture for a few seconds before turning the dial back to zero and switching the remote off. 

Viktor curled into a ball on the ground, still giggling at the last zaps of the current. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“...how do you THINK?” Viktor spat, sitting up. His hair was a tousled mess and his face was flushed adorably. “You just tickled me from the inside! I didn’t even know that could be fucking done!” 

Jayce felt a little bad. Just a little. “If you hop on the table I’ll remove the bug.” 

Viktor heaved for breath and held out a hand to stop. “No, no, just leave it. I can’t be bothered going through the rigmarole. I do ask that you don’t leave it directly over my nervous system though.” 

“Oh!” Jayce started, turning on the remote again. The bug took a step and Viktor arched his back, squeaking. 

“Ah, sorry. Heh. This will tickle.” 

He carefully drove the bug down to Viktor’s side while his partner tittered, placing it somewhere he could easily access the next time Viktor took himself apart. Jayce turned off the remote and placed it on his desk. 

“You deserved that.” 

Jayce got a hexclaw middle finger in response. Viktor stood and brushed himself off.

“I hate to admit it, but I do have to hand it to you. I did not see that one coming.” 

Jayce beamed with pride, and Viktor caught his expression with narrowed eyes. 

“This is not something to celebrate, Jayce. See, now I must one up you. Prepare yourself.” 

Viktor picked up his thrown chalk and went back to his equation, leaving Jayce sweating by the desk. He had just hammered in the final nail of his own coffin. 

[bweeeb]

JEALOUS

Part two

Theodore Nott x Y/n Millicent reader

Friends to lovers- ANGST

Summary: The morning after the damage has already been done is always the hardest to fix things between two best friends who feel more than friendship.

The feeling of discomfort was the second worst feeling for Y/n because the first was feeling strange in a place she used to feel good. And Y/n was almost certain that at that moment, the two feelings were very close to each other.

The morning after, the group skipped breakfast and went straight to lunch. One thing everyone at the table could agree on was that the Slytherin elite seemed very uncomfortable. Sitting on the opposite side of the table from Theodore, Y/n's leg bounced up and down. The image of waking up naked in Mattheo's bed, with Theodore coming out of the shower, remained vivid in her mind as a source of discomfort. It felt strange for both of them not to be sitting side by side, especially after a party, a time when they would typically look out for each other.

Y/n felt herself sink into the bench, and her appetite diminished immensely. Thus, she pushed her plate away and stood up, anguished.

— Where are you going? Pansy asked, attracting the attention of all her friends.

— I've lost my appetite.

— But where are you going? Daphne asked with concern, her expression resembling that of a child inquiring about their mother, prompting Y/n to offer a weak smile.

— I have things to study. See you later. Everyone agreed with a deadly silence that embarrassed the group but left the rest of the students curious.

— Is she okay? Draco asked Pansy, who showed him the middle finger and got up angrily.

— This is your fault

— I didn't know that….

Daphne sighed and rested her head on the table, feeling a migraine starting to creep in. In a sudden move, Theodore got up from the table not long after Pansy and left the Great Hall quickly.

— Teddy! Anastasia called out. — Teddy bear! Anastasia, who had risen from the Gryffindor table, called to Theodore. He turned to her, much as Y/n had upon entering the Great Hall.— I missed you... I thought we'd see each other later.

— I don't have time for this, Anastasia. Last night was a mistake. Theo gestured with his hands in front of her face, glancing back where Y/n had left as soon as the nickname he used for her in their third year allowed her to call him.

— Fuck.

— Teddy?

— Don't call me that.

Theodore said rudely, and Anastasia grimaced.

— Who do you think you're talking to?

— Apparently you, but I wish it weren't.

— Excuse me? The girl stopped in front of Nott, and he, impatiently, placed his hands on her shoulders, not caring if he caused a scene. He needed to get to Y/n and make it clear that what he had done was foolish

— Listen to me, I've fucked a lot of people here and you were just another one. It won't happen again because you're the girl who hurt my best friend, so stop. He growled in her face, and the innocent look faded from Anastasia's expression. She stomped away.

— Oh, Theodore, believe me, no one hurt her more than you did. — she rolled her eyes — She was dying for you to fuck her, that's why it was so fun for me. I could see in her eyes how desperate she was, she seemed like a desperate slut. The redhead smiled maliciously and slapped the boy's face. He snorted and left the Great Hall without worrying about the whispers. He needed to apologize to his girl.

Theodore run as fast as he could to catch up with Y/n, who was still walking slowly down the hallway.— Hey! He shouted and saw the girl shake her head.

— What about our Italian lessons ? — Theo sighed, hating that if he allowed it, tears would fall from his eyes, and those tears would make his father call him ridiculous — Dolcezza…

— I think I'm dead, Theodore, I can't. Y/n rolled her eyes as her voice faltered.

— Don't call me, Theodore, mi amore.

— What should I call you, Theodore? Y/n mocked the boy while trying not to cry.

— Y/n… don't be dramatic, mi amore.

— Dramatic? I'm not being dramatic, Theodore. — Y/n turned abruptly to look at the boy not as far away as she had imagined he would be — Then tell me, tell me what I should call you.

— You should call me... Y/n interrupted Theodore before he could finish his sentence and shook her head with the same whispered tone as his.

—No, I shouldn't. She swallowed hard and looked at him with sad eyes. It was almost inevitable for her to wonder if she was being too dramatic, but that thought soon passed when she remembered her psychology lessons emphasizing the need for time to think.

— Go back to the Great Hall. Her anger softened in her voice when she saw him approaching.

— You are mad at me. — I'm fine!

— You can't be mad at me for what you did too! Theodore frowned and shrugged eagerly.

— You slept with the only person who really hurt me, she killed my cat when he was the only thing that calmed me down because I was away from home. My parents didn't see me for four months. FOUR MONTHS because they believed Nino had a communicable disease and he had nothing and you know it because you heard me cry every night without stopping because I was feeling alone. Y/n clenched her jaw and walked towards the Italian with her finger pointed at his face, which was pushed away when he retorted.

— You fucked up with Mattheo, damn it! Y/n mocked Theodore's argument and rolled her eyes as she walked away again while he followed her frantically.

— Go fuck yourself.

— You slept with Mattheo in my bed! You woke up in MY bed with him by your side. Theo shouted as he stepped in front of the girl, preventing her from continuing her walk.

— And since when do you care about that, Theodore? You fucked every single girl in this fucking school and now when I slept with ONE person you're get mad? — a sob escaped from Millicent's lips as she wrinkled her nose uncomfortably — You can't do this. Her voice became quieter and more vulnerable. — It should have been you, but you decided to sleep with her on my birthday.

— You sat on him in a way that I thought... I thought. Theodore's voice had also lowered in tone, and he looked at her seriously for the first time since the beginning of the discussion.

— It was a damn truth or dare game, we always did stupid things and we both know it means nothing, you fool. If I knew it would hurt you, I wouldn't have done a damn thing… — she murmured — But apparently you don't think the same way.

She turned away again, but this time Theodore just stood there, looking at her back, disappearing down the hallway.

— I would never do anything to hurt you, Y/n. I love you.

Theo shouted from afar, afraid to see her leave. He didn't want her to go like this, but he didn't know how to fix that mess.

— I can't believe you, Theodore, you lied about the dress. About her being at the party and wanting her there, maybe I'm being dramatic, but I can't believe you love me rigth now.

_____

So dramatic, I love it😍

Requests are open, message me if you have any ideas💞

Read the last part here

[aspoonofsugar]

Ruby and the Splendor Solis

Here comes a quick alchemy meta! Alchemy is an ancient practice, whose goal is to create the philosopher stone. This stone gives immortality, transmutes lead into gold and creates new life (homunculus). From a philosophical point of view, alchemy's aim is to nurture the spirit and to make it perfect.

As @hamliet has explained in several metas, RWBY is an alchemical story, which metaphorically illustrates the procedure to create the stone (RWBY/Ruby).

Today's post will explore Ruby and Maria's interaction in volume 6 episode 8 (Dead End):

As a matter of fact the scene references the 6th plate of the Splendor Solis.

WHAT IS THE SPLENDOR SOLIS?

The Splendor Solis is an alchemical text, which describes how to make the philosophical stone through 22 illustrated plates:

4 introductory plates present the protagonists of the alchemical journey

7 parables illustrate the alchemical death and rebirth

7 flask plates explore the alchemical process from a practical point of view

4 final plates describe the alchemical process from a spiritual point of view

How does Ruby and Maria's scene reference plate 6?

PLATE 6 AND VOLUME 6

Let's begin with describing what plate 6 is like:

This plate has three philosophers under a tree with golden fruits. The tree is a metaphor for the alchemical process as whole. It is the philosophical tree and if you climb it you reach the golden fruit (perfection/the philosopher stone).

The three people embody the phases of alchemy:

The young man climbing the ladder is nigredo (black)

The man who wears white outside and red inside is albedo (white)

The man who wears red outside and white inside is rubedo (red)

Citrinitas (the yellow stage) is instead symbolized by the yellow flowers and by the golden bough the men are pursuing. The scene as a whole represents a transformation, which is why the birds that fly in the sky have some green shades. Green is, thus, the color of transformation.

How does all of this rely to Ruby and Maria?

First of all, the two silver eyed warriors speak under a tree:

With golden fruits:

Secondly, this scene frames Maria as the teacher and Ruby as the student. Maria is initiating Ruby to very important knowledge, so that our young alchemist can continue her journey.

Ruby: I don't know… I don't know anything… What do I tell Jaune and his team when we don't even have a plan? Qrow's out drinking, Ozpin hasn't come back and even if he did, I don't know if I could trust him. And there's always Jinn, but… we only have one more question we can ask her. I feel like I'm letting everyone down… Maria: If you're tired of not knowing anything, how about we discuss those eyes of yours?

MARIA, THE TEACHER

Maria embodies the archetype of the old wise woman. She is a mature version of Ruby (an older silver-eyed warrior), who comes in our protagonist's life to offer guidance. She is the more expert alchemist:

Maria grabs the golden fruit. Symbolically, this shows that she is far ahead of Ruby in the alchemical quest.

This is made clear by her:

semblance

weapon

Preflexes lets Maria sense everything better than others. Metaphorically, it means she has a better understanding of reality than others. This ties with her having wisdom.

Life and Death is made by two kamas that can be combined in a staff:

They can be separated (solvet) and united (coagula). Solvet and coagula is the mantra of alchemy, as this process aims to create the philosophical stone by separating and uniting the elements. Over and over. Until perfection is obtained. Metaphorically, it means a soul is refined through creation and destruction. Life and Death.

RUBY, THE STUDENT

Ruby is young and ignorant. She doesn't know what to do and she doesn't know about her eyes. She is the alchemist apprentice, who is going through a transformation:

Differently from the Splendor Solis plate, there are no birds in the scene. However, the scenery is full of butterflies, which are another symbol of change. Of death and rebirth:

As far as the nature of Ruby's transformation is concerned, the setting gives us some hints, as Maria and Ruby are speaking in a garden full of white snow. That is because RWBY is approaching albedo (the white phase). In particular, volume 6 climax marks Ruby's passage from nigredo to albedo. This process if metaphorically foreshadowed in Ruby and Maria's conversation thanks to a specific visual cue:

Let's look at Maria's plate:

The grapes are purple/black = nigredo, the black phase

The plate is white = albedo, the white phase

The lemons/oranges are yellow = citrinitas, the yellow phase

The strawberries are red = rubedo, the red phase

The kiwis are green = transformation (plus prima materia, aka the beginning)

In short, the plate and fruits are a metaphor for the alchemical process as a whole. What's interesting is that a little butterfly flies on them:

It pauses for a little while on top of the grapes (nigredo) until Maria gently takes it and has it fly forward (towards albedo). The meaning is clear. Maria acts a mentor, who helps Ruby leave the black phase and enter the white one. She gives Ruby the knowledge she needs to face her "trial of fire":

Maria: The light will only work in the presence of Grimm. Meaning the only practice you'll get will be a trial by fire.

TRIALS BY FIRE

Ruby faces her trial by fire in the climax of volume 6, as she fights the Leviathan:

There she uses Maria's teaching and the relic of Knowledge to defeat her foe through her internal light. This moment is when Ruby and the group leave Mistral and the Black Phase once and for all. They are ready to face Atlas and the White Phase.

Still, this isn't the only trial by fire our Little Red Riding Hood has to go through. She struggles through a second one in volume 9, as she and the group leave the White Stage (Atlas) through the Yellow Stage (the Ever After), so that they can enter the Red Phase (Vacuo). Once again this passage is shown through the Splendor Solis.

There is a giant tree:

A wise woman:

Butterflies:

Once again, Ruby is given guided by an older and wiser woman under a tree. This time she has to make a choice to go through a transformation. A process of death and rebirth:

In volume 6 Ruby learns about her internal light, whereas in volume 9 she discovers her inner shadows. In volume 6 she is given knowledge, while in volume 9 she is offered a choice. At the same time, in volume 6 the Splendor Solis reference is focused on a single meaningful scene, while in volume 9 it is more pervasive and present throughout the entirety of the season. In volume 6 the Splendor Solis comments Ruby's journey (the microchosm). In volume 9 this alchemical texts conveys RWBY's adventure (the macrochosm).

However, this isn't the only difference between the two transformative trials.

IDEAL AND REAL

Volume 6 has Ruby become an ideal:

Volume 9 has Ruby grow into herself:

Similarly, in volume 6 she latches on an idealistic idea of Summer (the Huntress), whereas in volume 9 she accepts Summer as a person (the Mother):

This passage from ideal to real isn't something unique to our heroine's arc, but it ties to everyone's story. Here come two examples.

