#it's also so out of character hiccup would never go out of his way to kill someone before they even do anything

[countlessofvoids]

Annoying thing RTTE did to the fandom was having the "Hiccup looks very skinny but he's actually really strong" joke and with that making people think Hiccup could do the impossible. No, Hiccup could never kill Drago on his own. It doesn't matter that he knocked out Snotlout one time

[themeraldee]

I think a great awkward sex fic could be homelander making love for the first time.

Not losing his virginity, but having sex with someone he loves

anon you're sooooooo smart!!!! I love this idea so much. After being in such a funk this reignited me and I had to write it now!! It took a different turn at the end but I don't dictate what the characters do!! thank you for this idea and please enjoy 🩷

Imperfectly Perfect

[Masterlist] [AO3]

18+ Only | 2.7k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Awkward sex. Realistic sex. Embarrassing sex noises. Feelings of inadequacy. Homelander being a mild drama queen. Cunnilingus. Unprotected sex.

Looking back at it, it was meant to be perfect.

Homelander eagerly ushered you back to his penthouse after an incredible date out. He pulled out all the stops, renting out the top rated, most expensive restaurant just for you. He spent the entire night charming your pants off with his strangely charismatic and at times awkward self. 

Buzzing with anticipation he couldn’t wait to show you what else he had in store for you. You’ve changed his perception of everything. Ever since you’ve wormed your way into his heart, he’s locked the way out and threw away the key. You’ve made him feel like nobody else ever has and he thought it high time he repay the favor. That’s why tonight had to be perfect. 

He wanted to show you what awaits you in your shared future.

He had some poor Vought employees absolutely drown his penthouse with bouquets of rich red roses, rose petals strewn across most surfaces, candles illuminating every corner, highlighting the glittering gold of the picture frames adorning his walls. Smooth jazz played in the background at a low volume sealing the deal on what ended up feeling like a scene plucked from an elaborate Valentine’s day ad.

“Wow! This is—wow! Homelander, you didn’t have to do all this.” You looked around the space, taking in the change with a shock and awe on your face. This quickly turned into a beautiful bright smile that made Homelander feel like he was on top of the world. He’s obviously doing something right.

“Anything for my girl.” He pulled you in gently, making the dress he’s picked for you twirl prettily. “Come with me,” he pressed a kiss to your soft lips, letting them linger for a little while while he inhaled the scent of your perfume—also his choice—and the roses surrounding you both. At that moment he thought that tonight would be perfect, one for the books.

And now? It didn’t take long for it to already be turning into a disaster.

From his point of view at least.

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning back on your arms as you watch the show. You asked to watch him take off his suit, promising that you’d give him just as good of a show as he would. 

Prior to this he has taken his elaborate suit off thousands of times anytime he’d go to bed. Now he’s struggling as if both of his hands were left-handed and this was his first suit fitting. He’s so tense, his nerves tighter than a bow string making his hands shake while he unclasps the cape, immediately folding it on the rack out of habit before he continues unzipping his suit. His heart is beating like a drum in his ears, he wouldn’t be surprised if even your ordinary ones could pick up on it. 

It’s not that he’s never had sex. It’s just that the anticipation of what he’s built up in his head is making him overthink his every move. He needs you to know that he can be like this for you. Because the perfect mainstream image of romance is what every woman dreams of—right?

When the zipper gets stuck and doesn’t let him unzip like normal he panics internally. There were meant to be no hiccups today! 

Observant that you are, you stand up as soon as you see him struggle and swear and take the step closer to him. “Let me help you.” You put your hands on his before sliding them up his forearms, then shoulders before going down to rest on his chest.

“How about you let me undress you and then you undress me.” You give him a cheeky smile, trying to break the tension he put himself into. “Does that sound good?” You ask quietly and breathy as you undo the zipper he was struggling with. 

He nods curtly, feeling ashamed that he’s admitting to a fault on his part.

But with the continuous dreamy eye-contact you slowly help him out. Undoing clasps, and zippers of his convoluted uniform. 

He was less worried about you seeing him naked than he is about the whole performance of it all. He’s let you see him without the suit before. Early into your blooming relationship you’ve stumbled upon him covered in blood. It only made sense to take the shower together as you helped him wash all of it off. But even then, he didn’t want it to go further. He said he had plans and asked you to let him make it perfect. 

When he’s finally fully naked he pulls you in for a hot kiss. It’s almost in gratitude at helping him mend the situation and put it back on track. He walks you back to the bed pushing you on it. He’s only about half hard, which is unusual for him as Homelander easily gets a hard-on in a split second anytime you just look at him a certain way. So it’s a surprise that he’s not panting and leaking with the way you look tonight. 

Clearly, he’s still stuck in his head.

With each kiss he presses into your skin, tasting the softness of your every spot he gets more and more excited. Slowly melting into you with each little huff you let out as he kisses your body, undressing you in tandem. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He growls into your ear before kissing you flush on the lips. Hot and heavy, he licks into your mouth, moaning at the way you pull at his hair when you rake your fingers through it.

Just as you want to take some control back, treat him the same way he’s treating you, he stops you.

“Nuh, uh. Ladies first. Let me make you feel good.” He rumbles as he pushes your hands off his body. You look pleased at his words, giving him an excited little grin.

And just like that, he’s finally taking control of the situation again. He’s got a script in his head and he needs to follow it to a tee.

Down on his knees, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. Already spreading your legs open, unabashedly inhaling the scent of you, already aroused and wet for him. He grins like a shark to himself. Without giving you much heads-up or taking it slow he just straight up buries himself in between your legs.

Just the smell of you had his cock finally turning rock hard, now with the taste of you he feels it twitching, drooling precum from the tip.

He’s licking you open, spreading you with his tongue. Like a mad man who doesn’t know where to focus first, with little rhythm he changes between strongly sucking at your clit, pointing his tongue sharply and running circles around your clit right before shoving his tongue into you, tongue-fucking you just like he imagines will leave your mind blown.

Except. 

“Little softer, please.” You sound out in between sweet little sighs. You’ve taken to running your nails through his hair, giving his scalp a little massage while he went to town on you.

“M’sorry.” He mumbles into your pussy as he quickly looks up at you. He slows down with his urgency though he’s a little peeved at the way he’s not been able to rock your world yet. 

“Don’t be—ah—it’s great. I just like it a little softer.” 

It’s great? Great?! It should be mind-blowing, incredible, glorious! Not just great. Immediately his ego takes a hit but he doesn’t outwardly show it. In his mind you should’ve been moaning and shaking for him, coming on his tongue while he got his fill of you. 

This doesn’t happen.

And while he’s doing better, making you moan a little louder, forcing small gasps out of you as he softens his tongue flat, gently laving over your clit before sucking on it softly. He’s not making you cum and that’s killing him.

You suddenly sharply tug on his hair and at first he thinks you’re getting close but you pull again and he looks up at you confused.

“Come up here.” You guide him up.

“But you didn’t finish.” He scrunches his eyebrows confused and for a second he looks like an innocent sweet puppy. 

“I don’t wanna come yet. I’m actually usually done after one orgasm so I reaaally want to have you inside me for the big finish you know?” You sign that off with a wolfish grin that he immediately eats up as he climbs up to devour you, making you taste yourself on his lips. 

With the thoughts of being inside you where it’s all soft and warm and really just made for his cock, he abandons his thoughts of inadequacy. 

And as much as you want to participate, Homelander keeps pushing you off, instead focusing on your body and all the places he hasn’t managed to kiss yet. 

When he swats your hand away from his cock again you ask. “Why won’t you let me return the favor?” 

“Another time.”

“But I wanna blow you! It’s not fair, why can’t I?” You keep pouting and you’re as adorable as you are annoying because as much as he’s sure your mouth will feel amazing he’s even more certain that your pussy will be fucking incredible. And he definitely won’t make it through both.

“Because I’ll bust, alright?” He swats your hands away instead pinning your wrists down onto the plush bedding making you yelp in surprise and arousal. He can sense the way that got you all excited. “Now just let me fuck you… please?” He says before kissing you again.

You automatically spread your legs. He kneels on the bed, sitting on his heels as his eyes immediately lock onto the sight of your pussy, still pretty and wet for him. A sight that makes his heart swell. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t want him with such voracity. He made sure to keep some lube on hand in case you wouldn’t get wet enough for it to be comfortable for you but he was preening that he managed to get you this wet. 

Homelander let one of his fingers glide down your slit, gathering the slick before pushing a finger in, immediately groaning at the intense heat of your cunt. He couldn’t wait to get his cock in you.

He gathers more slick that you seem to be making an abundance of but this time he gives his cock a few strokes, giving it a nice, wet coating. “So perfect for me.” He whispers out more to himself than you before he shuffles closer, holding his cock in his hand, rubbing it up and down your slit before eagerly pushing in.

The sheer tight heat of you has him gasping, you’d almost think he was in pain if it wasn’t for the blissed out look on his face.

When he sinks all the way in, he takes in your pretty face, your softly parted lips, gently flushed face and a look in your eyes that he’s sure he’ll never forget. You look at him with such love and adoration it’s impossible for him to stop the, “I love you,” that comes out of him before he kisses you.

“I love you too.” You say with a bright smile when he lets you breathe.

 He thinks at this moment, there’s no way this could be anything less than perfect.

Getting lost in the sensation he picks up the pace. He fucks into your faster and harder with each stroke and it’s not bad but it’s too too much from the get go. Homelander doesn’t see this. In his head he wants to make you cum before he himself finishes which with his track record might not be a very long time.

“Hey hey hey, slow down. You don’t need to go all hard and fast so quickly okay?” You say with a breathless little laugh, looking a bit rattled from the way he’s been fucking you into the mattress.

Fuck. He fucked up again. He’s disappointing you. That thought makes his heart hurt and jaw clench. But Homelander doesn’t let it show as he just nods at you, kissing his tension away, trying to get his head back into enjoying himself as much as he should.

But the universe isn’t kind to him and when he eases himself back into you, pressing his body against your sweat-covered one, the glide of skin on skin well… It makes a sound that could only be described as a fart!

You burst into giggles at the comical sound and you seem to think that’s it but Homelander is mortified. His eyes widen and he gasps, pushing himself off your sweat-slick skin. “That wasn’t—I didn’t—”

When he tries to explain that it wasn’t him it just makes you laugh harder.

He doesn’t get it—you’re laughing! It’s so incredibly embarrassing and it’s ruining the vision he had for the night. Tonight was about him finally opening up to you, letting you feel just how strongly he feels about you and it’s been a disaster from the start.

He feels himself softening inside you so he pulls out before you notice and he grumpily pulls away from you, turning to sit at the edge of the bed to sulk.

Your giggles died out as soon as you noticed him pull away. “Baby? Don’t be upset. I’m not laughing at you.” You sit up, reaching over to him, moving closer. 

“It’s fucking embarrassing! Tonight was meant to be—well not like this!” He’s upset and he’s trying to take it out on you as if pretending that it’s your fault is gonna soothe his hurt ego.

“It’s okay. It’s normal, it happens. It’s literally just skin on skin. Bodies make funny sounds!” You try to soothe him by rubbing his arms and shoulder, occasionally pressing a kiss to his head or side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t be laughing at it like this whole thing doesn’t matter.” He said with a bite in his tone, almost accusing you of not sharing his feelings.

“I’m laughing because this does matter to me. I’m comfortable around you. You make me feel at ease and let my guard down. I’m laughing precisely because I love you.”

He doesn’t respond and you continue soothing his hurt feelings.

“It’s beautiful, the way you’ve prepared this place. But do you wanna hear a secret?” You move closer to him and turn his head with your finger. “It’d be just as romantic without all of it. Even if the first time we had sex was in a broom closet. Or whatever. The point is—it’s you. That makes it all so special.”

He sighs with palpable relief and he nuzzles his head into the hand you placed on his cheek. He could just about devour you for being so amazing. 

“I just wanted it to be perfect for you.” He admits his insecurity, giving you the ammunition to rip his heart in two if you wanted to. He knows you hear the ‘I want to be perfect for you,’ he’s really trying to convey. 

“It is perfect. Tonight, the whole thing. Everything that’s happened. It’s been perfect. I’ve been loving every second of it.” You kiss him on the lips and he melts. He turns so he can embrace you with the kiss, feeling the tension finally slip away. With no expectations, he can enjoy you the way he should have from the start.

“Come on, lie down. Stop thinking.” It’s your turn to press him into the mattress as he lies on his back staring up at you with pure adoration.

Just like that, after seeing you on top of him all pretty and loving his cock is back at full hardness. You finally wrap your hand around it, giving it a few strokes before you lower yourself down on him.

“We’re getting to know our bodies. You learn what I like, I learn what you like. None of this thinking of what it should be like. Okay?” He nods at you although he’s very preoccupied with taking in the incredible feeling of you wrapped hotly around him, sending his mind into a frenzy.

You bounce on him, showing him exactly how you like it, what angle and what pace and in the meanwhile you coo sweet, soothing words. Clearly seeing just how much work his hurt ego will need to get back to normal. 

And somehow, in the end, it’s so much more perfect than he could ever imagine it to be.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten 

[crystallinestars]

Comforting you when you're sad

Headcanons about the Genshin boys comforting you when you're feeling down for whatever reason.

I don't know what I wrote but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.

Characters: Venti, Lyney, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Wanderer, Kaveh

Venti

🍃 When Venti first sees the sullen expression on your face, his cheerful smile wanes into concerned curiosity as he asks what happened to make you so sad. He doesn’t want to force you to answer if you would rather not talk about it, but he can tell the sadness is weighing heavy on your heart, so he takes you home and asks one more time what happened. His words and voice are gentle, his gaze tender as he cups and strokes your cheek, hoping to make you comfortable enough to open up to him.

🍃 His gentle coaxing works to make your guard crumble and the tears you held back come streaming down your cheeks. Venti isn’t used to comforting crying people, but he hugs you, letting you cry into his shoulder while stroking your head, letting you know it’s okay to cry. He doesn’t say a word until your crying fit subsides into hiccups and sniffles, and only then does he let his voice be heard as he softly hums a lullaby he once overheard a mother sing to a crying child a long time ago.

🍃 When you’ve calmed down, Venti asks what you want to do. He'll stay with you if you would rather stay home to keep you company, however, he thinks it would do you some good to go out instead of staying cooped up in these four walls. If you agree to go outside, Venti will stroll around the city market, trying to entice you with this item or that. Do you want to check out the knickknacks at Marjorie’s? Or the new potions Timaeus is brewing? Or what about that one dish at the Good Hunter you’ve always wanted to try but never got around to? Venti would buy them all for you—his treat! He would even brave his cat allergy and stop by the Cat’s Paw so you can try one of Diona’s special concoctions. Venti acts peppy and cheery throughout the impromptu date, hoping to lift your dampened mood with his enthusiasm.

🍃 If the little date doesn’t do the trick to cheer you up, then Venti drags you outside the city walls. Leading you by the hand, Venti brings you to the open grassy plains of Windrise and beckons you to take in the world around you. Look at that beautiful blue sky and feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. Feel the wind play with your hair and hear the rustling of leaves in the great oak tree. Walk along the beach with him while smelling the salty ocean breeze and splashing water at each other as if you were little children. Climb the oak tree at Windrise and watch the squirrels and birds that call it their home scurry about in the branches. Lay in the grass and watch the starry sky with him while he strums a soothing song on his lyre that he composed just for you.

🍃 It's not a guarantee his method will work, but Venti hopes this outing can help you feel free from whatever burdens you. Despite his youthful appearance and demeanor, Venti is an old soul who has seen and experienced his fair share of suffering. He is aware that sadness sticks around far longer than joy, for such is the human condition, but he also knows that it shouldn’t overshadow everything in life. Though life can beat you down and Venti may not be able to solve your problems, there is so much more to the world than the little bubble you confine yourself to.

Lyney

🎩 Lyney’s expression lights up when he sees you from afar, but the tired look in your eyes and the weak smile you give him tell the magician you’re feeling down. He looks at you in concern and gently asks if something is wrong to make you so down. He attentively listens if you want to share the reason, and lets the conversation go if you don’t want to talk about it, but either way, he wants to distract you from your negative feelings.

🎩 Lyney has the most experience dealing with Lynette’s sour moods, so out of habit he brings you to a café and lets you order anything you want from the menu, offering to pay for it. He lets you talk if you want to vent or if you want to stay quiet, he fills the silence with funny stories about people he saw in the streets of Fontaine.

🎩 Though he appears his usual chipper self, in reality, he’s worried about you. If spending time with him isn’t enough to brighten your mood, Lyney drops his cheery façade and gently takes your hands in his. With a concerned look, he persuades you to at the very least stop bottling up your emotions and depend on him. As an older brother, he feels a lot of responsibility to care for those he loves, and that responsibility also extends to you.

🎩 Once he sees that his words touched your heart and you’re on the verge of tears, he escorts you to a private alleyway where you can cry freely without the prying eyes of passersby. Lyney hugs you close and whispers words of comfort in your ear, letting you cry into his shoulder. He has a lot of experience comforting Lynette and his siblings at the orphanage, so Lyney knows what to do to support you during your most vulnerable moment. His reassurances help calm you down, and he wipes your tears away with a handkerchief. Though it saddens him to see you so upset, he’s also grateful that you opened up to him about your feelings.

🎩 Afterward, Lyney offers to take you to play with his animal assistants. He teaches you how to feed them, and watches you play with his animals, seeing you gradually relax and give a small smile as a pigeon coos and cuddles into your hand.

🎩 Alternatively, Lyney might invite you to a private magic show; one he designed for your eyes only. The magician brings you to his room in the orphanage where the two of you can be alone and he has access to his props. With a cheeky smirk and flourish of his hand, Lyney materializes a Rainbow Rose from thin air and hands it to you, telling you to keep your eyes on him. He begins his performance, narrating it like any regular show even though you’re the sole audience member. Lyney shows off all the tricks he is certain you haven’t seen before, even mixing in some new ones he hasn’t quite perfected but included anyway. He injects a dramatic and comedic flair into the performance in the hopes of making you laugh. Once you do, Lyney grins, pleased he could make you feel better. In his mind, laughter is the best cure for sadness.

Kaeya

❄️ When Kaeya catches a glimpse of you, he is instantly able to tell you’re out of sorts. Though you smile at him, it’s weak and does a poor job of masking the sorrow in your eyes. You’re clearly not as okay as you try to seem, but Kaeya is unsure of how to help you feel better. He’s not used to comforting people. His only experiences are helping crying children find their parents during crowded festivals, and clumsily bandaging Diluc’s scrapes when they were little. But you are neither a child nor his sworn brother, so he momentarily feels lost about how to help you.

❄️ Such delicate situations are not Kaeya’s forte, but as your boyfriend, he wants to help you feel better. So, he steels himself and, in his usual teasing lilt, inquires what happened to make you look so sour. Though he sounds playful, Kaeya takes your feelings seriously, so when you look like you’re about to cry, he quickly escorts you somewhere private.

❄️ When you break down, he’s at a loss for what to do since he’s never had to comfort anyone like this before. Then, a memory surfaces in his mind of when Adelinde hugged him as a crying child, so he hesitantly wraps you up in a loose embrace, mimicking her hug the best he could. It’s a foreign feeling, holding you while you cry into his shoulder. He feels helpless just standing there with your shaking body in his arms, but he also knows it’s the best he can do for you right now, so he gently rubs your back the way Adelinde did for him all those years ago and hopes it helps you the way it did him.

❄️ Kaeya stays quiet until your crying fit subsides. He’s unsure of what to say as you slowly collect yourself, but he softly asks if you want to go drinking. Perhaps some alcohol from the Angel’s Share can help you feel better? If you agree, Kaeya takes you to the tavern where you share a drink and watch a bard perform a heroic epic about an adventurer. Alternatively, if you like cats, Kaeya brings you to the Cat’s Paw to play with the cats there and get a specialty drink from Diona (his treat). He also coerces you into a few rounds of TCG and pretends to play fairly but purposely loses to give you the wins in the hopes that the little victories would brighten your mood.

❄️ If you don’t want to drink, then Kaeya invites you over to the Dawn Winery. It feels strange to bring you to his childhood home when he hasn’t lived there in years, but he’s hoping that Adelinde could help. Ever since the head maid found out that Kaeya had a lover, she had asked for details about you, but Kaeya refused to disclose much of anything. Questions about his love life from someone he saw as a mother figure made him shy, so he avoided talking about you.

❄️ As he expected, Adelinde was overjoyed to finally meet you and she welcomed you inside just as warmly as she did Kaeya. She whips up a delicious dinner for your pair and spends the evening chatting with you, asking you about yourself and sharing all of Kaeya’s childhood stories that he never told you about, especially the funny ones much to his chagrin. The homey atmosphere and fun conversation do the trick to take your mind off of whatever bothered you, and though it came at Kaeya’s expense, he was happy to see you smiling like your usual self again.

Alhaitham

🎧 Upon your arrival home, Alhaitham’s brows pinch together in concern when he sees you looking down. He doesn’t pry into what happened, preferring for you to tell him what was wrong when you were ready to talk about it. However, if you don’t share the reason behind your sadness, and your mood doesn’t improve or grows worse, the Scribe gently calls out to you and tactfully asks what happened in a calm and gentle tone.

🎧 No matter how small the reason, Alhaitham hears you out without judgment, understanding that people can have a bouquet of reactions to situations he may not perceive to be as worthy of his concern. Even if he wouldn’t feel the same as you in your situation, he still tries to understand your point of view and help you deal with your emotions. If Alhaitham finds it applicable, he will offer advice for your situation. However, he is perceptive enough to tell when mere advice won’t help resolve your current mood, and that you require comfort. 

🎧 Alhaitham’s eyes soften, and he gently pulls you into his chest with a simple comment: “Don’t hold it all in. Cry if you need to.” Sometimes, releasing pent-up emotions is what a person needs to feel better, and the Scrobe doesn’t want you to wallow in your misery all alone. He holds you to him while you cry, placing his chin atop your head and lightly stroking your back in comfort without saying a word. 

🎧 His usually calm expression turns somber and his hold on you tightens a little as a dull ache surges through his heart. Alhaitham is not one to become influenced by the emotions of others easily, but despite what some people may think, he is not immune to others’ distress. He doesn’t like seeing others suffer, and seeing you so upset is no exception. Your suffering affects him a little more because he loves you and wants you to be at your best, so he will do everything in his power to help.

🎧 Once your crying fit subsides, Alhaitham lets you choose what you want to do next. If you want some privacy to deal with your emotions, he lets you go and occasionally checks up on you to see how you’re doing. If you say you want to stay with him, Alhaitham fetches a blanket knitted by his late grandmother that she used to wrap him up in and drapes it over you. He brews you a cup of tea before inviting you to read with him on the sofa. Should you choose to join him, Alhaitham will keep an arm around you while reading a book, not interrupting your reading but letting you feel he’s here. 

🎧 If you’re not in the mood to read, then the Scribe cuddles with you on the sofa. He lets you rest your head on his chest, running a hand along your back while holding a book with the other. If you want to hear the sound of his voice, Alhaitham will read the book to you out loud. If you prefer the silence and the sound of his heartbeat, then he stays quiet and holds you until you fall asleep, kissing your forehead once you doze off.

Wanderer

☂️ As soon as Wanderer sees you, he instantly realizes you’re feeling down. Even when you smile and say you’re fine, his perceptive nature makes it easy for him to tell you’re not. As a frank person, Wanderer prefers you to be straightforward about your feelings and wants, so it’s frustrating when you keep things to yourself like this. He frowns and asks what made you act like such a wet blanket, but despite his unfriendly scowl, he remains patient and hears you out.

☂️ What he’s not prepared for is your tears. When you start crying in the middle of your explanation, Wanderer’s frown melts into surprise and then concern before quickly pulling you into a hug. He’s not used to comforting crying people, but a part of Wanderer urges him to comfort you, so he follows his instincts. Soothing words and caresses are not his forte, but Wanderer quietly murmurs for you to stop bottling everything inside and confide in him. Cry if you need to, it’s fine. He’s got you.

