#i can stand behind all of these choices i can defend them w my life

[eventually--darling]

What are your favorite kdramas?

just between lovers, misaeng, white christmas, school 2013, bad and crazy, flower of evil, youth of may, the red sleeve. 😌

[aerynwrites]

Pretend

Jayvik (Divorce Era)

A/N: had this idea while lying in bed - had to get it out lol. Hope y’all enjoy this angsty drabble.

Word count: 681

Warnings: divorce era Jayvik | hurt/no comfort, angst | Jayce regrets his choices | but there’s nothing he can do | civil conversation b/w machine herald!Viktor and Jayce.

The steady sound of water meeting the rocks several stories below is the loudest thing around Jayce. It’s what he wanted, really.

Quiet.

At least as quiet as you can get between Piltover and Zaun. Despite the sun having set hours ago, fading golden light giving way to cool darkness…life is still moving.

Yet his life feels like it’s at a stand still.

This place is familiar. The smooth stone archway holds too many memories to count - good and bad alike.

He tries to focus on the good - even as the all too familiar footsteps approach from behind.

After all these years, even after all the changes he went through - they both went though…he can still tell it’s him. He doesn’t even have to look to his right to know it’s him.

The Machine Herald. His old partner. His old lover. Viktor.

Jayce doesn’t say anything as the man from his past settles on the ledge beside him, a few feet of distance separating them still. It seems like distance is the only thing they share now.

Most people would call him foolish for leaving his hammer cast aside behind him, the hex crystal removed to lay in his palm instead. The faint blue light rises from between his fingers, and he can’t even find it in him to be awed by the magic anymore.

After all, magic has been his undoing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

The name feels foreign on his tongue, but the syllables roll past his lips flawlessly despite not being used in years. Not since he sent him away.

The name must catch its owner off guard as well, the metal man flinching slightly. Part of Jayce wishes he’d take the mask off, just this once.

As if he hears his thoughts, Viktor does just that, the faint metal clicking the only indication that he moves at all.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The shudder that runs through Jayce is violent, his shoulders shaking visibly as the accented voice he didn’t realize he’d missed so much meets his ears. Unfiltered, not modulated or muffled my metal.

It’s really him.

Finally, Jayce cautions a glance at the man he’s been running from all these years. Finally, looks his greatest mistake in the eyes. Golden eyes that pierce through him.

“I’m…I’m tired, V.” The words come out broken and soft, the old nickname slipping past his lips unintentionally.

But this time Viktor doesn’t flinch. He just watches as the Defender of Tomorrow sags in on himself and he is suddenly cast back decades - to the day he met the man before him.

“Tired of what, Jayce?”

His name, spoken so gently with no trace of the malice he deserves, breaks him. The tears come in a silent torrent and, despite yearning for it, Viktor offers no comfort - just studies him with those piercing eyes.

“Everything.” The word is spoken through tears, and Jayce can’t find it in him to stop. “The council, Hextech, the arcane, being the face of Piltover, fighting you.” He takes a deep breath. “Most of all I’m tired of…of regretting the worst decision I made in my entire life.”

His eyes meet Viktors then, and he can tell when understanding seeps into the other man’s bones.

Neither of them speak for a long time. Jayce’s confession hangs heavy in the air for what feels like hours as the both look over the skyline until Viktor finally speaks.

“I’m tired too.” He finally admits, shrugging his shoulder slightly, the claw above him twitching with the movement. “But you should not dwell on the past, or tire yourself with…regret.” Viktor sighs, twisting the staff in his lap.

“What’s done is done.”

His words are final, leaving no room for response or argument - no room for Jayce to try and fix things like he so desperately wants too.

Instead Jayce turns his eyes back towards the night sky, the light from the city drowning out the stars.

Tomorrow they’ll be enemies again. But for tonight…

Maybe just for tonight, Jayce can pretend they’re not.

[plan-d-to-i]

What's your opinion on JYL and JFM? I've seen a few say they were just as bad to WWX for not doing much to defend him, especially against Madam Yu, or like when JYL apologized to the Jins on his behalf.

I think the novel doesn't mean them to be seen as bad people just weak. I think I'm more defensive of JFM because fandom is really hard on him, while he was stuck in a terrible situation himself with his wife. The only way you can come out on top w YZY is to never fucking interact w her. To never marry her in the first place ideally. And he tried!

He didn’t like Yu ZiYuan’s conduct and felt that the two wouldn’t be an appropriate match. He had politely refused the offer a handful of times. However, the MeishanYu Sect set about multiple factors, putting pressure on Jiang FengMian, who was at the time still fairly young and had nothing to lean on. Along with the fact that, not long later, ZangSe SanRen had become cultivation partners with the most loyal servant at Jiang FengMian’s side, Wei ChangZe, and rode off into the sunset, roaming around the world, Jiang FengMian finally gave up.

Meishan Yu literally schemed behind the scenes to force JFM to marry this bitch so rip JFM you really pulled the short straw in life. Once he married she's not the type of person he can tell what to do.

Madam Yu, “What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I’m also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? (Chapter 56)

Much like how JGS can't stop Madam Jin from beating the shit out of JGY... JFM tries to end WWX's punishments early, but he's doesn't seem capable of banning YZY from punishing him entirely. Although JFM is kind to WWX I don't see any favoritism. Correcting jc's behavior when it's wrong is not in fact showing favoritism towards WWX. & ultimately as WWX concludes later on regarding the Wen sibs:

Just as Wen Qing said, if Wen Chao truly wanted to kill anyone, it was unlikely for Wen Qing to be able to stop him. Perhaps she’d be affected as well. After all, children of others could never compare to children of one’s own.” (Chapter 60)

No matter how much he likes WWX, WWX is not his own son. JFM's last interaction with WWX is to ask him to care for jc.

As for YanLi I wrote about her more at length here. I think a lot of ppl in this fandom project really hard on her, so they get very defensive over what is a kindly but mediocre person who benefits from a heaping helping of privilege and WWX's rosy view. To be clear I don't think you're supposed to hate her in the novel. I think she's forgettable. The person who didn't quite catch WWX when he jumped from the tree. The mother of Jin Ling and the person who consistently showed WWX some crumbs of warmth in the Jiang household.

It's this fandom that made her into a soup goddess of goodness lmao. Personally I think it's absurd when they act like YanLi's not responsible for her own ignorance or choices. Like someone locked her in the attic and she didn't know what money or war refugees were. They try to blame the society she was raised in for why her ass only knew how to make soup and it's like... Her mother is YZY. Can't stand YZY but there's no way in hell she wanted her daughter making soup and not training or educating herself. Or that JFM was tyrannical and wouldn't let her do what she wanted. All this to say it's YanLi's own flipping choice to stay not knowing. So she'll always fall short in my eyes, compared to Wen Qing or Mianmian. And again people act like she was so helpless and no one would let her speak, yet:

“Jin ZiXun’s face was dark, but he didn’t respond. There were two reasons. First, he had never seen Jiang YanLi step up and talk before, so he didn’t know how strong his reply should be. Both Madam Jin and Jiang Cheng held Jiang YanLi in high regard, and he didn’t dare rashly go against them." (Chapter 73)

“The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.” (Chapter 73)

“If the one currently saying these words wasn’t Jiang YanLi and instead some random person, Jin ZiXun would probably have come at them with a slap already. His face was almost black, but he kept his mouth shut.” (Chapter 73)

Ahhhh... look at all that privilege. No one reprimands YanLi for speaking up. Sharp fucking contrast to Mianmian. YanLi just doesn't want to speak up. She wants her wedding to go off without a hitch. She wants WWX to exclaim over her pretty dress and play nice with jiang cheng and probably stop w his foolishness w the Wen Remnants. Ig she thinks the mental image of her in her wedding dress will be much more filling than meals or funds. Ironically when jc, WWX & the other disciples were headed to the Wen indoctrination camp she loaded them w snacks, so maybe she gets how supplies work. She just didn't think WWX would need any when he was possibly starving on the corpse filled mountain.

Jiang YanLi saw them off, staying with them road after road. She filled everyone’s arms with all sorts of snacks, afraid that they’d starve at the QishanWen Sect. Clothes brimming with food, the twenty boys set off from Lotus Pier. (Chapter 51).

guess she's not sheltered enough to not understand how starving works... interesting. Luckily it's not my eyes she's being judged through and WWX certainly remembers her fondly. However he's not wracked with guilt about her death as fandom often portrays him- and rightly so bc it was her own harebrained ass that stumbled on a battlefield unarmed, and untrained and asked the guy everyone was attacking to stop fighting.

[nightfall-kachiniko]

Hey! I really liked your Annie angst where she hits the reader and wanted to request one where it's the same idea but just with Mikasa? Thanks a lot!

HAHA YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!

“A broken promise ” Mikasa x Reader. || Chapter 1. Oᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ!

this contains spoilers for the manga of AOT. || rumbling spoilers ahead||

You walked into your both’s shared bedroom to find Mikasa staring at herself in the mirror, her eyes sad as she looking down at her feet as she laid against the mirror. Her back faced you. Your arms crept around her waist, hugging her strong body as you cuddled you head into the back of her shoulder. “Please.. come back to me..” you softly whispered for the both of you to hear. “Your so distant yet… so close..” you hugged her tighter as you embraced her presence.

Mikasa pushed you off of her after a while, and started to walk out of the room. “You make me sick.”

Hours passed since your encounter with your girlfriend.

You couldn’t stand just letting this happen. Your relationship was slowly but surely being torn apart, weather or not mikasa was realizing it or not. Could she not care about you anymore? Her attitude changed Jurassic-ally ever since Eren told Her he hated her, which to your dismay you turned your back on him, saying that Mikasa deserved better.

You finally built up the courage to talk to her directly, as you made your way through the airship, coming out of your dorm. The common area was a wide open space, couches and a new thing from Marley that had just been discovered by the people of paradis, something called a “television.”

You turned your way to the room next to it, a small conference room. The room was long with a small glass table, a bookshelf, and a fireplace with couches. The woman stood at the bookshelf’s in the back of the room, looking at one of them.

“This has been going on for way to long,” you said to the raven haired woman, her gaze now looking at you with her eyes stern. “What happened to you?” All she could do was roll her eyes, not saying a word. “I know how attached you are to him, and I don’t want that to happen either, but I’m just saying, it’s a possible outcom-“

“No it isn’t,”

She said fiercely. “Mikasa , you have to accept the fact eren has changed,” “No he hasn’t!” Her voice got louder, to your surprise. “You act as though you knew him for your whole life, he will stop this rumbling,”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“He will,”

“Your in denial”

“Maybe I’m so in denial because all you’ve done is try to bring me down for these past few weeks!” Your girlfriend yelled, “All you’ve done is hate on Eren all this damn time!”

“Mikasa are you fucking NUTS?! HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU HE HATED YOU!”

“He doesn’t mean that,”

“Are you sure mikasa? Think about everything he’s done to you.” There was a pause before you added, “think about everything he’s done to us,”

Mikasa shut the book closed, tossing it on a nearby table.

“Shut up,”

She gritted her teeth at you before pitching the bridge of her nose.

“What happened to you?” You asked her sadly,

“Absolutely nothing,”

“Everything changed,”

“NOTHING ABOUT ME CHANGED!” Mikasa screamed at you, pounding her fist on the wall. “Mikasa .. listen to yourself! You used to never be like this! You were so sweet and caring, and then Eren changed, and so did you.”

She went quiet, an irritated look on her face. The Airship you and the rest of the cadets were on, soared through the air. The thing they call ‘a flying boat’ letting off steam as it flew. Towards Marley you headed, where the rumbling was occurring. Eren had already planned this whole ideal out behind the Survey Corps backs, his mean demeanor changing the person who you barley can recognize, you girlfriend.

“You never used to yell at me the way you do now,” you said as her breathing got heavier with anger.

“We used to be inseparable, now look at us. Ever since the rumbling started and Eren actually going through with his plan, you slowly started drifting away from me. And at first I understood why.”

She looked at you, the woman’s eyes still as stern as they could ever be, giving you a violent but silent glare.

“And then you became mean.. and aggressive.”

She started stepping towards you, her eyes bloodshot with anger, “you don’t understand because you never took the time to listen!,”

“All you did was push me away! Every time I tried to help! You treated me like your punching bag!” Your girlfriend moved towards you aggressively, making you hesitant to stay put. Your girlfriend looked at you dead in the eyes and for a slight moment, you swore you could see a tear forming. “I became aggressive? Yoru kidding me! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE THIS ISNT A SERIOUS SITUATION! I TRIED TO BE NICE FOR THE LONGEST TIME!

“You are NOT the same woman I feel in love with!” Your voice trailed into her ears. Your heart heavy as your words spilled out. “Oh yeah? Then maybe you weren’t in love with me at all.”

“Mikasa you know that isn’t true,”

“I tried protecting ALL OF YOU! AND LOOK WHERE WE END UP! SASHA’S DEAD! COMMANDER HANJI IS DEAD! “

“Yeah and the same person you’re defending is the cause of their deaths.”

“Eren wouldn’t do this.” She stated. Your head filled with irritation. ‘Why can’t she just accept it?!’

“Are you kidding me?! WAKE UP! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING AROUND YOU!?” you yelled, “EREN IS KILLING, HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE!” your voice cracked out. The pain that you bared because of your friends actions was one you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. No matter how many days would linger past, the fact that Eren, the boy who you once knew when he was running around playing tag with you and the rest of your group, is now a mass murderer.

“we don’t have to kill him-“

“MIKASA WE HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT HE’S DOING!? EREN IS JUST AS GUILTLY AS REINER AND BERTOLDT!”

“SHUT UP!” Her voice raised with irrational and anger. “YOU DON’T GET TO MAKE THAT DECISION!”

“You aren’t LISTENING! EVEN JEAN SAID THAT WOULD BE BEST! I DONT WANT TO KILL HIM BABY I REALLY DONT BUT WHAT ELSE CAN WE DO!”

“DAMNIT I SAID STOP!”

And just like that a loud crash noise was heard. The swift movement of a fist collided with the side of your face, the power containing it sending you falling back and into the glass coffee table behind you. You didn’t even realize what had just happened. You didn’t want to believe what just happened. You stared up at your girlfriend who’s face turned from anger to complete horror, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the damage she just caused. And boy was it bad.

The sting of redness on your face started to bleed droplets of blood. Soaking through your broken skin as a large red colored bruise begin to form. Tears started welting up in your e/c orbs. The sadness washed over you as you saw the woman who was suppose to love you, show an action of hatred that you never knew she could do. She hit you. She hurt you.

Heavy and frantic footsteps were heard rushing to the door of the conference room. The door swung open and there stood your best friend, Armin Artlert. “I-is everything okay!? I heard glad breaking!” He said, worried. His eyes looked around the room. The salty pieces of water flooded down your face as you choked on your tears.

Armin’s face went dead, he couldn’t believe it either. “Y-y/n.. baby.. oh g-god honey i-“ Mikasa couldn’t even form words. Hell SHEE couldn’t even believe she did that.

“W-wha-“ armin barley got out when you rushed to the door, pushing armin aside and ran back to your dorm room. “Y-y/n!” Armin tried calling out to you as your dorm slammed shut. You sinking to the floor crying.

Armin stared at Mikasa, “W-what happened?” His eyes saddened. “I..” Mikasa couldn’t get out any words, her face still in shock. “I hit them…” she managed to get out. “O-oh god I- I hit them,” her eyes filled tears as Armin pulled her into a hug. “I-I’m so sorry.. I-I’m so sorry…”

You laid on the floor after sinking down to the ground, slamming your door shut. Wiping your tears away with your hands, you looked at your both’s shared bedroom. Studying the interior. Thinking back on the time Mikasa promised you how she’d always be there for you, how she promised that she’d never hurt you. She promised when you both had your first kiss. She kept that promise and always kept it for so long, never once breaking it. Your numb body looked over at the ticking clock.

The thoughts that ran through your head as you watched the clock tick, and with every second you couldn’t bear to accept the fact, Her promise was broken.

Kachiniko || My Blog || What I write || 06/06/21

Chapter 2 “The conclusion”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[unsupervisedpanda]

Runaway assassin

Obi x reader

You'd been alone for a while, and by a while I mean years. You'd quit your old job, or rather you ran away from it. Now you were taking random jobs that were simple and spread out so you could travel. Get to see the world. 

  Thing was you were always moving because well your ex-boss was a total prick. You'd worked for him as an assassin of sorts. You enforced things, hurt people, did anything that he told you to.

  It's not that you enjoyed hurting others, but it kept you alive. You used to have a partner, but he had disappeared, leaving you, after going on a job with your sister, Torou.

  When she came back you rushed to her looking for him, but she just smiled sadly and told you he was gone. You'd missed him, but accepted that he made his choice.

   Currently however you followed his example and were free to do what you wanted, when you wanted. You'd left the man, that life, behind.

     With that in mind you had decided to visit Clarines. Beautiful place really. Many opportunities. Running around and rushing through the streets you darted over a wagon leaping down.

  As you landed you sprinted away apologizing to the driver. As you dashed through another alley you yelped when you bumped into someone, hard.

   As you both began to fall, you grabbed their arm and used your weight to counteract theirs, pulling yourself forward and spinning around. You smiled at your success, having stopped a tragic fall for both of you.

  "Hey, sorry about that I was just really excited!" You apologized glancing up, "I'm y/n!"

   The person you had almost had a spill with was a girl about your age. She smiled softly, her bright green eyes glittering, and apple red hair shining. You elected not to point out the obvious though. 

  "It's alright. I'm Shirayuki. You must be new here! I'd show you around but I have to get to the castle." She frowned seeming to be a little sad at that thought.

   "Well then here's a proposal. I'll go with you to the castle and help you out. Then we can talk and you can do what you need to. I'll be like your own personal attendant, yea?" You grinned pointing to yourself.

   "I mean... We could try it! Sure let's go." She smiled taking your hand and leading the way to the castle.

   On the walk she'd told you all about her friends and her love interest Zen, the second Prince of Clarines. You'd also been informed of her role in the castle. A herbalist. You got excited and told her that you were actually quite experienced with the plants and their properties given your old establishment.

   After a while you were in front of a set of gates, two guards stood at their post.

    "Shirayuki! Good to see you. Who's your friend?" One of the guards inquired staring behind her, to you. Taking charge you stepped forward, crouching into a curtsey.

  "I'm y/n! Her attendant. I'm here to help her out." You smiled sweetly, causing the other guard to blush.

  "I see. Well the prince is inside awaiting your arrival. Good day Shirayuki, y/n." The guard smiled as he opened the large gate.

  As you walked in you gasped. This place was huge! White pillars filled the courtyard and several plants and trees grew along the white stone that seemed to be a path.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Shirayuki giggled nudging you.

  "Absolutely." You breathed out, eyes wide as you took in your surroundings before turning to look at her.

    She grinned at you before waving you forward, encouraging you to follow her. Following closely you listened as Shirayuki told you about how she'd met the prince and his attendents, along with his most recent addition. Obi.

  You had heard the name and paused momentarily. She seemed to notice the slight shift in your behavior because she turned to face you.

  "Are you alright?" She asked tilting her head, her brows creasing in worry.

  Your mind raced as you mulled over the idea that it could be your Obi. It couldn't be him though, could it? Shaking your head you slapped your cheeks. It had to be someone else.

   "Of course! I'm sorry I just recognized the name is all. I'm totally fine!" You smiled grabbing her hand.

  "We should hurry! Don't wanna keep the prince waiting do we?" You winked and she flushed.

  "Right!"

   With that you both hurried off. Walking into the prince's quarters was nerve wracking. Not because you were scared or nervous because of him or anything, rather the idea that his attendant could be your Obi.

   Shirayuki knocked on the door and a muffled come in was called out. Pushing the door open she led you inside and began with the introductions.

  "Zen, Mistuhide, Kiki, Obi, this is y/n. Y/n this is Zen, Mistuhide, Kiki, and Obi." You glanced at each of them, but froze once you reached the tall brunette.

   Obi. It was actually your Obi. Once his cat like eyes reached yours he too froze.

  "Y/n? Are you alright?" Zen asked standing up, once he realized you seemed to be zoning out. Your eyes snapped over to him anxiously.

  "Of course! I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'm Y/n Woods, Shira's new attendent." You bowed giving the fake last name naturally.

   Obi's eyes widened slightly. You felt his gaze train on you as the other two began their own greeting. You smiled at them and told them a little about yourself.

    Once the introductions were finished Shirayuki dragged you off to work. Garak didn't seem to mind your company nor did Ryuu. You seemed to fit right in. Luckily for you there didn't seem to be much work today so maybe you could explore.

