#good golly it went on forever!

[bokettochild]

Febuwhump Day 5 - Rope Burn

Well this took forever! I actualy finished last ight but then I wasn't sure if I hated it or not, so I had to sleep on it. If you see any typos, no you do not.

Wordcount: 9,300

Rating: Teen

Summary: After Twilight reveals some information about his past, Four tries to use it as a learning opportunity for all of them. It does not go as expected.

-

  “There is no way a military leader was that incompetent.”  

  Wild pauses in his story, much to Wind’s frustration, because he really did want to hear the end of it, which he’s about to say, only the vet’s voice raises, a smirk touching the other’s face as he settles down at the fire with the rest of them after coming back from doing rounds. “Sounds about right to me.”  

  “Too competent,” Warriors challenges, dropping his head to thoroughly tousle his hair, “half my men couldn’t do that.” That’s fair, Wind decides, he remembers the captain’s men as all being somewhat... stupid. 

  The champion stares at them, openly astounded. “How,” he begins, glancing between the vet and captain “are your kingdoms still standing? If the leaders of your defenses are less capable than Master I-killed-myself-on-accident-with-my-own-power Kohga?” 

  “Spoilers!” That’s how the story ends? Wild had only just begun to get to the part where he fought Kohga, but now the ending has been well and truly ruined! Although, it seems they’re getting derailed, so it’s quite likely he won’t even get to hear said ending, considering the champion is too busy looking between captain and veteran for answers. 

  The vet just snorts, unknowing of what he’s missed, and of Wind’s ire, and simply crossing his legs and focusing on the fire. “Where do you think I got the title of veteran? I don’t just sit on my fanny all day, champ.” 

  When the champion’s eyes turn to Warriors, the captain just shakes his head. “I have no clue.” It‘s more sigh than anything, as though the captain’s long since given up hopes for competency among his people. “I’d say Impa, but even she can’t hold the country together by herself, so I’m assuming it’s pure dumb luck.” 

  Across camp, Sky, who’d been the first one to say anything after the champion’s insane story, stares. “You’re saying I brought down the knights of Skyloft just so they could devolve into idiotic half-competent protectors of the country and leave kids to be the ones to save the world?” It’s harsh, but it’s fair as well, although not everyone seems to think so. Wind can’t say anything on the matter though because the closest to military groups they have in his world are pirates, and pirates don’t exactly serve the people. 

  The group as a whole gives each other considering looks, although Legend and Warriors are too busy talking with their eyes- Legend raising a brow and Warriors sighing, rolling his own eyes and earning a smirk in answer- to really care about what everyone else thinks. He thinks Legend asked a question, but how either of them can read each other that well, considering how rarely they even interact, he’s not sure.  

  “The knights in my era are half-competent,” Four assures, “easily manipulated by magic, but they’re just people, so I can’t really blame them. They’re good at their work though.” 

  “Lucky,” Legend scoffs. 

  Time also seems confident in the soldiers of his era, but Twilight adds that his own are cowards and pathetic, so it seems they’re split. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule can’t add anything, due to the lack of military forces in their eras, the soldier is in agreement with their farm boys on the idiocy of his own people, and only their first two and the old man seem to have any faith whatsoever in those set to guard their era. He wonders if maybe there was a decline, after one of them, that led to the army of Hyrule falling, but he doesn’t ask, since it’s unlikely they can say for sure anyway. 

  “How often do you interact with knights though?” Sky challenges, glancing between them. Most haven’t been around them often, but those who’ve got only ill to say all scoff, almost simultaneously, which startles them as much as it does the rest of the group. 

  “I live with them,” the captain starts slowly, glancing between Twilight and Legend with a curious half-smile as though he’s actively trying to figure out what on earth could tie them to the people whom they so frequently scorn. “Spent the last five or six years in the army.” 

  The vet’s a bit more hesitant with his answer, staring between them warily, guarded. “My sister is a knight commander, and our family has ties with the army, so I end up around them a lot more than I’d like, even when they aren’t actively hunting me down.” And Wind wants to stop the conversation there and ask about the fact that Legend apparently has a family and also a reason for the army to be up his ass about something, but he doesn’t get a chance because once more, someone else speaks first. 

  “I grew up on a military base,” Twilight snorts, “trust me, soldiers are as dumb as rocks.” 

  And well, Legend having a family isn’t that crazy in comparison to that. 

  Warriors starts, staring at the rancher, blinking slowly as though still trying to process the words of the other. “I’m sorry- you what?” 

  “I thought you grew up in Ordon?” Wild questions, turning to his mentor, confusion on clear display. 

  Yeah, Wind has a feeling that Wild’s story is well and truly over now, but he supposes it’s worth it. Learning something about their rancher is, he supposes, better than hearing the rest of the story the cook had already spoiled the ending too, especially as the limit of their knowledge about the rancher at this point is that he’s from Ordon, used to work as a ranch hand, and is descended from Time and Malon somehow. The fact that he’s a hero goes without saying, but the ranch hand nearly never shares anything about himself, even though he seems to love talking about his hometown and all the people in it, to the point where some of them feel they know the village and its residents already, despite still not having been there yet. 

  Yet, the rancher is grinning as he leans back, the sprig of hylian rice between his teeth bouncing some as he flashes a wolfish grin at them. “Well, yeah, sort of.” 

  “Sort of?” Time nudges his pup, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Their leader isn’t keen on them being cryptic with him, even though he frequently does so himself. The hypocrite. “Explain.” 

  The rancher chuckles, a nervous little thing, but obediently pulls himself up, resting his weight over his knees as he looks around the fire at all of them, eyes glinting slightly. “Well, y’see, I a’tually grew up in a citadel on the edge of Hyrule.” 

  Warriors jaw drops so fast. “Holy Hylia you’re a military brat.” 

  He can’t help it; he bursts into laughter. Yes, objectively, it’s funny to see Warriors so shocked, but from an outsider's perspective it is so, so much funnier because he’s met Warriors parents and sisters, and he’s seen for himself the proof that the captain is anything but the sissy city boy Twilight likes to accuse him of being. No, the captain was born in Hebra, so far out from cities that he thought Kakariko was huge. Meanwhile, it turns out their “country boy” actually grew up in a military base? Not the country? It turns out Twilight is the military brat and Warriors was the hill-billy? How the turn tables have turned! 

  The rest of the heroes stare at him, confused, but the captain just rolls blue eyes, pinching the tip of his ear to make him shut up. “Ignore him.” 

  Twilight’s dark gaze flicks between them, but apparently, he determines to listen to the captain for once. “Right, so, my dad was a’tually a knight from some family o’ knights or summat, an’ my mom comes from desert folk, so I grew up on the border studyin’ with other knights’ kids to take on our fathers’ duties ’n protect Hyrule one day.” 

  The stares are very, very evident by now, although Legend’s in particular is strangely intense, studying the other with his mouth half open like he’s got a question about the rancher’s words.  

 Broad shoulders shrug, a bit awkward as the rancher grins at them. “My friends growin’ up were dumber’n rocks, an’ every knight I’ve met since is the same, so yeah. Knights ‘re stupid.” 

  “Just a question,” and it seems the vet decided to actually ask whatever’s in his head, “but your knight family, they Hyrulian Knights?” 

  “Yeah?” 

  The vet nods, slowly, lips pursed like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Oh.” 

 “Why?” 

  A shake of pink hair, eyes turning back to the fire. “Same hat is all.” 

  “You too?” 

  “Born and raised, but never followed. Your folks drag you to Snowpeak every winter too?” 

  The rancher shakes his head. “Naw, yeti’s took the place over some time ago. I’d heard it used to be ours though, never thought much of it though. You’ve been?” 

 “Yeah.” 

  “Hold up,” Watrriors interrupts the, frankly unexpected, moment between their rancher and vet to stare between both of them “You’re both military brats, you both hate soldiers, and you both neglected to say anything until freaking now? Also, Hyrulian Knights? You’re talking about the fabled family that sealed back Ganon here, right? Produced the Savior of Labrynna, may or may not be the family of the Hero of Time?” That has their old man looking up, startled, for a moment. It’s only a moment though, because that one wide eye promptly shoots down to Twilight and then, as though on second thought, Legend too, Time’s stare growing ever more startled and shaken, ears twitching like they used too when he was particularly confused or trying to work something out in his head. 

  Legend snorts. “Yes.” 

  “Heads up,” Hyrule chuckles, “Legend is the Hero of Labrynna, so keep your hero worship at a minimum there, Wars.” 

  He thinks that the captain’s face flickers through all five stages of grief for a moment there before the man gets up and simply...walks away, leaving Hyrule rocking in his seat from laughter and Sky looking thoroughly befuddled. “Is he okay?” 

  “Big hero worship,” Wind says, like the snitch he is. He’s no traitor in most senses, but if he can give Warriors a little grief, tease him a bit, he will. He’s fine with sharing some of the things he’d learned under the care of the other. “Apparently he views that guy like I did with Time, wanted to be like him and everything.” 

  Rather than flush or falter, Legend’s lemon-sucking face gets even more pronounced. “Why?” 

  “Because apparently the stories all say you were such an inspiring leader to Labrynna’s army that soldiers and generals emulated both your tactics and speeches for decades after Ganon’s defeat.” It’s amazing to watch the vet’s entire world-view shatter at the words, the man apparently not sure if he should look off towards their captain who’s flopped on his bedroll to contemplate his whole life all over again or down at the ground to contemplate his own. Like the problem child he usually chooses not to be, Wind decides to make it worse. “His Hyrule considers you the greatest knight that ever lived.” 

  Ringed hands bury in pink hair, violet eyes blowing wide as the other hunches over, mind clearly blown. Beside the vet, Twilight gently (and by gently, Wind means very cautiously) claps his brother’s back, his own face a bit tense. 

 Wind is loving watching this. This is better than listening to Wild explain his exploits against the Yiga! Although, he’s also curious. “Did you really grow up in a citadel, Twi?” 

  “Yeah,” a brief nod, dark eyes lingering on their malfunctioning veteran, “I only traveled up Ordon way around your age, when the citadel fell.” 

  Okay, not touching that bomb. “What was it like?” 

  His question earns a grin. “What you’d expect, I s’pose. We were monsters as kids, an’ I s’pose growin’ up military gave us a twisted view of the world. Or, rather, of what was normal any’ays.” 

  “Like how?” Sky, who grew up in a knight’s academy and seems entirely normal by what standards Wind has, asks. 

  “Our main games usually centered around pretendin’ to be knights an’ capturin’ each other or doin’ what we saw our dads doin’ most of the time.” 

  “Like?” Time prods again. 

 Twilight grins, and then falters, looking suddenly alarmed as he glances over the rest of them. “Okay, in hindsight, it was messed up.”   

  Now he really wants to know. “What did you do?”  

  The others all stare; those who aren’t, like Warriors and Legend, currently questioning their existence. Their concern is steadily growing the more Twilight falters and flushes, and Wind is now very much dying to know what sort of shenanigans the rancher used to get up to as a kid. Whatever it was, it can’t be worse than what Time used to put him through during the war, although the idea of their sweet and warm rancher being related to the gremlin he remembers from back then is now not so insane a concept anymore. 

  “Alright,” The (apparently not from Ordon) Ordonian starts at last, and Wind’s not sure if the rancher is aware that he’s moved his hand up to be toying with the vet’s hair now, a nervous sort of stroking, but the vet hasn’t snapped at him for it yet, although maybe that’s because he’s just too lost in his own head to notice, “don’t judge.” 

  “I will reserve my judgement,” Four answers, slowly, “but no promises.” 

  “I grew up on the edge of the desert, an’ most of what our folks did was hunt Gerudo thieves an’ protect traders in an’ outta the desert.” Which makes sense, but he feels like Twilight’s getting at something less than what his parents did for a living. “Nowadays, my hairs a fair bit darker, but it was purdy red back then an’ the other kids kind of figured it meant that when we played, I had to be the evil Gerudo thief, since, y’know, red hair.” 

  Ah, racism in children, now Wind sees it. Not what he was hoping for but he’s not sure what he was expecting. 

  “So,” Twilight clears his throat awkwardly, “when we played, I’d be the bad guy an’ they’d chase me down and ‘capture’ me. In hindsight, it probably was less play an’ more bullyin’ since I wasn’t too well liked at first an’ they weren’t very nice about it.” 

  “But?” Sky asks, maybe too hopefully. 

  “But,” the rancher accepts, because apparently there's something good in this after all, or at least something that makes the man smile, “part of the ‘game’ involved them tryin’ to tie me up. Unfortunately for them, I got mighty good at escapin’ bein’ tied up. I think I must’ve impressed ‘em, because they started makin’ a game of if I could escape various crazy things, an’ sometimes would ask me to help ‘em tie each other up so they could try a hand at it too.” Sharp teeth glint in a fond smile. “Got a reputation for bein’ slippery as a snake and sly as a fox, an’ t’others all started treatin’ me like some sorta genius. We became friends awful fast after.” 

  An awkward silence settles over camp after that, the rancher’s words sinking in and the rest of them processing what was said. Surprisingly, it’s Legend who breaks it, lifting his head from his own hands, apparently having decided to shelf whatever feelings he’s having, but also apparently missing the hand still tangled in his hair. “So, in other words, you earned the respect of your bullies and made their bullying into what sounds like a perfectly normal childhood game.” 

  “What sort of a childhood did you have again?” Sky deadpans. “Didn’t you start adventuring at like, eight?” 

  “And?” The vet returns, looking actually, genuinely confused as to what that has to do with anything. 

  Their chosen hero sighs, shaking his head, apparently already giving up on trying to explain the flaw in the vet’s logic. Honestly, Wind can’t see it, whatever it is, but he’s getting the impression that kids on Skyloft and kids in Hyrule have very, very different experiences.  

- 

  It’s about a week later that someone brings it up again, and surprisingly, it’s Four. 

  They’re sitting around the main room of the smithy’s house, keeping warm after spending the last day out in the middle of a strange mix of fog and rain while hunting monsters. The smithy’s parents have been very welcoming towards their guests, and all of them are savoring the chance to fully relax for the first time in a good while. Well, most of them, Legend and Hyrule don’t seem particularly capable of fully relaxing, so Four’s mother has roped them into helping her in the little garden out back, which seems to be quite to the vet’s tastes and, while foreign to Hyrule, a new experience the traveler doesn't seem keen on passing up. 

  That leaves the rest of them free in the otherwise empty house, left to their own devices while the smithy’s father attends to his work at the castle. Twilight is trying (and failing) to teach Warriors how to play chess, and Wind and Wild are busy playing with Four’s cat, Tongs, when the smithy suddenly walks into the room again after coming downstairs and addresses the rancher. “Do you think you could still escape being tied up?” 

  Time, who was sitting on the couch, looking halfway towards dozing off, suddenly starts awake again and stares, as do the rest of them. 

  “Pardon?” The rancher asks, sighing in defeat as Warriors knocks all the pieces off the chess board with an agitated scowl, signifying his disinterest in continuing to try and learn the “stupid” game. 

  “The game you mentioned,” Four reminds them, crossing the room to perch on the couch arm closest to the rancher, although why he doesn’t just sit on the couch, Wind’s not sure. “You said your friends were really impressed by your ability to escape all the time. Do you think you could still do that?” 

  Twilight shrugs, scooping up the fallen chess pieces to put back in their box, all while Warriors glares at one of the rooks like it’s personally offended him. Wind wasn’t watching close enough to know if it had or not. “I mean, I might, haven’t tried in a while. Why?” 

  The smithy kicks his feet, well off the floor, and frowns, a thoughtful frown like he’s slowly piecing his words together. “I was curious. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, and I wanted to know if you’d be willing to show us so I could get better.” 

  “And why do you need to get better at escaping being tied up?” The captain interjects, tossing the white rook into the box with a twitch of a frown. 

  “So sure you want to ask that?” Sky snorts, moseying in from the kitchen where Four’s mother had given them free access to make tea and grab food. The face the captain makes at him is scandalized but their chosen hero just slurps his tea, staring over the rim of his cup with raised brows. 

  Wind doesn’t get the joke. He’s not sure if he wants to. 

  Four huffs, slightly red in the cheeks, but presses on. “During my adventure, I made...some mistakes. It resulted in my capture, and I couldn’t exactly escape. I don’t want that to happen again.” It’s a simple enough answer, glazing over anything and everything other than the smithy getting captured, but it still raises questions, although not the ones the smithy was likely trying to avoid. 

  “I thought you were a knight?” Warriors picks up the queen piece, not dropping it yet but not staring at it either, instead focusing his narrowed eyes on their smithy. “All soldiers are trained on what to do in the case of capture, torture, and questioning. Did you not recieve that training?” 

  It’s Twilight’s turn to shift about to stare at the captain. “How would they train that sort of thing?” 

  The captain’s face screws up, “Am I the only one who was taught this? Sky,” the man drops the queen and it goes rolling across the table, “did you or did you not receive-” 

  “No,” the chosen hero doesn’t even wait for the other to finish. “Who on earth would even interrogate us? Skyloftian knights fight monsters, not men.” A long sip follows the words before Sky frowns and turns to look down at the seated soldier. “Do they seriously teach you about torture?” 

  “Yes?” Warriors glances around, but all of them look back at him with confusion. “All common soldiers learn this? You have to in order to progress through the ranks?” 

  “Not ringing a bell,” Time deadpans, staring at the captain with both eyes. 

  Warriors blinks, like the idea that his experience with knighthood not being universal is, in fact, a surprise to him. Wind can’t blame him though, considering based off of what he knows about the other, Warriors had gone through most of his experiences beside dozens of other young men, including his own childhood friends, in order to reach the rank he was at before the war started and he’d been suddenly promoted to captain. 

  “Well,” Four shifts, crossing his legs, “that’s a can of worms to be addressed later, but back to my question: Twilight, can you teach me escape tricks?” 

  “Correction,” Time sits up and turns around, eyes lingering on the captain a moment more before turning on his pup, “Twilight, Warriors, would both of you two be willing to help the rest of us learn escape methods and-” a vague hand motion is made at the soldier, “-whatever sort of training you received that all the rest of the knights here haven’t.” 

  The request seems to make the captain extremely uncomfortable and Wind doesn't miss the way royal blue eyes dart to him, hesitant. “Not the torture part.” 

  “What does that entail?” Sky asks, stare sharp and heavy in ways the man usually never is. 

  “Doesn’t matter,” Warriors is already moving to stand, leaving Twilight to clean up the rest of their game by himself. “I’m not teaching that to kids.” 

 “I am not a child!” It feels like the thousandth time he’s said that, but the look in the captain’s eyes.... yeah, he’ll let the man have this one. He's not sure he wants to see what it is that Warriors is trying to protect them from, especially after he saw everything that happened to the man during the war. 

  - 

  They have to recruit Legend and Hyrule from the garden, which Four does, and in the meantime Wind produces a length of rope for them to use for the exercise. The captain and Twilight are speaking in hushed whispers in the corner when Four returns with the others, and Legend shoots them a curious look as he heads over to where Wind is uncoiling all the rope he had in his bag. 

  “What’s going on?” 

  “Training exercise.” He answers, handing off the rope to the vet, who starts slightly at the contact but then helps him in re-coiling the loose chord.  

  “Why is the captain so tense?” 

  Those words make him look up, staring for a moment. Twilight seems perfectly at ease, but their soldier’s shoulders are tense, jaw set in a way he usually only has during a battle or shortly after one. Even the captain’s hands are still; devoid of their typical tremor, and if that’s not a sign to make him worry, he’s not sure what is. That said, he’s a bit surprised Legend had picked up on that. “I think he’s got bad memories of doing this before, he was pretty firm with Time about what he was and wasn’t willing to teach us.” 

  “Which is?” 

  “What to do if you’re captured or otherwise held against your will,” Time seems to materialize out of nowhere to answer the question, making Legend start slightly and scowl at the man. “Apparently most knights are trained to handle it, and I think you boys could benefit from having that knowledge too.” 

  “Yeah,” Legend snips, “because the shadow is totally gonna tie us to a chair and demand to know all our secrets.” 

  The conversation in the corner breaks off, Warriors running both hands through his hair in an agitated way while Twilight moves over to join the rest of them. “Maybe not, but the shadow ain’t the only threat out there, vet. You know that.” 

  The point is conceded, and the rest of them move in close, following their rancher’s example and watching as the man settles down into a kitchen chair Four had provided for their use. Twilight is not the one to start though, instead \turning his own attention, and thus the others do as well, towards the captain, who’s looking a little less like his normal self. It takes a moment, but Wind finally decides it’s the mess the man’s hair is in, that and the way all his emotions seem to have been wiped away cleanly as he stalks towards where the rancher is sitting.  

 “Twilight has agreed to show you all how to handle this, meanwhile, as I have the training, I will be instructing.” His breathing is off. “In some cases- most actually, the likelihood of being captured and watched by a large group is rare. Most of you don’t look like a major threat and few of you have a rank worth exploiting by your enemies, so your chances of being captured and tortured are low. The chances of questioning is also low, although possible, but considering how well you all keep your own secrets, I don’t think I have to teach you how to keep your mouths shut.” There’s the slightest quirk of a smile at that, and a few smile back. 

  Wind doesn’t. Wind is too busy watching the way too-steady hands reach out to take the rope Legend is still holding. 

  “I don’t need to teach you all how to watch the enemy, or how to be cautious, sneaky, how to move about without being seen- you know these things already.” The rope snaps in what he knows is a purposeful motion by the soldier to unsettle them, and that, if anything, is assurance that Warriors is still in there, and not entirely overwhelmed. Come to think of it, he may even be purposefully throwing them off with his behavior and appearance in order to better convey what it’s like to be held captive by a stranger. The thought actually makes him start and stare, watching closely. The hand thing can’t be faked, so maybe there’s some truth to the terrifying mask the captain is pulling; cold, harsh, calculating and seeking a reaction, but he genuinely hopes most of it really is just put on. “But how do you escape binds of different kinds? How do you quickly turn the tables to take yourself from prisoner to captor?” A twist of the hands and Warriors has made knot dangerously close to a noose. “Let’s try that, shall we?” 

  At his side, Legend tenses, eyes fixed on the captain as the man wraps the noose quickly around one of Twilight’s wrists, the rancher allowing himself to be manipulated as needed for the time being while Warriors twists and pulls and ties the rope this way and that. It's genuinely impressive, the kinds of knots and the effort put into them, far more than most enemies are likely to bother using, but the man still uses them, calling their attention to the different kinds and showing how some give way with a tug and others tighten, informing them that feeling the sort of knot used can be a huge step in escaping it, as it provides clues on how to manipulate your bindings to your own will. 

  Once the captain is finished, Twilight’s wrists and ankles are both quite effectively restrained, the rancher sitting quietly as he allows the rest of them to look over the bonds and Warriors to explain further about why certain knots are used and which ones to be on the lookout for. They are allowed to touch, encouraged even, to see how the rope feels, because- as the captain instructs them, clipped and cold- the likelihood of being granted sight is very low indeed when held captive. 

  “Everyone got all that?” At their nods, Warriors turns to Twilight. “Go nuts.” 

  Watching Twilight escape is very nearly as interesting as watching him get tied up. The rancher doesn’t explain nearly anything at all, focusing instead on getting out, but Warriors fills the blanks, pointing out that shifting, tugging and rolling your limbs can help loosen most bonds, even if it does tend to tighten the knots. “You don’t want to untie each knot, just get out of them. Most escapes need to be quick so as to actually be able to get out, but some circumstances give you time enough to pick over the knots later if you need the rope for something else. Getting a read on your situation at all times is crucial, but you have to rely on your own judgement much of the time in order to know what skills to employ and what to set aside.” 

  By the time the man is done speaking, Twilight is springing up out of the chair and making a grab at the captain. Almost without breathing, Warriors catches the other in a headlock. It's like watching a snake strike, one moment it looks like Twilight has him, and the next, the rancher is doubled over with their captain’s arms around his neck. 

  “Good try.” 

  Twi grins. “Woudla had’ja if I’d had time to slip my feet free.” 

  “Or if I’d been paying less attention,” the captain smiles, but it’s cold, thin, and very much not like their brother. The man’s hands let loose the other, leaving Twilight free to tug loose his feet while he turns back to the rest of them. “A key point is to watch for opening at all times. If your enemy turns their back or drops their guard, they give you a chance to over-power, injure, or kill them.” It’s said too coldly, too clinically, as though Warriors isn’t even talking about a life at all. He's beginning to see why the man spoke about this sort of training like he did; Warriors will be dumbing it down for them, making it something they can process, but with soldiers, commanders who didn’t give a shit about the innocence of their students, he can only imagine how this sort of thing would have been, especially paired with the knowledge that Warriors had also withstood training for torture and interrogation, so the mental strain would have been far worse then. 

  Honestly, maybe it’s not an act. Maybe Warriors is just used to shutting his emotions off when it comes to issues like this. 

  “Any questions?” 

 “Yeah,” it’s a new voice, one he doesn't know yet, which speaks, and it has all the heroes turning about abruptly at the sound of it, except the captain, who seems unsurprised, unlike them, to see Four’s father standing in the doorway “What on earth is going on here?” 

  As though of one mind, they all turn on the smithy. 

  “Training?” 

  “What kind?” The man leans in the door, one brow raised. He doesn’t look upset, maybe bemused, but Wind still feels Legend draw up stiff beside him. 

  “Escape training, sir,” Warriors clips, stepping forwards to address the man, “your son tells me he hasn't had a chance to undergo such training previously.” 

  “No.” It’s a very loaded word, “he hasn’t.” Guarded, wary, maybe even pained. Wind’s not sure, but he supposes maybe Four’s father doesn’t like the idea of his son undergoing whatever this training entails. 

  The captain doesn’t let the other knight’s tone bother him though. “All due respect sir, he requested that the Hero of Twilight and I instruct him, and the rest, in order that he might have some knowledge of what to do in the case of capture, sir.” Oh, Warriors is falling into soldier mode for real now. Shit. 

  Sir Smith notices too, apparently, face softening some as he looks at the younger soldier. “As ease, captain.” 

  Warriors does not relax in the slightest. 

  “Well,” their smithy’s father turns to look over them and the room in general, “I suppose it’s good knowledge to have, and about time you had it. Is there anything I can do to assist?” 

The offer is accepted eagerly by their smithy, and while Warriors still looks somewhat tense, Wind’s quite sure it’s the nature of the training and not the man offering to help with it. No, the captain and this world’s army commander had got on like a housefire last night, and he knows Warriors likes the man. It’s fine, his brother is just uncomfortable and thus falling into familiar patterns and behaviors in order to not betray that. Given time after, and Warriors will slowly drop those and return to his normal self once he’s ready. He’ll be okay. 

 “Escapin’ is like pretty boy said,” Twilight tells them, standing up again now that he’s free, “it’s a matter of gettin’ the ropes loose enough t’slip out. Amateurs tend to go too loose, an’ they keep it quick an’ easy. ‘pparently soldiers cover all the bases though.” The last part is added with a snort and a light nudge at their captain. 

  Time nods, slowly. “Four minutes and seventeen seconds. Quite impressive, pup.” 

  The words have the rancher beaming. 

  “Right,” Warriors plows ahead, ignoring the moment and looking over each of them. “Legend, you said you’d been trained, how about you show the rest how a smaller individual can handle this?”  

  The vet glares at the implications but doesn’t say anything. It’s fact that most of them aren’t nearly as big as Twilight and, considering few of them possess his brute strength either, having a few examples will probably give them more to work off of in the long run. Still, there’s something wary about the way the vet approaches the chair, hands already fisted as he stands in front of it, rather than deliberately sitting as the rancher had done. 

 “Commander,” Warriors turns over to Four’s father (he’s introduced himself as Leon, right?) and motions to the vet. “I believe you have more experience than I.” 

  The elder soldier nods, in one motion both conveying respect and also submitting himself to the command of the younger soldier for the time being, which Wind thinks is very grand of him considering it’s the older man’s own house they’re in, and his son they’re teaching. Then again though, Four had said that his dad is the sort of person who isn’t afraid to let a younger person take the lead if they know what they’re doing. 

  He wonders how Four knows that to be able to say it so confidently. What on earth does he get up to on his own? 

  A question for later, he guesses. Right now, it’s time to pay attention, because even if he hopes to grow as big as Twilight, Legend and he are pretty close in size now, so this will be more useful for him than watching the rancher. 

  Unlike Twilight, Legend doesn’t go easily, making Leon actually have to fight against him in order to continue. That, apparently, it is good though, as Warriors makes it a teaching point, “Generally speaking,” one large hand catches the vet’s dominant one, “you don’t want to let the enemy tie you down in the first place. Honor is all well and good, but when it comes to surviving, no one’s blaming you for fighting dirty.” Something Legend is notorious for. “Watch how the vet handles this, then we’ll discuss after. Sir Leon-” that is the right name then, great! “-will probably approach it differently than I do as well, so be aware that all captors are not the same.” 

  And the smithy’s father definitely doesn’t handle things the way Warriors did, nor does Legend. Where Twilight had let Warriors shift and move him as needed, Legend fights, and where Warriors had given little vocal cues to his “prisoner” and guided his motions carefully, well aware that a wrong move from the rancher at close proximity could do damage, Leon isn’t nearly as careful, instead grabbing, holding, and forcing the vet’s arms behind his back before slinging a rope around them with all the speed of a sailor in a storm. Also, unlike Warriors, Leon doesn’t use a variety of knots, rather keeping it quick and tight. 

  “He’s got thin wrists, so a tighter bind is needed. Some tie it tight enough to harm, but that’s not the goal here. Know it happens though.” The elder soldier tells them, yanking back on the vet who makes to push away. He doesn’t try to force the vet into the chair, instead catching the younger by the collar while his free hand works, hissing, “stay still, you wriggly thing!” 

  Wind’s not sure what exactly about the situation is wrong, but he swears he hears the vet’s breath catch, stutter, and then with a truly terrific show of strength, Legend rips himself free of the man’s hold, kicking back against the knight and propelling himself forwards hard enough that his collar slips free from the man’s hands and the vet can stumble very quickly away. Rather than stage an “attack” though, the hero just spins about, and the whole room freezes. 

  Legend’s stance is too tightly wound, breath too sharp, too harsh, but most obvious is the utter and complete terror shining in blown out violet eyes.  

  “Shit,” Warriors is moving before any of them have a clue what to do, and all aggression, put on though it was, immediately disappears from Leon’s own stance as both knights recognize what Wind himself has as well. He doesn't know how, and he doesn’t know why, but something about the situation has acted as enough to trigger the vet into some sort of panic, and what to them is a training exercise, has become, to his mind, very, very real. 

  “Lad-” Leon’s motion towards the vet earns a start back, one that is made even worse when Four jumps up from where he’d been watching. Wind can’t imagine why the sight of Four, of all of the people in the room, would make Legend stumble so far back that he falls flat on his ass, but it happens. It happens and none of them, especially the smithy, miss it. 

  “Vet?” They’re all worried, and several of them step forwards, reaching out, ready to help, wanting to help, only for both Hyrule and Wild to grab those closest to them and pull them back, something Wind does himself, catching ahold of the smithy. The last thing the vet needs is people crowding in and leaving him no space to breathe. Being surrounded when you’re vulnerable is bad, very bad, and if watching out for Mask and watching the captain taught him anything, it’s that letting an experienced adult handle it and keeping everyone else away is the best course of action. 