☂️ Wanderer’s embrace is both tight yet careful as if he were holding something precious and fragile. The way you felt in his arms was certainly fragile. Shoulders hunched and shaking, muffling your sniffles against his shirt and soaking the fabric with your tears. Something in his chest feels tight when he sees you this broken, and it sparks a desire in him to fix whatever happened to make you this upset. Even if the cause is outside of his power to fix, Wanderer at least wants you to stop crying and go back to your annoying and yet endearing self.

☂️ When you calm down, Wanderer acts more mindful around you. He chooses his words carefully and keeps his tone soft as he tells you it’s normal to be upset in this situation, but you shouldn’t lose hope so easily. Usually, he would be blunter with his words, but with you in such a precarious state, he wants to be careful. He knows his bluntness can sometimes upset people, and the last thing he wants is to make you more upset.

☂️ Wanderer lets you choose what you want to do: do you want to stay home or come with him to a secret place? If you choose to stay home, he tells you to clean yourself up while he busies himself in the kitchen. He whips up a few delicious and hearty dishes and tells you to eat and stop moping when he serves them up. When you point out that these are all your favorite foods, he scoffs and says that it’s all he could make with the ingredients on hand, but reluctantly adds that he thought your favorite foods would help you feel better. If you thank him, he grows flustered and tells you not to because he didn’t do anything special, but it makes him feel happy inside that you appreciated his efforts.

☂️ If you choose to come with him, then Wanderer takes you to a secret place of his. It’s a little vantage point he found in the Lokapala Jungle that looks especially pretty at night, and he wanted to bring you here one day but figured today was as good a day as any. He flies up there with you and lets you take in the view. Surrounding you are various bioluminescent flora that disperse the darkness with their soft glow. Fireflies softly float about your pair as you sit on the soft grass and look up at the star-filled sky. There’s an ethereal beauty to the place that distracts you from your depressing thoughts and lifts your sunken spirits. He stays here with you for as long as you want, chatting about various topics and weaving you a flower crown to remember the occasion by.

Kaveh

🍷 When Kaveh sees your sullen demeanor, he immediately realizes you’re feeling down. He knows what it’s like to suffer from sadness and depression all alone, and he doesn’t want you to deal with such feelings on your own. Though it’s hypocritical of him, the architect wishes that you would confide in him, so gently prompts you to share what happened. Even if you tell him you’re fine, Kaveh won’t buy it but won’t pressure you to tell him.

🍷 However, he worries deeply about your mental well-being, and if he sees no improvements or even a worsening of your mental state, he takes your hand and leads you to the sofa. Kaveh cups your cheek and pleads with you to confide in him. Tell him what’s wrong because he wants to help you feel better so badly, and it frustrates him that he can’t.

🍷 His efforts pay off in making you give in and tell him what happened to make you feel this way. Even if there’s no particular reason for your sadness, Kaveh takes your feelings seriously. He wraps his arms around you in a gentle yet firm hug when you start crying, his expression solemn because seeing you in pain like this makes his heart ache. Kaveh holds you close until you let out all your sadness, whispering reassurances and kissing the top of your head. He strokes your back to comfort you, not caring that you’re soaking his shirt with tears and snot. Your well-being is far more important to him than his clothes.

🍷 Once you calm down, Kaveh dotes on you. He gets you tissues, some water, a blanket—you name it, he’ll bring it. With a gentle smile, Kaveh asks if you want to go out and do something to get your mind off whatever made you sad. If you want to stay home to recuperate from your crying fit, then Kaveh will spend the evening cuddling you and making sure you’re okay.

🍷 If you accept, Kaveh will take you out to Lambad’s Tavern. When life beat him down, he turned to heavy drinking to forget his troubles, and though he doesn’t want you to get plastered the way he did (because it’s bad for your health! He says) he offers to buy you a drink, hoping a light buzz could take the edge off your grief. Even if you don’t drink alcohol, Kaveh buys you a non-alcoholic drink and keeps you company. From his personal experience, sometimes a drink and good company are all you need to feel better, so he chats about various topics and gives advice if you need it. He also listens if you want to vent, offering a sympathetic ear and supportive words.

🍷 If you don’t want to drink, Kaveh takes you out on a stroll around Sumeru city. He surmises that a change of scenery can help take your mind off things, so he takes your hand and walks along the streets, showing you all the spots with pretty views. He comments how each location looks especially beautiful during sunset or at night when the stars are shining in the sky and offers to bring you here later if you want to see that breathtaking view. Afterward, he takes you out for a delicious meal at his expense. Kaveh is more than willing to spend his meager savings on you if it means making you happy. He won’t be able to rest easy unless you feel better, so he pulls out all the stops to try and cheer you up if only a little.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

.

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Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally 🤭🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural. 

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no'  just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it. 

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror. 

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively. 

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave. 

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!” 

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling. 

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time. 

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror. 

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[ughdontbeboring]

only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?” 

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! reader

master list

the conversation of the century finally happens, grab your tissues.

**edited to add as a content warning— the major character death I talked about in chapter 12— happens within this chapter, if we remember, Tooty experienced heavy trauma to her abdomen……… this story has never and will never be a pregnancy fix all trope. — sorry it wasn’t labeled correctly the first time. **

no minors 🔞, talk of trauma, another traumatic event, miscarriage

a/n: this is a shorter chapter the next one will be longer and not out as soon. Thank you again to @sweetsweetjellybean for beta reading for me and helped me tweak this chapter @blueywrites who helped me months ago come up with this plot. And @jo-harrington who helped also. This story would be nothing without all the people liking and reblogging it— so T H A N K Y O U for continuing to read it even when it got dark, when weeks went by and there wasn’t an update in sight, I appreciate each and every single one of you. Here’s to our two dumbasses, finally figuring it out 🥂

“Eddie.”

  Your throat was bruised and weak. The slow painful flick open of your swollen eyes have you paralyzed with doubt. 

  Deceiving sight of a beaten man sitting in front of you with a hard cast covering his right hand, the fingers are deeply swollen and bruised, the nails tinged with dried blood.

  This wasn’t a version of Eddie you had seen before.

  His normal pale skin is purpling and raised around his cheek and left eye. His top lip is split and agitatedly red against black stitches, probably from him picking at it. 

  He was handsome, even with his face twisting into relief and sorrow. Tears flow down the colorful sunset painting of healing and broken skin on Eddie’s face. He stands quickly, leaning over you carefully.

  Quivering, timid hands reach for your cheeks, realizing the cast would probably scratch or scrape you, he settles for one hand laid dainty on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin like a ghost.

  The dark pools of his eyes pull you in as his tears fall freely, and your heart begins to sew itself whole again. As his lips meet your hairline he whispers a cut off sob of his worries. Your tears flow with his. Merriment of grief and comfort as you cry into his shirt. Wishing you could live in this moment forever. 

  A dark wave full of emotions crash down on you  all at once. The joy of seeing Eddie mixing with shame and guilt over what he must have braved while defending you. Finally, confusion on what exactly had happened and how you both ended up here and alive? 

  “You’re here,” you choke, a tubing clustered hand strokes Eddie’s face, “I was so scared,” you mumble weakly, “I thought we were d—” your throat tightens on the word and won’t release it, lost on a sobbing gasp that is muffled into his shirt as he pulls you into him. 

  The soft cotton of his shirt envelops you in a calming light state, the same smoky essence of Eddie washes over you, settling your hiccuping cries. His hand is stroking your hair, careful around the stitches. And if you listened close you could hear his heart breaking. 

  Eddie would find a way to melt the galaxies for you if you asked, hearing you crumble about the thought of him being dead is almost too much for him to handle. 

  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he says, strongly, firm toned to get his point across in as few words as possible, no need to go into detail about how it was done, you and the baby were safe and that’s what mattered, “he’s gone.” 

  Gone? Did he get away? 

  “Wh—-” you try your best to make any sort of sense register and click in your brain, but it’s not connecting, “Eddie?” 

  He took a deep weighty breath, the final swing of the wooden bat playing behind his eyes like a film in class, he watched Chad’s lifeless body slump to the floor, the dirty and blood riddled nails wedged into his temple like a knife through soft butter. The horrified expression Mr. Derry gave as blood splattered on the walls, and coated Eddie’s face. 

  He lowered his head and shook the image from his mind, “I took care of it,” he whispered gravely, “he won’t be bothering you again.” 

  The muddied storm in his eyes thunders as you comprehend his words. Would you be afraid of him? The same hands that held you so tenderly were also capable of murdering a man who nearly took your life. The thought of you being terrified of him tingles his spine and makes his knees weak, he turns away from you before you can see him cry again.  

  Chad is dead. And you want to scream at yourself when you feel remorse. He was terrifying. A real life in the flesh monster. Quite literally tried to kill you. All he brought to you was pain. And he was dead at Eddie’s hand. The nightmare finally over.

  He tried to hide the distressed pain burrowed deep in his face. He was everything the town always said about him. Satanic. Future convict. White trash, just needed to stitch  ‘murderer’ to the long list of insults he’d worn his entire life, like a cloak to shield others away from him. 

  With your head held high you wipe the tears from your eyes and pull Eddie’s chin to face you, and you’re surprised when he jerks away slowly. 

  You forget the time spent away. Finding it easy to fall into sync with him again, your Eddie. Would he ever be yours again? He’s been left out in the cold, sick from the frigid heart you peacocked off to him, boundaries up and lies in your head. 

  He was the most important person in your life. And it was time you told him so. 

  “Look at me, Eddie,” you coax, trying to make your voice seem velvety instead of the scratchy crack of desperation you currently are pleading to him, “you saved my life.” 

  The brooding deepens and he presses his lips tight together before looking at you, guilt and shame riddle his features, “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, closing his eyes, “I’m so fucking sorry,” the tears fall freely down his face, and he wipes them away hastily with the back of his leather covered arm, “I should have been there.” 

  The words stab like a knife into your soul. Everything happened because of your actions, your apprehensive heart. Eddie almost got himself killed and in turn had to kill your abuser, yet he was the one apologizing for not being there. 

  “It’s my fault,” you say weakly, reaching up to brush a tear away from his wet eyelashes, “I’m the one that pushed you away, and then… I’m sorry Eddie…I couldn’t..” 

  He pulls you into him, his lips skirting your hair line, kissing sweetly and soft like butterfly wings. He shushes you, and whispers that everything will be okay, and in that moment you realize you didn’t have to stroll the pearly gates to be his. 

  His eyes drop slightly to the blanket cozied up around you, flitting over your stomach. When his eyes find yours again, there are fresh tears, and a sad smile. It takes a nano second for the realization to hit you like a ton of bricks in the chest. A gasp breeches your lungs and guilt forms in the shape of tears in your eyes.  

  He knows. 

  Regret is billowing from your body and you try to cover your eyes, terrified of Eddie’s reaction to not only you being pregnant with his baby, but keeping it from him for months. 

  Outside of telling Eddie to leave and trying to convince him that you didn’t love him—- this was the hardest thing you’d ever done. But you told yourself he wouldn’t want to be a part of you with a baby in the mix. A baby that would ruin plans and put a halt to dreams. He didn’t need to be tethered to you because of one night. 

  One single night that you had been lying to yourself about— trying to ease away the pain of loving Eddie and pushing him away for his own good. People had been distancing themselves from you your whole life.. you were guarded and as hard as it was to let the barrier fall around your heart, it was just as easy to put it back up, barricaded in yellow caution tape of lies. 

  Unworthy 

  Before you can drift into a full fledged spiral Eddie’s warm hands find your cheeks and tilt your head upwards to look at him. 

  “I’m here,” his eyes search yours, and they flood with the warmth of the sun behind the black storm, “I’m not going anywhere,Tooty.” 

  The drop of an aluminum can and spray of carbonated soda fills the room behind a loud shriek, making Eddie jump and stand up, instinctively placing his body around yours, his back covering you in a leather shield, and you grab his hand between your fingers, an instant comfort to your panic.

  “STEVE!” Robin screams, her hands fly to her face like that little punk Kevin McCallister in Home Alone, mouth hung open in shock.

  Steve enters the room with a fancy company cell phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. A package of Oreos in his hands, “No, Jack— I don’t care how long it takes just fucking f—“ his eyes go wide in disbelief, and he slams the presses a button to end the call when you smile weakly and wave your fingers between Eddie’s at him.

  The next half hour is full of tears and hugs, calls to the Wheeler’s and the rest of your friends, letting them know you were awake. 

  The nurses flood in like a gaggle of cadets. Checking monitors and adjusting tubing. Letting you have your moment with your friends, explaining you were still going to be weak and the doctor would be by in a while to go over things with you.  

  Steve hasn’t stopped crying since seeing your eyes opened, blowing his nose every few mins. Robin talks enough for everyone, your throat still rubbing raw whenever you tried to say anything so you work with nodding along when asked questions. Eddie is unusually quiet, sniffing loud every now and then, offering you ice chips the nurses brought to you, a plastic spoon to your lips.

  “So what hap—” Robin starts and Eddie immediately glares at her, shaking his head and a firm “no” falls from his lips, and nobody tries to bring it up again. 

  Eddie didn’t want you getting upset, he’d protect you for the rest of his life if that’s what it would take. Fuck, he’d even be happy to sit in jail for a life sentence for killing that mother fucker. Pride swelling his chest knowing Chad was dead at his hand. Finally making his mother proud for protecting someone when he couldn’t do the same for her… and now there was someone else to protect. A tiny little someone. 

  The days you had been sedated he was beside himself. When he wasn’t in your room holding your hand and humming songs to you, he would be down in the gift shop. Thumbing through baby books, familiarizing himself with the favorite nursery rhymes of Mother Goose. His fingers traced the lace on a pair of tiny little white socks. Blue plastic baby toys that he found were called a rattle and made a clunky noise when shook. 

  He looked out of place. Torn jeans and chains hanging from his waist amongst the delicate pastels of the baby section, but he didn’t care. He made himself a promise. That when this was fall said and done and you were healed—he  would move you all into a new house. Out of Hawkins, away from this shithole of despair that only held bad memories. 

  And he intended to keep his word. 

  “Umm, I know it’s a little soon to figure this all out— but none of us want you staying… there, Tooty,” Steve says, blowing his nose one more time, hands on his hips in his typical mother hen style, “we didn’t know when you would… but eh…Leighanne already has the spare bedroom set up for you… and you can stay as long as you want.” 

  You hadn’t even thought about the house. But the thought of possibly having to go back there had you trembling. The smell of your own blood dripping onto the carpet filled your nose, Chad’s maniacal laugh…

  “Later,” Eddie says, shutting the conversation down by clearing his throat, his eyebrows pulled in and he tries to hide his worry again by wiping his hand down his face. 

  You’re thankful when visiting hours are through, your body aches and the bruises lining your stomach are tender, each movement making sharp bolts of pain shoot all over. Everyone says their goodbyes, you squeeze Eddie’s hand, a panic set lightning strikes in your eyes. You didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not anytime soon. 

  He doesn’t pause, doesn't recoil. He stands tall, squeezing your hand, his eyes finding yours, a silent comfort washing over you as he whispers so only you could hear, “I’m here, always.” 

  He needed you to know how serious he was taking this. You, the baby, everything. He wanted to be there for it all. 

  Small waves from your friends and powerful hugs with murmured conversations between Eddie and Steve, leaving them both nodding and agreeing on something out of earshot. 

  The room feels small without them there. The elephant in the room hovering over you and weighing heavy on your chest, bigger by the second and you can’t wait anymore.

  “Eddie?” you croak, barely audible, vocal cords rubbing raw trying to speak. 

  The tears are already brimming in his eyes, he looks up at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing small patterns on the back of your hand, “when?” 

  You remember the exact day and time you felt something off in your body. Tired and achy all the time you couldn’t catch believe the amount of hours you could sleep uninterrupted. 

  The same calendar that once held your schedule for you and Eddie also held when your period was supposed to begin, but since Nancy had crossed Eddie’s name off you hadn’t even thought about possibly being late. Flipping through the pages you realized you were 3 weeks late. And blamed it on the stress. When February came and you still hadn’t gotten your period, you made an appointment with the clinic, and on the black monitor the doctor pointed out the tiniest baby growing in your belly, almost eight weeks along. 

  “When what?” You answered feebly, throat aching with each word. 

  Taking a deep ragged breath, Eddie looks at you, concern shadowing his face, he looks haunted, and depleted, “when did you find out you were pregnant?” 

  “Last month,” you clear your throat and reach for the ice chips, but Eddie helps you spoon them into your mouth. The ice melting on your tongue, pooling slowly and sliding down your throat to ease the ache. 

  “Eddie, I—” tears fall as you look into the hurt man’s whiskey colored eyes, “I was scared to tell you.” 

  He's blinking back tears, dropping your hand to walk around the room, landing at the window and pretending to look at the sky, “Did you think I wouldn’t care?” 

  A long pause between you is more than enough of an answer for him, and he sniffs loudly, “I’m not my dad y’know?” His voice hurt and wavering the delivery , “If you thought for a second that I wouldn’t give a shit about you or the baby, you’re wrong.” 

  Words you never thought would be said flow so easily from him, and you’re embarrassed you ever doubted him, “We aren’t together, Eddie,” you explain, letting the tears free fall, “I didn’t want to hold you back.”  

  Eddie scoffs and pushes off from the window, pouring his heart into his words as he explains his hurt,  “hold me back? From what the band? Tooty, I’ve been trying to prove to you for months that all I’ve ever wanted was you,” he moves across the room, sitting next to your legs on the bed, reaching for your closed fist to thread his fingers with yours.

  “Every part sweetheart, the good and the bad. Don’t you see that?” 

  Of course you did, but it was never that easy. 

  “I just— ” you couldn’t find the words, even though he deserved them, it was too much,  “I can’t even say that…how could I tell you that I’m pregnant after what I did and how I treated you?” 

  That night with Eddie blurred in your mind. He was gentle and sweet, you had never experienced such passion in all your life. It was everything you could have hoped for and more, but your scared heart ruined it. 

  “I’m a bitch, Eddie. Look at what happened to you because of me!” yoj gesture to his bruised beautiful face, and the tears flow quick down your cheeks, “you deserve someone who doesn’t hurt you,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from him and looking at the ceiling tiles. 

  “Goddamnit Tooty, you are possibly the most stubborn person, biggest pain in my ass… but I have cared about you since you were 14. And I have loved you since the minute you opened up that front door and yelled at me.”

  You both laugh through the tears and he brings your chin to face him, his dark brown eyes swim with the glitter of fallen happiness, and he quickly blinks, “let me take care of you, sweetheart, both of you.” 

  It could be that simple. He loved you and you loved him. It wasn’t rocket science or poor willed fate. This was two people who cared about each other enough to look past all the ugly shit the world had to offer and chose to stick together. The epiphany sewed your heart closed and locked it tight, a branded “EM” on the lock and Eddie held the key.

  You grab him with more force than either of you were expecting and collide your lips with his. Tears and stitches fill the gaps where your tongue danced the last time these lips touched yours. But it was somehow sweeter than any kiss before. 

  “I love you, Eddie Munson…” you breathe, “but I swear I will cut that hair of yours down to the scalp if you try to name this baby ‘Ronnie Dio’, or ‘dragon slayer 86’ or whatever the hell you used to call yourself in your demon club in high school.” 

  For the first time in days, Eddie belly laughs, and kisses each of your cheeks, “ohh princess, don’t tell me your still jealous because Eyeball wouldn’t let you join?” 

  You cross your arms in a pout and Eddie laughs again, “there she is, that’s my girl.” 

  Pushing him away with a playful shove he comes back and kisses you again, both of you smiling and giggling, two idiots in love. With a wince, you scoot over in the bed and make room for him to sit with you, adjusting the wires and tubing around you both you snuggle into him, placing his hand on your belly where you assume the baby to be. 

  He snuggled into your neck and sniffs quietly. Content. 

  “Promise me something?” you whisper as your fingers thread through his curls, he nods into you, kissing your neck sweetly and humming a yes. It’s a big ask, and you’re new to this feeling, “please don’t ever stop loving me.” 

  Eddie’s grin is warm on your cheek as he sits up, looking so far into your eyes your souls reach out and hold hands, “I couldn’t even if I wanted too, baby.” 

  A knock on the door interrupts the moment and you both turn to see a doctor in a long white coat, and green scrubs. His face is jolly and caring, an instant comfort.

  “Ah yes, the nurses told me you were awake,” he says with a big smile, “it was pretty touch and go for awhile there but you look good considering what happened, how are you feeling?” 

  “Sore,” you answer, “everywhere.” 

  “That’ll be expected with the hellish ordeal you went through. Mr. Munson here gave us a brief rundown on what happened, and your injuries coincide that statement. We will be helping you both set up counseling appointments, usually with instances such as these, there will be panic and trauma that will develop from it. I urge you both to take them seriously.” 

  Eddie nods and answers for you, “yes sir.” 

  “Good. Now this soreness, is it generally all over or more localized in one spot?” 

  “I mean my head and face feel pretty awful, but mainly it’s my stomach.” 

  A small look of panic settles on the doctors face but is quickly replaced with a gentle smile, “we will schedule from scans for later today to make sure everything is okay, if you don’t mind— while I’m here,” he says, removing his stethoscope from his neck, “I’ll have a little check, alright?” 

  Eddie moves from the bed and settles by your shoulder,  briefly pressing his lips to your hairline, his warm hand rubbing your arm slowly. 

  “Just routine,” the doctor says, lifting your hospital gown to the top of your stomach, pulling the blankets down to the stop of your knees, “nothing to worr—” his broad smile fades and Eddie lets out a loud gasp. 

  The inside of your thighs and the sheet beneath you are soaked in claret colored blood. You don’t have time to register what is happening before the doctor crosses the room and begins yelling orders through the phone, “this is Dr. Newby, prep OR 2 for a D&E…possible c-section, I’ll need everyone available.” He hangs up with a loud click and turns to address you and Eddie. 

  “What’s going on?!” Eddie demands, fear stricken eyes almost onyx in color, his fingers gripping yours tight. 

  “She needs to be prepped for surgery,” he answers Eddie curtly but still politely. 

  You balk, “Surgery?! Why?!” 

  The doctor looks into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, “you’re having a miscarriage.” 

——

[thisisxli]

𖣘Apricity𖣘

٭.・゜゜・*

٭.・゜゜・*

Rs: Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings:

major character death,

slight heavy angst,

slight spoilers!

summary: Sanemi doesn't allow himself to get close to you. When he lets his guard down just for a second, things turn out the opposite way he wants them to.

wc: 1.5k

edit: btw Sanemi doesn't get reincarnated, he just has a descendant that's super similar to him :)

If you enjoyed and liked this post, you can go to my page and check out my other works! MASTERLIST /

ABOUT ME

Sanemi literally blatantly ignores you when you become part of the now nine-filled Hashira.

He wasn't biased, no, he was far from it.

He just didn't like how you made his heart pound. He was sick of it. He didn't have time for any lovey-dovey shit. He realizes that too, would only hold him back; one would end up dead and the other heart-brokened. Although he promises himself he would never let his partner be killed, theoretically, he would never forgive himself if he ever got them killed.

He knew he was a goner when he found himself above you, pounding you into the sheets like there was no tomorrow.

He avoided you after that. Of course, he didn't want to hurt your feelings, he knows he did, but he also knew he had to. He couldn't get close. No way. So when you came up to ask him, he said,

"I don't want anything to do with you."

His words were like swords driving through your heart. But, you understood. So you walked away with a shattered heart, his own broken one missing the warmth of yours.

Of course, he couldn't avoid you forever. Far from that. But he couldn't be nice to you either. But you went into a mission with the damn maroon-head teenager he found so aggravating. He was worried cause he knew that kid brought bad luck. Honestly, he swears that kid brings nothing but chaos.

When he found you unconscious, carried by the kakushi, he immediately rushed to your side. He ignored the kakushis' protests when he scooped you in his arms, quickly going to Shinobu for you to recover. He was nervous because your injuries seemed pretty serious. When he had Shinobu nurse your injuries, he almost stayed by your side the entire time. Excluding the time where Shinobu changed you into brand new clothes. Technically.. He has seen you naked before. But it was inappropriate. And he wouldn't know what to do if Shinobu saw him stay. Before Kanae's death, Shinobu had rather.. a bad-temper and was also rather off-putting.

