#in my heart they're all a family but that won't stop me from drawing this /

[circusballoon]

Intermission from usually-scheduled OC art continues because I still have fanart of @insertdisc5's In Stars and Time to get out of my system before Art Fight rolls around. I love these characters dearly :(

[sen-ya]

Sen's Important Info Post

Post last updated 10/29/24

Hey I'm Sen and I draw One Piece too much! I am terrible at keeping things easy to find, turns out when ur job is project management you don’t want to also do it in ur down time. My current theme is following the dopamine, keeping it as fun as it can be for me to draw. Below the cut is information on the different AUs & serializations I've got going on right now :^)

Important Links

[How to use Airtable]

[Sen's Digital Comic Book] - a database of every comic I've made that is woefully not updated often I am sorry. I gotta work on a better system for easy viewing.

[Life After Digital Comic Book] - a database of every page of Life After

[See Comics Early on Ko-Fi!]

[Life After Info Post] - Life After is currently on hiatus!

Posting Schedule

Thursday - Serialized Comics (current: Family AU//Forgetful)

Universe: Main Timeline

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-important and not important ways. These comics are largely LuLaw but include sprinkles of Heart Pirates (in general and as family), ZoSan, and general shenanigans.

Serializations:

Getting Together - Will they/won't they? They will, but they're gonna be stupid about it. Anything tagged into this series you can assume they haven't established that they're romantically interested in each other.

Established LuLaw - Two idiots in love. Anything tagged with this series you can assume they're together. They may not refer to each other as "boyfriend" or "partner" but whatever it is that's going on is clear to the two of them and that's what matters.

Law Loses - Most comics in this series deal with the aftermath of Winner Island. Law feels like a curse.

Goofs Only - These comics don't require serialization. They're just some good fun. If they include LawLu/LuLaw, they'll also be tagged as either "Getting Together" or "Established" so you have context for their reactions.

The Heart Bros - Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi found each other as kids. Comics in this series act as glimpses into their time growing up and other brotherly interactions. This is noncompliant with the Law novel. Once they form the Heart Pirates, they consider each other brothers.

ZoSan - I don't draw these two a lot anymore, so this series is just a general ZoSan category!

Heart Pirate Shenanigans - I went all in on Heart Pirates Week 2024 and wrote a bunch of comics about the various crew members! Leaving this as an open series for when I inevitably fall down another Heart Pirate rabbit hole.

Universe: Older/Family AU

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-importanComics in this universe take place anywhere from 7 - 30 years post canon. Mostly LuLaw with sprinkles of other shenanigans. You can assume events from the main timeline are canon in this AU.

Serializations:

Accidents Happen - Law gets a cold and stops running a few effects that he'd taken for granted.

Getting Married - Did you know if two pirate captains want to get married, they can just say they're married?

Extras - This series is for posts that offer context/additional information about what's going on in the AU

Family Fluff - These are a series of comics where the focus is on Law and/or Luffy as a parent.

Forgetful - Law gets hit by a devil fruit that makes him forget everything that's happened since just before Marineford.

Get back to it - After spending some time on Zou in Rocy's first 18 months, it's time for Luffy & Law to get back to pirating.

Universe: The Worst Timeline

Comics in this universe branch off of the main timeline around Whole Cake/early Wano. These comics may refer to earlier 'main timeline' events, but what happens in them is so terrible I've refused to make them part of my own personal canon. Sometimes it's just too temping to make them suffer :^)

Serializations:

Rightfully Worried - This series is an AU in which Luffy gets the absolute shit kicked out of him in Whole Cake and when he arrives on Wano Law has to save his life. It's not the first time he's performed surgery on him, but it is the first time he's had to since he's cared so much about his patient.

The Worst Wake-Up Call - During an intense battle, Law makes a decision. The ones who love him deal with the aftermath.

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 25

It was recess time for Luz's grade, all her classmates running around on the playground equipment, screaming off the top of their lungs, pretending to eat wood chips, and being too much for the supervising teachers to keep up with. Luz, in particular was walking around, holding a notepad and a crayon she borrowed from inside. She then walked over to three boys on the jungle gym, literally hanging around.

"Hello!" Luz chirped, hiding her nerves. "I'm pretending to be a news reporter. Want to answer some questions?"

The boys all either nodded or mumbled a, "Yes." Luz smiled as she flipped open her pad to a page. At the top were the words "Having a sibling," with a line going down the middle, one side labeled as "Good" and another labeled as "Bad."

"First question," she said. "Do any of you have siblings?"

Two of the boys raised their hands.

"I don't," the third said. "But I can do this."

He then proceeded press his hands against his cheeks and blow a raspberry. It got his friends to laugh, but Luz wasn't in a laughing mood.

"For you two, would you say it's good or bad to have a sibling?"

"Bad," both said, making Luz look up from her notepad in shock.

"Really? You both think that?"

"Yeah," one said. "My little brother gets more toys than me on Christmas. I barely got everything on my list last year while he got literally everything."

"And I have an older brother," the other boy claimed. "He's always so mean to me. Sitting on top of me, farting in my face, calling me a 'Buttwipe.' I don't even know why, he just does it."

"That's...interesting to know," Luz told them. "Thank you for your time."

She walked away from them, adding two notches to the bad side of her paper.

'So, it's not good to have a young or older sibling,' Luz thought. 'Is Vee older than me? Or am I older? Does that mean I have to be mean? But I don't want to be mean...'

Luz eventually made her way over to a girl sitting in a patch of dirt, drawing circles with a stick.

"Hello," Luz said, getting her attention. "What'cha doing?"

"Drawing circles," Bobbi responded. "What are you doing?"

"Playing reporter. Can I ask you what having a sibling's like?"

"Oh."

"But my cousins do," the girl spoke up, more attentive. "They're twins."

"Oh!" Luz held up her notepad in anticipation. "They have to get along, right?"

"Not really," the girl said with a shrug, causing Luz to frown. "They fight a lot. Every time I see them, in fact."

"Oh...good to know..." Luz trudged off, adding two extra notches in the "Bad" side.

'There has to be someone who has good siblings...'

So, she set out to talk to everyone in her playground, hoping to find at least one notch in the good side of her paper.

Only to be met with a similar pattern of answers.

"My sister got an ice cream for getting hurt, but I couldn't get any! Even though I cried a lot for one!"

"My brother won't stop screaming when Mommy tries to feed him. How is it so hard to eat?"

"I can't even play with my brother without Mom saying I'm being too rough. Kevin was rough with me, why can't I be rough with Dylan?"

"She won't stop crying!"

"I wish I was an only child..."

Kid after kid after kid had the same thing about how awful it is having a sibling. Each answer was worse than the other, with Luz sitting up against the monkey bars, staring at the several notches she made on the bad side. The only ones that were on the good side were just notches that carried over from the bad because Luz ran out of room. Tears started to fill in Luz's eyes as worry began to grow in her heart.

'If having a sibling is this bad...what are me and Vee going to be like...?'

[barrenclan]

unsure if this has been said before but please let me get what i want (the deftones vers specifically) feels very fitting for pinepaw or maybe even rainhaze. the family guys who are almost foils to each other when they're both going through a messy rough time 🤝

I really like this suggestion, because Morrissey is my current voiceclaim for Pinepaw so he's very Smiths-coded in my mind.

Haven't had a dream in a long time See, the life I've had Could make a good man bad

So for once in my life Let me get what I want Lord knows it would be the last time Lord knows it would be the first time

Oh my friend, British men screeching is just about my favorite musical styling.

Want land in the valley There's pieces of you breaking off (Pieces of you breaking off)

Big money's in the basin, you don't come back without it He's killing with abandon to get over the mountain Got darkest rum from Mama, seething in the liver Blood disease from Papi, poisoning the river

Friends on the Other Side works pretty well for Ranger, at the very least his attitude. Rainhaze's deal came from desperation rather than greed, but I do like things that speak to his thoughtless self-centeredness and hero complex.

That's a Rainhaze song if I ever heard one!

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of Flesh and bones and they're all scared of A lost little boy who has lost his heart Fear's not enough, they have to Tear him apart

Follow the scent of iron sinking Deeper into corpses rotting But they can't hear you talk, talk, talk About every little thing

And the Hound Is humming you A lie, a lullaby

Ohh, yeah... I can see it.

I wonder who I'd be If all these bad things Didn't happen to me

I must be The Virgin Mary To create a son Who will suffer so much <- the sloug.......

The tone of the song is pretty light, but I can see the lyrics working! Especially drawing parallels between the original great destruction and the current onslaught.

Oh god, come quickly The execution of all things Let's start with the bears and the air And mountains, rivers and streams Then we'll murder what matters to you And move on to your neighbors and kids Crush all hopes of happiness with disease 'Cause of what you did

And lastly, you're all alone with nothing left but sleep But sleep never comes to you It's the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak It's just you and me

Ah, that musical is on my watchlist but I haven't gotten around to it yet. I've heard pretty good things, though!

I roar! And you cry! I'm the reason You run and hide!