  “Is he-” again, Leon’s voice is cut off, this time though by a strangled sound from the vet. 

  “Leon,” and it’s the first time that the soldier’s voice has dropped titles to use anything else, “leave.” 

  “Excuse me?” Four hisses, but that also seems to have a very negative effect, one that has the captain turning, slowly, voice low and soft but cold enough to freeze.  

 “You too, smithy.” 

  Whatever is about to be said in return is cut off by Leon hefting his son over his shoulder and quickly leaving the room, although both he and Four look after the others even as they exit the door. If the situation were any different, Wind thinks he might have laughed at Four’s easy acceptance of being carried like a potato sack by his father, but right now dealing with the vet takes precedence. Luckily for all at hand, even if Warriors isn’t the most qualified to run a training simulation, there’s no one better at handing panic attacks. 

  Despite being downed, Legend’s still managed to shift enough that the ropes Leon was working to be decently tight have been mostly ripped off, although they’ve left a nasty burn across the hero’s skin, one that’s bleeding slightly in the worst areas along the inside of his wrists. No one stops him freeing himself though, and while the performance is definitely over, there’s also a part of all of them that notes how quickly Legend pulls himself free, the sailor even hears Time whisper a soft “two minutes, fourteen seconds” to himself, slightly awed. 

  “Hey,” Warriors’ voice has lost every amount of edge, ice, or stiffness as he settles down in front of their felled brother, now as full of warmth as if he’s back on the field, talking Mask out of his own head after the younger hero’s namesake was put away again. “You with me?” 

  Ragged breathing would indicate that no, Legend is not. He’s very much not, just staring after the door where Four and his father had disappeared, eyes still wide and breath too shallow. 

  The captain reaches out; slow, deliberate motions, easy to track as he reaches for the other hero. “You’re okay, alright? You’re safe. We were training, but it’s over. There is no threat here.” 

  The vet flinches away from the hand, inches from his arm, back slamming against a cabinet and making whatever’s inside clatter loudly, which just sees to further unsettled the shaken hero, who jumps at the sound, whipping his head around to look back, only to flick unseeing eyes back towards the captain. 

  Warriors doesn’t so much as falter, using his lifted hand to slowly push shaggy hair out of where it’d been over his eyes for the last while, messy and just slightly wavy at the ends, like he’s not had time to straighten it in a while. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Warriors, you in there, Link?” 

  Violet eyes flicker across the older man’s face, and this time, when Warriors reaches out, Legend doesn’t start away again, although he watches the hand reaching for him like it’ll produce a knife at any second. Luckily for all, the captain’s not capable of that sort of a trick, and all his hand does is catch one of Legend’s own, not by the wrist as Leon had done, but gently catching fingers in his own and guiding them towards himself, pulling the vet’s hand to settle over his chest, eyes locking with the other’s as he breathes a long, purposeful, breath. 

 Just like Mask used to, Legend mimics the action, although his own breath catches some. It doesn’t stop the captain from trying again though, and slowly, steadily, Legend’s breathing evens out again, clarity returning to his eyes like stars coming out at dusk. 

  “There you are,” their brother breathes, soft and warm and gentle and everything that eases tension and doesn’t spark it further, “keep breathing, you’re okay.” 

 Just because he says it though, doesn't mean it works, because the next breath that escapes their brother sounds more like a strangled sob. 

  Warriors doesn’t so much as falter. “You’re okay. It’s alright,” the hand that lifts is flinched back from, so the captain drops it again, resting it only over the hand still pressed to his own chest. “Keep breathing- there we go. You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

 The dart of dark eyes to the door betrays that Legend doesn’t believe him for a moment, but the vet shudders only a bit, focusing on Warriors again as he pulls away from the cabinets, although not so much to be closer to the captain as to not longer be shrinking away. It’s a sign of some recognition though, which is far better than nothing, and apparently a cue for the soldier to find out what is going on. 

  “That escalated a bit quick, wanna tell me what went wrong?” 

  Legend opens his mouth to answer, but a hitching breath is all that comes out, face twisting and screwing up again enough to warn that a repeat is very much in the cards. 

  Warriors counters quickly. “Was it the ropes? Too tight? Too many people?” He keeps the questions far enough apart to give time for a signal one way or another, but Legend doesn't do much more than force shaking breathes out as his hands reach to tangle in his wild hair. His hat fell off in the scuffle, and currently lies at Time’s feet. “Was Leon too-” 

  The strangled sound at the man’s name cuts Warriors off, and recognition shines in blue eyes. 

  “Leon.” Warriors repeats. 

  Legend’s eyes squeeze closed; face pinched up and shattered. 

  The soldier sighs. “Can I touch you?” 

  “No.” The fact that it’s verbalized is a huge step, and Wind sighs a breath of relief. 

  Warriors, likewise, accepts the boundary, shifting back a bit to grant their vet more space, but not so much as to seem like he’s leaving. “Okay, this is related to Leon. Was it how he handled you?” 

  Nothing. 

  “Was it something one of us said?” 

  A hitch in the vet’s breath, the captain opens his mouth to try again, to press, but Legend answers aloud again this time, voice a wreck. “I- he-” a desperate gasp for air as ringed fingers tug at messy hair, “he’s sounds-”  

  No doubt recognizing Mask’s same struggle with words in the other, Warriors offers his own, soft and quiet, but not yet a whisper. “Did he sound like someone you know?” 

  A nod. A fervent, desperate, nod as violet eyes squeeze shut again. “Sorry...” 

  Hearing the vet apologize has never sounded like such an awful thing. He hates it. 

  The captain clearly does too, but he says nothing to that effect, although the brief flick of his ears and flash of his eyes says it for him. “It’s not your fault. It happens to the best of us.” 

 A scoff. Yeah, Legend’s still in there. 

  Warriors presses on. “No really, it does. It sucks, but it happens.” 

  Dark eyes peek open, fixing on the captain. 

  “Yes, even with me.” The smile there is pained, strained, but real, despite all, and the flick down of the vet’s eyes to still outheld hands prompts the captain to reach out once more. “Would you like me to touch now?”  

 There’s a pause, nothing said, and nothing done, just a stillness as Legend considers the offer. He’s wary about touch even on good days, but usually only when it’s expressly offered or pointed out. When no one says anything, it’s usually met with acceptance as long as it’s not demeaning in any way.  

  As though catching onto a similar train of thought, Warriors changes his offer. “I could lend you my scarf?” 

  A glare. Okay, rude, it’s not that demeaning! Wind likes the scarf! Mask adored the scarf! Enough to throw fits when it wasn't his turn with it! Legend doesn’t have to want it, but there’s no need to make faces like that! It earns a laugh from their captain though, eyes creasing the way they rarely do, and only when he really means it, hand falling to rest gently on the foot of the other. Legend doesn’t shake him off, just stares, then lifts his gaze back up to search the captain’s face again. 

  Warriors meets it, smile fading back to the sad one again. 

 The vet’s gaze drops, arms falling to wrap around himself rather than digging his fingers into his scalp. “He looks-” a breath, harsh and strained, angry as it whishes between clenched teeth, brows drawing low with inward turned frustration, “the- our-” 

  “He looks like someone you know?” At yet another, hesitant, nod, Warriors presses further. “Someone who hurt you? Maybe someone you used to trust?” 

  A sigh. A slow nod before the vet’s head drops to rest against his raised knees. He's still shaking. 

  It’s clear as day that Warriors wants nothing more than to wrap an arm around their brother, pull hm close and assure, but he doesn’t. No, the captain respects the established boundary and doesn’t move any closer, hand just resting on one ankle as he crouches in front of their brother. “I get that.” his voice is softer now, bittersweet, “it sucks, I know. There's someone you trust and then you can’t trust them anymore, and it’s hard, especially when you meet someone who reminds you of them.” 

  Shit. Wind knows he shouldn’t, knows both he and Time know better, but neither can help it as they turn their focus on the captain, wary and watching. That is never a good subject to talk about, but the fact that Warriors is the one broaching it for the first time in forever is frankly shocking. 

  “You too?” Legend’s trying to pass off a tired smile of his own, but it just looks like he’s trying not to cry. 

 The captain nods, lifting his hand (definitely noticing how Legend’s breath catches at the loss of contact) and instead turning to lean his own back against the china cabinet, settling in beside their shaken brother, eyes falling closed in what’s both an open sign of trust, but also an obvious bid to ignore the sharp stares of both his boys on him. “Yeah, me too. It sucks, doesn’t it?” 

 “Sounds just like him,” Legend says, the first full sentence since he’d gone down, and Wind doesn't miss the way the other hero leans a bit closer into the captain’s space, although he doesn't touch him. “Looks like ‘im too.” 

  Blue eyes open again, turning past all their curious and worried ones to watch the vet, warm and gentle, that same look that he’d turn on Mask, and Wind doesn't doubt it was turned on him too, when Warriors thought they weren't looking. 

  The vet shudders, steeling himself up again, walls visibly reconstructing before their eyes. “He used to visit, when I was small. I saw him like a grandfather-” and they crumble again, the vet blinking violently, voice small. “He has granddaughters my age.” 

  “What happened?” Wind doesn’t mean to let the words slip, but they do. 

  Legend’s head hits the cabinet doors. “Corrupted.” 

 The captain nods. He knows. Wind knows that he knows. “I’m sorry.” 

  “He sounded just like him.” 

  “I know,” it’s a hysterical sort of laughter that escapes the older hero this time, “trust me, I get it. Every time I hear an Ordon accent, any time someone suggests playing chess,” the captain’s eyes roll upwards, and Wind’s kind of shocked when he realizes there’s tears there. “It sucks. Gods it sucks, but you live with it. I wish I could say it gets better, but I’m not there yet.” 

  Pink hair drops, settling against faintly shaking shoulders. “You were close?” 

Suddenly the moment before them feels too private to witness anymore. Suddenly, being there feels wrong, hearing Legend ask things that everyone at home in Warriors’ world knows better than to speak of. He doesn't know why Warriors answers, maybe out of guilt for pulling the vet into the exercise, maybe out of a need to set an example or assure, maybe out of his own sort of desperation, but an answer is given. 

  “Yeah. Grew up together. He teased me for my accent, I teased him for his. We ran our mothers to worry and our commanders to madness. I hauled his ass out of prison, he watched mine on the field. Heck,” a smile, bittersweet as the captain settles a cheek in rosy hair, “we went through our trailing- kinda like what I was trying to show the others- we did that together too.” A soft scoff, not a sob, but close, “I think he’s the only reason I made it through training t’all. Would’ve gone mad wit’out ‘im.” 

  “What happened?” Twilight dares speak up, and Wind doesn’t miss the way the man’s thick accent is held in check, nearly gone altogether. So, Twi did hear the comment about Ordon. 

  The captain sighs, lifting his head and staring out at the rest of them, eyes fixing on the rancher last of all. “Ganon. As with most things.” 

  Twilight winces. 

  Warriors chuckles. “Some days it’s like he never left though. He’s still on my ass, still callin’ me ‘pretty boy and tryin’ to get a rise outta me.” Wind doesn’t miss how Twilight’s face crumbles when he realizes blue eyes are still fixed on his. The captain doesn’t either, smile twitching alive again. “It’s nice, sometimes, like seeing what he’d be like if nothing happened. Other days, it’s difficult, and it makes it hard to get through the day.” 

  “How do you handle us?” Legend breathes, half scoff and half awe, eyes trying for a smile again and doing much better. It’s not happy, but it’s kind. 

  The captain doesn’t miss it. “Hylia only knows,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against the one still pressed against it, and then, more serious, “I draw back if I need. Sure, Twilight reminds me of him a lot, some days, but then he does something Gassun would never, or does something so stupid only a hero would do it, and then I remember again and I’m fine.” 

 “Really?” The Stare of Disappointment was definitely something Time learned from the captain, so Wind can’t fathom why the man tries to use it on their brother, but here he is, doing just that. “You expect us to believe that?” 

  “Have faith in me,” Warriors snorts, “I don’t wander around in my own head all day. If I did, you’d’ve burned the world down already!” 

  It sort of ends like that. Warriors redirecting their attention and Legend rolling his eyes at their antics, slowly uncurling again until Four’s mother comes back inside and requests access to her kitchen again. They scatter after, Warriors throwing an arm around the vet and guiding him upstairs so they can have a talk, Time going off in search of the smithy and his father, Wild joining in dinner preparations, and the rest of them cleaning up their mess before leaving. 

 Hyrule still has questions for Twilight about escaping, but Sky heads upstairs after the others, worry creasing his brow in ways it rarely does, but Wind stays behind, scooping up Tongs to keep him company in the wake of his brothers all leaving. Even so, he makes a note to ask the others how they are later. 

  Of course, later, Twilight also asks about what Warriors said, and the captain, to the shock of both his charges, explains himself. Thinking back, it’s no wonder Warriors sees a resemblance; Twilight may have spent his last few years in Ordon, but the military haircut is still very present, a mirror of the captain's own and quite similar to said captain's old friend. Granted, Twilight is darker, hair redder and eyes bright blue, but the accent is the same, rough manner so similar, and the nicknames definitely finish the picture. He doesn’t like the implications of that, not for either of the two, but Twilight walks out of the conversation only looking someone thoughtful, rather than upset, and Warriors seems normal enough, although still quiet for the rest of their time in the smithy’s Hyrule. 

 Collectively, they agree to abandon the escape training. If they want tips, they’ll go to Twilight, but the emotional toll taken on both the vet and the captain isn’t worth it to any of them. Not a second time. Not when they all regret the first one. 

[bvttoneyes]

"Oh and You!" ~ Ethan Morgan x Reader

sum! Glue song by beabadoobee, also just cutesy moments with your boyfriend Ethan. (different moments/days)

tw! super fluff in gonna cry

this is so cute, also did yall know i do these a/n's before the fic lolzzz

"I've never known someone like you, ooh. Tangled in love, stuck by you, from the glue."

You and Ethan recently started dating and oh my goodness is this boy the most perfect amazing person boyfriend ever, and my golly he is whipped. He is so so sweet and treats you so so good. Not only that but he just loves you so much. Probably more than you love him.

Nonetheless, even though its been less than 6 months it is still the most perfect relationship and perfect boyfriend ever!

You were walking up to him and his friends at lunch. You sat next to him and he looked at you with those sweet eyes full of adoration and love. God, he loved you so much.

But much like every relationship there were flaws. He would forget to do some things that you had gotten used to, seeing as how this is his first relationship. He doesn't do it on purpose he's just not used to having say 'love you bye!' whenever one specific person is in the same room as him and he's leaving. He mostly gets in trouble over the phone for that though.

The bell rang, signalling that they're lunch was over and they were to head back to class. Leaving you alone.

Ethan was about to just leave. No kiss, no hug, no 'love you bye'.

"Uh, Ethan!" you grab his attention with your somewhat snarky yell.

He looks confused, scanning where he was sitting to see if he had dropped something, "hm?"

"Don't forget to kiss me!" you couldn't hold back your smile as his face came to the realisation.

You then changed to a more smug look when continuing on, "or else you'll have to miss me..."

He smiled and gave you a small but sweet peck on the lips before leaving the cafeteria.

"I guess I'm stuck forever by the glue, oh and you!"

Later that day you were in class together and there was a... pretty girl sitting next to him. She was new to school and needed a tour. She was asking Ethan, before you could interrupt he responded with, "Yeah, me and my girlfriend can show you around."

She immediately shut down the offer and he refused to take her without you. 20 minutes later while the teacher was in the middle of a lecture there was a paper ball wadded up that had hit your shoulder and was now on the floor. You open it up to see in green ink, 'Im stuck by you'

"Finding the right words to use for this song. I have you in mind, so it won't take so long!"

Ethan met you outside of your English class, one of the classes you don't have together. The assignment was, write a poem. About anything, horses, eggs, boyfriend, mom, dad, cat- wait boyfriend?

So you wrote a poem for him, you grabbed the paper out of your bag and read it to him. (im not good with poems you cant make me write one.)

"Never thought I'd find you, but you're here, and so I love you! I'm not wrong when I say,"

It wasn't unknown that Ethan was unpopular. It also was common knowledge that he got bullied. Usually it didn't bug him, but today it did. He walked home by himself. Shut himself out all day. Was consistently zoning out.

You went to the store, bought his favorite stuff and went to his house. You even got him some chocolate and flowers, because how often do guys get those when they feel bad. He immediately let you in when he found out who it was, he just wanted cuddles and you to rub his head. Then he saw you with matching star wars pajamas, chocolate, his favorite food, and flowers. As well as a scarf from his hogwarts house.

He gave you the biggest hug. He didn't ever think he would date you, or even end up knowing you! But you are. And you show up when he's upset, and so he loves you.

"hey, I've been stuck onto you. Like glue." He said peacefully. And while he was acting like you and him were stuck together, you knew he meant metaphorically. And he knew you would understood that.

"I've been stuck by glue. Right onto you!"

"I've been stuck by glue."

"I've never known..."

"I've never known someone like you"

"I've never known..."

Ethan whispered, "I've never known someone like you."

[eriexplosion]

Pushing through one last one tonight to get through Truth and Consequences.

Omega having learned meditation from Gungi is so wholesome actually. Also Gonky's gentle honking as he walks back and forth.

I love this moment between Omega and Echo and honestly I wish we got more of them. Echo saying why they joined, how this was where they fit and where they were needed. I'm such a fucking sap that I need wherever the batch ends up to still be where Echo fits, I just want everyone to be together and happy my god.

I love the camera angle of Riyo looking at everyone and then sharply down to see Omega. "Hello!!!"

There's something I want you to see and it's the dead clone. Omega looked so excited up until that exact moment.

Oh golly gee I'm so glad we get to see something neat and cool hope it's not a goddamn corpse.

Honestly Omega has amazing faces this episode. Her UTTER DISGUST at Rampart in the senate halls for example.

"Which one belongs to the clones?" OMEGA GETS TO LEARN ABOUT STRUCTURAL INEQUALITY TODAY.

HALLE BURTONI! I'm excited to meet her again, she's absolutely the worst person alive but I enjoy her.

She literally just went WELP PLANET'S GONE GUESS I DON'T HAVE TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT IT ANYMORE. WHAT A RELIEF.

Omega literally cares more about Kamino than Burtoni does. And she deserves to be angry more honestly, she gets jerked around a lot (including in this episode - the way they DON'T TELL HER ECHO IS GOING TO LEAVE UNTIL IT HAPPENS)

"Help's hard to come by these days" and Echo clearly makes their decision right there. It's the way that they didn't come here expecting to split from the batch but they hear that they're Needed and have such a hard time staying away at that point, especially when it's coming from Rex.

"He's still not better with heights?" Rex sounds so sympathetic like oh he knows u were working on that is it not coming along?

TEEEEECH?

Tech and Echo both plugging in at the same time, pictures of teamwork.

Plan 14, 5, AND 86. Just start stringing plans together like it's math class.

NOTHING SAYS FUCKING COVERT MISSION LIKE WHAT THEY'RE DOING WITH THIS SHIP.

It's fucking stealth you see.

"I was off by 6.4 meters. Not my best :/" I love him

I will say that this was a great midseason twist that they absolutely fucking won they completed the mission perfectly they got the evidence and aired it in front of everyone and Palpatine came in and in two seconds he twisted it around to serve what he wanted. Like, that's some GOOD SHIT.

Why does his pod have fucking tornado sirens tho

God no wonder Echo feels like they HAVE to keep getting clones out, they feel like it's partially their fault that the legislation got through.

Also the way that they've clearly talked about this and didn't tell Omega is just. Still so much. I'm still thinking about "remember what I said" from Hunter, what does it refer to, is it from all the way back in the TCW arc or did he say something offscreen that we won't find out until it's significant?

"It's not forever. I'll be back." AND THE HUG. THE HUGGGGGG. MY HEART IS SOFT AND SENTIMENTAL I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER.

THE FINAL SHOT OF THE SHIP LOOKING SO MUCH LIKE LEAVING CROSSHAIR BEHIND ON KAMINO. AND THEN OMEGA INSIDE. THANKS DIDN'T NEED MY HEART.

[sodiumlamp]

Lower Decks

I'm not gonna liveblog Lower Decks because I only liveblogged Picard to maintain my sanity as I endured it. It was more of a defense mechanism than a plan. The only reason I bring up LD is because I wanted to end the Picard thing on a more positive note. Lower Decks is a much better show, and I dare say watching Picard first made me enjoy the experience even more.

It's a comedic take on Star Trek, and the show could be forgiven for playing fast and loose with the premise, but it doesn't. Lower Decks feels like a very authentic Star Trek expereince, but it just has a comedic flavor to it.

It also does a whole lot of callbacks to old Star Trek lore. The difference is that LD isn't depending on the viewer to get all the callbacks. If you don't notice or recognize Spock Two's skeleton hanging in that display room on the collector's ship, it doesn't matter, because the plot doesn't hinge on it. LD also doesn't pull the Picard trick of making callbacks as an end unto itself, like Adam Soong holding a folder entitled "PROJECT KHAN" and nothing happens. Lower Decks has some running subplots, but it's very clear to its audience about which moments are clues and which moments are fun easter eggs.

Most critically, Lower Decks maintains the optimism of the classic 20th Century Star Trek shows. You watch an episode, and things usually work out by the end of it. More importantly, when people lose faith in the world they live in, there's some moment where that faith is restored. Starfleet stands for something and it's not just empty slogans or cynical public relations. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel and the characters generally find it. Except for Peanut Hamper. Fuck you, Peanut Hamper.

The fundamental conflict in the show is that these are all good people who strive to be better, to do better, and they tend to get in each other's way as they try to improve. Mariner defies her superiors because they doesn't always know best, but sometimes her superiors do know best. Boimler (and other characters) crave promotion and recognition, but he sometimes has to take a step back and consider why he wants those things. There's an episode where he joins a group of ambitious ensigns and they practice making inspiring leadership speeches, but he eventually realizes that it's a skill he can't use in the here and now. "We have to inspire the crew!" "We are the crew!"

The show demonstrates just how badly Picard fumbled the ball with its "everything sucks now" philosophy. In theory, you can do a utopia-gone-wrong story with Star Trek, but there needs to be a clear understanding of what went wrong and how it gets fixed. You can't just make a Star Trek story that flat out repudiates the optimistic future. You can just have the characters say "Whoops, that never worked!" That'd be like Batman deciding that crime is actually pretty cool. Shows like Picard try to convince the audience that the only way to tell a story is to break everything and make it miserable. Lower Decks proves that's a lie told by lazy showrunners who only know how to pull one lever.

Part of the problem, I think, is that these studios keep trying to do big events, relying on spectacle over storytelling. That's why Picard Season 2 had to climax with Picard's mother hanging herself. It has to be this big provocative moment, regardless of whether it makes sense or fits the characters. Picard has prophetic dreams of Data, the exploding girl looks just like the one from the old painting, it was the Borg the whole time, and by golly there sure are a lot of decapitations in this show.

By contrast, one of the most powerful moments on Lower Decks is when Captain Freeman finally gets fed up with Mariner and has her transferred to Starbase 80. It's not a big, apocalyptic moment that will Change The Marvel Universe Forever™, but it's effective, because the show took the time to establish that Starbase 80 is the worst assignment in Starfleet, and it's the one punishment Mariner takes seriously, and Freeman must be really upset if she's decided to take it that far. And then later, she regrets her decision, and when things work out in the end, their reconciliation is that much more satisfying. It just works. Not everything has to be a swordfight in a Borg Cube, for crying out loud.

I haven't watched Season 4 yet, but I'm really looking forward to seeing the new Vulcan character, T'Lyn on the show. Now we have two blueshirts in the cast. And they're not doctors or nurses! Nothing against doctors or nurses, but there's a severe lack of science division characters in Star Trek, and that screenshot of two of them doing something involving hydrogen samples is more exciting than a hundred Jack Crushers. I hope they do a whole episode about hydrogen samples. That would kick ass.

[kindheart525]

Snowcone sat next to her Nana and drew circles on the table with her hooves, her lips rolled in like she was trying to hide inside herself. She had no clue what to say. Was there something she was...supposed to say? She knew this was an important moment but what if she got it wrong? 

Finally she broke the silence, her words trailing off into a slight chuckle. 

"Did I make a good first impression Nana?"

Reuniting with her daughter and meeting her granddaughter was the highlight of Raz’s week...well, the highlight of the last several decades...so she didn’t even hesitate as she took Snowy’s face in her hooves and squished her cheeks affectionately.

“Oh dearie, you made a perfect first impression. I don’t want you thinking for a second that you didn’t!”

Snowy couldn’t keep that sour look on her face when her Nana held her, the squishing of her cheeks making her feel a level of warmth she couldn’t quite place her hoof on. 

She leaned into the holding but couldn’t quite bring herself to make eye contact. The good feeling faded away too quickly and was replaced by a sense of restlessness. She pulled away from Raz and stared. 

"So is this all you do all day? How do you stand it? I can barely keep my cool through a five-minute lecture from Mom."

Oh Gaia, could Raz relate. 

The filly’s restless demeanor reminded her so much of herself when she was young. Even now she couldn’t stand lectures from the ward staff, even though lectures weren’t the worst she had to deal with. But she understood. Snowy was just like her, that filly. A kindred spirit.

“Who says I do stand it?”

She chuckled, choosing to explain a horrible situation with humor.

“You know I’d rather be dead!”

She quickly lowered her voice mid-sentence once she realized what she just let slip, looking around to make sure none of the ward staff overheard her. Then she looked back to her granddaughter with a smirk.

“Your grandpa better be burning for this, I’ll tell you that!”

As something shifted in Raz, it shifted in Snow as well. She began to fidget in her seat, sitting up straight. She raised her brow in excitement. Any other grandkid would have been incredibly concerned but Snow…

Snowcone giggled. 

She too looked around before leaning in close, barely able to get out of her choke because she was snickering so hard. Snow wasn’t aware of the full story but she could put two and two together.

"G-grandpa’s grave is..SHCDHGSG...is a gender n-neutral bathroom!”

As soon as she got it out she melted into laughter, slamming her hoof on the table. 

Things weren’t going to be fun and games forever though. Raz had seen the path she had gone on and with Snowcone’s much more fiery personality things could go a lot lot worse for her.

“Hush hush! They’ll hear—“

But Raz was choking on her own laughter too, her grandbaby’s laughter was so contagious that she couldn’t help it. She loved having somepony who got her, somepony she could laugh with.

But as she composed herself, she became more serious.

“You’re a smart filly, alright? You better find a good pony, somepony who truly loves you and isn’t going to leave you. I hope my Fizzy treats you better than your old Nana’s folks did.”

She smiled warmly, feeling a new wave of emotion coming on but trying not to show it.

“‘Cause good golly, you deserve to be loved!”

Snowcone internally groaned as she realized what she had started. Oh, she thought her Nana was going to be different from other adults. She tried to keep the same demeanor on the outside though. She wasn't a complete jerk after all.

"No no!"

She straightened up as her mother was mentioned, waving her hooves to signal that Raz had gotten it all wrong.

"Mom is wonderful, so is Mother. They love me, they're just kinda bad at handling-"

Snow’s face went hot and flushed. She sank into her seat and averted eye contact at all costs, fidgeting as she spoke.

"-my issues."

Raz was quick to pick up on how uncomfortable Snowcone was and her heart sank, realizing that she was the one who triggered that reaction. She wanted so badly to make a good first impression too, so the fear that she wouldn’t put her in physical pain. 

So she sat next to her, wracking her brain for a better way to connect.

“Well nopony’s perfect, even the ones who love us won’t always get it right. Nopony really gets it except us, the ones who’ve been through it all.”

Then she decided to be honest.

“It’s been so long that I...I don’t know what things are like nowadays. I don’t know what kind of mother Fizzy is, what kind of mare she is, all she’s been through. I don’t know a lick of what you’ve gone through either. I can only imagine.”

Raz looked up at her granddaughter, scooching closer ever so slightly.

“I’m a clueless old prune. But I want to be there for you, I want to help you any way that I can. Just say the word and Nana will do whatever you want her to...

She trailed off, fearing she was getting too cocky.

“...if you want her to.”

Both mares were going from attracting to repelling magnets every few seconds, their emotions already weaving into a very complex relationship. 

But neither of them was going to let this end any way but positively, even if getting there was somewhat awkward. 

Snow had heard the “nopony’s perfect” shtick a thousand times before and it never made anything better. She was perfectly aware that everyone was gonna fail her and she had to suck it up. 

It wasn't doing Raz any favors until she chose to tell her the truth, immediately piquing Snowcone’s interest. 

Honesty begets honesty. 

"Lady, I've lived out here all my life and I don't even know what things are like!"

Snowy tried to be quiet about it but couldn't help but laugh as she said this, half because it was funny and half out of disbelief.

She opened her mouth again to speak but shut up rather quickly. 

When Raz was done she let out a deep sigh and leaned into her grandmare’s arms. Snow decided that the best plan of action was to show her that she was there.

And that Raz wasn't going anywhere either.

This was what Raz missed. Connection. She had made the odd friend during her years in the ward but this was different, this was her own flesh and blood. She had so much catching up to do, so much to learn and relearn about her family, both new and old. And this moment with her granddaughter was a great start.

She never wanted this moment to end. But she knew it would.

“When you go home you make sure to stay in touch, alright? I want to hear all about what it’s like out there even if it doesn’t make a bit of sense. Nana wants letters!”

“There will be no need for letters.”

Both grandmare and granddaughter looked up at the sound of the voice, noticing Tempest approaching them with a smile on her face.

“I should have done this long ago, Mom. You shouldn’t have to spend another day in here. You’re not going to spend another day in here. I’m not going to leave you again.”

Raz’s chest swelled up as her daughter spoke, was she hearing this right? She looked from her granddaughter to her daughter as it quickly sank in. 

Snowcone got it right away too as she buried her head in her hooves and started sobbing. They both knew just how much this meant, just how long it had been coming, and the news was overwhelming in the best way.

“O-oh my gosh Nana, this means...”

Tears sprung to Raz’s own eyes as she embraced her granddaughter comfortingly, looking over to her granddaughter.

“Is it true, Fizzy? Am I really...?”

Tempest nodded, emotion in her own voice as she spoke.

“Yes, Mom. You’re coming home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Her Side Next: Follies

[jmbringitonworld]

A Good Father II

AO3 link for people who prefer to read fics there

This is the follow-up to my fic A Good Father.

I know it's been forever since I posted the first chapter, but life has been... difficult since then. I've already talked about it before on my blog, but to sum it up, my father's cancer got worse. And worse. And worse. He finally passed away a year ago, right in front of my mother and I. So, as you might understand, I've not been feeling up to writing for a long time. I've especially been unable to write daddy-daughter fluff.

But this story has remained in my mind! I never forgot it or lost my desire to continue it. After a couple of nice comments, and some encouragement from a friend, I finally managed to claw together enough motivation to write the next chapter. So thank you!

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I'm very sorry that it's taken me this long to get it out.

_________________________________________

The shrill cry of a baby pierced through the air and tore Asgore from his slumber. Blearily, the King of Monsters forced his eyes open. Impenetrable darkness greeted him. He groaned and closed his eyes once more.