It took you two days to wake up; of course, with Sanemi sitting by your side. He flinched when he saw your eyes open, both of your faces holding surprise.

"Sanemi?"

His breath hitched, looking down at your lap. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he mutters, thickly swallowing his saliva. "How.. are you doing?" He looks up at you again when he doesn't get a response, a shocked grunt escaping him when he sees tears pouring from your eyes.

"I.. I..."

Quick like it was on instinct, he pulls you into his arms, hugging your head against his chest. "I was so.. so useless! I could barely-" you hiccup, "barely help Mitsuri! I was so distracted on saving the villagers, I got caught so off-guard when it snatched me off my feet and-" Sanemi pulls you in for a kiss.

You whimper, tears still streaming down. Your hands clutch onto his haori, feverishly returning his kiss before he disconnects them.

"Don't ever say that about yourself. You did what you can and that's final. There's no what you didn't do or couldn't do. You saved people. And that's all that matters."

You sob almost uncontrollably on his chest, one of his hands petting your hair. "You're more than enough."

Sanemi grins when he spars with you, wooden swords making a 'clack' sound each time they connected. Everyone had their Hashira training, even the actual Hashiras.

You, Sanemi, Obanai, even Muichiro, would spar at night, leaving bruises on your skins. You and Sanemi especially sparred the most, wooden swords moving at such a fast speed, bodies moving across the pebble courtyard.

He knocked you off your feet with a swift motion of his leg before catching you with one arm. He smirked at you and you only gave back a fond smile.

Forget losing all the damn lover bullshit. He had you now and he wants you. He gives in to his selfish needs and has you. Making sure Obanai and Muichiro weren't looking, he kisses you. You kiss back, scrunching your fingers through his silver hair.

Boy, was he so wrong.

He should've kept his distance from you. To ignore you and weaken your spirit with insults.

He should've never met you at all.

You were standing there, coughing blood out from your mouth. You were fighting Muzan. Everyone was fighting Muzan. It just happened to be you.

You,

The one whose body was penetrated by his arm.

Your vision was hazy and you were breathing haggardly. God, he couldn't believe it.

Muzan quickly removes his arm from your body, your blood splattering across the floor. You fall to your knees, your breath becoming heavier, blood seeping more onto your uniform. Sanemi quickly swoops you up before Muzan could attack you, laying you down against a wall of a building.

"Y-you..." Sanemi sputtered, anger etched across his features. His brother, now you?!

You smile softly at him.

His angry expression quickly fades away. He panics, his hands roaming above your body, ghosting above your touch. He was scared, like if he was gonna touch you, you'd instantly die. Tears were already falling from his eyes, eyebrows furrowing together until his forehead hurt. He shut his eyes tightly, hanging his head low, hyperventilating, praying this was all but just a dream.

He imagined a normal life with his siblings, being closer to Genya more than ever. Then he would find you, be with you, marry you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. Why was that so hard to have?

A sob rips out from his throat, feeling your hand cup his cheek. He looks up at you as you look back at him with those same fond eyes.

"I love you, Sanemi. You were all I could've asked for."

When your hand falls from his cheek, he shrills. Instantly, he holds your body close to his for comfort, hugging you tightly as if you were gonna disintegrate like his little brother. His heart hurts. Hurts so bad. It was so much to bear.

He kisses your temple before looking at you one last time, going back into battle.

He takes in his last breath, his only last and ever thought being you.

Sanehiro takes his patrol on the sidewalk, whistling as he watches the wind blows against blossomed trees. He loved this time of year-

"Crap... I'm so sorry!"

Someone had bumped into his chest. It was a woman. He sees her bowing at him which he waved off, a vein popping out in his temple. "Hey- it's no worries. Just-" he pauses, his face falling when he sees you rise, your face coming into his view.

You nervously fiddle with your fingers, chuckling. "That's good, I hope I wasn't any trouble for you sir. Or!- or a distraction!" You grin at him. He quickly takes his cap off, bowing at her. She flinches in surprise, watching him silently. "You're no distraction to me at all, miss," he says, standing up straight. He runs a hand through his silver hair, smiling at you fondly. You stare at him, mouth open. You quickly shake your head, chuckling awkwardly.

"Would you.. ever wanna hang out some time?" He perked up at your suggestion before nodding. You both exchange numbers before bidding farewell.

Oddly enough, you found yourself with a prideful and rude white-haired man. Again.

[ylangelegy]

the loser and lover both die at the end ꩜ yeonjun.

── .✦ 💌 inspired by adam silvera's they both die at the end, major character death, alternate universe: non-idol, [heavy] angst, grief/mourning, last day on earth, platonic relationships, slice of life, [possibly] unrequited love.

── .✦ 🚏 this is the last of my non-svt/skz fanfiction for now! first published on ao3... at a time where i was admittedly very obsessed with yeonjun's watermelon sugar x blow dance cover (lol). this is thematically heavy, so please look out for yourself. it's also my first ever kpop fic (whew!) and so my writing style isn't like this anymore, but it's a good time capsule of some sorts.

── .✦ 📟 wc: 12,000+

On the day that he’s supposed to die, Choi Yeonjun learns what it means to be alive.

Choi Yeonjun was in the locker room when he got the call.

It was cruel, really. Everything had been so perfect until then. The cold noodles he had for breakfast were divine. There wasn’t any traffic on the way to the dance studio. And it took him only three hours to film his dance cover of Watermelon Sugar, as opposed to his other routines that usually ate up his whole day.

He had ducked into the locker room to send the group chat a quick text about their dinner plans when his phone started ringing. It was an unregistered number, which Yeonjun wouldn’t usually have bothered to answer— but he was in such a good mood, and how could anything go wrong on a day like this? 

“Yeonjun speaking,” he chirped, using his free hand to sift through the mess of his locker. He was pretty sure he’d packed an extra pair of clothes somewhere. “Who’s this?” 

“Hello. I’m calling from Death-cast.”

A beat.

“Could you please confirm that you are Choi Yeonjun, born September 13, 1999?” the monotone voice on the other end of the line asked.

It wasn’t until later that Yeonjun would realize how standard the entire spiel was. He’d already mentioned his name on the get-go; this stranger was just calmly reading off a script as if it weren’t the worst call of Yeonjun’s life.

“Hello, Yeonjun? Are you there?” 

“Yes,” Yeonjun said quickly. Pulling away from his locker, he slumped down onto the nearest bench. “Yes, this is Choi Yeonjun.” 

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours, you will be meeting an untimely death.” The caller paused, as if to let the information sink in. 

“On behalf of Death-cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun responded dazedly. Then, more out of habit than anything, he weakly added, “Thank you.” 

The call cut without another word.

Yeonjun sat in his seat for what felt like an eternity, staring at his phone log. Three minutes. His entire conversation with the Death-cast had lasted only three minutes. 

This had happened to him before. He’d be having a Good Day, but then something small would come around and trip him up.

Maybe the master CD would refuse to play. Maybe Soobin nicked the kimbap he’d been saving. There was always something.

Beomgyu jokingly called them hiccups, and Yeonjun found himself waiting for them; holding his breath for whatever might take away his day’s joy.

The Death-cast call was today’s hiccup. The worst hiccup he’d ever gotten.

His phone pinged, snapping him out of his shell-shocked state. It was Soobin. 

do u still need a ride? 

Ping. Another text from Soobin. 

reply asap i wont hv time 2 make a uturn if u dont reply NOW 

Despite himself, Yeonjun chuckled. What did Soobin know about not having time?

As he keyed in his response, he contemplated skipping out on dinner. Maybe he could just disappear. No one would ever have to know he was dying, and they’d also never know when he died. 

I’ll meet you there, Yeonjun responded instead.

Ping. 

suit urself!!!! dnt b late yeonttomeok ~

The stupid nickname. Yeonjun grimaced at the sight of it. Then, his expression softened, because he realized that he couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun couldn’t run from Soobin or the rest of the boys. If he was going to spend his last day with anyone, he was going to do it with them. 

He left the dance studio half an hour later. He emptied out his locker first, then he walked around for a bit to take it all in. On his way out, he tacked a note on the studio’s student corkboard. 

It would take a few days for anyone to notice. The grieving custodian is the one who finds it; a neon orange Post-It, hiding in plain sight among a sea of reminders and ID pictures. 

Thank you, he’d written. For everything. -YJ. 09/16/21

“You should try some of my pizza,” Hueningkai said enthusiastically, shoving a slice onto everyone’s plates. “It’s to die for!”

Yeonjun choked on his drink. 

On Yeonjun’s right, Beomgyu burst into peals of laughter, mimicking Yeonjun’s hacking coughs. Soobin, on the left, was tapping Yeonjun’s back sympathetically— though also visibly holding back his own grin.

As Yeonjun tried to clear the blockage in his throat, he fleetingly thought that this was it. He was going to drop dead in the booth of an American fast food chain, right before he could even tell his friends that he was on borrowed time.

But then the cola went down, and Hueningkai’s incessant apologies started sounding louder than the fears in his head, and Yeonjun quietly thanked God that his cause of death was not as lame as he thought it’d be.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Yeonjun sighed, looking around the table. A sneer for Beomgyu. A smile of reassurance for Soobin and Hueningkai. And for Taehyun… 

There was an odd look on Taehyun’s face that knocked the wind out of Yeonjun. 

It was almost like Taehyun knew. How could he, though?

Yeonjun held the other boy’s gaze, the two of them staring each other down intently. 

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of Yeonjun’s face.

Taehyun looked temporarily startled by the intrusion before his expression quickly shifted into something more pleasant. Despite both of them breaking into a smile, Yeonjun couldn’t help but still feel a bit unsettled. 

“You’re extra sunny today,” Yeonjun sarcastically told Beomgyu. The latter smiled cheekily and shrugged. 

“What can I say? I love the first Friday of each month,” the younger boy said. As he turned away from Yeonjun to shove some fries into his mouth, it occurred to Yeonjun that this would be their last first Friday.

The five of them had been close friends since 2019. It started off as a small group that enjoyed playing computer games with each other, but then Taehyun quit gaming to focus on his studies and Hueningkai decided he wanted to spend his money on collecting plush toys.

It was Soobin who insisted that they meet up even if it meant not going to internet cafes anymore. That unassuming evening marked the start of a two-year tradition of meeting up every first Friday of the month. 

They still met up outside of those Fridays, of course. Soobin and Yeonjun actually moved in to be roommates half a year ago, and Beomgyu liked to still play video games with Yeonjun every now and then.

But first Fridays were sacred. No one missed out on them, come storms or break-ups. Their Fridays were the glue that kept the five of them together. 

“Sorry. Give me a second.” 

It didn’t immediately register to Yeonjun that Taehyun had excused himself from the table. Only when Hueningkai made an offhand comment about Taehyun taking his time, only then did the feeling of dread settle at the pit of Yeonjun’s stomach. 

“I’ll check on him,” he volunteered immediately, hastily climbing over Soobin’s legs to get out of the suffocating booth.

As he speedily walked away, he could hear Beomgyu cracking a joke to the remaining two boys. Yeonjun missed out on the rest of the story as he ducked into the men’s bathroom.

The overwhelming stench of bile was the first thing that hit Yeonjun; instinctively, he covered his nose with his hand.

From a barely closed stall, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone retching. Trying his best not to gag, Yeonjun took a few tentative steps towards the source. 

From where he was standing, he could recognize Taehyun’s Adidas shoes. 

Yeonjun couldn’t come any closer. 

Taehyun, from inside the stall, finally stopped convulsing. A brief moment passed before he flushed and stumbled out. Head bent, Taehyun mumbled apologies before stopping in his tracks at the sight of Yeonjun. For the second time that night, the two carefully regarded each other. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Taehyun made an annoyed tsk sound. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned up at the older boy.

“You too, huh?” he asked quietly. 

To Yeonjun, it felt like the punch line to the world’s worst joke. 

They decided to tell the rest of the boys after footing the bill. 

It was unceremonious at best and merciless at worst, for Taehyun and Yeonjun to break the news outside Hueningkai’s favorite restaurant. And Beomgyu made it so easy, too, by kidding about it as they headed out.

“What are you two so nice for? Don’t tell me you’re dying,” he teased, and Taehyun and Yeonjun shared a look as if to say, Well, now that you’ve mentioned it… 

Even though they talked it over in the bathroom, actually telling the rest turned out to be quite hard. At first, Beomgyu thought they were messing with him; that they’d colluded the whole plot while they were both gone.

As he screeched at Taehyun and Yeonjun that it wasn’t funny, Yeonjun pulled out his phone to show off his last received call. Taehyun did the same. 

Beomgyu got dreadfully quiet after that.

Soobin, ever the soft one, burst into quiet tears. Hueningkai held on to him, looking as though he might pass out if he wasn’t clutching on to something. Taehyun approached the two and whispered words of comfort that Yeonjun caught only bits and pieces of. 

“Have each other… Accepted our fate… Be okay…” 

Lies, the eldest of them found himself thinking angrily. All lies. 

No longer able to handle it, Yeonjun stalked over to Beomgyu. The younger boy was crouched near the sidewalk corner with no discernible expression on his face. His silence spoke volumes to Yeonjun; it was comforting to share, so much that Yeonjun felt a bit disappointed when Beomgyu spoke up. 

“What now?” 

“What now?” Yeonjun repeated.

“Are you just gonna lay down and die?” Beomgyu asked brazenly. Momentarily floored by Beomgyu’s audacity, Yeonjun looked at him like it was his first time seeing him. 

It was a silly notion, honestly. They saw each other practically every day. Next to Soobin, Beomgyu was the one closest to him. Admittedly, though, Beomgyu was also the one who irritated him the most. 

But not today. 

“I’ve always loved how shameless you can be,” Yeonjun blurted out, the heat immediately rushing to his cheeks at the sudden confession. If Beomgyu was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he answered with a faint smirk. “Anyway, back to my question. What now? Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?” 

“But it’s 8 PM,” Yeonjun said dumbly. Beomgyu promptly smacked him on the back of the head, making Yeonjun yell with indignation. 

“You’re dying and you’re thinking about curfew?” Beomgyu bellowed. “Do you understand just how stupid that sounds?”

“I swear, you’ll be the one that kills me,” Yeonjun grumbled, rubbing the spot Beomgyu hit. 

The younger boy barrelled on. “We don’t know how or when exactly you’re going to die. You and Tae can’t sit around and just wait. There’s so much that you can do in 24 hours!”

“Less than 24 hours.” 

“With all due respect, Junnie—I don’t give a fuck.” 

Yeonjun let out a disbelieving chuckle. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu was right. It’d be a waste to spend his last day in fearful anticipation of the inevitable.

“Do you have a marker on you?” Yeonjun asked suddenly. 

Between the five of them, Beomgyu was the only one who was skilled at drawing. He sometimes carried the most random of art materials around with him and that night was no exception. “Just a blue one,” he said after sifting through his backpack. No questions asked, he passed it over to Yeonjun.

Looking around, Yeonjun zeroed in on the restaurant’s painted wall. It was in a pristine shade of white. Perfect. 

“Cover for me,” he commanded Beomgyu. The latter did as he was told, shielding Yeonjun from the street’s view. 

After a minute or two, Beomgyu was no longer able to contain his curiosity. “What are you doing?” he piped up, obviously trying to mask his interest. 

The impatience made Yeonjun laugh. 

“You can look now,” he said. 

Beomgyu turned to face Yeonjun.

On the restaurant’s shop front, Yeonjun had left yet another small thing to be remembered by. Along with a doodle of a pizza and a cola was a scrawled note, a note: YJ’s last supper. 09/16/21. 

If it had been any other day, Beomgyu might have commented on the abysmal state of Yeonjun’s drawings or the chicken scratch quality of his handwriting. That night, though, he wordlessly reached out for the marker.

Quickly, he sketched what seemed to be chibi versions of the two of them. 

“Always stealing my thunder,” Yeonjun jeered, though the taunt was softened significantly by the astonishment beneath his tone. Beomgyu’s rendition of them was uncanny. Finishing up, he wrote: Gyu was here too! 

Beomgyu looked up at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun smiled at him in response.

An iPhone note found in Choi Yeonjun’s phone, dated September 16, 2021. Last edited: 8:34 PM. 

☑ Commit vandalism 

☑ Have a good meal 

▢ Film and post a dance video

▢ Play Overwatch

▢ Go to a thrift shop and buy Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin better clothes

▢ Go on a date 

▢ Write my last will and testament 

▢ Say goodbye to mom and dad

▢ Take photos to leave for Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin

“You’re seriously going to waste time on Overwatch? On your last day ever?” Beomgyu complained.

Yeonjun angled his phone away from Beomgyu’s view. “It’s my bucket list. Not yours.” 

“Stop fighting,” Soobin said. His eyes were rimmed with red from his non-stop crying. It made Yeonjun’s heart ache. 

The three of them were in the back of a cab, heading to Yeonjun’s family home in Bundang. Though it was the last on his bucket list, it was the first thing he wanted off his chest.

He didn’t intend to tell his parents over the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he should even tell his parents at all. 

Half an hour ago, Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to not wallow over their impending death. They had individual businesses that they first had to deal with but they made plans to meet up after so the five of them could be complete.

Hueningkai stuck with Taehyun while Beomgyu and Soobin decided to accompany Yeonjun. 

“I’m just saying, you could be spending your time a little wiser than losing to me and Soobin,” Beomgyu quipped. 

Sighing dramatically, Yeonjun removed the goal from his list. 

Before he could hit Beomgyu with another wisecrack, their ride came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, Soobin was strict on always wearing seatbelts; the safety device kept them from launching forward, though Beomgyu’s forehead did collide with the driver’s headrest. 

Beomgyu howled with pain as the driver profusely apologized. “A stray cat bolted in front of us as I was pulling in to park,” the driver explained. “I didn’t notice.” 

Yeonjun exhaled, one hand clutching his chest. 

The three of them slid out of the backseat and onto the Seongnam sidewalk. “You alright?” Soobin asked quietly as Beomgyu went to pay for the ride. 

The honest answer: Yeonjun was a little shaken.

Each step felt like there might be a minefield beneath his feet. He kept imagining a bunch of different scenarios on how it would happen, who would be there with him when it did. He didn’t want it to be any of the three boys, but they were insistent on keeping him and Taehyun company. 

No one seemed like they were ready to let go. 

Instead, what Yeonjun said: “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Beomgyu returned, another unreadable expression on his face. “The driver wouldn’t let me pay,” he reported, shaking his head. “He eavesdropped on us a bit, I think, because he—” A pause. 

The hard-to-read look suddenly became clear to Yeonjun. It was the same look of when Beomgyu polaroids came out all wrong, or when he miscalculated a toy’s position in a claw game. It was a mix of annoyance, and disappointment—and a little bit of sadness. 

“He what?” Soobin prompted.

Beomgyu looked directly at Yeonjun, opening and closing his mouth as though considering how to tell him. Finally, he choked out the rest of his sentence. 

“He sends his condolences.” 

“The worst thing that could ever happen to a parent is to have their child leave this Earth before them.”

Those were the only words that Yeonjun committed to memory. The conversation he had with his parents was not so much a conversation as much as it was groveling, sobbing, cursing.

There was anger. There was sadness. There was all the love they could offer each other. 

Though it broke his heart, Yeonjun begged his parents to let him go for the simple reason that he couldn’t bear the thought of passing away in their presence. He promised to call, if he could. He swore to have Beomgyu and Soobin at his side, at all times, to call them if he couldn’t. 

Then his father told him about the worst thing that could happen—how it was already happening—, and he hugged Yeonjun with a finality that didn’t need any spoken goodbye, and Yeonjun damn near reconsidered throwing it all away to spend his final hours with them.

Holding on to his pride, he hugged his father back. He gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. 

He asked that they both smile so his last image of them would be “not all that sad.”

And, just like that, the Chois let go of their only son. 

The cab ride back to Hueningkai and Taehyun was a solemn one. Yeonjun was thankful that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin felt the need to speak. They had waited outside Yeonjun’s home while he was saying his goodbyes to his parents, and they had let him take the window seat where he could stare listlessly out at the highway. This is the last time I’ll see this strip of road, Yeonjun numbly thought to himself. It was tiring to think in lasts. It was all he could seem to do as the minutes ticked by.

Ping. 

Hueningkai, whose Instagram account previously had zero photos, had just uploaded a photo of him posing with Taehyun. Lotte World all to ourselves!!!~ , the caption said.

“That’s new,” Beomgyu mumbled, looking at the post over Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“We saw each other practically every day for the past two years,” Soobin interjected, voice hollow. He was staring at Hueningkai’s post on his own phone. “Hyuka never saw the point in posting about us, because it wasn’t like we were going anywhere.”

The implication of Soobin’s words weighed heavy in the air. Now that two of us are dying, Hueningkai wants to capture whatever we have left. 

“I’m just glad to finally be Instagram official,” Beomgyu blurted out.

Both Soobin and Yeonjun shook their head, but Yeonjun was secretly glad to have an excuse to laugh. 

By the time they got to Lotte World, Hueningkai and Taehyun were already donning ridiculous animal headbands and sharing some honey butter chips.

“I got you guys headbands, too!” Hueningkai said. He pulled three out of his bag and proceeded to pass Beomgyu and Soobin theirs. Hueningkai asked Yeonjun to bend down so he could put it on himself.

“A fox?” Yeonjun asked, skeptically eyeing his reflection in a nearby shop mirror.

“Don’t you look like one?” Hueningkai shot back.

“How am I a bear?” Beomgyu whined, pinching the brown ears of his own headband.

Soobin quickly retorted, “Because you’re un-bear-able!”

It was a terrible pun but all the boys chuckled a bit nonetheless. Beomgyu yelled “Yah!”, reaching out to hit Soobin— who swiftly dodged, which meant Beomgyu’s slap landed on the small of Taehyun’s back. The chase that ensued had Soobin, Hueningkai, and Yeonjun doubling over in laughter.

“By the way,” Yeonjun mused out loud as they started strolling down the amusement park’s mostly empty avenues. “Why are we here after hours? Lotte World should be closed.”

Hueningkai’s face fell, and Yeonjun suddenly wished that he never asked.

“Lotte World is tied in with Death-cast,” Beomgyu answered instead. He and Taehyun had caught up to the rest, done with their chase. The latter looked a little out of breath; Yeonjun concernedly glanced over at him, to which Taehyun responded with a thumbs up and a gesture to keep listening to Beomgyu. “They allot their after-hours to people who might want to spend their last day here.”

Not wanting to dampen the mood any further, Yeonjun forced on a smirk. He threw an arm around Hueningkai’s shoulders and gave him a light shove forward

“Let’s make the most out of it then!” Yeonjun said resolutely. “Come on, Hyuka. We’ll go wherever you pick!”

That made Hueningkai light up like a Christmas tree. For the first time that night, Yeonjun felt like he’d done something right.

And go wherever Hueningkai picked they did. After around an hour or so, Soobin was already calling for something less exciting. “I don’t think my heart can take any more of this,” he cried dramatically.

“How about there?” Hueningkai said excitedly. Four pairs of eyes followed to see where he was pointing: A photobooth.

 “Perfect,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve been meaning to take some photos.”

 “Why don’t we go first, hyung?”

The other boys fell quiet when Taehyun addressed Yeonjun. Taehyun was smiling delicately, face flushed from the consecutive high-stakes rides. In one hand, he held a squirrel stuffed toy that Beomgyu had won him at a shooting game.

Taehyun looked so serene. So alive, Yeonjun thought in awe.

Yeonjun grinned back at his friend. “I’d like that.”

The two slid into the booth as Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin looked at costumes for themselves.

“This is part of my bucket list,” Yeonjun shared as he started loading the coins into its slot. “I wanted to give them photos of us, for them to remember.”

“That’s smart,” Taehyun responded. “We won’t have enough photos of each other to go by.”

Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look directly at Taehyun. Outside the booth, they could hear the sounds of Hueningkai and Soobin arguing over a plastic mustache.