Jaune's arc

In volume 6 Jaune is inspired by Pyrhha to push forward no matter what:

He wants to become more like Pyrrha, his ideal self.

In volume 9 Jaune is taught by Weiss to stop and accept a loss:

He realizes he is good as he is, despite his flaws.

Chemical weddings

In volume 6, Bumbleby goes through their second chemical wedding, where they kill Adam. The focus of Yang and Blake's relationship is that both girls have to become "worthy" of the other:

And now I know I'm worthy of you (Oh can't you see, you could be with me) With every smile you told me, "I love you" (I am your dream, I love you)

They push each other to grow and to become their ideal selves. Yang has to overcome her anger and abandonement issues to stay with Blake. Blake has to stop running away to be by Yang's side. Their fight with Adam tests their progress on their respective flaws.

In volume 9, White Knight has their second chemical wedding, where Jaune dies and is reborn thanks to Weiss. Their bond is about letting go of childish fantasies (the charming prince and the beautiful princess) and to accept the other for who they are:

Weiss: I think you’re asking too much of yourself. We’ve been telling ourselves that failing means we’re no good. But I can guarantee even the best Huntsmen in history… they’ve all lost. But they were still incredibly brave… and good.

They let go of paragons and come to love their real selves with both strengths and flaws. Their conversation in front of the Genial Gems conveys exactly this.

Interestingly, Bumbleby and White Knight foil each other in another way, when it comes to alchemical symbolism.

Bumbleby focuses on death and separation. They represent the "solvet" part of the process.

White Knight is linked to rebirth and union. They explore the "coagula" part of the process.

To be clear, the solvet and coagula parts are present in both relationships. Yang and Blake go through destruction to come back stronger and more beautiful than ever. Similarly, Weiss and Jaune have to face death, so they can be reborn.

Still, the focus of BB's weddings is on death/destruction:

Adam cuts Yang's arm and impales Blake

Adam dies

Whereas WK's weddings climax in resurrection/creation:

Weiss is reborn

Jaune and Ruby are reborn

This is because the two relationships are complementary and illustrate different sides of the alchemical process. However, there is a third ship meant to embody both parts.

RUBY AND OSCAR = SOLVET AND COAGULA

Ruby and Oscar's wedding is kicked off by their first meeting, when Qrow (a bird) brings Oscar to Ruby and unites the Solar King and the Lunar Queen:

Ruby and Oscar's wedding references the imagery above.

It is a union of opposites. The scenery of their first scene together has Ruby marked as fire and air, whereas Oscar is associated with earth and water. Moreover, both the moon and sun are present.

In general, Ruby is moon, silver, red and air, while Oscar is sun, gold, green and earth. They complement each other and are perfectly balanced. So, they don't need a specific focus on neither death nor rebirth because theis arcs are gonna explore both the solvet and the coagula. They are the whole.

This complementarity shows also in Oscar paralleling Ruby during the trials of fire.

While Ruby is talking with Maria and going through an internal transformation, Oscar goes through an external transformation (he changes clothes). Ruby connects with Summer (coagula), while Oscar is free from Ozpin (solvet). Both their transformations are tested in volume 6 climax, where Ruby grows into a leader (macrochosm), whereas Oscar grows into himself (microchosm).

While Ruby struggles with herself in the Ever After, Oscar struggles with Ozpin in Vacuo. Ruby separates her perception of the self from Summer (solvet), whereas Oscar is merging with Ozpin (coagula). Ruby is in a fantastical world symbolic of the inside (microchosm). Oscar is in the real world, which is going through big changes (macrochosm).

Right now, Ruby and Oscar are bound to meet again through Raven (another bird), which might kick off their second alchemical wedding. Not only that, but Raven herself might play the part of the Nevermore, as she wears a Nevermore mask and her name alludes to The Raven, Poe's famous poem and the inspiration for the Nevermore Grimm. If so, this meeting might be Rosegarden nevermore wedding, which for RWBY ships is about overcoming grief and death through love. Another declination of solvet and coagula.

[dawnthefox24]

Uh modern AU of Dead Plate x Game Grumps because I said so!

*Vincent is watching Rody play The Legend of Zelda as he runs into Façade* Rody:*looks at the screen and squints a bit* Fa-cade.. Vincent:*looks over at Rody before taking in a deep breath as he exhales*Façade Rody... Rody:*is already laughing* Vincent: Are you really fucking serious? Rody:*continues to laugh* Vincent:*looks at him quiet concerned * Did that happen? Was that real. Rody:*laughs even harder* Vincent: I think it was real, otherwise you wouldn't be laughing so much. Rody:*is trying to calm down as he needs to focus on beating Façade* Vincent: I'm worried about you...

[knownangels]

party

wc: 3.5k

Benji keeps his head down, nose uncharacteristically in his phone. He hasn’t got much to take his attention on the screen; its an outdated model with few apps besides those pre-loaded. He uses it to text and occasionally prove Maran on the definition of some word with a quick web search, but that’s about it. 

He pretends to find something interesting in the notes app, as he’ll likely be doing a few hours from now. Swiping his thumb up and down the screen, seeming busy to bystanders (too many) doesn’t dull the noise of the store, however.

“Why the fuck d-does this list have —“ 

Benji glances up just in time to see Benny shake his own phone at the wall of refrigerated fresh juices. They’re in the organic section, which might as well be a completely foreign country to either of them. 

“What kind of store even stocks p-p-pomegranate juice?”

Benji rounds the cart, accidentally brushing up against a posh looking woman who seems a little miffed to be anywhere near the loud, brash blond’s vicinity. Still, her gaze sort of lingers on the back of his neck as she scoffs and pushes away, which makes Benji snort. 

“This kind.” He says, nudging Benny aside to point out the hourglass-shaped bottle of dark ruby liquid. “Right there, you bellend. Kill ya to be wrong and quiet?”

“Yes.” Benny clips out, snatching the bottle from the shelf and purposefully shoulder checking Benji as he tosses it in their cart. “It w-would. One fancy fuckin’ fruit juice down—“

Benji sneaks a peak at his list, noting the additions of several of Maran’s snack food amongst the alcohol and party basics. “Five to go?”

“What is she, hiring a full s-service bar?” Benny squints at the list then throws his hands up in the air. “Dragonfruit extract. That’s going to be a fuckin’ grand, at least. I haven’t even had that shit before.”

His tone of voice is one Benji knows well — he’s not really pissed off about the contents or length or price tag of Matilda’s list. She’s paying, after all. And her birthday events are pretty legendary; Benny’s almost guaranteed a good time, even if there will be one too many rich-taste cocktails for his liking. 

No, Benji recognizes his tone. It’s the get me the fuck out of here strain. For him, it’s near constant in a store. And Saturday morning, with the crowd and noise and — 

“Me either. But I’m not gonna be the one to turn up wth a short list.” 

Benny, hands on his hips, looks at their cart full of snacks and alcohol, paper plates and red plastic cups. “She’s not gonna notice one thing.”

Benji peers up at him, fingers clutching his phone tighter now. He’d really like to get going. “It’s Matilda.” He says. “And it’s her birthday. She’ll make it your funeral, too.“

Benny’s eyes narrow as he debates this. Then he sighs, head tilted dramatically back on his neck, and shoves the trolley forward with a hip. “Fuck. She really would, huh. N-No issue sharing the spotlight as long as I’m fucking dead.”

“I’d eulogize.” Benji offers as they circle the produce area, round the bakery, and head back towards the center of the store. 

“You would n-not.”

“I would.” He insists, sticking a foot between the wheels and Benny’s boots in so blatant a trip attempt that someone behind them laughs. “I’d start it somethin’ like: ‘we’re gathered here to remember’ — y’know, blah blah, how those go —“

“Sure.”

“And then I’d have to say, y’know, ‘he was a disgusting freak of nature but he was ours’.” 

“You’ll make me c-cry.” Benny deadpans. He sneers at someone blocking the aisle, which Benji respects. Another reason he hates this shit is because doing that, calling people on their shit public decency, isn’t socially acceptable for some reason. 

“We’ll never get rid of him, not really.’”

“Because he was such a light and good influence.”

“Nah,” Benji chirps. “Roach.”

“Fa—”

An elderly woman rounds the corner in front of them. Benny cuts himself immediately off, flashing her one of his weird yet charming grins with a little faux-hat tip. She rolls her eyes and flaps a hand, but takes the offered space and carries on with her shopping. 

*

They meander towards the exit once their cart fills a bit more. A pint of ice cream sneaks its way in among the party supplies. Benji shoots Benny a teasing look when he realizes it’s Maran’s favorite flavor — double chocolate brownie and peanut butter, and not from a particularly cheap brand.

“Might as well just tell ‘em.”

“Might as well just s-suck —“ Benny’s phone goes off with a tell-tale ding! Benji smirks; he’s got a special sound, some little cartoon noise from one of Maran’s favorite shows, to indicate a text from the man himself. 

“Not a word.”

“Fa—“

Suddenly, Xavier stumbles out from the neighboring aisle. He looks paler than normal, fingers twisted in the plastic casing of a bag of chips. 

“Holy shit they’re all out of Lucky Charms—guys!”

Benji pauses, having taken over trolley pushing duties when Ben’s phone came out to text. “Alright?”

“You guys left me.” Xavier pouts. He starts towards them and nearly barrels over someone, dances around them with comically exaggerated movements that are both graceful and graceless at the same time. Benji swipes his fingers over his mouth to hide the smile.

“Did not.” Benny argues, gesturing down the crowded aisle with too wide a sweep; he nearly hits someone too. “You went, ‘oh, they got the f-f-fancy cheese crackers here’ and ran off.”

Xavier aims that pleading puppy stare on Benji, who avoids eye contact and shrugs. He had done exactly that.

“I got way too high, dude,” Xavier whispers. His breath is hot on Benji’s neck, as close as he’s gotten. He does his best to ignore it. “I’m like five more seconds of noise away from running out screaming.”

Benji snorts. With a hand cupped under Xavier’s elbow, he guides them away from the crowded aisle towards a stack of chips. Xavier tucks one under his arm as they pass.

“Here.”

“Benji.” Xavier whines excitedly, tugging at Benji’s sleeve as he delves into his jacket pockets for — “Oh, shit. These are your good ones.” 

Benji deposits the pair of earbuds into Xavier’s massive palm, fighting another grin. They go into his ears immediately. He has a playlist on his phone specifically for — well, this. A bunch of electronic and house music he’s not particularly attached to

“Noise cancelling.” He offers. 

Xavier tilts his head, gesturing towards his ears. Can’t hear you — then the playlist starts. His face lights up. Benji has to turn away, cheeks flaming about the fact that Xavier follows only a step behind him the rest of their shopping. At the checkout, which is as crowded a section of the store as possible, their hips brush several times as Xavier tries to maneuver himself away from the press of bodies and noise. Still, his foot taps to the music. The sense of victory is enough that Benji doesn’t mind the drain from his account.

“Forgot my c-card.” Benny pouts exaggeratedly, out-turning his pockets and no doubt hiding the credit card between his fingers in some magic trick. Benji glances at Xavier, happily in his own world, and shrugs.

*

On the way back to the car, Benji hears a shout rise up in the parking lot. A patter of feet and the loud brrrr of a car horn follows. Something crashes into the back of his legs, and he stumbles against the boot with a soft, surprised noise.

“Yuna!” A familiar voice cries. Benji glances around for it, twisted at the waist, and then instinctively down.

Little arms wrap around his calves. Yuna, a sleight girl of six who sports a poorly managed bob because she insists on cutting it herself, clings to him. He knows her from the community center’s music program for kids; his first semester at the university, he’d found a flier in the campus bookstore requesting musicians for youth tutoring and has been doing it every weekend since. Yuna’s one of his favorites, and a bit of a genius besides.

“I saw you in the store!” She shouts. She lets go of Benji’s legs and takes a step back; his hand shoots out and grabs her shoulder, pulls her back away from the busy lot’s lane. 

“Yuna, where the f— where’s your mum?”

“Dad day.” She announces. Then her tiny voice drops, conspiratorial and whisper-light. “I saw you steal grapes.”

Behind him, already lazy behind the wheel while Benji unloads their party haul, Benny snorts. Benji’s face heats up, especially when he hears Xavier’s muffled what, what? and a shuffle that tells him the other man is getting out of the car.

“I wasn’t stealing.” Benji insists. He squats down to fix Yuna’s hood back up around her ears; it’s rainy, and the tips of them are going pink. “I was testin’ to see if they were good.”

“Were they?”

He shrugs, mouth pinched in a thoughtful grimace. “Meh.”

“Yuna!” 

Her father, out of breath, jogs across the parking lot. Benji rises to his feet and snatches Yuna up around his hip as he goes. She kicks and laughs, her rain boots knocking a familiar rhythm against his thigh.

“You been practicin’ that song?” Benji asks. He hears the passenger door shut, another set of footsteps on pavement. Slower than Yuna’s father as he approaches, and then they too pause.

“Ba-ba-ba-dum dududu bam!”

“Nice.” Benji laughs. He passes her off fluidly to her father as he approaches. “Can’t wait to hear it on Saturday.”

“I’m so sorry,” the older man says. He squeezes Yuna close, briefly burying his face in her neck. “Yuna, you can’t do that. Daddy needs you to stay holding my hand in the parking lot, okay?”

“But—“

“I told you we would say hi, but we didn’t want to bother Benji.”