With a deep yawn, he slipped out from beneath his soft, warm blankets. And promptly failed to catch his footing. He tumbled to the floor in a messy heap, accidentally snagging his covers as he went and dragging them down with him.

Frisk continued to cry.

It was with some difficulty, and no amount of grace, that Asgore disentangled himself from his sheets and stumbled to his feet. He gave his head a shake in an attempt to dispel his lingering drowsiness, and rubbed at his tired eyes.

With plodding steps, he made his way to the baby’s cot.

“There, there, my child,” he mumbled, suppressing another yawn and reaching into the cot. “Come here. I’ve got you, Frisk. Daddy’s here, don’t cry.”

With gentle hands, he picked up his daughter and cradled her to his chest, right by his Soul. Immediately, his Soul started pulsing with soothing magic, in an instinctive attempt to pacify his child. Frisk, being human and thus not naturally attuned to magic, did not respond as favourably as a monster child would have.

Nevertheless, she’d been surrounded by Asgore’s magic since birth and had therefore come to draw comfort from the familiar feeling of being enveloped by it. That, combined with her father’s safe and loving hold, calmed her down enough to reduce her loud wailing to upset sniffles and muted whining.

“Good girl.” Asgore leaned down to gently nuzzle Frisk’s head. The baby’s hair tickled his nose. He resisted the urge to sneeze. “Daddy will have your food ready in no time.”

With practised ease, Asgore managed to prepare a bottle of human baby formula with one hand, while the other continued to cradle Frisk to his Soul. He then carefully warmed the bottle up in his hand with controlled use of fire magic. When he was confident the milk was at the right temperature, he brought the bottle towards his hungry baby.

He paused. Doubt crept in.

Just to be absolutely sure, he let a few drops of milk fall onto the tip of his nose, the part of his body least covered by fur.

He sneezed.

Definitely the perfect temperature.

Satisfied, he once more brought the bottle to Frisk’s mouth. The baby eagerly latched onto the teat and started guzzling down milk, happy to finally be able to sate her hunger.

Asgore hummed, eyes soft and Soul fuzzy as he gazed at his child. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long. He still hadn’t gotten used to it yet. He doubted he ever would.

After Frisk had filled her belly, Asgore carefully burped her (“golly, human babies are very strange”), then changed her nappy (“so very strange… and smelly”).

Sated, clean and warm, Frisk let out a contented yawn and drifted off to sleep.

Asgore held his baby for a moment longer, savouring her presence - the precious weight in his arms, the comforting warmth seeping into his fur, into his Soul - before gently, reluctantly, placing her on a bundle of plush blankets and pillows on the floor of his living room.

He lingered beside Frisk a bit longer, his eyes glued to the rise and fall of her tiny chest. A quick Check showed that her vibrant red Soul was as strong as ever.

With great effort, the King of Monsters tore his eyes away from his sleeping child, and made his way to his bedroom, to get ready for the day.

Once done, he peeked his head into the living room to check on Frisk - still alive, still happy and healthy and sleeping peacefully - and then trotted towards his front door. He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of an empty courtyard. Confused, he stepped outside and looked around.

Still no one.

Frowning, he retreated back into his house and closed the door.

“Hmmm.” He scratched his head, eyes going to the clock on the wall. “Did I get the time wrong?”

Just then, he heard a knock on the door.

Opening it, he was greeted by three very familiar skeleton monsters.

“FOOFFY!!” The smallest skeleton let out an excited squeal and wriggled in his father’s arms, reaching towards the large, furry goat monster with grabby hands.

W.D. Gaster gave an exasperated huff and tightened his grip on his squirming son. “CALM DOWN, PAPYRUS. KING ASGORE IS THE RULER OF MONSTERS, NOT A STUFFED TOY. BEHAVE YOURSELF.”

Asgore chuckled, reaching a hand to pat the toddler on his skull. “Now, now. I don’t mind. If it will make him happy, I will gladly act the part of a teddy goat! Hahaha!”

Papyrus grabbed the large hand petting him and wrapped his arms tightly around it in a big hug. “FOOFFY!! TEDDY!!” He looked down to the third skeleton monster in their group, who was quietly observing the events from the safety of their father’s tall legs and long coat. “SNAS! ‘OOK! FOOFFY TEDDY GOAT!!”

Sans grinned at his younger brother. “yup, sure is, baby bro. very fluffy.”

The Royal Scientist sighed. He shook his skull, before a smile crept onto his face. “GREETINGS, ASGORE. I APOLOGISE FOR OUR DELAY. LITTLE PAPYRUS MADE QUITE THE MESS WITH HIS OATMEAL THIS MORNING.”

Asgore chuckled and waved off his friend’s apologies. “Oh gee, it’s no bother, Wing Dings. I know how much of a handful kids can be! And your youngest is quite the spirited little fellow, as usual. Howdy!”

He wriggled the hand still trapped in the monster toddler’s hold, tickling Papyrus and causing him to let out a peal of laughter. The child flailed his arms with the force of his mirth, releasing his prisoner. Asgore wasted no time in retrieving his hand, using his newly-freed limb to gesture his guests into his home.

“Come in, come in, folks,” he stepped aside to let the skeleton family inside, “Frisk is in the living room. Would you like a cup of tea, Wing Dings?”

“OH!” The doctor blinked at the question. “YES, PLEASE, ASGORE.”

The monster king smiled at his friend and ushered them all into the living room, before departing to prepare a pot of Golden Flower tea.

Frisk was still fast asleep, as the skeleton trio approached her.

Papyrus stilled for a moment as he eyed the new and mysterious figure on the ground. It wasn’t long before his curiosity got the better of him, and he squirmed in his father’s hold, demanding to be put down.

Dr. Gaster cautiously did so, with a stern, “BE VERY, VERY CAREFUL PAPYRUS. DO NOT DISTURB THE BABY.”

Under his father’s watchful eye socket, Papyrus toddled towards the dozing baby and squatted down beside her.

He tilted his skull to one side, then the other, frowning down at the human as if trying to figure her out.

With surprising gentleness, he reached out a finger and lightly poked Frisk’s cheek. His eye sockets widened at the plush give of the baby’s cheek.

“SKISHY!” he squealed, awe filling his expression. He grinned widely and looked towards his father and older brother. “IT SKISHY!”

Wing Dings smiled at his youngest son, fondness lighting up his eye sockets. He approached the pair with quiet steps, and knelt down beside them. His hand hovered in the air, prepared to intervene in case Papyrus got too rough in his excitement.

“I KNOW. HUMANS ARE INDEED SQUISHY. ESPECIALLY COMPARED TO SKELETONS.”

He reached down towards the baby. He hesitated for a second, then stroked a finger down the human’s other cheek. Frisk shifted a bit at the sensation, then settled down again. Her mouth stretched into a gummy smile, before smoothing back out as she went back to snoring softly.

The eldest Gaster’s face softened, the edges of his mouth curving into a smile. He looked at his youngest son, then his oldest. “THIS IS KING ASGORE’S NEW DAUGHTER. I TOLD YOU TWO ABOUT HER. HER NAME IS FRISK.”

Papyrus blinked at his father, taking in this new information. He looked back down at this ‘Frisk’ creature, brows furrowing in consideration. After a moment, he seemed to have come to a conclusion about her.

“HE-’O FISH,” he addressed the human and gave her a wave with his gloved hand. “WANNA BE FENDS?!”

Frisk yawned, limbs twitching in her sleep.

Papyrus took this as a sign of agreement.

“NYEH HEH HEH!!” He laughed excitedly, eye sockets lighting up with delight. He then called to his brother. “‘OOK SNAS!” He gestured to the human, “I MADE A FEND!”

Sans gave him an uncertain grin in return.

Unlike his father and brother, the elder of the Gaster children hung back, casting a wary eye socket on the snoozing human.

He’d heard a lot about humans, and knew that they could be dangerous. Very dangerous, as the last fallen human had proven. This one might have been even smaller than his little brother, but who knew what she might be capable of if given the chance. Who knew what kind of monster she might grow up to be.

For his family, for his precious baby bro, he would remain vigilant.

Just then, he felt a large, furry hand press against his back.

He looked up and was met by Asgore’s kind, inviting smile.

“Go ahead, young one.” The large goat monster gestured towards the human. “Why don’t you go say hello to my child.”

Unable or unwilling to refuse the king’s request, Sans gave him a shaky nod of his skull. “uh, okay. sure, mister dreemurr.”

His eyelights flitted to his father, who gave him a reassuring look and an approving nod. Drawing courage from his father’s confidence, Sans hesitantly joined his brother’s side and crouched down next to the human.

Wing Dings backed away to give his sons space, and retreated to stand beside Asgore. The two fathers look on with bated breath.

Papyrus giggled and waved excitedly to his older brother. “SNAS, ‘OOK AT MY NEW FEND!”

Sans did. He traced his eyelights along the soft contours of the human’s round face, mapping all of her many unusual human features. With a sharp focus belying his young years, he carefully examined and catalogued each and every detail he noticed.

Papyrus grabbed his hand and yanked it towards the human. “SNAS! SEE HOW SKISHY FISH IS!” He poked the human’s cheek in demonstration and laughed as his phalanges sank into the flesh. “SKISHY FISH!”

Sans gave the human a dubious look, but relented in the face of his brother’s insistence.

The young skeleton monster brought a single bony finger down to the human’s face, and under the two adults’ watchful gazes, very, very carefully gave the human’s cheek a poke.

His brother was right. The human was indeed very squishy.

Sans blinked.

He poked the cheek again. The human was also soft.

Another poke. And warm.

Frisk was evidently not as enthused by all the prodding as the skeleton monsters were. Her tiny mouth turned down at the corners and her brows creased. After some fidgeting to dislodge the offending fingers, her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes roved around for a bit, before settling on the larger of the two nearby figures.

Sans froze.

The human’s eyes were bright and clear and full of innocence. Just like his Just like his brother’s. Just like any monster child’s.

Sans couldn’t move a bone - his whole being held captive by the force of the baby’s gaze.

The human’s hand flailed in the air before catching on the finger Sans still held close to her face. Those tiny, fleshy digits curled around Sans’s own larger, bony one.

The human gave the finger she held a firm tug. Sans felt a faint, answering tug in his Soul.

“heh. human. don’t you know how to greet a new pal?” Sans gave the human a toothy grin. “here, lemme show ya.”

Slowly, delicately, Sans closed the rest of his fingers around the human’s small hand.

“i’m sans. sans the skeleton. nice to meet ya, frisk.”

Frisk smiled at him and let out a giggle.

Sans smiled back. He could feel his eyelights fuzzing around the edges.

Papyrus cheered, eye sockets sparkling, and clapped his hands. “YAY!! NEW FEND!! NEW FEND!!”

The eldest Gaster sighed in relief, glad at the lack of any incidents, and delighted that his and Asgore’s children were getting along. This was more than he’d dared to hope for.

Next to him, Asgore looked to be on the verge of cheering and clapping himself. He grasped his friend’s arm excitedly, wide, shining eyes fixed on the three children.

“Look Wingsy! Look at that! Our kids are getting along! Golly, ain’t that just swell?” He turned those twinkling eyes towards Wing Dings. “They’re going to be the best of friends, I just know it!”

The Royal Scientist gave a start. “WINGSY…?” he muttered under his breath, colour spreading across his cheekbones, before speaking louder, “AHEM, CERTAINLY! GREAT FRIENDS, I AM SURE!”

Asgore gave Wing Dings’s arm a squeeze. “Yes. Just like us.”

The skeleton monster’s eyelights grew bigger and brighter in the face of Asgore’s happy smile, directed right at him. “YES. FRIENDS LIKE US.”

After a moment, Asgore let go of the monster doctor’s arm and walked towards the children. Gaster senior followed him a few beats later.

Kneeling beside Sans, Asgore clasped the young monster’s shoulder in his big, furry paw.

“Sans. Thank you for wanting to be friends with my daughter. It means a lot to me. And I’m sure it’ll mean even more to Frisk.”

Sans ducked his head shyly, a light blush staining his cheekbones.

“‘s nothin’,” he mumbled, unable to meet the king’s grateful eyes. His eyelights drifted towards Frisk, one hand still held in his own, and towards his little brother, who was gleefully telling his new friend about all of his interests and hobbies, and effusing about all the fun they were going to have together.

Asgore shook his head.

“It most certainly is not ‘nothing’, young one,” he insisted. His gaze went to his child. “Frisk is human. And as I’m sure you know, humans… Well, monsters are not all that fond of them.”

He sighed, worry filling his expression. Sans looked uncomfortable at the turn the conversation was taking.

“I’m not sure how many monsters will be willing to make friends with her, no matter how kind she is. I’m not sure how many will even give her a chance.”

A shadow passed over the old king’s face.

“There are many reasons a human is not safe in the Underground. There are many hardships any child, let alone a human one, will have to face growing up. And I cannot be there to protect her all the time. I… I cannot help but worry for my daughter.”

Sans stilled as the Monster King’s solemn gaze fell on him.

“Which is why I hope you will try to be a good friend to Frisk. To be someone she can trust, and rely on.”

There was a weight to the old monster’s words that Sans didn’t like.

“Would you please look out for my child? Watch over her, and protect her?”

Sans definitely didn’t like where this was going.

“Could you please, please promise me, Sans?”

Sans wanted to run away and hide from the old man’s pleading look and begging words. He didn’t want that kind of responsibility - he was only a kid, after all, just five years old. He already had his baby brother to look after and protect; he didn’t want to be responsible for another life. He didn’t want to care that much for another person.

But… Sans recognised the emotion in Asgore’s voice. He knew that kind of grief. He understood that worry, that fear. He’d lost his mother not long after his brother was born - he knew, intimately, that fierce desire to protect those who remained.

And so, with a strength Sans didn’t feel like he possessed, the skeleton monster looked at Asgore, and gave him a firm, resolute nod of his skull.

“okay. i will.” He gripped the hand in his just a little bit harder. “i promise.”

Sans imagined that the sun dawning over the horizon that he’d read about in books, could not hope to match the brilliance of the joy breaking out across Asgore’s face at that moment.

“Thank you, Sans. Thank you so much. I cannot tell you how much this means to me.” Asgore’s voice held so much sincerity and gratitude, that it caused Sans to duck his head once more, overcome by shyness.

Papyrus pouted, his cheekbones puffing out in indignation.

“ME TOO! I POMISE TOO!” He yelled, stamping his foot on the ground for emphasis. “I TOO POMISE TO BE FISH FEND! AND POTEC HER!”

If possible, Asgore’s smile widened. He laughed, loud and unrestrained, from deep in his belly.

“Oh ho! Is that so, young one? Golly, ain’t my Frisk a lucky girl!” The old goat monster gave the toddler a pat on the skull. “Well then, Papyrus, you also have my thanks. I could not be happier that my daughter has a monster as great as you as her friend.”

Papyrus preened under the king’s praise. “NYEH HEH HEH! I AM GEAT! I AM THE GEAT PA-PY-WUS!”

Dr. Gaster knelt down beside the group, placing one hand each on his sons’ shoulders. “DO NOT FORGET ME. I HAVE ALSO PROMISED TO DO ALL IN MY POWER TO LOOK OUT FOR AND PROTECT YOUNG FRISK.” He looked directly into Asgore’s eyes, conveying the sincerity of his words with his gaze. “AND I DO NOT INTEND ON EVER BREAKING MY PROMISE.”

Asgore’s smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I could never forget you, my friend. Ever since we met, you have always been with me. Even in the darkest of times.”

Wing Dings had no words to offer in response, so he settled for giving Asgore his own warm smile. His eyelights glinted in their sockets - two little lights shining in the dark.

Sans eyed the two grown-ups, before turning his skull away, resisting the urge to make a face. Instead, he grinned at his baby bro, who stood proudly with his hands on his hips. He chuckled at the adorable display, love for his brother filling his Soul, before turning towards Frisk.

“welp, there ya have it, buddy.” He winked at the baby, who blinked up at him in reply. “we’ve only just met, and already you have me an’ pap as your friends. even dad’s lookin’ out for ya. and your dad thinks the world of you, of course. we’re all rootin’ for ya, frisky.”

He booped Frisk on the nose, then laughed at the way her face scrunched up, her nose wrinkling and her eyes going slightly cross-eyed, as she tried to make sense of what had just happened to her.

“heh. so young and you’re already so loved.” His expression softened, his eyelights going big and fuzzy. “you better grow up strong and kind, ‘kay? and make sure you take care of yourself, frisk. ‘cause we all really care about you.”

Frisk looked at him quietly.

And then she opened her mouth wide and stretched out all of her limbs in a full body yawn. Without missing a beat, she promptly fell fast asleep, her breath coming out in soft snores.

Sans snickered. He gave her hand one last gentle squeeze, before letting it go.

Asgore gazed down at his infant daughter. His Soul shone at seeing how peacefully she slept, without a care in the world. Trouble might come for her one day, but for now, she was safe, surrounded by friendship and love.

__________________________________________

Again, I apologise for my long hiatus. I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter ready, since life's unpredictable and I have other obligations, but it definitely won't be as long as the wait for this one was. I at least have the next few chapters planned out in my mind, so it's a matter of being able to sit down and write them out properly.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you liked it! Take care and see you next time o(*^▽^*)┛

[faultyhammock]

Get To Know Me!! thanks @thecryptkeeperskeeper for the tag dear god why would you do this to meeeeeee

Rules: Answer and tag nine people you want to get to know better and catch up with.

Favorite color(s): I am an absolute sucker, a complete slut, just down horrendous, for a good steel blue/grey blue (think that one tumblr color palate). I know it's probably boring, but a good version of that shade just gives me the good brain scratchies. Other than that, probably dark blue, any green, and black.

Last Song: The Winner Takes It All, while listening to my Better Call Saul playlist. Before that, probably Dead End Kids by Ratbag, it's quickly become one of my go-to's on the drive to work.

Currently reading: The Unbroken, by C.L. Clark, it's been on my recommendations and the fanart is cool, and by golly I need to read more books still. The main mistake is that I got it from the library to read in my downtime at work, and then I went and gave myself a creative project that's been taking up all of that time.

Currently watching: I'm two and a half episodes into EXU: Calamity at the moment, before doing the M9 reunited twoshot and going into Critical Role's 3rd campaign. Also rewatched Scream the other evening, and I think at least I'm going to get to the rest of those since I've never seen them, and we've thus far rather failed at my big long list of movies to watch in October. oh yeah also gotta rewatch Arcane season 1 very soon in prep for the incoming emotional devastation that will be season 2

Currently craving: I could probably go for an oreo or four when I get home from work, life is too short and precious to waste with the single-stuffed ones.

Coffee or Tea: Neither really? I don't know if I've really given tea its fair shake, so I should probably do that in the future, but I just don't care for the way coffee tastes at all. It's a shame, because both of them smell wonderful, but I just cannot abide the taste (of coffee).

Hobby To Try: Also definitely DnD, it had been on the "to learn" list for forever, and then I got into Critical Role, and went straight from that into playing BG3, which was helpful because at least now I should have a decent idea of how things work, my memory willing lmao. There's a couple ideas for characters that I've got rattling around in my head that I really ought to do something with, so help me. But also it requires like, actively seeking out people and talking to them and bothering them, and frankly nothing in the world horrifies me more.

Current Au: I'll be honest I'm not normally much of an AU person a lot of the time? Maybe I'm a filthy coward idk, I just tend to gravitate towards things where the story of the thing itself is what rips me apart, and so I usually try to stick to stuff that keeps that aspect to it. I can do it sometimes for funsies, I'm not that way all the time, just most of it lol, so probably some random caitvi modern au that was in my bookmarks.

Tagging if you want to join! I think I would rather spontaneously combust than actively tag other people tbh

[hcuyk]

hiii this is the anon that requested something fluffy with jacob! but OMGGG you’re so sweet 😭🫶🏻 i literally can’t believe that you’re not getting new readers when your works are just so? good?? let me learn hacking rq so i can force everyone to follow you.

maybe i really AM sunwoo and i really AM asking you out 🤭 (both untrue, but we can pretend ‼️)

your masterlist is totally fine btw!! i ended up lying to you last night about binge reading bc i forgot i have a job interview today and, even tho it’s tempting, i can’t risk it all for some good fics. i ended up reading every single tbz timestamp tho and i was giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair, etc, etc. but if i notice any problems with links as i go on, i’ll lyk!

bfhkfhedYOU’RE SO NICE 😭❤️‍🩹 i totally understand you not having time to write tho! and i’d be saur excited over a timestamp if you were the writer. a whole oneshot is so generous (esp since you don’t have the time. like, hello? ily), so i’m completely fine with a timestamp! i obviously like them since i read so many last night dkenjdhd

you’re def not overreacting btw! you’re like my new fav person now <3

FLUFFY WITH JACOB ANON YOU'RE LITERALLY THE LOML please stay and become a regular 😭😭 either by revealing who you are or providing me with an emoji i can refer to you by, unless your life goal is to forever be referred to as fluffy with jacob LMFAO

im literally POUTING SO HARD WHILE READING THIS OMG :( (yes we rp but honestky you dont have to be sunwoo youre alr my everything)

I HOPE THE INTERVIEW WENT SO WELL AND THAT YOU ACED IT AND GET THE JOB OF YOUR DREAMS‼️‼️ and im so glad you enjoy my timestamps but gosh golly gee they're an embarrassment 💀

ALSO NEW FAVORITR PERSON?! YOURE MY NEW FAVORITE ANON EVER OMG AND IF YOU DO RETURN, ALSO GIVE PRONOUNS AND IF YOU PREFER MASC/FEM/NEUTRAL TERMS 🤲🤲🤲

i hope this is the start of smth new 🤩 (let a girl dream im OBSESSED)

[hwaightme]

*i now really want coffee or tea i must join in the sip sips*

first of all, when you wrote to me that you started reading it, i legit just paused everything and went "oh GOLLY IT IS HAPPENING OKAY" - because really, your opinion means so so so flipping much to me. i was *SAT*

and then when you shared your feedback... and are sharing it now.... i am simply ;~; teary-eyed and forever grateful. to hear from you, a person, a writer, a friend i look up to so much, that you think this is well done and is worth the wait just makes every day matter and everything good ;~; <3 thank you so much. i wish i had more words to say but i am really just about to be like those bds you put on the side of the glass that bow repeatedly ;~; <3

woosan hc is that they full on reprimand yn (with the slipper, and the talk rap - mixtape hours sjfhksdfgs) and really mingi is an angel, fully agreed ;~; he is out here going 'let's clean up the mess mess mess in distress' while being one hella patient boi

my heart full on skipped a beat at the "quotable" i am yelling ;~; <3 and song mingi, happy endings forever please.... now it's time for us to listen to his Untitled, and sob together ;~; salted coffee, anyone?

I love you so much, thank you for everything <3

Use me (part 2)

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR LEO KING'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)

(part 1) (masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🥂 pairing: non-idol!mingi x fem!reader (implied yun... x reader - i wonder who...) 🥂 genre: smut, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers-ish 🥂 summary: you try to forget and return to what you know best, but what is on a sober mind quickly turns into a drunk phone call and a life-changing confession. 🥂 wordcount: 22.5k 🥂 warnings/tags: language, alcohol/drinking, over-drinking/being drunk, toxic behaviour, risky behaviour, unhealthy coping, trauma, implied past abuse/assault, flashbacks, numbing, one night stands, learning to love, learning to feel, mingi driving through the night, implied psychologist!mingi as job, fools in love and lust 🥂 taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ 🥂 a/n: this has been long in the works, first as a haunting thought, then as what you may see here. i'd love to dedicate this fic to @byuntrash101 <3 thank you for your continued support, for our love and friendship <3 to everyone, i appreciate you all, any and all reblogs, notes, thoughts appreciated, much love!

🥂 nsfw tags: dom-leaning switch!reaader, sub-leaning switch!mingi, protected sex, thigh riding, fingering, handjob, blowjob, facial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied squirting, dirty talk, pet names (darling, doll, gorgeous... others...), loving talk/pillow talk, mentioned aftercare and general gentleness, reader is sober atp, explicit asking for consent, wearing mingi's t-shirt, a lot of kissing because they are all over each other, a whole lot of doting, sex that is like a hug

"I love you..."

A slam of the door.

Where it all began.

You. Left in a loud solitude. Ceasing to stifle your sobs with your tee and letting out an animalistic cry. An innocent creature who trusted unconditionally, only to be shot at point blank and abandoned once the fun chase was over. There was no one out there except yourself to mourn your loss. Trapped in a dark room for what you believed to be the rest of your years.

Harsh reality collapsed on you under impossibly strong gravity, and trapped you with one brutal swipe. Your heart was being eaten away by your acidic mind that kept on replaying, replaying, replaying the moments that had led to your metamorphosis. A catharsis in reverse, an autonomous inflictor of agony festering in every crevice. 

It was funny how one's thoughts could be so lucid, come the worst. You could clearly recollect just how grateful you had been that your mother, as always, was out of town, and upon her return would be in oblivious bliss, and how ‘wonderful’ it was that there was nothing to look forward to for the next day. Or perhaps ever. You did not want to lift your hopes again and again only for them to descend faster than light to the pits of hell signed with your name. No need. There was enough time to prepare your space, invite and get to know your unrelenting demons before the alarms reminding you of basic social functioning would ring, and your body would be torn from your whirlpool of torment to enter the hustle and bustle of crowds. Not one person was aware of who they were walking with. Who they were walking past. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and you tore yours out in an effort to distort and move on.

The luxury of time before the ringing of the digital bells. You could cleanse yourself until your skin was no longer yours, until what remained of your willingness to perceive could spot the etchings of a body. You could cut out every part of you that served as a reminder. Subject each one to the savage ritual, until you were pure. The perfect angel once more, no longer decorated in shades of blue and maroon inside and out. You could remove each lobe, each cortex of your brain and douse it in the strongest agents, and to the rhythm of the rippling waters from the sink submerge them in the illusion of bliss.

And yet, you had not moved an inch, choosing to remain as a stranger in your own flesh.

You could fight back. You could rise above and spit the venom of the scorned and those isolated by societal hellfire, raise the flag and tell the story of those who could not. Be larger than yourself, a self-starting role model, redefine yourself as someone who used their past as motivation, as a foundation for unshakeable morals that would lead you to a humanity-changing greatness.

But what good was it when you stopped feeling? What happened? Who were you?

It was a wave that took you in, providing you the satisfaction of prolonged sensory suffocation, suspending you in senseless attitude, order, and disposition. The self-hating rebellion that had reared its head and manifested itself within you, turned you into something out of a nightmare. But you had never realised just how intricate and terrifying was the persona you had materialised within yourself. The cavities and taboos that had now become intricacies and embellishments of the scarred soul would have been repulsive to you before. To the one who existed before that damned day, hour, minute, second.

Numb. You were numb. Always numb. Cruising through your years, silencing any possibility of truly healing. Because no. You were not damaged - you would spit at anyone who dared to call you that. You were not hurt - no signs of weakness could be found on the surface, and this was how you were surviving. You were above it. Nothing happened. What were you talking about? Nothing. Nothing at all. That was what you kept repeating to yourself until the mantra turned into the truth. Truth be told, you were not sure what you were mourning anymore, except that if you did not, out of habit, it would hurt until you would be twisted limb by limb into submission. And the life you had chosen would begin again - new day, same mistakes.

In the process of your radical renaissance into a fatal night-time goddess, you did try to find love. Those had been the last cries of a helpless bird plummeting from the sky. But it all cycled back to the same old thing. Besides, if nobody around you knew what love was, how could you be expected to comprehend, let alone give it? You could not be bothered to believe that there were outliers, nor delve into the reasons why things like ‘friends’ ever stuck around. You lived, you breathed, and that was good enough. You wanted to purge yourself of love.

That was how the three little words, in that haunting sequence, came to be your personal poltergeist; a curse to summon a despicable demon that you vowed to never utter. Bloody Mary, Beetlejuice - sure. Just not those three words. They had lost their significance aside from being the root of your troubles and despair. The words did not mean a person would stay. The words were not a promise that you would not be hurt. The words were not a shield that you could hide behind. So instead, you took to sharpening knives, being a spiteful hedonist in search of the last laugh.

Little did you know, love was a creative sadistic monster, and had been by your side all this time. It chose to attack you during the most pleasurable high – one that you had crafted and followed in perfunctory resistance.

"I love you, Y/N..."

It was almost the same. Only this time, it was you shutting the door. Running from yourself.

Your getup appeared almost comical now, as you sat, doubled over on the sofa in Wooyoung’s and San’s apartment. What had been a stunning pair of pumps was now a miserable member of the abandoned shoe society, piled in a corner right by the entrance and masked by an ancient collection of plastic bags, courtesy of San’s resourcefulness. The black dress that was threatening to ride further and further up your thighs at any moment was nothing more than shame vehemently clinging onto your skin.

While you were combating the whirring tornado of short- and long-term memories with a bouncing leg and a zoned-out stare into the carpet, your friends remained equally silent, knowing better than to disturb. Over the years they had never asked why you did things the way you did. They merely learned the patterns and accepted you as you were – an action for which you could never repay them, so you simply hoped that, at least sometimes, you were doing the same if they needed it.

Your cryptic sequence was broken only when you felt a warm fabric being draped over your shoulders, making you instantly stiffen, alert. The rush of foreign sensations made you gasp as your eyes darted up, to be met by San’s, who was sitting across from you on a faux leather ottoman. You had no recollection of when he had moved it from its original position by the wall, between the TV stand and an indoor palm tree, and it made you strangely guilty. You really had a knack for not paying attention to those close to you.

When San noticed your unfocused gaze, he slowly raised both of his hands, palms up, inhaling at the same time, and then lowering them, along with an audible, level exhale. You chuckled, making him break into a small grin – you were coming back. Not quite ready to touch what appeared to be a jacket or cardigan that was now embracing you, you put your own hands between your thighs, feeling their miniscule tremors as the adrenaline high subsided.

“You’re literally shivering, Y/N. Do you want me to, uh, bring you a blanket? We have a nice wool throw; a gift from San’s… mom… so you know it’s going to be cosy.” Wooyoung cautiously explained to you in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. He was standing off to your right, arms crossed.

The last time you had heard him use such a soft tone was when you had come with him to visit a friend’s newborn – and even then, he had to have been reminded to ‘shut it or he would be on nappy changing duties for a week’. It made you want to scream, act out, anything to push away this coddling and belittling that was passed off as sympathy. Oh, how you despised when people seemed to walk on eggshells around you. There always existed a desire within you to prove to others that you never needed help, or at least would never ask for it explicitly. That was why, even now, during your rather turbulent departure from the first night in a while that you knew you would not forget no matter how much you might want to, you did not want to play it cool. You needed to.

“That’s because you guys appear to be saving on your electricity bills. I told you: an apartment with heated floors is a bad idea.” you attempted to keep your voice level, but it remained airy and weak, wholly ignoring your efforts. It was as if somehow, your body was physically worn from the marathons you ran in your mind.

“But it keeps my feet nice and toasty.” Wooyoung whined and wiggled his toes demonstratively

“Which is why you… ah nevermind. Cool apartment, either way. I knew you guys were secretly interior designers.”

