#i KNOW we said we didnt want to talk abt this but its haunting me

[spawnofthedivine]

oh jeez,, a sys blog we really liked is proship.. i know we are neutral/neither on the shipcourse topic but like. calling yourself either title is very uh. hmm.

big ass long rant about our shipcourse stance under the cut. in short: its complicated and varies a lot. we do not like the black/white views on proship/antiship stances, it is a giant grey area with a shit ton of shades in it. reminder that we are on neither side for a reason.

we have all proship dni because they are typically not following their own stance correctly and we dont want to interact w most comshippers (which.. technically we would fall under that title but . yknow. we are not into that label. and it implies we are on a specific side of the argument. plus a lot of them make us uncomfortable) and then our "violent antishippers" dni is when someone is actively supporting harassment over fictional topics.

we also fall under a lot of different parts of either side. our opinions throughout the system are different. spyte and pebbles r a lot more relaxed with "problematic" stuff (we hate that term), while some of us are more strict w it.

we absolutely go by "dont like, dont read. also tag your shit correctly". we do not harass people, we might not like the things theyre writing, we might think its disgusting and a red flag, but we are not going to click on it and make a comment about it or interact in any way. we will simply block and move on.

while we technically fall under the "comship" label: no, our fictional interests are not triggering nor does it impact our outside experiences. we are not "loli/shotacon". we enjoy genuine and realistic depictions of abuse, while keeping it interesting in a fictional standpoint (which makes it a little unrealistic like the limits of the human body. but the impact of abuse is realistic). it is mainly for the enjoyment of reading the story and/or enjoying the plot, or to vent if we're the ones writing it. we have never read anything fictional (that wasnt intended to be taken as a real, intentional opinion) that has severely impacted our world view. and i doubt it ever will.

fiction is able to be seperated from reality in specific topics. ex: abuse, even when "romanticized", can either be posted with a disclaimer of "i dont find this hot irl". or not, and you should assume they dont find it hot anyway. you should expect that person to not support genuine non consensual abuse unless there is evidence of the contrary (btw! having smth as a kink does not mean theyre into GENUINE non consensual things!! the fact that its labeled a kink strongly suggests that it is a consensual thing)

HOWEVER, when things are treated as they would in reality, ex: bigoted political comics, they are supposed to be taken as a reality equivalent!! they are trying to turn that comic into a real scenario! that is what they want! THAT is when fiction absolutely impacts reality!

now it gets a lot more complicated when it comes to stuff like COD or whatever other war/combat games like that, which can be taken as anti-military or pro-military. which.. it really depends on who youre taking to. which is the point. it gets complicated, it sometimes changes peoples opinions about reality, and sometimes it doesnt. should the intentions of the game be expressed explicitly, whether outside the game or not? yeah, probably. but it doesnt (to the majority of the public, at least). thats why its complicated. do violent video games inherently make people violent by exposure? no, of course they dont. CAN they impact someones world view, thus their morals and such? yes. they have before, and they always will. it gets complicated, like i said. its from person to person depending if other people were the reason, their environment, or simply the video game alone (which i dont believe is very common)

its all about intention and the way it is expressed. COD does not explicitly (to my knowledge) express its intentions, so people can take it any way they want. political comics are aiming for a specific opinion change, and is explicit about that (its a political comic). now: ao3 fics about sexualized domestic abuse? thats.. REALLY unlikely to be expressed in a way that means "yeah i like this irl when non consensual." if it is? they should probably be investigated for that behavior, that is obviously not fucking good. if it isnt? its just a sexualized abuse fic. who knows why theyre writing it. could be to cope, could be for fun, could be to get off on it, etc. people have always had "weird" kinks n shit like that. im not here to dictate censorship for others comfort or whatever.

cw on various things for this list but if ur curious about what "comship" stuff we like if its important to you: its mostly various types of abuse, yandere topics, "noncon", and teenage underage (which we generally do not read, though we have a few exceptions). the underage we do not find attractive or "hot" and it is ALWAYS for vent writing purposes and the underage character are typically self inserts. any character younger than 15 is repulsive to us to imagine writing about in a way that we would with the older teenagers. we have been writing about/making art of most of these topics since we were a little over 4 years old /serious

anyways uhhh yeah. shipcourse! fucking hate it! everything is black and white over here! where are the shades of grey!!! fuck !!!!!

[iceglade]

wuk lamat could only have ever been a trans catgirl btw

1.4k words (sorry), dawntrail level 100 spoilers:

thats like the whole point when the dawntrail final arc antagonists are examinations/deconstructions the traditional gender roles. btw.

consider where mamook is in the story. consider who gulool ja ja is to tural.

ive been workshopping an essay about how a few of dawntrail's themes are connected, i think theres an in depth conversation that can be had...

95-100 cannot be separated from the cultural context that came before it , regarding the spirituality of Living Memory, sure, but also regarding legacy and filling the legendary gulool ja ja's shoes™ with mamook being where it is as the lid on a jar that was being filled the entire time to complete a jar mini ecosystem before we crack it open 30 years later in heritage found to see whats grown inside.

dawntrail doesnt go into sexism but it does go into racism, it does go into the psyche of the people who IN REAL WORLD TERMS want rich white men to be the ruling class and the people who arent traditional men who still support that concept. its all connected

like the WHOLE FIRST HALF OF THE GAME WAS ABOUT THE SECOND HALF OF THE GAME AND VICE VERSA GO BACK AND REPLAY THE FIRST PART PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. you NEED to learn about your culture and your traditions and your history and you NEED to embrace change and growth and outsider perspectives DO NOT TOSS ONE OUT FOR THE OTHER. THEY NEED TO WORK TOGETHER TO FILL THE IDEAL, REAL OR NOT, THAT YOU ARE TRYING TO FUFILL.

MAMOOK LEFT AN IMPRESSION ON ME and the solution presented was learn about one another. understand one another. know their problems. offer and accept help from outside perspectives and grow. which while neither perfect nor fully realized is a lot more than ive ever seen a video game do ever lol. history of war, lack of sunlight, difficulty with getting food, self inflicted self perpetuating community trauma, shunning outsiders, clinging to a status quo so toxic that its actively killing both adults and children - all of these are deeply, undeniably connected.

so.

i grew up in the south.. y'all know how it is!! in some places its BAD down here!!

BUILDING FROM THAT,

IMAGINE YOU LEARNED ALL THOSE LESSONS.

heritage found says okay, we did that. we listened to each other, we learned. we improved. and we did not force this growth upon anyone who didnt want it. we DIDNT abandon our culture or tradition. and STILL our problems persist!! people still die and to keep them alive we have to remember them but it hurts. it still hurts to mourn them. we are still haunted by our past and the burdens we inherited

THIS PLOT IS SOOOO STEEPED IN REAL WORLD CULTURAL PHENOMENON. BTW. THE SENSITIVITY READERS ARE OWED A CUT OUT OF EVERY DOLLAR SQUENIX GETS OFF OF THIS FOR THE REST OF TIME. AAGHH

CAUSE THIS COULDVE BEEN SO BAAADDDD , AND INSTEAD, I LOVVEEEED IT

idk...!!!!! i love living memory as an escalation of the idea that if they're remembered they never really die, but it hurts to remember. (GO BACK AND HANG OUT WITH THE YOK HUY RIGHT NOWWW) this is something real world people live by. was talking abt this with some friends and one of them mentioned living memory's color scheme "being the same orange being associated with ofrendas" in the same conversation where we were just. absorbing how deeply horrifying uploading your loved ones' memory to the cloud os (the wording used was, "the excision of memories of the dead"). one youtube comment said its like playing records of the dead and imagining they're alive again. i am haunted by erenville and graha - "i dont wish they were here again, i just wish they never died"

living memory is "if they're remembered they never really die" twisted to its illogical extreme.

the weight of that spirituality is no mistake. and shutting it down because is SUCH an ethically devastating thing to have to do even on top of your friends' parents passing on and you thinking the place was idk pretty or something (cause it rlly was) what the fuck what the fuuck

theres so much in this expansion about learning about and respecting other cultures and offering aid when its hurting others and themselves

which like makes me nervous for the patch quests btw because we need to talk about, that, vs , this is how we honor our dead

we had to shut it down because it was an active threat and was going to go nuclear but that was how they honored their dead

but i do trust this story. so i look forward to it.

all this to say i think it would be a misstep to have us go "hey dont do the soul thing do this instead". just as much as it would have been a HUGE misstep to have us be the protagonist of this expansion instead of lamat'yi.

AND FOR THE RECORD WUK HAD TO BE THE PROTAGONIST OF DAWNTRAIL FOR THIS REASON. I STAND BY THAT.

fuuuck, flaws and all, i love this game.

i have more to say about sphene and zoraal ja hold on this is all relevant to the original premise trust me.

SO YEAH.

but yeah its no surprise that

1. sphene, a traditionally feminine uwu perfect angel princess queen of REASON

2. (erenville voice) Zoraal Ja, The Warmongerer, Mine Is The Power Mine Is The Path, I Must Surpass My Man-The-Textbooks-Teach-About Father burnt out gifted oldest child king of RESOLVE

are DIRECTLY IN OPPOSITION to

1. wuk lamat, catgirl naruto young and dumb shonen protagonist with a big heart and an open mind warrior princess vow of RESOLVE

2. and koana, emotionally reserved well-studied STEM club vp advanced placement poly catboy vow of REASON

there are people who do not fit the stereotype who are suffering trying to achieve it who want it to end, and then there are people who Double Down.

regarding everyone who lives in tuliyollal and the extremely diverse area of tural, it cannot be stressed enough how Gulool Ja Ja is the guy they write the textbooks about. he is the perfect adventurer who traveled the world and united the people. in the context of the story he is the man on the cover of the fantasy novel ripped shirt rippling abs two swords and all. imagine being his gifted full of potential son ON TOP OF how insane being an oldest child makes you PLUS The War thats why zoraal ja is like that.

i love love love sphene. sphene is using zoraal ja. shes based off of the ideal of the sweet beloved disney princess/queen. she was using his agency like a weapon and her lack of agency as a shield and when he turned against her own people , which he said very clearly that he would do, wuk tells her that she needs to actually help the people she loves and do what she can do, and she interprets that from there - it just so happens that "true to herself" puts her in direct opposition to the person who was encouraging her to be that way.

for the homestuck fans shes a muse and hes a lord IM BEGGING YOU DONT CLICK OUT PLEASE LET ME FINISH MY SENTA

WUK AND KOANA WILL NOT FILL THE SHOES OF THE IDEAL MAN LEADER IN THE EYES OF THOSE WHO WANT A MORE TRADITIONAL LEADER UNTIL THEY MARCH UPON THEIR CASTLE AND STRIKE THEM DOWN WITH THE SAME HATRED THAT THEY STRUCK THE PAST GENERATION DOWN, zoraal ja says, in no uncertain terms

and zoraal ja is wrong.

they repel the second attack on tuliyollal because they ask for help. wuk DOES get a good hit on zoraal ja in heritage found. and zoraal ja throws away the ultimatum he himself delivered by throwing away his army, kidnapping his son, overdosing on aether, and leaving the moment its clear that brute force is not going to take wuk lamat's community away from her.

and sphene cant use him as an excuse anymore.

sphene was programmed to do ANYTHING to accomplish an infinitely increasingly difficult goal. she who cursed me with this soft and powerless nature. my desire to protect my people transcends all others. is there no way to make peace with tuliyollal? if it were you, could you have found a better way? i cant bear to lose them - not again!

there will only ever be more dead, forever.

i rlly want to go into that but its a completely separate topic for another time i just.. love these characters. i love what theyve done with this place.

but no parts 1 and 2 are the same part. dont discard tradition, dont reject innovation. wuk lamat put it best

@ bakool ja ja

@ sphene

what do YOU want? beyond the stereotype your community wanted you to fill?

[popcornaddict500]

man this is partially gonna sound weird as hell but big personal incoherent oc/grief vent down below

there's... something jarring to me abt losing oc ships I've had for SUCH a long time (in regards to being dumped by a close friend whom I had said ships with)

cause its like. these ships had almost become canon in my mind. I thought about them a lot, they were so Real to me.

not to mention the kids those ocs had together cause we literally made those together. designed those ocs together. I can't bear to part with them as painful as it is to keep them

I'm trying to cope but I find myself truly missing them and it's like.... i some weird way I want to find a way to fit this into a scenario. to idk work through the pain?

like like

Olivia waking up from what seemed to be a really long dream.

she had a loving husband and kids and everything. she was happy.

but she wakes up now as though it had never been- because that's kinda how it felt to me

looking around her empty bedroom. no husband, no kids, no proof of the life she had lived.

but it felt so real

it felt so long

but she's the lonely, haunted woman she was. not the happy woman finally finding peace in her family.

and she's not okay about that (neither am I)

same goes for my other ocs who were in ships with this friend. Adam, too. the one oc of mine they claimed was their favourite.

makes me look at him differently, even if slightly.

idk it's weird. those ships meant a lot to me as strange as that may sound. the things me and that friend made together meant so much to me. and I'm still struggling to deal with everything being gone now. what we did is still here, I can still read it, but it's like... it's wrong, now. it doesn't feel right to think of our ocs like that anymore as much as it pains me.

(bigger not oc related text coming in)

I'm not okay about it even though a few weeks have passed since it happened.

I'm still grieving losing someone so dear to me over a small issue that didn't need to happen at all. I was never given a chance to fix anything and it's left me with a ball of feelings I can't express. I couldn't even respond.

I miss talking to them, I miss the oc stuff we talked about, and so many other things...

maybe it sounds trivial to an outsider but the truth is I value my ocs and their ships a lot and when I've had ships for so long with someone I cared about this much it's like... a part of me being ripped away, when they ripped me out of their life, too.

you might've thought that by cutting me out of your life I would only lose being able to talk to you but. it's so much more than that. everything that was influenced by you. everything that i made because of you. everything I had collected in my mind and cherished such as the oc stuff. heck even some of my ocs were influenced by you and now are different for me because of that association. everything that reminds me of you, things I would've sent you if I was still able to talk to you. the stories in my mind of our ocs. everything that made you an important part of my life. it's all still there but now it tastes sour and miserable. tainted if you will. I lost someone I cared for deeply. someone I thought cared for me too. and it didnt even have to go this way but how the fuck was I supposed to know something was wrong when you never told me? why did you never tell me and then bail at the very end?

did our friendship mean so little to you that it was so easy for you to cut me off like I was nothing? I think, surely you must miss me in some way. surely you realize this wasn;t the right or the mature thing to do. surely you cared about me in some shape or form. surely you were happy knowing me and talking to me too. you wouldn't have stuck around for as long as you did otherwise.

before it all happened you said 'I rlly don't want to hurt your feelings'........ and then followed that up by doing. possibly the most hurtful thing you could have. being uncomfortable is one thing but not giving the other a chance at all to fix this supposed issue or even letting me respond to these- rather unfair and shallow claims you made about me is... so cowardly. I had hoped you trusted me.

I don't want to say maybe its better this way cause honestly it doesn't feel that way but. if you were fine treating me this way, someone who was supposedly one of your closest friends, then... maybe you weren't the amazing friend I thought you were.

especially because I would never treat you like this. all I ever did was love you. maybe there's another reason you did not talk to me? maybe you had some issues over on your end that you weren't willing to talk about which resulted in this big breakup? was it worth cutting me out of your life over?

I *seriously* hope you know that what you've done has hurt me in a way nothing has ever hurt me before. and it will continue to do so for a very long time I'm afraid. if you don't know, it's like... how could you do something like this and think I'd be fine? think I wouldn't be wrecked over it? truthfully I don't think I'll ever forget it.

sorry to whatever poor soul is reading this by the way lol, just had to get my emotional vomit out there. this isnt even everything lol

so yeah. emotional pain tuesday anyone?

[livecharliereaction]

Ill probably make charumiq2 for next ep for easier navigation for meeee But yeah thats done now thats um aaahahahha

- bernkastel showed up i am so happy. YAY! So many mentions of this lambdadelta i kind of thought shed be satoko somehow but im not seeing it rn well see when she shows up

- i rly hope the witches wont stay as only ????? characters n get weaved into the main story but guess what im like 100% sure thatll happen at least somehow but i dont know how. Miss bern said shed help me YAYYY! So nice of her

- i can rly see what ppl mean when they say it starts slow though it wasnt a problem for me bcs i liked the characters in the family already but i can totally see it being a problem for someone else Bcs like i knew theres witches. So theres the whole "ooh u think itll be a regular murder mystery but its fantasy" "is there a 19th person ooh" Well that just doesnt happen at all. However smth ive been noticing about wtc that although theres always secrets and thus always reveals theres SO MANY mysteries that the story doesnt rly lose THAT much if u know smth (But its still important to me that i get to know things in the order the author wants me to like in general so spoilers r still being crazy avoided...)

- i had the theory that beatrice was very young when kinzo met her and was traumatized by his "love" and then died and her spirit is sort of haunting the mansion but its not entirely clicking what that would be so im ditching it for now

- i know tea party and ????? cant be taken tooooooooo seriously but theyre the main reason i dont think that anymore See Im kind of doubting the existence of a human beatrice altogether. Sure bernkastel was kinda rikaing around but it seems too complicated to compare it to that so no way

- I still cant forget lambdadelta sharing some resemblance to satoko (from the shit that i saw BEFORE i was avoiding spoilers Im talking very very slight like rly just hair n eye color) but i feel like we wont see her in the next ep at all. Im imagining (hoping) each ep might have a new witch in it. I cant imagine the gold thing going all the way through 8 eps so... (Bcos What riddle takes that long.)

- Favs r still maria and natsuhi from the human side at least Like that didnt change. And i doubt it would I also like jessica a lot i do

- motherhood goes crazy Natsuhi and Jessica i could die and also marias lack of motherly love rips me apart

- Im very curious about the physics of this though or i mean like What now? Are we going back in time? If so how much????? Im kinda imagining its just kinda similar all over again but with different sacrifices each time but the ways that can be done r hmm. Someone else might try to do as the epitaph says and thus killing people but yeah.

- Not to be battler but if ep1 were to actually be a humans doing itd be maria (u know) natsuhi (absolutely not sorry for even saying it queen but she was running around w the rifle and all and had a lot of control over some situations) or kinzo (its easiest to believe that corpse wasnt really Him out of the corpses The toe thing isnt convincing to me but theres the problem of Ok whose body is it charlie? and i wouldnt know)

- Excited and baffled it was 12 hrs i feel like i started it what maybe this week idfk School starts again so i have to slow down the pace but thats ok...

- I thought the role of "the witchs messenger" might change too but i kind of hope its just marias job each time i liked the way she did it shes so fun

- no clue abt the rules of this world yet but im excited bcs theyre spelling it out to Think about it so u know it wont be obvious I dont even think i Can make a good guess rn

- natsuhi save me

[sorikkung]

just had a horrible day time for a pick me up 🤩 or to fall deeper down the hole, you never know with natgig, but yk what, that can be cathartic <3

the way i immediately knew it was gonna be yeonjun... it was either gonna be his past self or yeonjun but either way his past is coming back to haunt him oh boy im ready for this to HURT

flashbacks to that one chapter w dream mingi bc That Is Not Yeonjun!! oh my fucking god. every time i think youve come up with a way to emotionally torture wooyoung in the most psychologically damaging way possible for him specifically you outdo yourself and make it worse. what the fuck. my BABY. FREE MY BOY HE DID NOTHING WRONG!!!!

"He deserves this." NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Or maybe you really are as useless as he claims.” you really said "lets aim for every single trauma wound we can fit in one character then stab 85 different needles into each one <3" w him didntcha

oh no. oh no. that isn't seonghwa either isnt it. theres no way there'd be such a sudden jump to him being saved already. oh no. oh nonononono. oh noonoonononononooooononon. ohno

yeah look if wooyo been thinking abt seonghwa choking him out while he kisses him then like me the fuck too, but also, ouch. SDJKFSDKFHS

“That if anyone were able to love something as fucked up as you, maybe it would be me.” OH OUCH WHAT THE FUCK DUDE THAT SHIT HURTED 😭😭😭😭😭

its gonna be san then mc isnt it. ohhh man. oh man. oop. its san. fuckfuckfuck

OH. OH. OHHH MY GOD. BC THEY DIDNT NEED TO COME UP WITH THE MOST EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING THING SAN COULD SAY TO HIM - HE ALREADY SAID IT ALL. SO THE NEXT WORST THING IS JUST. LOSING HIM COMPLETELY. HIM BEING DEAD. OHHHH THAT WAS SO EVIL CORYNN I AM GRABBING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS AND SHAKING YOU LIKE A FUCKING FISHHHH

im still sussy of winter bc shes the only one we've seen Actually hold this kind of resentment towards him like the dream/nightmare state or whatever dont even needa twist Her behaviour LMFAOoo

there she is. man, with the very knife he took from her, how symbolic... also i never thought the words "I do too." could be SO FUCKING DEVASTATING and Y E T. AND YET!!!

yk i just realised we still dont know who the dark army are or why they want mc yet do we??? well presumably to finish what they started but like. i was gonna say or their beef w libaiya but. we know enough to guess why anyone could have beef w libaiya HSDKFJGKSJD but like man why are they willing to go to such lengths who the fuck are these people this whole time!! im so curious!! what are they fighting for!!