You better leave your hopes behind No one's gonna stop him You better hope he's out of sight Or you're doomed to be a victim

Objectively wild pull, but I do love Johnny Cash, and his voice reminds me a lot of what Mallowstar's would be like. I like this song a lot with him. :,]

Well, I won't back down, no I won't back down You can stand me up at the gates of Hell But I won't back down

Well, I know what's right, I got just one life In a world that keeps on pushin' me around But I stand my ground and I won't back down <- wahh mallowstar...

I'd definitely this has big Slugpelt energy.

Dear, I fear we're facing a problem You love me no longer, I know And maybe there is nothing That I can do to make you do Mama tells me I shouldn't bother

Lately I have desperately pondered, Spent my nights awake and I wonder What I could have done in another way To make you stay

It's a pretty good song!

YAY Queen song! This is interesting; I can see it very well with characters that are still a spoiler to talk about.

So much ado, my lover So many games we played Through every fleeted summer Through every precious day

All dead, all dead All the dreams we had And I wonder why I still live on All dead, all dead And alone, I'm spared My sweeter half instead All dead and gone

Damn I ran out of video links

[mrsnancywheeler]

i’ve been stuck in my thoughts for ages about this so hear me out.

So we know about reader seeing Conway’s family when she gets back from the games- the way they stare at her, their beautiful son’s killer. but image reader seeing her friends for the first time when she’s back. Becket, Tallulah, ect (sorry if any of this is spelt wrong it’s midnight and for some reason my hands won’t stop shaking😭)

I think it would be so bittersweet for all of her friends. The sweet girl everybody in District 4 likes, the sweet girl who helped all of her friends in their time of need even if it wasn’t reciprocated, the sweet girl who survived. Yet, the same sweet girl who survived is the same one who deceived and killed her best friend.

I have no clue what her friends would even say😭 It’s obvious that there would be some people who couldn’t see her the same way, but her own friends?

Like I always imagine Beckett and reader to have a really close relationship pre-reaping. Cause i totally feel that Beckett is that one friend who has no safety awareness and would do the stupidest shit, especially if it was to get a laugh out of reader. I just imagine him to be such a goofy guy and Tallulah would always be the one to insult him for it. I can just imagine them as a cute lil trio, but the question is, would that trio fade into a duo after reader comes back home?

ITS SO SAD TO THINK ABOUT BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY SHE HAS FINNICK BUT SHE NEEDS HER BEST FRIENDS TOO😭

I can just imagine Finnick’s heart breaking as he watches his sweet girl get socially isolated when she comes back, he’d watch her say that she deserves it and his heart would just shatter. Never in a million years would she deserve it, loosing all of her remaining friends because they can’t fathom what it’s like to be in the arena. They can’t sympathise or understand at all because they just don’t have the experience she has, so they have to resort to the knowledge that they already know. The knowledge that tells them that she’s a monster because she deceived her best friend and then killed him, even if it was for survival.

PLEASE IM BEHHINH ITS SO SAD

-🌺anon

so I believe that district 4 gets away with so much because they're so rich and the Capitol can funnel in so much propaganda, not as much as 1 & 2, but especially for the people who are more well off, the games are somewhat glorified. and I envision beckett and tallulah being victims of this to a certain extent. finnick presents himself as being fine, he parties, he acts like a normal rich young playboy, so it feeds into the narrative that all winning does is make you rich, powerful, but I don't think it serves as an incentive for either of them to volunteer because they aren't the type of people who long for more then the privileged lives they already have.

ao basically I don't necessarily think they isolate her, but I think she isolates herself because of her perception of the situation. she hates herself, thinks she deserves to suffer, that everyone should hate her the way she does, and so she convinces herself that everyone's putting on a facade because she has wealth now, not because they still care about her as a person. so she puts on a face at parties, but draws away otherwise. in the first year or so she probably only interacts, on a day to day basis, with finnick and just enough with her family to support them financially.

finnick tries to get her to spend time with mags, but for a while she won't, the first time she does she sits there in silence until she starts bawling. he doesn't like beckett much but he tries to help him open back up to her, and he does enjoy talullah's company, so he'd invite them over for dinner just try to mediate.

but once he's making dinner and tells her he's invited people over she's pissed and freaking out

"what do you mean? finnick, please, I can't act tonight, just me and you, please"

"you don't have to act, angel, you haven't talked to people in months. they're your friends and worried about you because they care."

"no they don't! how can anybody care about me after what they watched me do? look what I do to my friends."

"I care about you."

"tell them not to come."

"then you'll come to the market with me tomorrow."

"finnick-"

"you're gonna have to pick something because I'm not going to let you rot away anymore. I love you and I need you to take care of yourself, you need to talk to people."

"finn, I'm fine, I just need you."

and he wants to fold for his sweet girl so bad but he has to be strong because he has to get her on a path to healing, it was okay at first, but way too much time has passed and it can't become permanent. so he's clenching his jaw, rubbing his forehead, taking a deep breath, ignoring her pleading eyes.

"they're coming."

"I'll lock myself in the bathroom."

and then he's crying because he just wants to help his sweet girl and his heart aches. he doesn't want to be sobbing the way he is, but it's like he can't stop. it's overwhelmed his senses. and then she's flooded with guilt again and she's crying too.

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult, you deserve better."

and then his heart hurts more when he goes to hug her, to comfort her and she's stepping away because she refuses to accept said comfort. and there's a silence besides the simmering food and sniffling tears before he's able to compose himself enough.

"mags, the market, or dinner? you choose, but you have to choose now or they will come. "

they both know he's strong enough to stop her from running into the bathroom so there's another silence. before she's slowly, shamefully walking towards him, carefully grabbing his hand and tracing up his arm.

"you've already started dinner and it's too late to cancel."

she's muttering it looking at the floor and he can't help but suddenly feel so relieved and ecstatic, so hopeful

"really?"

his voice glimmering so slightly and she's nodding, continuing her patterns up his arm before he's hugging her with all of his warmth. and he's filled with excitement because she's taking a step, she's trying. and it's a rough night, but she tries. the conversation gets awkward and clunky, but she talks, and by the end of the night she's a little less sure her friends despise her.

it still takes nearly two years for her to just be friends again, but she makes small steps through the storm.

and also beckett and tallulah totally end up getting married years later and reader is a bridesmaid, so she does eventually once again become a pretty functioning member of society, up until the quarter quell.

[jfleamont]

The beatles fic

I always thought that "i want to hold your hand" is so jily (James😌) coded!

Hii and thank you ❤️ yes, you read my mind! The pining in the song is definitely James coded lol I also thought this could be a sequel to this!

Her legs are intertwined with his; she's curled around him, and the palm of her hand is resting on his chest.

Their breaths have slowed down and the silence of the room is comforting, in a way. James brings his hand to his chest, covering hers. His eyes are closed, but he's not sleeping: she can tell by the slight crease between his brows that he's thinking. He wants to say something.

“Hey.”

He opens one eye, and smiles at her. He's so beautiful. “Hi.”

“You're awfully quiet. It's odd.”

He laughs, and she blushes. “I know, it's weirding me out, too. I guess I'm just enjoying this moment,” he replies, carding his fingers through her hair with his free hand.

“Committing this moment to memory, are you?” she jokes, but knows in her heart that it's the truth.

She loves him. She knows he feels the same.

He hasn't said it in words, but she recognises the longing look in his eyes; she often catches him watching her from afar with a serious, almost solemn expression on his face, as if he's surrendered to the intensity of his feelings for her and doesn’t know what to do with them, where to put them.

She knows it because she feels it too, and she can't imagine a future without him, and she's terrified.

“Yeah,” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

“I don't want to leave, you know that,” she tells him. She needs him to believe her.

“I know, I know, it's just— you don't have to go alone,” he looks nervous now, “I could go with you.”

Lily has thought about this a lot, bringing him home for the holidays, but her sister would hate having another freak at her first Christmas party as a married woman.

Besides, they aren't even together. Not really. They've kept it secret for over a month, and spending the holidays together isn't exactly laying low. She was afraid that people were going to judge her for not taking her role as Head Girl seriously, but it all seems a bit stupid now.

“Or I could stay, tell my family that there's a snowstorm and that the train can't leave.”

James snorts. “I'm not that good at charms, Lily, so if you were counting on me to do that I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. And I don't think they'd believe you, there are spells for those emergencies,” he remarks, but then his eyes widen, shocked. “Wait... They're aware magic is real, right?”

He's kidding, of course, and Lily shouldn't laugh at such a lame joke, but she does. “I'm trying to come up with a solution here and you're mocking me? Maybe I do want to leave.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” and before she can stop him - not that she wants to - his lips are on hers.

The kiss is heady; he removes the hand that was previously on top of hers on his chest and she misses its warmth at first, but then he cradles her cheek, and she forgets all about it.

Her own hand reaches his hair, which she tugs gently: he seems to enjoy it if the groan that spills from his lips is anything to go by. She doesn't know how long the kiss lasts, and when he draws away, she knows she'll see the lust, his pupils blown, almost entirely black.

What she doesn't expect, is the profound tenderness of his gaze; his eyes look watery, and she already knows what he's going to say.