The topic change helped you get more comfortable in your skin. You finally managed to find the energy and courage to grab onto the edges of the jacket, which had turned out to be Wooyoung’s beloved grey fleece zip up hoodie and pull it tighter around you. It wasn’t so hard to recognise the relief that had washed over your friends’ features as they saw you carry out the simple motion. It really was cold. Though you had no way to distinguish between the internal and external.

As you transitioned from reliving the past to inching through the present, step by step until you found yourself leaning against a kitchen counter with a mug of hot coffee cradled in your hands, your habitual mindset returned. The lines, turned stark and agonising after hearing those forbidden words had regained their hazy infusion, reinvigorating you with a pleasant buzz of numbness, reminiscent of the prickly sensation when muscles just began to wake up, albeit more lulling, something only a person who was alive in the soul was capable of experiencing. It was not long until your friends’ suggestions and extensive monologues began to fall flat on your ears, drifting through your body and expelling themselves to never be remembered. You watched their lips move, their hands paint pictures of a future for you in the air, and yet it all turned to darkness. You swiftly turned the lights off to their reprimands, their comfort, just like you had done before. It was clear that they did not expect much from you either, otherwise why would they sound so well-practised? A sense of deja vu washed over you; as if you had been in the same place before, with the same heavy weight in your chest, cradling the same mug and drinking the same beverage. Were you ever going to change? 

Wouldn't it be funny if you knew how to follow advice? Technically you did. For an entire two weeks thanks to Wooyoung and San forcing you into a movie night with them on the Friday in the middle of the madness - you do not remember a single one of the movies watched, all of them having turned into a blur, and you: a jittery mess. You needed your weekly diversion, your sensual fix that you had ingrained into your routine as if it was yoga or pilates. Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to. Your version was just a lot more exciting than the average physical exertion in the name of wellbeing. So as you had sat between your two friends, with San having his hand lazily thrown over your shoulders, serving as your head rest, and Wooyoung having made your lap into his pillow, you envisioned a different comfort for yourself. All this cosiness was making you choke, suffocating you as an anaconda would at an astonishingly fast pace, and you could feel that another second more and you would prefer to call your closest friends - strangers. You needed out; at least one day of the week, like you three had done previously. You had tried to hint to San that maybe returning into the swing of things would let his heartbreak pass more quickly, but he only patted your head and gave you a melancholy smile. Though you had returned it, just to soften the blow and reassure him through his romantic solitude, behind your cheek was a bitten tongue, acting as the last straw between your molars and preventing you from making matters worse - at least for San and Wooyoung. You had nothing to say for yourself; actually, you never did. You were never one for self-descriptions or elaborations, preferring to show and not tell. Another reason why in this platonic silence, you were being driven into craving your favourite meal of depravity, where the only language spoken was that of action and seduction. If you were to succeed in moving on from the mistake that still lingered on your skin - kisses trailing the mazes of your body and ghosting over your lips, you needed to erase them by the same method. Time to take matters into your own hands, and that meant a new dress, a new pair of heels, a new club and a new accessory for one night.

You could not hear anyone nor anything. Most importantly, you could not hear your erratic heartbeat, nor the thoughts that were looming over you and speeding around your mind palace. No - if anything was going to take your breath away, it would be the lips of another stranger. Anything to erase the ones that were too laden with emotion, too laden with affection and infatuation for you. A toxic poison that had transferred right into your bloodstream and was beginning to eat you alive. You needed to escape, find a cure to this turmoil before you succumbed to the idea that anyone could care about you more than for a night. There was satisfaction in routine, in a fluorescent madness that was systematically established in your life as a way to let go, thereby gain control. You needed a hit, badly, and one so strong that the weekend would not exist for you, and Mingi's lingering touches would be fully wiped from your body. How dare he spill his darkest secrets to you, mixing nightmare with the ultimate fantasy? He was going to pay for thinking that he could control you in this way and spin threads out of your soul, not by confrontation, but by your sheer indifference. He was just a man, you had repeated to yourself like a mantra as you stepped into a club in a completely different part of town, looking ever so stunning in a deep burgundy dress; he had no influence over your actions and you owed him nothing, not even an explanation. Obviously, he was the one who had overstepped boundaries that he was supposed to sense were there, so why should you consider his melancholic eyes, the sunny smile that had set as soon as he would wake up to see you gone, the- 

No. No more Mingi. Only the beautiful stranger who was devouring you with his alluring orbs, looking past his friends and making you feel as though you were the sole being in that hall. This was the man who could help you forget, at least you hoped he would. Sauntering straight to the bar, you did not spare him as much as a glance when his figure drifted past you. You could sense more gazes following you, just how you always liked it, burning away those adoring caresses that made your skin crawl; you needed a sensory and sensual apocalypse, a purgatory for the damned, reducing your life back to that familiar sin that tasted so sweet and was a stone cold bitch in the morning. You were not some frail creature waiting for a proclamation of love for the sake of validation, nor were you a seeker of such types of closeness - if anyone, it was you who knew it was more fleeting than a good fuck. At least there was satisfaction and sport to gain from the later, and the heart remained caged and untouched. It was not hard to be animalistic, all you needed to do was to give up ruminating those classic "do they like me do they not", and slam the door to social niceties shut. There was no room for feelings when you needed to fly from the tormenting earth, for they were too heavy - a ballast that you needed to rid yourself of as soon as you could. The haze, you needed to give into the tipsy haze; one drink, another, and the world was beautiful. Stunning, even. The blur was an acute desire, accentuating sensuality and letting you transform into the killer queen of the night. 

In this wondrous dissociation, you could not care less about who you were nor who the people around you paraded themselves as. It was all a play-pretend, and may the most talented actors win. No one came to the club to fall in love, and if they did, they were sure to have their heart broken and stomped on, over and over, and over again. Finishing the last of your old fashioned - a drink which you had been introduced to by none other than your friend Wooyoung, you decided that it was time to let yourself go on the dance floor, only to be followed suit by the tall man whom you had subconsciously beckoned. Clearly, he was interested in the same exact thing, and took no time in approaching you, disregarding all other people, and laying a hand on your hip to lead you in a sultry, rhythmic dance further igniting your hope and anticipating desire. You chuckled to yourself as you felt that familiar buzz once more, and studied the way in which your temporary partner's muscles moved in an unbelievably enticing manner under his shirt - material for your lustful imagination. The heat from his body was addictive, and the adrenaline and dopamine-fuelled pace at which you moved to the intense beat left you even more determined than usual. You needed him. You needed this stranger, depended on him and trusted him more than any of your friends, and definitely more than a certain someone who thought he could be something more. As you took your so-called saviour by the collar and tugged so he would be only an inch away, you finally asked his name. His eyes revealed a flash of lasciviousness, just how you wanted, and he sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered back: 

"And with what purpose, sweetheart?" Chuckling airily, you pulled him even closer, until he smirked and wrapped his hands around your waist, more determined, more aggressive and expectant of a continuation in this dangerous game. 

"So that I know what I'll be screaming tonight." 

For a second, you felt him falter, breath hitching as he took in your words, causing fear to rise in your chest as a flash of the timid lovesick angel ran across your vision, and you could almost picture Mingi instead of the canvas for a good night who you were seducing. But this did not last nearly long enough for you to back down, and a line of kisses along the jawline, intimate yet loveless, purely carnal and revering your determination confirmed your selection. This man was on your wavelength, and this man was: 

"Bold of you to assume that you’ll be able to, sweetheart. I dare say it won’t be usef-." 

Use me.

The phrase flashed in your mind just as the attractive man closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Without as much as a pause, he tilted your head slightly, giving himself a better angle to lightly nibble on your lower lip, sending a shudder down your back. Fingers digging into your skin as he swallowed another sigh - a fragment of your tainted soul for him to keep, he was the embodiment of addiction. The luminance from the neon hallucinations that surrounded you were decorating your and his skin in vibrant greens and purples. He was confident, self-assured, leading despite possessing the hints of an otherwise reserved man. Your thoughts involuntarily drifted to a certain bashful someone who had ended up with you at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and you - in the wrong mindset. Tonight, you wanted to be used. This much you deserved and required in order to purge yourself of this newfound tendency to reminisce and compare everything against Mingi. Who were you? The one you chose to entertain yourself with tonight had his teasing tongue against your lips, not exactly asking for access - demanding it, and it reeled you back into the whirlpool of a daze that came with the deafening drumming of desire, growing louder and louder until nothing else would exist.

His touch - you were caught ablaze as you let him guide your footing off the dance floor and into the dimming lights towards the edges of the club’s main hall. His torso pressed against you, strong arm hooked around your upper body as he kissed the side of your neck. One blink, another and your back was pressed against a cool wall in the corridor that ran around the establishment’s perimeter, rarely traversed, often used by the likes of you and evidently, him. You could not bear to open your eyes out of fear of finding someone you did not want to see - the intensity of your recollections growing stronger with every arousing movement. The same high that you normally would be building up towards was nowhere to be sensed while your nameless lover reached for your breast, cupping and kneading it with an open, salacious wanting. There was little left to the imagination, just as you had initially wanted, and yet something was missing from the series of events that the universe offered to you; the storyline that you had crafted was beginning to get dreary. Squinting down to force yourself into this darling’s passionate kisses, you still struggled to rid yourself of the monologues, the fears and most importantly, the terror-inducing phrase that had pierced through your heart and left shrapnel in every organ, turning into butterflies in your stomach and flowers in your lungs. It hurt to discover yourself in the same situation as before, always looking for something and someone better. Clearly, your stalling and rapid cooldown had not gone unnoticed as the man pulled away, hands back on your hips, one lifting to readjust your dress a little. What had been the glare of a predator was replaced with an almost friendly concern, and the danger which you had craved a mere few minutes ago evaporated, leaving behind an approachable gentleman, the swiftness of the change nearly giving you whiplash.

“Trying to forget someone?”

The question was jarring, somehow more jarring than how he was now presenting himself. With a glance to either side, he took you by the hand, leading you away from what was about to be your scene for a one night stand and back to the main hall. Stumbling over your feet you barely kept up with his pace, his taste, his scent still consuming you and rendering you to move and think slower, the combination with the ringing of alcohol in your bloodstream proving to be reckless, nearly deadly. As the thrum of a hip hop track reset the heart’s pace, jolting you awake and clambering for any kind of reassurance, your eyes met the tall beau’s gaze once again. He had smoothed the locks that you had ruffled, his slightly swollen lips, curled into a lopsided grin being the only sign of what had just unfolded. You could not help but raise an eyebrow, only now registering his question and deeming the gesture to be an appropriate response.

“I don’t exactly fuck emotional baggage, if you get what I mean.”

“Ouch, but fair.” breathless, you squeezed the answer out of your throat, unsteady.

“Glad we understand each other, uh…” he trailed off, attempting to recall the name you did not give. You tilted your head, trying to do the same for him, but failing to find an answer. Did it slip your mind? The recent past turned to centuries, accelerating into emptiness. 

“Hm?”

“Yeah. Just, glad we’re on the same page, I guess.” he cleared his throat, looking back at the vibrancy of dance and sensuality unfolding before you. The music changed once more - once again, another song about a body count and about substances that you would never mention in the daytime. At least not yet. Your head began to hurt, perhaps only a little more than your heart.

“Y/N.”

“Mm…ha. Nice to meet you. You can call me… Yun.” he deliberated for a while before giving you what you assumed to be either a nickname, or a parting gift of a syllable just for you. 

“Nice to meet you, Yun.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, it was clear that he was looking for the right words to let you down slowly and make a swift escape back to his own life, his own friends, his own respective path that was far from yours. Very likely, as it should be. With a sharp exhale, you smiled, making it your turn to induce perplexion. With every vice came sacrifice and risk, and this type was far too common. Be it from starting on the wrong foot or losing the rhythm and steam in the process, two people under the cover of night with nothing tying them together were bound to drift away, it was simply a matter of when. Evidently this was happening sooner rather than later for you and what you had been hoping would be a solution to your anguish. It had to have been your fault, you told yourself while an unreadable gleam settled on your features and you gave the man a single wave to suggest that he need not bother with excessive politeness - after all you had gotten to know each other well enough for that, at least in your books.

“Guess I am right then.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your reaction.”

“Meet quote unquote emotional women often?”

“They seem to be my type.” you chuckled as he shifted his stance and took a step closer to you, only to turn his body to observe the dance floor while standing by your side. As friends would. An involuntary memory stabbed at your side one again as you mumbled back:

“Maybe you’re a magnet.”

“I don’t mind when they look so good,” with a look to the side, Yun regarded your pose - leaning against the wall, arms crossed, previous aims for allure forgotten as your eased into a more comfortable back and forth, the rush ebbing away to be replaced with an anxious dissatisfaction, “Alas, you are in too deep I fear.”

“Am not.” you hissed out, brows knitting together as you desperately clung onto the present, only to hear and see the same voice, the same words, the same man who you were so adamant to erase. With every sentence uttered by the man, Mingi became more prominent. A laughing stock to the self and to all others - you shook your head. What had gotten into you?

“I don’t like to be called other people’s names during sex, sorry, not my kink.”

The out of pocket line, completed by a realisation at his own choice of words coaxed a chuckle out of your otherwise progressively crumbling state. Even though you had tried to remain below your limit, the alcohol in your system was hitting you with an inexplicable force, the pounding of your chest travelling to your temples, getting stronger until you could barely focus on Y- was it Yun? Yang? Yeong? You needed something to dull this. Remove this. Cut it out of your system so that you did not have to think.

“Fair.” you forced out, the neutral smile remaining on the lips, lingering traces of a falsified passion becoming your new tint, a colour you liked to wear so often it could be your favourite.

“Have a good night, yeah? Sorry things couldn’t be more fun, darling.”

There it was, you could read it on his face. Embarrassment, pity, the hope to never encounter you again. The reason why you always left first, turned around and strode away into the darkness from whoever it was you were to pick for the night. Including the one man who had revealed his soul to you; his innermost thoughts. And just like an automaton, a faulty machine, you blended his heartfelt words with the filth made for a landfill of lies and dread. The back of the failed thrill, whose name was just out of reach, growing smaller and blending into the scenery was a slap across the face, even though you had told yourself time and time again that you had seen enough of the same to not be affected. It had to be the lights, you told yourself. Definitely the lights. And how they reminded you of Mingi, how his eyes reflected the hues as he stared into yours so tenderly, like he was seeing an angel. How he gently held you, your fragility becoming his eternity as he whispered the words that acted like the flutter of the butterfly’s wings that caused the storm. Logic was struggling to keep up with your rumination - this was a different club and a different man, nothing about this could ever amount to the night you had felt like a goddess. If anything, the abandonment was gnawing at your flesh like a foul, feral beast, exposing you more than your dresses ever could.

An airy laugh accompanied your amble towards the bar. You should have known  - after all, if you were told to not think of the pink elephant, you would only think of the pink elephant. Same with the ‘no Mingi’ rule. It was an endless cycle that you were trapped in, and as days stretched out into two weeks, the avoidance was becoming unbearable. Your hand moved on its own as you called the bartender over, mouth and throat working together, far removed from your mind as they ordered champagne. Why? What was there to celebrate? There was no way of knowing, but the bubbles were your closest friends tonight, and you wanted to forget what just happened and whatever was supposed to happen until Saturday were to roll around - tomorrow could be the day you took care of the dirty laundry.

It did not take long for the beverage to transform you, and in a matter of a quarter of an hour with two or so glasses down you were back on the dance floor. But the vigour, the style and the soaring supremacy were nowhere to be found. As you tried to find your place among the sweaty bodies, nudged around by sharp elbows and tugged away by grubby hands, the sensation of belonging was but a mirage. Slow, you wanted to be anywhere in this cesspool of limbs, move along with the rest of the masses and get lost in the action so you did not have to consider your own movements, giving yourself up to the inertia of a wild crowd. One push, another, you were crammed between one figure and another, another push and a snag at your hair and you were flinging yourself wildly to an illusion of freedom in a different section of the floor. A phone flying beside you, barely an inch away from your cheek, flicking your earring and momentarily blinding you with a flashlight that had been left on. What were they looking for, you wondered. Perhaps the same thing as you. As you spun your head around, the pounding getting louder once again, the shoving had become more aggressive and two rough hands landed on your waist, supported by a lewd greeting. Jolted awake from chaotic musings, you grabbed a fistful of someone’s shirt, screaming out until the bubbly was rendering your speech incomprehensible - someone had to help you. Commotion unclear, breathing unsteady, the hands, the legs the torsos and heads all morphed into one creature who you were battling in your last fit of rage. Another pull, earning a yelp, and you were encountered with a familiar face. Y, or was it A, or I? Something or other, his name was a mystery to you. Tall. Handsome - you thought. In the blur it was impossible to detect. You remembered that he tasted sweet. Or maybe not - the champagne had taken over your system, your miniature party for one. Pushing yourself off the man you stumbled towards what you remembered to be the emergency exit. At least you were careful enough to avoid dragging yourself out of a club in shame from the front entrance; you were not that inexperienced to allow yourself to do that. 

Cursing under your breath you put one hand on the black wall of the corridor that would lead you to your freedom. Passing by a place your instinct was telling you was significant, you paused, only to shake your head and step forwards. One, two, three, four - congratulations, you could count. The coolness of the metal on the door was a relief as you leaned over unceremoniously to press your forehead against it, not caring if someone were to see you. You sighed into the sensation as the metal absorbed some of the heated rush, a portion of clarity returning to you and reminding you of your initial mission. That was right, you needed to get out. And ‘needed out’ in general.

With one quick shove the door swung open, spitting you out onto the sidewalk of, much to your fortune, a less crowded street, occupied for the most part by equally inebriated party-goers, celebrating the miracle that was a Friday night - a time that was slowly turning into your nightmare. A cacophony of beats and melodies from one club, another, all accumulating in a sonorous hellscape to render your senses almost fully numb. Feeling the air in front of you, you swore you could touch every particle, tendrils of wind brushing past you like a busy stranger. While there were not that many people, some yelling, others laughing wholeheartedly from the belly to the heavens, others simply enjoying the drinks that they carried out from their venues of choice, they most certainly had enough of a presence to leave you pitifully shattered. All eyes, of all hues and intensities, rolling and glaring and focusing on you. Poring over your miserable form and minimising you into a vermin under observation, a bacterium trapped on a petri dish under a microscope. They knew, they had to know about what had happened - about everything. They could read you from one year to another and were ready to tear you apart. They knew that you were a slave to the escapism, knew that you were a creature of lascivious habit, knew that you were thoughtlessly hurting the people you loved-

Loved. Nausea caught up to you as the word crawled into the forefront of your dazed mind, settling like a viscous tar over every subject matter and memory, over consciousness itself. Though it was nearly impossible to finetune your movements, you managed to locate the pole of a streetlight without having to slam a swinging hand into it for guidance, and slide down onto the edge of the cold pavement. Narrowly avoiding a discarded bottle, caked with unrecognisable substance and pulp from the wet and tarnished label, you felt your weight press into the stone, hoping that you would dissolve into the painfully rigid material. Elbows on your legs and hands on your face, you desperately tried to wipe the word away - you did not mean it, did you? You never had to say it, why say it now? Your familiar monster reared its head, drinking every last droplet of your sobriety to combat what you had admitted. Who did you love? Two legs drifted past you, stopping for a second to let a voice call out to you before you waved them off. Click-clack, click-clack away and away, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again. Who did you love? The pounding of your heart was overwhelming you, and you could barely hear yourself over its chaotic drumming. Who did you love? While it was easy to imagine your closest friends, the same ones who had tried to protect you from yourself and who, undoubtedly, were now cursing your name and the ground you walked on, your brain decided that there was another, less welcome character that should join the scene. With a groan, you clenched your hands into white-knuckled fists and hit your temples, once, twice as though that would help in getting rid of the precious image.

This had to be happening because Mingi said it first. The reason why Mingi was the one to persistently sway you, haunt you even when you were purposefully trying to drown in yourself and others, had to be because he planted those words in your mind when you least expected it - forced them upon you, an unwelcome gift. This was how it always happened: drawn in by the attention, promised a future and wholehearted adoration, you gave your all, only for the one who dared to utter the words to step away, having fulfilled their needs. ‘I love you’ was an exchange token, and apparently, your local currency. Like a penny out of rotation, those words should not hold any meaning, but they did, and you hated yourself for it. You hated how easily they had rolled off Mingi’s tongue, hated how they replayed in your head more times than you could process, hated how they were the words you wanted to hear again. Out of all the words in every language, these were the ones that introduced pain to the world.

He needed to answer for himself, your mind decided. Your rationality would consider the consequences later. Now, you needed answers. To what questions? That, too, could be decided at a later time. Clumsy hands searching in your purse, roughly pushing aside a slim card wallet and keys to take out the device which was now illuminating your fatigued features, the glare of the screen making you squint, every number and letter barely legible due to an intense blur that dominated your vision. If only you could wipe it away - a hand reaching to rub at the eyes, not caring for the eyeshadow nor the mascara, more darkness, friction, light again. As you moved the phone closer and further away from you in an attempt to find a golden distance that would give you better focus, as if you were operating with a broken camera, the thumb kept on searching for the right number. Contact after contact names flew by, turning into one continuous line, with the surnames and nicknames twisting and turning like snakes, colliding trains in your brain until finally, you found him. Not in the contacts, but in the myriad of messages you had left on read - another pattern characteristic of yours. It was not that you wanted to leave people behind, but your hands never felt strong enough to respond, and your thoughts could never tie together a satisfactory response. So you stayed silent.

He had checked on you, apparently. Asked if you were okay. The first time was two weeks ago. Then ten days. Then, radio silence. Probably was mad at you. You could not blame him. There had been no explanation, nor any wish to contact from your end - while it was what you usually did to strangers, not catching their name beyond the bedroom, nor ever seeking them out after you used their bodies, Mingi had been a friend. Not anymore, at least that was certain. But still, habit could not cut it here. This was why you needed answers - why could he not act like everyone else and fall in line, into the clear cut moulds? Finger hovering over the call button, now burning into your skin, you could not stop yourself from shaking. Biting your lip, all hints of colour replaced by a rekindling fire, you took the step over the edge, repeating his name in your head like a mantra as the call connected, and you imagined his phone starting to ring, somewhere out there in the city. Suddenly, your thoughts could not be more lucid, and you could almost see how the device would be vibrating on his bedside table. Right, he had to be asleep by now, surely. Just as you were about to end the call, however, the screen changed, and the time began to climb from zero.

“Uh… it’s… midnight or something… Y/N?” his husky voice, husky, warmer than the summer sun answered you. You remained quiet, afraid of letting this moment go, “Y/N? Are you okay?” he was asking if you were okay-

“Where are you?” a new harshness snapped you out of your temporary stupor.

“I- uh… I- am…” you tried, but could not find the right answer, however much you tried.

“Are you at… a club?” The pause was nearly lethal. You focused on the rustling in the background - it seemed that you were right and he indeed was in bed. Not anymore. A sigh and a thump, more movement. He was disappointed, wasn’t he? But he was listening. He had to listen to you.

“Not… not anymore.”

“Did someone hurt you?” The question felt foreign, unexpected. You raised your head, hugging your knees to your body, a terrible frailness seeping to your very bones.

“N-no…”

“Where are you?”

You could not believe that you were talking to Mingi. After all this time he was still talking to you, answered your late night call and was asking how you were. An angel in human form, so precious, so cute. A giggle escaped you as you found a slightly less dirty spot on the concrete to lean back and rest your hand on. Feeling some tension in your back unwind, your muscles were given freedom to turn restless. You wanted to scream, but that was bound to make Mingi end the call, and you did not quite want to stop listening to that voice of his - your strange addiction. Eyes closing, you let him repeat the question again, accompanied by jingle that could only be his keys. 

“I…”

“Street? Sign? Anything? Y/N,” he paused, exhaling, “...talk to me.”

“About…?” you asked, not catching onto what he meant.

“About the damn location. I am coming to get you.”

“Wait… really?” you slurred, fighting the desire to pass out, weighed down by another wave of tiredness.

“Yes. You are drunk. It is the least I can do.”

“What’s the most?”

“Location, for fuck’s sake. Check the street name or something. Can you walk?” he shot back, louder than before, speaking right into the microphone, the last bits of sleep evaporating from his tone, leaving behind the deep vocal ocean that you wanted to drown in.

“Uh huh,” whether you were lying or not, you were about to find out. Clambering for the street light once again, you heaved yourself up, barely catching yourself before tumbling back down, unstable on your heels. Clearly, your heavy breathing was caught by the phone as you heard Mingi asking if you were okay, again, “...just peachy, darling.”

The pet name never sounded more natural and comforting than now, flying to and through Mingi like lightning. The silence over the line was a terrifying suspense, making you wonder about what you said. You could not find anything particularly wrong. Wasn’t this how people who cared about one another spoke? Blinking away the stars in your eyes that were ceaselessly twirling in flashes of white and black, you wobbled towards a rectangle on the corner of the small street, which had to be the sign that Mingi was asking for. Mumbling the words on the board, half to yourself, half to him, you commended the otherwise laughable victory of being able to pick out the characters and interpret them.

“Okay… not too terribly far. I’ll come pick you up. Do not wander. Did you hear me?”

“Mhm…”

“What did I say?”

“...uh something about wandering, right?” An exhale. More footsteps. 

“Stay where you are. Stay. Heard me?”

“Yes Mingi darling, I did.”

“Good I- yeah. Just. I’ll be right there.”

Beep. Silence. A car in the distance darting past. Laughter. A flicker of the streetlight. The breeze caressing your legs. People walked past as you hugged your form, aware that it would not do anything to help you. You were counting the threads, the pieces of cloth sewn together to form what you had considered armour with the tips of your fingers, every groove accentuated as you swayed in your solitude, convinced that what had just happened was a dream. It had to have been. Who would listen to you in this state? It had to be your mind playing tricks on you, feeding you more and more visions until you would snap under them.

Fine. You were going to call him tomorrow, yes, that was right. When you were feeling better, you would call Mingi, apologise. Maybe over a coffee - yes that was better. Did he drink coffee? Was he even in town? Questions climbed up the walls of your consciousness while you, frustrated with the way in which the straps of your high heels were digging into your skin, crouched to take the culprits of your physical pain off. One shoe, another, and you were freed from the localised dolor. Stillness transforming into an amble, you made it a mission to walk to the larger street. There, you could get a taxi - there were always many of them around night time in neighbourhoods like this, kind drivers with kind metres if you gave them a pretty enough smile. 

Stay where you are. I love you. Stay where you are. I love you. Stay where you are.

Who said that? You froze mid stride, losing balance onto to have your back hit the brick wall of the building to your side, just under the sign you had read out to - 

So it did happen after all. You had talked to Mingi. Moaning out in frustration, you slid down the rough structure and onto the ground beneath you, throwing an empty water bottle and a fast food wrapper away from you in anger. Unable to recall what you had said to him, you settled for piecing together his voice, hands emulating the linking of a jigsaw puzzle in front of you. Purse having long become a bracelet, and phone clenched in one of your hands as if it was permanently linked to your body, the only thing that existed was every phrase that he had uttered into your ear, like he was standing by you. So much for not thinking of Song Mingi. Way to go. What a treacherous night this was. Head feeling heavy, you began to give into the signs of oncoming slumber, nodding off, cheek approaching shoulder, earring brushing over bare skin.

Mingi was not one for breaking the law, but his accelerator most certainly was. Rushing past every traffic light as though each one was a checkpoint, he sped through the city’s sleepless streets, only the final destination being his priority. Heart pounding, he barely looked at the navigator on his phone as he slammed on the gas. Ridiculous. Radical. If he were to ever tell his friends about this, they would call him a fool. After two weeks of nothing, for him to jump at the first call - he was clearly making the same mistakes, every turn a wrong one. If scouting clubs for the next pleasure hit was your addiction, burning himself on your flames was his. In the icy silence his days had been serene, and he hated it. There was no expectation, nor any hope for him to cling to. In the morning after you had left, even though Mingi had anticipated this and promised himself that he would not be upset, his preference was clear: it was better to live in an illusion rather than face the fact of not being wanted, and never standing a chance. You had turned your attention to him when he had asked for you to use him - that was the place he should have known and stayed if he wished for you to ever look in his direction again. 

That was why when his phone lit up with your name, and a photo filled the screen, one that he had taken of you when you, him, Wooyoung and San had all gone to a nature reserve for a spontaneous weekend getaway which you probably did not remember but it was precious to him, he threw sleep out of the window. It was easy enough, considering his recent pre-sleep routine of rationalising the events of that night. His mind was already trained on you when he finally got you to speak. You were floating, not quite like yourself, but your feelings were clear - not a hint of malice towards him, dreamy, rendering him breathless.

Mingi blamed himself for not being persistent enough, instead choosing to take a step back and give you whatever space you wanted or needed. He had done that in university when you were still friends, he had done it right up until that night, it was nothing new. Let you forget him until you suddenly craved his company, or felt it necessary to invite him to whatever function you had scheduled. Running a hand through his hair, short and strawberry blonde, hints of pink across the strands giving way to darker roots, he tried to calm his nerves. It was torturous to picture you in a vulnerable state, on a night when you normally felt and looked invincible. But since you called him, it was his duty to ensure that this held true.

Only a couple of minutes later, Mingi found the required street and, upon making a turn he slowed down and halted beside a figure curled up by the side wall. He cursed himself for not being faster. Panic shot up his spine and across every limb. He made a beeline towards you, shutting the door to the driver’s seat particularly hard in his distress. Assuming the worst, Mingi was in front of you in the matter of seconds, crouching down to peer at your face, noticing the smudged mascara, lipstick traces trailing onto your skin, flushed cheeks, sickly, glazed over and half-lidded eyes. Scowling, he regarded you in your Friday night glory, wondering why you thought you deserved this self-treatment in the first place.

“Y/N.”

No response. You remained stationary, with only your head occasionally threatening to fall to the side, hair snagging on the rough, eroded bricks behind you. Carefully, Mingi reached out, balancing himself on his bent knees, and pushed back a lock that was obscuring your face, convincing himself that you looked better already. Heart aching, he tried calling out to you another time, and then another, naively hoping that you could ascend from your state in an instant. As he put his hands on your delicate shoulders, gingerly tilting you forwards and away from the freezing, disgusting wall, he bit back his logic and chose to listen to the senses that you had so easily manipulated. 

Was this really the same person who had him wrapped around her finger? Malleable, putty in his hands you sank into his hold as he wiggled back to try and get you to find your own footing. Rising into a standing position, he lifted you up, sighing in relief when, even if only automatically, you followed the movement. He wanted to be mad at you - his brain was yelling for him to leave, return to the comfort of his home, alone, and let you figure things out for yourself. That was easy - just forget about you and have no morals. Sure. You were in a dangerous situation. But did you not have any friends who could take care of you? Where were they? Head turning side to side as if that would give him an answer, Mingi checked his surroundings. Only a collection of strangers, some of whom were enjoying the free entertainment, at least until they felt his glare settling on them. Quick feet on the pavement, dissipating into the midnight darkness.

“Oh… oh…” you groaned, as though waking up from a restless slumber. In his surprise Mingi nearly slipped, only just managing to support you again by hooking his arms around your torso instead of under your arms.