San wants his sword back. San also knows that he isn’t thinking about weapons anymore.

UGH I LOVE A GOOD COMPARISON LIKE THAT!!!!

hwa asking him to talk abt how they met just to pass the time n feel a bit better oh my god what is it about that thats so cute and precious ahh 🥺🥺🥺 also very clever way in getting the readers to the exposition on this without adding another entire triggering event for it hehe

“But then Woo showed up,” Seonghwa says softly. “Yeah,” San breathes, unable to help the smile that curves across his lips. “But then Woo showed up.”

ugh that pacing hit like a TRUCK 😩😩😩😩😩

THATS KIND OF PATHETIC DONT YOU THINK SHKJAJKDKJFG OH MY GODDD THOSE ARE SUCH GOOD FIRST WORDS. I LOVE AN ICONIC INTRO I LOVE THAT SM

He simply needs Woo there. Even when it’s wrong, even when he knows it’s an awful, gut-wrenching codependence at times. He needs him. 

nothing i love more in fiction than awful, gut-wrenching codependence like yaaaas kings make each other WORSE do it in the name of LOVE thats just as destructive as it is restorative WOOOO

Yes, San knew that Woo had feelings for Seonghwa. San just didn’t know that Woo knew that Woo had feelings for Seonghwa.

one of my favourite relationship dynamics honestly

"If there is any scenario San could imagine Woo confronting his feelings, it’s in a fit of rage." YEAH THATS WOOYOCORE ALRIGHT SHJKDFGHKFAKGHSKDHGKSJDFGJ LOVE THAT

oh damn hwa aint even had his gay awakening yet huh. you in for a real storm with this one brother! KDJFJKSHKJSKDFHK- [SPITS OUT DRINK] HE COULD WHAT. OH MY GOD. OH MY GODDDDDD ITS HAPPENINGGGG ITS FUCKING HAPPENINGGGGG!!!!!!! HOLY SHIIIIIT!!!!!

"Seonghwa is not upset that Woo confessed to loving him, he’s upset that he didn’t do so tenderly." THATS SO FUCKING RAW OH MY GODDDD san real observant for that one BUT ALSO MY HEART SPLIT IN HALF!!!!

"More than anything, San makes sure that the kiss is tender. " WHAT IF I PISSED MY PANTS SO HARD I DIED!!!! WHAT THEN, CORYNN!!!! WHAT FUCKING THEN!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK THERE IT FUCKING IIIIIIIIIIIS OH BOY HE DID ITTTT FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUKCFUCK

“And why do you think that is, Hwa?” "Oh." HKSFDGKLJSDJKFGJKSDFGKJ FUCKING, GOTTEM

okay that was so tender and gentle and soft and

IM FINE.

there Is something freeing about confessing to your crush, even if they dont reciprocate, i feel that. getting real relevant in this chilis HSJKDKFGJKDJK OH MY GOD MC NOOO.

oh fuck i completely forgot abt minho's elixir. i also forgot what it does. hol up do i needa go back... ok i went back. cool so we dont know what it does! but i assume its going to be what gets us and the crew outta here alive.

KEEP MINGIS NAME OUT OF YOUR WHORE MOUTH COMMANDER!!!!! also i wonder if that ravine will come into play later. just a random hunch. surely it was mentioned for a reason?

cool so the dark army are just working under orders. i mean expectedly enough but theres no patriotism involved huh just some hidden big bad paying em to do it. hmmm :/

whew i knew sanhwa would show up in the nick of time fuck yeah side by side fight scene i love this shit!! pretty fitting that seonghwa first ever takes a life in a moment as dire as this. hes being so strong rn 🥺🥺 they all are 🥺🥺🥺 can you tell im extra emotional today.

A man swings at you, and you push backwards against San to avoid the swipe. You worry it will cause San to tumble, but instead he sinks lower on knees, flattening his back. Using it for support, you fall back and into the air, giving the man in front of you a firm kick to the chest that sends him backwards, crashing into a few of the men behind him.

this part is so cool and vivid youre back at it again w the sick action scenes 😩😩

a mere MONTH??? i thought it had been a couple months on the road at least damn this shit went by quickly hsjkdkjgskg

"You open your eyes and know that you will never be her again. " ooh bitch CHILLING!!!

ok there is something so fucking cool about wooyoung being the commanders last resort. not some other dark magic shit to make Him more powerful, but to use wooyoung as a weapon because he knows wooyoung is the most powerful one here. so this basically means they were smart in capturing wooyoung first - or maybe just lucky - cause theoretically he could've taken down this entire battalion himself, just like it was the wardens army. hes an absolute fucking wildfire and thats kinda sexy of him tbh

omg is that the first theyve heard wooyoungs name thats so AAAAAAAAAAAA PULLING ALL MY HAIR OUT THIS IS SO PAIN BUT SO GOOD

“Because, Wooyoung,” you say. “He deserves it.”

BANGER! BANGER! ABSOLUTE FUCKING BANGER, ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS, PERFECT BUILD UP, WORDING, DELIVERY, STANDING OVATION, SOMEONE GIVE THIS BITCH A GODDAMN GRAMMY OR SOMETHING THE CROWD GOES WIIIIIIIIIIIILD

i knew the ravine would be relevant and wow that visual is so picturesque, even if i dont think he deserved the swiftness to his demise </3

"Fuck." WHAT A PERFECT CLOSING TO THE CHAPTER SHJDFGAJDKJGSKJFGKSKDGKJSDFGK wow. what a climax. i mean was that even a climax we still dont know who the employer is or what will happen when they reach kuroku but that was sure a climax if not The climax... sheesh im outta breath just reading that. or that might be from coughing up a lung but imma give you the credit bc fuck this cold and this chapter was fucking awesome. angst fluff action all in one you really giving the bitches Everything. its me im bitches. dunno if my reaction is shorter than usual this time ive been so out of it but i really really enjoyed that one you know i always enjoy the wooyoung centric chapters that shits like crack to me <33 knocked it out of the park once again, cant wait to see where it goes from here!

Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 11

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist | previous chapter

Part Eleven: a broken conscience, tenderness, and a final confrontation.

series rating: 16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

wc: 16.2k

extra chapter warnings: themes of self-hatred, brief mention of suicide. heed the violence warning for this one.

chapter summary:

“I don’t know what happened at the lake,” Seonghwa starts, tentative and unsure. Clearly cautious to continue forward. “But do you think you guys will be able to work things out?”

“I don’t know,” San breathes, and it’s true. “I really don’t know, Hwa.”

Seonghwa nods, taking this in. He begins to chew on the corner of his cheek, nervous. “I need to tell you something.”

a/n: me apologizing for taking eons to write is getting a bit old, so imma stop LMAO. life is just busy but what’s new. anyway, to be frank i adore this chapter. it's a wild ride. i hope you all enjoy. mwah.

“Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung hears someone call out to him, but he isn’t sure from where. Their voice appears close, yet far off all at once. As if they are speaking from beside him, and at the same time miles away.

His senses feel muddled. Eye-sight a bit faded, it’s as if he’s looking through a window in the winter season. Fogged and clammy with precipitation, almost translucent. His hearing is muffled, his footsteps creating a dull-echo through him, as if they’re coming from within his mind rather than heard through his ears.

Wooyoung ignores this, instead choosing to follow the voice, although really, he’s walking aimlessly more than he is following. He can’t tell where the voice is coming from, and the darkness that surrounds him is disorientating. When he looks down, he can see his own eyes staring back at him, the ground polished and reflective. However, when he looks forward it all meshes into a thick blackness, like a mirror facing the night sky. 

“Wooyoung!”

He hears the voice again, and it sounds like it’s coming from behind him, but when he turns there is nobody there. Just more of the same darkness.

Wooyoung scowls. Something is wrong, although he can’t place what. An inkling of worry rests on his shoulders nagging at him to listen, but everytime he tries to grasp it, it slips between his fingers. Sliding like water over rock.

His frown deepens. Yes, something is very wrong. He should know what it is, and yet he doesn’t.

Wooyoung turns back around, walking back in the same direction from which he came, this time with more fervour, his cluelessness leaving him agitated. 

However, as he turns it is not only blackness ahead of him, but a boy.

He faces away from Wooyoung so that the elemental cannot see his face, although based on his narrow stature and height, he’s no older than his early teens. Wooyoung, struck by a sense of familiarity, heads towards him. 

Upon reaching him, Wooyoung reaches out to grab the boy's shoulder, turning him around to face him. However, just as the boy’s face is almost visible, he vanishes. Wooyoung blinks. Darkness sits before him, empty, his hand outstretched into the blackness.

“Wooyoung.”

He whirls around, finding himself face to face with the boy.

Wooyoung gasps.

The boy’s light eyes meet his, a rich grey colour that has always reminded him of a coming storm. His black hair has grown longer, shaggy as it curls around the boy’s ears. Although Wooyoung has grown quite a bit since he last saw him, the boy is still taller, even if only by an inch or so.

“Yeonjun,” he whispers, and then his arms are wrapped around him, pulling the boy close. Wooyoung presses one of his hands along Yeonjun's back, feeling his skin and the muscles along his shoulders, trying to make sure that he’s real as he remembers each of his skin’s crevices. Ensuring that he is not a trick of the mind, an illusion within the warped darkness. 

But he is real. Completely solid, his skin as warm and soft as so many years ago. Wooyoung places a hand onto the back of his head, cradling it as he pulls Yeonjun close. 

Yeonjun does not move to hug him back. He stands still, stiff. Arms planted at his sides.

“You’re dead,” Wooyoung whispers, because he doesn’t understand how this is possible. He tucks his chin over the boy’s shoulder, overwhelmed by the familiarity of it, even after all these years. There’s a rightness to it, like his shoulder was meant for Wooyoung’s chin to rest there.

Yeonjun doesn’t reply right away, and Wooyoung finally pulls away from him. Yeonjun’s deep grey eyes meet his, although there is a certain absence to them. Not of life, but compassion. His lips are pulled into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight. 

It’s not until now Wooyoung realizes that Yeonjun is not happy to see him. 

“You don’t have to remind me that I’m dead, Wooyoung,” Yeonjun says, and his voice is not how Wooyoung remembers it. Not in its actual sound, but in its tone. Wooyoung remembers Yeonjun’s voice within night’s spent up in the watchtower, huddled close together. He remembers it in whispers around the lunch table, jovial and bright amidst the darkness. 

He does not remember Yeonjun’s voice being so cold, nor so pointed. So hateful. 

“It’s not the kind of thing I would forget,” Yeonjun spits, releasing himself from Wooyoung’s grip. Wooyoung flinches, caught off guard by this ferocity of his words. 

“I didn’t mean-” Wooyoung starts, reaching out to place a comforting hand atop the boy’s shoulder. Yeonjun slaps it away. Hard. 

“Don’t touch me,” Yeonjun scowls. He takes a step forward, and Wooyoung finds himself stepping back. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me!”

“I-I’m sorry,”  Wooyoung says, and his voice is small as he takes another step back, pulling his hand away completely. 

“Don’t tell me that you’re sorry,” Yeonjun says, and then Wooyoung is flying backwards. Blown by a sharp gust of wind, he hits his back against the ground. It sends a sharp spark of pain along his spine, and he winces as he continues to roll, using his elbows to protect his face as he tumbles backwards. 

When he finally comes to a stop, he looks up, watching as Yeonjun storms towards him. “You think that you being sorry is going to change anything? That it’s going to fix what you did?”

“No,” Wooyoung whispers, because it’s true. He has hated himself for what he did to Yeonjun. Dragging him into his plan to escape, the plan that ultimately got the boy killed. However, even with all of his guilt, regret, and self-hatred, he never once thought that he’d have to face Yeonjun again. That he would have to own up to his failure. His unforgivable mistake.

He deserves this.

“You’re right, I am dead,” Yeonjun says, no longer shouting, but the ice within his voice is just as powerful. “I’m dead and it’s because of you.”

A ball of fire ignites in Yeonjun’s hand that the younger boy pulls it back, before letting it fly towards Wooyoung. The fire hurtles towards him, its orange and yellow flames twisting and turning, growing in size with each passing second.

Wooyoung would never hurt Yeonjun. Not intentionally, not with his own hand or flame. So instead of firing back with his own, Wooyoung redirects the flame away from him, sending it sideways.

Except that he doesn’t, because the redirection doesn’t work. 

Yeonjun’s aim lands true as the flames engulf him.

Wooyoung thinks that he is screaming, but he can’t tell, his ears having gone deaf amongst the pain that radiates throughout his entire body. The burning sensation starts at his skin, thousands of little needles stabbing him everywhere from his face down to his feet. He can’t think beyond the burning, the heat intolerable as it consumes him. He begins to roll around on the ground, wailing in agony as he desperately tries to put the fire out. 

When the flames subside, Wooyoung can’t rise to his feet. He drags his hand along the ground, weak and shaking as he pulls it to his side, and he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored floor beneath him.

His skin bubbles and blisters, it’s once deep bronze having shifted to an angry and repulsive bright red. His hand twitches, shaking as he attempts to move it. He lets out a low whine of pain, tears glistening in his eyes.

He hears Yeonjun’s footsteps approach him. When the boy crouches down in front of Wooyoung, his eyes are full of malice. He does not smile, even as Wooyoung looks up at him through bleary eyes, weak and pathetic.

Yeonjun’s hand fills with fire, and instead of throwing it at him, he simply places it onto Wooyoung’s arm. Wooyoung watches in horror as his skin catches light, the needles returning as sharp pain cascades over his flesh. He lets out a broken cry, trying to move his other hand to put it out, but he’s too weak. His other hand merely shakes, awkwardly patting at the fire in a way that does nothing to put it out, but rather makes his other hand hurt even more.

“Use your gift, Wooyoung,” Yeonjun chides, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Or maybe you really are as useless as he claims.”

“He” meaning Warden. The only man Wooyoung has ever been genuinely afraid of. The only man who convinced Wooyoung that he was nothing. Has always been nothing. 

Is nothing, even now.

Yeonjun leans in closer, and when he speaks, his voice is a low whisper. “You deserve all that’s coming to you, Wooyoung. Remember that.”

The fire spreads up his arm and onto his shoulder, and Wooyoung closes his eyes, losing himself in the pain. It continues through him, the fire eating away at his flesh and burning its way into his mind. He can smell the smoke around him, and it's reminiscent of his skin. Rotten and vile, he breathes it again, mouth agape as he wails in agony. 

The fire consumes him until there is nothing left. His body gone, mind lost to the flames.

“Woo, get off of the floor,” a voice says from above him. 

Wooyoung blinks. His cheek is cool against the ground beneath him, as is the rest of his body that is sprawled out above it. He glances forward at his hand that sits out in front of him.

It looks normal, the burns completely vanished.

He narrows his eyes, glancing at his reflection in the mirror below him. All he sees is himself staring back, disbelieving. Wooyoung’s skin has returned to its normal, deep bronze rather than bright red, the blisters having disappeared entirely. His reflection blinks back at him. It’s as if nothing happened.

“Did you hit your head or something?” The voice says again, and Wooyoung glances up. Seonghwa stands above him,  looking down with a puzzled look on his face. 

Wooyoung frowns, a burst of both excitement and shame igniting within him, although he doesn’t know where it comes from. Did something happen between him and Seonghwa lately? He can’t seem to remember. 

“No, sorry,” Wooyoung replies, and Seonghwa extends a hand out. Wooyoung takes it, letting the blonde lift him back up to his feet. 

Wooyoung glances down at himself, at his once burnt clothing now perfectly in-tact. His frown deepens. “Do you know-” He begins, but whatever he was going to say dies on his lips, as when he glances up Seonghwa’s eyes are already staring into his own. 

Seonghwa is close, a little too close. His hand continues to hold Wooyoung’s, resting against Seonghwa’s own chest. His face is closer than Wooyoung thinks it’s ever been, mere inches apart, and Wooyoung can feel the heat that rises to his cheeks.

“I… I, um,” Wooyoung says stupidly.

“Hm?” Seonghwa hums, and a small smile grazes his lips. It’s coy, almost knowing, and if Wooyoung could feel the heat in his cheeks before then they’re practically burning now. “Were you saying something?”

Wooyoung swallows hard, and when he speaks again his voice is a whisper. “No.”

Seonghwa’s smile grows a little wider. “Good.”

Then Seonghwa kisses him.

It’s familiar in a way he can’t understand, almost as if he’s been here before, but also nowhere close. Seonghwa’s lips are soft, tender as they meet Wooyoung’s own. The empath’s hand is gentle as it reaches up to rest on the back of Wooyoung’s neck, whose mind melts. 

Seonghwa clearly feels the elemental stiffen in surprise, smiling against Wooyoung’s lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle that is oh-so-familiar, and Wooyoung lets the sound flow through his ears and fill the rest of him. His mind, his heart, his body. He lets himself become wrapped in the comfortability that is one of his closest friends, his mind’s long-harboured desire.

Seonghwa’s hand drifts from the back of the elemental’s neck to the front, fingers dancing along his Adam’s apple, which bobs as Wooyoung swallows in anticipation.

Then Seonghwa begins to squeeze.

His grip is not gentle, nor is it suggestive. Instead it is tight, increasingly uncomfortable, and Wooyoung tries to pull his lips away. “Hwa,” he murmurs, although it’s difficult to get out through the way Seonghwa’s hand squeezes around his airway. “Hwa, you’re hurting me.”

“Am I?” Seonghwa speaks against his lips, his tone shifting from fond to something that resembles seductive, but not quite. Mischievous, or even dangerous. “Awe.”

Seonghwa's grip shifts from uncomfortable to painful as he deepens the kiss, nails digging into Wooyoung’s skin as he presses harder on his airway. Wooyoung tried to pull away, to protest, but Seonghwa forcefully keeps his lips on Wooyoung’s own. 

Wooyoung places his hands on Seonghwa’s wrist, trying to pull his grip away. However, it’s as if Seonghwa has gained impenetrable strength, as his arm will not budge no matter how hard Wooyoung tries. Seonghwa finally pulls his lips away, looking down at Wooyoung, eyes full of a mocking pity.

“What’s wrong, Woo? Isn’t this what you’ve been imagining?” Seonghwa asks, and while Wooyoung opens his mouth to deny him, his squeezed airway prevents him from speaking. Seonghwa grins, squeezing tighter as he moves his face closer, his breath hot on Wooyoung’s skin. “Isn’t this what you’ve been dreaming about in that sick head of yours?”

Wooyoung tries to cry out but all that comes out is a choked, pathetic sound that makes Seonghwa snicker. Blackness creeping into the corners of his vision, Wooyoung’s head begins to become foggy, everything fuzzy but the pain and image of Seonghwa before him.

He can feel his eyelids drooping, his effort to pull Seonghwa’s hand away diminishing with each passing second. Seonghwa notices it too, as he coos in disapproval. 

“You really thought I could love you, didn’t you?” Seonghwa says softly, grip tightening to keep Wooyoung awake. Tears begin to fill the elemental’s eyes as his chest aches, desperate for air. For release, one way or another. “That if anyone were able to love something as fucked up as you, maybe it would be me.”

Seonghwa leans in, and Wooyoung feels his eyes roll into the back of his head, nothingness beginning to replace the space his thoughts once resided.

“I could never love you, Woo. Nobody could. It’s time that you stop pretending otherwise.”

Wooyoung awakens to his cheek pressed against the cold mirrored floor. Again. 

Taking a deep, gasping breath, he feels his lungs fill with air. Hand drifting to his neck, he searches for the pain of bruising, only to find that there is nothing there. His neck feels fine, his breathing having returned to normal, and he curses beneath his breath.

“What the fuck is happening to me?” He thinks, staring up at the never-ending darkness above him. He searches his mind for the memory of where he is, how he got to this strange place, but can’t seem to find anything. The answer sits on the tip of his tongue, but he cannot speak it, the words just out of his reach.

Anxiety pulses within his head, hands shaky as he pulls them down to his side. He feels as if he’s going crazy. Maybe he is. Maybe he already has. 

Wooyoung rolls over, prepared to rise to his feet, only to be stopped by the sight of a man lying next to him. He faces away from Wooyoung, but from the outline of the muscles of his back that poke through his shirt and the strap of the eye-patch that wraps around the back of his head, Wooyoung knows that it’s San.

Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief, comforted by the fact that San is with him. San always knows what’s going on, what to do when nothing seems to make sense. San will be able to put together what Wooyoung cannot.

He extends out a hand, letting it fall onto San’s shoulder, giving the swordsman a gentle shake. San’s skin is cool to his touch, smooth, and Wooyoung smiles at the comfortable familiarity of it.

“San,” he says, giving the swordsman a gentle shake. When San does not reply, Wooyoung shakes him a little harder. “San.”

When San still does not move, Wooyoung assumes that he is sleeping. It’s not surprising, as even for a man so keen and alert at all waking hours, he sleeps like the dead. Sitting up on his elbow, Wooyoung tugs on San’s shoulder, rolling him over.

Except that when Wooyoung’s gaze meets man’s face, San’s eye is not closed in peaceful slumber. It is wide-open, glazed, and worst of all, vacant.

Wooyoung knows that he is dead.

