#ngl i wasnt expecting to like it THIS much but good god i actually love it 😭😭

[baeshijima]

CHOJI AND TOGAME BACKSTORY WDYM ITS WITH ONE STAINING HIS IMAGE AND DISCARDING HIS SELF AND PHILOSOPHIES SO THAT HIS SUN CAN SHINE AND LAUGH WITH THE OTHERS WITHOUT DOING THE DIRTY WORK SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPP

[darkfictionjude]

hi jude!!! it's been like 5 months since i first read wwc and ngl i kinda forgot about it since then, but i got into it again :D

im the person that recommended the song "It's a sin" for mc's playlist and ive come bearing more songs..... some good some probably random....

for the love of god by mindless self indulgence, gives me mc vibes

tear you apart by she wants revenge and kiss me you animal by burn the ballroom kind of give off mc and the ROs? like theyre pretty weird girl (gender neutral) songs and mc is weird enough for both them and the RO

blood gets thin by pete and the pirates makes me think of lorcan and orlas relationship esp considering the "if the doctor cant do tricks, you can use your normal fix" line makes me think of lorcans fucked up self and the whole "you can't wake her up" part is very much orla

and lowkey.... creep by radiohead makes me think of mc....... im giggling while typing this but like cmon........

now if any of these songs are already in a playlist somewhere or if i mischaracterized someone terribly i do apologize, i havent reread the story yet.... but i couldnt stop thinking about this lol

ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR THE LENGTH OF THE ASK i wasnt expecting it to get this long but erm (〃￣▽￣〃)_・)

Wow can’t belief how ephemeral us IF writers are after all the good times we’ve had nonnie😔

Tear you apart is actually on Lorcan’s playlist already! And you see I didn’t add creep for the same reason I didn’t add smells like teen spirit for the main playlist — it’s just too obvious 😭

But I did add the new ones 😌

[slowdripsunrise]

MORE READING UPDATES OMLLLLLLL i forgor about this blog again. it will happen again tbh but i still have to go through all of the books i finished in late 2023 up to now... i'm gonna try and get as many as i can done but probably wont get all of them lol. probably very long post/rant + spoilers for various books under the cut

keep in mind i have shit memory and all of these books were finished a while ago so be warned for bad analysis and summaries

-How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu: this book was a collection of short stories that are interconnected through characters and a central storyline - a plague. i thought the concept was super interesting and i had heard really good things about it from people i share a reading taste with so i went into this expecting to be blown away and i just. wasnt. i LOVED some of the short stories and there were a few that made me cry, mainly snortorious and the robot dog story where the mom died, but other than that it was kinda a let down. the ending fucking sucked ngl. like i thought we were leading up to some profound moment, especially calling back to the chapter where people are relieving their memories in the dark, because i thought that was really compelling and interesting, but it was just fucking aliens. like it reallly feels like a cop out to me. like a whole "and it was all just a dream" type ending. im not gonna rate it actually yes i am i'd give it like 2.5-3 stars. only because some of the chapters were super hard hitting but other than that. meh.

-The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater: WHOOOOO BOY. i ate this shit up. god if i had read this in middle school or high school i am 100% certain it would have become my entire personality. like i fucking get it. i totally fucking get it. i'm treating the whole series as one book rn bc they all kinda blend together in my mind and its been a while but just. the fucking vibes. good lord the vibes were so good. can't pick out any 100% certain things i particularly noticed but i will reblog every webweave about this series there is trust. rating the entire series as 5 stars mostly because i listened to the audiobook and they did SUCH A GOOD JOB ON TH E AUDIOBOOK OML like. at first i was kinda thrown off bc i wasn't expecting it to be so. southern? but once i finished the first one i knew there was no way i could just go back to reading it with a physical book like audiobook all the way the narrator was so awesome and i love the southernness of it.

-What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher: my first t. kingfisher book! i loved the vibes, the world, the whole new set of pronouns, that shit was so fun, overall a nice short and sweet creepy ass fucking book. like im a huge wimp so i was deffo nervous and freaked out at some points, especially with the rabbits lol idk why but those were unnerving. the author did a really good job of conveying the mc's anxiety and fear while also adding in some humor and soldier rationality and stoicism. lol. cute i liked it 3.5/4 stars.

-Fault Lines by Emily Itami: tbh mostly picked this one up for the cover and it was really just a standard cheating story where the mc gets back together with her original husband because of their kids. nothing i remember to be groundbreaking at all really. 2.5 stars

-Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez: I really wasn't expecting to like this book as much as I did. the pov changes i think were very well done and intentional and weren't confusing at all! the narrators for the audiobook were wonderful and really brought life to the story, a lovely book.

-She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan: honestly, looking back on it, i was never really captivated by this story. it took me a long time to get into it, and i really never connected with any of the characters. a lot of it was more confusing than not, and i'm honestly not sure if i feel the need to continue the series. may be a case of me not being in the right mood for it, but i don't see myself trying it again. kinda sad cuz i was excited to love this but oh well. win some lose some.

-Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr: hands down my fav book of 2023 and one of my fav books of all time. like i have a feeling this review is going to be either very long or very short because there is no way i will be able to write out all the ways i love this book. the owl motif. the environmental extremism from seymore that i can 100% relate to. the way that he fell down that path in a way that felt realistic to me, based on his circumstances, and it isn't implied in my opinion, that all autistic people are like this, that all autistic people can take things to the extreme like seymore did. the audiobook was wonderful. the interconnected stories over time i think is one of my new favorite tropes/plots/metas. if done well (cough how high we go in the dark) it gets me every single time. XENO and everything about him. i was listening to the audiobook at work and during his death i had to fight back tears lol. god. and the kids in the play and how they wanted to end the story.... fuck my life. and konstance and her curiosity and oh my god everything about this book messed me up. 5/5 i think thats all i'll be able to say before i combust.

-Chlorine by Jade Song: what a weird little book. really liked it. audiobook slayed. not much else to say. recommend for weird lesbians. 3.5/4 stars.

-A Dowry of Blood by S. T. Gibson: THE AUDIOBOOK NARRATOR IS SO FUCKING GOOD AT HER JOB I COULD LISTEN TO HER TALK ALL DAY I THINK IM IN LOVE WITH HER. the story was really good love a good vampire story love a good creepy story. fun time. listened to the audiobook in like an hour hour and a half car ride it was a good time. 3.5 stars.

and that ends off all of the books i read in 2023 !!!!!!! YIPPEEE!!!!! i'll stop here and make a separate post for the books i've read so far in 2024 just for organizational purposes and also because i am hungry and need to stop lol. if you made it this far through the post i love you and also sorry for the long rant but also too bad because this is my blog and you clicked on it. happy reading :)

[jackienautism]

Now I’m really curious about your thoughts on the other counselors. I don’t really have any strong opinions on them much tbh idk why. Maybe it’s the whole “horny teenager” trope or something

(finally getting around to this. sorry for taking so long dfkldg)

yeaaaah fair enough dfgjndg thats exactly why i get pissed off playing the game tbh. it just becomes so convoluted with this romantic whatever bullshit that it gets SUPER TIRING...... but that's ok though bc silas kaylee and caleb need someone to love them unconditionally right?

anywho! i appreciate you wanting to see my other unfiltered opinions on the characters kdfgdfjg bc gosh do i have a lot. especcially for TQ bitches. as i just ssaid,

i AM going to get unfiltered and potentially brutal so if anyone is your ultimate bestie i recommend not reading (abi and laura are safe though of course<3) (mainly because nothing about either of them necessarily irritated me LOL and im easy to irritate)

im going to reference my thoughts on the characters from a note i wrote after playing through like ? chapter 4 for the first time. but honestly not miuch has changed. and just to preface this a good portion of my negative opinions come from the campfire scene in chapter 2 LOL like. when i first played the game i began disliking like more than half the characters here alone

//

dylan: talked about him here (its not positive)

//

nick: i just think hes a prick who doesn't deserve abi 🤷 of course he was given the short end of the stick in terms of screentime, but its kind of funny bc kaitlyn has a similar amount of Actual walk around time and she's there like. the entire game LMAO so yeah that pisses me off. nick has 3 moments where you play as him, and kaitlyn has 5/6, depending on how you separate her section in chapter 10. they both have the same amount of Get To Explore And Walk Around time though, which is a whopping total of one thanks guys. anywho. even before he began acting like a creep i didnt like him lol... and no surprise but it all stems from chapter 2...

long story short, i dont doubt that nick actually cares for abi and likes her but i think in the grand scheme of things it mostly has to do w/ him wanting tits and ass... sort of similar to mike's whole deal... and i believe this based on the bullshit he pulls w/ emma. yeah he says that "tHiS mIgHt NoT bE a GoOd IdEa" and yet he still plays along despite dylan saying that 2 people can kiss AS LONG AS everyone consents. he could've gotten out of the situation. and yet he fucking didnt. i dont care if he didnt realize the consequences of his actions, if he TRULY liked abi he wouldnt have done this shit in the first place. "ive had my moments, im not proud of some of the stuff ive done" DOG YOU JUST HAD A MOMENT AND YOURE NOT EVEN FUCKING APOLOGIZING TO THE PERSON YOU HURT!!!!!! idc if it technically wasnt totally his fault. he still was involved in humiliating and upsetting abi. all he blames it on is playing alonog with emma's plan to make jacob jealous and aside from that just being such a shitty anf fucked up excuse in general, its not even ???? true?????????? GOD. IM SORRY. THE WHOLE SITUATION MAKES ME SO UPSET

//

jacob: as said in my previous TQ / UD rankings... i really flip flop w/ him alot. however im def leaning towards neutral to dislike NGL. i HAAATED his whole thing w/ emma like incredibly so. however. i did feell real bad for him during chapter 1, despite already knowing that he was the one to bust the truck up and keep everyone there another night. i felt bad despite already having a reason TO dislike him. kaitlyn was being mean for no reason. nick and dylan were being mean for no reason. it's just... it's almost like he was being used as the group's laughing stock. but as time went on i just continually became less and less willing to sympathize . hell, he's just a INFINITELY less sympathetic josh... of course seeing him crying and upset in ch 3 was sad, but at this point i don't really know what he expected im sorry. he really dragged all these other people into his bullshit with emma. and it's more than clear how emma feels about their relationship, of course emma wasn't great either with him, but jacob isn't an angel ... EITHER in this situation. of COURSE he couldn’t have known that the night would go the way it does, but it doesn’t negate the fact that fucking up the truck was a shitty move regardless LMAO as said previously, i HAAATe how fucking possessive he is of her. like when nick tells jacob that he could see what emma wantss? and jacob just laughs it off? it's so fucking stupid dog. character wise though, he of course has a lot going for him and i can see why people find appeal in him. especially seeing hwo many stereotypes theyre subverting, in terms of jacob showing emotions and shit. but for me personally, it's a no

//

ryan: my man🤝 even after all this time.... i find him very respectable and i very much appreciate him. similar to my deal w/ abi, even his more "asshole-ish" moments / dialogue choices (aside from a few off the top of my head LOL) are like. justified... and in character... like. him being so pissed off at and wary of laura? like????? laura is my beloved but this random girl just popped out of nowhere, killed one of his closest friends, and now wants to kill what he has of a father figure? like yeah id be acting like ryan too if i were put into his situation LMAO yeah you can be annoyed w/ his actions and behavior, but in context? the way he's acting is understandable and justified. it doesnt DESERVE criticism, because there's nothing to criticize! he's acting as any normal person would! of COURSE it's annoying how he doesn't BELIEVE laura, that's a whole other can of worms, but overall he's allowed to be a pissed off little bitch. and him potentially going against the whole party idea? that line of dialogue is just more in character for him i will not accept any other answer. it makes no sense that he'd suddenly go against chris' word. and it PISSES ME OOOOFF seeing how the game still like ? has ryan show up to the party despite being adamant against it.

ANYWAY.... ppl don't appreciate his autistic swag like i do. "he has no character" "he's boring" TO YOU. y'all rly see a character mainly speak in a monotone voice and rarely smile / show expression and go. yeah he's boring . do you not see the like . connotations of that. like be for real. he’s like. one of the only few genuinely good ppl here lmao and seeing how chris says that ryan is one of his fave counselors and how he TRUSTS him enough to hold all this responsibility + have all these in depth talks w him it’s just. you see what kind of person ryan is just from that. and how so far ryan is the only character (while you’re in control) who’s able to interject whatever bullshit is being said at the moment it just. i’m sorry. he’s just a good guy. i respect how he’s willing to go against the bulk of the group during the whole party or lodge thing. i also respect that he’s willing to put a fucking end to dylan’s invasive fucked up truth question. i KNOW that it all depends on the Player to choose these specific options BUT. they just fit ryan’s character more so🤷 what can i say. fuck everyone else

//

max: my bf (real)

laura: my gf (real)

abi: me (irl)

//

emma: in my original note i said that i was leaning torwards neutral to dislike lmao....... oh have the turns havbe tabled. anywho. i think shes such a stupid dumbass bitch. she's so funny for no goddamn reason. i am shoving her down a flight of stairs. i love her character sooo much. i hate how she acted with jacob (despite most of it being her people pleaser side Showing but, that's a whole different conversation i am willing to have). she's suuuuch a beloved but gooooooood god i draw the line at being such a shitty friend to abi. that's my biggest complaint when it comes to emma and her actions. i understand that she has a moment where she's like "you're my best friend, i need you" and i fucking eat that shit up but almost everything else that happens and happens prior..... just goddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

to get started. most of this is gonna be nitpicky and personal shit, so if you think it's small and shouldn't be addressed, then you're probably right LOL im just ultra sensitive to this sort of stuff due to past personal experiences. ANYWAY!!!!!! you know the little teasy comment emma makes towards abi after you avoid hitting the squirrel? how she's like, "this is her first time asking a guy out like EVER"? it makes me wanna beat her up fr kldfggnfg bc it's like... it's not a thing to joke about... i see sooo much of myself in abi meaning i see her as autistic and that's just. you know how much being autistic hinders those sort of abilities? i obviously can't say for sure but, seeing how abi later talks about people wantingher to interact w/ others better? hence why she went to summer camp in the first place? i'd say that probably isn't too outrageous to think...

and sort of continuing off that same topic, when abi is having trouble choosing someone for truth or dare, how emma is just like. "ding ding ding, my turn!" LIKE. AS HER FRIEND. WHO PROBABLY KNOWS ABOUT HOW MUCH ABI STRUGGLES SOCIALLY. DON'T YOU THINK SHE'D BE LIKE? "OHH ABI JUST PICKK ME" INSTEAD OF HUMILIATING HER? LIKE. BC THERES SOOO MANY DIFF WAYS OF MOVING ON AND HELPING ABI OUT....... GOING ABOUT IT THW WAY EMMA DID ISN'T THE WAY TO GO......... ESPECIALLY KNNOWING HOW SOCIALLY ANXIOUS ABI IS.... anyway. while we're on the campfire scene, it's so fucked why she chooses to kiss nick lmao like ok yeah it may work in the end (potentially) but its still ?????????????? girl you know how much abi likes nick (SUPPOSEDLY) why go about this shit in the most destructive way possible? and what makes me even MORe mad is that. they dont even ever address this scene ever again???? despite it being such a huge and humiliating and probably traumatizing moment for abi??????????? YES they're able to have a more in depth andf heart to heart conversation about their relationship. but its not fucking enough! bc that fucking stupid ass dare and its outcome was the catalyst for the rest of the night's events lmao! imagine beign brushed aside and seen as a social fucking experiment for your entire life. which is something im SURE abi has felt and experienced. and emma, her best friend, LITERALLY CONTRIBUTES TO THAT!!!!!! ITS SO FUCKED AND IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY. i could probably go on about this topic but ill leabe it for a separate post i guess anyway if i were abi id be fucking pissed off and upset

her character means so very much to be like her whole people pleaser and "curate myself to each individual person ive ever met to keep them fromn leaving me" resonates so so much with me and i love it so much. ive talked about this b4 in a previous post but i can only imagine how lonely she feels, acting the way she acts. no one will ever truly know who she is. shes in a constant state of performance. every single person she's ever met has a different perception of her in their head. and, in one way or another, it's all wrong!!!! i love you emma mountebank i love you abigail blyg

//

kaitlyn: i wont even lie i instantly fell in love w her after hearing the INSANE shit she says fnsjfjsnf esp felt it after the “jacob go upstairs. jacob get bag. kaitlyn moves on with her goddamn life” fell in love fr. and her whole stupid monologue after jacob was like "yeah i mean, what did i expect would happen?" SHES LITERALLY INSANE. but. like. i was not and still Am not happy w how she treated abi during the campfire scene though. due to 1. her telling abi to basically hurry the fuck up despite seeing how much she was GENUINELY struggling, and also potentially knowing about her social struggles prior. bc they're friends. right? and 2. just coming up wiht the dare in general lol it was such a fucked up thing to do and as ive said w/ emma, the fact theyre unable to actually jhave a convo abt it later is suuuuper dumb and shitty imo. esp seeing just how upset abi got, and the most fucked up thing is, neither kaitlyn NOR emma seem to show any remorse for it!!!!! that's just so fucked up

anywho. hate how both of their asian girls (emily in until dawn) are characterized as bossy and very. my way or the highway. it’s actually real fucked up in that light. fuck you supermassive. y’all are lucky that these 2 characters are their respective games’ baddest bitches . i SUPPOSE it isn’t THAT as big of a deal in this game bc. there are like. objectively more unlikable characters (in the guys AND girls) so kaitlyn doesn’t stand out as much (as emily did. she was practically written to be hated. bc NO ONE ELSE was as strong personality wise as her. i suppose jess comes close but 1. i think ppl shit on her for other stupid shit anyway SO and 2. she effs off for more than half the game) but it still doesn’t make it ok lmao. bc it’s a trend that is very :/ mmmmmmm. even if it’s not that much of a cliche stereotype for asian women, seeing them write both of their asian girls ALMOST THE EXACT SAME WAY is a bit sussy goddamn baka. went off a bit there lmao. anyway. i’m a weak pussy bitch and after she softened after abi returned freaked out i 😭 i love you. more positive (and NON GUY related) interactions between the girlies please. i literally love her relationship w/ abi so much it's so interesting to me.

and just... to talk about her character real quick, i mmentioned in my tier list that her character frustrates me. and you wanna know why? ive talked abt this b4 but her character is basically a watered down emily davis. and i say this bc. they both overall are the same archetype. except. in kaitlyn's case. there's really no reason for me to like ???? feel bad for her? djjfggkj LIKE. THERE'S LITTLE TO NO SUBSTANCE TO HER CHARACTER.... AND THERE CERTAINLY ISNT MUCH TO FEEL SYMPATHETIC FOR..... i say this bc. almost all the other TQ characters have this moment of ): aw, here's why i should care about and feel bad for you. BUT KAITLYN????? NEVER REALLY OUTRIGHT HAS THAT MOMENT,..... it's almsot like they threw her in there and threw in her characteristics last second.... nothing's really established w/ her. you just. you just keeo finding new stuff about her as the game goes on. like. oh. shes a good shot. oh. she cares about abi. and shit like that. im probably explaining this so terribly rn but hopefully some sense can be made from this scramble. it's just.... thye toook away the interesting aspect(s) of emily'scharacter (her anxiety, her fear of death, her complex to be protected while being fully capable of protecting herslef in times of danger etc etc) and thus gave us kaitlyn. to me she just. she isnt that interesting character wise! there isnt much there for me to grow attached to! people only like her bc shes associated w/ dylan! like shes one of those characters where you sort of HAVE to mold and shape into something that's familiar and Good

re reading htis it really sounds like i don't like her fdjkdg BUT I DO I PROMISE.... i gotta stick w/ my asian girls

//

abi but for real: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 do i even need to say anything? its like supermassive made a character purposely JessCore or something like that. i like. haven’t gone In Depth abt why i got so fucked up over what everyone else did to her during the camp fire scene but. know that it hit a little toooooo fucking close to home. like. I Could See Me Sitting There In Abi’s Spot and it HUUUUUUURT!!!!!!!!!!!! like ): seeing her avert her gaze and how she was fumbling over her words i ))): LIKE. AUGHH. esp after being asked THAT question? since not sleeping w/ anyone by this age is seen as “abnormal”? i could feel that so bad man ): no one deserves to be singled out like that. esp not a VERY much autistic girl who is pretty clear to be on the “outside” of the group. bc she’s not “normal” or not “like everyone else here” and it’s just. fuck you all fr choke. enough of that. i just. she’s so fucking cute too? like girl i love you so MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! her lil like. expressive noises and shit are so awesome and make me happy fnsjfjsf you only see them like twice BUT. you don’t really see that from the other characters. so basically: stims. autism. yeah. they rly made abi a little TOO realistic nd relatable fnsjfnnsf but ohhhh man do i love her oh so much. after the camp fire scene i was just. she’s my friend now fuck all of you

//

laura but for real: I MISSED HER AND MAX SOOOOO BAD WHILE PLAYING THROUGH CHAPTERS 1 - 6 SKLDDFJDF i was literally so upset and sad seeing that they werent at camp after the prologue. du eto like literallty all of the characters getting on my nerves I WANTED THEM TO COME HOME SOOOO BAD.... AFTER THE CAMP FIRE SCENE EVERYTHING WENT DOWNHILL AND I MIIISSSEED THEM SOO MUCH i needed them back for real. other than that though, i dont have much to say about laura. i mean of course she's my BELOVED i mean look at my user but. yeah! i think about her often and project some anger shit onto her<3 specifically towards travis for specific and personal reasons<3 even if it's not like character stuff or w/e i think about, i often just rotate herin my mind. i love her so much. plus she's literally a combo of emily and sam aka my 2 fave UD characters how could i not love her?

//

max but for real: i honestly dont have much to say abt him? and i suppose he and laura arent /technically/ a part of the other counselors since they never, yk, showed up. but w/e fdfjgndg i think he's neat. i honestly thought he was like one of the only Good Guys of the game when first playing through,. and that still holds true! i still see ryan as a great guy too though. max just seems like such a good partner and guy in general and i love him. don't necessarily think about him much but as i said before, he's my bf (real)

[bonesandthebees]

OH GOD ITS THIS CHAPTER (5) OH GOD OH FUCKSHFKGKF

I remember this chapter caught me SO OFF guard, i wasnt expecting the angst to be so intense /pos goddd this chapter is so good

Another eerie parallel of hats and my life is my aunt gifted me tarot cards, and we spoke a lot about tarot when i went to visit her, wild

Apparently her mom used to do tarot but then she predicted her best friend's death so she stopped 🧍‍♂️ LIKE??!?! MY AUNT JUST DROPPED THAT ON ME AND CHANGED THE TOPIC LIKE HELLOOO GO BACK WDYM UR MOM PREDICTED SOMEONES DEATH?!??!?@?