“Y/N, you are like, drunk drunk.”

“Just a lit-tle tipsy… is all, Mingi darling,” you answered slowly, lifting a hand to pinch your thumb and index finger together to show just how sober you were apparently - if only the move was coordinated, then maybe at least it could have given a good laugh. 

The affectionate pet name was ringing in his head, and no matter how much, and with what strength he was trying to brush it off, the buzzing persisted. Clinging onto him, a vexatious beast, echoing the weeks that had gone by after he had so willingly given himself up to you. If he were to be honest with himself, he would not be able to forget you even if by some futuristic miracle, he would be able to reset his consciousness. You were his nightmare and his dream, a haze in which he was lost for as long as he was alive. Cursing himself over and over, he opened the rear door closest to the two of you, whispering his sequence of moves out loud, knowing full well that you were probably not observing, nor listening.

The only thing on your mind was the comfort that was Mingi himself. How he had pulled you closer, and your hands landed on his broad chest. Hands snaking under the varsity jacket he put over a cotton tee, you felt your fingers warming up, the toned, sculpted beauty underneath turning into an alluring stability. There was nothing stopping you from closing the space, was there? Squinting, you took in his face, gasping as he turned away from you, revealing his side profile. Glasses, perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, ever so slightly parted lips, a determined scrutiny of whatever it was that was in front of him. You could almost taste it. Apparently, it was easy to forget prior losses when the one you had been searching for in other bodies appeared before you.

Certainly, it had to have been him at the club however long ago. It had to have been, you were only looking for him and got lost, right? Fully convinced that you were right, despite Mingi being dressed more for a late night walk along a river bank rather than for a night of clubbing and hedonistic debauchery, you mumbled, cowering while he was trying to turn you and get you to take a seat:

“I missed you… Mingi.”

Eyes still half closed, you tilted your head to look in the approximate direction of your saviour, or companion… friend? It could not be. There ceased to be any lines that you could cross, and you were, for the first time in a long time, okay with it. You did not need nor want the barriers, not when his perfume was your salvation, not when his strong hands were rubbing your upper arms, not when you watched him take off his jacket and wrap it around you in slow motion. It was warm. He was warm. But he was not responding. The quiet was deafening as he nudged your legs, motioning for you to hop further into the vehicle - so you were in a car, huh? A couple of thuds somewhere below you, and a pair of heels manifested themselves on the floor of the salon. Obliging, you fell back inside and saw the light shutting itself away from you. A click, and you were alone. Trapped. There was no Mingi. 

Wrapping your hands around the edges of the thick material, you pulled it tighter around you, emulating an embrace. Why were you left alone? Was this a prank? Was Mingi tricking you? Question after question, there were too many to answer in the midst of an oncoming headache, but you knew that you needed to leave this instant - Mingi was outside and he had to be waiting for you. After all, you needed to give him back his jacket. You were done running backwards. Just as you ran a hand over the door, looking for the right handle or button or whatever the car could possibly have, another door opened, revealing the same man, your same Mingi, still dressed in the same outfit as you had just seen, still in those glasses that suited him so well. 

Through the gap between the headrest and the main seat, you gleamed at him, reassured that you were no longer abandoned in the metal box. The corner of Mingi’s mouth twitched upwards, though the majority of his response was evidently suppressed. He had to be hiding something. He must be mad at you. This was because you had been gone for too long, and then reappeared drunk out of your mind - he had said so himself. His voice boomed in your ears, blooming into a deafening echo that muted the car’s engine. Only once the car started did the realisation hit you - you had no idea that he even drove. The last night you had been together, you had taken a taxi, and he was sitting right next to you - you could recall every touch on your skin, over your dress, his ragged, shallow breaths. You needed to sleep, this was a dream… a dream… it had to be a nightmare… you were planning on talking to Mingi tomorrow… you would call him as soon as you woke up from this discord…

Crawling through the metropolis, the car stormed farther and farther from the district which you had decided to mark as your place of shipwreck. It was not the same location as before, he noted, now having more of an opportunity to piece together what had unfolded. If he was any more cynical and any less in love with you, he would have made it a case to point out that probably you intentionally had selected a spot that was a considerable distance away from your usuals because hell or heaven forbid your friends would stop you. Mingi had no clue as to what occurred in the time you were non-existent in his daily life, but evidently it had taken a considerably negative toll. Passed out on the back seats, you were exhausted by the world in which you lived, the world which was mercilessly testing you and draining you for all you were worth.

Stopped at a lonely red light, the hue crept through the windshield, settling over the salon and the two lost souls contained within. Quickly taking out his phone to check the time - no longer needing it for navigation after having the route imprint itself in his memory, he pinched the bridge of his nose, careful not to let the glasses slip. It was almost one in the morning - the commotion and additional steps because of your inebriated state had accumulated, long leaving the last day of the so-called work week behind. Happy weekend - with a bitter aftertaste, he uttered the words under his breath, shoving the phone back in the pocket of his jeans and shifting to turn around to take a quick look at you. You were peaceful, your features fully relaxed. Your purse had turned into something of a pillow, and while your legs could not exactly rest comfortably on the seats, you appeared to be blissful how you were, nuzzled into his jacket. Drifting in his musings, studying your every detail Mingi almost did not notice the lights change, relying solely on instinct to switch gears and move forward. With one last glance, he continued his journey, realising that he was not sure where your home was. Driving you to your closest friends was not an option either, considering that you did not mention nor call them - and if you did not want to see them, he should not be the one to orchestrate a falling out. There was always time for drama, but he did not want to extend it for himself.

Making one final, decisive turn that would take him to his neighbourhood, Mingi gripped the steering wheel to curb an accumulating nervousness. It was a sudden pang, a memory lifting itself up from the chaos he had brushed under the carpet after you had spontaneously left. He had not been fully asleep, simply spent and trustful, but everything stopped him from following you. As if a spear had mounted him to the bed - he was nothing more than a feeble bug on display, rotting. There was nothing he could have done, he was sure, except maybe not saying what he had said. In retrospect it was easy to see that those three words had been the final shot in the torn up heart. So, for the better, he was not going to say them, and pretend he never did, if that was what was going to let you sleep better and recover. That night was long in the past, and should be treated as a spectre. As weeks would go by perhaps you could look at him again, and be genuine in your feelings towards him. And he would not have to put himself up for sacrifice to gain your attention. 

Soon enough, his apartment building was in sight, and the wheels rolled him closer and closer to his next dilemmas. Letting out a trembling breath, Mingi clicked a button on his keys once he approached the gates to the underground parking. You were as still as ever, consumed by your slumber. Coming to a halt at his designated spot, he killed the engine and fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The noises that had crawled out from the club turned into wisps of risk and melancholia, clinging onto your otherwise gorgeous dress and filling the vehicle until that was all he could sense. Hands on the steering wheel, Mingi attempted to plan his next moves, thinking of the trip to the elevator, the ride up, and just how he could convince you to be lucid enough to help him in getting you cleaned up. Love and confusion aside, you were a person who needed help and support, and he was the one you had trusted in your last moments before losing sobriety.

It was a long trip. From you not quite being able to make it out of the car, to you nearly tumbling into the elevator and dragging Mingi down with you, the young man was sure that he had never had to be on such high alert ever in his life. Not even when he had to act in the role of a sleuth to figure out where your lectures had been back in university, and whether there was any way in which your paths could cross. It seemed that now he did not have to force fate’s hand quite as much. With one final stumble over the door frame that marked the entrance to his apartment, you were in, safe and secure from the outdoors, and Mingi could begin thinking more comfortably. Kicking off his own shoes, he ignored the feeling that arose when you intertwined your fingers with his as you waited. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, there was something endearing about you, pleasantly childish qualities protruding through the hardened exterior of an experienced seductress. Like there was still some vulnerability left, and Mingi was the only one to see it. Adjusting his glasses out of habit, or perhaps to mask his growing concern due to your spontaneously peppy disposition, he tugged on your arm, making you follow him past the living room and towards a breakfast bar that served as a divider to the kitchen. Stopping mid-stride, he turned and pointed for you to take a seat on the sofa.

You had vague recollections of the interior, but the lighting, which remained dim, prevented you from making out any details. After Mingi left your side, you curled your legs under your body and flopped onto the decorative pillows that occupied the right corner. Huddling as if it was your nest, you made yourself comfortable. Without him being right next to you, the sensation of being embraced remained. He was in every thread and every space; you could finally inhale and exhale tranquillity. Clinking of glasses and the sound of pouring piqued your inquisitiveness, albeit fuzzy in the half-consciousness, and you called out to Mingi’s approaching figure, a loopy grin plastered on your face.

“He-hey, let’s get the party started… is that champagne?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s got you… like this?” with the hand that was holding the full glass, Mingi gestured over your body.

“Like how? How am I now?”

“Like a bar after a football match.” he deadpanned, carefully taking a seat next to you and grabbing your hands. Upon ensuring the cup was secure in your grasp, he fell backwards to rest his head on the back of the couch, momentarily shutting his eyes. He was curious if you would be able to figure out that what you were about to drink was water.

“Huh? You’re mean…” mumbling to yourself, you lifted the beverage, taking a tentative sip. The cool liquid soothed you, eliminating the burning that occupied your mouth and throat for however long you had been in and out of the handmade turmoil. Greedily you took a gulp, another, until nearly all the water travelled to nourish your dehydrated, fatigued self. The cup, too, possessed a welcome coldness, refreshing, a change to the static that was rolling like thunder in your cranium. You could not resist the temptation to put the glass against your temple, sensing another wave of the dull ache returning to you.

“How much did you drink?”

“Interesting question. Just drank a whole glass,” you teased, aware that Mingi was likely after a different response, but you were all for omitting the truth as much as you could.

“I mean out there.”

“Where?”

“The club.”

“Oh… uh… a… a couple here and there.”

“Knowing you, that is like a whole bottle.”

“What can I say? I have a high tolerance.”

“If only you had a better tolerance for other shit,” his comment caught you off guard. Said to no one in particular, but staying suspended in the air, the phrase was less supportive than what you would have hoped for. He was definitely mad. The anxiety that had been resting on your shoulders like a foul beast stirred awake, digging its nails into your skin until the question you asked far too often slipped away from you, throwing you back into your antique patterns, ones you thought you had buried for good.

“Are you mad at me?” you sounded timid, and a hand instantly flew to your mouth, clumsily covering it. Mingi’s eyes shot open, him giving you a once over from his leaned back position. Sitting up, he raised an eyebrow.

“Say what now?”

“I… are you mad at me?”

“Wh-... why would I be?” he cleared his throat, curious as to what you had conjured and were proposing as an interpretation of his actions.

“I… well I… I am too much aren’t I… I am here, you are - wait what time is it? It should be so late, or early… ha, ha, I don’t even… wait so are you not mad at me? But I am just so all over the place and now I am… wait - what time? Is it? Are you supposed to be sleeping, oh my goodness yes you are I am intruding aren’t I, I should be home, wait how did you find me? Were you there with me? Was I doing anything weird oh why did I go tonight I was not supposed to go but no I had to go and forget you know I wanted to forget everything but you kept on coming back are you ma-”

“Y/N-”

You were speeding up, forgetting air, forgetting that you were safe. You imagined yourself to be in the middle of the ocean, clambering for anything to hold on to. But the more you struggled, the less you could see, and yet you could only continue speaking. Faster, faster, filling the emptiness with your every thought as if there was no space neither in your heart nor your mind to keep them close and safe. As if this was a bargaining token or a confession, and Mingi was the one to deliver a final judgement, or to pardon your every sin. You were afraid of what he could do, or maybe not do. The only thing that was vivid enough for you to grasp was the idea that you did not want him to go, and so you were desperately trying to catch every word you had uttered in your past that could possibly deter him. Oxygen was not an option when Mingi, your 'not quite a friend anymore', was on the line.

“Mad at me and I am not even sure why this is happening actually I know exactly why and I am sure this is a dream right now I mean you definitely hate me now maybe not before but surely now I did everything to make you hate me and I am just a mess I probably look the part I am sorry I am sorry I am so-”

“Y/N BREATHE.” with a raised voice, he cut you off. You had not noticed him lift himself off the sofa and move in front of you. He pushed the coffee table further back to give himself more space, and kneeled on one leg while prying the glass from your shaking hands. Though you had ceased to barrage him with sentences of raw dread, your breathing was still shallow, barely spaced out, lungs roaring for more, praying for relief.

Glass left on the table, Mingi’s hands clasped over yours, his gaze unwavering, searching. You could not read him. Everything you possibly wanted to say was bouncing around your skull in a painful flurry, inducing a lump that started to grow in your throat, accumulating mistakes and emotion. You did not deserve to face the man who was in front of you, but even when you tried to break away from his touch, he held on, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Breathe. Let’s count, shall we? Focus on my voice, okay?” Now, inhale, two, three, four-”

Switching approaches, Mingi distracted you. After a couple of rounds of counting, noting your darting glances he asked for you to point out three colours you could see. Three pieces of furniture. Slowing you down, gradually, grounding you until you were only the slightest bit unsteady. 

“I am sorry.” you mumbled, doubling over, forehead against his hands. In shock, Mingi did not retract them, instead staring at how your hair cascaded over your shoulders and down, down like a waterfall, glimmering softly in the night lights that crawled into the room through every window.

“For what?” barely a whisper, only a hint of curiosity in anticipation of hearing something less than pleasant. 

“For leaving,” he replayed the words in his head in utter disbelief. Never had he heard you apologise for disappearing, abandoning, making decisions that put you first. He had gotten used to it, considering it to be a trait that was normal to you, one that those close to you simply had to deal with. The two little words shed a new light, making him wonder just how you felt two weeks ago. You were not done, however, feeling the need to spill the secrets you had been holding, in the intimacy of night, of not having to look at him, “for going out and for thinking strangers could… could-”

“It’s okay… I-”

“How is it okay?” lifting your head, a portrait of misery was revealed. The makeup that had already travelled across to other parts of your face was now starting to etch streams down your cheeks, the tears being the only ones to confidently make their way. Mingi was at a loss, never having been able to predict that this night would end, or begin, like this.

“Well…”

“How? Please… I am… disgusting… Why do I always do this I-”

“Hey. Hey, listen to me,” hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the rolling droplets, Mingi was reaching out for you, calling you back from the abyss into which you wished to fall, “first of all, no behaviour is quote unquote disgusting, you hear me?”

“Uh huh… but… but I hurt people- I… I hurt you…”

“Look, I know we have never had any deep one on ones before, but I know you are hurting. I think that answers quite a few things, doesn’t it?” trying his best to remain rational and calm, Mingi recalled phrases that he had been told many times, had said before, only now they held colossal meaning, weighed down by what had happened. 

“But why are you…”

“What I do is my choice, just like what you do is yours, yeah?”

“But I choose badly… like today at the club I-... I-” you tripped over your words, the recollection forcing you to shudder. Sensing the buildup, Mingi diverted your attention by holding your hands once more.

“So how can you choose better? I mean, let’s think about tomorrow. What were you thinking of doing? Take me through the day. Say, you wake up, you…” he gestured for you to continue after him.

“I… brush my teeth, fix my hair and clothes… make breakfast… call you," you stopped, staring into his dark eyes, shining with bittersweet tenderness. For the first time, he wanted to believe that you indeed were drunk.

“Call me?”

“...I was planning to…”

“Even if you found someone?” The comment stung, but was not unfounded. Mingi knew you far too well for you to deny that you would at least attempt to fill the weekly void.

“I only kissed him… I promise…”

“I,” tightening his jaw repeatedly, Mingi resisted the urge to snap, or to make any accusations. It was obvious to any fool that you had lived through enough without him adding fuel to the hellish fire, “like I said, your choice.”

“I don’t want to make it anymore.”

“Then make another. And keep trying until you find the one that’s right for you.” 

Dumbfounded, you could only look, and wonder if the man in front of you was real and was not figuring out ways to throw you out of his apartment. The idea could not be further from the truth. While he had to admit that the circumstances were not particularly romantic, nor was Mingi about to take every word and action as gospel, but this had to be the most candid he had ever seen you be, and the most open with him. Behind the gloss of a night fuelled by percentages, shots and bubbly, garnished with regretful actions and hopes for a restart, you were easy to read, your intentions and actions honest and benevolent. 

“I was going to call you,” you reiterated with conviction.

“Tomorrow,” Mingi responded, switching his positioning to sit down on the floor, one hand still holding onto you while the other flew to find purchase on the carpet, offering balance. His thumb traced patterns on your skin absent-mindedly while he waited for you to continue.

“Yeah.”

“And what were you going to do?” there was no way to know whether the answer he would hear was one he wanted to, or was ready to hear. Of course, he liked to believe he was used to you, but not to your new feelings.

Had it hurt when he realised that he had been discarded, just like he had anticipated? Of course. Had his closest friend given him an earful after finding him wholly zoned out during their scheduled mid-week lunch? Definitely - the words still stung him. But was Mingi in any way angry with you? He could not be even if he tried. You had stayed true to yourself, and he should be happy that you did. And yet, the hope he had been living with remained persistent, and your present actions were not helping him in getting over it.

“Apologise…” you leaned closer to him, drowsy, freed from inhibition. 

“And?” his voice dropped into a whisper as he could not bear to take his gaze off your and his hands.

The usual you, the alluring, domineering you who had one mission and one mission only on this night: to have a good time at any cost, was starting to resurface. You were grappling with your inner conscious, hoping to resurrect what you had previously labelled as confidence.

“Kiss you,” your act dropped quickly enough as you read the sadness in Mingi’s form, from the droop of the shoulders to the loosening of his hold on you, to the half-hearted joke that made you flush an embarrassing shade of pink. Awful, inducing the desire for the ground to disappear beneath you, but you could not stop.

“Through the phone?”

“No… on… like… a date?” shy, you proposed the idea to him.

“What’s with the questioning tone?” leaning back on both hands, Mingi regarded you. His black-rimmed glasses had slid down allowing him to look over the frame and into your soul, making you shiver. There was a seriousness in the gesture, a cold air of professionalism that you knew Mingi was capable of, but never experienced being directed at yourself. 

“I don’t know… I haven’t dated in a while I guess…” finding interest in the hem of your dress, you fiddled with the thick fabric.

“What’s got you so into it now?”

“My choice,” you echoed his words, earning an amused smirk. After a meek pause, you pushed out the inquiry, barely audible, “Would you kiss me back?”

“Depends on what you’re feeling when you kiss me.”

“But you said you loved me, didn’t you? Mingi?” you straightened yourself up, feigning nonchalance, pretending to not be hurt by the passivity that rested on Mingi’s face as he studied you. 

He wished he could make this easy and lead the conversation to a happy end, but that would only end in turmoil. Whatever you remembered, and whatever was so fresh in your mind could change in the blink of an eye, and later, in the morning, sober you could begin to despise yourself, and him in one go. The last thing he needed was for you to disappear from his life. So, it was better to restart. He bit his tongue for a couple of moments, swallowing every phrase that he had ceaselessly been repeating like mantras meant only for his walls to hear and hold no judgement towards, and selected denial, for your own benefit.

“...No such thing.”

“But I swear I-”

“I think it’s time to clean up and sleep, yeah?” he cut you off with searing neutrality. Rising from the floor, he flicked his hands for you to follow his actions. Though you had recovered enough to balance on your own, at least if you were to take everything slow, you were stuck in place, wanting to hear what you had been secretly longing for to spill from his lips.

“But, wait I-”

“Sleep time,” adamant to move past the painful hurdle, Mingi reiterated the implied command. Moving to grab your hand, he lifted you from the sofa, only to let go once you were on your feet. Taking the opportunity, you took small fistfuls of his t-shirt, pulling the stunning man towards you. If he could not speak the words, surely he would want to express them?

“Kiss me now?” The question sounded more like an offer. Like you were placing your attention for sale, thinking that this was enough to establish a connection.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

Mingi wanted to collapse. Your eyes, the tremble in your voice, how you looked with his jacket still draped over your shoulders had him wrapped around your finger. He did want to kiss you, a little too much, if he were to be honest. And that was exactly why he backed away. If you had meant what you confessed, you would be able to say the same thing in the morning, and to his face. If you had been meaning to call him, you would be able to call out his name and be honest in wishing to see him, to be with him.

“I’ll kiss you when you’re fully sober, okay?” The negotiation seemed to work as you visibly relaxed and let him guide you to the bathroom, where he began to point out the makeup wipes, the towels, ignoring the fact that you had figured out the layout on your own some time ago and probably had some rough recollection.

“What a gentleman,” you uttered while roughly smudging your makeup with remover, not caring for the audience of one who was leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, watching you to make sure that you did not hurt yourself nor ruin anything too badly.

“It’s the bare minimum.”

“I suppose… I… uh… shower? Yeah?”

“Oh yeah… wait I’ll bring you some clothes or something. Do you mind what?”

“Whatever you are okay with giving me, darling.”

Hissing to himself, Mingi adjusted his glasses and clutched the jacket you returned in his right hand. He ambled to his bedroom in search of something that would inevitably end up smelling like you and serve as another reminder of just how easily he could give himself up for this kind of closeness. If he were to let his eyelids fall like a protective blanket, he could pretend for a split second that this was how it had always been - domestic, sweet, uncomplicated. Head turned away, Mingi returned, only to see your clothes not so neatly strewn about on the heated tiles. His eyes moved on their own accord, to settle on your silhouette, moving slowly behind the shower curtain. Despising the fact that he knew your body and craved it like water or air, he left the t-shirt and sweatpants that he had picked out lying in a folded pile by the sink.

Mingi was restless, storming from bedroom to living room and back again, his instinctive decision-making finally catching up to him and crashing down on his consciousness with full force. He had acted rashly, listening only to his heart, and in every point along the turbulent path back home when he could have let go of what was inevitably going to be more pain for you and for him, he selfishly refused to. While moving a pillow and throw to the sofa, he was in awe of his own dedication, and how, for you, he could thoughtlessly abandon everything that his studies had attempted to instil in him over the years, from university to clinical practice.

With a tired hand he took off his glasses, giving the lenses a half-hearted wipe with the edge of his tee, more out of habit than out of need. According to the lazy clock on his wall, it was nearing two o’clock in the morning. He shuddered, and heat rushed to his face. What was he doing two weeks ago at this time? It was best to ignore that and start anew. You were just a friend who by some twist of fate he ended up getting to know a little too intimately. But if exes could become friends, surely you two could work out, even if in your drunk state you were exposing feelings that were potentially resonant with his - obviously far from platonic. Mingi shook his head, ultimately failing to banish his optimism. He needed coffee, anything to get his mind off things, maybe his work emails.

In the middle of his preparations, also known as remaining idle while the coffee machine worked its magic, you reappeared from the bathroom, freshened up, cheeks pink, and dressed in his clothes, which, he hated to say, looked too good on you. The t-shirt he had picked out, originally oversized even for him, perfectly draped over your curves; hinted at everything, revealed nothing. A couple of dark spots where water from your hair had dripped onto the soft cotton made the scene all the more homely, comfortable, and the only thing holding him back from sweeping you into an impossibly tight hug was the grey that befell your unlabelled relationship with him. Mingi was a man of logic, preferring to set things up onto metaphorical shelves, and in his work he was known to be a brilliant theorist, consulted on matters of analysis and diagnostics. The idea of a situationship, no strings attached and any other synonyms irked him, and the more he looked at you, and how you gazed at him so serenely, the more he wanted to put his foot down and ask you to decide. But if you had set your mind on tomorrow - or as the clocks were saying later today, he had to do what he did best - wait. It had been two weeks. What would a few more hours do except give you time to sober up and figure out what it was that you wanted from him and yourself?

“All better?” Who was he asking? Thankfully, you interpreted it as a question directed at you. 

“Much better… sorry I am so out of it. Probably saying shit.”

“Don’t worry. I am just glad you are safe.”

“Mingi,” his name on your lips, the sweetest poison for his heart, “...thank you darling, really. I… hm, just thinking about what could have happened…”

“No need to think. About that, I mean.”

“And what should I think about?” raising an eyebrow, you captured the accidental slip of his musings in your delicate hands, subjecting it to scrutiny.

“Sleep.”

“You said that before. Besides, coffee? Really?”

“For me. I sleep better with coffee.”

Sure.”

“You can uh… I moved my stuff so you can sleep in the bedroom.”

“What about-”

“I’ll be right here.”

“I mean… we… didn’t we…” you wanted to allude to the bed having been shared before.

“I am here. You are there. Cool?” With the last of the americano having dripped into his cup, Mingi raised the hot beverage to take a careful sip, wincing as the liquid nearly burned his mouth. At least it served as a good distraction, just as he wanted.

“Mm… sorry. ‘Night.”

Spinning on your heels, you made a beeline for the bedroom, not waiting for Mingi’s response. Rejection after rejection; you smiled to yourself as you regarded the white sheets, decorated with a silvery sheen from the lights outside, washed over by a warm glow of the reading lamp positioned on the bedside table farthest from you. Welcoming, kind. Like the man who was now drinking coffee at hell o’clock in the morning, all because of you. The man who gave you his own clothes without a second thought. The man who kept on giving to a person who kept on taking. As you collapsed onto the sheets, crawling underneath the covers with an unprecedented exhaustion, you fell into a dreamless slumber with the thoughts of yourself being like a certain character from a famous animated film that you had watched with your friends, only to rewatch it on your own that same night once you got home. A spirit with no face, only an insatiable appetite, a rage that could not be extinguished - always more, taking from everyone, taking everything. Cloaked in black, a creature of darkness, without a place in society and meant sink into its own misery. You were alone in this world, wishing for the skies to clear, praying you would find the strength to fight for it.

He could not sleep. With the coffee finished but not the slightest hint of drowsiness approaching, Mingi stretched to grab the laptop that had been lying on the coffee table, choosing to go over his work emails that had accumulated from the time he had logged off just a night ago. Chain mail, Friday newsletters, reminders, rescheduling, appointment bookings, cancellations, conferences, journal updates, editor reviews… so much noise that settled like ash on his eyes, amounting to what appeared to be nothing. Segments of an imaginary success that drained him of any desire to show up on Monday. After answering what he could, Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose, and lied down on the couch, balancing the laptop on his stomach. He had foregone the throw, finding it to be more of a hindrance to his constant movement. What was it that he had told quite a few of his patients? Sleep was essential for a sound mind? Comical. Perhaps it was time to consult someone for his own troubles. He was good enough at solving things for others, but unfortunately that did not seem to apply when the ‘others’ was himself. If only he could stop concentrating on your presence in the room right next to him, on whether you were sleeping soundly and if you needed anything.

It was a quiet rustling that had woken Mingi up from a quick nap that he had fallen into. After a moment of disorientation, he registered the sound as being your footsteps, inching around the sofa in the approximate direction of the kitchen.

“Escaping?” recoiling as though you had been struck, you halted. After having been buried under a cosy duvet, the apartment felt cold, and you could barely hold back the shiver that was threatening to run over you. 

“Water… sorry did I wake you up?”

“Nah, wasn’t sleeping anyways. Here let me get it for you.”

Without another word uttered, nor any glances which could plant seeds of doubt in your head about his intentions, Mingi was right there with you, leading you to your target and pouring a glass. You did not mind how he watched you handle the item, nor how he took it out of your grasp as soon as you were done. He was gentle, even though each move did appear to be pre-calculated and strictly bound by a larger, all-encompassing decision. You tried to reach out for him, and when he stepped away after noticing you in the peripherals, the point was proven. Mingi was seeking distance. Biting your lower lip, the echoes of an earlier anxiety bubbled, manifesting itself in your classic black and white thinking.

“I am a mess,” like a coin dropped in a well, the phrase bounced from every wall, right back to you.

“Break that down for me,” crossing his arms, Mingi turned around and leaned against the counter.

“Are you going therapy mode on me?” you tried to joke, but the words came across more as an accusation. You felt weak, exposed. The shiver escaped, goosebumps now decorating your flesh, causing what you interpreted as pity to flash in Mingi’s eyes.

“I’m assuming that is what you’re seeking now, no?”

“...no.”

“Okay.”

As if the conversation had never begun, Mingi returned to drying his hands, leaving you alone with an unpleasant sobriety. With the early morning returned fragments of memories - a highlight reel of things you probably should not have said, but now that you had to own up to and either confirm or keep running away from. Inhale, exhale, and the words poured by themselves.

“Can we… talk about something?”

“Something?”

“I think… I… you know how I… wait I did say I was planning to call you right?”

“Mhm,” Mingi turned back, regarding you with an unreadable expression.

“So I have said a lot of things,”

“Yeah, and, what do you want to say to me?”

“I’m… sorry.”

“You already said it.”

“I mean it.”

“I know. What else?”

“Help me.”

“With… what?”

“I am afraid.”

“Of?”

“How I feel.”

“And how is that?”

“Well…”

You paused, throat drying. Your body recoiled from what you had settled on admitting. But it had to happen, even if the result would be you never seeing Mingi again, because at least you would have done something to try and defeat yourself. After hearing the three little words, and having them repeat over and over again, the light in which you saw your own life and saw Mingi had shifted. He could not be that same happy, naive, angel-like friend from university who had somehow ended up in your company of misfits and comrades in melancholy to you anymore. For the first time, you wanted to place a significance on a relationship that was beyond one night in a stranger’s bed. 

“I am afraid… that I- I-”

“What you are about to say, did you weigh it up? Did you consider it? Evaluate it? Are you sure that what you are about to share, and will be unable to reverse, is done with a clear mind?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to say it to me.”

“Yes, Mingi.”

You reached for his hands, worry making you play with his slightly cold fingertips. Intertwined, swinging side to side the tiniest bit, like a swaying of a sleepy willow; either the beginning, or the end. Mingi took a deep breath, as though preparing himself to be brutally smited.

“Then, um, as you were saying?”

“I want to fall in love with you.”

A laugh involuntarily flew from his chest, like a slap across your face. When you tried to slide past him, however, his arm wrapped around your upper body, pulling you close.

“Want to? What does that mean?” With prior seriousness being replaced by a more playful tone, the calm evaded you, “hey, take your time, it’s fine. You are already doing really, really well.”

“May I hug you?”

“Sure, c’mere,” he was the sun in late summer, the rays lulling, soothing. A glistening gold palette illuminated by a well-paired cologne that you were already wearing after resting in his bed, a masterpiece that you wanted to sink into and never escape. The horrors of the night that never stopped repeating were crawling away into their putrid caverns, providing at least a temporary relief and returning you to the waking, beautiful world. Mingi was comfortable in the best sense of the description, a stability that you had never dared to dream of. You pressed your head against him, shutting yourself away from cacophonous intrusions that had been leading you every Friday.

“You said you loved me.”

“Don’t remember,” the vibrations across his torso as he spoke soothed some of the pain inflicted by his answer. You could not blame him. Perhaps you two were much more similar than you had initially thought.

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“A lot.”

“A lot.”

“Can you help me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Some things you should face yourself, I can only point you in the right direction. I can see that this goes beyond anything that either of us could mention or explore right now, and I hate to say it but there is no magic cure or something. It takes time and effort,” Mingi wrapped his arms tighter, one hand starting to pat the back of your head absent-mindedly, focusing on the sensation of each strand against his palm, “but what I can do is be here. For you. And if you want to, for us. How does that sound?”