If they tried really hard, they could pretend that it was just like any other day—and shouldn’t it be like that anyway, Yeonjun contemplated. He debated about asking Taehyun whether he thought this was for the best; knowing they’d pass within 24 hours.

As if sensing Yeonjun’s internal conflict, Taehyun reached out to push the last few coins into their slot. The photobooth roared to life, a woman’s voice welcoming them and instructing them on what to click next. Neither of the two tapped on anything on the screen.

But then Taehyun shrugged. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s leave them with good-looking photos of us.”

Before the two could pose properly, though, Beomgyu burst through the curtains of the photo booth. “Cheese!” he screeched, throwing himself over Taehyun and Yeonjun’s legs.

“Hey!” Yeonjun protested, trying to shove Beomgyu off his lap. Meanwhile, Taehyun started giggling and making room for Beomgyu on the bench.

Click. Click. Click.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Yeonjun groaned as the photo strips printed out. In the first two photos, he and Taehyun looked fine; the remaining four were extremely chaotic with Beomgyu’s unexpected entrance.

“You look best here, don’t you think?” Beomgyu said innocently, pointing out the picture where Yeonjun was mid-yell. The older boy raised his hand as if to smack Beomgyu, who promptly ducked behind Hueningkai for protection.

“We can take more,” Taehyun assured. Despite his tousled hair and the beads of sweat trailing down his face, he shone brighter than he ever had. There was a reassuring smile on his face, one that had found comfort in an inevitable fate. 

When all is said and done, that is how Yeonjun chooses to remember Taehyun; the healthy, happy Taehyun of this moment.

Yeonjun doesn’t know that yet, of course. Not while it’s happening. “I want one with our baby Hyuka,” he announced, reaching out for the youngest of their group.

“I’ll get some with Soobin and Beomgyu then,” Taehyun responded.

They took photos with each other and of each other. Taehyun and Yeonjun eventually got their own photo strip without Beomgyu interrupting. The five of them had at least seven different sets together until they’d run through each prop the booth had to offer, and they’d played with every single filter available.

Hueningkai held on to the photo strips as if they were important documents. As they went out to grab some snacks at one of the nearby food stalls, Yeonjun followed Hueningkai wandering over to a corner.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked.

The blonde boy had laid out all the photos and was attempting to take a picture of them. “Oh, I was making a post on my Instagram account,” he admitted, sounding a bit shy of the fact.

“I saw you posted for the first time earlier.”

“Yeah, I never had a reason to use my account before. I guess I just... want to document today. I don’t want to forget anything.”

The slight quiver in his voice damn near made Yeonjun cry. Reeling in his emotions, Yeonjun moved around some of the photo strips. “Here,” he said. “I think it looks better like that.”

Smiling appreciatively, Hueningkai snapped his picture.

“What should I caption it?”

They both paused, contemplating. 

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Hueningkai said excitedly, typing away at his phone. Yeonjun peered over his shoulder to check.

“‘Five forever,’” Yeonjun read out loud.

“Five forever,” Hueningkai repeated resolutely, looking straight at Yeonjun. “No matter what.”  

If he had a choice, Yeonjun would have gone out dancing. 

Dance was one of the few constants in his life. It was something Yeonjun whole-heartedly knew that he was good at. He meant to be an instructor, even, had the Death-cast call never happened.

His peers constantly joked that he was in the running to take over their studio’s director role. Guess they were wrong, Yeonjun bitterly thought to himself as he intently scrolled through his phone for a song. 

His final dance break song. 

The boys had set out after Lotte World to go clothes shopping when Yeonjun remembered one of the other to-dos on his list. Film and post a dance video. They took a detour to the nearest park and loitered a bit, and Yeonjun was reckoned with the most difficult decision of his dancing career. 

All this time, he refused to upload any clips of him dancing. Sure, there were some up on the Internet; group dances from the studio, an Instagram story here and there from his friends. But Yeonjun had never uploaded one himself— never quite ready for that kind of self-exposure. 

Now or never, he decided. 

“You did Watermelon Sugar earlier today, didn’t you?” Soobin asked as he curiously peered over Yeonjun’s shoulder to check the song options. “The remix with Blow. Why don’t you just redo that?” 

“I want to do something new. Something original,” Yeonjun responded distractedly. FEVER? Paper Hearts? “But all of these, I’ve already danced to.”

“What about one of ours?” Beomgyu offered, yawning and stretching absentmindedly. 

Yeonjun stopped scrolling. 

Taehyun, from a bench away, let out a groan. “You know the demos we make aren’t serious,” he complained. “And don’t you have an ounce of shame, Gyu? Those songs were kind of—”

“Don’t you dare call them bad!” Beomgyu interrupted defensively. “Our songs could have made it big if you weren’t so keen on locking them up!”

“Upload it once I’m gone, then,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Call that shit posthumous.” 

As Beomgyu flinched and Hueningkai rained a few punches down Taehyun’s back, Yeonjun sped through their group chat to find the recording of their latest arrangement. They’d composed only around half of it, promising each other that they would continue the rest on their next first Friday. 

The rock instrumentals of their demo LOSER=LOVER struck up and echoed across the empty park. Soobin’s singing came out loud and clear through Yeonjun’s phone speakers.

“I’m a loser, I’m a loser,” Soobin crooned along with the audio. In the background, Taehyun covered his ears and Beomgyu perked up, ready to steal Yeonjun’s parts in the song. 

Had it been any other day, Yeonjun would have rolled his eyes at the younger boy, but his mind was busy putting together the pieces of a possible dance routine. Usually, it took him days to come up with one that he was content with. He didn’t have that much time tonight.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Yeonjun announced after one full listen of the unfinished track. He stood and positioned himself between the row of blooming dogwood trees, trying to shake out the lingering uneasiness.

“I can film you!” Hueningkai cried out excitedly, standing across Yeonjun as the latter did some light stretching. Yeonjun shot him an appreciative thumbs up. 

Inhale. They’d all seen him dance before; he could just never fully shake his nervousness. The others seemed to pick up on this, quickly giving Yeonjun small forms of affirmation.

Beomgyu let out encouraging hoots and chanted Yeonjun’s name. Taehyun finally lowered his hands from his ears, smiling assuredly in anticipation of the routine. And Soobin pulled out his own phone, finger poised expectantly over his record button. 

Exhale. 

Yeonjun hit play, and immediately found himself consumed by the music.

It was like second nature to him. Every agile step, every sharp turn. He followed along to the song as if it were something he’d practiced his whole life. Each beat reverberated to his very bone, filling his chest with so much joy he felt like a balloon that just might burst.

“Here comes the good stuff!” Beomgyu squealed as Taehyun started humming along. Love you, love you, love you; no matter what I do. 

“I say run, laugh like you’ve gone mad, ” Hueningkai belted out. Yeonjun almost missed a step because of how it distracted him, but he was glad to have small disturbances such as Beomgyu trying to mimic his dance moves or Taehyun finally screaming the lyrics out loud as well.

The post-chorus was his and Beomgyu’s part. It was the easiest choreography to think of, too. I’m a loser, his pre-recorded self sang, and the Yeonjun dancing threw up an L with his pointer finger and thumb. He broke out into a smile, feeling as if the world were spinning. 

It’s the sensation he’ll miss the most. The heat, the soreness. Even then, he knows that his body will ache most for the rush he had come to adore. 

The song ended abruptly, and Yeonjun snapped out of his trance.

The boys were all clapping and cheering. “I can’t believe you did all that in one go,” Taehyun complimented as Beomgyu and Hueningkai surged forward to envelope Yeonjun in a hug. 

“I’m sweaty!” the oldest boy complained laughingly, allowing them to embrace him nonetheless.

“I have the fan cam version!” Soobin joked, holding up his phone. “Where do you want it?” 

Grinning widely over Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s shoulders, Yeonjun told Soobin, “Everywhere.” 

If there was anything Beomgyu and Yeonjun so intimately shared, it would be their terrific sense of fashion— something the rest of the boys were so painfully ignorant about. 

So when Yeonjun had to choose someone to accompany him to the 24/7 Myeongdeong thrift shops— Taehyun complained that he was tired and wanted to go back to his dorm— the answer was as clear as day. Beomgyu and Yeonjun promised to regroup with them back at Taehyun’s within an hour.

It was a comforting shopping spree, actually. Beomgyu must have toned down his energy, only hitting Yeonjun with the occasional wisecrack compared to the typical several jokes per minute. Briefly, Yeonjun worried that he was being pitied. 

“This would look good on Hyuka,” Beomgyu commented, holding up a light gray sweatshirt for Yeonjun to see. The two were in their last store. They already had eco bags crammed to the brim with clothes, but they’d decided to do a final stop before heading home.

“I was thinking about this one for Soobin,” Yeonjun said in turn, showing off a black and yellow embroidered vest. 

“That one’s nice.”

“I think Hyuka would fit comfortably in that panel shirt over there, too.” 

After snagging a couple more overrun Ralph Lauren pieces and three pairs of specs for Soobin, the two fell in line for checkout. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this more often,” Beomgyu hummed, rustling through the picks. “Shopping with Soobin was so boring. He only ever wanted to go to the department store.”

“I gave up on Hyuka, too,” Yeonjun laughed. He was excited to see Hueningkai’s expression; a lot of the clothes they’d picked for him were sure to fit his style. “This should be enough to last them for a little while.”

“And then they’ll go back to their plain clothes?” 

“And then you’ll buy them more.” 

A long pause followed Yeonjun’s words.

Though he had packaged it as a joke, they both knew the underlying message lurking under the lighthearted tone. You’ll take care of them, right? Yeonjun was asking. 

Beomgyu pursed his lips together and nodded, answering the unspoken question. I will.

Yeonjun gave him an appreciative smile. I knew I could count on you. 

“What else do you have on your bucket list, anyway?” Beomgyu asked in an effort to change the topic. They shuffled forward awkwardly, the line in front of them moving along rather slow. 

“Just some serious stuff left, really,” Yeonjun replied vaguely. To write his last will and testament was still left unchecked. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d do it; sitting down and accepting his fate like that was a terrifying ordeal. “There is one that’s pretty tame, but I’m thinking of just crossing it out completely.” 

“Which?” 

“To go on a date.” Yeonjun laughed at the thought of it. It seemed so trivial now. 

He’d put it down because he hadn’t really had the time to go on a proper date. Though his mother tried setting him up with her neighbors’ daughters— and even though Soobin offered a double date every now and then— Yeonjun found that he was always too busy, too disinterested, too insecure.

A small part of him wished he’d said yes to at least one of them so he could have a memory at a cafe or a cinema. But he was so caught up in thinking that he had so much more time than he actually did, and he thought his first date would be something special— only to have it not happen at all. 

Nothing good comes to those who wait, he thought woefully. 

Beomgyu whipped out his phone and clicked on an app. Leaning over to peek, Yeonjun saw that it was for dating. He knew that Beomgyu and Soobin had profiles. He just couldn’t be bothered to get one, too. Putting himself out there like that felt scary. 

“This is a great way to find a date, even if you’re in a bit of a clutch,” Beomgyu chirped. “I’ve used it before when I needed someone to go with me to a wedding or a school fair.” 

“That’s smart.” 

“I know right? Anyway— we’re not here to talk about the obvious.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but Beomgyu barreled on. “Let’s make you a profile.” 

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun started hesitantly. Beomgyu was quick to interject. 

“What are you scared of?” he challenged. “What do you have to lose, really?” 

Yesterday, Yeonjun might have answered his dignity or his pride. In the thrift shop, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that Beomgyu was right. He had nothing to lose. 

“Sign me up,” Yeonjun conceded, and Beomgyu broke out into a proud grin. 

After arguing over which photos of Yeonjun to choose, Beomgyu typed out a prospective bio to go on his profile. Urgent: Dying boy seeking a mind-blowing date that will let him go out with a bang. 

“You make it sound so dirty,” Yeonjun groaned, grabbing the phone from Beomgyu and deleting the entire text.

As the latter protested, Yeonjun tried his hand at a bio. Less than 24 hours left and looking for love. Be my baby before burying me six feet under? 

“How pessimistic!” Beomgyu cried disapprovingly, though both of them were shaking with laughter. For a short while, they took turns writing terrible descriptions.

Beomgyu typed out Let’s kill this love, to which Yeonjun added ‘Till (my) death do we part.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Beomgyu concluded as he gasped for air. “Come on, we’re not even in the actual app yet.”

The next screen asked for Yeonjun’s dating preference.

Beomgyu tapped on the ‘Women’ button, showing it to Yeonjun for approval.

Riding on their shared joy and his newfound confidence, Yeonjun mindlessly blurted out, “Can you actually choose ‘Both’?”

In our life, we often experience “oh” moments. Modest points in time where so many things can shift in a split second. For both Beomgyu and Yeonjun— in that thrift shop line, with their sore arms carrying more clothes that either of them could ever need— that was one of those junctures for the two of them.

“Oh,” Beomgyu said, and it occurred to Yeonjun, suddenly. What he’d asked for. 

Fear went off in Yeonjun’s brain like a screeching, bright red fire alarm. He wanted to take it back. He could say it was a joke.

But there was something in Beomgyu’s face— an expression that wasn’t of judgment or disgust. There was a gentle hopefulness to the way he looked at Yeonjun then. He looked so painfully reassuring, so ready to accept whatever Yeonjun wanted to do, wanted to be. 

So how could Yeonjun lie to him? 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun choked out, clenching his jaw nervously. 

“I never knew,” Beomgyu mumbled before switching the options. Then, quickly, he added: “Me, too. I mean—I chose ‘Both’, too. I’m… I am, too.” 

It was Yeonjun’s turn to say “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu chuckled. “I guess you never know, huh?” 

Yeonjun nodded wordlessly, hoping that Beomgyu wouldn’t prod any further. Thankfully, the cashier finally called them to the front.

As Yeonjun unloaded the clothes they’d shopped, Beomgyu gestured that he’d do it. He shoved his phone at Yeonjun and pushed him to one side.

“If you want a date, you should get busy swiping,” Beomgyu said, beaming with amusement as he geared up for his punch line. “Let them know you’re dead serious.”

Hueningkai, Soobin, and Taehyun were watching something on Netflix by the time Beomgyu and Yeonjun got back. 

The three were settled comfortably on the couch, sharing several opened bags of junk food and two bottles of cider. “Is that Squid Game? You’re watching without me?!” Beomgyu whined, trying to grab the remote from Soobin. 

“I’m dying. I think I deserve to know what happens in episode six,” Taehyun said blankly before popping a chip in his mouth. Beomgyu pretended not to hear him, still scuffling with an indignant Soobin who was trying hard not to tear his gaze away from the screen. Meanwhile, Hueningkai greeted Yeonjun and helped him carry the bags into the room. 

“Oh, this is so soft!” Hueningkai cried, zeroing out on the sweatshirt from earlier.

“Beomgyu picked that out for you,” Yeonjun said proudly. 

“Thank you, Gyu!” 

With Beomgyu successfully pausing the show, Soobin leaned over to inspect the pile of clothes that Hueningkai had toppled over. “This is a lot,” he said in awe.

“Please, this is barely half of what Yeonjun and I have,” Beomgyu scoffed. 

As Taehyun ducked out to go to the bathroom, the boys sorted through the articles of clothing. Hueningkai and Soobin were incredibly enthusiastic, building each other’s pile of new clothes; mixing and matching some on the spot. While Beomgyu was criticizing their pairings, Yeonjun once again noticed a gap in their group.

A space that was left unfilled. 

Yeonjun excused himself and stumbled over the clothes, towards the bathroom. It was unlocked. He peeked inside and found it empty. Something in his stomach sank at the sight of minuscule blood droplets on the toilet lid. How had no one noticed Taehyun slipping away? 

Suddenly hyperaware, Yeonjun heard the distant, muted click of the front door closing. 

Why was Taehyun trying to slip away? 

Telling the rest that they were going on a quick 7-Eleven run— and swearing to the other boys that they’d both come back in one piece—Yeonjun grabbed his windbreaker and rushed out to follow Taehyun. It didn’t take much to find him. He was hanging out at the bus stop nearest his dorm, a city map in his hands. 

Taehyun didn’t look surprised to see Yeonjun jogging up to him. 

“Of course you’d notice,” Taehyun said once Yeonjun had reached him. “Do the others know?” 

“We’re at 7-Eleven,” Yeonjun responded stiffly. The other boy cocked his head to one side as if assessing the lie. 

“Believable. You should grab some bread for Soobin on your way back.” 

“On our way back.” 

“I’m not going back there, and you know it.” 

Cold, callous, and calculating. Those were the typical words one would use to describe Taehyun. In their group, Taehyun was the most stable and reliable; he managed Beomgyu’s erratic moods and always looked out for Hueningkai.

It was easy to forget that he was on the younger end, considering how mature he always presented himself to be. 

None of that maturity seemed to shine through in that very bus stop. Yeonjun saw Taehyun for what he was: A teenage boy counting his minutes left. 

“Why not?” Yeonjun asked. He was firmly rooted to his spot. As much as Taehyun looked like he wanted to be alone, Yeonjun just couldn’t cut him some slack. “Come on, Taehyun. Come home with me.” 

“I’m sick, hyung. I’ve been for a while now,” Taehyun said with a sad, sad. “You’ve noticed, right?” 

Yeonjun had noticed. He’d taken trips to the drug store to buy Taehyun some painkillers. He’d cooked him soup for comfort. He’d even insisted that they should go to the hospital and check it out, but Taehyun was dead set on riding out what they thought to be a run-of-the-mill flu. 

“I finally got it checked this morning. My sister brought me. No one could figure out a proper diagnosis, but right after our appointment—” Taehyun faltered. He met Yeonjun’s eyes. “The damn Death-cast call is so scripted, isn’t it?” 

Yeonjun slumped down onto the vacant seat next to Taehyun.

“Anyway, I told my family over lunch,” Taehyun went on. “I wasn’t planning on letting the boys know—I just wanted to have a nice dinner and call it a day—but you…” 

“How did you know before I told you? You looked like you already had a feeling.” 

“I’ve always been the smartest one,” Taehyun retorted. Yeonjun wouldn’t have contested him either way. 

Humoring Yeonjun, Taehyun folded his hands over his lap and smirked ever so slightly. “We both balked at Hueningkai saying that the pizza was ‘to die for’,” he said. “I don’t think you would have reacted that way were it any other day. For you to react to something as offhanded as that, you must be worried about dying.” 

“Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Yeonjun asked abruptly, the words tumbling over each other as his curiosity got the best of him. Taehyun winced in the slightest.

Taehyun didn’t owe Yeonjun an explanation, but Yeonjun couldn’t think straight. If he could, he would keep Taehyun by his side for the rest of their 24 hours. It was cruel to admit that Yeonjun didn’t want to be the one left living.

“I want to die alone,” Taehyun said decisively after a pause.

“Where no one I love will have to find me. My family thinks I’m with you. And you,” he looked straight at Yeonjun. “Will let the boys think that I’m with my family.” 

Yeonjun recoiled as if he’d been punched. “You want me to lie to them?” 

“Consider it my dying wish.”

“Taehyun!” 

“Yeonjun.” The missing honorific made them both falter a bit. Taehyun took the edge out of his tone for his next words.

“I won’t be in the middle of nowhere. There’s a wing at the Seoul National Hospital for people who have been called. They make the funeral preparations and when you— when you’re— they let your legal guardian know. My sister knows, so she’s ready to pick me up.” 

“I don’t want any of you to see me lose any more of my strength than I already have,” Taehyun went on steadily. “Let them remember the Taehyun who went to Lotte World with them. The Taehyun who tried his best not to spoil Squid Game. Let that be who I am. Not the Taeyun who’s coughing up blood.” For added effect, Taehyun reached out to clasp Yeonjun’s hands. He clung tightly, even as Yeonjun tried to pull away. “You’ll do that for me. Won’t you, hyung?” Taehyun pleaded, voice cracking. “You’ll let me have this.” 

“You are cruel, Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun responded through gritted teeth. “You are heartless and insensitive, and I will never forgive you.” 

In turn, Taehyun gave him a gentle smile. The bus was rolling up to the stop. There’s no one here for you, Yeonjun wanted to yell at the driver. You’re not going to take him from me.  

“There are letters on the bedside table,” he said. “I’ve left my phone at home, too, because when they start calling, I’ll want to answer— and it will take everything in me not to.”

Taehyun released his grip on Yeonjun. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll never be sorry enough.” 

“If you’re really sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving,” Yeonjun seethed. He knew that he sounded hopeless and whiny, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was hurting. 

Taehyun flinched at his words; Yeonjun didn’t take them back. He trusted that Taehyun knew the depth of his distress and why this was so difficult for him. 

It was a sorrow so deep that Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to hug Taehyun back as the latter mumbled his goodbyes. 

At his own death, Yeonjun will think of that moment. It will be his one regret. 

Taehyun boarded the night bus that would shuttle him to Seoul National Hospital. Contrary to Yeonjun’s belief, Taehyun was oblivious to Yeonjun’s pain of mourning someone who was still alive.

The younger boy sat with his heavy heart, wondering if he was making the smart— no, the right— choice. 

The bus pulled away from the stop and Taehyun glanced at Yeonjun through the window’s reflection. Slumped in defeat, his friend remained motionless before standing. Taehyun expected Yeonjun to head back to his dorm. 

But then Yeonjun hit the ground running. 

He darted down the sidewalk, following the bus’s route. Taehyun sat up. Palm against the window, he watched Yeonjun sprint past pedestrians and haphazardly slide down the pavement.

“That boy’s crazy,” the bus driver commented offhandedly. 

It was a scene straight out of a television drama, and it made Taehyun laugh in spite of himself. Thankfully, Yeonjun’s chase was cut short as the bus stopped at a red light. To Taehyun’s absolute horror, the older boy started banging his fists against the bus’s sliding doors.

“Hey, stop that!” the bus driver yelled. “I’ll call the police on you, you psycho!”

Yeonjun kept knocking, demanding entry. “I just need one minute! Please, just give me one minute!” 

“Get the fuck away from this bus right now, kid!” 

Unnerved, Yeonjun took a step back and did a quick scan of the bus until his eyes met Taehyun’s.

Without missing a beat, the older boy hollered loud enough that Taehyun could hear his sincerity through the glass: “I forgive you, Kang Taehyun! I forgive you!”

The stoplight turned green and the bus quickly pulled away from the intersection, leaving Yeonjun standing dejected on the street. As the bus driver cursed him and the other commuters whispered among themselves, Taehyun buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his face. 

He was stupidly relieved to finally be alone. Later, when they give him a room to pass away in, he will assure the attending nurse that he has made peace with his fate. But in the bus where there are nothing but strangers, where no one knows who Taehyun is, he allows himself the grace of fearing death. 

And for the first time in a long time— for the last time in his young life— Kang Taehyun let himself cry. 

As Yeonjun expected, the boys weren’t happy with the lie of Taehyun heading back home. 

They weren’t angry. None of them could seem to be mad at the dying boy.

Hueningkai was upset, constantly ringing Taehyun’s cell; Yeonjun itched to tell him that it was futile. Soobin buried his head in his hands, the forgotten episode of Squid Game playing on in the background.

“The last thing I said to him was that I hated him for watching without me,” Beomgyu said. His empty gaze was trained towards the television. “I’m never going to be able to take that back.” 

“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it,” Yeonjun said. He thought of his last image of Taehyun; hand to the window, jaw slack with shock. “This is what he wanted.”

Hueningkai collapsed onto the couch after his nth phone call went unanswered. No one could look at each other, so they quietly sat through the duration of the show’s episode.

The sounds of Soobin’s sniffles echoed in the small room, overlapping with Taehyun’s voicemail recording. 

Hello, this is Kang Taehyun. I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. 

“He left letters,” Yeonjun announced as Squid Game ’s credits rolled. “They’re in his room.” 

No one responded. It was as if Yeonjun hadn’t spoken at all. 

“I’m going to go read mine. You can come with me if you want.” 

Neither Beomgyu, Hueningkai, nor Soobin moved an inch. 

Standing so suddenly that he knocked into the coffee table, Yeonjun let out a hiss before glancing at his remaining friends. They refused to meet his eyes. He wished he could do something for them, but he was honestly just as broken and betrayed. 