Shits wild, she ALSO told me some hella spooky irl ghost stories

Also lmfao i love hats tubbo sm, hes so iconic

I LOVE WILBUR SO MUCH

HES SUCHHHH AN OLDER BROTHER SOBS CRIES WAILS

SCREAMS

*SCREAMS*

I FORGOT HE ALMOST SLIPS UP OHMYGOD OHGMDYDOHGKDYFI

OIHDHDJDJD

HE LOVES HIM SO MUCH:(( HE LOVES HIM SOOOO MUCH BROISHFODUEOF 😭😭😭 THIS FIC MAKES ME SO ILL MAN SO ILL

It is crazy how accurate tarot can get like bruh... whenever i do it the cards themselves align with each other so well, to the point where sometimes they'll literally say the same thing 😭 out of the 60 plus cards in my deck i somehow chose the two that say the same thing, wild (i dont have an exact tarot deck, it's a spiritual oracle one but still cool :D

EUEUEUEU i love thr reading sm

I love how immediately after the cards call tommy out for not talking to Phil, he runs into him 😭😭 its so funny i love it sm

HEJRKFIGJDGEKFJFJDD OHMYGOD WE'RE AT THE SCENE OHMYGODDHDKGKF

I remember being so jumpscared by the amount of adrenaline this scene gave me like ??? Bro its a slice of life movie, Why do i feel like im fearing for my LIFE /pos THE ADRENALINE IS SO MUCH FUN I LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH ITS SOOFOGOSJGKGK AAAAA ABDKGKGNDKDJKGKGMFBRJGNFNFKGMNF I CANT EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC

THIS IS SO AWKWARD [SCREAMS] OHMYGODDD

I love tubbo:( all of them are so supportive

This is the most fucking awkward conversation 😭😭

GODDD I CANTTT HE WIDPFIFKF THE MISCOMMUNICATION HURTS SJFOGIGJTN AAAAA SOBSSS

Wilbur caLLED PHIL DAD OHMYGOD NOBODY MOVE BEE SANDDUO OHMGYFOHMGYDPHLHUDHSFODIAHEFODUODFJKFKDJEOTJDJFKGKF IM SO WEAK AND FRAIL AAAAAAA

SGFKFUSORHSKFJJFJDB ABDKAVJRBSJDBSKSBRKSN

SLAMS FIST ON DESK

CRIMEBOYS

THEYRJEOSOSOSUDKSDIFJFK THEYRE A9DOOOSODJFDLFJ I CANT I CANT OHMUGODUDHDOWHRIDJ

HES SOOOO FOND OHMYGOD

Tommys such a little shit shfkgkfkf a clever one but still shfkgkglf

THIS FIC IS SO GOOODOFJFLGKDHSJFKF

THE HUG, IM SCREAMING

God i am not ready for the next few chapters

LMAO ngl I don't know how your aunt's mom could've predicted someones death when that's not really what tarot does (at least to my knowledge) but uhh idk I don't do it myself so who knows

tangerines crimeboys make me so ill you dont understand aaaaa wilbur wants to be a supportive older brother but also doesn't wanna push too hard and make tommy uncomfortable bc tommy was so young the last time they were siblings and just gahhh

I'm actually very much a skeptic of all those kinds of things tarot included, and I view tarot as more of a self reflective tool than anything else, but yeah it can definitely feel scarily accurate at times. the few times friends have done readings for me sometimes they say something insanely close to what i'm dealing with in my life and I'm just like OH

lol yeah ngl I was like "do I really want them to run into phil right after this tarot card reading" but I didn't want to put it off for another chapter bc the setup was just too convenient so I was like oh well it'll be plot convenience

it was SUCH an awkward conversation god all the interactions between tommy and phil in this fic are so tense

crimeboys <333 tommy using being drunk as an excuse to get a hug we love to see it

[vcutparis]

good lord. rubs chest in consolation. good lord.

SO MANY FEELINGS SO MANY THOUGHTS. NO PERFECT STRUCTURE THEY'RE JUST INCOHERENT BABBLES. I WANT TO SPEAK OR I'LL COMBUST IN THIN AIR LIKE CONFETTI

i have no complaints with ending it's all part of the grand scheme BUT how i wish like joong, how i WISH he wouldve GOTTEN THOSE HUGS AND KISSES FOREVER. (there's always an evil eye in everyone's relationship AND BRO HOW I WISH TO GAUGE THAT EYE RIGHT NOW. (drops to knees and howls in pain) mingi...boy im sorry captain ate you up, why was he literally outside his bedroom GSHJNFNJKFM????? SIR GTFO

smh this was mingi, but from the description of his part i believe boy is going through his own grief and turmoil. so excused. MY JJONG BOY!!!! LITERALLY THE ANCHOR IN EVERY SCENE!!!!! BIG HUGS FOR MY GUY. best part? hongjoong's injury marks being scratches of desperation. idk i just like the thought behind it? it's certainly unique and a scar to actually hide(?) injuries full of desperation to live, the same ones his mother clawed the same arms for. absolutely loved how you described the change in each character's gazes. your utmoust detail to eyes warms me because UGHGFHF im a sucker for eyes. i LOVE LOVE LOVE IT. hwa giving the best advices to cap joong, oh i love my matz dynamic. never separate my matz when it's angst. genuinely ngl i was expecting much more cruel ending but thank YOU. TRINKETS FOR LOVED ONES???? BABY THAT'S THE BEST THING YOU CAN GIVE TO SOMEONE. my eyelashes were heavy with the tears. you explored joong's emotions well, enough to be atleast be justified in a reader's head. my heart really really melted when he couldnt even say sorry to her passed out self and proceeded to clean her tote bag....like that's the core essence of my joong 😭thats my joong 😭😭😭😭😭 oh god every moment felt so genuine i wanted to rip out my heart and give it to them. LIKE damn just take another heart and love each other more. this wasnt the normal case of stockholm syndrome and OH LORD OH LORD WHEN he begged and was in disbelief.....i

"anything you want. it's yours." jesus christ. i hyperventilated eyes rolled back almost ascended to heaven. IS THIS A MAFIA LEADER? OFFERING HIS PRESSED MARIGOLD FLOWER BOOKMARK? GRRRRRRRR THIS GRADUAL REDEMPTION ARC clawing my walls as i frantically heave, my snot and tears mixed running down my chin. all of thi probably wont make sense BUT I HAVE!!!! TO TALK!!!! looking for any glimpse us in the halls, like SIR THAT'S A CRUSH UR FEELING CMON my softie captain feeding chicken soup! changing our bandages! mama....i almost dressed up as a wedding pastor and wished to be teleported to that exact scene (too extreme nvm) im intrigued by the said man cheering on my beloved like that BUT mhm lets begin the game! THE LAST DINNER TOGETHER AND THE WALK AT NIGHT OH DUDE....I WILL ALWAYS EAT UP A QUIET WALK IN NATURE IN FANFICS LIKE FUCK CANDLELIGHT DINNERS, LET ME MERGE SOULS WITH MY BELOVED AMONGST NATURE AND MOON AS OUR SOLE WITNESS. The roughness of his palm contrasted sharply with the fragility of the charm as you placed it gently into his hand. His fingers curled around it instinctively, the same hand that once had only known destruction now cradling something so delicate with utmost care.

"good treat it with care" "you made it all right, joong."

i wish i could let this fic marinate in my head for a while but if i did i would burst out crying. GIVE ME MY BOY EVERYTHING!!!! FUCK WHOEVER THAT MAN IS DOING (he's doing something right maybe? but ZONT. ZONT PLEASE.)

01. The Captain — By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

Pairing: gang leader!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Word Count: 18.1k

Summary: The Captain of the Black Pirates—respected, feared, and unmatched in strategy—lives by his sharp mind and unshakable resolve. But his carefully constructed world begins to crumble when a grave mistake leads him to torture an innocent suspect nearly to death. Haunted by guilt, his quest for redemption takes an unexpected turn, awakening a part of him he never thought existed: a desire to protect and care for someone.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, abuse, blood, scars, mentions of murder and SA, language, contains dark themes in general

SERIES MASTERLIST | ATEEZ MASTERLIST

The dim glow of lantern light flickered across the room as the gang leader held the letter between his fingers, turning it over with a scrutinising gaze. His brow arched slightly, the ivory wax seal bearing the unmistakable insignia of the White Serpents—a gang notorious for their cunning and deception, their pristine image masking venomous intent. Silent but deadly, serpents poised to strike. And Hongjoong knew them well.

"Well?" His voice was calm, almost amused, as he studied the coded message in his hand.

Yunho exhaled sharply with a shake of his head, frustration etched across his face. "She's stubborn. Won't admit to a thing. Twenty-four hours, and still nothing."

The Captain's smirk widened, dark amusement playing in his eyes. "Really? Even with this treacherous letter in her possession?" He tapped the envelope lightly. "Twenty-four hours… that's impressive. No dog has ever lasted that long." His tone was laced with mock intrigue. "Perhaps she's an especially loyal one. How interesting."

He leaned back, nodding toward the heavy iron doors leading to the basement, his voice low and confident. "A tough one to crack, no doubt. But they all crack… eventually." The distant echo of chains rattling and the creak of the doors opening sent a chill through the air. The game had only just begun.

Let's see just how long you can last.

The room was dim, suffocating in its silence, the air thick with tension and the metallic scent of damp stone. Your breath hitched as consciousness clawed its way back, and the cold, unforgiving chill bit at your drenched skin. You blinked through the sting of icy water clinging to your lashes, your trembling gaze rising to meet the source of the voice that shattered the oppressive stillness.

"Congratulations, miss!" The sudden, mocking boom made you flinch, fear coiling tighter around your chest. "You're the first to last a full day in these chambers. How very impressive!"

The man before you was smaller than the one who had been 'questioning' you earlier—a tall, lanky figure whose blows you could still feel—but this one's presence was far more terrifying. Cold authority radiated from him, his smile a twisted mockery of warmth. He stepped closer, his sharp eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "I trust my boys have treated you well."

A shiver tore through you, body wracked with uncontrollable tremors—whether from the bitter cold or the malice in his voice, you couldn't tell. His grin widened, and the false politeness only made it worse. "Fear not, my lady," he purred, his tone soft and deadly. "I'll treat you even better… until you decide to be honest, of course."

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, despair crashing over you. You tried to shake your head, but your body was too weak and cold to offer feeble resistance. And yet, you knew—this was only the beginning.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you wished for the thousandth—no, the millionth—time that this was all a nightmare. The cold seeped into your bones, but it wasn't just the chill that made you tremble. It was the gnawing fear, the hopelessness that clung to you like a second skin.

How did it come to this?

You replayed the events over and over in your mind, searching for an answer, but all you found was confusion. Just a day or two ago, you had been weaving through the bustling port, arms laden with imported goods for your employer. The crowded streets were alive with noise—merchants shouting, sailors hauling cargo, smugglers slipping through the shadows. You had only wanted to return to work, unaware that fate had already marked you.

Then it happened. A sharp turn into an alley. The sudden grip of rough hands. Black-clothed men cornering you like wolves circling their prey, eyes sharp and merciless. Their accusations—espionage, treachery—made no sense. You tried to explain, voice trembling, but they didn't listen. Not until they tore through your belongings and fished out a letter—one you had never seen before.

The blow came swiftly, a fist to your face, and the world went dark.

Now, here you were. Broken. Bleeding. Trapped in a nightmare you couldn't escape.

"P-please… I d-don't know who the Wh-white Serpents are," you stammered, forcing your swollen eye open to meet the man who seemed to command the room, his presence suffocating. "I s-swear…"

Hongjoong's tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his irritation barely concealed behind a mask of feigned calm. "You know," he said, his voice laced with a dangerous softness, "I was really hoping you wouldn't say that again." He exhaled in a mock sigh, his patience wearing thin. "Now you've left me no choice."

With deliberate steps, he moved toward the glowing embers at the far side of the room. The fire crackled, and your breath hitched when he wrapped his hand around a hot branding iron, its tip glowing ominously.

No, please...

Panic surged through you, and tears spilt uncontrollably down your cheeks. You didn't even have the strength to sob anymore. You could only watch in frozen terror as he turned back, the iron in his grasp radiating heat and menace.

"Come on," he cooed, voice deceptively gentle. "I'd really hate to ruin such pretty skin. All you have to do is be a good girl—tell me what this blasted letter says. Tell me the name of your boss." His grin was sharp, dangerous, but beneath it, you sensed his patience was threadbare.

The White Serpents. The name alone ignited his fury. Their faces were always hidden, their identities a mystery. Even their leader remained a ghost, a phantom in white. And that infuriated him more than anything—an enemy he couldn't see, couldn't predict.

And now, you were his only lead.

The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his frustration. The dim light flickered over the cold stone walls, shadows dancing like spectres of every soul that had suffered here before you. His grip on the branding iron tightened, the metal searing hot in his hand, glowing with menace. He didn't want to take this step—truly, he didn't. But the memory of how they found you replayed in his mind, solidifying his certainty.

You were guilty. You had to be.

He clenched his jaw, recalling the chaos at the port. The Black Pirates were in the midst of a crucial covert operation, tensions strung taut like a wire. They had been waiting for the White Serpents to make a move, for the elusive spy to slip through their defences. The streets were crowded, the perfect cover for deception.

Then there was you.

A simple girl, or so it seemed, navigating the busy market with unsuspecting ease. Unbeknownst to you, the real spy—the one they had been hunting—moved silently through the crowd. In a calculated move, the informant slipped the coded letter into your bag and vanished into the sea of bodies before anyone could catch him.

Hongjoong's men, sharp-eyed and vigilant, saw the handoff. They reacted swiftly, believing they had caught the elusive spy. You were cornered in the alley, fear etched across your face as you begged for understanding, your confusion only cementing their suspicions. The letter was damning enough. Evidence was evidence, and the Captain trusted his crew's intelligence.

But now, staring at you—broken, trembling, tears staining your bruised cheeks—he felt the edges of his certainty fraying. You persisted in your pleas, clinging to innocence with a desperation that should have crumbled by now. And yet… you hadn't.

"Last chance, woman," he said coldly, his voice like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. The heat from the iron radiated, the threat palpable. "There will be no going back from here. I'm sure you know that."

He meant the words as a warning for you, a final offer before he left mercy behind. But deep down, perhaps they were a warning for himself, too—a foreshadowing he didn't yet grasp.

You shook your head weakly, trembling from exhaustion and terror. Still no confession. Still the same maddening persistence.

Hongjoong raised the branding iron, holding it close to your battered face. His eyes burned with something dangerous, something teetering between anger and frustration.

"Well then," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, the finality in his tone sealing your fate—or so he thought.

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The air in the torture chamber hung heavy with the acrid stench of scorched flesh, mingling with the damp chill of the stone walls. His cold, calculating gaze never wavered as he watched you, unconscious and crumpled on the floor, your body trembling even in unconsciousness. The mark of the Black Pirates seared into your back, raw and angry, a testament to the brutality you'd endured.

"That'll scar for life," one of his men muttered, a mix of awe and amusement in his voice.

Hongjoong let out a low, humourless chuckle, his eyes dark with unrelenting resolve. "For life?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "How optimistic. I doubt she'll live long enough to see the next sunrise if she continues to be this stubborn."

His voice was void of emotion, laced with a chilling indifference that sent a shiver through even the most hardened of his men. He didn't enjoy this—not exactly—but he had no patience for weakness. If you wouldn't talk, you were nothing but a liability, and liabilities were dealt with swiftly.

He turned away for a moment, tossing the branding iron back into the fire with a careless flick of his wrist. Embers exploded in every direction, but he paid them no mind. "We've wasted enough time on her," he said, voice cold and final. "If she doesn't confess after this, end it. Finish her."

The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a death sentence. One of the guards nodded, his expression stoic. "Of course, boss."

Hongjoong motioned toward the bucket of dirty water beside you, its murky surface rippling with the slightest movement. "Wake her," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy, anticipating the agony that would soon follow.

The guard lifted the bucket with ease, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he approached. Without hesitation, he tilted it, the filthy water cascading over your battered body. The moment the contaminated water hit your wounds, especially the fresh burn, your body convulsed violently.

A scream ripped from your throat, raw and guttural, piercing through the oppressive stillness. It wasn't the kind of scream that came from fear—it was the sound of pure, unfiltered agony.

The Captain didn't flinch. He stood tall, arms crossed, watching with a detached curiosity as you writhed on the floor. "That's better," he muttered, almost to himself. "Now, let's see if you're ready to talk."

He crouched down beside you, his face an unreadable mask. "Final chance," he said softly, almost tenderly, as if mocking your suffering. "Who sent you?" His voice dipped lower, dangerously calm. "Or would you prefer to die in this filth, unloved and forgotten?"

The only response was the ragged sound of your breath, broken sobs wracking your body. His patience was wearing thin, and though he was a man known for his control, he was ready to end this.

A shuddering breath escaped your lips, each gasp searing through your lungs like fire. The icy water clung to your battered body, every drop seeping into your open wounds, amplifying the unbearable pain. Your vision blurred, the dim room spinning into shadows and smoke, but you clung to the fragments of your thoughts, the last remnants of who you were.

This is it, you thought, the realisation settling over you with a strange, hollow calm. This is how it ends.

You didn't know why these monsters had dragged you into their nightmare, why they believed you were a spy. You didn't understand the cruel fate that had brought you here, only that it had. And now, there was no escape. The man before you, with his cold eyes and cruel smirk, had made that clear.

Your body trembled violently, not from the cold but from the acceptance creeping into your heart. Death will be a mercy, you thought. Better this than more agony.

Closing your eyes, you let the numbness wash over you, a strange kind of peace taking root beneath the layers of fear. You thought of your friends—the laughter shared over simple joys. You thought of your family, their faces blurred by memory but still holding warmth. And you thought of your employer, the one person who had seen worth in you when the world turned away. You prayed they would not grieve too long. You prayed they would find solace.

I'll watch over them, you promised silently. From wherever I'm going.

The wet, acrid air filled your lungs, heavy and suffocating. Every second stretched into eternity, and you waited for the final blow, the one that would release you. Your heartbeat slowed, the frantic rhythm giving way to a dull, distant echo.

And then, the room grew deathly quiet.

Hongjoong remained crouched, studying you, his iron grip on control unwavering. He didn't speak immediately, and that was almost worse. The silence pressed down, a suffocating weight, as if the world was holding its breath.

"Still nothing?" His voice was soft now, eerily gentle, like a predator savouring the last moments before the kill.

You didn't respond. Couldn't. There was nothing left to say. You were ready for the end.

And then, with a slow exhale, you heard him murmur almost to himself, "What a shame."

The gang leader let out a long, slow breath, his head shaking slightly, a humourless smile curving his lips. His eyes lingered on your broken form, slumped over, trembling and soaked, but utterly still, as if you had already crossed into death's grasp. Your eyes fluttered shut, the last spark of defiance extinguished. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet, dusting off his coat with deliberate care, and with a curt nod, gestured toward his men.

"Finish it."

The words were cold and final, slicing through the room like a blade. One of the guards stepped forward, the metallic click of his gun cocking echoing in the dim space, followed by the low scrape of his boot on the wet floor. Hongjoong turned his back on you, jaw tight, waiting for the shot to ring out, waiting for the moment to pass so he could move on from this wasted effort.

But then— footsteps. Quick and urgent, echoing down the stone stairway.

"Wait."

The voice was calm but firm, cutting through the tension like a sudden gust of wind. The room froze, the guard's finger hovering over the trigger as all eyes turned toward the stairs. Yeosang emerged from the shadows, his usual cool composure replaced by something unsettled. His sharp gaze darted toward your barely conscious form before locking onto his captain, his face unreadable, but his unease unmistakable.

Hongjoong's brow lifted in mild curiosity, though his patience was wearing thin. "What is it, Yeo?" he asked, voice clipped as the Phantom strode forward, his expression grave.

Yeosang leaned in close, his voice low but firm as he murmured something into the gang leader's ear, too quiet for the others to hear. Whatever he said, it landed like a blow. Hongjoong's entire posture shifted. His jaw clenched, his fists curling and uncurling at his sides as he processed the whispered words.

The room held its collective breath.

After what felt like an eternity, the Captain straightened, his eyes dark with a new kind of frustration, though there was no mistaking the glimmer of something else—regret? Anger? It was impossible to tell.

His voice, when it came, was sharp and decisive. "Release her."

The room erupted in a flurry of confusion, but no one dared question him. The guard with the gun hesitated for only a second before lowering it, stepping back. Another moved to untie the chains binding your wrists, the cold iron clattering to the floor as your limp body crumpled forward.

Hongjoong's gaze never wavered, his face carved from stone as he watched you collapse. His men obeyed without question, though their confusion was palpable, the tension still thick in the air.

As you slumped to the ground, barely conscious, he let out another breath, slow and controlled, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Take her to the infirmary," he commanded, voice icy but steady. "And keep her alive."

His men exchanged uncertain glances but quickly moved to obey, lifting your frail body with care as they carried you out. He remained rooted, his eyes lingering on the bloodstained floor, his fists clenched once more as Yeosang watched him silently.

"I hope for your sake," Hongjoong muttered under his breath, "this wasn't a mistake."

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The heavy oak door to his office slammed shut behind him, the echo reverberating through the grand but cold space. Hongjoong paced across the dimly lit room, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls, but offering no warmth. His hand shook slightly as he poured another shot of whiskey, the amber liquid splashing over the rim. He didn't care. He downed it in one swift motion, the burn doing little to drown the bile rising in his throat.

Wrong person.

His brother's words replayed in his mind like a curse, each syllable a dagger to his pride.

"Hyung, we got the wrong person. She's not the spy—the real one escaped. This woman was just... there. A scapegoat."

He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The whiskey glass slammed down on the desk, the sharp crack of glass against wood making his men just outside the door flinch. But none dared to enter. They knew better.

His fists balled at his sides, trembling with suppressed rage—at Yeosang, at his crew, at himself. The sight of your bloodied form flashed in his mind, the raw agony in your voice as he pressed the searing iron into your skin. He could still hear the echoes of your pleas, the desperate, broken words you had whispered over and over: I'm not who you think I am... please...

He should have known.