“Like it’s too good to be true. I don’t deserve you.”

“No one deserves anyone. We just fit together, and we will make things work. Step by step,” Mingi made it sound easy. You wanted to believe him.

“We?”

“You just said you want to fall in love with me, Y/N. We kind of… need to be together for that to happen, methinks.” 

“Good point.” you mumbled, snuggling closer, hiding your face.

“May I be honest for a second?”

“Mhm.”

“I am not saying it so that we say it together when you’re ready, cool?”

“Say what?”

“You know, the L word,” you looked up to see him wiggling his eyebrows dramatically, making you chuckle.

“Oh… thank you, Mingi. I appreciate it. Yeah. Makes sense.”

In the tranquillity of the early dawn, you were not alone. Not curled up on the floor, a stranger to yourself, but in the arms of someone who cared and his feelings remained unchanged through times you thought anyone could, and would abandon you. You could finally hear your own thoughts becoming clear and level. Nothing could be better than the hope for such a bright tomorrow.

“Hmm… I think I liked when you were calling me darling in every sentence,” with a flick of your wrist you lightly hit Mingi’s broad chest, without pulling away. 

“I did not-”

“Are you not sober, darling?” he made you pause your denials, a sunny smile on his face.

“Okay fine yes I did…”

“Care to say it again?” taken by surprise by the request, you were left open-mouthed, with a raised brow.

“Darling?”

“Music to my ears,” he answered while barely being able to stifle a yawn.

This was the closest Mingi could get to a fairy tale moment with you, and he could not be happier. A grin fought its way to the surface, until it practically hurt his cheeks, and he pressed you to his chest, just so that you would not see it. But it did not take someone to be especially hyper-observant to sense his glee, capable of melting the snow in the harshest winter. Perhaps it was foolish of him to admit this, but nothing felt more right. How your body melded into his, perfectly unified. How your heart beat at a gentle pace, in time with his, and how your steady breathing tickled his skin - a constant reminder of your electrifying proximity.

“Sleepy?”

“Mmm… a bit.”

“Maybe a change of…” you glanced at the couch, “location would do you some good?” detangling yourself, the suggestion was made with a simple turn of the head, which Mingi agreed to with a curt nod, and a removal of his glasses.

Though it was his apartment and technically you were the guest, he was the one following you, like always. Shying away from your gaze as he rapidly changed into sweatpants and a tee that were other than those he had worn during his midnight expedition to retrieve you from the club, making you giggle and cover your eyes with a dramatic swoop of the hand, he was back at your mercy in these four walls. Playing with fire, he lied down on the bed next to you, counting to steady himself. Glasses left on the bedside table, he stared at the soft blur of the ceiling, admiring how soft the light of the earliest dawn looked without the myriad of details that otherwise occupied the material it fell upon. Mingi debated with himself whether what he was allowing was appropriate, and whether it would inevitably lead to what he had been secretly hoping for. He could not lie, not to himself at least - he still wanted you, and now, with the avenue towards the prospects of a relationship having been opened, the wishes were becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore. Not when you were right there beside him, obviously studying the contours of his face, tracing the gorgeous lines that its silhouette formed and thanking the heavens for having the ability to take in and memorise Mingi. 

Oddly enough, in the semi-darkness of the bedroom - a place that was supposed to be the most intimate and exposing, you felt confidence return to you like the gust of a reviving spring wind. With every inhale and exhale, the familiar strength regained its capability, and led you to place a hand on Mingi’s chest, and while still keeping up a coy act, to run a lone finger down its middle, stopping right at the abdomen. Muscles tensing under your touch, Mingi sighed. Clearly, sleeping was not on your agenda whether you wanted it or not. Your habits, perfected over years, were advising you to act, and do so now. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for him, he shared the same desire.

“What’s up?” he mumbled, head rolling to the side to find you already looking right at him.

“You’re far.”

“We are literally on the same bed.”

“No, but you are far. You get me?” a tentative leg over his, hooking around and serving as a lever to pull you closer to him. It was too natural, how Mingi’s arm stretched out and let you cuddle into him, acting as a pillow.

“I suppose. What do you want to do about it?”

“This,” tracing along his jawline, you prompted him to turn. You were close, way too close for him to not hold his breath as you came into focus - the one person he could always see, even when you were not physically with him. 

Mingi resisted. As much as he was seeking the same contact, the tinge of regret for giving his heart up so easily was prominent, a scalding hot iron. It was too much - lying under the blanket of agitated stillness, pressure coiling at an astonishing speed as your eyes turned into the one universe he could care to exist in. Without realising it, he had turned towards you for a better angle, placing himself on your altar. Fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin under his ear, gently running through his blonde locks. Every brush of your hand against him was an unbearable fire, melting him into submission; nothing more than a servant in the sultry fog. It was impossible to answer how you were able to do this, and why Mingi was allowing you to, but just like everything else, it felt right, regardless of how dark the future could be. In what you had proclaimed to be a ‘mess’, he felt alive, human. For some, addiction was measured in degrees and in there being less and less memories as time went by - for him, it was in the syllables of your name, in the taste of your lips when he could not hold back any longer and closed the gap between you, sighing as the he could finally relive the sensation that had been haunting him every minute, be he asleep or awake.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, a bouquet of recollection and reminiscence as if you had been two souls torn apart for centuries. Mingi’s nose lightly brushed against your skin as he tilted his head to deepen the intimacy, his hands moving to hold you closer. The last time, each sense was charged with an undercurrent of carnal desire, and lust had revealed a palette of dark hues, while now, even with the rising intensity and Mingi’s hold drifting to find purchase on your hips, the scene was light. Instead of sacrificing yourselves to the night, you were defeating it, greeting your own dawn. It was an awe-inspiring hallucination, leaving you dazed and desiring more. Hooking your leg more tightly over Mingi’s thigh, you shuddered, the breathiest moan escaping you as an unexpected friction revealed your unwinding state, consumed by the man from whom you were done running. Breaking away to press your forehead against his and indulge in the shared oxygen, a hint of dizziness made you chuckle. Peppering a couple of kisses on his cheek, only to return to the same position, eyelashes almost touching, the lack of space proving to be the ultimate comfort, you whispered:

“I want this forever,” meaning every word, at least when ‘forever’ meant ‘for now’. You did not know yourself, or the new self you wanted to craft, so you could not make any promises just yet. But this was good enough. It was honest and raw.

“Take me on a date first,” Mingi teased with a wink. Caressing his cheek, you kissed the tip of his nose, making him scrunch it. 

“What a precious princess,” you chuckled, leaning over to close the space once again, ignited by the beautiful sounds that were muted by you, a most delectable fruit.

Desire on the tongue, truth on the teeth, love staining the lips a deeper pink as you fell into Mingi, giving into his tug at your waist to hover above him. This, however, did not last long as he grew more impatient, pressing you against his body, wriggling upwards until he was half-seated on the bed, and you, on his thigh. Your initial instincts were telling you to move, but as he adjusted his seating once more, muscle brushing against your growing excitement, you quickly decided against it, instead settling on his leg, grinding into it to check for Mingi’s reaction. Judging by the way his hand snaked to the nape of your neck, fingers lost in your tresses as he could not get enough of you, this was a welcome change. He was responsive, in tune with you, allowing you to take the lead. Momentarily standing up on your knees, you backed up to take off the sweatpants you had been wearing, feeling the heat in your core rising to embrace you in a seductive haze.

With glazed over, darkened orbs Mingi watched you, each breath an adrenaline-filled shudder. Freed from the cotton confines, with only the fine material of your panties left to contain the building arousal, you cupped Mingi’s face to give him a deep kiss until you lost all air, whispering instructions only once you had your fill. Promptly, he was in the same state of undress, more so when you cautiously hooked the base of his t-shirt, longing to see the body that was so perfect with yours. When you wanted to mirror the action, his expression changed to that of a miniscule panic, almost instantly replaced by an endearing shyness and a bitten lower lip.

“Can you… keep the shirt on?”

“You like to see me in your clothes, Mingi?” You were comfortable saying his name in other settings, sure, but in the semi-darkness of his bedroom, it occurred to you just how vulnerable the act was, capturing another’s attention with the simple collection of characters, echoing from wall to wall and resonating in the listener’s ears. But if you were to be an improved version of yourself, someone who had real control as opposed to the farce you had been parading around with, you needed to at least make a little bit of an effort to be aware of Mingi, find him in your pleasure and make him your focus. You were too used to taking centre stage and pushing others away for it. 

“More than I’d like to admit,” voice husky, he groaned as your lips found his neck, retracing, not needing pointers to find the places that drove your newly established lover wild, “Ah… if you are o-okay with it-”

His hands, now back on your hips, gave you a timid squeeze, reaffirming the rapture which your present outfit threw him into. Mingi had assumed that you were at your most beautiful when those dresses designed to seduce adorned your curves, highlighting and accentuating what he swore was divinity, but nothing could have prepared him for this sight, and the effect that it had on him. Whether it was on purpose or not, but his name being uttered so teasingly as you seeked an outlet for your sensual frustration, while you were in his shirt, in his room, having slept in his bed, it all sent him into a frenzy. He wanted to mark you, make you his, hear you say everything you never could to him while he would bring you heaven and make you see stars. 

“More than okay, darling, I love it,” nibbling at the soft skin, you smirked as Mingi emitted a groan, hands squeezing your ass. This prompted you to continue, and you sat back down, desperate for stimulation that your covered clit against his thigh could offer. 

“Is this how you want me, doll?” the pet name sent a jolt through you and you let out a shaky breath, leaving yourself to be supported by an equally taken Mingi, whose growing bulge was now poking against your knee.

“Doll?”

“Only fair I call you something pretty, hm? Unless you want to…” he trailed off, recalling the roles that you had taken previously.

“I want to take it slow with you right now,” you kissed him, lazily moving your hips, the material getting more soaked with each glide, “will you let me?” when he did not immediately give an answer, you palmed at the prominent hardness, asking again just as Mingi let out an airy moan, chasing the contact, “will you let me take care of you?”

“Fu-ck, yes…”

“So good for me- ah!” with a yelp, you shuddered when Mingi’s hand dragged your panties to the side to get a better view of the slick, not caring for the glistening fluid staining his leg. With a few tentative rolls of his thumb over your clit, he decided that he should help you reach your high first, attracted to how you lost yourself in his touch.

“Want to use my thigh to get yourself off that badly?”

“N-no I am going to take c- fuck,” head lolling back, you could only focus on the accelerating fingers over your sensitive nub, teasing its very tip and coated in your precum, stopping spontaneously. You whined, earning yourself a furrowing of the brows and a glint of surprise in Mingi’s gaze.

“Thought you said no?”

It clicked in your head, and the tinge of anger rapidly dispelled, instead being replaced by a warm endearment. You ran a hand through his beautiful hair, planting a kiss on his cheek before answering:

“I don’t want to make you work too hard today.”

“I like to see you like this though…” he mumbled, chasing after another taste of your plush lips.

“How? Unwinding because of your hand? Your thigh? Do you like to make me feel good?” with a few nods, you let him continue by tapping his upper arm. As soon as he resumed the action, in time with your rocking, you let yourself go fully, thinking only of the man who was below you. Nothing, nor anyone else came to mind.

Mingi was observing you carefully, your moans turning to sweet music, "Yes, Mingi, just like that-" 

"You look so beautiful, doll, fucking yourself on me. Could you be," he paused his ministrations - a light tremble of muscle a telltale sign of your approaching climax, "...any more perfect?"

Praise shot into your heart and your core, an overwhelming electric shock. You perceived yourself guilty and undeserving of this worship, and yet could not bear to hear anything else from Mingi's lips - you were sure that it would be your demise. Arms thrown over his shoulders, you attempted to speed up your movements, the action proving a challenge due to the accumulating tension. Your head fell forwards, forehead against Mingi’s collarbone as he took to guiding you, hand carefully positioned on the small of your back while the other rolled up and down your aching clit, each touch closer and closer to sending you over the edge.

“Dar-ling I-”

“Are you close, Y/N?” Why did your name have to sound so sweet when he said it?

“Ah- y-yeah…” Mingi was craving for relief to the point of dizziness, grasping at you for the most minimal support. Precum coated the inner side of his underwear, member at full mast as he toyed with your sopping pussy.

“Come over me, doll, please, beautiful, show me what I can do to you,” the request was a fire, deliciously weak and exposing. You looked up at Mingi, disarmed by the kindness of his expression, and peppered a couple of kisses around his lips, too disoriented to find the original target.

With one final rock of the hips, and Mingi’s fingers curling into you and gliding between your folds, you collapsed into unfathomable bliss, a lewd moan resonating from you while the orgasm left you shaking in Mingi’s strong arms. He let you ride out your high by keeping your hips from fully bucking, instead setting a steadily decreasing pace and soothing you through the overstimulation from your continued contact with his leg. He nuzzled against your cheek, following the action with a reassuring:

“I got you,” pulled you into embracing the angel of your life.

The hints of a rising sun began to trickle into the room, just barely leaving a pattern on the carpet and transforming the light in the room into a pale lavender and pink. This was the earliest, and the latest, that you had ever been with anyone after your ritualistic ‘night out’, and courteously reminded you of the occurrences that brought you back to Mingi. Upon your descent from the decadent oblivion, embarrassment struck and you pressed yourself against his body, sighing in relief when he hugged you tight. His hardness was impossible to ignore, and a part of you felt terrible for not repaying the pleasure he had given you just yet, but judging by the way in which you could feel his fingers trace abstract shapes on your back, and after one glance to one side, and then to the other, how he kept himself immersed in his senses, concentrating on you, he could hold out for a little longer. 

“Mingi?”

“Mm?”

“You did make me feel good. Really, really good,” uncharacteristically meek, the sentence sounded almost like an announcement, making him chuckle, but the smile that melted across his features was genuine and pure. Loving.

“Happy to hear it. And I am happy that you are feeling like this, Y/N.”

“May I…?” a ghostly caress of his erection, a shaky breath, a playful, lop-sided grin with glossed over eyes.

“And here I was thinking that you like bossing people around, hm?”

“Would you rather I did?” touch turned grasp, a finger playing with the waistband of his boxers while your voice dropped into a dangerous tone, serpent-like, sultry.

“I like new things, I want to get to know you better, gorgeous.”

“Let’s do just that then, though… I’ll need a little,” having regained full function of your legs, you slipped from the position over his thigh to be on your knees between his legs, centred, “assistance. Talk to me, darling, what do you like?”

“I-” with a swift motion, you snaked your hand into his boxers, taking out his erect member and giving it a tentative stroke.

There were no thoughts which he could vocalise aside from hoping that you would never stop. Your thumb circled over his reddened tip, coating itself in the fluid. You barely moved your hand, continuing to give special attention only to the head of his stiffened cock, making Mingi try to wriggle to get more friction. With a push on his pubic bone, you freeze him.

“Now, don’t get too impatient, first I need these boxers off, okay? I’ll help,” you let go of his member, tugging at the material and following Mingi’s quick lift of his lower half, pulled them down and off, leaving the stunning man bare and ready to respond to your every move and command. 

You truly wanted to fall in love with him. Those glistening eyes that rolled back slightly just before he closed them, unfathomable bliss revealed only to you, were a paradise that you would not mind floating in forever. He had full trust in you, breathy moans freely falling from his lips as you started to stroke his cock, having added some of your own spit to his pre-cum for lubrication. His every detail was a heavenly design that you could not believe nature had crafted, from body to mind, and here he was, giving it up to you. You regarded the telltale sheen of sweat that began to form on his smooth skin, giving him an angelic appearance in the haze of the early morning. His hands were gripping the bed sheets, knuckles gradually turning paler as you sped up with each pump of his leaking cock. In a moment where you noticed him looking upwards at the ceiling, not registering you, you stopped to give the base a soft squeeze, having an even better idea in mind.

“Mingi?” The call instantly made him dart back to you unfocused but endearingly determined.

“How would you feel about me sucking your dick, hm?”

“H-huh?”

“Only if you want to, darling,” resuming the strokes, albeit at a lazier, dangerously slow speed and making sure to give attention to every vein, you had to practically had to hold yourself back from grinning due to the perplexion decorating Mingi’s face, blended seamlessly with a blazing lust. 

“Are you sure?”

“I can show you, and you decide, deal?”

“Fu-uck yes, deal ye-” answer forgotten in the garbled, divine mess of carnal satisfaction, Mingi watched as you lowered yourself to hover above his member, and gave it a few kitten licks before taking in his tip.

You rolled your tongue over the heat, relishing in Mingi’s taste, and pushed down further until you were midway, and hollowed out your cheeks in time to sense how he twitched at the dizzying warmth. While you were more familiar with a dominant role, particularly one where you prioritised your own pleasure and used others as a form of self-relief - not exactly the most responsible approach but no one had complained yet, but even then you were no stranger to this sensual act. You dragged your tongue against his large erection, spurred on by his groan when you bobbed your head a couple of times before slipping off to give Mingi an inquisitive glance.

“So, what do you say?”

“You are… amazing,”

“I take that as a, ‘yes please, Y/N, continue’?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then say it, darling, so I know,” you grazed a lone finger up his length, admiring just how sensitive it was, “and you can touch me, by the way, you were doing so well before what’s got you so shy now?” you chuckled when a hand that had previously been hovering in your vicinity finally found its place on the side of your face, timidly moving a few strands of hair that you had not noticed threatening to cover your vision. 

“Yes… please, Y/N, continue.”

“So precious.”

It did not take long for you to build him back up and higher again. You were addicted to how he writhed under you but was still careful to not grab onto your locks, instead choosing to repeatedly run his digits through and rest them while you masterfully took him in your mouth. A wanton symphony filled the room, blending every sigh and the sloppy collision of his tip against the back of your throat into a direct stimulation. Your core was growing needy, so much so that with one finger you began to roll over your sensitive clit, echoes of the explosive orgasm still shooting through your nerves but not nearly enough to satiate your evolved hunger.

“I’m going to-”

He pawed at you, while an oncoming wave was about to capture him whole. Mingi’s breathing was ragged and irregular and his head fell back while he struggled to distinguish reality from dreaming in the wake of his crumbling state. Just like he had done in your last encounter, the second before he came stirred in him a final aggression, a desire to prove to himself that he retained some form of power, even though all the signs pointed to the opposite. At least now, you were fully prepared. Throat relaxed and eyes fluttering shut, you let yourself be pushed down onto the throbbing cock with a rough hand, and welcomed the ropes of hot, white cum when they spurted out to coat your mouth, rivulets dripping down your throat and prompting you to swallow. The light tang was suddenly your favourite flavour, and you resumed your pumping, milking Mingi of all his nectar with a greedy forcefulness. He tasted like he was completely yours.

He hit the headboard as he collapsed from the exertion, astonished at how you licked your lips, showing off the emptiness of your mouth as you had swallowed his load. Your cunt ached for more, and you drifted towards Mingi until your chest was pressed against his, ensuring he recalled the fact that you were still wearing his shirt. Not caring for the remnants of his cum on the corners of your mouth, he searched for your lips, sealing them with a long kiss. You used this as an opportunity to lower yourself just enough to have your folds glide over his only just softening member, and deepened the kiss to drown out his gasp. You needed him, and needed him now. Not caring for recovery times, you began to fist his dick roughly, making him tremble underneath you and bite down on his lip.

“Come on, precious, won’t you give me another?”

“A-ah I- please I-”

“What was that?” you separated yourself from him, a smirk dancing on your lips when you sensed a familiar rush racing under skin from the stimulation, and leaned to the side to open the bedside drawer, successfully fishing out a condom. 

“I-”

“Speak up, sweetheart, I am not sure what you’re saying,” it was so easy to tease him, play with his mind, and you liked it too much. Reduced to babble, he shut himself off from further attempts to communicate, submitting to your determination to work him until he was hard again.

When you ceased to pump him and let go, his cock slapped against his skin, leaving behind traces of prior climax and clear promise of another. You removed the condom from the packaging and carefully unrolled it, suddenly struck by how practised this felt with Mingi, as if you knew each other’s bodies better than your own. You would be lying if you were to say you did not have him memorised.

Positioning his tip at your entrance, you sighed and slid him between your folds. One rock of the hips, another, and the condom was coated in your slick, and you began to take the member in, inch by inch into your fluttering heat, mouth ajar as you felt him grazing against your begging walls, the ribbed detail of the protection only adding to the sensation. Soon enough, he was fully sheathed inside your fluttering hole, and was struggling to hold himself back from bucking his hips upwards. One leg on either side of him, you were straddling his lap, the position reminiscent of a longing embrace, intimate, personal. The centre of your attention were the contortions of his face and the arms that loosely wrapped around your torso.

If it was possible to be any closer, then most certainly Mingi achieved it when he pulled you into him, holding you tight. The movement dragged your pussy over his cock, almost making it slip out until he settled you back down again, hissing when skin slapped against skin. Not surprised by, but still not expecting the enticing demonstration of strength, you nudged Mingi’s cheek with your own, whispering words of praise in his ear:

“Do you want to guide me?”

“Sorry Y/N, I couldn’t help it… your pussy feels so good…”

“I said I want to take care of you, Mingi, tell me what you want.”

“I… I do want to guide you, if you let me.”

“Show me what you can do, darling.”

You did not need to say it twice as he grabbed your hips to adjust your seating, and took to finding a steady and breath-taking rhythm, with the two of you moving as one. Mingi left one peck, another on your shoulder when you yelped from a particularly deep pound of his cock into you, grazing your g-spot and knocking you off kilter. 

“Yes, yes, Mingi-”

“So pretty, for me?” he cut you off while he quickened his pace, starting to move up with more vigour when you found balance by gripping onto the headboard.

“For-” you stopped, reassessing the sentence. Even in the comfort of his show of power, you were hesitant to give up. Nothing forced you to continue however, as Mingi angled his thrusts to hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making your legs tremble and pussy clench around him. The heat was becoming unbearable, and the knot in your stomach was driving you mad, “Fuck, Mingi, faster!”

Your words were followed by a few violent thrusts, before Mingi tapped your thigh and growled for you to shift your leg so that you could turn and lie down on your side. You read his wishes, cautiously shifting until your back was flush against his chest. Remaining close so that his length remained in your sopping cunt, you shifted to sink into the crumpled sheets, fixated on Mingi, who was entirely in his own world, concentrated on performance and pleasure. He lifted your other leg by hooking it with his arm and, once settled, began to thrust with a totally new vigour. 

His grunts mixed with your high-pitched whines, and his pistoning caused your fluids to spill relentlessly around his cock, soaking the sheets. Mingi was in overdrive; he wanted more, needed more and despite already having already come one for you, he was ready to do it again. The pain of having his cock abused and overstimulated had subsided, instead transforming into a delightful sensitivity to the warmth of your walls, and how they started to pulsate. You unleashed a broken moan as your high accumulated and destroyed you, giving you up to Mingi entirely. Sensing the shift, he persisted, letting out his own guttural groan when the pounding into your hole had turned into pure ecstasy and brought him to his own orgasm. Cock twitching as it spilled out more of his release into the condom, the heat leaving you dizzy, you followed his change of position back into sitting, jaw slackened, vision unfocused.

Mingi kept you against him, encouraged you to say his name again while you warmed him, to which you instantly obliged - it felt too natural, meant to be. He scissored your folds with his fingers, after which he moved up to tease your pulsing and erect clit, middle finger moving over it at an astonishingly fast pace. You practically clawed at Mingi, sure that you were about to break, gasps stuck in your throat but he would not budge, holding you down until a tidal wave crashed into you, and you mewled through another climax, this time a clear liquid spilling from you and further ruining the cotton below. A wreck, you leaned back on him, unable to keep yourself up any longer from the shaking of your legs to the blankness of your mind. 

He kissed you back to full consciousness, having tilted your head so he could capture your lips again and again, each contact more gentle than the one prior. After pulling out his cock and discarding the condom, his full attention was on you. Mingi caressed your face, snaked his hands under the t-shirt to feel your skin, lowered you onto the bed and slid another pillow so that you remained in a more or less upright position.

“You okay?” he tried, worry showing itself on his features when you did not respond instantly.

“I love,” he stilled, eyes widening, “...this. I love this, Mingi,” nevertheless, he beamed, lips interlocking for what had to be the thousandth time. Not sure how to respond, he simply lied down next to you, watching as your inhales and exhales grew more level, deeper, and awareness of surroundings returned.

“We… we really should clean up, yeah?”

“Definitely changing the bedsheets later,” Mingi pointed at what was running the risk of being a stain of your release. Blush rose on your cheeks as you turned away, mumbling:

“Good point.”

“Hey, hey, it was worth it. You looked beautiful,” he tried to move you back, but you only crossed your arms, joking.

“You were literally behind me, Mingi.”

“Beautiful from all angles, doll,” you sharply turned, giving him a glare before suppressing the widest grin.

“So cheesy,”

“Do you like it?”

“Unfortunately, a little too much.” you flicked his nose with your own, the safety and adoration oozing from Mingi lulling you. The room glowed a stunning shade of pink, with hints of orange as you swam in his stunning dark irises.

“Well I have a lot more where that came from.”

“Can’t wait to hear it. Now, uh… shower?”

It was Saturday. And most definitely, it was not the dead of night. Late morning light washed over your skin as you sat upright on Mingi’s bed, the same one you had run from not too long ago. Only this time, the arm lazily thrown over your stomach was impossible to move, and the gaze of the man with his head perched on his other hand was impossible to ignore. It was evident that he was waiting for your next move, purposefully silent. Aware. Even though you had made your own version of a confession, you knew that you had a long way to go if you wanted Mingi to wholeheartedly trust you, and thus you would be able to hold and protect his love in your own slowly healing heart. 

For the first time, you were looking beyond the character you had created for yourself, feeling for the essence of who you had once been far too long ago, thawing the self-protective frost you had accumulated as your last resort.  Attempting to stay still, you focused on how your breathing repeatedly lifted and lowered his arm that was still on your body. Too heavy, too intimate, too real for you to handle. According to the logic that you were trying to shed for a full reawakening, you had gotten what you wanted, right? Then why was it that you could not stand up and leave, having used him again, mercilessly and coldly? Why were you stuck? Resistance was futile. Questions turning into a barrage of artillery against your clouded mind were agonising, and amidst the colossal pause a shudder passed over your body. Mingi’s t-shirt that he had let you borrow, hanging loosely over you was suddenly not enough. Feeling bare, you grasped at the bedsheets, anything, the cold settling on your skin like fresh snow, coating you and leaving you gasping. A trembling of the lips, a breath suspended in the lungs, blooming into an ache until tears welled up in your eyes, glistening raindrops. Patterns felt like strangers as you thought of the many days that you had tried to not live through, instead succumbing to impulse and carnality, and the foreign bliss of being in the now was so acute it sent shocks through your system. A white light, a white lily, a white dove cradled in your hands. You felt Mingi’s hand pressing into your side as he moved a little closer. You could hear him, his breath, his heartbeat, feel the heat emanating from his body, and every touch imprinted on your skin once again. Celestial blessings that soothed you like no one ever could. Biting on your lower lip, you lowered your head to fight the last of yourself. Shedding your beliefs and desires, you were left bare, and you were terrified. A white chasm into which you kept on falling, and the only thing you could hear was Mingi’s voice as he sat up to pull you into an embrace, his strong arms lifting you from your position and into his lap. Heart to heart, you melted into the feeling, inhaling him, his affection that was seeking you out in the panic. A hand lulling you, slowly patting your back as your body shook with every suppressed sob. As he mumbled your name against your ear, calling out for you, the previously contained tears sprung out, travelling down your cheeks, but Mingi could not care less, only hugging you tighter until even in your loss, you could feel that he was there, and he was not planning to leave.

Once you calmed down, he continued to hold you, mumbling abstract thoughts that occurred to him, unrelated to anything that had you rolling up the walls like a penny. You knew it was on purpose - a delightful distraction crafted by psychological mastery, getting you to nod along to his plans for ‘the latest breakfast of all time’, listening to his mention of some park or square nearby, switching you off from the ghosts of a turbulent circuit that you were too used to existing in. You did not mind the chatter, the vibrations emanating across and from his chest as he spoke having turned into the most soothing sensation. 

“...a date.”

“Huh?” only having registered the last part of the sentence, you jolted out of your empty musings.

“Since we are now dating, we will go on a date.”

“Makes sense.. But… how?” he chuckled breathlessly, detangling himself a little, just to look at you.

“How? Are you asking how people go on dates?”

“I guess…”

“Well then I’ll have to show you.”

As you lost yourself in another kiss, a thought, or more accurately, a small yet persistent wish buried itself in your mind. With all your being, you hoped that on this date, in every step towards new tomorrows, it would be only you and Mingi, and the metaphorical doors would remain shut, isolating and erasing your past. After all, you did not want to use him. 

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enjoyed the fic? i would really appreciate any reblogs, comments, notes! much love!

[parf-fan]

Heroes of the Realm Finale Sunday 2019 more like I’m not crying you’re crying

[yukidragon]

If Jack could get his material body back, would he? Knowing that he can be seen by others beside his Sunshine also making his victims hard to kill because of being caught in the act by others and on security cameras. But on the other hand he gets to tell other people off that his Sunshine has a boyfriend (him), can go on dates/honeymoons with his Sunshine, and maybe even getting married to his Sunshine!

I’m pretty sure Jack would absolutely want to have a normal body. His situation is tenuous and depends solely on a single person wanting him not only to be present, but able to touch them. As much as he loves his sunshine, that’s a really scary situation he’s in.

While it would make it a little trickier to get rid of “obstacles” in a more permanent way involving convincing them to self-harm and driving a person to madness through dreams if he lost his spooky ghost(?) powers, I think the trade off would be worth it, in Jack’s eyes.

One of the biggest problems Jack has is that MC isn’t sure if he’s real or not. It’s one of the main reasons why they struggle with the idea of getting in a romantic relationship with him. If he was suddenly real, well, that just makes it all the easier to convince them that he really will be with them forever, and in every way imaginable!

Golly, won’t that be swell to be able to introduce himself as MC’s boyfriend! He’d make sure everyone knew how important MC was to him, and how much MC loves him.

Not only would Jack  be the one saying it to pretty much everyone he meets, but he could convince MC to say it too. Jack would love to hear them declare their love for him in public so that he and everyone else knows it for sure. The man would just melt.

According to some art Jambeebot/Sauce has drawn and posted publicly on their twitter before it went down, Jack seems to only resort to violence when a person keeps getting in his way. If Nick suffering from recurring nightmares is any indication, Jack likely gives the person warnings in the form of subtle threats before it gets to that point. As a ghost(?) it’s with dreams, but as a person who is physically there? Well now, Jack can just use his words to get the message across directly so that there’s no misunderstanding, can’t he? In a very nice and friendly way. He is Sunny Day Jack after all!

If they don’t go away even after knowing MC chose him? Well... Jack is a smart man. He can figure something out that won’t risk the life he has with his sunshine...

Spooky powers aside, Jack’s greatest weapon are his words and psychological manipulation of others. He’s learned to be very good at handling people and nudging them around to his way of thinking.

With a normal human body, Jack can just talk to the “inferior friends” that are getting in his way and have a friendly conversation with them about it. He is physically present and can be very intimidating even while giving a friendly smile. He would be able to make his relationship known to others in a way that he can’t as a ghost(?)