     Near sundown Shira asked you to drop one last concoction she brewed up off to Garak's office. Smiling you grabbed the liquid up and told her you'd be back in a jiffy.

   As soon as you were gone Shirayuki sighed. Turning around she found Obi right behind her crouched in the window.

   "Obi!" She yelped her hand flying up to her chest.

    "What are you doing here? Were you looking for y/n?" She inquired steadying her breathing.

   "How'd y'know?" He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck.

  She just smiled softly.

  "I don't know. Maybe it's the way you've been creeping around all day?" She smirked knowing she had him in a corner.

   "You see funny story. I was just conveniently around. Definitely not following." He defended weakly and she shook her head.

     "Oh sure. Convenient." She teased straightening some of her papers. 

  Obi sighed his shoulders drooping. He'd definitely been caught. Slinking out of the window sill he walked over and began to put some of the jars and containers away.

   "I know her. Knew her. She's a part of my past, better forgotten." Shrugging Obi looked over his eyes slowly widening. You were now standing behind Shirayuki. Your eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears.

  Better forgotten? You were better forgotten because you were a part of his past? He left you on purpose?

  "You left me intentionally? Obi you wanted to just leave and forget about me? About us?" Shirayuki jumped looking behind her.

   "Y/n? That was fast." She gasped seeing the tears glisten down your cheeks.

   "I can't believe you! All these years I've been worried sick, looking for you, and you left me on purpose!" You snarled.

   "You know what? Fine. I'll just go back to that bastard. Maybe he'll actually want me!" You hissed. 

   Pushing past him you jumped out of the window and stormed toward the gate walls. You didn't have time to walk all the way to the gates.

   The tears were forcing their way out and you didn't want Obi to see you cry. Running towards the wall you heard Shirayuki call out for you.     

    Stopping you turned to look back at her. She looked sad, but you smiled and waved. You would at least say goodbye. Then you turned and sprinted away.

   "Obi! You have to go get her! Before she does something reckless!" Shirayuki whipped around pleading.

  "I can't. She is making her choice. It is her choice! She is her own person if she wants to leave then I should let her. You should let her." He argued looking away.

"Obi." Shirayuki snapped catching the male off guard. Glancing up quickly he winced at the look in her eyes.

  "You care about her. You loved her?" Shirayuki asked and Obi looked down.

  He did love you. He did care about you. And that's why he had to let you go.

    "I- that was a long time ago. I mean I still care about her but..." He sighed running his hand through his hair.

  "That was gone the moment I left. She hates me for sure now." He grumbled leaning against the counter.

   "She loves you." Shirayuki insisted. "She spent years looking for you. What reason could you possibly have to let her go? Again!?" She hissed out slamming a cabinet shut.

   Obi looked up surprised at the sudden anger in her voice. Why was she so insistent? So angry? She didn't know about the past you and him had. About what the two of you had been through. Maybe she was right though. 

   However, before he could say a word Shirayuki was in his face.

   "No don't answer that because actually I don't want an answer! She needs you now! She loves you! She thought you were Dead! Dead Obi!" She snapped.

  "She looked for you and waited and you just.... You just are going to let her go?!"

  Looking down Obi felt his eyes begin to water. He didn't want to let you go but what could he do? Pretend he didn't leave? Act like he didn't just say he wanted to forget about you?

   As he thought things over he remembered the argument you'd just had and something clicked.

"Fine. I'll just go back to that bastard."

You were still stuck with Guran. That son a.... Suddenly he was turning and leaping out of the window. He landed and darted forward racing through and jumping into the trees. He needed to find you and fast. He couldn't let you go back, not to him

Back to you

  You ran faster then you thought you could. He didn't want you. He left you. He willingly left you. He abandoned you. Your mind raced as you gasped, your breath came out ragged.

  Tears streamed down your face as you sprinted between buildings and people. You couldn't stop. You had to keep moving or you'd collapse and never get back up. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad though. Just stopping and lying there in the empty dark.

  However before you got out of your current alley way someone grabbed you. Your wrist was twisted behind your back and a hand covered your mouth.      

   Panic filled you and your mind was fogged with heartache. Maybe you could just give up. You had no reason to fight. Obi didn't want you and Guran would only beat and use you. Even Touru had left you. You had no fight left so you just slumped.

    Your knees gave out and you sunk. The person grunted but pulled you up.

  "Come on my butterfly, don't be like that." The voice caused your skin to tingle uncomfortably. Guran. He'd found you.

  "Now how about we talk about how you ran away, huh?"

  You closed your eyes and pushed yourself away from him, but he only gripped onto you tighter. You whimpered as he laughed.

  "Please. You think I'm gonna let you go? Not now butterfly."

   Before you could say anything you heard something flying through the air and gasped as you felt yourself taken from the bulky, grubby arms of Guran.

   "Well how about now, you bastard." The voice was venomous. Angry.

  Opening your eyes wearily and noticed the spiky brown hair immediately. Obi. He'd come for you.... But why? Your mouth went dry as you realized you'd almost let Guran take you. Your face was red and blotchy from crying you were sure.

  Carefully the male set you down but kept you close. Cautiously you reached your arms up and dug your face into Obi's neck. His grip on you tightened as Guran let out a big burly laugh that sounded like a choke.

  "How cute the cat and the butterfly. Look Obi I ain't got no hard feelings, but she's my property. So if you don't mind..." He took a step towards you and Obi shifted you in his arms, launching three kunai at Guran. A warning.

  Snarling Guran launched at Obi. You felt the ground leave as Obi wrapped his arms around your waist launching to the right, dodging the sloppy attack. Anger was making a deadly assassin useless.

  Your eyes widened as Guran turned his eyes large and wide. In his side was a kunai. You couldn't be sure if Obi had done it or if his anger had made him act that recklessly, but he looked like a pissed off bull.

  Tapping Obi's shoulder you looked up to him hoping he got the message. Before Obi could respond, you pushed away from him and sped around the bleeding Guran. He was a bastard, but he wasn't stupid. He couldn't attack you both.

   Obi seemed to catch on and sped the opposite way. Rushing around you noticed Guran's eyes latch onto you. He wanted you. That was enough information to know your next move.

  Running towards the woods you saw earlier. Running through you pulled yourself up into a tree and began to hop tree to tree. Guran had been stabbed, hopefully that would slow him down.

  Climbing and jumping, you kept going, praying Guran wasn't as close as he felt. This was certainly a game of cat and mouse, but this mouse was just as dangerous.

    As you hopped towards another branch you yelped when you felt hands grasp at your ankles causing you to slip off of the branch.

   You fell hard, branches digging into your skin and bruising your body. You gasped loudly when you hit the ground, the air being forced out of your lungs. Your arms were scraped, your legs ached, and your back burned.

   Opening your eyes you saw Guran was growling across from you, his eyes wide and wild. Gritting your teeth you pushed yourself up before sprinting again. You heard his body clamber up, the branches snapping under his weight.

   Where was Obi? Was he okay? Were you going to be okay? You didn't know but kept running. You dodged multiple trees as you gasped for air, lungs burning. Maybe you'd bruised a couple ribs.

   Listening intently you heard rushing water. Legs pumping with all they were worth, you raced to the source. You gasped at the large waterfall. There was no way you could jump that.

   A branch snapped behind you and you whipped around. Turning you saw Guran slinking in a primal look in his gaze. You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked around for an escape.

   "You dumb bitch. You thought you could leave? That he could save you? He ran away like the coward he is." He laughed a nasally laugh. Your heart slammed against your chest, but you kept your face neutral.

   "Yet I'm still standing." You replied stepping back slightly. You winced as you felt the soft ground give way slightly.

   "Not for long." Your eyes widened as he pulled out his whip, quickly lashing it at your ankles.

   Yelping you stepped back trying to avoid the lashing of the whip, but the ground gave way and your footing left you, rushing water frothing, ready to swallow you.

  Squeezing your eyes shut you prepared for your death, silently praying it was the water that killed you and not Guran. What you didn't expect however was for someone to grab you mid-fall. Cracking your eyes open you saw the cat-like hues of Obi. He looked pissed.

   "The only coward I see here is you, Guran." His voice was harsh and cold as he pulled you securely into his chest. Your heart was racing, pounding.

  "Listen, Obi we never had any bad blood. I said it before, I'll say it again. Just hand the girl over. She's my property, and needs to be punished. Isn't that right, little butterfly?" You shuddered at the nickname.

  "No. You'll have to kill me first, and I don't plan on dying anytime soon." Obi snarled.

  Quickly he pulled you from his chest, before grabbing your hand and pulling you through the trees again.

  The branches scratched and tore at you skin and clothes, your ribs and back ached, your eyes were red and puffy, but you hadn't felt this alive, this free, in forever.

  Calming your breathing you listened as Guran crashed through the woods, yelling and cursing at you both.

  Soon though, despite your high pain tolerance and stamina, the pain in your side became too much and you collapsed, your breathing becoming labored. You knew Guran was close, but you couldn't run anymore.

  "Y/n what's wrong?" Obi whipped around as you collapsed.

  When he saw you on the ground, your chest heaving, he panicked. Immediately he crouched down trying to look you over.

    Looking into your eyes for permission he grabbed the hem of your top. You nodded with a wince and that was all he needed. Pulling your shirt up slightly he grimaced at the already purpling bruises.

  "Y/n we have to keep moving. I'm sorry." He sighed before pulling you up and into his arms.

  "This is gonna hurt." He warned before darting away again.

  You moaned slightly in pain, wrapping your arms around his neck. Peering over his shoulder you saw a very angry Guran.

   Obi must have noticed the male closing in because he ran faster, faster than you thought he could carrying you. The woods began to thin. You were closing in on the town.

   "Y/n," you heard Obi speak, but you just tucked your face away into his neck. He nodded, his pace slowing down as he began to make turns into random alley ways.

   "They should be around here..." He murmured and then you heard horse hooves.

   "Obi! What were you- y/n?" You heard Zen, his voice going from irritation to concern.

   "Master! Where is Shirayuki? Y/n, she's not doing to good." Obi's voice faltered at the end as his arms tightened around your legs and waist causing you to cry out quietly. He apologized softly.

   "I'm right-" she stopped when she saw you in Obi's arms.

    "Oh my god. Y/n!" She cried as she rushed over her hands fluttering over you not knowing where to start.

   "You son of a bitch!" A familiar voice snarled behind you and you felt your heart squeeze.

   Guran stood behind you, behind Obi, his katana held out with one hand, and the other holding his bleeding abdomen.

    "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to torture her and I'm going to make you watch!" He snapped rushing at the group and you screamed as he slashed down.

   Zen rushed forward throwing Shirayuki up onto his horse and Obi dodged the blade, his hold on you never loosening.

    He wasn't going to give you up. He wasn't going to let you go again. Having you so close and almost losing you so quickly, put him into resignation. You were never leaving his side and he'd never leave yours again.

    "Fucking hell. Just give me the bitch. She's broken. Useless." Guran growled his tone bored and tired.

    "Like hell." Obi snarled, before handing you up to Mitsuhide.

    "You want her? You'll have to take her from my cold, dead hands." Obi snapped pulling 3 kunai out.

   Guran smiled. "That can be arranged."

  You tried to stay awake. You tried so hard but everything hurt. Your head was pounding and you felt like you were on fire.

   "Mitsu," you whimpered before the heat over took you. You fell limp in the man's arms causing him to freak out. Obi very nearly turned around to grab you and just run. He wouldn't though. Couldn't. He'd get rid of this bastard so that he never hurt you again.

   "I'm going to kill you." Obi frowned as he said it, but he knew he meant it.

    "I'd like to see you try. I taught you everything you know, boy." Guran snickered before rushing forward. The two danced around each other, stabbing and jerking at each other.

   Obi would stab at him and Guran would jerk to the side before prodding at Obi. Obi didn't want to underestimate the man. Stabbed or not he was still an assassin. Still deadly.

   "I'm going to incapacitate you. And then I'm going to kill each and every one of your friends, saving our little butterfly for last. Her? I'm going to kill her nice and slow. A stab here a slice there. I'm going to make her scream." Guran sneered, an attempt  to make Obi lash out at him.

   "I'm going to kill you quickly. You'll have no mercy." Obi hissed.

   His eyes were small slits, and his face held a prominent frown as he circled the bulky male, looking for an opening.

   He found one when the man jumped towards Mitsuhide's horse. His mistake was turning his back to Obi. As he leapt at you and Mitsuhide, Kiki jumped in front of your horse and deflected the man's katana with a clang!

   Obi appeared behind the man, one kunai at his throat and another through his back.

   "Go to hell." Obi whispered in Guran's ear before slitting his throat.

   Shirayuki hid her face in Zens back and Kiki nodded at Obi. Then Obi was at your side brushing your hair back and Mitsuhide offered to ride with Kiki.  Shirayuki rode with Zen allowing Obi to ride back with you held close to his chest. Zen sent some of his towns guard to deal with the body.

Later

   "How is she?" Zen asked peering over at Obi who held you, clutching on to you like you'd disappear with the wind.

   "I won't know for sure until we get back, Master. She hasn't opened her eyes yet." Obi glanced back down at you, your face was still red and looked troubled.

    That look on your face hurt him, and in that moment he knew he'd never walk away from you again. He never thought about how leaving would affect you. He never gave himself the chance to think about it.

    His grip on you tightened the more he thought about it. Leaning down he kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes again he would make you a promise. A promise to never leave you ever again.   

    When you all arrived back to the castle, everyone fretted over you and Obi. You were still unconscious, still in Obi's arms, as they lead him to the infirmary.

    Gurak took care of him while Ryuu and Shirayuki treated you. Ryuu looked ready to break, and Shirayuki had a look of concentration, determined to ease the pain.

    Obi would've smiled at her determined face but he couldn't seem to find it. When you did wake up it was 4 hours later. Obi never left your side, holding your hand in his. He didn't leave, even when Zen ordered him to get something to eat or drink, or just anything that would distract him.

    Shirayuki promised you'd be okay, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you did wake up he was right there with you.

    Your first response to waking up was to promptly hit the first person you saw. Fight or Flight kicking in. That person was Obi. You swung and Obi caught your fist.

    "Easy there, Tiger. You might hurt someone." He chided playfully, his eyes glinting softly.

    "Obi." You all but whispered before leaping into his arms.

    It hurt, hell it hurt, but being in his arms made you feel so much better. Knowing he didn't leave you, eased your heartache.  

     He held you securely, but not painfully. His face was tucked into your neck as he held you. Your arms were wound around his shoulders and you cried softly into his jacket.

    He didn't let you go, not until you pulled away. Then he held your face, his eyes boring into yours. Your face flushed lightly and then he leaned forward. His lips barely touching yours, hovering. Closing your eyes you closed the gap. His lips were warm, and slightly wet. It made your stomach flip and your heart pound.

    Kissing Obi. You were kissing Obi. You hands found their way to the back of his neck deepening the kiss. You would've kissed him forever but you pulled away before you could embarrass yourself.

     "Never-" you started but jumped when he spoke at the same time.

    "I love you." He whispered tucking your hair behind your ear.

    Your eyes widened and you stared at him, unsure as to whether or not you were awake.

    "Obi- I love you, too?" Your voice was higher than normal in shock. He let out a sigh of relief before holding your hands in his.

   "Thank god. You were saying?" He asked as he played with your fingers. It took you a minute but you realized what he meant and reiterated.

    "I was saying 'never leave me again' but I think you got that covered." You laughed leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

     "Never." He agreed nodding.

   You let out a sigh of relief but yelped when the door slammed open and Ryuu and Shirayuki ran in and globbed you.

   Gurak laughed as you were mauled and you playfully glared at her, wrapping your arms around both of your friends.

    "I'm okay." You promised them.

   When they finally pulled away Shirayuki checked you over and confirmed that, while you'd be sore, you were indeed fine.

   Obi held your hand the entire time and that calmed you. When she was done they'd all taken turns explaining what happened while you were unconscious and telling you about the treatment you'd needed and received.

    Obi purposefully left out the unaliving of Guran. He did tell you that he wouldn't bother you anymore though, but that was it.

    You nodded listening intently. When they finished you smiled at them, thanking them and then turned to kiss Obi on the cheek.

    "I may not have a prince charming like our little red here, but I do have my own knight." You snickered and you saw Ryuu smile slightly. Obi chuckled kissing your forehead.

    Smiling at your newfound friends you winked at them. You'd scored the runaway assassin. 

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation. 

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...) 

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand. 

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone. 

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle. 

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking. 

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound. 

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night. 

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store. 

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“ 

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me” 

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.” 

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him. 

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips. 

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply. 

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink. 

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine. 

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby. 

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests. 

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning. 

“A job and you.” 

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all. 

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar. 

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom. 

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment. 

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you. 

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing. 

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.  Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him. 

“Already this wet, babygirl?” 

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles. 

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist. 

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock. 

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting. 

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy. 

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you. 

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls. 

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots. 

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release. 

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?” 

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed. 

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak. 

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”. 

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable. 

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you. 

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Four: The Foundation of Growth

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Silas is officially his own warning! Death of a parent, depressive undertones, grief, food, pls lmk if I missed any!

W/C: 3.3k

A/N: This one is loaded with feelings guys, I didn't mean for it to be so heavy handed in the grief area, but I hope the conversation Ezra has with Reader offsets that. I definitely got into my own feelings about loss with this one, so I'm really sorry in advance if it's too much to handle. Read at your own risk, I've said it before, this story is not for everyone, always take care of yourself first & foremost lovelies. I've got some fluff coming up to make up for this one! I'm still building the plot you guys, I hope you're still with me!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist Form

Chapter Three || Chapter Five

~MAY THIRD OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Two weeks have since passed; Pa and Ezra had tediously worked the fields, sowed the seeds with care, and the fruition of all their work thus far has resulted in the small sprouts now growing from the Earth. ‘One of Mother Nature’s greatest gifts’, Ezra had said once while you gazed upon the rows of leaflets. Rebirth, growth, new beginnings. You find yourself envying the fresh buds, wishing to crawl into the dirt and begin again as well.

The shop is quiet today. Since you chased away the older women looking to learn more about Ezra Prospect, you haven’t heard a peep since. Quite surprising, though you count your blessings and hope the silence will hold, if only for a moment longer. The children play in the road with the stray town dog and you catch yourself giggling as you watch them. Such innocence in their youth. You only hope life treats them kinder than it had to you.

The shop bell dinging pulls you out of your thoughts and you stand straighter to greet the customer. Lucille Jones enters, without the overbearing presence of her mother – a shock in and of itself. She walks with her hands entwined in front of her, her head lowered some, and blonde ringlets of hair fall forward to frame her face, but she still carries a gentle smile on her face as she looks up at you.

As much as you pitied the outcome of your own life, you could not help but pity Lucille’s tenfold. Her father had fought and perished in the war, the only person to have shown her love and caring, and she was now left with her mother, who was ready to practically pawn her off to the next richest man to come through town.

Were it not for her mother’s meddling, you know the two of you would be great friends. She may be the only other person in this town who can empathize with your despondency; her dreams, likely, have been ripped from her as well. Though, it makes the curiosity spark within you as you wonder why exactly she has shown up in the shop so suddenly and without her mother.

“Hello, Lucille. It’s nice to see you,” you say politely. She nods in return. Timid girl. “May I interest you in anything? I’ve concocted a new healing agent to help with the pesky bug bites during the summer,” you offer gently.

“I-I’ve…” She squeaks. You cock your head slightly at her.

“Lucille, what has your nerves so rattled?”

“I’ve come as a favor to my mother. And Mrs. Foster and Mrs. McKenna.”

She faces you head on now, her soft voice filled with determination to complete her mission, yet her eyes, filled with regret, betray her. You raise your eyebrows in contempt and sigh deeply, and upon seeing your reaction, Lucille’s desire to help her mother gossip dissipates. She quickly steps forward, the heels of her white boots clacking against the wooden floors and the skirts of her pink dress flowing behind her.

“I’m so sorry, I did not wish to come and gossip. It is not my desire. My mother… She would not rest until I agreed to come here,” she laments, the quiver in her voice proving to you that she truly meant no harm. “I will pass on the news that you will speak to no one. Forgive me,” she says, her head hanging lower now than at the start of this conversation as she turns to walk away.

“Wait,” you call out. She stops in her tracks, but does not turn to face you again. You walk around the counter to her position. “Lucille… Why do you follow what your mother commands of you?” You ask softly.