How could he have missed it? The way you had looked at him, not with defiance or guilt but with pure, unfiltered fear and confusion. He was Kim Hongjoong, the Captain of the Black fuckin' Pirates—his instincts had never failed him before. Yet this time, he had been blinded by rage, by the need for control, and it had led him to commit an unforgivable mistake.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the desk, the polished surface groaning under the strain. No amount of wealth or power in this city could erase the image of your battered, broken body lying on the cold floor. The branded mark he had burned into your back would scar, not just on your skin but in his mind, forever.

The Black Pirates were ruthless, yes, but not reckless. Innocents were not meant to be collateral unless there was no other choice. This... this was different. It was unacceptable.

He let out a low, bitter laugh, hollow and laced with self-loathing. "How could this happen?" he muttered to no one, his voice cracking. "I'm the one who doesn't make mistakes."

But this was a mistake. A fatal one, if Yeosang hadn't intervened.

The storm inside him raged on, unrelenting. No amount of whiskey could drown it, no fire could warm the cold knot in his chest. For the first time in years, Kim Hongjoong felt something foreign and unwelcome searing through him.

Regret.

He sank into the leather chair behind his desk, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His hands covered his face, shaking as if he could scrub away the guilt, the shame. But it was branded on him now, just as deeply as the mark he had scorched into your skin.

After what felt like hours, he remained in his office, standing by the window, the golden light of the waning sun casting a sharp contrast against the deep shadows in the room. His gaze pierced through the glass, locking onto the tall, black gates of their mansion—gates that symbolised power, control, and security. Yet today, they felt like bars of a prison. He imagined how those gates must have looked to you, cold and foreboding, as you were dragged inside, far from the life you knew, thrust into a nightmare you hadn't earned.

He clenched his jaw, fists curling at his sides as the weight of his guilt continued to press down on him. One mistake. One mistake. That's all it had taken to bring you here. A mistake from his men, from him, and it had led to your torture. His throat tightened as those cruel memories clawed at him: your ragged pleas, your broken body, and worst of all, his voice—cold, detached, ruthless—demanding answers you didn't have.

Remorse surged through him, an agonising tide that refused to ebb. His own words echoed in his mind, venomous and unforgiving: "Be a good girl and tell us what this blasted letter says." His stomach twisted, the taste of bile bitter on his tongue.

He turned away from the window, squeezing his eyes shut as he clutched his head, fingers digging into his scalp as if the pain could drown out the memories. But it only intensified the haunting vision that consumed him: his mother's lifeless eyes, staring into nothingness, wide with fear and betrayal. She had died for nothing—used, discarded, and left to rot by men who saw her as collateral damage. All for debts that weren't hers to pay.

He had been just a boy—useless and powerless—as he watched her lifeblood seep into the dirt, all because of his degenerate father, who had left them behind with nothing but mountains of debt. The loan sharks had spared him, a mistake they didn't live to regret. Hongjoong had spent years rising from the ashes of that helpless child, becoming the monster who hunted monsters, the leader who swore to tear down anyone who preyed on the innocent.

Yet now, here he was, no different from the men who had taken his mother from him.

He slammed a fist onto the desk, the sharp crack splitting the heavy silence. His breathing was ragged, uneven, as his mind spiralled into the past. He had sworn not to harm the innocent.

But he had failed. He had repeated the very sin that had shaped him.

They weren't heroes. The Black Pirates were thieves, smugglers, outlaws. But they lived by one code: never harm those who didn't deserve it. They stole from the corrupt, the greedy, those who exploited the powerless. They were not saviours, but they were not supposed to be butchers either.

And now, because of his blindness, you lay broken and scarred—an innocent woman caught in the crossfire of his rage.

His hands trembled as he dragged them through his hair, staring blankly at the dark wood beneath him. His reflection in the glass across the room looked unfamiliar—haunted, lost, and consumed by a regret that would never fade.

How can I ever make this right?

The oppressive silence in the room was broken by a familiar deep voice, one he always sought when the weight of leadership became too much. "She's stable," Seonghwa said, his tone calm yet sombre.

Hongjoong exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, relief flooding through him like a tide that couldn't quite wash away the guilt. "Stable," he echoed, the word offering little solace.

His brother stepped closer, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound between them. "They've patched her up... but I don't think some of the scars will ever go away." His voice dipped into something quieter, almost apologetic. "Especially not that mark."

The gang leader winced, his fingers tightening into trembling fists. The brand—his brand—seared into her back, a permanent testament to his cruelty. "The mark," he muttered, voice hoarse with regret. "She'll carry it because of me."

Seonghwa leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms, watching him with a measured gaze. "Because of us," he corrected, though the words offered no comfort. "But this isn't like you. You don't make mistakes like this."

Hongjoong let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "And yet, I did. I fucked up. She begged, Hwa." His voice cracked, raw and ragged. "She begged, and I didn't listen."

The eldest's face softened, but he didn't look away. "Regret is pointless if it doesn't drive change," he said quietly. "We can't undo what's been done. But maybe... maybe we can still make it right."

Hongjoong looked up, his eyes hollow but desperate. "How?"

Seonghwa met his gaze, steady and unwavering. "By giving her a choice. Her freedom. Protection if she wants it. You can't erase the scars, but you can make sure she's never harmed again."

The Captain's jaw clenched. "And if she wants nothing from us? If she wants nothing to do with the Black Pirates?"

"Then you let her go," Seonghwa replied simply, his voice steady. "With the assurance that she'll never have to fear us again."

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tension coiling in his shoulders. "I don't deserve forgiveness."

"No," the Gentleman agreed softly, his voice firm but kind. "But it's not about what you deserve. It's about what she does."

The words hung in the air, heavier than any weapon, cutting deeper than any blade.

Hongjoong dragged his hands through his hair, the tremor in them betraying the turmoil within. "Tell them to keep her comfortable," he whispered, voice barely audible. "And... let me know when she wakes up."

Seonghwa inclined his head, moving toward the door but paused before stepping out. "You may never forgive yourself, Joong," he said, his voice softer now, "but that doesn't mean you can't try to do better."

As the door clicked shut behind him, the leader was left alone with the echoes of his guilt—and the faintest, most fragile glimmer of hope.

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The quiet hum of the infirmary filled the air, broken only by the soft rustle of sheets and the faint crackle of the oil lamp on the bedside table. Hongjoong stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes locked on your still form lying on the cot. The sight twisted something deep inside him, the sharp pang of guilt slicing through him once again.

"Hyung?" Jongho's voice pulled him from his reverie, soft but laced with surprise. "Why are you here?" His brows knitted together in confusion as he stepped closer. "Seonghwa hyung said to only inform you when she's awake. She's not—"

The gang leader cut him off with a subtle shake of his head. "I had to see if she's okay... for myself." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "You're dismissed. I'll take over."

Jongho hesitated, his eyes searching his leader's face, filled with concern and something unspoken. "Hyung..."

"I won't..." Hongjoong's voice faltered, his throat tightening. "I won't hurt her any further, Jongho."

The youngest sighed softly, the tension in the room heavy between them. "That's not what I—"

"I know," Hongjoong interrupted, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. "It's fine. Just... go thank the doctor for me."

Jongho lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on the Captain's worn expression. Finally, he gave a respectful bow of his head. "I'll be nearby if you need me."

With that, the Anchor left, the door clicking softly shut behind him, leaving Hongjoong alone with the stillness once more.

He stepped forward, the floor creaking beneath his boots, and sank into the chair beside the bed. His hands trembled as he clasped them together, resting them on his knees. He could barely bring himself to look at you, the bandages wrapped around your body stark against your pale skin, the ghost of the agony he had inflicted still lingering in the air.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words breaking like fragile glass. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

The apology felt hollow, inadequate, but it was all he had. He sat there, staring at you, hoping that somehow, even in sleep, you might hear him. But the only response was the steady rise and fall of your chest, the rhythmic proof that you were alive.

Alive, but not whole.

He leaned back, his head tipping against the wall, the weight of everything crushing down on him. For the first time in years, Kim Hongjoong—the feared Captain of the Black Pirates—felt utterly powerless.

His eyes, unwilling to linger any longer on the bandages covering your wounded body, drifted downward. There, beneath the cot, something caught his attention. A crumpled, dirt-streaked tote bag sat neglected, its once vibrant fabric marred by careless fingerprints—his men's fingerprints.

He furrowed his brows and leaned forward, retrieving the bag with careful hands as if it might break apart at any moment. The stitching was amateur but charming, the drawings simple yet endearing. Scrawled in bright, cheerful lettering at the centre were the words Marigold Gift Shop.

It looked so out of place here in the dim and sterile infirmary, like a splash of sunlight drowning in shadow.

He set the bag on his lap and gently pried it open. The contents were jumbled, chaotic, but it was clear that everything inside once held meaning. Trinkets, small souvenirs from the port—a handful of seashells, a hand-painted keychain, and a delicate glass charm in the shape of a flower. These were not the belongings of a spy.

He reached deeper and pulled out a tiny notebook, its edges worn from use. His fingers brushed over the cover before flipping it open. The pages were filled with neat, dainty handwriting—simple lists:

Small wooden carvings

Candles (lavender & sea breeze)

Handmade bookmarks

Seashell jewellery

It wasn't just a list of purchases—it was a routine, mundane, innocent.

Hongjoong's throat constricted, and his hands trembled as the realisation struck him anew: you had been working. You had been on an errand for your job at the Marigold Gift Shop when they dragged you into their nightmare.

His vision blurred, his breath catching in his chest.

You had no idea who they were. No idea what danger you had stumbled into. You were just there, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it cost you everything.

Hongjoong squeezed the notebook shut, resting it against his forehead as though it could somehow absolve him of the crushing guilt. People must be looking for you—your friends, your family, your employer. The ones who had sent you on this errand, trusting you would return safely.

And now, what could he give them? A broken, scarred version of the vibrant soul they had lost. How could he face them? How could he return you to them like this?

He sat in silence, the only sound in the room the steady rhythm of your breathing and the occasional drip of water from the infirmary's ceiling. His gaze lingered on the crumpled tote bag resting on his lap, its cheerful colours muted beneath the grime. His fingers traced the fabric absentmindedly before he noticed the bucket of clean water and a spare rag near your cot.

For reasons he didn't fully understand, he stood and reached for the rag, dipping it into the water. The cloth came away damp and cool, and he squeezed out the excess with slow, deliberate movements. It was a strange sight—Kim Hongjoong, feared leader of the Black Pirates, bent over a bag, carefully wiping away the dirt and grime.

He worked in silence, the world narrowing to this singular task. Each stroke of the rag against the fabric felt like an apology he couldn't utter aloud. Slowly, painstakingly, he cleaned the tote, rubbing away the stains until the bright colours began to peek through again. The cheerful drawings and stitched patterns reemerged, fragile yet resilient beneath the care of his steady hands.

Piece by piece, he began to arrange your belongings. The trinkets were cleaned and carefully set back in place—each seashell, the delicate glass flower charm, the hand-painted keychain. He smoothed out the tiny notebook, the pages no longer crumpled but straightened with the same precision he reserved for the most critical of plans.

As he worked, he felt a strange lightness settle over him. He hadn't noticed the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips until it faded, replaced by the weight of reality as his gaze shifted back to you.

The bag, now pristine, sat neatly on the table beside you, a quiet testament to his care—a care no one, not even his brothers, had seen in years.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at you, at the bandages wrapped around your broken body, and the regret clawed at his chest again. His smile had vanished entirely, replaced by the grim determination that only guilt could bring.

How could he make this right? How could he even begin? Would you ever be able to forgive him, or himself, for what he had done?

The questions lingered unanswered in the stillness as he sat back down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together.

He didn't know the answers. All he knew was that he had to try.

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The world swirled in an agonising haze as your consciousness began to claw its way back. Every inch of your body screamed in pain, each bruise, cut, and wound making itself known like fire crawling beneath your skin. It was almost impossible to grasp the full weight of the agony—how could anyone describe the sensation of pain this overwhelming? It was a deep, suffocating thing that made every breath feel like a battle.

You tried to open your eyes, but even that small movement was an assault on your senses. The brightness behind your eyelids was too much, the pressure of it sending a wave of dizziness crashing over you. When you managed to blink, your eyes watered uncontrollably, the effort alone nearly too much to bear. The burn on your back, the curse of that mark—his mark—lingered like a red-hot brand, the pain compounded by the memory of it being tainted with filthy, contaminated water. You couldn't even tell if the pain had dulled or if it was just the agony of everything else making it seem like the worst of it. Even if you didn't die from your injuries, you were certain that infection would claim you before long.

Slowly, with a whimper that barely escaped your cracked lips, you arched your back, instinctively trying to relieve the burning pain from the mark. The movement was weak, your body screaming in protest, but the sensation was a small reprieve. As you forced your eyes open again, blinking over and over to get your bearings, your vision began to sharpen, and the haze of confusion began to recede, bit by bit.

The white ceiling above you was a sharp contrast to the hellish basement you had been trapped in. A sterile smell filled the air, the kind that only came from a medical facility. You were no longer in that filthy, oppressive place. Were you safe now? Had someone rescued you? Was it the authorities? Or perhaps your friends, your family, or your employer had noticed you were missing and raised the alarm? Had they found you in time?

You desperately hoped for any answer that could bring you some sense of peace, but the sight before you shattered that hope in an instant.

Turning your head slightly, you froze. The tears that had started to retreat at the thought of safety now rushed back with full force. There, sitting in a chair beside your bed, was the man who had nearly ended your life.

His face was shadowed in exhaustion, his posture slumped slightly as if he'd nodded off in his seat. His presence hit you like a blow to the chest, a knot of raw fear twisting in your gut. The man who had tortured you, who had burned you, who had broken you was right there. The man who was responsible for every inch of pain you'd endured.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and despite your body's desperate need to remain still, the fear surged within you. You couldn't help but tremble, a silent cry of terror rising in your chest.

But even in your panic, something else stirred—a strange, foreign confusion. He was here. In this room. But he wasn't hurting you. Was he... watching over you? Was this some new kind of torment? A psychological game? The thought made your head spin.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you tried to shift, but your body refused to obey. You were broken in every sense of the word, and now, trapped by your own fear and pain, you couldn't make sense of anything. All you knew was that the man who had caused all of this—the man who had dragged you into this nightmare—was right there, inches away from you.

And you had no idea what it meant.

Your attempts to keep your sobs quiet failed, the soft, broken sounds escaping against your will. Each tremor in your chest seemed to echo in the sterile room, and despite the pain, your body recoiled in fear as you saw him stir. His brow furrowed, eyes fluttering open slowly, the grogginess of sleep fading as he registered the sound—and then, his gaze locked with yours.

Panic surged through you, your breath hitching violently as his dark eyes met your own, wide and trembling, your irises blown out with terror. You wanted to scream, to run, but your body betrayed you, too weak and broken to do anything but sink further into the thin blanket covering you. All you could do was shrink back, the ache in your body drowned out by the overwhelming fear coursing through your veins.

Hongjoong froze, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat. Then, he sat up straighter, slowly, deliberately, as if trying not to startle you further. His jaw clenched, and for a second, the silence stretched unbearably between you. He raised his hands carefully, palms facing you in a universal gesture of peace, his movements measured and cautious, like one might approach a wounded animal.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice low and careful, as though it might shatter you further. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

You didn't believe him. How could you? The fear in your eyes deepened, your body curling instinctively beneath the covers, though every movement brought fresh waves of agony. Your eyes darted around the room, seeking escape, seeking anyone else—but it was only him.

He sighed, a heavy sound filled with something that almost resembled regret. He stayed seated, keeping his hands up, as if showing he was unarmed would make any difference to the scars he had already left on you. "Nobody will hurt you again," he said, and his voice trembled, just barely. "That... that includes me."

You watched him, breath ragged, your body trembling with the effort to stay still. He swallowed hard, the guilt written in every line of his face as he continued, his tone thick with something you couldn't name—shame? Guilt? Desperation? "I know this is all very confusing, and you have no reason to trust me, but we made a mistake. I made a mistake."

He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed again, struggling with the weight of the words. "You're not who we thought you were. And for that—for everything we... I put you through—I'm sorry."

His apology hung in the air, but it did nothing to ease the terror in your heart. It sounded sincere, but sincerity didn't erase the pain, the scars, the nightmare that still lingered in your mind. It didn't change the fact that this man, who now sat before you looking so remorseful, had been the one to destroy you.

Tears continued to stream down your face, and all you could do was stare at him, disbelieving and broken, the word sorry echoing hollowly in your mind. He had taken everything from you, and now he expected that word to make it right?

The silence stretched between you, fragile and suffocating, as you lay there—shattered, terrified, and unsure of what came next.

As if your body had decided to break the unbearable silence itself, your stomach let out a loud, insistent growl. The sound was jarring in the stillness, so absurdly out of place that it caught both of you off guard. You gasped, clutching the thin blanket tighter to your face, cheeks burning despite the pain radiating through your body. Humiliation and fear clashed within you. Would he be disgusted? Would he regret sparing you? Was this the moment he'd change his mind?

You couldn't help but brace yourself.

But instead of anger or disdain, he simply blinked in surprise before his lips parted, and he mumbled softly, "Oh, right. Stupid me. You must be starving." His voice carried a gentleness that was almost foreign, as if the words were meant more for himself than you.

The wooden chair scraped lightly against the floor as he pushed it back, the sound startling in the quiet room. He stood slowly, the motion casual, almost hesitant. "I'll bring you something to eat," he said, the words so ordinary, so kind, that they felt unreal.

And then, just like that, he walked out of the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

You lay frozen, staring at the spot where he'd been moments ago, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Your mind spun in confusion, trying to reconcile the man who had tortured you with the one who now spoke softly and promised food. Was this some twisted game? Was he really going to bring you food—or was it laced with poison, a final, cruel trick?

But if he wanted you dead, why not just finish it when he had the chance? Why tend to your wounds, only to kill you later? The questions swirled relentlessly.

You bit your trembling lip, tears pricking the corners of your eyes again. He could have killed you. You had seen it in his eyes that day—the moment he gave the final order. You had accepted it then, surrendering to fate, your body succumbing to the darkness.

Yet here you were. Alive.

Still shaking, you turned your head to the door, trying to comprehend the reality before you. Was this real? Was he truly changing—or was this a prelude to something worse?

The confusion and fear gnawed at you, but beneath it, a glimmer of something unfamiliar lingered.

Hope.

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"Here," he said softly, holding out a spoonful of chicken soup to your lips. The aroma was heavenly—rich and savoury, exactly what your starved body craved after days without food. Your stomach clenched painfully in response, desperate for sustenance. Yet, despite the temptation, you frowned and turned your face away.

He sighed, his hand lowering slightly but not withdrawing entirely. The bowl in his other hand trembled ever so slightly as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Finally, he set it gently on the table beside you, the warm liquid inside rippling quietly.

Eyes trailing after his movements, you caught sight of your bag resting there. It wasn't in the state you remembered—no longer a crumpled, filthy mess. It had been cleaned meticulously, every stitch visible and tidy, the fabric now free from dirt and grime.

His voice interrupted your thoughts, soft and almost hesitant. "Oh yeah, your bag. I... got busy while you were sleeping and cleaned it up."

You clutched the blanket tighter, sceptical. Him? Cleaning your bag? It was absurd.

"Everything inside too," he added, a small smile pulling at his lips. "You have some pretty cool stuff."

Your eyes widened, heart racing. He touched your things? Against your better judgement, you reached out, wanting to verify the state of your belongings, only to let out a sharp cry as pain flared through your body with the movement.

He was beside you instantly, his hands hovering, unsure whether to touch or retreat. His face twisted in something that looked suspiciously like hurt when you recoiled, sinking back into the bed to avoid him.

Clearing his throat, he asked, voice soft, "You want your bag?"

You nodded timidly, watching him closely. His small smile returned, gentle and relieved. "Let me help you," he murmured, pulling his chair closer. He placed the bag on the bed between you both, unzipping it carefully for you to see inside.

For the first time since waking up, your eyes softened. Everything was as he said—clean, neatly arranged. Trembling fingers reached out for the glass flower charm nestled inside, your favourite trinket. But before you could touch it, your stomach betrayed you again with a loud, desperate growl.

Humiliated, you drew your hand back, shrinking into yourself.

He chuckled softly, reaching for the bowl again. "I know you don't trust me, and you shouldn't," he admitted, his tone gentle and sincere, "but I can assure you, this is safe to consume." To prove it, he scooped a generous spoonful and took a bite himself, letting out an exaggerated hum of satisfaction.

You swallowed hard, the sight and smell tormenting you. Still, you hesitated when he held out another spoonful.

"If you won't eat it," he said with a sigh, "then I'll finish the rest." He raised the spoon toward his own mouth as if to follow through.

Before he could, you opened your mouth quickly, and his grin softened. Gently, he fed you, the warm broth sliding down your throat like liquid gold, soothing and comforting. The flavours were simple, yet after days of deprivation, it felt like the most luxurious meal you'd ever had.

He remained calm, every action slow and deliberate, offering care despite your fear and mistrust. His patience was unsettling, yet... somehow, in that moment, the terrifying man you had known felt like a distant memory.

But the pain in your body lingered. And so did the scars.

Hongjoong felt a warmth he couldn't explain swelling in his chest as you finished the final spoonful, the empty bowl resting between you both like a fragile truce. His eyes softened as he watched you, vulnerable yet still defiant, the faintest remnants of tears glistening on your lashes. He reached forward, hand poised to wipe the corner of your lips, but before he could, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

He blinked, and it was as if a mask fell into place. The softness in his gaze vanished, replaced by the cold, commanding demeanour you knew too well. He set the bowl on the table, the clink of ceramic against wood too loud in the heavy silence. Straightening in his seat, shoulders squared, he uttered a firm, "Come in."

You shrank back into the bed instinctively, your body curling as far from him as your injuries would allow. The door creaked open, and another man stepped inside—his brow raising slightly when he noticed you were awake.

"Hyung," he said, his tone both respectful and urgent, "you're needed at the meeting. To discuss our next steps, now that the..." He hesitated, casting a brief glance your way, as if unsure how much to say in your presence. "The actual spy remains at large."

Hongjoong nodded, the authority in his posture unwavering. "I'll be there. Thank you, Jongho." His voice was clipped, businesslike, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he'd used with you only moments before. "Summon the doctor. Have her checked thoroughly and ensure she's comfortable."

The man named Jongho gave a short nod and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a moment, the Captain remained seated, his back straight, tension radiating from him. Then, as if reminded of your presence, he turned to you once more. His expression softened, just for a second, as he offered the faintest smile—fleeting but genuine. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "No one will hurt you again. I won't let them."

Before you could react, the smile vanished, his face hardening once more as he rose to his feet. Without another glance, he strode to the door and exited, the soft thud of his boots fading into the distance.