“I want to hold your hand, Lily. I wanna snog you in public, I want to hold you close in front of our friends and have them make fun of us. I wanna be so disgustingly in love with you that people think I'm pathetic,” he's caressing her face and sighs when she mirrors him, her hand tracing the line of his jaw.

“I can't promise you that it'll be easy, that people won't talk. But it won't be worse than this, worse than staying away from each other.”

She can't contain her smile as she surges forward to kiss him.

“Yes, James,” she says as she pecks him all over his face. He's laughing too, now.

“Yes?” he sounds - and looks - relieved.

“I was going to tell you this, you just beat me to it. I don't care what they think, these are my last few months at Hogwarts and I'm tired of making things unnecessarily hard for myself.”

James chuckles, and lets Lily straddle him, his hands falling to her waist. “You tend to do that, yeah.”

[silverynight]

The bride

The barbarians have come to the village so their King can choose someone to get married to, or at least that's what everyone's talking about those days. Izuku is not sure what to think of it, he knows it's important for his village to form an alliance with them because they have protected them countless of times, but he truly hopes both the King and his future bride are happy with the decision.

He doesn't have the time to see what's going to happen though because he needs to start traveling again; he's gathered so much information on his notebook about magical creatures (especially dragons) although it is not enough in Izuku's opinion.

However, his attention is drawn towards one of the barbarians; it's a tall and well built blond boy with a constant scowl on his face whose back is completely inked. He has a huge dragon painted on his back. Izuku has heard the ink stays permanently on the barbarians bodies so it's very fortunate that the person who inked him was very talented.

The ink is completely dark and yet Izuku recognizes the type of dragon immediately.

He gets excited and forgets is not safe to approach a grumpy stranger with many weapons on him like they have known each other their whole lives.

"Is that a red dragon, right?" Izuku can't stop himself at that point. "I can tell by looking at the shape of his wings!"

"Hah?" The initial irritation disappears from the barbarian's face as soon as he turns around to look at Izuku. "How do you know?"

"I've seen them!" Izuku beams. "Never too close, but at least enough to draw a couple on my journal... They're very powerful, one of the most powerful dragon species... Oh, I'm sorry, sometimes I can't stop myself from rambling..."

"It's alright," the barbarian smirks, grabbing his face with one hand, squeezing his cheeks. "I suppose it's normal for a nerd like you. What's your name?"

"Midoriya Izuku," he says, finally stepping back.

"Deku?"

"No, Izuku! Besides, we just met, you have to call me Midoriya!"

"I'll call you however I want, Deku!" The barbarian doesn't look irritated though, he almost seems amused.

"What's your name?"

"Katsuki."

"That's your given name, what about your family name?" Izuku asks, rolling his eyes as he notices the huge grin on Katsuki's face.

"I won't tell you."

"Then how am I supposed to call you?"

"Katsuki," he says like it's obvious, then he leans closer to Izuku only to cup his face with both hands again.

It seems barbarians know nothing about personal space.

"I can't, we just met!"

"I don't care!"

"Then I'll have to call you Kacchan," Izuku says, trying not to chuckle as Katsuki narrows his eyes at him. "It's only fair since you call me Deku!"

"Tch! Fine!" Katsuki huffs, surprising Izuku by agreeing way too fast...

"Are you one of the King's guards?"

For a moment it seems he offended Katsuki somehow, but his expression changes quickly and the blond nods.

"Yes, that's exactly what I am... A guard."

"That's amazing! So you'll probably be with him when he chooses his bride!"

"Exactly," Katsuki grins, pinching one of Izuku's cheeks, making the green haired boy pout. "I know I'm supposed... I mean he has to choose someone from all the people they'll present to him, but actually anyone from the village will do."

"I just hope they both agree to this," Izuku comments, a little bit worried as he rubs his cheek.

"So... You like to travel, right, Izuku?"

"Yes!" The green haired boy nods enthusiastically. "The world has a lot of interesting things I can't wait to see!"

"We barbarians travel a lot too, you know? You can come with me if you want..."

"Really?" Izuku grins. It'll be interesting traveling with them, at least for a while. "Yes, thank you! I'd love to!"

"Great!" Katsuki smiles from ear to ear like it's the best day of his of his life. "Now come with me to the selection."

Izuku doesn't have much of a choice actually, since the barbarian has grabbed one of his hands and is using it to pull him next to him.

They get to the heart of the village where the curious people have gathered around a line of boys and girls with the most expensive and beautiful clothes he's ever seen. Izuku knows the elders would never present someone like him as potential bride for a King. At least he feels relieved when he realizes everyone in line looks very excited about the whole thing.

They're standing in front of a strong barbarian woman who actually looks a lot like Katsuki. They call her Queen mother... She must be Bakugo Mitsuki... But it doesn't make any–

"Old hag!" Katsuki says, prompting Izuku to look in shock at the rude way he speaks to the Queen... Why is he doing that? "There's no need for this, I've already chosen someone!"

"I can see that, brat," she smirks, eyes finally meeting Izuku's. "He's too pretty for you though..."

Oh, no. Katsuki is not... He can't be–

"But my King," one of the villagers protests. It seems one of his daughters is in line. "Midoriya is a nobody..."

Katsuki growls, startling the man.

"Don't you dare say that about my future bride again!"

The people in line sigh in disappointment before quietly leaving the place, the man shivers, but nods before bowing in front of Katsuki, Izuku and the Queen.

The green haired boy is too confused and shocked to react. He's not... The crowned King cannot be Katsuki and he didn't just call him his future bride.

That didn't happen.

"Are you the King?"

"Of course, Deku!" Katsuki turns around with a grin on his face, he leans closer to nuzzle against the shocked boy's cheek. "And you'll be Queen consort soon."

"But..."

"Don't worry, cutie, I'll teach you everything you need to know first," Bakugo Mitsuki assures him. "There'll be plenty of time for that since my son has to win your heart first."

"I never lose anything, Deku," Katsuki grins with confidence before pulling the flustered boy against his bare chest.

"Please do ignore my son," she says, ruffling Izuku's hair affectionately, prompting Katsuki to growl at her. "You can say no at the end of the courtship, but at least give him a chance."

"O-Okay," he stammers, still having no idea what he got himself into this time. Although he can't say he's not attracted to Katsuki already.

"Great!" The blond smiles triumphantly scooping him up before walking towards one of the red tents in the middle of the village. "We have a lot to talk about, Deku!"

"Oi, brat! He won't be sleeping in your tent! So don't get any ideas! You haven't even given him his first courting gift yet!"

Katsuki purposely ignores her, although he puts one of his own necklaces around Izuku's neck once they're alone.

"Are you sure about this, Kacchan?"

"Of course I am," the barbarian says, almost outraged at the question. "I'll win your heart, Deku! You'll be mine!"

Izuku's face turns bright red and he wonders what kind of trouble he's in right before Katsuki pulls him closer and kisses him on the lips until all his worries disappear.

He can definitely get used to that.

***

Patreon

[auxiliarydetective]

OHC Day Six: Role Swap AU

But I'm Just A Tailor

The person we'll be displacing from their canon today is my beloved fashion icon, Akaito Coraline. And it all started with this gif:

Look at that lacing! At first, I was just joking about how Cora would be obsessing over that detail, and care less about how she was damn near being sliced up by Mihawk then about finding out who made that coat for him.

But then it came to me.

What if she made it?

I hereby present to you... Akaito Coraline - Cross Guild AU

Normally, I don't give warnings on the specifics of spoilers after OPLA (unless they're also spoilers for more recent animanga happenings), but in this case:

This post will include spoilers on the arcs that OPLA Season 2 will be based on! If you want to avoid those, click away now!

This also means that the exact happenings on how this AU would play out will necessarily change once season 2 is out, but for now, I'll be working with what I know about Alabasta.

SO!

The first divergence is that, instead of ending up in the East Blue after fleeing from Germa, Cora runs straight into Sir Crocodile's arms. And Crocodile is no fool. He's a very informed man, so he realized who Cora is very quickly. As such, he hires her into Baroque Works as his personal tailor, under the codename Miss .

He promises her that she'll have all she could ask for. All she has to do is to make clothes for him and to keep quiet about his operations. No assassinations required. That doesn't mean he doesn't support her in learning to fight with her rapier and devil fruit though.

It doesn't take long for him to introduce Cora to the royal family of Alabasta. They're kind and welcoming and give Cora a lot of freedom in learning about the country's culture, its fashion and different methods of clothing design. Cora finds herself growing close to Princess Vivi especially, but she knows it's only temporary.

Things start to turn chaotic when a group of teenagers who call themselves the Straw Hat Pirates start picking fights with Baroque Works. They wreak havoc in Whiskey Peak - taking in Vivi in the process -, defeat multiple agents on Little Garden and even steal an Eternal Pose to Alabasta! Sir Crocodile is very upset and Cora can feel trouble brewing. The ever-terrifying Miss All Sunday is acting strangely too.

But then, the Straw Hats show up at the Rainbase Casino.

Cora's entire world is turned around.

Suddenly, things aren't easy anymore.