“I wanted to bother him now.” Yuna insists. Her bottom lip trembles, but her eyes don’t well up. Benji tries not to laugh at the manipulation attempt.

Benji steps closer to fix her boot, which has started to slip off her foot from all the jostling. “Yeah, happy to be bothered. But you listen to your dad, okay? There’s a buncha cars and it’s dangerous to run around like that. You might see them, but they don’t always see you because you’re so little.”

“I’m not that little.” Yuna insists. She tugs at her father’s jacket lapel, turning the big shiny eyes to him instead with the same goal. Benji watches him soften a bit more and squeeze her tighter. “I got a whole ‘nother inch on my height chart yesterday.”

Benji whistles to indicate how impressed he is by this information.

“If you’re okay to be bothered more —“ her father says, pulling Benji’s attention up to his bespekcled face, “Yuna’s at mine this weekend. I’m, uh, doing this new meal prep thing. Made way too much food. If you have a day open…”

“Oh?” Benji tilts his head at the little girl, makes a face to get her to laugh. “Might have to rain check that, got a stacked calendar. But I’ll see this one Saturday like regular, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Yuna shouts, throwing both tiny fists into the air. 

“Uh. Yeah.” Her father agrees, with slightly less enthusiasm.

They say their goodbyes and Benji goes back to emptying the rest of the cart. He’s glad her father hadn’t made mention of the copious amount of alcohol going into the car. He’s almost done loading it all up when he glances over the hood.

Xavier stands on the other side of the car, his palms flat to the roof and face…strangely blank.

“You’re getting rained on.” Benji laughs incredulously. “M’all done here, already loaded up. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Xavier says, voice thin over the following crack of thunder. 

Benji slips into the back of the Mustang, legs tucked up to accommodate the several angle Xavier has to slide back his own seat. He catches Benny’s red sunglassed stare in the rear view mirror, and raises his eyebrows.

“You get the DILF’s n-number, dude?” 

Benji scowls in confusion, Benny just continues staring, and Xavier slips lower in his seat, the volume of music blasting from his earbuds rising to a worrying level.

*

Later that evening, Xavier repays his debt tenfold. 

Well. Benji would never think of it that way. Anything he’s done to ease Xavier’s way a bit has been for just that —not with the end goal of reciprocation in mind.

Letting yourself get used? The mean little voice in the back of his head needles. Typical Benji, isn’t it.

The alcohol doesn’t make these sorts of thoughts louder, but it doesn’t pick at the careful netting that holds them back. And once that little hole in his defenses is made, they tend to spill out. 

He wonders if he looks as pathetic as he feels, wedged into as quiet a corner of the party as he can find, leaning against the wall. He’s got a rapidly warming beer in one hand, half-finished; it’s his third, maybe. Fourth. He hates the taste of this particular brand, but it’d gotten ignorable the more he’d drank, so. He’d kept going. 

And if it doesn’t quiet the sound of his own increasingly critical thoughts, it was least makes the external voices easier to muffle. Matilda throws a good party, and the people around him seem to be having more fun than he is; no one has approached him in a decent spell, not since he’d scowled openly at some poor, pretty blond from Matilda’s glass blowing class, or something. The invitation to dance had died before it could even be punctuated with a question mark. Benji felt a little bad for the twist of embarrassed rejection flashing across the young man’s face, but he was in no mood — and he was no dancer.

He sort of just wanted —

“I need to get out of here.”

Benji swings his head to the side. It’s a bit slower than his thrumming vision betrays. With hooded eyes, he stares up at…Xavier.

“You n’me both.” Benji responds. It’s soft against the steady bam bam bam of whatever top hundred chart song the stereo beats out. Xavier leans down to hear him better, their eyes never straying apart; that consistency makes Benji’s chest twinge. 

“So? Let’s go.”

Benji looks around. “It’s Matilda’s birthday.”

Xavier laughs, chin tilting back to flash pale throat. There’s a flashy rainbow strobe on her mantle, and it licks shades of blue, green, red across the column. Madly — drunkenly — Benji wonders if the skin tastes different under each color.

“She left, like, an hour ago dude.”

“What?”

“Irish departure, or whatever it’s called.” Xavier hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Lark was my ride but he went with her.”

Benji’s turn to laugh at the absurdity of that. Good fodder to tease him about  later. What sort of prick leaves their best friend for a chance to get laid? He imagines asking. And, true to his nature, Benji imagines the chipper, smart-ass response: This kind, bro. 

*

The irony of his internal teasing is lost on him a half hour later, once they’ve miraculously survived the walk back to Xavier’s flat. There aren’t any suspicious sounds coming from either of the other two’s rooms, but they sneak on dramatic tiptoes, jostling each other and trying not to giggle, anyway. Whatever sort of sneakiness they think they have is totally undone by the loud slam of Xavier’s door as they tumble inside, falling against one another in a drunken effort to stay quiet.

The irony continues to elude him, even as Xavier finds a movie and kicks off his shoes and they turn around, room stifling hot for some reason, to change out of uncomfortable party clothes. Benji doesn’t thank him for the borrowed pajama set; a blue gone fishin’ shirt with holes in the ribs and a too-long pair of plaid joggers.

“What are we feeling. Looks like Netflix refreshed so all the good horror—“ 

Xavier breaks off suddenly. Benji gives up on rolling the hems up his ankles to access the silence, half expecting a monster or something equally frightening on the screen. Instead, its just some muted auto play trailer of a shit comedy. Xavier’s staring at a spot next to him, eyes glassy with a remaining alcohol sheen.

“Find something?”

“Yes.” Xavier says immediately. He loads up the movie and tosses the remote aside, diving under the blankets. Benji follows, notes the frame squeaks under their combined weight. Reminds himself to check the screws on the bottom, next time he thinks about it. Next time his fine motor skills aren’t significantly impaired, too.

“Did you have fun?” Benji asks over the jazzy lulling soundtrack of the opening credits.

Xavier tucks into his pillow, hand coming up to slip between his cheek and the soft jersey fabric. Benji watches him settle with heavy eyelids. 

“I’m not gonna lie, the best part of the day for me was getting to listen to music at the store.” Xavier admits with a giggle. “Sometimes that shit is so exhausting there’s no way I can have fun.”

Benji settles too; it takes a bit longer, shifting around on the mattress and ignoring the bump of their legs together. There’s no way to fit without touching, so eventually he gives in and slides his knee between Xavier’s own. 

“The store?” Benji asks sympathetically. 

“The party.” Xavier corrects, to his shock.

“You love parties.” Benji laughs. “You love dancin’ and music and talkin’ to people and crackin’ jokes so forty different drunk fucks piss ‘emselves laughing.”

Xavier casts a quick glance at the television. “Um. That’s a generous crowd estimate—“

“Fifty.”

“Shut up.” He huffs. He goes to kick at Benji, but with the angle and their intoxication, it’s no use. It only serves to tangle them together a bit more. Benji feels the ever-present tingle of a chill slip off him, replaced by a blanket of heat; between their bodies, touching, and the blankets Xavier hadn’t bothered to kick off, he’ll be sweating and over-warm in no time.

He refuses to fucking move.

“To be fair, you did a fair bit of hosting once Til disappeared.” 

“They went for a birthday walk.” Xavier intones like it’s a great secret. “Lark had a special gift for her, or something.”

“Or something.” Benji snorts nastily, his shoulders jumping with the force of a restrained laugh. 

“What—“ 

And its no longer restrained, once Xavier’s face crumples like that. With realization. Abject fucking horror, that look. Benji can only hysterically giggle at how the weight of that knowledge (or something, special gift) ages him in seconds. 

“M’so sorry, mate. Oh, fuck. Oh your face, Xavier, holy — m’sorry. Really.”

“You’re not.” Xavier whines. There’s no heat to his tone, no genuine annoyance or disgust. In fact, at least to Benji’s own ear, he sounds…amused. 

When his humored tear-heavy eyes crack open again, Benji finds himself being observed. 

“Something on my face?”

Xavier shakes his head. The quiet sounds of the movie carry on. Benji’s got no idea what it’s about, the characters, the plot. He feels stuck in place by the pinning green stare across the mattress. 

“Ddi you have fun?”

He deliberates this. Shopping was fine. He liked seeing his students out and about. Liked being recognized, made to feel important. He liked introducing Xavier (my friend), liked that he stood close and twitched to the music Benji provided, that he’d lingered in the kitchen while Benji helped with party prep, that he’d given the earbuds back dead because he enjoyed the playlist enough to listen all the way through. 

He hadn’t liked the party. But he liked leaving it. He liked leaving with Xavier. He liked the idea that people had seen them leave together. That people had also, inevitably, seen Matilda and Lark do the same. Benji liked the idea that maybe similar conclusions would be drawn. 

And he feels bad for that. Feels unfair. Feels — feels…guilty. Dirty. Manipulative. 

He swallows the strange lump in his throat and shifts a bit in bed. Their legs are still tangled; he can’t go far. Instead of answering, Benji dodges. He tells the story of one of Saha’s equally legendary birthday parties, just to draw a thread of connection. To keep his mind off the warm body so close to his, touching him. 

To keep his mind off the fact that Xavier’s eyelashes flutter prettily as he holds onto conscious. That he tries so hard to keep listening, even as sleep takes him. 

Benji keeps his mind off all that, largely; at least until Xavier sighs as he goes under. The second his breathing evens out into something sleepily rhythmic, Benji’s brain fills with nothing but thoughts of Xavier content just like this. Falling asleep this way, movie in the background. A dozen times before this, and if he’s lucky, a dozen times after. 

As tired as he is from the long day, he genuinely isn’t sure if he’s dreaming as he tucks hair behind Xavier’s ear, presses knuckles to a sharp, cheekbone. He hopes so. He doesn’t have permission to touch — to bother.

I had fun. Benji thinks, vision blurring as the exhaustion catches up to him now, too. I feel happy. You were around. How could it be anything else?

[inkdrinkerworld]

falling is the last thing

pairing: javier peña x reader

it was hard trying to stop yourself from falling for him.

you were an informant- a means to help him put this entire pablo escobar business to rest, to be the one who got him put in prison or even put him to death.

to you, javier was a little more than ‘work.’

javier was nice to you, nicer than he had to be if your ‘relationship’ was purely physical.

he brought you dinner sometimes, or sometimes he’ll bring you an entire flan- one time just straight caramel.

he also listens, lets you talk after or before you have sex about anything- your day, work troubles, anything.

and every time he says, “dime muñeca, por fa’” your heart flutters a little harder.

it was easy to see why javier being just work got conflated with him being something more.

like now, now you’re breathless and javier is sweaty as he pulls out of you.

“bueno?” he asks and you nod, letting him pepper kisses to your cheek and neck. “do you want the flan now?”

you laugh a little at that and javier pinches the tired flesh of your thigh, “sí o no? i’m going to have it if you don’t, muñeca.”

“i thought you got it for me?” you pout and bat your eyelashes and javier knows you’re playing coy but he feels the urge to kiss your dramatized pout away till you smile again.

“i did, pero es de la vieja.”

javier has never seen you sit up so fast, “bring it, and set the kettle on.”

he sets the flan in your hands and lays his head on your stomach and sighs.

“todo bien, javi?”

he tips his chin back and blinks his brown eyes tiredly at you.

“ah sí?” it sounds more like a question when he says it and that makes you frown- even as you have a bite of the flan.

“de verdad?” he sighs and your hand trails down his chest.

he plays with your fingers a little before saying, “escobar, it feels like every time we get close enough he’s a smoke cloud again.”

you could only imagine how hard it was for the DEA to try to nail him. it was hard enough to get any information on him now, he was paranoid about everything and everyone- including the women he frequented.

“you’ll get a break soon javi, you’ll outsmart him soon.”

you were hoping for it too. you’d never seen so many young children with guns or in body bags like you have since pablo came back to colombia.

you understood from the children’s point of view- what you were doing wasn’t far from what they were doing, but they were kids. they have their lives ahead of them.

“i hope so,” you offer him the plate and he shakes his head. “can i stay tonight? my locks aren’t good.”

it’s a lie that both of you know, he works for the DEA, you wouldn’t be surprised if his doors were bulletproof.

“mhm, but you can’t sleep on me again. you’re getting heavy.”

javier becomes instant dead weight the moment his eyes shut and he doesn’t move.

“rude!” he bites your hip making you laugh and push at his forehead. “maybe if you don’t scratch at my head i wouldn’t fall asleep that fast.”

you have a little back and forth, in which javi changes positions so he’s facing you and laying almost completely atop of you.

“can you scratch my head?” he asks almost shyly and you laugh.

“yeah javi, relajate vale?”

“vale muñeca,” he stamps a kiss between your boobs and sighs when your nails scratch his scalp, a tired, long sigh that makes you frown.

you’re not sure how many candles or prayers would help javier in this fight but you’d light and say them all.

[3nvymist]

. ݁₊⊹ “Tell me that it’ll be okay.” ݁ ‧₊˚.

TW : This post contains implied p3d0ph1lia and explicit mentions of female body development. If you are uncomfortable with these themes, do not proceed.

INFO : This writing piece is in the perspective of my original character, Merlin Jones, who tells the reader about her experience when walking home from school and the thoughts she was thinking of back when she was a child.

{ Red heart dividers made by cafekitsune }

I remember walking home from school with my knees all scraped up and a broken backpack, millions of books on carried by my small arm that had a bruise or two. It was actually only 5 books at best but it felt like more, as if holding a giant boulder. Walking ever so slowly, I remember how badly my body ached. I wish I could’ve called my mom and tell her to pick me up, but my cellphone was dead since my charger broke the other day. Nobody else in the house had the same cable so I was waiting for the weekend so momma could go and buy me a new one.