You lay there, staring at the closed door, heart racing, mind spinning. The man who had nearly destroyed you had just promised your protection. And despite everything, a single, terrifying thought whispered through your mind:

I believe you.

The room felt unnervingly quiet after his departure, the air still heavy with the remnants of his presence. You stayed frozen for a moment, listening to the silence, your pulse still thundering in your ears. Slowly, cautiously, you shifted beneath the blanket, every movement sending fresh waves of pain rippling through your battered body.

But you endured it, your gaze locked on the bag resting beside you. Trembling fingers reached out, brushing against its fabric, now pristine compared to how you last remembered it—torn, dirtied, ruined. Carefully, you pulled it closer, clutching it to your chest like a lifeline, tears welling up as you stroked the surface. Your fingers traced over the familiar stitches and doodles, remnants of happier times, of days spent working, laughing, living.

Were your loved ones searching for you? How frantic must they be, wondering if you were still alive, hoping, praying for your return? The thought broke something inside you, and you wept silently, the tears streaming down your face as you reached inside the bag.

Piece by piece, your belongings greeted you, neatly arranged—your keychain, your tiny souvenirs, even the little trinkets you'd collected on that ill-fated day. None of them bore the grime and cruelty you had last seen, each one painstakingly cleaned, cared for. Despite yourself, a hollow sob escaped your lips, and you hated how much it affected you.

At the very bottom of the bag, your trembling hand closed around the familiar worn edges of your notebook. You pulled it out, your tears falling freely as you held it close, opening the cover with a sniffle. Flipping through the pages, you found the list you had written, the innocent to-do list that had led you into this nightmare. Your thumb traced the ink of your handwriting—dotted with tiny stars and hearts—and you almost smiled through the pain.

But it wasn't your handwriting on the newest page. You froze, blinking through your tears as you stared at the words, scrawled in a neat, unfamiliar script:

I'm sorry. I will make it right again, I promise.

Your breath caught in your throat, a sob escaping that you couldn't suppress. He had written it. The very man who had branded you, broken you. And yet here, in this quiet, fragile moment, his apology was inked into your most personal possession.

It wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

But it was something.

The notebook fell from your hands, landing on your lap as you curled around it, weeping not just from pain, but from the deep, agonising confusion that tangled with it. You didn't know what to feel anymore. Hatred? Grief? Or some terrible, unbidden hope that his words weren't just lies?

As the tears blurred your vision, you whispered brokenly to no one, "Why does it hurt more now?"

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The days stretched into a haze of silence and uncertainty. You hadn't seen him since that moment when he fed you soup and scribbled his apology into your notebook. In his absence, Jongho became a constant presence—a quiet sentinel, always bringing what you needed but never lingering too long. Aside from him, the kind doctor, with her gentle hands and soothing voice, tended to your wounds, her care meticulous and soft. But it was always just Jongho and her. Never the Captain.

At first, you felt like a prisoner, wondering what the end of this strange hospitality would bring. Would they let you go? Was this kindness a façade before some darker fate awaited? But as the days went on, your thoughts turned inward, your hands finding comfort in writing. You filled parchment after parchment with letters—letters to your parents, your best friend, your employer. They were full of reassurances you weren't even sure you believed. I'm alive. I'm safe. I will come back. But the ink soothed you, even if you knew they might never be sent.

Today was no different, except for the soft murmurs between you and the doctor as she changed your dressings. Her hands worked deftly, the cool air brushing against your skin as she peeled away the layers of gauze and replaced them with fresh, clean bandages. You let your mind drift, thinking of the promise he had scrawled in your notebook. He said he'd make it right. But how? Will I get to leave? Will I ever see my old life again? And if I do… will I ever be the same?

The faint creak of the door interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up instinctively, expecting Jongho's usual unhurried entrance. But it wasn't the Anchor.

It was him.

Your breath caught, and you froze, eyes wide as you met the gaze of Kim Hongjoong. He, too, stilled in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps? Regret? His gaze fell to your back, to the horrid brand etched into your skin, and you saw the way he flinched.

He wasn't the only one.

Your body trembled involuntarily, an instinctive recoil from the man who had caused you so much pain. The doctor, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening the air, glanced up with a warm smile. "Oh, you're here! I'm almost done, just give me a minute."

The gang leader nodded stiffly, but he didn't speak. He quickly averted his gaze, turning away as if the sight of you was unbearable. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it should be.

But not for the same reasons as before.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, clutching the edge of the blanket as the doctor finished her work, her hands light on your skin. She hummed softly, her presence a soothing balm to your raw nerves. But your focus remained on him—on the way his shoulders tensed, on the way he refused to meet your eyes again. When he did chance a glance, he caught your gaze, and you saw it clearly: shame.

His lips parted, but no words came. You wanted to demand answers. Why are you here? What do you want from me? But your voice remained trapped in your throat.

The doctor stood, packing up her supplies with a satisfied smile. "There we are," she said brightly, glancing between the two of you. "I'll leave you to rest now." She nodded respectfully to Hongjoong before quietly excusing herself, leaving you alone with him.

The door clicked shut, and the silence between you thickened. You stared at him, your heart pounding, as he stood there, still and unsure. He finally spoke, his voice low and rough, as if it hurt to say the words.

"I didn't mean to... interrupt." He looked down, hands clenched at his sides. "I only came to see how you were."

You didn't know what to say. Under normal circumstances, perhaps a thank you would have been appropriate—but this wasn't normal, and he didn't deserve that. So you kept quiet, your lips pressed into a thin line, your hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

He sighed softly, the sound barely audible, before clearing his throat and moving to sit beside you, just as he had that day with the soup. He settled into the chair with a quiet grace, attempting a small, hesitant smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze flickered to the books, papers, and pens scattered across the nursing table beside your bed.

"I hope Jongho managed to get you everything you asked for," he said gently, his voice low and careful, as if afraid to startle you. You nodded, but kept your eyes downcast, focused on your wringing hands.

His gaze followed yours, landing on the letters you had written—the stack of parchment covered in your careful handwriting. For a moment, you tensed, waiting for the inevitable backlash. Would he order his men to burn them? Would he scold you for daring to think of leaving, for daring to hope?

But instead, his voice was soft. "Would you like me to deliver them?"

You froze, lifting your head slowly, your wide, disbelieving eyes meeting his earnest gaze. He gestured toward the letters with a slight movement of his hand. "The letters," he clarified. "I could send them for you."

Your disbelief must have shown on your face, the way your brow furrowed and your lips parted slightly in shock. He saw it. He felt it. And it cut deeper than he expected. Of course, you still saw him as a monster. Why wouldn't you? He had given you every reason to believe that. If he wanted to change that, he would need to do more—much more.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself, before looking at you again with an expression that was raw and unguarded. "Look," he began, voice heavy with something that felt dangerously close to regret. "You're not trapped here, in case you're wondering. You're free to leave whenever you want."

You blinked, your heart racing at the words. Could you believe him? Could you trust that freedom was within your reach?

"It's just that…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "After everything we—I've done to you, the least I can do is help you heal. To nurse you back to health, to give you what you need. I need to make it right. That's all I want. For you to get better, to return to yourself. And if there's anything you need to make that happen… just say the word."

His voice dropped to an almost pleading tone. "So tell me—do you want those letters delivered? Is that it?"

You stared at him, searching his face for any trace of deception, any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was honesty. Whether or not it was real, you didn't know. But the sincerity in his tone, the earnestness in his eyes—it was undeniable.

And you couldn't lie to yourself. The letters were what you wanted. To set your mind and heart at ease. To reassure your loved ones that you were still alive, still here, even if only barely.

So you nodded.

He exhaled slowly, as if relieved, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a glimmer of something softer in his expression. "Okay," he said simply. "I'll make sure they're delivered."

You struggled, the words stuck in your throat like stubborn stones, not fear this time—but something else. Something unfamiliar and unsettling. You nodded again, the gesture small and hesitant, and to your surprise, he seemed to find it… endearing. His smile softened further, and though you wanted to resent him for it, there was something disarming about the warmth in his expression.

Noticing the way you hesitated, as if wanting to speak but unsure how, he shifted in his chair, intertwining his fingers and leaning forward, careful in his every movement. He stopped just short of your space, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to avoid overwhelming you. His eyes, soft and patient, held yours, and the corners of his lips tugged upward in that same gentle smile—a silent reassurance: I won't hurt you. It's okay.

He seemed aware of how much he was smiling, almost as if surprised by it himself. His eyes glimmered with something that felt out of place in a man like him—genuine kindness. It struck you then, how foreign that smile must have been on his face, as if it had gone unused for too long. You wondered who he had once been, before this life of cruelty hardened him. And you hated that part of you, the part desperate for softness, wanted to know.

"It's alright," he said softly, his voice gentle and warm. "You don't have to be afraid. Just tell me—what do you want?"

The tenderness in his tone felt unreal. This was the same man who had once stood over you, cold and unyielding, ready to snuff out your life. And yet here he was now, speaking to you as if you were fragile, precious even. It was maddening. Confusing. And yet, damn you for being nothing more than a frail human aching for kindness, your guard cracked, just a little.

You didn't know why you asked it, why this question had been sitting in the back of your mind, waiting for its chance to escape. But when you finally spoke, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, trembling with vulnerability. "Your name."

He blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, silence stretched between you, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer, almost regretful. And then, in that quiet space, he realised the truth: from the very beginning, through everything he had put you through, he had never once told you his name.

He sat back slightly, exhaling a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Hongjoong," he said, his voice steady but tender, as if offering you something sacred. "My name is Hongjoong."

Your lips parted, and though you had imagined feeling hatred for this name, it didn't come. Instead, all you felt was the raw ache of everything left unsaid.

"Hongjoong," you repeated, tasting the name on your tongue like a fragile thing, and the way you said it felt like the start of something neither of you could yet name.

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Hongjoong had made it a point to visit you every evening, just before the world outside your room fell silent for the night. At first, you dreaded those moments, unsure of his intentions or what he might say. But as the days turned into weeks, those visits became routine. He would sit beside your bed or across from you at the small table, his demeanour always calm, his tone soft and steady, and slowly, piece by piece, he unravelled the mystery of who he was, what this place meant, and how you had been drawn into their world.

His name, you learned, was more than just a name. He was the leader of this place, a sprawling mansion that served as the heart of a powerful syndicate—a gang, as you quickly realised. The people here, the ones who moved with deadly precision and cold efficiency, were his crew. Not just criminals, but men who had pledged their loyalty to him and each other in the face of a world that sought to destroy them.

You had been caught in the crossfire of a feud between two factions, mistaken for an enemy spy in a moment of chaos. It explained the brutality with which you had been treated, the mistrust that lingered until the truth emerged too late. "You weren't supposed to be hurt," he told you one night, voice thick with regret. "I didn't know who you were. If I had known..." He never finished those sentences, leaving the unsaid to hang in the air like a bitter aftertaste.

And now, the pieces fit. The puzzle you had struggled to solve finally made sense, but with that clarity came an unsettling reality: you were surrounded by criminals. Even if Hongjoong had promised safety, you were in a den of people capable of murder, of violence, of unspeakable acts committed in the name of survival and loyalty. It went against everything you believed in—your sense of morality, the honest life you had led until now.

Yet, despite your fear and discomfort, you knew you had no choice. What had happened could not be undone. The only hope you clung to was for a swift recovery, a chance to leave this world behind and return to the life you had once known.

As your injuries healed, you grew stronger. The sharp, constant pain dulled to a distant ache, and with the doctor's meticulous care, you were soon able to move around. Hongjoong had a proper room prepared for you—one more fitting, spacious, with large windows that let in the light. It was more comfortable than you dared to expect, but you knew better than to interpret it as anything more than a gesture of atonement.

Still, you couldn't deny the strange, unspoken connection that had formed between you and him. You wouldn't call it friendship—you couldn't. He was still the man who had brought you to the brink of death. But there was something. Something fragile, a bond woven through shared guilt and reluctant trust. You found yourself relying on him in ways that shamed you. You hated it, hated how you felt a strange sense of calm when he was near, as if the very person responsible for your suffering was now the anchor keeping you steady.

It was complicated. Confusing. And worst of all, it made you question whether the lines you thought were so clear—between captor and captive, between right and wrong—had begun to blur.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong wrestled with the same confusion—especially about the emotions that had begun to surface lately. He couldn't shake the persistent need to be near you. It gnawed at him like an unrelenting tide, wearing away the walls he had built over the years. He told himself it was duty, responsibility. After all, he was the reason you had nearly lost your life. If he hadn't acted so quickly on false information, none of this would have happened. He reasoned that it was only right to take full responsibility, to ensure your recovery—physically and otherwise.

That logic gave him something to hold on to, but it didn't explain everything. It didn't explain why his eyes instinctively sought you out whenever he walked the halls or the strange calm that washed over him when he saw you safe. It didn't explain the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he heard your voice or glimpsed your rare, hesitant smiles. No, it wasn't just responsibility anymore. It was something deeper, something he wasn't ready to name.

After another gruelling meeting filled with discussions of crisis management and strategies to track down the elusive spy, the Captain's head buzzed with tension. His face remained a mask of cold authority, his steps measured, his shoulders squared. He passed his men without sparing a glance, his thoughts elsewhere. Always on you. The dining hall was empty, your room vacant, and the painting room—where you often sat doodling, lost in thought—was deserted. A strange, unwelcome worry tightened in his chest.

Relief only came when he pushed open the heavy library doors and saw you standing there. You stood in a sunlit aisle, the golden light streaming through the tall windows, bathing you in a soft glow. The light illuminated your features—now mostly healed, the bruises reduced to faint shadows, the cuts mere whispers of what they had been. You were beautiful, he realised, and the realisation ached in a way he hadn't anticipated. He closed the door quietly behind him, the sound muted, careful not to startle you. His steps were slow and deliberate as he approached, his heart inexplicably racing.

You were focused on a pressed flower bookmark tucked between the pages of a book, your head tilted slightly as you admired it, your fingers gently brushing the fragile petals. The scene was simple, ordinary. Yet it stirred something in him, an unspoken truth he wasn't ready to confront.

"Marigold," he said softly, his voice low to not disturb the tranquillity. "That's my favourite flower."

You looked up, startled at first, but your expression softened when you saw him. "Really? It's mine too," you replied, your voice steady, though a hint of curiosity lingered in your tone.

A small smile tugged at his lips, softer than usual, though it carried the weight of everything left unsaid. "It is? Then you should keep it," he said, nodding toward the bookmark, surprising even himself with the offer.

"But—" you began, gesturing toward the marked page.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "I never had time to finish the book anyway. Can't even remember what it's about. Just take it. It's yours now."

Anything you want, it's yours.

For a moment, the silence between you stretched, fragile yet profound, like a delicate thread holding more than either of you dared admit. Hongjoong didn't know what this feeling was, only that it was growing. And being near you eased a part of him he hadn't realised was broken.

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The evening air was still, and the faint glow of the lamp in your room cast a soft halo beneath the door, a beacon that drew him to check on you one last time before retiring. He knocked gently, expecting the usual soft response or even a brief acknowledgement, but there was only silence. His brows knitted in concern, and he knocked again, the sound a little firmer this time. Still, no answer.

Then he heard it—a muffled yelp.

Panic surged through him. He couldn't wait. "I'm coming in," he called, his voice urgent but not harsh, and without hesitation, he pushed open the door.

The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, your shirt halfway unbuttoned, exposing your shoulder and part of your back. The fresh bandage you had been attempting to wrap around yourself lay unravelled on the floor, a tangle of gauze mocking your efforts. Your face was flushed with embarrassment, and the moment you realised he was there, you scrambled to pull your shirt back up, your movements frantic and clumsy.

He didn't look away, not out of disrespect, but because he couldn't ignore the mark on your back. That cursed brand. Every time he saw it, it felt like a punch to the gut, a cruel reminder of his failure. If he could change one thing in his life, it would be that—undoing the moment that left such a permanent scar on you. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, before finally speaking, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

"Do you need help?"

Your immediate response was a firm shake of your head. "I'm fine," you insisted, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you. He could see it all: the mess of your hair, the exhaustion etched into your face, the slight tremor in your hands. You had been at this for a while, stubbornly trying to do it alone, and it was clear that you were anything but fine.

Hongjoong sighed quietly, stepping closer, each movement deliberate and gentle, as if afraid he might scare you away. "You're not," he said softly, without accusation, without pity, only quiet understanding. He knelt in front of you, eyes level with yours, and held out his hand, palm up, an unspoken offer. "Let me help."

You hesitated, biting your lip, your pride warring with the exhaustion. But eventually, you let out a shaky breath and nodded, your eyes downcast. He reached for the discarded bandage on the floor, his movements slow, deliberate, as if trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

Carefully, he unbuttoned your shirt just enough to reveal your shoulder, his fingers never straying more than necessary. The moment felt intimate but not in the way that made you feel vulnerable. It was gentle. Respectful. As he wrapped the bandage around you with practised precision, his hands were steady, careful not to brush against your skin more than needed.

"You don't have to do everything alone," he murmured as he fastened the bandage, his voice like a balm. "I know you're strong, but you can let someone help you."

You didn't respond immediately, the warmth of his words sinking in as you sat in silence. Finally, you whispered, "Thank you."

He gave a faint smile, one you didn't see but could hear in the softness of his voice. "Anytime."

You finally turned to face him, your breath catching when you realised just how close he was. His face, so much softer now than the man who had once been your captor, was mere inches away. As if more modest than you, he quickly moved to help button your shirt, his fingers deft but gentle, avoiding your gaze as if giving you privacy in a moment that was anything but private. Your eyes, however, couldn't stop following the sincerity etched into his expression, hating the way it made your heart race. How could your body betray you like this, reacting to someone who had once been so cruel?

You swallowed hard, trying to banish those thoughts, and lowered your gaze. That's when you noticed his wrist peeking from the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. It was the first time you saw them, the scars that twisted from his elbows to his wrists like angry, jagged reminders. Your brows furrowed, curiosity—and something deeper—propelling you forward. Without thinking, your hand reached out and grasped his as he pulled away, holding it gently.

"H-how'd you get these?" your voice trembled, more from the vulnerability in the air than any fear.

Hongjoong stilled. The small smile on his face faded, replaced by a haunting stillness. He pulled his hands back gently, as if realising for the first time he had no right to be near you, no right to touch you. He placed your hands carefully back in your lap, almost reverently, and turned toward the window, the fading sunlight casting shadows across his face.

A humourless chuckle escaped him, low and bitter, as he glanced at the scars on his arms before shifting his gaze to the darkened horizon. "Let me tell you the story of a boy," he began, his voice void of emotion but heavy with pain, "who had everything taken from him. Not that he had much to begin with—only a mother who loved him more than anything." His voice cracked, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. "Even that wasn't enough for fate."

He didn't look at you, eyes fixed on the darkening sky, as if it held all the answers. "My father was a worthless drunk with a gambling problem. He left us with nothing but debts, and my mother… she worked herself to the bone, trying to keep us afloat. But it was never enough. The loan sharks came one night." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I was too young to understand what they wanted, why they were shouting at her. But I remember… I remember watching them beat her to the ground."

His voice dropped to a whisper, but it cut like a blade. "I watched them strip her, violate her, and when they were done, they slit her throat as if she were nothing." He exhaled shakily, his jaw tightening. "They left me there with her body. Taunted me. If they had known what they created that night… maybe they wouldn't have left me alive."

You sat motionless, your heart aching at the raw truth of his confession. Suddenly, everything made sense—how he had become this way, hardened and cold. You could understand now, even though it hurt to. Perhaps you would have become the same if you had endured such horrors. No one is born evil. We are all blank canvases, shaped by what we experience, by the pain life forces us to endure.

His eyes fell to the scars on his arms, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips. "These," he murmured, flexing his fingers as if feeling the memory burn anew, "are souvenirs from that night." His voice grew colder, distant, as if reliving the moment. "I remember their nails clawing at my arms, desperate to cling to life. But it didn't matter. Those bastards were never going to escape."

Despite the chilling edge in his words, you felt no fear. Instead, you saw the boy hidden beneath the armour, a boy the world had broken too soon. He turned back to you, his eyes no longer cold but filled with a deep, aching regret. "And that's why," he said, voice trembling with emotion, "I wish I could undo what I did to you. I swore I'd never harm the innocent, never become what they were. But I failed." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. Nothing I do will ever make this right."

To his surprise, you reached out, your hand resting gently on his shoulder, offering comfort where he expected none. He turned to you, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to let fall.

"It's okay, Hongjoong," you said softly, your voice unwavering yet gentle. "Everyone makes mistakes."

And then you smiled—a small, genuine smile, brimming with forgiveness. It shattered something within him, but it also healed something far deeper, a part of him he thought was long dead.

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Things had shifted significantly between you since that fateful night when he first bared his soul, revealing the shadows of his dark past. Your understanding unlocked something in him, and in turn, you also began to open up. Little by little, you spoke more, smiled more freely, and allowed yourself to be vulnerable in his presence. Hongjoong, too, had changed. What once were brief visits to check on you became shared meals, quiet conversations, and the gentle ritual of him changing your wound dressings daily. It had become a routine—a comforting rhythm filled with tender moments, lingering touches, deep gazes, and countless almosts.

Almost kisses. Almost confessions. Almost something more.

Just a little longer, he told himself, fighting the constant urge to feel your lips against his. He needed to earn your trust fully before daring to take that step. He knew he didn't deserve you—but the heart wants what it wants.

But of course, just as he allowed himself to believe things were finally settling, reality reminded him otherwise. He should have known better than to think peace could last in his world. You and he had grown closer, but the life he led was never one to offer tranquillity for long. Conflict loomed on the horizon. An important meeting was fast approaching—a meeting arranged long before you had entered his life.

The Black Pirates, an organisation that had always operated with an exclusively male force, had struck a delicate negotiation with the Red Room, a renowned spy training facility specialised in producing elite female operatives. Though both syndicates had thrived independently, they saw mutual benefit in an alliance, especially as the shadowy threat of the White Serpents continued to grow. A treaty was in the works and was supposed to be one of Hongjoong's top priorities.

Yet, things had changed. You were here now, and part of him refused to leave you. The thought of being away, of leaving you vulnerable even for a moment, gnawed at him. So he made a decision: Seonghwa would attend the meeting in his place. The eldest, the Gentleman, was their best negotiator, and if anyone could secure a favourable outcome, it was him.

"It's set then," he said, his tone final. "Seonghwa will represent me for this." He leaned back slightly, eager to conclude the meeting and return to you.