There's a man on the phone with Sir Crocodile, someone who identifies himself as Mr Prince. His voice is oddly familiar. Too familiar for Cora to just sit idly. She finds the mysterious man in the middle of the casino, and her heart nearly stops when she sees him. Because it's Sanji. The Sanji she has been mourning for over ten years, who she thought was dead. She knows it's him but he won't stop pretending that he doesn't know who she is. He has to know, she saw it in his eyes, but he doesn't want to let her in.

"It's because we're supposed to be enemies now, isn't it?"

No matter what she tries, he won't drop his act.

That is until they meet again in the middle of a civil war and Sanji is fighting Mr 2, one of Baroque Works's best agents... and one of Cora's best friends. Mr 2 has the ability to change into anyone he has touched, which is part of how he fights. Change into people his opponents care about and hit them when they're paralysed and conflicted. Just as Cora arrives, she can see Mr 2 wearing her face, see Sanji refusing to hit someone who looks like her. Now he can't lie to her anymore.

In a move that her boss would only consider stupid, Cora steps between the two combatants, nearly getting herself stabbed. But it works. Even without her drawing her rapier, neither of them want to hurt her.

The civil war for Alabasta ends. Baroque Works has fallen. With no other options, Cora leaves Alabasta with the Straw Hats on their ship, but she can't get herself to stay. She's just not cut out for a pirate's life. After all, she's just a tailor. So, she leaves the ship at the next island, aiming to find a job with the Marines instead. Surely, they need someone to make the thousands of uniforms they need, right? It sounds like the perfect stable job.

But things turn out very differently. Cora does find work with the Marines, but not making uniforms. Instead, she's tailoring the suits and coats for the upper ranks. But this job is anything but stable. It doesn't take long for a big execution to take place at Marine Headquarters. A war breaks out, with Cora getting stuck right in the middle. She tries her best to avoid the fighting, to defend herself whenever she can, but the chaos is so fundamental that she can't do anything except hide and wait for it to be over.

When the smoke clears, Cora finds herself staring it to piercing, golden eyes of Dracule Hawk Eyes Mihawk, a Warlord just like Crocodile had been. He... kidnaps her(?)... out of the ruins of Marineford and brings her with him to his island, a dark and gloomy place with a large castle in the middle. Apparently, there's a whiny ghost girl on the island too... and Zoro, that green-haired swordsman that was with the Straw Hats. Neither of them are supposed to be here, it seems. But Mihawk, despite his cold exterior, lets them stay. And he'll let Cora stay too, if she makes clothes for him, that is. As it turns out, the World's Greatest Swordsman is into fashion. Who knew!

It's definitely not what Cora had expected her life to become. Living in a castle on an otherwise uninhabited island (safe for the killer gorillas), alongside a moody swordsman, a quirky goth girl and a mossheaded, directionally challenge pirate, albeit the latter only temporarily. But using her skills and passion and having discussions about fashion in return for meals, a home and swordfighting lessons from the World's Greatest... Not a bad deal.

Finally, a stable employment... right?

No, this AU is called Cross Guild AU for a reason, her state of employment will change again, though not as drastically. But this post is already long enough, and if you know about the Cross Guild, you know where this story is headed.

General Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats

One Piece Taglist: @supermarine-silvally

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[thebigpapilio]

Okay, Mario Fandom, hear me out.

@elitadream @akiiame-blog @palskippah I hope you don't mind me tagging you again!

I know we don't have anything modern and concrete about Peach's parents, but hear me out about this poly crackship I've developed:

Toadsworth x the King and Queen of the Mushroom Kingdom.

Imagine Toadsworth, a staunch ally of the Toadstool Royal Family since the matriarch and patriarch wandered into the Mushroom World (some people fan-call it Nin, if I recall correctly), falling in love with them.

(I like to think Toadsworth has the charisma to get with anyone, maybe even having a slew of past partners, but choosing King and Queen Toadstool in the end.)

Imagine the Queen getting pregnant. Imagine the day Peach was born. Imagine the day Toadsworth saw his youngest ward for the first time, and bursting into great tears that never quite washed out of his bowtie. Imagine Toadsworth watching his princess grow up.

Imagine the Koopa Kingdom declaring war on the Mushroom Kingdom. Imagine Toadsworth helping the King and Queen as best he can protect his home, their home, their kingdom, all the while biting down the feelings he never had for anyone else in his life. Star Spirits know they have more on their plate than I'd wish on anyone. They have a kingdom to run and another to fend off - professing my affections for them aren't going to do any of us any good.

Imagine the day Toadsworth's lord and lady were ambushed while on a walk with him, blasted with a deadly spell by Magikoopa. Imagine Toadsworth and his fellow stewards poring over every book of magic they have available, seeing if there's a counter-spell, a cure, anything to keep the pain away from their eyes.

Imagine the day Toadsworth lost them.

Imagine Peach becoming Toadsworth's raison d'être, because while the whole kingdom mourned, nobody grieved quite as much as him and the Princess. Imagine the night that Peach woke Toadsworth up screaming from a nightmare. Imagine Toadsworth fervently promising her he won't leave her for as long as he draws breath.

Imagine Toadsworth picking himself up every day for the sole purpose of making sure Peach wouldn't be alone or unprepared to lead the kingdom when the fateful day he couldn't hold out any longer came.

Imagine Mario and Luigi appearing in the Mushroom Kingdom. Imagine Toadsworth seeing everything he and his lord and his lady were and could have been in Mario and his princess, and deciding he deserves nothing less a Game Over in the deepest pit the Underwhere can find if he can't get those two together before he's gone.

Imagine the day Mario and Peach get their acts together. Imagine the day Mario asks Toadsworth's permission to marry Peach. Imagine the wedding, and Mario being nervous Peach will back out. Imagine Toadsworth telling him his side of the story about Peach's parents, and that neither he nor Peach nor Luigi would let Mario hear the end of any cold feet.

Imagine Toadsworth and Mario's mama and papa getting drunk on the best liquor they could find on Earth, crying about their children and how far they've come.

Imagine when Peach tells Toadsworth they're expecting, if you'd like to headcanon that they have kids. Imagine him freaking out for all the best and worst reasons for the next nine months, the fretting not stopping until his grandchild is asleep and swaddled up in their Mama and Papa's arms.

Imagine Toadsworth holding his grandchild (grandchild, yes; Peach and Mario made it clear Toadsworth was their nonno) for the first time, wishing with all his heart that the man and the woman who he loved and never had enough bravery nor got enough time to tell them are able to see him and Peach from the Overthere.

[whichcouldmeannothing]

everywhere at the end of time (memoryloss!spiderdads)

I COULDNT GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD me and my friend were gossiping about memory loss aus and this appeared...

i probably won't write this out but i wanted u guys to see it and scream w me

thank u for the warm reception for paper rings <3 let me finish some stuff up and then I'll get smth out for u

why yes this is post btsv i just wanted miles here

Peter doesn't blame them, really.

When Miguel told him that a Spider-Person had gone insanely rogue and created a memory-erasing gun, Peter wasn't even that surprised. There was plenty he would want to forget as Spider-Man, certain endorsements and franchises that displayed his mask.

Then Miguel told him that this guy saw their entire family killed by the Sinister Six, and was stuck in a Mysterio-induced hallucination of the memory. They relived it over and over again before the Avengers in their universe found them.

And Peter doesn't blame them at all for doing that.

But what he is doing here in Earth-5338 is making sure that this Spider-Person doesn't do this to other Spider-People. There's a decent amount of them here, Gwen, Miles and Jessica. It's a risky mission of course, but it should just be destroy-the-gizmo and extract-them.

This should be easy.

They're in their lab in Earth-5338. A spare suit hangs from a case, light blue with pink and white accents. Spinner, a sign by it reads. On the wall behind it are drawings of the spider in action, drawn in crayon.

It's something Mayday has done, and his chest constricts.

Someone lays a hand on him, ever-cautious, and Peter looks up at Miguel. It's battle time, so his mask is pulled up. But Peter knows that under it, his lips are just-kissed glossy. He grins at the memory of their pre-mission makeout session. He leans forward, careful to keep his voice down.

"Care for a repeat, ninety-nine?" Miguel has the shame to turn away. His cheeks are probably flaring red, and Peter pulls him closer.

Miguel traces two fingers down Peter's arm, stopping at his wrist. "

"Stay safe." Commanding. It's his way of affection.

"Back to you." Peter replies.

The memory cuts off here. The orange hologram freezes, and Miguel is allowed to fixate on the unhidden affection in Peter's eyes. The colour always reminded him of how Peter drank his tea. English breakfast, with enough milk to turn it opaque and turned sweet with an ungodly amount of sugar.

There's a small smile there on him, and Miguel wants to live in this moment again.

"Lyla, again."

"Miguel, this-"

"Again." He growls it this time.

The orange figures reset and all Miguel looks at is Peter. He will always turn to Peter first. He walks up to the costume case, laying his fingers on the sign.

"Is that me?" The memory breaks like shattered glass. Miguel turns around, and about ten feet below him is Peter.