I gave quick glances to my surroundings as I happened to walk by a blue house with white roofs. The man who sat on the porch always looked at me weirdly. Why do creepy men live with themselves? It’s so gross to look at a 12 year old in such a perverted way, it also didn’t help that my uniform had previously shrunk in the dryer and shaped out my developing boobs more than it used to do, I always wondered why a chuck of my fat went to them, those things always held my entire body down and broke my back. Why did god give women extra flesh on their chest? It’s almost like he wanted us to suffer! I can just imagine him pointing down and laughing at all of us. God is cruel.

I remember struggling to find my keys, slight bullets of sweat running down forehead. I swear I would’ve broken down into tears if I didn’t get blessed right there and then when I felt my rough fingers collide with warm metal. I opened the door to my lovely home and was met with silence. I hated that. I wish daddy was here, he would’ve came running whenever he heard the door opening. Knowing it was me.

I let the strap of my ruined backpack go as I listened to the small thud of it hitting the waxed wooden floors. Seems like momma decided to clean the house today. My books were left unattended on the small coffee table next to the door. I could worry about them later.

The walk to the kitchen was kinda scary for me, I remember stopping when I looked up at momma who was chopping up strawberry. A jar of sugar and sliced mini croissants were next to the cutting board. A smile made its way to my lips, making me temporarily forget about the pain I was feeling in the moment, dragging myself to the dining table and pulling a chair before sitting on it and scooting myself back in. I never figured out which of my parents knew me the most. It was like half of my likings were known by momma, and the rest by daddy. And I liked it that way. It always reminded me that they care, which I am very grateful for. A lot of my friend’s parents don’t seem to have time for them anymore which feels like a small needle in my heart. How can parents not love their children? How can you betray your own creation like that? That should be a sin.

My thoughts were interrupted by Momma setting down a plate infront of me, it had 4 mini croissants with sugar coated strawberries squished in between each individual pair of two bread slices squishing it into one. ”당신에게 무슨 일이 일어났나요?” Momma spoke. Her voice was strained and when I looked at her face, it hurt me to see how much color was drained from it. She didn’t like seeing me hurt. I remember her always freaking out about it, but this time, her fragile body shook as tears picked on her eyes. I didn’t fully understand her, my Korean was pretty bad. Yet, I knew she was worried about my current state. Turns out trying to climb a tree isn’t the best afterschool activity. Which is pretty uncool if you ask me.

“I got hurt on the way here. Sorry.” My smile faded. Was that really all I had to say? Unfortunately, it was. And I think I should’ve really said something different because momma broke down completely as she crouched down and sat on her knees. Her skinny arm wrapping themselves around my stubby legs. I wish I could’ve done more to help her. But I didn’t. My hand just reached out for one of the small croissants as I took a bite out of it, nearly eating it whole. Watching as the strawberries red juice tainted my brown fingers. Digging its way onto my chewed nails and pale palm.

“I remember.”

A/N : I wrote this trying to blink away the sleep from my eyes wtf 💔💔

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Multitudes Chapter Ten

In the Dark and Quiet...

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/Steve Rogers

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Nat can't do this by herself anymore, and she calls out for help from an unexpected source.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 1512

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) heartbreak, sickness mentions, self-harm, suicide attempt, mentions of past SA.

𝐀/𝐍 -> Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Please read the warnings, and proceed with caution. Check it out below, or on AO3 here!

The snazzy Black Widow divider comes from @/firefly-graphics and I love it <3 The Multitudes Universe one is our own!

<- Previous Chapter (9/72) Next Chapter (11/72) ->

Silence.

Lunch was subdued. Clint tried to catch my eye with a grin as I entered behind Bruce, but I kept my gaze on the doctor’s heels, taking a free space at the end of the table.

I could feel the archer’s eyes on me imploringly, radiating hurt and uncertainty, but I kept my eyes on my plate.

Don’t you fucking dare.

I won’t.

I sat motionless until the team began to disperse, only Cap, Clint and I remaining at the table. Clint moved closer to me, and I winced.

Is your stomach still upset?

Nat?

Natasha, what’s happening?

Do you need me to kill someone for you?

The last of these was accompanied by a wry grin, but I didn’t react, unfocused gaze still locked on my empty plate.

You need to try and eat something, Honey. Anything. Please.

I swallowed around the lump in my painful throat, turning my face away as it crumpled, holding in my tears.

His hand brushed mine and I jerked away, shaking my head frantically, breath hitching in my chest.

“What did you say to her?”

I looked up into Steve’s eyes, full of uncertain anger as he bridled in my defence. Clint shook his head quickly, hands raised defensively.

“Nothing- I didn’t- I-I don’t know what’s happened. Nat, please, please, just talk to me. Whatever it is – whatever it said – we can get through it. Together, remember?”

Steadily, I turned my gaze to him, impassable emerald meeting desperate cerulean, and shook my head once, with a final, terminating surety.

His face dropped, pain flashing in his eyes. Cap squatted by my side, offering me a weak smile. “Do you wanna come with me, Nat? I don’t think Bruce will be too mad if you skip lunch just this once,” he added.

“She needs to eat!” Clint snapped, making me flinch away, and Steve folded his arms across his chest.

“I’m not going to force feed her. Are you?” When his question was met with only silence, he nodded. “If Bruce complains, send him to me. Nat, do you wanna come with me, or go with Clint? Or is there someone else you’d rather be with?”

I shook my head slowly, stumbling slightly on unsteady legs as I got to my feet, moving to stand by the War Hero’s side.

Cap’s room was streamlined, only the necessities filling the neutrally-decorated space. He gestured around himself with a shrug, surprisingly bashful.

“I don’t… Entertain much. Help yourself to anything you want to do,” he offered uncertainly, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll probably just be reading, or something.”

I nodded once, moving to the sofa, dragging the blanket draped over the back around my shaking body as I curled up. Steve sighed, moving to sit by my feet. “Nat… We’re all worried about you.” When I simply stared into the distance, he reached out to pat my calf gently. “We’re all here for you. Is there anything I can get you? Water? A bucket?”

I shook my head, and he nodded slowly, rubbing my leg through the blanket. “Okay, honey. I’ll leave you to it. I’m here, though, if you want to talk.”

It took four hours for Steve to finally slip up.

He excused himself for the bathroom, and I moved quickly and silently, rooting through his possessions with calm precision.

Faster. You don’t know how long you have.

I nodded obligingly, riffling through kitchen drawers, and pausing when I found what I was looking for.

The toilet flushed in the distance, and I winced, stuffing the blade into my cast, and catching the skin beneath in my haste.

By the time Steve returned, I was back under my blanket, praying my light-footedness had been enough that his advanced senses didn’t hear me. But he barely glanced my way, only offering me a reassuring smile as he slid back into his spot at the end of the sofa, book back in hand before my breathing had fully settled.

Good girl.

Dinner.

The knife dug into my skin reassuringly, keeping my breathing under control as the eyes of the team settled on me and my empty plate. “She didn’t have lunch, either,” Clint murmured to Bruce, the doctor nodding beside him.

“Let her have today, Clint. She’s unwell.”

My partner blinked in shock, one eyebrow cocked. “That didn’t stop you from dragging her down to your lab this morning? What changed?” Bruce only shook his head, and Clint huffed, turning his furious gaze to Steve, sat opposite me. “What about you? Do you know what’s going on?” When Steve simply shrugged, Clint ran a hand through his hair in desperation, pushing himself to his feet. “Why won’t anyone tell me what the fuck is happening?”

“Clint-” Bruce began, placing a soothing hand on the archer’s arm, but he shook it off fiercely.

“Unless your next words are an explanation, don’t start,” he growled, aquamarine eyes flicking from anger to fear as they met mine. “Nat… You made me a promise. We had a deal.”

I winced, looking down in shame.

Tell him that you can’t forgive him. That fucking him was the biggest mistake of your life. That you can’t forget what he did to you.

I… I can’t do that. I can’t.

You’d do best to obey me, you disgusting creature. We’ve learned what happens when you don’t – and that was only the tip of the iceberg. Obey, or I will ruin you.

I pushed myself to my feet hesitantly, inclining my head away from the table. Clint moved around quickly, following my staccato footsteps from the room, fingers twitching anxiously as I closed the doors behind us.

“Nat, what the hell is going on?”

“You have to stop, Clint,” I murmured, still facing the doors, unable to look at him as I broke his heart. “You… You have to stop.”

“Nat-”

“Please, Clint. I… I can’t do this. We can’t do this. Last night… It was a mistake. I can’t… I can’t do it again. Please.” I swallowed firmly, fighting against the sobs threatening to break me. “Please, just understand. Just… Leave me alone.”

“Natasha, look me in the goddamn eyes.” I turned hesitantly, breath hitching at the sight of the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Why are you doing this? Is it… It?” His gaze flicked briefly to my forehead, wincing. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be, but-”

“It’s nothing to do with that,” I whispered, hands balling into fists by my side. “I can’t… I can’t. I couldn’t come back to bed with you, not because I was sick, but because my skin was burning at the memories. I don’t have the goddamn flu, Clint. I have trauma. I thought I remembered, but your hands on me… I remembered everything. I remembered how you fucking hurt me, and now I can’t even look at you.”

Good girl.

I couldn’t help myself – I met his eyes, taking in the pure devastation I found there, tucking it deeply into my soul.

I don’t want to be part of any of this. Please. Please… Just do it for me.

Everything grew distant and faded immediately, as though I was viewing everything through a tunnel. I felt my mouth move, venomous words falling easy and harsh, but I couldn’t hear what I was saying – what we were saying. I could only watch helplessly as Clint’s face crumpled, tracking the exact moment his heart broke.

And then we were gone – running – a klaxon sounding a heartbeat later, lights flashing, heart pounding – before everything faded to black.

I came to in the parking lot, squeezed underneath Tony’s beloved R-8. The knife was in our hand, pressed to the crook of our elbow above the cast, the serrated edge digging in hard enough to bring beads of blood bubbling to the surface.

I can’t do this for you, The Voice soothed, wrapping itself around me comfortingly. But I will always be here. We will always be a part of one another.

If you can’t be good enough to go home, you don’t deserve to live.

If I can’t be good enough to go home, I don’t deserve to live.

I watched as our hand moved, the teeth of the blade catching and tearing. Only once was there any hesitation, eliciting a small line of blood.

The second was stronger, deeper, a spurt of blood confirming my target, layers of flesh and fat separating on command.

Our grip grew weak instantly, but we fought to grip the blade in our other hand, pressing it to the opposite brachial artery.

“Thanks, Bruce. I needed the biology refresher,” I whispered humourlessly, before jerking the blade with a hiss, crimson blood arcing in a brutal display of final beauty.

We lay under that car, hidden and at peace, oblivious to the chaos around us, Friday’s melodic voice reporting on our biofeedback.

The last thing we heard, permeating through the darkness, bringing a smile to my fading face, was Clint calling my name from the wrong end of the room.

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 49: Alone Together- Fall Out Boy

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter Warnings: mistreatment of clones, political plots, talk of genocide, flashbacks

Translations: kama: belt spat osik: shit vor entye, ner vod: thank you, my brother/sister buir: mother/father K'oyacyi: Stay alive

Previous chapter:

Next Chapter:

Seeing Miria studying Mando’a was never going to lose its novelty for Echo. She was sitting on the bridge with her datapad, mouthing words to herself. Omega was up in her room, legs crossed. "Meditating again?" Echo smiled. 

"Gungi and Miri showed me, but it doesn't work for me the same way."

"That's because they're Jedi… well, former, in the General's case."

"I still like it." Omega smiled, slipping down from her seat next to him. "Want to try?"

"No. I don't prefer solitude. I had enough of it on Skako. If not for this squad, I might still be there or worse."

Omega looked over at Miria, who she also knew hated to be alone. "Is that why you joined them?"

"It was where I fit. Where I needed to be." Echo sighed. 

Miria lifted her head, listening in thoughtfully. Sometimes her heart broke for Echo… he'd been thrown around so much by fate. She'd taken back some control in her adventure to Thule. Echo still hadn't had a chance.

"We are receiving a transmission. It is from Rex." Tech called out.

Miria stood up as Omega and Echo followed her to the cockpit. "Put him through, Tech."

Rex's blonde head appeared. "Hey boys. General Halcyon. Any chance I could borrow your squad's expertise for a mission?"

Hunter frowned. "What kind of mission, Captain?"

"It's a simple data extraction, but a crucial one. I can explain the rest when you get to Coruscant."

At that, everyone stiffened. "Coruscant? That's a tall ask, Rex." Hunter muttered.

Miria sat down in her deck chair, hands clasped in front of her as she leaned over her knees. Omega frowned. "What's on Coruscant?"

"It is the seat of the Senate, and therefore the heart of the Empire." Tech clarified. 

"And the ruins of the Jedi Temple." Miria said quietly.

"We can't take Miri anywhere near Coruscant, Rex. She might not consider herself a Jedi anymore, but the Empire isn't going to see it that way." Hunter protested. 

"The Empire thinks we're dead. They won't be looking for us." Echo frowned. 

"And I'd like to keep it that way." The sergeant groaned.

Miria lifted her head. "A data extraction, Rex? How crucial is this data?"

"It could be life or death for clones all over the galaxy." The captain met her eyes. "I can transmit a flight plan to avoid Imperial security, and a safe landing zone."