“Suit yourself,” he said wretchedly, not meaning to have so much venom in his tone. He stalked into Taehyun’s room and made it a point to slam the door close behind him. 

It took Yeonjun a moment to realize that Taehyun had prepared for this. Most of the room was bare, save for a few cardboard boxes in one corner.

When Yeonjun took a peek, he realized that Taehyun had packed away everything; his camera, his posters, his clothes. All that was left was his mattress, where four envelopes were neatly laid out in a row. 

“You’re not actually going to read your letter.” 

Yeonjun didn’t jump at the sudden intrusion. Beomgyu wasn’t asking a question, either; he was stating a fact. 

“No, I’m not,” Yeonjun admitted, staring at the precise handwriting that lined the outside of the named letters. “Not yet.” 

“Okay. Well, I will.” 

To Yeonjun’s shock, Beomgyu stepped past him and snatched the paper that had his name. He ripped open the envelope and got to reading. Cautiously, Yeonjun watched Beomgyu. 

Slowly, Beomgyu’s shoulders dropped. When he bent his head, Yeonjun realized what was happening.

Beomgyu’s sobs were quiet— unassuming and wounded. The grief washed over the two of them like waves. Yeonjun did not know how to keep his head above the water.  

“He loved us, right?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, turning to face Yeonjun. “Even if he left. He loved us.” 

“He did.” 

“And he knows I never hated him. He had to have known that.” 

“He did.” 

With the back of his fist, Beomgyu forcefully wiped the tears out of his eyes. Yeonjun is struck by how young he looks; by how young they all are, to have to deal with all this. 

“I should have been nicer to him,” Beomgyu said. He glanced down at the letter before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then maybe... “ 

“It wouldn’t have changed his mind,” Yeonjun said quietly. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he simply repeated himself from earlier that night: “This is what he wanted.” 

Beomgyu didn’t point it out, anyway. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes, seemingly letting the worst of the news hit him. Yeonjun knew he ought to have done something then— maybe reached out and hugged the younger boy— but he was too lost in his own misery to realize that Beomgyu’s heartbreak ran deeper, if only because Taehyun’s affections for him were different. The letter gave away as much.

Like a switch that had been flipped, Beomgyu forced himself to speak in a lighter tone. “You’ve still got a few things on your bucket list, right? Why don’t we get them done?” 

“I hardly think that a date is appropriate right no—” 

“‘This is what he wanted,’” Beomgyu parroted, mimicking even Yeonjun’s intonation. “I’m sure Taehyun would hate to see you moping.” 

Yeonjun shook his head, too tired to argue. “I haven’t matched with anyone on the app. And besides, I can’t imagine going out with a stranger who will have no idea what I’m going through.” 

“Then go out with me.” 

The shocked silence that followed stretched between the two of them, filling every corner of the room.

Yeonjun was taken back to the compliment he paid Beomgyu earlier that night. I’ve always loved how shameless you can be. The thin line between brashness and bravery blurred at that moment as Yeonjun gawked at Beomgyu, who refused to falter. 

“I won’t ask why you seem sad or what your thoughts are on death,” Beomgyu insisted. “We’ll grab a coffee. Share a bingsu. And I’ll pretend not to know much about you so I can ask you what your blood type is, then I’ll lie that we’re compatible.” 

“That’s a thing?” Yeonjun asked dumbly. 

Beomgyu gave the older boy a watery smile. “Anything for a second date. But since we can only have one, I promise to cram in everything you’ve been missing out on. I’ll even fight for the bill.” 

“Why?” 

“Why would I fight for the bill?” 

“No, no. Why are you— Why are you doing this?” 

Beomgyu’s hesitation was fleeting. Yeonjun caught it nonetheless. If he had only been a little more observant, he might have noticed the blush tinging Beomgyu’s ear or the tremor in his twitching fingers. 

“Because it’s on your bucket list,” Beomgyu said. “Taehyun finished his. You should get to clear yours, too.” 

There was no way for Yeonjun to know if Beomgyu was lying. Taehyun had kept his bucket list mostly a secret, though he had assured Yeonjun at some point that it was ‘short and sweet’. It was likely that he had divulged in Beomgyu, and Yeonjun wasn’t in the business of doubting such a simple fact.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a little more to Beomgyu’s offer. Yeonjun reflected if the proposition would have still come up had their thrift shop conversation not happened.

But Beomgyu was never insincere, and Yeonjun wanted to give him a tender memory that only the two of them shared. 

And so Yeonjun said yes. When Beomgyu tried his hardest not to smile too widely, the older boy forced himself to quiet the fluttering in his chest.

This was not part of the plan. Vaguely, he felt like he was making a mistake. 

How could he be, though, he thought, as Beomgyu beamed and blabbered about where they should go? 

How could such a good thing be wrong? 

It happened like this.

The two agreed on a nearby breakfast cafe. Yeonjun had avoided counting down, but it was difficult to miss the fact that the sun had already risen. That meant he had only a few more hours before his 24 were up.

Yeonjun got to the cafe first because Beomgyu said he’d stop by somewhere with Hueningkai. Soobin was initially reluctant, finally letting them go and succumbing to the fact that he was emotionally spent. When Yeonjun left Taehyun’s dorm, Soobin was napping on the couch.

Yeonjun made it a point to tuck a blanket around him.

Bored out of his mind, Yeonjun was carving Taehyun’s initials into the wooden table when it happened. 

And it happened so fast. 

He heard Beomgyu calling his name. He looked up to see the younger boy holding a bouquet of tulips.

There was a sweet smile on his face and a spring in his step as he locked eyes with Yeonjun and skipped down the pedestrian lane. It touched Yeonjun, that Beomgyu had gone out of his way to buy him blue and purple tulips; his favorite flowers in his favorite color.

A grin was tugging at Yeonjun’s lips when the speeding car slammed mercilessly into Beomgyu’s frame.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. Yeonjun had always wanted to know what his highlight reel would look like. He had never thought that you could imagine someone else’s life while they were dying.

Vision blurring with panic as he rushed to Beomgyu’s side, Yeonjun found himself flooded with flashbulb moments of Beomgyu. 

The first time he’d lost a game to him. Their arguments over mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu coining the term ‘hiccup’ for the trip-ups on Yeonjun’s Good Days, after Hueningkai had accidentally cleaned out his hard drive while downloading anime. 

This was the worst hiccup that could possibly happen, Yeonjun thought as he dropped to his knees.

Beomgyu looked dazed, lying motionless on the pavement. As Yeonjun scooped him up, the younger boy looked up at him with a bleary expression, seeming more confused than hurt.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked. “I think I got hit.” 

“Hey,” Yeonjun responded, trying his best not to sound too hysterical lest he scare Beomgyu. “You’re fine, though. You’re fine.” 

The driver of the car stepped out of his vehicle, looking horrified. One side of Yeonjun filled with a searing, murderous rage. He was about to stand and swing at the stranger until Beomgyu started coughing vigorously. 

“Call a hospital! Now!” Yeonjun bellowed at the driver. His voice cracked with desperation. “He’s not supposed to die today. He’s not supposed to die!”

“Hyung—” Beomgyu tried to say, failing to finish his sentence as he spat up more blood. 

Cradling Beomgyu’s head in his lap, Yeonjun clung onto his friend tightly. “I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Beomgyu was mumbling something incoherent. Yeonjun leaned in closer, catching Beomgyu’s repeating words: “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, idiot?” Yeonjun whimpered. “You can’t die. You’re not going to die. You haven’t been called yet, Beomgyu.”

It’s in that earth-shattering moment— as Beomgyu wasted his breath apologizing, struggling to keep his eyes open but trying his best to look straight at Yeonjun anyway— it’s then that it dawned on Yeonjun.

Beomgyu had known about Lotte World and Death-cast. Beomgyu had tried his best to squeeze into all of Taehyun and Yeonjun’s photos. And Beomgyu at the restaurant fronting had echoed the script Yeonjun heard in the studio’s locker room.

Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully? 

“You haven’t been called yet,” Yeonjun repeated. He knew he was in denial at this point, but this was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. “Come on. Tell me you haven’t been called.”

Instead of doing as he was asked, Beomgyu reached out to hold Yeonjun’s face.

The slightest movement seemed to take so much of his remaining energy, yet he persisted despite Yeonjun’s protests. Delicately, Beomgyu cupped Yeonjun’s cheek with one of his hands. 

“I didn’t want anyone worrying over me,” he admitted softly. It broke Yeonjun, how uncharacteristically frail Beomgyu sounded. “I thought death would be a little easier on me.”

Yeonjun wailed, doubling over to bury his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder. The sharp smell of smoke and blood hit him hard. “Damn you, Beomgyu. We wasted all your time doing things that Taehyun wanted— that I wanted—”

Beomgyu laughed and winced immediately right after. 

“All I ever wanted to do was to be with you four,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun started crying so hard that he was sure this would be the cause of his own death— the way the sobs wracked his frame, the pure fear that struck his heart.

Beomgyu’s voice was barely above a whisper as he went on. “I’m sorry you never got to go on your date, hyung,” he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the bouquet he had been carrying.

Save for a petal or two, the tulips had miraculously survived the impact. Red spots stained the kraft wrapping paper. “I like to think I would have been a good one,” Beomgyu breathed.  

“You would have been the best,” Yeonjun said fiercely. Beomgyu smiled contentedly.

“I know you’re just saying that, but I’ll take it,” he responded. His eyes fluttered to a close and the pained expression on his face softened. For a heartbeat, Yeonjun was scared that he’d lost him.

Thankfully, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, his unfocused gaze trying to find Yeonjun’s own.

“Hey, don’t give up on me now,” Yeonjun begged. He closed his fingers around Beomgyu’s shoulder, pulling the younger boy closer to his chest.

They could both hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “We’ve still got a lot to do. Hyuka and Soobin are still waiting for you.” 

“Hyuka and Soobin…” Beomgyu repeated slowly. “Tell them I love them, won’t you?” 

“Tell them yourself.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t buy them more clothes.”

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” 

“And I’m sorry to be leaving you, hyung.” 

Yeonjun let out a broken sob. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t,” he said. “Stop apologizing, because we’re going to get you to a hospital and patch you up, and we’re going to go on the best date, and you’re going to live many happy years—” 

“Do you want to hear something selfish?” Beomgyu interrupted. The ambulance was rounding the corner. “This whole time, I prayed to go before you.” 

“Why?” Yeonjun asked wretchedly.

The ambulance parked and the driver ran to meet them. “I can’t imagine a world without you, Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said with bated breath. Yeonjun wondered why he’d never noticed it before; the devotion in Beomgyu’s tone, the star-like shine in his eyes. “And I’m glad that I won’t have to.”

As the paramedics rolled out a stretcher— as Yeonjun kept insisting that he could still be saved— Beomgyu thought nothing of the blinding hurt ripping through his body. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in the fact that he was in the arms of someone he loved. Not everyone could say they were half as lucky, he decided. 

Throughout the night, he was curious what his last words would be; if he would have a choice at all. He had wanted it to be something cool, something awesome. But as he clung to Yeonjun, he knew that there was only one last thing to say.

Grinning, he wiped away some tears from Yeonjun’s panicked expression. 

The paramedics were already swooping in and grabbing his ruptured body away from Yeonjun, but the older boy was still hanging on to him as if his own life depended on it. Beomgyu tried to commit the scene to memory.

Yeonjun, with his wild expression and tousled hair; his lips quivering, his eyes full of fear. It pained Beomgyu to leave him like this. Greedily, it relieved him that he would be the one going first. 

“Take all the time you need,” Beomgyu assured, giving Yeonjun’s hand a final squeeze. 

Beomgyu managed the ghost of a smile. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” he said. 

Then he shut his eyes— and nothing much was left after that. 

It turned out that Choi Beomgyu did get to choose his last words after all.

 Yeonjun was the one who made the calls. He let Beomgyu’s parents know, then his brothers.

He called Soobin, who didn’t answer; he called Hueningkai, who picked up on the first ring. 

Hueningkai and Soobin made it to the hospital within ten minutes of the call ending. 

Disoriented, they all listened to a doctor rattle on about comas and chances. “This means he’ll get better, right?” Hueningkai asked no one in particular once the discussion was over. “He hasn’t been called, so he’ll wake up soon enough.” 

The two older boys shared a look. Yeonjun shook his head, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut. Hueningkai watched the brief interaction unfold, stumped by what he was missing out on.

“Beomgyu didn’t get called by Death-cast,” Hueningkai repeated louder, as if his first statement was simply too quiet to be true. “He’s going to wake up from his coma.”

At a loss for words, Yeonjun reached out to hug Hueningkai. Soobin followed in suit. The youngest tried to squirm of their grip, not wanting to accept the implications of their remorse. “Let go of me. Don’t act like— don’t make me think that he— you’re both being—”

Eventually, Hueningkai stopped fighting.

For a moment, he stayed completely still as Soobin and Yeonjun held on to him. The trio stood there in the middle of the hospital hallway, huddled together while bawling over a betrayal that only they could share.

For Yeonjun, it felt like the world was closing in on him. He was spared by the harsh comfort of Hueningkai and Soobin feeling the same emptying loss.

After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches so they could regain some strength.

“Did you know?” Soobin asked, voice hollow. 

Yeonjun shook his head. His throat felt raw from all the crying. He couldn’t imagine speaking without wavering. 

Instead, he turned to Hueningkai, who was staring at a photograph. It was his latest Instagram post from an hour or so ago— a shot of the flower shop he and Beomgyu had visited. The bouquet Beomgyu had bought lay a few seats away from the trio. 

“You should make a post here, too,” Yeonjun said suddenly. Hueningkai looked up at him skeptically. He had a right to be dubious; updating one’s Instagram didn’t seem like it ought to be a priority.

But Yeonjun wanted to honor Beomgyu somehow, wanted to immortalize him somewhere. 

“You have to remember,” Yeonjun insisted. “Even the bad things.” 

The rest of the sentence lingered between the two of them. Because soon enough, I won’t be around to remember any of it. 

“Even the bad things,” Hueningkai repeated.

He took a picture of the hallway. As he typed a caption with shaky fingers, Yeonjun rested his head on his shoulder, and Soobin held Yeonjun’s hand.

They drew from each other what little strength they could share. 

They had no other choice. 

Heading back to Taehyun’s dorm was too painful, so they made for Soobin and Yeonjun’s apartment.

They tried to fall into some sense of normalcy by playing a round of a computer game and putting on some bad Netflix film, but it was difficult to will away their loss and pretend that they weren’t waiting to lose a little bit more.

So they talked about Taehyun until there were no more stories to share.

They shared their favorite memories of Beomgyu, laughing so hard at some of the anecdotes that by the end of it, Yeonjun’s sides were in stitches.

They took photos for Hueningkai’s Instagram. They gave Yeonjun time to write his ‘will’. 

Hueningkai asked him if he was scared of dying.

Yeonjun lied and said he wasn’t. 

Soobin asked if he was lying.

Yeonjun let his silence speak for him.

At one point, Yeonjun glanced at the clock, did the math, and realized he had survived 22 hours. Was it possible to cheat Death-cast? Yeonjun wondered, foolishly amused. 

He didn’t have the energy to dwell on the thought. He didn’t have any energy at all, really.

He was so drained that he didn’t even remember dozing off while snuggling with Soobin. He jolted only at the sound of Hueningkai’s loud snore.

The couch was cramped, so Yeonjun dragged himself to his bed. Half-awake, he typed out a text to his parents that meant to let them know that he was okay and that he’d call them after he napped. He was too tired to even know if he hit send. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell right back to sleep. 

He was dreaming of tulips and brown-eyed boys when the cardiac arrest happened.

Choi Yeonjun could not cheat death after all. 

Hueningkai found it nearly impossible to live in the aftermath.

It was made particularly difficult by how much the city reminded him of the past. Like how the dance studio had renamed to YJ Entertainment, honoring their star student by using the script on his final note as their logo. Like how the breakfast cafe never threw out the table with Taehyun's carved initials. Hueningkai once sat at it, only to be dragged under at the sight of KT etched into one corner. 

Soobin was an immense pillar of support. The two remaining boys clung to each other in the first few years, doing everything they could to work around their complex emotions.

Eventually, they realized that the grief would never really go away. All they could do was grow around it. 

Their frequent meetings trickled down to weekly occurrences until they decided to stick to first Fridays— it lasted a few months, but it brought the both of them too much pain. They decided not to force it. They went their separate ways and learned how to live with the mourning.

And they did, really. Hueningkai kept up with Soobin through social media. They never lost touch. They just took some time to heal separately.

It had been a while since they last saw each other. Their last conversation was about how Yeonjun's dance break trended, and how Hueningkai's father was encouraging them to copyright the song. 

The posthumous success that Taehyun joked about, Soobin had said laughingly. Hueningkai found some comfort in the fact that he was not the only one left remembering. 

He never went back to the restaurant they last ate at, though it was hard for him to miss out on the snowball Beomgyu and Yeonjun had unintentionally started.

Unbeknownst to Hueningkai, the two had left a doodle that night; he would only see it spreading on social media a few months later, after the restaurant recognized a tradition that was happening to its patrons. 

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?" 

Hueningkai nodded, staring at the scrawled last words scaling up the restaurant wall. Soobin stood at his side, the two having agreed to meet-up for lunch.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun's little act of vandalism inspired a chain reaction of some sort. Now, those who were called by Death-cast could visit the restaurant for their final meal and, on their way out, leave a small part of themselves behind on the storefront.

"I think Beomgyu would be happy to see this," Hueningkai chuckled. "He'd be excited to be so famous." 

"Yeah, he really would."

The two made their way into the restaurant, making small talk and catching each other up as they waited for the waitress to stop by their booth. When she finally stopped by, Soobin looked up directly at Hueningkai as he spoke.

"I heard the food here is to die for," Soobin said casually. 

Hueningkai stared back, momentarily thrown off. 

And then he smiled— finding peace in the fact that he and Soobin could share one last thing. 

hueningkai's instagram account: @hyukatheloser.

[chikai-k]

We Need A Break.

•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh

•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)

•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?

Here we go.

It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.

She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.

You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.

How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.

She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.

"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.

Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.

"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"

"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...

"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.

Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.

Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?

"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.

"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.

He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...

[daemon-is-perfectly-unhinged]

HTTYD List of Dragons that I’ve compiled including some of the most important, the freakiest, and generally ones I loved the most. And plenty of them that I believe Rhaegar would geek out about in a Viserys-Lego-Years-Long style.

@syndrossi I hope you enjoy the read.

I figured to start out with the main dragons we meet in the first film as well as the ones we follow the most in the series since the main characters are their riders. These are the ones that have the most personality as well since we spend so much time with them, but almost always see personality in every dragon we meet in the show. The fun thing about these dragons is that not one of them have a whole ‘monster’ vibe ‘we gotta kill it’ no, there’s a reason why they act this way, sometimes they’re hungry, they’re searching for something, it’s about survival, but overall, the majority on this list are intelligent but wild animals. Some can be trainable, some can’t be, and that’s fine.

Dragons in this universe have a type of Class. I’ve never delved fully into it but from my recent research I’ve seen:

Stoker Class - mainly fire types, although a majority of all dragons have fire-breathing these are the main direct fire ones that rely on it the most.

Boulder Class - heavy, tough scales, mainly shoot lava type fire and eat rocks.

Sharp Class - contain some sharp anatomy body-types or sharp extremities, like spikes or horns.

Strike Class - very fast, very agile, amazing accuracy.

Tidal Class - water dwellers

Tracker Class - a new class in the show, it can be given to other dragons from other classes, it’s in the name, they’re able to track almost anything from miles away.

Fear Class - stealth, sneaky, terrifying.

Mystery Class - generally where dragons are placed when there isn’t much known about them or they’re very rare. It isn’t unusual for dragons to show up in Mystery Class only to be placed in a Class they fit in better after getting to learn their abilities and traits.

Now, onto the dragons! Dragons in this universe are ‘trainable’ in the sense that with enough time and trust, a dragon can technically be bonded to any human. This does not apply to all dragons of course and not to all humans, as a human needs to be as open as the dragon to form a bond. A rider is also not limited to their dragon and vice-versa. While they don’t typically switch around, there have been moments when main characters ride other dragons momentarily or their dragons are ridden by other people (again, rarely.)

Their diet is also mainly fish-related and raw. Although it depends on the dragon, some prefer chicken or goats, even fruits. And as we know, Boulder class enjoy rocks.

Night Fury

The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. The only one we ever really meet is Toothless. He is the fastest of the other dragons, a Strike Class and his flame is typically referred to as Plasma Blasts. Quick and powerful projectiles that land heavy damage to their enemies. Night Furies also tend to dive-bomb in a fight, using speed as their weapon and they have echolocation! They have retractable teeth and amazing accuracy, Hiccup himself says that Toothless “never misses”. They also have great acute senses, in the first movie, Toothless was able to hear his rider screaming all the way across the village in a hidden cove. This also showed how loyal Night Furies are as Toothless clawed his way out of that cove to get to Hiccup (something he tried before but couldn’t achieve before their bond was formed). They’re also intelligent creatures, when Hiccup spares his life upon their first meeting and decides to let him go, Toothless could have just killed him but recognizing mercy, let him go as well.

Deadly Nadder

Nadders are very beautiful and they know this. They enjoy pruning and keeping themselves clean. Nadders are in the Tracker Class (used to belong to the Sharp Class). They have folded spikes on their tails that they can extend and shoot like projectiles at enemies. Nadders are similar to birds or chickens in their walking stance, they have a blind spot right below their jaw but be careful! They have excellent hearing. They enjoy hunting in packs. Nadders are also very loyal to their riders, putting themselves in harms way to keep them safe.

Gronkle

A Boulder Class dragon, Gronkles love to eat rocks and shoot molten lava (and lava rocks) as their main fire power. They have thick heavy scales and a tail made for offense. They’re not the fastest with their small wings and they prefer to be on the ground (thats where you find rocks!) In the show, our main Gronkle, Meatlug, was fed a particular combination of rocks that led to her molten lava coming out and forming a type of light but incredibly tough metal. (Think of it as their version of Valyrian steel.) Sociable and like packs.

Monstrous Nightmare

These can be a bit of a show off, they like to think they’re the toughest of the tough in their Stoker Class. Perhaps that’s because they can light themselves on fire! Yep, Nightmares’ scales produce this flammable gel that they can activate to light on command. Hookfang, our resident Nightmare, doesn’t get to do it as often because it would burn his rider.

But since Jon and Rhaegar don't burn it wouldn't be much of a problem, although I doubt they'd like going into battle naked. OTOH, Daemon next to a flaming Caraxes is a new-level of terrifying.

Hideous Zippelback

Our only main Mystery Class dragon, oh! And did I mention he has TWO heads? Meet Barf and Belch, one head (on the left) breathes a green awful gas while the other has a sparking-type flame that sets the gas ablaze. After a while, dragons tend to mimic their riders personalities more often than usual, so when their riders, a pair of twins called Ruffnut and Tuffnut, start bickering or fighting, it’s not long before Barf and Belch start literally butting heads with each other.

Zippelbacks are also notoriously loyal to those that help or save them. When Hiccup and Toothless save them from a rock avalanche, the dragon sticks to the pair, in debt to them until it was repaid.

I particularly love how each head has a specific function and it isn't just random or basic like fire and ice (IYKYK). They're part of a cohesive system and work together, they need each other.

all these previous dragons mentioned are easily trainable and sociable with both dragons and humans after the effort is put in.

bonus: Hiccup reading the Book of Dragons for the first time, we see a bunch of different dragons here for the first time! This is where we get to see the different types of dragons as well, and we do eventually meet all of them throughout the large franchise.

Time for more dragons! The following are dragons we get to see in the show, a few more recurring than most. The show does have a usual dragon-of-the-week format but not always. And it always depends on the situation but regardless we always add more to the dragon lore.

Whispering Death:

Boulder Class dragon that prefers to be underneath the earth than flying above it, uses its thousands of teeth to drill into the very earth.

Very lamprey-esque that still fills me with nightmares.