But somehow, it isn't his Peter.

Miguel turns away again and breathes. He does it slow and quiet, unlike how his heart sounds like in his ears.

"I asked for you when I woke up again. I called you the scary big one, and people seemed to know who you were," Peter's joking, of course he's joking, but it's the way his voice sounds. The way his smile, his stupid grin is so evident in his voice that makes Miguel grip his table, until his claws are leaving marks.

"You know who I am, don't you?" Peter asks. "Who I was or whatever?"

Peter woke up with Miguel holding his hand. Peter pushed him away and asked for Aunt May. When rebuffed, he asked for Uncle Ben. He was scared of Miguel, eyes going wide at the talons on his suit.

The doctor eventually got him sedated and asleep again, but he pulled Miguel aside after. "He might not get his memories back. But we'll play our odds. We'll take it slow. "

Miguel nods. He didn't have to have the Spider-Sense, to know that Miles and Gwen were listening behind the wall. He could hear them whispering. He plans to scold them later, so he doesn't have to picture his future without his Peter.

"We have to keep memory dumps slow, so he won't get overwhelmed." Is there anything else other than being Spider-Man that might shock 616-B, something very different from what he knew before he became Spider-Man?"

"You were beside my bed. You know me, don't you?" Peter asks again.

Miguel breathes in. Breathes out. He closes his eyes.

"No."

-

<3

[anjumzm]

Midsummer Night

A Legacy of Gods Fanfic.

JerCes Daughter x LanMia Son

Chapter 7

Aanya Volkov

The "Le Flamington"  was a luxurious café located in the heart of the city. Above the café we had some IT and Finance corporations, it was always buzzing with people coming in and out even at odd times. Me, Rebecca and Gina frequented the café, all thanks to Ms.Gina King and her influence and also the fact that some one from their family literally owned the entire building.

Nothing shocking there, the rate at which the Kings owned most of the buildings here, I wonder if they wanted to buy entire London off.

I just want this nightmare to be over.

Like he'd said, the driver picked me up from my college around 12:45 pm. I'd asked him to pick me up from the back gate, hopefully the guards didn't notice my absence given that my classes were still going on. I'll have to wrap up whatever absurdity this is and get back before someone reports me missing and Dad brings his army here to escort me back home.

Just when I'm about to message Caleb, I feel arms around me, from the back caging me, long, veiny fingers splayed on the table.

"Hello, little bird" He whispers.

Chills run down my spine and goosebumps erect on my arms,my entire body stiffens, as though it's readying itself for flight or fight mode, sensing that in the moment I'm a prey with the attention of a predator on me.

"Theo" My voice sounds like a whisper to me, a bit shaky. He gets around the table, dripping confidence as though he owns the entire world and sits in the chair opposite me, his fingers locked and his chin resting on it. He watches me with amusement, a small smirk playing on his handsome face.

He's a King, through and through.

Wait, Handsome face??

Who am I kidding,  ofcourse he is handsome, the moment he walked in I could see the group of girls seated on the table opposite ours, giggling and whispering with awe on their faces.

The vermin knows this fact for sure, judging by the wink he threw to the waitress passing by.

"Well, do you plan to give me back our Book and stop this madness, I'm sure you've had your fill of drama for the week"

"Aren't you a charmer, miss Volkov, and straight to the point,I like it. By the way you look lovely today, although one might argue that you look lovely everyday"

"Cut the Crap, Mr.King and give us whats ours. There are many lives at stake ,Theo, why won't you understand this? Today or later my brothers might connect the dots and know that you're the one behind the theft and I don't need to fill you with details of the aftermath, while I couldn't give a damn about you, there's Aunt Annika, Rebecca and Gina. I don't want you to be the reason that we entirely distance ourselves from the Kings for good"

He doesn't say a word, not one and keeps staring at me with his dark blue eyes that are void of any emotions, the constant smirk pasted on his face.

"I'm tired. Let's get this done with, Tell me, What do you want, why did you call me here?" I say with a calm I'm not feeling at the moment.

"I want you to get engaged to me"

I freeze, I can hear ringing in my ears, but then I shake my head, the absurdity of the words drawing a full fledged laugh out of me, so much so that the people around me start staring at  me as though I'm an idiot.

"Sorry, I think I heard you wrong, what did you say again?"

"You heard me right, Aanya, I want you to be my fiancé, for us to get engaged"

"Are you drunk, or has someone's curse finally reached you, are you losing your mind?"

"As absurd it may sound, I assure you it's the only way for you to get your book back, the only way to save your family from the Bratva's wrath"

"My father would never ever agree to this, you know how he loathes your father and thinks you to be the same as him, he literally thinks you guys are a menace to the society and belong to some mental asylum, not to mention the beef you have with both my brothers, judging that they're aware that you were the one who leaked Mr.Williamson's data, my father doesn't know about this for the same reason that I've kept quite, we love Aunt Annika a lot. So as much as you would like us to be "engaged" it will never happen"

"Then you better get to work Aanya, I'll be visiting my Grandparents in the US next week, I want you to put this out on the table before your family, and convince them by hook or by crook. If by the end of my visit I don't get a reply from you Ms.Volkov, I'll personally hand over the Black book to the Pakhan"

I'm at loss of words, I feel as though the world's spinning, my hearts beating faster trying to make sense of his words.

"Why do you want us to get engaged Theo, what do you plan? Is your Grandfather aware of this? Your parents?"

"You don't need to concern yourselves with my plans Ms.Volkov, you do your part and I'll do mine and at the end of it we both get what we want, as for my family, my Grandfather won't meddle in my business for a while, my father would always support me, as for my mother....like you said let's not taint the relations my mother and yours have, the only thing they need to know is that we are to be engaged"

"You're a monster Theo, a narcissist, unfeeling monster who wouldn't care if the world burns at his feet, as long as he gets what he wants"

"Like I said, tell me something I don't know sweetheart. As lovely as this conversation with you has been, I need to get back to the priority tasks at hand. Remember, you've got one week Aanya, don't think too much about it, since patience is not one of my virtues" He gets up and leaves through the door at my left.

What do I do now?

Till the end if the day I'm so exhausted, that I collapse as soon as I lay on my bed at Caleb and Jaspers house. At around 3 am in night I go to the kitchen to get some water, and find my brother and cousin whispering to themselves.

"Seriously Caleb, Knock some sense into Aaron, man. At this rate he'll either end up killed or in Jail, there's only so much our parents influence can do" Jasper says.

"I'm trying Jasper, gods I'm trying. There's... something going on back at home, it's affected him badly, he's become like this bull, Punch first and ask questions later. He's usually calm and composed, this is the first time he's acting so out of character, as if he can no longer control himself" Caleb says running his palm through his face.

I can see worry etched on his face. Caleb never shows it but he's the most understanding, the most calm and collected person, who always has a plan and tries to stick to it, but I can see that he's tired. My brother Aaron, I've never seen him turn this violent like Caleb says, but all of this is also messing with his mental health. With all that's going on, I'm sure my parents and grandparents are having a difficult time too.

I know exactly what I need to do. With newfound courage and determination I take out my phone and write

'I'm ready. I'll get engaged to you, give me sometime and I'll convince my family'

The reply is quick

'Looking forward to it, Ms.Volkov'

I need a break. I really need a break.

[spaceratprodigy]

The Siren Song of Devil's Peak

yes I am using this drawing as a cover image again lmao it cracks me up and I didn't feel like making something else. I think it's still rather fitting ✏

"Welcome back, Captain" Ada greeted as Faith stepped through the door of the Unreliable, her companions not far behind her.

Faith had been more quiet than usual.

She didn't want to be here, didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. The stillness of her room had been suffocating. She had been spending more and more days away, wandering anywhere she could on Monarch.

Her friends, however, were tired.

They needed a break, food, for Ellie to make sure they weren't falling apart. Faith needed it, too, but her body wouldn't let her stop. She was ready to head back out.

"Hey Boss," Felix chimed "are you feeling-"

"I'm fine" Faith cut him off sharply, immediately looking down in shame. "I'm sorry."

"Cap, we're worried about you. You need to rest" Parvati said, her tone more concerned than usual.

"I'll be fine, I need to go back out there."

"For what? Boss, you need to stop. We have to talk about this" Felix interjected.

"We don't have to talk about anything. You two get some rest, I'll see if Nyoka and Ellie-"

"No!" Felix's worry was turning into frustration "look, I'm sorry but.. I don't want you to get hurt. You can't keep running away."

"Cap.." Parvati was softer now "you're not in a good way and this isn't healthy."

Faith knew they were right. She was avoiding the fact she had to confront the problem in front of her sooner or later. That's why she won't sit still, why she keeps running headfirst into the Monarch wilds against everyone's warning.

Can't feel how much pain she's in if she's too distracted defending herself from things trying to kill her from all angles.

"Cap, you need to sort this mess out. I know he hurt you, but.. you and Max need to talk about this."

"Hah!" Felix was annoyed "you mean Max needs to come down here and apologize for being an ass. Boss, why are we even keeping him around after the way he lied to you?"