But he should have known better than to expect it would be accepted without protest.

The moment the words left his mouth, Mingi's hand slammed onto the table, the force reverberating through the room. "Really, hyung?" he spat, his voice heavy with frustration. "You're going to send someone else on your behalf for something this important? I was already fed up with this nonsense, but enough is enough!"

The screech of the temperamental member's chair echoed as he shoved it back, rising to his feet, the fire in his eyes blazing. Yunho reached out, gripping his arm in warning, but Mingi shook him off, his glare fixed on their leader.

"No!" he growled, his voice rising. "When will this madness stop?! I'm sick and tired of you being distracted by her. At first, I understood—you felt guilty, like you owed her something. But now? You're letting it go too far! You've been wasting precious time hovering around her, growing soft! And now you're putting our work at risk. When does it end, huh?"

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with the weight of Mingi's accusation. Hongjoong remained seated, his fingers interlocked on the table. He met the taller man's gaze with a cold, unwavering stare.

"Sit down, Mingi," he said quietly, his voice calm, but the authority in it was unmistakable.

Mingi didn't move, his jaw tight, defiance radiating from him. "Answer me," he demanded. "When does it end?"

The room seemed to hold its breath.

"You think I'm neglecting my responsibility," Hongjoong said, his voice low, even, and far colder than before. He rose slowly, pushing his chair back with a deliberate grace. "You think I'm growing soft. Maybe you're right." His eyes, sharp and cutting, bore into Mingi's. "But everything I do is for this gang's survival. Including ensuring her safety."

Mingi scoffed, disbelief written across his face. "Her? She's not one of us. She's a—"

"Enough," Hongjoong snapped, the steel in his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He stepped closer, towering over Mingi now. "You question my judgement again, and it won't be this quiet." His voice softened, but the danger in it was palpable. "I trust Seonghwa to handle this. And I trust you to remember your place."

For a moment, it seemed as if Mingi might push further, but his best friend, the Enforcer's hand tightened on his arm, a silent plea. He growled in frustration and, after a tense beat, finally sat down, seething but silent.

Seonghwa's calm voice broke the heavy quiet. "I'll handle it, Cap. You've made the right call." He shot a glance at Mingi. "We all want the same thing: to be stronger, united. Let's not lose sight of that."

Hongjoong's shoulders relaxed slightly, though his eyes never left Mingi. "Good," he said, his tone final. "Then it's settled."

As the others filed out, Mingi lingered near the door, shooting one last glare at his leader before leaving without another word. The Captain remained behind, letting out a long breath, the weight of the confrontation pressing on him.

He should have known peace wouldn't last. But as his thoughts turned to you, one question echoed in his mind.

How much more would he have to sacrifice to protect you before it all fell apart?

Fortunately—and unfortunately—you had already found the answer to his unspoken question.

"Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice trembling as it cut through the stillness of the dimly lit library.

The soft glow of the lamps cast gentle shadows over the shelves, wrapping the room in an intimate quiet. Across from you, he sat, his eyes warm and attentive, watching you with that familiar, close-lipped smile—the one that always made your heart stutter. His expression was gentle, full of a quiet tenderness that you both craved and feared.

But tonight, that smile felt like a dagger. It broke something inside you, making what you were about to say hurt even more.

"Yes?" he responded just as softly, his voice a soothing balm you didn't deserve. He leaned forward slightly, the care in his gaze evident, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as they clutched the delicate bookmark he had given you, your lifeline in this moment of unbearable heaviness. "I'm… I'm all better now," you began, the words sticking in your throat. "I wish to leave. I want to go home."

The change in him was immediate. His smile vanished, and his hand shot across the table, grasping yours before you could pull away. His touch was warm but trembling, desperate. "Wha—where is this coming from?" His voice cracked, panic threading through every word. He hadn't known how long he'd have you by his side, but he never imagined losing you this soon. He wasn't ready. "Was it Mingi? Did he say something to you? I swear to god, if he—"

"No," you interrupted, shaking your head firmly, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "He didn't do anything." You squeezed his hand, trying to draw strength from the contact. "I just… I think it's time. Time for both of us to return to our own lives."

His grip tightened, his eyes wide with disbelief. "No," he whispered, shaking his head as if refusing to believe your words could make them untrue. "You don't have to do this. You don't need to leave yet. The doctor—I'm having her work on something for the mark. You're not healed, not really."

You bit your lip, his raw emotion tearing through your resolve. You wanted to stay—God, how you wanted to stay—but the memory of that argument was too fresh. You had stood outside the meeting room earlier, waiting for him to finish, only to hear Mingi's voice raised in anger, accusing him of neglect, of weakness. And you had heard Hongjoong's silence—heavy, burdened. You couldn't be the reason for his pain. You couldn't be the weakness he couldn't afford.

"I heard it all," you confessed, voice trembling. "The argument. I know how much I'm complicating things for you." Tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away. "It's not fair—to you, to them. We're from different worlds, Hongjoong. You and I… we were never going to work." Your voice softened as you finally named what had been unspoken: the feelings between you both.

His face crumpled, the pain etched into every line devastating to witness. "Don't do this," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please… don't."

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. "This is how we make things right," you whispered. "You wanted to fix what you did, to give me a chance at freedom. This is it."

Silence engulfed the room, thick and suffocating. Slowly, he let go of your hand, as if releasing it would break him entirely. His head bowed, shoulders slumping under the weight of your decision.

"Oh…" It was all he could manage, and the raw pain in that single word nearly undid you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The quiet of the library, once a sanctuary, now felt suffocating. You had made your choice, and you believed it was the right one.

So why did it hurt so much?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, standing from your chair. You hesitated, wanting to offer some kind of solace, but knowing it would only prolong the pain. "Goodnight, Hongjoong."

With every step you took toward the door, it felt as though pieces of your heart were left behind. And when you reached the threshold, you heard it—his broken, whispered plea.

"Don't go."

But you didn't stop. You couldn't. Because sometimes, love wasn't enough.

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As if running from you could change the inevitable, Hongjoong buried himself in work, pouring over plans and strategies like a man determined to forget. Meetings stretched longer, tasks multiplied, and he worked late into the night, ignoring the hollow ache growing in his chest. But no amount of work could silence the truth—or erase the memory of your soft, breaking voice.

He could only run for so long.

One day, the quiet was broken by Jongho's hesitant knock on his office door. The youngest cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably under the Captain's tired gaze. "What is it?" he sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to mask the weariness in his voice.

Jongho straightened, his eyes darting to the barely open door behind him. Hongjoong followed his gaze and froze. There, framed by the narrow gap, was the unmistakable outline of your back.

"It's her, hyung," Jongho said softly, his tone more hesitant than usual. "She... she asked the doctor to give her one final check. To make sure she's fully healed." He paused, as if reluctant to continue. "She expressed her desire to leave."

The words struck like a blade, sharp and final. For a long moment, Hongjoong said nothing, his eyes locked on the empty doorway as if he could will you to return. But deep down, he knew there was nowhere left to run.

He had been a fool to believe that anything could make you stay. He put himself in your shoes for a fleeting moment, imagining what it must be like. You had a life beyond these walls—a life waiting for you to return. And even if you chose to stay, how long could he truly keep you safe in his dangerous world? How long before the life he led consumed you, too?

And even if, by some miracle, you stayed—would your loved ones ever accept him? A gang leader with blood on his hands and sins too deep to cleanse?

No. The answer was clear.

As much as it tore him apart, he knew this was the mercy you deserved. He couldn't chain you to his darkness, couldn't selfishly hold on when letting go was the only way to truly love you.

"You're right," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "You have a life of your own. I can't ask you to stay."

The Anchor remained silent, watching his leader with a rare softness in his eyes.

Men like him were never meant to love. Not after all the sins he had committed, all the lives he had taken, all the wrongs he could never make right. He didn't deserve you—not your kindness, your laughter, or the warmth you so effortlessly gave.

No matter how much he wished otherwise.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the door, his voice steady but hollow. "Thank you, Jongho. I trust you to make the proper arrangements for her departure."

The youngest hesitated for a moment, but when he met the finality in Hongjoong's eyes, he nodded and left quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. Silence settled over the room again, heavy and oppressive—until the door creaked open once more. The gang leader's head snapped up, irritation flashing in his eyes, but it melted away the instant he saw who it was.

You stood hesitantly in the doorway, peeking in like you weren't sure you belonged there anymore.

He shot up from his seat, his movements hurried. "O-oh, it's you. Come in..." His voice softened, and you offered a small, tentative smile as you stepped inside. He gestured toward the worn leather couch. "Please, have a seat."

But you shook your head. "No, I shouldn't stay long. I just… came to thank you for respecting my decision."

He exhaled, a bitter sound escaping his lips. "Don't thank me for that." His voice was low, laced with frustration, though not at you. "It shouldn't have taken me this long to agree. You were right." His lips curved into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. The pain there was unmistakable, and it clenched your heart painfully. "This… it has to end eventually. After all, I'm the one who did this to you. I can't possibly expect you to return my feelings—"

"Stop," you whispered, closing your eyes, shaking your head as if to ward off the self-loathing in his voice. Too late. You already had returned those feelings, and hearing him like this shattered you. "No, Hongjoong, don't say that. I just..."

He stilled, his gaze searching yours as you opened your eyes and met him, resisting the desperate urge to reach out and cup his face, to pull him into the comfort you knew he craved. But you couldn't. So instead, you smiled, soft but trembling, and extended a hand toward him.

"I'm feeling a little hungry," you said gently, your voice trembling just enough to betray your emotions. "Want to have dinner together?"

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if unsure if he had heard correctly. But how could he possibly say no? Besides, this could very well be your last meal together. Everything else could wait—damn it all.

Until the moment you were safely returned home, you were all that mattered to him.

Just until tomorrow.

Jongho had arranged your ride back tomorrow.

Hongjoong couldn't pretend anymore. He knew this would likely be the last time he'd have you like this, in this fragile peace. So, tonight, he let the walls fall. He no longer resisted the urges that had haunted him for weeks. When he reached out to feed you, gently wiping a stray bit of food from the corner of your lips, you didn't flinch. When he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin with a tenderness that made his chest ache, you didn't pull away.

And you didn't say a word. You just let him.

By the end of the meal, when he saw the glimmer of hesitation in your eyes—knowing you were preparing to retreat to your room—he acted quickly, grasping your hand before you could leave. His touch was firm but not forceful, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, almost pleading.

"Would you like to… walk with me?"

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes searching his as if trying to memorise everything about this moment. Then, wordlessly, you nodded. He led you through the grand halls of the mansion, out to the sprawling, maze-like garden, where the soft glow of lanterns illuminated the paths.

Your hands remained entwined the entire time.

The garden was silent except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze. He guided you to the centre, where a marble fountain stood, the gentle sound of water trickling into the basin adding to the quiet serenity. Clearing a spot on the cold concrete, he shrugged off his blazer, laying it down carefully before gesturing for you to sit. You did, settling beside him as the horizon stretched before you, bathed in soft, silver moonlight.

"This is nice," you murmured, breaking the silence, your voice almost lost in the cool night air.

He smiled, his gaze softening. "It is, isn't it?"

For a while, neither of you spoke. The dim lanterns cast a golden glow, wrapping you both in a warmth that felt almost unreal. Slowly, as if afraid you might slip away, he placed his hand over yours once again. This time, your fingers intertwined naturally, effortlessly, as though they had always belonged that way.

No words were necessary. Every touch, every glance, spoke of everything you felt but couldn't say.

Your heart raced as you turned toward him, only to find he was already watching you. His eyes were dark, filled with emotions you didn't dare name. He leaned in, bit by bit, closing the space between you. Your breath hitched, trembling, but you didn't move away.

"Just for tonight," he whispered, his voice rough and raw. "Can we be together? Just for tonight."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your heart aching with the weight of the unspoken goodbye. You nodded, your voice barely above a breath.

"Please."

And then, there was no more distance between you.

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The morning light streamed softly through the curtains, painting the room in golden hues. Hongjoong stirred awake, the weight of sleep heavier than usual, but a comforting warmth grounded him. Instinctively, he snuggled closer, burying his face into the inviting scent that had become his solace.

It took only a moment for the realisation to hit him. The feminine scent, delicate and intoxicating, filled his senses. His heart skipped a beat as he opened his eyes to find you still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, your breathing soft and even.

For a long moment, he stayed still, simply taking you in—the way your hair spilt over the pillow, the peaceful rise and fall of your shoulders, the warmth that radiated from you. Leaning closer, he pressed a tender kiss to your bare shoulder, the memory of last night rushing back like a tidal wave.

Kisses. Endless, intoxicating kisses, your lips against his as if you were trying to fill every unspoken word between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, your hands gripping his shirt, neither of you willing to let go. The clumsy, desperate stumbling through those kisses until you landed on the expanse of his king-sized bed—so often feeling too big, too empty for just one.

Articles of clothing had been shed piece by piece, carelessly scattered across the floor. And then… pure, unrestrained bliss. The feel of your skin against his, the soft sighs and whispered names, the way your bodies moved together like they were meant to fit. It was a night he would never forget, and one he knew he could never have again.

He swallowed hard as reality settled in. It was bittersweet, finally knowing what it was like to have you this close, only to face the cruel truth that he would have to let it all go soon. His gaze fell on the mark on your soft skin, the one that started it all, and he sighed deeply.

It was the right thing to do.

He repeated the mantra in his head, clinging to it like a lifeline. You deserved more—someone who could give you the kind of life you were meant to have, one without fear, without shadows. Someone who wasn't him.

But for now, just for this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tightened his hold on you, his arm curling around your waist as if he could stop time by keeping you close. He etched every detail into his mind: the way your warmth seeped into him, the way your presence calmed his restless heart, the way this morning felt like a fragile dream he never wanted to wake from.

Because soon, it would all be over.

And he would have nothing left but these memories.

His temporary haven shattered with a jarring intrusion. The door to his bedroom flew open, and Jongho rushed in, his expression a mix of concern and urgency. "Hyung, she's not in her room—"

The Anchor's voice faltered mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you, curled up in his leader's embrace. The man sat up quickly, pulling the blanket to cover you to your neck, his glare sharp enough to cut steel. Jongho froze like a deer caught in headlights, his usual composure obliterated by the scene before him.

You stirred at the commotion, blinking yourself awake. It didn't take long to realise what had happened. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you scrambled to free yourself from the blanket and darted off to the attached bathroom. "Excuse me," you mumbled hastily, your voice barely above a whisper, before closing the door behind you.

Jongho stood awkwardly, visibly cringing under Hongjoong's icy glare. "I didn't mean to—"

"Out," the Captain growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The youngest didn't need to be told twice. With a quick bow, he fled the room, muttering apologies under his breath.

Hongjoong exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as the weight of the morning settled on his shoulders. Deciding to give you the privacy you needed, he rose from the bed, grabbed his robe, and slipped it on before leaving the room.

As he stepped into the hall, he was greeted by none other than the Firestarter, leaning casually against the wall with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Had fun, Cap?" Mingi drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "Hope that pussy was worth everything."

Hongjoong's expression darkened instantly, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could rival a storm. "Speak for yourself, Song," he shot back, his voice steady but laced with venom. "Come mock me when you don't need an exiled noblewoman to save your ass time and time again."

Mingi's smirk faltered as Hongjoong took a step closer, his words cutting like daggers. "Don't think I haven't heard about your multiple near-failures. At least I haven't fucked up anything critical. Also," he added, his tone dropping into something bitter and final, "she's leaving today. I hope you're happy."

The weight of Hongjoong's words left Mingi speechless, his cool façade crumbling. His jaw tightened as he struggled to muster a response, but nothing coherent came to mind.

Clearing his throat, he straightened and forced a shrug, attempting to reclaim his composure. "About damn time. Good riddance," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge. Without another word, he turned and stalked off, leaving the gang leader standing there, his chest tight and his mind racing.

As much as he loathed the confrontation, he couldn't help but feel a bitter sense of satisfaction. At least now, Mingi might think twice before throwing careless words around. But the victory was hollow, his thoughts quickly returning to you.

With a deep sigh, he leaned against the wall, his fingers tracing the edge of his robe. The hours ahead loomed like a storm on the horizon, and he knew they would be some of the hardest he'd ever faced.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

The air was thick with the weight of unspoken emotions as the black car idled behind you, its engine a soft hum against the gloomy backdrop. The overcast sky seemed to mirror the heaviness in both your hearts, the grey clouds threatening rain at any moment. You stood before Hongjoong, your trusty tote bag slung over your shoulder, dressed simply but beautifully, your hair pulled into a messy yet endearing style. You tried to smile, but it trembled at the edges, betraying the storm within.

Neither of you spoke right away, the silence filled with everything you wanted to say but couldn't. Instead, you reached into your bag, pulling out the glass flower charm—the delicate token you had cherished for so long.

"Give me your hand," you murmured softly.

He stepped closer without hesitation, his hand extended between you. The roughness of his palm contrasted sharply with the fragility of the charm as you placed it gently into his hand. His fingers curled around it instinctively, the same hand that once had only known destruction now cradling something so delicate with utmost care.

"For you," you said, your voice steady but laden with emotion. "It's no marigold, but—"

He cut you off with a bittersweet smile, the pain in his eyes unmistakable. "I'll cherish it," he promised, his voice quiet but resolute, as though the words themselves were a vow.

He didn't let go of your hand, his grip warm and steady. You nodded, returning his smile. "Good. Treat it with care," you said, stepping closer, your proximity making his breath hitch.

The scent of his familiar cologne wrapped around you as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed against his skin as you whispered, "You did it, Joong. You made it all right."

His eyes fluttered closed, savouring the moment, the warmth of your presence etching itself into his memory. But then, as much as he wanted to keep you there, you pulled away gently, slipping out of his grasp.

Your backward steps toward the waiting car felt like a slow unravelling, each step tugging at the threads of his heart. He fought every instinct to run to you, to pull you back into his arms and beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't.

As you slid into the car and shut the door, he stood rooted to the spot, his chest tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He watched helplessly as the car began to roll forward, taking you further and further from him until you were nothing but a distant blur.

"It's for the best," he whispered to himself, though the words felt hollow. "You did the right thing."

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through his haze of sorrow. Turning, he found one of his men standing hesitantly nearby. "Boss," the man said carefully, "we received an update from Seonghwa. His visit to the Red Room is going to be extended due to... undisclosed circumstances."

And just like that, Hongjoong was thrust back into the chaos of his world. He nodded, his voice cold and detached. "Got it. I'll speak with the others."

He turned and strode back toward the mansion, his steps purposeful despite the turmoil inside him. His men watched him carefully, unsure if the heartbreak would erupt into anger, but he remained composed, his demeanour unreadable.

Once inside, he glanced down at the delicate charm still resting in his palm. It caught the dim light of the hall, glinting faintly like the remnants of a dream. His grip tightened around it, not enough to damage it, but enough to ground himself.

It hurt—god, it hurt—but he found solace in the fact that he had been able to love again, even if only briefly. He didn't know how long it would take for the ache to fade, perhaps it never would, but one thing was certain: he would never forget you.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

The dim light of the room cast long shadows across the walls, the flickering of a single desk lamp providing the only illumination. The figure leaned back in his chair, his gloved fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of the table. Before him lay a folder, its contents an intricate web of intel painstakingly gathered. At the very top, clipped securely, was a photograph of the Black Pirates.

The leader's face was circled in white ink—a mark of vulnerability disguised as power.

"Seems we've secured the Captain's weakness right from the start," the figure murmured, a sinister grin spreading across his face. His tone carried a disturbing mixture of amusement and certainty as he flipped the folder shut, the sound of paper against paper breaking the tense silence.

A subordinate stood nearby, his posture stiff, his eyes darting to the file with barely concealed curiosity. "Should we proceed then, sir?" he asked, his voice low but eager.

The figure chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, and shook his head. "There's no hurry," he replied, his gloved hand resting atop the closed file like a predator savouring its next move. "Time is what we've got. Let them believe they've found their footing. Let them think they're safe."

He pushed the file to the side, leaning forward, his grin widening as his eyes gleamed with cruel intent. "We'll gather them all, one by one. No need to rush—it's always better when the prey doesn't see the trap until it's too late."

The subordinate nodded, though a hint of unease flickered across his features. "Understood, sir."

The figure reached for a glass of whiskey sitting untouched on the desk, swirling the amber liquid as if it contained the answers to every question. "Patience," he said, almost to himself, his voice low and reverent. "Patience wins wars. Let's see how far the mighty gang can go when their carefully constructed world begins to crumble."

He raised the glass in a mock toast, the light catching the golden liquid. "To the Black Pirates. And to the beginning of their end."

The room fell silent again, the only sound the faint creak of the leather chair as the figure leaned back, eyes fixed on the file. Somewhere, far from the machinations of this dark plot, Hongjoong might have felt a shiver down his spine. But for now, he was blissfully unaware, the weight of his loss still fresh, the memory of your departure his only torment.

And so, the game began.

Would you believe it? About 90% of this was drafted in a sleep-deprived state HAHA the first thing I do as soon as I get home from work is write this, so I genuinely hope this met expectations!