Time appears to stop for a moment, although it feels more like an eternity. Wooyoung stares down into San’s blank stare, the coolness of his skin suddenly making far too much sense. 

San is dead. 

San is dead.

“No,” Wooyoung murmurs, hand drifting from San’s shoulder to his chest, feeling for a heart-beat and finding nothing. Wooyoung pulls himself up onto his knees, leaning down to press his ear to San’s parted lips, listening for a breath. There is none to be found.

“No,” Wooyoung whispers, turning his head to press a kiss to the swordsman’s lips, one that goes unreciprocated. “No, no, no,” he protests, hands shaking as he grabs San’s jaw, pulling his mouth to his own.

San’s lips are cold, unmoving, and when Wooyoung pulls away from him his eyes are stained with tears. His throat swells, chest aching, and he lets out an open sob. It echoes throughout the empty darkness around them, over and over again, like a lament of agony.

“This is your fault.”

Wooyoung’s gaze shoots up. In front of him sits a young girl, no older than thirteen, her long black hair tangled and pale face stained with tears. 

“Winter,” Wooyoung whispers.

“You couldn’t just let him leave,” she says, voice shaking as her hands clutch onto San’s tunic. They tremble around the light fabric, in desperation, in anger, in devastation. “He knew what you would do to him, but you couldn’t let him go, could you?”

“I…” Wooyoung starts, tongue feeling too big for his mouth, mind fuzzy. “I did this?”

He looks down at his hands. They’re coated in blood, as is San’s shirt. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before.

“He loved you,” Winter says, eyes finally looking up to meet Wooyoung’s. The redness of her crying face and the gloss of her tears bring out the blue in them. “We both did. And this is what we get for it?”

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung says, his voice barely above a whisper. Winter says nothing, her sobs merely grow louder, and Wooyoung looks down at San. The man he ruined. The man he destroyed. “I’m so sorry.”

When San makes no reply, as he no longer can, Wooyoung’s tears transform into loud, broken sobs. His own hand grabs onto San’s bloodied tunic, needing to hold a part of him but not daring to let himself touch the man’s skin. Tarnish him any more than he already has.

“I hate you,” Winter whispers, and it takes Wooyoung a minute to realize that although he’s heard her say those words before, it isn’t Winter speaking.

Wooyoung looks up to meet your gaze.

Your jaw is tightly clenched, your lip quivering. Although, what affects him the most is your eyes and the deep emotion they hold. A fiery blaze of distaste, of fury, wrath, and pure and unadulterated hatred.

“I hate you,” you say again, face contorting inward on itself as you look at him. “For everything you’ve done to me. For everything you’ve done to them. For everything you are.”

“I know,” he answers, and when he speaks his voice is barely above a whisper, as he lets out an admission. “I do too.”

He doesn’t notice the knife in your hand until it is buried in his chest.

Wooyoung stares down at the knife protruding out from him, your hand wrapped around its delicately engraved handle. It’s the one they gave to you, the one he took from you that first night.

He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t attempt to pull it out or shove you away. He deserves it.

Blood pools around the wound in his chest, leaking down. He opens his mouth to speak, but instead coughs, blood splattering from his mouth onto your face. You don’t seem to care.

You lean forward over San’s body, pressing your lips against his ear. However, when you speak, your voice is not your own. It’s deeper, more masculine. Familiar, although from where Wooyoung cannot place.

“Tell me where she is, Wooyoung. Tell me where she is and I’ll make it stop.”

“The refuge,” the answer comes immediately to his mind, dancing on his tongue, although he doesn’t know where it comes from or what it means. “She’s with the refugees. Sharing a tent with a young red-haired girl. It’s just three turns from the entrance.”

But he doesn’t say these words, even as the pain within his chest deepens, even as he wants everything to disappear. Even as he craves for the darkness to consume him, to rid him of this terrible mess. The horrors of everything he’s done. 

He doesn’t say these words because something in his mind screams that he can’t, something deep within him that pounds at the walls of his subconscious, that something is deeply, horrifically wrong. 

“Fine,” you say in that same voice that is not your own, leaning back from his ear to face him, the anger in your eyes having faded to a cold disinterest. “Have it your way.”

You twist the knife deeper and Wooyoung dies, this time in even more agony than the last.

This sword is nicer than San’s old one.

His old sword had been gifted to him from Gloria's blacksmith when he was thirteen. A kind old-man who knew the trouble that had entangled San, and wished to give the young boy a chance in a life where his fortune had run dry.

The sword was nothing special, hilt not quite heavy enough and wrapped in a cheap leather that had become worn over the years. It was not as flexible as to be expected of a good sword, and even with the trips he’d taken to sharpen the blade, the metal was becoming dull and had lost much of its durability. San was also thirteen upon receiving it, so of course, the blade was not long. Even for a short-sword, it had become too small with San’s growing height.

This sword doesn’t have those problems, with its thick hilt coated in fine leather. It clearly holds a stronger durability than the last, almost nimble with its flexibility. It’s even a little longer, allowing him to reach an opponent from a few inches further back, granting him better protection. 

The new sword is objectively better than his last in just about every way possible.

San hates it.

He hates the way the new sword glides through the air effortlessly, how the sharpness of the blade cuts deep against the wooden pole he strikes with a terrifying ease. He hates how it fits his hand so well, how the length suits him perfectly. It was made for him, fashioned for his grip..

There is no life to this sword. Not yet. It wasn’t given to him in a time of desperate need like his last, something to hold onto when everything else was falling apart. He has this sword because he simply needed a new one.

San misses his old sword. It’s heavy hilt and the roughness of the cheap leather against his palm. He misses how it wasn’t long enough, how he’d have to dance closer to danger within every battle. He misses the wrongness of it, and how right that wrongness felt. He misses the imperfection. The faults. The years spent getting used to those faults, of learning to navigate them. 

San wants his sword back.

San also knows that he isn’t thinking about weapons anymore.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, San takes a breath before attacking the pole before him once more. In a flurry of motion, he hacks at the pole’s cheap wood, landing blow after blow. There is no grace, no tactical finesse, just violence. The excuse of training having faded a long time ago, San simply seeks to cause damage.

Then he growls, a low noise of annoyance in the back of his throat, before throwing the sword to the ground. It clatters against a couple rocks, before settling itself in the grass, almost invisible within the night's shadow. Good, he doesn’t want to look at it anymore.

San leans against the pole, feeling the many indents he’s created against the bare skin of his back. His tunic sits discarded on the ground next to him, having been soaked through with sweat. He’s been at this for hours.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks from over his shoulder. San turns to see Seonghwa standing by their tent, a sad expression on his face. He asks more out of courtesy than anything else. San knows that the answer is obvious.

“No,” San says softly, and the honesty surprises him, but after a moment it doesn’t. San is tired of hiding how he feels about things. Of pretending things are fine when they so obviously aren’t. If he still had the energy for it after the last couple weeks — although more like years, really — then it left alongside Woo.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seonghwa asks.

“Not really,” San answers honestly. He’s been thinking about it for hours, the last thing he wants is to continue doing so. 

“Alright, we don’t have to, ” Seonghwa says gently. San peers back over at him. Seonghwa’s arms sit folded over his chest, eyes big and full of concern. His hair is tousled, patches of blonde sticking out in opposite directions, as if he were trying to sleep but couldn’t. He likely has been. San wonders how late it is, how long he’s been out here for. 

“Do you want to just come inside then?” Seonghwa offers instead, tilting his head towards the tent entrance. San considers this for a moment before deciding he would rather be anywhere other than beside this pole, and nods in affirmation.

Following Seonghwa inside the tent, San takes note of Seonghwa’s crumpled sheets, evidence of San’s assumption that the man has spent the last few hours tossing and turning rather than in rest. 

“Do you want some tea?” Seonghwa asks. 

“I’m alright.”

“Good. Whiskey then?”

San can’t help the chuckle he lets out at that. “Please.”

Seonghwa reaches into the basket Yeji had gifted them, filled to the brim with different delectables. San knew that it was nice of her to do, a kind gesture, but the cynical part of him saw the silliness of it. Here, your friend just got kidnapped for ransom, but maybe these scones will make you feel better about it.

However, maybe she also saw the futility of it, having added a rather hefty bottle of whiskey to the mix of sweets.

Seonghwa pours the whiskey into two ceramic cups before handing one over to San, who sits down on his own bed of blankets across from Seonghwa’s own. Woo’s remains between them, untouched. 

Seonghwa extends his cup forward to meet San’s own in a form of cheers, although to what exactly San doesn’t think Seonghwa knows the answer either. They both take a sip, and the liquid burns slightly as it trickles down San’s throat. He makes sure to drink a bit more than he normally would.

Swallowing his own whiskey before San does, Seonghwa looks down at Woo’s bed between them, gaze contemplative.

“Have you ever told me how you and Woo met?” Seonghwa asks.

San quirks a brow at this, a bit amused but at the same time confused. “Many times, Hwa.”

Seonghwa nods at this, cheeks dusted with a faint shade of pink, as if he’s well aware of this fact and embarrassed to have been caught.

However, when the empath says nothing, San sighs. He knows that Seonghwa simply wants to talk about Woo, even if not about the situation at hand. The dire, horrible situation that plagues both of their minds with worry. The situation that San cannot bare to talk about, so lest he tear up this tent with his sword before heading up the mountain to kill the entire Dark Army himself

But how they met… he supposes he can talk about that. If it will bring Seonghwa some peace of mind, of course.

“We were both fourteen,” San begins, watching as an appreciative smile spreads over Seonghwa’s lips. “I’d been working a job for Jay, spying on an investor he suspected of embezzling The Cradle’s Funds. But I was still new to working for him, and hadn’t quite found my knack for stealth yet.”

Seonghwa closes his eyes as San speaks, as if what he’s saying is some sort of lullaby, a piece of comfort.

“He caught me hiding in the shrub garden of his courtyard and dragged me out by my hair onto the city street. He started screaming at me, before pulling out a knife from his back pocket," San says, and he can still remember that moment as clear as day. The terror that consumed him, that kept him frozen in place as the man advanced towards him.

San does not tell Seonghwa this, but what he remembers most is how in that moment he thought about how nobody would care if the man killed him. His father had left him, his mother and sister were both dead, and his expendability in Jay’s eyes was made blatantly clear by the fact that he sent San to deal with this man in the first place.

If the man killed San right then and there, nobody would have batted an eye. He would just become another one of the many nameless, faceless victims of Gloria’s streets.

“The man came towards me, and I remember closing my eye as he lifted the blade in the air. I didn’t want to see it enter me, I knew I couldn’t handle that.”

“But then Woo showed up,” Seonghwa says softly.

“Yeah,” San breathes, unable to help the smile that curves across his lips. “But then Woo showed up.”

San takes a deep breath, before letting his own eye close, reliving it. “Across the darkness I saw a bright flash of light, and could feel a sudden rush of heat across my face. I opened my eye in a panic. I thought that maybe I’d died, that he stabbed and killed me instantaneously, that the light had meant I’d ascended or that the heat was the fires of Hell.”

“But when I opened my eyes I saw the man standing before me, except that now his arm that was holding the knife was completely engulfed in flame. The look on his face when he saw it was priceless, completely in shock as he ran back into his house screaming for help, the poor boy in front of him that he was about to murder completely forgotten.”

“Then Woo walked up to me, standing up with his arms crossed. The light of the sun shone out behind him, and I remember at the time thinking he must have been the god of fire himself. Or maybe an angel that came to save me. It’s ridiculous knowing him now, but at the time I really believed it.”

“What was the first thing Woo said to you again?” Seonghwa asks, and San chuckles.

“He asked me ‘Were you really just going to sit there and let him kill you?’ I shakily replied yes, and then he said ‘That’s kind of pathetic, don’t you think?’”

Seonghwa laughs at this, shaking his head to himself. San gets it. Even now, so many years later, it’s a very Woo sort of thing to say.

“I thought about it, and then agreed that yeah, it was pretty pathetic. He laughed, and then somehow I found myself laughing too. He helped me up, and then that was it.”

“That was it?” Seonghwa asks, inquiring what he means by that.

“That was it. He never left my side after that. I joined him in his camp outside of the town. He helped me train with my sword even if his own knowledge on the subject was next to none. He never wanted to see me so helpless again. He joined me on countless missions that Jay sent me on, even the nasty ones, the ones that still keep me up some nights.”

San takes in a deep breath. “He was just… there. When I had no-one, he was there. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

San looks down at Woo’s sleeping mat between them. Pristine. Untouched. A testament to his absence.

Things between him and Woo have been horrible lately. It’s been years of build up, of the little issues growing larger, of San’s discontentment boiling beneath the surface. He knows that things with Woo will never change. He knows the elemental will never give San all of himself. 

But it’s in these little moments, when he thinks about their past and everything that has happened between them, that he wants nothing more than to have Woo with him. In any form. In a blistering argument, in the cold quiet following, in his bed even when he knows the elemental will be gone come morning.

He simply needs Woo there. Even when it’s wrong, even when he knows it’s an awful, gut-wrenching codependence at times. He needs him. 

And with Woo gone, taken from him, it’s now that he knows this more than ever.

But then he remembers the jealous spats over the last few weeks. The many morning’s waking up alone. The way that Woo jumped after him over that cliff…

“I don’t know what happened at the lake,” Seonghwa starts, tentative and unsure. Clearly cautious to continue forward. “But do you think you guys will be able to work things out?”

“I don’t know,” San breathes, and it’s true. “I really don’t know, Hwa.”

Seonghwa nods, taking this in. He begins to chew on the corner of his cheek, nervous. “I need to tell you something.”

“Go ahead,” San says, taking a sip of his drink as Seonghwa takes a deep breath.

“Woo kissed me.”

San chokes on his whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says as San sputters and uses a fist to pound at his chest, forcing himself to cough. “I should have waited until you swallowed first, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” San says through coughs, and while he tries to keep the blatant shock out of his tone, he fails miserably. “Woo kissed you?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa answers, voice breathy and small.

“When?” San asks, bewildered.

“Before they captured him.”

“Before they captured him,” San repeats, more to himself than Seonghwa. He runs the idea of it through his head, although it doesn’t make much more sense to him. 

Woo kissed Seonghwa. He actually did it. Recently. Just the night before.

“Are you mad?” Seonghwa asks.

“No,” San says absently, before really registering the question. He looks over at Seonghwa, who looks at him, knees drawn up to his chest. His fingers tap against the cup in his hands as he chews on the corner of his cheek, both nervous habits of his.

San realizes that Seonghwa is genuinely scared that he’ll be upset with him, and even amidst the shock, San’s heart softens.

“No. I’m not mad, Hwa,” he says gently, running a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face as he takes another small sip of his drink. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

San knew Woo had feelings for Seonghwa, he has for years. He could tell by the way Woo looked at the empath in absent moments, when he thought nobody was looking. That undeniable fondness in his gaze that told San everything he needed to know. He noticed as Woo stiffened at Seonghwa’s touch, the way his breath would catch in his throat, just as San’s own did. 

Yes, San knew that Woo had feelings for Seonghwa. San just didn’t know that Woo knew that Woo had feelings for Seonghwa.

“I know, it was a lot for me to take in too,” Seonghwa says, before letting out a small laugh that doesn’t hold much humour. “Still is.”

“How did it happen?” San asks.

“We were arguing…about her, amongst other things,” Seonghwa says with a shrug. “And it quickly escalated to fighting. I asked— well, I yelled at him asking why he cared so much about what I do, and then he grabbed me and kissed me.”

It makes sense. If there is any scenario San could imagine Woo confronting his feelings, it’s in a fit of rage. 

“After he kissed you, then what did he do?” San asks.

Seonghwa sighs, and when he speaks his tone is bashful, cheeks flushed as if he’s embarrassed to say it aloud. “He ran away.”

“For fuck’s sake, Woo,” San thinks, giving him a mental slap that he hopes the elemental can feel from miles away. 

But San isn’t going to complain about Woo right now, because that’s not why Seonghwa brought this up, it’s not what the empath really needs. He just needs someone to listen.

“Do you know how you feel about it?” San asks, tone gentle.

“No,” Seonghwa says quietly. San catches a glimpse of annoyance in his eyes, as Seonghwa’s expression shifts from bashful to frustrated, lips drawing themselves into a tight line.

“No, I don’t. How am I supposed to know how I felt about it? If I liked it?” Seonghwa says, standing up from his sleeping mat and beginning to pace around the tent. However, given its small size he doesn’t have much room to actually pace, instead walking a mere few steps forward and back.

“There was no tenderness to it. It was nothing like a real kiss should be. He just grabbed my face and shoved it into his and then said ‘Sorry Seonghwa, you’re going to have to figure that one out on your own, I'm off to get kidnapped!’” Seonghwa says the last part in a high pitched sing-song sort of way, one that doesn’t really sound like Woo, but at the same time a lot like him in spirit.

Seonghwa sighs, taking a sip of his drink before pinching the bridge of his nose, as if he has a headache. When he speaks again, his voice becomes quiet. “That's not fair. I know it’s not fair. But neither is what he did.”

San looks up at the empath, contemplative. “Any ideas as to what it means to you yet?” 

“No,” Seonghwa answers immediately, before appearing to think better of it. “That's a lie. So many. Too many. I don't know, it’s just…”

He trails off, giving San a nervous glance that tells the swordsman that Seonghwa is worried of making him uncomfortable. San gives him a gentle smile, a signal to keep going despite it.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “It’s always been you and him. Always, from the moment I met you both. There was never another option, so I never considered another option. It would have been unfair. To you, to him, to myself… So I don't know. I honestly don’t know if I think of him that way. I don’t know if I think of guys that way. But now he’s gone and that’s like, the least of our problems to be worried about right now, but I just…”

“I know. I get it,” San says, because he does. He’s been there. San hadn’t loved a man until he met Woo, and falling for the elemental certainly wasn’t easy. Figuring out Woo had always been like deciphering a puzzle, or even navigating a ship out on a foggy day at sea. Disorientating, frustrating, and requiring a strong will and patient temper. 

Seonghwa sighs. “I don't know what to do.”

San see’s Seonghwa standing there, dejected and confused and what he’d dare to call a little heartsick, and the words come out of his mouth before he even registers that he’s thought of them.

“You could kiss me.”

Seonghwa’s gaze shoots back at him, and when he speaks his tone is hesitant, maybe even a little pointed as his lips hover above the rim of his glass. “That's not funny.”

San looks up at him, expecting to feel caught, or to begin back-tracking. Play it off as a joke and cover up his feelings as he’s so often done in the past, let them exist to him and nobody else.

Instead he says:  “I wasn't joking.”

And he isn’t.

He isn’t because San realizes that Seonghwa is not repulsed by the idea of Woo kissing him, or of even Woo loving him. He’s upset that Woo didn’t do it more cautiously, that he didn’t let Seonghwa give any input on his own thoughts or feelings. He’s upset that Woo did all of this in a moment of anger and aggression, without asking, and without apparent thought or care.

Seonghwa is not upset that Woo confessed to loving him, he’s upset that he didn’t do so tenderly.

“San,” Seonghwa says, and his tone is difficult to read. He says it like a warning, telling San to think about what he’s saying, what he’s really offering here. But San is thinking about, a small part of him always has been.

“I’m serious, Hwa. Think about it,” San starts, and he tries to keep his demeanour nonchalant, even as his heart begins to rapidly pick up pace in his chest. “You said you aren’t sure if you’re into guys. Well, I’m a guy. I’m not horrible to look at. You’re comfortable around me. It might help you sort some things out.”

“But…” Seonghwa trails off, and his complexion has gone a bit pale, clearly taken aback by the proposition. “But it’s you. It’s us.”

“Look, if you don’t feel anything or don’t like it I’m not going to take it personally,” San says, and maybe that’s not completely true, but what he says next is. “I’m not going to let it ruin our friendship. I promise.”

Seonghwa stares at him for a moment, large brown eyes scanning the swordsman’s face, as if searching for something. Eventually he speaks, and his voice is barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

“Really?” San asks despite himself, unable to contain his surprise.

“Yeah, whatever, okay,” Seonghwa says, his voice breathy, small, and all-around nervous. He walks over to sit down in front of San, this time on Woo’s unused sleeping mat rather than his own. Seonghwa does so with such a quickness that San is pretty sure the empath is trying to commit to this before he can talk himself out of it. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Seonghwa asks, gaze meeting San’s own. When he speaks his tone is embarrassed, maybe even a little self-conscious. “I mean, it’s me.”

Seonghwa says “me” as if that’s something that would deter him. As if there’s no possible way that San would want to kiss him, of all people. As if that were something San should be repulsed by.

San decides that with this kiss, he’ll prove to Seonghwa just how wrong he is about that.

Reaching forward to take hold of the empath’s jaw, San’s grip is gentle as his fingers dust along Seonghwa’s cheek. Seonghwa’s skin is warm, a beautiful kind of soft, and San takes a moment to run his thumb along Seonghwa’s cheekbone, his own heart fluttering at the way the empath’s skin floods with a light shade of pink.

Seonghwa’s eyes flutter shut, lips parted open slightly, waiting for San to accept them. San waits for a moment, taking in the sight before him, registering that this is actually happening. That Seonghwa - the man he’s only let himself love in seclusion, in weakness, in devastating secret - waits for San’s lips to meet his own.