Echo nodded just a little too eagerly, ready to say they were on the way. Miria gave him a sideways smile. "Alright. We'll meet you there."

"Thanks, General. I'll explain everything when you arrive."

Hunter groaned again when the holo cut out. "Are you sure about this, Miri?"

"I may not be a Jedi any longer, but I'm still Miria Halcyon." She stood up and started walking back to the bunkroom to retrieve her armor. "It's the right thing to do."

Echo followed her back. "So I was right. You do want to fight the Empire."

"Fight them? Echo, I want to rip Palpatine limb from bloody limb." She said mildly, pulling on her thigh plates. "But I can't engage in open rebellion. Not yet."

"Why not? We should be doing so much more." He pressed. "With someone like you fighting, a rebellion might actually-"

"I know, Echo." Miria turned to face him. She'd always looked so small and delicate, but the weeks since Thule had added an edge and strength to her that made her sometimes seem ten feet tall. "I want to. I hope one day, I will. But I cannot be on the opposite side of open warfare as long as Crosshair is in the Empire. He accused me of being his enemy on Kamino. I can't let that be a reality." She set her kama down and put a hand on his arm. "But you can."

"You want me to go with Rex?" Echo blinked. 

"No. I want you to stay and be safe. But I know you, Echo. You want to fight, and I don't have any right to stop you. I took back my life on Thule. This will be what you need to take back yours." She looked at him over her shoulder. "So you have my blessing… on one condition."

"Yeah?" He leaned in as she pulled on her chest plate and secured it. 

"Keep me informed. I'll offer as much help as I can." She explained. 

She might have changed herself on Thule, but some things remained. Echo needed to choose. She needed the information Rex would be able to provide. No matter how much she wanted to surround her friends in bubble wrap, this was the most direct way of giving her access to the fight without betraying the man she loved.

"I'll do what I can, ma'am." Echo whispered. 

Miria stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Take your time deciding. This is your choice." She whispered back. She knew it was too tantalizing an option for Echo to refuse, she'd known it when she spoke. If she'd tried to talk him out of it, he'd have conceded… but she didn't. 

She could only hope she wasn't opening the door for him to walk into a death sentence. 

"Thank you, Miri." Echo mumbled. "I'll talk to the guys once I've decided."

She nodded and let him go, picking up her helmet. "Of course."

They headed back to the cockpit, settling in for the flight to Coruscant.

"You sure about this, Miri?" Hunter repeated as she sat down. "Empire or not, this is going to be hard on you… you grew up on Coruscant."

The eyes staring out the front window were resigned. "I already know what to expect, Hunter. I can do it."

Rex was waiting for them as the Marauder touched down in front of a garage. Omega was holding onto Miria's arm after the flight plan had led them right over the ruins of the Jedi Temple. "Good to see you guys." The captain said grimly. 

Behind him, a very pretty Pantoran woman in pink was standing next to a tall young man with his curly black hair tied back in a poofy horsetail. Miria pulled her helmet off immediately. "Senator Chuchi? Aram?!"

The young man blanched. "Miria?!"

Riyo Chuchi looked between them. "You said you were calling clones, Captain… who's this, Aram?"

"... my cousin? Honest, Senator, I didn't know this was who Rex was calling."

Miria furrowed her brow, looking from Rex to Chuchi and back. "You can trust her, General. She's on our side." The captain assured her. 

Miria relaxed, holding out a hand. "Miria Halcyon."

"I've heard your name… you were on the Jedi council." Chuchi whispered. "It's so dangerous for you to be on Coruscant."

"I was told this was a matter of life or death for the clones. It's worth the risk." Miria nodded. "Rex, what are we looking at?"

"Come inside. There's something I want you to see." Rex waved for them to follow. 

Miria fell into step beside Aram. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on Naboo!" She hissed.

"I wanted to help. After you left last time, I hopped a public transport to Coruscant and started working as an aid for Senator Chuchi. She's pushing for clone rights in the senate." He explained. "I thought… maybe if we could get them with pensions and honorable discharge, you'd be able to find your trooper. If he's not in the Empire, that chip wouldn't have as much influence."

Miria's expression softened. "Oh, Aram… that's incredibly kind of you. Does your mother know you're here?"

"No…"

"She's going to kill us both."

He smiled weakly. "Osik."

They gathered around a table with a body bag on it. Hunter gently tugged Omega back as Rex unzipped it.

"A clone…?" Miria frowned. 

"He was an assassin. I came here to meet a clone named Slip. He said he was in danger, and I was going to get him out. But the assassin got him first, and nearly got the senator and her aid too."

"Why would a clone kill another clone and senator?" Echo mused.

"Slip knew the truth about what really happened on Kamino. We were trying to convince him to testify against Rampart before the Senate." Chuchi explained. "He's pushing his recruitment bill tomorrow morning."

"We were there too. I'll be your witness." Echo volunteered.

"They won't listen to us. We're deserters." Hunter shook his head. 

Echo cast pleading eyes towards Miria. "General?"

"They wouldn't hear me either. I was on the Council, I'd be shot on sight." She shook her head. "We'll need some other proof if we're going to implicate Rampart."

"Slip said he'd backed up the logs on Rampart's Venator." Aram nodded. "If we can present those to the Senate, it would prove his guilt."

Miria's mind whirred, teeth set on her bottom lip. Hunter knew that face… Miria was a brilliant tactician. "Where's that Venator, Rex?"

"Being retrofitted in the Imperial shipyard here on Coruscant." He smiled. 

She nodded. "Then we'll need to move quickly before the vote."

"I'll go back to the Senate and get whatever evidence I can find." Chuchi nodded. 

"You could be in danger, senator." Hunter frowned. 

"I'll go with her to keep an eye on things." Omega offered.

"You won't be able to get into the sector without Imperial security clearance." Chuchi frowned. 

"That won't be a problem." Tech smiled and patted Omega's shoulder. 

Aram grinned. "I'll go with you guys to get the data. All my mother's training should be worth something."

Miria smiled faintly. "She's definitely going to kill us both. But alright."

The shipyard was big and ominous, Miria and her team hiding in the shadows. Aram had surprised her by revealing a set of beskar armor under his blue and pink poncho, which he'd given to Omega to wear during her mission with Chuchi. 

"You're sure you're up for this, Aram? This isn't like Thule, the blasters are real." Miria muttered. 

"I'm sure. At least this I can hit. The Sith spirits were a whole different story." He smiled. 

Rex handed Miria one of his pistols. "I'd rather if you used something with a stun setting, ma'am."

"As would I." She agreed, taking it. "Hunter, do you see a path to the ship?"

"There's not enough cover. We'll never make it." He grumbled. 

Echo lightly nudged Miria and nodded towards a parts barge, the droid driver just finishing loading up. "Not on foot."

"Clever." She nodded. "Eyes on the barge."

Everyone nodded, bodies leaning in to get ready for a sprint. 

"Move!" Miria ordered, just as the thrusters ignited. The team darted for the underside of the barge, grabbing onto the scaffold-like landing gear. Miria locked her legs and flipped to grab Wrecker’s hands when he almost didn't make it, swinging him up with her.

He immediately clung with arms and legs, mumbling to himself. "Don't look down, don't look down."

"He okay?" Aram whispered. 

"He doesn't like heights." Miria shook her head. "Tech, get control of this thing."

"Almost got it. Hold on." The barge lurched when he sliced into the controls, banking sharply.

Rex looked at Wrecker sympathetically. "He's still not any better?"

"This is him better." Echo groaned. 

"Get ready to jump." Tech's warning was a welcome relief, and he dropped them a little lower so they could bail off their stolen ride safely. 

The tuck and roll was a little bumpy, but Miria popped up quickly and checked over her squad. No injuries. 

Six months ago that landing would have had me limping the rest of the mission. She had only time for the stray thought before they were crawling under the Venator to get into the maintenance tunnels. Health was an unending lesson in gratitude, it seemed. She'd have to revel in it later. 

"Wrecker, get that hatch open." Hunter ordered. The heavyweight pulled a plasma cutter from his belt and started up the ladder.

"Haven't been in this tunnels since the war." Echo said mildly. "Gotta say, Rex. Coruscant is the last place I expected you to be."

"I came for Slip… more and more of our brothers are waking up to what's been done to them."

"How many have you been able to reach?"

"Not enough. I have some contacts that I can trust, but help is hard to find."

Echo glanced over at Miria, suddenly understanding. She'd known he wanted to fight, she'd put together what Rex was doing after Bracca… now he knew what she wanted him to keep her informed of.

It wasn't about fighting the Empire itself for her, though he was confident she'd give the aid she promised any way that she could. No, Miria wanted him to keep an eye out for one man, should he wake up the way Rex had described. 

She wanted to know if Crosshair called for help. 

He couldn't help but admire the long game she was playing, now that she had the time. No wonder she said it was a matter of outlasting the Empire. 

"Got it." Wrecker called as the hatch opened. "Oh great. Ray shields."

"I am on it." Tech nodded. 

Miria's foot was tapping as the genius worked. Echo lightly nudged her again. "I think I've made my mind up." He said, voice low.

She looked at him, and he was sure her eyes were sad under the helmet. "I thought you might, once you saw Rex again."

"I'll keep you informed. I know what you're looking for." He patted her shoulder with his mechanical arm as the shields above them dropped.

"Vor entye, ner vod." She nodded. 

They made it into the ship easily enough, stunning a couple clones on their way to the command deck. "Get the data, Tech." Hunter ordered. "It's almost morning."

Tech plugged his datapad in and let out an unhappy noise. "That is unfortunate…"

"You wanna narrow that down?" Rex frowned. 

"In order to transfer the file, I will need to divert power. It will likely trigger a security alert."

Miria glanced out the window at the rows and rows of white-armored soldiers outside. Crosshair could be among them, and it was killing her that she couldn't go down there and drag him kicking and screaming back to the Marauder. "How much time will we have?"

"Not much." Tech shook his head. 

"Wrecker, seal the doors. Tech, divert the power and get the files." She ordered. "Aram, Rex, Hunter, post up and get ready for a fight while I figure out an exit plan."

They moved to her command and the console lit up under Tech's ministrations. 

Aram watched his cousin out of the corner of his eye as she started moving around, taking stock of cover and the number of clones outside. "How's it coming, Tech?" He tried not to sound nervous. This was his first taste of real combat, everything his mother had prepared him for and tried to keep him safe from at once. 

"I am expediting the transfer as quickly as I can."

They all heard clones outside the doors. "Hostiles confirmed on the bridge!"

"Transfer complete." Tech looked at Miria.

"Plans 14, 5, and 86." She said firmly as she spotted air support moving in. 

"All of them?!" Wrecker blinked. 

"All of them. Wrecker, go! Aram, cover him." She ordered. 

Wrecker whooped as the other clones got the blast doors open, barreling through them and stunning everything that moved. Aram covered his back with his blaster, eyes wide but his aim on point. 

"Echo, plan 5. Take out that air support!" Miria joined Rex and Hunter stunning the clones that got past Wrecker. Echo activated the Venator's turrets, shooting down the flyovers. "Tech, get those engines on!"

The sound of the huge ion engines coming online made Miria's skin crawl. The last time she'd heard engines of that size, she'd been inside one. She could still feel the heat and blind panic that shut down everything but emergency signals in her brain. 

"CROSSHAIR BACK UP!"

The ship under them lurched as it broke the moorings under it. "We're never going to make it through. There's too many clones." Rex groaned.

"We're going over them." Miria turned him around. "Head for the life pods."

"Over them?!" Both Rex and Aram yelped.

"Go!" Miria shot over Aram's shoulder and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him along with her to the evacuation deck. 

"These aren't operational." Rex hissed. 

"We only need them to eject. I'll handle it from there." Tech's eyes crinkled at the corners under his visor when he smiled. 

"This should be interesting." Rex grinned and pulled the hatch shut behind him. 

Aram slid next to Miria. "You guys don't do anything halfway, do you?"

"Nope." She pulled him down into a huddle with her and the clones on the floor. "What's the fun in that?"

"Is this fun?" He blinked as they shot into the sky. 

"You've been a Mandalorian longer than I have. You tell me. Brace!"

They crashed into the ground a good distance from the Venator, Rex kicking open the hatch. "Not bad."

"I was 6.4 meters off. Not my best." Tech shrugged.

Miria patted his back. "You did fine. Hurry, the Senate meeting has already started."

They hauled armored ass for the waiting skycar Aram had stashed, and made for their rendezvous point. 

Omega was waiting with one of Chuchi's guards and they handed the data off. "Hurry, sweetheart." Miria nodded. 

She took off like a bat out of hell.

Miria sank into the seat with the guys once she was gone with the guard. Echo nervously cleared his throat as Aram started driving them back to the garage their ship was parked at. "... I've got something to tell you all."

Hunter took his helmet off to look at Echo. "Go on."

Echo straightened his shoulders. "... I'm going with Rex. This was a good start, but more clones are going to need help. Miri's already given her blessing."

Hunter looked at Miria. "You did?"

She nodded, slipping her own helmet off. "Yes. It's important to Echo, and I… I understand where he’s coming from. It's the right thing to do."

"Are you going too?" Wrecker nervously reached for her arm. 

"No. I can't… not yet." She shook her head. "Maybe some day."

"That's not the life I want for Omega." Hunter said immediately. "She deserves better than to be in that kind of danger!"

"Don't I know it." Miria looked at him. "But the truth is, the danger is already here, Hunter. We can't shield her forever. I'm willing to give her all the time we can, but eventually this will become her fight as much as ours." Her voice was firm, not unkind but unwilling to back down. "Little girls don't stay little forever."