"Felix, I don't wanna.." Faith began but trailed off.

Because I don't want him to leave.

"At least talk to us about it. We're your best friends and we want what's best for you." She knew Felix was being sincere.

"Yeah, Cap. We're family, we don't want you goin' through this alone."

Faith didn't know what to say. She appreciated how much her crew, her friends, were trying to help her. Her heart was just in so much pain. She was confused, scared, she didn't really know what she wanted.

I want Max.

"I.. I.." she was trying. "Thank you.."

"Captain," Ada's voice rang through "you have a call coming in from Devil's Peak Station."

Parvati and Felix glanced at each other nervously.

"Hey Boss.. maybe you shouldn't take that call.." Felix began to say, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why? Hiram's my friend" Faith was surprised at her companions reactions.

"Well, yeah.. but.." Parvati was trying to think of what to say "last time you were hidin' out there, you and Mister Blythe were gettin' real close.."

Faith was waiting to see where this conversation was leading.

"We just think that maybe.. havin' him in the picture is makin' things.."

"Worse" Felix butted in.

"Well, No! I mean.. not worse.. just.. complicated?" Parvati's voice cracked.

Faith stood there in silence, crossing her arms. Her friends were babbling, unsure of how to get their point across gently.

"Boss, please just listen to us on this one" Felix finally said.

"There's a lot of hurt and raw emotions in the air right now. We just think the closer you get to that Broker fella.."

"Everything is going to be fine" Faith finally spoke "Hiram and I are.. just friends."

Why did I hesitate?

Felix and Parvati noticed, giving each other another worried glance.

What are they so worked up about? Faith thought, walking away to answer the call.

They're acting like I'm gonna fall for the guy or something.

We're just friends.. Right?

Her heart was beating hard now.

Oh stars..

She answered the call and Hiram's face popped up on the screen.

Dammit.

"Ah, Captain! There you are. Thought for a moment you may have forgotten about me."

The snark in his voice would have been of annoyance to others, but she had come to learn this was him being rather playful. In his own way, of course.

"I could never, Hiram."

"Are you still on Monarch by any chance?"

"Suppose I am, what would The Great Broker ever want with me? Need someone to get their hands dirty for you again?"

She knew how to play right back.

Hiram flashed her a small smile, immediately finding his serious face again.

"Come to my station, will you? I want to speak to you directly."

"Oh! How unusual of you to want to do business in person" Faith teased, unsure why she was trying to sound her flavor of freelance professional, Felix and Parvati's little talk was making her nervous.

"Let me get my crew and-"

"No" Hiram said sternly "I wish to speak to you." He swallowed, trying to keep his cool.

"Alone."

"Sounds a little dangerous doesn't it?" Faith rarely went anywhere without backup.

"You've done it before. Just to seek me out. All by your lonesome, might I add" he gave her a subtle grin "be a doll and do this for me, yes? I'll be expecting you."

Hiram hung up before Faith could get another word in.

Sly bastard.

Faith turned back towards the door, already knowing Parvati and Felix were still standing there. Waiting with concern. Knowing better than to leave their captain alone again in fear of what trouble she might get herself into next.

Fuck.

[iron-sparrow]

直率 【 zhíshuài 】 blunt adjective

being straight to the point : DIRECT

"Why don't you come back with me?" the Crow asks. He's lost count of how many times he's said those very same words, in that same exact order and inflection. 

I can't. I won't. The Sparrow's answer is not much of an answer at all, and they know it. But it's the only one they ever really have for him. 

The not-so-little bird with too many names leans their back against the stonework framing them. One arm extends to prop over their knee, most of it bundled in a soft layer to keep their sensitive burn scars out of sight and protected from too much sun or moisture (or anything). 

The air beyond this quiet meeting place inside hidden ruins is cool and wet, and cloaks the woods in a dense fog. The quiet is a comfort, but it doesn't last. 

"The air here is easier to breathe," Crow remarks from his leaning spot.

Sparrow turns their head but only just enough to bring the other Duskwight into the very edge of their vision. He looks comfortable there, hidden in the dark with only the glimmer of his jasper eyes giving him away. As they continue to focus in his direction, an outline begins to form, and soon they're able to make out the detailed image of their brother. Still, they withhold whatever thoughts the comment about the climate might have inspired. Crow will eventually grow tired of waiting and fill the silence. 

He does, only after a few seconds. 

"It suits you, yes? The woods," Crow continues. "You were not meant to dwell in the desert. You should be in the place that birthed you. With the people who can understand you." 

Sparrow angles their head away and closes their eyes. The gentle rain echoes against their tattered ear, creeping into their thoughts and trying to fight for attention. They can hear Crow speaking to their right -- of things like family and belonging, of vengeance and shared pain. 

"You should be with your brother. Our blood runs through the same rivers." 

The man who shares their eyes hasn't stopped. He isn't done. Because he knows that none of this is getting through to Sparrow. 

“When we die, our spirits will find peace with our own kin. Remember that." 

Sparrow sucks in a breath through their teeth. Their head lifts, the rounded point of their chin drawing two more ilms away from their throat. Their one jasper eye opens to acknowledge the physical world again but refuses to look at the other Duskwight. 

"It is true that you are my brother, born from the same river. But we emerged on opposite shores and have walked different paths. These paths have converged to bring us together again, but mine has been absent of your song." 

Ears far too sensitive for the surface world catch the sharp breath Crow takes at hearing their reply. Sparrow spins away from their brother to slide their legs from the ledge, with a soft groan from their hide armor and a whisper of airy linens. Behind them, Crow is moving at long last, urged away from his spot by the threat of their departure.

“Why?” he pleads, the deep gravel in his voice smoothed away by palpable sadness. “How can you say this to me when we are all that is left?” 

How their heart sinks at hearing his pained tone. Nevertheless, Sparrow persists.

“Because the past we loved is not the future we are meant to pursue."

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

7, 8, and 11 from the thingy that you rb earlier

:))

OG List

(I apologize in advance for the long answers, I just love answering stuff like that and I have a lot to say :] )

7. Your favourite tropes to read/write/draw

(I love them all the same, but it is slightly different for each, so I'm making a destinction)

Read: Honestly, kidnapping. I love characters getting kidnapped, and their loved ones worrying/rescuing them. This also includes more-or-less any type of 'going missing'-plot (incl. Char A just running away themselves). Just the feeling of "I have no idea where or how they are, and if they're even still alive", and then the relief when they meet again. Hmmm

Write: 'The world has been cruel and hard to you - therefore I won't be. I want to show you the beauty it has to offer, too <3' This is the best way I can describe it. Characters who've just had a rough time/life being unconditionally cared for and supported. Getting everything their heart has desired for so long. Short: Hurt/Comfort

Draw: While I have yet to draw this myself, actually (because humanoids are hard), any drawing of one character being hurt or scared, while another stands over them caringly and protectively - obviously willing to kick some ass if needed - has me go wild.

8. You hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc)

I understand that some people find the market oversaturated by now - that's valid - but still: Redemption

I love redemption so much. I want the story to gently cup a character's face and say "You are broken, but not beyond repair. You can get better, and be happy, and be surrounded by people you love and that love you back." They don't even necessarily need trauma or have gone down a super dark path, I also enjoy: "Character is a massive jerk, and we follow them down the road of being less of a jerk". These are honestly the main reasons both the 'Good Uncle Sly' and 'Apple Cousins' AUs exist.

There are few exceptions I can think of, of villains I'm personally obsessed with, and have not made a version of, where they are redeemed. I look at Reginald Bushroot, and Camille Chameleon, and the Dark Curse - and while for some more than others - there will usually be something at the back of my mind asking: "What if you didn't have to? What if you found love? What if you got to live a quiet, gentle life? What if one day you realized you live in a reality you would never have imagined come true? In a good way? What if everyone could be okay?"

Just

Redemption

11. If you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

Fic: Family Discount

I was honestly surprised how many people liked that fic. Between 11 fics in total, this one definitely has some of my favourite comments (and it also has a surprsing amount of comments, I didn't expect that tbh). I was a little worried about posting a fanfic chapter-by-chapter, because the last time I tried that I basically (though not officially yet) stopped after one, because I can't write slice of life, it seems.

But so many people got emotionally invested in my writing, and I honestly didn't expect that? But even though I'm forced to take a semi-long break (for exam reasons), it is extremely motivating, and makes me feel that (as vague as it sounds), my stories do do something. How much joy the stuff you make can bring other people, is honestly so cool. Even if it's just a little fanart, or an ask, or a slightly-self-indulgent fanfic :)

I'm proud of having actually got this far, and also having written something me and other people love to read

Art:

I'm actually a little embarassed of this drawing, which I know sounds counter-intuitive to the prompt, but I swear, there is a reason it's here!

This is my first, and currently only drawing of the Flim-Flam-Brothers

I had basically no idea what I was going to do with their designs, and I also only had 60min, with limited tools (because Colormari)

But the thing about this drawing, was that our prompt was basically just "New Years Resolutions". And mine was that I wanted to create more art, without getting bossed around by my inner sense of cringe. Because, while I have absolutely no problem with ranting and rambling and talking about my favourite characters all over the place; as soon as I want to put them into any form of art, my organs feel like they'll turn me inside out. It's the reason this blog has dozens of rambles about how much I love Darkwing Duck, and yet zero art of any of its characters (made by me).