Closing his good eye, San takes Seonghwa’s face in his hand, fingers grazing the conjunction between his neck and jaw. The empath’s skin is warm and San wonders if he’s blushing.

Seonghwa’s lips are soft. Softer than San imagined them to be, admittedly watching the empath’s mouth at times rather than his eyes. Embarrassing. Foolish. Pitiful. 

But perhaps not anymore. Not right now. Right now is anything but such cruel negativity.

San makes sure that the kiss is good. That it holds a sense of passion, by no means chaste or hesitant, but also is not aggressive or to the point of formidability. He grips Seonghwa’s jaw a little tighter, pulling him in deeper.

More than anything, San makes sure that the kiss is tender. 

Seonghwa sucks in a tight breath, and for a moment San fears that he’s uncomfortable, repulsed by it. That this was a mistake. That the rejection he’s been terrified of for so long is just a moment away. Maybe Seonghwa won’t even be able to look at him after, he’ll be too disgusted. 

But then Seonghwa’s hand finds itself on San’s arm. It rests there, Seonghwa’s fingers gently gripping San’s tunic. In that moment, the swordsman can almost feel as the fear and anxiety leaves his mind, draining from his body like a fruit squeezed of its juice. 

Not rejection. Maybe not acceptance, maybe not a confession or admission on Seonghwa’s behalf. But not rejection.

And with no rejection to be found, San knows what he must do.

He pulls away from Seonghwa’s lips, albeit not far, as he rests his forehead against the empath’s own. He can’t look Seonghwa in the eye for this, he knows it will make him too much of a coward to get the words out.

“I need to tell you something now,” San says.

Seonghwa’s voice is shaky as he speaks, quiet as his breath grazes San’s lips. “Okay.”

San holds his breath, as if he is about to dive underwater.

“I love you.”

There is a pause, and while San knows that realistically it is no more than a few seconds, it feels far more like an eternity as they pass by. He imagines all of the things Seonghwa could say. All the many variations of rejection or denial he could utter, ranging from a simple “no” to an entire memoir on why Seonghwa would never feel the same.

Seonghwa says none of these things. Instead he asks: “As in how?”

It takes San a moment to register what Seonghwa is asking. “As in I’m in love with you,” San clarifies.

“But…” Seonghwa starts, and in the moment’s pause he finally draws away from San’s face. When he looks at San, his face gives nothing away, a surprise given the empath’s often animated nature. Perhaps it is because he also does not know how he feels, how to respond to such a confession. Seonghwa does not smile, nor does he frown. His eyes do not light up with joy, nor do they swim with despair. 

In fact, the only emotion San can read is the wariness within Seonghwa’s gaze. A deep sense of caution. “What about Woo?” Seonghwa asks.

“I also love Woo.” San says, because it is true. Even after everything. Even after what happened at the beach the other night. Even with the line dug in the sand between them, a line that San himself has drawn, he knows that he will always love Woo. Always. 

Seonghwa frowns, eyebrows furrowing together into a puzzled look, as if the possibility of loving two people in such a way had never occurred to him before. As if the possibility of San loving two people in such a way were impossible. 

“I love him differently,” San admits, before thinking about it for a moment. “But at the same time, maybe not so differently either.”

“I don’t get it,” Seonghwa says, and for a moment San believes that he is talking about how San could love them both, but then Seonghwa clarifies: “How can you love me? For the last year you’ve kept me at such a distance. You’ve barely been able to touch me, let alone anything more than that.”

The words settle like a stone in San’s gut, and he thinks of their conversation at the fire after their run-in at The Desert Lotus. How Seonghwa had believed that he made San uncomfortable.

It was true. Touching Seonghwa did make San uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with how with each touch filled him with the desire to touch him more.

San’s voice is quiet as he speaks. “And why do you think that is, Hwa?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa answers, an immediate response, dejected as his gaze drifts away from San to look downwards. To Woo’s bed beneath them.

A flash of realization dawns on Seonghwa’s features, lighting up within the empath’s eyes. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” San says, unable to hide the amused smile that grazes his lips. “Oh.”

Seonghwa seems to consider this for a moment, before looking back up at San. “You know I love you too, right?

San’s eyebrows shoot up at this, and Seonghwa rushes to clarify. “Maybe not in the same way. Or maybe I do. I honestly don’t know. This is all new. I need some time to think about it.”

San nods. That’s fair. He hadn’t expected Seonghwa to immediately reciprocate his feelings. Although, maybe a little part of him deep down had foolishly hoped that he would.

Seonghwa seems to take note of the slight solemnity to San’s smile, and places his hand over the swordsman’s own. “But either way, I love you. And I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”                                             

“You won’t” San replies, and it is instant. It is instinct. It is the truth. “Take all of the time you need.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa says, giving San’s hand a soft squeeze.

A moment of silence passes between them, and despite its slight awkwardness, San finds it the least tense he’s felt around Seonghwa in a very long time. It’s as if a weight has been taken off of his shoulders, finally free of the deep sense of guilt in the quiet moment’s between them. When San’s mind would wander, and he’d hate himself for thinking such things about his closest friend, and then hate himself even more for being too much of a coward to tell his closest friend what he was thinking.

But now Seonghwa knows. He knows. And no matter the outcome, no matter what he feels towards San in return, San no longer has to hide or wallow in his own guilt.

It is freeing.

Seonghwa takes a sip of his drink. “That was a good kiss though,” he mumbles over the rim of his glass, and San laughs. A real laugh, bubbling up from his chest. It’s been too long since he laughed like that.

Then, as if a reminder of how not all good things can last, Yeji bursts in through the tent flap.

“She’s gone,” Yeji says, voice cracking with shock and worry. She’s wrapped in her blanket to cover her nightgown, her hair falling in tangled red curtains over her shoulders, clearly having just woken up. “She’s gone and a horse is missing.”

San’s heart drops down into his stomach.

He doesn’t need to ask who the “she” is that Yeji refers to, nor does he need to question where you went.

You’ve gone to find Woo. Alone.

You've gone to find Woo, alone, amongst men who are willing to pay a fortune to see you dead.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa breathes, voicing San’s own thoughts.

“Do you know when she left?” San asks, as it couldn't have been long ago. It had to be some time after San came inside the tent, otherwise he would have noticed you sneak out.

“Her bed is still warm. So recently,” Yeji answers, confirming San’s suspicions. 

“Alright,” San breathes, before turning to Seonghwa. “Let’s go.”

Seonghwa nods in agreement, and without another word, they’re on their feet and heading out through the tent flap. Annoyance bubbles within San’s gut. He told you not to go. He told you to wait until he came up with a plan. A plan that meant getting both you and Woo to safety, not forcing you all to pick between one or the other. He is not one of the gods and has no interest in playing one.

You seem to have made the decision yourself, and while San resents you for not telling him or Seonghwa what you were planning, he understands why you did it.

Because San was never going to come up with a better plan. Time has been ticking since the moment he found the message scrawled in the alley, and his ideas have run dry. There is no better way, it was always going to end in you heading up the mountain to Woo’s aid. You wouldn’t have had it any other way, and deep down San knows he would have had it the same.

He just wishes that they were there with you. There to help you. To protect you. To kill these men with far too much power, who took everything from you.

Who took everything from him when they kidnapped Woo.

The sun has begun to set over the horizon as you ride along the Concorsus Mountain Pass.

An entire day having come and gone, your pace relentless as you rode in a restless pursuit, your body now aches in protest. Your thighs burn from their friction against the horse’s back, the muscles in your arms throbbing from maintaining your grip on the reins. Your stomach rumbles and groans, gnawing at your insides in hunger, head-pounding in demand of water.

But there is no time to eat or drink, not when only the god’s know what the black-clad men are doing to Woo.

You’ve had an awful lot of time spent in silence to consider the many possibilities of how they could be torturing him, all too gut-wrenching and grotesque to even think about. You try to push away the images of Woo bathed in blood, his face swollen with bruises and infected wounds. You hope that they have him in a room somewhere, untouched, awaiting your inevitable arrival.

You also recognize this as wishful thinking.

Pushing the thoughts from your mind, you focus on the trail ahead of you. The Concorsus Mountain Pass is not an easy ride, the ground full of jagged rocks and rolling hills that have put your elementary equestrian skills to the test. Looming cliffs rest on each side of you, the black-colour of the rock like two blankets of darkness threatening to crush you between them.

The black-clad men did not specify where along the pass you were to meet them, but as you continue to ascend higher and higher, the increase in altitude making you feel both dizzy and nauseous, you imagine that they are stationed at the mountain’s summit.

As far away from Bebbanburg and any chance at aid you could possibly be.

You swallow hard, riding onwards. You have no help here, no protection. Having abandoned the safety net that San and Seonghwa created, you are truly alone in this. Your only protection is the sword attached to your waist, as well as Minho’s elixir residing in your pocket— if you could even consider that protection. It’s old magic, not even the god’s know what it will do. You aren’t particularly keen on ingesting it.

But if it comes down to a choice between life and death, a matter of saving Woo, you will.

With this in mind, you approach a rock wall. It’s not particularly large, five-feet tall at most, but your horse whinnies in protest as it comes to a stop before it. You try to give it a bit of encouragement, but the animal does not budge, clomping its hooves in irritation.

You sigh. This is not a horse from the kingdom stables, bred to ride and trained to jump, you have to leave it behind. Letting yourself down from its back, you grab the cliff’s edge, pulling yourself up and over the wall. Crawling up off your knees, you cast the animal a glance backwards, to which it meets with its black marble eyes.

The horse continues to huff, neighing in frustration. You frown as the animal grows louder, squealing as it lifts up onto its back legs, crying out.

“What the…” you mutter to yourself.

“It’s trying to warn you,” a voice says from behind.

You twist around, hand reaching for the sword at your waist, but you are not fast enough. The stranger grabs your wrist as you turn around, his other hand digging into your scalp. He pulls your hair back, forcing you to look up at him.

He’s young, maybe only a couple years older than yourself, with dark eyes and pale skin. His light hair is made brighter through its contrast with the black armour he wears.

“Hey, Princess,” the man says, grinning. You spit in his face, but he simply laughs, giving your hair a sharp tug backward. His laughter is quickly accompanied by others, as more black-clad men appear from behind different dark rocks along the mountain walls. You count what appears to be a half-dozen of them, all different ages and sizes, appearances united only through the black armour they wear. 

Giving your body a sharp twist, you catch the man off guard, before giving him a swift knee to the groin. He lets out a groan, his grasp on your hair relinquishing itself as he stumbles backward.

You’re prepared to run, to jump down from the cliff and back to your horse in hopes of finding more allusive passage, when you feel the coolness of metal along your throat.

“You’ve gained some spunk since we last saw you,” the man holding the knife whispers, seizing your wrist as he tugs your arm behind your back. You wonder if he was one of the men that chased you down the corridors following the besiegement, that hunted you in your father’s library. That killed Mingi in the stable.

“Good,” another adds, although which of the men is speaking you cannot tell. “It’ll make this all the more enjoyable.”

You were correct about their base being set at the mountain’s summit.

The men have been dragging you with them for what you assume has been roughly an hour, the setting sun having finally fallen victim to the night’s darkness. Stars glitter in the sky above you, and they are the only light present besides the singular torch one of the men carries, alighting the mountain pass in an ominous, orange hue.

They’ve remained silent since your capture, although the glances and cunning grins they’ve exchanged between one another have spoken loud enough. You don’t know what exactly is waiting for you at the summit, but you know it isn’t pretty.

The cave you approach at the top of the mountain seems fitting, as it's possibly the most unwelcoming entry-way you’ve ever seen. Sharp rocks align its entrance, each of them bleached white from sun exposure, creating the illusion of a monster’s gaping mouth.

You swallow hard, fear curdling within your stomach. It’s fitting, as entering a beast's mouth seems an awful lot like what you are doing. 

Upon entering the cave, the initial darkness does not last long, as you spot light further up ahead of the winding tunnel. As you draw closer, you recognize the light to be lanterns, strown up and around the cave. The bustle of people fills your ears, their chatter growing louder with each passing step. When you finally leave the tunnel and enter the cave’s main area, you blink in surprise.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting. Solemnity, perhaps. A dark cave with minimal light, nobody talking. A monster’s domain.

Instead, it reminds you an awful lot of the refuge, albeit smaller. There are plenty of tents set up, people sharing in conversation between them. Others spend their time chopping firewood, or brushing dirt and gravel away from their own tent’s entrance. To the left of the camp-site is a massive ravine, haphazardly blocked off by wooden pegs stringed together with rope. You are not close enough to the edge to tell, but you imagine the fall to be  hundreds of feet down. Deadly.

You glance around, watching the many men bustling about, as if this were merely a war-camp and not the station of murderess assailants.

Then you see him.

Woo resides on a makeshift parapet in the center of the camp, chains clamped around his wrists that are attached to large stone pillars on both sides of him. He sits on his knees, head hanging out in front of him, his hair falling in a dark mop that hides face. It appears that if it weren’t for the chains holding his arms up, he’d have already crumpled over.

Your blood runs cold.

The talking comes to a quiet as you enter, the dozens of black-clad soldiers all turning away from their conversations or menial tasks to face you. “Look who we found wandering,” the man holding you says, bringing his knife up from your throat to your cheek. He presses the blade against your jaw, forcing you to look up, displaying your face to the many men watching you.

Some of the men begin to snicker, a few even cheer as the man pushes the blade a little harder, piercing your skin. You can feel the blood trickle down your neck, although the sensation feels more like a dream than reality, as you catch sight of a man walking towards you.

Not just any man, but the one that chased you through the library. The one that cornered you in the stables.

The man responsible for Mingi’s death.

He walks slowly, almost a saunter as he appears to be in no rush. His posture holds a sense of confident ease, of power, and you’re certain that he is the commander of this army. His narrow, wrinkled face adorns a thick black beard. His eyes are dark, sharp as they scan you up and down, a satisfied smile plastered across his lips.

“Well,” the commander says, his voice not particularly deep, but intimidating nonetheless. “We were beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You say nothing, merely stare back at him, venom in your gaze.

“I’m assuming you’re here to save your friend then,” he says, continuing despite your silence. “How very noble.”

You do not give him the satisfaction of a retort.

“You’ve become rather stoic since I last saw you,” the commander says, eyes flashing with something awful. Something cruel. “Before you wouldn’t stop screaming. Begging your other friend not to sacrifice himself— the tall silver-haired boy, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up,” you whisper, tears stinging in the backs of your eyes. They are born of rage, not sadness. You do not let them fall.

“I suppose this is some sort of retribution for that, isn’t it?” The man continues, tone calm, almost light. “He gave his life for you, so now you’ll give yours for another.”

“Shut up,” you repeat, this time louder and with far more bite.

“You should have heard him scream. You should have heard the sound it made when my sword entered him again and again-”

You’ve had enough of this. Tears sting your eyes, fists trembling at your sides. You don’t have to listen to this man, give in to his taunts. He simply wants to have some enjoyment before he kills you, some sick sort of pleasure. Your father always said it was impolite to play with your food, and for once you’d have to agree with him.

“Woo!” You shout, turning your attention away from the man in front of you, from his barbed provocation. When Woo does not look at you, nor move his head from its slumped position, you try again. “Woo, can you hear me?”

“Unfortunately, Wooyoung isn’t quite with us anymore,” the commander answers with a sigh, tone sympathetic, although the smile he wears is anything but. “Not mentally, anyway.”

You frown at the use of Woo’s full name. How does he know that? Did Woo tell him?

“What are you talking about?” You ask, your voice low as fury rises hot in your throat, pulsing within your mind.

The man grins. A mischievous, dangerous, evil grin. “Would you like to come and see?”

The commander nods towards the man holding you, giving a look that says— no, orders: “Let her go.” The man’s knife falls away from your throat as he reliquishes his grip on your arm. You can still feel the spot where his fingers were, aching where bruises will surely soon appear.

Nobody moves to grab you, and it strikes you that in this moment, you could try to flee. Bolt back down the tunnel, dozens of men sure to take after you and grab you once more. You’re certain they would be far less liberal on your second capture.

You could try and fight. Relinquish your sword from its sheath and take out as many as possible. It would likely be only one or two, considering they’d all be on you and you don’t have San here to coach you through it. By the god’s you wish that San were here.

But he is not, and thus instead of fleeing or fighting you follow the man, obeying as his hand beckons you forward. “Good girl,” he says, and your gut clenches in disgust, face twisting with repulsion.

If the commander is offended by the expression, he doesn’t show it. Instead he continues walking, the two of you winding past different groups of the black-clad men, each of their gazes falling over you. You feel like a gazelle in a den of lions, their stares hungry for your blood.

When you reach Woo, you take a step forward, unsure of what exactly you plan to do. Perhaps move the thick mess of tangled hair from his face, or give the chains some slack to loosen the pull on his wrists. You just need to do something.

The commander places an arm out, stopping you. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.”

“Well, good thing you’re not me,” you cut back through gritted teeth, moving towards Woo. You crouch down, reaching for the chain on his right wrist.

“Woo, I’m here,” you say, trying to keep your voice level, even as it shakes. The commander had suggested that Woo wasn’t mentally here, and while you aren’t sure exactly what that may mean, you know you should navigate this with caution. 

When your hand touches the chain around his wrist, Woo lets out an awful, blood-curdling noise. You’d describe it as a scream, but that would make it too human. It is nothing less than animalistic.

Flames emerge from the elemental’s palms, scorching your arm. You yank your hand away, wincing as pain bubbles within your fingers. Despite yourself, you step back, clutching your burnt hand.

Woo looks at you, except that he doesn’t really. Instead his eyes almost look through you, unfocused and distant, although that’s the least of what worries you about his appearance. 

Apart from the unsettling and distant look to his eyes, the whites of them have shifted to a strange and unnatural purple colour, like blooming lilacs during the spring season. It contrasts greatly against the many thick red veins expanding out from his pupils, which have spread across his iris’ in a way that reminds you of black marbles.

His wrists are laced with wounds, the metal of his bonds having heated up due to the fire he unleashed from his palms. The burns are clearly infected as they beam a revolting yellow, puss forming within their deep gashes. Those will scar, you have no doubt.

Sweat beads along Woo’s temple, trailing down his face and onto his neck. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his entire body is drenched, all of his clothes soaked through. He trembles, tremors seizing his body as he breathes heavily, chest heaving as he appears to not be able to get enough air.

“What did you do to him?” You whisper. The man chuckles.

“We gave him an elixir of sorts,” he answers, and your stomach twists at the thought. Old magic. The weight of your own potion grows heavy in your pocket.

Woo continues to shake, arms trembling as he continues to look through you. Tears form in his eyes as he begins to murmur beneath his breath, although what exactly you cannot make out. You didn’t know what the men would do to him, what state he would be in, but you never could have imagined this. Fury twists in your gut like a cheap ale, making you feel sick with ferocity.

“Why would you do this?” You ask, and it’s the question that has been pressing down on your shoulders ever since you watched the dagger enter your father's stomach. You twist towards the commander, and despite how he stands taller than you, you do not let yourself appear weak. Chin held up high, you meet his gaze.

“Why would you destroy my kingdom? Why would you spend so much time and effort hunting me across Burovia? Why would you place such an utter fortune of a bounty on my head?” You look him up and down. “Who are you?”

The man grins. “Me? I am nobody.”

“Enough games-” You snarl, but he merely shakes his head, giving you a dismissive wave.

“You think I care about a pampered royal brat bred by a kingdom of snakes?” The commander asks, his dark eyes glimmering in the many lantern’s light. “I couldn't care less about your disaster of a court, although I must say I enjoyed burning it to the ground.”

You frown. “Then why would you-”

“Because my employer cares,” he cuts you off, tone final. He folds his arms behind his back, a clicking noise filling the air as he taps his fingers along his black armor. 

“Who is your employer?” You press further, ignoring how the noise matches the beat of your racing heart, that’s pace only increases with each passing second.

“I am not to say,” he answers with a shrug.

You grit your teeth, frustration building in your chest. “If you plan to kill me then what does it matter?”

The man hums, grin growing wider with satisfaction. “Does it scare you, the possibility of never knowing?” He takes a step forward. “Does it terrify you to never know why your kingdom burned to ash, to never know why your father was murdered?”

The man is close now, peering down at you, the crow’s feet along the edges of his ageing eyes more prominent as he stands before you. He reaches forward, running two of his fingers along your bare cheek.

“Does it frighten you that you’ll never know why you died?” He asks.

You do not flinch, even as he touches you, even as your body demands it. “You do not scare me,” you lie.

He chuckles at this, his hand still placed on your cheek, his calloused fingertips rough against your skin. “Your eyes say otherwise.”

The commander reaches to his side, pulling out a knife. Its long blade is serrated, details of stars carved into its wooden hilt. It reminds you a bit of the one Seonghwa gave you, the one Woo took on that first night you met them.

He extends the blade out towards you, hilt settled neatly in his open palm. “Would you like to do the honours? Or should I?”

You stare at the knife out before you, its blade a cool white, almost glowing within the cave’s dim lighting. He’s offering you a choice. Not of whether or not you will die, but how. Or better, by whom.

To do the deed yourself, or have it done by his own hand. 