“I…” She looks up in your eyes, tears forming in her own and you swear you feel a string in your heart snap at the sight. “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. You can choose to leave all this behind, leave this town and its capability to drain the life from you. You do have a choice for how you desire to live your life.”

You hold her by her shoulders as you speak and you realize you are sharing advice with her that could very well be said to your own face. You know it is not a possibility for you, but if you were able to help Lucille leave town and save her from feeling the same hopelessness as you, a part of you would be freed as well, knowing she will have been able to move on to better things.

She stares at you, the tears in her eyes now dried up and you see a small spark of hope in them, but before you can speak more to nurture that spark into a larger flame, the shop bell dings again. Based on the dark figure in your peripheral, the stomp of large, gaudy boots walking in, the heady scent of cheap cologne filling your nostrils, you know exactly who it is.

Lucille looks at the man first and you remove your hands from her shoulders, taking a step back and inhaling a deep breath, nearly choking on the fragrance now overpowering the shop.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor,” Lucille greets, bowing her head slightly.

“Hiya sweetheart,” he responds in a predatory voice and you snap your head in his direction.

“How can I help you, Silas?” You ask quickly before he can intimidate poor Lucille.

“I heard you’ve got some queer working on the farm now,” he chuckles.

“Do not call him that,” you bite and Silas immediately stops laughing.

“Darlin’,” he takes a step toward you and Lucille backs away against the shop wall. “Don’t tell me you have befriended him. You’re too good for the likes of a freak.”

“You don’t know him,” you reply, keeping your head held high with determination, but you instinctually flinch when Silas barks out a laugh.

“And you do?!” He says, grinning wickedly. “For your sake, honey, I truly hope not.”

“What is your meaning, Silas? He works on my farm, it is only natural that I will, and have, come to know him.”

“Perhaps,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more aggressive, octave. “Just be aware of the consequences if you come to know him as more than the simple farmhand he is.”

You wish to spit in his face, to continue defending Ezra, yet the instincts within you beg for you to stop. Though you’ve never been one to cower at Silas and his schemes, you’ve also never seen him as he is before you. Crazed, animalistic, frightening. You’re unsure of what he truly is capable of and you would hate for now to be the time to learn.

Despite the resolute expression you attempt to hold, your eyes must shine with the light fear he managed to instill in you with his threat because he flashes a satisfied smirk, a laugh escaping his flared nostrils as he backs away from you. He turns on his heels and faces Lucille again, huffing a goodbye to her and glancing over his shoulder at you before walking out.

“Are you all right?” Lucille asks softly. You only nod in return. “That man is…” She scoffs, understanding how loathsome he is.

“Not a man. A beast.”

~MAY FIFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As you exit the house, ready to meet Ezra at the place you now share together, you reach up to grab an apple from the tree for yourself and throw it in your bag along with your book. You take a step away then halt just as quickly. You consider Ezra, and smile to yourself as you reach up again to grab another apple from the branch, setting it gently inside your bag.

As you approach the oak, you see Ezra standing near the edge of the river, his hands clasped behind his back and head held high. He seems to be enjoying the scenery and you try to lighten your steps so as to not draw him from his serene moment, but the grass crunches under your boots as you walk, regardless of how careful you are, and Ezra turns his head in the direction of the noise, smiling brightly once he sees you.

“Dear Sunflower, I was afraid you would not show today,” he says as he turns his whole body to face you.

“My apologies,” you catch your lip in between your teeth, hiding the amused grin forming on your face, your heart skipping a beat at the knowledge that he had been waiting for your arrival. You dig in your bag in search of the apple you plucked specially for him. “A gift for keeping you waiting,” you say and hold the bright, red fruit out to him.

“Sunflower,” he gasps softly, as though you had just handed him a precious gem. “Thank you. A sweet and kind gesture from someone as equally generous; it will not be forgotten.”

You nod once while you bite the inside of your cheeks. What has gotten you so giddy? He merely gave his thanks for your offering, but the smile on his face, his eyes searching yours to clue him in on what has you so affected, makes a schoolgirl-ish giggle escaping your throat.

You reach for your own apple and drop your bag down in the grass, closer to the tree, and you step closer to the river, kneeling down and carefully dipping the apple into the cool stream to wash the skin. Ezra kneels down beside you and follows your lead.

“These are from the tree by the house. The last tree I was able to plant with my mother before she-”

You pause, immediately feeling your throat constrict and halting any further words from falling from your lips. You’ve not spoken so carefree of your mother to anyone, and the suddenness of your desire to do so catches you off guard. Though you have gotten to know Ezra as more than an acquaintance, the truth of the matter was he is still a stranger to you.

You sense the energy shift around you, and you bite your tongue in penance for turning such a peaceful time into an unpleasant one. Ezra stops washing his apple and leans up straight again while you keep your hands under the cold water, scared to look into his eyes and see judgement.

“Sunflower,” he calls and you startle slightly. After a moment of silence, he speaks again. “If you were to wash that fruit any longer, I’m afraid it may lose its red complexion and turn into a shade of white.”

You cannot help the awkward chuckle that falls from your mouth and you lean up straight as well, still avoiding his gaze as you dry the apple with your apron. Aside from the running water next to you, the air is silent, neither of you speaking a word.

You continue drying the apple, turning it over and over in the cloth around your waist, even though you’re sure there are no water droplets remaining. Suddenly, a loud chomp is heard and your eyes snap up to the offending noise to see Ezra bringing the apple away from his lips, and the two of you break out into gentle laughter.

“Sunflower,” he begins after swallowing the piece of fruit in his mouth. “This is truly the sweetest apple I’ve ever bitten into, and I wholeheartedly believe it is because you and your dear mother were the ones to nurture the tree that grew it.”

The smile that remained on your face from your laughter slowly falls as you remember the day your mother suggested you plant the tree from a seed she accidentally bit into. You can recall her giggles as she grabbed you by the hand and pulled you outside, instructing you to grab the small shovel that was laid by the house while she held the seed in her closed fist.

Pa had said it would not take, chuckling and shaking his head as your mother shooed him away, reprimanding him for cursing the seedling before it had a chance to grow. And, with much love and dedication that your mother insisted on carrying out together, the small tree grew, and soon after, sprouted the shiny, red globes.

“I… I apologize for the sudden change of atmosphere, Ezra,” you say quietly, glancing up at him sheepishly and, to your surprise, are met with a gentle smile of understanding across his face.

“Please do not apologize for reminiscing upon your loved one. It is a hobby I frequently partake in. The memories… They are what keep them alive. No longer with us in the physical sense, yet they live in the grass, in the rivers. In the trees.”

“Like the Green?” You ask shyly as you pick at the stem of your apple.

“Yes. They are born again, just in a different form, but always here to remind you of life. Much like the apple tree is a reminder of your mother.”

You wonder to yourself if Ezra has been a victim of loss as well. The way he speaks of it seems as though he talks from experience, but you do not dare ask. As uncomfortable as it can be for you to speak about your mother, you’d hate to bring that discomfort to him as well. Yet… He speaks so openly, so calmly, that you feel yourself longing to open up.

“Perhaps if I dream of the Green, I would see my mother again,” you say under your breath, feeling the tears that have so long desired to flow build in your eyes with an unbearable pressure.

“You do not need to wait until your dreams, dear Sunflower. You only need to look around at the life surrounding you to know she is here. Close your eyes and she will appear.”

You only have the strength to nod, the lump stuck in your throat as thick as Pa’s dreadful grits he so enjoys making during the winter. A small laugh bubbles over as you remember the way your mother put up the facade of enjoying his grits only to empty them in a bucket to be fed to the cows at a later time.

You look back up at Ezra and he smiles, his eyes shining with compassion, no hint of judgement or scrutiny to be found, and the lump in your throat vanishes, comfort radiating from his person onto you like a warm, wool blanket.

“Would…” You hesitate, but an overwhelming urge to share with Ezra commands you to continue. “Would you like to see her?”

“I would love to,” he nods gently.

You smile softly, leaving your apple to rest in your lap while you carefully pull at the chain around your neck until the small locket emerges from underneath your blouse. You scoot closer to Ezra and he mimics your movement, leaning closer to you as well and you recognize that this is the first time he has been in such close proximity to you.

You shove the tip of your fingernail between the crevice of the locket until it pops open, revealing the black and white photograph of your mother that you yourself have not taken the opportunity to look at in far too long. The length of the chain is still too short for Ezra to get a proper look, so he leans in closer, your heads mere inches apart.

You feel your pulse thumping against your chest, the vein in your neck throbbing as you feel the heat emanating from him. He smells of cedarwood and the hay bed he sleeps on, a light scent of sweat from working the fields, and something almost sweet, a unique aroma to be found only on his person and no one else.

“She is very beautiful, Sunflower. It is as plain as the nose on my face that you are her daughter,” he compliments, backing away from you slowly and you giggle softly as you place the locket back into your blouse. “What is her name?”

“Emma,” you smile genuinely, for once feeling not one ounce of sadness as you say her name aloud.

“Emma. She is now the sun, moon, and stars that shine down on you, Sunflower.”

You smile once again and nod as you place your hand on your chest, feeling the cool metal press against the warm skin covering your sternum. You close your eyes and let the sun’s rays warm your cheeks as you take a deep breath, heeding Ezra’s thoughtful words and imagining that your mother is, indeed, the sun kissing your face.

“Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts, Ezra,” you say after a beat of prolonged silence. As you look over at him, you see his head lowering, too, as if he had mimicked your action and let the warmth of the sun fall on his face as well.

“You have no need to thank me, dear one. I am elated you deemed me worthy to share your thoughts with. If you ever desire to share again, please know I am here,” he says softly as he smiles.

“You are a very good friend, Ezra. I am happy to know you.”

“And I, you.”

You look down at your lap to your forgotten apple, raising it to your mouth to take a bite and Ezra resumes eating his as well. Once you’ve both bitten down to the core, you both toss them into the river and you stand up, allowing the blood to circulate through your legs again before heading over to the tree.

You bend over to collect your bag along the way and your book falls from the opening as you stand straight. Before you are able to bend down to grab it, Ezra is already there, lifting it in his hands while he reads the cover.

“‘Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland’?” He smiles quizzically.

“I understand it is for children, but I quite enjoy the adventure and wonder of it,” you say, smiling from embarrassment.

“I do not judge what a young lady chooses to read in her spare time, Sunflower,” he grins as he hands the book to you. “I have yet to read this one. Will you read it aloud for me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “If you’d like.”

You both sit down in the grass, leaning your backs against the trunk of the oak tree as you find the page you last left off. The scene of Alice’s trial has Ezra suddenly captivated as to what caused Alice to be put on trial, unfairly it seemed. You do your best to explain, which only produces more questions from Ezra.

You giggle at his frustration over the treatment of this poor girl and decide to start the book over for Ezra to follow along, a genuine happiness washing over you at the thought of reading this story to Ezra for the weeks to come. He leans in closer, as though the distance you had between you previously was too far for him to hear you and you stumble over your words slightly.

You still do not understand this feeling overcoming you; the only thing you do understand is that you do not feel the need to place a guard around yourself as you do with the others in town. You want to share with Ezra, you feel comfortable enough with him already, though he has only been here for two weeks.

Yet, you feel as though you know him better than most around you and you feel that he understands you better than even your Pa. It frightens you, yet you have no desire to run from it, but rather towards it. A new path you find yourself carving into your mind.

Chapter Three || Chapter Five

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[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Here’s the ask to answer for your next try, lol. If only the people knew what we’re doing..

I don’t know what you’ve been planning with this, but I am scared.

Make me cry, Vaunna. Good luck!

we went for the happy kind of cry last time and it did not work SO here’s the soul-destroying kind of angst :3 good luck everybody

btw this is an AU to my fanon. it is in no way canon, it’s just a thing i thought might make Raven cry so :3 (and honestly im super proud of it so im happy whether or not it succeeds LOL)

a/n: bc a lot of my helsmits have the nickname Hels now, i’ve decided not to shorten their name to Hels when i’m writing them so that’s why Helsknight is continually referred to by his full name. sorry if it’s kinda awkward but it’s the way i wanna write it :)

…

Emerging from the forest, Wels takes in a deep breath of fresh air and sits down on a rock, the Yes Wings Club building in sight. After a nice walk out here with his hels counterpart, he needs to rest his legs for a moment.

“What is this?” asks Helsknight, approaching his counterpart with a thin pink object in his hand.

Wels glances up. “Oh, that’s an allium. It’s a flower.”

Helsknight stares at it for a moment. “What’s it for?”

“It looks pretty.”

“It does look pretty,” agrees Helsknight. “But is it functionally useful?”

Wels thinks for a moment. “It helps bees make honey. And you can give it to someone you like to show that you like them. But really, it’s just pretty.”

“Huh. Back in Helscraft, nothing exists just to be pretty.” After a moment, Helsknight sighs. “If I was in Helscraft, I’d just toss this back on the ground. Useless.”

“You’re not in Helscraft anymore,” Wels responds warmly. “You’re in Hermitcraft. If you like the flower, you should keep it. Useless doesn’t necessarily mean worthless.”

“That’s… That’s true.”

After a moment, Helsknight offers the flower to Wels, who gives a pleasantly confused frown. “What are you doing?”

Helsknight coughs awkwardly. “You, uh… You said you can give flowers to someone you like. I like you. Kind of.”

A wide grin appears on Wels’s face as he accepts the allium from his counterpart. “Aww. I think you’re actually starting to fit into Hermitcraft life.”

“How dare you,” Helsknight deadpans.

Wels laughs. “It’s not so bad. You seem a lot happier now than you were a few weeks ago. Maybe sometime soon, we can go ask Xisuma if you can be properly integrated into Hermitcraft.”

Helsknight stares at him hopefully. “Really? Do you think he’ll say yes?”

“If he sees how much you’ve changed and how valuable a member you can be, I think he might!”

“Wow…” Helsknight gazes down at the ground. “I can’t believe it might actually happen. I might never have to go back to Helscraft again.”

“If I have my way, you’ll stay here forever,” says Wels. “Anyway, you said you wanted to spar, right? It’s getting close to sunset; we’ll have to go home soon.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”

Wels jumps up from his perch and the two start sparring with their swords. Within a minute, Helsknight sweeps Wels’s legs out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground, losing his weapon. “Hey!” Wels yelps. “That’s cheating!”

Helsknight laughs as he points his sword at Wels. “I believe that’s called a checkmate.”

Wels chuckles back and is about to respond when they both hear a voice scream Wels’s name from the direction of the Yes Wings Club building.

“Impulse?!” gasps Wels. “What is he-?!”

“Get away from Wels!” Impulse yells, charging at Helsknight with a sword. As the helsmit was not expecting an attack, Impulse is able to knock the sword out of Helsknight’s hand with no trouble.

“Impulse, don’t!” Wels yelps, struggling to get up. “He’s good now! He’s not evil anymore!”

But Impulse is already attacking Helsknight, who is unable to properly defend himself without a weapon.

Wels scrambles to his feet. “IMPULSE, STOP! HE’S NOT A THREAT ANYMORE!”

As Helsknight stumbles, Impulse lunges, clearly not thinking straight, clearly just trying to defend Wels from what he perceives to be an attack on his friend.

But he’s going to kill Helsknight. Forever.

So Wels shoves Helsknight out the way of Impulse’s attack. Impulse tries to stop his strike but it’s already too late.

Impulse’s blade pierces the centre of Wels’s chest and goes straight through the other side.

Letting go of his sword in shock and horror, Impulse stumbles backwards.

Helsknight quickly catches Wels as the latter’s knees sag and he lowers his counterpart to the ground, pulling out Impulse’s sword and tossing it away. He tries to stop the bleeding but it’s no use; the wound is too severe.

“Wels, I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I’m so sorry!”

Wels grasps weakly at Helsknight’s wrist, causing the latter to lift his torso up onto his lap. “Hels, don’t blame yourself,” Wels whispers. “P-Please. This was m-my choice, okay? Mine.”

“Wels…” Helsknight gazes down at his counterpart with anguished eyes. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“B-Because I like you,” rasps Wels with a weak smile. “Kind of.”

Helsknight squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to speak again.

Finally, he feels Wels’s hand slide off his wrist, and he knows it’s over.

Welsknight was slain by impulseSV

Several seconds go by.

“Wh-Why isn’t he respawning?” Impulse croaks, starting to panic. “Why is his body still here? WHY ISN’T HE RESPAWNING?!”

Helsknight gazes down at Wels’s body with tears in his eyes. “I… Part of me didn’t think it was actually real…”

“WHAT’s real?” demands Impulse, his voice shrill with panic.

“It- It’s called the Hels Curse,” Helsknight explains shakily. “If a helsmit is directly or indirectly responsible for their counterpart’s death, their counterpart won’t respawn. It’s- It’s permadeath. And the curse is extremely specific, so it doesn’t matter that you were the one who killed him. Because you were aiming for me and he pushed me out of the way, I am indirectly responsible for his death.” Helsknight hangs his head and gently touches Wels’s shoulder. “He’s gone. Forever.”

His chest feels so heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that his best friend is dead. Wels loved Helsknight so much that he willingly sacrificed his life for him. That thought alone is enough to make a few tears flow from his eyes.

For the first time in his life, Helsknight is crying.

But after a few seconds, something springs to his mind and he hurriedly wipes his eyes. There IS something he can do. Another mechanism of being a helsmit that he can use here.

“This is your fault!” Impulse screams suddenly, kicking Helsknight away from Wels. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Wait wait wait wait!” yelps Helsknight, frantically backing away from the furious hermit. “I can save him! I can save him!”

Impulse freezes in the process of picking up his sword. “What?”

“There’s a thing called the Altruist Failsafe,” Helsknight explains hurriedly. “Helsmits are created from the energy and lifeforce of their hermit counterparts. That’s why the curse exists: when a helsmit kills a hermit, they absorb the rest of their lifeforce, which is why they don’t respawn. But it also means they can give their lifeforce back to their hermit counterpart.”

Impulse stares at him suspiciously. “Are you saying you, an evil hermit, would sacrifice your life for Wels?”

Helsknights nods earnestly. “Wels took the blow you aimed at me. I was meant to die, not him. He deserves to live, not me. I can’t live in this world without him.”

With that, he moves over to Wels’s body and kneels down by his side. Impulse steps back, watching him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Helsknight presses his hands to the centre of his chest and closes his eyes. After counting to three, he slowly moves them away from his chest, drawing out a small glowing red heart.

This is Helsknight’s lifeforce and without it, he can feel his strength already draining away.

So he quickly but carefully moves it down to Wels and pushes it into his chest the same way he had drawn it out of his own.

Immediately, Wels’s body starts to glow.

Helsknight rises unsteadily to his feet and staggers a few blocks away. He kneels beside the rock Wels had been sitting on earlier and props himself up against it, gazing up at the stars one last time.

They’re so beautiful.

Impulse, kneeling at Wels’s side, watches him. He watches Helsknight’s chest stop moving. He watches the light leave Helsknight’s eyes.

And at the same moment, Wels’s eyes open and he takes in an involuntary breath.

“Wels!” Impulse gasps. “You’re alive!”

Wels blinks in confusion, his gaze flickering all over as he tries to register where he is. “Wait, what happened? I-I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Helsknight gave his life for you,” explains Impulse quietly. “Some kind of… altruist thing, he said?”

“Oh-!” Wels’s heart freezes as his gaze lands on the limp body of Helsknight, propped up against the rock. Oh no! Nonononononono!”

He scrambles over to Helsknight and lifts his body onto his lap, trying desperately to awaken his counterpart. “Hels! HELS! NO!”

As it becomes increasingly obvious that Helsknight is dead, Wels hugs his body close to him, fighting back tears. “Why, Hels…?” he croaks. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“I’m sorry, Wels,” Impulse whispers, standing a few blocks behind Wels. “But… But you’re alive now. Isn’t that the best outcome?”

It takes Wels a few seconds to register what Impulse just said. “W-What…?! No!”

“A world where you’re dead and your hels counterpart is alive is not a good world, Wels,” says Impulse gently.

“I don’t care!” Wels’s voice cracks halfway through his sentence. “There’s a reason I jumped in front of your sword!”

Impulse, clearly taken aback by how furious Wels seems to be at him, gives a deep frown. “Wels, I don’t think you understand: you were permadead! You weren’t gonna respawn!”

“I KNOW!” Wels roars. “Hels told me about the curse!”

Impulse’s eyes widen in shock as he realises what his friend is trying to say. “Y-You were really okay with permadying for him?”