Have poor eyesight and a terrifying roar.

Hold grudges against dragons and humans.

Not the best fliers as they prefer to be on land.

They don't often travel in packs but they can, although it isn't brought up much.

not trainable.

Screaming Death

He’s just a lil guy.

An albino giant Whispering Death called the Screaming Death in the show. It's said that a Screaming Death only comes to be every one hundred years. This one is a recurring obstacle in season 2 for the gang of dragon riders.

The Screaming Death we meet is a thousand times more ferocious than any previous Whispering Deaths’s we’ve seen before. He’s also barely a year old.

More than that, he was taken from his mother which is the cause of most of his behavior until he reunites with her in a season finale where he had been an ongoing obstacle for the the mains.

untrainable— DON'T EVEN TRY IT

Boneknapper

What a name.

A Mystery Class dragon that, because of its weak scales, uses the bones of dead dragons to protect itself.

Very stubborn, it will go far and wide for years on end to find the perfect fit for his armor, even risking its life in the process.

Has a deafening roar that can send Vikings ten feet away from him. He's incredibly stealthy and able to sneak up on anyone.

We meet this dragon in a special short film.

trainable after some effort and offering something he wants.

The Scauldron

A Tidal Class dragon, meaning he's a water dweller.

The Scauldron shoots boiling hot water at its enemies.

Typical loners, and like most water dwellers they can't go long when stuck on land.

That’s how we meet Scauldy, a Scauldron that is stuck on land and the riders wish to rescue. He forms a bond with Ruffnut thanks to her fish-scented hair.

trainable, but rare and under the right circumstances.

Timberjack

A Sharp Class dragon that we actually don't get to meet in the main series but rather the sequel series set in the future (it's eh)

Timberjacks have sharp wings that can cut through entire forests (and enemies).

They closely resemble Monstrous Nightmares in a way.

Loyal to their riders regardless of anything, these aren't dragons to mess with.

Trainable

Usually solitary.

Extra extra: EVEN MORE dragons for Rhaegar to go crazy over.

Terrible Terror

So, in the books, Toothless was just a small common Garden dragon that got his name from the fact that his teeth just hadn't come in (and then when he got one, he lost it in a fight to an adult dragon).

When the writers began planning for the movies, they knew they wanted Hiccup to have a dragon big enough to ride, thus the size and species changed.

And so the Terrible Terror was born as an homage to the original Toothless.

Terrors are the size of a large cat or an iguana, they purr like cats and are part of the Stoker Class, so they are fire breathers.

But what they lack in size they make up for by attacking in large packs.

Terrors ended up being something of a comic relief from time to time. Although Hiccup did begin to train them to deliver messages, inventing 'Terror Mail'.

trainable

Thunderdrum

One of the few Tidal Class dragons able to breath fire although they don't use it often, their main method of attack is actually a strong concussive sound that can kill a human in close range.

They can dwell easily on either land or water, and they can expel the oxygen from their body to flaten their bodies to be able to glide across the surface and easily catch their prey.

They can be reclusive but enjoy travelling in pods.

Thunderdrums are also hard of hearing, making them the only dragons known to be immune to the Deathsong dragon.

trainable but they are stubborn and a challenge.

Changewing

This Mystery Class dragon is able to camaflouge using its chamaleon-like scales to blend into their surroundings.

Instead of fire, they shoot hot, corrosive acid that burn rocks and wood (as well as humans). They're also incredibly fast and stealthy.

One alone is a threat but can be taken down, thus why they hunt in packs. But they're large enough to defend themselves too.

Their packs also follow a typical lion pride style, as their females are the hunters.

Aggressive to humans and other dragons, they're also not opposed to eat both.

not trainable

Night Terrors

Not exactly cousins to Terrible Terrors although they do receive their name from them.

These nocturnal Stoker Class bat-like dragons opperate best as a team.

They unite in masses to form a large shape as their main defense to scare off predators, typically following their Alpha (a slightly larger sized and white scaled Night Terror.)

We meet them in the beginning of Race to the Edge, the riders claim an empty island of their own and come across these little guys. By taking away the leader, the rest scramble and run, not able to function together as a group. They get along well and name the Alpha Night Terror, Smidvarg.

Since it's their island too, they come to an agreement and the Night Terrors act as sentries or sentinels for the island.

trainable.

Armorwing

Not unlike the Boneknapper, this Mystery Class dragon uses metals to protect their scaleless bodies.

Their bodies are also somewhat magnetic, any metal coming into direct contact stays there until they can properly forge it.

Speaking of forging, when they do melt metal onto their body, their fire is unsually bright and one of the hottest seen.

I wouldn't be surprised if they were to be reclassified as a Stoker Class, even their shape is very Monstrous Nightmare-like.

Some actually have a preference for specific metals. It could range from iron, bronze, silver, or even gold.

Smothering Smokebreath

They get their name from the fact that they can't breathe fire but rather exhale extreme thick plumes of black smoke.

These guys are not inherintly aggressive at all, they actually prefer to avoid fights.

They're always in packs due to their small size, only slightly bigger than Night Terrors. Together, their joint smoke breath appears like a natural fog bank, keeping them hidden and safe from predators.

Their reputation has been quite supernatural for years, thanks to their smoke, no one has ever gotten a good look at what they look like, making them larger than life and spreading scary tales.

They're also little thieves that like shiny things, typically stealing anything metal to keep in their caves.

not trainable, they don't like to leave their home, although i wouldn't 100% rule it out.

Speed Stinger

Okay, I know, they look like velociraptors from Jurassic Park, bear with me.

For decades they were believed to be a rumor or legend.

The ultimate of the Strike Class, they don't have wings but are the fastest dragons on land that you'll ever meet. And I hope you never do.

They're scavengers and hunters, always in packs and never alone, using their poison tipped tails to paralyze any victims they claim.

Incredible aggressive and not an easily susceptible threat.

They typically get to places by running across glaciers and frozen bodies of water, but over time other packs have evolved and even developed webbing to be able to run across water.

They aren't trainable but it's not impossible, the riders once found an injured adolescent Stinger, nursed him back to health and managed to train him for months before sending him back to his pack.

This was a specific circumstances case, so I would still call them untrainable.

Deathsong

The Deathsong is one of new dragons we get to meet and name along the way.

Very beautiful on the outside, resembling a butterfly to attract prey from afar but that's not all it can do. Coming from its name, the Deathsong's most potent form of attack is its siren song.

Able to attract and disoritent humans and dragons alike.

Once prey has arrived, the Deathsong is able to shoot out an orange hot type of lava at its victims that hardens instantly like amber.

This way it keeps its victims on standby before consuming them, dragon and human alike.

Aggressive and solitary.

Not trainable as an adult, but we did see the riders train one since he was a hatchling, forming a bond that lasted even years after being in the wild.

Foreverwing

The only dragon we don't get to see in the movies or the shows but I included him since he was just so interesting.

He's one of the Titan dragons due to his colossal size and has thick foliage and trees that grow on his back.

Foreverwings sleep for a long time, typically on mountains so their backs grow larger and denser, becoming homes for all matter of creatures, dragons and animals alike, able to live in peace and harmony amongst each other.

It also spews copious amounts of lava able to take down entire villages.

More dragons:

Dramillion - this dragon is capable of mimicing fire blasts of other dragons

Snow Wraith - a cold dwelling dragon, entirely white with red eyes, solitary and impossible to find

Catastrophic Quaken - her mouth opens in a split way that makes it terrifying. also can curl into itself like an armadillo and smashing themself against enemies or large rocks

Typhoomerang - A new species of dragon that the gang encounters. Their first dragon that isn't in the Book of Dragons actually, so they get to name the species and spend time with a hatchling for a while. These Dragons leave scorch marks on the ground not unlike a typhoon sigil and tend to come back down the same way, like a boomerang.

And there are so, so, so many more.

[bunnybeandraws]

You know, I've realized that part of the reason I get so much writing inspiration from @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington comics is because the way it writes the characters just... Scratches my brain in a way I really like. :3

It's the smell of freshly cooked eggs that wakes Leon that morning, and he rolls out of his bed (which was little more than an air mattress set up on the floor with a few spare blankets thrown on top) with a groan.

He'd have a quick shot to wake up the rest of the way, but he's sure Ethan would disapprove, especially this early in the morning before he's even had breakfast…

Oh, right… It'd probably be a good idea to check up on that, see how Ethan's doing.

Walking into the small kitchen of the even smaller apartment, the thing that surprises Leon most aren't the dark circles under Ethan's eyes from lack of sleep, or the way he just stares blankly at the eggs sizzling away on the pan. No, it's something else…

"Are you… Cooking breakfast with a blanket on?"

"It's cold." Ethan snaps, shooting Leon a quick glare from the corner of his eye that's definitely less intimidating than intended simply due to his softer face. "You got a problem?"

"No no. Just might be a fire hazard is all." Leon says, propping his hand on his hip as he gestures with his other hand to the thermostat on the wall.

"Thermostat also says it's, like, 75 degrees. And that's enough to make me wanna change into shorts."

Leon hears a soft click from the stove, indicating that Ethan's turned the heat off so as to not burn the eggs, and he can't help but wonder if his tiredness comes from baby things, or nightmares.

Both are plausible.

"Do you get cold easily?" Leon asks, unable to stop the question from slipping past his tongue. Not that Ethan holds it against him as he extends his hand to Leon, the one a Lycan had taken a chunk out of.

"I guess ever since Dulvey I've run a bit colder…" He murmurs, and as Leon takes his hand, 'a bit' might've been an understatement. Ethan's skin is freezing, like he's been sat in front of the AC or out in the cold for hours on end.

"I think it's because I died back there, and I-" Ethan pauses as he pulls his hand away from Leon, his eyes very quickly growing glassy. "And I'm technically a corpse. Haha, hah…"

Despite the soft smile and the forced laughter, Ethan swiftly devolves into sobs and hiccups, hands covering his face like he's disgusted by his own appearance, desperately begging Leon not to look at him.

Leon, for a moment at least, just kind of stands there, unsure of what to do. He's never been the comforting type, especially not in recent years, so all he can really do is watch Ethan break down, the blanket falling from his shoulders as he shakes.

Almost hesitantly, he reaches out to awkwardly pat his shoulder, glancing away until he's suddenly pulled into a desperate hug, Ethan burying his face in his shoulder.

'He's freezing!' Leon thinks to himself as he returns the embrace, one hand cradling the back of Ethan's head for support and the other simply resting on his back. 'Maybe I should hold him for just a bit longer… To warm him up…'

…Breakfast can wait, Leon decides… Ethan needs him more, and he won't let go until even the softest of hiccups has faded from his tongue.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary﹕you experience a shameful hangover after you night out at the baratie, then go get breakfast with your new friends. how could anything bad happen at breakfast?

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.1k

┈ ✧.* chapter ii﹕drunken memories

Your first night at the university was a rough one.

Upon waking up in your bed—and thankfully not the street—you immediately felt sick. You threw your blankets off and looked around the room, standing up to see Vivi and Nami still lying in bed, the latter looking rather worse for wear, tossing and turning with her blankets.

You threw open the door to the bathroom and sprinted inside, leaping across to hunch over the toilet to puke your guts up. Your stomach was never the strongest, and unfortunately neither was your alcohol tolerance. Speaking of, how much did you drink? You only got a small glass of wine to fit in with the Italian vibe, and you hadn’t even drank half of it! But—oh, that’s right, Nami was there. 

A memory—or rather, memories— came flooding back in an instant, all of Nami ordering small little fruity drinks. She insisted you tried all of them, ‘just a sip!’ she said. Well, all those little sips clearly did a number on you.

“Damn you, Nami…” you grumbled, stumbling back to bed.

After exiting the bathroom, you picked up your phone from your desk, noticing it had been charging. Did someone do that for you as well? It would have struck you as kind if you hadn’t been hungover. All you could think about was your pounding headache and upset stomach.

Before inputting your password, you noticed you had a text from one ‘Mr. Prince,’ a name and number you hadn’t recognized. 

| Mr. Prince: Hello Sleeping Beauty!! &lt;;333 | Mr. Prince: I hope you slept alright, you got were pretty smashed after Baratie  | Mr. Prince: but not in a bad way!! in a super cute tipsy kind of way!!!! | Mr. Prince: Also it’s Sanji!! I put my number in your phone so you wouldn’t be confused or anything!! | Mr. Prince: Luffy saw and also put his, and then Usopp wanted to put his, and then Zoro decided to put his…… | Mr. Prince: Anyways, just text me when you wake up Sleeping Beauty, just want to know that you’re safe!! <333 ^3^

Were you really the drunk one in this situation? You were pretty sure you hadn’t even spoken to him, only remembering his flirty attitude and writing him off as a playboy. But if the name in your phone was anything to go by, he seemed more like a Prince Charming-esque character. 

| You: i’m ok | You: thanks :)

You hoped the smiley face would help you sound like less of a prick. It was hard to be friendly after years with no friends, and you were doing your best to adjust to the sudden change. 

Before returning to bed you chugged a glass of water for your nausea and headache, praying the pain would go away after your short nap. Nami and Vivi would probably be awake by then too, giving you an even better reason to take this nap. And maybe your dreams would be more pleasant than your current state of consciousness. Nausea doesn’t follow you into sleep, right? Right?

“‘m not drunk…” you mumbled, staggering out of the restaurant with your new friends in tow. 

“Come on, ____!” Luffy begged, trying to drag you down the sidewalk. “It’s time to go home!”

“No use arguing with a drunk, Luffy,” A voice chimed in, slowly getting closer to your location.

“This isn’t home~” you hiccuped, “‘is college!”

“Alright, let’s go…” the voice spoke, leaning down near you. “Arms around me, darling.”

You felt yourself being hoisted up, and despite your drunken flailing, your front fell firm against a solid back.

‘Smells good…’ you thought, laying your head on the warm structure before you.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” the voice whispered to you. “Just keep everything inside and we’ll have a wonderful conclusion to this wonderful night.”

“Yer’ warm…” you mumbled, snuggling your head into their neck. 

For a moment you were able to focus, seeing the bright lights of downtown flicker all around the streets, as well as the blonde head of hair directly in front of you. It looked soft, like that Chinese cotton candy stuff you’d heard about. What was the name again? Would his hair taste like it? No, better not to try now…wait for later, when he’s not looking.

He? Oh, that’s right, Sanji’s blond. Or did he have red hair? You were having a difficult time remembering. But you did know he was a flirt, and not a good one. It wasn’t gonna work on you, even if his hair smelled delicious…

Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, and their constant thrum slowly lulled you into sleep, head still resting on Sanji’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, that happened,” you mumbled drowsily, half asleep.

The conclusion of your dream-memory had roused you awake, your muscles slightly achy after only an hour of sleep. You really were that drunk, and not the ‘cute tipsy kind’ like Sanji said. But college was supposed to be a learning experience, and last night you learned the valuable lesson of watching your liquor.

You hoped Sanji didn’t take your drunken rambles the wrong way. But you didn’t voice all of your thoughts, just that he was warm! He didn’t know that you thought he smelt good. Unless your sniffing was really loud…

Oh God, what if you were sniffing him really loudly? At that point he probably just thought you were weird. But he called you a cute drunk, right? That meant something! But then again, you hardly knew him. And yet you had his number!

Your obsessive pondering was interrupted by another text, and from Sanji no less. Was he going to confront you? He seemed so pleasant in his last texts, what more does he have to say?

'Just stay calm, stay cool, and stay casual,’ you breathed, ‘if you pretend like you don’t know, maybe he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know!’

| Mr. Prince: HI | Mr. Prince: GOOD MORNING | Mr. Prince: WANT 2 GET BRAKFAST?

‘What the fuck?’ you thought, quickly typing a response.

| You: breakfast? | You: also why are you typing in caps lol | Mr. Prince: IT LUFFY STOL SANJI PHONE RUNNING

‘Well that explains it,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

| You: didn’t you also put your number in my phone?

A moment passed without a text back, leaving you anxious for Luffy’s safety. Sanji wouldn’t hurt him too bad, would he? You soon got your answer through another text.

| Straw Hat: Hi this is my phone want to get brakfast? | You: lol brakfast? | Straw Hat: Ya you want? | Straw Hat: Zoro and Sanji and Usopp and Chopper too | You: chopper? | Straw Hat: New friend!!  | You: nice, can vivi and nami come? | Straw Hat: Ya!!!!!!!!!!!! | You: will be there soon! | Straw Hat: Attachment (1) Image

The picture in question was of Luffy holding a much smaller, cheerful boy who looked to be about 13, but if Luffy just met him, he had to be a college student. Unless Luffy kidnapped a local child, which you wouldn’t put past him. Luffy looked worse for wear despite his classic grin, having a large bump on his head and a very angry Sanji behind him, mid scream.

You giggled at the image and got out of bed, preparing to wake Nami and Vivi up. But after standing up, you noticed that both of them were gone. Did they leave without you? How long were you asleep for? It was just a small nap, you woke up in the middle of the night, after all. They probably thought you were weird after that night out, saw you still asleep and snuck out without alerting you—

“Good morning, ____!” Vivi’s voice called out as the door swung open.

You jumped backwards at the sudden intrusion, subsequently tripping over your feet and falling flat on your butt.

“Oh my gosh,” Vivi rushed over to you, “I’m so sorry, I thought you’d still be in bed! If I had known I would have—”

“What’s done is done, Vi,” Nami stepped into the room, “one apology is more than enough…”

You glanced up at Nami, noticing her familiarly sour expression.

“Hungover?” you asked.

“Hungover,” she sighed, fumbling over to her closet to change.

“I made some tea for Nami to help her,” Vivi offered, picking up the small pot of hot tea. “If you would like a cup, I can pour you a cup!”

“Thanks, Vivi…” you smiled, accepting the fresh cup from her. It tasted sweet, with just a slight tingle of mint within the brew. Even if it didn’t cure your headache, at least it tasted good.

“Hey,” you stood up from your spot on the floor. “Luffy texted me and asked if we wanted to get breakfast with the guys again. Are you guys cool with that?”

Nami immediately sprung up as if she wasn’t hungover two seconds ago. 

“Sure! Anything to get to his brother!”

“How about you, Vivi?” you asked.

“I would love to,” she replied gracefully.

With that matter settled, the three of you prepared for the day and left together towards the dining hall.

The three of you entered the dining hall, grabbing breakfast and reconvening at one of the numerous tables. You didn’t see Luffy and company when you walked in, and you didn’t see them after sitting down either. Maybe they were at one of the outer tables?

| You: u here luf? Delivered 9:34 | You: earth to luffy? Delivered 9:39

Memories of Luffy’s carefree nature danced in your head, and with that in mind you decided to text a different member of the party. One with more sense. The question, however, was who?

Despite your pleasant conversation with Zoro, you felt like he might leave you on read, and not because of his stoic attitude, no. He gave you an archaic vibe, like your grandparents asking you for help sending a text. So he was off the list.

Usopp was your best bet, but after careful consideration you decided against it. You hadn’t had a conversation with him, and despite his seemingly more mature attitude—at least compared to Luffy—he gave you a cowardly vibe. 

And that left Sanji. The most sensible? Maybe, maybe not. But, you were nervous to text him. The texts he sent you made you feel tiny butterflies in your stomach. It wasn’t his flirting that caused that tickling, it was the care he put into contacting you. He didn’t have to text you, but he chose to.

You felt stupid, like the kind of childish stupid where you have a crush on the kid who lets you borrow their pencil. But you were older, more mature. You knew not to read into every little message and movement of a person. So you could text Sanji, easy peasy!

| You: hey sanji, u guys at the dining hall? Read 9:39 | Mr. Prince: I’m sosososo sorry my Princess!!! | Mr. Prince: We let moss head lead us to the dining hall and we got lost ;o; | Mr. Prince: Lesson learned!! heading over asap!!! ^3^

“Alright, looks like they’re on their way,” you sighed, looking up to your friends.

“Are you kidding me? They’re the ones who wanted to meet!” Nami grumbled, “what gives?”

“According to Sanji, they let Zoro lead them here, but then they got lost.”

“What the hell? Their dorms are, like, fifty feet away?  How the hell do you get lost?” Nami scowled.

“I believe that’s a question for Zoro,” you replied, taking a bite of your toast.

Ten minutes later and your rag-tag crew of misfits barrelled into the dining hall, almost knocking over a dozen students on their way in.

“____!” Luffy called out, heading spinning around as he searched for the three of you.

“Over here,” you yelled, raising your hand up.

You should have realized the consequences of your actions sooner, as Luffy hurled himself at the three of you at full force. There weren’t many options to ensure safety, besides cover your heads or duck under the table, which you and Vivi immediately did. 

Nami, on the other hand, stood up and pulled her fist back. Luffy was going too fast to avoid her punch, and knowing how powerful Nami could get when she was angry, there was no way he’d be able to tank it without injury.

It passed by in slow motion, you and Vivi peeking up to see the collision, Usopp yelling in fear, Zoro and Sanji running to try and stop their friend, and the remaining student population watching in horror.

And just like that, it was over. Luffy laid on the ground, utterly defeated by Nami’s strength. A small bump arose on his head, slowly growing in height.

“Jeez, Nami,” you coughed, “nice…shot?”

“Thanks!” she giggled, flexing her surprisingly muscular arm. “I like to keep people on their toes. If you two ever need a strong-arm, just call me, ‘kay?”

“A-alright,” you stuttered.

Why did you stutter? You weren’t scared of Nami, were you? No, this wasn’t fear, it was more like awe. But not the kind you feel when you see someone do a card trick. More like when—oh, dear. The butterflies were back, fluttering around in your stomach, bouncing off the walls of your intestines, scattering through your body and hitting all of your nerves—

“Luffy!” Usopp and a boy—Chopper, if you remembered correctly— screamed, rushing over to cradle the body of their companion.

“You killed him!” Usopp declared, pointing an accusatory finger at Nami.

“Actually, he’s alive,” Chopper chimed in, “he’s just sleeping.”

“He’s what?” Nami and Usopp deadpanned.

Luffy shot up like a zombie rising from the grave, earning a shriek from Usopp. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a long yawn.

“Oh boy, what happened?” Luffy asked, looked around at the crowd of spectators before he landed on you. “Hey, ____!”

You gave him a small wave, trying to keep your horrified expression hidden behind an apprehensive smile. Before you could get a word out, however, Luffy was quickly sent back into the ground by a punch from Sanji and Zoro.

“You idiot,” Zoro growled, “way to cause a commotion.”

“You scared my lovely ladies!” Sanji hissed, turning to flash a reassuring smile at you three. “I hope you’re alright, my Princess!”

“I just wanted to say hi to ____…” Luffy croaked, eyes falling shut.

“Oh my God, he’s dead!” Usopp wailed.

“Nope,” Chopper reassured, checking Luffy’s pulse. “He’s just asleep again.”

“Again!?” Zoro and Sanji yelled, staring shocked at their sleeping friend.

Vivi slowly uncovered her head, looking at Luffy, “Maybe we should stop hitting him…?” she offered.

The two men huffed, stuffing their hands in their pockets.

“Perfect,” she sighed, doing her best to smile. She turned towards Chopper, who was doing his best to tend to Luffy’s injuries. “And what is your name?”

Chopper looked up, startled before stuttering, “C-Chopper, miss! I’m a medical student who is staying on the same floor as Luffy!”

“A medical student?” Nami asked, “but you’re…”

“I know, I know,” Chopper sheepishly grinned, “I was able to skip a couple grades when I was younger, so…”

“Wow, you must be smart,” you blurted, peeking from under the table.

“N-not really!” Chopper reassured, “I just know a lot of medical stuff! I had a teacher when I was younger…”

“Meat…” Luffy muttered, drooling in his sleep.

Zoro sighed, “Well, you heard the man, let’s get some grub.”

“He didn’t mean you, idiot,” Sanji argued.

“The hell?” Zoro barked, turning to face Sanji.

“Now now,” Usopp interjected, separating the two men and walking off with them, “I think there was wisdom in Luffy’s words…”

The three of you—not including a sleeping Luffy and attending Chopper—sat back down, saying nothing for a minute as you all processed the events that occurred.