Your hand hovers out in front of you, fingertips a mere inch away from the hilt. You stare at the knife, at its cool iron, at its spotless white blade. Soon to be tainted. Your hand shakes despite your attempt to steady it.

It’s a horrible, horrible decision to make.

Fortunately, the arrow that embeds itself in the commander’s arm liberates you from making it.

Sticking out from the crook of his elbow, nestled within a small gap in armor that was designed for amplified movement, the man lets out a shocked groan of pain. The knife clatters on the cave’s rocky floor as he brings his hand to the wound, the blood emerging from the black fabric not noticeable until it coats his pale fingers.

In unison, both you and the commander twist in the direction from which the arrow flew.

Seonghwa stands atop a rock in the far corner of the cavern, bow drawn up, still in the position from which he let the arrow fly. You nearly let out a cry of relief. Joyous, unadulterated relief.

A scream cuts through the air, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

There’s another noise, a gargled and choked sort of cry, and you hear the sharp sound of the many black-clad men unsheathing their swords before you actually see them do it.

This is because your focus is not on them. It’s on San, as he holds a body out before him. It’s one of the men that captured you on the mountain pass, the young blonde. San’s sword sticks out through the man’s chest, blood pooling out from his mouth as his eyes grow dim.

It’s immediate, how the cavern erupts into chaos.

“Seize them!” The commander orders his battalion, before ripping the arrow from his arm. Despite the blood leaking from the now open wound, his movements are agile as he removes the sword from his own sheath. The blade is as black as night, matching its shadowy hilt.

You stare him down, relinquishing your own sword, your mother’s sapphire glittering.

You prepare to take a step forward, however, something presses up behind your back. You prepare to twist around, strike the oncoming threat. However, San’s voice fills your ear, quiet as he speaks over his shoulder. “We move together.”

“Alright,” you breathe, lifting your long-sword out before you as San’s back presses into your own. “Together.”

The black-clad men attack.

They move at you from all directions. San places his free-hand along your waist, guiding you with him. The two of you move with the grace of one being, fending off the dark wave of men that surround you like a swarm of hornets defending their hive.

You swing at one of the men, catching his shoulder as San pushes on your left hip. You move with it, narrowly dodging the strike of a different enemy blade, the breeze of his swing cool against your cheek. The failed strike catches the owner of the blade off-balance, allowing you to seize the opportunity to stab your sword into the soft spot of his breastplate, straight through the opening just below the pit of his arm. The man cries out, face knotting together in agony as he falls to the ground.

You do not allow yourself the time to dwell on how you’ve likely just taken that man’s life, how there are even more to come, as you slice your sword along another soldier’s neck. Save yourself, save Woo, save your kingdom. You can mourn the horrors of your deeds later, for now that is all that matters.

You catch a glimpse of a man in the corner of your vision, hair the colour of flame as he sneaks in behind the soldier whose chest you currently run-through with your blade. You won’t reach him in time, his sword is raised high in the air, another second and he’ll bring it down on your neck-

An arrow shoots right through his skull, entering near his ear as the point sticks out the other side of his head. Blood sprays out from the wound, splattering onto your tunic. The man crumples to the ground, falling in the direction of the arrow’s path. Dead.

Your gaze shoots to Seonghwa. He stands atop the rock, eyes wide as his gaze falls to the man on the ground. The man he killed. Horror is plastered across his own expression, as if realizing what he has done. Woo had once told you that Seonghwa has only ever wounded with his arrows. He’s never killed, not even beasts.

You worry he will crumble, just as you did after the mimic, just as you had the first time you’d taken the life of something. Instead Seonghwa swallows hard, a glazed look to his eyes as he gives you a nod, before removing another arrow from his quiver. You have a sense he’s also saving his pain for later.

San tugs you to the left, and your gaze is pulled away from Seonghwa and back to the battle before you. A man swings at you, and you push backwards against San to avoid the swipe. You worry it will cause San to tumble, but instead he sinks lower on knees, flattening his back. Using it for support, you fall back and into the air, giving the man in front of you a firm kick to the chest that sends him backwards, crashing into a few of the men behind him.

You grin. It’s satisfying, watching the men who took everything from you struggle.

And struggle they do indeed. You and San work as a tight-knit unit as Seonghwa picks off the stranglers with his arrows, as well as those attempting to crawl atop his residing stone. 

“By the gods,” you think. “We’re winning.”

However, if you are aware of this, so is the man leading the operation. 

You search for the commander amidst the swarm of black armour surrounding you, trying to pin-point his dark beard and aging face. He doesn’t appear to be a part of the mob. 

“Do you know where he went? The commander?” You ask San, yelling over the sound of battle cries and the screams of the wounded. San does not respond immediately, likely searching for him amidst the crowd. 

San lets out a sudden growl of annoyance. “He’s with Woo.”

You glance over your shoulder, seeing the commander next to the elemental. He stands behind Woo, lips drawn close to his ear, hand placed on the elemental’s shoulder. You cannot hear what the commander is saying to him, but you know that it is nothing good. 

Woo’s eyes are wide, the purple where the white’s of his eyes should be growing darker. Tears stream down his face and they are a matching colour, like drops of ink. You can see Woo whispering something, and while you cannot make out the words, the desperation on his face makes you believe that he is begging. Although what he is pleading for you do not know.

Fire surrounds them, leaking from Woo’s fingertips and onto the cavern floor. The flames run thick, the consistency of molten lava. You’ve never seen that from an elemental before, didn’t even know it was possible..

“We need to make our way over there,” you say while stabbing your sword into the arm of a black-clad soldier. You can feel San nod his head in affirmation.

Wrapping his free hand tighter around your waist, San pulls you with him, the two of you spinning through an opening within the mob. You nearly trip over something, and upon looking down you see that it is a body. His dead eyes look up at you. They are a light hazel.

You would vomit if there was anything solid in your stomach.

San pulls you past the man before you can stare at him for too long, before you can memorize the features of his face, before you can wonder if it was he or you who killed him.

So much death. So much needless death. You close your eyes, only for the briefest of moments, for the split of a second. You imagine you are the person you had been a mere month ago. The girl who let her baths be drawn from her, her clothes picked out and placed on her body by others. The girl who sulked when Mingi left for battle training, who’d never held a sword in her hands, let alone ran someone through with it.

You open your eyes and know that you will never be her again. 

San continues to pull you with him through the opening within the dark swarm, letting go of your waist as the two of you break through and sprint towards Woo.

The commander continues to whisper into the elemental’s ear, more molten lava dripping from Woo’s hands. It forms in pools on the cavern floor, slowly trailing down the parapet in a way that reminds you of the baby basilisks, like long thin glowing snakes.

It’s not until now that you realize what the commander is doing, as Woo grows more and more affected by his words, blood-vessel’s bursting in his eyes as red mixes itself into the purple. A mosaic of burning hues.

The commander knows that he is losing, which means he’s pulling out a last resort, willing to play his wild-card. He plans to use Woo as a weapon. He’ll do whatever it takes to take you out, even if that means his battalion goes down with you. Bastard.

The commander steps back from Woo, walking over to the top of the chain tied to one of the stone pillars. He will set Woo free, grant him full range of motion with his gift. After all, an elemental can only summon flame with movement, with the dancing of their fingers or full swing of their arms.

Only Woo is not your average elemental.

Before the commander can finish untying the first chain, Woo screams. It’s not as animalistic as his last, but far, far more broken. Fire flares out from around him, a massive wave of curling flames that tumbles in all directions, standing over ten feet tall.

You grab San’s wrist, yanking him with you as you dive behind the nearest rock. Face pressed to the ground, you do not see the fire as it stretches over top of you, but you can feel its heat along your back even through your tunic. Screams echo from all around, bouncing off of the cavern's walls, and you know that not everyone was so lucky.

Once the heat disappears, both you and San are quick to settle onto your knees, peering up over the rock. Woo’s head has fallen back down, shrouded in tangled black hair, chest heaving as he catches his breath. The commander, who had fallen to the ground behind him, rises to his feet.

You gasp.

While it appears he managed to find shelter before the flames completely engulfed him, he also did not make it out unscathed. The left half of his face burns a bright red colour, the skin bubbling with boils in a way resembles lumps of flour in unkneaded dough. His dark hair is gone on the affected side, both on his face and the top of his head, smoke billowing out from his disintegrated scalp.

With so much of his skin burned off, his eye nearly pops from his head, stark against his bright red skin. He looks undead, like a walking skeleton, the teeth on the left side of his mouth permanently visible due to his upper lip having been incinerated. His gums bleed, the red almost glowing against the whiteness of his teeth.

Your gut twists at the sight of him, and you have to look away.

Black-clad soldiers sit slumped around the cavern, broken moans leaving their lips as the fire was not enough to kill them all. The agony of their cries fills your ears, and although you fight against it tears sting your eyes. You know that these are bad men, men who killed your father and countless innocents in the castle, who ruined your life and want nothing more than to see your end.

But right now they are just men. They are just human, each one with their own life and story, and they are dying a slow and horrible death.

The blow to the back of your head stops you from becoming too absorbed in remorse.

It comes sharp and quick, carrying the heaviness of what you assume is a rock, and your vision momentarily sways. It doesn’t knock you out, but it does throw you off balance, giving the attacker enough time to seize your wrist. They give it a sharp twist, causing you to let out a whine of pain as your sword clatters to the ground.

The culprit drags you from behind, and you fight to remain on your feet. You shout to San, and while he twists to face you he is moment too late, as the person from behind shoves you away from them.

And into the arms of the commander.

The commander grins, his smile even more unsettling with his missing lip as he casts an appreciative nod to the young, brunette soldier who had grabbed you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, uncomfortably tight as he turns you to face away from him, chest pressed against your back.

With his spare hand he holds a knife to your throat.

“Enough of this,” the commander says. “Put your weapons down.”

The world around you stills as San comes to a halt, gaze sharp as his good eye flickers between you and the commander, analyzing the situation. He appears to come to no solution as he slowly retracts his sword back into its sheath.

However, not everyone follows his orders.

“Let her go.”

Seonghwa no longer resides atop the rock, likely having dived behind it to avoid the flames. Now on the ground, he stands roughly twenty feet ahead of you, his bow up and arrow drawn.

“What an awful accent,” the man laughs, and his voice sounds more manic now that he is on the verge of defeat. Of death. His cheek presses to yours, and you can feel his spittle against your skin, smell the rotten tang of his breath. “Like a Mainlander that swallowed his tongue.”

Seonghwa’s frown deepens, eyebrows furrowing together as he pulls the bow taught.

“You let that arrow fly and we both go down with it, boy,” the commander warns, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Such an awful smile. “Choose wisely.”

For a moment you don’t understand what he means, but realization sinks like a stone in your gut. The ravine resides behind you, hundreds of feet deep, the belly of a monster whose darkness would swallow you whole. 

“Take your mutt and leave,” the man says to San, nodding towards Woo, who has returned to his slumped position, skin glistening with sweat as his arms tremble.

“So you can kill her as soon as we’re gone?” San bites back, tone venomous. “I don’t think so.”

“I promise to make it quick and painless,” the man says softly, before pressing the knife into your neck. Not deep, but enough to make you gasp in pain. “Otherwise I can make it very, very slow.”

Seonghwa’s hands grip tighter around the bow, San’s expression settling into a snarl of fury. However, neither of them move. If San moves to attack him, he’ll simply slice your throat. If Seonghwa fires the arrow, you’ll plummet with him. You try to reach Minho’s elixir in your pocket, but cannot manage it. Besides, even if you did manage to grasp it, there’s no way the commander would let you go long enough to down the liquid.

He has you cornered, and you all know it. 

Well, that is except for one of you. You turn to Woo.

The elemental does not look at you as you speak. “Woo,” you call, the knife sharp against your throat as it bobs. “Can you hear me?”

“No, he can’t hear you.” The commander whispers into your ear, and you can feel the hollowness of his cheek as he speaks, the rough and ruined texture of his skin.  “Or maybe he can, but who knows how much of him is even left in there.”

“Woo,” you call again, ignoring him, even as his words send a shiver down your spine. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s me. It’s us, we’re all here. San, Seonghwa and I. We’re all here.”

Woo twitches at this, although he still does not lift his head. You hear him murmuring something beneath his breath, and it’s a moment until you can register what he is saying.

“You’re not real,” he whispers, voice shaky and blubbered. “You’re not real.”

You swallow hard. “I don’t know what he did to you, and I don’t know what you’re seeing or hearing or what’s going on, but I need you to lift your head.”

He doesn’t respond and you try again. “Please, Woo. Please, just lift your head for me.”

It takes a moment, but shakily, he does. His hair falls in dark matted clumps over his blood-shot, purple-stained eyes. His pupils still do not focus on you, a distant vacantness to the broken expression across his tear-stained face.

“Leave me alone,” he says, and it is a hoarse, beaten plea. “Please, please just stop. Let me die. Don’t bring me back. Please. I deserve it.”

Your heart twists at hearing Woo - confident, self-assured, unbreakable Woo - say something so self-demoralizing.

However, it’s with these words, these broken claims that he deserves it, that you have an idea of what horrors he may be seeing before him.

“Wooyoung,” you say, and you notice as Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion at the name, San raising an eyebrow. Perhaps it's the first time they’ve heard it. “Wooyoung do you remember our conversation by the fire?”

“Please just stop,” he whispers, shaking his head as more of the molten lava begins to leak from his hands.You don’t even know if he’s still listening, but this is your last shot, so you push on.

“You told me that you knew you should regret what you did to the wardens, that it should eat you up inside. But it didn’t, because they deserved it.”

Tears continue to stream down Woo’s face, which is contorted in a pained, agonizing expression. However, as he does not deny your words or continue his broken mumbling, you take his silence as a sign to continue.

“I haven’t been able to forgive myself for what I’ve done, and I don’t think I ever will,” you continue, and you know both San and Seonghwa are watching you as you can feel the heaviness of their gazes. The confused curiosity mixed with desperation that swirls within them, staring intently. Yet, you ignore them. You ignore the commander and the knife at your throat, the wails of agony in the air and the thick stench of burnt flesh.

Right now it is just you and the broken elemental before you. You and Woo.

“But that’s the difference between us,” you say, swallowing hard. “I chose to harm people that never deserved it.”

“Enough of this,” the commander says through gritted teeth, pressing the knife harder against your neck. Choking down the increasing pain, you ignore him.

“And you never deserved it Woo, any of it. Any of what Warden did to you, any of my father’s cruelty, any of my lies. None of it was ever deserved.”

Woo’s breathing begins to escalate, but this time it is not as if he’s having trouble taking in air, it’s as if he has realized that he finally can.

“Enough,” the commander says again, with more anger in his voice as he appears to come to the same realization about Woo as you do.

“You’re there,” Woo whispers. His gaze is still lost and distant, his limbs still trembling and words blubbered with misery and fear. But there is also something more. Something powerful.

“We’re here,” you say back, relief blossoming in your chest. Even as the commander twists the back of your wrist and you let out a cry of pain, you’re filled with an undeniable, unbridled sense of hope.

“We need your help, Wooyoung,” you say, and the elemental swallows hard in response.

“I can’t,” he says, voice a quiet breath as he shakes his head in denial.

“You can,” you say, tone firm. You have him, even if only for a moment, and you will not let yourself lose him again. “You’ve done it before.”

Wooyoung stops shaking his head as he realizes what you are suggesting.

“Stop this!” the commander says, and now he’s shouting. He means it as a demand, as a threat, but it sounds instead an awful lot like a plea.

“You can do it, Wooyoung,” you say, the softness leaving your voice and replacing itself with a hardened encouragement. You will not yield.

“How do you know?” He asks, and even though his voice shakes, its weakness has fallen away.

A grin spreads across your lips. Even with the knife to your throat, the burnt bodies around, and the commander rotting breath hot against your skin, you smile.

You smile because you know you’ve won.

“Because, Wooyoung,” you say. “He deserves it.”

You can feel the commander’s grip around the knife clench, his elbow brought higher as he prepares himself to slice it clean across your throat.

“I said enough-” 

A blast of heat ignites from behind you, burning hot along your back, and you instinctively push forward. The commander's grip loosens without protest, the knife within his hand falling to the ground, clattering against the cavern’s rocky floor. A strong stench floods your senses, the same horrid and sickening scent that had previously hung around the cavern, only now increased ten-fold.

You twist around, putting yourself face-to-face with the commander, who’s entire body is engulfed in flame.

His screams leave him like waves crashing along the shoreline, powerful and ominous amidst their build-up but shattered and broken upon their downfall. The fire spreads across his body in a way that is almost unnatural, hugging close to his flesh as it eats away at his skin, a vicious parasite devouring him whole. He stumbles, and you cannot make out his expression, his face covered in the burning orange glow. Perhaps it is better that way.

He reaches forward blindly, his flame-covered hands extended outwards as he searches for your body. Even in death, he seeks to take you with him. Find his glory, his vengeance, even if it’s accompanied by his final breath.

And yet, even with all he has done to you, Woo, and your family, you grant the commander one final mercy. 

A quick death.

Reaching forward, you place your palms flat against his chest, giving him a firm push. It burns your hands, although only for a moment, as he stumbles backwards. His foot catches on one of the pegs tied together with rope before the cliff, sending him tumbling backwards. Time appears to stand still for a moment, an eternity slipping by as he hangs in the air, a ball of glowing flame suspended above the ravine’s gaping mouth.

He falls, the glow like a spark slowly diminishing, until it disappears entirely. You do not hear him crash against what lays beyond the darkness.

There’s a moment of silence that follows as you stare over the ravine’s edge. You half-expect the commander to fly back upwards, to catch you in a moment of weakness, suddenly equipped with new fire abilities of his own.

He does not. There is only darkness.

You turn back around. Both San and Seonghwa stare at you, both of their expressions difficult to place. Mouths parted slightly and eyes wide, they appear to be in disbelief. Awe, even. You imagine your face looks the same.

Woo sits with head hung over, eyes closed. For a moment you fear he is dead, but from the shaky rise and fall of his chest, you know that he is merely unconscious. 

There is the sound of footsteps as the few black-clad men left unscathed flee down the cave’s passage-way, leaving you behind. 

“Well,” San whispers, his good eye drifting from you, to Seonghwa, to the scattered bodies around you, before finally settling on Woo. He laughs, shaky and unsure, but at the same time so, so sincere. “Fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

next chapter coming soon.

thank you for reading! feel free to come chat with me about any thoughts you may have, feedback is the one thing that keeps me going tbh. also, if you’re bored in the meantime, here are both my ateez and skz masterlists for your convenience. i hope to see you around :3

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, Se3, ep 12 (Part 1)

The aftermath of the curse lifting~ Btw, the timeline is super messy. Flashbacks & background stories aren’t this anime’s best tool, it’s always felt messy when they attempt that. more on it in my side notes below. Now into the ep~

-Yuki & Machi: ( Blossoming Love!):

I love that the author attempted different direction of romantic love with yuki/machi that suits yuki’s personality! Opposite to kyo/tohru who had the (from best friends to lovers/ from roommates of 3 years to lovers). Yuki & machi’s love is based on natural crush & while she isnt his best friend, she’ll be his lover & they’ll know each other after dating. Both types of love are realistic & have their own path of dynamics, which is clear with how yuki/machi will be interacting & how kyo/tohru are now interacting since becoming official. I’m still bummed most of yuki/machi’s “noticing each other” is supposed to be off-screen, it robbed me of seeing yuki interact in a normal teenage-boy crushing on a girl which contrasts his relationship with kakeru, kyo, haru & tohru. Now, we’ll start the “ official-boyfriend yuki” stage! Also, this jump to confessions didnt help machi have any uniqueness beside being saved by yuki’s words from her trauma. watching her interact with him normally would’ve added realistic depth to her being a normal girl with unique cute quirks differently from tohru, Isuzu, kagura or even motoko!. Oh well~ moving on & focusing on the meaningful cute confession. I loved that altho there were a hug & a kiss, it didn’t have “ I love you” statement. You know they (will) love each other so dearly, but they’re in stage 1 now, she just called him by his first name for the first time! cute! I love that the emphasis is on the “ first name” calling since this is a huge key to yuki’s identity & struggle. Also, It is cute she bought a gift to tohru! This is a set-up to a healthy relationship with yuki since she isn’t jealous from a precious woman in his life that isnt related by blood.

-Moving towards the future: Kyoru’s final stage of growth!

By Kyokoy’s grave Kyo & tohru had key moment of growth & healthy closure to their core character issues::

1- Kyo’s toxic habit of running from life became a desire to run towards life!: While this habit is rightfully excused by his trauma, it needed to be addressed once his curse broke. We know he stopped running & faced his dad, confessed to tohru, accepted her love, embraced his crazy desire for her & accepted he deserved to be loved! Even ran towards tohru, chasing her! However, all the above is him running to the good current life in his grasp. He needs to run to the far away future this time! Needs to plan for the good & accept that the bad is part of it. struggling is part of life & he’ll endure it together with her, while enjoying life’s rewards.

I love that kyo is the one who suggested moving out to another city/place, cuz kyo was the one NOT living. He was long dead & trapped in the cage of his guilt & self-loath. Tohru at least was living thro helping others ( which is not real living but at least it’s better). Kyo was “ Mom, why didn’t you kill me instead of yourself?” ,“ I’ll kill yuki & then kill myself, would that please you, dad?!”, “ I cant forgive me, I dont want you to forgive me, tohru”. Walking on a road of self-destruction & slow death. But now, with tohru he wants life!!! all of it!! travel, learn, see, struggle, fail, succeed, build their own future by themselves.