Wels carefully lowers Helsknight’s body to the ground and stands up to face his friend. “YES because HE would’ve permadied if you’d killed him! You just don’t LISTEN, do you?! I tried to tell you!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I saw him attacking you and I thought-!”

“I TRIED TO TELL YOU HE WASN’T A THREAT!” bellows Wels, unleashing all his grief and fury. “I TOLD YOU HE WAS GOOD NOW! AND YOU KILLED HIM ANYWAY!”

“I just wanted to protect y-!”

SLASH.

impulseSV was slain by Welsknight

Wels collapses to his hands and knees, his sword falling to the ground surrounded by Impulse’s items. He’s just killed his friend, but he no longer cares. Impulse will respawn. Helsknight will not.

He can’t believe Helsknight is gone. Not just gone but he sacrificed his life for Wels. He remembers Helsknight telling him about both the Hels Curse and the Altruist Failsafe. Part of him always knew he would die to the Hels Curse, but he never expected both of them to come into play within minutes of each other.

After a moment, he picks up Impulse’s shovel and starts to dig a hole in the ground not far from Helsknight’s body. When this is done, he carefully lifts his counterpart’s body into the hole and gently places Impulse’s sword in Helsknight’s hands, arranged so that the blade lies pointing towards the foot of the grave.

He sits back on his heels and takes a deep breath, letting tears fall from his eyes.

“Whenever death may surprise us, let it be welcome if our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear and another hand reaches out to take up our arms,” he says hoarsely, reciting an old soldiers’ prayer that he had learned during his service.

With that, he methodically fills in the hole and sticks his sword in the ground above its head as a makeshift gravestone. And as a final touch, he plants an allium over the site. The allium that Helsknight had given him just half an hour ago. When everything in the world was good and the future felt bright.

As Wels turns to leave, he spots an iron sword lying on the ground a little way off. He realises with a jerk that it’s Helsknight’s sword, lying where its owner had dropped it when he had been attacked by Impulse.

He picks it up and inspects the blade. A memory of Helsknight crafting this sword resurfaces and what he was talking about as he did.

If our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear.

He recalls the way Helsknight spoke about Helscraft back then, how it’s a horrible place because the universe gave the best worlds to Hermitcraft and abandoned Helscraft to fend for itself. How passionately he spoke about wanting to create a better life for his Hels siblings.

And another hand reaches out to take up our arms.

His hand closes around the hilt of the sword and he lifts it aloft, closing his eyes against the rain that has started to fall from the darkening sky, as if the server itself is weeping for Wels’s loss.

“I’ll fight in your name, Hels,” he vows. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

[shoutaaizawas]

Also hhhh bakugou in arranged marriage w "have you ever kissed anyone before?"

thank you for this request!!

↳ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader → ❝free❞

event: au prompt event summary: you have no choice but to marry bakugou katsuki, your parents made sure of that. he’s the last person you would want to marry but maybe he’s not as bad as you thought. word count: 2,835 tags/warnings: arranged marriage!au, fluff, a hint of angst

It would have been your preference to not end up in an arranged marriage but sadly you didn’t have much choice. It wasn’t that you were in love with someone and couldn’t stand the thought of being without them. No, you were single and had been for a long time. Well forever technically.

Maybe that was why your parents had set you up with Bakugou Katsuki. Well set up was a polite way to put it. More like guilted into and slightly threatened into an arranged marriage. Your parents were great heroes with great quirks that were passed down to you and you were following in their footsteps as a hero.

They wanted you to have children that would also have a great quirk. There way of doing that was to have you marry Bakugou Katsuki. If you refused not only would they be upset but they had threatened to kick you out of the family agency and denounce you which would end your dreams of taking over the family agency. You considered starting your own but if they denounced you publicly you would drop so hard in the ranks you wouldn’t be able to.

It was a bad situation altogether but you supposed that there were worse things than getting married. You just weren’t sure if it was better or worse that you were familiar with Bakugou. The explosive hero, Ground Zero, was known to all. He was an impressive hero with a powerful quirk it was no wonder that your family picked him. You had worked with him enough to know that his personality was a bit much. Fitting to his quirk.

Your mother had insisted that you meet him for dinner, you were thankful she didn’t insist on attending with your father. At least you could try to pretend this was just a blind date and not the first official meeting that would end in you marrying someone you hardly knew.

There were very few things in your power so one way you decided to get your internal revenge was by dressing down for your first meeting. A part of you hoped he would be so unimpressed with you that he would back out and you would be free. Maybe if you had more time you could establish your own agency before they found another suitor.

The dinner was at one of, if not the nicest restaurant in town. You were certain sweat pants and a loose shirt were not to dress code but that was the point. You internally snickered at the look the hostess gave you as you told them you were here for a reservation under Bakugou.

Approaching the table you almost felt bad when you saw how nice Bakugou had dressed for the date.

“You’re dressed nice.” He comments sarcastically.

“Only the best for my betrothed.” You said giving a curtsy before sitting down. “Can’t say I’d ever imagined I’d be here with you.”

“I can say the same thing.” He said.

You ordered a drink, something strong to get you thought the night. Bakugou wasn’t your favorite person, granted you couldn’t say that you knew him very well but your interactions had always been tense at best.

“So why did you agree to this?” You questioned.

“I have a few reasons.” He said but you already knew he wasn’t going to elaborate.

The rest of the dinner was awkward. You discussed details of the process. It was very taboo arranging marriages in this day and age so it was to be kept secret. You would ‘date’ for a few months before planning the wedding. You have a few drinks ordered something expensive and left him with the bill going home to sulk about your new life ahead of you.

You hadn’t expected him to text you that night asking if you got home okay. You smirked at his dismissive response when you asked why he was worried about it.

Bakugou text you that week asking if you were free. You knew that for things to look normal you had to have the appearance of dating even if you would rather avoid him, enjoying the rest of your single life that was fading away quickly.

You figured he would take you out to dinner every once and a while and you would be done with it but he took the time to plan out dates. Taking you to the zoo, to festivals, even to amusement parks. It caught you off guard that everything he planned were things that you enjoyed doing. He would even get you little gifts that you loved, not that you would admit it.

Perhaps what surprised you the most was that he tried to get to know you. The great Bakugou Katsuki, arrogant, hostile, and explosive was taking the time to ask personal questions. You almost resented him for it but after a few dates you realized something.

As much as it gave you a sense of instant gratification to be rude or annoy him in the long run it would only hurt you both. If you had no choice but to marry him did you really want to shoot down his genuine attempts to start a relationship?

You supposed that was how you started to fall for him. When you took the time to answer him genuinely and ask him questions back you realized that he wasn’t the man you thought he was. Underneath all the attitude was a good man who cared and had a good sense of humor. Someone who had been formed by his childhood and the way his parents treated him and was trying to change that. Someone who wanted to be a good hero and help people.

There were even times that you could forget that you didn’t choose him. Sitting with him at dinner laughing at something stupid he said while he nearly pouts at you, how could you remember that this was set up?

It was a beautiful night, a perfect end to a lovely day with Bakugou. He had taken you to all your favorite places, you had eaten your favorite food and now you were in a beautiful part of the city. Lights sparkled around the two of you as you walked through a nice park.

The two of you stopped to take in the view, standing side by side, arms brushing against each other.

“I know that these aren’t normal circumstances but I was hoping today could make things feel a little more normal.” Bakugou said looking over at you before getting down on one knee, presenting a small velvet box to you.

The ring was beautiful, not what you expected. So many would go for the typical ring, silver, shiny with a big diamond on it showing off how expensive it was. But this was exactly your style. It was delicate and detailed with a unique gem, not showy or expensive but your favorite gem stone. Your breath caught in your throat as he stood, sliding the ring onto your finger.

“Bakugou, it’s perfect.” You nearly whispered.

“Call me Katsuki.” He said.

“Thank you, Katsuki.” You said looking up at him. How did he look so perfect in this light? His features so striking and soft at the same time, his red eyes boring into yours with emotion you hadn’t expected from him. When had you fallen so hard for this man? The man just months ago you couldn’t stand.

With his proposal the media went crazy and wedding planning began. It was easy to pretend that you and Bakugou were a normal couple before but with planning underway it was a reminder that this hadn’t been your choice. You were almost upset with yourself that you nearly didn’t care anymore.

Bakugou was good to you, he was considerate and respectful and sometimes it felt like he loved you. Not just the shallow love that many people had for each other but a real kind of love. The kind of love that meant you would do anything just to make sure the other person was happy.

You were at Bakugou’s place cooking together in the kitchen when he brought up a subject you had been hoping to avoid.

“You know, we’ve never kissed before. We’re getting married in a few weeks but no kissing.” He said.

“We’ll get to that at the wedding.” You said not looking away from the vegetables you were chopping, hoping he would drop the subject.

“Are you blushing?” You could hear the smirk in his voice without looking over.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” You turn to look at him with an annoyed look on your face.

“I know a flustered girl when I see one.” He teased. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You defended. Okay, you could admit that your future husband probably had some business with the topic but you were embarrassed and had been hoping to not bring it up and get it over with at the ceremony.

“Do you want to have your first kiss in front of a crowd?” He asked. “What if you bump your nose into mine? Or hit your teeth?”

Crap. You hadn’t considered the ways things could go wrong. Unfortunately he made a good point, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of who knows how many people. Your mother was relentless with the guest list. How many people could you invite to a wedding?

“Okay, you have a point.” You admitted. “I don’t know how to fix that.”

Bakugou looked at you like you weren’t getting something obvious.

In one quick movement Bakugou went from standing at your side to pushing you against the counter. Suddenly his tall, wide figure felt so imposing in front of yours with his red eyes intense. His hands held the counter behind you, caging you in. There was no escape. He leaned in slowly, your breath frozen in your chest.

“I can think of one way to fix it.” He said in a raspy tone, his lips near your ear. Your heart was pounding in your chest, cheeks burning. “If you’re interested.”

Just like that the topic of your first kiss was very interesting and something you wanted to address right away. You nodded softly, leaning in to him. He met you the rest of the way, one of his hands moving to you cheek preventing you from bumping him accidentally. You silently thanked him for helping you not make a fool of yourself, even if it was just the two of you. He tilted your head before pressing his lips against yours gently. A softness that months ago you would consider impossible for this man.

After a moment he leaned back with a satisfied grin on his lips. You looked at him with hazy eyes, surprised at how emotional you felt. How could one action make you feel so much closer to him?

“Thank you.” You whispered, eyes drifting back to his lips. A part of you wanted to lean in for another kiss but the other part of you wondered if that was too much. This was an arranged marriage and just because Bakugou had been nice to you it didn’t mean he felt that way about you.

As quickly as you felt close to him you now felt miles away. You stood up straight before going back to chopping vegetables. Just because you fell in love with Bakugou Katsuki didn’t mean that he felt the same way.

It was a week till the wedding. One part of you was thankful your mother was so overbearing, making all of the choices for the event. The other part of you, a smaller part wished you could have a small wedding with loved ones in a private place. That same part wished that the man you were marrying loved you back.

Bakugou had texted you asking if you could talk, normally that would make you nervous but you knew that it was probably just something about the wedding. So here you were at his apartment.

Bakugou opened the door, letting you in before leading you to the living room. You took a seat on the couch.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asked standing there.

“I’m good right now.” You answered. “What’s up?”

Bakugou let out a sigh before sitting down next to you. He ran his hands through his hair nervously before finally speaking.

“Do you want to cancel the wedding?” He asked.

Your heart dropped. Did he not like you so much that he was ready to back out of the contract. No doubt he knew the repercussions, your parents were ruthless they would drag his name through the mud. The worst part was him asking made you realize that you did want to marry him.

“Even if I did want to I don’t have a choice.” You admitted. You never explained how your parents had forced you into this.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“If I don’t marry you my parents will kick me out of the family agency, denounce me in public make it impossible for me to get another job much less not drop to the bottom of the ranks. All my hero dreams gone.” You explained.

An emotion you didn’t recognize flashed across his face before he let out another sigh.

“Your parents approached me, offered me the opportunity to marry you, promised that they would help me in the ranks and my agency.” He said. “That’s not why I agreed, I have no interest in help. I don’t need it. They threatened something similar with me if I didn’t agree.”

It was sad, a part of you wasn’t even shocked that they had forced Bakugou into this too. Your parents had a lot of influence it wasn’t a joke.

“I’m sorry, they’re awful people.” You said as you looked down.

“They don’t scare me, they might be powerful but I’m a top ten hero, I was mentored by All Might, all of my friends are pro heroes, I have my own influence.” He said. “The reason I agreed was you.”

“Me?” You questioned looking up in confusion.

“I’ve always liked you, wanted to get to know you but you never gave me the time of day. I know that this wasn’t the best circumstances but I don’t regret getting to spend this time with you, to really get to know you.” He said. “I never intended on going through with the wedding unless you were one hundred percent okay with it.”

“Katsuki I-” You started but he cut you off.

“I love you, it was too easy to fall in love.” He said. “I care about you more than anything. I don’t want you to feel forced into anything. Back out of the contract, work at my agency, and I’ll make sure your reputation doesn’t suffer.”

“Katsuki.” You said quietly, tears welling in your eyes. He loved you. “Katsuki, I love you too. We could just save the trouble and get married, if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe them anything, I don’t want you to feel trapped.” He said. “I want to propose again and make it feel perfect, not like it was expected because of a contract.”

Not only did he love you but he was willing to risk himself to free you form your parents grasp. Tears spilled down your cheeks and you nearly tackled him as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Katsuki.” You sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, princes.” He said as he wrapped his arms around you. “Anything.”

Bakugou did as he promised. His team at his agency was able to compile all the evidence that your parents had forced you into this contract. He gave you a job that you enjoyed far more than working at your parents agency. He even promised to help you start your own agency if that was what you wanted to do. Your parents were torn apart in the media, losing almost all of their power and influence.

You were free. Not only were you free but you had Bakugou. You moved in together, loving the time that you spent with him in and out of work. Bakugou proposed again, making it even more special than the first time. You had a feeling it was coming when you couldn’t find your ring.

You had the wedding you wanted, small and with close friends and family in a secluded destination far away from the city.

Marrying Bakugou had felt like the worst thing that could happen to you at first but as you walked down the aisle towards him dressed in a nice black suit it was hard to imagine you could ever feel that way.

Bakugou Katsuki was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write

[lucifersresources]

as always, feel free to alter/change pronouns/etc to fit!

look alive, sunshine/na na na.

" the future is bulletproof. "

" the aftermath is secondary. "

" i'll take what i want from your heart. "

" keep your apology. "

" kiss me you animal. "

" everybody wants to change the world. "

" no one wants to die. "

" make no apology. "

" it's death or victory. "

" crash and burn, young and loaded. "

" i'd rather go to hell than be in purgatory. "

" let this world explode. "

bulletproof heart.

" i'm who i've got to be. "

" these pigs are after me. "

" run away, like it was yesterday. "

" i got a bulletproof heart. "

" got a photograph dream on the getaway mile. "

" let's blow a hole in this town. "

" everybody knows you don't ever wanna come back. "

" let me be the one to save you. "

" i'm shooting out of this room. "

" i sure don't like the company. "

" stop your preaching right there, coz i really don't care. "

" get me out of my head. "

" i know how much you hate this. "

" are you gonna be the one to save us? "

" will you mean it when the end comes reeling? "

" hold your heart into this darkness. "

" i ain't gonna be the one left standing. "

" this world is after me. "

sing.

" you've got to be what tomorrow needs. "

" use your voice every single time you open up your mouth. "

" sing about everyone that you left behind. "

" you've got to make a choice. "

" raise your voice every single time they try and shut your mouth. "

" sell it till your last days. "

" buy yourself a motivation. "

" generation nothing, nothing but a dead scene. "

" wrote it for the ones who want to get away. "

" keep running. "

planetary (GO!)

" if my velocity starts to make you sweat then just don't let go. "

" heaven ain't got a vacancy. "

" truth is now acceptable. "

" fame is now injectable. "

" faith is unavailable. "

" i can't slow down, i won't be waiting for you. "

" i won't be waiting for you. "

" i can't stop now. "

" this planet's ours to defend. "

" ain't got no time to pretend. "

" don't fuck around, this is our last chance. "

" just leave the party with me and never go home. "

" you ruin everything. "

" let's ruin everything. "

" (this is) the sound of my vendetta against the ones who planned it. "

" you keep eternity. "

" we're taking back control. "

" light up the effigy. "

" take the money and run. "

" i've got nothing to lose, you've got nothing to say. "

" i think i better go now. "

the only hope for me is you.

" remember me. "

" where will you stand when all the lights go out? "

" where were you when all of the embers fell? "

" i still remember them covered in ash. "

" i still think of all the bombs they build. "

" if there's a place that i could be, then i'd be another memory. "

" can i be the only hope for you? "

" you're the only hope for me. "

" we'll have to make it on our own. "

" face all the pain, and take it on. "

" what have we learned? "

" what have we learned? other than people burn in purifying flame. "

" though you can see me smile i still think of the guns they sell. "

" the only hope for me is you alone. "

jet-star & the kobra kid/traffic report & party poison.

" keep your gun close. "

" die with your mask on if you've got to. "

" everybody pay attention to me. "

" i got the answer. "

" hide your eyes. "

" we're gonna shine tonight. "

" i gotta shout this out so everybody knows. "

" this ain't a party. "

" here comes the gang war. "

" we'd be killing ourselves by sleeping in. "

" ain't nobody gonna take my life. "

" ain't nobody gonna get the best of me. "

save yourself, i'll hold them back.

" i'm coming for you now. "

" i hope you're ready for a firefight. "

" the devil's got your number. "

" we're never leaving this place alive. "

" we'll never die. "

" get off the ledge and drop the knife. "

" not a victim of a victim's life. "

" this ain't a room full of suicide. "

" we're believers, i believe tonight. "

" we can leave this world, leave it all behind. "

" we can live forever if you've got the time. "

" save yourself tonight. "

" i'll tell you all how the story ends. "

" the good guys die and the bad guys win. "

" this ain't about all the friend you made but the graffiti they write on your grave. "

" salute the dead and lead the fight. "

" who gives a damn if we lose the war? "

" let the walls come down, let the engines roar. "

" i'm the only friend that makes you cry. "

" you're a heart attack in black hair dye. "

" save yourself, i'll hold them back tonight. "

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.

" make a wish when your childhood dies. "

" we're all alone tonight. "

" hold your breath. "

" i'll keep you safe inside. "

" never mind about the shape i'm in. "

" leave a dream where the fallout lies. "

" love won't stop this bomb. "

summertime.

" when the lights go out, will you take me with you? "

" will you take me with you and carry all this broken bone? "

" you pick me off the ground. "

" if you stay, i would even wait all night. "

" i would even wait all night, or until my heart explodes. "

" how long till we find our way in the dark and out of harm? "

" you can run away with me. "

" you can run away with me anytime you want. "

" terrified of what i'd be. "

" people try and put the pieces back together, just to smash them down. "

" you stopped the noise. "

" don't walk away. "

the kids from yesterday.

" this could be the last of all the rides we take. "

" hold on tight and don't look back. "

" we don't care about the message or the rules they make. "

" i'll find you when the sun goes black. "

" you only live forever in the lights you make. "

" when we were young we used to say that you only hear the music when your heart begins to break. "

" you only hear the music when your heart begins to break. "

" are are the kids from yesterday. "

" they only care if you can bleed. "

" here we are and we won't stop breathing. "

" yell it out till your heart stops beating. "

vampire money.

" we came to fuck. "

" sing it like the kids that are mean to you. "

" kids don't care if you're alright, honey. "

" pills don't help. "

" gimme some of that vampire money. "

" you look like somebody i used to know. "

" get your finger on the trigger. "

we don't need another song about california.

" give up or give it a shot. "

" money's all you got. "

" stop and stare at the accidents and stars that bore you. "

" we don't dare to sing another song for california. "

" everybody hears but no one needs to try. "

" fake your life. "

" the city lights are hopeless for you. "

zero percent.