“Well,” Vivi finally said, breaking the silence, “I’m grateful that our friends are quite energetic! Back in Alabasta, I would have been escorted to a bunker if this happened!”

“I’m glad you got something out of it, girl,” Nami groaned, eating a tangerine slice.

“I kinda get Vivi,” you replied, finishing off your slice of toast. “It’s an exciting change of pace compared to my life before.”

“Alright, I get it,” Nami mumbled, “maybe you two have a point…”

Suddenly, Luffy arose from his slumber, awaking with a cry.

“Meat!” he howled, rushing to the lunch line.

The four of you watched helplessly as Luffy ran over the entire line of students, piling his plate full of meat, so much so that there wasn’t room for anything else, much less more meat.

“Do you think every meal will be like this…?” Chopper whispered, horrified by the display of gluttony before him.

You stared at your table, seeing Vivi’s intrigue and Nami’s curiosity. Then you turned to watch Zoro and Sanji argue, a moment away from turning into a full on fist fight. Finally you looked at Luffy again, seeing the joy in his eyes as he not-so-carefully maneuvered his giant pile of food.

“I can’t say for sure,” you sighed, a smile gracing your face, “but I’m hoping they’ll be similar to this.”

“Look!” Luffy shouted, slamming his plate onto the table. “They let me have all of this! Isn’t this place great?”

“I doubt they let you, Luffy,” Sanji said, approaching the table with Zoro. “More like they were powerless to stop you.”

“Shishishi!” Luffy chuckled before diving into his mountain of meat.

Before long the dining hall’s aura returned to normal as students resumed eating, only glancing at your table occasionally.

‘Probably to make sure they’re at a safe distance,’ you thought, finishing your food.

But after a while the chatter once again died down, only a whisper being passed along tables as an odd air filled the hall.

“Well,” Nami huffed, “you five took so long that we’re all done with our food, so you better hurry!”

“Go get more, then,” Zoro retorted, earning him a bump on the head.

“That’s a good idea!” Luffy cheered, “let’s all go get more food after—”

A small black blur zipped across the dining hall, barely scraping by the top of Luffy’s head and bisecting his plate of meat. You all turned towards the source, shocked at the blatant murder attempt, with hundreds of witnesses no less. But Luffy was furious, standing up and turning towards the culprit.

“What’s the big idea!” he yelled, clenching his fists.

“Oh, come on now, Luf! That’s no way to greet somebody!” a voice called out, stepping through the crowd of students, wearing the most ostentatious outfit you’d seen during your time here and carrying a hockey stick, clearly his weapon of choice.

You watched as Luffy’s fists unclenched and his expression changed to one of brief confusion, quickly morphing to one of insurmountable joy.

“Ace!” he cried out, sprinting away from the table.

“Ace?” Chopper questioned.

“The hockey player?” Sanji gaped.

 “The brother?” Vivi asked.

Ace grinned, tucking the hockey stick behind his shoulders.

“The one and only!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

[companion-of-the-dragonmark]

Is the Light Fury Based on a Book Character(s)? (HTTYD 3)

Warning: Spoilers for those who either haven't read the books or having read books 10-12.

Greetings and well met, my fellow Dragonmarkers!

Today is the start of ONE of my new article series that I promised to start working on for you guys!

Today's first topic will be diving into the possibility on whether or not the Light Fury is based loosely on a book character as well.

Now, as you guys know, my opinion of the Light Fury is a little on the low side since the trailer. Not only because I've seen Light Furies since the first film came out (thank you, fanfiction and fanart 2010 and up), but also because of the obvious sexual dimorphism that they've created between Toothless and the Light Fury that you never see in other dragon species — which, in my opinion, is a bit of an insult. And her feminine-like physicality and seemingly OP skills.

DreamWorks, be honest, you took this character from the fanbase, didn't you? 😒😑

Would it have killed them to give us another Night Fury? 😭

But, to save time and to prevent you from listening to old rants and explanations from previous articles, I'm moving on.

There's been several theories and headcanons that I've been voicing as to explain her appearance physically and canonly-speaking in the past, but most of them have been shot down by metaphorical bola-launchers manned by Hiccups in the form of Dreamworks. Thank you, Dreamworks! (Notice the sarcasm)

However, recently, I've been re-reading the books and I've noticed something peculiar that never struck me before.

What if the Light Fury isn't as random as I had thought? That she isn't just something that Dreamworks implemented from the fandom in order to please the fans or created for the sole purpose of being Toothless's mate? What if she was inspired — as many HTTYD characters are — from the books?

The reason why I suddenly was struck by this though was by what Dean DeBlois stated: "That we will be basing a lot of the third part of Hiccup's story on the last book of the series: Book 12," to paraphrase heavily here.

He said that they'll be basing the third film to be loyal to the twelfth and final book of the series: How to Fight a Dragon's Fury. (Which, by the way, wasn't really the case.)

So, if this is true, then is the Light Fury a possible nod to the books? That's what we're here to hopefully find out. 

Two Possible Influences:

There are two dragon characters that the Light Fury could possibly be inspired by: 

The Silver Phantom — a powerful dragon species that shows up in books 10-12 (as well as the Complete Book of Dragons)

And Luna, a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus who's Furious's second-in-command and eventually Ruler of the dragons when a dying Furious names her as his successor and leaves for the Great Ocean (the author left it open-ended for the reader to decide whether he lives or not).

These two are not only female dragons, but dragons that are closest to what could've inspired the Light Fury that I could find.

I'm going to begin by discussing the Silver Phantom and the Light Fury and their similarities and differences. Then I'll do Luna and the Light Fury.

Now, please keep in mind that these upcoming reasons of the possibilities of the Light Fury sharing inspiration from one or both of these dragons are pure speculation, hypotheses, guesswork, and assumptions. So please take these words with a grain of salt.

If you think that I am wrong at any points or to improve any points, please let me know. I don't claim to have or know all the answers or that everything that comes out of my mouth is 110% accurate. I'm just making speculative reasonings and theories to try to better understand certain characters out of my love for this fandom.

So on to the Silver Phantom!

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Similarities Between the Light Fury and the Silver Phantom:

The Silver Phantom is first mentioned in Book 10: "How to Seize a Dragon's Jewel", where it's waiting for Hiccup and his dragons in ambush. We find out later that it's the Riding Dragon of Valhallarama, Hiccup's questing mother. It's nameless and doesn't talk (similar to Humungous Hotshot's dragon in book 5: "How to Twist a Dragon's Tale"), unlike other Riding Dragons. Though, I'm sure that's because of irrelevance to the plot of the story.

The stats on the picture say 7 for Size and 8 for Disobedience, though in the stats in the 10th book for the Silver Phantom, it says that all of its categories are a 10. I'm not sure how to account for this, on whether or not if this is a mistake. Or if it's dependent on gender. However, the 10th book was published in 2012, while The Complete Book of Dragons was published somewhere between 2013-2014, so I'm guessing that Cressida changed the stats a bit?

So here are some possible reasons as to why the Silver Phantom and the Light Fury might be similar and why the latter could be loosely-inspired by the former.

1) Both dragons seem to have similar colored scales.

Both dragons seem to have scales of a silvery-white hue, as both of them are sparkly and glowing. 

In page 23 of Chapter 1 in Book 10, it says: 

"Even though it was in the dead of night, every silver scale was lit up and shone brighter than was strictly possible in real life. The Silver Phantom seemed to give off its own light, like the moon.  "Its scream was so high and so loud that Hiccup felt as if it were setting fire to his ears. And as the dragon screamed, it poured out a jet of bright blue flames that blasted the trees in front of it, burning the leaves as bright as green stars before they dropped to the ground in powdery black smithereens."

The Light Fury seems to glow in a similar way, though her scales seem to be nonexistent and more reflective than the Silver Phantom's. Now, the Light Fury doesn't breathe blue/purple flame (the film seems to show that she breathes a regular plasma blast with the normal color of fire, not a bluish-white color), but Toothless does. So I believe that the Fury family could easily be based on this particular dragon, as they can fly in high altitudes, and (the Night Furies, at least) can breathe blue/purple flame, and are the fastest in the dragon world in the movie franchise.

2) Both dragons seem to be rare.

It's described in page 1 of Chapter 1 as being "an Air Dragon of the purest silver — very, very rare and very, very dangerous."  

In Book 10 and in The Complete Book of Dragons, Hiccup says that the Silver Phantom is a very rare dragon. However, in the latter book, it shows Hiccup the First, the second and third Hiccups' ancestor, riding on the back of a female Silver Phantom—which according to Hiccup the Third is very rare. So I'm not sure if Cressida is saying that the Silver Phantom as a species is very rare, or just the females. Or maybe because there are few females, that the Phantoms as a species can't reproduce as quickly and so their numbers were dwindling.

Or maybe during the previous two Hiccups' times, they weren't so rare, but they're rare now in Hiccup the Third's time?

Regardless of the reason, they're a rare species of dragon, and a Viking who has this dragon as its Riding Dragon would definitely be getting a big rise in social status. Valhallarama is the only known Viking in the series to ride a Silver Phantom as their riding dragon. There's also Hiccup the First, but it's not known whether the female Silver Phantom he's riding was allowing him to ride her for a temporary period, or if she was another riding dragon for him. There's no mention in the series of anyone having more than one Riding Dragon. Many Vikings are known to have more than one Hunting Dragon—or just more than one dragon in general—but there's no evidence of any Vikings having more than one Riding Dragon. Wodensfang said in Book 9 that he was Hiccup the First's blood brother and Riding Dragon. So, because of the lack of evidence of Vikings having more than one Riding Dragon, I'm assuming that's because you can only have one at a time, while you can have multiple Hunting Dragons.

Now, concerning the Light Fury, Dean DeBlois has said that "she is not the last of her kind," when talking about the Light Fury. However, you can take that with a grain of salt. For one thing, he says, "not the last of her kind." It doesn't say that they're not rare or endangered, nor does it say that female Light Furies aren't rare. However, I can't say with 110% certainty because neither the movie nor the behind-the-scenes vids have come out to prove this, nor is there any certainty of there being any concrete information in the film even if it does come out. Informative, and quite possibly visual, evidence on Light Furies and Night Furies will probably be scant if at all existent.  

3) Both dragons seem to be super fast.

In pages 32-33, it speaks of the Silver Phantom's speed: 

"Over the past year they had often eluded dragon pursuers by climbing up into the higher air, too high for the other dragons to follow. Most dragons prefer shallow air, the air nearest the ground. Very few can operate in the higher atmosphere. "Apart from the Silver Phantom. ". . . The Phantom was an Air Dragon. They were among the best flyers in the dragon world, and they flew the fastest and the highest."

In Page 307 of Chapter 27, the Phantom's speed is confirmed and the dragon is said to be "the fastest riding dragon in open skies."  

Now, since she's part of the Fury family of Dragons, I'm assuming that she's really fast—as fast as Toothless if not more so (which might be the latter since he's encumbered with flight equipment, while she doesn't have such encumberments). 

The Fury family of Dragons seem to be the fastest dragons in the dragon world, as Hiccup and Dreamworks have stated several times, and is mentioned in the book of dragons. Which makes me not help but wonder if the Night Furies weren't somewhat inspired by the Silver Phantom species.

Now, again, these are just speculative hypotheses at the moment, and probably won't ever be proven.

Now, on to Luna!

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Similarities Between the Light Fury and Luna the Sea-Dragon:

(Second_Only_To_The_Dragon_Furious_by_Grim1978)

.

Luna, Second-in-Command of Furious, King of the Dragons:

Now, this latter character is who I personally believe that the Light Fury is based on, in my opinion. I'll explain as I go along.

1) Both dragons are of the same species as their respective Toothlesses.

In the 12th Book: "How to Fight a Dragon's Fury", Luna is described in Page 76 of Chapter 4 as "a luminously beautiful Sea-Dragon slightly smaller than himself (Furious), known as Luna." 

In the books, "Sea-Dragon" is a term often used to describe the Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus (due to the first part of their species' scientific name, I think), a massive Sea-Dragon species that are arguably the most dangerous dragons known in the dragon world. That, and they're also quite possibly the largest dragons in the dragon world—hence why Furious is King of the Dragons. Size and ferocity are very important for an Alpha, in a similar aspect to lions and wolves, etc. 

Anyway, it's been revealed in Book 11: "How to Betray a Dragon's Hero", that Toothless is a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus, and NOT a Common or Garden Dragon, making him akin to other SGMs such as Wodensfang, Furious, Luna, Merciless/Green Death, and Purple Death (Book 1).

Meanwhile, the Light Fury, while not a Night Fury, is of the same family as the latter and are very close cousins. And since both the Light Fury and Toothless are Furies, and Toothless is loosely inspired from the Book!Toothless, who is a Seadragonus Giganticus Maximus (or a Sea-Dragon) like Luna, it makes sense that the Light Fury might be based on Luna, however slightly. 

2) Both dragons have glowing white scales.

In the same page and the same chapter, the narrator (Hiccup) further describes Luna as such: "She was so-called because she glowed with light like the moon. She lit up the dark storm clouds all around, and waves of heat pulsed out of her, so that the rain smoked and hissed when it landed on her shining body."

Now the Light Fury doesn't have glowing scales; her scales are more sparkly or glittery than anything. But in certain environments under certain exposure of light in a particular angle, it does look like that her scales are glowing in a sense. Unlike Luna, the Light Fury seems to copy the Deadly Shadow's and the Changewing's cloaking abilities, though in a smaller and more temporary sense, and having to use her plasma blasts to activate it.

3) Both dragons become rulers.

In Pages 415 and 421 on Chapter 26, Furious gives his Alpha-ship to Luna before he swims away into the Great Ocean, either awaiting death or even surviving the venomous injury he acquired from the Witch. And Luna then becomes the new Alpha of the Dragons and rules the Dragons for the rest of her days (which are very long indeed, even well past the end of the series.)

Now, here's my theory and headcanon for the third film concerning the Light Fury: That the Light Fury either 1) is Alpha of her own thunder (term for flock of dragons) as Toothless is when they find her and somehow got separated, 2) she'll become co-Alpha when she becomes Toothless's mate, or 3) Toothless, like Furious, ends up giving his Alpha-ship to another—namely the Light Fury—so that he can stay with Hiccup.

What do you guys think? Which do you think is plausible?

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Conclusion:

So that's my thoughts about the Light Fury. What do you guys think? Think that any of this is plausible? Do you think that she might be inspired by the Silver Phantom or Luna or a little bit of both? Anything that I got wrong and needs correcting? What are your thoughts on this?

(Personally, I still think that the Light Fury is a fanbase add-on by DreamWorks.)

Again, this is just a theory since I can't prove any of this. So if you have any thoughts you'd like to give me to prove or disprove this or to add to this that I didn't think of, I'd appreciate it.

Thanks again for your time and for reading this, as well as any comments that you might post. I appreciate the feedback and support!

If you guys have anyone specific you'd like me to write an article about in this comparison series, let me know.

Long Live the Wilderwest!

— Companion of the Dragonmark

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 8 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 2.9k of 30k words | 8th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

The Utsushimis were quiet the entire carriage ride home.

It wasn’t until you were through the doorway of their townhome that Mrs. Utsushimi seemed to snap, grabbing your hair and marching you up the stairs towards your attic bedroom.

“What were you thinking, you wretched girl!” she cried, her voice shrill in your ear.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight her off, knowing as she did that you had just ruined the family once and for all.

“I permitted this acquaintance with Lord Todoroki long enough, thinking you might turn his attentions to Caroline!” she shouted. “And this is what you’ve been doing instead? This is your contribution to preventing scandal?”

“Mama–” Caroline’s voice interrupted. You could just barely hear the worried pad of her slippers over Mrs. Utsushimi’s angry stomps.

“To your room, Caroline, I will speak with you later!” Mrs. Utsushimi said as the pair of you turned the corner to your tiny room.

She shoved you forward, and you stumbled, catching yourself over the bed frame.

“Mrs. Utsushimi, I’ll think of some way to fix it–” you said, but Mrs. Utsushimi shouted over you.

“Pack your things, you little harlot! You have until morning to disappear. You will not be receiving any of your wages, and if you dare seek employment with Camie, so help me I will end you myself!” she bellowed.

She grabbed the door handle and slammed it closed with a strength you’d never known she possessed–rattling the wall and sending a puff of dust into the air from the rafters. You heard her stomp back down the stairs, and heard another door slam on the floor below. And then it was quiet—deafeningly quiet.

A sudden sob welled up in your throat, surprising you with its force. You sank onto your bed helplessly, breath coming in short little hiccups.

What had you done?

How could you have forgotten yourself so foolishly? How could you have lost sight of your objective, this close to the finish line?

It wasn’t enough that you’d had a duty to the family, either. And a duty to your parents, to send back money. But you’d also had a duty to Shouto–Lord Shouto, that was–god, how could you have ever addressed him as Shouto?–to uphold your respective positions in society.

And yet you’d let him go right to your head, like the bubbly fizz of champagne. He was so kind and good and utterly beautiful, inside and out. You’d been overwhelmed by him–but that was no excuse.

He was too honorable. And he would suffer for it. You’d trapped him in matrimony to a woman who was already married.

And he had to be made aware, so he could call off the wedding.

You could disappear–let him find out weeks from now, when the news of the real Camie’s elopement was sure to break, save yourself the face in the process. It might be the only way that Caroline could still have her wedding to Mr. Awase, if he wasn’t too scandalized by the idea of a runaway sister.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it happen that way.

You had betrayed Lord Shouto–and you needed to be the one to close this ridiculous sham out.

You would tell him.

You spent the next few minutes packing your things into your small valise, the one you’d come to the Utsushimi’s doorstep with all those years ago as a wide-eyed teenager. You shed Camie’s fine gown and Caroline’s pretty paste jewels, her silk flower she’d lent you. You folded them all and put them on the bedside and changed into the dress of your station, feeling the loss a little too keenly.

It was disappointing, how much you’d come to like living as a gentlewoman, when you’d known all along you could never have that.

You took Lord Shouto’s calling cards out from under your mattress, where you’d squirreled them away like the lovelorn little rat you were–and noted his address. It was still an early hour, far too early to see him–but this was urgent, and it would take you some hours to cross the city on foot, to the fashionable part where the Todoroki family kept a series of townhomes.

You crept down the stairs quietly, and let yourself out into the night, and began the long trek to Lord Shouto’s.

The early-morning air was cool and damp, and it helped you clear your head. As you walked, you rehearsed all of the things you wanted to say to him, determinedly pushing down the sick feeling that rose like bile in your throat.

The sun was just barely rising, a deep red tinge at the edge of the sky, when you found the placard indicating Lord Shouto’s address.

There was a light at one of the windows on the second floor, the flickering glow of a candle. You wondered if it was Lord Shouto’s room–if he would be awake at this hour, still, unable to stomach the thought of the marriage trap you’d sprung on him.

Well, you would soon put him out of his misery.

With your heart hammering in your mouth, you knocked on the door.

For a long while there was silence, and then a manservant opened the door, looking down at you with a dour expression.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Lord Shouto,” you said.

The manservant looked over your shoulder and squinted, as if a proper chaperone might manifest behind you–but then his eyes seemed to catch on your dress. Not a proper gentlewoman–just a woman.

“What business have you with His Grace at this early hour?” he asked suspiciously.

You opened your mouth, wondering how exactly you might explain it, when a familiar head of red and white hair poked over the man’s shoulder.

“Lord Shouto!” you said, equal parts relieved and horrified to see him.

He looked rumpled, but still wore those dark shirtsleeves and waistcoat, as if he had not yet gone to bed. Those mismatched eyes found yours, and a curious expression came over his handsome face.

“Tell me you did not walk here on your own?” he said, something strangely hard in his voice.

You wondered how angry he must be with you, for it to show in his voice.

“I did. But please, Your Grace. I have some things you need to hear, it should only be a moment,” you said.

Lord Shouto gestured the manservant aside, and offered you his hand, helping you up the last step though you did not need it. You accepted, wondering if this was to be the last time you would get to touch him.

“My study should be best,” he said, and led you down a long, winding hall, to a room at the back of the house where a candle was still glowing on a desk. It was large, and would have been intimidating were it not filled with squashy, comfortable looking furniture and stuffed with all manner of books. There were tens of shelves of them, and even more were piled up around the room in teetering towers.

Lord Shouto’s desk was absolutely carpeted in papers, and your hands itched to tidy them.

Once you were inside, Lord Shouto closed the door behind you. You took a deep, steadying breath–and then–

“You should not have come alone. The streets are dangerous at night,” he said.

You turned, to look into his face. “My lord, I treasure your concern. However, you’ll want to hear–”

“The Utsushimis let you come alone?” he repeated, looking as though he couldn’t stomach the thought. His care warmed something inside you, but you knew you could not let him persist in his delusion that you were a gentlewoman. There was nothing wrong with a servant walking the streets alone.

You gathered yourself up.

“I am not Camie Utsushimi,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s eyes darted up to yours, and he paused. His brow raised slowly, but his expression did not change otherwise. The flickering light of the candle cast fluttering shadows over his face, dancing in the hollows of his cheeks, smudging under the dark line of his thick lashes.

He did not offer a reply, and you stood in an awkward silence, until you realized he meant for you to explain further.

“I–my lord, I never meant…I did not think…” you fumbled, until your eyes flashed up to his face again, handsome and solemn. And you realized he deserved the truth, not your excuses.

“No, regardless of what I meant or why I did it,” you tried again. “I have deceived you. I am not Camie Utsushimi. I am not even a gentlewoman. I am called Y/N, and I was a servant in the Utsushimis’ home until this morning.”

Lord Shouto watched you still, saying nothing, and so you continued.

“Camie Utsushimi eloped days before the opening of the season, to Lord Inasa Yoarashi. They are honeymooning now, but she will return to Musutafu soon enough, and our plot will be revealed. I wanted…” you cast your eyes down, unable to look at his face. “I wanted you to find out from me. I wanted to give you the opportunity to announce you are calling off the marriage, before you are caught up in the scandal too.”

You drew in a shivering breath. “I am sorry.”

For a long moment, Lord Shouto said nothing. You could not imagine what he was thinking, how he might even begin to respond to something like this.

After several minutes of silence, he finally moved. There was the soft tread of his boots across the floor. You stayed frozen, unable to anticipate what he was doing. His index finger curled gently under your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You think I did not know,” he said.

Your mouth opened in shock.

He–what? He knew?

“You–? How could you know?” you asked, when you were finally able to gather the trappings of language back to you. “My lord, what do you mean–?”

“The way you behaved, from our first meeting,” Lord Shouto said in his deep tone. “I suspected you were either a very uneducated debutante–quite at odds with Miss Caroline–or a pretender. And then, when I called on you–you answered the door as a servant would. The Utsushimis’ sitting room was barren of any portrait of you, but had plenty of Caroline and another girl who looks just like her–who I am assuming must be the real Camie.”

Fuck! So he had seen something then!

His fingers burned on your skin, and you were all too aware of his touch when you swallowed nervously. Horror and embarrassment burned hot across your skin, igniting your cheeks.

“My lord, I can only apologize and promise that you will never have to see me again,” you said, fighting down the sudden hot sting of tears behind your eyelids. “You were kinder to me than I deserved, and I–-if I had known how good you were, I should have never done it.”

“And if I want to see you again?” Lord Shouto asked carefully.

You glanced up at him, cringing when a tear escaped you in your surprise. “Lord Shouto, please. Do not continue to be kinder to me than I deserve. I will not ever be able to work again in Musutafu, besides.”

Lord Shouto’s thumb came up, and brushed your tear away. You froze, a cocktail of confused emotion burbling up inside you.

“Tell me why you did it,” Lord Shouto said softly. You stared up into those mismatched eyes, watched his long, shadowy lashes fall over his perfect cheekbones when he blinked.