Are you or are you not surprised by the lack of a happy ending? If you know me well (especially readers who have been here since TWTHH), you probably saw this coming🤠

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[lyrqxa]

here i was assuming you didnt even think about the au anymore and youre just waiting in the wings with an evil grin and a whole ass chapter??? losing my marbles ngl ...

aster really just said call me fighter call me lover fr...cant wait for your reference of him to drop fanart

its just so insane to me i wasnt expecting that you were working on SO MANY stuff??? like wowow man sure keep up with the hard word it rocks...i feel like i didnt honor it like im being honest it ACTUALLY ROCKS!!! gotta love seeing so many creative ideas!!! puts your vessel narinder and god lamb on the blender and makes vitamin of them

i have so much written down for the ktc au theres some devastating scenes that i am SO excited to write about . smacks ktc narinder. this guy can hold so much suffering. i’m glad u like asty too !! i think if u drew fanart of tjem id explode

sorry i was so quiet about the ktc au!!! i literally just draw everything that comes to my mind and it includes memes so i have so much unfinished shit rn. i was staying silent ab the whole thing cause i wanted to have a lot of the stuff hit the first time reading it HAHA but dw . more content soon

lastly, vessel nari and god lamb would not be a good vitamin unfortunately 💔 they are full of mental illness

[fishshapedbun]

about Romantic Killer (BIG SPOILERS)

ok i just finished watching Romantic Killer and it's so good wtf????????? the plot developed so much better than i was expecting at first?????? Anzu is such a good character and such a good friend????? so i need to ramble about it bare with me for a moment

the show is hilarious and i love how exaggerated the funny expressions are, but it also has some rly serious part damn im legit impressed (Anzu and Kazuki's first hug kinda got me tearing up ngl)

each of the characters is slowly developed so well. like damn. Kazuki's story is specially detailed and it caught me by surprise when they showed the flashbacks of the first episodes after we found out why he became so distant and conscious of people and everything made so much sense. and he felt so realistic in the way he reacted, his struggle to open up and every single time he started feeling anxious and panicking in public was so well done (and i wanted to take him away from the crowd and pat his head every time ugh T_T). i was just slightly dissapointed that right on the last episode he admited that he started crushing on Anzu bc after the entire season of them just being an amazing duo of friends i was so hopeful we would finally get a 'love interest' turned only best friend (bc lets admit its not like she doesnt already have enough ppl interested in her without Kazuki being one of them too). bc i was enjoying headcanoning him as aroace as i was watching :') oh well. maybe if it ends up not having a s2 i can pretend he realized he wasnt in love and he just loves her platonically a lot! if they dont give me the aroace boy i will rip it from their cold dead hands! :D

and i loved the plot twist on how Junta was actually her true childhood friend all along and she took so long to realize... his feelings were totally real awwwww and he is really a sweetheart, i like the childhood friend trope! buuuut i gotta admit im just living for the huge crush Makoto clearly has on Junta. boyo isn't hiding it very well. that scene when Makoto holds Saki's hand and takes her away from the triggering situation? that was gay x lesbian solidarity right there !

and Saki OH MY GOD SAKI. the episode focused on showing how the two of them became friends and how important Anzu is to her and the way she has always defended her and what Saki went through oh god... her story was so realistic and seeing her reaction seeing that stupid ass ex was such a realistic depiction of a kind of trauma like that. she's such a good character im so happy they developed her so well and didnt make her just an irrelevant school friend character!!! (also she's a lesbian i am not taking criticism- /hj)

i need to mention how Anzu is absolutely bisexual btw. her reaction to meeting Kazuki's sister? she literally straight up said "i'll fall for her" c'mon

and Riri!!! omg!!!! little genderfluid chaos gremlin!!!!!!!! i was so so happy that not only Anzu girbossed her way to getting them out of their punishment but she got them to permanently live on the human world AND officially made them one of the love interests??? ULTIMATE GIRLBOSS MOVE Anzu i love you so much dear. so ngl i lowkey would like seeing Anzu end up with Riri/Rio the most ksjefhskdjf badass girl x genderfluid gremlin??? so much potential cmon they literally were punished for breaking magic rules bc they care too much about Anzu that's so fucking cute skjfhsdf

and Hijiri!!!!! from a little annoying rich bastard to a little just slightly annoying tsundere rich baby!!! i really like that he's interested in her and all but ultimately he's just there working and helping her out a lot like he becomes genuinely a great friend??

so yeah. as one can tell from the immense number of written words here i have liked this anime quite a lot. binged it in a day, all at once, no regrets. i'll be happy if there's a 2nd season if it is as good as this 1st one, bc this was amazing! so glad i decided to give it a chance <3 there's even more things i could talk about here but i dont wanna write a novel chapter of a post so i'll stop here LMAO

but really, if you're into comedy, romance and some nice character development, you won't regret giving Romantic Killer a chance :)

[no-spices-just-pisces]

STRANGER THINGS SEASON 4 VOL 2 SPOILERSS!!!! dont read if u havent watched it yet

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!???!!???!!

we all readlly though eddie was safe…god i was crying so hard when he died in dustin’s arms. now he is never gonna graduate. and when dustin talked to his uncle- i hate the fact that the entire town thinks he is a murderer and cult leader when in fact he is a hero and a hell of a guitar player. when he said “chrissy this is for you” i was so proud. but tbh i wished he would’ve ran this time and not be the hero. i really hoped it was a joke and he would somehow make it to the portal and to a hospital like i was literally thinking EDDIE WAKE UP I DONT LIKE THIS EDDIE WAKE UP the whole time

and now i cry when i think about the fact that eddie told dustin to never change. but guess what he changed now he is more traumatized by your death!!!

when i thought max died too i was ready to never watch the show again but now im still worried about what is gonna happen to her. like those arms and legs dont look good ngl

and dont get me started on mike and will!! if mike wheeler would’ve paid more attention he would have remembered that el said in a letter that will doesnt want to show her the painting she thinks is for a girl. then he would have realised that el couldn’t have asked will to paint that exact painting and tell him what to do. but mike bought it bcs it was what he wanted to hear. the entire speach will gave (wich was beautiful) touched mike to much and pushed him to say i love you to el. BUT IT WASNT ABOUT EL YOU IDIOT IT WAS ABOUT WILL!! like cmon why else would he cry. it was so clear he was talking about himself. jonathan noticed, i noticed, god i think even argyle noticed, but mike didnt cause he is am oblivious little bastard. i was so excited about will showing him the painting and mike’s monologue but ofc they still made them about eleven. its just cause will is so selfless. but it got me thinking, if mike figures out that it wasnt about el, and it was about will, does he finally realize he has feelings for will or is at least a little conflicted between el and will?? and what was that thing about his life starting when he met el i though the best thing he did was befriending will. beyond disappointed michael..

i like eleven i just think she is better off alone like there is no chemistry no flavour in mileven it was cute when they were kids now its boring

im also a little a disappointed that will didnt het vecna’d. dont get me wrong i dont want him in any danger and nothing close to what happened to max but i just wanted him to have some more relevance to the plot again cause i miss the times he was connected to the upside down. believe when i say i waiting for that neck thing that he does. and maybe i kinda wanted mike to go into helicopter mode if vecna got will and smack some sense into him and remind him how he felt when will was missing.

now im also disappointed in steve and nancy. just leave it behind you no need to bring back the old romance nancy is supposed to be happy with jonathan and steve is good alone now that he cant be with eddie.. got i wanted them to flirt some more at least they had so much chemistry!! i really hope steve still had eddie’s vest as a reminder of him. still hoping he is his bisexual awakening and he will get talking to robin or dustin about him in the future and say he missed him too

and im glad nothing happened to robin protect the gays

its just that there were so many theories and we expected so many things to happen and they didnt and there are so many unanswered questions left and i cant wait another 3 years for season 5. im a little disappointed tbh

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh IWA ROUTE

a/n: uwuwuwuwuwu my mans iwa chan :’)

IM A SIMP FOR IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

uwu filo!iwa in this :)

and also, listen to lauv while reading this since i wrote this and that song was playing on repeat O_O and also this song

this is my self-request uwu

HES SUCH A POUTY BABIE BLS LOVE ON HIM

onwards we goooo

hihihihihihi yey im so excited for this yall dont even know

ANYWAYS

so,,,,

when iwa first saw you, he thought you were just a cute little thing

your shorter height, your puffy cheeks, and the wide eyes you had whenever you saw someone, or him, do a really cool spiking move

he initially thought of you as a cute little sister hes never had

ehehe that finna change

then the,,,, bullying thing happened

if youd like to read this part, its right here

when he saw you bloodied, all battered,

dear lordie he was finna break some ankles

ONG I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT SANGWOO YET HERE I AM

like that image of you will probably stay in his memory until he dies of the ripe age of 200

ngl it kinda traumatized him a little bit of how tired and pained you look with the tears rolling down your face and the blood that was escaping your body through your wounds

god you didnt deserve any of that

you deserved the world and the universe yet some people dared to take away your worth

ooo he was so mad

miyo was,,,, hurt??

can i say that??

i dont wanna,,,, explain bara arms iwa hurting a girl so youre gonna have to imagine that for yourselves

but at the end when they said slap, he didnt just ✨S L A P ✨ her

he ✨ B R O K E   S O M E   A N K L E S ✨

oiks is actually scared of him after that

like oiks had to peel him off of her and towards the infirmary where you and the team were

‘IWAIZUMI HAJIME, STOP!’

oof the first and last time oikawa tooru ever said that full name

he was breathing heavy and he was so ✨ A N G R Y ✨ with what she did to you yet he hears your soft scoldings, telling him off for hurting a girl

he wanted to see you

like right now

iwa tore himself from oikawa’s grasp and ✨ N Y O O M E D ✨ himself to the nurse’s office

there, you sat on the bed with the others scattered either on other beds or on the floor 

you smiled at the sight of him and he walked towards you and engulfed you in his arms

‘youre okay now. im here’

he whispered and you buried your face into his chest, breathing in his unique scent

lavender mixed with peppermint

he refused to leave your side so he ✨ M A D E ✨ some room on the bed beside you to sit and he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close

you held his hand while oikawa talked to you and as you shamefully bowed your head

but you were forgiven and everything was all good until the third years really got into plan

makki and mattsun promised to handle it all as they had family in the justice field while oikawa would go and get the girl suspended

‘but what about me?! i want-’

‘iwaizumi, you literally hit her. it’d be best if you’re not involved right now as you were the only one who physically touched her in a harmful manner like that’

ong when it come to y/n, the meme team is replaced by the assassin team

he tried to fight but in the end, 3 overpowered 1 and he was forced to sit back and opted to comfort you instead

he made sure you were safe to walk home but that day, you were the one who asked him to spend time with him

just you two

like after seeing him seethingly enter back into the room, you reached out and held his hand in yours, eyes trained on your fingers fiddling with his

‘iwa-san,,,, you said you downloaded the new godzilla movie?’

you whispered but he could still hear you and his heart swelled at your meek voice

‘yea, i did. and my mom bought those chips you like’

your eyes flitted up to meet his eyes and a soft smile spread on your lips and there was this thumping in his heart

maybe that was the first time that iwaizumi hajime felt differently towards you

a smile that seemed to be differently perceived than the rest

and it wasnt for the whole team

it was for him

and him alone

the trek to his house was quiet but you would hum nursery rhymes or the songs you heard earlier in the radio while skipping every few steps and tightly holding on to his hand

iwaizumi’s olive eyes watched you still radiate energy despite being so hurt for a long time

they then trailed to your linked hands and he unintentionally squeezed it, only figuring out he did it when you looked up to him and squeezed it back with a smile

he wanted to do something to make you forget of what happened

he didnt want you to think about the cruelty and pain so he was going to make sure you would continue smiling 

thankfully, his parents werent home so he wouldnt have to explain why he has a bandage-covered girl with him 

iwa led you upstairs to where his room was and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside

tiny action figurines of animes like bakugo from boku no hero academia or a tiny pikachu on his desk

there was a large country flag that you didnt recognize and a few godzilla posters and volleyball players decorating beside it

however, besides those normal things you wouldve expected,

there were many polaroids

polaroid pictures that were everywhere with no specific layout pattern and just placed anywhere that had room

iwa watched as you dazedly walked forward and entered the room to move towards the wall by his desk that had the most pictures against it

from pictures of him and oikawa to the third years to him and his parents or just the sunrise and human silhouettes

your fingers reached forward and traced the picture of him and the third years when they were still first years and took a spontaneous trip to the beach

‘mattsun stole his dad’s car and drove us to the beach without a license’

iwaizumi’s voice answered your questions and you looked back, shimmering eyes

this room,,, wasnt just a normal, teenage boy’s room

this was a room that represented iwaizumi hajime

from his natural character description like his love for volleyball evident in the volleyball player posters to the underneath description that was hidden like his love for godzilla and his love of taking pictures of the people he cares about the most

it was all that made up iwaizumi hajime

your feet took you to stand in front of him, still standing at the doorway, and you stood on your toes to try and be eye-level with him

‘youre really cool, iwa-san’

you whispered and his ears turned red, not from the compliment, but by the close distance between you two

iwa clearedhis throat and ruffled your hair roughly, pushing you down slightly back to the balls of your feet

‘i already knew that, brat. now go and sit over there and be comfortable or whatever while i go get the food’

he hurriedly turned to hide his growing red face but you stopped him

‘iwa-san,,, ano,,, can,, i borrow a hoodie?’

you mumbled, nervously thinking he might refuse 

but he grunted a response, not bothering to turn around

‘take your pick’

you smiled and thanked him before bounding over to the wardrobe that was pushed against the wall across his bed that was against the corner by his window

inside had so many hoodies and there were also shirts that were hung up on the other half

they were all graphic tees that either had american bands or anime or game references

opting for a mint green hoodie that says ‘SONIC NYOOM’, you had an undershirt under your button up and as you slipped the bloodied long sleeve off, he swung the door open, eyes focused on the tray of coke filled glasses

then he looked up and almost dropped it at the sight of you,,, like that

‘OH MY GOD SORRY’

he shrieked and carefully but hurriedly backtracked back to the hallway

ofc you were shocked too but you quickly put the hoodie on and went to get him

iwaizumi’s heart was hammering in his chest and he was VERY red with embarrassment 

how could he see you like that?!

a girl who wasnt his shouldnt be seen like that by his eyes!

a touch on his arm reminded him of his position and he was still holding the tray but it was clear from the liquid in the cups that he was shaking slightly

‘iwa-san, its okay. i still had a shirt on so dont misunderstand’

you reasoned and he nodded, still not looking at you

the beginning of the movie was quite awkward as you both were sitting next to each other on the floor, backs against his mattress while the laptop played godzilla in front of yall

but it seems it was just him who was feeling this way bc you were intrigued at this weird monster that was squshing building under its foot and you continued munching on the food

iwa stood up and coughed

‘im going to take a shower’

you paused it and stared up at him, a chip halfway in your mouth

‘oh? you want me to wait for you?’

he agressively shook his head

‘no! its okay i watched it already. just,,,, watch it’

at the end, his words came out jumbled in his hurry to go and calm his heart down

you shrugged and unpaused the movie to continue watching

iwa spent his time in the shower, thinking and trying to think of stupid thoughts like the time oikawa almost choked on a peanut when they were in middle school to distract him of thoughts of how adorable you were

ONG HE WAS JUST SHOWERING AND INNOCENTLY DOING SHOWER THINGS

‘no, i said she was like a sister to me. and a sister she’ll remain’

okay ngl even though theyre not related, im worried yall would be like ‘iNcESt’ but bls a lot of people have tried to sibling-zoned people yet realized they liked them in THAT way

as he wrapped himself with a towel, he then realized

oh my god he didnt bring clothes

LMAO NOOOO IWAAAAA

iwa frantically looked around and he saw his mother’s sakura themed robe and he paused, arguing silently with him if he should wear it

well, it was either that or he went back into the room and showed you,,,,,, this

sucking in a sharp breath, he kept the towel around his waist and slipped his arms through the tight arm holes and he awkwardly tried to keep it tied since he was so much bigger than his tiny mom

what is happening

you saw the door opening and excitedly turned to tell him about this one scene when your voice died down in your throat at the sight of him 

here was iwaizumi hajime, ultra muscle buff man who gets abs with a simple glance of the gym, wearing an all too-tight pink, cherry blossom print robe that was so tight the tie around it was shaking to keep it together

‘dont’

he whispered and that snapped your remaining surprise to double over in laughter

‘its so cute! iwa-san, youre so cute!’

you shrieked and he growled and hurriedly went to to grab grey sweatpants and a shirt before running straight back to the bathroom

when he finally came back out, his face was still red and he was pouting as he sat next to you back to his seat

he could feel you staring at him while looking constipated as you held your laugh in and the second your eyes met, your giggles fell out

iwa rolled his eyes

‘yes yes let it out’

‘hehe, iwa-san, i didnt know you had that style’

‘it isnt! i didnt want to walk in here practically naked with you in the room!’

he growled and you nodded, still not quite believing it

‘hai hai. just say you like pink, i wont tell’

you waved and iwa felt offended

‘what do you mean ‘hai hai’?! its really not!’

your lips pursed to keep more giggles in and iwa growled again before lunging to grab your sides and tickling you 

of course being careful to not touch your wounds

you shrieked at the ticklish feeling and iwa laughed as you made weak attempts to push him off

‘huh? what was that? whatd you say? cant talk anymore, can ya?’

he teased

‘NO!!!! IWA-SAAAAN!!!!!’

you shouted in between your laughter and he finally let up when you squealed out your apologies and promised to never say it again

you breathed air into your lungs and sat back up to recollect yourselves 

iwa saw the strands that escaped your bun and they were scattered everywhere looking messy with your flushed cheeks and teary eyes

oh my god you were beautiful

he was so happy that you still kept that smile despite what happened and he was going to fight to keep it there

forever

it was about nearly the end when you finally realized how different iwaizumi’s hair looked

‘oi, iwa-san, your hair is not naturally spiky?’

he continued eating the chips while still watching the movie

‘what would you expect? even shittykawa’s hair is like this. did ya know that he wakes up extra early to curl it into that shitty mess?’

your jaw dropped

‘EEEHHHH???!!!!!!!’

later, you asked him how he does his hair for school and he blindly reached for the gel that was resting on his desk before tossing it to you

‘here’

you looked at it and flickered over to his hair and then you had the greatest realization

‘GODZILLA-SAMA!’

you pointed and he stopped eating, turning to give you a confused look

‘ha?’

you shrieked in an another round of laughter

‘IWA-SAN LIKES GODZILLA-SAMA SO MUCH HE DOES HIS HAIR AFTER HIM!!!!’

you doubled over to the floor, clutching your stomach and iwaizumi’s flustered expression made you laugh harder

he knew you were smart but,,, not this smart

you figured out his secret

the secret he’s hidden since he was practically a toddler

even his best friend, the guy hes known since he was born, never made the connection

yet here you are, figuring it out not even a year of knowing him

was this part of the many reasons he,, felt his heart beat for you?

oikawa was relieved that you had the bright twinkle in your eyes the next time he saw you and you were actively talking to iwaizumi in that early morning practice

‘oh? y/n-chan, is iwa-chan your best friend now?’

he tried not to sound jealous for his own best friend’s closeness to you and he added a teasing smile for extra measure

okay that hurted me a bit

iwaizumi snarled and blasted the volleyball towards his face before he could even yell or shout

‘iwa-san, dont do that’

you chided softly, small hands wrapping around his muscly arm

but iwa patted your head

‘deserving people deserve things to happen to them’

you rolled your eyes but smiled at him

‘hai hai’

the next week, iwa still kept a close eye on you in case someone else decided to mess with you 

but you told him that you swear youd tell him if someone did and he trusts you so he backed off a little

one day, he was eating lunch with the other third years in their classroom when you busted through the door, excitedly holding your phone

‘iwa-san! i figured out what country your flag was!’

he was halfway of shoving rice in his mouth when iwa looked at you

‘oh? you couldve just asked me though?’

you pouted and went to pull a chair from another desk to sit beside him

‘nooo. i wanted to work for that information. so you’re from the philippines, iwa-san?’

he nodded proudly

‘yep’

your eyes shone with interest

‘really?! you look japanese so it must be one of your parents. hey, iwa-san, which island are you from? i read about them and they have like 7641 islands-’

the others watched as you read through the article in your phone and iwa wasnt even following your words, instead staring at you with a dazed look and a lovesick smile

mattsun, makki, and oikawa exchanged looks of surprise because in all the years theyve known him especially oikawa, iwa was never interested in girls and such

he was a straight forward man with goals and straight sight to get them done with no distractions like relationships or love

yet here he was

slowly falling in love with you without even knowing he is

he continued to fall with the simplest things about you

from the perfume that you wore everyday to the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear when you were talking to someone

little quirks he used to miss was now being noticed even if you were right behind him and not in his line of vision

now, the boys were starting to see the difference of their precious ace

it was as if when he started to like you, they knew immediately by how he was acting

then one day during practice, you were late and they were all looking around for you and when they couldnt find you, they met back in the gym with nervous looks

iwa was already pacing around, a scary aura radiating off of him, and kindaichi, who went with him to look around the school, warned the others of iwaizumi’s worry

‘he was slamming doors open and he was walking so fast i had to run to even keep up with him’

then you busted through the gym door

you were actually picking up food for the team and sweets and you were held up when makki’s puffs were still being cooked

they rallied around you to make sure you werent hurt and you assured them but iwa pulled them away like picked them up and threw them off to the side and took you in his arms

iwa thought you were hurt and he was so worried something happened to you again

the hug was bone-crushing with how hard he was squeezing you but you felt his worry though and you freed your arms to wrap them around his neck

‘im okay, iwa-san’

you whispered in his ear and he nodded

‘let me hold you for a second’

he mumbled and you nodded

‘oi, theres food in the bags so make sure you eat it all. coach paid for it all so dont leave behind anything’

the mention of the food distracted them from you and iwa and they piled on top of each other to reach their food first

iwa was grateful that you distracted the others from seeing him being vulnerable towards you

‘i thought-’

‘shh,,, you have me right here, right now. safe and sound’

you knew how much seeing you all battered messed him up and his attempt of making you forget about it has been

and his worry of you being gone without no sign of where you went will forever be there and he will always have that thought in the back ofhis mind

the next time you came over, you actually met his parents

since you went home early before, you didnt catch his parents when they came home around 10 minutes after you left

but this time, they were already home with his mom cooking dinner while his father was sitting on the dining chair reading a newspaper

iwa walked through the door, shouting he was home, and you did the same thing to be customary

oof his parents were surprised

his mom turned around to share a look of surprise with her husband

sure they havent seen tooru in a while but they were pretty sure his voice wasnt that high pitched

right?

‘hajime, did you hit tooru so much you ruined his-’

then his mother stopped talking at the sight of you holding iwa’s hand tightly when yall stepped around the corner

you sheepishly smiled at them and bowed your head in greeting

oh my

so this was why iwaizumi hajime-san was really really really handsome

his parents were freaking good looking

like his mother was aphrodite with her flawless melanin skin and doe shaped eyes with a mole under her left eye

and his father was like ares, so handsome yet still manly and his appearance was a special type of good-looking with his buffness and ruffed appearance

‘iwa-san, i didnt know your parents were gods’

you mumbled, still staring at them

iwaizumi choked and coughed, flustered

‘oh my!’

his mother placed a hand over her mouth

‘hello’

his father stood up to walk in front of you and held his hand out

‘i’m hajime’s father’

you let go of hajime’s hand to shake his own with both of your hands

‘really nice to meet you! i’m l/n y/n! seijoh volleyball manager! first year!’

you introduced then stepped aside to fully bow 90 degrees

iwaizumi thought it was so cute of how flustered you were at meeting his parents

‘ay nako! nak, i didnt know you had such a beautiful girlfriend!’

she squealed and hurriedly went to stand in front of you and gently grasped your arms to stand you back straight and took a good look at you

‘youre so beautiful, iha. nice skin, pretty eyes, ang ganda!’

even with your research of tagalog, you didnt quite understand what she was saying

iwa noticed your slightly confused expression and he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets

‘sorry, my nay speaks in taganese when she gets excited’

‘t-taganese?’