" i don't like being alone. "

" synthetic animals like me never have a home. "

" i'm not the one you will be walking through. "

" if you kill him for me, well, then i'll kill him for you. "

" kill him for me. "

" i'll meet you down at the metro station. "

" i'm gonna show you how much i love you. "

" i hope you die. "

" if heaven wants to take us they can try. "

" i'm so glad right now. heartbreak, heartbeats got the eyes on you. "

" i got something to prove. "

" i got a knack for elimination. "

[therealvalkyrie]

What Could’ve Been Without the War

Pairing/setting: Jean Kirschtein x Female!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls, set after the War; canon divergent w/ modern tech

Summary: You and Jean embark on your weekly trip to the grocery store.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: equal parts angst and fluff, idiots to idiots, mutual pining, unsatisfying ending (i’m so sorry)

AN: Surprise Jean! I hope you are all having a wonderful Friday evening and that I don’t ruin it too much with angst. This piece started out as a super fluffy drabble involving grocery store shenanigans and kinda....uh....got away from me. Ahem. It was also originally intended as a 157 follower cool prime number thank you! I think we’re up to 180-something now, but we can still count it. Big thanks yet again to the love of my life @ghostlightprincess for her edits and encouragements:) Please come let me know what you think in my DMs/askbox/comments!!  ~valkyrie

Jean opens on the third knock on his apartment door, already shrugging on a jacket. He greets you with a short “hi” and receives the kiss you plant on his cheek out of habit.

“You ready?” You’re practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, car keys jingling off of the magenta key ring looped around your finger. It’s cute, and he finds himself matching your enthusiasm with a grin of his own.

“Almost,” he replies, reaching back to his coat rack to grab a scarf. “Honestly, I still don’t understand why you’re always so excited for the grocery store.”

He looks back to catch you rolling your eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re not. A grocery store is a magical place, with all of the cheesecake and ice cream you could ever wish for!”

He chuckles and joins you in the hallway, leaning down to lock his door behind him. “Need I remind you that you’re lactose intolerant?”

“That’s what Lactaid is for, stupid. Come on!” He lets you pull him down the hall, your small gloved hand in his big one. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Croft!” you greet his elderly neighbor as you pass her open door, sticking your head in with a wide smile. “You need anything from the store? Jean and I are just on our way.”

Jean stands beside you awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with his shrewd neighbor. You haven’t let go of his hand and he can feel a blush working its way up his neck. 

“No, that’s alright, honey, I just went this morning.”

“Okay! Well, let us know if you think of anything!”

“Thank you, dear.”

“Have a good afternoon, ma’am,” Jean chips in as you wave. 

“You kids have fun.”

The next second, you’re pulling him away again and he misses the way Mrs. Croft chuckles knowingly and looks back to her knitting. 

—

“What’s next on the list?” Your voice drifts down the aisle back to him, and Jean pauses in pushing the cart to shuffle the papers in his hands. 

“Umm… AP flour, vanilla extract,” shuffle, shuffle, “brown sugar, olive oil, yeast.”

You hum in acknowledgment and he watches as you flit from shelf to shelf, gathering items in your arms. He pushes the cart up to join you.

You dump everything in haphazardly, and he sighs, leaning down to straighten it all out into categories.

“What’s next?” You’re already halfway down the rest of the aisle again, gazing up longingly at the Oreos on the top shelf.

God, she’s cute.

He joins you, reaches up to pluck a pack of Double Stuf off of the shelf, and wordlessly places it in your section of the cart, suppressing a smile of his own as you grin up at him.

“You sure know how to treat a girl right, Jean-bo.” You reach up to ruffle his mullet. 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles, ducking away and flushing red like a smitten schoolboy. “Next is the frozen aisle.”

—

“Was it the lasagna that she liked last time? Or the shepherd’s pie?”

“The lasagna.” He accepts three frozen dinners as you pass them over from where you’re leaning past the glass freezer door.

“Hey,” he looks up sharply at your soft call to see you staring down the aisle like you’ve seen a ghost, hand still holding the glass door open. He follows your gaze and sees him just as you say, “It’s Erwin.”

It’s not, but Jean’s heart twists all the same at the resemblance the stranger carries. Same neatly parted blonde hair, broad shoulders. But he’s shorter, still has both arms. And he’s alive. 

“It’s not, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reaching to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“It is, look he—” you insist until the man turns and instead of the Commander’s piercing blue gaze you’re met with brown eyes that flick between you and Jean in confusion. “Oh.” Your face falls and you allow the door to close, turning into Jean’s side.

“You alright?” He tilts his head to catch your expression. It’s pure pain, mouth twitching into a frown and eyes unfocused. Your hand comes up to grip the bottom of his jacket, and after a second he can see you physically force your face back to neutral. 

“Fine,” you nod. He knows you’re faking, that it’s a survival tactic, so he lets it go for now, only steps back to let you in between his body and the cart. 

“Up you go,” he prompts you to step up, feet on the bottom shelf and hands clutching the bar. He starts to push as you ride, walking first then running down the aisle until you finally throw your head back and laugh genuinely. 

He misses the exasperated look an employee gives him as the pair of you whizz past, too preoccupied with your smile.

—

“What do you need three dozen eggs for, anyway?” you ask incredulously, nevertheless opening each carton to inspect before handing them over. 

“They’re a good source of protein,” he defends. “Plus, you always end up running out and coming to me to complain. Ran me dry last time.”

Another playful eye roll. “It’s only ‘cause I messed up my brownies! And I needed them to entice the landlord to finally fix my heater.”

“Your heater’s been broken?”

“Well, it’s not anymore. Espresso brownies work wonders, I’ll have you know.”

You’re trying to brush it off as you normally do when he worries, but the thought of you shivering and blue-lipped keeps him pushing. “How long did you not have heat for? It’s February!”

“Not the point, Jean-bo!” You poke at his cheek and twirl away towards the cheese. 

“It definitely is the point. Come to me next time and I’ll fix it.”

“And lose my deposit?” You scoff, reaching for mozzarella. “Fat chance.”

“Freeze, then.”

You grin back at him. “Why d’you think I came over so much last weekend?”

“Is that all I am to you? A hot water bottle in your time of need?” He feigns hurt, but some pride swells in his chest that he kept you warm, after all. 

“And a cute one, at that. Think fast!”

His hand flashes up to catch the mozzarella you toss deftly. 

“You wound me.”

“Eh, builds character. What’s next?”

Shuffle, shuffle. “Wine and flowers.”

—

Jean watches as you bounce in the driver’s seat, hands almost dainty on the wheel, leaning forward to stare resolutely out the windshield at the darkening road. You’re singing along to some song he doesn’t know that’s playing from the stereo.

It’s so familiar, this Saturday evening ritual with you, and it wraps Jean up like the softest blanket. He knows why you’re always so excited about grocery shopping, and it’s not the cheesecake — it’s the way this routine has centered itself in both your lives. He feels it too, the semblance of normalcy, of domesticity, that you’ve cobbled together with him in between hard weeks and harder nights.

You navigate the bends and odd intersections of his old suburban neighborhood with ease, having driven to his house maybe thousands of times since you were teens. The elementary school passes, then the vet clinic, until finally, your old black sedan pulls into his mom’s driveway alongside her silver minivan.

You shift to neutral and yank on the parking brake habitually, then turn off the car and settle back into your seat.

You’re both quiet for a moment: you staring out the window lost in thought, Jean checking the time on his phone.

“Jean?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever regret enlisting so young?” This catches his attention, turning sharply to look at your contemplative profile.

“Never. It was the right thing to do.” He’s resolute in this conviction, always. The War had seemed to be at its worst when you’d joined up, driven by the promise of Wall Maria’s reclamation and impassioned by your comrades’ fury. It had been the only choice, in his view.

“I do, sometimes,” you admit quietly, eyes downcast to where your fingers twist in your lap. “Maybe then my head wouldn’t be so messed up,” you laugh dryly and tap your temple, then shoot him a sideways glance. “And maybe—” you cut yourself off.

“Maybe what?”

“Never mind.” You’re out of the car so fast Jean almost questions if you moved at all. It reminds him of your natural grace on the ODM gear, how you’d whoop and holler as you hurtled past him among the trees during training. He wonders for a moment when your agility turned from a source of joy to an escape mechanism, then stops himself. He knows exactly when that happened.

—

The grocery store tulips thankfully survived their ordeal in the trunk of your car, bright against Ma Kirschtein’s tile kitchen backsplash as you arrange them in her favorite vase. After a minute of fussing, you take a step back, give a nod of satisfaction, and scoop up the trimmed stems off the counter. The rest of the groceries are already put away, organized so she can reach them without trouble.

It’s as you’re stepping on the trash can pedal to open its lid that the voices from the living room catch your ear. You pause, smiling as mother and son converse.

“Have you been eating enough, Jean-bo? You look so skinny….”

“Ma, I—”

“What am I saying, of course you haven’t. You’d waste away to nothing if you were left to your own devices. I’m so glad that darling girl is there to look after you.”

“Ma, she’s not my keeper—”

“When are you two getting married, again? I could’ve sworn I wrote it down in my book, but I looked the other day and couldn’t find the date anywhere.” She sounds serious. Confused, even, not a hint of teasing in her tone. Must be an off day. A symptom of her early-onset dementia.

“Ma, we’re not even together.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been together since high school.” She’s so convinced, so sure, and you squeeze your eyes tight against the reality that you and Jean have only ever been friends. In the adolescent insecurity of high school, in the intensity of military training, in the fucking heat of battle, all you’ve ever shared is friendship.

“Ma, I don’t think… I don’t even think she—” He pauses and your ears strain in the silence to catch his last quiet phrase. “She doesn’t think of me that way.”

You just know, you can tell, he only says it like that to ease her confusion. It’s the opposite, really, he doesn’t think of you that way. Before you can hear more sideways rejection, you toss the flower stems and make a beeline for the bathroom.

—

“What was that movie you were telling me to watch, again?” You ask around a mouthful of spaghetti with sauce fresh from the jar, covering your mouth with one hand.

The pair of you are eating shoulder-to-shoulder on the floor of your apartment two floors above Jean’s. It’s got the decidedly better view out your picture window, complete with the perfect Eastern perspective of the river that cuts through Trost and its famous bridges. It’s this, the third leg of your traditional Saturday evenings together, that makes you feel the most warm.

Jean has the manners to chew and swallow before replying. “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? Connie, Sasha, and I went to see it when they visited last month—”

Your snicker cuts him off and he raises his eyebrows as you roll your eyes and take a sip of wine. “The feet movie? Sasha said it was pretentious.”

“Really? I thought she was too preoccupied with the fact that the theater sold chili fries to pay attention.” He teases back, twirling more pasta onto his fork.

“I’m telling her you said that,” you warn with a jab of your own fork in his direction.

“Snitch.”

“Hey!”

He ducks to avoid your swat to the back of his head, grinning at your pout. “No, but seriously, apart from the feet it’s a good movie.”

“Hmm. I’ll consider putting it on the roster for next week.”

You take a moment to relish the comfortable silence, looking out at the city lights as you chew thoughtfully. His thigh is heavy and warm against yours under the thick knitted blanket his mom gave you last Yule. Your belly is warm and full, your shoulders relaxed in the company of your closest friend, your lungs breathing easily.

Jean says your name quietly and you turn to see him staring pensively down at the plate in his lap. “About what you asked earlier… in the car?”

You nod, eyes wide and mouth serious.

“Sometimes… I do regret it.” He grits the words out through his teeth, like it’s difficult to force the truth into the world. “Not because I regret what we did in the War. But because sometimes I wonder,” his eyes cut to yours for a split second, “I wonder what could’ve been. Without the War.”

You don’t say anything, don’t say you understand, because you know he knows. Instead, you loop your arm into his and lean your head against his shoulder. It takes a moment, a release of breath and the fall of his chest, but eventually he closes his eyes, turns his face into your hair, and allows himself to sink into the what could’ve been. Just for now.

[the-lady-of-stars]

In Another Life

Fives x Jedi ! Reader

Requested by: @marvel-starwars-nerd​ and an anon (I combined your prompts, hope thats okay!)  “I don’t want this to end” and “Whatever you do don’t cry, because if you cry I’ll start crying too”

A/N: Sorry in advance, troopers.

A traitor to the Republic. That’s what they’d called him. They had said that Fives was conspiring against them, accusing the Kaminoans of planting chips in the clones’ brains to control them.

The chip, which Fives had broken protocol to remove from Tup, was called an ‘inhibitor chip’ by the Kaminoans. Something to keep them from adopting Fett’s strong will and violence. Fives insisted otherwise, leading you to this very moment on the lower levels of Coruscant.

With Anakin and Rex by your side you slowly edged into the darkened warehouse, calling out for Fives as you went. The lightsaber ignited in your hands was merely standard protocol. You knew that Fives would never hurt you, but the Republic branding him as a dangerous individual meant you had to keep up the act. The excuse of Fives being your boyfriend wasn’t exactly something that could be put on the reports.

The deeper you went into the building, the more you could sense him. The force signiature coming off of Fives was something you would normally bask in and draw peace from, but not today. He radiated nothing but fear, anger and mistrust, still not showing himself to you and your companions. The boys all knew about the relationship between you and Fives. He wasn’t quite the most secretive man in the galaxy, and had the tendency to brag.

Anakin, clearly sensing the pure worry and unease radiating from you, sent you a reasurring look, although it never met his eyes.

“Fives,” you called out, trying to pinpoint his location. “It’s okay, we’re not here to hurt you. Just come out, everything will be okay.”

“Thank you, thank you for trusting me,” Fives’ voice echoed through the crate-filled warehouse, making it hard to figure out where it had come from. The three of you span slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the rogue trooper. His voice was shaky, the notes wavering in his throat. “Have you come without troops?” He insisted, too nervous to keep his fear hidden.

“We have,” Anakin reassured, voice steady so as not to startle Fives.

“Put down your weapons then!” Fives sounded frantic, like a loth cat cornered by hungry varactyls. You felt your heart twist at the notion that your own boyfriend felt the need to defend himself against you, his brother and his friend.

Anakin, casting aside emotion to stick to military protocol, denied Fives’ request, still slightly on edge about his accusations about the Jedi and the chips.

“Please sir, please- I’m unarmed,” Fives pleaded. You turned to find Rex and Anakin both with expressions of sorrow that matched your own.

With a nod, Anakin sheathed his saber, and Rex set his pistols down on a nearby crate. You copied them, attaching your saber to its hilt at your belt.

“What are we here for, Fives?” Anakin pressed, knowing that every moment they wasted was a moment the Coruscant Guard gained on them, and he knew they wouldn’t be as willing to accomodate.

“I need your help,” he called, desperation thick in his words.

Anakin reassured the trooper that he was here to help, telling Fives that he understood he ‘wasn’t well.’ Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say, as Fives suddenly became upset, voice raising.

“I’m not crazy! Please- just hear what I have to say,” he begged, voice growing clearer, allowing you to pinpoint him behind two stacks of crates.

With one last shared look, the three of you drew closer to Fives’ location. Before you could reach him, Fives entrapped you all in a ray shield, then finally emerged once he knew you couldn’t harm him.

Anakin, knowing this wouldn’t do Fives any good once the Coruscant Guard arrived, slammed his fist against the shield in anger. He already knew how low the chances were for his friend, the Kaminoans were fond of reconditioning for even the slightest misbehaviour, but this would only serve to make things ten times worse.

“I just need you to listen to me,” Fives reassured, raising his empty hands to show that he meant no harm. “Please!” he cried out.

“I’m not really sure we have any other choice!” Anakin snapped, worry for Fives turning into anger due to his lack of control in the situation.

Fives’ voice broke, almost whimpering as he yelled “I was framed- because I know the truth! The truth about a plot- a massive deception!”

Fives’ body was shaking, arms restless as he panicked, pacing fearfully, clutching his head and tensing his fists. He looked wildly overwhelmed, almost in pain at how he couldn’t get anyone to believe him.

“There’s a sinister plot,” he shouted, “in the works, against the Jedi! I have proof of it! I can prove- that everything that I know is true beyond a shadow of a doubt!”

“Fives, please-” you tried to speak calmly but you were nearly in tears over seeing your Fives like this, your voice trembling. His eyes raced from side to side, peeled wide in terror, desperation in every breath he took.

Anakin interrupted you, voice stern. “Show me the evidence.”

Fives dug his fingers back into his head, as though he were trying to rip the thoughts out of his brain. Pink marks crowned his head from the way he was scratching into it.

“The evidence- it’s- it’s in here-” Fives pointed aggressively at his brain, fully aware that the Kaminoans had injected him with something to make him lose his memories before he could speak to the Chancellor. His eyes held nothing but devastation, gleaming with unshed tears and pain. “It’s in all of us!” he recalled, desperately trying to explain, “every clone!”

“What is it?” Rex pushed, trying to extract clear words from his brother.

“Organic chips- built into our genetic code,” Fives said, defeat swallowing up his voice. He leaned exhausted to rest on a stack of crates, pressing his arm and forehead against them. “To make us do whatever someone wants.” Fives felt powerless in that moment. The Republic had always made him feel like a pawn, but this was the first time Fives truly understood what his older brothers meant when they spoke about being nothing but property. What difference could one clone make, especially one who had the entire coruscant guard and a Jedi on the hunt for him. “Even kill the Jedi. It’s all in here-” he repeated in a frenzy, poking his head again and again.

Anakin scowled, not believing Fives’ words. You turned to look at Rex, seeing how upset he looked. He ran his hand over his hair in stress, sending you a dejected look when he caught your gaze.

“Let’s just get you some help first then we can review everything,” Anakin spoke, trying to deescalate the situation. “It’ll be okay, Fives, we’ll sort this out.” Anakin said the words as though nothing major were happening, as if everything was fine.

Fives finally reached his limit, feeling shattered at the lack of understanding.

“You don’t believe me!” he howled.

“Fives,” Rex tried to soothe him, brotherly instinct overwhelming him. “We are listening to you. We only want to help.”

“How do I know you’re not tricking me?” Fives asked rapidly. “How do I know it won’t be a trap?”

You couldn’t stand back and listen any more.

“Fives, please, look at me. You know for a fact that not one of us would lay a finger on you. We all care about you Fives, and we want to hear everything you have to say. I mean it. We’ll listen,” you pleaded with him, pressing one hand up against the ray shield.

Fives shakily stumbled forward, lifting a trembling hand to press it against where yours lay on the other side of the shield. He looked deep into your eyes, the look he gave you making you want to sweep him away and hold him for the rest of your life. You wished more than anything that you could take him away from all of this. Why did it have to be your Fives getting caught up in this mess. If only you could take him to some outer-rim planet where you would never be found, and soothe all of his worries with tender kisses and soft spoken words.

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

“Princess?”

“Yeah, Fives?”

“You ever thought about after the war?”

“What about it?”

You lay secure on Fives’ chest in your bed, resting your eyes as he swept patterns into the skin of your back.

“What you’d like life to be like, I mean. Like, I d’uno, a family maybe?”

Maybe you were just tired, but you were sure you could detect a hint of hopefulness in his words.

“A family, huh? Yeah, I s’pose have. Is that something you’d like?”

“Y-yeah,” Fives felt himself flush. Get it together, trooper. “W-with you, I mean. Maybe a kid or two if you want. We could have a little house out on Naboo. It could be in the countryside. We could go swimming in the waterfalls. I’m sure General Skywalker could set us up with a place. Get- get married maybe?” Fives subtly wiped his sweaty palms on the sheets, hoping you wouldn’t notice how nervous the proposition made him.

“I’d like that.”

He let out a sigh.

“I’d like that a lot.”

If you had secretly been awake when Fives had whispered “gn’a make you my wife,” he didn’t need to find out.

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

Fives gasped, thinking about what would happen if the clones were ordered to take out the Jedi. Even the brief thought of him mindlessly shooting you caused him to jolt back. He began to explain how he thought everything linked back to the Chancellor, how every part of his intuition told him to believe it.

“He’s capable of it, I swear to you, General,” he tried to reason with Anakin, but before he could get another word in the Coruscant Guard leapt out from behind some crates, pointing their blasters at Fives.

Calls of “stand down, trooper” and “get on your knees” rang through the building. You watched in horror as Fives turned his gaze to Rex’s abandoned pistols.

“Fives, no- stop!” you screamed, but it was too late.

He lunged for the pistols, clutching one with a yell of “get away from me!”

Then silence, deafening silence. Your vision turned to slow-motion as Commander Fox fired a shot square into Fives’ chest. You felt a cry escape your throat but never heard it, feeling like you were about to faint.

Fives collapsed, hitting the ground in a position which allowed you to see the large short-range blaster shot staining the pure white duraplast of his armour. Rex beat his hands against the barrier, desperatley trying to break through to hold his brother. The second a member of the Guard shot the shield down you fell to your knees at his side, Rex at your side.

“Fives,” you sobbed, tears flowing freely. You reached over to cup his cheek, bringing his gaze to look at you. Fives was dazed, feeling the life force drain from him as he bled out on the duracrete floor. The blood loss began to make him dizzy, his thoughts no longer focused on the conspiracy, turning to you instead. You were crying. His girl was crying and he wasn’t doing anything about it. He’d always hated seeing you cry.