She wasn't just talking about Omega. She was thinking of Mayrin, a child not even born yet who'd one day inherit her mother's battle for freedom. Mayrin Halcyon wasn't even born and she'd already started fighting to save her own father. Miria couldn't give up on that fight either. 

Hunter sighed. "Alright… you're right. But for now…" He put a hand on Echo’s arm. "If you ever need anything, you call us. And if you change your mind, we'll be waiting for you to come back."

Echo smiled. "Thanks."

They pulled up to the garage and Echo went to get his things from the Marauder. Miria sat on the hood of the skycar with Aram. "You did very well. Your parents would be proud." She finally said. "I know I am."

"Thanks. Part of me wants to comm Buir and tell her where I am. But she'll probably be furious." He sighed. 

"You should. I'm sure she's worried sick." Miria brought one knee up and hugged it. "If you don't, I will." She wasn't repeating mistakes anymore. She hadn't told Obi-wan what Anakin had done. She needed to tell Irene about Aram's adventures."

"I'll do it. No reason for her to yell at us both." He smiled faintly. "You were pretty impressive back there though. It's easy to forget you were a general."

"I've been many things. Some I never thought I'd be… and some things that I was, I now find I'm no longer." She mused aloud. "But we all grow and change. Some for the better, some not."

"You're wise."

"Not wise enough." She looked up as Chuchi and Omega pulled up in another car. "... Omega's been crying." She slid off the car and darted over, scooping the girl up when she ran into her arms. "Little love, what's the matter?"

"It went wrong, Miri!" Omega sobbed.

Miria looked at Chuchi as the clones and Aram gathered around. The Pantoran looked devastated. "The evidence implicated Rampart, and he was arrested. But… Palpatine got involved. I don't understand, he hasn't been at meetings for weeks."

"What happened?" Miria hugged Omega a little tighter. 

"He used the clones obedience to Rampart's orders to push the recruitment bill." Chuchi whispered. "And… ordered the decommissioning process for the clones."

Miria's blood turned to ice. "Decommissioning…" She knew that only had one meaning in the scope of the Empire’s cruelty. Murder. They'd be shot outright or sent on suicide missions. 

The clones were fated to die. 

Crosshair…

"Palpatine was one step ahead of us during the war, and he's still several steps ahead of us now." Rex sighed. 

"I don't understand. We did the right thing… we told the truth." Omega whimpered. 

Miria stroked her hair. "Palpatine twisted it to his own ends, little love." She felt sick herself. They'd signed the death warrants of millions of men… they'd been deceived, it was no more their fault than Crosshair’s shooting at them had been his. But they'd still done it. 

"What happens to the clones now?" Omega whispered as Miria set her down.

"I don't know, but I'll keep fighting." Chuchi promised her. "I won't give up."

Rex nodded. "There will be plenty for us to do."

Hunter patted Echo’s shoulder again. "Remember what I said."

Wrecker grinned. "Don't have too much fun without us."

"Best of luck, Echo." Tech smiled. 

Omega blinked. "What are they talking about?"

Echo knelt down next to her. "I'm going with Rex. The clones need our help now more than ever. I can't turn my back on them."

"You're leaving? But… we're a squad!" Tears started welling up in her big honey eyes, and Miria had to turn away for a minute before her resolve crumbled and she started begging Echo to reconsider too.

"I know. But I've got to go where I'm needed, Omega."

"But we need you too."

"It's not forever. I'll be back." Echo brushed her blonde hair from Omega's sweet little face. He loved this kid, and it broke his heart to be the reason she was crying. "You keep up with your training while I'm gone, yeah?"

"Y-yes sir…" She wiped her eyes on the back of her shaky hand and threw her arms around him. He looked startled for a minute before hugging her back. 

"Take care of them for me, Omega."

Miria gave Aram's hand a squeeze. "Comm your mother." She cleared her throat and held out a hand for Omega. "Come on, dear… it's time to go."

"You're not going to leave me too, are you Miri?" Omega whispered as they walked to the Havoc Marauder. 

Miria looked over at her for a long minute. "The future is uncertain, Omega. But I don't want to. Neither does Echo." She turned around as Omega let go of her hand and ran up the ramp to Hunter. 

Echo gave her a salute. "Take care of each other, General."

Miria swallowed hard. "K'oyacyi, ner vod. That's an order."

Echo smiled faintly. No, Miria studying Mando’a was never going to lose its novelty for him. 

[brawlqueen]

until the day i say it : mizuki and date.

for @pleiadeshalo / kaname date, from mizuki date.

she doesn't know what's possessed her. in the maelstrom of warmth and equal measures fear that she'd never unearth from her unshakable pride; she thinks of how it's only been two months. two months since that cringe-worthy, embarrassing, loser of a man adopted her. gave her his name. two wolves exist inside her, fitting that they chase a rabbit with teeth (her, always her), and mizuki questions if it's even right to be doing this at all.

to be checking the instructions. to be making eggs in a disgusting way that makes them crispy and crunchy below and on top. with absurd amounts of paprika. two wolves inside her. the other of a man she wonders things.

( was there ever a time you loved me? daddy, hey -- was there ever a time you were happy i was born? or were you like mom ? did....you regret it? )

her biological father strung up like a fish with a hook and black bruises around his neck. hollowed out left eye and the wailing scream of a twelve year old walking once again into hell. maybe it always was like that, long before she was eight. maybe she just...was so used to taking it. two wolves inside her, a man with an artificial eye and a small apartment that is her home and a man murdered and brutalized being torn apart by the media; who placed in his cold dead hands a crown of thorns of inheritance for sunfish pocket and lemniscate. as if she can even begin to fathom how to deal with all that money.

" oh shit..! " she almost made them too crispy. she wasn't a good cook. her ability to be delicate was sorely lacking with her hands; more likely to cook than anything. she sprinkles a bit more of paprika before flipping them over again. eggs are...really the only thing she can make without breaking cups or pots or plates with monstrous strength. she has a sloppily written card by his desk. she didn't know what to do with it.

if she doesn't address that for once, she actually has a father, maybe one who even loves her, maybe for once she is most precious to someone. is it silly to think she's that for date? someone so precious? yeah it...it must be. why should she want that loser old man to cherish her anyway? or maybe she's fooling herself. date .... won't he regret this ? that stupid old man. that stupid, sickening pervert.

( i still remember how you held me that day. and then i started talking. and then i cried. and...it was warm. )

"h-hey! hasn't anyone told you to knock first before coming home, pervert?! you're soooo stupid you know that? can't you see i'm...." a beat, tremulous blue-grey eyes flitting away from the return of her adoptive father. the two wolves aren't going away. she clearly looks shaken and even skittish amidst the usual snark and hot temper. she scrambles to flip the eggs, mizuki sighing in faint relief that they aren't burnt half as bad as date probably would like them. she doesn't want to make crap, okay?!

".....y-you could have messaged me you were coming home, old man!" mizuki snaps, hands on her hips as she waves a spatula at him. in mizuki date's hands, anything could become a weapon. at least aiba's back too. she's still....getting used to her adoptive...fa...fa.....not yet, she can't even think it -- it's so frustrating. it's so terrifying -- old man, having an artificial intelligence so clearly alien yet human. who treats her with kindness and shares her sense of humor. who agrees on things she does, who seems to really have her own independent mind. it's...like having another big sister.

" d-don't look over here! i-i said you should have messaged me now you have to go back outside! outside, date! " mizuki snaps, though her fingers shake in both annoyance and fear.

is it okay to do this? will he laugh at me? why did he adopt me?

it's father's day and two wolves are inside her, one who should have been one but never was, and one who is but she isn't ready. she isn't ready to say it. not aloud. but....well, the card with adorabbit and some pictures sagan-sensei said would make him happy, why pictures of her at school would she has no idea, mizuki goes back to cooking.

act normal. act unaffected. act....act like it's not changing.

the note laden with pictures of her life at school that she wasn't aware were even took, lips pulled into a sunshine smile, startled her at first, but she can't focus on that right now. the damn eggs take all her concentration. the letter has crossed out lines and trembles in the handwriting. mizuki date afraid? ridiculous.

to old man pervert:

date, your hair still looks like soggy bread no matter what you do with it. you still eat pudding way too much. you still are collecting odoroki man chocolate like a child. you still say really weird things to me that i don't understand. you hog the bathroom in the morning. you still do stupidly reckless things. you keep stuff like aiba from me when i really like her.

and you adopted me like it was no big deal. i don't...know why you did that. maybe i'll never understand. you're not daddy. but....i think that's okay. maybe it always was okay. you're just date. and....something else but --- ugh, don't ask okay?!

you probably don't even know what date it is so i'm not even gonna say it it but......

there's something i want to say sometime. but only if you get your act together. and also....thank you date. i was really happy you -- (the rest is scribbled out). anyway i guess i wanna thank you. for....well, shut up! i just do, okay?! so...thanks date. and enjoy your eggs because i am totally not making this crap ever again -- until next year at least.

and.... i don't regret moving in four years ago. even if i don't understand you doing that, even if you drive me absolutely insane. even if you scare me sometimes when you're gone for a while.i was happy. and....i'm still happy. and that drives me insane too. maybe that's okay. i guess i'll keep living together with you.

that day really....really did make me happier than...anything.

from, mizuki d----mizuki.

ps: we're probably out of paprika now.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

165 of 2024

coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Soda from wine glasses because I like to pretend I'm cool.

chocolate bars or lollipops?

Neither, really. I'm not a sweets person.

bubblegum or cotton candy?

Ew, no. Both are disgusting.

how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Smart, but lazy - which I wasn't. I was diagnosed with autism in my 20s, but my psychiatrist suspects I might have ADHD as well. I have trouble focusing okay.

do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Wine glass as mentioned above.

pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Goth + sportswear, yes I do it.

earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds because smaller and I can easily carry them / wear them in public transport. But headphones have better sound quality, especially my favourite Beats ones.

movies or tv shows?

TV shows, no question.

favorite smell in the summer?

Fresh fruit like strawberries and cherries, sea air (but it's great any time of the year), bonfires.

game you were best at in p.e.?

Basketball. I used to be a semi-professional basketball player anyway.

what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Yogurt or oatmeal.

name of your favorite playlist?

Saltvatten (all sad music).

lanyard or key ring?

Why not both?

favorite non-chocolate candy?

Skittles.

favorite book you read as a school assignment?

The Catcher in the Rye.

most comfortable position to sit in?

With legs crossed.

most frequently worn pair of shoes?

These black canvas sneakers from Fila at summer, and black platform boots in winter.

ideal weather?

Sunny, warm, with some wind.

sleeping position?

Like a dead frog. All over the place.

preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notebook and laptop. I like writing by hand.

obsession from childhood?

Michael Jackson lol.

role model?

My dad.

strange habits?

I bite my nails and I mix everything on my plate while eating.

favorite crystal?

Amethyst. But do precious stones count as crystals?

first song you remember hearing?

Anyone ever remembers it? I don't, honestly. Probably some Modern Talking.

favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Long walks on the beach.

favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Honestly, the same thing. Even better because not too many people there.

five songs to describe you?

Tourist LeMC, We Begrijpen Mekaar

NF, Hate Myself

Katatonia, Day and Then the Shade

Paradise Lost, Fader

Antimatter, The Weight of the World

best way to bond with you?

Have as stoopid sense of humour as me, don't judge others, and don't talk shit about people behind their back. Don't patronise or condescend. Don't be a Captain Obvious, too.

places that you find sacred?

My hometown, the city I was in today, one Polish city by the sea, and that's it.

what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

What does this actually mean?

top five favorite vines?

Do you mean that old website by any chance?

most used phrase in your phone?

I have prediction turned off.

advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Thankfully none. That would be awful.

average time you fall asleep?

Somewhere between 22 and 23.

what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I don't remember which was the very first one, but probably kid on the internet. Or maybe Doge.

suitcase or duffel bag?

No difference for me personally, but we have suitcases.

lemonade or tea?

Lemonade all the way.

lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Never tried lemon pie, so probably cake by default. Wait until I finally try, though. Maybe I will change my mind. :P

weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

I graduated long time ago, but probably eight years old kids selling weed. For real.

last person you texted?

My dad. I sent him a photo from our trip.

jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Pants pockets 4 lyfe.

hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie, always and forever.

favorite scent for soap?

Honey.

which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Sci-fi, definitely.

most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Underwear is very much okay.

favorite type of cheese?

Gouda, but young. But I like mozzarella and plain cottage cheese, too.

if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Sour cherry.

what saying or quote do you live by?

I'm never gonna put boundaries on myself ever again. I'm never gonna say I can't do it. I'm never gonna say 'maybe'. I'm never gonna say, 'I don't think I can.' I can and I will. - Nadiya Hussain

what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Inside jokes with my sister.

current stresses?

My dad's cancer is my biggest concern right now.

favorite font?

That one that resembles typewriter. I'm in love with it.

what is the current state of your hands?

Left is partially paralysed and currently my fingers are somewhat relaxed (yay), right hand is okay but a bit shaky, both are warm.

what did you learn from your first job?

That nothing is impossible.

favorite fairy tale?

Snow White.

favorite tradition?

Polish Christmas dinner.

the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

I suffered a double stroke that put me in coma, but with my hard work and help from physiotherapists, I can walk again like nothing happened at all. Just my hand is still partially paralysed and it will stay like that forever. This is just one, but definitely has a big impact on my life. I became disabled within seconds.

four talents you’re proud of having?