‘tagalog and japanese’

you nodded in understanding

it was time to put your basic reserach to test

‘hello po’

you greeted her and nervously took her hand and pressed the back of it to your forehead before slowly lowering it down and letting go

her wide eyes made you think you did something bad or even offensive!

‘i-i’

‘HAY NAKO, HAJIMEE~!’

she shrieked 

‘YUNG-!!! YUNG-!!!’

okay im terrified

iwa noticed his mother’s malfunction and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and veered her back to her kitchen

‘sorry about her, l/n-chan. its just,,,, hajime hasnt brought home a girl before. and you doing that mustve done it in for her’

you worriedly watched hajime calm his mom down with a smile and talking to her hushed

in their perspective,,,

‘shes so nice, nak! marry her, okay? shes very pretty and she made an effort to please your nanay, so go and marry her!’

ohmylord im nervous

initially, iwa only wanted to go and hang out with you and watch a movie

not have a full dinner with his family

lmao i shouldve told you that youve been friends for months now

his mother cooked sinigang and adobo and more filipino dishes, adding even more when she saw you were joining them

the dining table was covered with a large plate full of food and you were so fascinated because this was a side of iwa that you wanted to know more about

‘wow!’

you said, not thinking, at the deep-fried fish that still had its eyeballs intact

iwa genuinely thought you would’ve shyed away from it in disgust but your eyes were glistening with genuine interest

‘iwa-san! youre so lucky you get to eat this stuff!’

you told him, looking over at his direction

while mrs iwaizumi was lading in the soup into the big bowl, mr iwaizumi was sitting at the dining table, watching your interaction and hajime telling you what each food was and your noises of surprise

he watched his son laugh when you said the palabok reminded you of the orange boy hinata 

and he also watched his son look at you so lovestruck and exactly like how he looks at his wife

soon, his mother finished and they rounded the table before saying a quick prayer to bless the food and digging in

‘so, what do you want to start with, iha?’

mrs iwaizumi asked and your wide eyes looked around

‘hm, im not sure. whats your favorite iwa-san?’

you looked to your right towards hajime who was busy eating and stopped before pointing his lips towards a direction

‘that one’

‘hah?’

you asked 

mrs iwaizumi laughed at her son’s actions

‘sorry, l/n-chan, my son has adapted my traits. he was pointing to this, adobo. do you want some?’

‘yes please’

the smell made your mouth water and you started to tuck in

maybe it was your managerial instincts, but you used your napkin to wipe hajime’s lips and he was also used to this and turned his head to make it easier for you then he went to grab the water jug and re-fill your glass

once it was done, you both silently went back to eating

his parents watched his exchange and it was like watching a married couple taking care of each other

‘so, l/n-chan, you said you were their manager’

mr iwaizumi started and you nodded, wiping your lips

‘yes. i have been for a while now and please, call me y/n’

‘hajime actually told us he had a new manager for his team and tooru told us too. but we didnt know you were a girl. its just so interesting for hajime to bring you home as he has never really had any female friends’

mrs iwaizumi’s comment made you chuckle and iwa’s eyes widened in embarassment

‘nay! of course ive had female friends! ive had friends from all genders!’

he reasoned but you teasingly smiled at him

‘ah, im not really surprised. iwa-san doesnt exactly have the appearance that girls are brave enough to approach’

he sent you a betrayed glance

‘hah?! what’s that supposed to mean?!’

you shrugged, going back to your food

‘im just saying that you always have this intense look in your eyes and youre always frowning. but its cute so its fine. and besides, i dont think theyve seen you laugh since you dont really smile a lot, iwa-san’

‘but you’ve seen me smile!’

‘eung. but its only to me. if they knew the stuff i knew like you being a godzilla fan or your collection of succelents, theyd see you like oikawa-san’

‘HAH?! YOU SEE ME LIKE SHITTYKAWA?!’

mrs iwaizumi held her husband’s hand on the table as they watched you both bicker and tease each other with a smile

hajime has always been on the rougher side of things and he doesnt really have many close friends other than the team and even then, tooru is the only one he can really be himself around

yet here you are, bringing out the boy hajime really is and making him laugh, a sound his parents dont really hear outside the house

and your eyes

god, your eyes held admiration, life,,,, and you might not know this yet,, but love

her eyes trailed her son who teasingly headbutted you and you faking a surprise and doing the same

then you heard his father’s cough which brought you back to where you were and the situation and the people that were there

you felt embarrassment creeping up inside you and you bowed

‘im sorry for acting like that, iwaizumi-san. i-’

‘no, dont apologize, darling. please, dont’

her soft smile made the nerves in you ease and hajime’s father winked at him and he knew exactly what his father was trying to say

after dinner, you volunteered to wash the plates but they veered you away from there and towards the living room 

‘oh my god, pops! stop her!’

hajime whined because he knows what his mother was going to do

she was going to show him his baby pictures

you sat on the beige couch and watched as she reached under the coffee table and revealed a few albums that had iwaizumi hajime written on the cover

‘now, y/n-chan, hajime wasnt always this pouty. in fact, he used to always have a smile on his face and laughed at the littlest things! like right here! a leaf fell on him and he-’

stories of his childhood was exchanged throughout the night and you were laughing so hard that tears were falling out of your eyes while hajime wrapped your shoulders with his arm and he would squeeze you tightly whenever you made fun of him

‘oh dear! iwa-san! you-!’

you didnt finished as you continued to laugh and he sighed

‘nay, can we go eat dessert now?’

he asked his mother and she was beginning to feel sorry for him so she smiled and nodded

‘okay. hajime, come help me’

‘iwaizumi-san, i can-’

‘no, y/n-chan. dont you worry your pretty little head about anything and just look through more of these pictures’

hajime followed his mother to their kitchen before she stopped and turned around

his mother’s height was around 5′1 so she had to look up to meet his eyes and her hands were clasped around his biceps

she is definitely beautiful and he cursed at how little he got from his mother other than her skin color

mrs iwaizumi married her husband and immigrated to japan to have a family and your polite action from earlier moved her as she hasnt experienced that in nearly 2 decades

‘nay, shes,,,, just a friend’

he reasoned, a wobbly smile to cover up his want for that title to change

yet mothers def knows best and saw right through it

she gave him a firm look with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips

‘nak, dont lie to yourself. i raised you to never tell a lie and lying to yourself is considered lying to someone. she’s not your KAibigan, shes your kaIBIGan’

now, hajime knew a little bit of tagalog as his mother made sure he was able to at least speak to his relatives back home

so he got a hint of what she was saying yet was confused 

then he realized it

his blush creeped up his neck and he chuckled, ducking his head low to avoid his mother’s eyes

‘nak, listen to me. papunta ka pa lang, pabalik na ako. youre still growing and you may be confused right now, but make sure to think wisely and dont live with regrets. nanay doesnt want you to go through it all by yourself since she knows how hard it was. so please, listen to me and pursue her. shes special, hajime. she makes you so, so happy. i see it in your eyes, her eyes, god has fated you together. i feel it’

now if a filipino mother actually tells their son to go after a girl, thats a pretty big thing as its known that mothers are the hardest to convince and are fiercely protective of their sons, especially if its an only son, but mrs iwaizumi literally tells hajime to go court you because she sees how happy you make him and is willing to let hajime go to you 

definitely his mother’s words stuck to him and as he walked you home, he was busy thinking that he was quiet and you were worried as he would be talking right now

‘iwa-san? you okay?’

you asked and he blinked, taken back to reality from his daydream

‘hm, yea’

he answered to look at you

hes been pining for months now and he slipped his hand into yours, holding it tightly

uwu if you want to see iwa moments with y/n, read through the seijoh manager series as theres a lot of them in there

he wanted you yet, he knew it would be selfish of him to keep you in the future

he would be a college student while you’re in your 2nd year

would you want to be so far away from him?

could you handle it?

‘yanno, iwa-san, your dad told me something interesting’

you suddenly said, squeezing his hand and kicking rocks while looking up at the night sky

‘what was it? something embarrassing?’

he immediately feared that they told you that story when he was still potty training and he fell straight into the toilet 

‘hmm,,, no. he told me that he met your nanay when she was a high school student and he was a in an intern at your lolo’s company’

iwa listened and he had a smile at how you said the tagalog word for grandfather

‘he said she almost ran him over by her bike and she fled but they met again when she visited your lolo. through that, they became friends and then she confessed to him. apparently, he declined because she was younger than him, although just 3 years, and he was leaving for his own country in a few months so he didnt know if she would wait for him’

were,,,, you reading his mind?

iwa knew of his parents story yet with you telling it, it sounded a million times more interesting

‘yet she promised him. thats it, just a promise. that she would remain faithful to him, she would keep herself for him and when she finally graduates, she would go and find him and they could be happy together. he said it was the longest 3 years of his life yet when he saw in the airport, he felt like the wait was worth it. because he gets to hold the embodiment of happiness in his arms for the rest of his life’

you finished and he hummed

‘times have changed, y/n’

‘even you?’

you stopped walking and he naturally stopped too

‘would you wait for me like he did if i promised myself to you? if i promised you that despite the few years of waiting, i would still be yours and remain yours until we’re ready to be together?’

WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!!!!

iwa’s heart was drumming in his chest and he wanted so desparately to look at you in the eyes but you were making that impossible as your head was bowed and your eyes were fixed on the concrete you both stood on

‘of course, i would’

your head snapped up and e/c clashed with olive eyes 

‘i would wait for you. we may,,, be young right now. and they might think we’re,,, being impulsive. but i dont care. because right now, all that matters, is you and me. we can think about the consequences later, but right now, i just want to kiss you’

he admitted, red ears seen by the moonlight

your body shook

‘do it, no balls’

well,,,, he has the balls

and under the moon, at 8:34 pm, iwaizumi hajime kissed you

OML THIS REMINDS ME OF THAT SEIJOH SHORT WHEN HE WAS TALKING TO OIKAWA AND HIS NEIGHBORS ARE LIKE ‘AH SHITE HERE WE GO AGAIN’

it didnt come as a surprise to the team when yall announced your relationship

well,, you both actually didnt tell them outright until like weeks later

what can you say?

you and iwa are very private people and you dont really like to show off in public

even though yall lit rally are stuck to the hip and he does things that he doesnt even think hes doing but he is totally doing

you were only caught by,,, guess who

mrs iwaizumi

it was weeks when she met up with mrs oikawa bc theyre totally best friends and thats why their sons are best friends

she told her of her son’s girlfriend and how sweet you were and how mrs oikawa should be jealous that her son doesnt have a girlfriend like that and the standards for oikawa’s future girlfriend was raised just by that teasing

oikawa literally came into after school practice after a phone call with his mother, fuming

you were talking to kindaichi and yahaba with iwa beside you, arm around your waist totally not obvious guys

and yall just saw an angry oikawa stomping towards yall

‘y/n-chan, iwa-chan, why the hell did my mom just call me and tell me that im not allowed to bring home a girl if she doesnt have h/c with s/c (skin color) and e/c and h/m (height measurement)?’

you shrugged

‘oikawa-san, i’ve never even met your mom before’

but iwa had a hunch

‘ahh,,,, my mom mustve been bragging to your mom. yanno how they are’

oikawa shot him a disbelieving look

‘IWA-CHAN! ITS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND I DONT! BUT ITS WORSE THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS AFFECTING MY FUTURE ONE!’

he ranted, completely unaware that he just outed your entire relationship to the team

tbh they werent even surprised

like they were all ‘damn now shes taken. but cant say i didnt see that coming’

they took it pretty well too

they know how iwa is and they literally respect this mans and if anything, out of the whole team, he is the best candidate for your boyfriend

dating iwa is totally normal and yall just have increased touches?? like i dont know how to explain like he’s constantly holding your hand or arm around your waist or shoulder etc

literally nothing changed

you still have dinners at his house and iwa also knows your family and all that

and the most important thing is,

he kept that promise

even when he was literally at the other side of the world,

he still remained yours and you kept your own promise and waited patiently for his return

OOOOO TIMESKIP IWAIZUMI HAJIME (27) ATHLETE TRAINER

a little girl with bouncing dark brown hair was giggling as she maneuvered herself around the tall people

a shout from her parents and little sister was only making her run faster until she crashed into the legs of the person she’s been looking for

his blue jersey was similar to hers and she raised her arms up with a bright smile

‘uncle!’

she yelled and he chuckled before hoisting her up to his arms

‘ah, reyna-chan, didnt mom and dad tell you to wait for them? look! tala-chan is crying because you left her’

she followed his finger to her little sister, who was in her father’s arms, crying and reaching out for her

‘nee-chan!’

she screeched

finally, her parents were there and you were scolding her for running off

‘reyna, just dont do that again’

you said and she nodded, pouting and holding her uncle’s thumb

‘thank you, tooru-san. i dont know what i would do if she got lost’

oikawa grinned then gently patted the hat-covered head of the newborn baby girl that was strapped to your chest

‘hehe, its okay, y/n-chan. after all! uncle is always there to save reyna-chan!’

she shrieked when he held her up and hajime shook his head in his antics

‘where’s the others? i saw them in the stands but-’

he was cut off when he heard the shouts and yells from the other side that could only belong to your boys

‘woooo!!!!’

kindaichi’s voice echoed through the place and mattsuhana were rushing to greet their goddaughters

tala shyly accepted the arms of mattsun while makki was squealing quietly when darna was holding his finger tightly as she slept

‘taka-san, wanna hold her? she’s easier to hold when she’s sleeping’

‘oh can i?’

his eyes held the stars as the 11-month-old raised her fist then lowered it back down, sleep still heavy on her

‘waaa~ darna-chan is growing really quickly’

kunimi whispered, peering over his senpai to look at the baby whos eyes kept fluttering

you chuckled while looking at oikawa and him playfully bouncing reyna

‘tooru-san, congratulations on your win. it seems you’ve beaten hajime this time’

you complimented and the brunette smiled brightly at you, adjusting the little girls in his arms

‘ei, y/n-chan, i’ll beat him next time, and next time and the next time!’

every time he said ‘next’ he gave his goddaughter a kiss on her cheek making her giggle

your husband was pouting at the reminder of japan’s loss and you reached over to wrap your arms around him causing hajime to turn his head away from you

‘aww, my 4th baby is sad now’

you cooed and cupped his face delicately on your hands making him sulk and whine

the others, watching the scene, continue to be surprised at this side of their captain that remains to only be caused by you

‘ugh, nearly a decade later and theyre still sappy’

yahaba gagged and watari slapped his back

‘let them be happy’

‘come on! im in the mood for spaghetti! you like spaghetti, tala-chan?’

‘eung!’

mattsun cheered with kindaichi and she raised her hands to share the same energy

once everyone was situated in a restaurant and ordered, small talks were shared around the table of the past

‘haha, spaghetti is how your baba found out about you, tala-chan’

yahaba’s comment made the walking group laugh at the memory of seeing the video you sent in the seijoh group chat

‘i wanted to be creative with my second child since my firstborn was revealed by this loudmouth’

oikawa winced at the indirect diss at him

‘y/n-chan! i was really excited to find out i was going to be an uncle!’

‘youre already an uncle, bakakawa!’

hajime has toned down the insults to keep it pg for the children

‘but-!’

they started to argue, the oldest daughter looking disinterested as she sees this happening or hearing it whenever her dad and uncle video chat

‘it took me forever to find a ‘prego’ pasta sauce in the grocery store like i dont know why. was there a shortage?’

you complained, remembering the frustration

your fellow first years snickered at you and kindaichi prodded fun at you

‘is that why you just outright told him you were pregnant the day you found out?’

you rolled your eyes and watched makki and mattsun and tala watch the youngest as she wiggled her fists in the air and was awake enough to babble ‘makki’ over and over again

that was her first word and although she is now able to say a few words, she still repeats her first word over and over again

‘we had a fight and it just came out so of course i didnt have time to prepare!’

you defended and hajime finished his antics with oikawa just as you said that

‘what-what was your words again? ‘i really want to push you off the roof right now but i want my baby to meet their bastard father first?’‘

you gasped at that regretful statement and punched him in the arm

‘hajime! stop!’

you whined and covered your face with the sleeves of your his hoodie

‘hehe, y/n, you should do that again’

kyotani teased and you glared at him

‘shut up kyotani’

eyebrows were raised

‘eh? are you more hormonal?’

‘do you realize you already have 3 daughters?’

‘iwaizumi-san really wants to have a volleyball team family’

‘at least wait a year and a half, you animals’

‘so,, like hes that good huh?’

hajime growled and leaned over to intimidate but you snarled and jumped on your feet, being held back by the arms by kindaichi and hajime to stop yourself from leaping across the table to kill yahaba

‘keep talking like shite and i’ll make sure none of you become the godfather of this baby’

okay what

one, did you just curse

and two, this baby?!

‘im big sister again?!’

reyna ruined the surprised silence and then chaos ensued

‘WHAT!’

‘BABY?!’

‘THIS BABY?!’

you just realized what you said and smirked at the chaos you created and sat back down, leaning on the back of the chair and smugly taking a sip of your water

‘oh the power i hold in my hands’

you teased and oikawa pointed at you

‘when! how long!’

you looked at hajime who was so shocked that his eyes glazed over and a passerby wouldve thought he was dead

‘apparently 3 months’

oikawa started counting and his eyes widened at that thought

‘you-! you stayed in argentina! in my house! my house-!’

‘yep. both of them created under your house’

what 

!!!!!

hajime fainted 

oikawa screamed

a/n: okay i admit i got a little too carried away with this one. i just love filo!iwa and this was mostly written in his pov bc cmon we all know we love iwa and fell in love w him the moment we saw him

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. You know the header image placed at the beginning of every episode (portrait of P on the left, black and white sketch of HxP in the middle, portrait if H on the right)? The full image of the sketchier version of the black and white drawing (the version used in older episodes) is actually smut (you can see it on 4chan)… You’d think RS would at least make a minimal effort to hide her agenda to sexualise everything but nOoOoO

From OP, not Anon: Ngl, that shocked me when I first found that out

2. the same-face syndrome in this series is something else, I swear. legitimately couldn't tell Apollo and Eros apart for the longest time. all male and female characters are drawn with the exact same faces. it gets really annoying honestly

3. I don't know if this bothers anyone else (maybe it's just me) but it seems like the characters' facial expressions can be really... off at times? Like, characters will be drawn smiling in situations where it'd make no sense for them to be smiling? And be drawn with vacant expressions in inappropriate times?

Like how (spoiler) Daphne is drawn with a smile when Apollo turns her into a tree (?) when she should have looked terrified???

As an artist who specializes in facial expressions, the ones in LO legitimately throw me off at times.

4. Something that kind of weirds me out about LO is that both Hades and Persephone are kind of awful people (like literally. Slavery, murder, greed, etc.) but it's not portrayed as a bad thing?? at all, really??? Other than a "That's terrible!" here and there, the full weight of what these two characters do doesn't get addressed and is even excused?

And we as the readers are still supposed to believe these two are the good guys? Hades is the king of the underworld, he can do horrible stuff and get away with it. And we already know Persephone won't have to face the consequences of her actions -_-

Imo, this whole story would make more sense if these two were villains/descending into villainy, but that's obviously not what RS is planning.

5. This isn’t a critique I just wanna know if something went over my head, but when Zeus tells Hades to go be king and take Kronos with him Demeter shows up and Zeus and Demeter walk away. Was that suppose to be about Hera getting torn in half or just something we don’t know yet

From OP, not Anon: Maybe something we don’t know about since Demeter and Zeus don’t have a good relationship.

6. After reading the latest chapter where Hades drones on and on to a crying Persephone about how he'll take care of her and get her everything she needs and she'll have a footman waited on her, a apartment with a great view, etc etc.

It really puts into perspective how spoiled she actually is. Like, that chapter was almost hard to read. 

7. Why does RA draw so much porn? It’s so uncomfortable how most of her fans are underage yet she doesn’t even bother to hide the fact that she makes NSFW content 

From OP, Not Anon: Tbf, RS did have her nsfw behind a paywall. I don’t expect creators to hide that they make nsfw, especially since they don’t have much control over their audience. Nsfw is how a lot of webtoon creators make money after all. RS already stopped using patreon though so I haven’t seen her post nsfw or anything that couldn’t be considered artistic nudity in a while.

8. Anybody else notice how Persephone is always portrayed almost as a poor, lower class god who's worked in the fields instead of lived in luxury? "Oh, poor her!"? BUT we have, if my memory serves me, NO actual lower class characters at all?

I don't know if I'm making much sense, but basically the only reason Persephone seems like such an underdog is because RS hasn't introduced a character who has it worse than her. Despite that there are people living in literal slavery while she's living it up?

From OP, not Anon: Nymphs, satyrs, and other mythical beings are lower class in LO. The gods would be considered middle/upper class so yeah.

9. wasnt the original hymn about the power of women and a mother defending her daughter from a cruel marriage by standing up to men and bringing the world to its knees until they finally took her seriously? like thats feminist to me, not claiming persephone loved her kidnapper and demeter is a big bitch for trying to stop it. im not saying making hxp not full of sexual assault is bad, i'd much rather read that, but demonizing demeter for the sake of a man and a heterosexual romance aint it, chief.

10. I love how lo fanart always depicts hades as some young male model as if rachel isnt very open that she designed him off mads and his depiction of hannibal? like maybe they know if they drew him like a 55+ year old man like rachel intended they might realize hes a creep for wanting to bang a baby faced 19 year old.

[addisonmilfgomery]

Do you ship merder? Or any other meredith ship besides meddison?