But I made this - and kept it around - even though I knew the characters wouldn't look the best.

So this is the drawing I'm most proud of, because it actually exists :)

[aberrant-webnovel]

Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant

Content Warning: Violent reference

Chapter 1 - Vault Breaker Applicant

There's a massive building ahead of me. Made of dark steel and copper piping along the exterior. There were rivets lining every panel of the building and lights intermittently placed to illuminate the front of the building.

Above the main entrance rested a symbol, rather than any words. A red skull decal with red rifles crossing behind it like an 'X'. Rather ominous in general, but in this city the sight of this simple symbol held hope for us.

The Vault Breakers were heroes of the Igneol Domain. For over 1,000 years, they have served Domain to better life for people all over the Calabasas Continent. Here in the Igneol Domain, people rely on technological marvels from long ago that can help people better survive in these conditions. The people who go and hunt down these pieces of tech are the Vault Breakers.

Nobody knows what's inside these Vaults until they're cracked and explored, but the reward will make someone rich enough to survive years in leisure. But the rush of hunting this tech and bringing home a payday keeps Breakers going out and fighting for their fortune.

I, Ymir Gajjet Sorenson, will become a Vault Breaker today and fight for the improvement of life for all of us. And more than that, enough money to move me and my family to the Luxor Domain. I've heard so much about the tech they've implemented there. So much stuff that just makes life easy and wonderful for all who can make it there. THAT is my goal. To let mom live happy, healthy, and and safe. More so than in this blazing hot desert.

With each step towards the massive doors ahead of me, I feel my knees buckle. My body sinks and I feel faint. These doors must be sixty feet tall. Must be like a bajillion pounds. I could never move something like that. Oh geez! Why didn't mom tell me anything about this? Why didn't Auntie or Uncle tell me!? How do I get in?

I take a few moments to collect myself. I stare at the doors. I'm about a hundred feet away, but they're immeasurably daunting. I could swear that they grow every time I lose hope in my heart.

Just then, they creep open. Slowly. The sound of metal scraping rings out and I can hear it reverberating in my ears. What amazing power is forcing these massive metal walls to move!? What sorcery!? How can I gain such power!?

I looked near the base of the door. There is a small girl. Maybe a younger teen. I can't quite tell from this far, but she's got some very pretty blue hair. Blue hair that looks just like….

"Silva! What the hell!?"

I couldn't stop myself from shouting and drawing as much attention as I could. It was totally involuntary. I swear. The blue haired youth turned around to looked at me. She scowled.

Silva is a young woman who is actually a little older than I. Only by two years, though. She's my cousin. Like a lot of our family, we all had dreams of being Vault Breaker. This year, I was to apply to join the ranks. My older cousin was also thinking that she'd enlist one day. She wasn't ever particularly interested in the dangerous tasks involved, but rather wanted to join the R&D Corp. She took after her father, who was currently the head of Research & Development for the Vault Breakers.

"You didn't know that I'd be applying with you? I was sure I hinted at it last time I visited."

"Hell no! I was told by Uncle Varun that you weren't going to apply for another few quarters! Auntie Fran said you were thinking about going to school somewhere instead, though."

"Mom always says things like that. She doesn't want me playing with weapons all the time so she tells everyone I'm leaving to go to school. I actually snuck out today to take the tests for the R&D corp. Do me a favor and don't tell mom, kay? Or Auntie Harper. Telling dad is fine, though. He can keep a secret."

"Yeah, I guess Uncle is pretty cool. Plus, won't he be giving you the exam? I don't have to tell him. He's going to see you."

"No, dad's going to be busy today. Some of the others from his department are here to handle the testing. Apparently some team brought in a piece of tech he'd never seen before. Once he sees something crazy, he can't do anything but study it for about a week. I expect I'll get the results back before I even see him leave his lab."

"Geez, Uncle really is a geek, ain't he? Haha!"

It's nice to talk with Silva. She's a bit older than me, but she's never looked down on me for any reason. I was never strong enough or fast enough to compare with the Sorenson family. At my age of 19, I would have already been serving as a Vault Breaker for three years. It's been a tradition for a long time in my father's family to join at 16. I could never keep up. My mother never pressured me to join.

Today is my day, though. Dad, I know you're not with us anymore, but I'm ready to make you proud. It's time that your son Ymir becomes a Vault Breaker!

Together with Silva, we entered through the massive steel doors. They had swung open because Silva presented an authorization keycard to the terminal just outside the doors. I didn't have one with clearance to enter here, but she let me know that her dad slipped her one a while back so that she could visit whenever she wanted. Even though she had such a thing, this was the first time she used it. Typically, I would be entering with a sponsor and directed to the testing areas.

I stepped through the intimidating arch and then stared out to all extraordinary things before me. Lining the walls of the hall were twenty foot statues of the greatest Vault Breakers in the history of the group. Every single one of them is a hero in their own right. All of them achieved enough during their service to earn a place in this hall as one of the six greatest to have ever been called a Vault Breaker.

I walked through the hall and admired each with every step I took. First, to my left, I saw a statue of the founder of the Vault Breakers. Just over 1200 years ago, was when this man, Maximillian "Vault Breaker" Atom, smashed through a blast door with a crazy tech hammer that he looted. Inside the vault, he found a power source called the Igneol Core. This core was able to power a complex series of machinery based on magma flow within a Vault.

This piece of tech became what founded the city that would later be called the Igneol Domain. With this act, Maximillian went forth to found a group dedicated to enriching the lives of humans all around the world with lost technology found deep underground in these mysterious Vaults. Henceforth, his group were called the Vault Breakers and continued to operate out of the center of the Igneol Domain.

Maximillian might have been the first of the great heroes of this place, but across the hall was a statue depicting one of the later leaders of the Vault Breakers. Her achievements, however, came quite a bit before she took over the mantle of leader.

Rochelle Rutherford. She was a powerful fighter. This great woman walked with a force that could shake the crust of the earth and strike terror into the heartiest of Vault veterans. All on her own, she breached a vault, slaughtered a thousand aberrations, and laid claim to valuable technology that led to crucial discoveries in the domain's hydroponics systems. Thanks to this discovery, the lives of everyone in the domain, and later the whole continent, would be enriched by this amazing discovery.

The 6th Chief of the Vault Breakers, Rochelle, was a no-nonsense woman who led with an iron fist. She trained the members and taught them everything needed to do the job. Her teachings would later become adapted and create a system detailing the roles that each Vault Breaker must play.

The Breaker, or Breacher, was a heavy-duty operator. Rather than relying on weapons and offensive gear, they would infiltrate with equipment capable of cutting through defenses that locked Vaults away from them. Once the breach is complete, then they would send in the next roles. Once all members of a team had entered, the Breaker team would seal the Vault and prevent escaping aberrations.

Scouts were trained with the intention of mapping out all dangers and pathways in unknown territory, but only to an extent that danger could be avoided.. Even outside of a breach event, Scouts often did work to find new entries for Vaults. Once inside, a Scout's specialty was not being seen, moving through the territory, and acquiring information to relay back to the rest of the team. Once enough info was acquired, they would return and report. From there, it was up to any Runners in the squad.

Having specialized jobs like Breakers and Scouts was helpful for the Runners. Unlike Breakers and Scouts, every Runner had to learn everything about Vaults. The enemies that were inside had different weak points. The pathways had tendencies in their blueprints that Runners could read and follow. While a Scout could give an initial impression of what's to come, the Runner would know the path that led to the end. Therefore, Runners were the front of the pack.

Runners carried the best weapons, the strongest defenses, and the best tech for surveillance. Gear was usually bulky and required extensive training just to move around with it, as well as augmentations to one's anatomy. This was more than just a fighter role. It was a leader and powerhouse role. Most of the pressure was on the Runners to ensure the safety of all others once they were inside the Vaults.

Rochelle Rutherford was regarded as the greatest Vault Breaker in history because she was able to perform all three roles and to such a degree that she rarely went into Vaults with a group. The last time she did, she died. She fought as hard as she could to protect the lives of those she brought along. Rochelle will always be in the hearts of those who survive. A common ritual is to ask for her protection before leaving for a deployment.

The third hero in this hall is a bit of an obscure one. Ornn Sorenson. He's my ancestor. I forget how many generations back he is, but he lived hundreds of years before I did. His achievements were much less based on merit and skill as a Vault Breaker. He earned his place in this hall from the value of his finds.

Ornn had a nose for treasure and sniffed out the Vaults with some of the best tech that anyone had ever seen. New weapons were able to be created after he brought back ancient military tech one time. Another time, he looted a power cell that redefined how we store energy. Our lives became so much more efficient once we replicated it. His place here is proof off his commitment to enriching the lives of everyone with his efforts.

One day, I want to bring back some awesome score and show it off to everyone. I can just imagine Uncle Varun lighting up at a chance to play with new tech while Auntie Harper lectures me about doing dangerous things.