As you said, like this, Jack can date his sunshine, no doubt with intentions of marrying them to ensure that they will be together forever. The downsides are pretty minor, though he would miss being able to feel up his sunshine in front of other people without being seen. Sadly, his exhibitionist side will just have to let go of that particular public sex kink and just enjoy living a normal life happily with his sunshine.

...Though no doubt he will still try to have sex with them in risky places even if they could both get caught. If someone catches them, well... now they know who his sunshine really wants to be with, don’t they? :o)

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic

[the-untamed-obsession]

Hai! I was wondering if you can do the juniors and wei wuxian + jiang cheng ( <-seperatly ) proposing to you for the Lan sizhui imagine its readers birthday and they propose with readers fave song on the spot and ofc reader accepts with a big kiss, for lan jingyi i really think he will propose in christmas its like readers favorite occasion,for jin ling i think in he will propose in maybe or maybe not koi tower, for zizhen i bet all in he will propose in valentines day, wei wuxian will probably propose in burial mounds, for jiang cheng ofc its lotus pier in new years hahaha! THOU SRSLY I CANT WITH UR LAST FIC OF THE JUNIORS WITH THE INSENCE ITS LIKE SO GOOD HAHA

I’m sorry this is so late!! I hope you like it💖 I actually messed up and had to restart BUT I think I’ve got what you requested💖 Happy reading!

Includes: Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen

Proposals!

Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian’s been wanting to propose for a while, actually. You two have been together for about four years now- almost five- and he can’t help it. 

He actually didn’t know how to propose or when. Of course, those are always the main concerns when it comes to proposing. Both Wen Ning and Wen Qing actually helped him out, as well as little Yuan. The plan was that you two would go on a fun date all day and then he’d propose at night under the full moon.

It actually goes very well. Although, earlier that day, he forgot where he placed the ring so he thought he lost it. He almost cried but Wen Qing actually found it and kept it safe to give it to him later. He was extremely thankful for it. He couldn’t imagine losing such a precious item.

You’re extremely happy! You couldn’t breathe when you heard his words, the words that asked you to be his forever. You jumped into his arms without even really waiting for him to finish his little speech. 

“Ah… I.. guess I didn’t have to stress so much. N-no I’m not crying, I’m… yeah, I’m crying. I just love you so much.”

Jiang Cheng:

You’ve been with him for a little over six years, your relationship is extremely stable and it was time for you two to get married, honestly. Jiang Cheng had been thinking about it for almost two years now and finally decided to propose.

He wasn’t sure when the right time would be. Fortunately, New Years was right around the corner, so that’s when he settled on the date! He had everything ready and since he’d been planning everything for two years now, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Everything goes according to plan, actually. He was really scared he’d mess it up. He was so nervous that you started to suspect him. Of course, you didn’t think he was going to propose, you thought he might’ve received a threat or something, given that he's the clan leader now.

You were both relieved and excited to receive the proposal. You were happy to know that it was nothing serious, but you were also elated to find out it was a proposal! An actual marriage proposal! You were so happy you started crying and tackled him to the floor. No, you didn’t move for like five minutes.

“Hey! Come on get off! We’re on the floor-... I love you so much. So don’t ever leave me, ok?”

Lan Sizhui:

You had been together for exactly five years and Sizhui had wanted to propose for the longest time. He’d actually fallen so much in love, he had started thinking about your wedding about a year into your relationship, but knew it was too early so waited it out. He planned to propose on your birthday!

He couldn’t think of anything. Every time he thought about proposing, he’d think about you two married and his mind would just blank. Both Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling helped set it up. All three spent almost a whole month planning it before Sizhui was finally able to go through with it.

It started well. Then went horrendously wrong. First thing, he lost the ring. Second, the party they’d set up for your birthday was almost ruined because you got called away by a friend for a small emergency. Jin Ling thought Fairy ate the cake and Lan Jingyi couldn’t find the presents. THANKFULLY, Lan Wangji was there to save the day. He knew where the cake was, he found the ring and presents, and employed Wei Wuxian to help solve your friend’s problem so you could both make it in time.

Although everyone wanted to see the proposal, Sizhui preferred to do it in private. So, he took you to a room where he started his little speech. You could barely let him finish before you tackled him to the floor. He was so happy he cried BUT WORRY NOT. Everyone was secretly watching so they saw it all happen. They won’t tell you two though. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian engraved the scene in their hearts as proud fathers!

“Y-you mean it? Really?! You’re… that means you’re all mine now, right? Good… because I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.

Lan Jingyi:

You two have been together for nearly six years now and it’s been something he’s wanted to do for almost three of them. He never thought he would see the day where he would be SO excited to propose, but here it is. He decided to do it on Christmas since it’s your favorite holiday!

He employed both Sizhui and Jin Ling to help, mainly for planning. All three of them were able to come up with a foolproof plan that would work no matter what! As long as you said yes… that is. So, ok, not completely foolproof.

It started terribly. There was a Christmas party and it was chaotic as hell there. Jingyi’s present was actually the thing… which he lost in the pile of presents that everyone had brought. He almost cried but don’t worry! Sizhui and Jin Ling were the best helpers, they didn’t stop until they found that little present box. They even managed to get you two some alone time where he sat you down and let you open the box.

You were elated. Tears slid down your cheeks as you shakily grabbed the ring in the box. You kept looking at Jingyi waiting for him to say it was a joke, but he never did. He took the ring and slid it onto your finger without saying anything. All you did was nod and hug him, sitting in his lap and crying for the next thirty minutes.

“Hush now, don’t cry too much. You’ll spend all your tears. Hey… you’re all mine now, ok? And I promise to keep you safe and happy for the rest of our lives. Now, smile for me.”

Jin Ling:

You had been together for almost four years now. Jin Ling didn’t think he’d seen the day so soon. Of course, he’d always been so madly in love with you, he knew it would happen SOME DAY. He just… never expected it to be here… right now.

Golly, he is TERRIFIED. He was so scared. Both Jingyi and Sizhui assured him everything would be ok and helped him plan it. Even though he claimed he didn’t need their help the entire time. He did though. He really did. The plan was for him to take you on a date and propose there, at the little special spot you two had.

Did it go well? Not really. No, not at all. Actually, he ended up being called away. Jiang Cheng needed him for something and as much as he didn’t want to go, his nerves made him leave. Both Sizhui and Jingyi panicked and tried to get him back. They managed to do so later at night and told you to meet him at Koi Tower. You said it was late and preferred to do it another time, but they insisted. So you went.

You were so happy you went. Turns out, Jin Ling just wanted to propose! He was so scared, you’d never seen him like that before so it kind of scared you too. Turns out, he was just proposing. You’d never been so  happy and started saying yes before he even started his speech. Both Jingyi and Sizhui watched from a hidden place and will never stop talking about how shy and nervous Jin Ling was. He acts angry… but deep down, that’s his second most treasured memory. The first is marrying you, of course

“I-I wasn’t nervous! Why would I be nervous! This is easy business and I… I… ok… I was terrified. I’m glad you said yes, because I can’t imagine not spending my life with you. So you better not break my heart… and I won’t break yours. I swear.”

Ouyang Zizhen:

You’d been together for almost eight years now, the longest out of all your friends. Zizhen had wanted to propose almost four years prior, but always had this feeling you’d say no. It took a while for his friends to convince him otherwise and that’s when he started to finally plan when to propose. Valentine’s Day.

Sizhui, Jingyi, and Jin Ling all helped plan it all. The four of them came up with the perfect date idea for you two. All day, you would celebrate Valentine’s day. Then, you two would come home and Zizhen would give you the last present of the day… a ring and ask you to marry him.

Did it go well? Kind of. The date was so fun that you didn’t want to leave the festival that ran late at night. No matter what, you just wanted to stay. All four of them were terrified that you might be too late for him to propose ON Valentine’s Day. However, just at the last second, Jin Ling managed to get the ring and give it to Zizhen, who took you aside FIVE MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT to finally propose.

You’d never been this happy. Tears streamed down your face as you listened to Zizhen’s rather rushed speech. He explained he wanted to do it ON Valentine’s Day and they were already late. You said yes right before midnight and failed to notice three men hiding behind bushes celebrating Zizhen’s victory.

“You really said yes… you really said yes! I’m the happiest man alive right now and I will be for the rest of our lives! Stay with me, forever. Stay with me and we can be happy together, no matter what happens. As long as I have you with me… I don’t need anything else.”

[wrestlezon]

liveblog containment zone for aew dynamite 8/3/22

i wasnt going to do this, i was just gonna casually sit back and watch but then the undisputed elite promo started and i decided to get invested today

best friends trenchcoat bit good. just as janky as it went in pwg lmao. i love them when chuck came out to save orange-- he has a sleeveless tiedye shirt?? GUNS OUT??? love lookin at your arms king keep up the good work HELL yea (insert further wolf barking and catcalls here)

ricky starks video bit-- i wonder how powerhouse hobbs is going to justify his turn

oh its adam cole? we doing this now? ok. i thought i'd see hobbs are these dang dudes finally going to arrive at the firework factory lots of talking. ive been waiting for this whole thing to blow up in adam cole's face forever (in true heel fashion) hmm... they wouldnt have kenny omega come back yet right... wowww youre just going to force them not to fight? lmao?? who made you the boss WHOAAAAA he finally did it!!! he played his hand!!! who is going to save them <:( THE POP FOR HANGMAN!!!!!!! ohhhhhhhhh the pickup...

oh its christian cage... lmao you can hear the crowd laughing "HE BROUGHT UP MY PERSONAL LIFE I WOULD NEVER DO THAT" ok LMFAO christian cage is so fucking funny HOLY SHIT THAT CAR WAS MOVING FAST

hello??? britt baker team vs thunderstorm!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW wasnt expecting this ooooohhhhh new outfit jamie hayter?? fancy rebel reminds me of xena warrior princess... maybe its the hair holy shit that thunder rosa kick from outta nowhere looked like it hurt whoa!!! hayter and baker won with the pin on toni storm

sammy tay marriage? ok i guess. cringe EDDIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! eddie is the realest. ultimate face. i agree with everything he is saying SO TRUE BOO THIS WEDDING eddie may have lost the cagematch (i didnt like that result) but he does get on all the ppvs

TEAM TAZ IS OVER.... GOLLY... lmao makes sense tho. poor taz. he is just like literally if idk whats going on in my own team then i just WONT HAVE ONE. TEAM OVER. DISBAND powerhouse hobbs match its starks! he practically teleported past the camera going so fast LMAO omg he was also obscured by smoke and fog and im blind

oh!!!!!!! miro video promo MIRO ARE YOU GOING TO GET AN EVIL BAD GUY EYE TOO...

commercial

oh its darby allin doing a video promo against brody king hes giving himself a tat and the buzzing is quite annoying and distracting

jim ross alert

oh! its the christian cage match. who is he fighting again oh!!!!!!!!! matt hardy!!!!! matt hardy and his penance mullet im distracted thinking about all the laundry i have to do. but i am appreciating this match between two ogs table! table! table! table! ohhhh!! dodged and a win by christian cage strangely normal win for evil badguy cage wait i spoke too soon hes breaking out the steel chairs huh! LUCHASAURUS....... BY HIMSELF???? I FEAR... oh!!!!!!!!!! distraction fakeout for jungleboy! LMAO HIS SHIRT? IN LIKE DEFAULT ARIAL? LOWERCASE IMPACT FONT???

Christian is a pussy.

hey its daniel garcia doing a backstage promo

kip sabian return?? shall he come back and fight pac???

ethan page is wearing an excellent shirt today. he is so fashionable ethan page bitching and moaning in the ring promo stokely!!!! stokely TAKE ETHAN PAGE AWAY FROM DAN LAMBERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!! YESSSS ETHAN PAGE LEAVE THE AMERICAN TOP TEAM PLEASE YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh boy! and now its 2point0 backstage promo time!!! hell yes DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT GETS DADDY MAGIC'S NIPPLES HARD ok i love anna jay's insatiable need to choke someone out. she needs her fix stu grayson isnt around anymore so now she is just choking out whoever whenever

oh its the acclaimed vs gunn club dumpster match now!! LMAO NICE off to a great start with the trash cans oh and we get a rap too? max caster is spicy today wow in the dumpster already that was fast is austin gunn wearing a croptop and overalls is someone gonna pop out of the dumpster on the ramp... maybe not. but itd be a good hiding spot oh on top of the tunnel? buddy.... caster!! OFF THE TUNNEL ONTO A TABLE... GOLLY omg ziptied. theyre locked in now lol wait are they gonna just roll the dumpster out now. kidnapping? OH... WHOA JEEZ

matches were announced! waow

its wheeler yuta vs jericho time! who will win!? i honestly dont know. i'd want yuta to win but i think jericho would end up winning regardless... through bluster or shenanigans EJECTED lmao the crowd pulling off the whole goodbye song??? nice there is wrestling occuring. and also slap fights i love that yuta's thing is his insane german suplexes. its always cool and charming to have a Signature Favorite Move oh no! walls of jericho!!!! THE YUTA CHANTS FROM THE CROWD!!!!!!!!! yuta DOUBLE TOPE???? TRIPLE??? YUTA CONTAIN YOURSELF oh no!!!!!!!!! yuta codebreakered! KICK OUT... wait i looked at the clock and spoilered myself. i can rest easy for a few more minutes the bat! THE DISTRACTION!! NOT HIS DICK AND BALLS SEATBELT AGAIN????? nooooo!!! submission held!!!! yuta tapped....

killing him!!! moxley to da rescue

[justapayneaway]

The real 12th January 💛❤️

A Ziam drabble written by me for the first time ever. Please be gentle with my heart 🥺 ______

It was morning and Liam felt light shinning on his closed eyes. He opened them and for a second felt out of place, not knowing where he was. But then he felt a warm and heavy body on top of his. The smelt of cigarettes and cologne so familiar to him that he didn’t even need to look down to know who was trying to snuggle into his neck.

Liam looked at the clock on his phone. “7 am. Fuck jet lag.”, he thought. Today of all days he didn’t need to be up early. There was nowhere for him to go besides lying in bed with the love of his life, his future husband, his Zayn.

He had came in the day before as a surprise to Zayn. His fiancé was so excited that he had jumped into his arms, wrapped his legs around his waist and just kissed his face all over. He felt so much love and happiness for being able to be here for Zayn’s birthday. 

The surprises he had planned didn’t stop there though… And the second one, even though it pained him to leave the warm body on their bed, was to wake Zayn up with a nice and homemade breakfast. Liam started to get up, but Zayn’s arms were tightening on his body and his eyelashes started to flutter as if he was going to open his eyes.

Scared of waking him up, Liam just dropped a kiss on his forehead while tracing his hands in his hair. He looked around for a pillow to replace his body with but then he saw that Rhino was lying on their bed looking up at Liam. He quietly called the dog to his side of the bed and then put Zayn’s arms around the pup that snuggled into his owner. 

Liam got up, put some trackers on and closed the door of their bedroom. “Oh my golly gosh, it’s fucking freezing” he said quietly while he walked to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and just went for the basic: eggs, turkey bacon, milk to make some pancakes, whipped cream and some strawberries. 

He set to work on preparing the food while also making Zayn’s morning tea. As he finished every dish, he started to plate it taking special care on transforming the pancakes into hearts to decorate with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

He heard tiny paws on the carpet and saw Rhino appearing at the kitchen’s door. “He didn’t wake up, did he Rhino?”. The dog cooked his head at him and Liam thought that he saw him shaking his tiny head, but who knows maybe Liam’s jet lag was getting to him. Liam put food and water on Rhino’s bowl. 

Then he went to his bag that was still on the hall and found what he was looking for… two tiny party hats that he had bought that had a Batman theme. One for him and one for Rhino. He might have taken a selfie of him and Rhino with the party hats, but no one needed to know about that.

He took the tray full of food and left the kitchen with Rhino trailing behind him. He entered the room and saw Zayn sprawled on the bed. He had a pillow snug on his chest and was snoring lightly. Liam set the tray on the bedside table and got on the bed. 

Liam laid on top of Zayn and started trailing kisses on his body until he reached his beautiful face. Zayn eyelashes started to flutter and then he opened the prettiest hazel eyes to look at him. He sighed contently and when Liam started to rub his beard against his cheek, he squirmed and screamed “Leyumm! That’s going to leave a mark. Stop it!”

But he was laughing, so Liam just kept going while also giggling like a little boy with his eyes squeezing shut in delight. Then he pressed a kiss to Zayn’s chapped lips and said “Happy 28th birthday, love!”. 

Zayn sighed and had the most blinding soft smile looking at Liam. A bit like he was looking directly into the sun. “Thank you babe. I’m just so happy that you’re here with me”. Liam smiled wider and resumed kissing and cuddling him close. 

After a few minutes, Liam remembered the food and the tea that were turning cold. When he made a move to get up again, Zayn whined and was trying to keep Liam in his arms. “Babe, the food will get cold. Let’s eat. I have another surprise for you”. With all his cheek Zayn just whispered in his ear “I’d rather eat you, if you know what I mean”. When Liam squeaked, he just winked and smirked at him. 

“You’re the devil, you know that right?”, Liam said. “I know, but you love me so feed me please”, Zayn replied. “Devil and bossy, I see how you are. So I guess you don’t want your gifts either, right?”. Liam took pleasure in seeing Zayn’s eyes get wide while he said “No, I want those!”. “Okay, then let’s sit up and eat you bugger”, Liam answered. 

Sighing Zayn set up and when he looked to the side he started laughing histerically. “Oh no poor Rhino! Come here baby… Who was a bad daddy and put that ugly hat on you?”. The dog jumped in the bed and started licking Zayn’s face while he giggled. Liam wasn’t even offended by Zayn’s comment. He loved seeing their dog being all in love with Zayn. He related to that. 

“Are you done mocking me?”, Liam asked fake exasperated. When Zayn nodded while still laughing, Liam just put the tray on his legs. He then reached out to his bed side table and got the presents that were on his drawer. “So I have a few gifts for you… You will get two now and the others later at dinner.” 

Zayn looked so excited and took one of the gifts from Liam’s hands. He opened the envelope and inside he found a paper saying that a donation in his name was made to the British Asian Trust. He gasped and looked at Liam while saying “You shouldn’t have!”. 

Liam just shrugged and said “You know that we always make a donation for a charity. I got inspired by our fans trying to raise money for that organization”. Zayn just kissed him and softly answered with “Thank you. You have the biggest heart in the whole universe, you know?”. Liam just blushed. 

He then picked up the other gift and gave it to Zayn. It was in the shape of a rectangular and Zayn was intrigued with it. He started to rip the paper and it was revealed a drawing of them. Zayn gasped and looked as he saw himself and Liam cuddling in bed. The drawing was done with charcoal and the shadows were perfect. He looked at Liam still in shock and said “Was this done by you?”. When Liam just nodded shyly, he started talking again “But like how? When? I don’t remember this! Did you drew this from memory? Explain yourself right now! Fuck you’re getting so good at drawing”. 

Liam chuckled and said “Well, one of these mornings you were sleeping right. You looked so peaceful and beautiful so I had to take a photo of us like this. Then the idea popped in my head, you know? It’d be cool a gift to show my fave teacher how good I’m getting”. 

Zayn just looked at Liam in awe, for once lost of words. “I.. I’m just like- Wow! This is beautiful baby. Thank you, I’ll cherish it forever and ever!” He pushed the tray off his legs and pushed Liam down on the bed while attacking him with kisses. 

The problem was that Zayn miscalculated his strength and the space Liam had on the bed because they fell from the bed and into the floor. Liam looked a bit shocked and in pain, but Zayn kept giving him kisses on his lips and on his neck. Then he moved to his eyes and Liam thought “Fuck this, I’ll just enjoy it!”.

Rhino seeing that his owners were on the floor jumped on top of them while barking and waving his tail happily. 

In that moment, Liam felt content. Everything was perfect! Sure, life was a bitch and there were some crazy things still happening outside of these walls. For the hundredth time in his life, Liam felt grateful. He still had more surprises for Zayn like the new Cartier couples jewelry he had costume made or even the lunch he had arranged with their families over Zoom.

But Liam’s best gift for Zayn was the song that he had written over their time apart that symbolized their love. That one would be just for him and Zayn. Maybe one day for their kids and grandkids. 

So he just sighed happily and wrapped his arms over Zayn’s body kissing him with all the love he had for the other boy. Their love was made of precious moments like these and Liam would do everything in his power to keep these memories. “I love you baby to infinity and beyond”, Liam whispered. Zayn just laughed, his glistening, and said “I love you too dork… to infinity and beyond”.  

The end. 

[taiblogcomics]

I Can’t Pet Force You To Read This One, But...

Hey there, high school crushes. Well, it's finally here. Can you believe it? Yes, counting from the original Xanga site (which, yes, still counts. It's like our own Golden Age publication or apocryphia), this is our 10th anniversary of reviewing comics. That's fantastic. I'm excited, can't you tell? I can tell, since I'm writing this preamble a good two months before the actual anniverary~

So, last year we reviewed the absolute pile of dreck that is Heroes in Crisis. And while that was worth ripping into, I'd rather not spend the 10th anniversary hating on something. I'd like to do something actually meaningful to me. I've teased about this one for many years, probably for as long as I've been doing this blog, and I think it's time we stopped pussyfooting around and reviewed some Garfield. But not just any Garfield. It's finally time, my friends. This... is Garfield's Pet Force.

I dunno how many people will remember this one. Maybe you recall the direct-to-DVD movie adaptation from 2009, or at least advertising for it. I never saw it, but apparently it differs a bit. They also appeared a few times in those Garfield comics from back in the day. We even reviewed a couple (some were on the Xanga blog). But what we're looking at here are the original novellas published between 1997 and 1999. So yeah, these really are from my childhood. And since I've long espoused that Garfield was always funnier 20 years ago, this must be actual premium Garfield content, yeah? By golly, I hope so, because we got five whole books here today. So we should probably get into them~

Book 1: The Outrageous Origin

This is a classic sort of superhero cover. Standard team shot of poses, and that's fine for a first volume. In fact, that's great. Later editions of this would replace the lightning-filled gradient background with a pure white one, but I have this original version. We'll get to specifics about these characters in the meat of the story, but let's talk about the costumes for a bit. Very classic early-'90s sort of look, before the Dark Age kicked in. Reminds me a lot of Jim Lee's X-Men designs, actually. Making all your characters visually distinct is important in a team book. The heavy lean into secondary colours is unusual for heroic characters, but not unwelcome.

So we actually start with a cold open in the superhero universe. This is pretty much to introduce us to the characters as soon as possible, and thus I'll do the same for you here.

*Garzooka, team leader, super strong, has a razor-sharp claw, and can shoot radioactive hairballs from his mouth. That's... at least a unique power, I don't think anyone on the Justice League can do that~ *Odious, the dumb muscle with the accent on the "dumb". Possibly even stronger than Garzooka, and possessing a "super-stretchy stun tongue", an elastic tongue that can scramble the minds of whoever it adheres to. *Starlena, the team girl. She can fly, and she has a siren song that can put those who hear it into a hypnotic trance. Garzooka is the only one immune to its effects, for reasons that are never explained. *Abnermal, the kid-appeal character. He has ice powers, forcefields, and an ill-defined "pester power" that means he can annoy people on a greater scale than normal folks. It's pretty much only used for comic relief, but that could be a brilliant power in the right hands. *Compooky, the brains of the operation. Other than flight, his powers are limited to super intelligence, which means he's usually the exposition guy. There's probably a reason they left him out of the movie adaptation~

You got all that? Don't worry, we'll introduce you again later in the book. What actually happens in the intro chapter isn't really important, it's just setting up the universe. In fact, it's all taking place within Pet Force #99, a comic just enjoyed by Nermal. Yes, we quickly cut over to the main Garfield universe ("our universe", the narrator calls it), where Pet Force is just a comic book. The Garfield gang is all outside, enjoying a cookout prepared by Jon Arbuckle. Nermal is extremely enthused by his comic book, and brags about how he has all 98 previous issues sealed and polybagged, and this one will soon join them. Sorry, Nermal, this came out in 1997, the speculator boom already went bust~

Garfield dismisses comic books as stupid because you can't eat them or use them as a blanket, and declares that none of the stuff that happens in the comic could possibly happen in real life. Uh oh, irony! Because these things can happen, and do! It's a parallel universe, baby! This might be one of my earliest introductions to a "parallel worlds" concept. Much like Earths 1 and 2 in pre-Crisis DC, the events of the comic are essentially the real life adventures of their super-powered counterparts in another dimension. Most of the action in these stories will take place there~

So here's the setup: Vetvix (the parallel equivalent to Liz the veternarian) is an evil sorceress and scientist, who essentially wants to experiment on animals in peace, and possibly subjugate the universe while she's at it. You could argue that Liz is an odd choice for villain, since our universe's Liz isn't particularly evil. But then, our universe's Garfield isn't particularly heroic either. She operates out of a deadly space station called the Orbiting Clinic of Chaos, and at present she's waiting for the arrival of her henchman, Space Pie-Rat, who is a six-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat dressed in stereotypical pirate getup. Vetvix has just finished inventing a levitation ray, and she'd like Pie-Rat to go out and use it to steal all the food in the universe. Vetvix doesn't think small, is what I'm saying.

The counter to Vetvix is Emperor Jon, ruler of the planet Polyester. He's kind and benevolent, even if he's a little dippy and his fashion sense atrocious. Having gotten wind of Vetvix's latest plan, he contacts Pet Force in their ship, the Lightspeed Lasagna. Upon learning the problem, Pet Force gives chase to Pie-Rat. They eventually corner him on some desolate planet, landing and entering an abandoned factory. Unfortunately, they're not safe amongst the dangerous machinery, because this turns out to be a trap. Vetvix has been busy as hell, because she's also invented a metal that's impervious to their powers. And that's not all, because she's also basically invented the Phantom Zone, where she traps Pet Force forever. It specifically mentions it doesn’t kill them, because it wouldn't be kosher to murder the heroes in a Garfield book~

The Lightspeed Lasagna has both onboard cameras connected to the heroes' belts as well as automatic return protocols, so within two days, Emperor Jon knows exactly what's happened to Pet Force. He needs help, so he calls upon his most trusted and powerful advisor: Binky the Sorceror. Binky's just as loud and obnoxious as in the main universe, but he's also a powerful magician. He conjures up a spell for Emperor Jon that lets him pierce the veil between universes. It's basically Equestria Girls rules: parallel universes have similar characters between them. So to replace Pet Force, they need the nearest genetic equivalents from another universe. And that's the versions of Garfield, Odie, Arlene, Nermal, and Pooky that we know and love~

Back in the main universe, it's another day entirely. Another cookout is taking place, and Nermal has received his special anniversary issue of Pet Force #100. The cover's really special, dripping with '90s cover gimmicks like glow-in-the-dark and embossing. A rarely used one, though, was "portal to another universe". That was pretty expensive to print, so you won't find many comics like Nermal's. Maybe he had something there with the collecting after all. The cover glows, and while Jon is distracted by the grill, Garfield and Friends disappear~

They reappear in Emperor Jon's wood-paneled throne room, now transformed into Pet Force. Emperor Jon and Sorceror Binky try to explain the situation, but Garfield--now Garzooka--is disbelieving of the whole thing. In fact, even the idea that Jon can now hear him talk absolutely floors him. Since he's about to deliver the exposition for everyone, can we talk about Compooky for a minute? This spell has just granted sapience to Garfield's teddy bear. I don't expect deep philosophy from a children's novella, but the ramifications of this are really under-explored. Like, never mind the whole idea of a teddy bear having the same genetic makeup as an alternate universe equivalent. He goes from inanimate object to fully conscious being, and he just rolls with it.

Anyways, once everybody gets caught up on what's going on and accepts the new reality, a training montage ensues so the group can all learn to use their powers without killing each other. Once at least reasonably trained, the reborn Pet Force is sent out to stop Pie-Rat. He's gotten sloppy in the times with Pet Force dead, so they track him down easily. After a brief scuffle where Garzooka takes his eyepatch, Pie-Rat flees in his ship. They follow Pie-Rat back to the Orbital Clinic of Chaos, but they can't go in the front. That led the original Pet Force into a trap. Finding an unguarded maintenance hatch--standard on any big space station--they enter Vetvix's lair for a final confrontation!

After dealing with the Waiting Room of Doom, which slowly fills with outdated magazines, they enter Vetvix's inner sanctum. Frustrated with Pie-Rat's failure, she uses her magic to turn him into an ordinary mouse. Vetvix then attempts to use her same weapon on this new Pet Force, but thanks to story contrivance, it only works on beings born in this universe. As other dimensional visitors already, they can't be banished to another dimension. She then pulls a Dr. Claw and runs off cursing Pet Force's name while her base self-destructs. Vetvix is a very "discard and draw" sort of villain, it seems. Pet Force, of course, makes a harrowing escape just in the nick of time.

Returning to Emperor Jon, they vow to be ready to return whenever they're called on, since evil never stays dormant for long. Odious even gifts Emperor Jon with the mouse-ified Pie-Rat as proof of their victory. Well, I'm glad they remember that, so they didn't accidentally murder a major villain in their first superhero outing. They're returned to their own universe, and the time differential between them places them back with Jon having not had time to even look up from the grill. Garfield begins to doubt the adventure even happened--until that night, when he finds Pie-Rat's eyepatch still on his person. Ah, definitive proof of... eyepatches, I guess~

Book 2: Pie-Rat's Revenge!

You have to wonder where, in a space-faring superhero setting, Pie-Rat got the inspiration for his classic pirate motif. It's a little incongruous is all I'm saying. And hey, remember when I said earlier that Garzooka's purple-and-green colour scheme was odd for a hero? Well, here he is as a villain! That'll catch your eye. This would be a terrific comic cover, which is what you want in a series like this.

The book opens with a brief recap of the previous story's events, then moves into the new plot. See, Emperor Jon has opted to keep the polymorphed Pie-Rat as his pet. How very Ron Weasley of him. That's pretty apt, actually, because similarly Pie-Rat has maintained his intelligence in his new mousey form. Pie-Rat gets sick of being Emperor Jon's pet and plans a daring escape, exploiting the emperor's dimwitted and loving personality against him. Pie-Rat jams the lock with a food pellet and makes his escape that night.

Once free from his cage, he encounters Binky's cauldron, still left in the throne room from when the sorceror summoned Pet Force from Garfield's universe. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Pie-Rat jumps in the leftover brew. Suddenly he finds himself growing. He returns to his original anthropomorphic state--but with a twist. He's now twice his original height, a staggering twelve feet tall. He scoops up the rest of the remaining potion for later, and sneaks out of the palace as best as a 12-foot rat can sneak. Desiring revenge on both his former employer and his longtime foes, he steals Pet Force's ship and makes his escape from the planet, headed for Vetvix's newest base.

After his guards help Emperor Jon put the pieces of the problem together, they decide they must once again call upon the powers of Pet Force to recover their missing vehicle and stop the newly embiggened Pie-Rat. Fortunately, Garfield and friends have been watching movies all weekend, so Jon doesn't notice when his pets disappear from the living room in a bright flash. Of course, once returned to the alternate universe and the situation explained, they still have a problem: how do they give chase to Pie-Rat when he's got their ship?