I love that kyo didnt take tohru’s approval for his plans for granted. He really didnt think she’ll accept right away. He didnt even want her to dedice quickly, He was prepared for compromising to a better solution for them both. They’ll work other possibilities “ if i’m gonna live in this world, I want to do it with you”.

I love that kyo was real abt the obstacles ahead & didnt want tohru to just follow him based on love. He wanted her to decide on her own as well. He also, left the door open for her to change her mind anytime & this screams support & understanding!! Very powerful!.

2- Thoru’s toxic habit of being ashamed to desire anything for herself, living for others & wearing a happy “i’m okay” mask while concealing her true feelings became confidence, self-clarity & honesty: The tohru who was smiling while concealing grief on the beach is gone, the tohru who kyo had to coax her to “complain, be selfish” se01,ep5, to “not hide worrying over a relative’s sickness” se02, ep14 “ cry if she needs to” se3, ep6, is now telling kyo her honest opinion abt his proposal, while thinking of her own self as much as him & even objecting to his sentiment abt her mom’s words!!!!

I love that tohru is now a confident free woman making her own decisions based on self-honesty & communication with her partner. She wasn't just “okay” with it cuz he wants it while putting fake smile, No more of that. Now, she’ll say her true feelings, she asked him abt his plans, tried to see if it is a spur of the moment decision or if he really thought abt it. She also inquired where’s heading, who he talked to, what he’s planning! She is deciding for herself after hearing him! ok, this is your plan? I like it. I’m going!  Very powerful!.

I love that like how kyo was realistic abt the plan having some difficulties due to starting away by themselves, she was also realistic that it is indeed sad to part with my friends, my hometown, & my mom’s resting-place, but i’ll choose ME now. “I” want to go with you for “me”. This is not a bind I’ll follow you wherever love story, this is realistic depiction of healthy relationship. Acknowledging hardships & accepting them saves you from being crushed by failure, you’ll endure it when it eventually happens & move on, cuz God knows we DO fail & succeed! Life isnt smooth sailing~ 

I love that tohru complemented him on his plan cuz she could see that is a sign of growth. If she’s gonna share her life with this man, it is delightful to see that he is thinking of a happier, healthier & realistic future! Cuz kyo was this destroyed man~ so destroyed he was pushing her away despite loving her dearly, now, he’s asking her opinion & permission to accompany him!

I love that tohru made sure to touch upon kyo’s last scar “ my mom doesnt hate you” This is a scar that wont go away even if kyo is mentally healthy. Cuz death is the ultimate truth. He can never hear kyoko’s affirming her love for him, he’ll have to trust in it based on their earlier interaction together. Tohru is powerfully & stubbornly taking away most of his pain by affirming her acknowledge of her mom. You might disagree kyo, you might still feel a bit guilty, it might haunt you sometimes. but me? NO. Never. Mom loved you. She meant ONLY good. Hopefully my determination heals you bit by bit, & it DOES. Kyo stands bravely, confidently & happily in front of kyoko’s grave & instead of saying “ i apologize for hurting you, or tohru, I’m sorry, forgive me”.  he tells her he’ll keep their promise & protect tohru for life! he literally proposed there in front of her mom & all. T_T

-Kyoko’s Words: ( Sometimes, you don’t get to know the whole truth & that’s okay):

Can’t describe how much I love this part. This is the most painful yet important lesson in furuba. Life isn’t a movie where the entire truth is exposed to the characters or the audience. Sometimes you live & die without getting to know an important truth, hearing a much needed confirmation, or getting a loved one’s forgiveness. There are things in our life that we just can’t get back no matter how much we tried. What we do, then? die? despair? throw away what we DO have in our hands for this lost truth no matter how important it was to us? No, we do the only thing we can. Live. Not just go thro life’s motion, but really live. Accept the good & the bad. This is so goddamn easy & difficult as hell too!

-Kyo not knowing kyoko’s words at that time was tragic. It was so tragic it sent kyo into a suicidal descent into the abyss. The wounds of his mom’s death that were slowly healing with kazuma’s care got re-opened & poured blood! The old destructive habits became full force, The toxic coping habits returned with its ugliness. I can’t kill myself literally? I’ll do it figuratively. trapped, caged, destroyed, eyes shut, ears closed, only seeing his pain. Kyo is us. All of us in any moment of true crushing despair. He could never bring the dead back, hear their loving words or ask forgiveness. Thro kyo, the author is telling us... I know. You had your moment of lost truth, didn’t you? I know. IT IS OKAY. live, my child. your pain is valid, let it take its course, but afterwards live bravely.

-Kyo’s path towards healing is: the ugliest cuz it hurt tohru of all ppl, the longest cuz he was the last one to move on, the bloodiest cuz he’ll never have the ppl he lost, the rockiest cuz he failed & failed, the most frustrating cuz he repeated his mistakes over & over, He couldnt even do it alone. needed intervention & support. He lost hope. completely. But it is okay even if you fell as deep as kyo: stand up. even if you never learned the truth: let go. even if you were the last one to learn or heal: it isn’t a race. Embrace life with its good & bad & continue as kyoko said “ you fought well”

-Kyoko’s parting plea to her daughter broke my heart into pieces. Death is ugly, but death is a truth that we can’t escape. The leaving ones is hurting as much as the ones left behind, but hopefully, the leaving ones will find a happiness a kin to the ones left behind. yuki’s "say a prayer & move one, one step at a time” is all you can do.

-Kyoko was: a gangster who hurt others (ugly path), repented, married & had a daughter (fulfilling path), widowed & left her daughter while grieving (ugly path), came back, repented & tried to raise tohru well, love her enough! (fulfilling path), died & left her young high school daughter all alone (heartbreaking path) but she accepted that the last path isn’t sth she can fight, prayed, & accepted her fate~

-Kyoko~~ “ you fought well”  while you were alive~ you really did! The Tohru you left behind helped a whole clan & hopefully readers as well! you tohru is loved by an entire generation of readers & anime watchers. Tohru is so precious & I can’t stop crying~

Side Notes:

Timeline is super messy & confusing. (a) Tohru’s hospital discharge, kyoru’s hug & curse break for everybody all happened at the (late) afternoon. While curse was breaking, akito was wearing her white kimono & she cried until tohru hugged her on sunset. (b) Before tohru’s hospital shigure’s face was scar-less. we first saw the scar in the afternoon & he was wearing his kimono.

Now the flashback, Akito wearing her outfit from her talk with the maid (which also happened while kyo was talking to his dad which is on the same day) & shigure wearing suit & it’s sunset time??????? How can the sunset happen before the curse break on the afternoon? She inflected the scars on the sunset, how did he have them on the afternoon of the same day?? both changed outfits which is even weirder??? Someone help me put things on order. Or is order not important? If the sequence of events isn’t important, then, why did it have to happen on the curse break day??? Shigure could’ve had his scars a day or two before tohru’s discharge.

Also the OP started in the middle of yuki’s scene which was so odd!

No big deal, but I still feel that yuki’s curse break would’ve been thematically powerful last ep. Especially after seeing The Zodiac Ruler come & collect the spirits. The legend would've been wrapped powerfully on the same ep where it was told. We see the zodiacs’ original story & we see its closure. It would’ve made tohru/akito’s hug more symbolic. An end of an era to akito & to them all. Real Goodbye to the zodiac animals, but now we had a goodbye & a half. lol.

Is yuki the only one seeing the cursed spirit? He looked down at it? I dont remember the others looking down where an animal would be? Is yuki’s curse special? different? He got all the ropes/bonds around him? I really thought yuki’s theme is all abt desiring to be normal & despising the “special” treatment that haunted him even in school. 

Momiji/ kagura /kyo interaction is cute!

Haru/Yuki/ Isuzu interaction is cute as well. XD

Kagura, girl, you used to have best fashion, what’s up with jeans under knee length dress?! lol.

I’ll be honest. It is a lost opportunity that machi weren't made to question how teen-tohru is yuki’s mom. That would’ve solidified her as a unique stand alone character if she were to discuss it with yuki. Tohru being yuki’s mom figure is not normal, otherwise yuki’s entire dilemma of figuring out his feelings for tohru would’ve become meaningless. Having machi quickly “understand” it is a bit weird. But it helps the plot move quickly, I guess. ( it reminds me of Arisa hugging akito when she confessed stabbing kureno without questioning anything, it is weird, but you get the message that “ we aint got time for that~ gotta hop on the next plot).

I love that furuba subverted the old anime-trope of the entire happy cast staying together in one city/place & living exactly like they did in their teens except being married now! XD. It is so realistic that each character is now moving on their path of life~

Tohru wore a ring in her foreshadowing vision! SHE WORE A RING! My baby girl is a grown woman now~ T_T. I love tohru so much!~

Shigure/ akito & the last banquet is in my review part 2. I’ve been editing out any thoughts abt Shigure from my previous posts. I needed to see the whole picture first. I think can now talk abt them, I’m looking forward to the comments of the next part cuz I really really need to see if I understood it or if i’m off.

[alex-fucking-dempsey]

SPOILERS FOR 13 REASONS WHY SEASON 4 EPISODE 1: WINTER BREAK

i was high almost the whole time this is a reaction ig sjsjsjs

Clay is narratating baby boy

Who tf died?

I called it monty fucking lived I FUCKING *flips tables*

So winston shut the fuck up if alex fucking goes to jail 🔪🔪🔪

Monty is horrfying omfg also the way hes talking abt the racial system

period tell him clay

aYO WHAT THE FUCK CLAY??? Is monty alive???

Clay looks so good shut the fuck up everyone

Dylan Minette pls sir get in guts

Clay is going insane lowkey scared

I miss Ryan Shaver n Scott Reed, end post

CLAY PUT THE GLASS AWAY MF

clay is too pretty im-

i hope tyler is okay ;-;

They are dating iM IM SORRY????

i just realize wtf is sheri? Where has been😭

clay lowkey reminds of tony

Tyler :(

tyler and clays friendship>>>

"ass shoes" - jess

Shes MOVING????

"Clay-cray" "clazy" the way i wanna marry Jessica

The way im high as hell the monty illusions i hate em

Alex dad >>>>

The only cop i stan

quick break: black lives matter.

okay Tony serve the looks

Where has justin been

ZACH MY BOY I LITERALLY LOVE HIM

PLEASE SIR LET ME LOVE YOU

ohhhhh justin was OHHHH

Okay but im zach showing up eveeywhere high as hell

justin n clay >>>>

Matt >>>>

jess n justin >>>

god i love this show sm sm

WE BITCH WHO IS WE

tony = tylers mom

Zach n alex stay a million feet apart for no reason

wAIT THIS DUDE

did he replace scott where is scott fuck u

US??? BITCH YOUR NEW GO AWAY WHO IS US

cookies: stan

alex is so nervous

oMG TYLER N NEW GUY HAVE VEEN CHILLING

I love zachs vibes

AGAIN WHO TF IS WE ANI SHUT UP

oh new guys name is charlie sisjsj

oH MY

justin what ;-;

you know what you tell her honey :(

I feel you lowkey jess :(

mERRY CHIRSTMASSSSSS

oh no ;-;

iF ALEX IS BEIBG LINKED BACK TO THW MURDER BY THIS STUPID COP IMA MD RIOT

alex looks so good rn sir pls

everyone: alex dont say anything

alex: SO FUCK YOU-

why does bill looknso diifferent

winston: mourning over his bf :(

winston needs to stoo being weird

Justin n clay getting new phones so sweet

Clay looks so good in that pic ;-;

why does everyone look so goddamn goos in the season wtf

hEY QUICK MF QUESTION DOES CLAY FUCKING DIE 🔪

ani n jess would make good friends with Sheri :(

I am one of the few who does like ani ngl

Justin serves looks sir pls

i swear i lean toward women but yall 😭the men in this mf show

Clay quit being awkward

I want ani and jess to live together

she best see her mom every weekend

sHE SAID: HER CURFEW IS 5 MF 🔪

does ani not like clay????

Yall jess best not be starting a forest fire

I forgot ani and bryce were fucking

ani is thicc lowkey

Yall i have work im upset

Is that the same whisper sound from assassins creed

WTF JESS SEEING BRYCE SCARED ME JESUS

ayo what the fuck?

yes jessica you fucking tell him

wtf is metal detector gonna do bro

I hate boland anyways

wINSTON QUIT LOOKING SO MF SUS

Estella is so pretty

Who is she Jess??

What???

Im confused

Zach >>>>

zach breathes and im all "wow so hot"

is no one going to college???

wINSTON GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM TYLER 🔪🔪🔪🔪

you getting cut if you are mean to my boy

thank god for ani

Fuck winston this lil mf gives me the heebegeebes

justins going to college imnso proud

oh shit winston is fine tho

also wtf do you mean it can kill you ima mess this mf up

wHY DID JESS GO BACK WITH- ANI PLEASE SHUT UP

okay ani pls dont call clay out (she wants a knife to her face)

poor clay has to pretend hes okay for everyone else

Im tired of seeing monty beibg a creep

Ani: *whispers* clay no wait-

LEAVE ESTELLA ALONE PERIOD

fuck off yall bitches

yEAH CHARLIE YOU TELL HER

who the fuck ONG

RHATS MONTYS SISTER WTF

monty n hannah n bryce: haunts ppl

CLAY GO RUN UP ON THOSE MFS

yall mfs really wanna box HURT CLAY-

OMG CLAY IS SO HOT PUNCH THAT MF

ani n clay: know who killed bryce

Also ani: THEY DONT WANNA BELIEVE HE KILLED BRYCE

im sorry???

tell ani clay :(

wINSTON DONT FUCKING TOUCH TYLER I WILL WHOOP UR MF ASS 🔪🔪🔪🔪

zACH N ALEX ZACH N ALEX EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP

alex: worried abt alex

zach quit being mean to ur bf

zach is being so inconsiderate eat ass bro

HES GONNA TAKE ALEX OUT OKAY NVM I LOVE HIM

:( they still wont take them back annoying

justin dont-

Snitches get stitches end up in ditches qnd get no bitches bro you know the code

okay clay dont get all pissy bro

that was a weird transition

EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LITERALLY I HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES ITS SCOTT OH MY GOD MY BOY

i had no idea he was a senior why didnt they say that

oh ny god this explains the absence of ryan then ig but i miss scott more than anything ong

This confirms clays in love with scott i dont make the rules

LOOK AT HOW SWEET SCOTT IS BEING ONG EVERYONE I LOVE HIM FUCK

clays jeans >>>

i was expecting hannah tbh not ani

omg no clay :( u cant save everyone- it would have been more powerful coming from hannah lowkey disapointed

clay is finally getting help, proud

Clay looks so fine omg im sorry but he looks great

everyone in this seasn is looking so fine wtf

Winston is so pretty :(

he rlly liked monty my heart lowkey is broken

wHAT THE FUCK ZACH

the WAY ZAHC JUST SAVED ALEXS LIFE

WHAT THE FUCK

IM SO CONFUSED

HE JUST KISSED HIM

ZACH SHUT THE FUCK UP

no :(

Im going to sob

I have a feeling theyll kiss again and itll be on zachs volition

The anxiety i havfor alex

Also lowkey zach kissed back

the fucks i give ima write so many fics istg yall

brb ima go get high rq

they are gonna trace it all back to clay im so nervous

tyler best keep his mouth shut

Clay is so funny sjsjsjs hes so scarcastic like okay emo edge lord

season 2 is still superior i stand by that statement

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTERS 10 + 11

we had a week of peace and now we’re gonna get annihilated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have no clue how long this liveblog may end up but hell and high water i’m combining them both

she tore the jade pendant from her neck and flung it into the darkness.

let’s give a warm welcome, to sadness,

i’m very excited for all-new cinder content hhhhhhh if u havent gathered by now I Love This Bitch and I Love Her Many Problems so im thankful for this gift 😞

Cinder was a ruin, her pride carved and served like slabs of meat.

i can FEEL diesel n kc rly patting themselves on the back for every bit of wet meat they can toss at me!!!!!!!!!! U HEAR THAT I CAN FEEL U!!!!!!!!!!! but also i still love this shit w/ all my heart!!!!!!!!!! IM NEVER GONNA STOP SAYIN IT

She had never looked at Glynda’s files.

im so sorry cinder baby but that whole thing? is still HILARIOUS oh my GOD i cannot believe you fucked up that badly. u shoved yr entire head into a beartrap. u absolutely crapped yr pants on that one. yr gonna be thinking abt that on yr deathbed,

/looks at the chapter title again

hhhhhhhh im. so pumped. its gonna be hard to talk abt most of this w/o doing a million fingerguns a minute but i’m gonna try my best

Cinder approached the mirror and touched its silvered face with black-tipped claws,

I SAID IM GONNA TRY MY BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was iron barbs beneath the nail bed, glowing coals underfoot, the singular capacity to do harm. She was a beast, armed with fang and claw and a deep, dark void where her compassion should have laid, and she was dressed for dinner.

HHHHHH god YES THIS IS THE CINDER IM THIRSTY FOR............ i literally cannot say anything that isnt a massive 👈😎👈 but AAAAAAA

like im reading thru this and i cant cherry-pick lines this whole bit? is SO GOOD...  kc n diesel are Yet Again obliterating me w/ their mastery of the narrative style of offal hunt and i just love all of this i rly wish i could explain how offal hunt is EXACTLY MY BRAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F U C K

The final touch on her mastercraft disaster: the four sawed-off horn stumps which grew among her silver-streaked hair.

HOOOO B O I i am. Losin it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER HORNS.......... CINDR...............

Wretchedly, she wondered: did Glynda even respect her now?

any other villain: my plan didnt work and im mad >:( cinder fall: my plan didnt work and now im mad but also mostly sad :(

CINDER’S TRYING HER BEST GOD.......... i literally hate how the remaster has made her So Soft, Actually... I BELIEVE IN U CINDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YR BEST

Every part of her was hot and hollow. She was sick with loathing.

i LOVE HER.... CINDER I HOPE U KNO THAT YR LOVED... god tho i dont like how SAD I AM RN... cinder’s so small and the world is so big and wants 2 Shit On Her blease

honestly like. im rly- LOOK I SAID THIS BEFORE BUT. this is why im rly lovin the new cinder content because in the first version we only got glimpses of her internal machinations and now we’re in full-blown Always Sad territory and everything is suffering :)

She blinked. Her double did not.

‘well’, thought murphy. ‘that’s terrifying.’

she’d only survived thanks to a keen instinct for danger, cultivated during her tenuous teenage years.

i NEED. I NEED. CINDER BACKSTORY. all these lil nuggets dont constitute a meal! I WANT A BIG MAC AND FRIES. WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS BABY DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also again. the body horror of offal hunt? peak content. Im Lovin It

its getting harder to divine what is and what is not a 👈😎👈 because we got bits sprinkled around and theres only rly a spoiler potential if u glue em all together so im still being extra careful and the answer is blared in everyones faces so this whole kondor scene will go uncommented unless some Bullshit Happens which it will, so,

When she had become so invested in Glynda’s approval? When had a desire to be recognized as something inhuman, something ferocious, something black and terrible and capable of keeping up with Glynda Fucking Goodwitch turned into this?

oh! oh! i have the answer! i do! i know the answer! it’s you a lesbian,

The spectres of her youth haunted this city, owl-eyed children and fox-eared teens. They’d been a second sort of family, the only kind she’d had within these walls, and she’d wondered what had become of them in the past decades, but…

It was too sentimental, and she wasn’t meant to be a creature of sentiment.

oh boy okay wow

okay so actually this bit made me cry??? fuck OFF im losing it!!!!!!!! LET HER BE SENTIMENTAL!!!! LET HER HAVE PPL TO CARE ABT!!!!!!!!!! IM LITERALLY CRYING IM GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!

She would go barefoot from this point on, her heels clutched at her side. When she left the hotel room to steal into the night, she promised herself not to look back.

im sorry im just. so sad rn. i havent cried over a fic in YEARS and we still have another chapter ago i hate this SO MUCH..............

here comes chapter 11 

if i cry even once more im going to stab!!!!!! im not sure what BUT ILL STAB!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even without his wings, the Manticore would easily have been twice the size of any of the other Grimm, far outstripping them in sheer bulk.

HATI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HATI HATI HATI

holy shit we actually get to see him this time!!!!!!!!!!! WE GET TO SEE THIS LEGENDARY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS CHONCC,

also hes a manticore now which is, Radical, may i just say, and just a little bit sexy,

The effortless grace in each move betrayed power most Grimm would not live to achieve. Once he stood, he had to dip his head low to meet her eye to eye. His canines were the length of her forearm.

if u werent here for the remaster? we never even SAW hati but now hes here, hes Big, and rly thats all that matters,

Like a child who’d been allowed to lie and lie until at last they’d strangled themself in the web they’d spun, Cinder couldn’t speak. Could only wait on his verdict.

every single one of cinder’s inherent themes is killing me and this business w/ family? stop. im dying. this is rude

The scant space between them popped and cracked like an sparking flame, warm and effervescent, and this time, Cinder lingered, hugging Hati close.