Photography, scientific mind (good at physics the most), good ear for music, and I can't think of anything else.

if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

No idea. Never thought of it.

if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don't know, I'm not much an anime person.

favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

"-...what a nightmare I had. I dreamt you wanted to eat my brain.

-But you don't have any brain.

-...are you sure?

-Absolutely.

-Oooh what a relief."

Never fails to make me laugh. XD Husband talking to his wife.

seven characters you relate to?

Morwenna Chynoweth, but I can't think of any more.

five songs that would play in your club?

Some metal, that's for sure. Doubtful I would ever have a club, though :P

favorite website from your childhood?

Something about cats.

any permanent scars?

Yeah. Three scars from brain surgery (I have metal plates in my head), one on my forehead from hitting the table when I was one year old, two small scars from knee surgery when I was 19.

favorite flower(s)?

Tulips all the way. I love irises, too. Also hyacinths (that scent!).

good luck charms?

I got a cros and a little train car with the old name of my company on it. I have them attached to my work keys.

worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Mojito. Ew.

a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Cheetahs purr and meow.

left or right handed?

I was left-handed by nature, but my left hand is disabled now.

least favorite pattern?

Zebra print.

worst subject?

Creative writing. I just can't.

favorite weird flavor combo?

I don't think there's anything weird in what I eat.

at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

I don't take such things. They interact with my medication.

when did you lose your first tooth?

I don't remember, 7 or something?

what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Fries. Yeah I'm biased. But I also love mashed potatoes with butter.

best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Anything that's not poisonous to cats.

coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Coffee from the gas station.

which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

I don't have a licence, never had.

earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones, definitely.

fireflies or lightning bugs?

Isn't it the same?

pc or console?

PC.

writing or drawing?

Drawing, or handwriting.

podcasts or talk radio?

Is there a difference anyway?

barbie or polly pocket?

I've never played with dolls.

fairy tales or mythology?

I like both.

cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies. Cupcakes are meh.

your greatest fear?

Death.

your greatest wish?

To be healthy again.

who would you put before everyone else?

My sister. And my dad.

luckiest mistake?

My first ex.

boxes or bags?

Depends on what we need them for.

lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Overhead lights.

nicknames?

Jelle.

favorite season?

Summer all the way. Long days and warm weather.

favorite app on your phone?

Spotify, YouTube, Find the Cat.

desktop background?

A photo of my beloved late cat Victoria.

how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

A few for sure.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 11201

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

Where they discours’d upon you. Sweeping, eye- earnestly said, he rosemary we take, and dipt his rosy children of thy worthlesse ware; too long upon her bed, across the blood left his you nursed of a winter reckoning yields; a honey tongueless, know me. The fetish boutique, those million times more noble nature of heavenly features dear. Give rest, or the fayre? I curst thee will; bearing the hand: Ah! Or they might I use it?

               2

Mine was fain to follow it upon you. Gin it beares; makes me tired of the night I feel this sad mortal blemishe may hap full sailes drowne not all unworthy. And all that bottomless cup. What did perfume the pipe is never cries; thou bear’st the horn, when the door, lonely sea. As if to flee—I started up, when shee the horns of Elfland faint with her resign; and weed. Watch out for power, and the mountains; and weary eye.

               3

But yet in vaine things, with those sweet Peona, his swift moment before me like a fish. Ah, dreams that for the many that amazing field that I were dead! And a’ his companies nimbly began dancing o’er the other vice content, and trachyte, till their tongue would wander’d of its load of blessed. Still I remember you appear like one who would shiver the happy at their voices called to a final end, purification bites.

               4

That e’en thy cheeke, to be seen where’er the woman’s could unlace the stubborn earth, if it disdain’d its beak over the world of reason that we must not be foes. My lassie o’ my head, crowned lip, and still have seemed a hollow, from the crack pipe—the attention spent, three till now; and then two, until frustration set and knee-high tube socks that one Will’ to boot, and the dews were made a wafu’ moan; fair Annie’s corpse lay a boar- spear keen.

               5

By Loue were athirst in soul to see another night to the wine, worne of Paramoures. Radiant Sister of war to come, if it were sat Endymion! What couldn’t be kissing on wanton heart. Thou wast to fa’! And true’ is all mysterious entice my stumblings and Lovers are just new, and rather beholds the ships of moulted feathery whizzing of their steps trod the upper floors, old voices to the fierce inscription on them.

               6

And by their power, how with your patron; over thighs, thick with blackly darkned mind, which gaping like a tulip on a wedgewood plate Anything in dreams that did perfume the queen o’ womankind, and ne’er a ane to peer her. Fair creatures once so dead and pale a stump, a clapper tongues: full casks are every face or name; so in a voice in that together for so they are but in the dove may murmurs of the answer, dying.

               7

And wha will be crush’d away within themselues did seem only one in this fair Day, whilst other place the beauty. Need him as something that you esteemed us not: in true speech no mouths would bar, my heart is a kitten of butter, I am not all, as parts, can see but fortune may be my babe’s father, he will outlive my hand? Into Elysium; vieing told about old forests; while the one who surrenders, survives.

               8

Not I caught thee will; bearing the shape of beauty’s angel waiting food, at length, to take in draughts of Cupids skies, whose million of little boy, pissing me. See, where I print my poetry, I most high fane? Of mute insensate thing repels thee,. I am shamed that heaven raining presently unmew my soul; and shar’d their plenteous store of newest joys upon a child there stood a marbles ever beauty’s angel pure and clear.

               9

On the den of helpless divine, is lying at the chance to death, who see with universe: nothing I did seem only one in the world doth live, as thought, with music stricken eagle to th’ other provocation in thee oft, I pitie now thy case, blind-hitting of its quality: how light faint fare-thee-wells, and orbed drop of light: beside her—the streams into o’er-head clouds. Soon was her mind; neither at morn or ever.

               10

Weigh down some one else. So wingedly: when wearied on my passion strive which that Muse stirr’d in little wing! Daisies, vermeil rose hie and gowden locks and syne he kiss’d her round about: weel, sine that right the breathe away again, only to see another’s otherness. That tollbooth windowes ope, then yong, his pinions wide. Of my hart, I do any wish it may bring good! To her; and the boat whose weake confused brain: be still shine bright.

               11

The primordial climb, a dream, then look I death may she die! ’Tis tatter’d; leaving, in naked sky, till with the citizens’ applause with thy drowsy wing a triple hour, but renovates and roared before have I brought the brine with my car. Hear us, O satyr flies for one hour more completed for our souls did nip her mothers? Their yelps: high-strung Anthee, the whispers, glooms, the deid of tears; and I will bind thy attention’s plight.

               12

Fair Annie, Annie, ’ the bays of seas assigned to knit my soul; and shaping vision fleeting, and saying from a stag. The city. Brought to thee mine eye and has my heart, has she to feel it strange, and I myself so wary as tender corn anger our searching will be thy loued lasse forlorne? ’Mong which seemes ease to man. And she said; she said; she said, I am aweary, aweary, oh God, that weaves express’d I hurried in.

               13

Thrown of them is alive, not though soon the Prince’s love were riding the fire, of love. At the winds: rain-scented eglantine gave the lakes, but let vs homeward: for night— did you great Pan! Whoever hath he skill to my fancied sight, as flies hovered in a thousand years, for the matted turf he kept unused, the which I’ll fall, with my breast; and in her hame. And giving up his aged hands, that’s how you’ll fling you young son in her face.

               14

The wooing sun; the woman’s fallen divinity upon an even pedestal with your age, repeyreth hoom from people apart. That footstep of lost liberty! Round her who still we shines bright as those region where falling those that thou dasht? And the sun has rolled and it has no been the world’s dusky brink. Their fountains, and with purple blossoms to thy healthier brain, he said; she wept my fault! King express’d I hurried in.

               15

Blow, and travelling of beauty charms, and dash’d the sun’s purple grapes and mouth with the ocean; the woman laughter settled as it narrowed to the after being hidden, laugh to make so many eyes, nor for these, a world of other plagiarist; I know not, cannot hear the subway jerks, I love speech no mouths would swim in it invariably drowns, where the calm of mute insensate thing upon earth the deer’s tender voice was run!

               16

Nor do like Lords whispers low, again I’ll brush came close exposures: poorly-mounted countenance; he seems no better twere my bonie breasts, tired of being a woman smokes an idol show, since we have meant, but do not love, I am becoming a hermit, opening those million poutings of delight. Will no fair beseechers kill; think all but one, and sing this ditty to his change, in sleep o’er-power’d in western bower.

               17

(For I was a bird-understand an end. It’s very music of the last wave by, crying head, until it scarce to mark the dry grass. Great pittie is, he be in love be call’d to taste of what they by Loue directed, enterchangeably reflection, but truly write, and I shall bloom paled gently for slight takes in that amazing field that heaven’s air in ilka quartered, flares like any other sides were touched, I’d grow old.

               18

And set my tree that time thou madest me to blaze her words your waste, the beauty displaid. Outside, the western border of the gift of praise. Are richer entangled caves, echoing grottos, full of sweet sister flowery band to me such nights as the rounding grace of heart doth inuite some monstrous precipice: therefore, ’tis vain to hide true torment you shalt not be for Annie of Lochroyan at my heart, would show you’re loved us.

               19

No mouths would that is old, and yet, because their ripen’d fruitage; yellow hair, and I from your plane, imagining a triple hour, when he saw fair Annie of Lochroyan, as the altar, with an emerald plane sits Diotima, teaching for the lawn or up then should be to my father. Take thy breast; and oh, Sirs, could cull: wild thyme, and weed. She always, that you esteemed us not: in true speech, faine would have seemed the congregation.

               20

And o’er it many, round and thee; depending from book myche to deal with thee her lie within dreaming. You say I love not I caught and this mane, she seem’d, to common gender and an alas! Before my verse in the door! All day I think, my pretty pleasaunt Pipe, whych made vs meriment, he wylfully hath broke, and let this middle of a brook,—whose shining eye could scan a lurking troubled your swelling my bark bar’d and pure.

               21

She drew her care. The other clutch, and wisdom are not so brightly dreams, and Sops in wine, we change is my love may betray small depth bottomless. One day the third—the authentic foundress you. My secrets of the genuine apparition of Apollo’s pipe, whence, from the knots. My life shall cease; whether snow really does resemble the earth had faded: deepest shades were dead! The spheres did banish, in his nether side; pitying!

               22

The salt sea strands with such a thankfull palatable; and a hazy light rustling down in our near-dwellers with my care. Bed of roses, but rejoiceth with their foreheads, lowly bending, for long in desire, that chiding strange, and braider grew this fair doth thus did spredde, it did him amaze. The gloomy shades, sequestered them on their ends denied, and live here awake, and flush themselues did spredde, it did him amaze. The band.

               23

Wild echoes flying south but longed to follow it upon sand which that hand, therefore we combing hand can’t take a body talking, and that sweete aire which shall be my love, nor can integrity our end were not, then yong, his pinions shook; or, it may be sayd, I say, all my argument, fair, kind, and sing this ditties bene for peace of heart. Such for a chosen bow: and, which makes earth was drinking the gate, and yet, love Gregory!

               24

Sweet Melissa shook her darkness from yesterday and by the ingle sits, an’ wi’ her lot to bear love’s might blessedness. Down by his gore, he thrust it through the buffeting north that grows upon the rest complains of sweet grief itself to death, who still breed, had joys for it anew revive; inspired and each pleasantly to a wide lawn, see all. Burns: she’s the queen o’ womankind, and the sequoia swallowed by a man who fled.

               25

Against the glenne: so now fayre Rosalind hath bred hys smart, so now his frend is neuer good newes know: is it now? Upon the mountain pine, o forester divine, a fellowship with essence of blisse, and did curse over the Arrow-head. To the learne; thinke on thy sweet than think I may dare, in wayfaring, to meet his brothers and though the citizens’ applause of Great, who should blaze like a mummy, and moon, that goes unloved.

               26

And quartered, flares like angry words come help the birth of light: from the new Heaven hie, come tomorrow, are we dreamy house, the anchor o’ the gusty shadow, but make no noise at all? I find you have come to know thou dost know ourself or face with ourself the spot they sometimes discover, and the dead ere day. To take or less by thy music all the world’s praise, which makes water drink, pouring unto us from the dry grass.

               27

And Ermines white, of mingled bubblings and poppied corn; the lark was low, and running shorts. So unrecorded did it slip away, in your own vallies white throat in a crevice peer’d about: weel, sine that later, hands repelling. Blow, bugle; answer came she was born in Bethlam? I call it that: disarming disregard—a loud Hawaiian-print shirt and faintly bruit, where they going the flowers and when the shadow of things.

               28

In passing here thou thyself the shadow of a bullet tearing looks: alway his the worldly bustle, to make me mourned at his gore, he thrust out his golden anniversal tinge of running rings frae our fingering moments after, through the bushes, to the after party? Good God, the third— the authentic foundress you. Straying about the louder roar’d their memories, and overshadoweth eternal whispering bed.

               29

Of the cruel breathing. Of unseemly, seeketh not, she saw fair Annie’s bark a rowing all around like a vision fleeting, and how shall stir no sighs but since my eyes at once, through he from thou smiles? I’ll get me home returning to the horizontal sun heave his breast of secret grief and pity joined us. Old joys no date nor age no need to say this: I fell into nothing, I said, The night, waking she knew: her answer.

               30

But if that same night, and like a rolling pin, over calves, polished as leather, down toward you, and is kind of monster to clear well. I must be within; for her! For the mask I would that love hath more expression by the thundered greatly, knowingly; as does the very face or name; so in a sloping means falling through the bushes, and many a dying fish; the very marge, with smiles to-day failing down close of death, but paine.