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

“Hey, Princess, I’m hom- woah, woah, woah-” Fives froze, startled by the image of you curled up in a ball on the floor leaning against your bed while crying your eyes out. He immediately ran over, sliding to his knees by your side. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he cooed, reaching to pull your hands from your eyes. He felt his heart tighten at the sight of your reddened eyes, the tears clinging to your eyelashes. “Oh, shhh,” he soothed, bringing you into his chest as you sobbed wildly. Fives sat and rocked you gently in his arms until your sobs slowed into hiccups and gasps, murmuring sweet nothings tenderly into your ear.

“Feelin’ better?” he spoke softly, punctuating his question with a kiss to your cheek.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, leaning into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

“That’s my girl. You’re okay, Princess. I’ve got you. I’ll always take care of you I swear. Now, make a promise for me?”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to state his promise.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t cry alone ever again. Next time you need to cry, come find me or send me a quick comm and I swear I’ll be right there to hold you. Promise?”

You smiled lovingly, “promise.”

“Thas’ my girl.”

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

“H-hey- hey, don’t you go crying on me now, pretty thing. ‘Cos if you cry I’ll start cryin’, you hear me?”

This only made you weep harder, clutching at his shoulder.

“Fives, no, no- don’t do this. Don’t. You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be fine. I’m here, Rex is here, we’ve got you,” your voice shook heavily as you barely managed to get the words out between choked sobs.

Fives chuckled after a gasp, shooting a beaming smile in your direction.

“C’mon, you’re a clever girl. You and I both know this is the end of the line for me. I’m not gonna be here too much longer, Princess, but you remember that promise you made me, yeah? When I’m gone, you’re not gonna spend your time cryin’ over me. You’re gonna go find a friend, someone you trust, and cry it out with them so they can look after you. Okay?”

You burst into tears again, unable to respond to him.

“I’ll look after her, vod. I swear it, you have my word. We’ll look after eachother,” Rex choked, tears flowing down his face. He reached over and grasped his brother’s hand tightly, squeezing it in reassurance.

Fives smiled, a look of peace overcoming him at the thought of his girl and his brother looking out for eachother when he wasn’t there to do it himself.

“Thas’ good. Mmm. Good.” Fives blinked, finding the idea of sinking into the darkness more and more tempting every second.

“Fives, no, don’t go. Please- I don’t want this to end. I love you, I love you so much Fives, please don’t leave me!”

Fives mustered up all the energy he had left to grin at you, the cheeky grin that showed off his teeth he’d always give you when he’d make fun of you.

“I love you too, Princess. I always will. I’m sorry I have to go, but I promise I’ll see you again some day. Even in another life, I’ll find you. You’ll always be my girl.”

And with that, Fives slipped away, succumbing to the peace that was sinking into his heart. He’d find you again. In another life.

[accio-victuuri]

The GG & Li-Ning & Xianjiang Cotton Situation

I was asked to give my opinion. This is also for other bxgs who may have the same sentiment. You don’t have to agree with me but i hope you respect whatever it is I choose to share here. This is my blog and my space. I maintain this out of my pure enjoyment of the fandom and all the good it has given me. So let me address some of the points.

Li-Ning boasts their use of XinJiang Cotton

My simple answer here is, of course they will. This is not something new. Li-Ning is a celebrated olympic medal winning gymnast. A billionaire. You don’t get to that place in CHN w/out supporting the government’s agenda. In this case, that there is no injustice and persecution going on in Xinjiang. This brand, boasting about China made cotton, in their terms, shows patriotism and support for their country. This brand’s literal goal at first was to provide a local brand for Chinese athletes to wear in the Olympics. This is also not the first time that Li-Ning had been called out along w/ other international brands due to questionable ethical practices.

I find it very hard to believe that the timing of GG’s massive Li-Ning ad campaign, coinciding as it has with these Western brand boycotts, was a coincidence.

Let’s get this out of the way. Whether the boycott happened or not, Li-Ning is guaranteed an insane amount of sales because they hired Xiao Zhan. This is the same man who always sells out products in seconds. Who took KXZ to 200% growth and so on. I can talk about stats all day but this massive campaign for him is a no brainer. GG is expensive and a guaranteed success. Any brand who hires him will be stupid to not launch an all out campaign across all cities. Li-Ning knows what they are doing by hiring him. For years, they have been trying to appeal to Gen Z. Especially now that youth in CHN are more and more into the “guochao” (国潮) - National trend. Integrating traditional chinese culture and fashion w/ domestic brands. This ties in with the whole movement of erasing the connotation that made in china is of inferior quality. GG was a good choice. He appeals to the younger generation (19-25) and the working class ( 26 and up ) who buys goods. I would imagine even GG’s team did their research and knows this trend is going on too. This will not be the last you will see of this type of endorsement from him or Web. The rumors on this collaboration was going around as early as, March 15 I think? I was literally asking another bxg if GG’s ad will be pushed back a day or two because of what was happening. or what will this all implies. He was always gonna come out and endorse this brand boycott or not.

I am not removing the possibility that these local brands have a hand in the boycott. It’s a very valid concern. or that, it was a convenient perfect storm for them. A perfect storm of EU, US & CAN sanctioning CHN. The sudden attack on brands’ statements against Xinjiang cotton from a year ago. The whole agenda of controlling the people’s view on what is happening. All of these are connected. sure. There are many things behind the scenes that we will not know but we can make an educated guess of. Li-Ning is not the only domestic brand that had a positive push because of this.

On 3/25 Li-Ning’s stock closed with a high of 10.74% , plus an added 9% on the 26th when GG was announced as ambassador. The same thing happened with Anta and others.

I find it very hard to stomach seeing Li-Ning ads on my dash, regardless of GG’s presence in them. Without condemning him for taking this endorsement deal, and without judging what he is or is not personally aware

I will just be addressing GG’s alleged part in all this. I say that cause we don’t live in his brain and won’t know what he’s thinking. You can all try and project your values on him but he is a whole person of his own. I have hopefully given some view on why GG accepted to endorse this brand in the previous point. GG has spent most if not all, of his life in China. He has repeatedly said that he was brought up traditionally. Tho his father was very encouraging in him participating in the arts and widening his knowledge. He had Foreign professors at CBTU. He is part of the generation that knows what’s going on outside by using the internet. He’s smart. I would guess that he is aware of the country he is living in vs what it’s like outside of it. But at the end of the day, his loyalty will always be with his country. I hate to break it to you all but he will continue to live and thrive as an Actor even without international support. Tho it is great that he is a source of National Pride with how people outside of China love him.

Now, about his support for Xianjiang Cotton. I wanna start by showing this:

It’s a post from People’s Daily wb which boasts all the c-ent top stars that voiced their support of XJ cotton. The sense is, hey people look at your idols supporting the cause. Look at their Patriotism. What do you think will happen if GG was not on this list? Knowing that he is a top star in CHN. Knowing he was just in hot waters post 22*? Knowing that he is actively being endorsed in CCTV which is a National Channel. Are we still surprised that he posted that support? I was just honestly waiting for him to post if anything. I talked before about how C-ent celebrities are expected ( and actually it’s in their law ) to be more morally upright than the lay people. This is prime example of that.

Another one is this from CCTV Wb. I’m including this for you all to have an understanding of how this whole thing is being played out in CHN. This is the type of online narrative that is going around and I would think GG is seeing. The sentiment is,

“No matter what hardships, ups and downs and blows go through in our country, her people will always come from all directions and stand up to speak justice and do just things.”

It’s also showing all the hot searches that is related in support of XJ cotton and defending CHN’s innocence.

Also this video that was heavily circulated showing mechanized picking of cotton vs the allegations of manual.

This is the kind of narrative that is going around, as expected. I don’t really fault GG or condemn him for doing what is best for him. What is the best for an individual does not always mean it’s the best for all. In talks like this, I always try and put myself in their position. I mean, who the hell are these people trying to attack my country? the country that has provided for me. I wanna say I understand where they are coming from but understanding does not mean agreeing. I see these A LOT. ALOT ON WEIBO. The China vs. Everyone story. It’s the notion of, they are attacking us and we must protect the country. Also keep in mind that news is heavily regulated.

You know what type of news the CCP would love for them to get a hold of? The rising attacks on Asians in the US. Oh boy they would fuckin love that! Making America the big/bad asian-hating boogeyman in the eyes of their people yet again.

Okay, now we’re down to the final part of this. Why do I share the promo pics for Li-Ning. Where do i draw the line.

To me it’s simple. It had GG in it. I was waiting for this to come out, and tbh, would you all even know about this brand’s practices if the boycott didn’t happen? No. This is a bjyx blog where i share things about them. That includes ad, dramas, pictures and videos. I understand if people don’t feel comfortable w/ Li-Ning ads and others, so just don’t like those posts. Did I buy anything from the collection? No. Did I buy multiple copies Web’s single Youth in Times ( like i do with his other singles )? No. That’s where I draw the line in this. I know we’re all gonna be put on a tight spot again once Faith Makes Great comes out. Once I saw that leaked pic, Ooohhh! I just know. Also if BAH adds some propaganda about CHN’s war on drugs. I am just waiting. I am ready. I know what my values are. I will not allow other people to dictate who I am. I know what type of content I’m only gonna be sharing.

I see this very forceful air of asking bxgs to take a stand on this ( always bxg, never the other side. always us of course even if we are the minority) and it really puts me off. I read someone say that they will not say anything because they don’t owe strangers on the internet an explanation. Which is true. I have separate spaces that I share my views on world/local issues. Accounts that show my actual name and around people I know in real life. That’s what I choose to do for myself. I started this blog for myself and i still find it very bizarre that people follow this account. I am not some sort of KOL, let’s get that straight. This is just a blog where I talk about things if i want to and SCREAM about GG and Web too much. I will probably not answer any follow up questions on this cause i feel like I have addressed a good chunk of it.

Just know that whatever I post on here in support of GG and his projects does not equate to my entire political/moral stand regarding this event or any. It’s really good that we have conversations like this cause it’s an important one.

Whew! That was a long post! 😅

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 7,499

Chapter Warnings: swearing, smoking mention, implied s.uicidal ideation, mentioned past s.uicide (c!Wilbur)

Chapter Summary: Technoblade arrives, finally putting all four of SBI in the same place at the same time. There’s too much bad blood for things to run smoothly.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Ten: midnight wire

It’s a waiting game, from there.

Because Sam says that they’re likely to only have one shot at this, and Puffy seems inclined to agree with him, and they need to gather allies and make preparations and be as sure as they can be that all of them will come out the other end intact, which, when dealing with a giant egg that can mind control people, is never as certain as it sounds. So it’s a waiting game, and Wilbur finds that Puffy and Sam are spearheading everything, and he is left mostly out of the loop.

Were things different, he might protest. But he is a long way from his general days, and he’s not sure he has that in him anymore. Not sure he’s capable of that kind of leadership. Not sure he would deserve such a position, even if he could successfully execute it.

And then there’s the fact that Phil’s around, and everyone’s tiptoeing around everyone else, and Tommy is expressing his displeasure in glares and Tubbo makes himself scarce whenever Phil is in the vicinity, and Phil himself barely seems to know how to make any overtures, so they’re all at a standstill, an uneasy equilibrium that seems wont to fall apart at any minute. They are allies of necessity, of circumstance, but if it weren’t for their common enemy, they would be scattering to the winds.

He knew, of course. He knew that somewhere between countries forming and countries falling, between exiles and alliances and betrayals and destruction, that they had all come undone at the seams. But it is one thing to know it and quite another to be confronted with it, to be confronted with sons who no longer trust in their father and a father who does not know how to speak to his sons, and they all believe that they are right and the others are wrong, and there is truth in everyone’s perspective but that hardly matters if no one is willing to make the effort to understand.

So, here he is. On top of Tommy’s house, just sitting. Listening to what crows remain—there are fewer, now, but still plenty—and concentrating on the breeze in his hair, the fresh scent of the grass. Little things, things to ground him, things that will continue to exist whether he has a functional family or not,

(whether he is here or not, and he should not be left alone to his devices at the moment, perhaps, but he does not want company, because company means Tommy’s sullenness or Tubbo’s avoidance or Phil’s pained floundering, and he can’t, he can’t put up with it, and he’s not going to make them put up with him)

(though that’s not fair, it’s not fair and he knows it’s not, because they’re worried about him, they are, and all the preparations and rushing about that everyone seems to be doing doesn’t mean that Tommy hasn’t stopped trying to talk to him about it, awkward and so very sincere, or that Phil is not shooting him worried glances when he thinks he’s not looking)

and he wishes he had a cigarette. It’s a terrible vice, but there was comfort to be found in the smell of it, back then, in the curl of the smoke in the air and in his lungs. It was something he had control over. Something to prove he was alive. Something to seek refuge in.

But he has no cigarettes, and he knows that if he tries to go to find some, people will start being concerned over him, more than usual, and he’s tired of people treating him like he’s made of glass, like he’ll break if he hits the ground too hard or like he’ll break himself if he’s allowed to be alone for too long. Even now, he probably doesn’t have too long before someone seeks him out. He’d better enjoy the peace while it lasts.

(he’s still not being fair but it has been a bit longer, now, since his revival, and perhaps this bitterness has always been present, under the guilt and the grief and the determination to never unleash that side of himself again, perhaps it was there but masked, but whether it was or not, it is here now, and he has no idea whether he has the right to be angry but he is, he is, he is)

He has no cigarettes, and going through his inventory reveals nothing of note. He has the weapons that Tubbo gave him, though the longer he has possession of them, the more he dislikes them. He is more than capable of holding his own in a fight, but it is never his first choice, and the feel of the sword against the palm of his hand has begun to sicken him.

(or perhaps not the sword itself, but what he could do with it, the way he could paint the air with blood rather than words, because his words have gone dry and stale and he’s not sure he will ever recover them)

(you could defend yourself but you don’t like that much either you always liked a crossbow because if you failed to kill your enemy if your enemy reached you armorless as you were and your flesh ready for the blade’s bite it was over it was all over and that’s what you wanted and it is luck that you survived as long as you did survived to ruin it all and perhaps they would all have been better off for it if you were a little worse at aiming)

He doesn’t have any blocks. No building materials, nothing crafted. No one seems keen on giving him anything to do. He could take the initiative himself, but that invites the same problem as trying to go off on his own. People worrying, fretting, Tommy telling him not to stress himself out and Puffy telling him that they’ve got a good handle on things.

He’s still got those cornflowers. He pulls them out, turning them over in his hands, and experimentally crushes one. It takes so little effort to turn flowers into dye, and the petals stain his fingers and palm, streaks of blue standing out starkly against skin that is, perhaps, paler than it should be.

Blue. He likes the color. He crushes another flower. Breathes. Tries to just be for a little while. He never used to have much of an affinity for the color before,

(and there is a part of him that wants soft blue wool under his hands, warmth and safety and love unconditional and a friend that does not leave him, does not judge him, does not expect him to be anything other than what he is, but he pushes that part of himself down to suffocate because there is no time for that)

but some things linger, he supposes, even when he would rather they not. A liking for blue is not the worst thing rattling around in his brain.

A crow settles right next to him. He blinks, frowns, stares at it. It stares right back, almost accusatory.

He doesn’t remember Phil’s flock being so annoying in the past. But then, perhaps that’s just another thing he has to get used to. More irritating birds, and more of them in general.

He sighs. “I can’t say that I’m in the mood right now, Phil,” he says.

“Oh, my mistake. I’ll be sure to let Phil know.” A low drawl, almost monotone, coming from directly behind him, and he jerks, twisting around, and it is not Phil at all. The bird lets out a caw that sounds distinctly smug, and then flaps its wings rapidly and takes off, but he’s hardly paying attention, because of all the people to come looking for him up here, he didn’t anticipate Technoblade.

“When did you get here?” he asks, too surprised to say anything else.

Techno snorts. He is decked out in blue rather than red, and Wilbur is struck by the resemblance to earlier days, different times, another server entirely. That was his first brush with war, but it had all been in good fun, then, and when they’d had enough, they’d walked away. There is no walking away now, and there is something in Technoblade’s stance that says he is well aware of it; there is a harshness to him now that has never been there before, even with all of the voices and all of the blood and the way he has been called to violence every day of his life.

Was he like that, in the tundra, those first hours after Wilbur returned? He remembers thinking he looked tired. He’s not sure that he would have noticed anything else, then.

“As far as anyone else knows, I’m not yet,” Techno says. “Thanks for the welcome.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean—I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting to see you, is all.”

“Phil called,” Techno offers, as if that explains everything. Perhaps it does. But then, there is a sardonic twist to his lips, a discontent in his eyes. “Said somethin’ about an egg cult and makin’ omelets.” He shrugs. “If you’ve dragged Phil into this, might as well have me too.”

“I didn’t drag Phil into anything,” he says. “He showed up on his own. He didn’t have to.”

“And what did you expect?” Techno asks. “That he’d just sit down and take radio silence from you? After everything?”

Anger flares, white-hot. Irrational, maybe, that this should be what does it, but the dam that holds him back is strewn with rotting planks.

“He seems to be just fine taking radio silence from Tommy,” he snaps. “Why not me too? Why not me, after everything? After everything, what do you even mean, after everything? Do you mean after the two of you worked with Dream to destroy L’Manberg? Do you mean after you basically disowned Tommy for the high crime of standing by his best friend? Tell me what you mean, Techno, because honestly, I don’t think that Phil or you has the right to demand anything from me or Tommy.”

“I was talkin’ about how you used Phil to commit assisted suicide five minutes after he set foot in the server,” Techno replies evenly, “but sure, Wilbur, let’s get into it.” And to Wilbur’s consternation, he gathers his cape around himself and sits to his side, about a meter away. “I wasn’t going to talk about Tommy, but you want to talk about Tommy? Fine, let’s talk about Tommy. I have a whole list.”

“You have a—what?”

“I’m sick of bein’ used, Wilbur,” Technoblade says, and his voice is still even, still cool, still lacking even a trace of anger, and perhaps that is the scariest part. “That’s all you and Tommy ever seem to do, these days, is use me. I don’t know how many times I have to say that I’m not a weapon before people start to get it, but it hasn’t worked yet. I have to admit, I’m tired of tryin’.” He fixes him with a stare. Wilbur feels rooted to the spot. “So let’s talk about Tommy, Wilbur. Do I regret not bein’ there for him before? Sure. But I tried when I could, and he threw that away. And I wouldn’t have minded if he’d sided against me from the start. But I laid it all out in front of him, and he chose to join me, and then he chose to betray me. That’s a choice that he made.”

“You were destroying something that mattered to him!” he exclaims. “You were hurting his friends! What did you expect him to do?”

“I expected him not to turn on me. Again. That’s all you and he have done since you came to this server. You bring me in to deal with your messes, and then you get all shocked and outraged when I do what I said I was going to do the whole time.” He shakes his head. He’s still not angry. He’s still not angry, though from his words, he definitely should be. But instead, there is resignation. Perhaps some acerbity. But not anger. “I wasn’t going to get into this. I didn’t want to get into this. But I’m not here for you, Wilbur. I’m here because Phil asked me, and that’s all. I’ll help with your omelet, but that’s all. I’m finished. I tried to be finished a long time ago, but you all kept dragging me back in.”

“Does it not matter to you, then?” he asks. “Any of what came before? Any of the old days?”

Techno raises an eyebrow. “‘Course it does,” he says frankly. “Let me ask you something, Wilbur, when exactly did you stop seeing me as a person with feelings?”

It’s clear that he’s not expecting an answer. And still: that pervasive resignation. Wilbur feels his animosity draining away, replaced by numbness.

(this is on him, isn’t it? he brought Techno here, he recruited him into the first war, he promised him anarchy when he had no intention of delivering, he provoked the first rift, it was all him, him, him, and the worst part of all of it is that he cannot deny any of what Technoblade is saying)

(because they all have their truths, and the problem lies in the refusal to understand. wasn’t he just thinking about this?)

“That’s where I stand, then,” Techno says, turning his head away to face forward, toward the rest of the SMP. There are blood vines visible from this vantage, if you squint just enough. “I thought you should know.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t want to fight.”

“Neither did I,” Techno says. “But sayin’ ‘I didn’t want to’ never seems to accomplish much of anything.”