And speaking of Pie-Rat in their ship, he's followed the trail of a mysterious energy output, and it's led him right to Vetvix's new base, the Menacing Moon of Mayhem. See, this is why you don't blow up your base: the backup base is never as good. if it was, it wouldn't be the backup. Given that it's such a shoddy base, Pie-Rat is easily able to get inside and get close to Vetvix. She's expecting a technological attack, so she's unprepared when he pulls out that vial of magic potion and sprinkles her with it. And naturally, the potion that made him grow 12 feet tall makes Vetvix shrink to 5 inches. It's magic, we don't have to explain it!

Pie-Rat takes the magic crystal that Vetvix uses to fuel her powers, which of course didn't shrink because magic is just bullshit. See previous paragraph's last sentence. And while Pie-Rat takes over the base and begins plotting a further revenge against Pet Force, we cut over to them. They're at Sorceror Binky's own castle, and it's clear he's a bit of a hoarder. This is to their advantage, though, as they eventually piece together a working spaceship out of old car parts and other things, all patched together between Compooky's know-how and Binky's magic. This seems like the sort of book where I could use that "it's magic" quote every other paragraph. But craft a new--if small--ship they do, and speed off in the newly christened Planetary Pizza.

The rickety little ship does eventually find its way to Pie-Rat's base, saving him the trouble of being proactive as a villain. The magic thing keeps happening, and Pie-Rat basically becomes Discord for a bit while he fights them, doing things like turning Starlena's siren song into actual living music notes. One by one, the members of Pet Force are taken out, with only Garzooka is left. He and Pie-Rat struggle, while Pie-Rat tries to aim the magic crystal at Garzooka. Garzooka uses his claw to rip the crystal from Pie-Rat and defeat him.

Unfortunately, here's where the cover comes in. It seems the moments Pie-Rat was focusing the crystal during the struggle affected Garzooka's mind. He puts the crystal around his own neck. which turns him evil. He helps Pie-Rat to his feet, and the pair escape in the Lightspeed Lasagna. While Pet Force pursues them in their ramshackle ship, the new criminal duo strikes the storage planet of Deli to steal their food. Pet Force manages to catch up as the villains celebrate their spoils, and use a magic blast from the systems Binky installed to short out the Lightspeed Lasagna. This enables them to dock with the ship and climb aboard for a contfrontation.

The group fights, and once again the bearer of a bullshit magic crystal subdues the heroes easily. Annoyed now, Garzooka takes hold of Starlena and prepares to kill her or something. She taps into the one thing she has left: she's not fighting just Garzooka, but Garfield in his body. She drops some heavy put-downs, which resonate with Garfield, and he hesitates long enough for her to cut the crystal off him. The crystal hits the floor and shatters, undoing its evil magics on Garzooka's mind as well as on all his teammates. With Pet Force reunited, Pie-Rat is easily subdued and locked up.

The group waits for the ship to power back up, then speed off to apologise to the planet Deli. Following that, they head back towards Vetvix's moonbase. That night, though, the magic that was making Pie-Rat 12 feet tall wears off, and he escapes from his cell. He steals the remaining shards of the crystal, climbs into the Planetary Pizza, and makes a getaway. As a bonus, he also repeats the power-down spell against the bigger ship, giving him ample time to escape. And he's not the only one. Over on the Menacing Moon of Mayhem, Vetvix also returns to her proper size, and abandons this base as well. And when Pet Force fails to find her, they simply return to their own universe, ready to be called on once again in the future~

Book 3: K-Niner: Dog of Doom!

Another very basic comic book-style cover. K-Niner is a much more typical villain in style. This one's actually a wrap-around, and features the rest of Pet Force reacting to K-Niner on the back cover. Which is good because, other than the first cover, the covers all have a heavy Garzooka focus. Which makes sense for a book series, I suppose, you wanna assure the kiddos that Garfield's gonna be in the book. But as a comic book series, this would be a bad look for a team book~

So after our standard introduction and recap, we start off with Vetvix in yet another new base, the Floating Fortress of Fear. I'm sure it's very intimidating, if she can keep hold of it for more than a single book. She's picking up from the epilogue and putting the last touches on K-Niner, mostly enhancing his intelligence. Now, you look at the cover and tell me what kind of voice you'd expect. Some sort of German or Austrian accent, like the doberman on Road Rovers? Does anyone remember Road Rovers~? Anyways, but no: he speaks with a posh British accent. You know, the "I say, good chaps, looks like we're in a bit of a sticky wicket, eh wot?" type. Trust me, you can tell. But just because he sounds refined doesn't mean he's not evil.

I also love that after the initial "trapped them in the Phantom Zone" bit, the villains just go whole ham. K-Niner here demonstrates that he is indeed evil by threatening to rip out Vetvix's throat. Let your villains be villainous is all I'm saying. She's pleased he's so vicious, but feels he needs to learn his place as well. She force-chokes him until he complies. She then gives him his assignment: she thinks dogs should be liberated. The Boy Mayor of Second Life would approve, and so does K-Niner. Turning pets on their masters is just his style.

K-Niner takes a portable evolution gun, and immediately sets off. He begins on the planet Kennel. Isn't it neat how every planet is named after an English word that describes its function? K-Niner quickly takes over the dog population and turns them against their masters, because boosting their intelligence also makes them evil, of course. They use enslavement collars on their former owners, and within a few days, the dogs now run the planet. We cut over to Emperor Jon on Polyester, where a man has crash-landed a ship. He's an escapee from Kennel, and he's here to report the events so we can get the plot moving and once more summon Pet Force!

And summoned once more they are, Garfield and Friends once more conveniently disappearing in a split second while Jon's back is turned (this time they're outside playing volleyball). And once back in the parallel universe, Emperor Jon fills them all in on K-Niner's dastardly doings. Garzooka, naturally, takes great offense to dogs being in charge, and takes his duties as a hero completely seriously for once. Pet Force takes off for a confrontation with K-Niner in the Lightspeed Lasagna. And speaking of Pet Force's ships...

The Planetary Pizza, piloted by Pie-Rat, plants its pads down on polar planet Glacia. Pie-Rat is here seeking a way to restore his magic crystal and regain his mighty magic powers. He's sought out the home of a legendary evil wizard, who's known by the name of... Barfo. I see why Barfo keeps his location a secret. But anyway, Barfo is the one who made the crystal, so naturally Pie-Rat reasons he can restore it as well. Suprisingly once on Glacia, Barfo's evil lair is pretty easy to find. His manservant, Hobart the Gnome, brings Pie-Rat before the wizard, and within moments the crystal is restored! Pie-Rat turns to thank Hobart, but Hobart suddenly turns into Vetvix!

Yes, Vetvix knew all along that Pie-Rat's quest would lead him here. And as she was once Barfo's student in the ways of evil magic, she knew she could get the old coot to go along with her plan. Barfo returns the crystal to Vetvix, restoring her powers. And so Pie-Rat, a recurring villain in three whole books, is unceremoniously done away with, as Vetvix teleports him inside an asteroid, trapping him in solid rock. Even if the asteroid were hollow or he displaced the interior when he teleported in, no doubt he'll suffocate within moments. That's pretty harsh.

With that over, we rejoin Pet Force as they approach Kennel. K-Niner's battle cruiser spots them incoming, and shoots the ship down, even in spite of Abnermal's forcefields. Pet Force bail out of the ship, and Abnermal uses his powers to make snow to cushion their fall. Upon landing, a contingent of mutant animals attack. The mooks aren't much, but K-Niner himself puts up an impressive fight. However, one of the mooks pulls a gun and points it at Compooky. This is why Compooky usually stays aboard the ship, but that wasn't an option. Rather than let their friend get hurt, Pet Force surrenders.

Pet Force is held prisoner separately from Compooky, with both the cell's technology making it freeze-proof and threats of "don't break out, or we'll shoot your compatriot". Their imprisonment is not long, though, as suddenly the power goes out. Pet Force takes advantage of the situation and make their escape, quickly running into Compooky. K-Niner didn't think the hyper-intelligent teddy bear needed a high security cell, and just locked him in the basement. It was easy for him to then break out and shut down the local power grid. This also has the side effect of turning off the control collars the humans were wearing. How convenient!

With control of the planet now tilted in their favour, Pet Force now has time to both fix their ship and reverse the polarity of the brain-boosting weapons, turning the dog population of Kennel back to their normal selves. Though the experience did change the pet owners of Kennel. Having experienced life in their pets' shoes (so to speak) for a bit, they've resolved to treat their canine companions a bit more equally. More being allowed on the furniture, less stupid tricks for treats. Still, Pet Force can't stay long, and they head off in pursuit of K-Niner's battle cruiser. This is why most superheroes don't have spaceships (Jedis don't count): if your enemy also has one, they can flee way more easily than on foot.

Not willing to let another place go to the dogs, as it were, Pet Force catches up with K-Niner. With his previous success, Vetvix has stepped up the timetable and sent him after Polyester right away. Emperor Jon is in danger! They enter the planet's atmosphere, and are attacked by fighter craft. They fend them off, but their weapons system is damaged in the fight, so they can't simply use the reverse brain-rays and solve it quickly. The team splits up instead: Garzooka and Abnermal will go after K-Niner, while the other three will find the planet's power source and knock out the collars, since that worked so well the last time.

The two heroes quickly make short work of K-Niner's guards, and then turn the battle to deal with the Dog of Doom himself. While the struggle goes on, the rest of Pet Force reach the planet's power grid. Using a clever tactic, Compooky overloads the power and causes and electrical storm that simultaneously undoes the brain-boosting effect and shorts out the enslavement collars. There's only a few pages left, after all, and we have to wrap this up.  K-Niner is reverted back into an ordinary dog, and the emperor is reverted to an ordinary non-enslaved person. The day is saved!

And now once again, Pet Force prepares to return to their own universe. However... when the spell clears, the five heroes are still standing there. Something is blocking the passage between dimensions, and Pet Force is trapped. And while Pet Force's adventures have taken place between mere moments in their own universe, they have always returned quickly enough that Jon didn't notice a thing. But this time, as Jon retrieves the volleyball and turns around to his pets, he's surprised to find they've all vanished into thin air...

Book 4: Menace of the Mutanator

This one's very striking because of its more painted look compared to the heavy black outlines the rest of the covers have. Does this one count as having the whole team on the cover? Because, spoilers, that's what the Mutanator is: the rest of Pet Force mashed up into a villain. Again, though, that's definitely a striking image that'd draw in readers to a comic cover. In fact, while Garzooka may be over-used as a cover focus, several of these also show him imperiled in some way, and that's nice for character stuff. That helps balace it a bit~

I wanna say, before we start, that I'm impressed by the continuity for the series as a whole. They could've just written each story as a standalone, but for a series of 100-page children's novellas starring Garfield characters as superheroes, things happen in these books. Like, maybe not sweeping status quo changes, but events affect the plot of each next book down the line. And that's where we pick up! Right where the last book left off, with Pet Force now stuck in the alternate universe, unable to return home to Jon. But if they can't go home to Jon, well, maybe then events will conspire to bring Jon to them~

Yep, because Jon happens to wander into the room where they keep the copy of Pet Force #100 that acts as a portal to their universe, he gets transported into the Pet Force universe. And since Emperor Jon is still an extant entity, there's just two Jons now. Jon, of course, is a bit freaked out, and it takes several pages to explain the whole deal to him, and also have a showcase of all their powers to pad out the book some more. Eventually, they decide to call in Sorceror Binky to examine the problem. When he has a go of it, a sudden tornado emerges from the cauldron and whisks away Pet Force--save for Garzooka, whose prodigious strength keeps him anchored.

Garzooka heads out in the Lightspeed Lasagna to track Pet Force's signature, glad to get away from a double trouble Jon. And while he's searching, the scene cuts to Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear. Hey, one of her bases actually lasted more than one book! This is where Pet Force has been transported to, once more in a power-proof cell. Vetvix monologues to the heroes, as she is wont to do, explaining that she's the one who cast the spell to keep them from returning home. And further, she's brought them here to mutate them into her servants.

While Emperor Jon exposits about his backstory (turns out he is not of royal blood, and has about as much legitimate claim to the throne as you or I do), the search continues. Sorceror Binky detects Pet Force, giving them all a view of what happens next. The trapped members of Pet Force are literally broken apart and reassembled: Odious' body, Compooky's brain inserted into the chest, Abnermal's hands, and Starlena's head. She christens this beast "Mutanator", and it is soullessly obedient. I also wanna say, Mutanator's kind of a non-binary icon, aren't they? (The comic uses "it", but it was 1998 and alternative pronouns weren't really a thing yet.) Muscular, masculine body, but confident enough to still wear lipstick. It's a look, is all I'm saying~

Mutanator continues to possess the combined powers of Pet Force as well. Vetvix sends them to attack the planet Armory to gear up before attempting to conquer Polyester. And meanwhile, thanks to the convenience of being able to scan all of Compooky's memories now that his brain is part of Mutanator, Vetvix has the perfect trap to spring on Garzooka--or should she say Garfield. Yes, she really knows the whole origin for Pet Force now, and now she knows all Garfield's weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and probably blood type and other dating profile stats~

Thus, when Garzooka receives the coordinates from Emperor Jon and arrives at the Floating Fortress, he finds himself menaced by giant spiders. Vetvix couldn't think of a way to get Mondays to attack him, so the Giant Spider Invasion will do. Spiders are apparently very formiddable foes, Garzooka's personal fears aside. They can swat gamma hairballs out of the air, they can construct webs as quickly as certain Marvel heroes, and their hairy exoskeletons are resistant to both claw and strength. But despite his fear and Abnermal's running commentary, Garzooka manages to trounce the spiders with a carefully applied flame--taking Vetvix's blueprints with them.

Garzooka heads out once again to track down the Mutanator, leaving his less-than-all-together friends in the safety of their forcefield prison. While he's off, we return to the perspective of his target. Using their combined powers, the Mutanator swiftly conquers the planet Armory and sets their sights on Polyester next. It's not a bad plan, honestly. With the stockpile from Armory, not only will the Mutanator be more powerful, Polyester won't be able to use the planet for backup. Fortunately for the two Jons, though, Garzooka intercepts the Mutanator before they can leave Armory.

The fight's actually pretty good. Very back and forth. But even despite Garzooka's great strength, the Mutanator wins in the end. Thankfully, Vetvix puts her conquest of Polyester on hold to take the time to retrieve Garzooka and add his power to the Mutanator. This, of course will be her undoing--in a completely ridiculous way, of course. For back in the palace, our universe's Jon is watching Pet Force's struggles with the scrying cauldron. And he leans in a bit too close. Sowhile Vetvix is prepping the machine to divide Garzooka's body like she did the rest of Pet Force, Jon suddenly tumbles through the dimensional warp caused by the cauldron and lands on Vetvix, which causes her to put the machine in reverse. A real Jonnus ex cauldrona there, eh?

The Mutanator disappears, their existance as a unique being wiped out as their pieces return to their proper Pet Force owners. With Pet Force reassembled, Garzooka takes out Vetvix with one of his gamma-radiated hairballs while she's distracted by Jon. Pet Force decides that the vile veternarian should have a taste of her own medicine, and stick her in the body-splicing machine with some of her guards. This divides them all up and mixes them into bizarre combinations. It also has the side effect of disabling Vetvix's magic, so they can return to their own universe now.

The book wraps up here. Pet Force first returns to Armory to both return the stolen weapons and also make repairs on the buildings that were damaged in Garzooka's fight with the Mutanator. That's the sort of thing I'd like to see in more superhero stories in general. The two Jons part ways, with the Emperor believing the other Jon's heroism to have been deliberate. And thus are Garfield and friends returned home. And just like the end of their first adventure, where Garfield couldn't be sure if it really happened, so too is Jon's memory fading. Had he really witnessed all that? Only his pets know for sure--and in this universe, they can't talk~

Book 5: Attack of the Lethal Lizards

This one's another wrap-around, showing the rest of Pet Force engaging the remaining Lethal Lizards on the back cover. This is one advantage books have over comics: a front and back cover you can use for your story-telling. The Lizard designs are pretty good for a villain group too. Like Pet Force, they don't adhere to a particular theme, but they do look good individually. Garzooka roasting a hot dog on a stick might be a bit too comedic for a superhero story, though. It sets the tone wrong. How "lethal" can they possibly be if Garzooka is out here roasting hot dogs in the middle of battle?

So here we go, last book. After the usual recap, we open with Jon explaining to Garfield and friends his latest plans: they're going to WackyWorld, a theme park dedicated to Jon's favourite cartoon, The Wackies. Both Garfield and Nermal think the show is lame, and if those two agree on something, you know it must be so. In less lame universes, however, trouble is once more a-brewing. So it turns out Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear has been orbiting the swamp planet Reptilius this whole time. And her various experiments in the last two books have been radiating the planet in magical energy...

From that magical power, three reptiles find themselves uplifted in intelligence and granted fantastic powers. Please say hello to our three main villains for this book: Snake, an enormous snake (the only one without an anthro design) with stretching powers; Chameleon, who can shapeshift; and Dragon, a komodo dragon with fire breath and the bad attitude to match. While Snake and Chameleon figure out their powers, Dragon declares himself the leader as he's clearly the smartest, strongest, and most powerful. They name themselves the Lethal Lizards and start plotting how to rule the planet.

After that exciting intro, though, the book kind of slows down. First we get a whole chapter of Emperor Jon also deciding to go on vacation, to planet Funlandia. With Vetvix out of commission for a while, there's no better time. In short, he's out of the castle and Sorceror Binky is in charge. This is followed by a chapter of Jon and his pets at WackyWorld. It's certainly an accommodating amusement park to allow pets on its grounds. Garfield at least gets along with the food, but if you know anything about amusement park food prices, the amount Garfield eats will make your wallet weep. Jon takes his mind off it by dragging the pets along to a ride. Surely they have to be under the height restriction~

Fortunately, we get back to the actual stars of this book, and we see a bit more of their dynamic. Snake is the sort who sucks up to whoever's calling themselves "Boss" at the moment. Dragon is power-hungry, and it's clear he'll sell out his allies at the drop of a hat. Chameleon is Starscream. Anyway, they trek through the jungles of Reptilius until they find a downed spaceship. Reviewing the logs reveals it was a scout ship from Vetvix, and they also learn of Vetvix and her mission. However, they don't know where Emperor Jon lives, so they crowd into the the newly christened Rapacious Reptile and set course for the stars.

The first planet they come across is a world called Klod. Quickly the Lethal Lizards beat up the populace and find the local government. Chameleon shapeshifts into a dignitary, pretending to be an advance entourage for Emperor Jon, schmoozing with the governor until he learns both what Jon looks like and the name of his planet. With this information secure, Chameleon nips out suddenly, and the trio sets forth towards Polyester. Governer Klutz calls up the palace as soon as the reptiles depart, and reports the incident to Sorceror Binky.

Binky wastes no time, and he dials up Pet Force. Since all five are in one place, he's able to pull them through even without them being near the gateway through issue #100's cover. Convenient! Pet Force, however, does waste time, as a lengthy comedy scene eats up several pages before we just get on with it. Eventually, the situation is conveyed, and they figure it's safer to keep Emperor Jon on Funlandia for the time being. Compooky stays behind to help plan some strategies, while the rest of Pet Force boards the Lightspeed Lasagna to intercept the Lethal Lizards before they even arrive.

Pet Force spends the next few minutes both scanning for incoming ships and bickering with each other, so I'm very glad when the Rapacious Reptile appears on their detectors before too long. Dragon threatens the ship, telling them to move or he'll knock them aside. It's a spaceship, dude, you can move in three dimensions. The ships trade shots, and while Chameleon's piloting is actually pretty good due to his independently-rotating eyeballs, eventually both ships crash land on whatever planet is nearby.

Both ships crash right next to each other, which is improbable but less ridiculous than some of the contrivances in these books, so I'm okay with it. Now you'd think what with the enemies being reptiles and Abnermal having freezing powers that this battle would be over really easily, but no. In fact, Garzooka and Dragon are pretty evenly matched. Snake turns out to be immune to Starlena's siren song because snakes don't have external ears. See, now there's a contrivance I find a bit weird. Snake swallows Abnermal whole, and Chameleon and Odious get literally tongue-tied. The Lethal Lizards actually live up to their name pretty well.

As the fight continues, half of both sides are laid out when Compooky comes rushing up, saying he has an urgent message from the emperor. And that's when he sucker-punches the team. It was actually Chameleon in disguise, having gotten knocked away when he and Odious separated. So yeah, round one goes to the Lizards, and they make their escape first. Pet Force regroups, and they give chase. The Lizards have enough head start to really lay siege to Polyester before Pet Force arrives, though. They even get access to the palace using Chameleon's shapeshifting, leading to Sorceror Binky letting slip the real location of the emperor just as Pet Force arrives.

Another fight ensues--see, now it's really a superhero story--and the Lizards leave again 2 and 0. This time Snake uses his venomous fangs to attack Starlena. This leads to the weirdest contrivance yet. Maybe not the worst, but definitely the weirdest. They have only minutes to save Starlena. So how do they do it? Well, they notice that Odious drools quite a lot. It's very "fluid output". So they have Binky magically reverse Odious' drooling, so that he has "fluid input" on his tongue instead. It becomes a big suction sponge and sucks the poison out of Starlena. They then restore the drooling, and he just harmlessly drools out the poison. What.

With their teammate saved, Pet Force pursues the Lethal Lizards to Funlandia. They get there just in time to rescue Emperor Jon from their clutches, with Garzooka and Odious combining their strength to literally rip a kiddie ride out of the ground. Starlena corners Chameleon in a hall of mirrors, turning his own trick against him. Snake is undone by Odious' strength. And Garzooka fights Dragon to a standstill, finally trapping all three on a roller coaster still operating. When the ride comes to an end, Abnermal freezes them all until the authorities can retrieve them.

Naturally, Emperor Jon thinks it's all part of the show (because Jon is dimwitted in any universe). The Lizards are sent to a lizard-proof prison (seriously, it specifies this), and Pet Force returns to their own universe. As usual, Jon didn't notice his pets go missing during the dark amusement park ride. The book concludes on an ominous note, however, as the ship carrying the Lethal Lizards makes its jump to lightspeed just as it passes the Floating Fortress of Fear. The shockwave knocks over some debris that reactivates the combining machine, restoring Vetvix to her full evil might once more!

The end!

No, really. Those five books are all there was. I hear it may have continued into the comics, but I don’t know how accurate that is. I didn’t really look into it.

But boy, what a ride, huh? Let’s dissect the books one at a time, since it only seems fair to take them as individual stories.

The Outrageous Origin: It’s a fairly basic origin story, I’d say. It kind of has to be. I guess my main gripe is that, like Rita Repulsa’s entire run on Power Rangers, the heroes never fight the main villain directly. In fact, there’s barely even an evil plot in this one. You have henchmen and some traps, and that’s about it for the menace.

Pie-Rat’s Revenge: A cautionary tale about why you treat your minions with respect. This one’s pretty good, but the events depicted on the cover make up such a small part of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more fun if Garzooka was turned at the beginning of the story? Book 4 would at least do the reverse of that, so it’s not a major complaint~

K-Niner, Dog of Doom: I think this one’s about as middle of the road as you can get. What a coincidence that it’s also the middle of the series! Like I said in the recap portion, it’s a shame that Pie-Rat’s story ended here. This one definitely feels more “villain of the week” than most.

Menace of the Mutanator: This one might be the best book in the series. Garzooka, alone, battling against the best parts of his team? That’s gripping stuff. I guess the main problem is that the Mutanator isn’t really a character in and of themselves. Like, K-Niner, he may have been a generic rent-a-villain type, but he had a personality. Mutanator is little more than an extention of Vetvix’s will.

Attack of the Lethal Lizards: I’m a bit split on this one. The bits with the titular Lizards are great. They steal the show! But the parts where it focuses on either Jon kind of drag, and Pet Force is a bit too jokey here. Like, I get the point is that they’ve relaxed into their roles now, and there’s not much point of doing it as a Garfield story if they don’t actually use the character personalities, but... I dunno. It’s good, but it could have been better~

And that’s it! Like, I dunno how to wrap this up. Pet Force was neither my first exposure to superheroes nor my first introduction to the Garfield brand (you can thank Saturday morning cartoons for both of those). But for some reason, maybe just the absurdly goofy premise, it always kinda stuck with me. And I think that’s a good enough reason to make it my 10th anniversary review, don’t you~?

[ghostmartyr]

/clears throat/ so, Immi, I hear you like the locked tomb, which is fantastic! from one person also escaping the snk series into TLT to another, what did you think of the characters and plot in HtN? are there any things you're most excited to see when Alecto comes out in 2022?

-pats lifeboat- This baby can fit so much trauma.

SPOILERS, naturally.

With another paragraph informing the curious that unspoiled is the way to go into HtN, since if you aren’t lost and confused, are you really reading Harrow the Ninth?

I read it all in one day, and that was a choice. It does mean my memory and understanding of what all went on is slightly dependent on someone else on the internet exploding over a particular set of paragraphs and explaining their significance to me, but I still enjoyed the hell out of it.

HtN disappointed me on one front in that I was hoping seeing more of Harrow 1.0 would help out any future fic endeavors. On everything else, like the first one, being told the story is such a good time that I’m willing to wait on a full comprehension of where it’s going.

I also really like second person.

What I loved most about HtN is how even without Gideon mentioned until very, very late in the book, you can feel her absence everywhere. In the wrong bubble flashbacks you’re commanded to examine the strangeness, but even in Harrow going about her day, the isolation and the wrongness of it decorate her every action. She’s alone, and she shouldn’t be, and the loss she’s unaware of bleeds into a constant echo of grief.

I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated absence as a narrative tool so much. Obviously griddlehark hours go hard once they start in HtN, but even before then, there is so much power to their connection that looking into a world where it never exists still manages to punch you in the heart with how much each one inhabits everything the other is.

The whole series is amping me up with a few thoughts on loneliness, honestly. Gideon and Harrow grow up alone on the Ninth, save for each other. It takes leaving for that to be any kind of good thing. The first book is tag team Among Us with everyone in their little clusters, slowly learning what other people are about as they all drop dead.

The second book has a different vibe and different plot things going on, but it’s similar in that the protagonist gets thrown into a world they don’t fit and have to put on a show. Only now there are even fewer people to familiarize with, with that number correlating directly to how they all killed the person closest to keeping them from being alone.

Lyctorhood is taking the person dearest to your heart and trapping them there forever while they’re stripped of everything that made them who they are.

...Also Ianthe is there.

Gideon, Mercy, and Augustine are the last Lyctors standing after 10,000 years. There were only seven, starting out. Sixteen acolytes who came to the First. The only pair who didn’t succeed in condensing themselves is separated from the pack and sent to live away from their peers on a tiny planet that no one has anything good to say about.

Alecto is John’s -- who even knows, past A Lot, and he puts her to sleep and locks her in a prison no one but he can get past.

God has seven friends. More if you want to count the people in the Cohort, but realistically, he has seven friends. Then they keep dying.

Harrow spends HtN in a spaceship with five people.

One is trying to kill her.

One ordered that one to try to kill her.

Two could not care less about the useless baby Lyctor.

One is Ianthe.

There is no real endgame. There is surviving life, and life has become a game of running as far away as possible so you don’t share your ruin upon your inevitable death.

It’s bleak and sad.

Harrow’s healthiest relationships are with dead people, and some of them she didn’t know at all in life.

Reiterating it, the most plot significant bit of the world is finding someone else in the world, swearing yourself to them, and smashing your souls together until you’ve lost the connection entirely.

My brain’s not in the best place so I can’t do more than gesture loudly at it, but a few people have mentioned that the series’ thesis is a counter to Ianthe’s statement that love is acquisitive.

Harrow tightens her hold around Gideon until Gideon would rather she just strangle her and get it over with, all things considered. It fucks them both up, and when they start working to get past it, circumstance wraps a chain around both their throats.

The necromancers who become imperfect Lyctors have all acquired their cavaliers, and besides the cav, it kills that bond.

Harrow’s rejection of that is why Gideon’s soul is still in the world of the living (and John blood).

She has spent her entire life eating pieces of Gideon to keep herself a horrid imitation of whole, and when she is finally offered that, she refuses.

Grief and how Harrow just can’t are active elements of the book, and Magnus gives her more therapy in five minutes talking about it than she has ever had in her life, but the reason why that isn’t the end of Gideon is because, unlike all the other Lyctors, Harrow turns the offer down.

With the exception of Babs and Ianthe, the relationship between cavaliers and necros about to do the Lyctor thing is cavaliers promising to burn for an eternity while their necromancer lives off the fumes.

Fuck that is Harrow’s response.

Cytherea says, in the aftermath, that they had the choice to stop.

Harrow stops.

A lifetime of doing exactly what Gideon is telling her to do with her death, and Harrow chooses to stop.

Harrow remembers Ortus’ poetry. She regularly sees her congregation off to their deaths. She keeps Gideon’s glasses. She views Palamedes, head exploded and all, as an infinitely better person than she is because of the quality of his exemplary character. She pulls Gideon the First from the incinerator on the night she plans to kill him.

Kiddo has so many fucking issues, but somewhere, she has learned to respect people for being people. That’s why she and Gideon are the heroes of the story, ultimately, and Ortus saying that they’re heroes worthy of the Ninth doesn’t fall flat. They’re actually trying.

Where that puts us for Alecto, I don’t pretend to know.

Since the first book is the temptation of an end to isolation, only to have it snatched away, the second book is the continuation of isolation with a few promising sparks of human connection that pave the way for hope...

That leaves the third book to shed the isolation and allow the connections to thrive.

With Gideon and Harrow MIA.

I know that the books kick things up into high gear in the final acts each time, but if they’re both gone for the majority of the book, no matter how much fun it is, I’m going to miss them. They’re the core leads, and I don’t want to be without them in the final part.

The 2022 release date has aged my soul. I deliberately planned my GtN read to land a month before HtN came out, then suffered when that was delayed. When really that was nothing at all. I hate waiting.

(Insert note that I’m very glad they aren’t forcing Muir to rush anything out. It’s been a rough time, but also, just in general authors should have the opportunity to create the best versions of their art they can, so the extra time hurts, but it’s obviously for the best.)

What I’m most excited for is probably the cover art. The first two have been awesome, and the artist said he’d likely do print sales for all three when the third’s revealed. My wallet cries but my heart does not.

What I dare not be excited for is the potential for Gideon and Harrow meeting again and perhaps hugging. In their own bodies.

I’d take other bodies, but ideally, y’know.

Also I would love for Harrow to finally meet her popsicle girlfriend.

I doubt it would be a wholly positive experience, but by golly I want it. Maybe they could hug too. It would probably kill Harrow again, but who doesn’t expect several people to die again in the third book?

However it plays out, I’m expecting to enjoy AtN. The writing’s the sort that I’ll happily follow wherever it goes. For everything else, there’s fanfic. The only real worry I have is the whole book will be narrated by Ianthe, and while I mentally groan at that, I actually find Ianthe’s commentary delightful, so even in the worst case scenario I’m having a good time.

Thank you so much for the ask.