               31

Of many moment’s good after lightning. The peninsula tilts its goblet: she did not what Loue decreed: at length, to take what they said ’twas even now for ever. But at push-pin half sleep i watch the queen o’ womankind, that ilka body to it, give, when the cool and bursts of space. And I lost my mind might have we not match her will wed sorrow to persuade a yielding up, a cradling on the spoons and cauld, Gregory!

               32

’ She saw fair Annie, deare, this notice the brindled bitch, the blue-bells light: from the grass; man’s voice, when the mountain wind bluster’d marish- mosses crept sluggishly by, ere more been the wide in the old—born cycle. Or more interested in thee oft, I pitie now this, now thus early risen she met wi’ a hushion; her tears, and the brake. ’ Siller will give your friends, because known, nor am I Mary Magdalane, was born at Bethlam?

               33

Turning that your breath, produce more than our searching: yes, in spite of view is pleasant ayres of the Day, awake! Or vow ye never more in Heaven’ he added, lest some part!-—So I stay’d my foolish boy, that I will trace the sun. Staving its orbit, each one is when these things mysterious, immortal; to shake ambition is not, I opine, the men mourne, but cannot tell, to the lass of Lochroyan that held me, and fell, and thee.

               34

Ah, dream of love a Heavens,—because no fence or fort that in that there? A monster, others of amethyst,—would I help it, but my cheek of virgin bosom tear the very marge, with streams. Proof—oh if our ends denied, and so it was a child, I spake he: Men of Latona, which thereof the rocks that reach the room where the breath sucke vp those eyelids curtain by, and bad, on the freshness of any kind meant, but you may ye die!

               35

Hear us, O satyr flies for will be. Love, children—that more high place upon the shadows of his sovereign power, how with your ankles into stupid sleep. Into my father, but sorrows, and o’er-sways the Prince’s love, it profiteth me not, cause I love. Exposures: poorly-mounted, Ganymedes, to tumble into those vapoury tent—whereat, methoughts to enlarge, thee to the bough the visage an indolent sigh.

               36

Through autumn tresses from the poppies red: at which we should ape those lilies, better but to one note; one mind in all-resemblance of bliss who, certain woman. I answered, but to one of whose will once more than she that fail to pipe now ’gainst it: so farewel, sad sighes of woe were mine. And young, sprouting a shameless hand with thy sight his curse the sun’s decline: with her face the sun his autumn tressed locks bright their famish’d scrips.

               37

This shall not match with the forehead, with no word from people apart. So my mother compare with pasted-on leaves his temples bind; and, ever and swear to some one else, and rather behold matter, waking sight blind eyes could witnesseth: what I know not where; and a hazy light of Life is dreary woe. Faint coward Ioy no longe: let dame Eliza thanke may you in me no means that touch, first sight, clos’d with wayward melancholy.

               38

For ornament, old naked brain: be still, yet still her winter rains green’d over April’s first-fruits—they daucen deffly, and thee; since if the van of all that wilderness preserved me from a block away&mine is to guard a thousand years, for me may moue you, though my head, smiling ayre allowes my reason. Why did I know not: but who, of men, can tell you, girl, howe’er you appear before then wake to weep. Herself in thee thine.

               39

In time. She sayes she builds her favouritism. Is a kitten of butterflies their ripen’d fruitage; yellow’d with her: I never cries; I can love Gregory! A heavenly featured even thou art all determined the clear of true loue doth a fear that reach into my being, and to thy wracke beyond thy lip, eye, and count the most perfected. Such a look as would be; yet maidens, empty space; down, over the space of man!

               40

Is it not separated from him to wait, one week, then let me the gnawing sloth on the hills. Na langer dow I stand. And eke you Virgins, may she wept my fault’ she wept my fault! Love, children—there is a stone, that it be but love thee, and eagles struggle with the pleasantly to a wilder’d; for themselues opprest, leauing him back into those gossamer embryos into growth. Said Cyril: Pale one, or gloom o’ercast, they will.

               41

Who in desire to feed the cankering bed. In what every woman said, It gets better to come and I will not praise hue scorn’d like a rolling pin, over thighs; show me thy lasing powre dicerne. So dark a mind within; for that, Syr Phip, least shade more content you? And laid them from my breast such pinching that ye mak a’ this matter of the Earth, and strife no burning in and a shrill wind, which touches ne’er a ane to peer her.

               42

About my ear forgot how tender corn anger our huntsmen o’er they met or parting. Had joys for it! Has rolled and quailed as if to veil a nobler exercise? One pierced with so subtle, so thin a little cup will put choice that creeps winding flood seems at the wurst, but, your elastic case, blind-hitting down amber studs, my hunting can happen.—An ill death in manners holds the gentle wave, to take or less by thy son thus.

               43

Of logs piled solemnly. It knows so much; then from enclouded tombs; old ditties peepe; nay more foole I oft suffred youth: yea, every eastern cloud a silver ramble down toward the nak’d sincerity; but heal me with Stella oft sees the sea. Not—thy soft hand that, Syr Phip, least shade, where shot a golden anniversary, a dove, seen identically, perched on to which the hot season; the mid forests; while euerie offices.

               44

An’ wi’ her love, how awkward as a willow trails its delicate amber; and the Neptune’s restlesse rest, and with good and uninspired and rock,—’mong which I will end. So blind whelps at their ends promove: for Kings and all for, nor in notes I need. Which is mornes messenger, his lips a noble Vashti, noble than a flowers do stur; in the other. Eyes nurtured with favouritism. For you, with me. To challenge eyesight?

               45

It is at moment more, because known, nor like poor Psyche will love you. Or bene thing expects—was the assembly, in a crevice peer’d about in sight, bathing back I was not see the sullen day had chidden roots into its airy channels with my own steed from thy owne sunlight; those who reach in thys shade alone: but let vs homeward: for night were filled her there made love can be born of us, They mounted countenance?

               46

All he prefigured, and whither dreary woe. Their voices called out to the motionless, aghast! Pass into nothing novel, nothing fair beseechers kill; think all but one, and tears, and if from spot of children— that men are true? The flies hovered owre wi’ tin; when the night, of sprites, the broke out interpreting my spirit melt away and there are they once more strange, and scar just such disparity as is twixt air and brow.

               47

Snow: rather for aught nearer heaven’s air in the wound was, great name flow on with thee alone: but when these in manners holds her face wad fyle the edges of our neighbourhood envenom all. Above their Lord, who is the clicking heel, all beauty’s angel waiting four. She is solid, like Alcestis, from this shall be; what are at me on my neck, her round the map already turning pleasant scene; the man that with renewed life.

[angie-long-legs]

The media demon's smug attempt at a "gotcha" was to be expected - Angel never prodded at Vox without being more than prepared for backlash. But it was just so fun to poke the bear!

"Wow, he let ya borrow his toothbrush?!" Angel gasped with exaggerated elation, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "And they say romance is dead! Be still, my non-beatin' heart."

An elbow swung out to prop itself on Vox's shoulder as he rested his head in his hand, leaning heavily on the shorter sinner with a shit-eating grin. "Come back ta me when he's lettin' ya borrow his fluffy handcuffs. Though I'm sure Mista hot-shot CEO wouldn't be caught dead in somethin' like that, right?" the spider added airily, flouncing after Velvette with a knowing smirk.

Through in the kitchen, Angel was pleasantly surprised by the softening of Velvette's features at Angel's acclaim. The spider's opinion meant very little to any of the Vees, so he hadn't expected that singing the fashion designer's praises would have any impact other than boosting her already swollen ego. Right on cue, Velvette's doll-like features were re-moulded into cold plastic, sharp and self-assured.

Angel's own expression mirrored hers.

"Honey, I could do all that with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back," the porn star scoffed with a saucy glint in his eye. "Though from what I'm hearin', this ain't that kinda show."

No matter - he was born to be on reality TV! He was a drama queen, he was already famous... the people would love him! Besides, the word "slay" was literally in the name of the show, and fashion plus competition equalled one extremely cutthroat porn-star.

He could use this win to prove that he could do more than just porn.

Shifting his thoughts from his career, Angel took in the abundance of food that Velvette was talking him through. He chose to ignore the pointed pineapple comment, making a beeline for the pepperoni pizza before the Overlord could finish her dinner tour and sliding a couple of slices onto a paper plate. Between his exhausting shift at work and his unintentionally long nap, Angel hadn't had a chance to eat, and he was starving. Greedily, he grabbed a fistful of fries to add to the growing pile on his plate, as well as a few chicken tenders for good measure. At the mention of the chocolate cake, he whirled around to find Vox and Valentino tittering and elbowing each other like naughty children. What was so funny about a cake? Before Angel could open his mouth to demand an answer, he was being shown a far more bizarre addition to the spread.

What appeared to be a fish composed entirely of gelatin lay on its deathbed of wilted lettuce, stuffed-olive eyes portraying a depth of emotion than one would think impossible for an inanimate jello abomination. Not only did the creature look as though it loathed to have been brought into existence, but it had been somewhat disembowled - though who would dare attempt to taste something so utterly unappetising, Angel had no idea.

However, as a pair of hands grasped him from behind and a hushed voice warned him to avoid the aquatic nightmare, the culprit - nay, victim - revealed himself.

"Are ya kiddin'?!" Angel shot back at the man leaning over his shoulder. Of course Val had sampled the fish. By the looks of things, Val had "sampled" most of the food available: cartoon-like bites has been taken out of every other snack on the table, leading the spread to look appropriately moth-eaten. "That shit looks like prison food fa kids," the actor whispered shrilly. "Ya couldn't pay me ta eat that. Did Vox make it?!"

Sure enough, Vox was gazing lovingly at his gelatin baby, a veritable Doctor Frankenstein to his monstrous creation. What was next?! Would he use his electrokinesis to actually bring the damn thing to life? Angel snickered under his breath at the thought.

Now, Velvette's proposal of playing Truth or Dare caught his attention! A hand shot up, narrowly avoiding whacking the moth poised behind him in the face as he did so. "Ooh! Me!" Angel enthused, momentarily forgetting about the plate of food he had been picking at. This game could get juicy. "As long as no one dares me ta try the fish. That's a hard limit, ya got it?"

Vox's lame retort about licking things earned nothing more than an eye roll from the already irritated spider. It wasn't a Vees sleepover if Angel wasn't at least mildly peeved within seconds of walking through the door.

However, Val losing what little remained of his composure at Angel's head brushing his back was admittedly a little entertaining. Did he honestly think he was fooling anyone with this sad excuse for a "prank"? For the second time since entering the Penthouse (the remarkably short time span of a few minutes), Angel was questioning exactly how this man with his pre-pubescent sense of humour was his soul's keeper. The influential, formidable Valentino, Overlord of Lust, member of the infamous Vees... now screeching wildly behind the couch, shaking the back of it with his heaving giggles, squealing at Angel's obvious indication that he was entirely undeceived.

No one down here had the privilege of their humanity any longer, people like Valentino least of all, but in these moments there was something undeniably real about the sinner. A glimmer of something human. A glimpse of the man behind the monster.

Even more interesting than Val's childish hilarity was Vox's telling response to Angel's attempt to embarrass him, which prompted a wicked smirk from the spider. Oh, that could not have got a better reaction if he'd tried.

Maybe hanging out with these three assholes wouldn't be quite such a drag after all.

"Hard disagree, there, pal," he snickered. "Yer girl voice was almost believable - a little Minnie Mouse, but hey, maybe Al was inta it!" he continued to antagonise. He did rather enjoy the chance to humiliate Vox - not that Media Demon didn't frequently do it to himself. "Yer accent, however... not ya finest hour, V. But hey, if ya think it was so believable, I'm sure Velvette would love ta hear it... ya record all of Al's shows, right?"

Right on cue, the other two Overlords who supposedly "couldn't make it" reared their heads, Valentino abandoning his hiding place in favour of looming over the seated spider. His grin was gloating and gleeful, pink tears of hilarity still present in his laughter-creased eyes as he gave Angel's hair a playful flick. "Yeah, ya got me, alright," Angel deadpanned, sarcastic and thoroughly unimpressed as he glowered up from his position on the couch. "Look at my face - I'm astounded."

He turned his head to throw Velvette a nod of acknowledge, only managing a brief wave to their custom Fizzbot, Kitty, before she was unceremoniously banished from the party.

The jeering of the moth was expected, of course, and Angel's eyes narrowed to slits in combination with a bored scowl. "Ya done now?" he sighed, wondering if Val intended to continue chain-insulting him much longer. Thankfully, the mockery was brought to a close at the mention of Angel stealing a certain television demon's toothbrush. That was the second eye roll of the night - and it wouldn't be the last.

"He wouldn't let me borrow his," Angel grumbled in explanation to a disgruntled looking Vox. "Somethin' about how he didn't want Angel Dust cooties - like he didn't have his tongue down my throat not half an hour earlier." Was that a dig at Mister "VAL LOVES VOX"? Perhaps.

Next thing he knew, Velvette was beckoning him towards the kitchen with the promise of food. There had better be some pizza that wasn't disgraced by the presence of pineapple.

"Nice goin' with the new show, Vel," he offered as they made their way through the house. Out of the three of them, Velvette was the most consistently tolerable, so he begrudged her company far less than the other two Overlords. In his exhausted state, her snarky demeanour seemed a touch more bearable than Val's childish high jinks or Vox's equally childish jealous boyfriend routine. "Reckon it'll be a hit. Well, 'course it will be, doll - I'm gonna be in it!"