Wilbur doesn’t have anything to say to that. He flexes his fingers, stares down at his hands, still covered in blue. Blue, blue, blue. If he were Ghostbur, he would smile and chirp something untactful and naive, and perhaps it would not make Technoblade happy, but it would take away the resignation, at least, would distract him from—would distract him from what? The way he seems to expect his family members to treat him as a tool for their own ends? There is no distracting from that. And as much as Wilbur would like to deny it, he cannot say that Technoblade is wrong,

(a history: he and his brother sparring on the grass, he and his brother tormenting Tommy, he and his brother on opposite sides of a grand war, but having so much fun with it, every clash underlain by quick-flash smiles and inside jokes and the knowledge that despite it all, they are still there for each other)

(a different history: summoning the Blade to fight in their war, digging the Blade a pit to fight Tommy in, stringing the Blade along with promises of anarchy, of a tyrant toppled, knowing full well that the Blade will not like the end result, knowing full well that he intends to betray everyone in the end, knowing full well, knowing full well, knowing full well that he will not have to deal with any of the consequences at all because he intends to end his own story without regard for the people still living in it)

“I am sorry,” he says, and this time, he means something entirely different. “For what it’s worth.”

Technoblade sighs. “I am too,” he says. “For what it’s worth. Not for all of it. I’d do a lot of it again. But for the things that are worth bein’ sorry for?” He looks to the sky. Wilbur wonders if he’s counting the crows, as he has taken to doing himself. “I’ve got plenty of regrets. Don’t mistake me there.” He sighs again. “Maybe there’s somethin’ to be worked out, yet. But nobody’s ready for that. I’m not ready for that. I would be astounded if Tommy was ready for that. You don’t seem all that ready for that. So how about we make an omelet and save the rest for later?”

It’s not what he wants. But perhaps it’s not what Technoblade wants, either, and perhaps that is a good sign.

Prime, what a mess they all are.

“Alright,” he says. “Omelet.” And as if summoned by his words, he spots a figure coming down the path toward Tommy’s house. Or, wait—two figures. One is easily distinguishable as Puffy, but he’s not sure about the other, not from this distance. They have dark hair, and they’re wearing a lot of white, and—is that a headband?

Wait.

“Is that Sapnap?” Techno asks doubtfully.

“What the fuck,” he says.

Puffy better have a damn good reason for this.

----------

The reason is, apparently, this: Sapnap stands before all of them and says, with fire in his eyes and white-knuckled fists, that be barely recognizes the man that Bad has turned into, that the Egg has made him become. That he’s been busy at home, with his fiances—and how interesting it is, to learn that Sapnap and Karl, of all people, are Quackity’s fiances—and that he didn’t see a good opportunity to do anything about it before now, but if they’re taking the fight to the Egg, he wants in.

“The Bad I know would never have pulled any of this bullshit,” he declares. “He basically raised me. I know him better than to think this is him. So yeah, mark me down for whatever you’ve got planned.”

And isn’t that achingly familiar.? Except for Sapnap, the positions are reversed: he is the son trying to talk sense into the father, trying to save him, rather than the other way around. He conspicuously does not make eye contact with Phil, who is standing off to the side, Ranboo hovering near him—did he arrive with Techno?—hunched over and looking like he’d really rather be anywhere else.

They’re gathered on the Prime Path outside of Tommy’s house once again. It’s become a de facto meeting place, of sorts, which is strange to him. Tommy himself has always been central to events on the server, but his little dirt hut? Wilbur has never spent so much time here before, and he doesn’t think anyone else has, either. Regardless, they’re all here, Puffy next to Sapnap and Sam come down from the prison, Phil and Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo both very obviously glaring at Technoblade, who has taken up most everyone’s attention by his sudden arrival. He doesn’t think Sapnap has spotted him yet, lurking around the edges of the conversation as he is, but if Sapnap’s going to be here, he might as well get this over with.

“And we should trust you why?” he asks, stepping forward smoothly, in the way he knows makes his coat flare out just so. If no one else is going to ask, he will.

(it’s not paranoia if it’s common sense, it’s not, he’s being careful, he’s watching himself, it’s easy to trip but he hasn’t yet)

Sapnap jerks, all the color draining from his face as he turns. His eyebrows furrow, his lips parting, and Wilbur can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing, tries to make sense of a dead man walking.

“Holy shit,” he says. “You’re—”

Something settles. Old patterns emerge. Here is someone he doesn’t have to watch himself with. Perhaps not an enemy, not anymore, but no friend, no one he cares to keep close.

(he fought by Sapnap’s side once but that was a thin alliance and he was hardly concerned with just who had flocked to his banner, not anymore, not when he’d already made the decision to betray them all, to light the fuse no matter what)

“Yes, yes,” he says, airily waving a hand. “Hello, I’m alive, back by unpopular demand, all of that. I need a guarantee that you’re not under the influence. Being close to Bad gives you a good motive to come and help, I’ll grant you, but it also means that you could be infected through your proximity to him. I’m sure you understand my caution.”

(the words are back, dripping off his tongue like fine wine, like rich confidence)

“He’s—” Puffy starts, but Sapnap’s voice overlaps with hers.

“Wait, am I the only one who didn’t know about this?” he asks. “You’re just—back? Alive again? How the hell did that happen?”

“Not particularly relevant,” he says. “I assure you, it’s something we’re all grappling with at the moment. Would you answer the question?”

Sapnap is still gaping. “I—I guess, I mean, I’ve only been near the Egg once. Bad’s tried to get me to get close a couple of times, but I always give him an excuse. I don’t know how you want me to prove that.”

He lifts a shoulder, half a shrug. “And your fiances? They’re not here because—?”

“Karl hasn’t been feeling great lately,” he bites out. “Completely unrelated to the Egg. But Q’s staying with him for now. I also don’t want either of them anywhere near this thing. Can you blame me for that?”

Against his will, he glances at Tommy and Tubbo, the former of whom still glaring at Technoblade, shock and rage warring on his face, and the latter of whom seeming to want to look anywhere except at Technoblade.

(you want to keep them safe you want to keep them far away but they will not go because the fight is in their blood and this is what you have made them into and the battlefield is different but they still will not leave it and they were adventurous as children to be sure but you did the rest and you know it you cannot protect them and you have only yourself to blame)

“Alright, then,” he says. “I’m not the one to welcome you aboard. But welcome aboard.”

“Okay!” Puffy says, clapping her hands together. She’s scowling, slightly, and Wilbur realizes that they’ve pretty much been running roughshod all over her. “Thanks for that, Wilbur. As you can see, Sapnap, we’ve got a bunch of war criminals, former dead people, irritating little twerps, and Tubbo, but we’re all working together and not provoking anyone more than we need to, because taking down the evil mind control egg is what takes precedence here.” She shoots a glare at him as she speaks, which frankly, he feels isn’t entirely justified. He wasn’t provoking Sapnap. He would have said a lot worse if he was trying to provoke Sapnap.

“While I’m at it, hi, Technoblade,” Puffy adds. “Glad you could make it. Just, nobody blow up any city-states while we’re here and we’ll be fine, okay?”

“I will make no promises,” Technoblade says, “but as long as you’re not hiding a new one from me, we should be good.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy breaks in. Wilbur’s surprised he’s abstained this long. “Why the fuck are you like this? You can’t just barge in here and claim to be all about helping now and expect us all to go along with it. You blew up L’Manberg! You and him!” He jabs a finger at Phil. “You worked with Dream! You, with your stupid withers, over and over again! And you just think you can come back and butt in here like none of that happened? I mean, maybe you can, since I guess no one’s trying to lock you up over it, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair, and it doesn’t mean that you get to be so fucking, so fucking like that about it! Like none of it fucking matters.”

It’s curious to watch everyone’s reactions. They don’t all have a stake in it, not the way that Tommy does, not the way that Tubbo does, not the way that Wilbur does. Sapnap doesn’t seem to know how to react, and Sam’s fingers are clenched around his trident. Puffy just looks tired, which he supposes is fair. He doesn’t think she’s paid enough to put up with their bullshit. Because that’s what it is: their bullshit. To be sure, all of the things that Tommy is saying apply to everyone; he’s talking about general crimes, actions that Techno has taken that have affected the whole server. But Tommy’s not concerned about how they affected the whole server. He’s concerned about himself, and Tubbo. That’s all.

(he can’t blame him, not when he’s the exact same way. he wouldn’t be upset with them at all, wouldn’t care one whit about the ruin of the country that once was his, if it weren’t for the fact that Tommy and Tubbo were hurt over it)

He meets Puffy’s eyes. Jerks his head at her. Go, he says without saying it, and she nods.

“I’m going to show Sapnap some of the stuff we’ve been working on,” she says. “C’mon, Sam. Oh, Ranboo, you too, if you want.”

“Oh.” Ranboo sounds surprised to be addressed. Which is fair, considering that Wilbur forgot that he was there entirely. “Um, sure, I guess. Glad to uh, glad to help out.” He casts an uncertain glance at Phil, looking for cues, and that should tell him all he needs to know about their relationship right there,

(and he’s not jealous, he’s not jealous, he’s not, not jealous that Phil has picked up another kid because this is just how Phil is and there’s no need to be jealous and having another brother might be nice, actually, but why would he do this when Tommy is right here and so clearly in need of support, and why would he drag another child into the mess that is their family in the first place?)

because Phil nods at him reassuringly, and Ranboo follows along with Puffy and Sam and Sapnap as they leave the rest of them alone on the Prime Path in what has to be the least subtle statement of here’s some space so you guys can talk about your family issues that Wilbur has ever witnessed.

Techno was right. They’re not ready for this conversation. But they’re going to start it.

“So, what exactly is the problem here?” Techno asks, in exactly the tone of voice that will not help at all, lazy and unaffected. And Wilbur knows he knows better than that, so it has to be on purpose. “You rattled off a lot, there, and I wasn’t takin’ notes.”

Tommy lets out an inarticulate screech of rage and starts forward, hands clenched into fists. But Tubbo reaches out and grabs his shirt sleeve, and he stops in his tracks.

“You know what the fucking problem is,” he spits. “I fucking hate you. You’re terrible, and you’re the worst, and I want to never see your face again.”

“Oh, so I’ll just leave you to fight a bloodthirsty Egg cult by yourself?” Techno says. He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, Tommy, no can do. I’ve been told they’re calling themselves the Eggpire. That’s right up my alley.”

“Yeah, maybe you fucking should!” Tommy yells. “Maybe you should leave! I don’t want you here! Tubbo doesn’t want you here! We don’t need you, either of you! We’ve been doing just fine all on our own, and now we’ve got Wil back, so we doubly don’t need you! We never have! You haven’t—you haven’t been here before, so why should you suddenly start being here now, huh? Why don’t you just fuck off back to your, your stupid snow fort and your stupid dogs and leave the rest of us alone?”

Phil closes his eyes. The picture of weariness.

Wilbur considers stepping in.

(not yet)

(Tommy needs this)

“I literally just told you why?” Techno says. “Have your listenin’ and comprehension skills gotten this bad? I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, Tommy, you’re the one who used me as a weapon and betrayed me. Again. Feels like I’m preachin’ to the choir, here.”

“I didn’t—” Tommy squawks. “I couldn’t just let you do that to everyone! Why don’t you fucking understand how shitty of a thing that was to do? You destroyed L’Manberg, Technoblade. That was people’s home. That was my home! That was the place, it was the place that Wilbur created, it was Wilbur’s country, and it mattered so much to all of us, and you fucking destroyed it like it was nothing.”

(he thinks you wanted it to be here why does he think that does he not remember what you did what you wanted you wanted it gone and if anything Technoblade fulfilled your greatest desire)

“Well, gee, Tommy, I don’t know,” Techno says, “maybe if L’Manberg didn’t want to get its ass kicked, L’Manberg should’ve left me in retirement, where I was completely content to live out the rest of my days in peace. Or maybe, and consider this, they shouldn’t have set up a corrupt and tyrannical dictatorship just like the last one was.”

Tubbo has gone pale. His face is blank. “I’m right here, you know,” he says.

“I see you,” Technoblade says. “I don’t see you arguin’.”

“Would it do any good?” Tubbo asks. “You’ve made up your mind. Not like it can make a difference now.”

“Of course he’s made up his mind!” Tommy says. “He’s a stubborn fucking pig. He thinks he knows everything, and he doesn’t give a shit when people tell him he’s wrong, because he’s the great Technoblade and Technoblade is never wrong, and he doesn’t care about people, he just cares about his stupid fucking anarchy and his stupid fucking fights, and nothing else matters to him.”

It is Wilbur’s turn to want to close his eyes. But he doesn’t let himself look away.

Technoblade’s face darkens.

(he understands, he understands how Tommy can accuse him of not caring, he understands, but at the same time, he doesn’t, because they grew up together, the three of them, so Tommy should know better, should know better than to think Techno an unfeeling creature, because Techno cares deeply and abidingly and desperately loyally, and that is why he despises betrayal so very much, because it is so rare for someone to grant him the same amount of regard and trust that he is prone to giving away. Tommy ought to know that, so how can it be possible that the events of this server have washed away years of shared history?)

“Okay, I think everyone needs to calm down,” Phil says, but Tommy wheels on him just as quickly.

“Don’t you fucking tell me to calm down,” he snaps. “You don’t have the fucking right. You did all the same things that he did. All the same things, when I thought—” He cuts himself off suddenly, shaking his head, grimacing like he was about to give something away. “Nevermind what I thought. But I went through hell, and you weren’t there for me. Neither of you were there for me. In the end, I had to claw my way out myself, no thanks to either of you. So I don’t know where you get off coming around here and claiming to want to help when you’ve never done shit to help me before.”

“I let you—” Techno begins incredulously, but then Phil strides forward, closing the gap between them, and Techno falls silent.

“I’m sorry,” Phil says simply. “I’m sorry for a lot. I can’t say that I’m sorry for L’Manberg, because that, I’d do again. But I’m sorry for hurting you. And most of all, I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me. Either of you,” he adds, with a glance at Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t react. “I honestly didn’t think you’d want to see me, after what I did to Wil. By the time I realized how badly I’d fucked up, it was a bit late to do anything about it.” His mouth twists. “I don’t have anything more to offer than that. I can’t change the past. But I’d like to start making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

Tommy stares at him for a long moment. And then turns on his heel and marches off after Puffy and the rest.

Silence falls.

“For the record,” Tubbo says, “I’m not too mad anymore. But really, that’s just because he’s mad enough for both of us. And being angry all the time is really exhausting, you know?”

Tommy calls over his shoulder: “Tubbo, come on, let’s go make fun of Ranboo!”

Tubbo gives them all one last, searching stare. And then follows Tommy.

Silence again. Even the crows are quiet.

“That could have gone better,” Phil murmurs.

“Look on the bright side,” he offers, and Phil looks at him, eyes dark. “It could also have gone worse. He could have tried to kill you.”

“Couldn’t help but notice you not bein’ of any help,” Techno says.

“And who was I supposed to help?” he asks, and laughs, not bothering to hide the acidity. “You two? Maybe. I’m pissed at you, but that’s for Tommy’s sake, not L’Manberg’s. I probably should have helped him; Prime knows he needs the support. But at the same time, he’s hardly seeing things clearly either. None of us are. We’re all very fucked up, I’ve noticed.”

The last is supposed to be a joke, or at least, something to lighten the mood a little, because he can’t stand Phil looking so tired and old. But Phil just sighs, something miserable flashing in his gaze.

“And besides,” he continues, softening his tone a bit, “Tommy needed to be able to say all of that himself. He didn’t need me speaking for him or defending him. He needed to air all that out.”

“Do you think there’s hope?” Phil asks. He’s still standing stock still, gazing out over the path in front of him, though Tommy and Tubbo have both passed from sight.

“I really don’t think I’m the one to ask about that,” he says. “But you’re here, yeah? You’ve apologized, and you’re going to try to make things right? I’m not accepting anything on Tommy’s behalf, but it seems like a good first step.”

Phil doesn’t answer. Technoblade makes a low noise that is not quite a scoff, but when Wilbur glances at him, the expression on his face is contemplative rather than angry, rather than derisive. And it’s a start. It’s a start. It has to be a start.

(because if it isn’t if things carry on in this way you’re going to have to choose between them and you already know what your decision will be but it will hurt you will break you to tear out those connections at the roots and no one can be more important to you than Tommy is but you still want Phil you still want Techno no matter their faults no matter what they’ve done they are still your family and you don’t want to have to choose but brace yourself Icarus there is always a fall and the storm wall hasn’t blown through yet)

----------

The plan, in the end, is a simple one: they’re going to gear up, take a shit ton of weapons and firepower, and do their damnedest to crack the Egg’s shell wide open.

There are more complicated factors, of course. The Egg is not a natural thing, and they don’t know what kind of defenses it may have. They also don’t know whether harming the Egg will harm the people under its influence, so that is something to watch for; Puffy and Sam are both insistent that if that happens, they abort the attack immediately.

(though he and Phil meet each other’s eyes across the room, and he knows they are thinking the same thing, thinking about the nature of conflicts such as these and the necessity of sacrifices)

It’s not a particularly solid plan, but it’s the best they can come up with, under the circumstances, and they’re prepared as they’re going to be. Wilbur doesn’t object to it in theory.

But in practice—

“The fuck do you mean, I’m not coming?” he demands.

Puffy meets his gaze head on.

“We need someone on the outside, watching to see if they bring in reinforcements, or if any other weird stuff happens,” she says. “Sam volunteered, but Sam also needs to be at the prison to make sure no one takes advantage of this to try a prison break or something, and he can’t really afford to divide his time. That leaves you.”

“That leaves—what about one of the literal children?” he asks. “You’re fine with bringing the minors near the fucking mind control egg cult?”

“Obviously I’m not fine with it,” she says, “but if I told them to stay behind, they’d follow us in anyway, except I wouldn’t know where they were in order to protect them. This way, everyone knows exactly where everyone else is.”

“Damn straight we would,” Tommy mutters, and Wilbur wheels on him.

“And what the hell are you thinking?” he asks. “Why would you—”

Tommy glances away from him, and all at once, he understands. His chest goes cold.

(red in his mind and red in his heart and the world aflame and he raises his sword)

“You don’t want me to come,” he states.

“I—look, Wilbur? I don’t want to lose you, okay? And I can’t hear the fucking thing, and you can, and I don’t—I couldn’t stand it, if what happened last time happened again. I don’t want to go through that, and I especially don’t want you to go through that. Not again. So, yeah, I’d rather you be just outside, so that we can call you if we need you, or you can call if you need us, but I would feel a whole lot better if you didn’t go in there.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Phil open his mouth to ask something, and then shut it again, his brow furrowed.

The thing is—the thing is, he understands. He understands where Tommy is coming from. If their positions were reversed, he would want the same thing. But it stings, like splinters in his heart, and he tries to tell himself that Tommy is just worried about him, that Tommy just wants to keep him safe, but that is bad enough, because it should be the other way around, should be him protecting Tommy, should be him keeping Tommy safe, and it smarts to know that Tommy doesn’t think he’s capable of doing even that much.

(but he is right, of course, right to doubt him, right to keep him at arms’ length, because he has proven himself susceptible to the whispering and the enticement and Tommy is right to look him in the eyes and tell him to stay behind)

“We’re taking a whole lot of holy water with us, just in case,” Puffy says. “So in case of an emergency, it’ll probably be fine. But I agree with Tommy. I think for your sake, this is where you can do the most good.”

“Right,” he says, and his voice sounds hollow to his own ears. “Right, no, yeah, I get it. I can do lookout.”

(you were their general and how you have fallen)

(they do not trust you and they are right not to)

“Wil—” Tommy starts, but he shakes his head rapidly, cutting him off.

“No, I’m serious, it’s good. You’re probably right.” He smiles, or at least goes through the motions; his lips curve upward, at any rate. “Can’t say that I’m eager for a repeat either. But you’ve got to promise that you will call me in if you need me.”

“Course we will,” Tommy says, and he

(doesn’t believe him he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying)

nods. That’s the best he’s going to get.

There’s not much to say after that. Sam wishes them luck and returns to the prison. The rest of them head off toward the Egg, and he holds his head high and his back straight and pretends there is no shame curling in his gut, no wounded animal clawing at his chest, no hurt, no fear, no bitterness. And he pretends that he does not feel the weight of Phil’s gaze on his shoulders, curious and concerned. Phil has not been told about his encounter with the Egg, no details, at least, and he would like to keep it that way, if he can. So he pretends not to see, and he pretends that the growing density of the vines as they march forward does not strike a chord of

(longing)

dread in his heart.