You did not want to say it. But…

“For money, my lord,” you said, hating the way honesty tasted in your mouth. “I send a stipend back to my family. The Utsushimis promised steady wages and a bonus, and future employment with Camie and Lord Inasa when we were discovered. I would have money for my family, and get to see my friend again. And I–”

You took a shuddering breath in, embarrassed with just how open your emotions must be to Lord Shouto. “I did not think I would befriend anyone. I did not know there was anyone like you, or Miss Uraraka, or Lady Asui. I thought all the gentry ridiculous and overweening. Stupidly, I did not understand that it would be so easy to become close–that I would directly affect anyone…”

You had to stop, then, clamping down on a fresh wave of tears. You would not cry in front of Lord Shouto–not when you were at fault here.

Lord Shouto watched you silently, for a long time, your face still held in his grip. You just watched him helplessly, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Eventually, he spoke, his thumb sliding absently across your cheek, again. “Will you come with me?” he asked.

Your brows knit. “Come with you–? To…where, my lord?”

“To the palace,” he said. “To meet Her Highness, Princess Momo.”

All the blood in your veins iced over, and you could feel your body drawn into itself defensively, your hands curling into fists at your side.

There could be nothing good for a deceitful maid at the palace. Nothing good in meeting Princess Momo, especially if he planned to tell her what you’d done.

But…perhaps that was exactly it.

Perhaps Lord Shouto meant to let her pass judgment on your crimes against him. To deliver her royal justice upon you. He was rumored to be her impending fiancee–and there had to be a price to pay, for attempting to entrap the future prince of the empire in a marriage scheme that might have disrupted their union.

Fear and apprehension prickled up your spine. Your gut churned in great heaving turns, and you felt like you might be sick.

But you had come to set things right, hadn’t you? You had come to do the right thing by Lord Shouto, when you could have just as easily fled the city.

You could…No, you would see this through.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

Lord Shouto’s hand finally dropped from your chin, and he bade you wait a moment. He stepped over to his desk and scribbled something down on a bit of parchment, and then sealed it and stepped out into the hall. You heard him conduct a brief conversation with a manservant, and then he ducked back in to tell you he wouldn’t be a moment.

You nodded, afraid of what you’d sound like if you spoke. When the door closed behind him, you let the shivers come over you, gripping Lord Shouto’s desk against a sudden bout of lightheadedness.

You briefly considered running, turning and contemplating your valise where you’d deposited it next to the door.

But suddenly all the fight had left you.

If this is truly what Lord Shouto wanted, then you owed him this much, didn’t you?

When he returned, he’d changed into something decidedly less rumpled and considerably more appropriate for an audience with royalty. You felt conspicuous in your graying maid’s garb, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Lord Shouto led you outside, where a carriage had already been arranged, and he surprised you by handing you up into the carriage as though you were any sort of a proper lady. Your face went hot, despite the cool prickle of apprehension that had settled into your bones.

He settled in across from you, those mismatched eyes blisteringly hot on your skin.

And then, with a final word from him, the carriage rattled off towards the palace, the wheels clattering over the cobblestones in the early morning quiet.

[tanoraqui]

key elements of Crownless (the Young Aragorn show that lives in my head and heart) season 1:

(Note that I will play a little fast and loose with timelines and for the sake of a better story. And/or take ruthless advantage of canonical slow Dúnedain aging to spread the timeline out over several decades)

First episode(s) is Aragorn (age 21, functionally late teens) leaving Rivendell to start wandering the wilds with the Rangers. I would do Elrond & his people dirty and say that Aragorn has been kinda sheltered growing up, a little because Elves tend to baby Men, especially young Men, and mostly because everyone wanted to be sure Isildur’s heir was safe as darkness grew in the world, especially after his father was killed when he was 2.

So Aragorn starts with significant book smarts, homely peace smarts—historical knowledge, animal friendship, herblore, diplomacy skills, technical sword/knife/bow skills…but he doesn’t know the dirty fighting tricks that win a fight. His tracking, hunting, forest stealth, etc. skills…suck at first. He’s prone to freeze in urgent healing (or combat) situations, because he’s never done this on his own before—though he has a natural talent for the ‘calling people back from death’ thing we see in LotR.

(This gives Aragorn obvious skills to pick up that demonstrate his character growth as a leader, while also establishing from the start that his real talent in kingship is, always was, diplomacy, strength of character & connection with his people, literal and metaphorical healing. Also, weirdass plans, often based on things he read, with success resting on luck/prayer/hope more than any reasonable thing…including a willingness to trust strange new and/or sketchy people…and they work.)

Maybe eps 1-2 is a double-length episode: opens with newly widowed Gilraen arriving in distress with a toddler 18 years ago, then first half is mostly restless late teen!Estel in Rivendell, ending with Elrond revealing his true name, broken sword, time to go forth… Smash cut to Aragorn tripping in the forest and falling in a stream while 2 other baby Rangers laugh at him and whoever’s stuck training these new recruits sighs heavily. There’s a lot of “this is the new Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Isildur’s heir?”

Format: 22ep 44min monster of the week (like GOD INTENDED) focused on the newest young Rangers: Aragorn, Halbarad, Dúnawen (OC: “maiden of the west”, don’t @ me for naming), as they range throughout Eriador learning how to be badasses guarding the boundaries of civilization. Monsters include orcs, wargs, mortal bandits, trolls, giant spiders, a small ice wyvern that made its way to northern Dale, barrow-wrights, unhoused fëa, rival clans of Men or maybe Dwarves who are about to go to blood feud war…

…and a slowly mounting season plot of the trouble of 3 Nazgúl reoccupying Dol Goldur, after the White Council forced the “Necromancer” out 15ish years ago. (Riling up ghosts throughout the countryside? Something something themes of moving on from the past. Also, can’t go wrong with an episode in which heroes must confront their literal personal ghosts.)

Repeat cameos from Elrohir & Elladan, cousins of all Mannish Dúnedain (and kind of older brothers to Aragorn in particular.) Are they helping him? Are they harder on him than on the other new recruits? Are they good cop/bad cop-ing it?

Arwen! Meet briefly ep1 and/or she’s a key feature of midseason finale; return in season finale to be badass. “Tinúviel! Tinúviel!” scene in Lothlórien casts a hiccup in a fledgling romance between Aragorn and Dúnawen

All combinations of Aragorn/Halbarad/Dunawen ARE welcome, nay, encouraged. They’re functionally in college and they’re all hot, and constantly in near-death situations. I advise the writers to have fun. Bisexuality is free.

Gandalf introduction early, ep2? Probably also in finale (something of a large team-up).

Late season bottle episode, maybe just before a 2-parter finale, in which due to a thunderstorm/mudslide/cave-in incident, Aragorn, Halbarad and Dunawen are trapped in a cave/small series of caves with a random assortment of other travelers on the road west of Bree: a pair of Dwarvish merchants, a few men, 1 elf (journeying to the Havens to Sail?), and 1 hobbit, Mr. Drogo Baggins of Hobbiton, who was making a perilous journey to Bree and back in order to fetch his beloved, very pregnant wife a particular kind of cheese she was craving. No loss of air threat, but they’re stuck. Obviously getting Drogo home is of utmost importance (and everyone else needs to get home safe, too). Tempers run high! Only once the Junior Rangers sort out their late-season interpersonal drama can Aragorn rise to the occasion and organize/mediate this microcosm of Middle Earth’s populace to dig their way out of this cave.

Aragorn is exceptionally good at facing down Nazgúl and their weaponized despair because he has—indeed, he is, by name!—hope. This show is about hope first and teamwork second, and looking badass in a beautiful landscape while Howard Shore music swells third.

[s2 in notes]

[wuucchoo]

Jujutsu kaisen: the good and the bad

Hello!!! I'm out here making essays about jujutsu kaisen once again! And this is most likely the last one I'll make on it :3

((This is a (almost) 4k word rant, read at your own risk >:3))

So, the manga ended - and as far as I can tell, people’s opinions on it are pretty much divided. I personally found it extremely unsatisfying for many reasons, but I'll start with the ‘good’ things first.

THE GOOD

Jjk is a story that's a battle of ideals as much as it is a battle of techniques and fists. And, based on my understanding, the ending that gege chose to go for is the one where no one was actually proven right or wrong. Everyone's ideals and way of life remained the same from the beginning of the story to the end. 

Yuji, who's ideal is to save people as much as he can, was able to do that to the very end. Yes, there were hiccups - like the moment where Megumi had to remind him what his ideal was when he almost gave up after the Shibuya incident, but he got back on track right after he heard what Megumi had to say. And so he remained the person he was from the start by helping Megumi and also trying to help sukuna too. His character is pretty straightforward so it's very easy to understand it.

Sukuna, whose way of life and ideal is to live for himself in whatever way he wanted to, did just that to the very end. He refused yuji's offer because he'd rather die than live on someone else's terms. And in the afterlife he only considered trying a different path if there's a next life where his options would possibly be different than what he had in the life he knew. A possibility of a different life, a different path - yet still on his own terms, like he always did. He didn't regret the way of life he chose, he lived the only way he knew how based on the options presented to him in that life. And if there is a next life, he wouldn't mind trying out another path depending on what his supposed next life would have in store for him - as long as he does it on his own terms, and not living through what someone else's version of happiness was. He remained steadfast with his belief and ideal until the very end.

And megumi! I have a lot to say about him so brace yourself to anyone who might read this :3

At first, I thought (after that ending) that his character was all about him wanting to live and letting other people into his life once again and all that shit idk. But now, after cashew (from twitter!) explained their interpretation of the ending I see it in a different way (but slightly the same still).

Megumi’s character from the beginning to end has always been about loving selflessly in a selfish world. As a young child, he had viewed himself as nothing but a commodity, a bargaining chip his father left behind - and his value was in the technique he was born with because that's how every adult in his life has treated him. Gojo went to find him because of his technique, the school accepted and helped him out financially because of his technique, the Zenin wanted him because of his technique - just, every adult who could have made a difference in his life failed him because whether they did it on purpose or not, all of them made it seem like Megumi’s value is only ever in his CT.

Yes, Toji was happy when he found out that Megumi kept the Fushiguro surname because of the implication that he was never sold into the Zenin - but that hardly made an impact on Megumi’s perception of his worth because he never knew who Toji even was. To the very end, Megumi’s father was ‘the dude who sold him to the Zenin as a bargaining chip’ for him ((which i hate btw, but we’re talking about ‘the good’ right now so that rant can wait :3c)). And so, as a kid who was made into thinking that he’s just a commodity - he poured all the love in his heart to the one person who loved him just because its him, which was his sister. And in so doing, he became a person who puts someone else’s happiness above his own at all times. 

Gojo tried to get that out of Megumi by telling him to ‘be greedy/selfish’, and he did try to do that during ‘origin of obedience’ where he acquired a domain - not because he wants to save someone else, but because he wants to defeat the finger bearer in front of him. And that was just the one time, moving forward - everything he did has been for someone else again. He almost slipped into the deep end when he almost killed Remi just because he can that one time, but Tsumiki (or the idea of her) stopped him. This made me think that if Tsumiki doesnt exist Megumi would have been so powerful ((and yet evil too at the same time, something to think about i guess))

In a world that rewards selfishness he chooses to be selfless and keep other people's happiness above his own - because to him seeing the people he cares about happy is what peak happiness looks like. So when sukuna tried to manipulate and shame him for everything that happened while he was possessed - he didn't entertain it, instead he decided to do the thing that got him into this mess all over again - to live for other people once again. Living for the sake of Tsumiki’s happiness, trying to save her in every way possible as much as he could, was not a stupid mistake - that's why he will go and do it again. Despite all the pain and suffering it caused him, he will try to live and love again (I'm talking love in its broad definition btw) - because loving Tsumiki wasnt a mistake he should learn from, but a memory he will cherish. 

From the very beginning, Megumi’s ideal was to save people unequally because he's not a hero, and he never tried to be - the best way he can think of living his life is to pick and choose who to save because he can't realistically save everyone. And so, this - as well as the first thing I mentioned - was his truth and he stuck to it to the end. And he did have a moment when he gave up on that, after sukuna succesfully wore down his soul through all this careful planning and risks he took from the moment he got interested in megumi. Possessing him in ch 212 (at his most vulnerable and confused moment), performing a bath ritual to drag his soul even further than it already was, killing Tsumiki so Megumi loses any semblance of hold he might have had even after doing the bath ritual, and then using his likeness to fight sorcerers. Yet despite being the one with the most reason to curse sukuna in death, he decided, not just to live his truth, but tsumiki’s as well - by choosing to think about the people he cares about instead of cursing those who wronged him.

In the end, everyone lived and died by their own truth and ideals, and no one was proven right or wrong. ((gojo, yuta and many other characters too had their ideals challenged but never proven right or wrong - but i dont wanna talk about too many characters or this would go on for days))

Looking at it this way, the ending was 'good' in its own right (and as a concept) - but the road that led up to it, and the execution for most of the scenes left a lot to be desired.

THE BAD

While I do see what gege seems to be trying to say with his story, that doesn't mean I agree with it nor do I believe that such an ending was 'earned' when the build up that led to it was lacking in so many ways.

I agree that the world isn't black and white, and no one has the answer on what the right way to live life truly was - but the villains in his story went beyond being ‘bad’, they were clear and pure evil. And yet we see zero comeuppance - both kenjaku and sukuna didn't get the karma they deserve. Because, as it seems, with all the Buddhism values and themes gege borrowed - in the world of jjk karma isn't real, or at least not for the villains. ((And nope, what naoya and the zenin went through wasn't karma - what they experienced was vengeance, imo, more than it was karma.)) That's why Megumi felt like such an incomplete character, because to complete him the way he deserves would be to answer that karma is real.

Despite all the evil things both sukuna and kenjaku did - we instead see them both rewarded (REPEATEDLY)  for being evil. 

First, kenjaku.

Most people would probably agree that kenjaku is the main villain in the story, despite how the second half of the culling game turned into mostly about sukuna - it was kenjaku's master plan that started all of this. And kenjaku was evil. Pure and unapologetic evil. The things he did to choso's mother alone, warrants him an end worse than death. He lived his long life doing nothing but make other people suffer, all for the sake of curiosity and wanting to be entertained.

And yet the ending we all saw him get was a happy one - dying with a smile on his face because finally after years of living he was finally entertained - and it all happened because he decided to play with people's lives and start a death game.

He was rewarded for being evil.

Playing with the lives of other people was not presented to be as bad as it should be when the villain who committed these crimes didn't even get their comeuppance and was instead rewarded. Just to put into perspective, kenjaku REPEATEDLY forced someone to be impregnated so he can use the cursed children for his experiment. And that is just a tiny drop in the pool of heinous stuff he did. He is beyond evil.

While his way of life and ideal was not proven correct; it wasnt proven as wrong either. Because he didnt get even an ounce of the suffering he induced onto others, instead he was rewarded with a satisfying death. Putting into perspective everything kenjaku did, its pretty insane that he got to have a death where he could have a smile on his face and be satisfied. Gege went out of his way to create an op character (with an op technique that barely got an explanation) out of nowhere with takaba just so kenjaku can have fun. This is what i mean by evil gets rewarded in gege’s story. ((i mean just look at what happened with mei mei vs what happened with nanami. Gege rewards bad people, a lot of the time. And i guess in nanami’s case it can be argued that its coz to gege, death itself is a reward, but i digress.))

And then there’s sukuna.

Where do I even begin…

Maybe at the beginning, to make things easier.

Remember what Sukuna said the first time he reincarnated? He was looking for the 'women and children' celebrating how 'it would be a massacre' - this statement from him suggests that he, not only fights people who challenges him ((like what was implied with his dialogue with Kashimo)) but he was also actively seeking out people leagues weaker than him just for fun or as sports. Which was why the minuscule lore drop we got about him by the end felt really jarring to read - especially when it came from Mahito's mouth. A character who (as far as we knew in the story) barely even knows himself, let alone Sukuna. And yet, for the sake of making things just speed up and over with, we are just supposed to believe that he knows enough about Sukuna to say that his reason for being the way he was was because of 'revenge to the world' 😭. Where did Mahito learn that? When did he learn that? We don't know, so we just gotta accept and sit through Gege's 'tell not show' way of telling a story.

Sukuna is evil, and just like Kenjaku he was not apologetic about it nor does he regret it. Every path in his life he chose was that of the evil route - there was no grey area, there was no question on whether his way of life was good or not. It was evil, plain and simple.

And yet the story Gege wrote kept rewarding him for being evil.

And it seems as if all the innocent people he killed (for no reason!) doesnt matter.

Despite how bullshit it was - he was able to steal an innocent kid's body using a binding vow that should have had him killed (or worse) and yet it did nothing to him. He was rewarded for being greedy. He then had the time of his life fighting gojo, I don't count the jumping that happened later on as him having the time of his life coz it seems to be just a major annoyance to him. And then later on died with the option to walk a different path in the next life. In itself, it sounds great - but looking at the destruction he caused... Where's the karma? 

There's none, because gege doesnt seem to think he deserves it. 

I really really disagree with this message ngl. Coz the characters in gege's manga holds more sympathy to the perpetrators than the victims themselves - and I just can't agree with it  ((coz wdym gojo tried his best 'to reach sukuna'? That shit came out of nowhere.. Like,, why was he more concerned if sukuna had a good time? This wouldnt feel so jarring and out of place if Gege took the time to flesh out the characters more. if he gave us a moment of Gojo sympathizing with sukuna before the fight, before the culling game, before Shibuya. Meaningful character interactions between Gojo and Sukuna, a convincing one, that would make it make sense that Gojo's goal when he was fighting Sukuna was to, apparently, 'reach him' and 'make him understand'. The ending we got doesnt feel 'earned' because this whole time gege never gave us anything about Sukuna's character aside from 'he's very strong and he kills people' until the last two pages of the manga.))

For gege to go with this theme and messaging, he ended up disregard Megumi's character completely and reducing him into this character who had zero feelings on the matter that directly affected him. Yes, he was apologetic and all that - but... That's it? And while i do understand (i think) what it was Gege was trying to go for with Megumi's character, the execution of it just felt so half baked and lackluster - making Megumi's character feel incomplete despite the amazing build up Gege made for his character.

((A similar thing was done to yuji's character for the sake of the 'messaging' gege aimed for, but i will get to that later.))

Sukuna's statement of 'there are consequences to being greedy' never came to bite him in the ass, despite how much it should've considering all he has done- because everything he does gets rewarded. It's like, being that evil is good coz he keeps on getting what he wanted. And like a dumbass I kept on waiting for karma to get him and it never did. Coz karma isn't real in gege's world. ((and no, him being defeated is not karma because the only thing it did is lead him towards the path of redemption - like, the victims dont matter and what matters more is the psyche of the perpetrator. I dont know if i described it properly, but eh.))

Sukuna bets his life with a binding vow? He gets rewarded with the body he wanted with zero consequences - doesn't matter that gege had to go through a MASSIVE plot hole just to get there. Because in no universe was the thing he did to Megumi (and to hana) not considered ‘harm’, but it all got shoved under the carpet because gege doesnt know what to do with that. Gege needed that binding vow to not punish Sukuna, so despite the established rules he wrote in his own story that warrants that binding vow penalty to trigger - it just didnt... because??? If it was coz 'yuji didnt include himself in the people that cant be harmed', as Sukuna guessed, then i guess yuji didnt include Megumi and Hana in it too? But doesnt that neglect the point of yuji's character as being 'kind'? 212 was a massive plothole and i think thats really where the writing began to get... bizarre.

Sukuna kills yorozu/tsumiki just to drag Megumi further into the abyss? He gets rewarded with a weapon that (surprise, surprise) saved him from higuruma's CT. A CT that before that moment, he doesn't even know about. Good thing killing tsumiki's body rewarded him with a weapon, amirite?

Sukuna never fails to show his hatred for Yuji and would always try and make him suffer whenever he gets the chance? He gets rewarded by Yuji suddenly giving him an option to live again even though the entire story Yuji had always said he would kill sukuna. And i understand its coz yuji was able to know sukuna has a soul ((coz gege gave him the power of the mc punch)) and was able to conclude that he’s still human despite the HEINOUS crimes he committed, and megumi having been possessed by sukuna the longest was able to see that sukuna was desperate to live too - so i do see where gege was going with it. It just feels like the build up towards that conclusion wasn't earned, because even though it can be understood it just wasnt SHOWN to us. All thats being done is TELL and never SHOW.

Everything sukuna does gets rewarded and it just doesn't sit right with me. Its like saying the war criminals are just lashing out coz the world wronged them, that they deserve sympathy too. Okay, and what about the people they wronged, tho? Sukuna deserves sympathy for the world that wronged him, sure, but it doesnt absolve him of the crimes he committed - he deserves karma just as much as he deserves sympathy. And yet we see him walking away from everything he did with a smile on his face, zero regrets, zero repercussions and the possibility of living a better life in his next. ???

the ending

((Im sorry in advanced if youre a yuji fan coz im gonna say something you might not like 😢))

Imagine your sister got killed by someone and then your classmate comes in and says they forgive your sister’s murderer and wants to give them a chance at a better life? That this classmate of yours would be willing to turn his back on everyone else just so this criminal who killed your sister (and so many others in cold blood) can live? That even if no one else is willing to, he would give solace to this murderer - just so this murderer gets his second chance? What would that feel, you think? Thats a pretty weird scenario you might say, but thats exactly what Gege made yuji say and do by the end there.

Gege tried to portray 'kindness' with that speech yuji did, but ((imo!)) he ended up making yuji's character sound insensitive and cruel not just towards sukuna but mostly towards his victims and to all the people that died trying to stop him.

In itself, maybe in Gege's head - it sounds like a "good" thing to say - but when you look at the chapters that happened before that, its not something yuji nor sukuna earned because yuji was not sukuna's only victim and he wasnt the only one who defeated sukuna for him to decide and say all that. Knowing the things we know about the story that led up to that moment, gege just made yuji sound selfish and cruel - by having zero regards to everyone else's sacrifice and suffering. Which is a very weird thing for gege to do because before that moment, yuji was talking about the people who died - and then disregards that in the next chapter just so gege can write those lines.

Yuji's character is far, FAR, from selfish and cruel, and yet that speech gege made him say to the dying sukuna unfortunately made him sound like that.

This would all land better IF we saw yuji SEE sukuna go through the life he had during the heian era - like maybe what he went through was enough of a reason for someone like yuji ((who was supposed to be kind)) to suddenly offer all that, knowing damn well the amount of people who would possibly be hurt by that decision.

Im really not digging gege's exploration of good and evil - coz he almost always rewards evil and make good people suffer (with zero payoff, mind you). This 'trying to understand the villain coz he's human too' route just fell flat because we were never given the chance to understand sukuna except in the last 2 pages where he was given vague lore drops - and a statement from mahito who, before that moment, doesnt even know anything about sukuna except that he's strong. How and why the world 'wronged' him, we'll just never know, coz instead of showing us, gege kept on just 'telling' instead. But i guess for the sake of just ending the story we all just gotta accept that mahito, of all things, somehow knew of sukuna's reasons. lmao?

And the reason why i keep referring to the lines as 'Gege made this character say this and that' is because by the end, and even in some chapters before that, the characters lost their identity and are instead talking through a script gege made them say. Yes, a story is essentially that - but a good story is where characters feel alive and are speaking through their own soul which the last 5 chapters of jjk lacked tremendously. The characters felt like they were locked in a fixed role gege chose for them, and then they were given scripts to say, and then they were all rushed to say those lines because of tight deadline, and they have to say those lines just so the story would end. I know i dont make sense... but it probably would make sense to anyone who have read a good story where characters actually feel alive and not just there as the author's mouthpiece.

I know this is gege's first series, and its bound to have some flaws - drawing and writing a story weekly requires immense skill and discipline, i respect his craft a lot. Its why the disappointment i felt was great, because the story in the first half had such a good thing going and so i placed such a high expectation on it. Still, for his first series, its not bad... I probably wont be looking forward to his next series though, i find im not the biggest fan of this writing style that leaves a lot of things unresolved and just lets the readers write their own headcanons to fill the void.

((if anyone read up here, uhhhh hey there! thank you for reading my (almost) 4k word rant lmao, i actually have more to say but ee.. there's too many. This is my last rant on jjk (probably) feel free to fight me on this, one thing i wont back down on is the plot hole in 212 - that was a stinky plot hole and we just went past that like, damn..))

bye for now!