Oh hi this became a whole essay so I've put it under the cut

Okay so w merder I do and I don't. I started off shipping them and i still love s1 merder. s2 derek was so goddamn annoying so nope. s3 merder was meh. s4 onwards I started to ship them and they got pretty cute once they were in a proper established relationship. And ngl I love the shit out of married w kids merder (minus s11 but then again i think they screwed derek over anyway cuz they were pissed at patrick. Thats a whole other thing ANYWAYS) But tbh i feel like i ship them mostly out of nostalgia rather than any actual oh my god theyre THAT couple feeling??

idk I was super excited when patrick returned for season 17 but then again i think nostalgia. Overall I wouldn't consider myself much of a merder shipper if you think abt them as a couple. I shipped TF out of meredith and nathan. I cant even explain they infested my brain so badly and I still think they were such a wasted opportunity. (the whole megan storyline was great tho and I liked the parallels w merder but godddd i wouldve loved for them to have lasted) AND NOW KNOWIJG THAT NATHAN AND MEGAN BROKE UP ANYWAYS BYEEEE RIP then there was Nick i think?!!?!??!omg. She and nick had insane chemistry in that one episode but tbh i'm not sure abt them rn? But thats cuz i am rooting for merhayes so badly so idk lol tho i do think hes cute af and he and mer look super good together. I didnt ship mer and deluca tbh. They did have the best romantic scenes tho??!?!?!?!?!?like FUCK can i be him?!?!?!?!? they were cute while they lasted however i didnt see them lasting for the long haul (I'll be honest i was wondering how they were gonna end the relationship i just wasnt expecting it to be like THAT gosh). That being said, i genuinely liked Deluca as a character so much and i felt like his story had so much more to give but i guess shock value is more important to the writers. and finally HAYES!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!!! I've been shipping him and Meredith since their first episode together and I'm SO excited to see them (hopefully) get together in s18. finger crossed tho cuz the writers love love triangles (which Im so sick of GODDD) but I hope they end up together.

[nachfo]

I just finished playing poppy playtime chapter 3 and i have a lot of things to say about it. I'm sorry man for what i'm about to say and how much i'm gonna ramble but its just the truth.

SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

I genually didnt like chapter 3. I had a miserable time playing it. There where some good stuff but it wasnt enought. I was seriously let down by this chapter. Everything just felt so goofy, too fast paced and out of place. And the gameplay was terrible, bunch of bugs, terrible auto saves, the gas mask was only used 3 to 4 times and the gun (which was what I was most exited for) only gets a good use at the end. Atleast the purple hand was kinda fun to use.

The writing was very floppy and generic, Ollie was so god damn annoying and unhelpfull, and i'm sorry but I didnt feel anything for kissy. And the way the characters talk about poppy, the player, catnap and the prototype is just straight up boring and cringe. The loading screens were super anticlimatic, and everything was just so confusing to follow, the game does a really bad job at directing. Half the game i didnt even know why I was doing what I was doing. And most puzzles really felt so lazy and had some very goofy ass solutions. And oh god i fucking hate the bateries.

The game started pretty good ngl up until after the school. It started to go down hill from there. The play place (i think that is what it was called) I was so exited for it and it turned out to be my last favorite section in the game. It was so tedious and boring and super glitchy. And the chase sequences in this game were awfull. And dont even get me started on the final boss fight. That was totally horrible. And the fucking stupid ass way we beat catnap is just so dumb and anticlimatic.

The game has a very hard time explaining things and usually a lot of stuff is missed. I really had a lot of expectation and was so happy about its release but I just left disapponted because i love poppy playtime but this was just disrespectfull to me.

There are tho some things that I really liked. The school section was super fun and scary, the graphics were fenomenal, the voice acting was great, the characters (designs) were awesome and the playcare itself was so cool and well made and put up toguether and i do have to admit that this chapter was actually scary.

This game was really lacking some more game play. It just wasnt fun to play. The red gas had some much potential but was barelly fully used at its full potential. This chapter could had been great. It had so many good and cool ideas but just didnt know how to implement them right. And idk but I still do not trust poppy if thats what the game wants to do. And also, idk but there where almost no reveals, eveything said we already knew or was just super obvious. There was more lore in the arg than in the chapter itself.

I love poppy playtime and i'm very sad this chapter ended up like this. Also idk if i'm the only one, but the inspiration from fnaf security breach and ruin is so obvious its annoying.

God. I don't even know how to BEGIN to describe how good Poppy Chapter 3 was. Everything about it from the voice acting to the models to the animations to the writing this time around just felt

Truly exceptional

[miaxeu]

      though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, MIA STOEGER is actually a descendent of DIONYSUS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-ONE year old MYTHOLOGICAL STUDIES MAJOR from LOS ANGELES, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CHARISMATIC & DUPLICITOUS. 

( y’all dont deserve this real messy intro but im workin w half a bwain cell at 4am so i beg thee 4 mercy. nywyy im the excited new girl who’s hella pumped to meet all ur charas : katya ! feel free to hop in my ims to plot or drop a like and i’ll hop in urs ! x  )

POWERS

natural acting abilities — her ma’s a hollywoo agent so she started actin real early & now shes a big shot actress. there r more deetz on her career below !

chlorokinesis — it wasnt as natural as acting n she only started working on it when she turned 13 n started going to camps. b4 she just noticed shes good w plants but it wasnt super crazy or nything. its p good now tho ! shes prioritizing vine binding and manipulation 4 the self defense bc awards r cool n all but they dont rlly protecc from monsters ykwim 

levitation — shes trying her best ur honor

alcokinesis  — she cant conjure it or anything, she’s just immune to it ffff

BIO POINTS — cw: drug use ( full biography here )

her mom raised her by herself bc dionysus the party god was out of the picture immediately. she never told mia she’s a demigod & it was always just “ wow ur so talented ” or “ aww u got a green thumb ! ” but when she saw him claim 13 y/o mia by placing a weird hologram over her head while she slept, she knew she had to spill da beanz & tell her kid

ofc mia thought her mom was jus playing sum weird acting exercise w her bc her powers r so lowkey she could highkey just be a Mortal but insert sad whistle, the realizashun & the claiming meant heightened monster threat !! so yea ,,, one ended up chasing her a couple days later rip 

aside from the trauma, mia was ok. mostly bc she ended up cryin for dionysus like any child would n lo & behold he came & helped !!! as he should. nywy she made sure to go to summer camps every year after that but mostly just for protection purposes

she lowkey rlly hates this whole god business esp now that shes grown lmfao deadass thinks she got a bad deal bc life threats arent sexy !!! went to eonia eventually bc its Too Much Man. she just wants to go back to work and her life w the mortals w/o worryin for her life. would deadass fade her father if she could. may or may not be majoring in greek mythology to figure out the logistics of it all out of spite, who knows !

PERSONALITY

not ! a Drama Queen  —  dont get me wrong, shes hella Extra in the way she moves n acts sorta like shes always bein captured on film. is quick-witted & playful & can be a huge tease/flirt if she feels like it, but miss her w Real Feelings ! totally not sentimental. srsly she will try to rationalize away everything and is just,.,., not good w it. so soz folks, we just keepin it breezy here

ugh, she’s an Actress — aka she can act like she cares tho ! shes very much into keeping ppl on her good side. shes friendly n palatable to everyone bc its how shes been trained & while it doesnt seem fake, its def diff when its genuine

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known —  lemme circle back to the first one, ok so shes good w emotions but only in theory. does intense character work with her roles so she thinks that counts as her having eq when rlly shes just emotionally stunted, projecting n repressing like an idiot

blonde, skinny, rich, & a lil bit of a Bitch — shes only a bitch inwardly or to ppl she trusts enuff to let in on the gossip. if anyone full on opposes her or becomes real emotional, then this lil diva will rear its superiority complex head n snap a lil. will most probably do it v underhandedly n w a smile but it will be Brutal

girls just wanna have FUN ! — shes the child of da party god, so ofc she a true party girl. officially off the rails when she parties. inhibitions ? we dk her. can be insensitive in that case bc smtms its truly no strings attached, tis all abt the fun. likes company a lot & it doesnt even have 2 be loud or particularly abt her, she just likes having people around n the escapism of it all. will make friends with everyone n make sure they have a jolly fun time guaranteed at dionysus parties 

Work Hard, Play Hard — real responsible when it comes to work and commitments and if she trusts/likes u enough, she’ll give it 2 u straight, no bs. def thinks Calling Out is an act of love but maybe does it a lil too harshly smtms. v much into efficiency, sentiments be damned. not the feely words type. will sit next to u or party w u or even pay 4 ur therapist if u need sum1 to talk to. she will Be There while u work thru it, so long as u dont expect her to change n be all emotional n stuff

if she seems a lil contradictory thats bc she kinda is. tis the good ol nurture vs nature. her ma’s a real no nonsense chick n her pops is a frat guy drama geek greek god whos rlly into cottagecore so u get this lil blonde bitch whos sorta teetering on the edges

OTHER INFO  — cw: drug use ( full headcanons here )

re her career, she achieved pegot status when she was 18 aka she truly b dat bitch. shes not super mainstream famous tho, more like indie sweetheart, film snobs/critics fave typa gal. if ya want a trajectory she started w baby commercials then a sitcom from 4-10 ( think modern fam’s lily ) then it was off to the big screen & the stage ! 

mia has a lil bit of a drug habit. its not abusive or dependent, but it is a staple whenever shes parties bc alcohol is useless 2 her. started a lil young too bc hollywoo. primarily uppers/hallucinogens. she smokes weed a lil more liberally but the rest is mostly just an on occasion thing ( which, ngl, is a still a lil problematic when u party a lot rip )

after she got claimed, mia ended up going to demigod camps in a lot of diff places n countries, depending on where production would take her. there was never an established place, more like wherever was nearest when they wrapped up shooting bc monsters afoot n wutnot  

she was always homeschooled but she still managed to go to a prom and homecoming bc party is life. that makes eonia uni p much her first chance at having a normal educational environment & experience and even then its anything but. still tho this is her moment !!! im lit rally begging her to get a personality that isnt her internally rolling her eyes going “ its not that deep ”

might put up a bio/stats page if im feelin sxc but i wud jus like the records to show that mia stoeger is a bi sxc babe bc me ? write a het ? no grassy ass.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS — cw: drug use ( full connections here )

omg danny devito i love ur work ! 

,,, p self explanatory sdkjfs sum1 who loves her work ! it can be lowkey/highkey fangirl to a civil admiration

OR alternatively, y/m can Not Be a fan of her work. they might think the storyline of the projects she takes on r too out of touch n highbrow yada yada yada, but yes, we love to see either of it ! 

summer camp sweetheart !  

someone she met when at camp when they were teens ? doesnt matter in what country/city, but mia was only visiting so it was truly a one summer romance typa thing. bc she was younger, im thinkin 13-17 or w/e she was probably sweeter n a lot more emotional then. was it either’s first puppy love ? first kiss ? first “ relationship ? ” idk, do yk ? truly, so many possibilities. nothin set in stone just hmu bub 

summer camp pals ! 

p much the same as above but make it Platonic

party buddies !

or druggie pals. either way works but she wud luv it if theyre both xoxo

friends w benefits !

most probably ( but not limited to ) sum1 she met at a party skdjhsjk is it exclusive ? is any1 starting to develop feelings ? im down 4 nthing n evrything

alexa play true friend by hannah montana !

give mia her college bestie ! her confidant who knows her feels and can call each other out viciously with no ounce of resentment. we stan the friendships !

omg i love ur skirt !

that is the ugliest effing skirt i've ever seen. lmao basically sum1 mia pretends to like or acts civil w but rlly ,,,, Cannot Stand for w/e rzn   

im p much braindead rn but those are just sum ideas !!! ofc the usual staples like the pals, enemies, wutnots are also v welcome we love to see it. if u also have a wc that u think mia would fit in, id luv to know more ! there are also a couple more detailed ones here, but pls feel free to shoot me a msg n we can get 2 plotting x 

( * wipes brow * how did i type so much n say so little rip. mia is also a completely new muse so pls b patient n if i fuq up from time to time, pretend u do not see >.< nywy thnx 4 readin, sweets ! feel free to hmu here or at discord if ya wanna <3333 )

FULL INFO  ||  EONIA TASKS 

[mousehole5000]

tgcf chapters 107 - 120 this is one where i give some Opinions. i do overall like hualian a lot but i have some quibbles

wait why am i still taking screenshots? i can copy/paste again afskldfjasad

It really was hard to tell whether people would feel happy after watching such performances. However, in truth, slaughter and the sight of blood did create excitement in people. Whether or not there was fear, after the initial shock was over, a rush of adrenaline would be produced in the heart- me watching horror movies

“Shi Qingxuan said. “Then, Your Highness, Crimson Rain Sought Flower! I order you to—to immediately strip each other’s clothing!” - djslkadjlsd WHY DID HE SPECIFICALLY SAY THEY HAD TO STRIP EACH OTHER THISALSKDJ is this a normal thing is it a wingman attempt what is happening

“I’ll tell you what it is,” he said softly. “To watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed, yet be unable to do anything. That’s the worst suffering in the world.” ... “Ming Yi asked, “What’s the biggest regret of your life?”- when truth or dare gets a bit too real

On the side, Hua Cheng was still only observing, and was already bored to the point where he’d changed back into his red robes. Then he changed to black robes again. Then to white robes. Almost every time Xie Lian looked back, he would be donning a different appearance, and with every new look there were different hairstyles, and different accessories, and different boots, and so on; sometimes playful, sometimes elegant, sometimes deadly, sometimes glamourous. Xie Lian was growing dizzy from all the colours and kept looking back, unable to look away. - THIS ISNT THE TIME HUA CHENG. YOURE PRIMPING. THE WINDMASTER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED AND YOURE PRIMPING

obsessed with xie lian not being able to figure out to use the windmaster’s fan and just. using it to SMACK

also windmaster??? whats going on??? :( i know some things from spoilers like who is not to be trusted but i really have no clue whats happening rn

anyways back to puqi shrine lets check on those kids also can we PLEASE get some funds for this restoration smh. hua cheng and xie lian doing mundane hard labor together to fulfill prayers.... :pleading:

jailbreak in the heavens 2: dig a tunnel

Sure enough, the moment Ming Yi put pressure on his shovel, a hole opened up before them. With the shovel raised, he burrowed crazily ahead while Shi Qingxuan, in the middle, cheered him on crazily. As the only non-crazy person, Xie Lian brought up the rear. That treasured shovel of the Earth Master was indeed magical, and with only a few strokes, a new tunnel of over ten meters was dug. - anybody remember mulch diggums from the artemis fowl series? this is much more dignified than that but i think this is only the second time ive read a character just starting digging a tunnel as a plot point

okay so much is going on i wish i hadnt spoiled who certain characters actually are for myself but i have no one to blame but me for a) not blacklisting spoilers at all and b) just having a little freefall through the tags. oh well. anyway heavenly college admissions scandal except way worse. the corruption extends to the heavens and the windmaster is having a very bad day

i guess we’re having a high seas adventure now?

im gonna keep it real im getting tired of how often we get told how handsome hua cheng is. i know its all xie lian’s pov and while im not terribly familiar with it i know what genre we’re working with and im assuming thats pretty typical. its something i dont much care for in general and idk maybe it sounds better in the original but ngl its starting to make me roll my eyes. love you goth king but god okay we get it.

i guess what i will say about hualian so far is that overall i like them and i like how they interact in general they have a lot of nice moments and they just genuinely seem to like each other which is really nice to see EXCEPT for when it actually comes to things that could be romantic or sexual which is a shame bc i dont think it has to be like this. again disclaimer that im only reading a translation and dont know everything might not have all the knowledge necessary to accurately criticize etc etc and im assuming a lot of this is expected from the genre (disclaimer to this disclaimer that i cant say that for sure its just based on things ive picked up about the bl genre over the years) but idk like xie lian was so distressed after their underwater kiss scene. it was kind of uncomfortable to read and maybe im being unfair i know his cultivation is based around abstinence or whatever but idk i dont care for it. and that scene alone doesnt have to be a bad thing like idk i guess its his first kiss ever (?) and it would make sense if he feels weird about it but i just have my doubts thats going to be addressed or resolved in a satisfying way. also im like. dude everyone is like centuries old. xie lian’s been on earth for 800 years. has he really never met or heard of a gay person during all this time? maybe he hasnt idk what he got up to yet maybe that’s actually a thing. also same thing with the reactions from the immortals to xie lian in a dress and characters like the windmaster like again you’re all centuries old and its not uncommon to be able to just completely change gender presentation. why are you all weird about a man wearing a woman’s dress? i just feel like that shouldnt be a big deal to these characters idk

also again not going to lie part of this that im not really a big fan of reading romance in general. yes i am reading this book. yes i do read and write a lot of fanfic that includes or centers romance. im multifaceted. but really what im talking about is the like physical side of it and descriptions im extremely picky about it. ill give an example. early on in the torture pit (or whatever it was called i cant remember lol) when xie lian kind of accidentally felt up hua cheng in the dark when he was being carried. i dont think thats a bad thing to have happen between the two romantic leads i think thats fine and good to include that early but i just did not enjoy reading it when it happened idk maybe it was the wording and i do think that moments like these work better in a visual medium. ive definitely read het romance that reads like this and i wasnt a fan of that either lol same with fanfic i get tired when writers go on and on about how hot one characters finds another character. this isnt a huge criticism of it like i said im picky but again like with the way that hua cheng is described it just makes me roll my eyes sorry kings

okay back to the reading. this whole saving the fishermen thing feels like a big set up for something narrative-wise. hua cheng specifically insisted on coming and i know one of the characters involved ends up dying im wondering if thats now it would be a good time tbh if things get just a bit too unfortunate during this heavenly calamity... and the brothers are notably not having a harmonious time... also tho it feels very likely we’ll just have another Hualian Moment (tm)

In such a situation, Pei Ming still acted the same. In the evening, when they rescued a few fishermen girls, so scared their eyes were blurry from tears, he held them in his embrace and soothed them with a gentle voice; a true show of honeyed romance, affectionate and charming. - pei ming please get pickled again.

also its funny that hua cheng is just kinda hanging out and everyone else just has to deal with it

Looking down from above, the entire area was painted in a terrifying black. It was easy to see the collision between the two different-coloured currents. Their fierce battle was what formed this enormous whirlpool. As the eye swallowed the ship whole, the two currents of water separated. However, the battle was far from over. Like two venomous vipers, they continued to snap at each other. Each collision was followed by a mountain of angry waves. - this pretty dope ngl. also love our wind and earth masters just chilling on a shovel i dig it. hehe

Yet, other than discovering Hua Cheng had a fine body, there were no other finds. Xie Lian was at his wit’s end and started to worry. - okay see this one’s funny im just also irritated bc im like WE KNOW!!! WE GET IT HE’S HOT AND XIE LIAN THINKS HE’S HOT OKAY GOT IT

okay kiss #2 again its not the kisses themselves its xie lian’s reaction it just bothers me idk im not saying i need him to be super into it and completely unconflicted about it rn but he’s just so freaked out about it and idk i just dont really like it just feels weird i dont care for that aspect of it. also dude hua cheng is a ghost and he did this exact same thing for you before just chill. i wish instead of xie lian literally running away while screaming that hes sorry he was just like “oh haha youre fine thats cool im gonna go look around the woods i dont feel weird about this at all haha” like idk its kind of funny but when its literally our two romantic leads i just feel like its confusing like it kind of makes me feel like they shouldnt be together if one of them freaks out this much again considering the fact that they are both CENTURIES old. i know i know xie lian is an 800 year old virgin but. he hasn’t been like this about anything else so yeah idk like it still could have been awkward and funny i just dont think it needed to be so :/ that being said it was funny that xie lian was then internally like “oh i did it wrong? perhaps i should ask him for more.. instructions....” if that actually happens i might like it bc it would complete this little watery theme

Before he finished, he immediately remembered. Coffin wood. There were trees here everywhere; and a deceased? There was one right before his eyes. Sure enough, Hua Cheng smiled. “Won’t it be fine once I lie inside? - love that hua cheng just sat on the fact that he can turn anything into a coffin. that would have been really useful information earlier but no he just waited until everyone but xie lian was gone afjaklsdjf

also i do think that oblivious xie lian thinking “wow whoever it is that hua cheng fancies is an idiot for not liking him back theyre totally taking him for granted :/” is kind of funny and sweet. actually the whole conversation they have at the campfire is good and im bookmarking it to think about later

“...You on top and me on the bottom,” Xie Lian replied. “Isn’t top and bottom the same?” Hua Cheng asked. - okay im sorry but. mood whenever theres discourse about top/bottom dynamics for a ship im just like jesus christ i dont care. tbh i rarely read fanfiction if its just sexual and ngl if i see a fic specifically tag characters as top or bottom i wont read it lmfao. especially when people have really strong opinions about this stuff when theres nothing canonical to back it up like headcanon all you want but whenever i see people argue about it im just like no offense but go work out your own sexual issues and dynamics instead of arguing with strangers on the internet about who’s a top and who’s a bottom. sorry to be mean but just thats how i feel lol

this was mostly a ramble with a few excerpts but im getting sleepy im going to TRY to take a break from this for like a day but we’ll see how that goes i do very much want to know what happens. anyway if you read this whole thing hiiiiii sorry for subjecting you to my opinions on top/bottom discourse

[frida--y]

let’s walk on the path to become a chef

my grandmother once said, “watch kabuto, it’s pretty neat.”

i actually really enjoyed kabuto!! even if i got a bit burned out due to my interests going to other shows at the same time. i was actually surprised how invested i got considering what i got from others was that ‘kabuto is weird/funny/meme-y’ which is... fair, but the story is bit more complex than i thought it was going to be!

like the twist with hiyori! i didnt see that coming and was pleasantly surprised. she’s a pretty strong character with what’s she’s given, even if she did fall into the ‘must be protected’ trope though. misaki was cool too! but her falling for tsurugi was.. funny, i really would have just been fine if it ended where tsurugi sees her as her own person rather than a surrogate for his sister and she sees him as a component person LOL, cause that just makes it awkward imo. the gals (juka, gon, the evil worm lady, and renge) were okay too!! it’s great that this series actually uses its female cast from time to time, better than just having one ngl and only one fell into a love interest and it wasnt with our main or secondary... wild lol.

okay can i talk about the real star here... i LOVE kagami, i always love a secondary that struggles to get his suit and his time to shine, it just elevates his support role to be the main’s equal. his relationship with his father was also interesting, it’s a father’s expectations of his son’s =/= a father’s love that kagami wanted, a real complex relationship that they showed. that baseball scene with them both is sooo good. also he handsome.     

i love their dynamic as well, they complement each other so well

cant believe how many riders we had though... and they all went places i couldnt predict lol, tsurugi i had thought would be a major villain LOL the two hoppers i had thought would be more of a threat and of course the drake user. 

though i saw on his wiki that he had scheduling difficulties so his role was dimensioned, but i still really liked the moments we had with him n gon.

i cant believe i “hated” him in the beginning 😭he’s just a dumb n cute rich boy!

god what happened to them in the end was fucked up...... w h y.... honestly my only complaint of kabuto is how it doesnt take itself seriously at times lol i know asking that of a kids show is sort of stupid, but the hopper boys got clowned on too much!!! what was the point of their belts if they also kill worms! l o l

^dats me yelling that the hopper boys are cool n should have been used more

bonus thoughts:

dark kitchen broke me, mentally. and inoue broke me.

extra thots:

nya~