There is no reason to worry, probably. Techno and Phil are armed to the teeth, and Puffy is no lightweight, and they will all work to keep the kids safe. And Tommy and Tubbo themselves are very capable, even though they shouldn’t have to be, and he doesn’t know Ranboo very well

(though there is something terribly eerie in his bearing, at the moment, in the way he almost seems to be taller, in the blank, glazed look in his eyes, in his almost mechanical movements, and it is very unsettling but perhaps the kid is just nervous)

but he lives with Techno and Phil, so he must have some measure of skill.

So it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.

He wishes he could persuade himself. But he can’t, not on the way there, and not after they arrive, not after they leave him at the top of the ladder with several bottles of holy water and a repeated promise to let him know if something goes wrong. Not after they all descend the ladder, out of sight.

He is alone.

He tries to breathe, tries to steady his nerves. He used to be better than this. He used to be able to go into battle without this anxiety clanging in his bones. But he can’t stop remembering

(red red red and don’t you want peace, brave heart, don’t you want to rest)

the previous ordeal, and they all took holy water with them, but what if that isn’t enough? What if the Egg worms its way inside their heads regardless of the precautions? What if the Egg takes Technoblade? What if the Egg takes Phil?

He takes to obsessively checking his communicator, only placing it down for a few seconds at a time before picking it up again and searching for new messages. There is nothing, and he tries to tell himself that radio silence is a good thing, that it means they’re not in danger, but before fifteen minutes pass, he’s about ready to jump down the ladder himself, regardless of the risk, regardless of the consequences.

It grates, being left up here on his own, like a child that can’t be trusted with his own safety, when the literal, actual children went down there, could be fighting for their lives right now.

(and it was one thing to be left out of planning, because he doesn’t want to be a general anymore, not really, doesn’t want to be a leader, not when it all brought him to such grief, but it is one thing to let others take charge and quite enough to be left out entirely)

(they’re pulling away they’re abandoning you they know what you are and this is just the excuse)

He sighs noisily, running a hand through his hair. Sets the communicator down. Picks it up again.

It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be—

There’s a message.

He reads it. Once, twice, three times, just to make sure he’s not hallucinating, that it’s real, that the words glaring up at him, swimming in front of his eyes, aren’t some error, some mistake, aren’t a glitch with the worst possible timing. He blinks, hard, but they remain the same, and terror reaches into his chest and stops his heart.

(there is something very wrong at the heart of this server the beating living heart is choked and stuttering staccato black with poison and clotted with misery and you can see it in the sky can smell it on the wind and in that cell that obsidian cell where the walls weep and the lava enters your nose and lingers you knew it you saw it there is poison creeping a monster waiting and the monster is loose and he is coming and death on his footstep and it is as the tide and the tide must always return and the tides are black and cold and they want you to drown)

The words are still there.

Awesamdude was slain by Dream.

Without a second thought, he grips the top rung of the ladder and vaults over the side.

[sofi220303]

My Weeb Hero - Leviathan (Obey Me!) One-Shot

Summary:

(After the events of Lesson 16)

After having a nightmare of THAT traumatic experience you had recently on the Devildom, you decide to ask Levi for help to forget your nightmare, and with a beautiful gaming night both of you get closer.

*Just read it for the fluff and to see Levi being cute with MC lmao, I suck at doing interesting summaries*

Before We Start:

Hi! Welp, this is the first time I'm publishing a fanfic in my life (Only because it's Levi's birthday and I love him, and wanted to post something about him), so please don't be too harsh on me and I really hope you all enjoy it! Thanks to my beautiful friends that were my beta-readers and also proofread my story (love ya girls!)

I wrote some MC interest and personality basing it on me to make it more realistic, so if you don't like one of the interest I wrote, change it to your own! I also have the same idea written but instead of Levi, with Satan, maybe if you like this one I will publish it, english it's not my first language so sorry if I have some mistakes, and well I think that's all, hope you like it!

My Weeb Hero

— I hate humans, you see. I hate them more than anything in the three worlds— while Belphegor talked all I could feel was the pressure of his cow like tail around my neck, pressing it harder by the minute. I tried to breath, but with every second that passed it became harder. I tried to focus my energy on pushing him away or taking his tail off me, but it was hopeless. My body felt heavier and I didn't have the strength to do anything; there was no way to scape, to save myself.

—...Why is it so much fun that I can barley stand it?! I... I can't contain the laughter! AHAHAHAHAHA!— his eyes that once where sweet and beautiful, that showed sadness and frustration, no, not frustration, but desperation because of being captive, now were shining, almost seemed as they where glowing in the darkness of the room, glowing with passion and satisfaction by my growing pain. They're all I could see with that smile that scared every last bit of me, and that laugh that echoed in my mind, suffocating me even more.

My eyelids became heavier and everything faded into darkness, but I could still see those glowing eyes and creepy smile with his laugh loudly resonating in my head...

Without breath I woke up from my dream turned into nightmare, completely startled by the memory. My body was shaking and my breathing was fast, desperate to get a grasp of air I frantically needed and still felt like missing. With a hand in my heart I closed my eyes to find it beating at an awfully fast speed. I laid back on my bed slowly and tried to focus on my breathing to calm down, without noticing I placed my hand on my face and started laughing, just to start crying the second after. I decided to go to the bathroom to wash my face and get some water... again those nightmares... great.

When I went back to my room I decided to check the hour on my phone... 2:45 am... perfect. I opened the chat on my D.D.D and scrolled down a bit. I'm sure he will be awake, it's not that late and he probably is playing some video-games, binge-watching some anime or rewatching the TSL movies again.

"Leviachan Otaku Lord"

MC: Hey! You up?

Levi: Yup, u ok?

Levi: Thought I heard some noise...

Levi: It's not as if I'm worried or something! Just wondering out of pure curiosity... It would be really unfair if you were with some of my brothers doing a sleepover like the other day -_-'

MC: Hahaha... it's nothing like that, just needed someone to talk to and thought you would be up watching smth or playing some games.

MC: Sorry to bother you since I know you don't like to be disturbed.

Levi: Hmph it's no bother if I'm answering you (-////-)

Levi: I was just watching a show, but it's really not that interesting.

Levi: Did you have a nightmare again?

MC: Yeah... the noise you heard probably was when I went to the kitchen to get something to drink ://

Levi: Do-do you want to come over? If you don't want to it's okay. Maybe is better if we only talk by chat, but it's not everyday that I give someone the opportunity to come into my biggest comfort place, to my beloved "cave" as my brothers would say.

MC: Hahahaha

MC: Okay, okay, if you want it that bad I will go.

MC: As you said it's not everyday that I get invited to your awesome cave lmao

After that, Levi didn't answer again. Gladly, his room was near mine so I didn't have to walk around the House of Lamentation making more noise and risking waking everyone up. When I got there I knocked on his door three times. After a minute or so, the door opened slowly.

—Come in.— Levi almost whispered hiding behind the door. Even though his face was serious, you could see a faint blush on his cheeks. He still wasn't used to people entering his room without coming to drag him out, play video games or watch animes or some movie, ask him a favor or look through his things, so this was still weird for the introverted demon.

Also, he knew how much I liked his room with the ocean theme and felt relaxed by it, so if that would help me get over the scare of the nightmare he would endure it.

—Thanks...— I said softly while sitting on his bed. He took some consoles from his desk and took some games before sitting with me.

—No worries!— he said while hurriedly giving me a console and the games to automatically look to the other side of the room— C-choose a game, we will play some... I thought you would like these ones... — he mumbled still facing the opposite side of the room but more relaxed.

—How about this one?— I took the same old loved Mariokart and showed it to him.

—If that's what you want... it's really a good choice since it's a classic that never disappoints to bring a great time. But don't think I will let you win that easily! Hmph! — he took the game and put the disc's in both consoles.

—It's really cool how you have two Nintendos and copies of the games to play with more people!— I said while preparing my game.

—As an otaku I need the limited edition consoles, and this Ruri-chan theme Nintendo had to be mine even though I already had that one, and the copies are pretty new, since I thought it would be best to lend yo... you know what? Never mind.

Even if he doesn't want to show it he can be really cute when he cares for others, I can't help but smile while thinking that.

—Are you ready to start?— he asks looking directly at me.

—Huh? Oh! Yes...— while concentrating on the loading screen I add— I won't take it easy with you too, I'm not willing to lose!

—Ha! Let's see if you can win to a pro like me, normie— he says surprisingly confidently with a smirk on his face.

After five rounds with two wins and three loses...

—Fuzz buckets! You ARE good at this...— I admit in defeat.

—Told ya, still... you keep up a good match...—he admits shyly— and did you just said "fuzz buckets"?? Really?

—Sorry not sorry! I just love Wizards and got used to saying it thanks to Douxie. Can't help it so don't blame me — I giggled.

—Hmm... I'm in no position to blame though, but why him??

—Because I love him and he is my fave. I don't question you when you say quotes from Henry, do I?

—No... you don't...— he fakes resentment and pouts, simply cute.

Without really thinking who I'm with, I lean on his shoulder. I can feel him getting a bit stiff but he doesn't move away and I take it as an offer to stay there.

—Hey... do you... do you want to talk about what happened? About your nightmare?— he asks a bit embarrassed.

—Just the usual... the demon from that time trying to attack me, but none of you is around to save me... and I can't scape because I'm cornered and I'm not strong enough to run or defend myself...— even though I wanted to tell him about the nightmare, I couldn't bring myself to tell any of them that their own brother is the demon in question, not even to Levi with whom I'm closer to. So I just used the story about that time on RAD when a demon of a lower rank tried to attack me while I walked to my next class. At that moment I was alone because none of the brothers took that class with me, but gladly before something happened, Lucifer, who was passing by, saved me and took care of him. Since then, at least one of the brothers would take the same classes as me, so I'm not alone anymore.

—I swear I will protect you... I might be a filthy otaku, an useless shut-in, but I'm strong enough to protect you. I won't let others hurt you... even on your dreams... so make sure to call me in situations like this. I can be your hero, like the ones on manga, and... I w-want to be your hero!— with a a blush creeping up on his cheeks and the tip of his ears, he declared this with such passion showing he was serious, but in a soft way that shows the regret of not being there at the moment the incident happened.

—Thank you Levi— I reply softly— can I stay here for a bit more?— I ask while closing my eyes and grabbing his left arm close to me. Another shiver comes from him because of that, but again he doesn't complain. I can feel his eyes staring and I'm mostly sure he is even more red than before. With a little movement of his head, guessing he is nodding, and a "hmmh" I finally fall asleep feeling safe.

I didn't have any more nightmares that night.

[capaldifiction]

Graham Norton Show - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

I apologize for how long these have been taking me to get to, but I hope you like your request 💙

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Actress Reader

Word Count: 2,014

Description:  Based on this request: “Where the reader and him are doing the interview on Graham Norton show and being funny as hell and everyone knows they are dating even if they didn't say it. Can you also add then having long cute stares at each other.”

Warnings: Some swearing

“And welcome our next two guests, Y/N and Chris Pratt!” Graham Norton calls out as the two enter the set to applause. Waving to audience quickly, Y/N smiles before turning to shake the hands of Graham, Jared Leto, and Tom Ellis before taking her place next to Tom, with Chris sitting to her left.

“How are the two of you doing? Enjoy your trip back home to the U.K. Y/N?” Graham asks.

“Real good,” she respond with a small smile, relaxing back into the couch. “Long flights suck, but being back home is always great. Haven’t gotten to get back to my actual house yet, but what can ya do?”

“I’m doing great,” Chris nods in response. “Got to film and now promote this film with this fantastic woman right here. She’s hilarious, and gives me a run for my money as set prankster.”

“Oh?” Graham asks noticeably intrigued. “And what kind of pranks is Y/N pulling?”

“Oh nothing that great,” Y/N insists, her cheeks reddening as she tries to talk it down.

“How long do we have?” Chris asks with a grin toward the audience that cheers in response.

“Give us one good one,” Graham insists.

“Hmmm,” he says as his gaze drifts to the ceiling of the set. “Probably the prosthetic zombie finger she stuck to the bottom of my coffee cup, then filled it with my coffee and brought it to me. Took me an hour to finally see that sucker. We’re standing there discussing the next scene, I take a sip and seeing a freakin’ finger coming up out of my coffee and chucked it.”

“He screamed like a little girl,” Y/N grins cheerfully to the audience’s laughter. “It was fantastic.”

“Well we can’t expect anything less… from the one rumored to be dating our hilarious musical guest of the day,” Graham teases.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” she insists, her eyes immediately leaving Graham’s.

“Oh? So you’re denying the rumors of you and Lewis Capaldi?”

“Absolutely.”

“I mean,” Chris butts in with a shrug. “He was on set an awful lot for someone who lives in Scotland when we were filming in Canada.”

“Well yeah, we are friends, I never said we weren’t friends and he never visited me, we live near each other and see each other all the time and he had some concerts in North America so he dropped by a few times to hang out and see the set,” she rambles quickly as she tugs at the bottom of her shirt in embarrassment.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Tom Ellis throws in, raising his eyebrows.

Jared and Graham laugh as Y/N sinks further in the couch and reaches for her drink on the table.

“Bit thirsty there Y/N?” Jared teases.

“Parched,” she quips back with narrowed brows to her former costar.

“So the film you two are starring in is ‘End Of The Living,’ care to give us a taste of what it’ll be about?” Graham asks looking at Y/N and Chris.

“Well my and Chris’ characters are neighbors in an apartment building that don’t really get along. They deal with seeing each other on an occasional basis, but generally avoid each other. Then all hell breaks loose as the zombie apocalypse basically breaks out, and they have to work together to survive.”

“Annnnd then they fall in love,” Chris adds with a chuckle.

“Naturally, nothing says love like zombie guts and certain death,” Y/N nods with a carefree smile.

“And here on the couch we have a vampire, two zombie hunters, and Satan himself,” Graham summarizes as he looks at his guests who laugh in response. “It’s a nice light promotional day isn’t it?”

“Zombie hunters are no match for Morbius though,” Jared jokes looking over to Chris and Y/N.

“Says you,” Chris throws back. “But if we can’t Star Lord will wipe the floor with him since he’s in his world.”

“In all due respect,” Tom jumps in, “None of them can take on Lucifer.”

“And with that, we should go to a break, when we get back we’ll see our musical performance from Lewis Capaldi!” Graham shouts as the cameras shut off.

Giving pointed looks to the men around her, and sticking her tongue out at Jared, Y/N’s attention is finally caught by the instruments being brought in for Lewis’ performance.

She nods at his piano player Aiden as he gets settled, then smiles as Lewis himself comes out onto the set. The typical nervous expression always etched on his face before a performance there. He looks up to see her gaze on him, and smiles wide before sending a wave her way.

Smiling in turn she waves back at him as she watches them finish setting up, ignoring the scoffed laughed from Chris beside her.

As the lights brighten again, the cameras come back to life as Graham steps in front of the camera, “And here to perform his newest hit, two-time Brit winner and Grammy nominated singer Lewis Capaldi!”

The cameras turn toward Lewis as he begins the song, and Y/N leans forward with her chin in her hands as she watches the performance intently, standing up and applauding loudly as Lewis hits the last note.

Finishing up the song, Lewis sets his guitar down and gives a wave to the audience before heading over to the couches. Shaking each person’s hand down the line, he stops to pull Y/N into a side hug, whispering something in her ear causing a smile to spread across her face.

After all shaking hands, all the guests take their seats once again. As Chris sits back down, he places his arm on the couch behind Y/N, while Lewis takes his seat on the other side of him. Lewis’ gaze lingers on Chris’ arm for a moment with a frown before forcing it away and looking to Graham.

“Fantastic performance Lewis!” Graham says looking over at him. “Now where do we start? The new album you have coming out or the triple platinum on your last one and the two Brits you’ve gotten since you were last here?”

“The new album Graham,” Y/N says before Lewis can respond, throwing him a look. “You’ll give him a bigger head if you go on about the other things.”

“And that’d be a bad thing Y/N?” he asks with a teasing tone.

“There’d be no living with you if it got any bigger,” she sighs dramatically.

“Living with him?” Jared asks as he looks between the two, noticing Lewis’ gaze lingering on her a moment too long.

“W-well yeah,” she answers hastily. “We live pretty close, I see him pretty often.”

“Speaking of you two living close, do you also go on some of his tours Y/N?” Graham asks. “You appear on quite a few of his social media posts from Instagram to Tik Tok, and everyone’s loving seeing that side of you when you usually play such serious roles.”

“Well we just always have a good time. I have gone on some of his tours when I’m not working, get to see some cool places with a good friend of mine. And we’re both a little weird, so it makes for some interesting videos I guess,” she shrugs.

“Let’s take a look at one of them now,” Graham says, gesturing to the screen beside him.

The screen changes to a clip of Y/N wearing a Lewis Capaldi merch t-shirt and a pair of black sunglasses as she stands atop a large table singing the lyrics to ‘Grace.’ Throwing her head back, she starts dancing to the music, when the camera pans over to Lewis also doing the dance from his music video and singing the song at the top of his lungs.

“I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes!” she yells out as the camera follows Lewis moving in front of the table she’s dancing on. As she finishes the line, she launches herself onto his back, a look of panic on his face as they both crash to the ground in front of the camera, followed by a chorus of obscenities.

As the clip fades out, Lewis and Y/N have equally red cheeks as they make eye contact and look down at their drinks while the audience and other guests laugh.

“And what were you two doing there?” Graham asks with a grin.

Lewis runs his hand through his hair breaking his gaze from Y/N back over to Graham, “That, that was a less than sober rendition of my song and Y/N trying to kill the both of us as my piano player filmed us.”

“Ok but we were on his tour and had too much to drink and it seemed like a good idea at the time,” she defends.

“Alcohol would do that,” Tom teases.

She smiles at him sheepishly before taking a drink, “Alright we don’t always make the best choices, but we do make the fun choices.”

“Fuck yeah,” Lewis agrees with a grin, his eyes quickly widening before muttering a quiet apology.

“So about this new album, what should we be expecting from it and when?” Graham asks.

“Well there are the artists that really want to reinvent themselves for their next album, really try something new and push the boundaries of music,” he replies. “And that’s not me. It’s gonna be more sad shit, and hopefully if you liked the first album you’ll like the second. We’re looking at it coming out in May of this year.”

“No inspirations for happy love songs in your life huh?” Chris asks with a knowing smile, glancing at Y/N next to him who quickly looks away from Lewis.

“Nope, I’m sad and alone,” Lewis confirms, his gaze once again drifting to Chris’ arm behind Y/N on the couch, then to her eyes as a content smile spreads across both their faces.

“Right then,” Graham chuckles as he stands up from his seat. “That’s all we have time for tonight. Give a big round of applause for my guests tonight, Lewis Capaldi, Chris Pratt, Y/N, Tom Ellis, and Jared Leto! I’ll see you next week everyone!”

Once the cameras have shut off, the guests all stand up to bid their goodbyes to one another.

“It was great seeing you again,” Jared says, pulling Y/N into a quick hug over the table. “We really need to work together again some time.”

“I get pranked enough in my personal life to go up against you again,” she chuckles setting her empty glass down on the table. “You take it to a whole new level Leto.”

“Oh you know you loved it,” he teases patting her shoulder.

“Of course, snake in my dressing room was the best,” she says while rolling her eyes but smiling. “It was good talking again. Hit me up sometime again sometimes. And it was great meeting you,” she says turning to Tom.

“You as well,” he responds with his own smile. “That goes for all of you, I had a great time.”

“Same here bud,” Chris says throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder and extending it for a fist bump at Tom who bumps it with a smirk, his gaze going to a very obviously uncomfortable Lewis behind Chris.

“It was fucking fantastic meeting you all,” Lewis interrupts after a moment. “All of you are amazing. But if you don’t mind…” he reaches around Chris to snag Y/N’s hand, who he quickly pulls out of his grasp and to his own side.

Placing a quick kiss on her cheek, he mumbles, “Let’s get out of here.”

Y/N nodding in agreement, follows Lewis off the set hand in hand with shy smiles on their faces as the last few remaining people in the audience cheer.

Turning to look at the other two men, Chris smirks and crosses his arms in victory, “Fuckin knew it.”

-----

Extra Notes: As to why I chose Jared Leto, Tom Ellis and Chris Pratt. Chris Pratt I thought would be a good funny guy that would mess with Lewis and Y/N a bit (and I’m a big Marvel fan so I’ve seen some of his interviews lol). Jared Leto just because I’ve been a fan of him and his band for a really long time and just thought he was someone I could write alright. And Tom Ellis because I felt like the Lucifer show fit the vibe of this, and I had the chance to see a live panel of him at a Comic Con I went to where he was just a really cool guy.

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