IF I CRY ONCE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF U ASSHOLES MAKE ME CRY ONCE MORE I WILL DOXX YOU,

aaaaaaaaaaaaaah im loving this content i rly dont have words for it dhjfgsdfgjh i just, rly like the words, and the order theyre in, and i honestly keep forgetting to liveblog it cause i just wanna READ EM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tempting as it was—as it always had been, ever since she’d left the relative safety of the wastes and learned what happened to scraggly-limbed teens with horns and fangs and gleaming eyes—

with every chapter i desperately have 2 kno more abt baby cinder i HAVE to know i am so. UNBEARABLY CURIOUS... baby cinder what happened... what happened 2 u....

A lantern’s glow warmed her, bleeding into the darkness leeching at them both. It was a gentle gold across her skin, and like an answering signal from a distant outpost, Cinder saw a flush of light through the dark fur lining Hati’s throat, as though flames licked at his insides.

i forgot. that cinder glows like that when she feels Loved or full of pride and you know what i dont like these chapters. they were made to hurt me and i Dont Like That (im mclovin it)

From the safety of Hati’s neck, she found it easier—after all this time, he was still her bastion.

WHEN YOU REALISE? THAT YR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?? STOP,

For a regular person, the machine would be able to draw out short bursts of power, the likes of which no Semblance could ever channel. The taxation would eventually destroy the soul so deeply, so thoroughly, as to leave it empty for good.

For a Witch? For—

the fact. she cut herself off before she could think ‘for glynda’. has me on the FLOOR. this bit is just So Much i dont like it

Glynda Goodwitch would not abandon this hunt. Cinder knew it, had read it from her palms like an open book—Glynda Goodwitch did not know how to stop. If it had been anyone else on Remnant, they might never return, might never pull themselves back into action after today—but Glynda did not have a shred of self-preservation.

me, knocking against cinder’s head: u kno for someone w/ so many schemes in yr brain yr pretty dumb and gay, huh,

firstly let’s talk abt cinder’s “””””””””””””””””””self-preservation””””””””””””””””””” instin-- whats that? not found? yes

[Glynda’s] eyes were empty, hungry, insatiable.

i feel like ive read this line before! lets jump back a chapter--

In [Cinder’s] eyes, there was a subtle, endless hunger.

WAKE UP CINDER SHE’S YR SOULMATE!!!!!!!!!!! THE COFFEE’S READY U CAN SMELL THE BACON FROM HERE WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With a fluid leap, they were in the air, the ground quickly shrinking beneath them. Pressing her face against his neck to shield herself from the wind, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was to come, trusting Hati to deliver her safely.

that said i ADORE my boy hati is literally the best part of offal hunt kc and diesel do not interact,

He was frozen in horrific anticipation, like watching an imminent tragedy and being absolutely helpless to stop it. Like all the tension was mixed with grief and hopeless, futile fear.

when will offal hunt be nice to me. when will any of these characters get to be happy. hello. im full of sadness.

The sound was like a saw working back and forth, but resonating inside her head, rattling every tooth in her jaw, deafening to her ears.

im literally gritting my teeth at this i can hear it in my own head and its Very Bad!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

okay god i can barely handle to quote anything more this bit is hurting ME so lets swiftly move on before I Die

Cinder closed her weary eyes, sinking into sleep like a shallow grave.

BE NICE TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE TO HER JUST THIS ONCE, PLEASE, IM BEGGING YOU,

They only knew death, only ever sought death; fangs and claws slicked with blood, magic rending meat and marrow apart, and everywhere that choking, scalding heat, spilled blood like magma, like the core of a planet.

hmm... that seems like a 👈😎👈 ~reference~

They were all alert, ears pricked, hackles raised like Hati’s. They all fixed on the same spot, somewhere beyond the darkness of the cave opening, and though she could barely think, she knew:

She was out of time. The Witch was here.

oh no.

okay so THATS CHAPTERS 10 AND 11! i only cried ONCE and u kno what thats. a Victory. these two chapters were VERY GOOD i rly loved em and i can tell new readers r gonna have a blast w/ this shit!!!!!!!!!! meanwhile i, a veteran reader, am full of peril,

terrible.

[trickstarbrave]

we need to invent a new word for when the place ur living in just sucks so bad u hate everything and lose a bit of enjoyment from life. like regular depression but different. 

i just moved out of our old apartment we stayed in since june 2019. the walls were tall, grey-white with grey carpet and grey-brown counters and a too small kitchen. the ceilings were tall but in an uncomfortable way, with lots of pipes and vents and beams painted grey. there were exactly 3 windows in the whole 2 bedroom apartment, two side by side in the living room, one tiny narrow one in our bedroom. there was little view to speak of, just more brick and a view of the sky and some birds our cats would watch in the morning. there was very very few overhead lights-- one over a table that was sort of a dining room but mostly was my gf’s desk, and some small led ones in the kitchen. that was it. no bedrooms had lights, we had to use exclusively lamps and given how tall the ceilings were they did very little to help brighten it up

i was enthusiastic at first abt living with my gf and starting a new chapter in life. i tried to make myself at home, get settled in. i tried cooking more, and i became frustrated with the narrow kitchen. even tho i am basically nocturnal the lack sunlight was wearing on me. i would have gone outside more, but im disabled and our building was not as wheelchair accessible as they liked to claim--i was basically stuck unless i wanted to make sure someone went with me to help get me to the door and open them for me, so just talking a walk outside was a giant pain.

slowly, even before lockdown, i lost my luster for life and going outside. i didn’t wanna bother. lockdown intensified it, i think, as before i would find reasons to go out even in the freezing cold, bc at least in the city as dreary as it was there was Stuff. Places. new things to try. then there wasn’t even that. i stared at grey-white walls and hated it. i hated how tall the ceilings were. we couldn’t even change the batteries in the smoke detectors if they were low bc they were 12 feet in the fucking air and loud as shit so we had to call maintenance (they went off while we were moving out. maintenance didn’t even come for reference, and the manager just said ‘she would talk to them’ and then hung up on me like we didnt have to sleep there with them blaring all night). clutter piled up easily and stressed me out but i had no motivation to clean. i only realize looking back that i fucking hated that place. if i could paint the walls or have more windows or a fucking balcony i would probably feel at least a little better but we couldnt so much as hang smth up without permission and if we did we had to pay a fine to our landlord.

and believe me i know people have it worse. i know some people have to live with massive roach infestations, or mold problems, or the walls caving in, or faulty wiring. i know people have to live with shitty or no water, barely scraping by, and this isnt to say they dont suffer, they probably suffer the same thing but more. 

we had to move out bc the cold was just not doing a lot of us favors and i missed my home state, but we weren’t able to find a place to rent. luckily my great grandma passed away in 2016 and my family was able to keep the house. its not in any condition to sell or rent or anything as a lot of the pipes are old and clogged, and the AC vents were put DIRECTLY on top of the wiring so the place is a hazard but (probably) wont actively kill us, and my family said we can live here if we help fix it up and dont mind the inconvenience. i know its more than other ppl have and im thankful for it. we (mostly) have AC, one working shower, toilets, a fridge, a haunted microwave, internet i had to pay to get set up, and a place to sleep. but now i can just take a step out on the porch. enjoy the slightly cool air of early morning and how it smells. i can open the windows and get sunlight and let my cats freely watch birds. our kitchen isnt cramped. things are kinda dirty but they are warm colors with lower ceilings and despite how worn the house is and how much work it needs it feels like a breath of fresh air. like an actual place designed for ppl to live in and enjoy living in rather than smth resembling an underground bunker. 

i think we as a society have undermined the very real fact that is: people need nice places to live to be mentally healthy too. we need to be able to get fresh air, and sunlight at least a few hours a day, and have control over our spaces. they are not luxuries but instead something core to the human experience we should acknowledge and encourage. we can’t just keep making shitty industrial apartments build like prisons or bunkers. humans are animals we need like, enrichment. pleasure. comfort. small things that make life a little easier. things you dont realize you need until you’re very far gone or finally get them back and realize how miserable you were.

[newriter]

i know it still haunting each one of us. She might still broken, me either. Though my relationship with him didnt go for more than years like they did. I am still the one whot get hurted played by him. Said we would make it right but he didnt take it as serious thing. Thats suck. Suck enough for me to adapt with the fact. I know she hurted more than myself but syd love her. Syd fight for her.but he didnt fight for me. He asked why we cant talk abt this at first, and put the blame on me. It was terrifying how he manipulated everything. Its suck. I dont want to go back to him. He dont deserve any part of me ,and my soul.i wish me and her will heal and meet someone who are bettsr 🙂

[yellodisney]

nobody’s sour bitch your just too big for your boots and u aint even abt that life so calm down Mr .

[barnesandnobleoffanfictions]

Addiction

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could send in a request? Maybe one that is very angsty; the reader and sherlock have a very compelling case, like the one in series four where sherlock develops a MASSIVE drug habit (for the case) and the reader does too. Only, she can’t simply ‘stop’ as easily as sherlock can, and he tries to help her before its too late? Also, if the pairing could be platonic, that’d be great! So sorry if it’s too specific. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

A/N: Really sorry if this didn’t come out how you’d like, i tried my best to stay with the prompt. This is my first request ever so I’m really nervous abt this one bc i think it sucks.

Warnings: Drug usage, mild swearing, angst, and SPOILERS

It had been 7 months since Mary died. Through out this entire time you had been there for both Sherlock and John. Comforting John as he became a widower and a single father. And helping Sherlock over come his guilt. It was only until recently that the boys started talking again, rekindling their friendship after the arrest of Smith. John still lives on own with Rosie, leaving Sherlock by himself once again. You lived on your own several towns away from London but still made the trip to visit Sherlock. You both didn’t expect much out of each other and that’s why you made such good friends.

You’d met simply by chance just passing by on the streets of London. After several more awkward encounters you and Sherlock had gotten close. He expected you to desert him during the few weeks he was off the deep end doing heavy drugs and stumbling about. It was you who proved him wrong and checked up on him before and after work. Helping him to bed when he got too rowdy and pulling him off the living room floor when he passed out.

Since his quick recovery Sherlock had been trying to get back to his normal, arrogant self. You considered yourself lucky that he was able to go cold turkey on the drugs, seeing how it was purely to help John’s case. In John’s absence you picked up a few loose ends in Sherlock’s cases. Eventually Sherlock considered you and John his two best friends.

You walked up to Baker street with your hands shoved into your coat pockets. You had just finished your day shift waitressing and received a few texts from Sherlock.

“(Y/n) I need you, come quickly. - SH”

“The sooner the better. -SH”

“(Y/n). -SH”

“S.O.S. -SH”

You came still branding your work shirt, but the puffy coat you wore covered it. A black beanie covered your ears and the autumn wind brushed past. You opened up the door of the building not bothering to knock. “Hello.” You called up the stairs, unzipping your coat and kicking off your boots.

Sherlock appeared at the top of the stairs. “Where have you been?” He asked dramatically. “I rang you several times.” You shook your head and laughed. “You always do that.” You started to walk up the stairs to meet him. “I told you it was urgent.” He pressed grabbing hold of your wrist and pulling you up the stairs faster. “It’s always urgent with you Sherlock. If you only rang me once then I’d know something was really wrong.” You teased sarcastically letting him pull you along.

When you and Sherlock made it to the living room he let go of your wrist and turned to face you. “I need your help.”

You looked around the messy flat, seeing papers and empty files scattered about. “What’s going on?” You asked shifting your weight. “I have a case.” He announced loudly walking to the window in the corner. As he stared out to the street you bit your lip and looked at him thoughtfully. “I’m not really seeing the issue here Sherlock. You love having cases, what’s wrong with this one?”

He looked you over to you, a deep scowl set on his face. “This one has to do with drugs. Not just any drugs, my drugs.” You glanced to the kitchen quickly, eyeing the chemistry set on the table. “You make drugs now huh?” You scoffed. You bit your bottom lip nodding your head in disbelief. “No I don’t make them I reproduce them. I have a case where a client says they were under the influence of a certain drug on the night an accident happened. I wasn’t able to get the same amount he had reported using. So I got a sample from him and made more of it. To the quantity he said he’d consumed that night. Now as a recovering addict and the host of this experiment I can’t consume the drugs to test his alibi. If a person consumes these drugs and becomes debilitated then we know it was an accident and most likely not him. If the person who consumes them is fine, my client is a murderer.” He explained quickly rushing about the room references to the table and papers as he spoke.

“So you called me here to do your dirty drugs?” You clarified sarcastically. Sherlock sighed loudly pinching the bridge of his nose. “In a sense, yes. I don’t have anyone else to do it.” He said following you as you turned to leave. You wanted to help Sherlock but you knew that in taking the drugs you were somewhat becoming like him. That side of him you fought with and stuck by those few terrible weeks would now come back in you. You were worried about what you’d say if you were high, you’d never done it before and didn’t know what toll it would take on your mind. You saw how insane they’d made Sherlock, how infuriating and rude they caused him to be. You knew that in saying this he would never understand.

“I’m sorry Sherlock, they’ve ruined too much in my life already. I won’t let them ruin me too.” You didnt look at him, you simply slipped through the door and closed it behind you.

You’d just spoiled an entire case for Sherlock. Instead of respecting your words he was infuriated by them. He had always sacrificed everything for his cases, and that’s why he did the drugs before. He didn’t do them out of selfishness. Sherlock didn’t bother looking after you outside the window. He was too frustrated to worry after you, now he had to try to find someone else who would be able to assist him without John or Mycroft finding out. Molly was not an option, she would surely refuse and Sherlock didn’t want to ask her to taint herself like that. Settling down by the fireplace he resorted to his mind palace for other options.

Work had dragged on the next day for you. Business was slow giving you much more time than you needed to be alone and think. You decided you text Sherlock, hoping that he’d figured it out and solved the case.

“Morning!”

The door bell chimed, signaling another costumer had come in. You went to greet them at the door ushering them to a table and returning with menus. As you introduced yourself you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. After a short chat you made your way back into the kitchen fetching your phone out. “Oh it is. Have you decided to help? - SH”

Your heart sunk slightly, this telling you both that he hadn’t slept and that he was mad at you. You hesitated while thinking of a reply.

“I’m sure that you can find other ways.”

You went to put your phone away when it buzzed in your hand again.

“This is the only way, I’ve tried to think of other options. No other candidates and I must keep this secret from Mycroft. - SH”

“I can come over after my shift and help you.”

“If you’re not going to do the drugs then you’re useless to me. - SH”

You locked your phone and threw it in your purse not replying. Walking to your table you couldnt help but agree with Sherlock. You meant nothing to him until you did something he needed.

Arriving at your flat later on you felt like absolute shit. You let Sherlock’s few words bend you out of shape. Before Mary died you had been a newly recruited friend. Mostly seeing the boys out the door safely and assisting with babysitting Rosie. You’d even been watching her the night Mary took the shot for Sherlock in the aquarium. You’d only heard about it when John came home alone early in the morning completely destroyed. You were sleeping on the couch in the living room, Rosie’s baby monitor next to your ear. As the early morning sun snaked in through the curtains you saw John open the door with heavy arms. They fell to his side as more sunlight escaped into the room. His eyes were red and he has blood on the front of his clothes.

You rushed to him in panic putting your hands on his shoulders. “John what happened to you?” He looked at you with glossy eyes. A torn expression was haunting his face. “Mary is gone. If you would, I need some time alone.” He pushed your hands away and walked past you without another word. You stayed in the house like a ghost until Molly came to watch after Rosie. You went home later that afternoon and broke down in the shower. Laying on the floor of the tub you came to the realization that the only person who ever listened to you was gone.

You were never really able to mourn Mary. You went from chasing the boys out the door to chasing their demons away when they broke down. You knew that you weren’t really helping either of them to get closure. But John always assured you that he needed you there to support him. Although Sherlock never said a word of gratitude or protest you knew he needed someone too. The times you held him in your arms while he cried was enough proof of that to keep you returning, even as things got worse with him.

You sat at your dining room table with a bottle of vodka overthinking. You still were completely dressed from work and it was nearing 11:30. You didnt have to work the next day so you took your time getting up and running yourself a bath. You walked with the bottle firmly in your hands taking long drinks from it and undressing in your room. You wrapped yourself in a robe and sat on the closed toilet seat as the tub filled. Putting music on you threw your phone on the counter and shut the door. You lowered yourself in the water letting your hair down.

As the alcohol started taking its toll on you your emotions attacked you in waves. You cried in between your fury at Sherlock and your apparent helplessness. Your phone vibrated a few times. You took another sip from the bottle. You sat up pulling your hair out of your face and over your shoulders. Pulling your knees up to your chest you rested your arms around them. You closed your eyes taking in the warmth of the room. A few minutes went by that you sat like that. You almost believed you could have fell asleep in that momentary peacefulness. Your phone went off again, much more urgently this time. A call was coming through but you had no will or desire to figure out who it was coming from. Instead you took the bottle your lips and finished off the drink.

The last half hour of your bath you stared off into the wall. Your sadness weighed so heavy in your chest, you could feel it in the very back of your throat. You ran out of the energy to cry, you couldn’t feel enough at one time to really let it all out. So you sat there as the water began to drain and you basked in the pain, finally being able to stop ignoring how you felt. You couldnt decide if you’d like more how you felt when you cast your feelings away or when you let them over take you. You sat in the bath until all the water dried off your body and only stayed dripping at the end of your hair. Your music had turned off long ago, but you only realized as you listened to the drain drinking up the water that fell from the leaky faucet.

Somehow you got up and made your way to the liquor cabinet. Taking out another bottle you roamed your house in your robe. Your hair dripping on your back trailing your aimless steps for no one in particular to follow. You ended up perched on the windowsill in your bedroom. You had one leg dangling off the side and the other bent in front of you. You looked out to the city drinking once more and you felt you were too small in the scheme of life to have such an overpowering sadness.

Your alarm clock told you it was after three but you still went to your closet to throw on a jumper and some leggings. The one you picked was over sized and faded, it slipped from your shoulder. You tied your hair up in a lazy ponytail and grabbed your bag. You walked out of your flat holding your keys and the new bottle. You knew you were going to regret going out, but you decided that even for a little while you wanted to stop feeling.

Sherlock was shocked to hear you stomping up the stairs a little while later. While your movements were loud and uncoordinated you said nothing. He studied you, seeing how your hair was still damp and your bag hung loosely on your shoulder. While your hands were both empty he could smell the alcohol on you. You seemingly had been drinking quite a lot upon your arrival. It was now after four and neither of you had slept.

“You’re drunk.” Sherlock stated as he watched you from his spot lounging on the couch. You smiled taking a deep breath. “I dunno why everyone thinks you’re a genius, I believe that’s quite obvious.” You said crudely. While you knew to be wary because he was mad at you, you couldn’t help but let a little of your own anger saunter through. “I’d figure the walk would’ve sobered you up a bit. You must have been drinking a lot to still be so affected.” Sherlock rewet his lips with his tongue quickly, almost sticking it out at you. “Well maybe I was drinking the whole way here to make sure I didn’t sober up.” You responded throwing your bag onto the floor.

You turned around and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’ll do it Sherlock.” He raised an eyebrow at you turning what you said over in his mind. “You’re only agreeing because you’re drunk.”

“This is the only way you’re going to get me to do it. We both need this for very different reasons.” You argued balling your hands into fists. “I’m giving you what you want.”

Sherlock stood from the couch walking into the kitchen. You noticed he hadn’t changed since the last time you saw him. He came back with a little box motioning you to come over to the table in the middle of the room. You knelt down besides it and rolled your sleeves up, letting him dose you with whatever drug he needed you to be on. “I adjusted the amount to account for your previous intoxication. It will only take a few minutes for you to feel this. If anything feels wrong let me know.” He packed up everything and disappeared into the kitchen.

You got up and sunk into his spot on the couch. Part of you felt disgusted at yourself. You split into the traitor and the victim inside. You crossed your legs, looking down at your lap. You picked at the loose skin on your fingers with your nails. Sherlock watched from his spot in the kitchen. He was pretending not to look at you, but he couldn’t take his eyes away. He was watching you as the test subject and as his best friend. When he looked at you in the perspective of the experiment you were internalizing all of the effects, obviously causing you to be drowsy and slow with your movements. You bit your lip roughly and stayed adamant about twiddling your fingers. It was becoming increasingly hard for you to focus on what you were doing. Seeing you as his best friend, he watched as you fought a war inside your head silently. You only came here to try to sign the treaty of peace with yourself.

You woke up to your limbs feeling heavy and your thoughts swimming in your brain. John stood across the room from you watching you as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. It was cloudy outside, giving the room an eerie coldness. “Seems like you found out huh?” You asked weakly moving your legs off the couch so you could sit up. Your stomach lurched sending you standing upright much too fast and rushing to the bathroom. John came along helping you on your way. He held your hair as you threw up in the toilet, shaking and coughing. Tears ran down your face as you kneeled over the bowl. Your throat was sore and your stomach pumped itself repeatedly until you were only spitting the taste out of your mouth.