On my right side now is the fourth statue of a hero. Lars "S-Ranker" Sorenson. Another one of my ancestors. His life was closer to mine, but I still never got to meet him. I hear that he trained my grandfather directly, but I never got a chance to meet any of the men in my family.

Lars, though, had a reputation in our family. A reputation as the strongest and most diligent Vault Breaker that has ever been born in our family. He rose to the top of the ladder within a few years of joining the service. He defeated hordes of aberrations and cleared one Vault after another. He led a team of elites through each one, never taking a casualty.

After countless deployments, Lars retired from action and put his knowledge to use. He created two class systems revolving around the Vaults and the Vault Breakers. The systems are easy to understand and put emphasis on protecting the lives of everyone going inside the Vaults.

Each Vault is listed in one of five classes. Class 1 is the easiest Vault to clear. That makes Class 5 a Hell hole. The class for each Vault is decided off of multiple factors. The biggest one being the presence of aberrations. Not every Vault has those creatures inside of them. The ones with absolutely no aberration presence recorded are in that Class 1. Class 2 doesn't always have them, but the presence of a few will land them here.

Class 3 Vaults are something else entirely, though. Most Vault Breakers don't have the opportunity to ever get inside one of these. Just clearing enough lower classes is enough to make someone quit or they end up dead off of a rookie mistake. Inside a Class 3 Vault is a swarm of aberrations. The type of creature is typically something manageable by a solid team, though. Most weapons are effective against them and the more elite Vault Breakers are tough enough to outlast the waves.

Things get hectic in the next class. Class 4 Vaults are notable as they show signs of evolved creatures within them. Sometimes the aberrations swear fealty to one high-powered creature or they operate like a hive mind. The intelligence of them increases dramatically at this point and only the most elite Vault Breakers are allowed to enter such a place.

Class 5 Vaults are something that Lars insisted was an arbitrary ranking. Something that is listed at this rank has never been truly found. It represents the possibility of a cluster of aberrations capable of breaking out of the Vault themselves. No aberration has ever made their way out of the vaults, except for the rare times that lower class Vaults ended up damaged. Occasionally, aberrations wander the surface and hunt, but they aren't too powerful. The strongest ones never leave the Vaults. Class 5 Vaults represent the fear and anxiety of them trying to leave, though.

The class system for the Vaults is pretty simple. The class system for Vault Breakers is a bit more bureaucratic, though. It's a few stacks of paper work for insurance purposes, paying dues to the corps you join, who to notify if you die, and covers all standard harassment policies and how everyone is expected to operate. After doing that, there's some testing in some lab room machines and some physical tests. Then they give a grade. That grade can improved upon un order to qualify for better benefits, opportunity, and level of work.

The lowest in this system is the "F-Ranker". It's typical that anyone who scores an F is not allowed to work as a Vault Breaker out in the field. Rather, they're directed to the Medic corps or the R&D corp. Those who insist on entering the field will have to retake the tests to be judged on their improvement.

"E-Rankers" typically end up as Scouts or Medics. They're allowed to take jobs, but must always accompany a team in order to ensure their own safety. Their job then becomes that of a support role in the Vaults. Those who don't enter the field begin to train under the leadership of a Captain within their corp.

When you make it to "D-Ranker", you're usually considered strong enough to lead a small team of similar ranks. Nobody can be placed above this point when getting their initial exam done. As a Runner, this is where one's training would actually begin. Learning how Vaults operate. Learning how aberrations move and how to kill them. It's all hands-on training, too. There's nothing to study at home. You have to study in the Vaults.

Becoming a "D-Ranker" was a turning point for many Vault Breakers. Going forward, it was likely that the job could not be done without significant change to the human body. Vault tech would be integrated into the body. Different types of machines would become one with the body and begin to change the way that a person functions. All of the changes were made to assist in the role that the Vault Breaker chose. Scouts had help being quick and elusive. Breakers would get stronger to carry more gear or augment themselves to become tools meant for clearing Vaults. Runners would become living weapons.

"C-Rankers" are considered the beginning of the elite ranks. Everyone who fought to make it to this point has the experience of a hundred soldiers. Most of have the scars to prove it, too. At HQ, there's a bunch of tech that gets sold to Vault Breakers for the purpose of doing their job. "C-Rankers" and above are allowed to look at the crazy cool stuff and get a discount on the generic gear.

"B-Rankers" are officers in their corps. Captains, Sergeants, and Commanders. Captains are leaders at the base level. They take out larger groups on deployments and often oversee everything when going into a Vault. Sergeants are a bit more independent. They're given more incentive to move on their own and can make decisions on a grander scale. If a Sergeant ordered a team of 200 Vault Breakers to charge inside a Vault, they'd do it in a heartbeat. Commanders are those who spend nearly their entire lives as a Vault Breaker. Standing at the top alongside the Chief. They serve as the direct subordinates and team members to the leader of the Vault Breakers. Each corps has at least one Commander overseeing their operations, too, and they are responsible for giving out advancements to those who perform well.

Almost every Vault Breaker thinks of "B" as their final rank to achieve. Any authority you could need is all right there. All the power and money you can earn is best once you make it to "B". It's rare that someone with enough drive and ambition will move into the "A-Rankers".

"A-Rankers" don't receive the rank because they fought really hard as a "B-Ranker". "A-Rankers" are required to go above and beyond to learn about the vaults. They have to teach other, train themselves, and lead the entirety of their corps. Physically, an "A-Ranker" isn't allowed to get tired in a Vault. They aren't allowed to fall behind. They must always stay alert, even for days without end. "A-Rankers" are the embodiment of everything it means to do this job. Only the best of the best make it to this point.

"S-Ranker" is the only thing above the best. It doesn't represent anything as far as merit and ability are concerned. "S-Rankers" are just "special", one might say. Something about them is unquantifiable. Lars Sorenson created the list and was deemed an "S-Ranker" by the system. He had augmented his own body to increase his physical capabilities. His brain was augmented to allow him to calculate faster. He operated on a scale that was above almost all others in the Vault Breakers. Because they couldn't even dream of catching up him, the upper command of the Vault Breakers deemed Lars to be "special".

There are two more statues in the hall. These two were the newest. Until just around twenty-five years ago, maybe a bit more, these two were put up at the same time. On my left is a legendary man. Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman. A hulking mass of muscle in every sense. People said he must have ate his own brain to get stronger and so he didn't have to think anything other than how big he was getting. That wasn't the case. Sarge's body was proof of his dedication. He augmented his body not for size, but for power and protection. He wanted power that would mean absolutely everything when it was needed.

Sarge himself broke into over thirty Vaults in the Terran Domain. His effort alone turned the domain into a powerhouse in producing new tech for the other Domains and producing some of the finest soldiers that they could send into more Vaults. His arms were designed to deliver force strong enough to break through waves of aberrations without tiring. With a piece of tech that he developed himself in the Crytin Domain, he could break through Vaults all on his own. A lot of Breakers used heavy and sophisticated tech to open blast doors. Sarge's arms simply could disable the magnetic locks and leave his massive physical power to open it the rest of the way.

In his final moments, Sarge used every ounce of his power. He split a blast door half-way open. Not nearly enough to fit through himself. Instead he tossed his friend through to safety and allowed it to close. It's believed that this was done to prevent the aberrations from making it out of the Vault.

Yorrick "Sarge" Bartman was a hero. A man who did more than was ever expected. And he did it with a smile. He smiled all the time, even in those final moments. At least, that's what my nana told me.

My nana was the most badass woman to ever be a Vault Breaker. Her statue actually stood across from Sarge's. After all, they were best friends for a long time. This woman, Gajjet "Hellion" Dirge, was the 60th Chief of the Vault Breakers. She earned her position through her applications of the knowledge she brought back from Vaults. She had theories about what the Vaults' purpose was and why they even exist. She led teams into the most dangerous of places. She did this all just to learn.

Gajjet never left a Vault without something to gain from it. It was only a few years before she retired that she discovered something that had never been confirmed or researched. Some of the Vaults were once labs for engineering life. It wasn't known how they were active and how they produced life still, but they seemed to be creating the aberrations. Unfortunately, Gajjet grew too old to fight through the Vaults. At that time, she stepped down and handed off her title to the next in command.

"Shit, Ymir, I gotta hide. Quit gawking at grandma's statue and hurry up!"

"Ah, fine! Fine! Why the hurry!?"

"Auntie Harper is coming!"

"….!"

I heard it for the first time ever. The sound of boots slamming against the ground in unison. In the HQ, a few dozen Vault Breakers had stopped everything they were doing, spun on a heel, and held a solid salute pose. A woman with the most powerful walk I had ever seen was walking towards us. There was no escaping this. She was looking right at me and Silva.

The woman with fiery crimson hair, tied back in a messy pony, stood before me with her arms crossed at her chest and feet shoulder width apart. She wore a white suit with a gold trim. On the left breast rested the symbol for the Vault Breakers, also embroidered with gold.. This was the 61st Chief of the Vault Breakers. Harper "Fireball" Dirge.