You pulled yourself back as John flushed everything away. You rested your back on the wall besides you. You were shaking and your breathing was erratic. “I can’t believe he made you fucking do this.” John said harshly. “I asked him to.” You said lowly looking at the floor besides you. “You were pissed drunk and didn’t even know what you were doing. He took advantage of that just to get what he wanted.” John was flushed with anger. You shook your head at him reaching out with your hand. “I wanted this, I didn’t want to feel anymore.” You had only started to defend Sherlock when you felt the bile rush up your throat once more. John stayed with you a while, rubbing your back and comforting you. He stayed beside you when you pressed your hot face to the bathroom floor and cried for mercy to your body. “There’s nothing left in me. Please stop.”

You continued to cry even when your stomach settled, repeating the same lines over and over again. Wishing to have mercy from your mind that wouldn’t let you live down the fact that even as John sat inches away you had no one that really cared about you. John’s heart broke as he watched you fall apart on the floor, not knowing how much you were unraveling beneath him. And as Sherlock was heard coming back into the apartment John rose to meet him and blame him for all of your distress. Sherlock was too happy about his results to mind John’s harsh words. However he did come to see you in the bathroom and sat a few feet away.

John slammed the door on the way out, signaling that you were alone. Sherlock watched you crying, face pressed into the floor wondering what was going through your mind. “Are you okay?” He asked swallowing a lump in his throat. You didn’t answer at first knowing your voice would betray you. In a shaky breath you whispered out a simple, “No.” You met eyes with him, feeling hollow inside. “I’m not alright at all.”

—

You had pulled Sherlock out of drug houses many times over the last few years, never did you imagine you’d be in one without him.

It didnt take much for you to find his contacts in his apartment. You also knew he’d never expect you to look for them, never mind seek a particular one out. However you should have expected his contact to call him after you met but for some reason you didnt. You had been running back and forth from your flat to the dealers for a week. You took a leave off of work originally, but quit a few days following. The drugs had made it easier to let go and stop caring about things you knew that mattered. You let your phone die a couple of days ago, and when John appeared at your door you pretended that you weren’t home.

It was two weeks since you’ve been to Sherlock’s apartment and three since the night you first started the drugs. John came by twice once on his own and once with Lestrade. You heard him outside the door insisting something was wrong, but Lestrade couldn’t force his way in if there was seemingly nothing going on.

You had shot up about an hour ago and you were still riding out your high. You sat on the floor in your living room pushing your dinner around the plate. You heard people walking past your door occasionally and when two voices stopped in front of it you wrote it off as being the neighbors. Your TV was much too loud for you to notice the voices were John and Sherlock. You were also much to high to realize that the clicking you were hearing was the lock of your front door being picked.

It was only when the door burst open with a loud bang that you realized you weren’t getting out of this. Sherlock and John stood outside the door, one shocked to see you standing there and the other unimpressed. You stood quickly, accidentally sending your dinner onto the rug. Your breathing became quick and heavy as you back away from them. “What are you doing here?” You panicked looking around the room frantically. You moved to the couch, picking a pillow up and throwing it at them. “Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You screamed launching more at them. John stepped back horrified as angry tears streamed down your face. You marched to the door. “I dont want you here. Either of you! Did you not get the hint when I shut myself in here?” You yelled straight in Sherlock’s face trying hard to control your breathing. He stood still, not flinching at your words or your volume. “You get the fuck out of here!” You screamed again pushing him backwards with all of your strength. “I just want to be alone and-” “Get high.” Sherlock interrupted. “Ignore everything.” You finished. From over his shoulder you could see John looking at you in disbelief. “You’re fucking high? That’s what you’ve been doing holed up in here?” The mix of anger and annoyance in his tone hit you hard.

“No.” You said, the same time as Sherlock said “Yes.”

“I am not getting high.” You defended. Sherlock grabbed your arm and pulled you further into the apartment. John following behind and shutting the door. When he turned around Sherlock grabbed your arm and showed it to him. Multiple puffy needle marks riddled the inside of your arm. You stayed quiet but roughly pulled your arm from his fingers. “Where is all of it?” Sherlock snapped. “Find it yourself.” You spit back crossing your arms over your chest. With that the two men disappeared into your flat until they returned with all the drugs you had.

John tried his best to remain calm but ended up yelling a long lecture in your face until he realized it was no good and saw himself out. Sherlock said nothing. He simply stood across the room from you and retrieved the pillows from the floor. He grabbed a waste basket and threw the bags of drugs in there along with the few needles you had. He fetched a lighter from your kitchen and you watched the only thing that ever made the pain stop burn into nothing.

You didn’t have any tears to cry and you searched for the words to say. You sunk to the floor in your place and stared at the trash defeated. Sherlock broke the silence. “Why did you do this?” You didn’t answer him instead you asked, “Why did you do that?” Your voice cracked at the end.

Sherlock cleared his throat looking around the room. “This is very selfish of you.” You looked at him in disbelief. “Says you! I was the one who sat around and took care of your pathetic ass while you were higher than Mount Everest.”

He bit his lip sighing frustratedly. “Everyone thought you were okay.” You started to stand, “Oh so just because it’s what everyone thinks then it’s right yeah?” You threw you hands up mockingly. “So tell me Sherlock, when do I get to not be okay? When are people going to start being there for me?” You yelled feeling your eyes start to get glassy and you were tripping on the words as to they came out of your mouth. Sherlock hesitated looking around the room in guilt. While he thought of what to say you continued. “I’m always there for everyone else, always putting people before me.” Your voice stayed strong but tears spilled over onto your cheeks. You made your way closer to him wiping your cheek with the heel of your palm. “I’m always taking care of people and no one ever takes care of me.”

Sherlock felt his heart grow heavier as he watched you stand before him broken and vulnerable. He wanted to cheer you up and bring you back to your normal self. However a part of him felt like you’d turn to the drugs to hide these feelings because he never paid attention to them before. “I never knew that you needed someone like this (y/n).” Sherlock rested his hand on your shoulder. “I tried to make it obvious, I tried to let it show hoping somebody would notice. But no body did, not one of you. Not even when I said it straight to your face.” You spit back looking away from him.

Sherlock started to feel desperate to convince you this wasnt the way to handle your feelings. Although before he made you feel like you had no other option and he didn’t try to find other ways to help. “This isnt what you should do (y/n).” Sherlock said, his voice cracked on your name. “You do the same thing. I was just trying to forget how useless I am.” You spoke slowly looking down at your fingers pulling at the hem of your t-shirt. “You’re not useless to me, you’re my best friend.” He pleaded putting his hand on your cheek to try to get you to look at him. “That’s where you’re wrong. I am useless, you’re just one of the few who’s ever admitted it.” As you finished Sherlock felt himself shatter into a million pieces as he recalled what he said to you those few weeks ago.

“I lost the only person who ever listened to me. I never got to say goodbye and now I never get to let things out. I keep trying to open up and you shut me down.” You were becoming hysterical furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I will listen (y/n) I promise. I care about you. I lost Mary too, I don’t want to be the reason I lose another friend.” Sherlock insisted.

“Then start treating me like one.”

TAGS : @oneshotsdeanshort

[grizzlyys]

i suddenly imagine what if x1 went to haunted house😭😭 let me write it down

you might thing dongpyo is the one who the most scared to enter the house. well u not wrong, but there might be 1 or 2 people who do the same thing as dongpyo.

leader swoo might be scared but he trying to hide it coz he's the older and quitely run the mission and running away from the house.

syoun will overproud abt himself and telling the others that he never get scared of ghosts. but the moment he entered the house, he screaming as he met the ghosts. then he trying to finished the mission with trembling hands. after finished the mission he running away and acting cool like nothing happened.

wooseok will pass the house quickly even he scared. he got suprised easily and screaming whenever the ghosts popped out. he might laughing at himself after screaming then he continue to found the clue and finished the mission. and he might said goodbye to the ghosts then acting cool like syoun did

yohan probably apologizing as soon he entered the room. and he get suprised when he hear something. as i said before he keep apologizing to the ghosts and giggle to himself. he also gonna said "this is really scary" "omg what should i do" he finished the mission and laughing at himself when he came out from the house

hangyul will finish the mission ASAP cause he didnt scared of the ghosts. he probably gonna said "aishh you suprised me" "aishh what is this" when he met the ghosts he'll said "im sorry, let me take this key" "did you know how to finish the mission?" "please help me" yea he talkative. thats why he passed the mission

ITS 02 TIMEE

before entering the house junho will checked the flashlight then he waving at the camera in front of the gate. well junho kinda person who will finished the mission well. he might be suprised little and he probably gonna ignore the ghosts and finished the mission. all members who watching junho will protest and laughing at the ghosts.

next, we have dongpyo who obviously afraid of the haunted house. before starting he even asked the staff is this necessary to do or no. and he begging to the staff that he doesnt want to enter but he keep enter the house. as he entering the room he probably gonna shouting bcs he got suprised and as soon the ghosts appeared he will screaming and apologizing. with tramble hands he looking for the clues and finishing the mission. 2nd time he met the ghosts he will tease the ghosts and said "im not scared any more" but he running away

minhee is unbothered king who probably relaxed as soon he entered the house. he might be suprised but he just said "oh" as soon he met the ghosts he will greeting politely and continue looking for the clues. and he pass the ghosts quitely and finish the mission.

eunsang is typical a soft boy who rarely screaming. when he entered the house he might walking slowly and get suprised when he heard strange voices. he'll done the samething as minhee did when he met the ghosts then smiling brightly. he finished the mission and waving at the ghosts before leaving the house. and he said to the members that he didnt scared at all then dongpyo will said "you're great. im really scared i thought im gonna collapsed"

"hwaiting" is the first word that hyeongjun said before he entered the house. he looking at the staff for a while then he entering the house. he gonna said hello politely and walking slowly through the house and suddenly screaming when the ghost appeared. he might crying as soon the second ghosts appearing. he looking for the clues while whining and screaming as soon the ghosts approach him. when he finished the mission he walking out from the house while crying. then wooseok hugged him and comfort him so he wont crying anymore.

the last one is OUR MAKNAEEE

as we known dohyon get scared easily. before he entering the house he begging to the staff and asking if he gonna be okay inside the house. after that he entering the room slowly and make sure that ghosts didnt appear. all hyung line wathing with daddy smile. when dohyon already inside the house suddenly the ghosts appeard then dohyon dolphin's scream out. he apologizing then screaming whenever the ghosts move. when he tried looking for the clue dohyon dolphin's scream suddenly out because 2nd ghosts appeard. he starting apologizing then running away without finishing the mission cause he cant take it anymore. syoun probably gonna hug him, patting his butt, and babying dohyon as soon dohyon came.

all of this are pure mine. we probably gonna get this content if x1 didnt getting d*world.

end of this blogs, gut baiii.

lets pray we'll have good news tomorrow💙

[blenheimapricot1999]

heres a story abt 20 minutes ago when i didnt use my brain before talking and now i want 2 die even more than i previously did. so my boyfriend was over we were Having A Good Time. and my mom gets home early and shes. not super pleased. shes not mad but shes not pleased either. she makes fun of us for like 15 minutes until my boyfriend gets uncomfy and just. leaves. so my mom keeps making fun of me for quite some time. its very mortifying and terrible. but then she stops and we go online to research a/cs bc ours broke a few days ago and its 85 degrees and so like10 minutes later she looks me dead in the face and im like no i dont want 2 make eye contact. and she goes, "so i guess you know whats coming" and me, idiot me who has no brain and says things impulsively and who wants to fuckin, DIE, goes, "not me i guess" and then we both sat there. fucking shocked that those words just exited my mouth. 

shes like. what did u say. 

and im like. what did i say.

 and shes like actually i was going to tell u to make sure to use protection. 

and im like. i know. 

and shes like. good. 

and im like. i cant believe i said that. 

and she said. yeah i cant believe u said that either. 

and now i want 2 fucking die i would literally rather b anywhere but here. but i have 2 help her cut fruit for a party tomorrow. so i cant even just leave. im just here. with those words floating around the apartment. haunting me

[rznjun]

13, 14, 17, 33 (i really want to know too aksjsj👀, 26, 43, 62, 69 (i think i already know the answer but aksjsj😈), 83, 92, 113, 141, 153, 159, 167 these are a lot good luck bub aksjs💕

shdhjsfgsd i guess its only fair you ask me so many too i love you lina 💕💕💕

send me some numbers?

 13. When did you fall in love for the first time:tbh im not sure if ive ever fallen in love up till now??? i totally thought i was in love with the girl i liked but when i got into a relationship with her every feeling just vanished so ?? ??? idk im still waiting for it to happen jsjdhjs

14. Who Is Your Longest Friend & How Long:probably my sister [is that sad] apparently she hated me at first but after i turned 1 she got used to me and i rly think ive been friends the longest with her lol

17. When was the last time you laughed hard:i think it was last thursday bcs my mom and my sister and i went to an amusement park and we had so much fun my mom always makes the weirdest sounds in attractions sdhjshfjdsf

33. What is the most embarrassing thing you have done drunk?hfdjshfj this revenge,,,,,, ,,anyway like i said ive luckily never thrown up but im a very affectionate drunk [st op me] but like the first time i went out i slept over at a friend’s and we ended up spooning and i kept kissing her back WHICH WAS SUPER AWKWARD FOR HER but i thought i was being extremely cute and she still wont let it go to this day pls send help

26. Is your ideal occupation?occupation as in job? bcs i have absolutely no clue as to what i want to do later :/ id love to do smth creative or to do with the arts but thats rly tough so i honestly dont know :(((

43. Favorite movie?this question will forever haunt me??? idk ive never been able to pick a favorite movie,,,i mean i like the lotr series and captain america: the winter soldier was really good but favorite?? ehhhhh??????

62. If money were no concern, what would you do for the rest of your life?id drop out of school immediately and travel the world and paint and draw and design and just live the life i want to have omg

69. Would you rather be in a relationship with a totally submissive partner or a totally dominant partner?dhsajhd im pretty certain you guessed right bcs im going for the dominant partner lmao although i dont want them to be totally dominant [in bed is fine tho sdsjfsddsfdg] in normal life we’d have to be of equal standing!!!

83. Describe the last dream you remember: i always have rly stupid and boring dreams jsjhsd i only dreamt that i just woke up and had a normal vacation day and then i had to work and then i woke up in my dream and i thought i had to do my whole day over again but then i actually woke up in real life and i realised i didnt have to work dsjfhdjhfskf

92. Do you smoke cigarettes or cigars? What about marijuana? ive never smoked cigarettes or cigars and definitely dont plan to ugh smoking is gross but i have smoked a joint once [i also had space cake that was WILD] anyway the joint made me feel a lil funny but it mostly made me cough and wasnt worth the throat ache lol

113. If you had to move to a state or country besides the one you currently live in, where would you move and why?ahh this is so difficult! i think i would like to move to a place like sweden maybe? or korea lets be real dsjd

141. What are you like when you’re drunk? like i said im so affectionate it could get annoying dshdfhs i always confess my love to anyone and im just overall in a good and happy mood so id say im a fun drunk to be around, esp if you dont mind me kissing and hugging you jsjdjsjd

153. What is your biggest goal in life?to be happy i think,,,,, that sounds so sad sdgsjhd but id just like to have enough money to travel where i want and maybe one day settle down [w/ a girlfriend pls]

159. Describe your dream girl/guy?alright so my dream gal would really have to be someone i can laugh with! laughing is one of the most important things in my life so thatd come first and she’d have to be a bit pragmatic and like,,,, not talk abt our love as if its never ending and stuff??? like im too much of a capricorn to believe in ‘true love’ or ‘the one’ hdshjd but i guess if she can get me to believe in it thatd be great too!!! also calm and collected when it comes to approaching difficult subjects but she totally needs to know how to have a good time too jsjdds anway im a pragmatic bitch with standards that are way too high so im never gonna get a gf either way lmao

167. Favorite fictional character (movie, book, tv show)? AHH DIFFICULT omg i dont know? okay i LOVE olivier armstrong from fma brotherhood but thats bcs im just super gay for her,,,,,,,,also lance from voltron bcs i relate to the boy so much! he’s just a sad gay who needs some lovin :’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’(((((((((( yeah i guess those two sdsjf im probably gonna think abt this again and come up with some better answer lol

[virginia-werewoolf]

Hi hello its a saturday night and i was thinking that i cant remember the last time that i just kinda sat down and talked to someone, like had a really good talk with them abt all the crazy stuff goin on in my mind not just like at this moment but just my thoughts abt life and relationships and art and it makes me sad cause its such a good feeling doing that and i feel like it rarely happens

Anyways ive been thinkin on my last relationship for the last couple days and what a strange one it was, basically he started talking to me a couple of months after i had gotten broken up with by a guy i dated for 2 years - something that really really tore me up as im sure everyone around me at the time knew. We had broken up in February, i found out that he had been cheating on me since December in March, and Ian had started talking to me in April. He was honestly such a distraction from that whole situation - so so so fun and spontaneous and just… so easy to talk to. He really did make me happy in the purest of ways - something that with Jarod had felt so… serious? But with Ian, it was so light and sweet and just warm. We spent the whole summer together in this sort of daze minus the week or two that he spent not talking to me because he was upset with me for not wanting anything serious. I wouldnt say those couple of weeks were hard to get through per say - but we just couldnt really stay away from each other and always ended up back together because, well, he was my best friend. To end the summer we took a day trip to the beach which was incredible but i remember that morning he asked me to be his girlfriend for the day and i was feelin cheeky so i said that yes, i would be - and that i might not even break up with him at the end of the day and “trap him”. That last part was obviously a joke but the first part really wasnt and I knew that. I didnt end up breaking up with him that day but then about a month later this boy that I had always thought was the most beautiful boy that I had ever seen started talking to me again after dropping me after talking for like a month after I found at that Jarod had cheated on me - probably just a few days before Ian and I started talking - messaged me. I had honestly been holdin on hope for this boy since then just because I really did think he was gorgeous - i was so so so infatuated with him (like if im being honest with myself i still think hes the most beautiful boy ive ever seen) and he just seemed so… my type, i guess. I just pushed it aside though cause Ian was so precious and so good to me while he, well, wasn’t. But i did end up going on a date with this kid - his name was Sammy - and kissed him lots. Which I know was so fucked up. I basically played it off to Ian by saying that what I had said that day we went to the beach was just a joke and that I would seriously be his girlfriend now. But i think i always knew in the back of my mind that if Sammy asked me to be his girlfriend I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. But he didnt - and despite the horrible arguments that arose from the obvious insecurities this caused in Ian - we were ok for a while. We dated from like the end of September until the end of January. I tried to have a good break up with him but it didnt work, of course. I ended up blaming it on his insecurities which I knew wouldn’t be NEARLY as prominent if I hadn’t done that. But he was also holding grudges against me for going on a couple of dates with my friend Josh during the summer when he was upset with me as well as just talking about boys in general over the summer when i had NO responsibility not to, you know? I know we were a thing but he KNEW i wasn’t ready for a relationship - he knew how important he was to me and basically used that to force me into a relationship with him. I was so attached to him because he came into my life in one of the two times in my life where I was feeling so so so incredibly depressed and he used that to get me to date him when he KNEW i needed my space to be free to do what I want and not have to stress about a relationship (because lemme tell you - that 2 year relationship with Jarod was 100% DRAINING). And that was a lot of the reason, yes - these arguments had started happening more and more often and I was so incredibly stressed in December and January that I just… couldnt have that anymore. He would even get mad at me and drop our plans completely for asking to go to coffee with him so I could do homework instead of actually going out and doing something - which sucked so much because I really did want to spent time with him no matter where we were and he obviously didnt. PLUS he was so horribly sexist - he even got mad at me for posting a picture where you could see my SHOULDERS ???? But thats besides the point. What really haunts me I guess is the nature of our break up - he got so hostile so quickly. I told him that I wanted to take a break from each other and see how we felt about each other once school was over and he IMMEDIATELY took that as me wanting to go suck other guys dicks???? And I eventually got upset as well and said such terrible things to him, as well. I told him how I only liked having sex with him in the dark because I hated having to look at him (which wasn’t entirely true - but I will admit that I was never as attracted to him as I should’ve been. The first few times we had sex I really was not attracted to him at all but of course as time went on and I grew softer feelings towards him that attraction to him did grow) and that this guy who he had suspected i liked had way better music and passion for music than he did. I know both of those must’ve hurt and I probably shouldn’t have said that - I especially don’t think it was right of me to say he wasn’t as good at what he, too is passionate about or that he didnt feel as strongly toward it. I know its not right to compare art like that. But besides that he was right. I DID have some feelings for that boy. I liked talking to him and being around him and his music and his voice and just thought he was so smart and sweet and perfectly quirky. And he was cute. It wasn’t anything serious, but I didnt feel like I should be feeling that way towards another person if I was with Ian. Everyone deserves someone whos all about them. And I feel like these feelings towards that boy kinda just reminded me that i do need time for myself out of a relationship. Ive BEEN needing it since last February and kinda denied myself it the second I thought about losing Ian, who was so honestly my rock. But Ian shouldnt have put me in that sort of ultimatum to begin with. Not if he cared about me as a person and not just a potential love interest. So yes i do miss him sometimes. He was my best friend, after all! But i dont really miss him as a boyfriend. I really only liked the way he made me feel in that respect - not just as a boyfriend, if you will. And i shouldve. So I know I did the right thing. I really do know I did the right thing. And i know ill be okay. Ill be graduating soon and everything will be okay.